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#like yes i think they hurt each other and continue to hurt each other but isn't that just how families work?
sonarspace · 1 day
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sweet syrup, satoru gojo
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synopsis: emotions are all over the place when fwb!gojo stands you up… for another girl? content: fluff (kinda). smut (food play, fem!receiving, orgasm, unprotected sex) wc: 3.1k a/n: another fic within 24hrs to make up for my absence :). (not proofread!). this is a result of listening to sesame syrup by cigarettes after sex on repeat.
𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚。𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚。𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚。𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚。𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆.
your phone chimes with a text from satoru “are you free this week? i’m coming to your city”. to which you reply almost instantly. “yeah, i can make some time.”
he texts back: “no need to cancel any plans. i can work around it. just wanna spend some time with you while i’m here.” making your heart flip.
“i have an event to attend tonight, but can i come over sometime between 2 and 3?” he sends another text.
it’s not really like you had much going on in the week so you decided to say yes. to which he sends a winky face and a see you soon.
it’s almost 2am when you’re done getting ready. it has been a while since you’ve seen each other and while satoru has seen you in all your rawness. you figured it wouldn’t hurt to dress up a bit.
you decide to wear an ocean blue lingerie set (his favorite color) and a sheer white dress over it, leaving nothing to imagination. you hope you can catch him off guard with this look.
you look at the clock and it’s already 2:30am. you decide to send him a text to confirm he’s going to come up or not. it’s not like satoru to stand you up especially on a plan he’s made.
“are we still good for tonight?” you text. but no reply comes through. he did say 3am didn’t he, you think to yourself. maybe he’ll be there by then. you sigh and decide to put on a movie.
you give him the benefit of the doubt and wait a bit longer past 3. but you regret that decision as you are watching instagram stories and see a pic of none other than, satoru gojo in all his glory at the party he said he’d be. an angry pout takes over your lips.
what gets you isn’t the fact that he may still be at the party but who he is with. some model’s lips are pressed to his cheeks – hand hovering over her back and his stupid people winning grin plastered on his face.
posted 20 minutes ago. you inhale deeply, trying to keep the tears at bay. you didn’t even know why you were hurt. after all you were just fuck buddies and nothing more. you suppose it was the anger making you cry.
feeling stupid at even trying to dress him for him, streaks of black mascara run down your face. you look at yourself in the mirror and take a deep breath, willing yourself to not cry over some rich fucker.
you wipe your make up and change into a pair of sweatpants and lay back down on the couch. continuing your show trying to distract yourself from the indirect rejection you felt.
but your mind kept going back to him. why would he wanna be with you when he can get all those pretty girls with their perfect bodies. girls who could probably make him feel far better than you do.
you were stupid to think there was something going in between the two of you. as soon as that thought crosses your mind a text chimes. “baby, i’m so sorry. almost there. 5 minutes.”
you scoff at the nickname ‘baby’ huh. “don’t bother. i’m going to sleep.” but you don’t get a reply back. instead what you get is loud repetition of knocks on your apartment door followed by your name.
he waits a beat and then continues knocking. “not leaving until you open the door” he texts you. out of compassion for your neighbors, you open the door. his hand stops mid knock as you gesture him to get in.
"i'm really sorry, i swear i didn't mean to keep you waiting for so long." he starts rambling and you look at him with a plain stare and arms crossed to let him know you're not having his bullshit — you already know he has other priorities.
"i lost track of time and i left the party as soon as i realized. my phone was dead, so i couldn't even text you. i just charged it on the way here. darling, you know i'd never keep you waiting," he moves closer to grab your hands and you let him.
you gulp hard trying to not cry. he reaches to touch your face but you jerk your head away. "don't gojo." the change stings him and you see a look of hurt pass over his face. "please" he drags out the syllable. "okay," you tell him and he almost smiles but you reach out and wipe the lipstick mark off his cheek bringing it up to his eyes "what's this then?"
he narrows his eyes at your thumb in thought, "it's nothing, i swear. she kissed my cheek out of nowhere and they took the photo and i moved away from her just as fast." and you scoff in disbelief, "you just have an answer for everything, don't you gojo."
he groans “just give me a minute,” and pulls out his phone — going through his texts to show the photos of him taken throughout the night. out of habit you take in his appearance. he looks unbelievably sexy in an all black outfit, a sheer black tank and a black overcoat with matching suit pants. you're immediately reminded of your white dress that you had picked earlier and think how perfectly it’d match his outfit. a tear involuntarily escapes your eye.
you wipe it casually before he can notice. he pulls up the photo probably going around on social media at the moment and then the one of him moving away from the lady, "see!" he exclaims. and you sigh, "what do you want me to say gojo?"
