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#like it must be nice to not need the same amount of help/get the help
neuroglitchy · 1 month
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oh hello, yet another ADHD app designed to help with routines!
unfortunately I can't afford your subscription, do you know why?
BECAUSE I CAN'T MANAGE THE MOST BASIC ROUTINES WITHOUT THE HELP YOU PUT BEHIND A PAYWALL YOU PREDATORY FXCKS!
I'm open to recommendations, in case any of you found a free alternative to apps like Brili, Tiimo, Routinery or RoutineFlow...
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sissa-arrows · 3 months
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The amount of people who are NOW saying that “Israel” is not respecting international law and that the West needs to stop selling them weapons… all it took was Israel deliberately killing 6 white people.
More than 40000 Palestinians being killed wasn’t enough but now that white people were killed and that it’s impossible to make it look like an accident there’s outrages?
“They killed them despite the fact that the cars were clearly marked as carrying humanitarian aid workers. They killed them despite the fact that they were on roads approved by Israel who tells them those are safe road they can and have to use to carry humanitarian aid. They bombed them multiple times making sure everyone was killed. Our weapons might have been used to kill them so we must stop selling them weapons.”
Palestinians have been saying it for years. For decades. They have been saying it more often since October they showed us pictures and videos of the IOF terrorists killing people with white flags. You didn’t say anything now they are killing your volunteers with marked cars. Palestinians showed us and told us how the IOF terrorists were killing them in “humanitarian corridors” how they were telling them “take this road it’s safe” and then killing them. You didn’t say anything now they are killing your volunteers on humanitarian pre-approved safe roads. Palestinians showed us and told us how the IOF terrorists never strike only once. They strike a first time then when people are trying to help and get the wounded out they strike a second sometimes a third time to kill the wounded and the people who came to help. You didn’t say anything and now they are killing your volunteers striking a second time a third time to kill those who are “just” wounded. Palestinians have showed us and told us that the weapons the West send are used to kill them to kill their children to kill innocent people. You didn’t say anything and now they are using your weapons to kill your people too.
Lastly Palestinians but also people of color in general have been telling you that what you allow Israel to do without any consequences will eventually be done to you and people will justify it. Well guess what? It started. And while it’s nice that you are finally calling out Israel none of us will forget or forgive the fact that 40000 Palestinian lives didn’t make you feel anything but 6 white lives did. When 40000 people were killed by Israel the same way as your volunteers you didn’t believe that it happened that way you called Palestinians collateral damages but now suddenly you care? Your support to white supremacy to Israeli supremacy and to colonialism is what killed those 7 volunteers including the 6 white volunteers. You’re just as guilty as the IOF terrorists.
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moonlesslights · 1 year
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Two Idiots in Love
Miguel O'Hara x Reader
Warnings: Sex, P in V, choking, breeding kink, innuendos, Miguel it's fucking hard to talk to.
A/N: Hope you enjoy this, I haven't sleep well for three days trying to get it done, but it's finally here. Love y'all xoxox
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Ok, but what about you becoming an Spider just about a year ago?
You are managing just fine.
Things got nasty for a while, that’s true. Your uncle died, your new responsibilities caught up on you, you almost die fighting some bad guys on your first months… And now you just try to eat three times a day (sometimes it doesn’t happen), pray to get more than six hours of sleep and do good in college.
But then, out of fucking nowhere, just when you were making peace with what your life was now and who you are, your identity, your place in this big ass world where you were completely alone to bear this double life… This giant prick with sullen face and cheeks the size of the moon comes into your life to tell you you’re not alone, everyone here has experienced the same or worse, stop being so dramatic.
So, in a second, your protagonist moment turns to you finding out there were thousands like you out there. And your whole life goes upside down.
Because now you don’t have to protect and look out only for your Earth, your city; but everyone else’s too. You have to travel to the most craziest worlds you could’ve ever imagine and fight horrible creatures you couldn’t even conceive its existence. And to make things even worst, Mr. Wide Hindquarters took an special hold of you to help him out with anything he would be ‘to busy’ to do. Like inform new recruits about their missions, filling out reports, doing research either respecting to what he occupied in the laboratory or to some universe yet to be explored… Whatever he needed, you would be called in to do it.
Some Spiders told you you were lucky, not many could work that close to Miguel, let alone being in charge of so many things without screwing something up and getting ‘their head ripped’. Even Lyla tells you that you’re something special, specially on the hard days, that’s why Miguel trusts you so much. After that you would just smile tiredly at her, whispering it was okay. Then Lyla would go face Miguel and demand him with a raised eyebrow to give you a break.
You manage for a few months, surrendering yourself to this strange routine. And your even more strange companion.
Every day you walk in to his space, every day he is already there. You turn a personal mission to arrive before he does. You never make it. The man apparently didn’t sleep and you aren’t waking the fuck up at 3:00am to prove a point or find out. So you let it be as another mystery to be solved.
“Good morning.” You wave your hand at him, making your presence known with that. Sometimes between a yawn, sometimes still cleaning the sleepiness off of your eyes.
“Good morning…” He always adds your last name to his greetings. It makes you feel like you are being scolded. Most of the time he is at the tables, working through the screens; if he’s not there, he’s at the lab, measuring substances with the help of crystal clear instruments.
Without looking at you, he points with his chin to the steaming coffee under the express machine. Through the weeks he has learned exactly how you like it. The first ones he made you were exactly like his: Awful. That couldn’t be drinkable. But you thought it was nice of him to always have hot coffee for you, so you didn’t say anything. But the faces you made at every sip were worth a thousand words.
Now, as you drink today’s, you cannot avoid thinking how cute that big stoic man must look every morning pouring the exact amount of sugar and cream you like into the cup. Moving the liquid with a tiny spoon until is all mixed.
He doesn’t talk much.
No more than orders and “Go home” followed by a “Good night”. You let him be for the first weeks. Not your business. But after the first month you knew you would go crazy if you continued this way of living.
You needed to talk to him. You needed to make things less awkward. He was your only human contact sometimes for entire days, and you cannot stand the fact of barely talking to him.
You don’t have idea how does the term “coworkers” serves on his Earth, but in yours, Human Relationships are encouraged to happen for the sake of teamwork.
With that very idea well tangled on your mind, one of those long days, you take a deep breath, imagine him naked (which isn’t difficult to be honest), stare deep into the space and say:
“Sohowhaveyoubeen?” Squeaking as fast as you can.
Miguel stops whatever the hell he is doing and turns his head to the right, side eyeing you with a raised eyebrow. You don’t even look at him, continuing to fill the document in front of you with the most unstable smile he could have seen in his entire life. Then, he turns around again, coming back to typing into one of the screens. You almost think he has completely ignored you until he answers in another fast and neutral line:
“I’m good.”
You give him an acknowledging nod, smiling softly and returning to your duties.
You had never wished so much to be victim of a lost bullet. Like right now. Like right fucking now. Please.
For one more week you took another personal mission: making a question a day.
“How was your day?”, “Did you have breakfast?”, “How was yesterday’s mission?”… It would be a good day if you got more than a monosyllable for answer. It was embarrassing, really. And Lyla looking at you with a grimace made it ten times worst.
After that, you just came in the eighth day and remained silent, focused in finishing all your work as soon as possible rather than trying to make your prick boss to talk to you. You felt bad, actually. Maybe he just doesn't like to talk, maybe you were making him uncomfortable, maybe... Maybe he's just an arse. Yeah, that is probably the right...
"Hm? Uh, what... What is this?" You look up from your tablet, facing the broad of his back walking to the desk at the other side of the room. You raise an eyebrow at the small cardboard box in front of you, the one that Miguel just left there.
"Food." He says as answering the very question to the origin of the universe.
"For me?" You tilt your head and he looks at you like you were stupid. You frown. How were you supposed to know that, when he barely even looks at you?!
"I did too much." He explains. "... So I brought you some. You can throw it away if you don't want it."
You look down at the box again, watching it as the weirdest of things, and cannot help the little smile that creeps up to your lips. You knew Miguel didn't eat at the HQ cafeteria, since he owns an apartment close from here, so this was completely homemade. Hm, you never thought he was into cooking.
"Why can't I give it to someone else if I don't like it?" You respond with an easy smile, almost teasing him.
"Throw it." He sentences without even looking back at you.
You side eye Lyla at your left, who winks at you. This is a whole ass victory. And you and the little hologram girl knew internally Miguel did not like the day you decided to stop trying to talk to him.
"Thank you." You finally murmur. "I really appreciate it."
"It's just leftovers..."
You nod, pursing your lips and… Still smiling. Fuck it. It was obvious he was going to dismiss it with something like that.
None of you says anything else for the rest of the day, but you make the choice to keep trying on the small talk every day and Miguel, apparently, started to mess up the amount of ingredients for his meals and brings leftovers almost daily.
You continue with this new routine for another couple of weeks.
With the time passing, you gain more and more confidence to talk to the big guy. Most of the times he doesn’t engage in the conversation, it is just you saying your thoughts out loud and telling him everything about your life at college, 'till the point he has a personal beef with some of your classmates. I mean, he doesn’t say it but he surely grunts under his breath every time you mention their name.
Gwen did asked you at some point if he really listened to you or if he just... Left you. You wondered the same for exactly... two hours.
"... And I handed him my essay, right? And he looks at me and says: 'So are you going to tell me who is helping you with these or am I going to find out myself?' So I obviously told him nobody was helping me, I just like doing them. And he freaking threatened me saying that if he founds out he's going to fail me. Like... He doesn't even listens. Agh, he hates me..."
"Is the same one who got angry because you were late to his lecture about himself and his recently published book?" That was a week ago. And he remembered.
You nod, sighing. Miguel clicks his tongue, shaking his head with disapproval.
He might not be talkative (at least for now) but he listens to you. You have no doubt left about that. He may not say a single word while you drop a hundred for minute, but he would come the next day asking "How was the test?" or would know you have classes with that professor and add to his daily good night a soft "Good luck tomorrow." You even start catching him lifting the left corner of his lips when you drop a bad joke about all the things you need to get done by the end of the day or about something you heard on your way there.
You noticed it when certain Spider came in to a meeting, a Spider two days ago you and Miguel had gossiped about because you were told something by your friends on Wednesday, Miguel heard some more on Thursday and with a final comment you put the pieces together on Friday, looking at him with a wide proud open mouth as he shook his head with a soft chuckle. Talking to the Spider in question Miguel would turn to you with the most neutral and blank expression and you would still fight to hide your smile at the memory of everything you found out during the week. No one ever noticed and you liked it. Miguel liked it. It was like a private joke only the two of you could share.
"But what would happen?" This was the part Miguel didn't like. "Like, how would you know I would fuck up something?"
"You cannot give Noir a kaleidoscope." He sentences, giving you another raised eyebrow.
You were in the middle of the daily session of Instructive and Informative questions, according to Lyla and you. Miguel prefers to call them Destructive and Irritating.
After today's mission you had taken a particular soft spot fo the black and white Spider, to the misfortune of your boss. So the whole session has been about the long shot of taking special gifts from your dimension to him.
"But why? Really, what's the worst that could happen if I just give him a tiny little kaleidoscope?"
"Ay, Dios, dame paciencia... You already gave him a rainbow slinky spring toy, why do you keep insisting on gifting him more stuff?"
He fix his gaze on you as you lower your eyes down to your lap, fidgeting with your fingers. "... He just looks happy when he sees color."
Miguel sighs, pressing the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger.
"I know, but every one of us needs to respect the natural order of our Earth. He shouldn't keep taking things with him that shouldn't be there, do you understand?"
"But..."
"No more 'but's'. I want those reports done by the end of the day." Miguel returns his eyes back to the screen in front of him, dismissing you just with that action. "Get to work instead of keep losing our time with this."
He hates the way you comply to his orders. Hates the way you leave the space beside him empty to go working at the other side of the room, where he can only see your back. He hates when you refuse him to see your face.
The human part in him hates the questioning sessions because they always end up with your heart too big for your own good, crushed a little bit more. The human part in him is what brings him closer to you after a few minutes, talking you through some trivial topics until he can convince you it is all not as bad a it seems, until you smile again when you insist it's okay, that you just needed a minute, that you understand. And he might o might not tell you can give Noir that fucking kaleidoscope if you want it so much.
But some deep and primal part in him whispers into his veins to walk up to you, take you by your jaw, forcing you to look up at him and order you you better not refuse your face to him one more single time again. That if he wishes to see your eyes, the curve of your nose or your lips, you better fucking show them to him... Every day. Every. Time. He. Wants. To.
He gets frustrated when he catches himself in the middle of those thoughts, of the drives. He has been able to control it magnificently 'till now. But he fears the day he won't.
For another while you enjoyed the 'leftovers' brought to you too. But it also came to happen the one day, they stopped being leftovers:
You yawn as you make your way to the exit of the lab, making sure your alarm for tomorrow is correctly scheduled, you can not afford another harsh look from your professors one more time. The building has fallen silent already; most of its ordinary inhabitants have already retired to their rooms or to their home worlds.
Miguel walks up to you from behind, watching you standing at the door. Neither of them managed to see even a ray of sun today. He didn't care, he had something much better to watch all day… But he can't help but sigh at the thought of taking it from you.
"Italian or Mexican?" You turn to look at him, barely catching what he said. Both of your brows furrow and he glares at you while adjusting the neck of his jacket on. "For tomorrow's lunch. You want me to bring Italian or Mexican?"
"Oh, uhm..." You widen your eyes, surprised by the consideration. Pursing your lips and squinting, you think about it for a second, but the only possible answer comes immediately after: "Mexican."
"Hm." He nods, fixing his eyes to the front again.
Both start walking now towards the exit of the building. You know you can open your portal to go back home now, but you refuse to do so. Miguel knows there's an exit on the other side of the lab that leads him to a closer path to his apartment, but he refuses to take it. Because you always take this one.
"It's getting chilly." You whisper, watching the first snowflakes of the season falling on the other side of the big windows in the lobby. Miguel hums in response. "I like it, though. The first month working with you I had to carry a fan with me everywhere. I am so sorry for the cost of the electricity bill back then."
Miguel tugs at one corner of his lips, but only that. You tilt your head, glaring at him for a second before you take two fast steps to put yourself in front of him. The poor man has to stick his feet to the floor to avoid knocking over you.
He frowns, confused, and you look up at him with those same eyes filled with determination you put on when you look at the cookies he always -purposely- leaves on top of the highest cupboard in his office. He could only describe it as the face of a master plan, because you would always come back with ideas to get them down without asking him for help. And he loved to play guess with what you would do this time.
"Smile for me." You ask as you were some kind of cameraman, and if he was confused before he's into a new level now.
"What?"
"Y'know..." You bring both of your index fingers to the opposite sides of your face and part your own lips into a simple smile, like showing him what he was supposed to do.
"I know what smiling is." He frowns. "Why do you want me to do it?"
You shrug. "I just... I would be really happy to see it."
Miguel's expression remains unfazed, but he prays to every God out there you can't listen how hard his heart jumped inside his chest when your words reached him.
He swallows. His eyes fix on you and he brings both of the corners of his mouth up, exposing bright teeth and two big fangs that brush on his lower lip in the most precious awkward smile you could have ever seen. His brows are drawn together and he looks like he's in pain, and you know that even if a fucking meteor crashed down in the city right now, you still wouldn't be able to look away.
You clear your throat and lament how his smile is gone as soon as it came. You brush your hand at the back at your neck, nervous, fucking ashamed of your imprudence. Miguel raises an eyebrow at your reaction.
"Thank you. That was nice of you." You smile, avoiding his eyes and solely focusing on the snow awaiting for you. "I'm sorry if it was unpleasant for you. I didn't mean..."
Your words get caught up in your throat when you suddenly feel the texture of fabric coming around your neck. You turn back to look at the front again only to find Miguel tugging his scarf on you, with his fingers making sure it hugged every part of your skin your sweater couldn't.
"Miguel, no. It's even colder here than on my Earth. You need this more than I do." You frown with a worried expression washing over your features.
"You'll come back tomorrow pretty early. And it's going to be cold." You could try and argue about you having your own scarfs to bring tomorrow with you, but his eyes tell you he is not asking.
"... Thank you."
Miguel laments the moment your turn around, laments the moment you don't look at him anymore. He is sure the smile from a minute ago hadn't been anywhere near one of his best, and yet your eyes shone with the light of all the moons he's seen in all of the Earths he has visited.
And as you do a little wave when you start walking away before entering your portal, Miguel waves back, slowly and with only two unsure swings of his wrist. It was enough to make you smile anyway. It was enough to keep him standing there even after you were long gone wondering what the hell he was doing.
When Miguel began to bring food made specially to share, you began to bring desserts from your Earth for him to try.
You both started having lunch together after you told him how tired you were of eating while standing. Don't get me wrong, when you first told him he 'offered' you to go eat at the cafeteria if you wanted it so much. But when he dismisses you for the second time the next day with a 15 minute break to go find somewhere to sit, you, instead, sit down reluctantly at the very center of his work space, just a few meters behind him.
Miguel has to do a fucking double take to make sure he is seeing right before turning around at you calmly crossing your legs on the floor and unboxing today's meal with abrupt and resigned movements.
"Could you be so kind as to explain to me what you are doing?" He tilts his head with amusement when you take the first bite of your food.
"Eating."
"Sitting on the floor?" He raises an eyebrow.
"Sitting on the floor." You nod.
"Care to explain why?" He crosses his arms, pursing his lips when you refuse to raise your eyes at him.
"... Because of you." You murmur, taking another unnecessarily aggressive bite.
"Elaborate, please."
You keep on looking down, chewing the morsel in your mouth. Miguel awaits for you with well known experienced patience. By now, he recognizes when you are mad at him or the world, he sees how you fight to keep calm inside of all of this mess, that's why he always tries to encourage you to talk out the things that bother you, because he's there, he can listen; because he likes the way you smile after you let it all out.
And maybe...
"I don't care about eat sitting comfortably at the cafeteria. I want to eat with you. So if you want to stay here be my fucking guest. I'm staying here too."
Because you were the only one who could throw a tantrum at Miguel O'Hara without flinching.
You have earned that right. You didn't know when, because you insist you don't throw tantrums at him; you're a college student, basically an adult, you don't do tantrums. And still...
"Fine, spoiled girl..." He sighs, walking to get his own little box from the table and then coming to close the space between the two with a few long steps. He sits down right beside you, imitating the way you're crossing your legs. "If you want to eat on the floor, we can eat on the floor."
"I'm not spoiled." You hiss, giving him a deadly side eye that puts on a soft, almost unnoticeable grin on his face. Lyla had made fun of him a few days ago about him spoiling you, but instead of getting on his nerves he took a liking for the nickname. And now you suffer the consequences of it all. "And we wouldn't be eating on the floor if you decided to go to the cafeteria for once."
"... I hate talking to people."
You sigh, nodding. That's exactly why you never push him to do anything of that sort.
"I know." You turn to look at him out of the corner of your eye, noticing how he keeps his head low while eating. "Hey" You call for his attention, smiling. He blinks up to you, tilting his head. "It's okay." Your shoulder drops to his arm. "I like being here. I'm not stuck with you, you're stuck with me."
That makes his eyes catch a little bit more of light.
"Thank you." He whispers.
You stare at him for a second more and he fights to put all of the mess inside his head, his feelings, into his tongue... But he can't. You continue eating, and he knows you would never hold a grudge on him for it, and he's so thankful for that, for you being able to understand the way his actions speak when his words can't. But he still aches at the thought of never being able to tell you everything he wants.
The next morning you walk in to find out a new cleared space beside the screens with an elegant glass table and two chairs. It surely looked expensive, like everything he does and has, but for you, it's just the little corner where you can leave that particular cake from your Earth he seems to like so much, and then go to the laboratory to see the cake you seemed to like so much.
After two more weeks enjoying the day-to-day in the usual things in your life, you and Miguel got to a mission which revealed as the true calmness before the storm.
The anomaly you had fought was stronger than expected, more aggressive, more letal. Everyone had run lucky at least two times to escape from its claws, but you can still remember their closeness, the screams, the sirens at the distance. It all almost ends up with another canonic event altered.
"There's always a first time." Jessica had told you when you finally finished off the anomaly. She was worried about you, and you can't blame her. You haven't even registered how bad you were trembling until it was all over.
"Is there going to be a last time?" You replied, looking up at her with big eyes. And Miguel, only a few meters behind you, still trying to give some last orders to every Spider there, felt his heart breaking at the very sound of your words.
Nevertheless, thankfully, the universe remained perfectly fine and just a couple of hours later everyone was back home safely again. Most returned immediately to their Home Earths, but you, Miguel, Jessica, Lyla and a couple more had ten thousand things to do in the HQ before calling it a day.
