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#if anyone has questions I can answer them! if it matters!
gojo-mochi · 3 days
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OMG- ur frat boy au 😩
But I def head cannon that law even though he is more reclusive than the other frat boys he does occasionally participate in group tutoring and has you sit next to him and when you start to tease him during the tutoring he would start to tease you back but actually like finger fuck you or play with your clit as a punishment for making him distracted while he's supposed to be getting his service hours in.
I also hc that for Ace ( my love 😍) would absolutely 100 fucking percent would tutor you or your tutoring him in the library in the middle of the night when no one is around and is having you read out loud for him and he's absolutely going ham in your pussy with his fingers and he makes you squirt on the textbooks making them get all wet and dirty with your juices so he makes you go up to the librarian and report that you accidentally got a book wet.
Jdbfwhebwhh- I fucking love ur frat boy au tho like 😩 I would actually do anything for men who are frat boys like-
Sorry for the late response! I wanted to write something for this and things kept piling up BUT i'm here now and thank you so much for liking my frat boys! Heeh ٭(•﹏•)٭
Law is so mean!! So, so mean god… But he likes it (secretly) when you tease him by wearing those short miniskirts, and wearing no panties during your tutoring session!?! You were def asking for him so don’t cry to him when he’s keeping you on edge the whole time and you better answer his question correctly to show that he’s a good tutor or else…..(ノ´ з `)ノ
THAT SO DIRTY ACEEE RAHHHHH, god.. He such like a fuckboy (in my story at least) JUST THAT puppydog sweet boy look with a fuckboy personality just hit so gooooooddd ughhhhh thank you for giving me these prompts! Hope you enjoy the fic! (◕ㅅ◕✿)
CW: Toxic! Law and Ace (My version of them as fratboys! Not canon-adjecent! I love these sweet boys), mention of cheating, manipulation, P/V, unprotected sex, creampie, fingering, squirting, voyeurism.
Word Count: 7k
A/N:THank you so much to @kazieai for being my beta reader!!!  ( ˘ ³˘)♥ Little surprise at the end of Ace eheh <3
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Tutoring Session with Law: 
Group study session means less time he has to waste actually tutoring since he can just cross off a lot of extra hours by helping everyone at once. He would never admit it out right to you or anyone for that matter, but you were his favorite student by far. Not necessarily because you were a good student or anything like that. It was because in every session he had with you, you always wore the shortest skirt paired with something low-cut so when you lean over the table to ask a stupid question, his eyes would get a nice view of your chest. By the third session you had with him, you forego wearing a bra and just let your nipples get all perky from the nice cool library’s air conditioning. 
He really punished you the first time you did that, pulling and tweaking at your little nubs until you were crying from oversensitivity. Only to soothe away your cries with his skillful tongue and fingers digging deep in your pussy. You loved it though, teasing Law to the point where he lets go of his restraints and just bends you over the table and starts punishing you. It’s a good stress reliever for both you and him, of course.
Law almost denied your request to join him and other students in group studying, knowing that you’ll try to pull some kind of dirty trick while he’s trying to finish his service hours. Though once you gave him your sweetest puppy dog eyes, he caved in pretty quickly. And to his surprise, you showed up wearing something that actually covers your skin and wasn’t just some torn cloth marketed as “clothes”. A simple turtleneck sweater with a matching skirt and silk stockings to top it off. 
Law eyes you warily when you plop down on the seat next to him, but says nothing to you and focuses on the other students instead. You pouted at him and pretended to write down some notes or read the textbook you were assigned. Absent-mindedly flipping thru the pages, barely paying any attention to the words. You hear Law sigh a lot during the session, pencil tapping against the wooden table when he sees one of the other students typing away at his phone under the table. 
His other student doodling in his notebook, not paying attention to anything Law was trying to teach them. It was you, Law, and two other male students all huddled together in a corner of the library. While he could just pretend to teach them and get this session over with, he wasn’t sure if his hours for this would count if half of his students were gonna fail or get worse grades after his tutoring. At the very least, he knew you would retain some of his teachings, you knew you would be punished if you didn’t after all. 
And it wasn’t the fun kind of punishment either, the one where you were left wobbling with red cheeks afterwards. No, if you end up failing a quiz or your grades drop even a little, Law would either ignore your attempts to reach out to him or worse. He would openly flirt with someone in front of you, most likely one of the girls from the sororities his fraternity would often host parties with. He would prance around with one of those girls strapped to his arm, nodding and using his fake smile on them. Knowing how much your blood boils when those girls start pressing their boobs on his bicep, that was your job, goddamn it!
You took your anger out on your studying, furiously writing down notes, huffing and puffing through your textbook, and staring holes in your teacher's skull during lecture. All so you could get one of the top grades during the test next week and so you could flip off the sororitie’s girls when Law publicly praised you and you pulled him in for a steamy kiss. No one was really sure if the two of you were actually dating or fucking around. Whatever kind of sick game the two of you were tangled in, the other frat members knew not to fuck around with you. Law has special access to the chemical lab at the university and he made vague threats about poisoning his brothers if they tried anything with you. 
You rolled your eyes when you found out about it, but secretly it made your heart skip a beat, seeing how possessive he would get over you. You could see now by the way his brows were furrowed in that Law was getting more than annoyed. You decided to fuck with him even further, by inching your leg over to his side. Slipping out of your shoes and going over to Law’s side and nudging his ankle softly. Law glanced at you from his side vision but you pretended to be writing down something in your notebook instead, not paying him any mind. 
He pinched the bridge of his nose and took in a deep breath, deciding to focus on the other students first. Law grabbed one of the heaviest books on the table and slammed it down hard on the wooden table. The thump made everyone else jump a little, all eyes were on Law now who just glared back unamused. 
“Now that I got everyone’s attention, I’ll be honest and say that I don’t give a fuck about any of you.” He takes a quick glance your way as he said that but focuses back on the boys. One of them tried to open their mouth to speak back but Law cut him off. “That being said, we all are here for a reason, and my reason is that I’m forced to get service hours or my lab privileges are revoked.”
He grabbed a pen in his hand and point it at the male students, “And trust me, if my lab privileges on campus get revoked, I will find a way to set up a new one, and I think the first test subjects I’ll use, are the dumb-fuck students who fucked me over.” He said in a casual tone, twirling his pen around his fingers, the students gulped nervously just now noticing the tattoos on his hands. You suppressed giggling at this tense moment, feeling your heart flutter whenever Law gets like this. 
You quietly scoot closer to him, rubbing your foot up higher on his calves and resting a hand on his thigh. Law continued on like nothing was happening, “So, I suggest for the sake of all our sanities, that you two actually get to studying.” He leans back in his chair and spreads his legs apart wide, knocking your leg back a bit. You pout at this but it didn’t deter you, moving your hand further down and squeezing his bulge a little bit. Already hard and poking through his jeans, you bit your lips at the realization. 
Scooting your chair even closer until it was right next to Law’s chair, the other two boys were too scared to pay attention to you or your antics. Law’s lip twitched but he pressed on forward, instructing the boys to open their own textbook and start listening to his lecture. While you do love his voice, hearing him drone on about molecules and compounds didn’t really help make you wetter. 
You decide to get bolder and unzip Law’s jeans very slowly. Your head turns to face him as you do, pretending that you’re really listening to his lecture but in reality you just want to see if he could maintain a straight face while you slip your hands inside his pants. His eyes were pointed at the two other students, glaring harshly making sure that they were taking down the right notes. With his legs spread wide, you had easy access to fiddle around with his bulge. 
“Wrong, redraw the structure of that compound again, you missed an oxygen in there.” Law drones out, flicking some eraser shavings over to the student’s paper. All the while your hands dips down lower and lower, cupping his balls in your warm hands and playing around with them in the way you know he loves. Law grunts softly in response but does not take your hand away, you bump shoulders with him and pout. 
“Law, can you look at my notes too? I’m not sure I did it right…” You whined, squeezing his balls a little harder to make sure he turns his attention to you. This time Law grabs your wrist firmly and yanks your hands out of his pants. His eyes turned to you, and you flinched back a bit at the heavy glare. 
Perhaps you went a bit too far this time with your antics, he turns his body towards you and looks over your notes, all the while his hand still holds on to your wrist. He points over some areas you should’ve written down more information and silently moves his hands off your wrist and down onto your thigh. You looked down at his hand but he snapped his other hand in front of your face; “Oy, pay attention, ya?” 
You flinch back a bit as his hand inches further down your thigh, his long fingers tracing around the edge of your skirt. His golden eyes piercing down your soul right to your pussy as he makes you rewrite some notes down before turning his attention back on the other students. You fidget under his cold hand, causing him to pinch your skin lightly. A silent order to keep you still and the others unassuming. 
The grip you had on your pen was shaking a little by now, his hand getting bolder with each passing second and he wasn’t even looking at you when his fingers finally reached out and poked at your panties. Well, he would have poked at your panties, if you were actually wearing any today…
You fought back a yelp as his finger pushed past your walls a bit, his nails scraping against your softness. Meanwhile, Law had to maintain a straight face once he realized that you weren’t wearing anything down there today. Oh, now you were in for it…
Law wasted no more time as his skillful fingers plunged right back in, pointer and middle finger sliding down your slick walls, as his thumb gets placed right on top of your clit. Gently rubbing it in small circular motions. With just enough pressure for you to feel it but not enough for you to fully enjoy it. You tried to buck up your hips to get more friction but Law just pinch your clit in response, making you hiccup out loud, having everyone's attention on you. 
You shy away from their gazes, your face heating up especially from Law’s eyes on you. You cough awkwardly and point to your water bottle; “Heh, just a dry throat.. I’m alright.” Your shaky hands grabbed the bottle and you chugged down the rest of the liquid inside as the other students went back to their notes and Law’s fingers went back inside your cunt. 
Only his middle finger this time, Law slowly sinks his long digit in and out of your pussy, covering his finger in your sweet slick. All the while, he maintained a bored expression on his face and actually started tutoring the other students. They were whipped into gear now, asking questions and asking for help on parts they weren’t sure on. This session might turn out great at this rate, but you couldn’t really give a shit. 
You wanted Law to give you more attention, more friction, you wanted his cock inside of you now. Or at least more of his fingers, he was hitting the right spot but it wasn’t enough for you, barely enough for you to feel that spark of pleasure each time he curled his finger in. You bit in the inside your cheek as you dared to bring one hand down under your skirt and start playing with your clit yourself. Of course, Law did see you doing this, but he did nothing to punish you for it at the moment. Instead, he actually plunged in another finger inside your tight walls, scissoring them outward as your own fingers start to play with your clit. 
You knew that a punishment was gonna come sooner or later, but the pleasure felt so good to care at this point. Your own fingers started to speed up along with Law, and just when you were finally reaching that point of pure ecstasy, he pulled his fingers out, causing a needy whine to slip past your lips.
Everyone’s head snapped towards you, Law calls out to you with a faint smirk painted across his face, “Oy? Everything alright there?” He leans into your space, smearing his slick-covered on your forehead as he pretends to check for a fever. Your face heats up even more at the contact, wanting to slap his hand away but not wanting to cause any more suspicion. You meekly nod your head while glaring sideways at Law, he pulls his hand away with a sigh and motions for everyone to start working again. 
“Alright, the library closes in 30 minutes so everyone listen up. I’m gonna go over the most important parts you need to know for the upcoming exam.” Law snaps his fingers and holds out his notebook for everyone to see. “Let’s make the most of our time now, so we never have to see each other again, yeah?”
His eyes gaze over everyone, gauging their reaction and seeing if they were actually paying attention to him. You were still glaring at him but at least your eyes were on him as well. He nods and leans back in his chair, holding up his notebook in one hand as he casually flips it easily by maneuvering his fingers around the pages.
His other hand went right back to its rightful spot, in between your legs, not that you were complaining. You may grumble or whine about it later to him in private but as of now, the need to be fucked overrides all your other senses. With a few taps on your thighs, you readily spread your legs apart for him. 
“...the most important thing is to remember the oxygen count…” Law rambled on and on, his voice drowning out the small wet plapping noises he was making underneath the table. He made sure to keep eye contact with you on occasion as well, not letting your eyes close or wander away from his lecture. 
Your own hands balled up into tight fists on your lap as you desperately try to keep calm and still while Law finger-fucked you under the table. His thumb sporadically swipes at your swollen clit, just to keep you tethering on that sweet euphoric edge. 
“..you can skip remembering all the structures if you’re better at remembering the formula for them, just bullshit it enough and the professor will go easy on you…” 
You dug your nails into the palm of your hands, your thighs shaking around Law’s hand as he added another finger inside. His thumb picked up the pace and you slowly felt your self-control slipping away. 
“Well, that’s about covers most of it, does anyone have any questions?” Law draws out, looking around the table and stopping at you. His eyes glinting at your nervous face and carefully watching for your reaction. “Y/N? You seem like you have a question you want to ask, no need to be all shy now~” He teased a little at the end, and now everyone’s eyes were on you. Your mouth flounders around a bit, as you try to find your voice. 
“I-um don’t really hav-ahhiee!” 
Law being the prick that he is, made sure to pinch on your clit right in the middle of your sentence. Making you scream out loud, your scream echoing in the quiet library air. Your whole face burns with embarrassment as you hear Law quietly snicker to himself at your side. The other two students look at you with a mixture of confusion and redness on their faces. 
Before you could try to explain yourself, the librarian pops out of nowhere with an angry tick marked on her face. She points to her watch and clears her throat loudly in annoyance; “While it is nice to see students finally studying for once in here, I must warn you that the library closed around 10 mins ago. So please kindly pack your stuff and head out.”
She clicks her heels together and gives the group one last glare before huffing and leaving. 
“Uh.. thanks for the session, dude. I’ll just head out now.”
“Yeah… me too.”
The two male students quickly gathered up their stuff, ready to bounce from the tutoring session. Law waves them off after giving them one last order, “Don’t forget to sign the paper to let the school know that I tutored you, cause if you don’t, I’ll come find you..” 
They both nod in unison and scuttle off, while you smack your face in your hands. Letting out an embarrassed groan over the events that all occurred. Ready to get up and go scream about it later in the comfort of your bed. However, Law had other ideas as he grabbed your wrist and pulled you into his chest. 
A hand on your cheek as he hooks his thumb inside your mouth, forcing you to look directly in his golden eyes. 
“Hold up, you’re not thinking about leaving this place while you’re still this messy… were you?” To emphasize his point, his other hand comes down under your skirt to swipe up on your wet cunt. Collecting some of your warm cream on his fingertips and stuffing them in your open mouth forcefully. Mixing your own cream with your spit on his fingers for a while, wiping the excess on your lips and cheeks as he pulls out his fingers. 
He gathers up all the items left on the table and unceremoniously dumped them into his backpack. Slapping you on the ass and leading you to the bathroom for some extra tutoring.
“Guess, I’ll have to teach you to clean up after yourself too. Be grateful, ya? I don’t just do this for anyone.”
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Tutoring Session with Ace:
“Ac-Acee-hnggg We ca-can’t keep doing this.” 
You attempted to keep your voice as low as you can, while being pounded from behind that is. Ace’s large and warm hands gripping tightly on your waist, his thumbs digging into your sides, leaving marks for the future. Your incessant whining only fueled Ace to bury his cock deeper inside you, his hips slamming against your ass with each pounding. 
The chair you were gripping on for balance starts to wobble under the increasing intensity, your nails dig into the wood for any semblance of purchase. Leaving scratch marks that will surely get you in trouble if the librarian ever finds them. Ace bends down, breath tickling the back of your neck, his hot tongue licking up a stripe of sweat beading down your skin.
You bite back a moan, eyes darting around to see if anyone was passing by to catch you in this sinful act. Though with the pleasure building up inside of you at a rapid pace, you find it harder and harder to keep your eyes open. And just as you were about to cum, Ace bit down on your shoulder, hard.
The stinging pain went straight down to your core as you cum almost violently, your pussy clenching down on Ace’s cock which was still buried deep inside your womb. He insisted on not wearing a condom since, “It doesn’t feel good, and none of the sizes fit him anyway.” 
So, all of his cum spilled inside, filling you up to the brim as your legs shake underneath. Your head falls down on the seat’s cushion, while the rest of your body is being held up by Ace. He licks at the wound on your shoulder, lapping up some blood droplets that were seeping out. You groan when his licks start to get more and more sloppy, much akin to that of a dog. Specks of spit start hitting your cheek as he starts to shake his head side to side with his tongue still hanging out. 
You hiss at him and turn your head to look over your shoulder as you try to push him away. He laughs at you with a wide smile, leaning back and pulling his cock out and watching his seed begin to spill out as he does so. He grabs you by the waist and tugs you back into his chest. Spinning around so that he could sit on the chair with you snug on his lap. He spreads your legs open with his own, turning his head around as he searches for something on the ground. 
“Ah! There you are!” 
He smiles as he bends down to pick an article of clothing off the floor. He shows off your own cute pair of panties right front of your face, leaving you dumbfounded for a second. His smile grows mischievous like a cat that just got into something they shouldn't have. 
Ace hums to himself as he spreads your legs wider and reaches down with one hand and parts open your pussy with two fingers. Some of the cum starts to spill out, coating his fingers in the process but Ace happily purrs at the sight, bringing the panties down as well to wipe up his mess. 
“Ace!”
You whispered-yelled in both embarrassment and a bit of anger, you wiggle on his lap, hands pushing on his biceps to try to get away from him. Your efforts were useless as Ace just continued on cleaning up his cum dripping out of your sensitive cunt without a care in the world. Even humming a little as he does so; 
“...and the girls say, Save a horse, ride a cowboy..”
You sort of regret showing him that song, he loves to sing it especially when you’re riding on top of him. With a few more swipes up and down your pussy and a few bites from you on his biceps, the task was finally done. Your now cum-soaked panties were once again brought right up to your face as Ace showed off his work. 
“Ace, what the fu-mmph!”
Just as you were about to start to scold Ace, he unceremoniously shoves your ruined panties into your open mouth, gagging you in the process. Your slick and Ace’s cream started coating your tongue, letting you fully taste the sinful mixture of your actions. You had enough and ripped your panties out of your mouth and smacked it on Ace’s face, which he didn’t really seem to mind. 
“Ow, ow, Ok, I’m so-OW!”
Ace yelped and jumped up in pain, pushing you down to the ground in the process. Holding his crotch with both hands as he looked at you with teary puppy eyes. 
“Sweetheart! How could you hurt me in my most precious area like that?”
He rubs his crotch a little and looks down at it with a heavy sadness in his eyes, while you roll yours in return.You go over to slap him hard on the back as you begin looking for other pieces of your clothing scattered across the floor. Not your first time being fully naked in the back of the library but you were already caught once and you weren’t looking forward to being caught a second time.
