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bunny-jpeg · 1 day ago
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burnin' tire
max verstappen
cw: smut/pwp, masturbation, fantasies, mad!max, post-dutch gp, mechanic!reader
love the fic? leave a comment! really love the fic? suggest your own!!
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second.
second was first place for losers. that was what he had been told his entire life. second, seconde, secondo, however he could slice it, it still looked bad. so when he stomped back into the paddock with fire in his heart and a storm cloud over his head, the mechanics scattered.
they even went as far as to push you, their newest addition in front of max so they could get a head start away from mad max.
he looked down at you, something in his gaze left you a little shaky at the knees. this was your first race with the team, and you couldn't secure a win for max. it was almost embarrassing.
"i'm sorry, mister verstappen!" you pouted, "i'm really sorry! we tried to move as fast as possible, but i guess we couldn't keep up to mclaren." you worried about your job! you had just started, you were far from home and this was your dream to work for, "i'm so sorry!"
you almost had tears in your eyes, which deflated the anger from max's stance. he dropped his arms and looked at you. he replied, "there's nothing to be sorry about, it happens." as if he hadn't been on a losing streak for some time now.
your bottom lip quivered and your eyes grew watery, "this was your home race. and i'm just so sorry! i just wanted to do good, i wanted you to win!" a few tears fell and max was dumbfounded.
he was used to tearing into the mechanics and the engineers. he was used to snapping his words and letting rage consume him. instead he reached out for you, "hey, it's okay! don't cry. it's alright.'" he even wiped your tears away as your lip wobbled.
you got into his arms and gave him a bit hug. you looked at him and said, "i promise we'll win the next one! i promise!" even in those baggy coveralls you looked cute. if not beautiful.
max felt the anger disappear in his gut and he smiled at you, almost warm, "yes... yes we will." and when he patted you on the head and turned away and out of the paddock.
the other mechanics were in as much shock as you were. and while max would've loved to continue holding you, even reassuring you about the race in monza the following week. max was painfully hard from your brief interaction. it was like all the anger went to his cock and he needed to get out of there before he caused a scene.
back in the red bull motor home, max thought he was going to burst a blood vessel in his head. it was a pain to get into his jeans after he got out of his racing clothes. everything felt like a live wire, to go without masturbating for that long felt painful. especially when the source of his erection was playing in his read.
you smell like motor oil and warm vanilla, your touch was soft when you hugged him and that pretty face. even with the smear of grease on your face and the red bull cap on your head.
"mister verstappen." your voice rang in his head and he didn't even make it to the bed before his cock was in his hand. his palm covered in his spit as he sat on the couch and stroked himself still clothed.
he knew that the team had hired a new mechanic, but to see you in action made his brain feel almost rotten from the lust he felt. he barely paid attention to who was working on the car during the race but he knew you weren't working alone. and yet, you still carried all the responsibility for the team on your shoulders.
you poor thing. he continued to stroke his cock and he panted heavily at the feeling. thoughts of you were in his head as he pleasured himself. he wished you were there to do it for him. even if you wore you coveralls and covered in grease, if you were on your knees in front of him, your mouth on his cock as you pleasured him.
he wondered if you had even done that before. if you had any partners, or even one at the moment. he tried not to let the jealousy curl in his gut. he wasn't even sure, but he wouldn't have been surprised. you were beautiful, and who didn't love a gentle soul. you wanted max to win and max in turn felt towards you that he felt towards no other mechanic. he wanted you to work on his car, but also taking you out to dinner. to show you the finer things in life.
he wondered what colour panties you wore, and what cut. he knew you weren't wearing a thong, no when you were lifting heavy tires all day. he imagined something red, maybe a boy short. something that moved with the curves of your hips and thighs. he thought excited him, it really turned him on. made his face as red as he hoped that your panties would be.
how they'd curve to your ass, when you ran around the pit stop. how you would lift tools around. the strength to you. max liked models, but there was something about you the captivated him. and you didn't even know. you were just a humble mechanic, and you drove max wild.
he continued to stroke his cock heavily. he panted heavily as he felt his dark t-shirt cling to his back. his pace was quick up against his cock, he even spat on his hand once more to just to get the right friction. it was a head rush. he was not immune to masturbation, max did it almost daily if he had the time.
but to picture you in your bra and panties made him excited. hungry like a dog as he fucked his hand. he wished it was your pussy. he wished that he could bully the tip of his cock against you. he wished he could bend you in half and fuck you with a vigor that there were no other words for.
he wondered if you were loud, if he'd have to silence you with your panties. if he's have to cover your mouth or gag you, or would you just burst into tears like you did in the garage. the wet eyes,staring at him, promising that you'd do better next time. it made max want to fuck you even more. he wanted you every way he could have you.
"shit." he groaned through grit teeth as he continued to stroke his cock. he could feel his heart beat in his ears as he continued to masturbate. you were just a little thing, even with your skills as a mechanic, you were still so small. max felt he need to protect you.
he wanted to make sure you needed for nothing. he wondered if you'd have him as your lover. as your partner. the thought made him shudder as he continued to stroke his cock. he felt the head rush it all, he panted heavily as he stroked his cock.
his pace continued and he let himself get lost in the feeling. when it got overwhelming, he finished all over himself. your words rang in his mind, the promises you made. next time will be better. he'd win next time! and as cum dribbled all over his hand, he panted heavily with the head rush. he panted heavily and felt a shudder through climax. he wondered if you were touching yourself tonight, which made his cock twitch in his hand.
he was covered in cum at the waist and he felt hot all over. he rubbed his face with his free hand and for a moment felt in the post-orgasm shame. but it didn't last long.
with the after shivers of euphoria, he knew he had to do something. he couldn't be jerking off in private anytime he saw you. max was a man of action so after he cleaned himself off, he texted horner,
"i was wondering if i could properly meet with our new mechanic, show her the ropes. i think things will be promising with her." he tried to sound as professional as possible, but as thoughts of your watery eyes filled his mind. he knew he'd have to get himself off again soon. <3
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singmyaubade · 3 days ago
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neeeeeedd finals themed x reader fics rn but i cant find ANYTHINGGGG i just need my fav boys to comfort me while im on my grindset 😞😞😞
hiii! i was a little late to see this request, but i still wanted to write it! hope your finals went super well and that you’re enjoying the break! great work <33
bf!poly!marauders x gf!female!reader
summary: OWL's was truly getting to you but your favorite boys always know how to comfort you.
warnings: pure fluff: kissing, cutesy stuff, just teasing tension
--
OWL's was starting to feel like an understatement.
The late nights, the constant ignoring of everything around you, never quite living in the moment… yeah, understatement doesn’t even begin to cover it.
But getting perfect marks wasn’t a want, it was a need.
If you wanted to be an Auror, if you wanted Dumbledore’s reference—passing OWLs with flying colors wasn’t optional. It was a must.
And, unfortunately, everyone else around you seemed to be paying for it.
James had been trying to get you to play Quidditch with him for three days straight. He even promised to buy you that dress you’d been eyeing during your last trip to Hogsmeade. You appreciated the effort but didn't cave.
Not long after, Sirius had tried his own tactic—convincing you to go skinny-dipping in the Black Lake. He even tried to seduce you.
It was worse than James' attempt if you were being honest.
Then Remus—who was usually the one to encourage studying—tried to get you to let him read to you, just so you could get some sleep.
And you wanted to. You really did. But you couldn’t afford distractions—not with the potions section of your notes still untouched.
So, they gave you space. Finally. Or so you thought.
“Hi, my love,” Remus murmured, massaging your shoulders, pulling you from your thoughts. You grinned and leaned up to kiss him.
“Hello,” you chirped, your focus still on scribbling notes.
“Still working hard?” He asked, but his voice was light, full of warmth.
You hummed, nodding in agreement. “Well, I have a surprise for you,” He said, his tone suddenly more serious.
You didn’t really register what he said at first, still lost in your notes. But then, without warning, he gently turned you toward him.
“Darling, I need you to step away from your quill and paper for just a second,” He said, his gaze soft but earnest. You frowned.
“But Remmy, I really need to finish this,” You protested.
He gave you a playful yet exhausted look. “I swear, it’ll still be here. I just want you to see something.”
You sighed and reluctantly set the quill down, giving your notes one last sad look before following him as he gently took your hand and led you out of the library.
“What is this surprise?” You asked, your impatience creeping into your voice.
“You’ll see, my love,” He replied with a soft smile.
“But I really need to study,” You rambled. “Professor Turner is going to mark me down if I mess up the measurements for the ingredients. You know how picky she is.”
Remus chuckled, stopping to look at you with tender amusement. “I swear on Merlin’s beard, you’ll pass. You just need to stop stressing about it so much.”
His hands cupped your face, and he kissed your forehead, making you smile despite yourself.
Soon, you found yourself in the outdoor grassy area, where you could see James and Sirius bickering about something. Remus led you over to a picnic blanket where the two were sitting.
“What’s going on here?” You asked, looking between them.
“Well…” James began, standing up and making his way toward you. “We thought you could use a little stress reliever after all that studying.”
He took your hands in his. “And we wanted to do something nice for you,” He added, a playful glint in his eyes.
You grinned. “Thank you guys,” You said, feeling your heart warm at their thoughtfulness.
“We had to, love,” Sirius chimed in, looking at you with a teasing smirk. “We were worried your pretty little brain was going to overload.”
You giggled and sat down on the blanket next to Remus. The scent of fresh blueberry muffins wafted up, making your stomach rumble.
“I never knew you guys could bake,” You said, eyeing the spread laid out in front of you.
James grinned proudly. “Well, we all make great bakers,” he said. “Remus has precision, I’ve got my luck, and Sirius…”
“Hey! I was moral support!” Sirius interjected, pushing James lightly.
You laughed, glancing at Remus. “This is really sweet. Thank you.”
“Of course, my love,” Remus said, leaning in to kiss you softly. “We’d do anything for you. And we both know you’ll pass, because you’re brilliant.”
“Yeah, that brain of yours would outsmart all of us,” Sirius said, shaking his head with a grin.
“And, uh, I did come up with the idea for the basket,” James interrupted, his eyes twinkling mischievously. “I think I deserve a kiss for that.”
You giggled, leaning over to give him a quick peck.
“I suggested we have it outside,” Sirius added, looking pleased with himself.
You laughed again before giving him a peck as well.
Remus smiled at you lovingly, his hand resting on your knee. “I’m just glad you’re here with us,” He said quietly.
“Well,” You said with a cheeky grin, “I think it’s time for some skinny dipping. Maybe a bit of Quidditch? And, oh, a bedtime story?”
The boys’ eyes all lit up. Sirius’ grin grew mischievous.
“You had me at skinny dipping,” He said with a wink.
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silent-stories · 2 days ago
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𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐔𝐈𝐋𝐃 𝐀 𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘 - 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐕𝐄
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Pairing: Noah Sebastian x reader
Series summary: When Noah was left alone to take care of his daughter about two years ago, he never thought he would find someone else he would trust enough to include in his little family. But things can change.
Tw: drunk jason
Series masterlist
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That evening, after Noah’s flight, your phone buzzed with a message from him. His words weren’t as distant as you’d expected, and you found yourself exhaling a quiet breath of relief.
Noah♡: We’ve landed! Everything’s good here so far.
You: Glad to hear. How’s the weather?
Noah♡: It’s a bit colder, but no big deal. I’ll survive.
Noah♡: How’s Luna doing?
You: She’s great.
You: We’re having fun. No worries here.
Noah♡: That’s good to hear
Noah♡:Hope she’s not getting into too much trouble
You: She’s been perfect. Just finished watching cartoons.
Noah♡: Nice!
Noah♡: Well, I guess I’ll let you go
Noah♡: Catch you later
Noah♡: Bye
There was no "I love you" at the end of his message, something that would’ve been so automatic just days ago. But somehow, it didn’t feel like a cold goodbye. It felt like he needed a bit more space, and maybe you did, too. You held the phone in your hands for a moment longer, letting that thought settle.
You: bye! Have a good show.
You sent the last text.
The rest of the evening passed as smoothly as expected. Luna’s energy and creative stories kept you both occupied, and you found yourself laughing more than you had in a while. She told you a wild story about how Mr. Flop had to fight off Broccoli Man, who had been stealing all the vegetables in his garden, trying to turn them into broccoli soldiers to take over the world.
The entire thing was ridiculous, and you couldn’t help but smile at her enthusiasm.
"Mr. Flop is really strong, though, right?" Luna asked as she leaned closer to you, "Like daddy!"
"Of course, he’s a superhero." you replied with a grin, "Mr. Flop, not Noah."
Luna nodded seriously. "He’s going to save the universe from Broccoli Man! And then everyone will be able to eat all the strawberries and carrots they want!"
You laughed softly, gently tapping her nose. "I think you’re right. That’s a pretty good plan."
Luna beamed and threw herself back onto the pillows, giggling. "And then he can fly to the moon!"
"Why not?" you said, settling next to her. "He’s Mr. Flop. He can do anything."
Luna snuggled into the blankets on the couch, her eyes fluttering as she fought to stay awake. "And he’ll get all the carrots in the world." she mumbled.
"I think it's time to go to sleep for someone."
"Mh. Who? Not me."
"Actually I think it's you." You laughed as you picked her up and brought her to her bedroom.
Luna, however, didn't give up right away and insisted until it was your turn to create a story. You came up with a tale about a family made up of a big but kind bear (inspired by Noah), his daughter, a rabbit (obviously Luna), and a cat who was, of course, you.
It was so silly and Luna giggled the whole time, until her eyes started to close.
You softly brushed a lock of hair out of her face. "Sweet dreams, Luna," you whispered.
"Mhm," she hummed, already drifting into sleep, "Goodnight."
After Luna fell asleep, you quietly slipped out of her room. You took a moment to pause outside her door, listening to the soft sound of her breathing before making your way into Noah’s bedroom. The bed was neatly made, but as soon as you climbed under the covers, the familiar scent of Noah’s pillow surrounded you. It smelled like him—faintly of cologne, warmth, and something distinctly him.
For a brief moment, you let yourself linger in the comfort of it, breathing deeply as you settled into his space.
You lay there, your mind racing. Thoughts of Noah and the tension between you both circled in your mind. But as you tried to clear your head, you focused on the rhythm of your breathing and the warmth of the bed surrounding you.
Things were still up in the air, uncertain, but for now, you hoped everything would work out. Maybe Noah just needed time to process everything, to clear his mind. You knew he loved you.
With that thought, you closed your eyes, letting sleep gently take over. You thought about the way he’d said goodbye, the way his hand lingered on your back before he left for the show, and the way he had smiled, though it felt a little strained.
You had a weird feeling in your stomach and conflicting thoughts in your head.
You wanted to believe that the time away, even if only two days, would help both of you figure things out.
Maybe things would be okay. Maybe this space would give him the time he needed to work through the mess of feelings he had. You just hoped that when he came back, things between you would be a bit different—better. That he would understand that Jason was part of your past.
You drifted off, letting the night surround you, hoping everything would fall into place. The silence in the room felt comforting, and you whispered to the empty space next to you, "Everything will be fine. We’ll make it work, Noah. I know we will."
You closed your eyes and fell into a deep sleep, the thought of Noah lingering in your dreams.
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“This is his city, Jo,” Erika said to her friend, almost in awe, gesturing around with a wide sweep of her hand as the two walked through the city center. “Can you believe it? This is where Noah fucking Sebastian lives."
I mean, I can’t even process it! I’ve been a fan for so long, and now I’m actually here... in the city where he fucking lives.” She grinned, practically glowing with the thought of it. “I just hope we spot him while we’re here, like... just walking around or something. You know, like fate. He’s gotta be back in town in a couple of days, right? After that concert I was too slow to get the tickets for."
Jo, who had been listening with half an ear, couldn’t suppress a smirk. “Yeah, sure. You’re totally gonna run into him and play it cool, right?”
Erika shot her a playful glare. “What? What do you mean ‘play it cool’? Like, I’m supposed to act casual about it?”
Jo raised an eyebrow, leaning in slightly as if to mock Erika’s dramatic flair. “Well, yeah, I'm sure you would start screaming like you lost your mind.”
Erika’s eyes widened. “Pfft, honestly? I would totally scream. What if we’re just walking down the street, and he... like, just walks by us? Imagine if we catch him going to the grocery store or something. We’d just—”
“Freak out? Like a total sane person would do?” Jo teased.
“Uh, yeah. I’d probably lose my mind. You don’t even understand. Imagine me yelling out his name when I see him walking past us.”
Jo sighed, rolling her eyes dramatically. “You’re such a fangirl, Erika.”
“Guilty,” Erika admitted, smiling widely. But then her grin faltered for just a moment. “I mean, imagine though, if we actually do run into him. Like, what if... what if he doesn’t look like a god on earth in person? What if he’s all... unshowered or something? Would I love him less? Probably not, honestly."
Jo chuckled, but then her expression shifted slightly. “Wait. Isn’t he... isn’t he in a relationship right now?”
Erika’s face lit up as she leaned in to gossip. “Yeah, apparently. You’ve seen him holding hands with that girl in the pics I showed you, right? I mean, she’s cute, but... it’s Noah fucking Sebastian we’re talking about here. Everyone thought he was gonna stay single forever after the big break up with his ex. But nope, turns out he’s taken now. But you know what the fans are saying, right?”
Jo rolled her eyes again, though this time there was a hint of genuine curiosity in her tone. “What, are the fans still convinced they’re gonna break up? I swear, Twitter is just full of delusional people.”
Erika’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “Hey, I’m on Twitter too, you know.”
Jo smirked. “I know.”
“So you know the vibe,” Erika said with a shrug, her grin returning. “I’m just saying, Twitter’s pretty sure they won’t last. I mean, they’re like, ‘Noah’s gonna wake up and realize he can’t be tied down, blah blah.’ You know the drill.”
Jo snorted, crossing her arms. “Yeah, because Twitter has such a good track record when it comes to relationships.”
“Hey, sometimes they’re right,” Erika said. “There’s always some truth to the madness.”
Jo shook her head exasperation, but there was a bit of amusement in her eyes. “Alright, fine. Whatever. Let’s just hope you don’t have to chase him down the street screaming.”
“Who says I wouldn’t?” Erika winked, and Jo just laughed.
They continued walking for a while, Erika practically floating on her own excitement. “I know he’s not in town right now, though,” she repeated, her voice suddenly quieter. “But hopefully, he’ll be back soon, and I’ll get the chance to run into him. I mean, we’re here for a whole week. Who knows? Maybe we’ll be lucky.”
Jo gave her a teasing look. “So you’re gonna hang around for a week, hoping he’ll just pop up out of nowhere?”
“Well, yeah. What’s the worst that could happen?” Erika grinned, her optimism unchanged. “If fate wants us to meet, it’ll happen. And if not, well, at least I can say I was in his city.”
Jo rolled her eyes playfully. “You're hopeless.”
Erika shrugged with a smile. “What can I say? It’s Noah fucking Sebastian. A girl can dream.”
"Maybe you'll meet his girlfriend."
"God, don't make me think about that."
As they continued walking through the city streets, Erika couldn’t help but imagine all the ways she might accidentally run into Noah. Maybe it wouldn’t be today, but she’d hold onto the hope that someday, somehow, she’d get that moment of fate.