"first off, don't call me gojo. secondly, forgive me. it was an honest mistake, you know i'd never do it on purpose. and lastly, i've missed you so so much baby," he drops his forehead to yours and you don't pull away. cause you've missed him just the same.
"go home," you whisper to him. "can't." he replies in the same manner. "it's too late and i didn't get my car. let me stay. let me make it up to you."
you pull away from him and turn towards your bedroom. he lets out a sigh of relief thinking maybe you were giving him a second chance but his shoulders deflate just as quick when you say, "you can take the guest room."
and so he does. he'd take any chance to be close to you since his job makes it hard for him to stay around you for long periods of time. so whenever he comes to this city, he'd prefers to stay with you rather than at a hotel.
and although your relationship and feelings for each other were hidden under the title of "fuck buddies" you both knew it was more than that. both of you went exclusive as soon as you started sleeping with each other. hell you don't think you could find anyone who would fuck you as good as satoru does. and he doesn't even want to try because the way your pussy makes him feel is other worldly.
he gets out of the shower and opts to wear just his boxers and lays comfortably at the thought of making it up to you in the morning. meanwhile you twist and turn trying to find a position to sleep, wondering if you should give in or keep it up so he knows what he did was wrong.
you wake up to the sound of dishes clinking in the kitchen and smile when you remember satoru stayed over last night. albeit not with you but still. your jaw drops slightly when you walk out and see him standing by the stove in nothing but his boxers. the early morning light accentuating the dips and curves of his muscles.
"satoru!" you shriek covering your eyes. "oh, good morning baby. why are you hiding your face?" he asks as if he isn't standing there with his dick in your face. "why are you naked?! put something on!" you exclaim. "ahh, nothing you haven't seen before princess. plus i’m not naked. I’m wearing boxers!” he grins and then adds on “can't exactly wear those clothes when i'm cookin breakfast. it's uncomfortable."
"ugh," you say out loud and march back into your room. you come out with a pair of his sweatpants and throw it to him from across the counter. "wear these!"
"whatever you want baby," he pulls them on and they rest sinfully on his hips – almost teasing you and your cheeks flush. “can you taste this for me?” he asks and you walk around the counter to stand next to him as he pushes a spoonful of syrup towards you.
your eyes flutter close and you hum at the sweet taste. “this is really good,” you smile softly. “thanks. it’s for the french toast. i just put it in the oven to keep it warm. thought you’d be asleep for a little longer.” you beam at the mention of french toast, they were your favorite. “nutella?” you ask and he nods with a mesmerizing smile “just the way you like it, sweets.”
you both gaze at each other with a soft smile. “can i have another spoon?” you meek. you accidentally let a little bit of it dribble down your chin. “oh shit,” you’re about to wipe it off but satoru holds your hand and pulls you in closer.
you feel his tongue leave a wet trail behind as he licks the dripping syrup from your chin to the corner of your mouth. your breath hitches at the sensation. he pulls back and looks at you with smirk.
before he can take too much pride in catching you off guard, you surprise him by clashing your lips to his. he bucks backward and steadies himself with a grip on your waist.
his heart picks up a beat at finally feeling your plush lips on his. tasting the remnants of syrup still sticking to your lips. your kiss felt transcendental to him. like the only way to stay alive was the air that passed through your mouth to his. and he rejoiced at that. he’d be willing to live with you as his source of oxygen.
gaining back some composure he pushes you back and places you on the counter. you wrap your legs around his waist and pull him in further. his tongue tries to find its way into your mouth but you don’t budge. instead you giggle into the kiss and he takes it as an indication to kiss your teeth.
his lips move over your jaw, lightly nipping at the skin at the space under your ear. his tongue pokes out and traces your ear lobe once, twice and then he nibs down on the cartilage playfully with a whine of your name. the oven’s beeping brings you both out of the love lust trance you’re in.
he huffs and moves back to turn off the oven while you turn off the stove and grab another spoon of syrup. he turns back to see you leaning back on an arm and kicking your feet – dropping the sticky syrup over your clothed perked nipples. the lack of a bra evident. “oops” you pout, feigning innocence.
his breath seizes at the scene unfolding in front of him. he licks his lips once and then without wasting any more time, his mouth moves over your chest. licking the syrup off your shirt and in the process stimulating your nipples just like you hoped. he pulls off your shirt and throws it behind somewhere behind but before he can go further you stop him “wait!”.
“not in the kitchen,” you speak timidly – a flush creeping up your neck at his lustful stare. pressure builds in your stomach at the way he’s looking at you and you squeeze your thighs for a bit of friction.