"I thought I told you to go home an hour ago." Miguel points, coming from behind you.
You turn your head to look up at him and you can't not smile at the sight. The feeling of safeness that floods you when you see his huge figure entering any room hasn't wavered for a single second. He's still that solid ground you can always rest on when the world is to heavy to carry alone.
"I'm serious. What are you doing here?" He continues, grunting in pain when he drops his weight beside you. You turn to him, furrowing your brows in worry again. He had seen that expression in you so often today... And he hates it so much. "I'm okay. Just little scratches here and there."
You withdrawn your feet from the edge of the building where you had them hanging for an hour now and crawl your way to him, sitting down on your knees to try to be eye height with him.
Your right hand wanders to his bruised neck, there where the anomaly had left his horrible mark of the violence it brought within. You follow with your index the way the clotted blood draws on his skin, sending shivers down his spine.
"Does it hurt?" You ask.
"No." He responds in between goosebumps.
He loves the effect your touch has on him. He loves your little hands looking for him, tugging at his clothes to call for his attention, brushing against his when you pass him the tablet, documents, anything. He loves the busy days where he doesn't have time to eat, where he wouldn't eat if it wasn't for you sitting beside him as he works on the screens, you scrolling through your cellphone, taking little pieces of food with a spoon or a fork to bring them closer to his mouth so he could eat without even taking his eyes off the screen.
Ridiculous? Yeah. But he loved the intimacy within. The many forms your soft hands could soothe him.
But his? He hated them. He was scared of them. Their only use was to destruct, to tear flesh apart, not to...
"Show me." He asks, pointing with his chin at your left hand placed softly above your thigh.
"It's nothing."
"Let me see it." He insist and you carefully bring your arm up, placing your fingers against his when he holds out his hand for you. Your whole palm is bandaged, the work the doctor did on you was amazing, but he can still see dried blood on it.
He doesn't say anything when he finds your eyes on him, conflicted, hesitant. There is so much between both of you, so much unsaid, so much still to do. But he sees your doubt, he hates to be the cause of it. He stays still, but he wants to scream at you, to make your little head understand: "How can't you see?! Can't you see how much you mean to me?! You're the only thing in my mind when I'm fighting, because I know I have to win, I have to get out alive to see you again. Eres lo único por lo que mi corazón llama!... Can't you not hear it?"
Instead, the tips of his fingers brush on your skin, his eyes reflecting every single light of the city below.
"Come." It's only a whisper that leaves his mouth, and you need nothing more to jump into his embrace with a desperate sigh, immediately cuddling yourself up on his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck, looking for his warm.
Hold.
He loves to hold you.
His hands serve to hold you.
To hold you against him, to protect you from anyone who wants to rip you away from his arms. To keep you warm, to keep you safe, to let you know you're home.
"Aquí estoy." He whispers.
"I know." You reply.
You breath into his scent for a couple of minutes more, until the screams and the sirens fell low to the sound of Miguel's chest going up and down in a soothing swing, his breathing, turning into the only thing you could listen to.
By the time you got your head out of his neck, he was already waiting for you with a soft smile, smile that puts your attention on the deep cut on his lower lip.
"What happened?" You ask, carefully pulling from his flesh to see the whole extension of the wound.
He sighs, closing his eyes with embarrassment. "I bit myself during the fight."
You smile, shaking your head. Your fingernail taps against the right fang in question, testing the edge by gently pressing the tip into your fingertip.
"I hate them." Miguel breaths out. His eyes are now so dim that you struggle to say where are they looking at in the middle of the night darkness.
"Why?" You whisper, taking your finger back at his lip.
"Because I fear of them. I fear they'll hurt you like they hurt me."
You purse your lips and then take his hand placed on your hip, looking back at him with raised eyebrows.
"Is the same with these?"
He nods.
"They are made to kill. I have done so many horrible things with, caused so much damage and pain, I..."
"Did you know I'm scared of heights?" His trail of words stop at your interruption. You smile, looking down from the edge, turning away form him just a little. "Ironic, for a Spider. But I still fight with it every single day. I always get so sticky when I'm on top of a building for too long it's embarrassing but..." You raise your hand in front of him, waving your fingers with a playful smile. "I'm not sticky now. And that it's because you're holding me." You cup his face. "Those things you're afraid of, are part of the person I love. And I wouldn't change a single thing."
"Mi cielo..."
"I knew what I was getting into when I decided to love you, Miguel, so don't get all soft now. I'm not going anywhere..." You whisper. "Make me bleed."
He would be lying if he said he haven't thought about it, that he haven't succumbed to his most animalistic urges when alone in the privacy of his room, pretending it was you around his cock and not his fist. He wanted to bite, he wanted to fill you. And he wanted to tear apart with his bare talons anyone and anything that got in his way.
A part of him might be scared to hurt you, yes.
But a bigger part of him was actually scared of what he would do to keep you safe. Of what he's capable of... to keep you his.
He feels sorry for you when you cuddle against his chest in your sleep as he stands up and starts walking back inside the building, covering you with his jacket to protect from the cold wind of the city for when he swings back to his apartment with you in his arms.
He feels sorry for the innocence in your love.
Like a beast, that's what he was. A beast who loved the softness in your touch, the kind in your words. But cannot return the same love. The beast is possessive, jealous of the very air that caresses your hair. And it may act vulnerable only to you, letting you get as close to slaughter him, but knowing you'll place a kiss instead. The beast would hold you as his own treasure, a creature that must not be hurt, not even for his own hands. He would cut them off before.
He would cut them off from anyone before they touch you. For no one should ever touch what he decided, that very morning you asked how he had been, would belong to him.
AND EVERYTHING WOULD HAVE CONTINUED ON GOING SO SMOOTHLY... BUT THE DAAAAAAAAMN FINALS, ah, made their entrance.
You barely have time to sleep, to eat, to fucking breathe. Your levels of anxiety are higher than the HQ damn building and your brain is so overworked you cannot do more than what you're asked to in autopilot. You know that you're only going to be like this for approximately another two weeks, but your poor lover has suffered the last four days thinking you're sick, or sad, or worse... Mad at him. No, not in that order.
"Arañita..." He calls for you. Your hand moving over your notebook at one hundred km per hour concerns him.
"The reports are done. Peter from -5266 and Hugh from -1993 are out right now. They should be getting back at any minute. Anomaly #125 was sent to its original universe this morning." You push the tablet to him with your free hand without even looking up or slowing down your writing.
"Thank you, but..." He tilts his head, furrowing his brows. "Are you okay?"
"Yes. I just need to get this done before four. By the way, can I leave early today? I need to study for tomorrow's test."
"Again? Didn't you have one yesterday?"
"Yes. We're on finals, Miguel. We tend to have a lot of them these days. That's why I'm losing my mind over here."
"Just for some tests?" You have to stop yourself to remind you it's not his fault to be smart. It's not his fault being more intelligent than almost every person you knew. It's not his fault he doesn't know what is to struggle on school. It's not his fault, It's not his fault, It's not his fault... "You haven't even touched your food." He says, looking at the little box he got you with the meal now cold.
"I... I know. I'm sorry, Mig." You sigh, looking up at him for the first time in the day. "I'm just really stressed out right now. But I promise I'll take it back home later, okay?"
This was also the fourth day you didn't stay at his place. My man doesn't want to be a burden, but he has attachment issues, ok?, and after the week you spent sleeping in his arms, it may or may not be that Miguel has been having trouble falling asleep without the weight of your body on his chest.
After watching you leave that day, Miguel found himself staying till unreasonable hours of the early morning working in the lab. There was no point on going back to his cold apartment anyway... And he had a lot of things to get done. He didn't have time to...
"Oh, it's you." Miguel jumps in his place at the sudden voice calling from behind. "I thought that poor girl had stayed here, with all the things she seems to be doing these days."
The man shakes his head, ignoring Jessica closing the distance behind him, leaning against the door frame. Miguel can almost make out the little smile on her lips without turning around, and that only infuriates him even more.
"And why do you look like a caged lion?" She mocks. "Trouble in paradise?"
Miguel's first instinct is snap back at her and ask her to leave him alone. He knows she would comply, what he doesn't know is how benefic that would be for his current situation.
"I don't know what's going out with her." He admits, letting his head fall in irritation. "She says she's having some tests right now, but she's just to... Stressed? I don't know. She's so smart I cannot conceive how bad this is affecting her." The laugh that emanates from Jessica's throat makes his ears go red. "What?"
"Oh, babe, when was the last time you went to college?" Jessica puts both of her hands on her waist, pursing the lips to avoid smiling again.
"Why is that important?"
"When, Miguel?" She demands.
"Ugh... I don't know. Like four-five years ago."
"When was the last time you failed a class?"
"Never." He immediately responds.
"When was the last time grades were important on your Earth?"
Miguel frowns. "I don't remember. The path for learning had changed long before I was born. I don't even think I ever had something like a grade. We were judged individually for our skills and our intelligence type. Not memorization."
"Exactly." She claps, pointing at him with a all-knowing finger. "Thanks to that you got the chance to develop your true abilities as a student, but our girl from 2023 it is not beneficiary of this privilege. She doesn't get the chance to strengthen in what she is good, she must memorize and memorize and memorize over and over again. Because the tests on her Earth aren't done with the purpose of just checking how is her knowledge progressing, they are done to see if she's worthy of continuing forward in her very career."
Miguel remains silent for a minute, swallowing all the new information by pieces. For someone so smart, Jessica has never see him seem so lost. The nuts in his brain begin to turn and turn until his eyes seem to light up with the clarity of the light of the new world.
"Hm." He nods. "Thank you."
The woman knows he doesn't need anything more when he turns around, typing into one of the screens something that escapes from her eyes.
During the rest of the two weeks of finals, Miguel tried to do his best to support you.
He even read all of the information about your education system, striving to understand everything in just a couple of nights.
He's a man on a mission: letting you know he's there, that you're strong and smart, and you can do it.
While you study in the lab, he leaves you be. He gets you coffee, or tea, or anything you prefer. He might even hiss at people entering his space (your space) making too much noise, pointing at you with his chin and threatening eyes.
"Hey, girl..." Peter B. comes in one morning, moving nervously under the scrutinizing gaze of your lover. "Don't be so harsh on yourself..." He gives you some awkward pats on the back, smiling. "You're doing great."
That was all it took.
"No, I'm not!" You weep, letting your head fall on the desk, shaking between sobs.
"Great. Ya la hiciste llorar." Miguel pinches the bridge of his nose, sighing. "Here, give it to her." He calls for Peter's attention, handing him an specific chocolate.
Peter takes it with confused eyes, offering it to you, reaching out his arm as if he were to touch you, you'll explode.
"Here." He says. "Look what I got."
You raise your eyes, meeting the little packing. Then, when you look at him, Peter almost thinks he just made all worst.
"Oh, Peter... Thank you!" You take the chocolate, pulling from him to a big hug. "I love these so much, thank you! You're so kind!"
Peter lets you be, looking back at Miguel who just nods at him to let him know this wasn't his first rodeo. He pats your back, soothing you with some more nervous words until you're ready to let him go.
If you're really struggling, Miguel won't think twice to help you. He's smart, it takes him nothing more than a look to his old notes or a quick search on the internet (specially if you're studying something science related or an engineering, if you're on law or arts, oh boy, you're gonna make this man suffer) to know exactly what you need and make sure you're taking that fucking project tomorrow.
Some other days, he just catches you sleeping with your hands crossed above the table and your saliva drooling out to your notes. His jacket would then come over you, after, he would take your pending stuff and start solving problems and making notes for you to have it easier at the memorizing part of the study.
You always wake up to see the edges of your paper full of arrows, little equations and encircled key words. And, sometimes, a tired Miguel sleeping uncomfortably by your side, just waiting for you to tell him it's time to go.
The day, a Friday, where you're finally done with college (at least for a couple of months) Miguel felt it like the day his soul came back to his body.
You are smiling all day again, calling his name, doing a mess all over the whole building. And he can not be more happy about it.
He might never tell you, me might even justify himself saying he had been staying up late working in the lab every time you ask for the bags under his eyes. Because he's definitely not telling you there were nights where he couldn't even close his eyes 'cause you weren't there with him.
"Time to go home." You hum behind him, getting all of your stuff inside your backpack.
"Thank God" He rubs his neck, walking closer to you to give you a soft kiss on the forehead. "I'm dying."
You yawn, nodding. "Me too. These weeks drained me."
"Me too." He repeats, and you don't know how much he means it. "Let's just go to sleep, yeah? Hopefully tomorrow there won't be so much to do."
You smile, leaning into his embrace as you walk out the door, hearing the lights turning off as both come closer and closer to the exit.
"Yeah, that sounds good."
"Okay."
"Okay."
Miguel steadies your body by pressing down on your hips, keeping your ass on the bed. You try to push his face out of between your thighs but he refuses to pull apart.
"Miguel!" You cry out, tears rolling down your cheeks cause of the overstimulation he was putting you in. "Too much, too much..."
His fingers curl inside you one more time, and your arch your back, almost rolling your eyes at the feeling. His tongue flicks over your sensitive bud again, dragging choked moans out of you. You try to squirm away but his hands pull you from your ass back at him as soon as you start moving.
"Easy there, Arañita. I'm almost done." He smiles up at you, letting you see the lower half of his face completely covered in your arousal.
"Mig... Mi amor..." You breath out, trying to push him out again when his chuckle crashes against your folds.
"One more, love, and you'll be ready for me." He sucks on your clit as he speaks, moving his fingers with an slower pace now. "Uno más, mamita, dame uno más."
He pushes his face down on you, working his tongue all around your most needy spot with his digits burying now deep inside you, hitting that soft place between your walls that makes you want to cry. You're a mess of moans and whimpers by now, but when his teeth slowly press on your clit, it's over for you. Your eyes roll back, your thighs tremble around him, encaging him in his favorite prison as he guides you through it, moaning into your skin when he feels your pleasure dripping on him, motivating his hips to hump against the mattress as a fucking teenager would do.
After you get down from your high, you look up at him to find him positioning himself between your legs, dragging the tip of his cock up and down on your folds.
"Miguel, wait, I'm..."
"You know your safe word, mamita, you can make me stop whenever you want." He places your legs on his shoulders and his hands on your hips, keeping you just as he wishes to. "I'm going in, and I want your eyes on me all the time I fuck you, ¿me entiendes, hermosa?"
You nod, watching the point where both of your bodies would join. He enters slowly, giving you time to adjust his size. But after the first hint of your hips trying to feel him even more, he pulls back and thrusts all the way in, making your head fall back as your back arches.
His right hand grabs you by the jaw, forcing you to open your eyes and observe how red his irises had turned.
"Eyes on me."
His pace speeds up, bottoming out with every thrust he makes. Your hands push at his lower abdomen, biting your lip to avoid crying out loud again.
"Too fast, Mig. Too much." You moan, your still overstimulated clit rips another whimper from you every time his happy trail and trimmed hair crashes against it. You were barely holding on, but your lover can't never get enough. His body reaches down, and as he places one hand around your neck, his other thumb toys at your clit in a excruciating pace. "Fuck! No, Miguel."
You tremble under him, wrapping your legs around his waist when you cannot think about anything more than cumming. Your nails bury on the skin of his back, dragging an out of breath grunt out of him.
"I'm, I'm cum-" You try to voice but nothing in your brain seems to work anymore.
"Do it, love. I got you." He keeps up his pace, almost kissing your cervix by now. "Cum for me, mi amor."
His hand squeezes a little bit harder on your neck and you need nothing else to see fucking white. Your mouth opens in a big O before your start trembling, shaking uncontrollably under his body, letting out the sweetest of sounds for him to hear.
He grunts, falling into the crock of your neck when you tighten your walls around him.
"I'm going to fucking fill you." He's out of breath and he curses something in Spanish you cannot make out. "I'm going to put a baby on your tummy, mamita..."
"Miguel..." You were on the verge of tears again, you cannot longer feel your legs but you surely can feel him deep inside you.
"Yes, love. Fuck... I'm cumming. I'm..." He bites down on your flesh, sinking his fangs into your skin when his hips stutter. His talons grow so big they dig into the headboard.
You moan at the feeling, hugging your body to his until he can breath normal again.
When he looks back at you his eyes have returned to that soft brown you're used too.
"Are you okay?" He asks, sending shivers down your spine when he caresses the sore skin.
"Yes." You smile and he traps your lips into a kiss. "And now I'm really fucking tired."
He chuckles, lifting his weight onto his forearms.
"Come here, amor. Let's take a shower so you can rest comfortably." He places another soft peck on your forehead. "I'll wash your hair."
You definitely know he will do more than that.
PD: Tbh with you guys, all I could think about while writing this was this tiktok:
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fatecantstopme · 7 months
Text
Spell Bound
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Pairing: Dean Winchester x plus size!reader
Summary: It's sex pollen...I couldn't help myself.
Warnings: cursing, use of pet names. An excessive amount of heavy SMUT, unprotected sex (P in V), rough sex, oral (F receiving), multiple cream pies
"I freaking hate witches," Dean mumbled as he picked the lock on the apartment door.
You chuckled softly, very used to hearing him grumble every time you were hunting a witch.
He slowly walked into the apartment and you followed in after him.
"So what exactly are we looking for?" you asked quietly.
"Big scary magic book. Sam said it's probably on or near some kind of altar."
"Big scary magic book," you muttered under your breath. "Makes perfect sense."
You sighed as you walked into the living room and noticed several bookcases lined with large books. "You've gotta be kidding me."
Dean shot you a weary smile. "Guess it might take a little longer than I thought."
"You think?"
You took one side of the room and Dean took the other. Sam had described the look of the book to the both of you, but there was really no way to be 100% certain if you found it.
About 15 minutes into your perusal, you spotted a large leather-bound book tucked under what appeared to be an altar cloth. You slowly removed the cloth, wary of what you might uncover. The book was almost exactly as Sam had described, so you had a feeling it was the right one.
"I think I found it," you said aloud.
At almost the same exact moment, a crash sounded from behind you and Dean let out a string of curses.
You spun around to see the hunter brushing off some sort of florescent pink dust from his face. "What the hell did you do?"
"I was moving some of the books and this box fell out and some powder just kinda...sprayed my face."
"Seriously?"
He looked sheepish. "I didn't even see it."
You sighed. "Great. God only knows what the hell that was."
He looked at the box carefully, but there was nothing written on it to identify the powdery substance he had inhaled. He gave you another sheepish look and shrugged. "Maybe it's not harmful."
You shot him a stony look. "Dean...it's a witch. It's not gonna be fairy dust."
He sighed, knowing you were right. He started shifting his shoulders a bit as if he was uncomfortable.
"Let's get out of here. I'll call Sam on the way back to the motel and see if he has any idea what it could be."
Dean nodded and followed you out the door. By the time you got outside the building and to the car, he was twitching like an addict in need of a fix.
"Dean?" you asked tentatively.
"My skin feels like it's on fire and--and it's like--itchy. And there's a weird feeling inside that I can't describe, but it doesn't feel nice."
"Okay...how 'bout I drive?"
He looked up at you with concerned eyes, but he handed you the keys and got into the passenger seat. You knew he must really be feeling terrible if he was letting you drive Baby.
You started the car up and pulled out of the parking spot while simultaneously calling Sam on your cell. He answered on the third ring.
"Dean got some sort of witchy powder on his face and now he's...itchy?" you said quickly in lieu of a greeting.
Sam sighed. "What are his symptoms?"
You put the phone on speaker. "Dean, what are your symptoms?"
Dean couldn't look at you and when he spoke, his voice was barely above a growl. "I feel like crawling out of my own skin, everything aches, and I'm having a hard time breathing right. Oh and I can literally smell (Y/N)'s skin, which is totally not normal!"
"You can smell my skin?"
He grumbled under his breath. "I can smell your skin and your shampoo and your goddamn body wash, and I want--fuck. What the hell is wrong with me, Sam?"
"Uh, I honestly don't know. Let me call Bobby and see if he has any ideas."
You set the phone down on the seat beside you. "Maybe you're turning into some kind of animal?"
"What?"
"Well, I mean...you can smell me...which is weird and kind of--animalistic."
"I don't think that's it," he said harshly. "My body is aching in a way I can't even begin to describe to you, but I don't think I'm morphing into anything."
You eyed him carefully, worry etched into your face. He was your closest friend and trusted hunting partner, and you hated seeing him like this. Witches scared the shit out of you...you knew what they were capable of.
"Maybe drive a little faster," he hissed.
You pressed harder on the gas and the Impala shot down the road. When your phone rang, you answered it immediately.