Thankfully, it was just another member from his fraternity who caught you two. A sort of mean-looking guy, you think his name was “Lawrence”? or something close to that. He’s a fellow tutor but you really haven’t crossed paths with him often, he usually keeps to himself. You remember at that time you had your back against the wall while Ace held you up, fucking you against the wall. 
So you were the first one to notice “Lawrence” come around the corner, the only look of surprise on his face was his eyes widening a little before he gave you a little smirk. Leaning on the bookshelf, with a smug little smile on his face as Ace kept pounding inside of you. You tried to tell Ace that someone was here but your moans kept cutting you off and Ace was too pussydrunk to care at that point. 
You hid your face in Ace’s shoulder, embarrassed to be found in such a position. You peek over at your fellow tutor, finding “Lawrence” rolling his eyes at your shyness and getting off the bookshelf and taking a book out. He waves goodbye to you, and leaves soon after. You told Ace what happened afterwards, but he just said, “Oh yeah, us frat boys do that all the time. We like to share sometimes, ya know?”
You didn’t know and you weren’t sure if you wanted to know more. You shook your head free of these memories, patting your skirt down and making sure that your shirt was buttoned correctly. Now that you were fully dressed, just without your panties, you were ready to continue on with this “tutoring session”. You hear the sound of shuffling behind you and then a heavy weight on your shoulder as Ace sets his head down and begins to whine in your ear.
His arms snaking around your waist and pulling you back into his naked chest, at least he put his shorts back on this time.
“Come on, puppy-boy, time for us to actually study.”
Ace whines ever harder at your statement, wrapping his arms around you tighter. “But,  Baby girl!” You shake your head and start to move with him still wrapped around you, step by step as Ace drags his feet behind you.
“Firecracker, please let’s just talk this out. We can study even more once my balls get emptied again!”
You ignored him, walking over to a bookshelf and browsing the lines of books for an easy studying one. 
“My love, my goddess, my only one, the one that holds my heart, my soul, and my cock and balls.”
Ace gets closer to your ear with each nickname, you felt your cheeks heat up at the sweeter names, until he said that last one and you showed him that you really did hold his balls in your hands. Squeezing lightly as a warning, which only causes him to moan and start grinding on you instead. 
You squeezed harder and harder until he got the hint and backed off, with that weight off your shoulder, you grabbed the book and turned to Ace. Pointing to the book with an exasperated look on your face, “Listen, I need your grades to at least go up a few percent. I am literally about to get fired from this job, if they don’t.”
Ace opens his mouth to retort with something lewd again but quickly shuts it once he sees how serious you are. He nods softly, and sits down on the ground, tilting his hat back and looking up at you with a beaming smile.
Ace held his hand up like an honor scout and looked clearly into your eyes as he said, “I promise, I’ll try to learn something this time and pass the next exam with flying colors.”
You were still doubting him a little but decided this was the best you were gonna get, so you plopped down in front of Ace. Opening the book and telling Ace to read the passage out loud and tell you what the theme and underlying tone of that passage was. Ace scoots around you and places you on his lap, which causes your eyebrows to furrow but he holds his hands up again this time in mock defense.
He starts reading the passage out slowly, his smooth voice lulling you to a sense of calm in his lap. You settled in rather quickly, leaning back on his chest, your eyes following along as he spoke. After he was done and you asked your questions, you were surprised to find his answers free of any innuendos and contained actual full-fledged thoughts. 
He always acted like a dumb frat boy or a horny puppy so this side of him was new to you. The two of you kept on reading passage after passage, with your questions getting harder with each passage to test Ace’s knowledge and to see if he was still paying attention or not. He passed every question with flying colors, remembering every small detail and characters that appeared, and your heart fluttered with each answer he gave. This new side of Ace was somehow more attractive than his fuckboy persona. But you knew that Ace wasn’t the type of guy to date for long, you heard stories of broken-hearted girls with his name tattooed across their chest. 
A new pair of voices jolted you from these thoughts, as you strained your ears to try to make out the words. 
“Why are these books so far back?”
“I think it’s because no one really borrows them, even most of the professors don’t even know what half of these books mean.”
“Geez, and some of these are ancient too, almost as ancient as Professor Rayleigh, don’t you think?”
“Heh… yeah, let’s just find the damn book and go, it's kinda creepy back here…”
The sound of footsteps gets closer and closer to you, and you start to panic a little. While you both were clothed, it was still pretty obvious that you and Ace fucked, with the dishelved hair, the dried drool on your chin, and numerous lipstick stains and bite marks that litter across each of your bodies. 
You made a move to get up quietly, only to be pulled back down with an “Oof” escaping your lips. You turned your head back to glare at Ace who made a shushing motion with his finger, with his arm securely holding you down on his lap. 
“Wh-?”
Ace holds a hand over your mouth as you attempt to question him, holding you down even tighter as you try to wiggle out of his hold. He leans in to whisper in your ear, as your feeble attempts to escape proving no match to his strength. 
“Hold on, baby girl, take a listen. I think they’re really close to us now.”
You glared at him harder but stopped your struggle and listened closely. Hearing the sound of sneakers sliding along carpet and books being picked up and flipped thru, the two newcomers were browsing the aisle right next to yours. 
“If we try to move now, they’ll definitely catch us. So, let’s stay put alright, love?”
You hate to admit it, but he was right, there was no way you both could sneak over to get your stuff and sneak past them quietly at this point. You could only hope that they find the book they’re looking for in that aisle and leave quickly. You sigh and settle back in Ace’s lap, his hand leaves your mouth and rests on your stomach. 
The two of you fall quiet, listening to the shuffling of books and small murmurs from the two other students. The heat radiating from Ace’s body was pleasant against the chilly library’s air. Making you snuggle even closer to Ace, wanting to soak up every last bit of warmth he has to offer. 
Ace chuckles and wraps his arms around you, flexing his biceps as he does so. Swaying you from side to side softly, resting his chin on your shoulder, his hair tickling your face. He turns to give you a chaste kiss on the cheek, and it is with moments like these, that really make your heart flutter. Then, you start wondering what it would be like, if you and Ace made it official.
No more sneaking around, no more pretending not to be jealous when you see him with another girl at a party, no more keeping your friends up at night wondering if he really likes you or just your body. If you just bit the bullet finally and asked him what he really thought of you and this ‘relationship’. Does he hold the same feelings you do? Or is this really all just a game to him and you're just another side piece in his lineup.
While all these thoughts swirl inside your head, you didn’t notice how one of Ace’s hands started slipping lower and lower on your body, lingering on top of your thigh for a few moments. Ace carefully watched for a reaction but seeing as you were still lost in your head, he took this as a sign to keep going. Gently picking up the edge of your skirt and moving it upwards, inch by inch until more of your thighs are exposed and he could just barely see some of your pussy if he angled his head correctly.
You suddenly felt more chilly than before, snuggling backwards to find that warmth again, your mind still stuck in the clouds only to be shot awake by a finger swiping up your cunt. A hand was already on your mouth before you could scream, “What the fuck?!”
Ace shushes you, his grip tight on your face but not to the point of actually hurting you. 
“It’s just me, little flame, it’s just me…”
Ace nuzzles your cheek as an attempt to calm you down, while his finger still inside your cunt starts to wiggle around a little. You breath in roughly thru your nose, trying to express your anger at this ordeal. Ace only chuckles in return, softly calling you “Cute..” and continuing on. Swiping his thumb up and down on your still sensitive clit, making your legs jolt out a bit. You muffle out curses and squeeze your eyes shut, not wanting Ace to win this battle. But damn, he really knows how to use his fingers…
“I just want to thank you for today, my flame…”
“You seem so stressed out lately and this is my way of showing just how much I love you..”
Bullshit.. You knew what he was spewing out was just lies.. But you can’t deny how his voice affects you when it gets like this. All soft and smooth, filled with so much affection you could drown in it. A sickeningly sweet pool of lies, with you in the middle, slowly sinking down and down with each interaction you have together with him. And the worst part is, that you know you could easily just leave, get out of the pool and go find someone better… someone who might actually love you for you. 
But you don’t, you let Ace pull you in with his charms and stupid smile. You embrace the lies and pretend that in the end when it is all over and you’re alone in bed at night, that it doesn’t matter and you’re not crying. So, you pretend to struggle a bit more, pretend not to enjoy his cute little nicknames that he only reserves for you and none of his other fuck toys. 
Your hips begin to move up and down as Ace’s thumb starts rubbing small and quick circles on your clit, moving his fingers in and out in that rhythm that drives you wild. Muttering filthy praises in your ear as his movement gets faster and rougher, you moans subdued in his palm. Your legs jerking and twitching as you get close to that blinding pleasure that Ace always brings you to. 
With a final curl of his fingers he pushes you over the edge, taking his hand away from your mouth as you scream out, only to push his fingers down your throat as your body spasm and squirt all over yourself. Drool spills down your chin as you gag on Ace’s fingers, panting heavily as your body calms back down. You grabbed Ace’s wrist and pulled it away from you, so you can finally breathe normally again.
“What? You’re not gonna help me clean up?”
He brings up his slick-covered hands to your face, which you promptly slaps away and shush him for being too loud. 
Ace gets up and laughs, pulling you up with him. 
“Hey, hey, don’t worry! Those two left a while ago while you were zoning out about something in that pretty little head of yours.” 
He dusts off his pants and stretches his arm over his head, you turn to look away from him with an embarrassed blush flushing your face. You check the time on your phone and sigh, noting that it was almost library closing hours. 
“Come on, it’s time to go, the library is about to close.” You signal to Ace to get going, as you look around for anything you may have dropped. 
“We have to be fast about it, I also want you to check out the book to read later, alright?”
“Because, I really really need you to ace this test.” 
Ace snorts at that, “Hah, ace this test, good one, little flame.” He slaps you on the shoulder hard enough to make you stumble forward a little. 
“I mean it, Ace! Seriously, please just-”
“I got it, really I do! But, I might need some motivation during the late night, you know? Like a cheeky little photo to cheer me up?” 
You glare at him through your sideview, turning on your heel and stomping over to get your items, readjust your clothes, and fix your makeup if need be. You do some breathing exercises to calm yourself down, while you pack everything up in your bag and Ace’s bag, using some wet wipes you have on hand to clean yourself up as well. 
Ace comes sauntering by, soon after you were done with everything, holding the book up high in his hands proudly. You sigh and cross your arms at him, ready to get the night over with, your legs barely managing to keep you upright and walking after everything you've been through. 
You throw his bag his way, and walk forward first. Leading the way to the front of the library. Zipping up your jacket all the way up while walking so you could hide marks Ace may have left on you that you didn’t catch earlier. As you were reaching the front, you were surprised to see a student working the front desk instead of the usual cranky old lady. 
You’ve seen this student before, I mean she was gorgeous after all, you think she was in architecture or something to do with history. She usually hangs out with another beautiful girl with orange hair. Her blue eyes catch yours and you gulp  nervously, feeling like your entire being was being stripped down by her gaze. 
You steel yourself and walk right up to the desk with Ace coming up right behind you. Before you could say a word, Ace drops the book down on the desk and starts jogging off. 
“Hey! Sorry, I just got a text from my bros, they need me for something, so I gotta go! Just give me the book tomorrow or whatever, catch you later!” 
He leaves out the door before you could say anything or catch him, leaving you alone with the hot librarian lady. Somehow you couldn’t bring yourself to lock eyes with her so you just awkwardly cough, keeping your eyes on the book as you spoke. 
“Ah..um, I would like to check out this book please. Just for a week should be fine ... .thank you.”
You watch as her perfectly manicured hands take the book away and flip it open to scan the barcode inside the cover. You fiddle with the hem of your sleeves, too shy to watch her work. You hear her flip a few more pages and hum; “Interesting…”
You felt a small tap on your own hand and looked up to find her showing the book to you, opened to a random page, a random page with very suspicious wet spots on it…
Oh..
Oh no…
Oh my fucking god, you were gonna kill Ace then yourself. That if you don’t burn in shame and embarrassment right now. You sputter and flop around to come up with a believable excuse for those stains. 
“O-oh! Um gosh! Really sorry I think I might have dropped my water bottle on the table while we were reading, heh. I-I mean, yeah! I definitely knocked over a bottle of water when reading that book…” 
You trail off, realizing how high pitched your voice was, how Ace didn’t even bother to hide his kiss marks or love bites before he left, and how stupid you probably sound to her right now. Your shoulder slump down as your voice fades off to a quiet apology. She chuckles at this, a light and airy sound that makes your heart start racing hearing it. She catches your eyes again and this time you can’t look away. 
“Don’t worry darling, I know how to keep a secret.” She winks at you, and goes to flip the page back to the cover. Her finger swipes at a wet corner, which she then brings that same finger up to her mouth and licks it. All the while keeping eye contact with you. Your mouth drops wide at the sight, inciting another chuckle out of her. 
The next few moments go by in a flash as your brain tries to process what just happened. You're brought back to reality as she hands you back the book with a little card sticking out the top. 
“As much as I would love to keep playing with you, the library has pretty strict closing times, so I must ask you to leave.” 
You nod dumbly, shoving the book under your arm and stumbling your way towards the exit. She waves you off with such a pretty smile on her face. You walk outside in the crisp cold nighttime air and breathe in heavily. 
This was one hell of a night, you decided that all your brain cells were spent today so you would sleep on today’s event and think about it tomorrow. 
As you were walking back home, the little card that was in the book fell out. You bend down to grab it again and as you do, you read what’s on the card. 
“XXX-XXXX If you want to have a even better time <3 ~ Robin”
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pantheresssy · 18 hours
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In The News (Art Donaldson/Reader)
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Hi there!
First fic and also first smut in a long time! I didn’t remembered that it was so complicated to write, but I think that’s pretty good (not in the end tho). Hope u guys enjoy.
Summary: You make an article not very favorable to Tashi and Art's marriage, and he just has to show you how well they are; by fucking you while talking about how much he loves her.
warnings: smut, +18 only, kind of dom!art (even when it doesn’t look like that, power play, r is a smart bitch, quick fuck, and art talks about tashi less times than I expected.
The marriage of the two biggest tennis stars is on the verge of collapse! Art and Tashi Donaldson share only two things in common: their profession and a daughter, since love is not equal.
Tashi seems very unhappy with where she lives and, to escape, she hangs out in the middle of the night with a loser named Patrick Zweig to have something more.
May be Art losing his so loved wife?
And just like that his morning was ruined.
This article was the first of many that would come, Art was sure. With those words, he would become even more the center of attention, this time bringing the worst part of his marriage to the surface. Nothing but perfection was what Tashi taught him to show when it came to that union, with that matter, everything she took care of, even the smallest detail, fell apart. Everything would turn into a snowball because of a few words and a photo of her leaving in the middle of the night.
Even though he didn't want to see anything else, Art picked up his phone and quickly looked for the name signed. Y/n Y/l. The first to really bother him. He just had to take matters into his own hands.
That's how he ended up in front of the door of your house, ringing the bell without stopping.
When you opened it, the look of surprise on your face almost made him smile. You were prettier in person than in the photos on the internet, not that he would really care about that. "Sir. Donaldson, what a surprise."
He rested his shoulder on the hinge of the door and looked at you. He had a serious expression, but his eyes sparkled with something that you guessed was amusement. "I can say the same. The news earlier today were quite a shock to me, you know,"
"Oh, you read it." The shock weighed on your face. You were using it to confuse him and play innocent, and it might actually be working, if the way he moved was any indication. "I'm sorry you find out this way, but a good story just need to published."
He clenched his jaw and gave you a tight-lipped smile. "I understand that, but you might have misunderstood the real situation. And I would like to clarify things to you."
Your smile brightened. "An exclusive interview? This would be wonderful, Mr. Donaldson. Come in, please." He hummed and passed by you when you took a step back.
Art sat in an armchair facing you, with the coffee table being the only thing separating the two of you. "Tashi was trying to convince Patrick to let her be his trainer, no date's like you said."
"But she was trying to convince him at 2 am? It's quite a anormal time for a job meeting, don't you think?"
He wanted to rip out all the quick answers you had and throw them away before it led to a more tragic ending. You weren't worried about anything other than having something fresh to say and you would wrap him in a web until you pulled the answers out of his mouth. "She didn't want me to know about it. Him and I have a hard past."
You nodded understandably and looked at him with sad eyes. What is she doing. "I know. You took his girl, but not before he took her from you."
Frozen in place. That's how he was. Frozen and looking at with quite scared. Nobody knew about what happened in Stanford, he didn't have anyone to tell, nobody was paying attention to Art Donaldson. "And how you assume this?"
Your eyes shone as if he had made the one million question. "Nothing better than have a history from the ones who experienced everything." And when your smile became more malicious, he finally realized.
"Patrick were never good on telling things," He affirmed, trying to put the control back on his lap. "But the lies he tell must be pretty convincing."
You agreed. "They were, if you being here is an indication."
Art felt fucked. He didn't know how to convince you. You were a journalist, even when publishing those things. It was your job to check the facts and not being fooled easily.
So he appealed for his best quality; his seduction.
He wasn't by far the ultimate guy on flirting, but he could do one thing or other. And, if he was being honest, it wouldn't be the worst thing trying to do it with you. After all, you're a pretty, fucking bastard woman, who he just wanted to make take back your own words.
Art rested his elbows on his knees and placed his hands in fists under his chin. This way, he would look at you underneath. "You know how to do a pretty number out of people,"
Again, your smile. "I would be worried if I don't. This is my job, Mr. Donaldson."
"You're good at it," He corresponded your amusement and ran his eyes on you. The way you're sitting didn't let much to look for, but it was enough to make him flinch.
You got silent for a little, waiting for him to take the lead. When it didn't happen, you took the ball back. "Well, you never told me how you felt about you ex best friend going out with your wife."
He dismissed the question. "I didn’t because there's nothing to feel." It wasn't as convincing as he thought, but it was a will-do answer.
You got up and went to a table behind the couch you were sitting, giving him the opportunity to drop his shoulders and close his eyes. "I could be more convinced if you had told me that you already know and didn't care. Tashi doesn't love you, does she?"
And again, he was fucked. "Of course she does. She wouldn't be with me if she didn't." And he wanted to believe his own words.
"She can't play anymore, Mr. Donaldson, but you can."
A glass of whiskey is given to him and he took without thinking twice. The first sip burned his throat, but the second seemed softer than the look you're throwing in his direction. "She's not with me for it, Y/n. Trust me." The amount of times he had justified himself was getting out of his math.
You sit on the center table, mirroring his position so you would be closer to his face. "If she's not then why she didn't let you retire? To live the the peaceful and easy life you desire?"
Art blinked and took a deep breath while thinking about what you asked. It was a hard question since he knew the reason why, but he wouldn't let you win. "She wants to see me go higher,"
The laugh came out of you easily, so much that you didn't even made any effort to put it out. "You know I'm right, Mr. Donaldson. Just say it." His eyes locked with yours and he stopped breathing.