And, if that moment did come, she’d make sure she was ready to scream.
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The morning sunlight poured in through the windows, casting soft beams across Noah's living room, where you and Luna were sitting on the carpet. The air was warm, the peaceful hum of the quiet house making it feel like an ordinary, calm morning.
Luna, her dark hair tied back into a little ponytail, was sitting cross-legged beside you. Her tiny hands were busy, gathering the colorful perlite beads, placing them neatly in front of you both. She handed you a strand of elastic thread, her eyes wide with concentration as she carefully picked up the beads one by one.
"Here, these are for your bracelet." she said softly as she passed you a little pile of pink beads.
"Thanks, Lu," you replied, taking the beads from her hand and threading them onto the string, forming a delicate bracelet. Luna had decided you two should make matching ones, with one for you and one for her. But when she had asked, if you could also make one for Noah when he came home, you had agreed with a warm smile. The thought of the three of you having a tiny shared piece of something meant so much to you, more than you could explain.
She glanced up at you, her brown eyes focused and intent on your every movement as you worked on the bracelet.
"I like this one," Luna said quietly, as she looked at you working on it. "Very pretty."
"You can keep it for you, if you want," you replied, your voice soft as you gave her a reassuring smile.
"No, no. It's for you. You need a pretty bracelet too."
"Alright." You chuckled.
You continued working side by side in peace, you made some comments about how hard it actually was and Luna laughed every time.
She passed you the beads to make Noah's bracelet too, some were white and some pink. You laughed at the idea of Noah wearing it.
After a while, you finished with the last few beads of Noah's bracelet, tying the ends of the threads and holding it up. "See? We all have matching ones. He's gonna love it."
"I love them too! They are all so cute!"
Luna’s eyes sparkled as she reached out to take her bracelet from you. You carefully tied it around her little wrist, making sure it was just the right size. She looked down at it with a sense of satisfaction, before lifting her arm up to show it off.
"Y/N," she said softly, her voice filled with warmth. "Thank you for making these with me."
You smiled at her words, your heart melting just a little at the simplicity of it all. "It was fun, Luna. I’m happy we made them together."
Then, you put your own bracelet on the left Noah's one on the coffee table.
The two of you sat back for a moment, admiring your handiwork. The quiet was comfortable, peaceful. It wasn’t about grand gestures or big moments. It was just the two of you, making something simple, yet meaningful, that made you feel even more part of the family.
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During the early afternoon, the air was just enough chill to feel refreshing but not too cold to keep you indoors. Luna was beside you, skipping along the sidewalk as you made your way to the café. She had been asking for the cookies there all morning, and you’d promised her you’d get some.
"Luna, don’t run off too far!" you called as she darted ahead, her tiny legs moving with a quickness that matched her energy.
"I'm just going to see if I can spot the cookies through the window!" she called back over her shoulder, already well ahead of you.
You arrived at the café, the familiar jingle of the door opening greeting you as you stepped inside, already feeling the warm aroma of freshly brewed coffee and baked pastries wrapped around you. Luna headed straight for the display case, eyeing the rows of cookies.
"Well, look who finally decided to show up," Grace’s voice came from behind the counter, dripping with sarcasm. She didn’t even glance up from her phone. "I thought you weren’t coming in today."
You sighed inwardly, already knowing where this was going. "Hey, I told you I was gonna stay with Luna for a couple of days. But she wanted the cookies."
Grace scoffed, still not bothering to look at you. "Yeah yeah."
Luna, blissfully unaware of Grace’s sharp tone, pointed to the cookies on the counter, eager to get her hands on the treats. Grace grumbled under her breath as she grabbed a jar of cookies, setting them down on a plate.
"Here. Your usual."
"Thanks, Grace," you replied, a little too sweetly, grabbing the cookies from the counter and leading Luna to a table by the window. She plopped down happily, already tearing into one of her cookies.
After a few moments, Grace walked over to your table, her eyes narrowing as she folded her arms across her chest. "So, how’s the rockstar boyfriend of yours?" she asked.
You raised an eyebrow, already preparing for the usual jabs. "He’s fine."
Grace leaned in a little closer, her lips curling into a sly smile. "Really? That’s it? Just fine?" She paused, her tone laced with amusement.
You clenched your jaw but tried to keep your cool. "Yeah, he’s fine. He texted me a couple of times, he seemed chill. Maybe the distance helped calming the waters. He’ll be home tomorrow morning."
Grace chuckled, scanning your face as though she were trying to pick out any crack in your calm exterior. "Well, alright. But- oh. Look who's there!"
You turned around to the sound of a familiar voice calling your name. Standing in the doorway of the café, was Jason. He gave you a slight no and a little smile, but you could almost see the tension in his posture. However, you noticed the way his eyes softened when they met yours.
"Hey," he called, walking toward you.
"Jason." you said.
It's not the right moment, it will never be the right one. You wanted to say. But the words died in your throat.
"I need to talk to you," he said, his voice low but urgent.
"Jason-"
"Please."
You hesitated for a moment, then you stepped away from the table, walking a few paces toward Jason, keeping a cautious distance between you both. You casted a quick glance over your shoulder at Grace, who was chatting with Luna at the table.
"Alright," you said. You didn’t know what this conversation would bring.
You could hear Grace talking to Luna in the background, her voice casual but with an odd warmth to it.
"...Your eyes are so big and pretty, you know that?" Grace’s voice drifted over to you, and you found yourself smiling a bit. You couldn't deny that Grace had her sharp moments, but you always knew there was more to her—more than just the snarky attitude and sarcasm. You never really understood what had made her so cold, but you knew she wasn't actually a bad person. She just had a way of hiding it.
Focusing back on Jason, you tried to push aside the strange feeling that had crept into your chest. "What’s up?" you asked, doing your best to keep your voice steady.
Jason took a breath before speaking, his gaze locking with yours, blue eyes staring right into your soul. "I—" He paused, as if weighing his words carefully. "I can’t stop thinking about you. Since I got back into town, it's like I never left. And I know things ended, but I need to tell you the truth."
Your stomach twisted, but you forced a calm smile. So Noah was right. "Jason, I'm happy with Noah," you said, your voice firm but gentle. "He's—he's good to me, and things are really good right now. I’ve moved on."
A little part of the sentence was a lie, but he didn't need to know that. Things weren't "really good" but they were going to be.
Jason's eyes dropped for a moment, and when they met yours again, they were filled with something raw. "I get it. You’re happy. But I’ve changed. I’m not the same person I was when we... when we ended things. It hurts, seeing you with someone else, but I don’t want to lie to you anymore. I still care about you, Y/N."
The sincerity in his voice caught you off guard, and for a moment, you felt that familiar pull—the one that had once made you believe you could fix things between you two. You swallowed hard, shaking your head softly. "I’m happy, Jason. I’m really happy with Noah. I... I think you need to move on, too."
Jason stared at you, his lips pressing into a thin line. "It’s hard," he muttered. "But I get it. I just wanted you to know."
You gave him a small nod, feeling the weight of his words settle in your chest. But it didn’t change anything. "I’m glad to hear you’ve changed, Jason. But this is my life now."
With that, you turned on your heel, walking back to the table. You could feel Jason's gaze still on your back as you went, and when you reached Grace and Luna, you tried to put on a brave face. Grace raised an eyebrow when she saw the look on your face, but Luna didn't notice anything amiss, still happily munching on her cookie.
Jason didn’t say anything else. He left without another word, disappearing into the street, and the door of the tattoo shop slammed shut behind him.
Grace gave you a questioning look, but didn’t pry. Instead, she shrugged casually. "Everything alright?"
You took a breath, trying to shake off the weird tension that had filled the air. "Yeah, it’s fine. Let’s just eat."
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Jason slammed the door of the tattoo shop behind him, the quiet hum of the neon sign above flickering as the shop fell into a tense, suffocating silence. He walked toward the counter, his fists clenched at his sides, his jaw grinding with frustration. Rick, still sitting where Jason left him before going to the cafè, glanced up at the noise, raising an eyebrow at the storm brewing inside his friend.
"Jesus, man. It didn't work out?" Rick asked, his tone low but laced with curiosity.
Jason didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he slammed his fist down on the counter, the wood groaning under the force of the impact. Rick flinched, his eyes widening, but he didn’t move. He’d seen Jason angry before, but tonight was different. This wasn’t the usual frustration; this was something deeper, more explosive.
After a moment of silence Rick tried again, playing with a pin on his leather jacked with his hands.
"She fucking shut me down, Rick," Jason growled, his voice shaking with rage. "I had it all planned out! I was going to tell her those bullshits, show her that I’m not the same guy I was when we broke up. I thought, maybe, if I played it right, she'd—"
Jason cut himself off with a bitter laugh, raking a hand through his short light brown hair. He kicked a chair out of his way and began pacing back and forth across the floor, his eyes wild with frustration. Rick just leaned against the counter, arms crossed, watching his friend unravel.
"But she didn’t bite," Jason muttered darkly. "She just fucking shut me down, like it was nothing! No hesitation. No second thoughts. Just—'I’m happy with Noah.' Like I didn’t even matter!"
Rick let the silence hang in the air for a moment before he spoke again. His voice was steady, as if trying to cut through the storm of Jason’s anger. "So, what do you wanna do now? You can’t just sit around pissed off about it. She made her choice, man."
Jason’s gaze snapped toward Rick, eyes flashing with a mix of disbelief and fury. He slammed his fist into the counter again, this time harder, the sound of wood cracking under the pressure ringing out in the big space. "What the fuck do you think I’m supposed to do, huh? Let it go? Just walk away and pretend this didn't happen? I can't lose! Jason Clarke can never lose! You hear me? He cannot!" He tapped his index to his temple a few times while shouting like he was trying to spat out everything that was going on his mind at the moment.
"You could just try to move on too," Rick said with a shrug. "I mean, she told you. She’s happy with Noah. Maybe it’s time to face facts."
Jason’s eyes narrowed. "No," he spat, stepping closer to Rick, his voice a low growl now. "I’m not just gonna let it go. I want her. I fucking need her" He paused, his fists flexing at his sides. "I want her to want me again."
Rick’s expression softened for a moment, but he didn’t say anything. Jason’s eyes darted to the closed sign hanging in the window and the empty tattoo chairs around them. The weight of the silence pressed down on him, but then something shifted in his eyes—a flicker of realization.
He stood still for a moment, staring at Rick, his mind working at a pace that seemed almost dangerous. The anger faded, replaced by a sly, almost mischievous glint in his eyes.
"What are you thinking?" Rick asked cautiously, already suspecting what was coming. It was going to involve him too, he was sure.
"Rick, my brother" he said, his voice dropping to a more dangerous tone, "you free tonight?"
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It was late, well past midnight, when you finally decided to lie down. The house was quiet, save for the occasional creak of the wooden floors beneath the weight of the night. You had just finished watching My Neighbor Totoro with Luna, who, despite her attempts to fight sleep, was already tucked into bed, clutching Mr. Flop tightly, in her soft pink pajamas.
She had asked if her dad would be home tomorrow, to which you had softly replied, "When you wake up, you dad will already be here."
That was enough to comfort her, and now, the house was dark and quiet.
You slid under the covers, trying to ignore the unease still lingering from the earlier conversation with Jason. But you tried not to think about him. Just relax, Y/N. You’re with Noah now.
But then came the sound.
At first, you thought it was just the wind—the soft, eerie whisper of the trees outside—but then, you heard it again. A light scrape, then a thud.
"Fuck." Someone muttered.
You hesitated for a moment, listening. It was unmistakable now.
Someone was out there.
Your heart skipped a beat as you slowly got out of bed, your bare feet cold against the hardwood floor. You tiptoed to the window, the one that overlooked the porch. You peered through the curtains, and for a split second, you thought you were imagining it, but there he was.
Jason.
He was standing on your porch, swaying slightly, his body unsteady as he gripped the railing for support. The faint glow of the porch light caught the bottle in his hand. He was drunk.
Drunk? He looked completely wasted.
Your heart raced. Why was he there? It was well past one in the morning.
You rushed to the door, flung it open without thinking, and before you could say a word, Jason stumbled over, nearly knocking into you.
"Y/N," he slurred, his eyes blurry, "I love you. I... I love you."
You froze, taken aback by his words. The heat of his body, the stench of alcohol, and the recklessness of his presence hit you all at once, you put a hand on his chest to slightly push him away and to avoid a possible fall. "What the hell are you doing here?" you spat. "It’s fucking late and you are drunk. Go home."
Jason shook his head, his eyes glassy. He reached for you, his voice pleading, "My friend... he played a joke on me. Left me out here. I don’t know where to go. Please... let me in."
You felt your stomach drop as you looked him over. He was shivering in a light jacket, his eyes half-lidded as he tried to steady himself. The chill of the night air was sharp and biting, and he looked like he might collapse any second.
"Jason I- God. I fucking hate you."
"Mh... please." He mumbled.
You didn’t know what to do. Every fiber of your being told you to shut the door, to send him away. This isn’t your problem. But your conscience—your heart—had other plans.
You took the bottle from his hand and put it on the ground, then stepped aside, grabbing him by his jacket as he swayed again, and helped him inside, closing the door behind you with a click.
"God, Jason," you muttered, glaring at him as you took in his disheveled state. "What the hell were you thinking? You’re drunk off your ass, and it’s freezing outside. How do you even fucking know where Noah lives?"
Jason didn’t respond right away. Instead, he collapsed onto the couch with a defeated sigh, his eyes half-lidded. "You’re beautiful," he muttered, his voice soft. "Even without makeup... in your pajamas."
You rolled your eyes. "This is so messed up. This is so fucking messed up. You can’t just show up here like this. Do you have someone to call?"
"Someone to... I don't have anyone."
"Be serious."
"I swear. My only friend is the one who left me in the middle of the street."
"Jesus Christ. Jason you... fuck you, Jason. For real. Noah’s going to be back in the morning. You need to leave before then. Got it?"
Jason nodded, but you could see the drunken fog in his eyes, clouding any attempt at sincerity. "I’ll leave," he slurred. "I promise. Before Noah gets here... I’ll go."
But you couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right. He wasn’t supposed to be here. He shouldn’t be here. But you didn't even know where he lived and couldn't even drive him there.
"You should have never come," you hissed, rubbing your temples in frustration. "Why would you think this is okay? It's Noah's house! His daughter is sleeping in her bedroom right now!"
Jason blinked slowly, a smile tugging at his lips despite his condition. "You didn’t leave me out there," he muttered, as if that was some great revelation. "That’s what I always liked about you. You’ve got a good heart."
Before you could respond, Jason’s words trailed off, his body slumping further against the couch. His breathing deepened, and within moments, the rhythmic sound of snoring filled the room.
You stood there for a moment, watching him, trying to process what had just happened. This wasn’t right. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. Jason, drunk, and seeking comfort from you, was far from what you had imagined.
That was crazy. You didn't want him there. He shouldn’t have been there.
But despite everything, you couldn’t bring yourself to just leave him outside. He was still human, still someone you had cared for, once. And that damn heart of yours... Maybe I’m too soft, you thought bitterly. Maybe I’m too kind.
You sat down on the couch next to him, unable to ignore the wave of conflicting emotions that washed over you. You didn’t want him here, didn’t want to help him. But the truth was, you couldn’t leave him there, not when he was like this.
It was wrong. So wrong. He was in Noah's house.
So so fucking wrong.
But what else could you do?
As you sat in the dim light of the living room, your gaze locked on Jason’s peaceful face.
Almost like the old times.
This was a mistake.
You didn’t know how to fix this. You didn’t know if it could be fixed.
And as the hours stretched on, you were left alone with your thoughts, the sound of Jason's snoring filling the empty spaces between your anxieties as you were still sitting on the couch, processing everything.
Tomorrow would come, Jason would leave and Noah would be back, and everything would change again.
But for tonight, Jason was here.
And there was nothing you could do about it.
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Erika and Jo stumbled down the sidewalk, their laughter echoing through the quiet streets. The night had been a blast, full of music, drinks, and dancing, and they were finally going to the apartment they rented for their vacation.
"Seriously, though," Erika laughed, wiping a tear from her eye, "did you see that guy trying to dance? I swear, I thought his legs were gonna give out."
Jo chuckled, adjusting her jacket against the cool evening air. "Oh my god, I thought the same thing. He looked like he was having some kind of seizure. But you have to admit, he was really trying. Respect for that."
"Yeah, yeah, he was trying," Erika laughed. "Trying to give us secondhand embarrassment. But it was kind of adorable."
They walked in silence for a few moments, the streetlights casting soft halos on the sidewalk, until Erika suddenly froze in her tracks. Her eyes narrowed, her grin faltering as she stared down the street.
Jo, still walking, bumped into her and almost knocked her over. "Erika? What’s up?"
Erika didn’t answer immediately, still focused on something a little further up the road. She pointed towards a house, a slight tension in her voice now. "Wait... Jo. Look over there. Is that...?"
Jo squinted in the direction Erika was gesturing to, where a porch light illuminated a figure standing outside a front door, speaking to someone.
"No way," Erika muttered, her breath catching in her throat. "That’s—"
"What? Who?" Jo asked, frowning. "That’s just a girl... opening her door at... what time is it?"
Erika’s eyes were wide with disbelief, but there was no mistaking the recognition in her voice. "No, Jo. That can’t be... That’s her. That’s Noah’s girlfriend."
Jo stared at her in confusion. "What? Are you serious right now?"
Erika’s heart was pounding in her chest. She pulled out her phone, her fingers shaking slightly as she zoomed in on the scene. The girl was talking animatedly to the guy standing in front of her—no, not just any guy—this guy was tall, attractive, with messy hair, and he seemed way too close to the girl on her porch. But it was you Erika was focused on.
"Look!" Erika hissed, thrusting the phone towards Jo. "Look at her! It’s totally fucking her. Look at her hair. Oh my god. I know it’s her."
Jo blinked and took the phone, squinting at the picture. "I don’t know, Erika. Are you sure? She looks a little different than in the photos... and it’s kind of dark, so—"
"I’m telling you, Jo!" Erika almost whispered, her voice tight with excitement. "It’s her! I’ve seen her in those pictures online a million times. It’s definitely her."
Jo raised an eyebrow. "Okay, but... what about the guy? That doesn’t look like Noah."
Erika’s gaze hardened. "I don’t know who he is, but it sure as hell isn’t Noah."
Jo crossed her arms, uncertainty creeping in. "Erika, don’t you think you’re jumping to conclusions a little? It’s the middle of the night. You can’t just—"
"Shh!" Erika cut her off, practically hissing as she lowered her voice. "I’m not missing this. I need proof."
Before Jo could protest, Erika started recording the scene on her phone. The porch light illuminated the two figures clearly now, and Erika focused the lens. You were still talking to the guy, though Erika couldn’t hear the words from this distance, but the exchange looked... intimate. Too intimate. He was close to you and at some point, your hand was on his chest.
"What the hell, Erika?" Jo whispered, her voice filled with disbelief and a hint of concern. "You really shouldn’t be recording this. It’s none of our business."
"Are you kidding me?" Erika scoffed, not taking her eyes off the screen. "This is totally our business. People need to know about this. You’re just jealous because I’m about to break the internet."