"So I think I might know what it is, but I have something I need to ask Dean first," Sam said.
"Okay." You looked at Dean. "Can you hold the phone? Sam wants to ask you something."
Dean took the phone from your hand, hissing as his skin made contact with yours. "What?" he grumbled.
"This is gonna be awkward, but I need to know, okay? Do you feel--umm--aroused at all?"
Dean was silent for a moment as he let his brother's question sink in. Ohhh fuuuuck, he thought to himself. He glanced down at his jeans and noticed the bulge straining against them. With the intense pain he was experiencing, he hadn't really noticed. "Son of a bitch," he mumbled. "Yeah."
"Okay, well the good news is, I know what it is. It's called sex pollen."
"It's called what?"
"Sex pollen. The name doesn't really matter, but you have all the symptoms. They're only going to get worse until--well until you die."
"Die? Is there a cure?"
You looked over at Dean in terror, your foot pressing down even further on the pedal. Dean's hand was shaking slightly as he put the phone on speaker so you could hear.
"You have to--uhh--well--shit. You have to umm...fuck it out."
"I have to what?"
"Dude, I know, okay? But you don't have a choice. If you don't you'll die a rather painful death."
"Son of a bitch," Dean said again. "Can I, umm, take care of it myself?"
"According to what Bobby read, the only option is actual intercourse with another person."
"How long do I have?"
You were acutely aware of Dean's close proximity to you, and now you understood the nature of his pain. Your own breathing was more labored, but you desperately tried to maintain control of yourself. Don't make it weird, (Y/N), you thought to yourself.
"30 minutes from the time of contact until...until death," Sam answered.
"30 minutes?" you gasped. You started doing the math in your head as Dean continued talking to his brother. "We have maybe 10 more minutes until we get back to the motel and that leaves about 10 until..."
Dean looked over at you, his normally green eyes dark with need. "I'm so fucked," he muttered.
"That doesn't really leave us time to find someone for you to--you know," you said worriedly.
"Shit."
"Might wanna make it fast," Sam said.
"Obviously," Dean snapped. "How long will it take to...get out of my system?"
"That depends," Sam began. "If it's meaningless, one and done. If it's someone you care about...that's another story."
"Another story?"
"It could take a lot longer."
"Great," you mumbled.
"Sam, don't be there when we get there," Dean growled at his brother before hanging up the phone.
"Dean?" you questioned softly.
"Just drive, (Y/N)."
You continued driving, but your focus was most definitely not on the road. You could hear the heavy breathing and the soft pained sounds coming from the man beside you and it made it nearly impossible to concentrate on anything else. It certainly didn't help that you had wanted him for years and seeing him like this was making you feel things you absolutely shouldn't be feeling.
Dean flirted with you regularly, but he flirted with almost every person he came into contact with. It's just a part of his personality, so you never read into it. While Dean quite obviously adored you (and you him), you were not his type. You were a good fighter, sure, but where you really excelled was research. You were brilliant--almost as knowledgable as Bobby, though you still had plenty to learn. You were also significantly more--voluptuous than the women Dean gravitated to. Soft, chubby, more to love--whatever you wanna call it. As such, you'd never made any sort of move to announce your feelings for him. You didn't want to face his rejection.
"Sweetheart, if you don't speed up, I'm liable to die before we make it there," Dean hissed.
You shot him a look. "We're less than two minutes away, so don't die on me yet, Winchester."
He exhaled sharply and nodded. "I'm not gonna make it either way, (Y/N). Like you said, we don't have enough time to find a, uh--partner."
You took a deep breath. "I can't let you die."
He looked over at you and you felt his gaze boring right into your soul. "I can't do that to you."
"I really don't see how we have much of a choice here."
You pulled into the motel parking lot before he could respond.
"Let's go," you said quickly as you got out of the car and made your way to your room.
Dean was right behind you, so close you could feel his breath on the back of your neck. As soon as the door was unlocked, Dean was pushing you through it and locking it behind you.
"Shit," he muttered. "I don't wanna hurt you."
"It's okay, Dean," you said softly. "I'm not afraid."
His eyes widened and he grabbed your chin. "You should be...I'm going to lose control."
"It's alright...use me."
He let out a low growl and squeezed your chin tighter. "I--I won't be able to make this good for you."
You pressed yourself against his body, feeling the hard ridges against you. "It's not about me. You need this."
That was all it took for Dean to let go. His lips attacked yours with a hunger you were not expecting despite the intensity of the situation. He was not at all gentle as he tore your clothes from your body, ripping his own off with equal force.
He tossed you down on the bed with shocking ease. He had absolutely no difficulty manhandling you. You weren't sure if it was the sex pollen or just him.
His lips and hands were everywhere, touching every inch of your soft skin he could possibly reach. He needed to be inside of you so badly it was almost impossible to breathe. His skin burned with each touch and his instincts screamed at him to just break you.
He moves his way down your body and you're surprised as he stops just above your core. "Dean, what are you doing?" You knew he needed a release--and soon--or he wasn't gonna make it.
A voice in the back of his mind kept reminding him this was (Y/N), his (Y/N). Even in his current state, he wanted to avoid hurting you if he could. "Need to get you ready," he grunted.
The words were barely out of his mouth before he was devouring your pussy. The sounds he made were incredible, the feeling almost electrifying. He slid two fingers in and moved them in a scissoring motion to help loosen you up.
He was only down there for a 30 seconds before he came up and locked eyes with you. "I can't hold off anymore."
You nodded. "Just let go. I'll be okay."
He knew the moment he slid inside you, he'd be a goner. Whatever tiny amount of self control he'd managed to hang onto would disappear in an instant. But he could also feel the roaring agony inside him and he needed to feed it before it devoured him.
"I'm sorry," he whispered against your ear a split second before he sheathed himself fully inside you.
You cried out--pain mixing with pleasure as his large member stretched you in ways you'd never before experienced.
Dean couldn't give you time to adjust--he was too far gone. His hips began to move and his sole focus was on his own pleasure--his own release.
His thrusts were powerful and fast, so much so that your body started to scoot farther up the bed. He grabbed your hips and held you in place, pace never faltering. The sensations were almost painful given his size, but you wouldn't have stopped him even if you could have.
"Fuck, baby--you feel so good," he grunted.
You were more than a little surprised when he spoke--you hadn't pegged him as a dirty talker. Then again, it could very well have been the pollen. The same could be said of the sounds coming from his mouth. You'd never heard such sinful noises and you loved them.
"So tight--squeezing me so good. Feels like heaven."
You squeezed his cock purposefully, making him groan each time you clenched down. He needed his release and you were gonna make sure he got it. Your own enjoyment was far from your mind--this was essentially a transaction--a lifesaving measure. You had to view it that way to protect your heart...at least that's what you told yourself.
"Baby," he moaned. "Imma fill you up--so close."
Despite the voice in your head telling you this wasn't real--that you shouldn't have any emotional attachments--you reached up and touched his face, caressing it lovingly. "Cum for me, Dean," you whispered.
His eyes locked on yours and he bit his lip--hearing you say his name in the heat of the moment was a bigger turn on than he'd ever imagined. It pushed him right over the edge and he spilled inside of you with a grunt.
You lay beneath him, panting despite the minimal exertion on your part. He'd had his orgasm, but he was still moving, much to your surprise. "You're not done--?"
He shook his head. "Need more."
He pulled out and quickly flipped you over with no warning. You instinctively lifted your hips to allow him access, which he took without hesitation. His cock was still throbbing and the need still burned in his veins. His mind remained singularly focused on his relief--his pleasure.
He slammed into your pussy and set a brutal pace, earning a cry of pain from your lips. This new angle allowed him better access, sending his cock deeper inside of you. His head brushed against your cervix with each thrust, a stinging pain accompanying the pleasure.
Dean's large palm came down on your ass with a hard smack, eliciting a gasp of surprise from your lips. Your pussy clamped down on his cock as he landed another slap to your round cheek.
"Fuck baby, you like that don't you?" Smack. "You like it when I slap this sexy ass?" Smack. "Fuck--squeezing me so tight, sweetheart." Smack.
He was right though, you loved it. You always had, but there was something extra enjoyable about having your ass smacked by Dean Fucking Winchester. Even if you couldn't verbally express your pleasure to him, your pussy made it well-known.
Dean's right hand gripped your hips tightly, pulling you flush against him as he continued pumping. His left hand trailed up your back until he grabbed a fist full of hair at the base of your neck and pulled. Your head snapped back and you cried out, but you didn't fight him.
"Do you know how badly I've wanted to pull this hair, pretty girl? Fuck--I think about it all the time." His pace was relentless and his hand remained entangled in your hair.
You'd never really noticed him looking at your hair in any particular way, so you assumed once again the pollen was making him say such dirty little things.
After several more thrusts, Dean let go of your hair and pushed down on your upper back, forcing you to press your upper body into the mattress. Dean gripped your hips with both of his hands and slammed into you with an intensity that was unmatched by any of his previous actions.
You had a feeling he was close to another orgasm, at least if his grunts and curses were anything to go by. You clenched down around him again, intent on pushing him past the brink.
It worked like a charm. Dean came with a cry of your name, thrusts continuing as he emptied inside of you once again.
You were exhausted and you hadn't had a single orgasm. Part of you really hoped Dean had gotten it all out of his system, but another part of you didn't want this to end. Even if it wasn't real--even if he didn't actually want to be having sex with you, you liked pretending, if only for a little while.
Dean pulled out of you slowly and rolled you over with a surprising gentleness. You assumed that meant he was satiated and the pollen was out of his system.
When you met his eyes, you were surprised by how brilliantly green they were. You'd almost gotten used to the dark forest color that had taken over as a result of the pollen. He was looking at you with an odd expression you couldn't quite place, but for some reason it made you want to scurry away and hide.
"Better?" you whispered.
He cocked his head to the side and a small smirk played on his lips. "Not even close," he murmured.
His lips met yours in a fiery kiss before you had time to respond. Unlike the previous kisses, this one was more passionate, more intense. It made your body tingle all over and a warmth spread through your veins.
Dean's brain fog had finally cleared enough that he could actually slow down and focus on what was happening--on what he was doing, or rather who. He hated that he'd cum twice without even thinking about you, let alone making you orgasm. Dean prided himself on being an excellent lover and he wasn't about to let you leave this bed unsatisfied.
His cock brushed against your pussy as he shifted to hold you closer. You both inhaled sharply, enjoying the sensation. Dean's lips began to travel down your neck, leaving soft, wet kisses in his wake. He nipped at your pulse point, earning an excited moan from you. He liked hearing that sound, so he sucked on that spot until you were panting heavily beneath him.
His hands traveled over your soft curves, touching and squeezing all the parts of your body you were self-conscious about. Dean didn't seem to give a damn that your stomach wasn't flat, that your hips weren't narrow and your thighs weren't skinny--in fact, he seemed to be reveling in the feeling of softness.
His lips were so gentle as he continued his downward movements. He kissed and licked and sucked on each of your breasts, spending several minutes focusing on each one. "You have such perfect breasts," he murmured.
You were too surprised, and perhaps too lost in pleasure, to formulate any kind of response to his words. Luckily, he didn't seem to need one, and he refocused his attention on you.
Once he was satisfied your breasts had received enough love, he continued moving down your stomach, stopping to place soft kisses to every mark and scar he saw.
When he reached your sweet pussy, he spread your legs as wide as he could and settled down between them. You were surprised at his actions, especially since you knew he was still hard--that he still needed another release.
Dean was now singularly focused on one thing--and that was you. Now that his damn brain was working properly, he wanted to make sure you enjoyed this--even if it was a one time thing because you didn't want him to die, he wasn't about to walk away from this without making you scream his name at least once.
He breathed in deeply, smelling your arousal mixed with his own spend, and he smirked. His eyes flicked up to yours and his mouth latched onto your clit, unleashing an overwhelming assault on your swollen mound.
You gasped as the sudden pleasure washed over you. You couldn't take your eyes off the man between your legs--nor did he take his eyes off you. Every time your hips bucked or you tried to move, his strong arms held you in place so he could continue to watch you.
You were writhing against the sheets in what felt like seconds--it was probably longer, but either way you felt embarrassed at how quickly you fell apart under his touch. Your orgasm tore through you like a hurricane, broken moans dripping from your lips.
To your shock, and perhaps concern, Dean didn't stop his assault on your pussy. Even as you tried to squirm away, he held you in place, desperate to give you another orgasm. You whimpered that it was too much, begged him to give you a break, but all of those words quickly morphed into pleas to keep going--don't stop.
"Dean," you gasped as your fingers slipped into his hair, grabbing hold of the short locks by the roots. Your nails scrapped lightly against his scalp and he let out a soft groan.
His tongue seemed to dance across your clit, creating beautiful designs and languages only he seemed to know. He paid attention to what motions made you quiver, which ones made you moan, and which ones had you tugging on his hair with an iron grip.
"Dean, please--I--so close," you moaned.
He smiled, enjoying the immense pleasure he was giving you just as much as you seemed to enjoy it. A few moments later, you were once again coming apart against his mouth and he eagerly lapped up everything you had to give him.
This time as you tugged on his hair and squirmed away, he obliged, lifting himself up from between your thighs. He licked his lips as he looked down at your blissed out face.
"You taste like heaven, baby," he murmured. "Wanna taste?"
Your pretty (y/e/c) eyes widened and you nodded hesitantly. He smiled wolfishly as he leaned down to kiss you, tongue invading your mouth almost instantly, allowing you to taste yourself.
You moaned into the kiss and he held you even more tightly, lips sealed to yours like he needed your air to breathe.
He wasn't entirely sure how he'd managed to control his urges long enough to coax two orgasms from you, but he could feel that control waning. "I need you, baby," he whispered against your lips. "I need you so badly."
You looked up at him, a small smile playing on your lips. You lifted your hips to brush against his cock and he groaned at the contact. You nipped at his jaw and pulled him back down to you. "Fuck me, Dean. Please."
He groaned. "Yes ma'am."
He didn't hesitate as he gripped his cock firmly and lined it up with your entrance. He slipped inside easily, having plenty of lubrication to assist him. Despite having been inside of you multiple times at this point, he was still taken aback by how fucking incredible you felt.
"God, I love this pussy," he murmured. "She was made for me."
You moaned softly at his words and the feeling of him inside you once again. As he started to move, he was much more gentle and you found yourself enjoying the sensations--perhaps more than you should.
"You're so good for me, (Y/N)," Dean mumbled, already lost in the feeling of you.
You would have given anything to hear him say that, but the words broke your heart a little. Had he had any other choice, he likely wouldn't be here right now--you wouldn't be the one he was fucking.
"Hey," he whispered, a rough, calloused hand running along your cheek as he looked at you. "Where's that pretty little head at?"
You smiled at him. "Right here, Dean."
Somewhere inside of him, he knew you were lying, but the damn pollen was still affecting his senses. He accepted your response and went back to his actions, focusing on the feeling of your pussy wrapped around his cock like a vise.
He wanted to feel you cum one more time...wanted to feel the way you'd squeeze his cock as you came. He wanted to watch you come undone beneath him, lost in pleasure he gave you.
He grabbed a pillow and gently lifted your hips, sliding the pillow under them. This provided him a new, improved angle, allowing him to cage you beneath him and hit that sweet spot inside you.
"Dean!" you gasped as the first thrust hit your g-spot.
He grinned and picked up his pace, slamming into it repeatedly. Each thrust sent you closer to the edge of an orgasm you knew would ruin you. Dean Winchester already made you feel things no other man ever had and his ability in bed was no exception. Damn him.
His thrusts were firm and measured, each one sending wave after wave of pleasure crashing through your body. The familiar tightening in your gut was so intense you thought you might actually explode.
Dean's strong arms were on either side of your head and he was looking down at you with that same strange expression from earlier. "You're so damn beautiful, baby. I wanna watch this pretty face as you cum for me."
You gasped, unprepared for the way his words made you feel. You felt emboldened, so you asked for what you needed. "I need more, Dean."
His hand slipped between your bodies, a single finger gently massaging your clit as he continued to fuck you. "That better, baby?"
You nodded rapidly, earning a soft chuckle from his sweet lips.
"You gonna cum for me beautiful?"
You nodded again.
"Yeah? I want you to keep those pretty eyes open when you cum, okay? Wanna see you fall apart."
"Dean..." you whispered.
"I know, sweet girl. I've got you."
Your brain seemed to short-circuit in that moment. All you could feel was a blinding hot pressure immediately followed by an intense euphoria. You heard someone scream "Dean!" and you belatedly realized it had been your voice.
The intensity of your orgasm sent Dean spiraling over the edge of his own. He hadn't even been prepared for it--the mixture of you screaming his name and the sensations of you squeezing him so tightly and the gorgeous way your face contorted as you came was all he needed.
He emptied into you a third and final time, his cock finally beginning to soften as he helped you ride out your high.
He pulled out and flopped down beside you on the bed, his body aching from what had to be some of the best sex of his life--sex pollen or not.
You were just as sore as Dean--probably more so given you literally couldn't move. The two of you laid there in silence, slowly coming down from the electrical highs you'd experienced, both trying to catch your breath for the first time in what felt like hours.
Dean was the first to recover. "Did I hurt you?" he asked so softly you almost didn't hear him.
You turned your head to look at him and your heart clenched at the expression on his face. He was genuinely worried, brows furrowed in concern. You contemplated lying to him, but you knew he'd see right through you.
"A little," you said honestly.
He winced and his beautiful eyes closed. "I'm so sorry, (Y/N)--I would never hurt you on purpose--ever."
You offered him a small smile he couldn't see, until your hand touched his cheek and he opened his eyes again. "I know."
There were a thousand other things you wanted to say--a thousand words you wanted to string together into just the right sentences, but you couldn't. You wouldn't put yourself through it.
"Shower?" he asked softly.
"I honestly don't think I can stand."
A smirk played on his lips. "That should not make me feel so damn good."
You laughed lightly, glad to hear the teasing tone in his voice that you loved so much.
He managed to pull himself into a sitting position. "It's not ideal, but there is a bathtub..." he trailed off.
"I wouldn't mind a bath," you admitted.
He nodded and got to his feet. He was a little unsteady at first, but managed to make his way to the bathroom. You heard the water running as he filled up the tub.
You laid there thinking about everything that had just happened. This was a position you'd never imagined you'd be in--with anyone, let alone Dean Winchester.
You knew this wasn't something you were going to be able to forget about, but you hoped things would go back to normal between the two of you and eventually this would just be a funny story.
Suddenly, Sam's words from earlier snapped into your mind. "If it's meaningless, one and done. If it's someone you care about...that's another story."
One and done...one and done. This most definitely had not been a 'one and done' scenario. But didn't that mean...? No. No way. Impossible. Dean Winchester does NOT have feelings for you.
You began to rationalize your thought process. Maybe "care about" included a friendly relationship. Yeah...yeah that made the most sense. Of course Dean cares about you. You're his best friend. There couldn't possibly be anything more to it...right?
As if on cue, Dean stepped back into the room. "Bath's ready."
"Okay." You tried to pull yourself up, but you immediately fell back against the mattress, body too worn out to sustain any kind of movement.
Dean chuckled lightly and came up to the side of the bed. He pulled the pillow out from under your hips and slipped his arms under your body, hoisting you up bridal style.
"Jesus!" you yelled. "Put me down! I'm too heavy--you'll throw out your back."
Dean laughed. "Calm down, (Y/N). I just threw you around this bed repeatedly with zero issues. I promise I can carry you to the bathroom without dying."
"But--"
He glared at you and tightened his grip on you as if to prove his point. "Ain't a damn thing wrong with your body, so shut it."
Your mouth closed immediately. His words sent a jolt directly to your core and you were almost annoyed by it. As if three orgasms wasn't enough...
Dean very gently set you on your feet in the bathroom and slowly helped you into the tub. As soon as he got you into a seated position, he got into the tub as well, slipping in behind you.
"Umm...whatcha doing?"
"Taking a bath."
"Isn't the tub a bit small for both of us?"
You could feel him shrug behind you. "I think it's perfect size. Now come here." He grabbed your shoulders and gently pulled you back so you were laying against his chest. "That's better," he muttered.
Your mind began to race once again as you laid there, body tense and uncomfortable.
"Okay, (Y/N), I know you better than anyone, so don't you dare lie to me. Where's your head at?"
"I--" you sighed. "I'm not really sure how to feel."
He nodded. "I know you didn't want this--I feel like I had to literally force myself onto you and I hate that. I know you only agreed so I wouldn't die, but--"
"Woah--stop." You sat up and turned your head to face him. "That's not true at all. You didn't force me to do anything."