“where?” he asks as he picks you up. “anywhere but the kitchen,” you whisper into the skin of his neck as you place a chaste kiss. and then he’s dropping down to his knees with you. laying you on the wooden floor of your living room
he leaves you on the floor for a beat and then comes back with the pot filled with syrup. he peels of your sweatpants along with your soaked panties. “lay still,” he tells you and you straighten out your legs and arms.
using you as his canvas he grabs the pot of syrup and tilts it over your body. creating a pattern of syrup on your naked body. he places the pot back on the counter and admires his work. a thoughtful grin on his face as he makes eye contact with you. “can i take a photo of you?” he asks and you nod without a second thought. he grabs your phone and snaps a pic. this image of yours would be imprinted in his mind forever and more.
“look at how beautiful you look,” and surely you do. sprawled out over the wooden floors of your apartment with a sticky substance covering your body. but that’s not all. the sun shines through the curtains, casting your body in an ethereal light and a ring of light on your head acting as a halo. “just like an angel. my angel. aren’t you baby?” he asks for confirmation.
and maybe it’s too early to say but you do anyway. “only yours, satoru. always yours,” you utter the words he’s been waiting for – well he feels like his whole life but in reality it’s only been three months since you two started this relationship.
the intensity of his gaze has a shiver run over your body and you can feel goosebumps erupt across your skin. he moves on top of you. taking his time with your body. licking over and over until he cleans the syrup. you almost feel like you’re not breathing as his mouth moves over your neck, collarbones, chest, stomach – lapping and littering your skin with love bites.
before moving further down he gives you a deep kiss and you can taste the sweetness of the syrup on his tongue as it tangles with yours. but it’s so incredibly satoru, to be tasting this sweet you can’t help but suck his tongue a little.
finally he spreads your thighs and makes himself at home. licking a quick stripe to test your wetness. there’s so much arousal it has him wondering if you already came. your nubs a shade darker, almost angry at being away from him for so long. he coos at your pussy as it was a separate being. “you missed me, didn’t you?” a peck to your clit. “i missed you too, but your mommy was tryna keep us apart.” you can’t help but laugh at the endearing silliness of him speaking to your pussy. faking a gasp he whispers “i know! it’s okay. going to take such good care of you now,” this time he looks at you.
his tongue moves over your bundle of nerves pressing down on your nub stimulating it just the right amount and plunging a finger into your cunt. his eyes flutter close at your taste. “nothing comes close to your sweetness, darling” he groans. your hands tangle in his head as he continues sucking your clit. you moan his name “ha ha ‘m so close toru.” so he speeds up his pace – licking ferociously, wanting you to reach your high quicker.
you come with a scream of his name. eyes shut and fingers tugging his hair but he has no complaints. he loved the sting when you tugged his hair like this – when you were too fucked out to even realize you were doing it.
he frees his cock and he feels like he can breath a bit better now. his hardened cock turns impossibly harder when you reach a hand down and pump it a few times and he watches in awe. pre cum lathering his length.
“you doing okay?” he asks you from above aligning himself but not pushing in. “yeah,” you hum but you’re lost in thought. about last night. but satoru notices everything. he squeezes your cheeks so you look at him. “what’s wrong?” genuinely concerned.
“i was hurt last night when you didn’t show up on time. and i didn’t understand why i was so hurt because it’s not like we’re dating or anything. but seeing that pic of you, out with those people hurt. cause i was here waiting for you, wanting to surprise you with a dress i bought, that i thought you’d like. but that doesn’t matter. what i’m trying to say is that this is more than just sex for me satoru. i really really like you. i want more of you. more of this. more of us.” you confess all that you’ve held in since this past few weeks of being apart from him.
he doesn’t say anything for a moment, reeling in your confession. you feel like you’ve ruined whatever you had going on. “satoru, it’s okay if you don’t feel the same way” in fact it wasn’t. you’d be heartbroken if he didn’t feel the same way. “you don’t have to say anything. i just, i-“ you’re about to continue but he cuts you off with a hard kiss. “i do too. all that you said. i too, want more of you, more of this, more of us. it’s more than just sex for me too, baby. has been for a while. i’m really sorry about last night. wear that dress for me tonight, please.” he pleads. “i’ll cook you a nice dinner and we can have our first date as an official couple. what’d you say?” he smiles softly.
your heart clenches at overwhelming emotions and tears line your eyes as you repeat yes over and over again until he’s kissing you and drinking the love out of you.
he carries you over to your bedroom and lays beside you. he grabs your leg and places it over his hip, lining his cock with your cunt. slowly he pushes into you. you both moan in unison. him at the feeling of your snug walls and you at the feeling of his cock stretching you apart.
your foreheads touch as you maintain eye contact. he thrusts into you ever so lovingly. languid and hard thrusts. as if you both had all the time in the world.
𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚。𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚。𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚。𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚。𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ���.
a/n: idk how i feel abt this 💔😭 but i hope you liked it. comments, likes and reblogs are highly appreciated!
