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cherrychilli · 4 months

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Slip of the Tongue

A mini series I 18+ I Enemies to lovers

Chapter three

Chapter Summary: Things turn sour in the days after you scramble out of Eddie's trailer, leading to an interesting confrontation at your old alma mater.

Chapter warnings: Oral sex (m)

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It’s been a week since that day in Eddie’s bedroom.

During that time, you hit the books, powered through your shifts, made it to every lecture and finished your midterms, now holding the fruit of your labor in your hands.

You managed to score in the 90’s again, relief filtering into your lungs with deep, calming breaths because it accounted for 25% of your final grade. With your academic progress still intact, you slipped the glowing results sheet into your bag, allowing yourself to think of your neighbor again.

And as weird as it is to say, you do feel strangely grateful for his contribution.

You’d awoken the day after bolting out of Eddie’s place with your head already crowded with thoughts of him but admittedly, having slept better than you had in a long time. He’d talked a big game and he delivered – the encounter having unwound you enough to get back to work with renewed focus.

So yes, you were grateful but also, you were furious.

Seven whole days had passed by and you hadn’t seen Eddie once.

You tried not to read into the fact that for that entire week, you didn’t hear him play his guitar once. Tried not to let your chest cave in when you didn’t catch him outside working on that tetanus trap on wheels he called a van when you took off for work. Tried not to grit your teeth when you didn’t run into him even when you returned home. Every trace of him gone.

It wasn’t that you wanted to see him exactly, but you couldn’t ignore how his absence made you feel – like a mistake he was trying to run away from.

On day four, the day after your exams, you’d even gone so far as to try wheedling some answers out of Wayne when you passed by the older man on your way to work, attempting to be as inconspicuous about it as possible.

It wasn’t uncommon for you to share a few polite words with Wayne whenever you ran into him but it was out of the ordinary for you to bring up his nephew in any other context that didn’t have to do with a noise complaint.

Segueing into it as gracefully as you could manage, you tried to make it sound as offhand as possible, like a casual observation rather than the heavily rehearsed thing that had consumed your mind all day.

“It’s been pretty quiet in the park lately. He sick or something?”, you asked him while toing at some nearby gravel like your own interest in the question was waning.

You refused to say Eddie’s name, afraid that just by mentioning it, it might put a crack in the eggshell thin mask that holds your hurricane of emotions at bay.

As you had expected, Wayne regards you with some surprise – catching his nearly imperceptible squint, his craggy brow crinkling too. It was both unavoidable and understandable. You would have reacted the same way if you were him.

The weight of his second long silence borders on excruciation, something almost surgical about the way he assesses you. Dissecting you is what it really felt like but thankfully, he shows you mercy.

“Says he’s got things to do at school – doubt there’s any studying involved though”, he lets out a huff, a dry, almost laugh that conveyed his long suffering history with his nephew’s unbeaten record for flunking.

Eddie willingly spending more time at school? The same boy who once climbed down out of a second story window, slipped and hauled ass on a sprained ankle just to get out of taking a math test?

So he was avoiding you.

Despite the bitter taste clawing at the back of your throat, you mustered up a laugh of your own and hoped it was convincing enough, waving goodbye to Wayne as you parted ways.

For those seven days you blocked out the thought of Eddie as best you could but now that your exams were no longer a concern, you were finally free to confront the spineless louse.

If he thought he was going to be safe holed up at your old alma mater he was dead fucking wrong.

Treading fire onto campus, you marched through waves of highschoolers, making a steady beeline for the drama room, remembering that was where he held those weird meetings with his weirdo friends in their weird matching t-shirts.

The teenagers hastily parted off to the side in an effort to get out of your way, some of the seniors who recognized you beginning to whisper, speculating as to what brought you back and looking so incensed.

Stomping up to the room, you let loose all that had been simmering inside you – all that frustration from being evaded and those acrid feelings that felt too close to rejection, parting the doors open forcefully with both hands. It makes for your desired entrance when they swing back and bang closed behind you like a thunderclap, startling the boy who’d been busy scribbling in his notebook getting ready for his next campaign.

His pen clattered to the floor from where it flew out his hand and bounced off a nearby theater prop. You can’t be sure given how abrupt it was but you think he might have yelped too, a high pitched eep like some sort of puppy who had its tail stepped on by mistake.

Sitting askew on his carved wooden throne, Eddie’s cast in warm hues of orange and yellow underneath stage lights and candlelight but nothing shines brighter than the sheer surprise overwhelming his face. It pleases you more to recognize the unmistakable tinge of fear he’s incapable of hiding behind his wide eyes when they land on you.

Good. He should be scared, your mood far from friendly as you turn to lock the door behind you and retrieve the key, clutching it tight in your palm.

Was this overkill? locking him inside with you? You didn’t think so. Not after he’d weaseled his way out of talking to you for an entire week. You weren’t about to leave room for him to plan an escape route too.

You stepped closer to where he cowered at the D&D table, your lips pulled into an imitation smile, curved up exactly like one but so clearly absent of any sweetness or warmth, only radiating danger.

To Eddie, your menacing saunter resembled a cobra leisurely winding its way up to cornered prey, jaw seconds away from unhinging to swallow him whole.

He flinches when you slap down your results sheet on the table, now crumpled from how you had it clenched in your fist on your way over here. Better the paper than his neck you supposed although truthfully, you were still on the fence about that.

“Uh, what’s this?”, he finally dares to speak, a nervous croak of a sound that scratched its way out of his throat, cautiously leaning closer to examine the paper. The spiteful devil perched on your left shoulder chittered and sneered, whispering all sorts of encouragement to make you reply with spite, to make some underhanded remark about how you’re not surprised he couldn’t recognize anything that didn’t have a row of F’s stamped all over it given it’s his second time repeating senior year.

But the lenient angel on your right shoulder leaned in and spoke reason into your other ear, dulcet but insistent reminders that you only came here to inquire, not injure.

The devil withers away with a snarl when you clench your jaw, holding your tongue at bay, unable to spit that kind of venom at Eddie.

Before now, your main gripe with him was his disruptive influence, the way he wedged himself into your life like a splinter caught underneath your fingernail with his head rattling music and blood boiling snark. Grinning like his biggest pleasure in life was annoying you enough to darken his bedroom window day after day with a face full of fury and a mouthful of fuck you’s. He was too carefree for your liking as well, able to shrug off his plummeting grades when a minor slip of yours would have you digging out your emergency pack of cigarettes to chain smoke the stress away in secret. But taking shots at his intellect like all the other assholes you went to school with felt too…slimy.

The same assholes who had looked down on you and your trailer park background. The same assholes who rolled their eyes when you got accepted to your College of choice. The same assholes who cackled when you had to enroll in a nearby Community College instead when your family’s finances fell in the red.

Maybe you weren’t a cobra after all, only masquerading as one.

“My midterms. I passed”, you answered him flatly, watching recollection flash across his face.

The stress it had caused you was the reason why this all started in the first place after all.

“Couldn’t have done it if you hadn’t helped me out”, you added pointedly, tone almost accusatory.

Even under the vivid stage lights that paint his complexion like a sunset, you can still make out the way his cheeks pink up at the vague mention of what had happened in his bed that day.

“Oh, uh– that’s great”, he offered you something that resembled a smile, face so twisted with nerves that he couldn’t get his lips to curve up the right way. Jesus, you’d never seem him like this before. He was barely recognizable and for the first time in your life, you found yourself preferring his usual tornado presence and boisterous anti charm.

“Yeah. So, why’ve you been avoiding me?”

His jaw tensed at that, throat bobbing as he swallowed. Obviously, you hadn’t come by to say thank you.

“Listen, the club will be here in an hour. They already know I’m in here so just give me the key and…we’ll talk about this later, okay?”, he attempted to negotiate with you in the same way one might try to approach a skittish horse, overly cautious with an undertone of fear, holding out a shaky palm to collect the key but you weren’t about to give in now.

“What, so you can find somewhere new to hide?”, you sneered.

To show him you’re serious about seeing this conversation to the end you make a show of dangling the key to the drama room in front of his face – his only hope of escape, but it’s what you’re doing with your other hand that gathers his attention.

Hooking a finger into the neckline of your t-shirt, you pull it low enough for your cleavage to show, soft swells sitting high on your chest, framed by pretty lace. And despite the dread trickling down Eddie’s spine, thick like tar, one thing becomes abundantly clear in that moment.

He’s only a man.

The little flash of tit is enough to trigger his hormones. Stupefied, he takes in an eyeful, committing the contours of your breasts to memory – the newest entry into the sordid vault of his spank bank before he’s able to snap out of it. He attempts to snatch the key from you but he’s too slow, stomach cartwheeling as he watches it disappear into your cleavage when you tuck it away for safe keeping in your bra cup. Honestly, he can’t decide if he’s more upset about it or turned on.

Face twisting with exasperation, he locks his eyes back on yours.

“You’re being ridiculous!” he accuses with increasingly reddening cheeks.

Unbothered by the claim, you shove a couple of dice and a few of his notes aside to sit yourself on the edge of the table, arms crossed underneath your breasts, showing your defiance.

This isn’t like when he’d gotten you to beg for your release, chipping away at your resolve with his touch and tongue until you crumbled under the weight of ecstasy. You’ve molded yourself into an imposing shadow of the girl who came undone on his sheets, obstinate and immovable and it’s clear that you’ll sooner wear him down for an answer even if it means being stuck here in this room all night than leave without one.

Eddie’s hardened expression falters as he realizes this, sighing. Relenting.

“Fine”, he slumps back in his chair.

“I didn’t mean to…I didn’t know what to say– “

“Bullshit”, you cut him off with an icy scoff. Eddie Munson at a loss for words? Sure. And Steve Harrington’s a bald virgin.

“It’s not bullshit”, he attempts to deny, some heat behind his words.

“Do I need to remind you that you’re the one who offered to help me “relax” in the first place?” you bit back with heat to match.

Your rebuttal has him silent – both of you knowing he can’t argue otherwise.

“Where’d all that bravado go, Munson?” you poke again just to see the vein at his temple bulge but he doesn’t answer, jaw set firm.

You’d hoped to scare it out of him at first or even force it out of him by locking him in here but for once that metalhead menace is tightlipped and damn good at it.

Taking another moment to consider your options you gird yourself to ask the one question you’ve been dreading. Casting your eyes down, arms tightening under your breasts, the key shifts into an awkward angle, jabbing your soft flesh but it’s not nearly as unpleasant as what you have to say next. You weren’t sure if you wanted to hear the answer but you force it out, tongue turning more sour the longer the question sat there unasked.

“Do you regret it?”

It’s the way your tone loses all of its heat, crumbling slightly at the end of your question that makes him feel like the world’s biggest jackass. Another awful second of silence passes before you’re startled by him shooting out of his seat, chair screeching noisily against the floor as its forced back so quickly, his hand reaching for yours but he stops short of your fingers touching.

This close, you can smell him again. That same scent that clung to his bed. That same scent that hung on your hair. The same scent you reluctantly washed away in the shower that night you got back home. It makes you feel woozy, like a cloud full of pheromones to the face. If he takes one more step, you’re afraid you might leap up and bite his chest through his shirt like an animal in heat.

“I don’t regret it”, he answers you, gentle. Honest.

And just like that, all the anxiety you’d carried around for a week unravels with those four words. In its place, relief strummed on your ribs like nimble fingers plucking strings on a harp, a hopeful tune building up to a crescendo inside your chest. But you don’t let it show – forcing an impending smile away, keeping your expression unreadable because you liked the way he looked back at you, sweating with uncertainty.

“Okay – then you wouldn’t mind me returning the favor, would you?”, you rose up from the table, placing a palm in the middle of his chest.

“Huh?” he stumbles back, the back of his knee connecting with his chair.

“Fair’s fair right?”