"Okay, maybe 'force' is the wrong word...but you did have sex with me to save my life. Do you know how ridiculous that sounds?"
"I'm painfully aware," you muttered.
He ran his hand over his face. "I'm not saying any of this right."
"Then what are you trying to say?"
He bit his lip. "Remember what Sammy said? About...how long the effects would last?"
You nodded.
"Well in case you didn't notice, I had three orgasms."
"Both me and my very sore vagina noticed," you said lightly.
He sighed. "Do you understand what I'm trying to tell you, (Y/N)?"
You turned a little more so you could see his face better. He had that same look he'd had when he was making you feel incredible. "I need to hear you say it..." you whispered.
He nodded and leaned forward so his face was mere inches from yours. "He didn't mean 'care' as in 'we're friends, so I care about you'...he meant 'care' as in 'love'."
Your lips parted and you inhaled sharply.
"So you see, I don't just care about you as a friend...and I don't just love you as a friend...I'm in love with you."
"You--you love me?"
"In love," he repeated. "For as long as I can remember."
"You're in love--with me?"
He chuckled softly. "Who else would I be talking to, baby? Yes, I'm in love with you."
"I--I don't know--" you stuttered.
"The only thing you need to know is how you feel. Do you know how you feel about me, (Y/N)?" he whispered.
You nodded slowly.
"And?"
"I'm in love with you too."
He grinned widely. "Yeah?"
You nodded, cheeks turning red.
He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you back against him. He looked down at you with that expression he'd been wearing and you suddenly realized what it was...it was love--real, true, beautiful, heart aching love.
He leaned down and placed a soft kiss to your lips, which you returned in kind. He held you tightly, loving the feeling of your body in his arms.
"We better get cleaned up before this water gets cold," he said softly, lips pressing to your hair.
"Mhmm," you hummed.
He chuckled. "Don't you dare fall asleep on me, babe."
"But I'm comfortable," you whined.
He smiled against your cheek. "Give me five minutes to clean you up and then we can sleep, okay?"
You looked over at him and smiled. "Deal."
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sttoru · 7 months
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‘if there’s anyone in this world who loves being a girl dad the most, it must be your husband — gojo satoru.’
☀︎|tags. girl dad!gojo x female reader. fluff. you’re married. reader gets called ‘mama, sweetheart’. wrote this at work so not beta read. fic one out of two for satoru’s birthday!
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giggles fill the living room — familiar laughter that sounded like your daughters’. a more sultry and manly voice also resonates in the background. one that you could recognise from miles away.
your curiosity leads you to investigate the source of the joyful sounds and soon enough, you find your dear husband and daughters sitting on the couch. though, in a situation you hadn’t quite foreseen.
satoru was talking on the phone about important business whilst your little girls were giving him a rather sparkly makeover. the most heartwarming thing was satoru’s surrender to your daughters’ antics — allowing them to do whatever to his face and hair.
“mhm, yeah..” the white-haired sorcerer hums over the phone, not having the slightest idea about what ijichi was yapping about. probably something that has to do with the recent sighting of a special grade curse in the city.
but, that wasn’t satoru’s priority at the moment at all (even if it should have been). his focus was all on his two daughters that were enjoying their playtime with him.
“papa’s so pretty.” one of them comments with a big smile — a smile satoru wishes to protect until his last moment on earth. her fingers push and pull on a small strand of his hair, trying to tug it into another ponytail.
satoru had already lost count of how many messy and half-done ponytails his snowy hair got divided into. the same goes for the amount of stickers on his face and neck.
the two sisters work together to put another pink and glittery sticker on satoru’s chin — though were no match to their father’s playful attitude. he jerks his head forwards and teasingly nibbles on their tiny hands that came in touch with his face.
this causes almost ear deafening squeals to reverberate through his ears. not that he’s complaining — satoru loves to hear them.
“. . .gojo, are you listening?” ijichi’s shaky voice over the phone interrupts the squeals. satoru doesn’t even try giving a proper response and only mutters a quick ‘yeah’ between snickers. that was enough of a sign for ichiji to understand that he couldn't get through.
everyone knew how much satoru loved his little family. he cherished them and put them above everything, including his work. sometimes it was necessary for you to remind satoru that he's needed outside your home - that he was and will keep being the strongest sorcerer that people depend on.
"wow, you two really made papa super pretty!" satoru coos as his daughters bring him a hand mirror. his phone had already been discarded somewhere on the couch - not even bothering to hang up on ijichi first.
your husband effortlessly picks the children up and cuddles them close to his body, smothering them both in sloppy wet kisses on their cheeks and necks - making them giggle uncontrollably. "y'know, papa will give you both a nice little reward for making me so beautifu—”
a faint cough echoing from the mobile device next to them reminds satoru that he was still on call. he reaches out and grabs his phone, rolling his eyes in a sassy way before clearing his throat;
"i need to attend important business. see ya." the sorcerer declares and hangs up right after. to him, playing around and taking care of his daughters was more than necessary. even in comparison with an actual critical situation: it wasn't like there weren't any other special grade sorcerers that could take on the mission.
the second his phone plops back down on the couch, satoru's hands fly over to tickle his little girls' bellies. they wriggle and squirm around in his lap - squealing for help from their mama.
you had been watching the scene unfold from the doorway and decide to join in on the fun once you hear your daughters’ call. you gasp dramatically before scurrying over to the couch, acting like you were genuinely scolding your husband for his 'torturuos' tickles;
"oh no, my little girls!" you pout, taking in the way your daughters laugh and outstretch their tiny arms towards you, searching for an escape in your arms. you gladly help them away from their dad's grasp, though not without getting a whine out of satoru.
one of your daughters sticks out her tongue at the sulky sorcerer on the couch, the other mimicking her sister's actions. you chuckle and decide to do the same; frowning and sticking your tongue out.
"ack!" satoru clutches his chest, fingers curling around the material of his shirt like he just got shot. he topples over on the couch and acts dead with his eyes half closed, "i can't. . . believe. . . it. my girls hate me. ugh, my heart - can't take it."
you scoff at his exaggerated act. you were used to it after years of dating and marriage, but your daughters seemed to still take the bait. they writhe around in your arms and once you put them down on the floor again, they run back to their 'fallen' dad.
they shake him by his shoulders and harshly pat his cheeks in attempt to bring him back to life. a constant loop of 'papa!'s and 'wake up!'-s echo throughout the house. even some 'we're sworry!'-s thrown in-between.
satoru couldn't take it anymore and his arms move at the speed of light so he could pull both of his daughters in a big hug. he squeezes them a bit too tight to his chest, causing them to shriek and laugh.
"are you not joining us, sweetheart?" satoru asks with a shit-eating grin. it's then that you realise that he was blushing from pure joy — his cheeks rosy. well, you couldn't possibly deny his request when he was this ecstatic.
the high-pitched 'mama too! mama too!' coming from both girls mellowed your heart even more. and thus, you give in.
you happily join the pile - climbing on top of your husband and between your daughters which lay on each of his sides. your head rests on his chest, your eyes closed and your ears filled with laughter.
satoru eventually relaxes, however that genuine smile never leaves his lips. this is where he belongs. with his family - the most important thing of all.
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dovesndecay · 1 month
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It's June! It's Pride! It's (my) Birthday!
The Introduction Spiel:
Hi, I'm Reyah! (any pronouns! no really, go for it!) On June 21st, I'm turning 32, an exciting and mysterious age to be!! (So I've heard)
Warning: This is a post asking for financial help, and if there's one thing I would ask is that if you read the whole thing: please reblog.
I'm a multiply-disabled queer person of color, a writer, artist, and photographer. I live with three of my best-good-pal-friends, (@renthony, @kryptidkhaos, and @natalieironside) and our collective army of pets.
We all know it's damned hard to be all these things at the same time under the capitalistic hellscape we're living under, and we/I am always in need of a lot of help with the existing.
I ended the month of May with some smaller bills left still to pay, but am thankful to say that June already had fewer bills than usual due, and the amount I need to start the summer off right is actually less than I was afraid it would be! Woohoo!
What I Make
I mentioned my artistic endeavors, let me show you them!!
Writing
I write less often than I'd like, but I share poetry and shorts, when I have them, on my Patreon!
You must be over 18 to pledge, as I have, can, and will again share Adult Content occasionally. Patrons pledging at least $1/month get access to all content. But most posts becomes free to access eventually. :)
When I do longer form content, I primarily write fantasy with a focus on queer brown characters with disabilities, mental illnesses, and disordered attachments. Because therapy is expensive, and writing is free.
Photography
I do wildlife and landscape photography, primarily, but you can also check out my portrait and event work on my website! You can purchase PRINTS HERE.
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And because it's my birthday, I'm offering a 32% discount code for all my prints! The code is good from June 1st to July 1st!
A Note, if you purchase a print: first off: thank you. (please feel free to send a photo of wherever you display it!!!) secondly: this will not go towards the received totals on my financial need because Pixels doesn't pay out until nearly 2 months after the purchase. Funds made from sales will go towards future needs.
CODE: PDHHTR
Artwork
I've been exploring art, both analog and digital, a lot more lately, and have shared both process photos and final drafts on Patreon! Here are just a few examples:
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I admittedly don't post on patreon as much as I wish I had the energy to, but I try to make at least one thing a month, provided I have the spoons and time.
Creativity is, like, a level 5 spell slot when you're disabled and impoverished, and I appear to have exactly One (1) of those available at any given time.
The Needs:
The Bills: $1,100
Yeah, we had to get here eventually. Since this post is already pretty long, I'm putting the rest under a cut.
More than half of this, as always, is just for the car payment and insurance that keeps the regular day-job-haver getting to said job, and all our medical appointments, errands, etc.
I still owe around $13,000 total on Johnny Car, but I think we all know that's just not a real number.
The rest of the funds would go toward paying the small subscriptions, for my various medications, and the regular attempts to whittle away slowly at the $4,300 worth of other debt.
($2,200 of back taxes, and $2,100 of credit card debt, and gods, do I mean slowly. Interest piles up so much faster than I can seem to whittle.)
If you're able and willing to help with paying the bills, direct donations can be made here:
PayPal | (link)
Venmo | (dovesndecay)
Cashapp | ($dovesndecay)
If you can, and only if you can.
The It Would Be Cools:
Since every dime that comes in goes primarily towards food and bills, there's little left afterward to be put towards other life necessities like clothes, toiletries, let alone things I just think would be nice/neat/nifty to have.
I have a High Priority wishlist. It's mostly art supplies, bulk toiletries, etc.
I'm woefully low on clothes, being short, fat, and trans, so very little of what I own actually feels good to wear so much as it simply covers my body. I have a wishlist of clothes that would be nice to have.
For everything that firmly lands under the "I just want it" category, I have an Enrichment list. It's mostly stuffies, but also games, room decor, hobby supplies, books, and stim toys.
Our household keeps a big wishlist for things we need, want, groceries, accessibility products, and everything in-between.
Okay, now what?
Well, now, I'm gonna ask that if you got to this point, and if you can't/don't want to do any of the things listed above, then please reblog this post.
The more people that reblog it, the more likely I'm able to pay my bills for one more month this year.
But if you don't, it's not like anyone's gonna know. I'm not omniscient, I swear.
Anyway, I don't expect anyone to do anything if you can't or even if you just don't wanna, but if you can and you're willing to, it means the world.
I didn't think this is where I'd be at 32. But I never really expected to get here at all in the end, and it's a lot nicer than I thought it would be. Mostly because I am surrounded by amazing people who have the capacity to be so much kinder than I will ever have the words to describe.
Thank you, and to all, a happy pride!
🧡💛💚💙💜🤎🖤
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fizzy-dizzie · 2 months
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When Bucky hugged Steve for the first time since he got the serum, they were alone in a tent. They had just got back to the base camp after their miles long walk back from the hydra base and they were both exhausted.
Steve is situating himself around the very nice, fancy tent that he insisted on sharing and Bucky hasn't taken his eyes off him since he saw him from the table he was strapped onto. Steve. Little Steve. Steve who got sick every winter and who's asthma played up every summer. Steve who had been 5'4 and had remained as such since he was 14. Steve who got into too many fights and never won but not once for lack of passion.
Bucky has to say something, because he hasn't been saying anything since escaping the base and now he feels like he's about to boil over. "Steve"
The same big blue eyes he's always known greeted him and were quick to lace with concern. "You okay, Buck?"
And generally speaking no, Bucky was not okay, he'd been experimented on, he'd been taken by the enemy and strapped down to a goddamn table and he couldn't even remember half of what they did to him there.
For all Bucky knows he could drop dead at any moment but he isn't thinking about that, because he's thinking about how Steve is here, in front of him, all 6'2 of him. He's thinking about how the breath exiting his mouth doesn't follow with wheezing, or how he can take the full rib expanding breaths when he needs it without coughing until there are tears forcing themselves out of his eyes.
Bucky steps forward, his hand gently presses against the expanse of Steve's chest. He stops himself from gawking considering the fact you could park an eighteen wheeler on this thing, he even opens his mouth to say just that but then he feels Steve's heart beat, steady and pumping under his palm.
It's only slight considering the amount of muscle and thick bone in the way but he can feel it all the same and it's not stuttering and irregular. It's pumping blood, lots of blood wherever Steve needs it, constantly and in all the right places instead of spending most of its time in the lowest point of the body.
If Steve were to get sick this heart would help him get better instead of having to fight to keep itself working, and his new lungs might get congested but they wouldn't spasm every time he needed a breath of fresh air. Steve won't be laying in bed all winter sick and out of his mind with any and every illness that has always loved making his life a living hell.
Steve is healthy.
And suddenly feeling overwhelmed, Bucky clears his throat and blinks away any escaped liquid from his eyes, which are very pointedly looking towards his hand. Because if he looks up at Steve and sees those blue eyes all concerned, seeing right through him like they always do, he really will loose it.
"You're okay.." He mumbles mostly to himself.
It comes off as a statement more than anything and a choked out one at that but Steve knows, because he always knows what Bucky is trying to get at. He places his hand over Bucky's wrist and just holds him, his hand is steady and must be magical because Bucky grows calm at the touch.
"I'm okay."
Feeling himself falter at the affirmation, he leans in, arms wrapping around the waist he could once circle completely with one arm. But he almost backs out as quickly as he started it, the foreign body giving the wrong signals, like hugging a coworker or a distant relative you see once a decade.
But taking a deep breath to centre himself, Steve smelled like he always did, plus the scent of cheap soap hardly lingering, faded from the long day they both just had.
And when he ran his hands over his back he could feel the familiar humps of his spine and count them all the same. Even Steve's hands find the same spot on Bucky's back as they always used to, where his ribs end and his back start to dip in at the start of his waist.
Bucky can still reach the hair at the base of Steve's head and run his fingers through it like he used to see Steve's ma do when they were young.
Now Steve sighs into the hug and Bucky squeezes tighter since he knows he won't be doing any damage. They stay like that for a long time in their own personal world, the centre of their own solar system, everything else moving around them, floating within their orbit.
When they pull back, Bucky's hands linger on Steve's waist for longer then they should and when he looks up Steve's eyes are so full of admiration but his nose and eyebrows are scrunched up like he's got something to say.
Bucky takes his hands back to his sides. "what?"
"We aren't going to leave each other again, okay?" He says it so sure, like they aren't going to be in the heat of battle every other day but Bucky wants it just as bad as he does so he nods and smiles.
"You're stuck with me pal, I'm not going anywhere"
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sehodreams · 6 months
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which riize members are sugar babies vs sugar daddies?
This is one of my favorite concepts, thank you!
TW and tags: MDNI, sexual content, sugar daddy!riize, sugar baby!riize, all consensual.
SUGAR DADDIES
Eunseok
The ultimate sugar daddy, the daddiest of daddies, he lives to take care of you, to check you're always happy and satisfied, shopping springs whenever you want, traveling the world next to him and everything you want it's immediately yours. The only thing he wants from you? For you to always have a smile on your face, welcome him with your warm and do everything he says.
A bit toxic though, he doesn't want any man that's not him to talk to you or even breath the same air as you, he wants texts from you always telling him where you are and what are you doing, and you better tell him the true, because if you lie, he'll find out, and when he's angry he's not the same man.
If he fucked you when he was happy, he'd treat you with su much care, not wanting lo leave a single mark in your smooth skin, "that's my girl, always being so good" he'd smile, but if you were bad, lying to him about your whereabouts, he'd leave marks everywhere, for everyone to see that you had an owner, and forget about him calling you his good girl again, "slut, what I give you is not enough? What do you need from him that I can't give you? Fucking bitch" he'd pull your hair, your back pressing his chest and your legs open, to leave as many hickeys on your neck as he could while pressing the vibrator to your cunt, you begging for him to forgive you "I'm sorry daddy, I didn't mean to, I don't know what I was thinking" you'd cry after he denied your orgasm for the fourth time, always moving the toy away when you were about to cum, "of course you weren't thinking, but this is what happens to bad girls who don't think, they get punished".
Anton
He's always lived comfortable, and he knows how good it feels to be taken care of, he likes it, and he wants you to live exactly the same way, or even better. He may be young, and if you're younger it's okay, but he'd like to take care even of an older partner. He'd do anything to convince you to accept his money and gifts, he'd give you his card after some time, but it started with small things, like you asking for insignificant things like a coffee, or some material for school, and he'd send you at least four times the amount you needed. Then, he'd fight to pay your rent and school, slowly talking to you into becoming his sugar baby until you finally accepted his help, and you'd do it only because you realize he really, REALLY, wants to treat you like that, almost like a need.
He didn't expect anything from you in return, only your loyalty and your presence in his life, but after seeing how much he likes to see your needs fulfilled, you just want to reciprocate the care, so you'd always give your best in bed, his favorite position was with you riding his cock because that way he'd have your beautiful chest in front of his face, and you'd do it without complain everytime he came to the place he rented for you, or on the couch he bought for you, saying "thank you daddy, I like this place so much", because it doesn't matter your age, he's your daddy, and he'd cum only from hearing you, saying, "you deserve it baby, you deserve everything"
Shotaro
His case is a little special, he likes to take care of you, of course, but more than that, he lives to spoil you. He'd sent you money even to share with your friends, you're doing a group project? Baby take this and buy everyone's coffee, you want to travel? Honey take this card and stay in a nice hotel, if you want company invite your friends too. he just wants to spoil you to the core, you're the best gift for him, and if he has all that money, it must be to spoil you, right?
When you thanked him everytime you met, falling to your knees and opening his belt to suck his cock, he'd pet your hair, smiling and helping you with it so you could be more comfortable, saying "that's my precious baby, always getting what she wants", because you both know that, more than him, you're the one who needs his dick inside your mouth to feel happy.
SUGAR BABIES
Sohee
This baby has always worked so hard, when you met him he was so exhausted from his part time jobs that he knew he didn't need a partner, but he couldn't help and fell for you, and look at that sweet face, you never thought about treating someone like that, but buying things for him came to you naturally, and when he tried to buy things for you too, you didn't let him, even less anything expensive, doesn't matter the occasion. You only want him to live with that beautiful smile on his face, and you wouldn't be afraid of spending as much as he needed, you had that high position and that salary for a reason.
He'd be so uncomfortable at first, feeling his pride a bit hurt, because when he met you he didn't want you to see him like a boy that needs to be taken care of, he wanted you to see him as a man, and it would take time, but you'd show him, little by little, that what you liked the most was to see him well dressed, feed and happy, and it's not like you don't expect anything from him, you expect him to always be there for you and give you the support you couldn't get from anyone else.
In bed you'd whisper to his ear when he fucked you, "so good baby, that's my boy, always taken care of me" and then he'd feel like everything is where should it be, your card in his wallet, his stuff in your apartment, and you under him.
Wonbin
This manwhore knows he's pretty and knows he can get whatever he wants with his face, but it was different to recieve things from you than with his other partners, he knew you had drawn a limit with him, you weren't in love, and you didn't want him to fall in love with you neither, which made him, as stupid as it sounded, want you even more.
It was like, it started because of his own needs, but now all he thinks about is what can he do for you. You give him gifts, you pay his expenses and tell him he can get anything he wants, but he only wants your time, your praise and your hands touching him, it didn't matter where, holding hands outside, petting his hair when he watched a movie, or making him cry while touching the tip of his leaking cock, he just wanted all your attention on him.
It was so hard to get you all for himself, there wasn't anything more satisfying than you telling him you could spend the day together, and you would like to take him out shopping and to nice restaurants, but what he wants is to stay in your house, drink one your expensive wines, to then have you sitting on his face, or you to let him fuck your sweet pussy that he missed so much the days he couldn't see you, "I can go shopping any day, but I can't have you with me all the time, please just use me when we're alone, please".