Jo shook her head in disbelief. "You're insane. You know this could cause trouble, right?"
Erika shot her a look, one part playful and one part defiant. "Trouble? Jo, come on. People love drama. Imagine the reactions on Twitter when I post this. It's going to blow up. You know they’ll go wild over this. Everyone is obsessed with Noah's love life right now."
Jo rolled her eyes. "You’re unbelievable. Do whatever you want."
Erika laughed, her attention still fixed on the screen. "You’ll thank me when this goes viral. Now get ready for some real fangirl action."
As she kept recording, Erika couldn’t help but smile to herself, despite the nagging feeling in her gut. She didn’t know why, but something about this whole scene felt... off. But at the same time, she couldn’t stop herself from capturing it. After all, it wasn’t every day that you got this close to the drama of Noah fucking Sebastian’s personal life.
And if there was one thing she knew for sure, it was that this was a moment she couldn’t afford to miss.
Twitter was gonna love it.
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Tags: @anything-more-than-human @ladyveronikawrites @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @fadingangelwisp @xmads-omensx @iwasntstable @thisbicc @pathion @flowery-mess @into-the-grey @lacy1986 @tosoundlessdarkistare @stardustsirenmelody @thewrstinme
TBAF Tags: @klutzy-kay24 @mrscevans @concreteangel92 @iconic-taurus @niicoleleigh @cheyyyyr @supersquirrel1996 @respectfulrebel @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @clickmedead @missduffsblog @whenyouwannafindlove @chey-h @kenjipepsi1
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sanguineterrain · 2 days ago
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Sanne on the topic of femjay... do u think she'd like giving gifts? I feel like she's the type to shower u in gifts and act like it's nbd she didn't even think about it when she got it for u (she is lying)
ok anon I'm pretty sure this isn't what you meant buuut it's kinda related? anyway i was inspired so please enjoy awkward arkham knight femjay who doesn't know how to interact with her old best friend/girlfriend when she returns from the dead so she starts leaving gifts instead. i ❤️ my weirdo wife
ak!female!jason todd x fem!reader.
****
Someone has been leaving you presents.
Normally, you'd be freaked out. Probably, you should be freaked out anyway. How someone knows your exact dress size and what chocolate you like and your favorite flowers and your birthstone... well, it would scare anyone.
But. But the thing is. Every gift and every placement of the gift feels very familiar. It feels like the habit of an old love. Because she used to do the same. Pretty rocks or flowers found on patrol. A t-shirt for the band you liked. A kiss.
It feels like training, like muscle memory: here is how to break in without breaking anything. Here is how to leave a scene undisturbed. Lessons that a friend shared with you.
A friend you loved. A friend you mourned.
The dresses are beautiful and certainly not cheap. But they have a familiarity to their design. They're extravagant, fairytale dresses that you dreamt of wearing when you were young. Dresses you have no reason to wear now.
They aren't revealing or risqué either, and that comforts you too, even though it probably shouldn't. Bruce would be upset at your lack of self-preservation.
This is you living in the past. This is hoping for the impossible.
The jewelry is also beautiful and nothing you could wear to work or to a grocery trip. It's all necklaces and bracelets heavy with diamonds or emeralds or sapphires. But there's a single ruby ring you've received, and it's plainer than everything else. You wear that regularly, even though that definitely encourages your admiring stalker.
The gift-giving is random but they never go more than two weeks without a visit. And there's no note, no demand, nothing. It's like you have an invisible pet raven who likes bringing you trinkets that cost more than your rent.
After the seventh gift, you plan a trap. You want to face this admirer, show that you're not afraid. Well, you're a little afraid. Mostly, it's fear at the fact that you haven't called the police or Batman, even though you and Batman haven't been simpatico for a long time.
No, something stops you. The hand that leaves your gifts is a hand you know. You're certain of it.
You set up a camera behind your shuttered closet, then leave for the day.
You return to the camera gone and a beautiful gold carved statue of a dove. And a note.
Not yet.
Well, fine. You can wait. You're mad because that camera wasn't cheap, but you can wait.
Weeks pass. Gifts arrive. You make a batch of cookies as a thank you on one occasion. Three cookies are missing when you come home. You smile.
Then the night comes.
You don't know how you know it's the night you'll meet them. You just have a feeling. You've written them notes, certain they've been received. No notes have arrived for you besides the one from all those weeks ago.
You put on one of the dresses, a delicate, frilly blue creation that shows your shoulders and neck. You finish it with the sapphire necklace, one of the first gifts you received.
She slips in through your window and freezes when she sees you, even though you know she timed it so you'd be home when she came.
"Hi," you say.
She doesn't speak. She approaches you slowly, carefully. She's very tall, very muscular. Her face is covered with an intricate helmet and she wears similar armor on her body. A new hero in Gotham? Or a villain?
"Do I know you?" you ask.
She shakes her head. You study her for a moment. Glowing eyes stare back. You can't tell if she's lying. It seems like she means it: you don't know her.
"But you know me?"
Your admirer hesitates. Then she nods.
You close the distance until you're a foot apart. Her breathing remains steady but her fingers are restless.
"I like the gifts," you say. "Though I'm confused why you're giving them to me."
Her fingers still. She says nothing.
"A friend used to give me gifts too," you say quietly.
You're both startled. Why did you say that? You don't know.
"You don't want to hurt me," you say.
She shakes her head fiercely.
Suddenly, you want her to touch you. You lift your head and expose your neck. You can tell she's tracking the movement. It sends a thrill down your spine. Maybe something's wrong with both of you.
"Do you like your necklace on me?" you ask.
Touch it. Touch me. Prove you aren't a ghost.
You hear her swallow and inhale shakily. She reaches for you and lightly touches the gold chain around your neck with one gloved finger. You close your eyes. A name falls from your lips. God, you miss her.
The window creaks. You open your eyes. She is gone.
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gyubakeries · 3 days ago
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❆ 𝐠𝐲𝐮𝐛𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 : 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐬! ❆ | 𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐮 - 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 <𝟑
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❆ 𝑑𝑎𝑦 9: pre-christmas dinner | k.mg
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a/n: hi!! welcome to day 9 <333 be prepared to see some chef!mingyu haha :P i also must thank kyii and sousy for brainstorming with me for this fic, and a few others as well. love u guys <3
p.s. it definitely takes much more time to pull off an entire roast chicken, but for the sake of the fic, the process is relatively faster and mingyu is like, the masterchef or something. also im writing this the evening before a major exam and im just as cooked as the first chicken lol.
word count: 1.2k contents: mingyu x gn!reader , established relationship , ceo!mingyu , cooking , theyre gonna roast a chicken for funsies , good chef!mingyu , clumsy helper!reader , fluff , christmas fun , one (1) chicken was ..... cooked too well in this fic , im sorry chicken (or not...) , read to find out why <3
"baby! i'm home!" mingyu calls out, and that's all it takes for you to come out to the living room, only to be met by the sight of your giant of a boyfriend dragging in huge bags.
"you said you were going to buy some ice-cream," you raise an eyebrow at mingyu. "so, either you bought an entire year's worth of cookies 'n cream, or you bought stuff that we didn't need."
"you know how i get at grocery stores, especially the large, gourmet ones," mingyu pouts. "everything looks so good."
"this is exactly why you need to let me buy groceries," you sigh, grabbing one of the bags and starting to empty the contents. "your bank account won't thrive for long."
"please, we both know i have more than enough money to live comfortably," mingyu sasses. you turn away from the pantry, where you were putting away the organic pasta mingyu had bought, to face your boyfriend.
he looks absolutely adorable like this; beanie nearly slipping over his eyes, large figure bundled up in a sweater and crouching in front of the fridge, stuffing two boxes of something in the freezer.
in moments like these, it's almost impossible to imagine mingyu as the CEO of a high-tech company. trying to visualize him in the crisp suits he wears to work feels like a distant dream, especially when at home, he's just the embodiment of a golden retriever, always so soft and loving.
"yeah, i know mr. ceo," you snicker when he plops down on the floor, complaining of a backache because of crouching at a weird angle. "you don't have to flex your money."
"i'm not flexing," mingyu defends himself with wide eyes. "just saying; we could totally quit our jobs and travel the world, and we'd still have enough money to buy your dream house in the countryside of france."
"we'll see about that," you laugh. just as you finish putting all the groceries away, your stomach starts rumbling. "what's for dinner?"
"roast chicken," mingyu hums, and you notice him flitting around the kitchen, gathering spices, sauces, herbs, and lots of other things.
"you're kidding," you deadpan. "you're gonna roast a chicken?"
"yes!" mingyu grins at you, patting a box placed on the counter. "mr. chicken is here. i'm just going to let him marinade for a while before we roast."
"you're insane," you gape at how professional he looks, washing an entire chicken, patting it dry, mixing together a quick marinade, covering the chicken in it and setting it aside in a matter of thirty minutes.
"again, why aren't you a full-time chef?" you ask him. you're both munching on some snacks while he waits for the oven to finish pre-heating and the chicken to rest in the marinade.
"because i only want my baby to eat my cooking," mingyu answers, stealing some of your chips.
"you've literally cooked for all our friends."
"okay, my baby and our friends."
"and what about our future children? won't you cook for them?" you tease, and as usual, mingyu whines.
"y/n, you know what i meant," he sulks. "i didn't want to turn something i love doing into a profession that i may end up hating."
"well, i'm lucky to have experienced your amazing cooking skills," you remark, and mingyu rolls his eyes affectionately. "if you're trying to sweet talk me into giving you the last slice of cheesecake in the fridge, it's not gonna work."
"aw man," you frown, and mingyu presses a kiss to your cheek as compensation. as if on cue, the oven's timer dings, and mingyu springs into action. he takes the chicken out of the fridge, and you watch in awe as he preps a baking tray, places the chicken in it, and puts it in the oven.
he finally finishes fiddling with the settings of the oven and comes over to you, expression serious.
"babe, i have an online meeting right now. the chicken's gonna be in for an hour. can you keep an eye out for when the oven timer rings? i should be done by then, but if i'm not, just carefully take it out of the oven and set it on the counter, okay?"
"got it, chef," you mock salute, and he smiles, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. "stay alert okay? you do remember what happened last time with the cake, right?" mingyu teases.
"i got distracted by the show! it could happen to anyone," you cross your arms.
"i know, but i don't want a repeat of that," mingyu chuckles. "cleaning burnt cake wasn't exactly fun."
"i promise, gyu, i'll be extra attentive this time," you assure him, and he heads into the study for his online meeting.
to no one's surprise, you completely miss the timer.
your best friend had called you fifteen minutes after the chicken had started cooking, and what was supposed to be a five minute call regarding what dress your friend should wear to her boyfriend's office party, turned into more than an hour of gossiping about your respective office colleagues.
you only notice something is wrong when you smell something burning, and it hits you then.
the chicken.
apparently, mingyu too had smelled the burning, because he's already grabbing the tray out of the oven and placing it on the counter.
the chicken is burnt, and there's no way of salvaging it.
"min, i'm sorry-" you gasp, mortified by your mistake. "i swear i was trying to-"
"it's okay," mingyu shakes his head, setting the tray down in the sink, leaving the disaster of a roast chicken to cool before he attempts to scrape it off the tray. "i kinda thought this may happen, so i got reinforcements."
you watch with furrowed eyebrows as mingyu walks over to the fridge and pulls out another box, revealing yet another whole chicken.
the entire situation seems absurd, and all you can say is, "were they twins??"
mingyu bursts into laughter, and so do you. it's hilarious seeing his six foot-something figure double over as he nearly falls to the ground because of how hard he's laughing.
"babe, you're so silly," he wheezes, trying to catch his breath. "i just got a backup chicken, in case something went wrong with the first one."
"and you didn't bother to check if they were from the same family?" you gasp in mock offense.
"my bad," he raises his arms in surrender. "in my defense, the burnt one kinda looked like this one's cheating ex, which is why it has to go in the trash."
"hm, i'll allow it then," you nod, face serious, as if you both weren't making up ridiculous stories about chickens of all things.
"anyways, now, all you have to do is sit back, while i cook this one," mingyu instructs you.
"it was a mistake," you pout, crossing your arms and leaning against the kitchen counter. mingyu crosses over to you and pecks your lips. "i know it was baby, and it's okay. you can help me with the marinade this time, okay?"
(the way your eyes lit up in joy makes mingyu feel like he'd be okay with any food burning, as long as it gets you this happy to help him redo it.
god, he'd buy you all the chickens in the world, just to see you like this.)
- fin.
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divider made by @bernardsbendystraws !
main taglist: @lecheugo @min-imum @sousydive @livelaughloveseventeen @unlikelysublimekryptonite
@theidontknowmehn @shinwonderful @baseball-dokyeom @wonuwrites @hearts4hee
@t-102 @gyuguys @grapejuicelh @aaa-sia @cixrosie
series taglist in comments!
comment on this post to be tagged on the upcoming fics!
head to the series masterlist - here <3
head to the masterlist for more!
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ateliersss · 2 days ago
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The Huntress
Pairing: Yautja x Fem!Reader Summary: It's the first time you and your mate go on a hunt after your pregnancy. Cross-posted on AO3: here Warnings: Mild Smut, English isn't my first language Word Count: 4.412 After the Blooming Family series
⇨ I wanted to post this yesterday already, but I got a little distracted as something terrible happened last night in my city.
⇨ The long awaited hunting trip is finally here! I apologize for the long wait, but a writing slump is the most horrible thing for a writer.
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"Oh, come on, my little star. Say Mama." You pouted down at the pup in your arms. "Ma-ma."
Toyah, who seemed to be displeased that you had your hair in an updo and therefore couldn't touch your soft and shiny strands, wasn't listening to you in the slightest and instead reached up to your head with grabby hands.
"Mama, Toyah. It's Mama. Ma-ma." You tried again, but except for whine, you got nothing back from him.
A rumbling sound that could only be your mate's laugh caused you to look up with a displeased look. Mi'ytiar came closer to you until he felt Toyah's wiggling form press against his stomach and securely placed his hands in the dip of your bare waist, looking fondly down at the both of you.
"Yawne, he will not talk. Not for a while." He grunted, his thumb stroking your soft skin. "Took Akail one year."
"I know that. I just want to finally hear his voice, hear him talk." You sighed. "Remember when Akail started speaking?" You asked him with a starry look in your eyes as you looked up at your mate.
Akail as a toddler in itself had been chaotic, a whirlwind in his parents' lives, but Akail as a toddler who had just learned the ability to speak? It was mostly loud nonsense, but you found it endearing nevertheless. Every now and then, you could understand a "Mama" and, after some time, even a "Papa". You were mostly fond of the times when he would sit on your chest, hands on your cheeks, and he would just start chirping with the occasional "Mama" in between his words. That had been his version of informing about his day.
Mi'ytiar grunted in acknowledgment and his hand left your waist to reach up to pet his son's head. He had grown in the last three months, albeit only slightly. His skin had grown in intensity just as his eyes. His teeth were now tiny little spikes and the tusks of his mandibles had gotten sharper. The rest had stayed just the same. But his personality had grown as well. Like his older brother at that age — fast on his tiny legs, a combination of crawling and unsteady stumbling on his feet — he loved to explore his environment. Once, you had found him sitting outside with the Hell Hounds, even though you had put him to bed five minutes earlier. You didn't know how he had managed that and you had to hide your grin when you scolded him.
"Go?" Mi'ytiar asked with a purr and you let out a hum in agreement.
Your mate and you had planned this trip for a while now. You had been sick of it, doing nothing but lazing around in your nest with your pup as your companion to bridge the time while your mate was busy with leader business and your eldest doing his own duties. Mi'ytiar's overprotectiveness had reached new heights and you were barely allowed to leave the nest to go to the bathroom to relieve yourself without him hot on your heels. To his credit, you only needed one intake of air in one certain way for him to suggest the hunting trip before you could start your rant.
Now, you were dressed in your hunting attire similar to the one your mate was sporting. A metal chest-plate was sitting on a layer of leather that covered your body like a top but kept your arms and midriff free. The metal of the loincloth hugged your lower body like panties did while a cloth that was attached to it covered your backside, going from one hip to your other and was triangular in shape.
Everything was tailor-made, though it had been altered from time to time. The beautiful design, the carvings and the feminine touch hadn't changed at all, but your pregnancies had taken a remarkable toll on your body, with your breasts growing bigger and your hips wider.
The only thing that stayed the same was the wrist gauntlet adorning your right forearm. It wrapped around your arm, beginning at your wrist and ending near the crook, so you weren't restricted in bending it. You had a matching forearm vambrace on your other arm, though this one was merely armor. The gauntlet was a petite little thing and your preferred choice of weapon. It looked like any other gauntlet the Yautja used, though it was modified significantly. You only needed it to hunt, so most of the usual functions were removed.
Mi'ytiar placed a hand on the nape of your neck and guided you through the door and out of your home. After a short growl, the Hell Hounds stayed put. They had excitedly greeted you with wagging tails but now let themselves dejectedly sink on the floor again to lie on their stomachs.
The walk to the docking platforms for their ships was calm, though you sometimes cooed back at Toyah in answer who had started to babble. Here and there, you stopped for a few minutes because some of his people had to inform their leader about this or ask him about that, but you didn't pay them any mind. You only did when a Female approached you to take a look at your pup and you presented him to her like a proud cat mother would with her kitten. The Female chirped at him and complimented his development. You would have spent hours chatting with her and about what a precious boy your pup was if not for your mate to gently stir you away.
You stopped again at the ship that was readied for your departure under the watchful eye of Akail. You never understood why they needed to make such a spectacle out of it. You would only go hunting for a few hours.
"Akail." Mi'ytiar addressed his son who turned around to greet his father properly, hands on each other's forearms and forehead pressed together.
"My little warrior." You chimed in. "Are you excited about your alone-time with your little mei'hswei?"
Akail bristled before he let out a grunt you would label as a "Yes." It was more than you would have received from him two months ago. Your eldest still had some resentment towards your youngest, but the murderous glint had disappeared from his eyes since your little talk a while ago. It took him baby steps, but steps nonetheless towards a better relationship. Toyah was oblivious to his brother's displeasure about his short existence and behaved like he always did with his family, with happy shrieks and grabby hands.
There had been this one moment where you had coincidentally stumbled upon Akail holding Toyah in his arms, pointing towards one of the skulls on the walls of your home, showing him their father's trophies. Toyah, of course, didn't understand one word but was simply happy to be near his brother. You had to quickly compose yourself and walked backwards to not disrupt this wonderful moment. It was like there was a conflict inside Akail that told him to continue disliking his brother for what he did to you, but after your talk, there was a voice that told him to try, as hard as it might be.
You smiled up at Akail and handed Toyah over into his arms. He gingerly took him — you had to bite your lip to not comment on how he suddenly knew how to professionally hold the pup as if he had done it before — and looked down at his little brother in disdain.