With a little effort, you push him back into his seat, dropping down to kneel between his legs when they spread for you.

“Shit shit wait- really?”, he sputters as your fingers climb up to his belt, working open that damn handcuff buckle you’d become curious about to the point of near infatuation in the last few days.

You roll your eyes in reply like his question is a nuisance to you, growing excited under the surface.

Popping open the button on his jeans and pulling down his zipper, you can see that he’s already half hard underneath his boxers, a thick outline of his cock growing more prominent.

He’s warm in your hand when you pull his jeans and boxers down to grasp him, watching it spring up, feeling him grow harder by the second. Your fingers are dwarfed by the size of him although you already expected that after what you had seen in his trailer.

Eddie tenses when you bring your face closer, lips parted, breath puffing against his flushed, throbbing tip. Just a little more and-

“But before I do, you’re going to tell me why you avoided me”

He blinks back at your wicked smile and sharp eyes, plummeting.

“You’re fucking evil, you know that? First you hold me hostage and now you’re going to interrogate me with your fist around my dick?”

You grin back, squeezing him mostly gently, the warmth of your hand alone enough to make him feel compliant.

“Do it or I’ll stop”, you threaten sweetly.

Somehow, he likes the sound of that even less than the fear of you doing something like snapping it clean off.

There’s something so perversely satisfying about getting to use his words against him – withholding his release in the same way he had done with you. Being on the other side of it, you now understand why he enjoyed it so much, the potent thrill of being in control.

“Fuck okay”, he lets his head fall back to thud against the back of his throne, the column of his neck stretched and bared for you to see the way his Adams apple bobs in his throat with a thick swallow.

“I thought about you all the time…” he starts, tipping his chin down to look at you again, eyes dark and shadowy from this angle. “Shit, I couldn’t sleep after what happened in my bed – had to get away because I knew if I saw you again, I’d just drag you back there”

Something about the image of him manhandling you, maybe even hauling you over his shoulder, all overcome with unbridled cave man lust for you as he takes you back to his bed brews excitement in your bones. You only hoped it didn’t show on your face.

“And I knew that- well, I thought, because you didn’t actually say, but all you wanted was a one time thing…right?”, he asks, a hint of disappointment in his tone.

That was your intention when you first climbed into his bedroom, yes. But now…

“You seemed to hold back just fine when I came in here”, you skirt around the question in favor of focusing on what he’d said before that, starting to stroke him slowly as a small reward for his honesty.

“You scared the fuck out of me”, his breath grows shorter now that you’re moving your hand. “And we’re in school – didn’t think you’d actually come down here. You liked this place less than I did”

That’s true, you did. You just didn’t expect him to have noticed, let alone have remembered that fact. Guess all that ganja didn’t total his memory completely.

“Well, I couldn’t just let this go on after everything that happened”, you state plainly, twisting your wrist slightly around his base before pulling back up to trace his tip with your thumb.

This time he doesn’t shy away from the vague mention. You can almost see the memory reflecting off his umber eyes as it replays in his mind.

“Didn’t even want to throw my sheets in the laundry”, he admits, a throaty timbre to his tone that makes you stroke him faster.

“That’s gross, Eddie”, you deride, nose wrinkling but he can see right through it. He recognizes it easily – the same forced disgust you’d showed him when he flicked his tongue at you and offered to get you off, trying to hide how much you liked it.

“Could still smell you on them even after they were washed you know – even though I knew they were clean. Like one of those subconscious things or whatever. Every time I thought of you, I felt like I could still taste you on my tongue”

He’s clearly done holding back, no longer the shrinking Dungeon Master you’d stormed in on not too long ago. This is the Eddie you knew well and knowing the thought of you had affected him to the point that it impacted his senses, haunting him even, makes you rush with pride.

“I never got to taste you”, you suddenly recalled, surprised you’d forgotten even for a moment considering how much thought you’d given it in the few days prior.

And with that you leaned forward, lips parting, tongue seeking his cock, licking from the bottom of his veiny shaft up to the head.

The slow, wet drag of your tongue along his sensitive skin is the kind of sensation that will not leave him quietly, groaning around all kinds of expletives as his palms clamped down on the armrests of his chair, knuckles turning white.

Taking the first few inches into your mouth, you wrapped your lips around him and sucked slowly. Swirling your tongue around the leaking tip, you get a proper taste of him, collecting a dribble of precum before pulling off. The texture of it is silky on your tongue as you sucked the mix of tangy and salty sweet onto the roof of your mouth, letting it slide down the back of your throat like honey and swallowed.

“What else did you think about?”, you asked, missing the sound of his voice as you moved to lick along his shaft again, tongue feeling around the veins adorning it.

How he’s able to keep up a conversation when you’ve got your mouth on him like this he doesn’t know. Maybe it’s the fear that you might threaten to stop again. Maybe it’s the way your eyes look up at him all cloudy with need and your thighs clench together when he talks about the thoughts he’s had about you.

“Everything we didn’t get to do that day. I know we only agreed on helping you out but after watching you tidal wave my bed I couldn’t help myself”

The crass description nearly makes you snort against his dick despite yourself; your whole face going supernova with a mix of amusement and embarrassment. It makes Eddie grin.

“I thought about this a lot. I couldn’t believe it but I knew – you wanted me in your mouth back then too, didn’t you?”

Imparting a little honesty of your own, you answer him with a whisper, licking off another clear bead of precum from his slit. “I did”.

Eddie's eyes lit up, lips turning up into a smirk. “Watching you leave after that was torture, you have no idea. You’ve ran that smart little mouth of yours at me for years – hated missing my chance to shut you up for once”

That earns him a deadpanned look and calls for a warning.

You bring a hand down to squeeze his balls and smirked when he groaned, this time nearing on pained, hands releasing the armrests with his palms held up in surrender.

“Okay okay! Easy. You’re a soft spoken delight, alright?”

With a pleased chuckle bubbling up your throat, you relinquish your hold to massage them gently instead, rolling them in your palm, continuing to stroke him with your other hand.

“Did you think about fucking me?”

“Yeah…”, he answers at the end of a thick gulp.

“How?”

“Huh?”

“How would you fuck me, Eddie? rough?”

He considers it before answering. “Not at first…but yeah, I’d – fuck, do that again? – I don’t think I could be gentle for very long because I know you can take it”

It’s like he’s reached inside of you and flipped a switch you hadn’t even been aware was there. You’d been wound so tight for so long. You needed him to use you.

“Could you be rough with me now?”, you asked, triggering a sly quirk of his eyebrow.

“You asking me to fuck your face, sweetheart?”

There’s that cocky edge again and you're quick to spar with it.

“Yes or no, Munson?”, you return, all stony faced. There won’t be any begging from you today.

He frowns when you pull out his last name again.

“Aren’t we beyond that now?”

You grin back, too stubborn for your own good.

“No”

Eddie's frown fades, a grin stretching across his face to match your own.

“Open your damn mouth”

Ringed fingers weave into your hair as you part your lips for him, allowing him to breach the wet velvet of your mouth. His girth puts some strain on your jaw but you’re able to accommodate him, tongue cradling the underside of his cock as it glides over the muscle. You’re doing well so far, letting the hand on your head, firm but gentle, guide you down until the tip of his cock bumps the back of your throat and you gag.

“Go on – choke a little for me”, he grunts.

Tears wet your eyes as you try to breathe through it, throat squeezing back against the intrusion, saliva pooling in your mouth as it begins to drip past your lips.

Eddie starts to thrust into your mouth and you take him as far into your throat as you can manage. Your nails dig into his thighs through the short, ragged pumps, past even what you thought to be your limit when your nose presses close to his pelvis, brushing the thatch of hair at his base. You find that you like how he smells there too – musky and masculine.

The sounds you pull out of him make your core ache – every hitch of his breath, every choked off moan, every rumbling groan and throaty grunt. But you stamp down the hot roiling in your belly and ignore the sticky need pooling in your panties because you really did mean what you said about returning the favor. It was your turn to please him, sidelining your own pleasure for the time being in the same way that he had done for you. Not that there wasn’t any pleasure to be derived from being in your position.

The part of you that was greedy savored every sound and liked knowing you were making him feel good – that all those noises he was making was because of you. And the part of you that was competitive took pleasure in knowing you were proving he wasn’t the only one here with a skillful mouth.

Growing more and more used to it, you take it well as he fucks your throat and he tells you as much.

“Knew I was right about you. Knew you could take it – Christ, yes, just like that”

The praise makes you bob ardently, saliva soaking his cock, trailing down to his balls. You’ve adopted a pace of your own now, Eddie’s fingers still tangled in your hair but no longer guiding you.

"Shit– I’m gonna cum. where do you– "

You pull off his cock, his eyes trained on your wet, swollen lips gasping for air, your hand taking over to pump his spit-soaked length.

“Do it in my mouth”, you finish for him, desperation staining your tone.

You take him in your mouth again, not all the way this time, using your hand to stroke what you can’t fit past your sore lips anymore.

“Fuck – oh g- fuck”

Eddie’s hips jerk and then it happens – you feel the hot lines of his release begin to spurt onto your tongue, tangy and creamy thick. You swallow it down with his dick still in your mouth, throat contracting around his twitching, spent length. You pull off slowly until it’s just his tip your lips are wrapped around, lingering on it, sucking it like you don’t want to let go. You’re forced to let it slip from your mouth when his groans near pained again, sensitivity proving too much for him now.

Sitting back on your haunches, you watch his chest puff up and down while he recovers, head thrown back against the back of his chair.

When he’s able to, he puts his softening cock away, redoing his jeans before he pulls out a bandana from his back pocket and offers it to you.

“It’s clean I promise”.

The sweetness of the gesture makes your stomach flutter. Managing a meek ‘thank you’, you use the dark material adorned with bones and skulls to wipe your lips and chin of the sticky mixture of saliva and Eddie’s spend.

Next, he offers you a hand and you take it, letting him help you off your knees and on to your feet.

“Listen, I’m sorry for last time. When you had to leave, I mean. And for avoiding you after that”, he informs you, much more tender than you're used to with him.

“I didn’t even get to uh…”, patiently, you wait for him to finish but he doesn’t, watching his face twist, all conflicted. You can see the thought ping pong around inside his head, wishing you could just reach in and pluck it out for yourself but he brushes it off before he’s able to share it with you, leaving you wondering.

“Never mind. Jeff and Gareth are going to be here soon and you probably don’t want to be seen in here with me like um, thisss”, he drags out the single syllable, unsure of a more tactful way to phrase it.

You don’t need to ask him to know that “thisss” means you look like a fucked-out mess because that’s exactly how you feel with your unruly hair and your sore jaw.

Just as before, there’s too much that’s been left unsaid but the threat of another close call has you reluctantly fishing the key out of your bra, tossing it at Eddie while you attempt to tame your hair back into something presentable, wiping off your damp cheeks too. You’re yet to realize that you haven’t returned his bandana, still clutching it in your hand.

Eddie catches the key though he doesn’t make a move towards the door, staring down at his palm like he’d just been gifted a bar of gold.

“It’s warm”, he says quietly, one of those thoughts that wasn’t meant to be said out loud but slipped past the barrier of his lips quicker than he could notice, you surmised.

It’s kind of cute actually – that dopey, spellbound look spilling over his face.

“Unlock the door, Eddie”, you sigh, subduing a laugh. At least you didn’t accuse him of being gross again like you would have an hour ago.

“Oh, right”

He steps over to the door while you gather yourself, daylight shining into the dingily lit room when he unlocks it and pulls it open.

After a quick look around outside to make sure no one sees you leaving, he steps back and holds the door open for you but you linger.

…all you wanted was a one-time thing…right?

No. Not anymore.

You weren’t sure what the two of you were now. Neighbors who got each other off? Former enemies but not really friends with benefits?