Sungchan
This big boy loves gifts, and you love to see you pretty boy all dolled up, wearing nice clothes and looking gorgeous next to you. However, it's important to clarify that he only likes gifts from you, he only wants to be spoiled by you, and he's the one who is more into you.
When you met you didn't pay him any attention, he was just the pretty boy who worked in the cafeteria inside your office building, and you didn't have the time to pay attention to anyone who wasn't you or your client. He, on the other hand, always followed you with his eyes, and not only because of how elegant you looked, but how cold and kind you were at the same time, you never smiled at him, but you always said thank you, and he never expected you to remember him, but when one day he was crying behind the office, and you caught him when you wanted to have your daily cigarette, you talked to him with so much delicacy he'd never forget it "everyone has it hard at first, it's everyone's first life, so don't worry, things get better with time".
And it was true, things did get better with time, you offered to take care of him while he was in school, and he accepted because he needed it, but also because he wanted to be as near you as possible, wiped with your beauty and charm, he liked to be spoiled by you, and he loved to help you forget all the stress from work when you were together. "Always so pretty, please let me take care of you too" he'd say, pressing his fingers inside you before fucking you hard into oblivion, rutting your insides and watching you cry under him, making you dumb with his cock, so different from your usual put together look.
Seunghan
I can't help but see this boy following you around like a puppy, hugging your arm and saying "Noona, what do you think of this bag? Please buy it for me" with that cheeky smile, and you'd pull out your card to buy anything he asked for. He loves to be spoiled, and you love the smile he has after you buy him what he wants. You don't give him your card, but you always sent him money, and in exchange he sends you pictures of him doing his usual stuff, a picture of him in the cab he takes to school instead of the uncomfortable bus, pictures of him drinking coffee and studying, of him sweaty after playing basketball with his friends, he'd just sent you pictures of him doing everything, only expecting your daily good night.
He doesn't mind that you don't send him pictures of you, or that you don't answer him that much, because he knows how you smile when you see his pretty face on your phone, and that's enough for him, he knows your busy.
In bed, however, he needs to hear your voice all the time, "please tell me I'm doing good Noona", and he'd also be as spoiled as always "can I cum inside please? Please, please, I've been doing so good in school, please give me my prize", and how could you say no to that sweet face, anything for your baby.
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ryomku · 2 months
Text
yellow flowers - kamo choso
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synopsis: “when a person gives you yellow flowers it means they want to stop wasting time and spend their lives together with you”.
tags: choso x reader, fem! reader, fluff, aged up characters, college au!, no curses au!, use of y/n
a/n: i know nothing of nursing nor am i a nurse student or stuff like that so there might be some mistakes on choso´s career, idk it's like 1am and i'm crying
a/n 2: i’m mostly doing this after the leaks of chapter 259 cause i'm still crying and i need something soft in my life right now, this is based on a real experience, sorry if there's any typos english is not my first language
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As someone who has never received flowers their whole life you don't get the appeal of such displays of affection, dads giving flowers to moms, boyfriends giving chocolate to their girlfriends, you just didn't see the need for such things.
In your eyes this was something unnecessary and silly, your parents never showed affection towards each other, in reality the only interactions they had were arguments which always occurred very early in the morning, at the hours where everyone is meant to be asleep and that you couldn't help but overhear.
Since they always talked about you and your problems that don't really exist, they were just looking for an excuse to say what they really think about each other.
As time went by you just didn't pay attention to any of those things, you had a very neutral opinion about flower giving, yet there were people who said, “You're a pretty girl. How come you've never received flowers before?” Genuinely you didn't know what to answer since you don't have low self-esteem and you love yourself the way you are because there's nothing wrong with the way you look or feel, so it was something that could not be answered.
Yet on valentine's day one of your friends gave you and your girl friends some plastic roses as a token of appreciation and it genuinely surprised you because for many years (or your entire life) you've never received gifts on valentine's, it was a nice gesture you though you thought it might be the last time you get a flower.
You were proven wrong.
On September of last year you met Choso Kamo on the bus you took on the way to college he was a nursing student, more specifically a phlebotomy technician, in your life have you ever seen someone so passionate about their career, the way in which he spoke about every detail regarding his classes it was hypnotizing it drew you in, suddenly you became friends and later one he introduced you to his friend group.
Soon enough it was a new year full of new classes, new teachers and the same friend group that had your back.
Time flies fast they say and suddenly it's March 21st and somehow the entire campus is covered in yellow. Wherever you walked there was people selling bouquets of sunflowers and daisies, girls all dolled up in pretty dresses, guys wasting ridiculous amounts of money on flower bouquets or in plushies it was weird something wasn't adding up.
What festivity happens today? The thought flooded your mind, you felt and looked clueless about the things that were happening around, still there's no time to waste cuz classes start soon.
10:00 am
Luckily the philosophy of education class was a free hour since the teacher didn't show up, there were so many things you can do in a free hour like eating, sleeping or just hanging out with friends and forcefully you had to choose the last one, against your own will.
“Heh Y/N could you come real quick to the cafeteria near the med students building?” Was the message that Yuki sent you a couple minutes ago.
In your way to said building more couples hugging and kissing surrounded the entire campus, it was getting too uncomfortable with how intense some of them were kissing in public.
Upon arriving at the cafeteria you spotted your friends quickly noticing two flower bouquets in front of Choso.
“Those flowers must be for his siblings. Didn't know Yuuji liked flowers so much.”
That's what anyone would think because since you met Choso he always spoke highly and dearly of his brothers, they were his entire life and his reason for becoming a nurse aside from his interest in the career.
Seeing how Choso cares about his siblings is another thing added to the mental list of things you like about him. Is there someone out there who doesn't have a crush on him? Cuz you find that hard to believe, just by feeling the way you felt nervous and the butterflies in your belly would be going crazy every time he talks to you.
Liking Choso was inevitable, like a storm or a hurricane, it was just meant to happen.
Liking Choso was something that involuntarily at this point in your head was always his face, his voice and even the small hugs he gave you every morning upon arriving at college.
Liking Choso was unexpected, you always thought that you might never have someone to like in your life since you didn't want to end up like your parents, living in an unhappy marriage full of arguments and sadness.
Liking Choso makes you feel human.
‘’Hi Y/N! What took you so long?’’ said Yuki as she moved her backpack to give you space to sit down next to her.
‘’Stupid philosophy teacher didn’t even send a message in time and had us waiting like idiots outside of his classroom.’’ You said as you sat down beside your blonde friend.
‘’Y/N here you go.’’ Gojo (your other friend) handed you a package of cookies.
‘’Why are you giving me cookies?’’ As you ask you gave him and Geto (who was handing you a bag of candies) a pointed look.
‘’Just cuz we want to and because you’re a good friend and we appreciate you.’’ Weirded out you accepted the gifts.
As you turned to put the gifts in your bag they drifted off to a conversation with Shoko, Nanami and Haibara though your attention was caught by the flowers displayed on the tablet in front of Choso the curiosity was eating you up.
Somehow Choso was a lot quieter than usual, which is fair enough he is really quiet and only gives his opinion or joins the conversation when he feels like it yet today not only was he quiet, he seemed uncomfortable and it was very clear, his facial expressions gave it away.
Suddenly Yuki stands up and walks behind Choso grabbing his wrist and guiding his hand towards one of the flower bouquets, in unison the rest of your friend group starts laughing while Gojo being the menace he is, starts recording everything.
‘’Come on man we all know you are a coward and if we don’t help you’re never gonna give her the flowers.’’ Said Yuki while laughing and giving you a smirk.
‘’Hold o-on Yuki! I don’t wanna do it with a-all of you here!!’’ Choso started to pull his hand away from the flowers all while his face gained a red hue and stuttered.
You gave all of them a questioning look. Choso was gonna give someone flowers? Did he like someone? If so, who was it? Was it a friend of yours? Or was it someone you don’t know of?
Questions filled your head as a sudden feeling of uneasiness gained a hold of your heart, it was kinda stupid that you thought someone like Choso might like you back, you hated the attitude you had with people, sometimes you would come off as rude or at worst having a potty mouth which you only spoke like that with close friend, Choso being one of them, probably your carefree attitude and shity mouth drove him away or he generally just didn’t like you as a person.
Maybe he never noticed you at all.
It only hurts because you thought he might like you due to the shyness he had around you which you liked a lot, even your friends would tease you both, while it made you giddy inside you never really knew if Choso felt the same way.
Now that you think about it the teasing started with Geto and Haibara saying Choso wanted to take you out to the movies, that never happened, the only reaction you both had was pure laughter.
You were so out of it drowning in your thoughts that you didn’t notice Choso grabbing the flowers and standing in front of you, flowers in hand and a blush on his tattooed face while he handed you the flowers.
‘’These are for you Y/N I hope you like them.’’ He gave you the flowers while looking away.
That made you snap out of it.
Choso, he gave you yellow flowers.
HE GAVE YOU FLOWERS!!
Choso’s face was a poem, truely. You looked so shocked, that he started to question if buying you flowers was a good idea.
Did you not like them?
Were the flowers too simple?
The thought of you rejecting him crossed his head. What was he going to do if you rejected him? It was going to be so embarrassing, he was gonna be rejected in front of the whole cafeteria, that only increased his anxiety.
Suddenly his ears were blessed with your soft laughter, his heart fluttered.
Your beautiful smile, the soft laughter and the cute blush in your cheeks made the anxiety go away, then he saw the most in love look in your eyes. Oh, how he loved your eyes, he could get lost in them for hours.
He felt a pair of arms around his neck in a warm embrace, all he could hear was a soft whisper.
‘’Thank you, Choso.’’
His arms circled around your waist holding you in a gentle hug, his warm hands rubbing circles, he didn’t even notice that he no longer had the flowers in his hands.
‘’Y/N I like you.’’ His smooth and deep voice whispered in your ear, the warmth in your cheeks increased.
‘’I like you too Choso.’’
They say that when a person gives you yellow flowers it means they want to stop wasting time and spend their lives together with you, and Choso knew since the moment he saw you that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you.
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kniveschaudefender · 7 months
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hi !! can you do a gideon graves x male!reader who owns a flowershop? (if you dont do male readers thats ok lol, gn!reader is good too)
Better than Any Boquet
(a Gideon Graves x male flowershop owner! reader)
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EEE MY FIRST REQUEST !! (TYSM ANON IM LITERALLY SO HAPPY ABOUT THIS) ALSO I DO ALL GENDER READERS !! SO MALE READER ISNT A PROBLEM AT ALL !!! ^_^ (ALSO I WILL SAY THAT THIS SUUUUUPER LONG. I DIDNT KNOW HOW TO MAKE IT ANY SHORTER BUT PLS DONT BLAME ME IM BARELY STARTING 🙁 ) BUT I RLLY DO HOPE U ENJOY BC THIS HONESTLY TOOK ME SO LONG TO PUT TOTHER. BUT THANK U AGAIN !!! <3333 (also this isnt proofread so)
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Gideon had been acting..strange lately. The league noticed, his employees noticed, even he noticed ! But, nobody could seem to pinpoint what exactly it was.
He had been going out more, being a little bit less harsh on certain people, and the biggest thing people noticed was the amount of flowers around now. Of course nobody dared to ask, heavens no ! But still, it was strange. It’s not like he was a big fan of the flowers himself, but for some reason he had so many around.
Eventually, it had started as a routine. Day after day he would do the exact same thing ! Saying he needs to go do something ‘important’ out, taking his leave, and ending up in the local flowershop. But why ? Its not like he was there for the flowers, no. He had a better reasons.
He walks in, his mind somewhere else before hearing something that completely snapped him out of it. A simple, “Good morning, Mr, Graves!”
< Thats > what he was here for.
The nice owner, thats what he was here for! How could we forget? How could he forget such a nice boy, the same boy who helps him every day no matter how many questions he asks or how many times he ends up repeating them. He even remembered his name! Not by the fact that he’s THE Gideon Graves, but by the fact that he comes in every day to his shop !
Will he ever admit its for him? Maybe later. But right now? Certainly not ! He can’t lose such a ‘friendship’ with this lovely boy he’s met ! For now, he simply comes in, looking for him at the desk in the front. Asking things such as “How do I take care of these?” or “What type of flowers would go best with this event ?” . Simple things to hide the fact that he’s only there to see him and to hear him talk.
After about an hour of mindless questions and small talk, he comes home, once again with a boquet of flowers in hand. He couldn’t help it ! He HAD to buy flowers every time he’d go in there, or he’d leave feeling a bit bad. So, there he goes, grabbing another empty vase and putting some water in it, then placing the flowers inside.
He sighed, looking around at all the flowers he now had. How long could he keep this up ? How long could he push his feelings for this boy away and just keep going and buying flowers, never making a move?
It honestly didn’t take long, he was running out of room for flowers and was so head over heels he couldn’t help himself anymore.
Though, for the first time he couldn’t help but feel a bit afraid. Would you like him? I mean yeah, he does have quite the name and ego, not to mention the billions he has in cash, but would you really find him attractive? He guessed he’d just have to find out.”
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He spent about a week thinking about this.
Infact, he spent the whole time trying to distract himself, he had forgotten to go to the flowershop. After the week, he had finally decided to go say something. Thats when he remembered. He spent the whole week away from YOUR presence after being there non-stop for a few months!
Now he was really worried. He probably made you sick thinking something must have happened since he stopped coming for a whole week!
So, off he went! Sprinting down the street to the flowershop, holding on to his glasses for life. His plan? Say everything through a letter. He couldnt get himself to say it to your face, no matter how big of an ego he had.
He comes in, pushing the door open, almost falling over as he catches his breath before looking up. And there you were, making direct eye contact with him as you out new fresh flowers in a certain section.
“Mr. Graves! There you are! I was wondering where you’d been.” You say, giving him that same, sweet smile.
“Please..call me Gideon.” He says, closing the door behind him as he comes in entirely. “I have something..a bit more important for you this time.” “Anything! What do you need, Gideon?” He liked how you had listened without a question.
“I need a boquet of roses, the best ones you’ve got, and I need you to put this letter in there. But, I’d like you to read it first.” He says, handing the note to him. “I need these by 5 p.m today, and I’d like for you to write me a reply on the letter of what you think.”
With that he mutters a “Thank you” and runs out quickly, not even giving you a chance to respond.
You stand there, a bit dumbfounded. But, there was no need to go chase him down and question him. It seemed simple enough. So, you grab the roses, picking the best ones as he’d asked. Then, the letter.
You grab the letter, opening it slowly, then is when you get met with something..suprising.
“Sorry about the leave, I couldn’t be here for this. All these visits were never about the flowers, it was about you. I wanted to get closer, but never knew how. I’ve liked you for all these months, and never knew how to truely say it. You were always too kind, and quite the handsome man too, giving me that smile every day I walked in, no matter how clueless I was about anything. Especially the flowers. But you always listened to me. But, I do love you and everything you do a lot. And I would love to have you by my side. Because to me, you’re better than any boquet.”
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badbatchsprincess · 3 months
Text
Heated ~ pt. 1
Pt.1 ~ Pt.2 ~ Pt.3 ~ Pt.4 ~ Pt.5 ~ Pt.6 ~ Pt.7 ~ Pt.8 ~ Pt.9
Masterlist
Summary: This is an ABO Bad batch!Poly x Omega Reader smut with a plot. This takes place as an AU before order 66. Y/N previously served under the 501st before being transferred to Special Forces 99. This is her adventure with these rowdy Alphas in a quickly changing universe.
THIS IS AN ABO AU ABOUT THE BAD BATCH (NO CANON OMEGA!) Due to the unfortunate situation of her name being Omega… Omega the child from the canon series is not going to be apart of this fanfic/porn with a plot. I feel obligated to put this warning in because it makes my skin crawl thinking anyone could make that mistake. 
No warnings for this, just world building... welcome lol.
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─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──
After approximately 90 rotations aboard the Marauder, give or take a few days, you were ready to disembark. 
Tech, of course, calculated the accurate amount of time, but you were running on inner planetary standard time. You were exhausted. Truly and totally exhausted. The battles along the outer rim were beginning to overtake every waking thought, and the war only seemed to be escalating. Even though you were just a medical technician, it seemed like you never had a moment to breathe.
The boys had been sent on one mission after another to the most backwater planets you’d never even heard of. In the beginning of working with Clone Force 99, you were thrilled. 
Tired of being on the front lines with Captain Rex and General Skywalker, you thought this would have been a cakewalk compared to tending to the 501st. (Or as you liked to call them, the most reckless GAR unit in history.) Boy, were you wrong…
Rex assigning you to Clone Force 99 had been one of the most challenging places you think a young medic like yourself could have gone. 
These men, in particular, were a unique kind of reckless, and they always seemed to end up in the craziest situations. 
That didn’t mean you didn’t come to grow fond of them, but as GAR procedure demands, they must return to Coruscant for their quarterly medical examinations, and you were relieved. 
While you didn’t particularly care for the bustle of the high-density planet, you could appreciate not being shot at, chased, or bombed at any given second.
The Marauder also didn’t offer the same level of comfort as the Venator Attack Cruisers you’d become accustomed to staying on for months at a time. But it’s alright, you’ve come to enjoy your time with special force 99. 
For a bunch of chaotic Alphas, they were pleasant company. 
Sergeant Hunter was the leader and a remarkable tracker. You couldn’t help but marvel at his heightened abilities; it was really interesting from a medical standpoint. Tech had the brain capacity of a supercomputer and his ex-arc trooper friend, Echo. You actually had known Echo from your early days serving under the 501st. 
It was nice having him around; he seemed to keep the peace and offered some much-needed familiarity. Then there was Wrecker, the sweetest man-child you’d ever met. He had a love for blowing things up, which you found hilarious, and finally, there was Crosshair. You never really knew where you stood with the man. Echo told you it’s because he’s not used to strangers hanging out with his brothers, but you weren’t quite sure. The Alpha was quiet and calculated. He didn’t miss a thing, not with his heightened reflexes. He never said much to you; he often operated in silence unless it was to piss off Hunter, which seemed to be more often than you realized. 
He, however, treated you indifferently. It was just odd for an Alpha to not acknowledge an Omega. Not to say you needed his attention, it was just different. You speculated it had to do with his genetic mutations; maybe he was too good at focusing on his objective. Omegas hardly phased him.
“You ready, Pip?” Wrecker gave your shoulders a gentle shake. 
You smiled at the nickname. “Yeah Wreck, ugh I just really want a real shower.” You sighed, getting a little impatient. 
The Marauder was waiting for landing clearance while you made quick work stowing away the last few stray supplies. You made notes of all the supplies that had been depleted, which was most of it. You shook your head; you’d be raiding the GAR supply facility before deployment for certain. 
“You and me both,” Hunter snorted and settled down in one of the chairs in the cockpit.
Poor guy, you realized, probably had the worst of it all. Living amongst five sweaty dirty men and one medic had his scent on overdrive. Not to mention the dulled pheromones. Being surrounded by so many alphas, the stench was probably awful for him. 
You, however, being an omega on the smaller side, couldn’t smell much, not with your implant which was due for replacement this quarter. Hunter never mentioned anything to you about smell. You just hoped it wasn’t too much for him with all of your implants thankfully. It never seemed like an issue for him. 
“We’re clear for landing,” Echo chirped from the copilot seat. Everyone came up to the front to strap into the jump seats. Crosshair brought your packed bag up with him and placed it gently under your feet before he took the seat next to you and strapped in. You thanked him, and he gave you a silent nod still chewing on his toothpick. 
Echo and Tech gently landed the Marauder in the GAR main hangar bay and finished up the last cross check before disembarking. Wrecker was kind and offered to carry your duffle filled with your civvies and toiletries. You thanked him and followed him out of the Marauder. Taking a deep breath of fresh air, you smiled at the feeling of real sun on your skin. 
Looking down the steps, you squealed, noticing all of the white and blue plastoid on the other side of the hangar bay. Running at full speed, you nearly tripped over your own feet, flinging yourself at Kix. 
He noticed you last minute and swooped you up into his arms, “Hey Tiny! I didn’t know you were on rotation already?” He picked you up and spun you around before putting you down. Your excitement to see your old unit was overwhelming; you couldn’t help but smile as more of your friends on the 501st ran over to give you a hug or a playful shove.
You missed the way Wrecker gawked at your reaction to the Regs. “Well, she certainly doesn’t do that with us,” Tech noted, watching you rub up against the alphas in a comforting manner, purring under their affection. 
“Fucking Regs,” Crosshair groused. 