© SONARSPACE 2023 | DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE, OR REPOST MY WORK ON OTHER PLATFORMS!
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g4yforethan · 19 hours
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LOST IN YOU
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pairing: steve rogers x bucky barnes x male!reader
summary: request for a while ago
warnings: cursing, smut, bottom!reader, praise k!nk
a/n: i actually have an obsession with chris evans atp it’s not even funny 🫡
you had gotten out of the shower and only had on your towel when a knock on your bedroom door startled you. “umm i’m changing right now!” you said hoping the person on the other side would understand. “aww come on y/n it’s just me and bucky! we have a lil surprise for you!” you recognized that voice anywhere. it was steve rogers, your muscular and extremely attractive friend who you wished was more than your friend. “yeah y/n we need your opinion on something.” you were curious by what bucky said and quickly opened the door. you were shocked to see both steve and bucky shirtless and only in their underwear. “oh my god are you guys insane?! what if nat or tony sees you?” they both laugh and enter your room while bucky locks the door.
“haha they’re all on a research mission right now. it’s just the three of us for now.” steve said with a grin on his face as both him and bucky sat next to you on the bed. “well what did you want my opinion for?” they both looked at each other with mischievous looks. “you see i don’t know about this underwear. i mean does it look good on me?” steve turned as you noticed his huge bugle and muscular ass inches away from you. “yes steve it looks amazing on you.” you try not to stare too long as you felt yourself slowly getting a boner. “okay my turn now. what do you think y/n? take all the time you want.” you also noticed his massive bulge poking out. “it looks fantastic on both of you truly.” you said as your face turned red.
“oh yeah? well would it look better like this?” steve pulls down his underwear and throws them on the ground. “oh yeah way better steve. my turn now.” bucky in return pulls down his underwear as well. you were in shock and thought you must be imagining. “now y/n it’s your turn.” steve said as he placed his hand on your chin and bucky massaged your shoulder. you got up and removed your towel as the both of them looked down excited to see you were ready. the three of you got into bed as steve and bucky quickly attacked your lips and neck. they both took turns devouring your lips while their hands moved all over your body. you moaned as steve but your lip as bucky massaged your cock. “oh yeah we’re gonna treat you just right y/n.” bucky said as he pushed you on top of him.
you kissed his chest and went down to his cock and began sucking on his hard and thick cock. all while steve watched stroking his dick and begging for your warm throat. “you know what to do cap.” bucky said to steve as steve quickly got behind you and began licking your hole. you moaned as steve teased your hole with his finger while bucky continued stuffing his cock down your throat. "it's gonna hurt a little baby but just trust me." steve whispered in your ear before you felt you felt a tight pressure on your hole. he entered your hole slowly and placed his hands on your lower back while you continued making out with buckys cock. as steve picked up the pace, you moaned in pleasure while bucky shoved his cock down your throat making you gag.
"fuck yeah y/n. hey steve, how about we switch?" bucky said as he felt your hole with his finger. steve agreed as bucky positioned you with your legs on his shoulders and steve behind you slapping your face with his cock. bucky entered your hole with ease and quickly began pounding it. steve followed as he rammed his cock up and down your throat. "fuck baby you're suck a fucking slut." steve said as he placed his hands on your face and continued using your throat. "ugh fuck y/n i think i'm gonna cum first." bucky said as you felt your hole fill with his warm and thick cum. bucky licked your leaking hole and kissed you on the lips before laying down. "ugh fuck your hole felt good. captain, he's all yours." steve smiled before laying on top of you and slowly inserting his cock inside you. you moaned as steve went at a fast pace and began to suck on your neck and chest.
"haha that's right cap fuck his hole." bucky said as he watched steve ram his thick cock inside you. your moans grew louder and louder so steve put his finger inside your mouth. "shush baby that's right. suck on my finger." you sucked on his finger while you felt his sweat come onto you. "ughh fuck y/n. fuck im gonna cum." you felt that same warm sensation of his cum fill your insides as steve laid back and let out a big exhale. "hey come on steve we can't just leave y/n hanging. it's not like he's our sex toy. haha come here baby boy." bucky lifted your legs and began licking your hole. you started stroking your cock as steve began playing with your nipples and kissing them. "ugh fuck that feels so good." you said as bucky kissed your hole. "lemme help you there y/n." steve said as he removed your hand and filled his mouth with your cock. "just ram it in there." he said as you shoved your coke down steve’s throat.
“ugh fuck i’m gonna cum.” you said as an overwhelming sense of pleasure ran through your body. “cum in my mouth baby.” steve said as you filled his mouth with your cum. you exhaled and laid between them. “fuck you guys. we can’t tell anyone about this.” you said as you worried about the avengers finding out. “don’t worry about a thing y/n. this will just be our little secret.” bucky said as he played with your hair and steve held his arm around your body. “now lay back and get some rest. you did a good job tonight baby boy.” steve said as you slowly closed your eyes and drifted to sleep.