No second passed before he putted his lips on yours, letting the cup on the floor to wrap his hands on your neck. And for the first time he was happy to have something from your mouth.
You were pulling him by his shirt, bringing him up so you could take off his clothes without success. His breathing was hot against your check and he was devouring you as if you were the last meal he would have. Maybe you were, who knows.
The steps you took backward led you to the drinks table, where he pressed you back with his pelvis, making you feel how hard he was just for that little moment. "Mr. Donaldson,"
Art tangled his fingers in your hair and pulled your head back. You sucked on his lip as you were forced away from his mouth and he groaned. It was something low and hoarse that made you grin.
"I don't wanna waist no time." He whispered.
You pushed him away, not too much, and took your clothes off. First the shirt, the jeans, your bra and underwear. All of this under his eyes. "Won't take yours off?"
He quickly got as naked as you, giving you a pretty view of his trobbing cock. Art pushed you on the table, your ass beating against the tray with the drink bottles and shaking everything out of the place. You loved the silverware but at that moment your mind was running with the idea of him.
His lips were making their way to your breasts, his tongue flicking your nipple sending a shiver to your back. Your hands were os his shoulder, your nails digging into his skin leaving red trails on it's way. "I I underestimated you."
He squeezed your thighs, his thumb rubbing against the Inside. "Why?" His lips kissed your belly and he kept his way down.
"I thought you were Tashi's pretty doll, that she could control and play anytime." You pulled his hair when you felt his tongue close to your pussy. "But here you are, about to fuck me against my table,"
He only shaked his head in agreement, still more focused on what his mouth was doing. His arms went around your knees and opened your legs wider. "I love Tashi," He said and licked a line in your slit.
You closed your eyes and dropped you head behind, smiling. "You do?" A hum.
"I fuck her every day. Not him. She carries my ring, we have a daughter."
His fingers caressed your clit, his tongue now going inside your opening. The moan that came out of your mouth were the most pornographic you ever gave. "Then why you're here, Mr. Donaldson?"
Art left his spot making your hips clench with a sharp spasm. His lips quickly went to your neck, letting small kisses that burned like fire in each part of your body. "To tell how much we love each other."
Your hands went for his cock, "Do it then, tell me."
Art stepped between your legs and he let your hands guide him. Reaching your entrance, his cock twitched as he felt the heat, and his hips went forward with a impulse. He was against your g spot.
His noises were the best thing you've ever heard. "We've been together for years, no fights, never breaking up. But you just had to put something to make us fight, don’t you?”
Art's hips moved away and came back, knocking against yours making a loud noise. The table became unstable beneath you. "I have to give people a good run for their money, Donaldson."
You clenched around him, pulling him tigh. Art looked to were you both were together and stared to go faster. Your smell was in the air between you. "Tashi is my wife," He whispered in your ear. "The one I put a ring on."
Your hands went down to his ass, squeezing and help him with his moves. "And look were you are now."
He could feel the angry again. Not even when he was pounding on you hard you stopped the smart mouth. The way you always knew what to say to let him lost.
Trying to put you into silence, he grabbed your knees. Now, your back was against the wall.
“When I end with you, I’ll be back to her. I might fuck her just like i’m doing to you.” The pleasure in your face made him go harder.
You placed your hands in the table and stretched your back, giving him a better view of your breasts. You could feel him everywhere inside you. “Same position too, Mr. Donaldson?”
Art didn’t respond, just kept his rhythmic, feeling he could cum anytime soon. But he won’t do it before you, he wanted to see you underneath him looking well fucked and sweating. And he would.
Everything was becoming too much. His touch, his smell, the way he pounded on you, his moans. Art was a sign for the eyes, and him being so concentrated on not coming just did it all better. His frowned eyebrows gave him a tougher expression, ruined only by his blue shiny eyes. How good he looked that way.
Tashi was a lucky mother fucker.
Your teeth pulled his lips, chin and cheek. You were biting all the places you could reach, digging hard when you got into his neck. Art’s moans were full of pain, but they were also carried by lust. The sensations were getting stronger as the time goes, you could feel that you would come anytime, so you took your fingers to your clit. The moves were fast and tight, following his owns.
You were lost.
“Cum for me,” He said in your ear and you felt your body shiver. So you did it. You were higher than you expected, feeling the waves of your orgasm hit hard on you. The sensation got stronger when he came deeper inside you.
Art didn’t take long for get out of you, stepping back and watching you squirm with barely disguised satisfaction. Being mother fuckers was a couple thing, as you could see. “I was hoping to have an exclusive interview.”
Art smiled and helped you get down, “Wasn’t that better?”
You raised you eyebrows and shook your shoulders. Your clothes were everywhere on the floor, so you took them and started to get dressed again. “It might have been.”
And he was convinced that nothing would come out about his marriage again.
————————————-
After stealing his best friend’s girl and being cheated on, Art Donaldson wants to have the word time!
Not happy about Tashi sneaking in the middle of the night, he decided to give the pay back but in a different way: in the middle of the day! This time, who could possibly be this girl? Her best friend from Stanford time?
Hey!
This was a ride!! Hope it all went good! My english isn’t the best but I tried to do it without google translate every word since I really don’t trust it’s ways of doing it. Please I’m sorry if it all went a mess.
See u in the next one!
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cozymochi · 6 hours
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oh nooo... mochi I have just now realized you've combined my childhood and current hyperfixations and
I don't think I can recover 😬😬 ANYWAY I have too many questions about Tia and her life before and after isekai-ing so here's a few
-granma and lottie characters names?
-gramma based off mama Odie?
-how did Tia react to her first culinary crucible?
-her opinion on Crowley?
-and I don't typically like reading character reactions to yuusonas/MCs/OCs, but I genuinely want to know how Tia interacts with the characters? I love her so much ahhh🤩
adios y gracias mochi!
AAAA yay! Well im gonna see if I can address each of these.
-granma and lottie characters names?
Granma’s name is “Eva Dumarais”, from her father’s side. Tia’s middle name is named after her! Granma prefers to be addressed by her name “Eva” or literally anything else. I was intending on including that in practice, but I didn’t want to confuse anybody.
I actually drew up Tia’s friends for my own self reference over HERE!! (The info is still mostly accurate since posting.) But, the blonde girl (that is, yes, very much an intended allusion to Lottie) is named Lisette. A.K.A “Lizzie.” She was Tia’s longest friend. This is them in an old drawing I don’t remember making.
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-gramma based off mama Odie?
Not necessarily, however I can see how that allusion can be made. It’s an easy train of thought to have! So, I’m not opposed to it and if anyone thinks that, that’s totally fine. Then I took her eye out for no reason other than it looked cool.
Pretty much every person from Tia’s home-world doesn’t really show up anyway since they’re just people from Tia’s previous life. Not that they don’t have influence on her, but in the grander scheme they aren’t too significant. So I suppose it doesn’t matter either way! I had a drawing of her not in her sleepy time getup but I may have deleted it on accident. WHOOPS!!
-how did Tia react to her first culinary crucible?
SHE ATE IT UP!!!! Probably the most in her element course she’s taken— but Tia always wants to learn new things so I’m sure she went all in. However, she and Grim are counted as a single student. Take that as you will. Total aside, I feel like I’m the only person who takes that into consideration at all 😭.
-her opinion on Crowley?
She screamed and threw a plush monkey at him when first saw his face. As if the talking cat-like monster wasn’t enough. (Context? Who needs it)
Okay AFTER all the initial shock in being transported, magic, coffins, getting shoved into Ramshackle, being the only girl on the entire campus, and god knows what else (which is a story in itself)—-, Tia finds Crowley to be unreliable and capricious.
Tia is a lot more pressing about trying corner the guy about how to get home and question him, but Crowley will usually weasel out of it or pretend not to hear altogether. (It’s sillier in practice)
Besides, he makes her fix issues at the school and deal with it its students, then regularly blackmails, and guilt trips if she has any refusal, so it’s not exactly positive.
On the other hand, Crowley finds Tia really inflexible (and depending on the day, that can be bothersome), but!! On the bright side that can translate into someone just PERFECT for getting these students in line!
Though, because he intentionally gets under her skin for various reasons, that just makes her wanna prove herself more. So in a weird way, she wants to be recognized as capable to him but also is somewhat aware that she’s probably being strung along.
THERE’S A LOT, I FIND TIA AND CROWLEY VERY FUNNY, I just never actively discussed it or showed it much.
-how Tia interacts with the characters?
Given that there’s 20+ characters there’s no way I can feasibly answer this individually in the detail I would like to without making the longest post ever. Cuz, I do have answers!! Pretty much every base universal status quo is still the same, but. Y’know.
But if someone can imagine a generalized Tiana “base” character starting point, and put her near any of these guys— someone could probably make a feasible guess and be mostly on the money, give or take a few details (cuz there are a few things different overall…). There are characters I didn’t think Tia would gel with, but as she came into her own it sorta fell out of my hands, in a way. Lol.
——
As for not being into how other people’s MCs and the sub-categories and how they respond to characters, I just wanna say… I’m the exact same way. It’s exceeding rare for me to do the same. So don’t worry, I feel you. It’s pretty much why I don’t bring up Tia unless I’m posting a drawing with Grim on it OR if somebody asks first jfjdjdhrub so thank u!!! That just means something resonated enough!!
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aj-thegreatest · 2 months
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Thank you RT for finally deploying Theodore right before everything’s ending so I can’t just insert my Dorothy (named Dorothea, nickname is Tea) character freely
Original sketch is by @princekaiofstars, inks and colors are mine!
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FYI artists and writers: some info regarding tumblr's new "third-party sharing" (aka selling your content to OpenAI and Midjourney)
You may have already seen the post by @staff regarding third-party sharing and how to opt out. You may have also already seen various news articles discussing the matter.
But here's a little further clarity re some questions I had, and you may too. Caveat: Not all of this is on official tumblr pages, so it's possible things may change.
(1) "I heard they already have access to my data and it doesn't really matter if I opt out"
From the 404 article:
A new FAQ section we reviewed is titled “What happens when you opt out?” states “If you opt out from the start, we will block crawlers from accessing your content by adding your site on a disallowed list. If you change your mind later, we also plan to update any partners about people who newly opt-out and ask that their content be removed from past sources and future training.”
So please, go click that opt-out button.
(2) Some future user: "I've been away from tumblr for months, and I just heard about all this. I didn't opt out before, so does it make a difference anymore?"
Another internal document shows that, on February 23, an employee asked in a staff-only thread, “Do we have assurances that if a user opts out of their data being shared with third parties that our existing data partners will be notified of such a change and remove their data?” Andrew Spittle, Automattic’s head of AI replied: “We will notify existing partners on a regular basis about anyone who's opted out since the last time we provided a list. I want this to be an ongoing process where we regularly advocate for past content to be excluded based on current preferences. We will ask that content be deleted and removed from any future training runs. I believe partners will honor this based on our conversations with them to this point. I don't think they gain much overall by retaining it.”
It should make a difference! Go click that button.
(3) "I opted out, but my art posts have been reblogged by so many people, and I don't know if they all opted out. What does that mean for my stuff?"
This answer is actually on the support page for the toggle:
This option will prevent your blog's content, even when reblogged, from being shared with our licensed network of content and research partners, including those that train AI models.
And some further clarification by the COO and a product manager:
zingring: A couple people from work have reached out to let me know that yes, it applies to reblogs of "don't scrape" content. If you opt out, your content is opted out, even in reblog form. cyle: yep, for reblogs, we're taking it so far as "if anybody in the reblog trail has opted out, all of the content in that reblog will be opted out", when a reblog could be scraped/shared.
So not only your reblogged posts, but anyone who contributed in a reblog (such as posts where someone has been inspired to draw fanart of the OP) will presumably be protected by your opt-out. (A good reason to opt out even if you yourself are not a creator.)
Furthermore, if you the OP were offline and didn't know about the opt-out, if someone contributed to a reblog and they are opted out, then your original work is also protected. (Which makes it very tempting to contribute "scrapeable content" now whenever I reblog from an abandoned/disused blog...)
(4) "What about deleted blogs? They can't opt out!"
I was told by someone (not official) that he read "deleted blogs are all opted-out by default". However, he didn't recall the source, and I can't find it, so I can't guarantee that info. If I get more details - like if/when tumblr puts up that FAQ as reported in the 404 article - I will add it here as soon as I can.
Edit, tumblr has updated their help page for the option to opt-out of third-party sharing! It now states:
The content which will not be shared with our licensed network of content and research partners, including those that train AI models, includes: • Posts and reblogs of posts from blogs who have enabled the "Prevent third-party sharing" option. • Posts and reblogs of posts from deleted blogs. • Posts and reblogs of posts from password-protected blogs. • Posts and reblogs of posts from explicit blogs. • Posts and reblogs of posts from suspended/deactivated blogs. • Private posts. • Drafts. • Messages. • Asks and submissions which have not been publicly posted. • Post+ subscriber-only posts. • Explicit posts.
So no need to worry about your old deleted blogs that still have reblogs floating around. *\o/*
But for your existing blogs, please use the opt out option. And a reminder of how to opt out, under the cut:
The opt-out toggle is in Blog Settings, and please note you need to do it for each one of your blogs / sideblogs.
On dashboard, the toggle is at https://www.tumblr.com/settings/blog/blogname [replace "blogname" as applicable] down by Visibility:
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For mobile, you need the most recent update of the app. (Android version 33.4.1.100, iOs version 33.4.) Then go to your blog tab (the little person icon), and then the gear icon for Settings, then click Visibility.
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Again, if you have a sideblog, go back to the blog tab, switch to it, and go to settings again. Repeat as necessary.
If you do not have access to the newest version of the app for whatever reason, you can also log into tumblr in your mobile browser. Same URL as per desktop above, same location.
Note you do not need to change settings in both desktop and the app, just one is fine.
I hope this helps!
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apollos-olives · 5 months
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hey! if you don't mind me asking(feel free to ignore this ask) what do actual palestinians think of hamas? I'm not asking to sow any discord or to "catch" you out, I'm asking purely out of curiosity. from where I'm from, people generally view hamas and the houthis positively (and by people i mean the vast Muslim majority of pro-palestine supporters) but i have seen than some Palestinians don't hold them in such a high regard. similarly some people supported the IRA whereas other irish people strongly were against them - so I'm wondering if this is a similar situation? again if this ask is uncomfortable for you to answer , don't feel obligated to
this ask is uncomfortable but i'll still answer because i think it's important.
we as palestinians are sick of getting asked about this. it's asked as though every palestinian somehow has the same opinion on hamas and that each singular palestinian can speak for the rest of the population, which is obviously not true. i don't know every palestinians' opinion on hamas and i cannot list every opinion out there because not all of us agree on one single thing. each palestinian has their own opinion on hamas and honestly, it doesn't matter. we are tired of this question. we don't care about hamas anymore. this shit isn't about hamas at this point. 30000+ palestinians are dead and people are STILL talking about hamas as if that's actually important and rather than protesting for a ceasefire or fighting for a free palestine.
my opinion on hamas is different than my friends' opinions on hamas. my opinion on hamas is different than my parents' opinion on hamas. my opinion on hamas is different than my palestinian mutuals' opinion on hamas. my opinion on hamas is different than a lot of other palestinians who are involved. palestinians who keep getting asked this are tired. we are so tired. i appreciate that you are asking in good faith, but we don't want to talk about hamas anymore. we want to have a free palestine. we want our children to stop dying. we want to return to our land.
my personal opinion is that i don't really care about them. i don't care for their policies or their political goals. i only support them because they are one of the largest and efficient groups who are trying to liberate palestine. many palestinians share this same opinion. they do not support hamas as a whole, but they still appreciate that hamas is trying to fight for a liberated palestine. we support their efforts for the fight against the occupation, but past that we do not care or do not support them outside of that. what they do as a political group isn't something that i'm interested in, because i'd much rather be focused on freeing and rebuilding palestine.
some palestinians hate hamas. my parents dislike them, but they won't criticize them for trying to fight against the occupation, because they know that hamas is one of the most powerful groups of resistance in palestine, and will not go against their efforts to try to help palestine. some palestinians love hamas. some palestinians don't care about hamas. every palestinian is different, but in the end it doesn't matter. hamas is fighting for the same goal as the rest of us. a free palestine.
@el-shab-hussein has a post on his own opinion on hamas that i think is worth the read.
in the end, it doesn't matter about what our opinions on hamas are. because hamas only exists because of israel. if israel didn't exist, hamas wouldn't exist. hamas is a large group working for the resistance and hamas isn't the reason of palestinians' suffering. israel is.
@fairuzfan says: "I know this was sent in good faith but it doesn't really matter what Palestinians opinions on hamas are because even before hamas existed 750,000 Palestinians were exiled and killed."
we suffered before hamas existed and we will continue to suffer as long as israel is in power. so again, it doesn't matter what palestinians' - or really anyone's - opinion is on hamas. what we should be focusing on is fighting for a ceasefire, fighting for a free palestine, and fighting for a free world.
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aphrogeneias · 8 months
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𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫, 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐞 — squirting
pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader
warnings: shy!reader (not "innocent" or inexperienced, just a little more reserved). penetrative sex.
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Chrissy didn't know what she was doing.
It was an innocent question — as innocent as the questions being raised could be, that night. The conversation had quickly descended into more risqué subjects after Steve had gotten a little too tipsy and started complaining about his lack of luck on his latest escapades.
Nothing out of the ordinary, really. You were all used to talking about sex in one way or another. Eddie was famously loud about it, always having a story to tell, his or otherwise. Stories that made you imagine yourself on the receiving end of, guiltily wanting your friend to do those same things he was describing to you.
You kept those fantasies to yourself, though. Not wanting to be teased by the girls, maybe even worse, have them try to set you up with him. You wouldn't be able to live with yourself if Eddie ever rejected you, or dated you out of pity. There was no scenario where this would work in your mind, no "you and Eddie", just you and your thoughts of him, where he would never hurt you, where all he did was make you feel good, imagining it his hands on your body, roaming until they found that place between your legs, instead of your own.
That night, it was no different. After Steve started the conversation, there was no stopping it. You often listened more than talked — not due to lack of experience, you were just a little too shy to share too much, even among close friends — but when the talk switched to Robin commenting about making her girlfriend squirt, you slipped.
"Good for her."
Your reply may have sounded a little more bitter than you'd anticipated, because, one by one, all of your friends looked at you. Maybe it was the scoff that has left your mouth, maybe it was the alcohol that had loosened your tongue. 
"What was that?" Nancy asked, raising a perfectly groomed eyebrow at you.
"Yeah. What was that?" This time, it was Eddie who repeated her question. He sat on the opposite couch with his legs spread, tight black jeans stretching on his lean legs, making you wish you sat between them. You avoided his eyes.
"Nothing. I mean…", you signed, already regretting having said anything, "it's good! Good for her. Robin is good to her, that's a good thing."