Grinning to yourself, you continued, "I already fed him, but if he should be hungry again, go to Zakui. She also knows how to change him. Right now, he is still full of energy, so I would suggest bringing him to T'ihtuial who watches some pups of other Females when they're too busy. He will tire himself out on his own. And should he actually grow tired, then put him in his crib and turn the small light on. Oh, and don't stop keeping an eye on him." You said and watched him to see if he understood. "Don't. Let. Him. Out. Of. Your. Eyesight." You empathized every word because you knew Toyah would find a way. He was determined like that. "He seems to like being anywhere but where you want him to be."
After another grunt, you pushed yourself up on your tiptoes to place a kiss on Toyah's cheek and another on Akail's forehead after he leaned down for you. "Bye, my boys. Be nice to each other and behave, alright?"
"Bye, Mama." Akail rumbled while Toyah only gurgled a laugh.
With a smile, you turned around and met Mi'ytiar halfways who placed a hand on your lower back, his scales rough on your soft skin. Together you entered the ship through the ramp and he wasted no time starting the engines and taking off.
Thanks to the autopilot, making the ship fly to its destination on its own, you could easily make yourself comfortable on Mi'ytiar's lap. You talked, exchanged sweet nothings, and snuggled with each other. It had been quite some time since it had just been the two of you and without any of your pups. The only time you did have your togetherness was once in a blue moon at night when everyone was asleep. Well, when most were asleep because most certainly didn't include Toyah who, like his brother in his toddler stage, needed to spend even the nightly hours with you. It was exhausting, but thankfully, the only downside of pups at his age.
"Where are we going, my love?" You asked him after a while of playing with his fingers, stroking his knuckles and massaging his palm.
"Yiulk." He answered with a soothing rumble of his chest, showing just how relaxed he was after God knows how long it had been since the last time it happened. "You remember? You hunted Wikki before carrying Toyah. You really good at it, yawne. Very proud." He purred and fondled your nape, his claws playing with the tiny hairs that had already loosened from your updo.
You smiled with a soft blush dusting your cheeks, mumbling "Charmer." before sitting up with your knees on his knees and your arms snaking around his head to hold the back of it. "Makes me want to give you one more. Right here, right now." You purred seductively, twirling one of his dreads around your pointer finger.
Mi'ytiar was about to reply, but the nav started beeping and signaled your arrival. Turning around in his lap, you could see the bright green-colored forest planet that was Yiulk. There were no humanoid beings living on the surface, only animals ready to be hunted. There were over a hundred species living there, both predator and prey, and you loved the various difficulty levels those species offered. Some were as simple as a sloth and some a little harder like a cheetah. And they were so fascinating, you loved to stay back and watch them, study them. If you had the equipment — a camera, paper, a typewriter — you would write a factual book where each and every one of them had their own double-page.
You readied yourself for the landing and quickly exited the ship with Mi'ytiar in tow. You were greeted by a wall of trees, standing so close to each other, it was a miracle he found a landing spot so easily. You took a deep intake of air and were immediately hit by the sweet aroma that emitted from the trees around you. Mi'ytiar had told you about them on your first hunt on Yiulk and he had seemed rather amused by your amazement, which was no surprise because Earth had looked so dull to you for a very long time.
The ground was soft as you took measured steps forward and through the jumble of trunks. Your eyes were fixed on the dark, earthy forest floor as you scanned it for traces of whatever animals you would find first. The environment was ideal for Shuxxi. The air was humid, the trees were covered with their preferred moss, and if you stopped in your tracks and pricked up your ears, you could hear the sounds of splashing water. Your best guess was to follow whatever source it was coming from as Shuxxi loved swimming and deep waterholes were rare on Yiulk.
You continued on your way, slowly and quietly.
While your mate preferred the chase, you put your strength into stealth. Rather than barreling towards the prey, you stayed back and observed their behavior, even killed from a distance. And although Mi'ytiar's fingers were already itching, he held himself back when you climbed up the large rocks that had emerged behind the trees after walking quite a distance. You slowly crawled up and to the edge until you had an overlook over the area to where you had tracked your prey.
You smiled at your success as your gaze wandered over the small herd, from one to the other. They were pretty for something that looked like a mix of deer and sheep. You could at least discern seven of them, a male and six females, all of them nibbling on the bluish moss growing on the trees around the clearing.
You looked down at your wrist gauntlet and skimmed through the different projectiles. You chose your favorite one — spike-like arrows of razor-sharp metal that were the size of an unused pencil and as thick as your pointer finger. You lifted your arm to aim at the one standing the farthest away from you. You enjoyed challenging yourself again and again when you were hunting a species that was already familiar to you.
And for today, you had chosen easy prey, so it wasn't that challenging. They were child's play, but something to gain back the mobility and stamina you had lost during your pregnancy and bed rest after giving birth.
You were about to pull the trigger, your aim secure on the grazing animal, when you felt a warm breath fanning against the side of your head and a hand on the back of your thigh slowly traveling up under the cloth attached to the loin cloth. You wiggled your hips and tried to throw him off, but when you only got a deep rumbling back — a laugh, probably — you shot him an angry "Mi'ytiar!" through gritted teeth.
"Distraction. Typical in environment like this. Need to get feel for it." He only grumbled against your ear.
His body was now pressed to yours, practically lying half on top of you, with his face nuzzled into your nape. You could feel him tug on your tied-up hair until it was hanging loosely down your head and he could bury his face into it, inhaling your scent. His hand snaked around your waist and to your stomach, pulling you back into him.
"Concentrate."
You tried, but your arm had gotten a little shaky as well as your focus.
"Mi'ytiar." You said slowly, warningly, when you felt his hand dipping lower.
"Shoot, yawne." He growled into your hair and started to rut against your thigh.
You let out a growl of your own, used the only part of your brain that was still able to work logically and took your shot. Your prey dropped dead when your arrow pierced its eye, killing it instantly, and spooked the rest of the herd that soon took off.
You rolled to the side and away from Mi'ytiar's rutting hips. You gave him a mean look with glinting eyes before you climbed down the rock and quickly approached your prize. You looked it over. Maybe you could use the gorgeous black fur with red speckles as another cushion for your nest. You already had four of them, but another wouldn't hurt.
"You did good." You heard Mi'ytiar behind you.
You only needed to stand up and turn on your heel to find him looming right above you. You wanted to give him a little piece of mind after he almost made you miss your target, but he looked so deliciously feral right now that the words died on your tongue. His eyes were wild, his chest was heaving and the muscles of his chest and stomach were twitching and contracting. You wanted to jump him at this very moment.
"You know…" You purred and pressed yourself against him, dug your fingers into the flesh of his hips, and pushed him backwards against one of the nearby trees. "I believe this was one of the possible scenarios where we created our firstborn." You mused, your voice taking a lower pitch with every word. "Hunting, me killing something and then you fucking me against a tree, filling me up so much that your seed dripped down to my ass and on the dirty forest floor."
Mi'ytiar let out a roar, grabbed you by your shoulders, turned you both around, and pushed you against the tree trunk.
You groaned, but not because of pain. Whenever he would manhandle you, use his brute strength to put you in whatever position to his liking, it turned you on a little more and reduced you to nothing but the basic need of graving him buried in your depths.
Patience was never something for Mi'ytiar when you were the only thing on his mind and instead of going through the process of opening the buckles that connected your thigh-high boots to your loin cloth, he just ripped them apart and tore off the pieces of metal and leather that hid your dripping arousal. Your hands immediately flew to his own covers, disparately pulling and tearing on them to free the throbbing piece of muscle that must be hiding behind it, but Mi'ytiar gripped your wrist.
"No." He groaned and pulled your hands away.
"But-"
"No."
Mi'ytiar might crave you, but he didn't want to mate with you just yet. "Three months." Cahrein had said to refrain from mating with each other to let your body heal after birthing Toyah. Those months were already over, but he wanted to be careful. Your body was a treasure, so magnificent, so beautiful. He wanted to give you all the time you needed and more, no matter how tempting it was to see it nakedly sprawled across the furs of your nest.
You reached for his loin cloth again. You could at least please him with your mouth, feel his heavy manhood down your throat, taste his heady aroma, and get drunk on it. You were desperate for him and you wanted to feel him inside you, even if it wasn't in the way you wanted for months now.
But Mi'ytiar once more pulled your hands away from it and instead lowered himself down on his knees. He grabbed you by the thighs and hoisted you up against the tree until your pussy was on eye level with him, placing your legs on his shoulder until you were practically sitting on them.
You hissed when the tusks of his mandibles dug into the skin of your ass cheeks and pelvis as they clamped around you after opening them up. Your breath hitched when you felt his own hitting your already dripping and twitching folds, and your hand grabbed ahold of a few of his dreads, keeping you grounded both on his shoulders and in the moment.
"Mi'ytiar…" You mewled.
And Mi'ytiar immediately listened. The tip of his tongue darted out and gave your folds one, two, three licks before it circled around your pulsing clit. Greedily, he lapped at your leaking hole before he plunged his tongue into you, wasting no more time, and groaned when your sweet ambrosia filled his mouth.
Meanwhile, you were a quivering mess on top of his shoulder. With your one hand already seeking support by holding onto his dreads, your other hand had reached up and above your head to dig your nails into the bark of the tree. Your eyes had fallen close and your head had lolled back. Your thighs trapped his head between them and you used them to push him impossibly closer to where you needed him most. Your hips rocked against his mouth, seeking for more.
And Mi'ytiar was soaking everything up as he ate his fill. You looked stunning in this very moment. Your face was flushed, your mouth parted, lips glistening with salvia, and your eyes were squeezed shut with the occasional twitch of the eyelid. It all made him even hungrier and he started twisting his tongue.
"Oh my... ahhh, Mi'ytiar!" You moaned, dragging the last syllable of his name out into a long, high-pitched squeal.
When your grip on his dreads tightened before you pulled on them, he growled into you, the vibrations adding to the stimulation and making your back arch. His tongue drove deeper and the deeper he got, the thicker it stretched you out.
"Tanhì… I’m…"
You couldn't even finish your sentence. With a scream of his name, you came as your thighs tightened around his head. In the orgasmic bliss that hit you like a train, you faintly heard the pitiful whine Mi'ytiar groaned into your depths and, therefore, almost missed it. Luckily, you didn't and thus, you immediately knew. You could tell by the signs when you looked down through half-lidded eyes — his claws digging into your thighs, the jerky motions of his hips, the unsteady up-and-down movement of his chest from heavy breaths.
He'd just ejaculated from eating you out.
You didn't need to see the evidence dripping from his loin cloth covered crotch. You knew because it hadn't been the first time it happened. No, there was this one moment decades ago when Mi'ytiar and you slowly but surely got to know each other on an intimate level, step by step. You had explored your bodies and discovered the multiple aspects of mating together. For someone who had no lips and no mouth per se, he had made you cum harder than on the rare occasion when one of your former lovers reluctantly agreed to pleasure you with their tongue. And Mi'ytiar, who never had tasted the paradise between a Female's legs, came across the furs and blankets after your sweetness hit his taste buds mere seconds earlier.
"Tanhì…" You purred and placed your hands on either side of his head to pull him back a little.
He retracted the tusks of his mandibles where they had been digging into your skin, eliciting a hiss from you, and tugged them back to his face. You smiled softly down at him when he nuzzled his face into your belly, purring in content, and you put your hand on top of his head, your thumb stroking his forehead.
You couldn't wait until you would finally be able to truly mate with him again.
When you went back home — after hunting down the rest of the herd to bring food back to the clan — you were greeted by a grumpy-looking Akail who dropped his little brother into your arms when they reached out to greet him, wanting to hand back the responsibility to watch over the pup as soon as possible.
You had asked him if something happened and the only thing Akail said was that he had found the little parasite in the most impossible places, although he had just been put into his crib throughout the few hours their parents were gone. He had found him in your bedroom, in the bathroom, outside with the Hell Hounds once again, and crawling down the path to your home. There even had been a Male with little Toyah in his arms at the clan leader's abode, asking Akail what the hell the pup was doing at the landing platform next to one of the Scout Ships.
You actually considered strapping Toyah to your chest every hour the day had to offer at that moment.
You looked down at the pup resting in the crook of your arm. "You are a little troublemaker, hm, you little rascal? You made it so difficult for your big brother, didn't you? Put him through so much trouble." You cooed down at him.
You and Mi'ytiar started walking side by side, his hand securely placed on your waist. The ship you had used for your trip was taken care of and the hunted prey was being carried out of it to store it. Your mate offered nods to the Yautja of his clan who greeted the three of you on your way home, but his attention was rather occupied by you and his son who was babbling nonsense. Until…
"Ma!"
You stopped dead in your tracks and looked down at your pup with wide eyes.
He did, didn't he?
"My little star, what was that?" You asked, barely holding in the bursting happiness. "Can you say that again? Did you say Ma?"
Toyah was looking at you, beautiful yellow eyes partly closed from the — what you called, although it was pretty unlikely — smile. He was babbling more and more non-coherent stuff before another "Ma!" slipped from his mouth while he reached out to your face with grabby hands.
It may be just another random syllable mixed with the other typical chatter of a three-month-old pup, but to you, it was a win.
"Yes, Toyah, Ma! It's Ma! You are such a clever little boy, aren't you? My sweet and clever boy!" You praised the pup before you turned to Mi'ytiar with a smug grin while he looked down at you with what looked like an amused glint in his eyes. "That's two for me, my love."
He then watched you continue on your way home, listening to the receding exclamations of "Such a clever boy, my Toyah!" and "Already knowing how to say Ma!" and that familiar warmth bloomed inside his chest. It happened with every smile, every crinkling of your eyes, every caress of your soft hands on his skin, the sound of your voice.
He chose good, he chose right to have you as his Life Mate. Even without pups, you were an incredible enrichment to his life. The way you treated him, appreciated him, loved him, he could not have been luckier. And after you brought your two wonders into his world, it only confirmed his beliefs that you would be a great mother, too.
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taintandviolent · 1 day ago
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Baby, it's cold outside ; Oz Cobb x Reader
summary: It's Christmas Eve in Gotham City, and it's bitterly cold, but you're warm up in Oz's penthouse. When he comes home from an event, you're waiting, wrapped up like a little present.
word count & w a r n i n g s: K | older man/younger woman, established relationship, making out, shameless smut, unprotected sex, foreplay in a Santa outfit, santa kink????, christmas themes, very inappropriate use of christmas puns/phrases/themes, fingering (female receiving), festive dirty talk, praise kink, very brief and light bondage, .
a/n: requested by a few anons! I hope it satisfies your festive whore needs for this man!!! not beta read and kinda rushed, but such is life. I wanted to get this out before Christmas Eve. Also speaking of Eve's.... Eve is... MIA I don't know, it's a plot hole, it didn't work out between them, yada yada, but she's not apart of this. all in the name of spice / reader's benefit! banners by @/strangergraphics!
↓ full fic under cut! ↓ / playlist here / ao3 link here! / I don’t have a taglist anymore, but please turn on post notifications if you’d like to be notified of future fics!
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Gotham had been hit by a massive blizzard, but you weren’t complaining. It was Christmas Eve, and the snow was welcomed. At least by you, who didn’t have to be out in it. Big, fluffy flakes drifted down from the clouds, and you had a perfect view of the snow-covered city from the large windows. With the music that you’d put on, it felt altogether very Christmas-y.
You were enjoying the snow by yourself for the time being. Oz had left late that afternoon in a Santa suit. Some favor he had to do – couldn’t get out of it. The way he bristled every time you brought it up told you not to ask for too much information.
Christmas was really important to Oz – you assumed it was a favored holiday of his mother’s or something. Which was unsurprising. Everything, in some way, rooted back to his mother. You had come to terms with that, and accepted it. Played into it, even. 
He was insistent on a tree. A big one.
By the first of December, he had a massive one picked out for the living room, and a smaller (but still substantial) one for his mother’s room and had them delivered to the penthouse. You two decorated the big one that night, with cocktails and music. As with everything in his life, Oz was particular about decorating. After a few drinks, you could admit, your tree decorating skills were lacking. You’d lazily hang them in clusters, and Oz would fuss after you, rearranging it until it looked like it had fallen out of a magazine. 
But tonight, the tree was perfect. You crouched down in front of it, flicking a particularly ample bow atop a package. It wobbled and glittered, catching the twinkling lights above it. Most of the presents were yours – you knew this. Every time you turned around, it seemed there were another two tucked under the tree. 
“Doll?” 
Oz’s gruff voice comes from the hallway, echoing against the walls. Your head snaps up, and you straighten, pushing yourself off of your knees – you hadn’t heard him come in. You wrap the fluffy white robe tighter around your body, making sure that it isn’t revealing anything of your surprise. You’d been in the lingerie for a few hours, not knowing when he’d get home.
He rounds the corner, lumbering in with the signature gait that you’ve come to love. Though he’s ditched the hat and beard, he’s still in the classic red and white suit. It suits his stature and you screw your lips up in an amused smile, trying not to laugh at how miserable he looks. Like an excited child, you gallop over, pressing your hands against the plush suit. You trace circles in the fabric and look up at him with your doe eyes and pouting lips. 
“Ohohoh, Santa,” you coo, playfully. “You’re early.” 
Seeming embarrassed, Oz pulls your hand off his chest, holding it for a moment before bringing it to his lips. A small kiss is placed upon your knuckles before he finally speaks. “Ah, cut it out. Lemme’ get outta’ this fuckin’ thing and I’ll –” 
“Ozzy…” You back up, your hands falling to the tie of your robe. “You know, it’s customary to open a present on Christmas Eve.” 
He stops, mid-turn, and squints at you. He knows you well enough to know that mischievous glimmer in your eyes ain’t going away.
“So, open this one.” 
In a fluid motion, you untie the sash and shrug the robe off your shoulders. It falls to the floor, revealing your festive lingerie that you’d picked out weeks ago. You watch Oz’s eyes light up as he takes in the visual in front of him, starting at your feet, which are covered in a pair of red nylons, thigh highs. His gaze travels upwards, pausing to savor the look of the garters stretching over your lush thighs. Your bare stomach tenses at his gaze, before finally, he gets to the bra; a giant red bow that conceals the majority of your ample breasts. He can’t see it, but your nipples harden under the fabric, a reaction to the chill of the room and the heavy weight of his gaze. 
“Fuck…” He shifts, turning back around to face you fully. 
“But I dunno’.... Only good boys get their presents.” 
The words hit him like a ton of bricks. Oz swallows hard and licks his lips. He jerks his head to the side and lets out a breathy laugh, before holding his hands out.  
“Baby, who is dressed like fuckin’ Santa here? I think I’m the one that gets to decide who is naughty or nice, huh?” 
Your fingers toy with the edge of the bra’s bow, teasingly. “Hmm. Well, we all know that I’ve been a good girl this year.” 
“Yeah,” he says, limping over to you. His hands ghost over your nearly bare hips. “Yeah, you fuckin’ have.” 
You look down at his hands, then shoot your gaze back up to his brown eyes. Languidly, you grab his hand, bringing it to your lips to graze your teeth over the pads. Oz shifts his shoulder, trying to fend off the oncoming erection, no doubt. Something about pitching a tent in a Santa suit feels immoral, but you clearly ain’t on his side on this one. 
 “Don’t I get to sit on Santa’s lap and tell him what I want? Huh?” 
You drop your hands, pulling his with them and tugging him towards the velvet sofa. It faces the windows and the tree, which is an incredibly picturesque and romantic background to fuck to, you think. You yank a little harder, though he’s standing stiff, watching you with hesitant eyes. 