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Ě̸̡̞̱̘̹̮̫͚̯͍͕̟̪͂̀̋̉̾͛̂̑̅͜͝c̴̢̺̟̣̠̤̽͋͒̄̄͂̆̿͗̑̊̒̒̕ḧ̷͇͍͉͉̺͈͙́̀͆̀̒̒̅̒͒̔̽ó̶͔̜̓͛̓̂̔̆͌́͆̉͂͘͝͠es of regrets
So! I saw this post from @rivyx (if you like, I can untag you. Just wanna give credit where credit is due):
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And I thought:
"Man. It's been a while since I broke my own heart. Oh! Angst between Geordi and Cutie? How about I make Geordi regret for making Cutie believe that they need to multiate and hide the magical part of themselves and even the Empowered world because he doesn't understand a Telepath's needs?"
Hence. This oneshot. Shout out to @moonandstarlightsposts for helping me come up with the title!
(Yes. Yes. I know. Cutie was canonically at fault, too. I just wanna focus on Geordi regretting his actions for a change.)
-
Summary: Second chances come and go. But for Geordi and Cutie, perhaps they should have let it go by.
First comes the awkwardness. 
It’s to be expected. A break was decided - no, needed - for the both of them after… well. No point in digging up bad memories. The two of them were heading down a dangerous spiral, and Geordi could no longer ignore the red flags. He’d been through too much to drown in toxicity and abuse again. Whether his partner realised it or not. And that’s the part that crushed his heart. A heart that Geordi painstakingly put back together with liquid gold and long nights of tearful frustrations. He told them about Ben. He told them how his ex callously disregarded his boundaries. And Cutie just - 
Therapy was something they agreed to during their break. Geordi needed to address old trauma that re-open like wounds and Cutie - 
‘I… I hope this isn’t me coming across as presumptuous, but one of my coworkers is a really good therapist. I think you’ll like him! His name is Cam - ’
‘I still have my old therapist’s number. Um. Thanks, though.’
‘O-Oh! Right. Of course. I should’ve thought of that. I just… never mind.’
That was the last text that Cutie sent. Even after they moved out of his apartment, the two continued to exchange careful messages with one another, awkwardly making sure not to step on each other’s landmines. However, as days gone by, the texts became more and more superficial: ’Morning. Have you eaten?’. ‘Just cereal. Thanks for checking up on me.’ ‘The weather forecast mentioned a thunderstorm. Don’t forget an umbrella, ok?’. When Cutie brought the subject of therapists to the table - 
The texts stopped after that. 
Geordi had no idea how lonely his existence truly was without Ben and Cutie. The two-bedroom apartment became too big. He cooked too much for a single person. His left side felt too exposed whenever his coworkers dragged him out for drinks and karaoke. It hurts. He has a habit of rubbing his left arm nowadays. 
His therapist is a kind woman, the kind that has laugh lines all over her face. Older than him, more at ease with her place in the world, unlike Geordi. She never judges him whenever he finds the courage to unravel before her. Ugly, jagged broken pieces for a heart. Gold and bitter tears for the next few months. 
Soon, a year passes. 
Something settled within Geordi then. New foundations were built. The world is a little less lonely now that he has opened up to his coworkers, reached out to some cousins on phones and slowly put himself out there again. He had fallen in love with building LEGOs recently. A hobby that happily kept him occupied while a slow, reverb version of Evil by Melanie Martinez plays in the background of the living room. 
It took a while, but he finally reached a point and mental headspace to put Cutie back into the equation. 
His therapist's words constantly echo in his head, grounding him whenever his fingertips run on the rim of their favourite mug, red with little ladybugs on the ceramic. Witty, funny, confident, mischievous and kind - Cutie’s best would always outshine their worst in Geordi’s eyes. Perhaps that’s why he subconsciously ignores the raising red flags the more and more they tested his boundaries. Anyway, being with Cutie brought out the best of Geordi in return, which he never even knew existed. He loved them, plain and simple. He loves learning about them and their world every day of the week. He was so happy and content whenever they were in his arms. Growing old together was something he thought about when they drove back home from his folks’. Cutie was fast asleep, with their head gently resting against the window of the car. That moment was magical in its own way. 
Geordi misses them. His incredible, one-of-a-kind partner. 
He thinks about them more often than not nowadays, wondering how therapy is going for them. Had they fallen in love with any new hobbies? Did Cutie make any new friends outside of the Department? If so, he wonders what they’re like. 
Thoughts turn to yearning. Yearning turns to Geordi, picking up his phone and texting Cutie first for once.