The specifics didn’t matter. At least, not right now. All you knew was that you didn’t want whatever this was to end.

Turning to Eddie, you say something you never thought you would. Not to him.

“My family’s gone for the weekend. You can come over tonight…if you want”

The smile that crosses his face is both warm and cocky, much like the one he’d flashed you from his window when this all began.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah”, you soften but only slightly. Unsmiling but not inimical.

“Oh, and if you stand me up?”, voice heating up, you jabbed a finger against his chest, right between the L and the F of his Hellfire shirt. “Try to run away again?”, you jab again and he staggers a step back, wincing when you press over the same sore spot again. “I’ll nail your balls to your front door, understand?”

For a moment he stares back at you. Stunned. And then, true to the freak riddle that he is, he smiles back even brighter.

Tag list - @honey-flustered @cryingglightningg @cadence73 @taccobelle @mrsjellymunson

#eddie munson smut #stranger things smut #eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson x reader

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tarjapearce · 8 months

Text

Bad Teachings (Pt. 6)

Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader

WARNINGS: Strained Relationships, Anxiety, Abusive Parenting, implied emotional breakdown, awkward emotional distress handling, Awkwardness. Tension, comfort. Mild fluff.

Summary: Lost wars can bring the most unexpected of comforts.

Hope you like ✨

Pt. 7

Feedback and reblogs are highly appreciated 💕

Feel like this song is perfect for the chapter:

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Fingers were about to type a reply but stopped. What use would be?

Ignoring him seemed the best option, your head had wasted enough energy in his antics, your brain had gone kaput when trying do decipher him. This is what you've gotten in return. You looked around, your little world. It couldn't be unbothered with external things, it was your fortress. The only place you allowed yourself to be you.

Annoyingly fixated into get a knitting technique right, collector of nail polishes, silly socks with passive self deprecating messages embroidered on them, face masks and beauty products; lingerie that was too pretty to not have even though, you'd flaunt it to none but yourself, a whole file in your phone of you in boudoir looking pictures was the proof.

A sucker for tragic romances, an avid exotic food consumer, and by exotic you'd mean the middle eastern all you can eat buffet located a couple blocks away your building.

Fan of feminine looking shoes but wouldn't turn down a camping day, and get muddy even, get imperfect. Humanly flawed instead of presenting yourself to the world as an 'expensive doll' as Hobie had called you.

Of course you liked to dress up, but to do it every single day had turned into a task, like any other adult thing around you.

A sigh of yours merely filled in the place before going to sleep. You wouldn't go to Miguel’s, a trip to knowing a new place was far more interesting than dealing with whatever was bothering him. A bit of regret for offering previous help cocooned into your head.

----

The biological clock in you, got you used to wake up at 7, made you to rose from bed, put some of that new international blend coffee you had bought yesterday to simmer; then you'd move to clean up the little mess in the kitchen you had done last night: a plate, a fork and a strawberry printed glass.

You then organized your toiletries in the bathroom, and began a strict yet short skincare routine. Washing face, moisturizing, and sun blocking. Then you went to the closet, something you had promised yourself to always organize once you had the time.

You went for a pair of palazzos, a ruffled skirt and some pointy flats, but changed your mind last minute, and rather picked a brown jacket, black joggers, sneakers and a turtleneck shirt. Comfy for a day of walking around in a cool day.

At eight you had eaten breakfast, and if it wasn't for the door knocking, you could've washed the dishes again and probably take a shower. Momma standing in the doorway screamed a whole new plan. Hide or run.

"M-Mom."

"Hey baby." She hugged your surprised form and made herself at home. You held her purse as you closed the door.

"I-I was gonna call you yesterday but some stuffs just showed up and I forgot." The words rushing out of your mouth.

She cleared her throat and you snapped to put the purse next to her.

"Would you like something to drink?"

"A bit of coffee would be great"

Nodding you went to the kitchen, a tight and uncomfortable knot coiled tightly in your stomach, anxiety was just warming up.

"I see you're still having a hard time adjusting to this new... place." She observed as her eyes toured the livingroom. Your college books although lined up in the corner, still were in the floor along some other items. Like a small potted cactus and a collection of old DVDs.

" Oh... Im... just busy. That's all." You offered the cup of coffe, she took a sip and scrunched her nose. You just stood there, at lost on what to actually say. It was rare when they paid you a visit in college, and even then their stay were only a couple of hours.

"Too strong." She hummed in disapproval and your eyes casted away .

Here we go...

"You have some... interesting neighbors. Just saw a young man that I'm sure that wouldn't pass an airport check up for the many piercings in his face."

Your expression faltered at her sneering, a bit of frown in your eyebrows.

"He's a good person."

"I didn't say he wasn't darling, a little bit more of... normalcy wouldn't hurt him."

Your eyes darted away from her, your face now solemn.

"Uhm, I don't wanna sound rude but-"

"You have somewhere to go?"

"Yes. I... I actually do."

"Oh? Didn't know you had gotten yourself some real friends "

Your lips pursed, trying to keep her comments at bay.

"I'm working on it."

"I'm sure. I mean, pen pals don't actually count since you can't hang around-"

"Mom."

She sighed and pushed the cup away. Your cue to retrieve it, like the coffee had offended her greatly.

"A little visit at home wouldn't bad for you, you know? We miss you."

We sounded pretty much a one sided word. You put the cup on the sink, not truly wanting to engage into her game.

"I promise to visit as soon as I can." The flatness in your tone could be tasted miles away

"That's what you said two months ago, sweetie."

"I wasn't having as much free time as you think I am, mom. There was this new campaign... and I was ontop of it." you back still facing her.

The fortress shook.

"Ah, honey. I know your job is frustrating and quite busy, but a little hello mom, I'm fine. Can I stay for weekend?, wouldn't harm you. Just look at you, it's okay to be an stress eater, but you have to keep your mouth in check."

The stab was dug deeper. Your fortress was now crumbling.

"You know I worry about you, right?

What a fucked up way to show it.

You just nodded, dread creeping up your face as she pushed a strand of hair behind your pierced ear. You flinched, it was still tender.

"What is that?"

"Nothing. Just something stupid-"

She cupped your cheeks softly and you froze, she took a long and dispraising look at it as she sighed.

"Jesus, it's just a stupid piercing! Don't worry about it."

You pried yourself away from her touch, like her hands had burnt you.

She frowned

"Anyone with a respectable reputation in your workplace could see you not fit-"

"Not fit for what, mom?" Your fingers pinched your nose bridge. Anger simmering below the surface.

"You are meeting important people, honey. You can't go around looking like that. You must look-"

"Perfect." You nearly seethed the word, "I know."

You poured the coffee on the sink. She just watched you for a second. Your hands scrubbing the lipstick stain off the cup furiously she was surprised that the thing didn't break in your hands. She just sighed and grabbed her purse.

"If you want, I could help you getting this place-"

"I'll take care of it." voice firmer than you had intended to.

Her eyes remained on you for a bit too long and then she nodded.

"Call us, okay?" You opened the door for her, eyes refusing to meet her.

"Love you, cupcake"

"I know."

The words bitter tasting in your tongue as they rolled off. The door closed and your fortress was in shambles.

Your mouth exhaled a shaky and almost whimpering breath. You needed to escape, your little world had been compromised and you weren't sure to stand the emotional chaos that was left. Everything you had built was now on the floor, just like your overall mood.

Normalcy? Stress eater? Perfect? You were sure none of those applied to you.

The battlefield had alot of your hurt and blood sprawled all over it, your face was still smeared by a forceful and imposing touch that was devoid of kindness as the knife she had plunged remained deep in your chest.

You didn't know exactly where this attitude and perfectionism had came, but ever since you had turned into a certain age, she'd give little comments here and there that would eventually lead you to your current state. Fucked up, yet moisturized. God, you couldn't wait to be home again and cry your hearts contempt.

Laughing almost bitterly at the realization that you now had to schedule your emotions accordingly. At least you still felt something. And right now, you just wanted to go back to bed and cry, the battle hadn't reached your safest spot, something you were grateful for.

Heart pounded miles per hour, chest constricting and head spinning made you support at the kitchen's sink. Pain pricked your eyes, but a still rational part of you grounded you with a deep exhale. You showered and got ready. Filled in your portable mug with coffee and left.

You had bought a little blt sandwich in the way, you parked and blinked away the stubborn tears that refused to leave without being shed. Patting a bit too rough your cheeks you took the mug, secured the car and went up the elevator.

Nervousness too preoccupied with it's own business to show up, a subtle anger had taken over. Miguel's doorbell was rang.

You looked at your phone's clock. 10 am.

The door opened and you were met with a surprised then a mild furrowing glance. His mouth went ajar but quickly shut it. The words he intended saying, died before anything as he studied your face. Nose a bit red from the previous sniffling.

"Come in." He'd mumbled and you entered, making your way to your work spot as last time. To your surprise his place looked a mess. Some clothes sprawled on his couch, a couple of dirty dishes on his sink, Curtains drawn in, place felt heavy and fusty.

"Go to the living room."

"Same as last time?"

"Pretty much, Yeah." He'd notice the metallic coffee flask on your hands. There was no coffee for him this time.

"You hungry?"

"Already had breakfast. Thanks." You went to the living room and began working. You were avoiding his stare as much as you could, any contact really.

He sat on the couch as you were already organizing files. A million questions popped up in his mind. Why had you stopped messaging him? You seemed unbothered by that, but rather hassled by something else.

Your pouty lips, set in a neutral line, eyes way too gone in a place he couldn't get permission to access just yet, your movements smooth yet void of the remarks you'd do of his work. There was no information sharing, no feedback. No praising from your end. Just silence.

He exhaled and focused on his share of files. You were usually the one that started the little conversations between the both, but after those two weeks of silence from your end, he would expect you asking him the why's and the like. And not that he'd remain silent. He had a valid excuse.

He'd be jumbled up in a room with a new working team as you were messaging him, all of them made noise, noise as in irrelevant ideas and complaining about the new upcoming project but none really offered solutions. He had been annoyed, greatly. His anger was misdirected and now he was neck deep in this predicament.

"Are you angry?" The question itself was stupid, he knew much, but it was the only sort of conclusion his million dollar brain could come up with.

"No." A half truth, "I just happen to have my own problems too." Snappy. He raised an eyebrow to you, genuine confusion on it.

"Besides, I'm just rolling with what you said"

What he had said? The only interaction you had was the text... Oh. Realization hit him like a gloved slap on his face. He went on your message log and reviewed the conversation again.

—That pretty much sums it up

I see—

Fuck. You had taken his words at heart and had just left him be. An apology, that's what you needed, so maybe the heavy and dementor-like aura that irradiated from you would dissipate. What had happened? Cause anything that would make you come here, instead of being somewhere else, had to be grave enough to force yourself in this situation with him.

His belly grumbled after a couple of hours.

"Feeling hungry?" You shook your head

"Got my own lunch, thanks."

Another ammo wasted. His eyebrows knitted together a bit deeper. You were almost done with the first file.

"You should eat."

"I'm not hungry yet." At least you were talking. Barely glancing his way but talking. He ordered some food and finished his file.

He could do it on his own, really, the I need help sort of thing was just a bait to see if you'd still be around. These two weeks had been draining and antsy for him. At first he thought nothing of you, maybe you got busy as well. But as the silence kept stretching, things just spiraled between concern and vexation for him.

Concern because it was usually you the one that most, if not always started the little conversations between the both. They weren't precisely both ways, he also noted, mostly of him replying to whatever random question you'd pop him. But engaging completely, it was only when you were face to face, and even so, he'd still keep you on the surface.

And then, the vexation of the sudden realization of you growing tired of him, for real this time, had sent him reeling into over thinking when the answer you gave him was pretty simple.

I'm just rolling with what you said.

And still everything he had to do was to text back. Yet he didn't.