You cringed even before you could finish all those convoluted sentences.
"Honey, have you ever… you know," Chrissy asked from her place on the floor, sitting as delicate as a fairy. "squirted?"
"No." You said, simply. Scared to run your mouth even more. "It's not a big deal. Doesn't happen to everybody."
"Have you tried?" Steve asked from behind his beer. He got a myriad of answers ranging from "that's not how It works, dingus!" from Robin, "it's not a matter of trying" from Nancy and "don't ask that, dude" from Eddie.
"I don't even know where to start, Steve. And before anyone asks, yes, I have cum from sex. Just not… like that."
You wanted to crawl into the nearest hole. It was even worse when you could feel Eddie's eyes on you, like he could see right through you. He tilted his head, and you weren't able to handle the kindness in his brown eyes. You looked away.
Your friends' opinions diverged again, making questions and trying to get you to speak, but you couldn't deal with their scrutiny anymore.
"C'mon, guys. It's fine! Can we change the subject, please?" You tried to swerve them. "Like I said, it's not a big deal. Maybe I'm just broken like that."
They shrugged. You shrugged. They moved on — but Eddie's eyes stayed on you for the rest of the night.
You're on Eddie's passenger seat, right in front of your apartment building, later that night when he brings the subject up again.
"I don't think you're broken."
The two of you had spent the entire ride silent, which was odd since Eddie was the chatterbox between the two of you, always filling the gaps with anything that would cross his mind. Neither that, nor his music filled the silence between you.
"What?" You looked at him, still not believing what you'd heard.
"You said that maybe you were broken like that. That's not true, you're… you're perfect."
That feeling of wanting to hide came back tenfold, making your eyes fill with tears. "Eddie, forget about it, please."
"Hey," he brought your gaze back to him with a finger to your chin, delicately turning your head. "I meant what I said. You're perfect, it's just that no one's taken the time to treat you right. It takes patience, from both sides."
"Yeah, and?"
"I was thinking that maybe I could change that. If you'd let me."
One thing you'd always admired about Eddie was his strength of conviction. He never said anything he didn't believe in, and backed it all up. His voice never faltered, he doesn't shy away from speaking his mind — and you hated that you were forcing yourself to disbelieve him.
"Eddie…"
"Look at me." He pleaded, and in spite of your concerns, you did as he told. His eyes bore into your with a sincerity that was so painfully him. "You can say no. I'll go home and we'll forget about everything I just said. But, sweetheart… I'm dying to prove you wrong."
Eventually, he did.
After you'd gotten up the stairs to your floor kissing and tugging at each other's clothes, letting Eddie's tongue taste yours over and over, stopping to let yourself be cornered against the wall by him. Getting lost in the feeling of his solid body against yours, the smell of him — a strong, masculine perfume, cigarettes and beer — making you dizzy, his lips on your neck making you even dizzier.
After he took your clothes off halfway down your living room, reverencing your body with his rough hands, kneeling between your feet in the middle of your halfway. He made you cum for the first time that night with his mouth, kissing your pussy the way he kissed your mouth, sucking on your clit the same way he sucked on your tongue. You came as you pulled his hair, his strong arms around your hips preventing you from falling.
After he guided you to your bed, still craving a taste of you. Hands not knowing where to sit still while he pulled another orgasm from you, his fingers deep within you, curling and stroking your walls, his mouth still not leaving your clit. Your ears buzzed with the force of your climax, not being able to hear Eddie's praise. "That's my girl," he said, head resting on the plush of your thigh, looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky, "doing such a good job, but I'm not done with you yet."
After he made your eyes blur with pleasure when you finally entered you, rubbing the head of his cock on your sensitive bundle of nerves, once, twice, three times before putting it in, slowly bottoming out. Leaving kisses all over your face, shining with sweat. You didn't think you could take it, curling your toes and hugging his narrow hips with your spread legs, feeling each thrust with a tenderness you never did before.
After he filled and stretched you to the brim, pulling out only to push it all in again. Uttering against your skin, broken whimpers, your name on his lips like a prayer. You were beyond the point of forming words, kissing him to stop yourself from screaming. You could feel yourself dripping down your pussy, and into the sheets, soaking Eddie's cock.
After he pulled your thigh higher up his waist, and stood on his knees, pounding into you with measured speed. He hit your spot over, and over, and over — you grabbed the sheets with both hands, repeating his name like a broken record, music to his ears.
"Yeah? That feels good, baby? Am I making you feel good?" Eddie looked like a god above you. Wild hair down to his shoulders, pale skin slick with sweat, eyes drilled on you. You made the mistake of looking down to where your bodies met, watching his thick cock drenched with your juices, going in and out of you. His pubic hair, also matted with your wetness, creating a delicious friction against your clit. "Tell me. Who's making you feel this good?"
"You, Eddie." You whimpered. "You, you, you. Always you."
"That's right, baby. That's" a hard thrust, "fucking," a a squeeze of your thigh, "right."
You felt your orgasm approach with a  deep pressure on your navel, building and building until you couldn't keep It down anymore. You let yourself go, the ringing in your ears louder and cleared, cumming with Eddie's name on your lips.
That's when you felt it. You were limp in your bed, with Eddie above you. You'd felt him cum too, dropping his weight above you, but still keeping himself steady by his elbows. but everything was distant, like it was happening in a dream. Slowly, you came back to yourself — to Eddie, gently coaxing you with sweet words, and to the warm wetness coating your thighs, your ass, and Eddie's lower half.
"Did I…?"
"Fuck yeah, you did." His boyish smile, so different from the confident smirk you saw not moments ago, made you smile too, weakly and still a little embarrassed, but too satisfied to care.
"Happy now?"
"Only when you do it again." 
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actual-changeling · 7 months
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we do not talk enough about the moment right before crowley puts his sunglasses back on. the "nothing lasts forever" is devastating and if you're like me your eyes were so full of tears you couldn't see the screen the first time you watched it (just like crowley, look at us all twinning in sadness!).
there is a shift that happens in his eyes and i think it is absolutely fascinating and heartbreaking at the same time.
we begin with crowley averting his gaze from aziraphale's face and staring off into the distance instead, and you can see his spirit break. that crowley just lost the one thing in the world he cannot live without and we can see it written across his face like a neon sign.
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then, as you'd expect, he gives into the need to cover up his pain, to try and make himself less vulnerable, and even before he lifts his glasses he looks down so aziraphale can no longer see his eyes.
now, the next part is what would not let me out of its grasp all day. we know it happens because of his demeanour afterwards and up until the kiss, but you can actually watch as crowley makes himself numb to the world.
i am intimately familiar with dissociation as a trauma and stress response, and while you can never fully control it, you do eventually find the switch in your mind that makes you snap back into the haze. crowley has had six thousand years to get really, really good at leaving reality behind when he needs and/or wants to.
that's exactly what he does.
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he still looks sad, and yet there's just something distinctly distant in his eyes, the shift from openly heartbroken to "i don't want to feel any of this let me leave".
glasses? on
emotions? off
hotel? trivago
i have stared at those four frames more than any person probably should and i don't know if it's the light, if i am going insane, or if there is a single tear sliding out of his right (our left) eye. i'm probably insane and the light is a bitch so if anyone has some high resolution shots or anything that could answer that question without a doubt PLEASE do add it.
by now you are probably ready to threaten me with a knife in a dark alley but before you do that or drive your car off a cliff, let me tell you the best part:
aziraphale notices.
they might be communicating on two different frequencies but aziraphale knows crowley. he knows and loves him, and, most importantly, over the last few years he has gotten used to seeing crowley without his glasses. aziraphale could probably write a book on the expressions in his eyes alone and watches that shift happen and is devastated.
look.
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he tries to make himself hope the same second, tries to convince himself crowley is putting on his glasses so they can leave together, but he knows.
aziraphale sees the light leave crowley's eyes, sees crowley leave, knowing that he is quite literally running away from him. you and me against the world, angel, but in that moment crowley firmly pushes him back to "the world" (or tries to, anyway).
the entire season we see crowley take off his glasses whenever he enters the bookshop to the point where he's running around without them on in broad daylight with jimbriel right there.
can you imagine how hurt and confused aziraphale must be?
because what crowley is telling him, if we really, really break it down, is that aziraphale is no longer a safe person for him. and repairing that trust is going to take time and work, no matter how much crowley loves him, how badly they love and need each other.
anyway to seal this off and really rub in the pain - how it started vs. how it ended. <3
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oh one last thing: now crowley no longer has a single person he can be himself around, no one that knows him, no one he trusts. no one in whose presence he can take his glasses off.
and outside of the bentley and his own flat, he no longer has a place to do so either. the bookshop was theirs. with aziraphale gone, is it really a safe place anymore? is it somewhere he can just let himself be knowing he will be looked after and protected?
easy answer: no.
alright, off i go. see y'all on the next angst post or in the tags.
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muntitled · 8 months
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𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐖𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧
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→ Mingyu x Fem!reader
→ Summary: "If you wanted me to get you pregnant so bad, all you had to was ask."
→ Warnings: Established Relationship, Domestic Fluff, Businessman au, Humour, Slight!Body Dysmorphia, Insecurities, Workaholic!Reader, Shy!Reader, Slight Male Manipulation, Slight!Angst, Smut (+18), Semi!Public Sex, Slight Coercion, Needy!Mingyu, He Whimpers, Pervy!Mingyu, Corruption Kink, Desperate Sex, Massive Breeding kink, Mingyu has a choking kink, and a Praise kink, Slight!Daddy Kink, Unprotected Sex
Mingyu likes getting choked, pls argue with the wall
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The dollop of heat in your stomach steadily grew into a pool of molten lava throughout the duration of the award ceremony. The entire televised event was supposed to be in celebration of your husband and the diligence he has extended to the company for all of 2 decades.
Instead, most of the evening is spent nursing your anxiety with a flute of champagne, while you attempt to not sweat through your very expensive makeup under the heat of multiple strobe lights.
Mingyu, sitting at the table beside you serves as your only anchor, keeping your feet planted firmly to the ground while the rest of the table exchange pleasantries involving baby pictures and ultrasounds.
The dread in your stomach only multiplies.
You've been made privy to how they speak about you and your husband behind gloved hands in hushed whispers. A husband who has had to be burdened with a wife whose internal clock was no match for the importance of a career. Perhaps they thought you were too self important and too driven. Perhaps that explains why you were always invited to events out of courtesy and never out of true interest. Perhaps-
"Stop that." Mingyu's voice travels to your ear at a low and conspiratorial baritone while the rest of wives and husband at the table talk animatedly.
"Stop what?" You ask while Mingyu draws your attention to his hand now resting on your thigh underneath the table.
"Don't play with me. I can tell when you're overthinking," He says, letting his palm brush over the sequins of your pitch black dress. It matched his all black suit to rude perfection, truly making you believe you were the best dressed couple in the whole event. "If you're gonna be thinking about something, I'd rather it be the likelihood of me eating you out in this dress after we're done."
His words succeed in dragging your thoughts away from the happy couples and their happy families and you meet his eyes and the amusement swimming within them.
"Is sex really all you think about-"
Mingyu answers your question by suddenly grabbing a hold of your hand and forcing your palm over his lap until your palm is lightly grazing the bulge forming there.
"Let's hope this ends soon so we can get the fuck out of here." The rest of the event was spent with you, staring down at the table in a mindless, lustful daze while Mingyu still guided your palm up and down the bulge in his pants. It was conspicuous enough for it to look like his hand was simply resting atop yours, if anyone really got particularly nosy. Luckily, everyone else was too drunk on overpriced soju to recognize Mingyu's forced self pleasuring while he took casual little sips from his glass intermittently.
You were both relieved once it was time to go home.
This inability to adapt into the upper echelons of housewife society had not bothered you initially and it certainly did not bother your husband. In fact, someone as aloof and optimistic as Mingyu was seldom concerned with the matters of holding face for a backwards capitalistic society.
"If we weren't rich I thoroughly believe we would be those 'eat the rich' people." Mingyu announces as he trails into the bathroom behind you. The overhead lights bathe the bathroom's onyx accents in a dim light, successfully relaxing you and easing the bundle of knots that had built up in your shoulders.
Mingyu seems equally pleased to be back home, kicking off his Abercrombie loafers and watching them fly into a corner while he undoes the buttons of his jet black dress shirt. His tall frame is hunched over as he wraps his arms around your stomach, allowing you to lead him to the bathroom sinks with heavy footsteps like a 187 centimetre baby.
You, of course, do not object when he pushes his head into the space between your neck and shoulder as you begin to brush your teeth. If the award ceremony was as draining for him as it was for you, then this truly is the first moment he is able to let himself go the entire day.
"I think we can still be those 'eat the rich' people because it's not like we're rich by choice, right?" Seeing your husband constantly run the risk of impending communism would be amusing, were it not for the sour taste still present in your mouth from the work event Mingyu had just taken you too.
"At least you got to watch me in my element-" He grumbles against your skin before begrudgingly peeling himself off of you to make his way to his side of the bathroom,
"Ugh," Mingyu groans with exaggeration as he commences with his skin care, "You literally got to watch your sexy and talented husband accept a corporate award in a room full of people. I'm so jealous of you,"
"Ugh, I know!" You nod back, "Jihoon looked so good on that podium. Remind me to send him a message later." You evade Mingyu's deadpan look through the oval shaped mirror as you continue to brush.
"On a serious note, Gyu, I'm glad you had fun while I was being forced to entertain those industry housewives." You momentarily stop your brushing, "I'm thoroughly overwhelmed by ultrasounds!" You exclaim frustratedly through a gurgle of toothpaste. The very thought of those women shot your blood pressure to hell.
Their idealistic lives and their idealistic vaginas that could somehow push out a steady stream of babies before snapping back as if nothing ever happened. Business as usual.
Meanwhile, your body threw a tantrum the very second you even had a vague thought of eating something outside the bounds of your diet.
Mingyu adored every part of you - you know this - but that nauseating feeling of inadequacy always crept up on you in moments of weakness.
You sigh, "I think those women have magical vaginas."
"Hey." Mingyu says, patting down his face, "All women have magical vaginas but you especially."
You swiftly ignore him and continue your furious brushing as you say, "Every single day it's 'This one is pregnant!' 'This one wants to get pregnant,' 'This one is trying to get pregnant!'" You rant, completely oblivious to the way Mingyu watches you through the mirror as you continue.
"'I'm not quite sure when it became socially accessible for couples to just air out their breeding kinks to the public-" an ungentlemanly snort escapes through Mingyu's mouth and he pauses to shake his head and compose himself.
"I'm ultra-sounded out!" You exclaim, finally bending over to spit out a wad of toothpaste. In your periphery, Mingyu watches you with that passive look of contentment and unwavering adoration that almost never seems to leave his face in your presence.
Despite his overly humorous tendencies at times, Mingyu also harboured the habit of reading in between the lines - he had to, not only for his job but for his romantic life as well. Being blessed with a shy partner meant Mingyu had to dig just a little deeper past the veneer of everything you say, to get just a little closer to what you actually meant.
Your shyness and stoicism is what initially drew him to you in the first place. Always beating around the proverbial bush to protect your most sacred dignity and independence. It was always a struggle for Mingyu but it turned him on way too easily to picture his put-together, independent little wife needing him in a way she might not even know.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" You ask quietly, lifting your head before reigning your braids into a ponytail.
"How am I looking at you?" Mingyu asks in a voice way too husky to harbour any sense of professionalism.
"Are you seriously turned on right now?" There is no use in denying it because Mingyu knew you could read him like an open book. There's a soberness that hits him when he's turned on.
He jokes less than usual and assumes a more… slutty disposition that neither him nor you have ever been able to tame. Mingyu rubs the excess cream into his hands before leaning against the marble countertops. He watches you with a small, dangerous smirk that sends a flurry of butterflies swimming the pits of your stomach.
"If you wanted me to get you pregnant so badly, all you had to do was ask." His sentence bulldozes through the silence, steals the air right out of your lungs and nearly sweeps your feet out from underneath you. The world practically spins for a second but you grapple desperately onto your sensibilities for your sensibilities are one of the very few things you can arm yourself against your husband's slutty seduction.
"I think I could've squeezed you into my busy schedule," He chuckles lightly before stepping forward.
Almost automatically you step backwards, which evidently gets Mingyu way too excited. He raises his eyebrows with a slight before he's closing the distance between the two of you with 2 wide strides.
The light pouring down from the ceiling suddenly feels too warm, and the air feels like you've teleported to a crowded bazaar in the centre of the desert. You refuse to make eye contact with Mingyu, looming over you. You only splay a hand against his chest as you attempt to chuckle.
"You're being ridiculous." You say, "If you need to cum so bad, use your hand."
"Nah," He shakes his head without ever breaking eye contact, "That would be a waste, wouldn't it?" Mingyu's eyes frantically search your features for the same traces of lust so shamelessly displayed across his own visage. His lips are parted with his quiet breathing. "Just tell me what you want me to do, and I'll do it."
It felt like a betrayal on everything you held dear, admitting that the idea of him cumming inside you with the purpose of getting you pregnant turned you on. It felt like a betrayal on your career and your goals and aspirations.
However, Mingyu's sensibilities are completely clouded by unshakeable lust. He is so easily stimulated by every single thing about you, the softness of your body, the familiarity of your scent and the mental image of seeing you actually pregnant with his child. It has him pushing you further against the bathroom wall until the coolness of the stone sank steadily through your night dress.
Mingyu's hand immediately rips the offending article of clothing, pushing your night dress up slowly and feeling his own cock ache at how you silently comply.
"It's really easy, baby. I just need you to tell me you want me to cum in that little pussy of yours and I'll do it. Just wanna…" Mingyu's incoherence during states of exceptional lust always succeeded in making you absolutely wet. He became an insatiable, talkative and blubbering mess.
"...Just wanna make you happy," His breathing picks up almost as easily as yours, and inside himself, Mingyu releases a shotgun prayer that you want this just as bad as he does. He hopes your mind has been flooded with the exact same fantasies of him, sliding his bare cock into your soaking cunt. Him ramming into you and finishing inside of you and-
"Ah- fuck," He hisses, unable to get your panties down all the way before he's letting his fingers drift across your slippery folds. "Look at how wet you are, baby. You really do want me to cum inside your pretty little pussy, don't you?"
Mingyu's cock twitches uncomfortably in his pants while he drifts his fingers over your puffy clit, pulling a strangled moan from your throat.
"Feels good, baby?" He whimpers before slotting his hips between your legs. Mingyu's breath is warm against the side of your face as he continues to rub infuriating circles on your clit. "I can make you feel even better baby… if you let me fuck you, I can make us both feel good, yeah?" He's a whining mess - you both are as your hips move in tandem against his hands.