‘Hey. Good morning. How are you?’
The two of them never used to be awkward when they were a couple. Feeling hopeful, Geordi puts aside his phone as he continues about his day. Fixing himself a hearty lunch using a recipe that he can’t wait to share with Cutie and goes about doing the laundry afterwards. It’s only after his evening shower that a notification lights up on his phone screen. 
‘Hey. I’m alright. You?’
Superficial. That’s OK, though. Geordi is not giving up. 
The two resume texting every day soon enough as if the distance weren’t ever there. It makes him happy to be updated with every little thing that is going on in Cutie’s life. He spams GIFs and emojis at every picture they share and they, in return, slowly start to send over recorded audio of their little laughter and quips. It makes him miss them all the more. Enough to replay those audios over and over again whenever he can’t sleep at night. During those nights, his phone would always be on the right side of the bed.
Texting eventually evolves to calling when Geordi wakes up from a rather bad nightmare. Something so vague that it slipped from the recess of his conscious as he panted for air. Without even thinking about it, he presses on a familiar number. His call is answered almost immediately. 
“Geordi? Why are you awake around this hour?”
Relief floods into his very being. They once fondly tease him that, no, their voice isn’t magic. Unlike Vampires and their special eyes, Telepaths specialised in minds instead. It’s his love that makes their voice special and it’s love that dispels the lingering nightmare. 
“Geordi?” Cutie’s voice is hesitant at the end of the line. “Is everything ok? Do you have someone nearby that you can call for help?” 
“No! No, no. I’m fine.” Comes his quick assurance. The shirt that he brought to sleep is drenched in sweat. His hair is matted to his forehead. He feels gross, and yet he doesn’t want to put Cutie on loudspeaker while he cleans himself up. “I just… really miss you. So much.” 
Cutie’s reply is a whisper, “I-I miss you too. Can I ask if that’s the reason why you called me?” 
“Yeah… had a nightmare; can’t remember what it was about. What I do remember is how you used to bring me to the kitchen, and you’d make warm chocolate milk for the both of us to help. You’d then talked me through it, helped me calm me down. Did I ever thank you for that? Thank you, by the way.” 
“You’re welcome. I like taking care of you. And, uh, you did thank me. Always.” 
Geordi lets out a ragged sigh. Those happy moments were just what he needed. “Did I wake you up? I didn’t mean to.” 
“Nah, you’re good. I was doing some leftover documents for an assignment.” 
Cutie never used to stay up past midnight. They like to sleep early whenever they can due to how mentally, emotionally, and physically taxing their job as an intel extraction officer can be. Cutie often rants about how the Department inefficiently run things, especially when it comes to bureaucracy. Perhaps this is one of their new habits? Speaking of which - 
“How’s work treating you? Did you get that promotion?” 
“Work’s alright. Are you feeling better now?” 
Well, his heart was no longer racing, that’s for sure. But he still wants to hear their voice even through the static. “Like magic. You’re always the perfect cure for everything.” He waits for Cutie to laugh in that out-of-breath sort whenever he compliments them. Light and carefree.
Instead, they hum. 
“Glad to hear it. Are you going to try and go back to sleep?” 
“Only when you are, Cutie.” Geordi tries to flirt and perhaps coax them to rest for the evening. 
“Don’t worry about me. I’ll go to bed in a bit. Um. If that’s all - ”
Perhaps it’s because the nightmare that he can no longer recall had something to do with Cutie. Perhaps it’s because he hasn’t heard their voice properly in so, so long. Whatever it is, it gave Geordi a burst of courage. He quickly asks before Cutie can hang up, “Wait, wait! Can I see you, Cutie? I just want to talk. Please?” He swallowed thickly. “I think we’re ready to discuss about… us.” 
A thoughtful silence from Cutie. 
“I’d like that. Where do you want to meet up?” 
Geordi’s night becomes much sweeter after that. They talk and plan until his eyes grow heavy and Cutie’s documents are filed away. They even put him on loudspeaker and brought him to the bathroom so they could continue talking while they showered. God, the sounds of running water alone fill him with wants and images. He can’t stop picturing himself in that shower with them. So you can’t blame how incredibly giddy Geordi is when he finally sees Cutie walk up to the cafe the next day. They offered him a small smile as they made themselves comfortable across the table. Healthy and rocking a new fashion style when Geordi is busy absorbing every little detail about them. He could honestly stare at them like a work of art in the Louvre. 
“So I’m here…” Cutie says rather unnecessarily. They scratch their cheek nervously. “You wanted to talk?” 