The fact that you could adapt easily on his words made him both impressed yet again, concerned. You took things at heart. He had to be specific and clear when it came to communicating with you. Great.

You weren't precisely a parrot around him, but the silence you could devote yourself was quite out of your amiable persona. You were snappy, teary eyed, closed off, shut down. You had definitely came here in order to escape from something.

A boyfriend? The thought made him chuckle inwardly, so far what you had told him about yourself quickly erased the idea. Of course he'd listen and pay attention. He just didn't know exactly what to pry from you. He wasn't making an effort in keeping you around either.

Meaning, that he'd always act aloof and detached around people that would eventually leave his life.

Assumptions, really.

He didn't know when that would happen and he was already making sure to severe ties. Coping perhaps? He didn't even know. All that he was certain of was that you weren't yourself and that was partially thanks to him.

His mouth was about to speak when your hand put a strand of hair behind your ear. Three hooped earrings adorning the upper lobe. And by the redness around each pierce, he'd say it was recent. Was this how you faced your problems? Inflicting pain on yourself?

He frowned.

"That's new." Uncertainty just pushed him into a brash mode that eventually would lead him into lash out when cornered. And right now you were leaving him with little options

Your eyes trailed to him, as he gestured over his ear. The piercings. Right.

"Did it yesterday."

"Does it hurts?"

You shook your head as you went for the other file.

"Hobie is a pro at it."

Hobie?

His eyes squinted trying to remember.

The punk guy you had for a neighbor, of course. It was a little too cliché, perhaps.

"Why three and not just one?"

"I wanted to, alright?"

You snapped and he held his hands in defense.

Jesus..

You sighed and shook your head.

"Sorry, just... Nevermind that. Can we focus on working, please?"

A clear I don't wanna talk about it. Or more like I don't wanna talk.

"Sure."

-----

Your phone buzzed as you were transferring the files to him. The name

' Lucio Work' displayed on your screen.

"Excuse me." You stood up from the floor and picked up the call.

From what he could see, you were tense. Arms tightly wrapped around you, like shielding yourself from anything that would hurt you further. Your back turned to him.

"No, it's fine. Really. Will check that up as soon as I get home." Your voice flat, absentminded as you focused on the floor.

"Right. Bye."

A deep sigh.

"I must go."

"It's fine, you finished early anyways."

You stared at him, waiting.

I'm sorry.

His eyes sized you. His lips trapping the apology, and that only made your hands tighten in fist briefly. You picked up your flask and the half eaten sandwich. This time you made sure your tools were with you.

"Guapa..." you felt anything but. You needed air, space even from the suffocating feeling on your chest. And needed it now.

"I-I gotta go." You hands fumbled with your belongings as you rushed to his door. Escaping. Again.

"Wait-"

You were gone. His hands were placed on his waist. There was no apology, but a wider rift between you. He sighed again, for the umpteenth time. He had fucked up.

----

Entering home felt returning to the aftermaths of a lost war. Cold empty space, the drip dropping of the kitchen sink was the only thing that made an effort to acknowledge your arrival. You pulled out the remnants of the BLT and ate just the bacon, discarding the soggy rest.

Your head pounded. Miguel’s eyes popped in your mind. He looked like he had the apology on the tip of his tongue, but pride was bigger than him. Expectations were set incredibly high only to be crushed later. It was the cherry ontop of a messy cake.

You made your way to your bedroom to transform yourself into a more comfy appearance. Hair pulled up in a messy bun as you removed bit by bit your clothes, leaving yourself naked before the mirror.

Flawed.

Your hands explored, prodded and touched your skin. The feeling of unpleasant textures under the pads of your fingertips made you turn away from the reflection. Baggy and comfortable clothes covered them.

Your night ended with the usual meal prep of the week, and of course you finally organizing the closet.

-----

You didn't call your parents. Instead just focused on the screen before you, typing bemused at information you knew by heart. Another brief, another little campaign to create.

Another day, the silence kept stretching on both ends. Your situationship with Miguel certainly offered more questions than answers. Like you had been threading carefully around him, unable to access to a different sort of level With him, it's what he allowed you to see. But you, had also just showed him what you let on.

You were even. And still, you didn't give in. Just shoved the telephone back in your tote bag, without realizing his chat's name appeared as "typing".

Your day went uneventful, unaware of your raging inner turmoil, not that it mattered anyways. The time and world had never stopped over broken hearts or minds, why would they stop now?

Lunch felt stale despite you adding a little vinaigrette to the salad you had packed. It's what you would be eating for the next five days.

You went home around five. The place still in hypothetical shambles from the previous encounter with a boss out of your expertise. You were yet to fix so many things. Some stuffs that would probably still in boxes ever since you moved in.

You changed once more in a humble appearance and pulled out the packaged furniture. Appetite was mess, you had ate, but it set heavily on your stomach.

Bit by bit you started to unpack and pull piece by piece. A little bag of screws and a screwdriver fell out of the rectangular box, along the user manual.

It couldn't be that hard right?

----

Two hours of pure nothing. Your fingertips were sore by the pressure you had applied on the screws, only for it to be assembled in the wrong way. You kicked it away from you. Angry tears just bursted from your eyes.

The user manual crumpled and thrown away somewhere. You curled up in the floor, face hid between your arms and legs.

Why you were so stressed? why you weren't perfect? Why you struggled so much to stand your ground against your mother? Why wasn't Miguel a less complicated guy?

Why? Why why?

You were tired of the whys and the little to no answers they provided you. You dreaded the call your angry mother would do in a couple of weeks after not hearing from you again. You dreaded the campaign not being as successful as your other ones. You dreaded the next rent payment. You dreaded to cry to yourself to sleep again, cause there was none to bask in your misery with, but yourself.

The knowing yet still horrifying conclusion that you were irrelevant in people's lives, didn't help at the hopelessness feeling that was nesting on your chest. You had always been that unremarkable NPC that just minded her business and let life happen around her.

It was sometimes of your wonder what kind of person you would've been if some things would've displayed different for you. Would you still be an expensive doll? Would you still work in a fancy world that the only term that actually applied to it was shallow?

You braced yourself.

Numbness spreading through.

But of course, only for tonight since you had to offer your best smile every day. It was part of the looks.

Your door was knocked.

Caked tears were wiped away the best as you could, as you made your way towards it. A little rustling from the other side. You sniffed and opened the door. Eyes widening at the person behind it. Miguel.

Mahogany eyes seized you, a painful twist in his heart at the sight. You were a complete different person from what he was used to see. Unkempt, wet shirt probably from the tears you had certainly been crying, puffy eyes, swollen lips and nose. A shirt his size probably, hiding the body he had already tasted twice.

Your lip trembling made him swallow.

"May I come in?"

His voice soft. He held a brown paper bag in one hand and his lab coat and ID in the other.

You wiped your eyes before letting him in. His scanned the place. Half assembled furnace thrown hapzardly on the floor, screws and other tools rested in a bag. A few holes on the cardboard packing, like you had stabbed the screwdriver through it. You sat in the further wall, resuming your task of picking up the fallen smaller pieces.

Sidling through the living room, he stopped at the couch. He put his lab coat on it and then pulled the paper bag closer, his feet took him where you were.

"Why are you here, Miguel?"

Your words held no malice but pure curiosity although your voice was deflated.

"Here." He offered you the paper bag. He saw your hands hesitating, not that he blamed you though. But eventually you accepted it. He had to bend over to place it on your hands.

"It's for you." He breathed as his arms rested at his sides.

You pulled a small golden box with a colorful arrange of macarons, colors that matched your color aesthetic. Red, browns, white, blue and of course black. A little piece of paper tucked in the left.

Sorry

The words scribbled by himself. His penmanship was usually hurried and doodle like, something you had noticed from the annotations in the files you had helped him with. But this seemed different, he had taken his time on it. Legible and solid.

He studied your face, so far there was nothing that gave out any sign of hostility. Just pure surprise and of course, sadness.

"Though you'd like it." He cleared his throat, "I... owe you an apology"

Hearing the words from his mouth only made you blink at him, face flushed by the constant burn in your eyes, lower lip quivered, bloodshot eyes, to finally let fat tears roll down. He tensed.

You didn't like it?

His hands fisted and relaxed as you cried, unsure to make a much more personal approach. He pushed a couple of pieces of whatever furnace you were trying to assemble, away from his path and soon, he crouched to finally sit next to you. His frame engulfing the space.

"I'm sorry. All I had to do was to text back, right?"

You nodded through a hiccup. Then wiped your face.

"Here." He offered his handkerchief as he reached for the crumpled user manual.

"Leave that. I'm not doing it." you croaked, trying to find a steady tone in your voice

"It's kind of the same one I have."

Sighing you just shrugged and let him. Your knees supported your arms, as your chin rested in one of them, the other one, was above your head. Like a self comforting gesture.

"I was... in a meeting. A pretty fucking annoying one, when you texted."

Your eyes darted to him, but stared back at the wall. Matching your current mood. Dry and dull.

"I know work is your main priority, I shouldn't pester you either. I wasn't giving you the silent treatment. Felt the opposite really. So I just... stopped reaching out"

His lips gave a weak chuckle, to then disarm what you had done with the furnace. Your words were simple, yet pithy. Miscommunication was the culprit. And he had encouraged it to get this far.

You remained quiet, fixing your glance in the red macaron.

"At first I knew you were busy too. But... then the silence kept going. Kinda reminded me when you suddenly vanished those years ago."

"Im sorry too. Shouldn't have been so... upset and snappy at your own home"

"I caused it." He shrugged

"Partially. I didn't want you to think I was clingy or somehow desperate."

He shook his head with a stifled laugh.

"You're good company too. But guess I just read wrong between lines, like usual. It's... stupid really. My bad for that" you rubbed your temple.

"What are you talking about?"

"I... thought that I was making you uncomfortable or that you were annoyed"

His head shook.

"Trust me, is more like a me problem than anything. But no. It wasn't that"

"The reason I started messaging you really was cause, you're nice to talk to. I mean, sure you take a lot of time, and barely speak, but you aren't... a complete idiot. But then you sent that last text"

You chuckled as he begun assembling the shelf.

"Not the best idea I've had so far." He secured the base.

"May I know what happened before you showed up?"

You stared at him, a bit taken aback that he'd notice such thing.

You groaned and shook your head.

"Mom happened."

His eyebrow quirked but just nodded. Not prying further. You focused on helping him, the little shelf slowly coming to life. A little of your shambled fortress, restored and fortified.

"I hope that piercing your body doesn't turns into a habit"

"Oh?"

"There's better ways to let it out, that's all I'm saying" You chuckled and rolled your eyes.

"Relax, I had wanted to do this ever since I was in college."

"Why now though?"

"Saw the chance, took it." you shrugged

"Quite impulsive"

"It was that or give myself a pixie cut"

His eyes were on you and you sighed

"Of course I am joking."

Not even you were that convinced.

"What about hobbies?

"I have some. Well, started one recently. Knitting is calming. And I've been wandering the city, looking for new places"

"Get me the other bag, please"

Your tears had subsided, your hand gave him the bag full of more screws and little rubber lids to prevent sliding, still, there was a bit of heavy aura hanging in the air.

"Do you have any hobbies, Miguel?"

"I guess"

"Like?."

"Reading. How come you've been wandering the city alone?"

"It's... cathartic. That's what I've been doing these past two weeks. I... I wasn't showing up on Sunday actually, but again... Mother happened."

"Do you wanna talk about that?"

"No."

A way too quick response.

"Maybe... later or in a future." You sighed and watched his hands work.

"Family is complicated" He grunted as he secured the last bits of shelf's final part.

"Loving them is... overrated" His eyes snapped at you, a knowing yet silent nod on his eyes.

He stood and helped you as well, then, pulled the shelf up. It was bigger than you had actually anticipated, at least one thing was out of the way and you wouldn't have to bend over to pick up your books anymore.