“C’mon Ozzy….. C’mooooon.”
Finally, he concedes to your pulling and follows you to the couch, allowing you to guide him to the middle cushion. With a sharp shove, you push him backwards. He hits the couch with a grunt and looks up at you with those big cow eyes of his  – the ones that you can’t resist, no matter what you do. 
He licks his lips again. “What is this, huh?” 
You tap his nose and bend at the waist to stroke his plush-covered thighs. He’s being good; his red trousers aren’t straining yet. You frown playfully, making sure he sees your pitiful little pout. “Where’s your Christmas spirit, hmm?” 
Your hands continue their trailing up to his groin, and one hand palms his cock outside of his pants. Oz shifts his hips backwards at the sudden contact, and he hisses through his teeth.
“Movin’ your way down the list, sweetheart.” 
“Me?” You gasp. It’s a gentle, girlish sound and you feign shock. Your hand grips his cock a little tighter. “I’m the best girl in the world. I’d never be on the naughty list.” 
He chuckles low and looks down at himself. He feels the telltale heat rushing down between his legs, and it won’t be long before the fabric fights against his hardening length. “I dunno’...”
Your hand abandons its post and moves up to his wide stomach, where you quickly unbuckle the large black belt, sliding it through the loops. You throw it around his neck and pull him forward until his nose bumps into your cheek, and his lips meet yours. You kiss him long and hard, tasting him and whatever alcohol was leftover from the event. 
All at once, Oz lets out a deep groan, and reaches up to pull you into his lap. “C’mon, sweetheart. Sit on Santa’s lap, then.” 
You titter happily, and replace the belt with your arms. One knee at a time, you straddle him and lower yourself down. He doesn’t bother putting on a Santa-esque accent when he asks you what you want for Christmas this year, but does throw in a teasing ‘little girl’. 
You hum and raise your eyes to the tall ceilings, thinking. “Well let’s see… should I play Santa Baby for you? Been an awful good girl…” 
“Why don’t you tell me what you really want?” 
Your gaze falls heavy to his, and you smirk, leaning forward. You position your lips next to his ear and whisper a string of festively phrased, lewd desires that make his lips quirk up in a pleased smirk. 
“Stuff your stocking, huh?” he repeats. 
You nod and as if to punctuate your sentence, you grind your hips against his lap and take note of the stiffness that’s there now. A pleased smirk contorts your lips as you look below your bodies. Amidst all the red fabric, there’s a distinct outline, the fabric tenting as his cock swells from all of your teasing. 
You push yourself up on your knees. As you grip the sides of your panties, you lean forward to tug them over the curve of your ass. The position puts your bow-clad cleavage in Oz’s face and he snags the opportunity to kiss the tops of your breasts. “Mm-mm…” 
You pull them down your thighs, until they rest in the crook of your knees. Oz wastes no time in bringing one of his hands up to her. His fingers stroke her delicately, admiring every inch of her, watching as your hips buck and jerk when he nears the already slick slit. 
“This all for me?” 
“Baby, it’s always all for you. ‘Cause you’re always so good, aren’t you, Ozzy?”  
Between your legs, you feel his hips rise instinctively. He’s hard now, and the tip of his middle finger glides between your folds. You whimper and grip his broad shoulder tight, digging your perfectly manicured nails into the fabric. 
As an afterthought, you bring both hands down to his chest. Fluidly, you slip both hands underneath the jacket, and push it over his shoulders, revealing the white shirt underneath. He’s got his suspenders on, which you immediately tug on. You find them incredibly sexy, something that while he never understood, he appreciates. 
His finger plunges into your warm, wet cunt and sets there a moment, just feeling her.You clench around him, and he pulls out, replacing it with two. The girth of his two fingers is always so satisfying, filling you as he pumps in and out. 
His tongue juts out, mere centimeters from your center. He’s not close enough to taste her, but god he wants to. You can tell; the way he licks his lips repeatedly, his eyes locked on his fingers as they slip repeatedly from your slick cunt. She clenches around his thick digits while you moan above him, resting your cheek on the side of his head.
Finally, after a few more pumps, he withdraws his fingers and you immediately reel back, disappointed. He brings them to his mouth, sucking them clean. 
“Fuck,” he murmurs around them. 
The visual has you leaking and clenching around nothing. You long for the filled feeling again, and wiggle your hips to remind him. You reach behind your back, and unclip the bra, letting your tits fall free. “Ozzy, don’t stop…” 
Without another word, Oz lifts you up with both hands, and sets you down on the sofa next to him. Using the arm of the chair, he pushes himself up and turns to face you. Slipping your hands over the silky velvet, you flip over and push your ass up into the air. He makes a fist around your panties and tugs them down over your ankles. He flings them towards the tree, and you can’t help but let out a little chuckle when they catch on a branch, hanging there as one of the most lewd decorations you’ve ever seen. 
Oz pulls your attention back, taking a fistful of your exposed ass. “This pussy is the best fuckin’ present, sweetheart. There ain’t nothin’ I want more than this….” 
You let out a humiliating whine as he toys with her from behind, his fingers sweeping over your entrance. His thumb catches the side of her, and he pulls her apart, exposing the slick, glistening flesh. 
“Shit, baby… fuckin’ soakin’ wet.” 
He pulls the suspenders off his shoulders, and kicks the trousers down. It’s a bit of struggle to get his briefs down, but he finally does it, and grunts, shuffling closer to you and hoisting his good leg up onto the sofa behind you. 
Taking himself in one hand while still holding you open with the other, Oz slips his fat tip inside. It’s enough to make you whimper, desperately, but you know the moans will come as soon as he plunges himself inside. Though Oz loves every position, he particularly likes taking you from behind. He loves watching as he disappears into you, your dripping cunt swallowing him whole with every thrust. 
“Fuck me, Ozzy… fuck me, please, baby…” 
“Heh, don’t gotta’ ask me twice.” he replies, before pushing himself a little further in. His thick cock stretches you wide and you arch your back up, unable to contain the moans that tumble from your mouth. 
“That’s it… mhm…. Just like that - fuck!” 
Your hips meet him halfway, and Oz sinks himself all the way in, fucking into you hard with an immediate rhythm. Your stomach tightens with the waves of pleasure, your hands gripping the side of the sofa hard. 
“Oh my god, oh my g— You’re… you’re so fuckin’ good, Oz. You’re so fuckin’ good, oh my god. N-nobody’s better than you, baby…” 
Though Oz usually fucks you speechless, you’ve gotten in the habit of verbally praising him. If you don’t, he’ll ask for it anyway. It’s something that deeply arouses him, and makes him fuck you all the harder. Which he does. He groans and ruts his hips against your ass, filling the room with the slapping of your bodies as they collide. Silently, you’re glad for the music, which disguises some of the erotic sounds. 
“How’s that dick feel, huh? Tell me it’s good.”
You nod, your mouth dry from breathing so hard. “It’s so good. Big, thick cock feels s-so….” Your sentence is shattered by a string of high-pitched moans, but you quickly regain composure and finish it off. “...good!”
He continues humping your ass, driving himself as far in as he can. The head of his cock repeatedly hits the deepest part of your core, and your eyes roll back in your head. You only need a few more moments of his relentless bullying before your cunt flutters around him, glazing him in warm slick. The dizzying high of the orgasm wraps its hands around your head, forcing it to fall heavy onto the sofa.
The sensation sends Oz over the edge – and he’s genuinely surprised he’s lasted this long. He tenses, his hips lose their rhythm as he shudders over you, bucking and stammering words of pleasure. His release coats his cock as he pulls out of you. 
“God damn,” he pants.
You nod, smushing your face against the cushion. “Yeah. You really…” you swallow. “ Decked my halls.” 
Oz wants to tell you to knock it off, but all he can do is laugh. As he pulls himself from you, his gaze falls to an oblong present under the tree. It’s a necklace; diamonds, with a purple garnet and an amethyst dangling in the middle. Once he showers, he decides he’s gonna give it to you. 
“I’ll be back, doll. Don’t get dressed. I wanna see this present on ya’. Stay just like that.”
 So, you do. 
His cock was enough of a present, but you aren’t about to complain to a man like him. 
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nachrosas · 3 hours ago
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CHRISTMAS SURPRISE | s.reid x reader
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summary: in which spencer asks you an important question on christmas morning. pairing: spencer reid x reader content warnings: none, just pure fluff! word count: 849 a/n: night, night! posting this tonight because tomorrow i will be busy with work and christmas eve preparations! i had fun writing this one and i really hope you guys like it! feedback is always appreciated! also, my inbox is always open to chat (i love to talk and meet new people)! till the next one!
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The pale light of Christmas morning flooded into the room through the slightly closed curtain gaps. The Christmas tree in the corner of the room blinked softly, each colorful twinkle reflecting off the delicate ornaments you had hung together weeks ago. The comforting scent of hot chocolate filled the air, mingling with the faint hint of cinnamon from the candles burning on the mantelpiece.
You were curled up on the sofa, a soft blanket wrapped around your shoulders, while Spencer was sitting next to you, legs crossed and a steaming mug between his hands. His glasses were a little crooked, and a messy lock of hair fell over his forehead, but he seemed oblivious, concentrating on something he was trying to hide behind his body.
“Is everything all right, Honey?” you asked, with a slight smile.
“It's just that you always look so beautiful in the morning,” he murmured with a shy smile, his eyes sparkling with something other than Christmas lights. Before you could reply, he bent down slightly to pick something up from the floor. “I have one last present for you.”
The way he held the small package wrapped in red and gold paper made your heart soar, but you tried to disguise your excitement, accepting the gift with slightly trembling hands.
“You'll like it, I think.” he said, looking away for a moment, but not before you noticed the blush that took over his cheeks.
You smiled suspiciously and began to undo the wrapping, just to tease him slowly. “Spencer Reid, what are you up to?”
He moved closer to you, trying to look relaxed. “Just… open it.” he mumbled, looking away again, but not without biting the corner of the underside.
When you removed the paper and opened the lid of the box, you found a small book, with a handmade cover and his unmistakable handwriting written in gold: Our Story. Your fingers gently brushed across the cover before opening the first page. A brief description accompanied by a photo of the first coffee you shared.
Each page was a journey through time — the first meeting, a lazy afternoon in the park, the trip that seemed to end in a huge disaster, but which turned out to be unforgettable. Some pages had little pressed flowers or funny notes next to the photos.
Your fingers slid along the edge of the last page of the book, curious to see how it would conclude the collection of memories that seemed so carefully crafted. When the page turned, the emptiness almost disconcerted you. There were no photos, just a single sentence written in his precise handwriting:
“Will you marry me?”
For a moment, the world seemed to stop. Your heart raced, and the words on the page began to jumble together, clouded by tears that you didn't even realize were there. When you finally managed to raise your eyes, Spencer was kneeling in front of you. The book still trembled slightly in his hands, but he looked like a statue of serenity. His eyes, however, betrayed his anxiety, shining with a mixture of nervousness and hope.
“I… didn't know how to say it perfectly.” he began, his voice low and charged with emotion. “So I thought the best way was to show you how much you mean to me, how every moment with you is a story I want to keep forever.”
He opened the small box he was holding, revealing a ring that glowed softly under the colored lights. “So, here I am. Do you want to be my next story? Will you marry me?”
You couldn't contain your emotional laughter, a sob escaping at the same time as a huge smile formed on your face. The book slipped from your hands onto the sofa as you leaned over to hug it, the words finally finding their way out.
“Yes.” you said, your voice laced with emotion. “Yes, Spencer, I want to marry you.”
His heart seemed to beat so loudly that you were sure he could hear it. Spencer was still kneeling in front of you, the ring gleaming on his trembling hand, and your eyes met his - hopeful, nervous, full of love. His fingers on yours were gentle, but you could feel the slight tremor as he made sure the ring fitted perfectly. 
When your eyes returned to him, Spencer was already getting up, pulling you close to him. “I still can't believe you said yes,” he murmured, a nervous smile forming on his lips.
“How could I say no?” you replied, before leaning in to kiss him.
The kiss was soft, sweet, and full of unspoken promises. The lights on the Christmas tree in front of you flashed, reflecting off the tears you hadn't yet wiped away and Spencer's eyes, which now shone as brightly as the ring on your hand.
When you separated, he leaned his forehead against yours, still holding your hands. “Merry Christmas, Sweetheart.” he whispered, his voice as soft as a secret.
“Merry Christmas,” you replied, smiling, knowing that this was the beginning of the best present of all.
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ang3lmoans · 4 hours ago
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Angel’s mind went blank. He laid back in the bed listening to Garam be rather vulnerable. Listening intensely his eyes shifted from his best friend's eyes and down to his lips. The exaggerated pout and his apology. How could everything Garam did be this cute? The other man’s ability to apologize properly was something he envied about his friend. He smiled trying to find the right words to make his apology when his best friend's fingertips moved over his torso. His breathing hitched as his gaze finally left his face. Angel bit into his bottom lip attempting to prevent his excitement from showing elsewhere. His eyebrows pressed together and his hands clenched. His nerves lasted seconds seeing how red Garam became. A smirk spread across his face. “Now you are all shy? “ he teased. Then Garam was gone. Hiding under the covers probably embarrassed. Angel now sat up shifting to hover over his best friend. For a moment he hovered giving the man a chance to reveal himself on his own. Their eyes scanned over the fabric wanting to see more of his best friend's cute faces. Within minutes Angel grew impatient carefully pulling the blanket down, “Baby don't hide from me” Angel cooed smiling as he could see Garam once more. He couldn't hide his joy. Listening to his longest crush saying he wanted a relationship with him. More importantly when they were both ready. Even going as far as to tell him he could do whatever he wanted. Angel, shook his head knowing Garam didn't have any idea what he just set himself up for. “Let’s revisit all of this when you are sober.” He wanted to say so much. Wear his heart on his sleeve the way Garam makes it seem so easy to do. Nonetheless, he looked over Garam’s side profile pressing a kiss to his cheek, “can you look at me?” he whispered into his ear. Angel waited patiently smiling as he could see his face. It didn't take long until he found himself leaning down inches from the other's lips. Angel hesitated for a moment unsure if this was the right choice. Still, he connected their lips. Garam’s lips felt warm and soft, just as he pictured in his head. He tasted of beer which Angel didn't mind as long as it was him. His Garam. He pulled back just enough to look over the smaller man’s face as he immediately apologized, “I’m sorry I couldn't resist. Why are you being so cute?” His eyes were glued to the other. Taking in every detail of his face. How red and glowing it was. “Rest. We both need rest” Angel said softly but the words were empty. He didn't move from his hovering position wanting Garam to push him away. The raven-haired man could still feel the fingertips on his torso. Everything inside him was screaming out for Garam. However Angel knew he was only ready for a kiss.
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even though the two of them fought, garam still trusted himself in the man's hands. he was positive the other wouldn't do anything to intentionally hurt him, at least physically. "you wouldn't drop me," he replied confidently. when angel retorted on his towel dropping, garam getting to see that something he'd like, his body stiffened, his grip on angel's hand tightening for a moment, but he hadn't let it stop him from pulling the other to his room. "maybe i'd like that," he mumbled even though he knew he shouldn't have said something. garam watched as angel pulled the blankets back for him, his posture relaxing as his head tilted to the side. he knew angel was only being so nice right now because garam was drunk, he was sure there was at least an inkling inside of him that wanted to yell at him or something akin to, but the fact that he could be holding anything negative he felt back made garam feel warm inside. he pushed aside how he was feeling to take care of garam, how was he supposed to still be angry with angel when he took care of him so well. he crawled into the man's bed, only going as far as to tuck his legs under the blanket until angel had left to get dressed, himself. while angel was in the bathroom, garam ended up climbing out of the man's bed so he could take his jeans off. he would have taken his shirt off as well and just slept in his underwear but he was afraid of seeing angel's expression upon seeing the fading bruises on his abdomen. once the other man reappeared, garam pushed himself up onto his elbows, his eyes not leaving angel as he approached. garam sat up and turned so he could look down to angel, his brows pulling together as he let out a soft sigh. even though angel wanted to talk later on, when they were both sober, garam just couldn't stop himself from speaking anyways. he needed to apologize, he couldn't have angel going to bed thinking garam was mad or upset with him. the smaller man pouted a bit exaggeratedly, grumbling in distress as he shook his head. "i'm sorry i yelled at you... and for the things i said. i'm not mad at you, i really don't blame you for anything. you've always had the best of intentions and-and you always look out for me, you take care of me, and i know it's not just because you're into me but because you are a good person and you care about my wellbeing. you saw what i chose to ignore, i probably would have died by his hands if you hadn't made the sacrifice you had." he looked so pathetic, like he was on the verge of crying while he apologized. if he was going to be completely honest, fighting, not being on good terms with angel was tearing him up inside. that's why he drank as much as he did, so he wouldn't have to feel how horrible he did for yelling and saying things he shouldn't have said. "when i'm ready for another relationship, i want it to be you. and when you're ready," his expression had shifted when he paused, showing more of a devious smile now as he moved his hand to angel's stomach, letting his fingers take small steps upward, "i'm going to let you do whatever you want to me." garam spoke slowly as if he were trying to ensure his words were clear, letting his expression now reflect his lack of sobriety; his smile stretching ear to ear, his eyes narrowing and his nose scrunching up as he giggled softly. his intention was to fluster angel just as much as seeing the man's bare and damp body flustered him. it seemed, though, that his effort had the exact opposite effect as he found himself getting flustered at the mere idea of hooking up with angel. his grin disappeared in an instant, the red of his already flushed cheeks deepening. garam let himself fall back down to the bed, though he was quick to pull the blanket up over his head to hide himself from the embarrassment he caused himself, groaning quietly. he wasn't sure if he would come to regret his words when he sobered up, all he knew was that he was too embarrassed to show his face to angel right in that moment.
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your-hockey-mom · 5 hours ago
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I'm sick and could really use a sweet quinn moment
help? 🤢😩
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1:33am.
Quinn lay in bed, in the awkward in between sleep and awake state where everything feels like a dream. He rolls over to find you, however the space where you should be is empty and cold. Not even the lingering hint of your body heat left is behind. How long have you been gone?
"Baby?" He calls out, groggy and with eyes still closed.
When he doesn't get an answer, he sits up in bed and checks his phone for the time. Maybe it was way later than he thought and you had just gotten an early morning for once. Out of character for you, especially when he wasn't on the road, but it was always a possibility. Though, when he reads it's half-past-one in the morning, Quinn knows something must be wrong.
"Babe?" He calls out again, once he's out in the hallway. Still nothing. He's drawn to the living room and the fact that the TV is on but the sofa is empty. "Baby, are you okay? Where are you?"
His heart is beginning to quicken in pace; he's now completely awake given the dread washing over him like ice water. When Quinn turns to look back towards the direction of the bedroom, he sees the sliver of light from the cracked bathroom door. As he approaches, he sees something on the floor, jammed between the door and its facing. It's a blanket. ("Odd," he thinks.)
"Sweetheart? Are you alright?" Quinn gives a couple light knocks to the door yet there's still no response. "Hello?"