He snaps out of a daze. Shit, he got distracted by his thoughts! For a split second, Geordi can’t help but wonder if they heard his inner ramblings. Judging by Cutie’s guarded expression, he lets out a sigh of relief. It sets his heart at ease to learn about this new side of Cutie. “Yeah. Thanks for agreeing to meet up with me. You look… god, Cutie. You look amazing.” 
“Thanks! You’re not too bad on the eye yourself.” Cutie’s smile is wider now. “We’ve practically caught up to speed with each other lives for a while now. So, this is it. Whatever you decide, I’ll respect it this time. I promise.” 
That assurance dissolves any doubts that Geordi might have harboured. He’s more sure about his next few words than ever before. “I still want us to be together, Cutie. That never changed. Even when we were on a break, I had no one else. I love you, even when you broke my heart. Do you… do you still feel the same?” 
Cutie reaches out to hold his hand, which is gripping a fork so tightly. He didn’t even realise it. The moment when skin meets skin, a familiar warmth spread across his arm. It’s like sunshine thawing out the chills in his bone marrow. He lets go of the fork in favour of holding their hand and squeezes it. “My feelings haven’t changed too. I love you so damn much, Geordi. I know I said it before, but I’m so sorry for hurting you. Words alone aren’t enough to promise you that I won’t do it again, but I’ll make sure my actions make up for it. From now on, you’ll lead where this relationship is going. I’ll follow” Steely determination glimmers behind Cutie’s eyes. God, they look so hot! Would his therapist finally judge him if he asked Cutie to drag him to the bathroom for a quickie? It’s been too long since they’re in him. 
“Geordi? Are you ok? You look flush.” Some of that hesitation creeps back into Cutie. Dimming that spark of fire. He panics when their hand tugs back. 
“Yeah! Sorry. My head’s a bit of a mess.” He begins to explain. Here, he lowered his voice; his eyes lidded. “Maybe you can make sense of it? You might like what you find, Cutie…” 
“Oh!” For some reason, Cutie looks positively alarmed. A deer in a headlight. He had never seen that kind of look on their face before. Their sudden reaction threw Geordi off guard. Any lustful thoughts are completely replaced with concern now. “Maybe later. So, uh, where do we go from here? I can’t move back in just yet due to my apartment lease. Or do you want things to stay as they are right now for a little while longer?” 
Continue this distance between them? Geordi doesn’t think he’s that strong of a man.
“Feel free to move in any time you can. My place is your home. You know that.” 
That gorgeous smile slowly returns. This is Cutie at their best. After that day, things begin falling into place without a hitch. Cutie is back in his life. They bring their clothes and toiletries over when their lease is up - 
“You kept my mug?” 
“Of course I did, silly. Why would I throw it out?” 
“Right… right. Sorry.” 
“Cutie? Is something wrong?” 
“Nah, don’t worry about it. Say, that recipe you bookmarked earlier, why don’t you let me take a crack at it? I’ll handle dinner tonight!” 
- their routines fall into one once more, and Geordi couldn’t be happier. His world is no longer filled with silence and bitterness.
Second comes the realisation. 
Geordi has been riding high on cloud nine ever since Cutie settled back into his apartment, into his life. Waking up to their sleeping face feels like a dream that he never wants to end. Their giggling when he rouses them with kisses is a bonus. He loves greeting the morning sun with a partner who is happy and satiated from the night before. And if Cutie is in the mood to play? Well! He’s more than happy to ruin the sheets for the third time in the span of six hours. 
And don’t even get him started on domestic bliss. 
Since Cutie’s work hours are a lot more flexible than Geordi’s, he’s forever grateful that they always have a pot of hot coffee ready for him on the table and a sweet kiss before he dashes out for the day. If he returns before traffic picks up in the evening, the couple would either go out for a dinner date or stay at home and binge-watch a new series while they eat in the living room. They alternate in cooking and cleaning depending on their schedule, but Cutie seems to have a habit of doing both whenever they can. The coworkers that he invited over for DnD sessions would whistle and nudge him on the shoulder when they looked around the spotless apartment, praising him for scoring the perfect partner after Cutie left them with a tray of snacks and drinks. Internally, Geordi preens. 
When the weekends roll around, and it’s just the two of them lazying together in their sweats and old t-shirts, Geordi and Cutie would spend time together by combining their new hobbies. Geordi would lose himself in another LEGO building project while Cutie reads a novel on their phone on the couch. His favourite playlists play on and on, wrapping the couple in a peaceful cocoon. 
That is until - 
Geordi blinks, back in the present, when he suddenly hears the sliding door of the balcony softly shut. He sees Cutie outside talking on the phone, their back against him. He watches them moving their free hand animatedly for a few seconds longer before focusing back on the tower that he had been building. When the sliding door shuts again, he absentmindedly asks, “Hey, Cutie? What are you in the mood for lunch? Do you want to go to that Chinese restaurant down the street or…” His words trail off the moment he notices the frustrated lines on his partner's forehead. Their eyes were exhausted all of a sudden. Before he could say anything, his partner flashed an apologetic smile. 