You begun organizing them. Your living room was small. A single L couch stuck to the wall, a window on the bottom wall, sparse furniture, a TV stand with no portraits of yourself or any family really, and now the shelf that was being filled in with things. The door at the bottom was your bedroom he supposed.

Compact, yet cozy. It suited you.

He went through some files, pictures of your previous work campaigns on his hands. Quite profesional looking. Of course they had to be, it was your job to create these sort of pieces, a little understanding of why you always looked straight out of a magazine came to him.

A job requirement. And of course you'd accomplish that to a t. Kinda reminded him of your college years. Unremarkable socialité, but good at what you were studying for. The pictures reflected it.

He took another file and saw little Polaroid format printed pictures. It was all the places you had visited so far. The pictures gave him a little glimpse of things you enjoyed. You weren't one for too strict routines, You could adapt, but still would need a little spark to keep yourself grounded.

Wandering the city was like an anchor for you. Tea bars, bakeries, a thrift shop that surely had some characters in it. The liqueur shop. And of course, Hobie's workplace.

He could recognize the bakery's desserts. It was the one he got your macarons from. One was missing from the box. It made his lips curve softly.

"You have talent."

You blinked at him as he went through more folders of pictures.

"Oh... thanks?. I really enjoyed that class"

"You should publish them."

"Can't do that, they're confidential until a campaign is ready to be launched. You aren't supposed to be even looking at them actually. Might open a photography profile though, just for fun." You shrugged as you accommodated your reading books.

"You like it?"

"Yeah. I'm more invested in the knitting though"

"How's that going?"

"I'll get there." your lips mumbled.

You then offered a canned soda.

"I know this place." He pointed at the pictures of the bakery.

"Oh, yeah, they're good." You put the DVDs in a different shelf.

"They have these delicious mini cakes called petit fours. But I stay with Julien's Potions."

"What's that?"

You showed him the pictures of the Tea bar. His eyes scanned the images with mild amuse.

"Is it good?"

"Very. The mango muffin is just heavenly"

"Would you like to go?" He stared at you, voice gentle, just as his face.

You looked up at him with big eyes. A little spark of excitement in them. Finally the heavy aura dissipated.

"Are... Are you sure? I mean, your work is demanding and-"

"After work, guapa. We can go."

"Really? I... don't want you to do this out of... pity or anything. It's fine, really-"

"Im not."

"Promise?"

His eyes softened at your smile.

"Te lo prometo." (Promise)

-----

Taglist:

Apologies if I forgot someone (For some reason Tumblr won't let me tag some of you :<)

@jkthinkstoomuch @queenofroses22 @del-lightfulling @katitakenway @amylasagna @rositabluemoon @lyrasdrawer @plumplumpurin @damhanallagorm @chibiiichann

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #atsv miguel #bad teachings #t writes✨#spiderman 2099 x reader #astv miguel #Spotify

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megamindsecretlair · 3 months

Text

The King and I, Part 5

Pairing: King Ghezo x Virgin!Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. SMUT AND FLUFF. Fingering (fem receiving) and oral (male receiving), breeding kink if you squint, all consensual. Doesn't follow canon of the movie.

Summary: Time has passed. Enough time for your heart and head to catch up to each other. You found room in your heart to accept the King's love and accept your new life. And there's no place else you'd rather be.

Word Count: 3,169k

A/N: The final part! Ahh! I debated if I should add some more drama in here, but I'm just not that great at angst. I just want some sweet fluff and lovin' LOL. Thank you, thank you, thank you for reading and supporting this idea. I love ya'll, more than words can ever say! Please, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! And please put ages in bios! Or get blockt!

Masterlist | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Taglist: @planetblaque @browngirldominion @notapradagurl7 @honeyoriginalz @gg-trini @eggnox @naj-ay444 @sheepywritesfics @westside-rot @twocentuar @pinkpantheris @tchallasbabymama @sevikasblackgf @slippinninque @abeautifulmindexposed @neawarren @monaeesstuff @blackerthings @melaninpov @1-800anklebully @mogul93 @softimgyu @henneseyhoe @blowmymbackout @softscorpio17 @theunsweetenedtruth @we-outsiiiide @thecookiebratz @badassdoll @kinginwithbreezy-blog @chrishy973 @skyesthebomb @blackelysian @yayasworldview @wakandamama @thadelightfulone @iv0rysoap @puppykitt

Six Months Later…

“Our husband has been away too long,” Sade said. She wobbled in the sun room, finding a seat next to the window where the sun hit the chair just right. She was further along than Ayi and you and she was not taking to it well.

Truth be told, neither were you. You were only four months, your belly starting to harden and your breasts getting more sensitive with every passing day. You were excited, hoping you’d give the King a son, but you’d be happy with a healthy baby either way.

Ayi was behind both of you, but she was used to this part. Her sons played near her feet with carved wooden blocks. “Probably has something to do with the Oyo, again,” she said.

“Filthy pigs,” you spat. You sat closest to Ayi and you looked down at her sons, wondering if your own children would favor the King too. How was it that women did all the work growing the little miracles and they turned out looking like their father anyway? Couldn’t women get a little more credit?

Watching Ayi with her children made your heart ache. You tried to stop thinking of your parents. That life was over forever. You would never see them again and you truly hoped that your father did not give you a little sister. You’d mourn for that child till the end of your days.

“We should ambush him,” Sade said.

“Tackle him in this state? You can barely make it to the door,” Ayi said and snickered. Sade playfully pouted and looked around for something to throw. Coming up empty, she sighed against the cushioned seat and kicked her legs out.

“I think he gave me an elephant and not a baby,” she said, love shining through her words as she stroked her belly.

“Two elephants,” you said, rubbing your own belly. You couldn’t help it. You wanted to meet them already!

“The King grows an army, not children,” Ayi said, looking down at her sons. “They are too damn big!”

You all erupted in riotous laughter, dissolving into fits and giggles as you pictured a giant army of the King’s children. The King himself was larger than life, why should his children be any different?

“We should ambush him, he’s been working too hard,” you said when you were all done laughing.

“How about a picnic? We used to have them often before the children and his duties increased,” Ayi said.

“Oh, I love that! I can ask the kitchen to make his favorites,” Sade said.

“We can use the main garden too!” Ayi said. “I’ll find some blankets big enough for all of us.”

“I’ll make sure he comes,” you said. You grinned thinking of just how you were going to keep him distracted long enough to not notice where you were taking him. Maybe a little teasing was in order.

After what he did last night, you were entitled to a little payback.

“This afternoon?” Sade asked.

“Wouldn’t be an ambush if we scheduled it,” Ayi said with a smile. She climbed out of her chair with ease, heading to the door to summon some servants to take the children for their lessons.

“See you later, my evil sisters,” Ayi said and rubbed her hands together. Her ringing laughter could be heard all the way down the hall while she went in search of blankets. Sade was struggling to get out of her chair so you got up and helped pull her up.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to get the kitchen started?” You asked.

She waved her hand. “It’s just a little pregnancy, I will be fine,” she said and giggled. You looped your hand around her elbow and helped steady her to the door.

She made a soft noise that made you look at her face. She had a small frown that worried you. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“I’ll be a good mother, right? I see Ayi and she looks like she just has it all down so easily,” she said.

“You will be a great mother. Why would you ask that?” You asked. Over the last few months, you tried your hardest to approach Sade with an open mind. It wasn’t her fault that she was traded to another man like property. All in all, if she had to go to anyone, you were glad it was someone as fair as the King. It could have been much, much worse.

“My mother…my mother was a handful. Demanding, mean, and nothing ever satisfied her. I don’t want to be like her,” she said. She turned watery eyes to you and you pulled her into a hug. It was a little awkward considering the state of your bellies, but you managed to wrap her in your arms.

You kissed her cheek and looked her in the eyes. “You will not be your mother. I will not be like mine either. We have each other. We’re sisters,” you said.

Words you never thought would come out of your mouth. When you were forced to deal with your feelings, staring at the crossroads between remaining selfish and reaching out a welcoming hand, you realized that it wasn’t her that you hated. You hated the notion that you’d have to compete for the King’s love like you had to compete for love at home.

That you were subjected to another life of trying to be perfect only to have it thrown back in your face, efforts wasted and unappreciated. You thought that more wives meant less time for you. And yes, you were selfish with that time. You craved it.

But there was no need. The King could not spend every waking moment with you, true. But you were free to stand on your own two feet for once in your life. There was no fighting here. There was no need to guard yourself or your heart every passing moment.

And you fell more and more in love with the King as you realized what a gift he gave you. You were the one who reached out to Sade to learn more about her and her kingdom. Her family. Her customs. You all enjoyed breakfast together and forged a deep sisterhood you had been craving since you came into this world.

You were not alone.

Sade smiled and wobbled off down the hallway in search of the kitchens. If you knew your husband, by this time today, he was in the council meeting discussing the security of Dahomey. That was always the topic of the meetings. Blessfully, since you were all with child, you were spared from attending if you didn’t want to.

You set off in that direction, clashes of steel and spears reaching your ears from the training yards. You were spared from the heat of the sun, but the air was still thick with it. Your purple dress had to be let out to accommodate your growing belly and it swished across your ankles as you walked.

The closer you got to the council room, the louder your husband’s voice boomed from within. You approached carefully, looking around the corner. Your husband paced the room arguing with one of the council members about what to do with the Oyo prisoners. Your husband looked stressed, rubbing his neck and arguing back.

Definitely time for a break.

“Husband!” You called out. You rushed into the room, holding your stomach.

“My Queen,” King Ghezo said. He crossed the room in an instant and grabbed your hands, pulling you into his strong embrace.

“Something hurts, I-I don’t know what to do,” you said. You turned doe eyes toward him, poking out your bottom lip and let it quiver for maximum effect.

“I’ll call the doctor,” he said.

“No! I just want you, please?” You pleaded with your eyes that it was him or no one else. He looked torn, looking back at the council meeting.

“Why don’t we break for the day,” one of the members said. The rest agreed and began to pack up. You could tell they were reluctant to do it but you didn’t care.

“What is it, my love?” The King asked. He placed his hand on your stomach and looked into your eyes with such concern, you almost felt guilty about your little fib.

“I’m sorry about your meeting,” you said.

He smiled. “We were going nowhere fast. Are you in pain?” He asked.

“Yes, so much pain! Maybe I need to lie down,” you said.

“Come then, we’ll make sure you rest,” he said. He held your hand and walked you out of the council room and down the hall towards your room.

Now…to keep him occupied…many scenarios ran through your head. You had become quite the talker here using every opportunity to discuss things like literature and philosophy with the king. Such things you were not permitted to discuss before.

However, you were still greedy for your time with him. Besides jokes and the occasional overshare, you and the other wives had agreed to keep your personal time private. What you did with the King was between you two. And right now…

You pulled him into your room and locked the door behind you. He walked over to the bed but you stopped him. He gave you a funny look.

“Did you change your mind? Do you want a doctor?” He asked.

You grinned and shook your head. Since learning about this particular move, you employed it often. The King always said that you didn’t have to if you were unaccustomed to it. But it was a perfect way to let him know how much he meant to you. To even begin to repay all that he had done for you.

You pushed him backwards until his legs hit the bed. You tugged on his golden trousers, moving them down off his hips. You didn’t have too long until the others were ready, but this would be a great distraction.

His hands stopped you. “Are you not in pain?” He asked.

“I have a pretty big ache. Only you can fill it, my love,” you said. You pecked his lips as you freed his dick. When the cool air reached him, he hissed. When you palmed him, he groaned.

You stroked his dick, slowly, running your fingers across the length of him. His voice grew rougher. “My devious Queen,” he said with a strained chuckle.

“You’ve been working too hard, husband,” you said. You used your other hand to push his open robes off of him. The material fell to the floor revealing the expanse of his body. You licked your lips, wishing you had more time to fully explore him before your stomach got in the way.