"Fuck, baby I need you to tell me you want this. I need you to tell me I can throw away the condoms, that I can cum inside you-"
"F-Fuck, Daddy," Your slip-up would've gone perfectly unnoticed, were it not for the heavy, almost oppressive silence between the two of you in the bathroom. Mingyu's ears perk up like a puppy that had just heard his favorite word, and he pulls himself away to gaze deeply into your eyes with adoration and awe. Mingyu's pink lips hang open as he scrambles back up to his height. He cups your cheeks with both hands, and you lean into his warm calluses as his thumbs rub gentle circles on your cheek.
The kiss he leaves on your nose is delicate and romantic.
The perfect calm before the proverbial storm.
Mingyu then nods slowly as he says, "Well now I'm definitely going to fuck you," the conviction and the bass in his voice urges a pathetic whimper through your lips and you're left to comply limply as Mingyu places a palm on your exposed thigh. He lifts you up until your leg is locked firmly around his hip and he's almost perfectly slotted between your bare legs. The feeling of having him so close to you, in such a starkly intimate position leaves you both momentarily speechless and you're watching each other as if terrified of breaking this spell of lust.
Mingyu is deliberate in his actions as he moves his hand to pull his cock out of his pants, all without breaking eye contact.
"Don't play with me like this, baby," it's the most serious he has ever been, and your back is almost moulded to the wall as Mingyu lines the tip of his aching cock to your dripping cunt. "I was literally so close to cumming in my pants, so if you're playing with me right now-"
"Mingyu," your voice is airy as you push your hips forward, taking initiative, as you always did, until the head of his cock was prodding your entrance. He shivers greatly before stealing a glance down at his cock entering you so swiftly, before he gazes deep into your eyes once more.
"If you want me…" Mingyu whispers as he fully sheathes his cock inside you, overcome by yet another violent shiver. "Baby, you have me."
The first thrust is nearly cataclysmic and he has to stop himself from cumming on the spot. Seeing him so incredibly turned on, so ready to burst at the seams has your cunt clenching around him, pulling him deeper and deeper until his gigantic cock was stretching your cunt to what felt like its limits. That second thrust completely drains him of all his composure and soon Mingyu's fucking you relentlessy into the wall as if he both hated you and loved you and did not know which was which.
Your mouth hangs open as you watch him absolutely ravage you. His dark eyes are hooded with lust and he's babbling his incoherent sentences while his long, messy hair brushes over his cheeks. He is absolutely fargone as he thrusts his hips into you, while his other hand is stationed against the wall above you. "Thank you for letting me do this, baby," he damn near whimpers as he pushes himself harder and faster into you, unable to stop the neediness from sinking into his tone. "Thank you, thank you, thank you-"
"You're doing so well baby" You whisper, causing his hips to stutter against yours while a pained moan releases itself from your throat.
Your mouth is still hanging open and Mingyu takes the opportunity to dip down and crash his lips onto yours. The kiss is furious and desperate and you realise this is exactly what you love about him. You appreciate how easy it is to please him, how unashamed Mingyu is of displaying his emotions. He is loud and passionate and it drives you absolutely insane.
"Fuck-I'm close," He breathes, as he peppers kisses along your face. His hand squeezes desperately at your breasts as he pants in your ear. "Tell me to cum inside you- pleasepleaseplease,"
You are operating purely on the lust distributed from Mingyu's incessant whining and whimpering until an idea strikes you so vividly you almost wonder why you had not done this before.
In between your feverish panting and Mingyu's ravaging motions, you delve your head into his hair before peeling his face away from you. His eyebrows are furrowed in confusion before you slither your hand down to lock your palm around the his throat. Your hand doesn't fully enclose his neck but you succeed in adding pressure, causing the man before you to roll his eyes into the back of his skull in absolutely ecstasy-
"Oh fuck-I'm cumming-" his body spasms before you in a euphoric daze, quickly triggering your own orgasm as you continue to choke him and move your hips in tandem with his cock.
"Fuck, oh fuck!" He swears as he clamps his hand around your thigh as if begging to spread you wider, to push in deeper until he's filling you up completely with his load. It's messy and so wildly intimate, you're both lost in the crevices of your own respective pleasure. How anyone could make someone feel as completed as you two currently feel is so unimaginable, you both struggle to find the words. Mingyu is a panting mess above you while you attempt to ease your runway heart.
It strikes you then that you're perhaps afraid, now that the lust has cleared that the post nut clarity might rid him of his earlier statements.
All you do is watch as he places another kiss on the tip of your nose before easing his cock out of you.
"I'll run out to buy Plan B tomorrow. You don't have to -"
He shushes you almost immediately as he pads over the bathroom sink. Mingyu hums softly as he ruffles through the medicine cabinet until he finds what he's looking for. All you can do is watch as he dumps the entire contents of your birth control pills down the toilet. He never breaks eye contact, only maintaining a wide slightly manic smile.
<3
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thevoidstaredback · 1 month
Text
"If I turn around and there's a hero, vigilante, anti hero, villain, anything or anyone related in anyway to the Justice League, I'm going to fucking lose."
It was quiet for a second, then, "Don't turn around?"
Red fucking Robin. "What did I just say?" Phantom turned on his heel to face the young vigilante.
The kid threw his hands up, "I told you not to turn around!"
"And yet here we are," he crossed his arms. "The hell do you want?"
"You seem awfully snippy today."
"Seeing as you and everyone under the sun has been stalking me, trying to get answers to questions I'm not going to answer, I think you can excuse my attitude."
With a huff, Red Robin also crossed his arms. "How do you know what I'm going to ask if no one else has been able to talk to you?"
"Because living beings are all the same. Curiosity of the unknown drags you around by your ear." Phantom turned back to continue walking away, "Now go away."
The kid matched his pace. "No way,"
His eyebrow twitched ever so slightly. "I have a meeting soon, kid. You can't come along." That was a total lie. He had nothing going on that demanded his attention now that Constantine had ditched him after getting the demon under control. Maybe he could drop by Fawcett and visit Billy?
"No you don't." This damn kid-! "You've been wandering aimlessly for the past hour."
Phantom turned again to face the vigilante. "First of all, stalking people is hella creepy. Second of all, my schedule is none of your damn business."
"Careful there, kid," Red Robin smirked, "You'll get scolded for having a potty mouth."
"I'm thirty-fucking-eight!"
"You're literally fourteen."
Phantom closed his eyes. "Nocturn give me patience," he then looked Red Robin directly in the eye, "We've had this conversation. I'm dead. I don't physically age. That doesn't change the fact that I have walked this planted for thirty-eight years. Is that simple enough for you to understand or do I need to dumb it down for you?"
Red Robin blinked, his mouth agape. What? Did he just- The nerve! The audacity! "I'll have you know," he huffed, "I'm smarter than Batman."
"He tell you that himself?"
"Yes." It was one of the only times Batman had ever praised him, so that interaction was held particularly close.
Phantom looked Red Robin up and down, his expression reading both 'are-you-serious' and 'what-do-want?-a-medal?' Without a word, he turned back to his path and began his march anew. Any attempts at conversation from Red Robin was ignored, much to the younger's chagrin. Maybe he'd go away if he ignored him long enough.
Phantom and Red Robin wandered for the better part of an hour, not so much as a word passing between them. Neither stopped for any reason, and neither broke the set pace. It could almost be considered a friendly stroll through the city, if one ignored the slight apprehension surrounding the two.
Red Robin took this time to observe Phantom. He'd never spent too much time around anyone from the JLD who wasn't Raven, so he took the opportunity to get to know another on the team.
Phantom insisted that he was thirty-eight, not fourteen, and that the reason he looks as young as he does is because he looks like he did when he died. Not a comforting thought in the slightest. He knew that, though, when B had briefed him on all the members of or associated with the Justice League.
His powerset was almost completely unknown. They'd all seen him use a flight/levitation ability, as well as some form of density shifting and a healing factor, but Red Robin was more than sre that Phantom had more up his sleeve than that. He worked as a part of the JLD team, so he had to have some magical understanding or capabilities. But Raven wouldn't tell him if she knew, no matter how much he pestered her.
Looking at the kid now, Red Robin seriously wondered if Phantom had a civilian disguise. Ether white hair, toxic green eyes, the glow he seems to give off, and the contrasting bright white and vantablack suit and gloves he wore could not be easy to hide.
There was also a slight sense of unease Red Robin felt when looking at or being around Phantom for a long time. He hadn't noticed it before, but now it was as obvious as a neon sign. It was a strange mix of Uncanny Valley and sinking horror. Why was he feeling like this?
Phantom stopped in his tracks in a dead end alley. Without turning around he said, "Alright, spit it out. What do you want to ask?"
Red Robin hesitated for a moment. Surely it couldn't be that easy? Was Phantom really going to answer his questions? He shook his head to snap himself out of it.
"Come on, kid," Phantom pulled a piece of chalk from his front pocket. "I don't have all day."
Red Robin wanted to scoff because he most certainly did have all day. But, he pushed it aside. He was about to get answers that not even the Justice League could get! He decided to start of easy. "When did you die?"
"Try again." was the growled response.
"What?"
"I said 'Try again'."
Okay, okay. Touchy. "Why'd you join the Justice League?"
"I was bored." It was clipped. Phantom's on edge. Why?
"What're the rest of your powers? I know you have more than what you've shown everyone."
Phantom walked to the wall and started to draw a door on it with the chalk. "Next question."
Red Robin rolled his eyes. "Fine. How did you die?"
Every movement from Phantom froze. Every minute, involuntary twitch, even the telling signs of breathing. For a long minute, nothing happened and Red Robin had the dawning sense that he'd just asked something he really shouldn't have.
Phantom drew a circle in the rectangle he'd drawn on the wall, completing the door. "I'm going to give you a piece of advice that you seem to have completely glossed over." The piece of chalk was hidden away as he gripped the now 3D door handle. "If you value your life, don't ask the dead how they died." He opened the door and stepped through before looking back at the red clad vigilante. "They won't be so nice about it." Then, the door closed and the chalk erased itself.
Part 6 Part 8
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nickfowlerrr · 5 months
Text
sit me on your throne.
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pairing: geralt of rivia x curvy!reader
warnings: i don't know what i'm writing about but if you're here for smut, there's smut. 18+ only. probably ooc - i've only seen season one. if i'm missing something that needs to be tagged please let me know.
words: 4.3k
notes: i really truly do not know. forgive me not.
thank you in advance for reading! any thoughts, comments, and reblogs are so appreciated. let me know what you think. (unless its mean then pls don't).
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"You kneel before me?"
Your question is born of nothing but pure confusion as you tilt your head in bemusement at the bulking behemoth of a man before you.
He hadn’t done as much when he first arrived, not to your displeasure, so it was odd to see him do it now - especially after the battle he has just fought.
He is at your feet, his long white hair darker and dingier now, dirty as his clothes and skin; marred with caked mud and what you can only assume is the blood and guts of the beast he has defeated.
The stench he carries with him is pungent, nothing but putrid, and yet that somehow doesn't take from his striking good looks; those paired with his brevity and bluntness have held your attention from the moment he stepped foot in your kingdom.
He is a man of little words, this Geralt of Rivia. His jester of a companion having done much of the speaking - perhaps too much - for him since they arrived.
Geralt says nothing still, only meets your gaze as he takes steady breaths. His yellow eyes, feline and harsh, cut through you in a number of ways - none of which you'd care to share aloud. You have a feeling he knows, however, just how affected you are by him no matter how well you think you hide it.
You are alone together, no guards at the ready, no advisors by your side. Most of your kingdom is now quiet and abandoned, including the halls of your once flourishing and lively home. The halls of this castle have been eerily silent since the night your men went on their mission to save their homestead. You had already sent word for The Witcher, you implored them to keep safe indoors until his arrival. They did not listen. Most of them still having seen you as the young princess you once were, the others simply following the orders of their leaders. You may have been their "Queen", but their faith in their commanders was stronger.
Those commanders who led them to their deaths... You still sigh at the loss.
Those who were not taken, slain, by the beast have long since fled for their lives. You cannot blame them. But you certainly could not join them. Your castle once held many souls, but now it is only you and a handful of others. Titles of servants, but you really never were one for titles.
"Your friend?" you wonder.
"Somewhere," he answers shortly, his voice low and deep as he speaks.
You quirk a brow, "Safe?"
"For as long as he keeps himself from trouble."
You hum, a hint of a smile pulling at the corner of your lips. Their relationship amuses you, you must admit.
"You needn't kneel, Witcher," you implore as you sit back on the throne. It is yours in name alone. It has never felt right to sit in. He seems to sense your unease, but he doesn't speak it. You continue, "You have done what you said you would, I will do the same."
Still, he doesn't stand. Not until you flick your eyes and move to stand yourself. He rises easily as he stands before you still. There is not much distance between you, and the stench of him stings your eyes and threatens to gag you. Your face scrunches in disgust as you turn it away from him, grimacing.
"I've had a bath readied for you, and new clothes set aside," you inform him, moving to pass around. He follows you, and you can feel the weight of his gaze as his eyes cling to you. "Your meals will be served as soon as you're done. I don't imagine anyone would be able to stomach a bite with that smell coming off of you."
He says nothing but lets out an amused "hm" at your words, still following as you lead him to the bathing room.
You thank Amaleah as you enter and she leaves with a nod to you, her breath catching when she smells Geralt enter behind you. It's as fast an exit as you've ever seen.
You move toward the bath and wade a hand in the water. It's a bit hot for your preferences but it should get him clean. You ensure the soap Amaleah brought in is fragrant enough and still look for some nicer oils to add to the water; when you turn around to ask your guest his want, you find yourself stunned silent as you're met with the sight of his broad, bare chest. His muscles flex under his pale and scarred skin as he moves, his solid chest is covered in dark hair, trailing down his torso. His arms are strong and big and a thought at the back of your mind wonders how comfortable he must be to lie with.
You blink, mouth parted slightly as you take a breath. You watch his clothing fall as he discards them and your gaze follows his hand as he begins to strip himself of the rest of his garments.
He is completely shameless as he watches you watch him. You feel as if you are in a trance, you cannot bring yourself to look away despite the heavy weight of his gaze assuring you he sees you staring.
It’s not an act of brazenness, truly you would look away and leave him at once…if you could.
“I’ve slain your monster,” he speaks and your eyes rise back to his chest, trying to ignore the heaviness of his thick cock as it hangs so temptingly before you. No, not temptingly…Shamelessly. He has put himself entirely on display before you, without an ounce of shame or concern, and you are still frozen to your spot. “Was there something else you required of me, Your Highness?”
The title gets your attention, the breath caught in your chest finally flows and your eyes flick up to meet his. You can't tell entirely if he meant it as an insult or if he thought you'd prefer it to Queen.
You remain quiet for a moment as you try to gather a response. Either way...
“I told you that wasn’t necessary, Witcher.”
“Geralt.”
You swallow hard as he takes a small step forward, and you will yourself to not break his intense gaze.
"Geralt. I thank you, for saving what was left of this ruined kingdom, but I consider myself not princess, nor Queen, any longer."
"Did you ever?" he asks, staring into your eyes a moment longer before he steps closer still, looking you up and down then nudging you aside, eliciting goosebumps along your skin, rising under his touch.
You glance over your shoulder as he continues past you, lowering himself into the tub.
You think.
You know your answer, but you won't say it aloud. Clearly he knows it, too.
You can hear the water sloshing with his movements as he begins to clean himself.
You take a deep breath.
"The clothes will be brought in shortly. You might tell Jaskier when you're done that the food is ready."
"Ah," he says amid his washing, "so you do know his name."
"Of course I do. I've grown quite fond of the bard in the week since you've arrived."
"I couldn't tell," he says plainly, yet still biting - his words sharp with sarcasm.
You furrow your brow at his meaning and then there's a laugh at the door and you look to see Jaskier as he leans on it. "You sound jealous, there, Geralt," he taunts, holding folded clothing in his hands as he pushes off the door to saunter in. "I wouldn't worry. I don't believe I'm the one who's caught her eye." He looks to you with a smirk, bowing before you, "Your Majesty."
"I am no longer queen," you repeat for what feels like the hundredth time.
"My Queen, none the less," he simpers before standing to his full height.
You smile tightly, eyes narrowed playfully at him before you finally move to exit, leaving them to their inevitable quarreling. And trying not to focus on the tingling still affecting you between your legs.
--
You eat with the women in the kitchen; the dining hall one of your least favorite places to be.
There is a calm yet solemn energy around you all. A peace in the slaying of the monster who took your kingdom, and still the grief from the loss of it all, your people, their families, friends...
Calliope readies the plates for your guests as you bid them all a goodnight, kissing Amaleah's son on his head on your way out with a 'sweet dreams'. Since his father was killed, the poor thing has nightmares recurringly. You only hope with the monster's demise, they might ease for him some. He is far too young to be in such pain...
You think to pass by the dining hall on your way to bed to thank Geralt once more and wish them both a goodnight as well but think better of it.
You will see them in the morning before they set off. You still owe him his coin and you know he won't be leaving without it.
--
You open the heavy door of your chamber and once you are inside, begin to undress.
Slipping into your shift, you swiftly make your way into bed. You thought you'd fall asleep quickly, but as you lay there, your mind wanders to thoughts of only one.
You have one hand on your lower belly, the other resting on the soft skin right above it.
You sigh and close your eyes, but all you see when you do is his built form. His dark, firelight stare set on you. His clothes left on the ground as he stands strong in his glory.
You breathe deeply, your hand starting to slowly drift down your stomach as you tickle yourself. You're so tempted to touch where you want it most, but you can't bring yourself to do it. Not just yet.
You slip your hand between your spread thighs, softly running your fingers across the sensitive skin you find there.
It'd been a week of torment, having Geralt so close and not being able to act on your most base feelings. You know he knows what you think when you look at him, if Jaskier can see it, surely, he can too.
You might feel embarrassed but with the way he's managed to get closer and closer to you with each passing day as he awaited the beasts' return, you would wager he feels similarly.
It feels like an age that you lie awake. All the noises about the castle, not that there were many, have settled and it assures you everyone has retired for the night.
Sleep begins to nip at you but the stronger pull is to the dissatisfaction that weighs on you. The emptiness that echos through your body and soul.
Your fingers twitch, and you begin to glide closer to your uncovered core, the need to be touch too much to be ignored for much longer. Your eyes are closed and you imagine it isn't your hand running over your skin, but rather his large, rough palm feeling you, teasing you just so...
Just as you inch closer, your eyes snap open in the dark as a heartbreaking scream cuts through the night air. You sit up, pulling your hands off of yourself. You know immediately where the sound comes from and who it belongs to.
You get out of bed, intent to make sure Hartley and Amaleah both are okay.
You open your door just as the one across the wide hall does the same. You frighten at the unexpected movement but are then unsurprised to be across Geralt.
He is shirtless again, and his eyes are wide as his chest rises and falls with his heavy breaths.
"Are you alright?" he asks, voice hard.
"Yes, I'm fine. It was the boy, Hartley. He has nightmares," you explain, keeping your voice quiet as to not disturb the renewed peace of the night.