He pushes the door open to find you curled up on the bathroom floor. You were shivering as you laid on the cold tile; the blanket too far from reach to give you comfort. An hour ago, you felt nauseous and had left the comfort of Quinn's bedroom. Back and forth from the bathroom to the sofa you had paced, just not sure if and when you'd actually be sick, but you didn't want to risk it. The last trip down the hallway you had dragged a blanket with you around your shoulders. That's when the worse feeling of losing all your groceries had punched you in the gut. You didn't walk this time, there was a silent urgency to hurry. The blanket had been discarded as the door closed behind you.
"Oh, baby! What's wrong?" Quinn says quietly as he kneels beside you. His hand brushes hair from your face as he frowns. He never likes to see you sick, but there's something different about seeing you like this. "Let's get you up off the floor, okay?"
You clench your eyes closed, embarrassed that he's found you this way but you have no strength to fight him. He pulls you to a seated position before picking you up in his arms. "Want to go back to bed?"
"No," you mumble, grabbing a fistful of his shirt.
"Okay, okay. That's fine."
Quinn carries you back to the living room, knowing you probably didn't want to go back to the bed for fear that you'd wake him up if you had another episode. You're still trembling in his arms when he sits down on the sofa, still holding you tightly.
"Want me to stay with you?"
"No."
"No?" He asks, confused. "You don't want me to stay?"
"You need to go to bed. You have a game tonight. I'm fine." Your voice was small; like every word took so much strength to say.
"I've a long time till I have to worry about that. Right now, I want to know that you're alright."
You had nothing to say. You didn't want him to see you like this but it was too late.
"C'mon, I'll lay down with you right here. "
"Quinny..."
"Shh, I want to."
The white linen sectional really was comfortable and perfect for laying in your boyfriend's arms, sick or not. Quinn propped himself up in the L-bend, the cushions compressing into his weight. You had mustered the last of your strength to shift your weight to lay between his legs, your head on his chest. He was comforting and warm though the cold chills still refused to leave you.
"Let's cover you up, princess," Quinn cooed, pulling a throw over your exposed skin. His fingers dragged through your hair in a soothing rhythm hoping something he was doing would help. "Is there anything I can do for you?"
"No." You pull the blanket up over your face. "But thank you." Your words muffled beneath the fabric.
Even though you felt awful, you still managed to bring a smile to his face, doing unintentionally cute things without trying. "You're welcome, baby. Get some rest okay? If you need anything, just tell me, and I'll do what I can."
"Thank you."
"You're welcome."
He'd hold you the whole night; his fingers still tangled in your hair come morning. His heartbeat had lulled you to sleep; his body heat soothed any discomfort your body had held on to. You wouldn't have any more nauseous episodes, which you were most thankful for. Even Quinn managed restful sleep, his gentle snoring barely heard over the TV.
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bunny-jpeg · 2 days ago
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nurse lance
lance stroll
tags: smut & fluff, sick/sweet fic, gentle sex, established relationship, sick!reader, cowgirl position
a/n: i went to visit hare this weekend and came back with a fever & cold. and right before the holidays too!!!
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lance was a sucker for when you were sick. he wasn't unfamiliar with a cold and knew his way around a can of chicken noodle soup. he seemed to up the affection when he knew you were under the weather.
you had a habit of playing it off when you felt under the weather, you believed that your partner had more than enough things to worry about. he didn't need you having the sniffles on top of it. but by god does he always find out quickly.
"well, there's three things you always do when you're sick." he said as he pulled up the covers to your chin, he pushed the blankets under your sides effectively putting you into a black burrito, "one, you get very quiet because your head hurts. two, you limp a little because your joints hurt. and three, your eyes looks heavy and tired because your entire being is fighting off infection." he took you by the cheeks and kissed you on the forehead.
"i'm fine, lance. it's just the weather changing." you could barely keep your eyes open as you laid under the covers he tucked you into. you opened your eyes a little more to see his hands on your cheeks once more.
"right, right... and you'll be as good as new tomorrow, eh? you need rest." he said, "and i don't want to see you up until i get you some tea." he pulled away and wagged a finger at you.
you felt the heat in your face from the sickness and you nodded, "of course, honey.." you felt the heaviness in your eyes once more and by the time lance was out of the bedroom you had gotten more comfortable in bed and eventually fell asleep. you hated when he was right, even though you loved him deeply. lance kept close to you, he even brought his laptop to the bedroom to check emails and keep himself busy while you rested.
it was only right of him, you cheered him on. not only him but the whole team! you gave him all your love, so if you were feeling under the weather then he'd simply take care of his love. his everything.
-
however, when you started to feel better. you returned the favour for your lover. nurse lance deserved a raise after everything he had done for you. once the coughing settled and the aches were gone. when you felt a bit more alive and after dinner, you took lance by the hand. left the dishes in the sink before you brought him up to the bedroom you shared.
"we don't have-"
"i'm alright." you said, "much better now, you've been looking after me for days now." you unzipped your hooded sweatshirt and took it off you. you liked how lance looked at you when he was getting turned on by you.
"you promise?" he asked, "you owe me nothing."
you reached out for him and took his shirt by the shoulders, "i mean, i benefit from it too. haven't been able to get pleasure while i was sick. a change of pace from the aches and pains." and giggled when lance pulled the sweatpants off you.
your clothes were soon all over the floor by the bed as the two of you got into bed together. he ran his hands across your sides as you straddled his waist. you placed your hands on his shoulders and admired him. those dark eyes that pulled you in, how he smiled at you. the way the tips of his ears got hot when he was intimate with you. the rush of want made im perfectly pink.
"last chance." he said, he wanted total confidence that you were doing this of your own free will. no questions asked.
you took him by the face and gazed into his eyes, "i want you lance, i want you so fucking badly. is that what you want to hear?" then pressed a kiss against his soft lips. he shuddered and let out a small laugh after you broke the kiss. you looked down at him and laughed in return, "happy?"
"with you? always, babe." then winked at you before he helped you get seated on his cock. the stretch was a bit much at first, but soon you were fully taking him.
your hands on his shoulders as you started to move against him. move at a steady, slow pace. nothing too brutal, only gentleness between you two. you admired him. you loved him. deeply.
you were feeling better, the cough was mostly gone and you didn't have the dull throb in your head. it felt nice to be intimate with him once more. you held onto him tightly as you moved your hips. the pleasure sank down to your core and left you needy for him. you were always needy for him. there was something about him that pulled you in.
he was unlike any other man you ever met. not because he was a racer, he was different from them too. the way he smiled at you, how he seemed to remember all the important dates. that he modified how he worked so he could keep a close eye on you.
"i love you." you said softly, "you are fuckin' amazing, lance." you cupped his face for a moment as you picked up the pace. but lance held onto your hips to slow you down.
you looked at him curiously and he said, "let's take our time. i know you're better, but i don't want you to push yourself so hard until you're totally fine again." then gave you a smile that melted your heart.
you said softly, "fuck, lance. you're so cheesy."
he replied, "only with you." then pulled one of your hands to his face where he could kiss right where your wrist ended and your hand began. he met your pace slowly and kissed across your wrist and hand with a sort of devotion that made your stomach flutter.
the two of you continued to make love, the feeling was electric as the two of you moved against one another. the pace remained gentle, his love for you flowed through your body as you moved against him slowly. you loved the feeling, it left you feeling hot all over as pleasure bloomed in your core. there was something about him that just left you needy.
you could remember almost every time he used those skilled fingers and tongue to use, the videos of himself masturbating he would send. even the sweet text messages, you were wrapped up in his world and you loved it.
"fuck, lance." you said.
"you feel amazing, i'm glad you're feeling better." he said, "i want you not sick, not if i can prevent it. even though you do look rather cute with a runny nose." then gave your hand another kiss before he placed his hands back on your hips. he helped maintain the pace as he gazed up at you. fuck, you were beautiful.
"no need to lay it on so thick, lance." you laughed between heavy, lustful pants, "i know you're obsessed with me."
"how could i not be? not when you're so funny, and cute, and sweet. of course i'll love and take care of you. that's what a good boyfriend does." he remarked as he felt the flutter of lust through him as he moved against you.
you two continued to move, love was said in words and felt in the want between you two. it was hot, erotic in a way that made your toes curl as you continued to ride him. pleasure thumped in your chest as you rode him.
"you're such a sweet talker." you said as you went in for another heated kiss. the pleasure near hit its peak as you rode him. the heat curled in your core as you held onto him a little tighter, "fuck, i need to cum."
he said out of breath, "then cum for me." and groaned when you clenched around him as you climaxed. the pleasure swarmed your brain as you felt your entire body grow tense for a moment. he groaned, "fuck." it felt good, really good.
it was only hotter when you continued to move against him, eager for his own climax. he groaned louder and felt his orgasm wash over him. he cursed under his breath and you continued to ride him through his climax. your legs felt like jelly, but you loved the feeling.
"lance."
"i got you." he said as the two of you slowed down to a stop. you coughed a little from the physical activity. you still weren't a hundred percent. the two of you laid out next to each other on the bed, and lance got the blankets over both of you. he held you face and kissed you some more. you coughed a little bit and he kissed your nose, "alright, let's get comfy. you're obviously still sick."
and you were inclined to agree
-
a few days later, lance woke up to a sore throat and a little too much crust in his eyes, when he opened his eyes slowly the light that streamed through the window felt oppressive.
he rolled over and up against your shoulder. his hands felt cold as he cuddled with you. the iciness of his palms woke you up and you yawned loudly and looked at him.
he looked up at you, his normally big brown eyes eyes partially closed and full of sleep. then he started to cough and you pressed your lips against his forehead. he groaned a little.
you pulled away and looked at him, "i guess it's time for me to take care of you." and then your eyes went wide when he wrapped himself up against you.
"will you, please?" he asked quietly.
you chuckled and snuggled up next to him, "of course." if you two were going to share the same cold over the course of the off season then so be it. because he'll always take care of you, and you'll take care of him <3
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Text
Not a Creature Was Stirring
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Declan O’Hara x Reader
Words: 2677
Summary: Christmas at the Priory gets more complicated with Maud can’t make it back from London. As Declan’s girlfriend, you try to step in to still make it a perfect holiday for him and his kids. Needless to say, things don’t exactly go according to plan. 
Notes: With my love for Aidan Turner, you guys had to know Declan would be joining my list of stories eventually! I love him so much and I’m happy to have him as the subject of my Christmas imagine this year. I hope you all have a happy holidays, whatever you celebrate and a wonderful new year! (and if you recognized the Poldark quote I totally stole, no you didn't)
-
T’was two weeks before Christmas and all through the Priory, everyone buzzed with holiday spirit. Patrick and Caitlin were back from school, Taggie was busy making hors d’oeuvres for all of the holiday parties she’d been hired to cater and you were enjoying a book by the fireplace. The only one who seemed unable to enjoy the season was Declan. He stomped about, going through receipts and orders and cards. His brows furrowed and his mustache curved with the harshness of his frown. 
“I can’t make sense of any of this,” he huffed. “Everything from the last ridiculous party she planned and I still don’t know what to do.”
You set your book aside. Even though Declan and Maud were no longer together, you knew her approval still meant a lot to him. That, and now that he was the face of Corinium, he was expected to be a bit of a socialite as well. 
“Why doesn’t she plan it herself?” You asked. 
He hated getting into the details of these things. As long as there were good drinks and decent music, he seemed happy. 
He ran a hand through his dark curls and collapsed onto the sofa beside you. 
“Because she won’t get here until Christmas Eve.” Declan blew out a long, tired breath. “And the kids have been hounding me about having something here for weeks. I think they’re too cooped up. Tired of the house. Tired of me.”
Caitlin had complained more than once about her ongoing boredom. 
You brought your legs up, draping them over his lap as you turned to face him. His hand found your calf, rubbing circles to soothe both you and himself. 
“Why don’t you let me do it?”
“Do what?”
You flicked his arm. “The planning, silly.” 
“You want to plan Maud’s party?” He scoffed. 
“Sure,” you shrugged. “How hard can it be?”
Declan grinned, snickering.
“What?” You asked. 
He just shook his head and kissed your cheek, pulling you closer as he stared into the fire. 
-
He’d tried to warn you. From the moment you volunteered to take over, Declan had told you it was not a task for the faint of heart. Especially since you were convinced the party had to be as extravagant and special as Maud’s would be. He wanted to tell you there was nothing to prove. That you didn’t need to dazzle everybody and put on some grand show. But you seemed excited to help, so he didn’t say anything. Besides, it was nice to focus on his work rather than invitations to people he’d rather not have to see more than he already did. 
Taggie knocked on the door of his office, apron covered with flour. “Have you seen Y/N?”
Declan glanced up from his papers. Bills he couldn’t pay and assignments he didn’t want. 
“She isn’t here?”
Taggie shook her head. “I was going to ask what she wanted me to make for the party.”
They looked at each other for a while until Declan shrugged.
“I have no idea,” he said. “She hasn’t told me anything.” 
“You mean you aren’t helping?” 
Declan scoffed. “I haven’t exactly had time, Taggie.” He put the papers aside. “And she won’t let me.”
“She won’t let you?”
“No. She won’t let me.”
She sighed. “Reminds me of me.” 
Taggie muttered, while it was nice not to be in charge for one, she felt a twinge of guilt thinking of you trying to throw everything together on your own. 
“If you find her, tell her I want to talk to her,” Declan said. 
Taggie snorted. “Right. Talk.”
“Your sister is rubbing off on you,” Declan groaned. "Run off."
Taggie left snickering. 
Declan tried to focus back on his work, but couldn’t. Maybe Taggie was right. Was he expecting too much of you? He wasn’t exactly known for his observation skills when the subject wasn’t an official or celebrity he wanted to tear apart. He didn’t want a whole fuss of a party anyway and now he was letting you bend over backwards to make it happen. He sighed, running a hand down his face. It was too late, of course. Declan knew if he said anything, you would assume you’d done something wrong. 
Your current situation did little to help. Having spent the last two hours haggling over second-hand decorations, you still didn’t have enough for both the entry hall and the dining room, not to mention other areas of the house. Plus, you’d need to repaint most of the wooden tree decorations, patch up the banners, and glue the ceramic snowman back together. The rest was a haphazard collection of string lights, ornaments, and brass angels you bartered for a steal. For you, it was enough. But for the O’Hara’s? For Declan? 
It was hard not to feel cast into a shadow when his ex was who she was. 
“Why couldn’t Maud be a minimalist?” You groaned. Maybe the girls could help you dig up some more decor from storage. Surely they had a snow or two tucked away somewhere. 
Stars… 
Now that gave you an idea. 
-
12 hours. That’s all the time you had left to prep the best Christmas party Declan’s family could have.
No pressure, right?
With the decorations set- you nearly broke your neck putting them up- now all you needed to do was make enough food for all the people you invited. Taggie had offered to help, but you insisted she spend Christmas Eve about town with her siblings. Of course, this left you standing in front of a dozen empty pans and no idea how to fill them. 
“How does she do this?” You muttered to yourself, looking over the recipe for the thousandth time. Mince pies, cranberry tarts, figgy pudding… it all could have been delivered, but making it yourself was cheaper. You knew money was tight, not that Declan would ever admit it. So it would be the best- and most affordable- Christmas party. 
Declan walked into the kitchen just as you were putting the first round of mini pies in the oven. 
“Maud called,” he sighed. He smoothed his wild curls only for them to pop out again. “She can’t make it.”
You almost dropped the pudding. “What?” 
“She can’t come home for Christmas.” He tried to keep the frustration out of his voice, but you heard it all the same. “Apparently there’s a big party with lots of directors who might cast her, so she’s staying in London.”
“Oh.” You turned away so he wouldn’t see your face fall. It was silly, really, to be upset. But you hadn’t realized how much you wanted to impress her until now. 
“I’m sorry, love.” Declan came up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. “I know how much work you’ve put into all this.”
Secretly, a small part of him was relieved, though it was a shame the kids wouldn’t see their mother on Christmas. 
Your back stiffened against his chest. 
“This is all the more reason to have this magnificent party,” you said, shrugging him away so you could get back to work. “It’ll be good for Patrick and the girls.”
Declan stood to the side, watching fierce determination overtake your features. 
He exhaled, surrendering. “Alright, love.”
-
The kitchen smelled like smoke and blackened fruit. Coughing, you pulled the tray of unsalvageable tarts from the oven and set them aside. You’d been so busy finishing up the decorations that you’d forgotten about them entirely. You opened the window despite the chill to let out some of the black clouds and godawful odor. 
Just half an hour before guests would start arriving and you’d just ruined half of the desserts. Pouring yourself a glass of whatever was closest, you just hoped they’d be content with free liquor after dinner. Maybe they’d get too drunk to care. 
“Are you setting fire to the entire neighborhood, because if so, at least spare my dogs.” A familiar snark sounded from behind you.
“Rupert? What are you doing here this early?” You gasped, wiping your hands on your apron. “Declan hasn’t had enough whiskey to tolerate you yet.”
“Then you should have invited more people,” he teased. Rupert entered the kitchen, leaning on the counter. “Why don’t you have Taggie help you? She’s perfect at this.” The admiration in his voice was hard to miss, but you ignored it.
“Because she deserves to spend Christmas with her family, not stuck in here with me.”
He raised a finger to point out you counted as family, but you interrupted. 
“And what do you mean, invite more people?” You put your hands on your hips. “I invited half of the Cotswolds.” 
Rupert winced. “Yes, well, that explains this then.” He pulled something from his jacket pocket. A stack of filthy, water-stained envelopes. “I didn’t find them til this morning. Postman must have dropped them in the garden when he got chased off by the dogs.” He handed the ruined invitations over. 
You stared at them, a lump forming in your throat.
“You mean… no one is coming?”
“I’m afraid not, darling.” He plucked a not-charred tart from the tray and popped it in his mouth. “But isn’t this better. A more intimate gathering with your mustachioed man?”
You shook your head, running your hand through your hair, breathing starting to pick up.
“Maud is staying in London,” you blurted. “So the family is without their mother for Christmas and I thought I could-”
“Replace her by throwing some ridiculous party?” He chuckled. His face fell, however, when he saw your lip quiver. “Darling, you know no one expects you to be Maud, don’t you?”
You looked away. 
“Nobody wants that.” He stepped forward. “Y/N, I’m sure they don’t. I’m a little relieved she’s not here, to be honest. She was always a bit much.” 
Shaking fingers struggled to untie your apron. You tossed it aside. 
“I have to go.” You hurried for the door, grabbing a bottle of wine from the counter. 
“Y/N-” He started. 
The door slammed shut behind you. 
Rupert watched you go, sighed, and stole another tart. 
-
As the O’Haras piled into the main hall, Caitlin pinched Taggie’s arm, spotting the Minister of Sport coming out of the kitchen. 
“I didn’t know he was coming,” she whispered excitedly, earning a stern glance from their father. 
Taggie gulped. “Neither did I.”
Both watched their father put on a tight smile and approach the other man. 
“Rupert.”
“Declan.” Rupert’s smile was genuine, if not a bit arrogant. “I’m afraid I’ve been the bearer of bad news to your lovely Y/N,” he said. “All her invitations were lost to my flower bushes, left undelivered.”