Echo remembered how fond you are of the 501st. He remembered when you were a newbie just starting your medical field days bonding with General Tano as teens. He felt a little nostalgic watching you with his vod. He laughed remembering how Ahsoka would scent you before sending you out into the field. They loved you so much. 
Tech noted how comfortable you were with their touch and scenting. Something no one in their unit ever attempted with you. Of course, they were aware of your designation, but they tried their hardest to be respectful. Hunter had made it extremely clear no one was supposed to touch you unless necessary. It had been six months of your service on their unit, and no one has ever gotten this close with you except Wrecker, but it wasn’t anything like that. 
The alpha in Tech was a little upset by this. Why didn’t the omega feel comfortable with them? 
Hunter listened to the way you preened under their attention, and his chest pained a bit hearing your purrs. Was he… jealous? No. That’s his medic, that's all. He had read your file; you’d been with them for most of the war. Of course, that would make you closer. He could smell the happy pheromones you spread from where they were. You were happy with the 501st’s attention; it wasn’t something he knew you craved.
“I’m here for quarterlies,” you tapped your shoulder, “And I’m due for replacement.” You sighed. “Ahh,” Kix smirked, “Difficult enough dealing with us reg alphas huh? Gotta deal with defects now too huh? Got that implant working overtime.” 
You rolled your eyes and shoved him. 
A cough behind you caught your attention. You spun around to see your unit catching up, looking a little perturbed, especially Crosshair. He’s never warmed up to the Regs and didn’t particularly like you sharing your fond stories about them. You usually keep to yourself in his presence or else he’d get a little hostile. 
“Sarge,” Kix greeted with a head tilt. 
“Kix,” Hunter gave him a polite nod, “Captain.” He looked beyond you. 
You spun around, “Rex!” You ran at him, wrapping yourself around your old captain. “Hey kid,” he laughed, giving you a pat on the head looking down at you.
 “I’m older than you, Captain,” you rolled your eyes with a smile. 
“So you like to remind me,” he laughed, suddenly realizing how much he had missed you. 
You stepped back with a huge smile. Suddenly everything was starting to feel good again. 90 rotations didn’t seem so terrible anymore. You giggled as they all filed in demanding to know how you’ve been.
 “We’re heading to 79’s later,” Jesse smiled, “You gotta come Y/N. I wanna hear about your adventures to the outer rim.” 
“Especially me,” Fives trotted forwards shoving you playfully aside before embracing his brother Echo, “Vod!” He hugged Echo tight. Echo relaxed into his hug and gave him a curt smile. “How you doing?” Fives asked, wrapping his arm around Echo’s shoulder before walking off with him towards the barracks to no doubt catch up. 
“I got a replacement due,” you sighed, “I can’t drink but I’ll stop by for a bit to catch up!” 
They all seemed to light up at that, “See you there, kid!” Captain Rex gave you a nod and turned on his heel to get back to work and make sure the General’s Venator was getting proper maintenance. 
“C’mon, Pip,” Hunter was leading the others towards the medical campus for their quarterlies. 
You huffed, “Coming, Sarge.” 
“Pip?” You heard the others laugh a bit at your new nickname when you trailed off behind your new unit. Damn their long legs you were struggling to hold pace with them. 
Crosshair gave you an incredulous look watching you try to catch up. You gave it right back to him. 
“Miss your precious Regs?” He sneered. You didn’t miss the way Tech’s shoulders stiffened. Wrecker and Hunter pretended not to hear, but you knew they did. You suddenly missed having Echo as your defense. 
“What?” You looked at him. 
“You heard me,” he growled. 
“Of course I missed my old unit. I haven’t seen them in six standard months, Crosshair.” 
“That all?” He was cold. 
“What is that supposed to mean?” You stopped and crossed your arms forcing him to stop walking. 
Crosshair pointed his toothpick at you, “Throwing yourself at a bunch of alphas like a bitch in hea-”
 “Enough!” Hunter growled. 
Your cheeks burned red. How dare he. You looked to Wrecker and then Tech but the looks on their faces didn’t exactly show any support for you. Did they agree?…Maker. Wrecker lowered his gaze which surprised you the most. 
Crosshair never really said much to you besides if you asked him an immediate question about his health or an injury. He usually somewhat avoided you. But you never thought he disliked you, at least up until now. The disgust was obvious on his face. 
You just shook your head and continued stalking towards the medical campus, ignoring Hunter’s call. Your shore-leave was becoming more and more desirable by the second. You wanted space especially from Mr. dark and gloomy. 
Deciding you’ve had enough of them, you detoured for your department entrance leaving them to go into the main medical campus alone. You knew Tech had all of your reports stowed on his datapad records. They would survive without you at least for now. You thought you heard Wrecker whimper behind you, but the sound of ion engines priming drowned out the rest before you stepped inside the medic clinic. Fuck Crosshair. What a dickhead.
You shook your head knowing you had other things to focus on besides his stupid little attitude. 
Passing through multiple security clearances, you stepped into the sterile clinic’s main lobby. 
“Medic Y/L/N?” You heard a familiar soft voice. 
“Hi Layla.” You smiled sweetly at the nurse who you came to know during your training program. Being an omega, she opted to stay on base instead of venturing out into the battle fronts she was definitely more gentle mannered than yourself. You preferred some action and excitement. 
“In for your quarterly’s?”
"Yeah, and I need a new replacement implant," you muttered as you trailed behind Layla toward one of the deserted exam rooms. The clinical white walls felt suffocating, a stark contrast to the chaotic memories you shared here. You reminisced about your early days serving the GAR, where Layla and you tended to wounded soldiers and even brushed shoulders with the occasional Jedi. But that was before you were transferred to General Skywalker’s unit, thrust into the heart of battle and endless repairs for him and his Padawan. You missed the simplicity of those days, the camaraderie with Layla.
”How’s the 501st treating you?" Layla's voice broke through your reverie as she handed you a crumpled paper gown.
"I got transferred to Special Forces 99," you replied, shedding your uniform behind the flimsy curtain. "They’re a different breed, that's for sure."
"Clone Force 99?" Layla's eyebrows rose in curiosity.
“Yeah.” you confirmed, feeling a flicker of amusement at her reaction.
As Layla chewed on her pen, a mischievous glint danced in her eyes. "The Sergeant’s pretty hot."
Your cheeks flushed, and you nearly stumbled over your words before recovering. “Layla…” You gawked.
She giggled and sat down on her roller stool. "Don’t lie and say you’ve never thought about it."
Well, obviously you’ve thought about it. They’re all honestly pretty hot, but you’d never admit that out loud.
"Now where have you seen Hunter like that?" you giggled at her cheekiness.
"I watch the holonet streams every once in a while. Especially after the retrieval on Skako Minor, General Skywalker and Sergeant CT-9901 were all over the holonet for weeks," she mused. "An omega’s wet dream."
You screamed and threw your boot at her. You two looked at each other momentarily before bursting out into a fit of laughter. Man, you missed Layla. Honestly, you just missed having another girl to talk to. This was such a refresher from the overwhelming amount of Alpha.
You hopped up on the table, lying down, trying to get comfortable.
"What’s he like?" her tone shifted into mischief.
You hesitated, memories of Hunter flooding your mind. "He’s… different. Polite, I guess."
Layla raised an eyebrow, her expression demanding the truth. “Girl…” she slapped your shoulder, grabbing her scanner to document your entire system from head to toe.
"Well, I don’t know!" you put your hands up in defense. "He’s quite the gentleman. None of them so much as look, Layla, I swear."
She just looked at you with a raised brow while she continued her work, “Yeah right.”
"But…" you smirked, watching her work, "I do know the tattoos go to his feet…" you bit your lip.
Now it was her turn to choke. "You’re lying…" Her interest was piqued.
You shook your head. "Full skeleton all the way down his arm, ribs, thigh…"
You two sighed.
She finished her scan and input the data before sliding her roller chair right next to you. "Everywhere?"
You raised a brow. "Everywhere," you confirmed with a nod.
She put her hand over her chest in a dramatic manner before prepping the numbing agent for your implant.
You remembered the day you found out this information about your Sergeant. Up until this point, you’d only seen maybe an arm or some knuckles in your medical repairs, but this time Hunter had taken a pretty bad hit to his side and thigh. Multiple blaster wounds had torn him up, and Tech had helped him limp back to the ship before they both collapsed on the floor. You had flung yourself out of your bunk at the commotion only to realize what had happened.
Tech helped you tear off Hunter’s armor and helmet, trying to figure out where the wounds were. Luckily, they hadn’t gone through, and it was mostly just surface wounds, but you still had to cut through his blacks to get to it, leaving his entire left side exposed. He had growled at you, but Tech had set him straight. He was just in pain.
That’s when you realized his entire left side was tattooed like his face, all the way down to his feet. You mumbled a quick apology before starting your cleaning process and bacta application.
The wounds had healed up nicely, but he had to re-tattoo the fresh skin the next time they had shore-leave. You had also stowed away the information of how muscular he was. The man was truly a work of art.
A sharp jab snapped you out of your memories when Layla removed the old suppressor implant. You yelped when the new one went in, making you a bit dizzy with pain. You hissed when she retracted the mechanism.
"There we go," she beamed. "Good as new."
"Thanks, Layla," you said, sitting up, letting her bandage the small incision wound with a bacta patch. The soothing coldness was immediate. You sighed in relief as the pain dulled.
"I told Rex I’d be at 79’s later, if you want to come?" you offered, slipping from the table to give her a hug.
"As much as I’d love to play with the captain, I have so much work to catch up on for quarterly's. I better stay here," she sighed, pushing her chair back into place. "But you have fun, and enjoy your time off. Come back to visit if you get bored."
You giggled. "I will." And with that, she left you to change back into your uniform before leaving the medic’s clinic. The hangar bay was significantly more empty now as you made your way over to civilian transport. After exiting the security checkpoint, you made your way over to the clone transport. "Can you take me to residential?" you asked the officer in the pilot’s seat. He gave you a nod, and you settled back into the transport’s seats. With a sigh, you were finally starting to relax a bit. You knew the boys were probably already back at their barracks after their examinations, so you knew they wouldn’t be bothering you for at least a few rotations.
When you finally arrived to the GAR residential building you gave the driver a thanks before hoping out and skipping over to the front door. You couldn’t wait to get to your quarters and enjoy a long hot shower. Swiping your clearance card, you dashed into the elevator to your floor and into your room. It smelled like you needed to open a window but other then that is was just as you left it. Knowing you’d have to get some food delivered, you gave a dramatic sigh while kicking off your regulation boots. You went to unzip your uniform top when you heard the swish of clothing and a familiar scoff. 
You turned suddenly seeing Crosshair standing in your kitchen in his civvies looking tall and menacing. 
“Maker! Crosshair!” You put a hand on your chest, “You scared me!” 
“Sorry little one.” He didn’t sound sorry at all. 
You looked around suddenly remembering you’re in YOUR apartment. 
“What the hell are you doing here Crosshair?” You narrowed your gaze at him getting mad all over again. 
“Hunter is making me apologize for earlier.” He grumbled around his toothpick. 
You hummed, “How did you get in here?” 
He held up the Sergeant’s entry card. Of course… dammit Hunter.
“Here.” He slid your duffle across the floor to you. A peace offering. You were grateful for that at least. 
A deep pang in your shoulder made you grimace “Thanks.” You unzipped your uniform top leaving you in your bindings not caring if he looked. He didn’t seem phased anyways. The bacta patch stained red with your blood. He narrowed his eyes to the incision. You knelt down to your duffle and pulled out your field kit. You grabbed a dose of pain killer and brought the injector up to the wound site. You pressed the mechanism and the needle stabbed you quickly injecting the medicine. You rolled your shoulder and replaced the bacta patch seeing the wound turning to a simple line. Soon it would be gone in a few hours. 
“So?” You looked at the tall sniper. 
He lifted a brow. 
You crossed your arms, “Your apology?” 
He snorted and stood up straight before walking past you. 
“Sorry.” He mumbled before stepping back out into the hallway and disappearing. 
You sighed knowing that was all you’re going to get from the grumpy soldier. Whatever, you’d take it. 
~~~
The shower that followed was worth it. You had never felt so clean in your few years in this universe. The piping hot water cleansed you of three standard months of sweat, bomb residue, and blood. You scrubbed and scrubbed until your skin flared red before you stepped out of the shower to get ready. Throwing on your favorite civvies and some makeup, you quickly dried your hair before throwing on your regulation boots. Grabbing your com and a few credits. You practically skipped out of your apartment making a beeline for 79’s. You couldn’t wait to catch up with your old friends.
When you arrived, you heard an uproar of men yelling your name. You looked over to see Fives, Jesse, Kix, and the others wave you over. 
“Tiny!” You got tackled by Fives. He put you in a headlock and ruffled your hair despite your cries. You shoved him off of you knowing he must have scented you in the process. 
“Ugh! Fives you reek.” You scrunched your nose smelling the alpha on him it was stronger then usual.
“Sorry tiny.” He laughed rubbing the back of his neck, “We gotta get our implants replaced too.” 
You shook your head and plopped down in the booth next to Kix with a laugh. He shoved the snack plate in your face continuing his conversation with another soldier to his right. You were starving and started munching down on the mantell mix.
“Hope that wont be a problem kid.” Rex smiled at you. 
You just yanked your collar down to show them the patch, “All good captain.” 
That made them relax. The 501st is many things, but they were always chivalrous towards you. Being their favorite omega and all, they had always taken a very protective stance with you. None of them tried anything and they had always kept away the creeps. You were thankful for their protection. 
Your current hoard of alphas though, you didn’t really know where you stood with them. They kind of pretended like you weren’t there. You quickly realized they weren’t used to working with strangers, and an omega of all things. At first they treated you like a fragile little thing. Like they were worried they’d step on you. They couldn’t help but stare. You didn’t really blame them. Eventually it wore off and they seemed to become a bit more comfortable with your presence. Until it became normal. Except Crosshair, he never seemed to warm up to you and kept you at arms length. 
“So how’s your new unit?” Fives asked sounding a bit jealous. 
You giggled, “They’re.. nice.” 
They all looked at you. 
“What?” You shrunk under their looks. Even Rex stared. 
“Nice?” Jesse laughed. 
“That’s not exactly the word I’d use.” Rex raised a brow, “You’re okay, right kid?” 
You opened your mouth in shock, “Guys I’m okay. I swear.”
They visibly relaxed. 
“Look, it took some getting used to. I don’t think they’ve ever been around strangers before they’re very close. Clearly. Eventually they warmed up. Except the sniper. I think he might actually not like me.” 
Fives just scoffed, “It’s because your’e hot cyar’ika”
Jesse punched him in the stomach. Fives doubled over and everyone at the table grumbled at him. You just felt your cheeks burn up and you hid behind Kix’s shoulder. 
“Fives…” Rex sighed. 
“What?” He choked out, “I’m just saying. I don’t think those defects have been anywhere near a woman much less an omega. Aye!” He blocked Jesse’s punch again. 
“What omega?” You heard a gruff voice approach. 
It was Commander Wolffe and the pack still in uniform. Rex got up and clapped him on the shoulder getting him settled in. He placed his helmet on the table and peered over at you. 
“I don’t think we’ve met cyar’ika.” He grinned at you showing off his scar and grey iris. 
You felt your heart rate increase under his intense stare. You could tell this alpha was seasoned, first generation from the looks of him. You were certain that if you didn’t have your implant, you'd be keening for his attention. Instead, you submissively lowered your gaze and leaned into Kix a bit. He wrapped an arm around you and looked up at the Commander, saying, “This is Y/N; we call her Tiny.” He shook you playfully, adding, “She used to be our medic. Now she’s with the 99’s.”
Wolffe let out a low whistle. “The 99’s? Must be exciting. Nice to meet you, Y/N,” he said, extending a hand, which you took, giving it a good shake. His calloused fingers lingered a bit as he ran them over your soft knuckles.
Looking up at him from beneath your lashes, you said, “Nice to meet you, Commander,” giving him a polite smile.
He smiled back, clearly pleased with your attention. Oh, he liked you, you thought to yourself. He then gently released your hand and turned to his men. “Let’s get a round of drinks. We’re off for quarterly’s!”
His men let out a whooping shout, and the waitress took down their orders. The pack quickly became rowdy, opting for roughhousing with each other and the shinies. After a long while of dodging his gaze and eating the food Kix placed in front of you, you decided you needed a cold glass of water and squeezed out from under Kix’s arm. The stench of so many alphas was starting to become too much, even with the implant. You were praying they couldn’t smell the nervousness on you.
Walking up to the bar, the woman smiled at you. She recognized you, as you usually spent your time with the boys when you were off. She gave you a little wave and bounced over, asking what you wanted.
“Just water for me,” you smiled. She smiled back and went to fill up your glass.
“What’s a pretty little omega doing in a place like this?” a shiny walked up to you, placing himself uncomfortably close to your back. You turned, facing him square on. Despite all clones being created as alphas, this one was young and stupid. Your omega instincts told you he’d be a weak mate. You noticed the lack of markings and scratches on his armor. He’s barely seen anything, you realized.
“I’m here with my friends,” you replied curtly, taking the glass of ice water from the bartender with a nod. You went to move away, but he caught your arm in a tight grip. Not tight enough to hurt, but tight enough to assert his dominance and stop you from leaving. You just looked at his hand and then up to his face.
“I wasn’t done with you… omega,” he leered, leaning forward to run his nose closer to your scent glands. Your heart rate increased for all the wrong reasons. Fear started to creep up inside you the longer he had his hands on you. Now you wished Fives had scented you for real. 
“Why are you messing with my medic?” 
You stiffened. 
Hunter’s smokey voice cut through the music of the club making your entire spine tingle. Hunter had used his Alpha tone making you tremble in spot. The shiny suddenly looked up eyes going wide. He quickly released you and saluted Hunter.“Sorry Seargant. I didn’t know she was yours.” 
“Hmm” Hunter dismissed him and grabbed you by the same arm the shiny had just moments ago, except this time the touch didn’t feel dangerous. Instead it made your stomach flip. He’d never touched you unless it was for medical purposes. You couldn’t help the little preen inside you bubbling up. Alpha Protects. He lead you past the shiny and over to an empty booth in the back of the club. You could hear Layla’s voice ringing in your head. She’d be eating this up right now. You prayed your pheromones didn’t give you away.
He finally let you go when you reached the booth waiting for you to slide in. You immediately missed the warmth of his bare hand. You realized they were all in their civvies, well except tech, he still had his helmet near by. The rest of them slid into the booth following suit. 
“She’s smells like Regs.” Wrecker crinkled his nose. Between, Fives, Kix, and the shiny you knew you reeked.
“Sorry.” You mumbled taking a sip of your water still a little pissed with them.
“You okay pip?” Hunter asked looking you in the eyes. You suddenly shied away from his gaze looking down at his shirt collar nodding. His eyes were too intense. You usually didn’t have a problem, but you were still trebling from the effects of his voice lingering. 
“Did something happen?” Tech asked from around Hunter’s shoulder. 
“I’m alright. Just a dumb shiny.” You felt like you were being suffocated by their stares. 
They laughed a bit at that. 
“Okay, I can’t take it anymore.” Wrecker shoved you under his arm and rubbed his scent all over you. You coughed and sputtered trying to shove him away but it was no use. Crosshair rolled his eyes.
“Alright Wrecker enough.” Hunter sighed looking down at you drowning in alpha, “She’s covered.” 
“Ugh.” You tried to straightening out your hair and top a bit, “Easy next time big guy. I think every alpha for a mile can smell me now.” 
He just gleamed. You couldn’t help but be a bit grateful. It seems like everyone was due for an updated implant. The smells were getting to be out of control. No one would come near you now. Even the rough housing seemed to be a little aggressive than usual. They had asked you about the wolf pack but you just shrugged watching their rough housing turn into full on brawls.
The boys continued talking about something random that Tech had info dumped about and Wrecker of course was confused. You continued to sip on your ice water before you heard your name being called. You popped your head up from the booth to find Fives looking for you. You sighed and put your cup down. Part of you didn’t want to go back because of the attention the commander was giving you, but the other part of you wanted to spend some time with Rex and the boys. Damn these alphas. 
Opting to stay where you were, Fives and the boys decided to come over towards you. Knowing this was probably going to go badly, you shrunk into the booth. Hunter eyed you before he heard Crosshair snarl. A large group of Regs came trotting over to come socialize like a bunch of drunk pups. They all pulled up chairs and surrounded the booth with their rambunctiousness. 
“Where’d you go Tiny?” Jesse was sloshed. Leaning over Fives who was barely holding himself together. 