The flick of the flame that lights the hallway allows you both to see one another. You say nothing for a moment as your eyes fall to his bare torso.
"Did the clothes not fit?"
He looks down at himself briefly, then back to you. He shakes his head, "I prefer to sleep naked."
You burn at his words, swallowing hard. "Oh. Well, I- I'm going to check on them, make sure they're fine."
"I'll go with you."
It's not a question, it's a statement. You stop in your start, turning to look at him. You say nothing, just blink and quickly carry on as you were.
You make your way down the stairs and down the hall until you see the flames licking at the end of the hallway.
You follow the glow to Amaleah's room and knock gently as you look in the open door.
She turns and looks to you, her eyes tired and cheeks damp as she rocks her toddler in her arms. He is sleeping again as she rubs his back gently, more to soothe herself than anything.
She sniffles, "Your High-" she stops herself, "sorry, forgive me," she whispers.
"Don't apologize. Please," you implore her. "I know it's habit."
"Are you two alright?" Geralt asks from right at your back.
"We are, thank you. Just another nightmare," her voice gets thick at the explanation. You know it hurts her that there isn't anything she can do but be there to comfort him when they come.
You smile sadly and nod. "We'll let you be, then. Do try to get some rest. He'll be okay," you reassure her.
You pull the door nearly closed and wind up with Geralt firmly at your back.
You turn into him but he doesn't seem to mind as he just looks down at you nearly pressed against his chest. You try to budge him to turn and move back down the hall but he doesn't waver. After a second, he relents and steps to the side, allowing you to go back down the hallway first.
It isn't until you come up on the throne room that Geralt speaks again.
"Might I have a word with you?" he asks.
You stop and turn to eye him as he stands at the entryway of the door.
"Now?" you question.
He nods once, "Now."
You approach him trepidatiously, and as you near, he gestures you in the room before him, extending his arm, "Princess."
Your eyes narrow again. And you turn on him, watching as he enters the room behind you. "Why do you keep doing that?"
"What am I doing?"
"Princess? Your Highness?" you quote him.
"I assumed you preferred it to your true title," he tilts his head at you.
"True title," you scoff, rolling your eyes. "I prefer no title at all."
"And what shall I call you then?"
You remind him your name, not that he really needs to be reminded. You know he knows it full well.
He considers you, then closes in on where you stand in front of the throne.
You don't move back, no, you quite like the closeness when he doesn't reek of death and innards.
Geralt seems to appreciate your resolve, his lips twitching with the beginnings of a smile as he studies your face.
"It's a beautiful name," he speaks lowly, taking another step into your space and raising his hand to gently caress your cheek before he leans in to speak against your ear. Your hands touch his solid stomach in an attempt to keep yourself upright, you can feel the muscles as they flex under your delicate graze. "I think I might prefer princess," he husks.
He slips away from you, turning to take a seat on the throne instead. You follow his movements and turn yourself to face him. You're stunned and completely set ablaze all at once.
"Well I don't."
"No," he smirks, agreeing with you, one large hand settling on his thick thigh as he spreads his legs, "you don't."
"It's too bad," he tsks, his voice a smooth rumbling. "No title, no throne."
"I don't want any throne."
Your eyes are glued to his thighs as he brings attention to his lap by rubbing the muscle there.
"None?" he asks before his gaze shifts directly on you, his mesmerizing stare burning into you. His voice lowers deeper than you've ever heard as a desperate longing shoots through you once again, resounding deep in your core. "Not even mine?"
Your mouth goes dry and your brain fuzzy as you take in his meaning.
Unthinking, you step toward him closer.
"You mean to defile the very one you sit on?"
"You don't seem to care for it much anyway."
Another step.
You are nearly stood between his spread legs, carefully you reach out a hand, your fingers light on his thigh. You feel his muscle then, flicking your eyes up. His gaze is dark and heated.
"That's true enough," you say, your voice breathy in a near whisper.
You gasp as your suddenly pulled closer by Geralt's rough hands around your waist. You can feel him through the thin fabric of your shift and its only then you realize how much of your figure he has seen thanks to your nightwear.
"Truer still," he speaks, "I don't mean to defile this throne." He squeezes your plush waist, groping you through your shift as your hands latch onto his solid shoulders. "I mean to defile you."
He manages to pull you onto his lap with little effort, leaning in to crash his lips into yours.
You kiss him back hungrily, chasing his lips as you settle on his lap. Your fingers wind in his hair and you can feel his cock growing beneath you through the material of his pants.
His hands slide down your waist and over your wide hips, reaching for the hem of your shift and pulling it up. His tongue slips past your lips and you moan, shifting your hips atop him.
You pull away, reaching for your dress and pulling it over your head, discarding it behind your back.
Geralt holds you closer, letting his lips explore your heavy breasts as you allow your head to fall back in pleasure, your hands returning to his hair.
"Geralt," you breathe, pulling him off you after a moment.
"Mm," he hums, kissing the swell of your breast once more before he moves to free himself from the restraint of his pants. He knows what you’ve both been wanting for days. What you need.
One heavy hand returns to your back, holding you by your waist while his other grips his red, throbbing cock.
He moves his tip up and down your slick center, making you whimper as he teases you - his cockhead rubbing delightfully against your sensitive clit.
He watches your face scrunch in rapture and holds you tighter to stop your wiggling about as you whimper.
He smiles smugly to himself and when you're just about to open your mouth to protest his teasing, he finally pulls you down on top of him. The sound that escapes you is music to his ears as you grasp onto him, your nails digging into the muscle of his back as your walls squeeze and stretch to accommodate his thick length, the size of him almost too much for you to take.
"Fuck," he groans as your walls tighten around him. He gives you a moment before he begins to urge you to move. He guides your hips, slow and sensually. The feeling of his hands on you motivates you to try and ride him yourself. And you do try, but you cry out again at how big he is, how fully he is stuffing you. You can barely move.
Geralt kisses you as he holds you closer, taking pity on your tight cunt and instead he moves his hands to your soft hips again. He holds you on top of him securely before he begins to fuck up into you.
You mewl as he jostles you, bouncing you up and down his cock, your breasts moving in time.
You pull on his hair, forcing him to look up from where his gaze was fixed, watching his own cock as he stretched you out for him, watching as your cunt took as much of him in as she could, up to your hooded lust filled gaze. You lean into him, chest to chest as you kiss him fervently. His lips follow yours as you taste one another. You nip at his lip and he growls, his hands gripping the ample flesh of your ass, "Keep that up," he snarls.
"And you'll what?" you breathe heavily, eyes screwed shut, jaw tight as you deadbrain on the pleasure coursing through you.
Your answer is a harsh thrust of his cock inside of you, stealing your breath while he slaps your ass, your flesh stinging from the force.
"Oh, fuck," you whimper debauchedly, your velvety walls squeezing him ever tighter as you feel yourself growing closer with every bounce. The tip of him hitting exactly where you need it to. Your body is on fire and you are loving every second of it. The feeling of him inside of you, of his hands squeezing and caressing you everywhere he can, of his lips demanding yours for more.
His grunts are growing louder and his thrusts more powerful, you kiss him hard in an effort to quiet him some, but you can feel what is coming.
Geralt is near slamming you down on top of him, the sound of your ass slapping against his thick thighs mix with the salacious sounds coming from you both and of your slick wetness as you're worked up and down his shaft, your cunt taking him better and better with each thrust.
Your hands move to hold his face, your noses brush as you breathe each other's air, lips touching just slightly.
"Geralt, I'm,"
"I know," he pants harshly, concentrated before taking your lips in his. You whimper pathetically as the coil in your belly winds tighter and tighter. He keeps you moving a top him, your clit being stimulated with every brush of your hips over his, and then with another deep thrust it snaps before you can speak. Your voice is an empty high then silent squeak as your legs tremble and your eyes roll back. Are you even breathing? Your walls clench down on Geralt's cock and he finally allows himself to reach his own high as your tight walls flutter around him, squeezing him perfectly. You ride the waves of ecstasy as his come spills inside of you. You feel him shudder beneath you and it only adds to your feeling of weightlessness, stars in your eyes as you feel, think, breathe nothing but him.
You part from his lips and your bodies are slick with sweat as you both pant heavily. Geralt holds you to him as he softens inside of you, his forehead pressed to yours as your hand comes behind his neck, holding him to you in kind.
Your lips mimic a kiss but neither of you lean in close enough to actually do it. You work to catch your breath and settle for a minute before you finally break the quiet.
"Do I still owe you your coin?" you breathe, smiling when Geralt laughs in your face. You reach to move a stray strand of hair from his face, holding his cheek gently once you do.
Your stare into one another's eyes for a long moment, just breathing and being close.
"Where will you be off to in the morning?" you ask, hoping your solemn tone isn't as audible as it sounded to you.
"Don't know," he shakes his head, eyes straying to your lips.
You take a breath and pull his face closer to kiss him softly.
"I envy you, you know."
"Don't."
You huff a humorless laugh, readjusting yourself on his lap. "Not because you're a witcher. You may not have the most enviable life, but at least you have one. I've never made it past the most exterior gates," you smile sadly, playing with the hairs on his chest as you avoid his eye now.
"I suppose I'll have the chance, now, though. Thanks to you."
"And where will you go?" he asks.
Your gaze floats up to his and you repeat his previous answer. "I don't know. But I won't stay here. This kingdom is..." you shake your head. "I don't belong here. Never felt like I did. But I made a promise to my mother when I was young, and another to my father before he passed. I know I've let them down," you swallow the rise of emotion threatening to overcome you, "but alas, the fall of a kingdom is ever inevitable. Especially under such rule as my own."
"I've heard word of your rule from many. You're known to be kind. Caring. Protective, even. I don't believe you've failed. I think you were exactly the kind of ruler you should have been, who you needed to be. But perhaps it's a good thing you won't be forced any longer into holding power you don't desire. You're now free to do as you wish."
"I am," you nod lightly in agreement. "If only I knew where to start,” you muse with an uneasy laugh.
His hand runs up your back comfortingly; he's pensive, deep in thought for a long moment before he speaks.
"If you ready your things, I don't think Roach would mind a travel companion of her own. She seems to have taken to Belfast… I'm not sure she'd be ready to part with him so soon, anyway."
"Is that so?" you ask him, faux curiosity playing in your voice.
"And Jaskier is easier to take when I'm not the only one he has around to bother."
"Right," you nod, fighting your soft smile.
"And of course your coin would be useful as well."
"Of course," you exaggerate your agreement. "…Geralt, are you getting at something here?"
"Just that, if you want to join us…you might."
You lean into him again, thumb rubbing along his stubble lining his cheek, and this time he kisses you first. More gently than you expect. You can’t help your smile now.
You part lightly and breathe,
"I hope you mean that, Witcher. Because I just might."
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2K notes · View notes
cheemscakecat · 3 months
Text
Fun/Interesting details in Expiration Date
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Heavy knows that Pauling is calling them, and lets Scout be the one to answer. Also, road safety because he’s not distracted driving.
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Medic is so hyped about tumor bread.
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Hoovy smelling the sandwich and deciding it’s safe to eat [or that it doesn’t matter at this point].
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Pyro standing like that. He don’t know what’s going on, but he’ll still be polite. Also, Sniper just chillin in the back with a poker face the whole time.
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Medic smiles at Soldier as they walk past. Engineer’s got that Conhager death-cheating focus at the moment.
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Spy’s eyes widen angrily when he realizes it’s Scout at the door and then he smirks like; “Oh hi! Twelve hours was enough time for you to get bored of my absence, then?”, not expecting a sincere apology [maybe one orchestrated by the other teammates, but not Scout].
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There was some vitriol behind that “***”, look at his nose. He does not want Scout to gloat, try to prank him again, or give a fake apology. And that’s valid, since the team dying is something Scout should have taken seriously, and the last wishes handled with respect. He crossed a line that Spy doesn’t take lightly.
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Dad, I threwed up. But in all seriousness, that’s the “My family is dysfunctional, and I don’t know how to be emotionally honest with people” posture.
See my bucket scene analysis for more on these two.
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He didn’t say “You’re terrible with girls” in a snide or smug tone, he said it with like actual parental concern. “Scout, no you have three days! Do you want to die rejected or die before you can enjoy being together? No. Don’t do this to yourself.”
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Look at that cup, he did not need a refill. This fake smirk and disinterest is Spy’s way of checking how serious Scout is about this last wish and taking his advice. And when he goes “This never leaves this room” Spy perks up.
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Medic was taking a sample of bread tumor puss [or injecting it with something].
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They have a whole entire wrestling ring, how did I never notice that?
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This is one of those multiple choice questions where you can choose more than one answer and have it be right. But the chicken in combination with the other options looses you points, and just taking the chicken is like the token wrong answer.
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Spy sighs when he realizes Scout chose just the chicken. Like chile, I gave you multiple options and you still went with your go-to that doesn’t work!
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This room has a gym floor, which implies Spy took a bunch of fancy stuff from one of his rooms just for this date training. Also shoutout to the other teammates for helping with this.
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Okay, so most of these decorations came from Pyro, who Scout is terrified of. Archimedes came from Medic, who Scout also doesn’t want to make angry, and the grass cutouts are potentially part of the base camouflage. But that disco ball? That belongs to Scout, he just doesn't want anyone to know he’s real into that. [The team would not judge, but his brothers would, so.]
Man when he gets his heart broken, I hope he finds the right girl for him. He deserves better than Pauling always making excuses to turn him down instead of telling him like it is.
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Foreshadowing Solly being romantical towards Zhanna. Look at this content man.
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Spy holding his knife like this. There’s no reason for it to be a threat, so he’s just genuinely in the habit of doing this while listening. Or while nervous, which also makes sense.
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countcvnt · 3 months
Text
Experiment
Chapter One: Scrambled
[Poly!TF141/Fem!Reader]
Summary: Your memory is hazy, almost nonexistent, after being plucked out of a safe house and experimented on for months. When you're finally rescued you don't remember the people closest to you. Warnings: Canon Typical Violence (not much else this chapter), me using an english to scottish translator, not beta read Word Count: 3.3k A/N: Had this silly idea and turned it into a serious/angsty fic. I hope you all will like it as much as I do! Also, Reader has a call sign! It's Ace. If you prefer, you can read it here on AO3
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Your eyes are heavy, your body burns, and you can't stop shaking. You aren't even sure of where you are. Your eyes are trained ahead of you, looking at what you assume is a two way mirror. A scientist is standing to the side of you messing with some needles and medicines. Your half lidded eyes cut towards him and you see a thick blue substance in a syringe.
“What's that?” You croak, voice hoarse.
“Hm?” The scientist doesn't even look at you, “curious now, are we?” He asks, pulling the syringe up and turning to you. He doesn't answer your question though, not in a way you would like. “We are about to figure out what this is.”
‘We’. Your stomach flips. He didn't even seem to know what it was. You accept your fate. You have from the very beginning. You don't know how long you've been part of this ‘program’, and to you, it didn't matter anymore. The only thing that matters is trying to get out alive. No one seemed to be coming for you. No one has in all of the days you've been hidden away. You didn't expect anyone to save you now. So, you had decided to save yourself. Figuring out how to do that was becoming difficult though.
You know that behind that two way mirror are a bunch of guards. You know they're heavily armed. You know, no matter what they have juiced you up with, you aren't beating a bunch of armed men. So, you sit idly. Letting them poke and prod and decide you are going to wait until the perfect opportunity shows itself. You just have to hold on until it does.
A loud alarm suddenly rings throughout the building and you cover your ears, flinching. The scientist seems more agitated than anything. He doesn't seem as bothered as you are, by any means.
“Guards!” He calls out, looking towards the large mirror. “Guards?” He questions.
He puts a finger up at you, asking for you to wait a minute. As if you have any other choice. A loud bang comes from outside the room and chills run up your spine. The guard walks towards the door and he peeks out. He quickly shuts and locks the door before returning back to you. He scurries over towards the metal stand beside your seat. He grabs the syringe and picks it up.
Something clicks in you. The alarms are still blaring and the guards seem to be gone to check it out. You watch as the syringe comes towards you, headed right for your neck. You move faster than you're used to, and grab the man’s hand and push him back. A lot harder than you had meant to. He slides back and hits the wall. The syringe does not leave his hand.
You rush towards the door. You wiggle the door knob and try to rip the door open. It doesn't budge. You turn your head back and see the scientist steadying himself. Fear kicks in.
“Help!” You scream, slamming your fists into the door. “Please, help me!”
“That was really stupid,” the man behind you says. “No one can hear you, no one is coming to save you. They haven't yet, have they?”
Tears prick your eyes. You turn back around and your back hits the door.
“Y'know, I'm going to be honest.” He stalks towards you. “I know they picked you because you're so… compliant. But really? I think that big guy with the mask would have been a better choice.”
That stings. “Who?”
“Which one?”
“Both.”
“You know I can't give out classified information. But if this works, I promise, you'll know everything. As for the other guy? I'm surprised you don't know who I'm talking about. But honestly, after all the brain scrambling you've had done to you, I understand how you don't remember him…”
You lose it. Something in you snaps. You lunge forward and grab the man. The both of you tussle briefly. Until you get him pinned. Your body slams into his and you hold him down. You raise your fist and bring it down, slamming it into his jaw. Screams, pleas fall from his lips. He's begging for you to quit. But you don't. You, at that moment, decide you are going to do that to every single person who has harmed you, who caused this.
The door behind you blows open, but you don't falter. Your fists continue to slam into the scientist’s face. Until you hear someone with a Scottish accent say your name. You freeze. You turn to find a man in the doorway, his eyes wide. You furrow your brows when he whispers your name again. You move to get up, without thinking about the man below you. You don't realize he's moving. His hand comes up and the needle is pressed into your neck. Whatever the liquid was is quickly administered into your bloodstream.
You hear your name again, louder this time, but you fall to the side, eyes too heavy to hold open. Your head slams into the now bloodied white tile and you're out.
So much for escaping. _____________________________________ You wake up to beeping. A sound you had grown accustomed to recently. You feel monitors hooked up to you, and an IV in your arm. You twitch ever so slightly, every muscle in your body contracting. And then it hits.
Anger.
Your eyes snap open. Your legs swing over the side of the bed. You rip every single monitor off of you, the IV flying across the room. The monitor begins to beep loudly and as you rush towards the door, exiting the isolated room, an alarm blares. You flinch momentarily, but do not let the sound stop you. You are looking for someone, anyone to give you a hint of what's going on. Nothing around you looks familiar. But from all the ‘brain scrambling’, that's normal. You're used to not knowing as much as you figure you used to.
A man in a bucket hat turns the corner, rushing towards what can only assume is you. You let out a low growl and begin to sprint. Your body slams into his and the both of you are sent sliding across the floor. You grab his vest and lower yourself to him, all of your weight holding him down. “Where the fuck am I?”