“Have I neglected you? Forgive me?” He asked.

You pushed him onto the bed. He bounced lightly but then scooted to the edge and spread his legs. You knelt down and placed your hands on his thighs. His dick twitched mere inches from your face.

“There is nothing to forgive, husband,” you said. “I only wish you’d take care of yourself more.”

You wrapped your lips around his dick and licked the tip of his dick. He sighed and leaned back on his arms to steady himself. You looked up at the pleasure on his face. Pleasure you were giving him. Your heart burned in your chest with pride and satisfaction that you could do this for him.

You reached your right hand down to fondle his balls. His hips jerked off of the bed. “I should not have taught you that,” he groaned.

You squeezed the heavier one, rolling it between your fingers. He continued to moan and praise you as you sucked him. Your slobber coated his dick and ran down the length of him. You took him all the way to the back of your throat before releasing him to catch your breath.

“You beautiful Queen,” he sighed. His hips continued to jerk. He wanted to grab your head and push you down further and faster. You could tell by the way he flexed his hand on the bed. Gathering your blanket in his fists.

You shifted on the floor to find a better angle and then you took him how you knew he liked. Your head bounced up and down faster, spit mixing with the saltiness of his precum, and sucked him down as much as you were able. He was so thick, he stretched your mouth.

Your pussy ached with an emptiness that always stole your breath. One minute, you could be fine and going about your day. Until you remembered the delicious burn of him sliding in and out of you. Holding you to him and whispering how much he loved you. Craved you. How he thought of your voice often.

“I’m close,” he groaned.

You sucked him harder. You gagged on his dick until he was screaming out his release. You swallowed his climax until he was completely empty and throbbing inside your mouth. You moaned around him and began to slowly withdraw him from your mouth.

He made the most adorable, tortured sounds as you licked the underside of his dick. He was still sensitive and his eyes were crossing.

“You tease,” he moaned and licked his lips.

You finally let him go and wiped corners of your mouth. He helped you stand and then placed his hands on your hips and looked up at you. You played with his beard and fanned your thumbs across his cheeks.

“How do you always know exactly what I need? Hm?” He asked.

“Because I need it far more than you. I like seeing you like this. Relaxed,” you said. You stroked his forehead, smoothing away the worry lines there. He dealt with so much. It was expected of him, but you didn’t care what others said. He did not have to die in service to this kingdom. The kingdom needed him here, alive and safe while he protected them.

He made you sit in his lap. “I have another surprise for you, husband. We will be late,” you said.

“Do you expect me to steal my pleasure from you and not give any in return?”

“It is not stealing if I give it freely,” you said. You settled onto his lap. He pulled up your dress until he exposed your pussy. He pulled it a little higher revealing your rounded belly.

He kissed your stomach and his lips lingered a second too long. “You are a treasure,” he said.

He looked up at you. “You are everything to me,” he said. You grinned and kissed him. As you did so, his fingers explored your damp curls.

The more his gorgeous lips met yours, the wetter you got. You were flooding his fingers by the time he pulled away from your lips.

“You are so beautiful. More beautiful carrying my child,” he said.

You moaned and nuzzled his nose. “As soon as you’ve had your rest, I will put more in there. I want you full of me all the time,” he said.

You giggled as he planted kisses along your jaw. “You can’t mean all of the time,” you said.

He slipped his finger deep inside you and made a come hither motion. You began to convulse on his fingers, body shaking uncontrollably. If it weren’t for his strong hand against your back holding you aloft, you would have fallen to the floor.

“All of the time. You are radiant with child,” he said. “So full of me. Full of life we created together.”

You cried out in his ear as you finally climaxed, thighs trembling. Your arms were wrapped around his neck, holding him close to you. This. This was where you always wanted to be. In his arms, safe and sound.

He kissed your jaw and neck, planted kisses above your breasts as you calmed down from such a powerful climax. You reluctantly climbed off of him.

“Come or we will truly be late!” You giggled as he tried to pull you back into his lap.

“Are you sure I cannot entice you to stay?” He asked.

“Don’t be cruel, you know I cannot resist you,” you said. You fixed your dress and he hung his head with a smile. He stood up and retrieved his clothes.

It was painfully obvious what you two had been up to, but well. You couldn’t help it. Looking somewhat presentable, you held hands with him as you walked down the hallway towards the palace gardens.

“Is this it? Have you finally decided to end my life?” He asked.

“Would I really answer yes?” You asked. He lifted an eyebrow at you and you grinned evilly. You placed your head on his shoulder.

“Husband, you are safe from me today,” you said.

He leaned down to kiss your forehead. “Where you are concerned, I am never safe,” he said. “You slay me where I stand with one look from you.”

You nudged him as you entered the gardens. Ayi and Sade were already there with Ayi’s sons. Three large blankets were spread out on the ground. Sade sat in the shade of the tree, leaning back on her hands.

“What is this?” King Ghezo asked as you approached.

“A picnic with your wives. You have been an absent husband,” Ayi said. She grinned at the two of you.

“Will you forgive me?” He asked.

“Only if you sit and support Sade. She will roll on out of here if you don’t,” Ayi said.

The King chuckled and kissed your hand. He helped you sit. Then he sat down in the shade, pulling Sade to lean against him instead. She sighed with relief and you grinned at the look on her face.

You shared a knowing look with Ayi. She took in your rumpled dress and the King’s wrinkled robe. You snatched a grape off of a plate in front of you and shrugged your shoulders. She was perfectly aware of how addictive the King was. She was on her third child with him.

The rest of the afternoon was spent with laughter and jokes. The King playfully admonished all of you for conspiring against him and neglecting his duties as King. Sade tapped his shoulder and said he deserved it.

“What good is being king if you cannot play whenever you want?” She asked.

And she was right. As the years passed, you kept up this tradition. Inviting more and more wives to picnic with you and King Ghezo. Babies were born many times over and still you reached out your hand to every single one of them.

All but perhaps one. His latest wife was a nightmare. Campaigning too hard to be Woman King. That was alright with the rest of you. The rest of you knew. Knew that deep down, all that mattered was that you had the King’s love and he had yours.

The Secret King Ghezo Files | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

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sailormoonrarepairweek · 6 months

Text

Welcome to the third annual Sailor Moon Rare Pair Week! The event will take place from March 24th - March 30th, 2024, but I'm announcing the themes early to give everyone plenty of time to create their fanworks.

What counts as a rare pair for this event, you ask? Any pairing that isn't Usagi/Mamoru (or any of their incarnations), pretty much! (Don’t get too hung up on the word “rare”. Just roll with it, okay?) They usually have their own week, so this event is a chance for fans to show their love for pairings other than the Miracle Romance, canon or not. You can even include poly, platonic, and cross-over ships, if you'd like! Almost anything goes, as long as you follow some simple guidelines.

Fanworks should somehow incorporate the one of the day's themes. (You can pick just one; you don't have to use both.) How you choose the interpret the theme is up to you!

A non-UsaMamo pair must be the MAIN focus of the work (although Usagi/Mamoru can appear as a side pairing or as part of a polycule).

All ratings allowed.

No smut involving underage characters, which I'm defining as under 18 years old. Otherwise, as long as the characters are portrayed as adults in the fanwork, go wild! Just please make sure to properly tag.

Pairings of all sexual/romantic orientations welcome.

Fanfics should be a minimum of 500 words. Poetry may be shorter, though. (If you would prefer to write drabbles instead, you can write five separate 100-word drabbles about the day's themes, but a day's entry should still be at least 500 words long. You have over four months until the week begins and plenty of time afterward if you don't finish in time. That's plenty of time to write 500 words. I don't think that's too much to ask.) If you're writing fanfic, I REALLY would prefer you post your fics on AO3 or Fanfiction.net and provide a link to your story, but if you must post on Tumblr itself, please make use of the "Read More" option.

Fanart should be a completed drawing. (Any fanart portraying nudity or anything of an R/NC-17 nature should be cropped if immediately visible on your Tumblr post and/or posted with the appropriate community label. You can post the full image under a "Read More" or provide a link to the image on another site.)

Graphics, image boards, playlists, cosplay photos, crafts, meta/essays, etc. are also welcome!

Comments, kudos, and reblogs are encouraged, but don't be a jerk! If you're not a fan of a pairing, please just ignore and move on.

On Tumblr, if you tag #smrarepairweek2024, I will reblog your post. I'll tag explict art and fics reblogs as #nsfw, so feel free to block that tag if you'd rather not see those posts.

Please do not post your works anywhere until the day dedicated to your chosen theme. An AO3 collection has now been set up for this year's event. (Adding your work to the collection will not be required.) If you'd like to look back at the last event's works, the 2023 collection can be found here.

And here is the 2022 collection.

Themes

Day 1: Magic/Mundane Day 2: Hugs/Kisses Day 3: Fire/Ice Day 4: Music/Silence Day 5: Birth/Death Day 6: Break-Up/Make-Up Day 7: Free

(Event Organizer: @kaleidodreams)

#sailor moon #sailor moon fanfiction #sailor moon fanart #smrarepairweek2024 #sailor moon rare pair week #rare pairs

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twistedgardens · 2 years

Text

Under the Table

Trey Clover being a horny bastard who can't keep his hands to himself at another Unbirthday Party

Content: public sex, fingering, exhibitionism, kinda slow burn (it takes a little while to get there but we get there eventually), a little dress up (I guess petticoats really do it for him, I guess)

🔞NSFW Content Below! 18+ Only! Minors DNI!🔞

Seriously, back off! You will be blocked on sight.

Like what you read? Please consider reblogging!

You were walking to Ramshackle when Trey stopped you in your tracks. He held out an invitation to you with a broad smile stretched across his face.

"Riddle wants to invite you to the Unbirthday Party this weekend," said Trey.

You take the envelope and open it. A small note was written on black and white cardstock. In elegant calligraphy, Riddle addressed you by name and extended a warm welcome to the tea party. Then apologized profusely for the late invitation. You supposed it was compensation for helping to save Riddle from himself when he overblotted.

"Wow. That's really nice of him, but I don't know if I should go. I don't have a thing to wear for the occasion."

"I can help you with that. Vil owes me a favor. I'm sure he can get you something appropriate to wear on short notice," said Trey.

"Well...if you insist." You were hesitant to accept any invitation when your wardrobe mostly consisted of previously owned uniforms and t-shirts to sleep in after some of the students took pity on you. Having Vil as a wardrobe currator sounded like a blessing...and a curse.

Trey walked in the opposite direction, seemingly confident in the fact that you'd show up no matter what sort of outfit he and Vil stuck you in. Excited yet a little anxious, you finished the rest of the trek "home," if you could call Ramshackle that. Grim greeted you with the usual bemoaning of how he was tired and hungry after being at school all day and promptly begged you for a can of tuna. Not wanting to hear him complain all the while you busied yourself with making your own dinner, you obliged. For the rest of the evening, you wondered just what sort of fashion-related shenanigans you were going to get up to if Vil fulfilled whatever favor he owed Trey.

True to his word, Vil did indeed have something for you to wear. When you were summoned suddenly to Pomefiore, you were curious. Vil pushed you behind a changing screen and handed you the garment, which included an assortment of frippery and accessories to go with it. It was a blue dress with short sleeves and the skirt was held up by a thousand yards of tulle in a petticoat. And here you were thinking Trey did something naughty and asked Vil to find the skimpiest outfit he could find. The outfit included a pair of black and white striped gloves, stockings in the same color way but in a diamond pattern, black Mary Janes with a decorative string of pearls and charms attached to the strap, and a black bow to go on your head.

"Well, come along. Let's see how it looks," said Vil.

Nervously, you stepped out from behind the screen. The heels scuffled across Vil's bedroom floor, much to his chagrin. Of course, not far away, Rook stood there too.