“Tiny, did you see the way the commander was looking at you?” Fives shoved Jesse off of him, “I think he’s trying to-” he jiggled his brows suggestively at you and you just shook your head and wanted to melt into the table. Please not this. Not with my commanding officer present. Not my very hot commanding officer present. You wanted to slap Layla why did she have to start putting these thoughts into your head. 
“Commander Wolffe?” Tech asked for clarification. 
Fives just nodded taking another big sip from his cup.
“Someone shoot me.” You covered your face you were too sober for this conversation. You could feel Crosshairs smirk from across the table.
“Awh pip.” Wrecker just grabbed you again and shook you around, “The Commander thinks you’re prettyyyy.” 
Fives and Jesse giggled. Hunter and the others just looked uncomfortable. Obviously they weren’t the most social, nor playful. This was just embarrassing. Your only comfort was Wrecker. He was always the nicest anyways. You just tucked yourself into his side forgetting his betrayal earlier. 
“The Commander wants to rut with Y/N?” Tech asked. 
“Maker.” You wanted to dissipate into thin air.
“Mhmm.” Jesse and Fives nodded with cheesy grins, “she gave him the eyes.” 
You scoffed, “I did not!” 
“Yeah you did!” Fives giggles. He then looked at Jesse and re-enacted the whole scene dramatically, “It’s nice to meet you commander.” He fluttered his eyelashes at Jesse and held his hand. You groaned and put your head down on the table. 
“I need a drink.” You whimpered not able to take the teasing.
“Is that wise?” Tech chimed in, “You just had your implant replaced. It’s advised to not drink for the first 24 hours or else it may be ineffective.” 
“Kriff.” You sighed. 
“And that’s my cue to come rescue Tiny.” Kix interjected and yanked you up from the booth taking you far away from this painfully awkward conversation. You thanked him profusely letting him guide you.
“You’re nervous when you’re sober.” He laughed walking over to the dance floor with you. 
“I’m nervous because of my Sergeant.” You whisper in his ear. He just gives you a questionable look. You laugh and shake your head, “A friend of mine said something today and I can’t get it out of my stupid omega head.” 
“Oh?” He raised a brow dancing to the beat. 
“Shut up.” You laughed praying Hunter couldn’t hear you over the yelling and music, “They also don’t like the “Regs,” you shook your head. 
“Well I know why.” He replied spinning you around. 
“Why?” You asked swaying to the beat. 
“Everyone was so mean to them growing up. Kids are horrible you know. But because they’re different they definitely dealt with a lot during training days.” Kix informed you. Suddenly everything made sense. Especially why Crosshair can’t seem to socialize with Regs to save his life. 
“Plus, the Captain decked the sniper on Skako Minor.” Kix said cheekily. 
You dropped your jaw, “Rex?” You couldn’t believe it. There’s no way level headed Rex lost it with Crosshair.
“Oh yeah.” He laughed, “They got into it while trying to find Echo.” 
“No way.” You couldn’t believe it. While dancing you peered over at the table to find the four 99’s watching you completely ignoring the drunk shenanigans from the 501st boys. The only one interacting was Echo. You could tell there was a part of him that missed his brothers. They continued to drink and talk amongst themselves while you and Kix danced on the floor. Some of the other 501st boys joined you before linking up with pretty omegas vying for their attention. Clearly their interests were else where.
You definitely didn’t miss the way the Commander seemed to be unable to take his eyes off of you from his chair. You chose to ignore him. 
An alpha like that could send you into heat with or without an implant. You however had a job to do, and being stuck in his bed for a week wouldn’t suffice. The mortification of even thinking about returning to the Marauder after that. You couldn’t even go there. Crosshair would literally never let you hear the end of it. He might shove you out of the airlock when you weren’t expecting it. 
Kix seemed to be reading your mind and elected to giggle. You slapped him on the arm and he feigned injury. Just then, you noticed the Commander stand and seemingly decide to come your way. Feeling there to flee, you quickly hugged Kix and made a dart for the door. Grabbing your comm you let the boys know you’d be returning to your apartment but to your dismay, Hunter replied…
“Don’t bother we just got special orders. We’re shipping out tonight.” He sounded tired. So much for shore-leave.
“Ugh.” You whined turning to the taxi waiting by the club entrance. You put your comm away in your pocket and fished around for a few credits ignoring the way the cool evening air chilled your skin.
“Something wrong Cyar’ika?” The gruff voice you were dreading came from behind you. Damn your omega tendencies. You turned keeping your eyes lowered. 
“Everything is alright Commander.” You replied sweetly, “I just got informed my break has been cut short. We ship out again tonight.” 
He sighed stepping forwards and placed his pointer finger under your chin to tilt your head up. You nearly whimpered looking into his scarred eye. Alpha’s strong. Alpha likes you. Alpha smells good. Really good. You wanted to whine when his eye zeroed in on yours. He wanted your eyes on him that was for certain. Maybe a breakout heat with the Commander wouldn’t be too bad…
“Well if you ever need anything you let me know, yeah?” The Commander smiled wolfishly at you and released you. You took a deep breath and took a step back and nodded your head. 
“Y/N?” You heard Tech’s call come to your rescue, “Do you need a ride?” 
You grabbed your comm and quickly responded with shaking hands, “Yeah that would be nice thank you Tech.” 
It wasn’t long until their speeder arrived and you turned back to the Commander who had no issue walking you over to your unit. You could tell by Hunter skeptical glance that he was trying to figure out the situation. The Commander passed you over to your men and have you a nod before putting his helmet back on and walking back into the club. 
“What was that about?” Hunter asked with a raised brow. 
“I really don’t want to talk about it.” You shook your head and practically dove into the speeder. 
“Did the Commander proposition you?” Tech asked pushing his glasses back up. 
You squeaked and hid in the backseat. 
“Stop bothering her.” Echo shook his head. Thank the maker for Echo. 
“It was a harmless question.” Tech justified, “As we were talking about his strange attentions earlier and Y/N’s even more unordinary response according to the Regs.” 
You looked out the window of the speeder at the endless city below, “I’m going to jump.” You half joked. 
“Tech please drop it.” Echo implored, “You’re making her uncomfortable… and me.” 
“It’s just biological responses.” Tech grumbled into his data pad, “Nothing to be embarrassed about.” 
You sighed. This was going to be another long mission, and then you were going to take it upon yourself to insure you got a vacation. Hopefully there was something Rex could do to get you some time off for real this time far away from all of these men. 
─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──
This part one, I'll be posting regularly to this story, I hope y'all enjoy!
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elaemae · 5 months
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The premium version of human is here to wreck house, mfs.
[Twst x Obey Me!AFAB!reader]
CHP.3
CW: Same as before.
PREVIOUS CHAPTER: PROLOGUE 2
FUN FACT: You were just about to remove your unbelievable amount of jewelry and go to sleep when the dark carriage appeared in the middle of your room.
You didn't notice because you were busy tryna reach for your bangles but then you were suddenly yanked by the hair into the carriage where you quickly lost consciousness from the strong sleeping magic inside. That horse got no chill, wtf..
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This is one of those times where you need to channel out your inner Belphegor.
Be loveably infuriatingly bratty and murderous at the same time.
Turns out, you were yanked by the hair and shoved into the carriage by that creepy looking horse because you were "chosen" by the dark mirror to attend their oh-so-prestigious college. (Move out the way Harry Potter, there's a new chosen one in town—)
So you decided to stress these fuckers into bringing you back to where their unhinged horse first took you.
You don't have to be a genius to know that if any of the brothers notice your disappearance, there can either be a war or a bloodbath. It's either one of those things or both of them.
So as you were freed and guided in front of the mirror by the bird-man who you've come to find out was the headmaster of this oh-so-grand college that you've never even heard of.. you side-eye the Mr. Boutta-sell-yo-kidneys guy that tried to take your bangles before you faced the mirror.
'...Hmm? Who's this?' You think, as you look at the person half-hiding behind the mirror.
They seemed to be quite nervous as they gave you a small wave, earning them a smile from you.
The headmaster seemed to be confused about them for a second but quickly remembered something as they called upon that person.
It seems that Yuu, quite a confusing name they've got also desires to be sent back to their home as they said they had responsibilities they must fulfill.
Nice.
Twinning with your problems fr.
It's like you two looked at each other and something just clicked.
Like, Omg we're both kidnapped by a school filled with hot men and forced to be their unpaid therapists, Slay gurly~ 💅🏼 sry it's your inner asmo talking.
You decide to let Yuu be the first to face the mirror so that they'll get home first.
Ah, aren't you so kind and patient?
You don't know anything about that mirror, so it's best that you let someone else have a go first to see if it's safe.
Sorry Yuu, we may have clicked but I don't know if I can trust any of you right now.
It's too risky.
If we ever meet again, I'll treat you to a meal in hell's kitchen as compensation.
Thank Belphie for my trust issues.
...
...Huh.. The place that Yuu belongs to "doesn't exist"?
What a strange response... This damn mirror better not give you the same words lest it wants to be melted out of existence via hellfire.
You can see the dudes behind y'all who turned out to be the housewardens of the dorms of this school start whispering to each other like some nosy aunties on a regular sunday morning.
You gave reassuring pats on Yuu's shoulder after they went back beside you, getting a shaky smile in return.
"I'm sure that it'll be okay.. Their dark carriage took you so it must have the capabilities to take you back, right?" You whispered to Yuu, trying to keep them from panicking as you notice their breaths starting to quicken.
"People in distress are prone to being exploited and manipulated by others. Breathe slowly and calm your mind." You lean closer to their ear, rubbing small circles on their back.
Panicking won't help anyone. You had to learn that from experience. Now you just want to make sure that Yuu doesn't have to.
You may be alright with using this new acquaintance of yours to verify the safety of the mirror, but you won't stand by and watch them expose their vulnerability to a group of people that haven't really made a show of good morals they might possess.
As the headmaster guy started going on a rant about how "tHiS hAvE nEvEr hApPenEd bEfoRe" you keep an eye on the five housewardens dudes, seeing as those guys were eyeing you and Yuu lmao💀 like they were looking at some weird... thing.
Except for the shady mf who's looking straight at you with his weird-ass smile.
Really giving you the impulse to sock him in the face again.
(Oh, and also that tablet that kept taking pictures of you thinking that they were slick when you can hear the click every time a pic was taken.)
The headmaster then guided you to the mirror, mumbling pleas for the reflective object to work properly.
"I... I seem to be unable to reach the place that you call home.."
The mirror spoke, troubled and seemingly confused.
Yuu peeks at your face, before paling and trying to get closer to comfort you the way that you did for them, only to full on try to tackle you when you bring out your staff to try and break the damned thing.
If you can't bring me home then maybe I can take your power and do it myself.
MEANWHILE...
"There are traces of what seems to be teleportation magic as well as a smidgen of sleeping magic mixed in, on center of MC's room."
Solomon stated, glancing at the people sitting around the big oval table inside Diavolo's castle.
If anyone else saw the attendance in this little meeting of theirs, they'd have a heart attack.
I mean, when will you ever see representatives of the celestial realm mingling with those of the devildom, the human world and the grim reaper in such a serious manner?
You'd think there's an intergalactic threat on the loose if you ever see their expressions..
But that's the thing.
You weren't there to see them.
That's the problem.
Someone or something took you away from them.
Those connected to you via pact can still feel your emotions and connections through your pact marks but nothing more.
At this rate, they worry that you're too far to reach because they couldn't get to you through their pacts. Where could you be?
The only reassurance they have that you're fine, is your candle in Thirteen's hands.
The last string of reason they have that is keeping them from drowning in their grief and anger.
The burning flame of your candle gave them comfort and fueled their determination to bring you back into their arms.
Don't worry MC, we'll bring you back.
No matter what it takes.
← Pr. 2 | Chapter List | Pr. 4 →
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I'm tryna sketch my MC, but it's taking a long-ass time.
Elae: Hope y'all enjoyed this chapter y'all😊
Don't forget to like, comment, and reblog guys, it really helps me out :3
See y'all next time~
(still tryna figure out tagging)
@leviathans-tail-scales
@f0uerleafedcl0ver
@a-traveling-void-human
@pumafiredraw
@lunasakuravalentine
I tried to tag all of y'all but it won't work for some reason :c
250 notes · View notes
fiendishfables · 5 months
Note
Can you make a top Lute x fem reader nsfw?
a/n: I most certainly can; love my girl Lute. Definitely going to try and write some more for her in the future. Enjoy!
warnings: nsfw, fingering, eating out, cursing, Adam being a funny lil' guy, mention(s) of killing
words: 1.5k+
characters: 8624
additional notes: thanks for 20+ followers, y'all! More fics are on the way; requests are always open!
format: Oneshot
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"L-Lute!~"
"Tsk. Stay still, brat."
Your girlfriend had just come back from the usual annual extermination. Being an exorcist angel under Adams command was quite stressful, as she often took it upon herself to make known to you. Having her come back to you all irritable and angry was a normal occurrence on many days, but she did have her good days in between.
But, you'd have to admit that you liked getting to be subjected to Lute's bitter attitude sometimes.
Especially if those times happened to turn out like this one.
Lute currently had her hands purchased on the plush, supple flesh of your thighs, using her very evident strength to keep them apart from one another; keeping you exposed to her. Your legs would never be closed for as long as she had her head between them. Crush her skull all you like. She was determined to get what she deserved; claim what was rightfully hers.
Her tongue lapped at your sopping folds, nose just barley bumping your clit to provide that extra shock of pleasure. You had your fingers tangled in her short, silver hair, which she would normally scold you for, claiming it took her forever to get it to look so nice. This time though, she says nothing, as she knows you're only doing it due to the immense amounts of pleasure she is causing you to feel, the euphoria swirling throughout your body like a rapid whirlpool, ready to suck you into its deep, dark depths. Never to be seen again.
Your heavy breathing mixed with the sounds of her tongue in and around your pussy; the pace of her skillful tongue bringing you spiraling towards the edge. It was all so pleasurable, yet beautiful.
One of her hands moved upwards to your lower stomach, applying gentle force to keep your hips from bucking upward towards her mouth in an attempt to get more friction. Her tongue delved even deeper into you as she got a soft moan in response to her dominating action, exploring every spongey wall, every sensitive nerve.
Every damn place her tongue could reach in order to mark you as hers.
The shaking of your thighs, the heat of your breath, all must have been a sign for Lute to switch tactics. She never let you get off that easy. She wanted, needed, to have her fun with you; her little angel.
As she lifted her head from between your legs, your own slick covering her lips, you could've mewled. As the cold air now hit your pussy lips, it made you miss her skilled tongue almost immediately. It took most of your will power to refrain from pulling her back to you and pushing her head back down between your thighs where you both knew it rightfully belonged.
But that wasn't how things like this worked.
At least not with Lute.
She had taught you that patience was a very valuable virtue when it came to getting what you wanted. Especially if you wanted that specific something from her.
"Good girl. Seems like you can learn after all."
Lute spoke surprisingly soft, even with that smirk still playing on her face. The same smirk she always adorned whenever she knew she had denied you that sweet release; the one she had been helping to build for the past half-hour now.
At this point, you were surprised that Adam hadn't come busting into the room looking for his lieutenant. Lord, it was a miracle in itself that the two of you had managed to get this much time to yourself without the fucker interrupting you. The amount of times he had walked in on you, either with Lute's face between your thighs, or her fucking the living daylights out of you with a strap on.
Adam being Adam, he had tried multiple times to try and convince Lute to let him stay and watch, or even join in on the action.
Not surprisingly, he had failed each of those times and often left with a new bruise added to his face; the result of Lute blasting him with a beam of light and cursing at him, yelling at him to leave before she got up and made him leave.
The threat usually worked, because neither one of you wanted to know what that would look like.
You were instantly snapped out of your thoughts, feeling Lute's nimble fingers now rubbing heavily pressured circles onto your clit, sending rakes of pleasure running up your spine. A choked moan left your lips as she then proceeded to add a finger, then two, into your gaping hole, so eagerly sucking her digits in.
"Such a tight little pussy you got, babe." She cooed, fingers picking up their pace, movements becoming relentless in their pursuit of making you cum.
"Nice to know you haven't been touching yourself whenever I'm out for the evening. All because you know I'm the only one who can make you feel like this, huh?"
You only gave a weak nod in response, stars and spots beginning to fill your vision. It felt like the whole room was spinning around you.
"Y-yes, Lute. Fuck, yes. Only y-you."
Your voice sounded almost hoarse, as if you had been screaming to your hearts content only hours prior. But your mind was quickly put back on track as your girlfriends nimble fingers sped up their pace, both on your clitoris and inside, pumping those digits vigorously in and out of you in a steady pattern that had you on cloud nine.
Before you had time to fathom anything currently ongoing, you let loose a strangled cry of pure bliss from your throat, as Lute let her fingers continue to fuck you through your orgasm.
Your entire body seemed to go through a series of tremors, showing the real effect Lute's fingers had been having on you. Your thighs shook; your chest rapidly rose and fell.
It was like a whole new heaven.
Once you had calmed down a bit from the intense wave of pleasure that had just so recently washed over you, she removed her fingers from in between your wet folds. She seemed to carefully inspect them before bringing them up to her lips, which already happened to be glossy with your slick from earlier, and licked the juices right off of them, as if she were a starving woman and this would be her last time ever tasting you.
She licked her lips, looking quite satisfied as she smirked down at you. She then gave you a gentle, affectionate kiss on the lips, letting you taste your own produce on her mouth.
"Mm. Damn. Sweet as always, angel."
You were busy catching your breath as she said this, swallowing the spit that had collected in your mouth and around your lips, thanks to the disheveled state your girlfriend had reduced you into. Even your hair was in a fray and she hadn't even touched it.
"Lute, do you want me to...return the favor? I know you're bound to be stressed from extermination earlier-"
You were cut off by her scoff, almost as if she had been offended that you would even begin to offer such a thing.
"Heavens no. What do you take me for, some selfish bastard?" She asked, lips pulling down into that signature grumpy frown she normally wore.
"What- babe no. Lu, its not selfish for wanting your partner to return the favor for you, especially if you just gave them an orgasm as good as that."
She huffed, looking almost cute with her face scrunched up in a scowl. But it had wiped clean off her face, eyes softer now, as she looked back towards you.
"Whatever. But I'm fine, babe, really. Tonight was about you, and you did so good for me. Thank you for letting me get to taste you."
She seemed to think for a second before adding:
"It was even better than getting to slaughter those demon bitches down in hell today."
You offered Lute a tired smile and let out a soft laugh at her attempt to compare your pussy and killing demons in the same sentence. Eventually, she too ended up chuckling, though still holding the statement to be true, no matter how much you seemed to want to laugh or disprove it.
At the end of the day, you both loved one another more than either of you could ever bring out into words or actions.
So many emotions came to surface when loving the fierce-spirited, exorcist angel known as Lute.
It was rough.
It was different.
It was maybe even a bit playful.
But by all the angels and their beautiful wings, was it fun.
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(Bonus + featuring the 'original dick')
…Though of course it could never last too long, as the sudden booming voice of Adam rang out throughout the room as he practically kicked down the door, no doubt looking for his favorite lieutenant and her girlfriend.
"Guess who's back , bitchesss! Ey, Lute, looks like your party here is missing some of the 'original dick'! All ya had to do was ask-"
He never did get to finish his sentence, for there was already an angelic spear being flung at his head, resulting in a high-pitched scream from Adam, which was enough for him to go silent in shame that his lieutenant could manage to evoke such a noise from him.
He never did seem to walk in on you two much after that.
216 notes · View notes
remuswriting · 2 months
Text
MEET ME IN THE POURING RAIN; MIYA ATSUMU
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Y/N decides to walk home, even though it's pouring. Atsumu and his truck save the day.
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WORD COUNT: 1,950 words
TAGS: Feelings Realization; Friends to Lovers; Fluff; Post-Time Skip
NOTES: Do I write too much of Atsumu? I don't know and I don't care! Also, not beta-read. It's 2 AM as I post this so hopefully the amount of typos is not overwhelming
Read on AO3
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The rain is relentless against the pavement and soaks Y/N down to the bone. The nice jacket his mother bought him for his birthday two years ago does nothing to keep him dry. It’s actually just weighing him down as the rest of his clothes stick to his body. He should find somewhere dry and wait for the rain to lighten up, but he just wants to be home already.
Y/N usually enjoys his walks home from his calculus lecture. Some days he listens to an audiobook or calls Atsumu to hear about what crazy things the MSBY Black Jackals have been up to. Although Atsumu may be annoying at times, he’s a phenomenal storyteller when he wants to be, and Y/N likes listening to stories after suffering through his three-hour calculus lecture. Atsumu also loves talking, so it works out well.