He's looking at you with confused eyes. He doesn't make any sudden movements. He immediately presents himself as a friend, not a threat. You squint and then see someone else coming around the corner.
“Price! Oh my-” the young man freezes. He says your name and your world is instantly rocked.
You haven't heard your name in god knows how long. The Scottish man had called out for you earlier, but before that? You really can't think of a time when someone had called you something other than some experiment number. “Who are you?” You hiss.
You feel the man under you tense up. He swallows hard and he says your name this time, slow and soft. He isn't showing any signs of wanting to throw you across the room or knock the shit out of you. You take it he isn't a threat and shift.
“You don't remember me?” The man in the ball cap asks, brows furrowed. “You don't remember us?”
Your heart jumps into your throat. You push yourself off of the man below you and you stand up. You brush yourself off and watch as he stands up. He radios someone to cut off the alarm and it's promptly stopped. You are thankful for that. You stand in the hall awkwardly and watch him and the other, younger man talk to each other with facial expressions.
“You're probably hungry,” the man in the bucket hat turns towards you, “how about we go get you some food?”
You aren't stupid, you know that also entails speaking with them about everything you just went through. Despite not wanting to talk, you nod. You are hungry and haven't had an actual meal in possibly months. The man reaches out to touch your lower back, to lead you to wherever he wants to go. You flinch away from him, everything in you tensing. You can tell it's a reflex. A habit. He's used to doing that. Your eyes scan him and you're searching your brain for everything, anything about him. But there's nothing.
“Sorry.” Is all he says. He leaves it at that. “Gaz,” he looks away from you and towards the other man. “Please go grab some food and meet us back at room 2B.”
“Yes, sir.”
The tension is palpable. You want to run. Fast. You can. You know you can. But something is keeping you tethered there. You follow a couple feet behind the man who had yet to introduce himself and keep thinking about ‘Gaz’. Your mind is reeling. You keep thinking about his name, his face, everything. You close your eyes tight and inhale sharply.
“Kyle.” It's all you say. It stops you dead in your tracks. Your eyes open and your breathing is heavy. “His name is Kyle.” Your breathing is suddenly ragged. You can't catch your breath and feel like everything is crumbling in on you. You fall to your knees and try to keep yourself from wailing. “I don't even know your name!” You whisper to keep yourself from sobbing. Your voice cracks.
“Price. John Price.” He drops in front of you. He reaches for your bicep. You don't flinch away this time. “Hey,” his voice is low, “look at me.” Your eyes cut up to him. “We're gonna help you through this. I promise.” You nod. You want to trust him. You need to. You feel like you can. You inhale slowly and Price helps you up. “We're going to go to room 2B, you're going to eat some breakfast, and we're going to ask you some questions.”
You nod and start following Price again. You make it to the room in silence and Price opens the door for you. You walk in and find four beige walls, a table, and four chairs. Nothing else. Until you look in the corner of the room and find a little camera. You lock onto it and squint.
“Why?” You point at it.
“Oh,” Price walks in and closes the door behind him, “it’s protocol. Security and all.”
“Fair enough.” You sit down at the table and look at the Price. “You gonna sit?”
Price holds onto his vest and leans against the table. “Not yet.”
You shrug. “Suit yourself.” Your stomach growls. You touch it through the thin white shirt you're wearing. “You think Gaz will be here soon?”
With that, a knock comes from the other side of the door. Two knocks, a pause, and another knock. Price opens the door and Gaz walks in. He has a tray filled with food and you are growing antsy. He sits across from you and slides the tray towards you. You try to not immediately dig in, but you can't help it. You grab a glazed donut first and begin to devour it.
“Oh,” you pause your munching, “thank you, Kyle.”
Gaz freezes. His eyes widen and he turns towards Price. It's your turn to freeze. You look up at him mid bite and blink. Gaz motions towards you and asks, “Did you tell her my name.”
“No.” Price shakes his head.
“You remembered?” Gaz seems ecstatic. “What else do you-”
“Nothing.” You snap. “I don't remember a damn thing.” You huff as you move onto the muffin on the tray. You unwrap it and begin to devour the sweet. “All I know,” You speak through bites, “is that I was locked up for God knows how long and they were experimenting on me-”
“Four months.” Gaz speaks quietly.
“Huh?” You question him. “How do you know?”
“We looked for you when you disappeared. It was four months ago when they got you. You really don’t remember anything?”
“Like I said,” You huff, “I just know they were juicing me up.” Before they can question you further, a light bulb goes off in your head. “Wait.” You squint at them, “The Scottish one. Where is he?”
They tense up. Gaz talks first, “You remember Soap?”
“Huh?” You cock your head. “Is that his name? He’s the one that found me. I assume he’s here. Or did he not…” You trail off.
“No, he’s here…” Price begins, “…We don’t want to overwhelm you.”
“Oh.” You shrug. “I guess that makes sense. How am I supposed to, uh, assimilate without being overwhelmed. I mean, why don’t we just rip that band aid off?”
“Trust me,” Price locks eyes with you, “we do not need to rip that band aid off right now.”
“Okay, okay,” You put your hands up. “Do you wanna ask your questions now?” _____________________________________ “This cannae be healthy,” Soap looks at Simon.
Simon shrugs, “Don’t care.” He’s watching the cameras closely.
“Thay aren't even in th' room yit! Ye'r peepin' an empty room!” Soap’s eyes move from the screen and back to Simon.
Simon’s eyes cut from the screen and to Soap, “Shut it. Price wants us to stay away from her for now. He didn’t say we couldn’t do this.”
As he says that, the door of the room opens. Price is visible first. And then, another figure walks in. You. Simon and Soap both tense. You look directly at the camera and point, asking why it’s there. You’re so clear. Soap’s heart jumps. Simon shifts.
“She remembers Gaz’s name.” Simon speaks through gritted teeth.
“A'm sure that's a targeted attack against ye, Ghost.” Soap is trying to find humor in this situation. He’s grasping for straws.
Simon is not enjoying it. “Shut the fuck up, Johnny.” Simon growls.
Soap focuses back on the screen and notices you aren’t even sure how long you’ve been gone. As Gaz gently tells you four months, Simon grumbles the amount of time at the same time.
“If Price doesn’t wanna overwhelm her, why the fuck is Gaz in there.” Simon is seething. “Why can’t we all be in there.”
Simon shuts his mouth as you say they had been juicing you up. He tenses. Soap does the same. They both need to know what it means. Simon feels like he’s going to combust. His eyes narrow once you mention Soap. Soap looks like he’s about to jump with joy, until he realizes you don’t actually remember him. Not past him saving you.
“Fuck this,” Simon pushes past Soap. “I'm going in there.”
“Hey! Price said-” Soap starts. He doesn't finish. “Fine-” he rushes out behind Simon. He guesses they're just going to bust into the room and Simon is going to make you remember. He isn't quite sure what Simon has planned really. But he decides he can't sit in the security room and just watch. He needs to see you.
So does Simon. _____________________________________ You reach for a fork for your eggs and lean back in your seat, plate in hand. You relax (as much as possible) and you look at Gaz and Price. You are studying them. Really digging into their features. You want to remember so badly. You have no reason to trust that they used to know you, a part of you is ready to attack in case they are lying. But most of you trusts them. How else would you remember Kyle’s name?
“Listen,” Price inhales sharply, “we want to help you, without overwhelming you. We need to know what you know.”
“Listen,” You mimic his tone, “I don’t know what you aren’t getting. I remember nothing, nada, zilch.”
“Okay,” Gaz interjects, “What’s your last memory?”
You're sent into deep thought. You place your hand on your chin and look off. “Well-” You begin, “I remember-”
The door of the room busts open. You tense, ready to pounce. Your palms hit the table and you stand up straight. The fork clangs against the ground. Two men walk into the room. The one who saved you and-
Words play in your head over and over again. ‘I think the big guy with the mask would have been a better choice.’ For a moment, your world is completely rocked. ‘I’m surprised you don’t know who I'm talking about.’ Your eyes lock with the large beast of a man. His eyes soften. Briefly. You swallow hard.
The entire room is silent. Until you open your mouth. “He wanted you…”
“What?” Soap is the first to question you.
“The scientist, the one doing the experiments on me-” You are tense again “-he didn’t want me.” Your head hurts. You place your hand on your forehead and groan. You are thinking too hard. Remembering too much.
“Hey,” Price motions for you to sit down, “it’s alright.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Ghost,” Price looks over his shoulder, “not right now.”
Ghost stiffens. He doesn’t say anything else. You sit down and inhale slowly. Your eyes move from the floor, past Price, and they hit Ghost. You feel something stir inside you. Like your emotions know more than your brain does. You want to scream. Every single man in that room seems to think so highly of you, and you don’t even remember them.
“I think I need to sleep.” Your voice is a whisper.
You don’t know the last time you got a good rest. You figure sleeping will help you. Price begins to grab for you, before freezing. You lean into him, letting him help you up. Price moves past the men and you tag along beside him.
“I’m going to show you where your room is. If you need anything, please let one of us know. But for now, we’ll leave you alone.” You are led down the hall and towards the barracks. It’s silent between the two of you, until you reach your room. “You have this room to yourself. I had some things rearranged, if it needs to be changed, and you aren’t comfortable alone, let me know.”
You nod at him. “Thank you. For everything. I’ll see you in the morning?”
“0600 sharp.” Price begins to leave.
“Wait,” You stop him. “You don’t happen to have my phone, do you?”
Price turns back to you. “No, that was not recovered. But, we can get you a new one. I’ll work on that while you rest.”
You nod. You head into your room and close the door behind you. You look around. There are two beds. You groan at the fact you can’t remember who used to be your bunk mate. You’re scraping through your brain, really searching for just an inkling of a memory. But… Nothing. Nothing at all comes to your mind.
Nothing about the four men convinced that you know them, anyway.
You lay down in bed and cover up. It’s not the most comfortable bed you’ve ever been in, but it is the most comfortable bed you’ve laid on in the last four months. Your head hits the pillows and you close your eyes. It takes longer than you’d like to go to sleep, but not as long as you expect it to take. You only hope you don’t dream of anything at all. You can’t be that lucky. _________________________________ “Price!” Simon shouts at the captain. His face contorted with anger and pain, and he is more glad than ever that they can’t see him through his balaclava. “What the fuck was that? We need to know-”
“No,” Price stops him immediately. “We do not need to stress her out further. We will figure this out eventually, on her time.” Price reassures his team. “You did not see the look in her eyes, the way she tackled me to the floor-”
“She what…?” Soap tenses.
Simon bristles instantly. He’s seething again. “What do you mean?”
“Ghost,” Gaz starts, “I know you want to know what happened. We all do.” He’s trying to get through to him. “But something is not right. The way she easily took Captain Price down- That wasn’t the Ace we know.”
“Of course!” Simon growls, “She was gone for four months, being poked and prodded-”
“Ghost,” Price interrupts, inhaling sharply, “she pinned me down and I could not get up. They did more than poke and prod at her. They-”
It clicks. “They were making soldiers… Enhanced soldiers.” Simon whispers. His face contorts again, this time with confusion, “Why did they pick her?” He remembers what you said. ‘He wanted you.’ Simon momentarily feels a pit in his stomach. “Ace couldn’t have been the only one… There’s no way they did this experiment on one person.”
“She was the only one at the underground compound.” Soap shifts. “Maybe she was the only success?”
Simon is stuck on why they picked you. It’s not like you weren’t capable. But you were never on the field fighting for your life. You were always on the sidelines, helping them get into the places, helping them get information. How had they spotted you and decided you were the best candidate? He knows that question is going to keep him up at night.
“Come on,” Price brings Simon back to reality. “We got a long day ahead of us tomorrow.”
1K notes · View notes
sleyu · 10 months
Text
DATING JAMES POTTER INCLUDES . . .
PAIRING: JAMES POTTER X READER
GENRE: FLUFF & SMUT
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If anyone is boyfriend coded, it's James.
James is so desperate for your attention. It’s fully up to you how you would react to the stunts he’d pull and all the nonsense he’d say for you to spare just a mere glance at him, but as soon as you do, he’s not shutting up for days. So much so, you’d find Remus on his hands and knees, begging to give James a chance so that he could finally study in peace.
When James falls in love, the person he is infatuated with and the things in relation to them is the only thing that remains in his mind.
‘Ugh,’ he thinks, ‘Madam Puddifoot’s Tea Shop is an eye sore.’ But wait, ‘Y/n loves pink. I ought to bring her here next time.’ He thinks.
James, contrary to what he makes himself out to be in front of his friends before meeting you, abandons any sense of his pride and ego when it comes to his girl.
Before falling in love with you, James would scoff and snicker at couples around Hogwarts, at people holding hands, cheeks flushed and eyes starry-eyed, as they’d walk together in Hogsmeade.
Meeting you, falling in love with you—finally making you his—made him love every corny, cheesy aspect of being with someone, completely endeared and left sheepish by their every breath and movement.
During ’ O.W.L.S. or any test for that matter, one could steal a glance at James, only to see him absentmindedly writing down your initials with a heart right beside them on his parchment, looking almost bored at his otherwise empty paper.
Anytime he would find himself stuck on a question, he would sigh happily, putting his quill down and all his focus on you, trying to find you sitting in the exam hall, smiling in amusement at the look of determination on your face.
James being in love means him attempting to look for your face during every quidditch match, upon every win, and during every loss, trying his best to search for your reaction. All he wants is for you to see him in his glory, and no amounts of pats on his back or the cheers he receives from crowds compare to the feeling of your thumb caressing his cheek, or your hands softly patting him on the head, telling him how proud you are of him and how you couldn’t take his eyes off him.
James finds it tough to admit and often struggles to communicate it, but he needs your praise. He needs you to tell him that he did good, that he looks handsome, that he’s brilliant for his latest prank, and that no one else compares to him. Of course, it’s an ego boost for him, but behind his egotistic front is a vulnerable, questioning man who doubts himself often, wanting nothing more than to prove himself to you.
‘Did I do good, love?’ he’d ask, desperation seeping from his honey-like voice, as though he’s unable to wait for your answer, fearing the possibility of your displeasure. ‘Please tell me I did.’
Of course, this manifests in your sex life. James needs praise always and rarely ever incorporates degradation into his lovemaking. He not only tells you how pretty you look for him, how good you feel wrapped around his leaking cock, but also begs you to be vocal, to communicate your pleasure and to tell him that you only belong to him and that no one else could make you feel as good as him.
‘Need you to tell me, baby—fuck! Wanna make you feel good—wanna make my good girl feel good—god.’
‘Tell me—tell me you love me. Say it again—need to hear it again,’
James begs that you leave a kiss mark on his cheek for ‘Good luck,’ right before a quidditch game.
The mandatory uniform for Gryffindor Quidditch matches is James’ jersey. Nothing fuels his pride and his absolute enamour for you more than seeing his last name plastered across your chest and back, proudly and visibly displaying your support for him and only him.
After a big win, you can expect to be fucked in the jersey. James swears he’s never cum faster than he has when he took you from behind and watched as your back arched; the name, ‘Potter,’ printed upon your trembling body as though it was a mark of ownership and loyalty.
Dating James means that he’s treating you as though you’re made of glass. Gentle touches and grips to your waist as the two of you walk in the school corridors, and adoring coos when he sees you slump against him, tired from a long day.
‘My poor angel. Always working so hard, yeah? C’mon, I’ll take care of you.’
He’d rather die than hear you call him by his name. To James, calling him by his name means that you’re treating him as though he were any other person when he isn’t. He needs to hear the affection laced in your words. The soft, gentle mumble of ‘baby, darling, Jamie, honey,’ is all he seeks to hear from you and he practically crumbles against the gentle caress of your hand on his cheek when you refer to him by a pet name.
‘James,’ you sigh, exasperated. Your boyfriend furrows his eyebrows, ‘That’s baby to you!’
During the summer, he’d insist you attach a photo of you with every letter you send him, whether it’s you on vacation or simply in your room, he has to get his fill of you.
He’d spend so much money on little trinkets for you, little items he would pick up from the sneaky Marauders Hogsmeade trips.
Sirius would huff as James pulled him into a stationary shop, ‘James, can we please stop making pit stops? We have 30 minutes left.’ James shook his head, grinning to himself as he picked up several pretty pens he reckons you’d love, ‘Need to supply the missus with gifts, Pads.’
James would be so happy once you begin warming up to the Marauders. His favourite people loving his favourite person? It’s his dream come true and as soon as he sees you bickering with Sirius, having long and insightful discussions with Remus, and casually hanging around Peter, he knows he’s going to be with you for a very, very long time. He’ll make sure of it, he decides then.
James would most certainly carry your bag as he drops you off to class. The first time he attempted in doing it, the two of you were tugging your bag for five minutes, arguing with each other about who would carry the pound of weight on your shoulders. He won, much to your dismay, but a surge of warmth bursts through him the first time you hand your bag over to him mindlessly, without him asking or fighting you for it, as though you had expected him to do it. He treasures these moments in your relationship where he begins to realize that habits between the two of you are beginning to grow and that you both are becoming used to being such an integral part of each other's lives.
He constantly tells you that you’re his everything and that all he does is for you and only you.
Study dates with him are entirely pointless as they never lead to actual studying as James cannot survive five minutes without your undivided attention on him. What do you mean you have to read a textbook for an hour? No periodic breaks to kiss your boyfriend or to coo at him? The only way actual studying will get done is if you promise him a kiss for every correct answer he gets—but we all know where that’s leading to.
He was the first one to say, ‘I love you,’ in the relationship. He would probably say it very quickly as he had known he loved you before the two of you dated, but he’s entirely fine with you wanting to take your time in dissecting your feelings for him.
Until you say it back, with every night and morning kiss, every departure before class, he’d whisper a giddy, ‘I love you, darling,’ to which you’d smile bashfully. Once you do say it back, he’s smiling like an idiot for two weeks straight. He would be almost annoying about it, like a child on Christmas Day. He’d tell you that he loves you repeatedly only to hear you say his four favourite words: ‘I love you too.’
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altruisticalastor · 3 months
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↳˗ˏˋAlastor x Readerˊˎ˗ ↴
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☒ Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six
☒ Summary: "Alastor said we've met before. In the living world. But I seriously don't ever remember meeting him." Angel looked puzzled. "Soo... what do you remember from your life?" 
☒ Warnings: fem!reader she/her pronouns used, hurt with no comfort sorry, tons of confusion for alastor and the reader, one kiss, very suggestive language (its from angel- are we surprised?), slight self harming (alastor), blood, tears, arguing, desprate!alastor, toxic themes, split pov (second devider is when alastor's pov starts!)
☒ Word Count: 2,653
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"You- WHAT?" 
Angel shot up from his spot on your bed. His eyes widened, eyebrows knitting in perplexity.
"I know- I know! It's bad... but I wasn't thinking clearly!" You slumped under Angel's judgemental gaze, pulling your knees up to your chest from where you sat on your bed. 