“So there’s no one coming?” Patrick frowned. He’d hoped to meet some of his father’s good-looking TV hostess coworkers. 
“First mummy, now the whole town. Whatever will we do?” Caitlin said, eying Taggie and scooching her forward. When that didn’t work, she poked her brother. “Patrick scared them off with his terrible poetry.”
Patrick rustled her hair, making her squeak in protest. 
Declan ignored them. He ran a hand down his face and looked around at all you’d set up. You hadn’t even gotten to turn the lights on. 
“She seemed rather upset,” Rupert said, noticing Declan’s concern. “Ran off into the night. Very dramatic.” He leaned forward. “Perhaps you should go find her, hm?” He gave him a knowing look. 
Declan’s heart sank. He knew this wasn’t about the party. Not really. He just wished he’d realized it sooner. And before Rupert Campell-Black.
Starting for the door, he stopped, grabbing Rupert’s arm. 
“Don’t-” He narrowed his eyes, “-touch anything.”
He hurried off.
Rupert turned to the remaining O’Haras. 
“So,” he clapped his hands together. “Who knows where Declan keeps his best scotch?” 
-
He found you sitting on a snowy stump at the edge of the property. Declan watched the deep, shimmering green fabric of your dress sparkle in the moonlight, shifting as you lifted the bottle to your lips. You didn’t seem to see him approaching, eyes trained at the stars. 
“You look-” He sat beside you and kissed your cheek, “beautiful.”
“I don’t feel beautiful,” you muttered, taking another swig. The wine stained your lips a reddish purple but you didn’t care. Nobody would see it anyway. “I failed, Declan.”
“You didn’t fail.”
You scoffed. “The dessert is burnt, the decorations are literally hanging by a thread, and- oh yeah- none of it matters because no one is coming.” You raised your arm for another drink, but Declan grabbed the bottle, bringing it to his lips instead. 
Despite your efforts, your lip trembled. 
“I just wanted your family to have the perfect Christmas,” you said. 
“Is that what you think I care about?” He asked. “The extravagant party? The guests lined up down the pather?” Declan took your hands in his, trying to warm them from the chill. “Y/N, you’ve gotten me to look forward to a holiday for the first time in ages.” He brought your hands up for a lingering kiss. “Just by being you.” 
Your shaking stopped, tears chased away by his soft smile. You snatched the bottle back.
“Flattering will hardly make me feel better, Mr. O’Hara,” you teased. 
He raised a brown and leaned forward. 
“Does this?” He kissed your lips. “Or this?” Your jaw. “Or maybe…” The spot behind your ear. 
“Declan,” you breathed. 
He kept his lips by your ear, whispering. “You don’t have to be any more than you are, to be enough for me.”
Now, your tears returned for a different reason. Throwing your arms around him, you crashed your lips into his, forgetting what you’d been so upset about. Your hands found his hair, tangling those perfect black curls around your fingers. He reached one hand around you to hold you closer while the other rested on your thigh, creeping ever upwards. 
“If nobody is coming, can we start to eat?” Patrick called out over the lawn, making you jolt apart. 
You bit back a laugh, Declan’s face turning pink. “Go ahead!”
“Little bastard couldn’t wait ten more minutes?” Your frustrated boyfriend whined. 
“Ten minutes?” You stood, holding out your hand to help him. 
Declan pinched your upper thigh and scooped you up, both actions eliciting a squeal from your lips as he carried you back. 
-
“Ready?”
“Yes!” They all cheered, impatient.
You giggled, holding the switch captive in your hand. “You don’t look ready.”
“Get on with it, Y/N,” Caitlin whined, “turn them on!”
A chorus of pleas joined her. Declan just laughed, giving you a wide grin.
“You heard them,” he said.
“Alright, alright.”
You flipped the switch. All at once, the main hall lit up, and not just around the tree. Lights strung up above their heads created a canopy of color. Rupert turned on the speakers, filling the space with music. Exclamations of awe and excitement sounded all around you.
“Come on,” Caitlin said, dragging her siblings out to dance with her. Taggie glanced at Rupert, blush flooding her cheeks. He simply motioned for her to go on and dance.
Declan grabbed your hand.
“It’s perfect.” He kissed you deeply, making your knees weak as though he held you up in his embrace.
Caitlin made a teasing sound of disgust, but Taggie couldn’t help but smile. She didn’t think she’d ever seen her father so happy.
Rupert leaned over to you as he strutted to join the others. 
“Told you so,” he whispered. You reached to smack him, but he shimmied out of the way.
“Told you what?” Declan asked. 
You curled a black strand around your finger. 
“That I didn’t have to prove something to be loved by you.”
He pressed a kiss to your palm.
“For once, Rupert and I agree.” He lead you out to dance, swaying slowly despite the cheesy song. 
“Merry Christmas, Declan.” You kissed him again, nuzzling closer. 
“Merry Christmas, my love.”
And so you all spent Christmas dancing to overplayed tunes under flashy, colorful lights. 
And it was perfect.
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rin-solo · 2 days ago
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You are absolutely correct to point this out. Tagging @glisten-inthedark because this feels like something you'll enjoy. The whole "7 years aren't as long for a god as for a human" thing aside, this just beautifully shows how differently they view each other.
To Odysseus, Poseidon was never more than just another obstacle to getting home. A much more competent, dangerous obstacle than any other, but still just an obstacle that he had no particular or special feelings toward beyond, "I have to avoid this guy." Then he spends 7 years at Calypso's and naturally forgets all about Poseidon because he just doesn't assume that Poseidon would care about him that much either.
... But Poseidon does. And that's the beautiful irony of it all ... To Poseidon, Odysseus is so much more than just a mortal who blinded his son that one time; if the Vengeance saga proves anything, it's this. Think about it—he doesn't mention Polyphemus at all anymore in this saga. Instead, he admits straight out that he's avenging "his reputation"—a fancy way of saying, "I'm hunting you for myself and my own reasons now."
And he does. He waited for him—not because of his son but because of himself. Because he does feel something for Odysseus as a person, be it hatred, indignation, or something entirely else. Whatever it is, it's personal for him, and for him alone.
He cares so much about being the one to kill him that he waits for a decade (even if that's only akin to, like, 10 weeks or something for a god, that's still 10 weeks of camping in front of someone's house to get their attention!) I don't think anyone would shame or fault him for letting Odysseus live anymore either, like I've seen some people say, especially since it was Zeus' decree that Odysseus be released.
No, Poseidon waited for Odysseus because Poseidon wanted to wait for him. Poseidon remembered Odysseus because he was "something" to him, as opposed to Odysseus, who just straight up forgot or assumed he got bored and/or had better things to do with his immortal life (a very fair assumption, honestly.) The fact that Poseidon didn't get bored and didn't have better things to do with his life tells us so much about his character that I could write a whole essay on it ... I've covered parts of it in my Get In The Water analysis and also this lil thing, but I might write a full essay on this someday.
And that's the beautiful, poetic, almost ... tragedy of it all since it's so clearly one-sided: Odysseus feels nothing—no hatred, no attachment, not even enough to consider he might still be after him—whereas Poseidon feels ... everything? A lot, at least.
It's literally a case of "the opposite of love isn't hate (or the other way around, either work); it's indifference." Odysseus is indifferent. But what you, dear god of tides, have is a very serious case of obsession. You might want to—oh, no, he can't hear me; he's passed out on some rock shore, bleeding profusely. We can only hope that being defeated, humiliated, and confronted with his vulnerability in this manner didn't only deepen his obsession. Why do I have a bad, bad feeling about this though ...
My favorite thing in Epic that we don't talk enough about is that during the Circe and Thunder sagas, Odysseus was pretty much aware that Poseidon was after him. But in Vengeance saga, considering his reaction at Poseidon's appearance in "Get in the Water", he kinda thought that Poseidon must've forgotten and let go until that time. BUT HE DIDN'T. THE MAN WAS OBSESSED WITH ODYSSEUS FOR SEVEN YEARS
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doctor-dusk · 13 hours ago
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𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐢 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐜𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 | 𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐱 𝐭.
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all you want for christmas is him.
warnings: soft dom!alex, smut, handjob, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, most fluff, lots of kisses and cuddles because it’s humbug alex :3
words: 4.7k
i've had this ready since the beginning of the month and i posted it today because it makes more sense with the story. i've never written anything with humbug al but i admit that this brought a smile to my face. hope you enjoy it :3
it was snowing heavily when you left home, but not as much when you got back. you find it strangely amazing how everything could change drastically in a matter of minutes. the road wasn't so slippery when you parked the car, and now, you slipped and almost fell on your butt twice just to put the christmas presents in the trunk of the car.
ah, yes. it was christmas. one of the best times of the year, and without a doubt, it was your favorite. where you could get together with family and friends, exchange gifts and eat a lot without feeling remorseful about gaining a few extra pounds on the scale later. it was still the 23rd of december, but you had already been in the christmas spirit since november.
you took advantage of your free day to buy presents for the children. you made a mental note of what each of them wanted as a gift, casually asking what they would like for christmas that year. it was as easy as taking candy from a baby's mouth.
alex didn't go with you. he was too invested in the cookies to be able to accompany you. but you didn't complain, you loved it when he got excited about it, even though in the end he made a mess in the kitchen, with eggshells on the counter and flour on the floor. but the mess was the least of your worries.
you simply loved seeing how excited and happy he was, helping you decorate the house with wreaths on the doors and small ornaments on the windows, and of course, decorating the christmas tree. it was all full of laughter and jokes, as if at that moment you were in a cliché christmas movie.
you parked the car in the garage, getting out quickly to get the presents out of the car without taking too long, it was really freezing as night fell. you put the handles of the bags over your arms, making sure you didn't forget anything before locking the car and entering the house through the back door, avoiding getting the entire living room dirty with your snow-covered boots as much as possible.
the back door led directly to the laundry room, so you took the opportunity to take off your boots and put on your slippers, leaving your socks on your feet. alex thought it was funny — not to say strange — that you walked around the house in slippers and socks, but when he least expected it, he were already walking around the house like that too.
he usually says that you are a bad influence on him. but you are proud of it. it's not like he doesn't like it after all. he liked having a little bit of you in his habits.
before you crossed the small hallway that connected the laundry room and the kitchen, you could already smell cookies in the air. the soft vanilla aroma filled your nostrils as you approached the counter. alex wasn't there, all you saw besides an impeccably clean kitchen was the porcelain container with the warm cookies and a small note stuck under the small bowl.
you left the presents in a safe place on the floor, making a little mental note to pick them up later and beg alex to help you wrap them all — begging because alex liked to hear you say that he knew how to make much prettier gift bows than yours.
one free hand took the small note between your fingers, while the other rushed to grab one of the cookies from the pile, feeling the soft warmth on your fingertips. you took a bite, the chocolate chips practically melting in your mouth in an explosion of flavors, making you let out a satisfied hum.
your eyes drifted to the small note, recognizing alex’s elaborate handwriting as if he was always in a hurry to write, as if the words would disappear from his mind at any moment and he needed, no, needed to write it down somewhere before he forgot. it no longer surprised you to see loose letters and verses written in the most unusual places, like on the calendar stuck to the wall, or on his empty cigarette pack.
back to the main point, you read the small sentences written with the graphite of a worn pencil:
“meet me at the studio.
ps: sorry about the glass :(”
you frowned, soon understanding the meaning of the observation when you saw a small cardboard box in the corner with “glass” written on the top. he probably accidentally broke a glass while making the cookies, but that was no reason to make you angry, so you ignored it as you made your way to the studio at the end of the hallway that started in the living room.
the door was ajar, so you just gave it a little push. the studio always smelled of pine. you didn’t know exactly if it was because of the instruments, most of them structured with the most varied types of noble wood. but you loved that smell, especially when it was mixed with the smell of alex’s perfume. the place was annoyingly organized, he made sure not to leave anything out of place, whether he was alone or not. everything was impeccably in its place, the low lights brought a subtle comfort along with the colorful twinkling lights around the christmas tree set up there.
but what was truly a feast for your eyes was seeing your boyfriend lying there partially next to the christmas tree. the incandescent lights of the studio made his skin look warm, glowing. like a candle slowly burning, waiting for you. you looked up at him, an amused smile playing on your lips as he smiled back at you.
‘’what’s this?” you gestured to him lying next to the christmas tree, his wavy hair decorated with crimson red bows in the strands.
“don’t you like it, love?” he pouted. oh, you loved and hated that pout of his. you could break it if you could and then you would shower him with kisses until his lips were swollen.
“that’s not it. what are you doing?” you laughed, curious to know what he was planning. he had a gift box on his lap and a suggestive smile on his lips.
“i was preparing your gift. you got ‘ere just in time.” alex replied, patting the carpeted floor next to him so you could join him.
‘’i thought we were only going to exchange gifts at your parents' house in two days.’’ you answered in a slight tone of inquiry as you sat down next to him, your thighs touching and soon your shoulders too when he leaned in to kiss you on the temple.
he let out a laugh through his nose.
‘’believe me, this is not the kind of gift you want to open in front of my parents.’’ he joked, making you raise your eyebrows, curious about what was inside the box he was holding in his lap.
‘’is it a new lingerie?’’ you asked as you tried to guess what was inside. he shook his head in denial.
‘’why don't you open it and see?’’ he suggested, nudging you with his elbow so you could open the box. you knew you could be expecting anything from him now since he wasn't going to tell you what was in there. alex was the kind of guy who never got tired of surprising you.
carefully, you undid the red bow that was on the green box, lifting the lid cautiously, taking a quick peek. your eyes widened, several feelings going through your mind in a split second. in the end, you burst out laughing.
“alex!” you laughed, patting his shoulder, closing the box and opening it again to take another peek to make sure you were really seeing it.
“what? are you going to tell me you didn’t like it?” he asked, his shoulder touching yours, nudging you lightly. you laughed, checking it a second and third time, your face blushing. “stop it, you’re acting like you’ve never seen this in your life.”
“no, this is…” you laughed again, unable to react beyond laughter. of course, you weren’t expecting to see that inside the box. “did you even put a little bow on it?”
“of course, it’s a gift. i thought it would look more presentable for you.’’ he said and you rubbed your eyes, still laughing a little more.
“you’re terrible.” you shook your head, but you loved it, looking back with a sweet smile. ‘’but i liked the gift. i always wanted to have your cock with a little bow around it as a christmas gift.’’
“i would get naked for you, but it’s too cold.” he murmured and you laughed, kissing the tip of his cold nose.
“no need. thank you for the gift.” you said, kissing the tip of his nose again, trailing the kisses to his flushed cheeks, making a short path to the corner of his mouth, feeling the skin on his cheek flex because of his smile. ‘’can i enjoy it?’’
“you must.” he laughed, holding your hand, guiding it inside the box so you could finally touch him. he would be lying through his teeth if he said he wasn’t dying to feel your hand. you felt how warm and soft it was. in an impulse that you swore you couldn't control, you squeezed it gently, you played with the idea that it was like a squishy stress ball when it wasn't hard. "weirdo." he laughed, feeling that your touches were already starting to make him excited, the blood pumping quickly to the muscle, stiffening quickly. 
"don't judge me. you know how i like it when it's all soft like this.’’ you laughed in a murmur, your hand finally removing the box from the middle so that your path was clear for you to continue touching him, feeling his arm go around your waist so you could lie down next to him. 
he kissed your forehead, you could feel his breathing getting shaky as your fingers worked on him, feeling that softness being replaced by a warm and firm hardness, and you thought it would be a good idea to undo the tie around it, as cute as you thought it was. you didn't want it to end up hurting him because it was too tight. his face was close, too close. you could feel his eyelashes tickling your cheek as he tried to kiss you without getting lost in the feel of your fist closed around him, sliding up and down tortuously, the moans almost sounding like shy whimpers.
“god, i love when you touch me.” he murmured between kisses, feeling you tease him in response, circling the tip of your thumb around the tip, spreading the clear precum around it.
“does it feel good?” you asked, your eyes practically sparkling as you looked at him. he had no idea how beautiful he looked like this, with his eyes closed, his lips parted and his curly hair falling over his cheekbones like a small waterfall. you were completely fascinated by him.
“sooo good…” he dragged the word with a subtle movement of his hips, searching for your hand, searching for more, always more. he buried his face in your neck, making you roll over to feel the carpeted floor beneath your back. ‘’i love you so much…’’ he murmured, his hips moving against your hand in a delicious back and forth manner, your fist clenching a little tighter, increasing the pressure of your grip around him a little.
before you knew it, you were practically stuck together, one hand holding the back of your neck while the other undid the button of your jeans while he forced his knees to support the weight of his body between your legs. by this time he had already gotten rid of his pants, leaving them lying next to the christmas tree. you closed your eyes at the feeling of his fingers teasing the elastic of your panties under your pants, taking the opportunity to kiss his neck, delirious even more with the gasps he let out. alex had a sensitive neck, so you took advantage of every opportunity to kiss him and feel his skin shivering against your lips.
he mumbled something that you didn't understand at first because you were so lost in the sensations, but as soon as he stopped moving his hips and brought the hand that was on the back of your neck to your cheek, you came back to yourself.
‘’what did you say?’’
he smiled, kissing your forehead.
‘’i asked you to lift your hips, love. can't touch you with you wearing those pants.’’ he said, gentle and patient, even though he was seething inside. you raised your eyebrows, feeling foolish for mere seconds before lifting your hips, letting him do the rest. he paused for a moment, looking at your panties. ‘’those panties are new, aren't they?’’
‘’for god's sake…’’ you laughed, covering your face with one hand. alex paid attention to everything, even the clothes you wore, and it was no different with your panties. he was just very observant, especially when it came to you.
‘’what? i just asked.’’ he laughed too, leaving his palm on the light fabric printed with small roses on white cloth, letting his thumb slide from top to bottom, meticulously over your sensitive spot, making you curl your toes a little. ‘’it's not like i didn't like it. i love roses.
‘’they’re new, yes.’’ you confirmed. ‘’does it make any difference now?’’
‘’not now.’’ he shrugged, hooking his fingers on the sides so he could pull the piece down your legs. ‘’in the end, all the panties you wear end up thrown in some corner of the room. this one here would be no different.’’ he said as he finished pulling the intimate piece over your feet, leaving it in an ignored place.
you felt a voracious shiver, not only because of the cold on your legs, but because you were so close and he was touching you so masterfully, letting his fingertips slide along the inside of your thigh, he could already feel the heat radiating off your skin as he trailed lower, touching every part of your skin that he could reach. 
before you knew it, he was already between your legs, hooking his hands under your thighs to spread your legs apart gently, nuzzling his nose along your inner thigh, inhaling your scent. it was good, almost intoxicating to him, but he couldn't live without it.
your hand automatically moved to the back of his head, the relatively long locks barely held between your fingers, so silky and soft.
he looked up at you, the desire in his eyes mirroring yours as he pressed a soft kiss right on your clit, making it throb in response. it was something similar to when you kissed the tip of his cock when you're about to give him a blowjob, like a silent and promising tease.
his tongue danced slowly and deliberately along your folds, licking all the way up, savoring your taste as soft whimpers escaped your lips, his hands now on your inner thighs, keeping them spread wide for him to feast on you.