"Lift your feet when you're walking. Nobody likes a girl who shuffles her feet. Stand up straight, shoulders back, and now lift your chin," Vil ordered.

You'd think he was paying you to follow his instructions. You felt a little less like a fairy princess all dressed up and more like a dress up doll. Vil fluffed out your dress, being respectful as possible, to make sure the dress was sitting correctly on the petticoat. He continued to make small adjustments to your clothes until 'he', rather than you, was satisfied.

"Ah! Petite Mademoiselle Trickster! You look adorable. I'm sure that the Chevalier des Roses will be quite pleased with how you turned out!" Rook exclaimed.

"Who?" You asked.

"He means Trey Clover. Rook is in the habit of giving people all sorts of odd little nicknames. You'll get used to it," said Vil. "Now, for some final touches."

Vil half dragged you over to his vanity and had you sit in his velvet lined chair.

"Let's see if I can turn this sow's ear into a silk purse," said Vil as he began to prep his makeup brushes.

"Rude," you muttered.

After an hour or so of Vil applying just about anything he thought to "enhance your beauty," you were finally sent away. Rook guided you through the Heartslaybul's mirror and left the rest up to you. His final words were, "Good luck, mon amie! Chevalier des Roses is going to eat you up, I'm sure of it."

You tried not to pay any attention to his words. You made your way to the gardens where the Unbirthday Party was already underway. Given how you were the only lady on the entire campus and how you're trussed up, it would be a miracle if nobody noticed you. The opposite was very true as nearly every head turned towards you. Butterflies formed and swarmed inside your stomach. You were frozen to the spot.

"You're late," said Riddle. "Please be punctual next time."

"S-Sorry. I'll try."

"Woah. Prefect, you sure know how to clean up." Ace chuckled.

"Put a sock in it, Ace, or I'll tell Riddle how badly you failed that pop quiz last week in potions."

"What was that?" Riddle had paused in sipping his tea.

Before you could answer or redirect the scene, Trey pulled up the chair beside him.

"Y/N, I have your seat right here," said he.

You sauntered over. Riddle seemed to have forgotten your threat to Ace and turned his attention back to the party. You maneuvered with some difficulty between the chairs. It wasn't like back that you regularly, or at all, wore dress with some many layers underneath. The crinoline and tulle puffed up around your legs as you sat down on the chair. It was just a tad too small to handle all the poof of your dress, making for a slight squeeze.

"You look great," said Trey.

"I should hope so. Vil wouldn't let me leave until he was satisfied with my appearance."

"Yeah," Trey laughed nervously. "Sorry about that. He can be quite..."

"Exhausting?"

"Overzealous. But to be honest, I think you would have looked great even without makeup. I think he might have went a little overboard," said Trey. He leaned in towards you and whispered in your ear, "Though I don't mind it either."

Ignoring his light teasing, the Unbirthday Party appeared to be running smoothly. It's just that...a tiny voice inside your head was telling you that things were going too nice. Something was going to happen. You didn't know what it was, just that something might happen and there wasn't anything you could do to stop it. Plates of finger sandwiches, cakes, and tea were passed around. When you took a bite out of an apple tart, you felt Trey's hand skim over your dress and slip under it. He palmed your knee. Perfectly innocent, right? Well, maybe not perfectly innocent, but touching your knee wasn't anything too raunchy.

You could ignore that without a problem. Trey squeezed your knee and drew infinite circles on your leg without making you want to hide your face. This was fine.

You continued to eat and ignore his ministrations for the time being. You were hungry. Trey paused his movements to watch you eat and drink tea. When you were good and comfortable like a rabbit unaware of the hunter's trap, Trey leaned over and whispered in your ear.

"Is the dress the only thing Vil gave you to wear?"

"Wha--?"

Trey's hand skimmed higher up your leg to caress your upper thighs.

"No bloomers? Huh. i would have thought you'd wear extra protection. These dresses can be notorious for being to pull up, even without all the petticoats."

"Trey, don't be naughty." You hissed.

"But I thought you liked it when I teased you?" He chuckled.

His hand dove between your thighs. A long digit prodded at your panties right above your clit. You clapped a hand over your mouth as his finger continued to graze against that bundle of nerves.

"Is there something wrong, Y/N?" Asked Riddle.

You carefully removed your hand and shook your head. "N-No, everything's fine. I thought I felt a bug crawl up my leg. That's all."

Riddle's brow shot upwards, but he couldn't think of anything else to say. The party carried on as usual.

Thank goodness that the table cloth reached the ground so nobody could see Trey's hand under your dress. His long fingers tugged your underwear to the side and delved into pussy. All the while, he carried on a conversation with Riddle on the best methods to motivate the dorm to study harder and beat out the other dorms on the upcoming exams. They needed everyone to pass their courses with flying colors to climb over the grading curve. You couldn't help but drown out their voices while Trey added another finger. His thumb, calloused from all the work in the kitchen he did, rubbed circles on your clit. You bit down on the inside of your cheeks to keep yourself from crying aloud with pleasure.

Trey broke away from his conversation with Riddle and leaned towards you. His breath ghosted across your neck. You could feel him chuckle against your skin.

"T-Trey, you're being so mean." You whined.

"What am I doing that's so mean? Tell me what I'm wrong, sweet girl?"

"D-Don't pretend you...oh!" You clapped your hand over your mouth before you could moan any louder.

Trey's fingers picked up the pace. He added another as he thumb flicked your clit faster. You folded over and put your head on the table. Nobody should see your face right now. Everyone in the dorm is so absorbed in the party atmosphere that they quickly forgot that the only girl was there. You buried your face in your arms, regardless if or when Riddle lectured you about table manners. He'd overblot again if he knew what Trey was doing to you underneath the table.

Pleasure shot down your spine. Your thighs clamped down around Trey's hand while his fingers were still buried inside your cunt. You felt the pleasure crest and overpower your self-control. Wetness spilled between your legs along with Trey's trapped hand. The petticoat barely soaked up your cum. Trey chuckled. If you weren't so boneless, you'd punch him in the dick.

"Hey, Riddle, would you excuse me and Y/N for a moment? I don't think she's feeling too well?"

Riddle glanced around Trey to look at you. Your face was still half-buried in your arms on the table.

"You should probably take her to the infirmary. She doesn't look well at all," said Riddle.

"Thanks. I'll be back as soon as I can," said Trey.

Trey helped you to your feet. Slick ran down you legs despite your panties trying to soak it up. Trey walked behind you with a hand on your waist. You leaned on him as your legs struggled to carry you, no thanks to Trey.

"That was mean, Trey," you whined once you both were out of earshot.

The sounds of the tea party grew more and more distant as Trey guided you into the dormitory. You and Trey passed through the now-familiar, winding corridors. It didn't surprise you that he led you all the way to his room.

Opening the door, Trey said, "Ladies first."

The End...maybe?

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pro-sipper · 4 months

Note

(i totally get it if you don't wanna answer this ask, feel free to just delete it if i'm makin you uncomfortable or anything!)

i used to self-identify as an anti, but i've been reading through some more stuff on either tag and now i'm kinda unsure which label to use.

before my thinking was, "i don't want to be associated with anyone who find gratification in fictional portrayals of incestuous/pedophilic relationships (or anyone who would want their blog to act as a safe space for said people), and from what i've heard, that's what proshippers do. proshippers dni."

but see... aligning myself with the "kill yourself and die" people isn't much better. i'd really rather people didn't assume i send death threats OR think it's okay to ship siblings together, personally. i'd rather say with words what i think and who i don't want on my blog, but i'd also rather not get a million "are you a proshipper/anti?" asks constantly. because god knows people on this site can't read.

this whole thing is stupid. why must i pick one or be bombarded to pick one 24/7, and then bombarded some more for whichever one i do pick, even when i don't agree with either 100% completely. i just wanna post my funny guys man

My honest answer would just be ignore the haters and post your funny guys without worrying too much one way or the other! But if you'd like to read my thoughts a little more in depth...

I think most people don't care about, and think they're above pro/anti discourse. So if you just do your own thing, no one should care.

I don't ship siblings or anything else that would really raise any alarm bells, so I'm basically stealth proship on all my other blogs. I've even reblogged some very heavy proship posts that say everything about what we believe, minus the exact label "proship" and no one has sent me any asks saying like "umm what was this post about exactly..?" But that's just my experience.

At the end of the day, being proship is just about minding your own business and remembering that fiction is fiction. You don't have to be comfortable with everything out there (god knows I'm not) but you have to accept that avoiding it is your responsibility. Block the appropriate tags, turn back if you encounter something upsetting, and most of all do not harass whoever made it because they're well within their right to do so

But going back to what you said about proshippers... Like you said, "from what I've heard that's what proshippers do". I think it's important to recognize that some things you've heard could be misleading, depending on where they were coming from. Because most antis seem to think that proshippers are constantly one degree away from violent sexual real life crime when that just isn't the case.

Thought crimes are not real. Thinking bad things in your head doesn't make you a bad person. Your taste in fiction doesn't dictate the kind of person you are. All that matters is how you treat real people in real life.

#sip rambles #proship #proshippers #pro ship #proshippers please interact #proship safe #proshipper #proshipping #anon #asks

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felix-the-pup2 · 23 days

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Hi, my name is Felix! I'm a fat white autihd trans male system!

Think that about covers the important details about me .. Now, lets see.

DNI + BYF under read more

My original tumblr (@felix-the-pup) is unfortunately gone. Now I'm at this one. Anyone else claiming to be me is lying.

My tag "group howl" is for reblogs!

my tag "dogs meow" is for my posts!

my tag "evil mailman" is for asks!

my tag "pawart" is for my art!

my boyfriend is @maswoom!

BYF

I've OCD and (diagnosis pending) BPD, and it causes me to be rather obsessive towards characters (redirecting it to fictional characters makes it less likely to affect real people). I used to call myself a yandere when I was like, 15, and someone made a call out post on me over it. I didn't use it because I was ableist, I used it because I didn't know why I behaved the way I did (not realizing it was BPD).

If you think narcissists, schizophrenic people, sociopaths, and/or psychopaths are inherently evil, I really really hate you. I don't want anything to do with you if you genuinely believe that. I'm extremely serious.

I'm endo neutral. I think anti endo people are a bit harsh, but I understand the sentiment. At the end of the day, another system's origin is none of my business. I'm traumagenic, though.

I get uncomfortable when mutuals/friends of mine block me without notice, but you're obviously not required to tell me if you're going to block me. It is your choice to tell me, and your right if you decide not to. I'm just noting that that sort of thing makes me anxious.

You made it this far, so let me tell you that if you'd like to see my full carrd (which links to other accounts of mine) feel free to ask in dms!

#group howl #dogs meow #evil mailman #pawart

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wilchur · 3 days

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I don’t even go here but your replies to deepdragons were so needlessly hostile.

“If you found it so disrespectful then why didn’t you block me?” This is childish and hypocritical. If you found their take so bad, why did you go out of your way to go to their blog, find the post, and then argue with them? Why didn’t YOU block them first so you wouldn’t have to see their takes? Why do people need to block you, to actively prevent you from interacting with them entirely, for you to not be rude to them?

People will have shitty takes and you will not agree with every post you see — that’s the nature of fandom. You can’t control how other people post or think and that’s annoying, I get it, but YOU can control how you interact with others. The way you were speaking to that person was so needlessly rude and hostile. Is that how you speak to people in real life? I’m so curious as to what your goal was in talking to them like that. Surely it wasn’t to convince any one of anything. Who would want to agree with someone being so dickish and annoying about something as inconsequential as the politics of elven aging? So, what was all of that for? Did that make you happy or have you just riled yourself up? Do you feel like you accomplished something by speaking to someone like that?