"Toots, there is no way his pussy eating skills are good enough to fuck you that dumb!" You averted your gaze. Heat rose to your cheeks from Angel's crass words.
"Oh, but they are..." You mumbled before you felt two of Angel's hands grip your shoulders, shaking you out of frustration.
"Did you really have to pick an absolute psychopath to be the one to pop your cherry? Toots, you're gorgeous. You could have anyone you want!" You were flustered beyond comprehension as Angel stopped shaking you. Opting to glare at your heated face instead. 
"We didn't go all the way! Plus he's the one who's been pursuing me all this time- I didn't get it at first, and I still don't. But-" Your expression morphed into one of contemplation. Angel's jaw went slack as he impatiently awaited your next words. "But what?! Spit it out!"
"He said we've met before. In the living world. But I seriously don't ever remember meeting him." Angel nudged you to the side before slotting himself atop your bed once more. "Soo... what do you remember from your life?" 
You froze. 
Angel's inquiry filled your mind with more questions than answers. 
"I... not much," You paused, turning to face Angel before you continued. "The earliest memory I have is waking up in a hospital bed after surviving a blow to the head from some hunting accident." 
You closed your eyes, wracking your brain for every last detail you could remember; no matter how small. "I ended up falling into a coma only days after that mishap. The next thing I know, I'm in fucking hell." You chucked bitterly. Angel let out a laugh of his own. 
"No offense, babe, but that has to be one of the saddest fuckin' things I've ever heard," Angel outstretched his legs, overlapping them atop yours. "That accident, what else can you remember about it? Maybe that's the ticket!" 
Your eyes shot open from Angel's question. "Wait... before I fell into a coma, there was this nurse- she told me that I was led into the woods by a dangerous fellow," You paused, eyes scanning Angel's wildly as he perched himself forward. Literally hanging on the edge of his seat from your musings. 
"She told me the gunshot wound saved my life, fucking ironic now because It ended up killing me anyway. She also said that... the man who took me into the woods was a serial killer who had been on the run for decades. He ended up getting shot in the head that night, also. Except he died instantly..."
Angel was hanging on to every word you uttered. He could see the pieces falling into place from your look of awe. "What was the man's name, toots? What was it?!" Angel shouted a little louder than he intended. You jolted back from his outburst, taking in a shaky breath. You replayed that memory with the nurse over and over again. 
She had to have said it at some point. 
Come on! Think, think- think!
“Turns out the man you were out in those woods with was a wanted serial killer. That 𝘈⃒̅𝘭⃒̅𝘢⃒̅𝘴⃒̅𝘵⃒̅𝘰⃒̅𝘳⃒̅ fellow was an active murderer for decades! The papers say he was good at steering clear of the cops for all these years. The hunter wasn’t even aiming for you both. His target was a nearby deer.”
"His target was a nearby deer."
A deer... 
Again. 
Retrace.
"That ɹ̸o̸ʇ̸s̸ɐ̸ʅ̸Ɐ̸ fellow was an active murderer for decades! The hunter wasn’t even aiming for you both. His target was a nearby deer."
Fuck- it was just out of reach. 
One more time, one more fucking time. 
Think carefully. 
"The hunter wasn’t even aiming for That A͊l͖a̪sto̶̸̅r̷̦͍ fellow. His target was a nearby deer."
You gasped sharply, startling Angel. You felt your heart sink into your stomach as the last piece of the puzzle fell into place.
"Alastor... his name was Alastor." 
Your voice was distant as you spaced out. Angel's face blurred out of focus through your line of sight. 
"You've got to be fuckin' kidding me. That freak was going to kill you when you were still alive-? And now... you belong to him? Shit- toots! This is rough... and not the good kind of rough." 
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Alastor sat at the piano. Staring at the keys with that ever-present smile— but not daring to strike a tune. 
You’ve been avoiding him again.
What was it going to take for you to realize that he was your fiancé on earth? 
Sure, his features were more creature than man, but at the end of the day; Alastor was still the same man you fell in love with. 
Maybe he should have held off from his… desires. 
Could you blame him, though? He’s been waiting nearly a century to be reunited with his beloved. 
You’re the person he thought about for all these lonely years in hell. The only solace for Alastor was the notion that you survived, lived a long happy life, and inevitably made it to the pearly gates. 
So imagine his despair when you showed up at the Hazbin Hotel, looking to be redeemed. 
Alastor recognized you immediately. He could spot that grin of yours in a crowd of billions. 
Smile at the world, and she smiles back at you. 
But— you didn’t even spare him the time of day. Alastor gave you the benefit of the doubt. Maybe you just needed some time to reignite your memory. 
And so, he gave you time. You’ll come around, Alastor thought. 
But he couldn’t have been more wrong, as much as he hated to admit it. 
He grew impatient— losing all of his resolve when you admitted to his voice reminding you of home. 
Alastor presumed maybe a passionate encounter would jumpstart your adoration for him. You had never breached that level of intimacy when you both were alive. You were adamant about waiting until marriage, but those dreams never came true. 
Yet even still, it was not enough. 
Was he really that forgettable to you? 
Suddenly, a knock on his door pulled him from his stupor. Alastor quickly cleared his throat, straightening his bowtie and taking steps toward his door. 
The second he swung the door open, he was met by the person who invaded his every thought; you. 
“What a pleasant surprise! Come in, my dearest.” Alastor piped up, stepping aside to let you into his safe haven. 
Your face was devoid of any vibrancy, and your eyes frantically avoided his. Alastor watched you closely as you hesitantly stepped past the threshold of his space. 
“To what do I owe the pleasure?” Alastor hummed as he shut the door before turning on his heel to face you. 
You rubbed at the sleeve of your dress nervously. Alastor’s mind instantly flashed the memory of your first meeting. 
The sight of you soothing yourself with a gentle caress to your bicep. Clammy hands seeping perspiration through that gorgeous vermilion dress of yours.  
“I-I remember you…” Your voice was barely above a whisper. Legs trembling from where you stood before him.
Your words caused Alastor’s heart to race wildly. 
At long last— you remember him! 
“I knew you would, my smart girl! Ah- you have no clue how elated I am to finally hear those words leave your lips!” He invaded your personal space without missing a beat. 
Alastor’s eyebrows knitted in confusion as you dodged his hand— that had full intention of clasping around your cheek. 
“Don’t… don’t touch me.” Your voice was shrill as you took a step back from him. 
Alastor took one step forward. 
“My darling, why are you being so cold? You know how much I loathe teasing.” Alastor forced out a chuckle as you took two steps back. 
Alastor took three steps forward this time. 
“You’re sick! You’re the one who’s been teasing me all this time— how dare you?!” You spat, raising your hands to push him away, but to no avail. 
Alastor grasped your wrists with his large palms. He gazed down at you with a frenzied look, grip tightening scarcely around your wrists. “Darling… this isn’t funny anymore.” His voice was low, and the corners of his lips twitched in irritation. 
“It never was funny to begin with! I mean, how could you try to kill me on earth and then think it’s okay to fool around with me in hell?!” You glared up at him, tears of frustration now rolling down your cheeks. 
Alastor’s grip loosened from your words. He was utterly astonished. "You think I... tried to kill you?" His voice was quiet, crimson orbs frantically searching yours. 
You grimaced at him, rolling your eyes before you shouted, "You led me out into the woods, and the next thing I know, I'm in the hospital with a gunshot wound to the head and no memories before waking up in a stiff hospital bed! Everything I know about you and the accident was spoon-fed to me by some crappy nurse!"
Alastor's smile dropped. He wasn't even aware of the frown that crossed his features. The only giveaway was the absence of that standard achy feeling in his cheeks from holding an everlasting grin. "Darling, I-I'm not following... you mean to tell me you... don't remember your life before that mishap?" 
You looked puzzled by Alastor's uncharacteristic display of distress. His hands slipped from your wrists as he wobbled backward. "Yeah, and It's your fault! If you didn't haul me out into those woods to kill me, I would still remember who I was! And my whole life before all this bullshit!" 
You took a step forward. 
"I would remember my family, my career, if I even fucking had one! I would remember my joyful memories, my painful ones, and— and- maybe I would remember somebody who actually loved me!" You furiously glared up at him. Pointing your index finger into his chest in an accusatory fashion. 
Alastor snapped at your last words. 
Somebody who actually loved you?
It was him.
It was always him. 
Was his love for you really that immemorable?
"You truly aren't joking... you... don't remember me." Alastor felt his heart shatter into a million pieces. You were the last thing keeping it intact. All that he felt in his chest now was your blunt fingernail piercing his skin from where you jabbed him. 
"I just told you I do! What the fuck are you talking about?!" Alastor could tell your patience was wearing thin. You were probably just as confused as he was but for all the wrong reasons. 
Alastor's arms fell limp against his sides. Yet his fists were balled up so tightly that he could hear the pitter-patter of his blood spilling onto the carpet from how deeply his nails sunk into the flesh of his palm. 
You weren't ever going to believe the truth, but Alastor still needed to try.
"My dearest... that is not how we met. And my intentions were not and never will be to end your life." Alastor paused, taking in a shaky breath before continuing. 
"You're frustrated about not remembering somebody that loved you, yes? As am I..." You tilted your head in confusion. Finally pulling your finger away from his wounded chest. "What the fuck are you trying to say, Alastor?" Your voice was laced with annoyance, and your scowl was unwavering. 
"Darling, that somebody that loved you was me-and still is. It will always be me," Alastor paused, hands now finding purchase on your shoulders. "That accident should have never happened! We were scheduled to be wed at the courthouse later that evening... but... we never... made it..."
Why were his cheeks burning unbearably so? 
And why was your countenance blurring before his very eyes? 
Alastor's grip on your shoulders was unwavering, but his hands now trembled. Your expression was one of perplexity as you shook your head incredulously. "I loved you in life and now in death. I've loved you all this time, my sweet girl. Nothing will ever change that! Please, I beg of you- you must believe me!"
The definitive radio static crackle to his voice was nowhere to be found. Instead, his voice was laced with desperation. You looked disoriented through his blurry gaze as you took a weary step back. 
Alastor felt wetness trickle down his burning cheeks. 
Oh, he was... crying?
The last time he wept was when he first arrived in this grim place otherwise known as Hell. The realization that he left you on earth all alone tore him up. Alastor was inconsolable for years.
You truly knew how to put him together just to rip him apart all over again, huh? 
There is no undoing grander than love itself. 
"I-I don't believe you..." Your voice was just above a whisper as you slipped out of his grasp and approached the doorway. You turned your back on him, literally and metaphorically. 
Alastor didn't miss a beat. He rushed to you, large palm slamming flat against the wooden door. "We worked at the same radio station! Your bitch of a friend Elaine and her parents took you in after your pill-addict parents abandoned you on your eleventh birthday!"
You let out a sharp gasp as he hovered over you. Alastor couldn't read your expression, with your face practically pressing into the wooden door. All he could see was the top of your head as he pushed his chest into your rigid back. His arm was outstretched, keeping the door shut and caging you in entirely. 
"It was love at first sight for me! We went dancing for our first date. Did you truly fail to notice how effortlessly we moved along the dancefloor at Charlie's last gathering? It's because deep down, your body remembers every dance we ever shared,"
Alastor flipped you over faster than you could process. Your back was now flush against the sturdy door, his arm still caging you in. He peered down at you as his thumb and index finger from his non-dominant hand grasped your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze.
"Every lingering touch..." 
He felt you tremble beneath his intense stare from how his chest now squashed against yours. Alastor's face dipped lower, invading your personal space. He brushed the tip of his nose against yours, breath fanning over your tear-stained cheeks. 
"And every kiss..."
Alastor observed you desperately as he pressed his lips against yours. He poured all his love into the shared embrace, hoping it would jumpstart your memory. But instead, you just shoved him away harshly, breaking away from his embrace. Alastor felt his world crumble around him as you wiped his kiss away with the back of your hand.
"You're fucking crazier than I thought!" With Alastor still reeling from the rejection, you took your leave. The sound of the door slamming thundered through his head. 
Alastor sunk to his knees. His hands came up to tug at his messy tufts of hair. Allowing the tears to flow freely now that he was completely alone.
Alastor did not think you were capable of hurting him until now. 
Alastor yanked at his locks furiously as his cheeks burned brightly in frustration. His knees quivered as his forehead kissed the carpet that was stained with his blood from earlier—when he unintentionally ripped up his palms. Alastor curled in on himself as he wept. 
This pain was worse than any other.
But more than anything, his love for you only burned brighter.
As did his determination to have you remember him and the pleasant life you both shared before all was lost. 
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aidaronan · 1 year
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The years go by. The retail jobs that Steve thinks are temporary keep piling up, but he has no idea what else to do with his life so he just keeps on keeping on.
Until a large tree falls on the lawn of the little house he managed to buy and he gets the quote on removal and the number literally hurts his soul.
He buys a small chainsaw instead. Over the course of a few weeks, he gets most of the branches cut up. He collects some large rocks from down by the quarry and digs out a fire pit in his backyard. On his days off, his friends come over and they sit out back and have a few beers. The pile of wood dwindles. The giant trunk is another story though. His chainsaw isn't big enough for it. Burning it would take forever, and Steve's terrified he'd disappoint Smoky the Bear. He's at a loss.
Until he sees another giant trunk in someone's yard carved into a bear.
He knows what to do then. Not a bear, but something else. Through trial and error, the trunk becomes the rough shape of a woman, the remnants of the branches like a crown on her head. It's not as amazing as the bear he saw, but it's his. He finds he loves the smell of sawdust and the feeling of creating something.
Just like that, Steve realizes what he wants to do. It takes several months and a lot of yard sales, but he scrounges up the tools he needs to start woodworking. He learns to measure twice and cut once. He makes tables and chairs and carves them with art and designs that get better and better the more he learns. Shockingly, people actually buy his pieces.
Even more shocking comes the realization that he's making enough money to do it full time. He puts in his two weeks notice at Melvald's and hands in his assistant manager badge.
He's not sure he's happy, but he is content. It feels good to work hard and actually have things to show for it. It also feels good to work muscles he hasn't used since high school. He carries on for a few years like that, creating and learning and creating some more. Then Eddie Munson blows back into town. Invited back so Hawkins can have their most famous alumnus sing the national anthem at homecoming. Steve's honestly surprised he shows at all. "Can't believe you didn't tell them kiss your hairy ass," Steve says. Because of course Eddie ends up around his fire pit, sipping on Steve's cheap beer like he doesn't have three Grammy awards on his mantel. The years fall away with each drink, reminding Steve of just how much it had hurt when Eddie left. He'd wanted Eddie so bad back then, more than he'd ever wanted anyone. He can feel the echoes of that deep ache across time.
"Pfft. Don't you know all famous people wax our asses now? All the rage in LA." Eddie cuts a look at him and smirks when Steve rolls his eyes, grateful for the lighthearted moment to snap him out of his maudlin nostalgia. "Really though I thought about it, but then I thought it would be way funnier to donate a metric fuckton of money to Hawkins High with the stipulation that it go to the theater and band programs. Kind of bummed they couldn't honor my other request though."
"Which was?"
"My old Hellfire throne. I miss her, but apparently she's not around anymore. Something about water damage."
"Oh yeah. Water main busted a few years back and flooded the theater. I remember that." "Yeah. Had to settle for the promise they'd make a game lounge and stock it with all the supplies a budding young nerd needs."
"That's really nice, Eds."
Eddie shrugs. "I've been known to be nice on occasion. You'll come to homecoming, right? Moral support?"
Steve hasn't been to homecoming in years because he sees the other people who stayed in town all the time, and he has no interest in seeing the people who didn't. He can only answer the same questions so many times. Oh, I'm doing woodwork now. Yep, I still live right here. Nope, still not married, no kids.
He goes though, and he answers the uncomfortable questions. Because Eddie asked him to. Because no matter how long it's been, Steve can't deny that some part of him still...
He says goodbye after, and Eddie leaves again, and Steve tries not to think about that too much in the following days.
He's halfway into the project before he realizes what he's building. He'd seen Eddie's throne quite a few times back when. What he doesn't have memories of, he makes up. He adds his own touches too, making it a throne fit for a rock star, a nerd, a friend.
He carves ornate patterns, he creates scenes of dragons being beaten back by a man with a guitar, crowds of people that could be knights or concertgoers.
It's his favorite piece he's ever done, and his hands are shaking when he dials Eddie's number. He gets an answering machine and stumbles through a message.
"I made you something. I guess it's kind of silly, but it's here in Hawkins if you want it. Or I'm sure you can afford the shipping if you don't want to come. Just, I made you a chair. It's more of a... Well, you'll see. Unless you don't want to... It's Steve by the way." He hangs up before he can embarrass himself even more.
Eddie doesn't call him back. One day passes and then another. Steve tries not to let it get to him. He works on orders and new projects. He enjoys his little backyard oasis. He rents a few movies and thinks they're okay.
He's debarking some wood in his driveway when the rental car pulls up, Eddie stepping out in ripped jeans and an old Metallica tee. "Hi again, Stevie."
"Oh." Steve clears his throat. "The thing's in the garage. I'll..."
Eddie doesn't say anything for a long time, circling the throne, running his tattooed fingers over each little detail.
"You made this whole thing?"
"I did."
"For me?" Eddie looks at him then, one hand still touching the wood like he doesn't want to let go. Even under the harsh lights of the garage, his eyes are such a warm shade of brown that Steve forgets to breathe.
He nods. "For you."
"Why?"
There are a hundred answers Steve could give, but he spent so long not knowing who he was or who he wanted to be. Too long. "Because you'll always be the one that got away. Because some part of me will always want to make you smile no matter how long it's been."
Eddie falls into the throne like he just got the wind knocked out of him.
"You don't have to respond to that," Steve says. "You can just say thank you and take the chair."
"I can." Eddie blows out a breath. "But that would be incredibly stupid considering half my early ballads are about you."
"What?" Unfair. Steve doesn't have a chair to fall into.
"Oh sure, I changed the hes to shes for a while there because..." Eddie waves his hand. "But they're about you, Steve. God, I should've asked you out. I just thought..."
Hearing those words is a lot like seeing that carved bear all over again, something clicking into place that wasn't quite right before.
"Go out with me now then," Steve says. "Or stay in. I've got a frozen lasagna and I rented Contact."
"Steve Harrington? Asking Eddie 'the Freak' Munson on a date? Did hell freeze over?"
"Pfft." Steve takes a step closer toward what he wants most. "Hell froze over in 1986, Eddie. You were there."
Five months and a lot of long distance phone bills later, Steve opens Harrington Woodworking in Los Angeles. That same day, Eddie takes photos for Rolling Stone posing in an ornate throne in his living room. He tells the reporter exactly who made it and what he means. At concerts, he starts singing those ballads the way he always wanted to. More often than not, Steve stands in the wings singing along.
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