‘’feels so good…’’ you managed to say between the whimpers and moans. his heart beat even faster, knowing he was pleasing you just right. not that he didn't know, but he liked it when you were vocal. he swirled his tongue around your clit in slow circles, occasionally dipping it lower to tease your entrance with the tip of his tongue. your hand on his hair tightened, letting him know he was on the right track.
‘’want more?’’ he asked with a muffled voice.
‘’only if you want to.’’ you answered, not wanting to force him into something, even though you knew alex could suffocate to death between your legs if you let him.
his answer was to bury his face between your legs, his tongue delving inside you, stopping only when he moved his lips so he could suck your clit hard. your breathy and desperate moans only turned him on, his fingers almost penetrating your flesh to keep your legs spread wide as he ate you out relentlessly.
‘’taste so good, baby.’’ he moaned against your flesh, his nose pressing on your clit as he devoured you ravenously, lapping at your core and drinking your essence greedily. ‘’so fucking good.’’ he hissed, feeling his own desire throbbing between his legs as he worked you higher and higher.
‘’fuck, alex, i'm…’’ you whispered, feeling your skin shivering. you usually never got goosebumps when he was eating you out, so when he felt the skin on your thigh crawling under his hands, he paused, looking up at you with his face glistening in saliva and your wetness.
‘’are you cold, love?’’ he asked when he felt the goosebumps on your thigh. you nodded. ‘’hold on.’’ he said, reaching behind him to grab a folded blanket you had left there the day before because you were listening to alex play the piano and almost always ended up dozing off to the melody.
he put the blanket over himself and turned his body to lie on top of you, warming you not only with the blanket, but with the heat of his body on yours.
‘’better?’’ he asked, making sure you were feeling warm enough. you smiled, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him, the kiss answering everything you both needed to know at the moment, the taste of you lingering on his tongue, now mixing on your mouths.
as the kiss dragged on, you felt his hand caress the skin of your belly under your sweater, going up to fondly grope one of your breasts, your legs locked around his waist bringing him impossibly closer, your intimacies touching, rubbing against each other in a frenzy of anticipation.
‘’alex…’’ you whimpered softly, nibbling on his earlobe, feeling him shiver slightly against your body.
‘’i know, love, i know.’’ he murmured against your neck, not needing to say anything else, just act. and so soon, you felt him fit perfectly between your legs, moving in and out slowly, and that alone made your body tingle and soften at the same time.
your skin burned like burning embers, every touch and every thrust seemed to take you to a private paradise where all that existed was the two of you getting lost in each other, drowning in that ocean of pleasure. the lights oscillating between yellow, orange and red on the christmas tree next to you seemed to make his face flush more when he lifted his face to look at you, you could easily get lost in that surrendered look, in that little face contorted with pleasure.
but you couldn't let yourself be fooled, not when he brought his hand around your neck, his thumb caressing and feeling your rapid pulse under the skin of your neck while his hips moved more fluidly and, consequently, faster. the sound of skin colliding with skin began to echo through the small studio, joining the sound of both of your moans.
you clung tighter to him, your hands invading his sweater to feel the boiling skin of his back against your palms. it was too hot now, so you pulled the blanket away, both of you wearing only your sweaters on top. soon, your hands returned to roaming his sides, holding his hips and encouraging him in his rhythmic and precise thrusts.
turner leaned in to kiss you again, your hands going straight to his hair, your fingers tangling in the strands and the little bows attached to it. you didn't know whether to moan or laugh at the fact that you were having sex while he had little red bows attached to his locks. alex was too unpredictable for his own good.
but you chose to moan, especially because it was impossible not to have that reaction when you felt him so good and so deep like that, the inside of your cunt seemed to be perfectly molded for his cock, squeezing and feeling him hitting that spot over and over again, which forced your body to contort and cling to his tighter. his name was like a melody in your mouth, echoing vividly with the sound of his thrusts, you even found it difficult to keep your eyes open to admire every little expression on his face.
‘’you look so beautiful like this, you know that?’’ he gasped, holding your face with his hand, his fingers gently squeezing your cheeks, his lips giving you several little kisses, one after the other. ‘’so beautiful and so mine…’’ he continued, punctuating his words with sharp and deep thrusts, knowing that you loved the compliments, loved how much he liked to compliment even your toenails, no matter how much you told him how ridiculous they were.
you brought your hand between your bodies, wanting more stimulation. your fingers circled lazily around your pleasure point, feeling him go back and forth inside you, listening to the muffled sounds from the back of his throat as he kissed and nibbled on your neck, his hands gripping your skin in any way he could, marking his territory.
you tried not to moan too much, but it was so hard, you had a lot to deal with at the moment, and you tried to kiss him or bite your lip so as not to let any loud sounds escape. but damn, this was driving alex crazy, completely out of his mind to the point where he couldn't control himself as he moved so fast, that knot in his stomach was starting to form inside him.
when you felt him slow down a little, your eyes searched his as you lifted your eyelids, a look of slight desperation taking over his facial features.
‘’what's wrong, love?’’ you asked, trying not to be so worried, your free hand reaching up to touch his face.
‘’it's just that i... fuck, i'm so close…’’ he murmured a little breathlessly, swallowing hard. ‘’i don't want to come right now...’’
‘’honey, it's okay…’’ you reassured him. of course, it was rare for him to cum before you, but it happens. he always made sure to hold back as long as possible so that you could have your pleasure, maybe even twice so that he could finally feel free to let the orgasm consume him too. you said it was selfish of him, but he never listened to you.
‘’no, not before you.’’ he shook his head, reluctantly holding himself back. but it was so hard when he felt your walls squeezing him, making him so sensitive and stimulated that it was already out of control.
‘’alex, look at me, love.’’ you said, holding his face with both hands. ‘’you know i don't care about that.just let go, i'm right behind you, i promise.’’ you said, distributing hot kisses all over his face, your hand returning to your clit, rolling your hips a little against his to stimulate him more.
it didn't take more than that. your soothing words, your kisses on his neck and the feeling of you squeezing around him like a warm hug were enough to make him spill inside you, holding your thighs tightly as he pulsed inside you vigorously, making you feel that familiar feeling of fulfillment.
you barely had time to open your eyes and catch your breath. you felt him slide out of you, his member being replaced by his ring and middle fingers, burying them inside you until reach his knuckles, the unannounced invasion made you close your legs in a reflex, soon relaxing them when he kissed your face.
‘’let me take care of you now, darling." he whispered to you, your foreheads pressed together as he pumped his fingers back and forth quickly, and you were already delirious. you loved it when he touched you. of course, being a natural guitarist, turner really knew how to move his fingers, especially inside you.
in no time, you were already a mess, his fingers continued tirelessly, alternating between going back and forth or curving upwards, massaging your g-spot with fervor. you didn't care that everything was getting too wet, too sticky with his fresh cum dripping from your hole that was now filled with his two fingers, you just knew how to enjoy the sensation and slowly come undone by spasms.
‘’alex, alex…’’ you moaned, both of you working together with your fingers, building your orgasm little by little as you grabbed the back of his neck to bring him into a wet kiss at the same time that you reached your climax, shaking and almost writhing like an acrobat on the floor, his fingers continued to stimulate you, but with less intensity now, trying not to overstimulate you.
‘’mhm, that’s it, baby.’’ he mumbled between sweet kisses on your swollen lips, satisfied that he could make you finish.
the panting breaths soon died down, your hearts returning to normal beats as he laid his head on your chest, his sticky fingers finally abandoning you, leaving you with a strange feeling of emptiness as it happened every time.
you murmured softly to him, your free hand undid one of the ties in his hair so that you could comb it back, unsticking the strands from his sweaty forehead.
“hm?” he asked, looking up so that his lazy eyes met yours.
“i'm cold again.” you pouted and he laughed through his nose, reaching for the blanket that was thrown on the floor again, covering your completely tired bodies again. ‘’i loved the gift, al.’’
‘’you're welcome.’’ he murmured with a low laugh, reaching for the skin of your collarbone to give it a kiss or two. you smiled, pulling him closer, his body was on top of yours, but he tried not to distribute his weight completely on you. he kissed your flushed face more times than he could count, his hand caressed the back of your neck, and you swore you could hear him purring like a kitten.
‘’it feels so good here…’’ you murmured, your voice was sleepy. alex chuckled softly, you always got sleepy after sex, so this was no surprise to him anymore.
‘’we can stay here a little longer.’’ he replied, hugging you and rolling your bodies so that you could be with your body on top of his.
he held your face, the little kisses didn't seem enough, so he kissed you more intensely, his tongue parting your lips so he could explore your mouth as if it were the first time. when you broke the kiss, he swallowed, licking his lips as if he was thoughtful and trying to come to a conclusion.
‘’what's wrong?’’ you asked curiously.
‘’kiss me again.’’ he asked. you found it unusual, but didn't say anything back, kissing him the same way, letting him taste your mouth more. when you broke the kiss again, he laughed. ‘’did you eat one of the cookies on the counter?’’
‘’of course i did.’’ you laughed along. ‘’did you only realize now?’’
‘’yeah. i was too busy fucking you to realize that.’’ he said and you rolled your eyes at how direct he was, but you didn't think it was bad. ‘’but i liked it. cookie kisses.’’
‘’did you like it?’’ you smiled, feeling him brush his nose against yours in an eskimo kiss.
“i loved it.” he replied, your foreheads and the tips of your noses touching as if they were made for that. “and you know what else i love?”
you smiled. you knew what he was going to answer, but you always liked hearing him say it.
“what?” you asked, your eyes shining at him as you waited for his answer.
“you.”
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a/n: idk if i'll post anything else in the next few days or before new years, so merry xmas in advance <3
taglist (let me know if you want to be included or excluded): @thenightslikeawhirlwind, @goblinontour, @yourstartreatment
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mg-dango · 3 days ago
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GUYS HELP ME WITH THIS THEORY
spoiler warnings for chapter 7:
One thing I noticed a lot are the symbolic details this issue in particular has.
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First, everyone probably knows this already, but usually the TF2 comics take as a reference classic comic covers, “Ring of fire” references Spiderman for example, “Old wounds” reference Watchmen, “The naked and the dead” references Crisis on infinite Earths, and this one, while I’m not 100% sure, I think it references Batman year one, where we all see the classic picture of Bruce Wayne contemplating his now dead parents and all that yadda yadda.
Before I proceed, pay attention to this
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Now read it again but check out the different scenarios of the covers
“MY GRANDFATHER, EBENEZER MANN. SHIPPING MAGNATE. YOUNGEST OF FIVE SONS. EVERY BROTHER IN THE GROUND BY THE TIME HE BOUGHT HIS FIRST FLEET.”
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“MY FATHER, EZEKIEL MANN. RAILROAD TYCOON. MIDDLE CHILD. A HOUSE FIRE CLAIMED HIS THREE SISTERS.”
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But especially the last one:
“ZEPHENIAH MANN. ME. MUNITIONS MAGNATE. ONLY SON, SADLY.”
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Now, This is my first hypothesis but I don’t believe that last one part, about him being an only son. I also think there are symbolisms and details on the last cover, we see drawings and sketches or prototypes or patents or whatever about guns and weapons all over the floor, and 3 hats which could mean there were 3 siblings but one (Zepheniah) killed the others, and I think the last one cover are the actual admin’s parents and the other 3 are her ancestors… Probably (I don’t know how to say it in English sorry). I also think something about her having 3 fake identities could mean something but I’m not sure yet (Elizabeth, Helen, Emily).
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My hypothesis is this, even though the admin couldn’t remember why she wanted revenge towards Zepheniah and achieving said goal by watching the legacy of his family slowly crumble by making the siblings fight each other for eternity and then forcing him to watch it... I think the admin is the daughter or some family member of one of the hypothetical Zepheniah’s siblings that he murdered because of “instincts” like he said, like it’s a family tradition that one sibling must kill the others to steal their achievements and continue the Mann legacy (I feel like the statue of the thinker made by Rodin and Zepheniah replacing its head with his could be a metaphor of that)
ALSO, ANOTHER THING THAT BACKS MH HYPOTHESIS:
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If the admin had no correlation AT ALL with the Mann family, then how did she know about the australium even when she was a child? (note: she probably didn't know what Australium could do, calling it "Fools gold" until Gray Mann told her about the power it actually had and then she had the motivation to continue her revenge, however this doesn’t mean that she wasn’t in contact with the Australium before)
And one last detail and symbolism
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The roses that grow up in the grave could symbolize Zepheniah and in general, Mann’s legacy. By cutting the roses and putting the mere stems on his grave, could mean that she is cutting this “legacy” or rather “dooming” to become nothing at the end of it by making the brothers fight and all the gravel wars stuff, not letting one brother succeed over the other unlike the past generations.
Hm, there are more things on my mind but first I want to re-think it better and if everything makes sense. I’m open to suggestions, corrections and or even a better wording of my theory. This is all rushed to which I apologize. 😔
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hardladyheart · 22 hours ago
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Wings & Lightning (Eddie Munson x Angel! Reader)
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A/N: If you might be interested in reading more for this then let me know. I also would like to do some drabbles if anyone would like to request one.
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Eddie couldn't believe what he was seeing. It all started with a huge storm that shook his trailer. The winds were ridiculous, and he was just happy that he thought to board up the windows before it started. The rain, unfortunately, kept coming in through the vents in the ceiling and he worried that the water would rise high enough that it might reach inside his van. Lightning lit his surroundings almost quickly enough to think the lights were still on inside. His brown eyes looked out the small window in the door and the sight made his ringed fingers shake.
The only place the lightning was hitting was AROUND HIS TRAILER!
"Shit..." he kept repeating the same word as his hand went through his messy hair. His mind went 90 miles an hour with thoughts: Was it Vecna? What if it was another attack? What if everyone is in danger again because of something else? Just because they closed the gates doesn't mean something else didn't get out without them knowing. All of these thoughts terrified him to where he had to sink onto the nearby couch, or he would collapse on the floor.
Knock, knock
His brown eyes grew wide as he looked at the front door. Should he open it? Who would be knocking on his door during this storm.... unless it was an emergency! He moved to the door quickly, his hand having a hard time yanking the door open due to the sweat that covered his hand.
Swinging the door open hard enough that it banged against the wall, he stared at what was before him. He had never seen anything like it, except maybe in church windows. The most beautiful woman he had ever seen was standing in front of him, the rain going around you like you were in your own little bubble. Your huge wings were the same as an eagle, the browns leading into white at the tips.
'Is this real' he thought to himself as he just stares, the rain pelting the whole front of his body.
"Yes, I'm real," you told him, as if you were replying to his thoughts. "I know your uncle raised you to be a gentleman, Eddie."
His body was almost robotic as he moved and allowed you in with a bow. His body knew what to do even when his mind couldn't catch up. You stepped past him, your scent a strong berry flavor that seemed to seep into his still wet skin. You didn't look around at your surroundings, almost like you had been there regularly. Almost like you yourself lived there.
"Uh, I don't mean to be rude, but what the fuck is going on?" He was still eyeing you, but he still couldn't figure out if the curiosity was winning or the attraction. He noticed your wings had disappeared, but he didn't remember when it had specifically happened. 
You smiled at him, knowing what all was going on in his head. You had done this repeatedly throughout his time in Heaven, every time you had stopped to see him as a matter of fact. It was a blessing and a curse for angels: great if an angel is trying to hide, bad if an angel is in love with a human soul.
"Everything is ok, Eds, we've done this dance before. You won't remember anything about us for the next twenty minutes. It's like a trip wire: after the 'trap' realizes that I want you to remember me then you'll slowly get things back." You patted the couch, "you can sit down with me if you like, I promise I won't hurt you."
He eyed where your hand sat, taking a loud gulp. "A booby trap of the mind? I can forget you, but I can't forget the shit from before... typical." He slowly sat on the couch, but not directly beside you. He was still wary of a beautiful woman having anything to do with him. He didn't understand why he trusted what you said, but it was still hard to let his guard down completely.
"There is a reason for that," you told him as you cocked your head to the side, knowing that he always says this, but you were still very patient with him, "would you like to know why?"
Eddie nodded, his fingers twisting his rings out of habit. He didn't even realize he was doing it anymore, but it helped to calm him down. He watched your face brighten as you spoke to him; he couldn't help but notice that you were even more beautiful than he thought you were when he opened the door.
"You can't forget the bad stuff from before because the bad stuff makes you, well you. If you forgot the bad, then you wouldn't have become the man who saved his friends by sacrificing himself for their sakes. That's one of the many reasons I fell in love with your soul, Edward, and even if there was a way to take it away from you, I wouldn't."
"W-wait, you love me? H-how long have we known each other?" Then it hit him. "Wait, I'm dead?"
You giggled at him as his eyes almost came out of his head like a cartoon. "I told you; it will come back to you in a little while. We've been together for centuries, at least I think so. Time doesn't work the same way here as it does for the living."
His eyes looked to your perfect lips as he automatically licked his own. How many times had he kissed you? Had there been more? "I-I have so many questions..." You nodded for him to continue. "Did I die in the Upside Down?"
"Yes, the Demobats, as Dustin called them, attacked you."
His brown eyes slid to the dark couch in front of him as he whispered, "did everyone make it?"
"Max was touch and go for a while, but she needed to be in the grand scheme of things. Her mind was the final battleground against Vecna. Not even I can explain how that worked. Everyone else came out with some cuts and bruises, but relatively unharmed."
Eddie grabbed your hand that still lay on the couch, your skin warm to his touch. "What happened to everyone?"
You smiled as your thumb rubbed the back of his hand absentmindedly. "Well, Vecna was destroyed, Steve and Nancy got back together and had six children who all went on to do wonderful things. Lucas and Max stayed together for a little while after she came to, but it didn't last, and they ended up on separate sides of the country. Lucas wanted children while she didn't. Mike and Will got together and adopted a few pets between them. El stayed with Hopper and Joyce while Jonathan moved in with Argyle to create weed on pizza. Robin practically lived with the Harringtons as the favorite aunt; Dustin and Suzie got married and had a son they named Eddie, but Edward when he was in trouble." You always loved how his face lit up at the mention of Dustin's son. You kept an eye on every single one of them... just for him.
"And how did we meet?"
"Well, I was the angel that was supposed to show you the ropes; to pretend to be your next-door neighbor that just moved in to help you along the way. It was an accident that you found out I was an angel. There was an emergency, and I had to literally fly in front of you so then I needed to explain. As long as I was in my 'human' form you could remember me, but after the illusion, now it is twenty minutes." You shrugged, not seeming to be bothered by it.
Eddie hadn't realized how close to you he had gotten as you spoke, but he could now see a few specks of freckles that covered your nose and could count your eyelashes if he wanted. He still looked at your lips.... he didn't know if they were perfect to him because you were an angel or because you belonged to him.
You giggled and it sounded so sweet to him. "You can kiss me if you want, Eds."
He looked into your eyes with confusion. "Don't you have to remain 'pure' if you're an angel?"
"Do you consider a kiss to be impure, Eddie," you asked him with humor in your voice.
He got closer to you then, his eyes back to your mouth as he licked his. "I guess it depends."
"That's a story for another time," you whispered, your lips gently caressing his in the best kiss he ever had.
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Tags:
@justmeinadaze
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