I really hate when people tear others apart for being wrong about fandom things. If you were wrong about something, do you think you would appreciate someone talking to you in the way you spoke to deepdragons? Or would you rather they approach you with respect and understanding? Golden rule and all that, yeah?

You did not have to seek them out and you did not have to engage with them. Next time, either speak to others with respect or just make your own goddamn post. Not everything needs to be a debate.

I also find it funny how you were coming at them for not being faithful for the lore or whatever and then, when someone with more textual evidence than you rebutted your statements and called for you to back up your claims, you were like “I can’t be expected to cite all of my claims like an academic paper!!” Fucking lol. The onus of proof lies only with the people you disagree with, huh?

Have you seen the original post? I'm guessing not because then you'd know that my reply pretty much mirrored the exact condescending tone used by the OP. I also didn't "go out of my way" to do anything. I've said so before and I'll repeat it again: I got an error while reblogging the OG post, went to check the person's blog for what's up with that and the first thing I saw was them calling people stupid for pointing out that They're Not Correct. I already had the post written at that point and I simply copied it from one tab to another. This is the internet, you post something publicly people can and will interact with it unless you stop them. I didn't block the OP because at the time I did not give a shit if they interacted with me or not, I was just setting straight misinfo I see regurgitated over and over again to the point I'm sick of it. Because of the attitude they displayed I was actually fully expecting to get blocked straight away myself.

I'm not actually a dick unless someone annoys me into it. Because sometimes people get annoyed and they're rude, that's just how people work. But I guess you know that? Since you're annoyed at me and wrote a whole essay trying to make me feel bad?

And just to finish this off.. none of my statements were rebutted. I got lore dumped on and half of it wasn't even interpreted correctly from the linked books. Yes, I don't need to cite like it's an academic paper because all the goddamn info needed was already in my first post. Astarion was not a child because he was a grown ass man with a government job. There's no basis for "Ascended Vampires can't love" because Larian homebrews their vampires so the written lore doesn't apply. That's literally it. People on this site just can't fucking read.

#ask #anon

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bookishtheaterlover7 · 4 months

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Hii Hiiii Modyyy💜 I know we mostly call out anon hate, but there are some blogs that are just as bad as these anons. Like why are you calling CE names?! There is one blog in particular that does it all the time in every post and rant about the situation. The name calling and over-the-top soapbox posts is just…. Unhinged😬

If you think he's a dumb f… and have that much vitriol for him then why follow us and comment on almost every post??🙃🙃 I think it’s so weird and just wrong. I don't get it at all honestly, you think he’s so horrible and what he’s doing is so bad but continue to stick around calling him names? Wouldn’t you much rather spend that time on something better or someone more pleasing? 🫠Seems counterproductive to me. I hate to see it and it sucks too, because you block those blogs, but if they reblog something by a blog you follow you still unfortunately see their comments/posts which is irritating! 🙄😡

You can call someone out on their actions and disagree with what they do without calling him all of these names, bullying him and blogs that don't think it's real. Yeah he was wrong to sign the contract and all of that but it doesn't make him the worst person in the world or some criminal. Makes me wonder how some of these blogs and anons treat people in their actual lives if they’re going to behave this way online over someone they don’t know. 🤔

Sorry this is so long but thanks for letting me vent. 🥹💜

It's okay, N🫶nnie.

I've always said, that my blog is a safe space where you can vent out your frustrations about anything. And I meant it.

As for that blog, I think they're just angry at Chris, and calling him names and sticking around helps her.

And honestly, at this point, things like this that come out when they post something, it's more for the catharsis that comes after. And maybe she does it a lot, because her disappointment, runs deep. And it's actually more sad than anything.

Because you believe in something, or someone. And then they do something absolutely the opposite of what you'd expect them to do. It's heartbreaking.

Also, YES! I know that feeling... Blocks are kind of redundant if the Blocked, pop up randomly 😆 but it's a comfort to know, they can't bypass your block, so they can't attack you.

And besides, ignoring them works just as well ❤️

And know, that every thought and feeling is valid, An🫶n. So, don't worry 🤗

I'll be here should you need to vent again. Don't worry 😊

#An🫶n asks #An🫶n rant post #booky reacts #booky answers #chris evans #chris evans fandom #I think we're heading into support group territory here #so asks are open for rants if you want #unless you're a hate Anon #in which case FUCK OFF!!!

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actual-changeling · 4 months

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i've only been on tumblr for a few months and just discovered there's a thing called blacklisting.

i'm not trying to be controversial or negative but i'm pretty sure that i'm in your blacklist. i'm just guessing based on what i see or don't, but i've got a couple of questions, if you don't mind.

i realize it could be a hassle, but have you considered that especially for new accounts, the blackslisted account may not know that what they did so they will continue that behavior and pass it on to others? Not everyone is as savvy as you are. (if i'm right, i will never get the benefit of interacting with you and you will never get the benefit of interacting with me and i do have things to offer)

would you rather that i stop reblogging and liking your stuff? i don't have a big following, but i reblog because i thought that we have a responsibility to reblog and get posts seen (esp artists). currently i reblog you a lot because for the most part i agree and enjoy your posts.

i think you're a really interesting person and very talented wordsmith. i wish we had more interaction, but i respect that you don't care much for me. in another world, i wish we were friends.

Cheers

Look, I block people for a small number of reasons.

they post content that is triggering to me

they actively harassed me in some shape or form (this includes me blocking people via hateful anon asks, which works but does not show you who they were)

they harassed someone i care about

they are very present in a tag I frequent and their content actively dampens my enjoyment of that topic and/or their content is not triggering but still upsetting enough to warrant a block simply to keep my experience here fun

they're openly being bigoted about something and show no signs of changing their opinion

they are or very much look like a bot

That's it. It is, in my opinion, a very reasonable list, and even if it weren't and I were to block people because their blog is blue, it still wouldn't matter because I get to curate my space.

Now, I have two observations to make.

a) You were able to send me this ask. Tumblr requires people to have an account to send anon asks.

b) You can see and interact with my content.

This means that I have not blocked the account you're using, otherwise you'd not even be able to find my blog, tumblr would send you straight to an error page.

So whatever has brought you to the conclusion that I blocked you, I did not, at least not the account you're currently using. Furthermore, I have honestly no clue who you might be, so even if I had blocked you, i wouldn't even know what to look for.

As long as you're not being an asshole on my posts, in general, or in my inbox then I don't care whether you interact with my stuff, you're free to do so if you want to, I'm not gonna sieve through my notes and check every single person's blog.

My DMs are open, my inbox is open, people can talk to me, I actively give y'all those options. Sometimes I'm bad at responding because I have shit memory for like ten different reasons which means I forget everything constantly, but other than that there's no rules except don't be a dick.

#alex answers asks

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hematomes · 1 year

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HI as most of you know last month my genshin account was hacked and it was one of the most stressful situations of my life, essentially because I did not know what to do at first. Recently I've seen people going through that too, so I thought I'd try and help them out. Also added preventive measures in case it happens, because you need a fair amount of information to prove its your account.

This comes from my personal experience and also compiles advice from the subreddit r/GenshinHacked. I'd advise against looking elsewhere because Twitter threads are a confusing mess full of contradictory info, and this subreddit is really well-done. You can directly see other people's experiences and they answer rather quickly when you make a post so!!

Also I'm severely sleep deprived right now so english hard. Obviously reblogs are very much appreciated since it's to help the community but you know. Whatever let's get into it

1. What NOT to do

- DO NOT try to buy it back. This is actually the reason I'm putting this guide together, because I've seen people buy their account back and, seriously, don't. Buying an account is against the ToS and could result in your account being banned, which is way worse than hacked because then you most likely won't get it back. Additionally, it doesn't mean the hacker won't somehow steal it again. There's no security, you'd be depending on the asshole who literally stole your account. Do not. Do that.

- DO NOT buy accounts in general. It doesn't do any good. Like I said it's against the ToS and exposes you to it getting banned or even, in the worst case, sued by Hoyoverse. Most accounts put to sale are also stolen accounts, btw. There's at least half a dozen websites dedicated to selling and buying accounts, and a shit ton of them are stolen. It's not worth it, even if the account has your fave 5* character(s) c6r5.

- DO NOT contact the hacker or, if your account has been bought, the buyer. This will just increase the chance of it getting trashed, weapons and artifacts destroyed etc. Make sure to tell your friends not to contact them either even if they want to, it's extremely important. Even when you get your account back, just block everyone from the friendlist that you don't recognize and, if someone joins your world on behalf of the buyer, block them too. I don't co-op often but I did get like half a dozen of co-op requests after getting my account back.

- DO NOT attempt to hack it back. It could result in a much worse state, e.g your account being banned. Also if you fail, higher chance of getting your account trashed.

- DO NOT assume the worst. This is mostly for your own mental health. There's a good chance your account was bought or at least the hacker's trying to sell it, so deleting weapons and artifacts would be stupid. And even if they do (which sucks), keep in mind that you'd still have your characters. If you end up with no artifacts and are on the EU server, send me an ask or a dm and I'll help you farm them back for as long as it takes! /srs

2. What to do INSTEAD

- Allow yourself to panic. It's a really stressful thing to go through, so it's only natural to be distressed. I cried for hours, man. It's okay, you'll be fine, but for now just let it happen.

- Immediately go to the aforementioned subreddit r/GenshinHacked, specifically the menu tab, and click "Recovery Form Guide". You can also reach it directly using this link: Recovery Form Guide. It tells you how to get the form, and every step of the process. Don't hesitate to make a post asking for help, they're really sweet and understanding. However if anyone contacts you through dms or even comments about some random guy being able to get it back, ignore it. It's a scam.

- Follow each step carefully, and wait. It typically takes 5-10 working days to get a response from hoyoverse, sometimes less and sometimes more. It's hard, but you can't really do anything about it. I'd say distract yourself with something else but that shit did not work for me. Just know you're not the only one going through that and I'm mentally hugging you.

- Don't give up. It can take a few tries to get it back, but as long as you have the necessary informations and can prove it's your account, you'll get it back.

3. Preventive mesures

- Don't give anyone information on your account, unless you trust them. If someone joins your world and offers to buy you a welkin, a battle pass or even just crystals but need your info to buy it, it's a scam. There's an affiliate website to gift crystals to other players - and I think you only need their UID), so they can go through there if they're sincere.

- Only buy crystals directly from Hoyoverse or affiliated websites. Same with your info.

- Install Malwarebytes on your device and let it check it for malwares. If there's anything, even if you haven't been hacked yet, completely reset your device and change your passwords.

- Enable 2FA (two-factor authentication) on your hoyolab account AND your e-mail address. I use the app Authy, so far it's been working great. I can't vouch for any other. For the hoyolab account, you can link your phone number for example.

- Collect the following information on your account:

The date you created your account. You can verify it by logging into Genshin. Menu > Character Archives > Amber. Bottom right you'll see the day you acquired her, which typically corresponds to the date you created the account.

The device you created your account with, with information about it. The form usually says what they need, and the guide from r/GenshinHacked also help. Keep it safe!

The receipt for your first top-up, if you're not f2p. A screenshot of the e-mail will suffice as far as I know (I use Google Pay tho so I'm not sure how it works for other payment options).

Information on the device you play the most with. The form is pretty clear about it.

Additional information you can get now: 5* characters (with the day you obtained them + constellations), 5* weapons (with the date you obtained them + refinements), event weapons, which characters you picked from the Liyue Lantern Rite these past 2 years (NOT absolutely necessary, I didn't add that). You can provide screenshots of getting the characters and weapons with the UID visible, but keep in mind that these can be forged so it's not fool-proof.

I got reasonably lucky: they answered in roughly a week and my form was accepted on the first try, essentially because I provided the information mentioned above. If you can access it, keep it somewhere safe.

#genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact help #idk how to tag it. i don't want to clog the tags #anyway yeah hackers suck and i hope they die #important

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