His phone buzzes inside his bag, signaling he’s gotten a text, but he refuses to pull it out. The rain will just ruin it, and he doesn’t have enough money to replace it. He imagines it’s Atsumu asking if Y/N is home yet or if he’s sound shelter to wait out the storm. Atsumu prefers calling over texting, says it’s easier to say what he needs to than type it out, but he waits until Y/N calls him because Y/N likes texting more.
His phone buzzes again in his bag—several more times, actually. There’s the possibility that it may not be Atsumu texting him. It could be Osamu, asking the same questions as Atsumu while also probably questioning him if he still has enough to eat since he meal preps for Y/N.
“It amazes me ya’ve survived this long,” Osamu said one day when staring into Y/N’s bare fridge. Two days later, he brought a myriad of containers of food, all labeled of what they were and smiley faces next to the messy kanji.
Y/N has always been thankful for the meals Osamu makes him, because he knows it does take time out of Osamu’s day, (also Osamu will not let him pay him for the food—was actually insulted when Y/N mentioned it) but he’s really thankful for those meals right now. All he wants to do is shower, put on some warm clothes, and heat up some food before watching the newest J-Drama he’s found on Netflix. The rain hasn’t put him in a cozy mood, but a mood that requires a cozy atmosphere to fix.
Lightning strikes across the sky, and Y/N really should find somewhere dry, but he’s so close to his apartment. There’s no point in stopping now. In roughly five minutes, he’ll be walking up the most likely flooded steps to his apartment. That’s what he tells himself when thunder shakes the ground beneath his feet.
For the first time in 10 minutes, a truck drives by him. Well, the truck actually slows down and matches his pace. It’s really his luck that he’s going to be killed in the pouring rain. It’s probably karma from not stopping. It’d really help if he could make out what the truck looks like, but it’s raining too hard to get a clear look. However, he faintly hears the truck window roll down slightly.
“What the hell do ya think you’re doin’?” Atsumu’s familiar voice yells over the rain. Relief crashes over Y/N because that means he’s not going to be kidnapped or killed.
“Walking home,” Y/N yells back so Atsumu can hear him, and he wonders how Atsumu knew it was him. The rain is coming down too hard for Y/N to make out the faded red truck Atsumu refuses to give up. It doesn’t matter that it’s quickly becoming a piece of shit with how terrible of a driver he is, he’s attached to the damn thing. “What are you doing?”
“Lookin’ for ya, obviously,” Atsumu says, and Y/N’s heart races a little. It must be because lightning makes an appearance once again, lighting up the gray sky. “Ya’ve not been answerin’ anyone’s texts or calls.”
Y/N rolls his eyes, even though he doubts Atsumu can see him. “I’m being rained on. Why would I get my phone out?”
“Why are ya lettin’ yerself get rained on?” Atsumu asks, as if that’s the real question. “I would’ve come and gotten ya if ya just texted me.”
It’s not a confession of anything, because Atsumu tells him that all the time. He tells Y/N how he doesn’t need to be so independent and can rely on him whenever he needs to. Atsumu is just like that, though. He’s so dedicated to the people and things he cares about, and really, Y/N is amazed he’s part of the small list of people Atsumu likes enough to consider his friends.
“It’s not that far of a walk,” Y/N says, and it thunders again. A sense of reality washes over him because if he stays out in the rain much longer, he’s going to end up sick. Being sick will make Atsumu fret over him by trying to take care of him while insulting him at the same time. It wouldn’t be such a terrible thought if Atsumu wasn’t so terrible at taking care of sick people. “Or at least not far enough that I thought to bother you.”
Atsumu stops the truck, and Y/N stops as well. He could just keep walking, but he doesn’t know how Atsumu will respond to that. Maybe driving up on the sidewalk to actually stop Y/N from walking away.
“You’re such an idiot,” Atsumu snaps, and Y/N flinches a little. “Get in the damn truck so I can take ya home.”
“My clothes are soaked,” Y/N says, and he wishes he could see Atsumu. It’s hard to fully know what Atsumu is thinking when he can’t see him.
“And?  Get in the truck.”
“I’m going to get your truck all wet if I get in,” Y/N says, but he’s walking up to the door now.
“It’s already gettin’ all wet with the window bein’ down, so hurry your ass up,” Atsumu says, and Y/N grabs the door handle. His grip on it isn’t great because of how wet his hands are, but he manages to open it without issue.
Atsumu is soaked as well, which explains why he doesn’t care about Y/N’s clothes being wet. He really looks like he was nearly drowned, as if he was out in the rain for a while, but Y/N doubts he looks any better.
“Why are you soaked?” Y/N asks as the door closes. Atsumu’s hair is plastered against his head, but he still runs his fingers through it, and excess water runs down his wrist.
“I had to get out to my truck somehow,” Atsumu says, and the rain comes down harder, making the truck shake a little. “Don’t worry about me. Worry about yourself, cause if ya get sick, I ain’t takin’ care of ya.”
It’s unsaid, but they both know Atsumu will take care of him as he always does. Y/N does the same when Atsumu isn’t feeling well—physically and emotionally. They’re just there for each other in a way that doesn’t translate across the board. Because Osamu may meal prep for Y/N and Y/N may help him out in the restaurant sometimes, but they wouldn’t do the things Y/N and Atsumu do for each other. Y/N wouldn’t go over to Osamu’s house when he’s sick to take care of him, sleeping in the living room so he’s not alone for too long.
(Although, Atsumu does have Osamu. He doesn’t really need Y/N, but that’s never been talked about. Osamu just lets Y/N in and says he has to go check on his restaurant before leaving Y/N to care for Atsumu. Really, it’s a strange thing, but it’s somehow understood without saying anything.)
“Worry about yourself,” Y/N says as he rolls his eyes. “You’re more likely to get sick out of the two of us.”
“Am not!” Atsumu says as he starts driving toward Y/N’s apartment. “I’m an athlete, which means I have the strongest immune system ever.”
Y/N chuckles because Atsumu is the one who gets sick more often out of the two of them. “I’m pretty sure Sakusa-kun is the one with the strongest immune system.”
“We ain’t talkin’ bout Omi-kun,” Atsumu says, and his accent is coming out just a little more. It always does when they have these small, meaningless arguments. He’s always been one to get worked up over small things, even when he says he’s not. “We’re talkin’ bout ya and how you’re terrible when you’re sick.”
“I think you’re getting me confused with you,” Y/N says as he presses the back of his head against the headrest. A shiver runs up his spine, and he realizes Atsumu has the air on. “Why the fuck do you have the air on?  Do you want us to get a cold?
Atsumu glares at him as he turns the air off. “Is it to yer likin’ now?”
Y/N hums. “Yes, thank you.”
His apartment appears in the window, and excitement rushes through him. All he can think about are the things that motivated him to even walk in the rain, and Atsumu is an added bonus. Atsumu can take a shower too since he has clothes at Y/N’s apartment, and they’ll watch that J-Drama and eat some food together.
Atsumu’s sudden silence has Y/N look over at him, and Atsumu’s gripping the steering wheel so tightly it’s concerning. Y/N just stares at him for a moment, trying to figure out what’s suddenly brought on this behavior. Atsumu has always been someone who just says what he’s thinking or feeling, and when he doesn’t, it still shows. He doesn’t wear his heart on his sleeve; he wears it proudly on his chest for everyone to see. Y/N just catches on better than most.
“Do you want to come in?  I still have meals Osamu-kun made,” Y/N says, and Atsumu’s grip on the steering wheel loosens.
“Really?” Atsumu asks, and he sounds like an excited child.
Y/N chuckles. “Yes, really.”
Atsumu’s smile is bright and warm as they pull into the parking lot. Y/N smiles with him, and the familiar warmth he associates with Atsumu blooms in his chest. When Atsumu looks at him, it only grows to burn a little. It’s when Atsumu unbuckles his seatbelt Y/N realizes that part of him would’ve been crushed if Atsumu had said no. He would’ve understood, but having Atsumu with him will improve his mood better than any J-Drama will.
They look each other in the eyes, and Y/N gently tilts his head a little. “You didn’t get soaked just running out to your truck, did you?”
Atsumu’s smile falters slightly, as if he’s been caught, and his cheeks turn a gentle pink. Y/N nearly laughs, but he holds it in, just like he holds in the urge to run his fingers through Atsumu’s soaked hair. The brassiness in it has Y/N making a mental note to buy Atsumu more purple shampoo. After a moment, Atsumu chuckles a little.
“No, I didn’t,” Atsumu confesses before unbuckling his seat belt. “I didn’t realize the math buildin’ was so big.”
Y/N actually laughs this time. “Yeah, but next time I’ll make it easier to find me.”
Atsumu’s blush only grows to cover his entire face. “Ya better.”
98 notes · View notes
gamergirl-niffler · 6 months
Note
Alright, listen up! I'm throwing it out there — hit me with some fluffy Christmas prep scenarios featuring Bakugo, Kirishima, Shinso and Eri (together), Midoriya, Present Mic, and Aizawa. Politely asking, of course 🎄
YAY! Time for some Christmas Spirit!
Hope you will enjoy it!
Christmas preparation with MHA men
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Bakugo
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- He isn't much of a "Christmas enjoyer"
- He has better things to take care of! Like his hero work, training, getting better. 
- But seeing how much you like christmas... He is willing to go with it all for your sake.
- Katsuki makes sure to get you THE BEST christmas tree there is. He is going to fight for it if he has to!
- Bakugo helps you with decorating the flat and he complains about it a lot.
- He complains about the amount of stuff you put around the flat and about all the stuff you hang all around BUT he still helps you by lifting you up when some place you try to decorate is too high for you.
- What Katsuki actually loves is helping you with cooking, altho his help is scolding you during this. We all know he is a perfectionist when it comes to cooking, so you are ready for some hard times. It's worth it in the end. 
- If you ask really nicely, he reluctantly puts on a christmas sweater. Just don't tease him about it, if you cross the line the sweater will be ripped into shreds.
- Same goes for Christmas music. One year he blew up the radio because it was playing too much of it! 
- Katsuki tells you that he doesn't want any gift from you, leaving you puzzled about what to get him since he never shows the need to have something. He himself already has few gifts for you. All of them were bought even months ago.
- Christmas with Bakugo are indeed difficult sometimes but in the end he is trying to make it nice for you because he knows it makes you happy. 
Your happiness is his happiness.
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Kirishima
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- He. Loves. Winter!
- The moment the first snow falls Eijiro is glued to the window watching the pretty snowflakes fall upon the city.
- As soon as you are back home, you're pulled out outside to enjoy the fresh snow with your excited boyfriend.
- Winter means Christmas and it means lots of fun! 
- Buying the tree, ornaments and decorations is just so magical for him, all because the shiny, glittery atmosphere it creates.
- The two of you decorate the whole apartament, from floor to ceiling. Of course to make stuff easier for you, he is letting you sit on his shoulder to help you reach high places.
- Cooking is fun but baking is even more fun! Both of you make delicious food and cute gingerbread cookies to enjoy.
- Matching Christmas sweater is a MUST.  Maybe they aren't too pretty but they scream Christmas and that's the most important.
- For Kirishima, the best evening is just the two of you, snuggling up under the warm blanket with hot chocolate and some christmas movie on, bathed in this magical atmosphere and warmth.
- He showers you with many gifts! Even if you asked just for one thing. According to him it's what you deserved.
- Gift from you is treated like the biggest treasure. No matter what you gave him, he doesn't care. It's a gift from you and that's what counts.
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Shinso and Eri
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- They are an interesting mix. Shinso doesn't care that much but still enjoys Christmas while Eri is EXCITED about them. 
- You can't blame her, she has been celebrating Christmas for just a few years.
- Before she was rescued she never celebrated Christmas.
- Shinso is like a big brother to her, so he is doing his best to make it as great as only possible and you are there to help.
- Your shared apartment is decorated with lots of lights and many cute and pretty Christmas decorations which you also love.
- The tree you buy is big, and of course Eri helps decorate it. Whole fun is finished by Eri being lifted up by Shinso so she can put a star on top of it.
- Baking gingerbread cookies, decorating them is fun. You create a cookie that looks just like Shinso while he decorates his own cookie to look like a cat.
- Later, you help Eri with building the gingerbread house.
- After that it's time to go outside and it's a blast!  Shinso actually looks happy while building the snowman with Eri or while throwing you into a pile of snow.
- As fun as it is, you two have no chance against Eri in a snowball fight. 
- According to Shinso, your snow angel is the prettiest but not prettier than you.
- Back at home it's all about hot chocolate and Christmas songs. You and Eri can sing your hearts out but Shinso won't join it but he will agree to dance with Eri.
- It turns out your boyfriend is a decent dancer and you are recording this as a souvenir.
- When Eri is asleep after all the excitement and fun the two of you spend some alone time just talking and enjoying each others presence.
- Getting gifts for Eri is easy, she clearly voices what she would love to receive, Shinso on the hand is a little tricky.
- He may not seem like it but he is very perceptive and already has gifts prepared for his favorite girls.
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Midoriya
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- He is excited but he isn't over the top.
- The two of you celebrate in a calm way. Just getting your shared apartment all nice, cozy and full of christmas spirit.
- Izuku loves to visit family during this time, and you visit his mom together, and then visit your family, no matter how big it is.
- Back at home, the two of you bake Christmas cookies and even build a gingerbread house together. It's too pretty to eat.
- Your Christmas tree is full of All Mighta ornaments because of course it is. Izuku collected a lot of them over the years and he bought new ones this year as well.
- Your favorite is the little All Might in Santa's hat.
- Not to mention he owns a few All Might Christmas sweaters. Some are already too small for him so you get the privilege to wear them so you both match! 
- Radio is playing the whole time, blasting the Christmas music. You both even sing together if you know the lyrics.
- Buying him a gift isn't easy since you want to give him something special. He on the other hand already planned what to get you.
- Christmas with Izuku is simply wholesome, full of fun and love.
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Hizashi Yamada
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- This man loves to celebrate, so Christmas is a great time of the year. (Not to mention that pretty soon after Christmas there is New Year!)
- Christmas music is playing in your flat from the very first day of december and there is lots of singing.
- Your flat is decorated in a pretty flashy way; a lot of glitter and colorful, flashy lights.
- Hizashi loves to randomly grab you and pull you into a dance right in the middle of your living room to whatever song is now playing.
- Celebrating together is fun but what's even more fun? Celebrating with friends.
- You two invite Shota and Nemuri to have a drink and a good chat about something different than just kids, school and work. 
- Of course he is not only all about partying and being loud all the time. Hizashi loves taking you for a walk so the two can take a look around the city and enjoy all the lights and decorations. 
- Not to mention he loves to snuggle up with you on couch or in bed, share earphones and just spend time together.
- Each year you aren't sure what to get for him as a gift but in the end you end up getting something he loves.
- When it comes to him, he is a master at this! No idea how he is doing this.
- You don't mind any of the stuff he does, this makes your Christmas even more special. You couldn't be more perfect than they already are.
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Shota Aizawa
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- Shota wouldn't celebrate Christmas if it wasn't for you.
- Sure, it's a nice festive time but he prefers to use this free time to get some much deserved rest. It was like this until you showed up in his life.
- When others have big christmas trees that are fully decorated in rich lights and ornaments, he prefers a simple, small fake tree. 
- It's still not safe from the two cats you own but it's not as messy and won't hurt any kitty if they decide to hunt it down. 
- Not to mention the real tree is expensive, takes up the space and in the end it will leave a mess. It's not worth it, according to him.
-  He isn't up to decorating the whole flat but seeing how much you love it, he agrees to put up some more decorations.
- Shota wants to rest and hates cold weather but he agrees to go on a walk with you or help you with Christmas shopping.
- He reluctantly helps you with cooking, even if he prefers to just take a nap.
- There is one thing he actually loves to do, and it's dressing up your two cats. Shota loves seeing them in cute Christmas outfits. His phone is full of pictures of them just looking cute.
- His recipe for Christmas is easy. Tasty supper, exchanging gifts and snuggling on the couch while watching or listening to something. Shota really doesn't need much, all he wants for Christmas is you. 
- You can enjoy your movie/song while he naps holding you close.
- Surprisingly he has no problem with getting you a perfect gift, Shota is really perceptive so it's easy for him to pick something you need or will enjoy.
- When it comes to you getting him a gift it's even easier; a new sleeping bag or cozy blanket. That's all this man needs besides your love.
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beatrixstonehill2 · 6 months
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"Thank you so much for taking me to your lovely home, Mr. Schultz! It's so nice to see you! I had a feeling if I worked my hometown I might run into a few familiar faces...."
"The pleasure's all mine, Josie. Look at you! My, my, last I saw you, you were a skinny, nerdy girl who could barely land a date. I almost didn't recognize you strutting up and down my block, flagging men down for money to take a spin with that big, sexy pregnant body of yours."
"Awww, thank you! I'm glad you like pregnant girls! But I actually don't get paid."
"Oh, just providing some community service? My niece is about your age and she volunteers herself at the homeless shelter downtown."
"Mmmm, good for her! I'm actually working on my thesis. I guess you could say...."
"Oh? This I've got to hear."
"Well, I'm a Sexual Health Major and I'm trying to get my Master's. As soon as I started college they told me about my assignment. It's so time consuming it's almost all I do for college...."
"Does your college have you out working the streets, getting that belly pumped full of kids for the sake of experience, or is it more of a written project you need the experience for?"
"Both, kind of. I'm to fuck twelve new men a day. Every day, until I graduate. No exceptions. That's eighty-four men a week. Three hundred thirty-six men a month, at least. Over four thousand a year."
"That's quite a daunting amount of work. You have to catalogue them?"
"Yep! Get their names, or a pseudonym, their cock length, time they lasted, the positions they tried on me, what got them off the most, and summarize my findings about guys' sexual performance. I'm supposed to write an essay about it and share it with the university in a couple years."
"My oh my, seems you've been at this a while then. Already over ten thousand guys who fucked that curvy body of yours?"
"Yep! Closer to twenty thousand, at this point."
"And what wisdom can you share? You must be so experienced, darling...."
"Well, most guys are total perverts, but they won't just come out and say it. They're all porn addicts. The second one gets limp fucking my juicy, swollen pussy I have to roll my eyes, reminding them to fuck my ass instead to emulate the grip they use on their own cock. Then when they're about to cum take that dirty cock out of my ass and cram it in my pussy, cum inside it, and piss in it too, cause that's really all a girl's pussy is good for. Not getting men off, just a filthy toilet to do your business in and get out. Wipe your cock off my my labia. I'll lick the guys clean if there's any mess left....."
"Wow, and that works for almost every guy?"
"Well, most. Some like to fuck me doggystyle, others like me to ride them. But lots of guys have their own quirks. If it's an older guy I'll ask if they have a daughter my age, and if so to use her name as picture that I'm her as we fuck and that works every time. If the guy's my age I ask if they have a sister. Same deal. Oh, and other guys if they still have trouble getting all the way to an orgasm I tend to assume they must be into really extreme porn. So I just tell them to start beating me up. Punch my belly, my boobs, strangle me, give me a black eye. And boom, the second they start going to town beating on me they cum like crazy."
"Sounds like you must get that sexy body of yours beaten to a pulp fairly regularly, if my experience with the newer generations of men are anything to go by."
"Ohhh, you bet! But I'm a good girl, I get used to it. I just sit there writing about what gets them off in my little notebooks and I encourage them to keep escalating their aggression until it's enough for them to cum."
"Such a perfect student. I hope they're giving you extra credit for all the brutality..... and STDs, I'd wager."
"Nope, it's just considered part of the project! I have pretty much every std you can imagine, my pussy is so swollen and red from all of them it's starting to look like a balloon. And I'm sure having it treated like a toilet isn't helping either, but oh well. In my opinion, this is what a girl's sex is supposed to look like."
"I take it I won't be at risk of contracting anything with you?"
"Not at all, silly! My college gives me an unlimited prescription for the male-only std-prevention pills."
"Shame they don't make one for girls like you."
"Why? My pussy should be super swollen, red, irritated, and deformed from all the wonderful STDs men give me! Like I said, that's what a girl's pussy is there for..... Plus, the government would never fund an anti-std pill for girls!"
"Ah, good point, dear.... So, enough chatter, I guess I'll be the next entry into your notebook. Hope you enjoy yourself."
"I always do. And even if you don't really want to you can try out hitting me while we fuck, you'd be surprised how fun it is!"
"I think I just might, sweetheart.... Seeing you like this makes me feel like I'd be letting you down if I didn't."
Josie bit her lip. "That's good to hear. Do whatever you want to me, it's what my body's for.❤️"
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