“Work called. Something came up. I need to step out in a bit, but I should have some time to make lunch - ”
Geordi stops them right there and then. He doesn’t want them to get more stressed out, especially when an emergency - he assumed - just happened. “No, no. Don’t sweat it. How about you go get ready while I make us lunch? I’d rather you have something in your stomach before you leave.” He replies, already up on his feet. 
Deer in a headlight on Cutie. Again. What’s going on? “I can do it. It’s your rest day after all - ”
“Nu-uh. You just get your pretty ass in the shower, alright? I’ll have your favourites ready as soon as you step out of our bedroom door again.” Geordi assures them, but in reality? He’s so confused. They never so stressed out about cooking before. Seriously, what’s going on? 
Cutie eventually nods. They kiss him on the cheek and make a beeline for the bathroom while Geordi takes out a wok and spatula. Their strange behaviour remains in his mind as he makes spicy stir-fry noodles. Now that he thinks about it, they’ve been going along with everything he likes nowadays. Cooking his favourite meals, making sure the laundry is clean and folded, helping him with the LEGOs, hanging out with his friends and letting him initiate intimacy and sex every time. They laugh when he tells jokes, as cheesy as they are. Apart from their clothes and toiletries, they haven’t brought back their Digimon plushies, or any of their physical books on the shelves. They hate horror movies, but when he absentmindedly suggests they watch Saint Maud, they agree without any hesitation. 
It’s like they’re a satellite, faithfully orbiting Geordi’s every need and want. Why… why did he never notice that before? And when was the last time they went out to Cutie’s favourite restaurant again? When was the last time they did what Cutie wanted for a change? 
Ah. Geordi remembers now. It was before they went on a break. 
Something’s wrong with Cutie. Shit! Why didn’t he notice it before!? Was he truly caught up in his own world that he utterly neglected his partner’s? 
The noodles are hot and plated, ready on the table, but Geordi feels so cold and empty. Guilt was heavy in his stomach. His grin is stiff when Cutie finally emerges wearing their standard work fit. Even in black slacks and a white collared shirt, Cutie looks like a model ready for the runway. They tuck into their meal, but Geordi doesn’t have much appetite for it. So many thoughts clash with one another in his head like angry hornets. He doesn’t even know where to start or what to ask. At times like this, Cutie would slip into his mind and act as his anchor. But ever since they got back together again - 
“What time would you be coming home?” Is what comes out from Geordi’s lips, frustrated with himself. 
Cutie stops washing their dishes to turn around. “If all goes well? In the evening. Probably before midnight, so you don’t have to wait up or put aside dinner for me. I can just grab something when I leave the office.” 
And that’s another thing that Geordi just now realised. They don’t talk about work as much as they did before. When asked, sure, Cutie would always answer him, but it was never more than a, “Oh, my cases? Some old, same old.”, “These documents are pretty boring, actually. Something for the higher-ups to keep in their record.”, “The therapist I mentioned before? Oh, you mean Cam? He’s still working on the floor above mine.” Lukewarm. Tepid. Those are the kinds of replies that Cutie would often give him before the conversation seamlessly shifts to another topic. 
Not once have they performed magic around him. In fact, ever since they got back together again, Cutie’s voice is constantly absent in his mind. 
Suddenly, Geordi feels sick. He forces himself to put on a brave face, a mask that tells his partner that everything is alright, because their eyebrows begin to furrow in hesitation. 
And now he knows why. 
“Call me when you leave?” Geordi tries not to plead. His voice didn’t crack, that good. The last thing he wants is to get the love of his life in trouble with their superiors. They never did tell him if they received that promotion or not. 
It’s a bittersweet victory when Cutie smiles again. “Sure! Have fun with your project, baby.” 
They exchange a long kiss; he wonders if they find it weird that Geordi is reluctant to pull their lips away from him. He weeps and weeps into his hands when they leave the apartment. What has he done? Oh god, Cutie… he didn’t mean to. He didn’t mean to drive them into cutting a part of themselves in order to make him happy. He didn’t mean to be so blinded when they made themselves smaller and smaller if that’s what they thought would make him happy. Would let them stay in his life. 
He didn’t mean to hurt Cutie. He didn’t mean for any of this to happen! He thought that - he had hoped they got better, not - why couldn’t they just talk - has he become Ben? 
Mrs Potato Head plays on and on while Geordi struggles to breathe. 
Finally, in comes the heartbreak. 
Geordi didn’t even wait for Cutie to come back. The moment he regained control of himself, he ran out with his phone and wallet. His eyes are rimmed-red, just like the setting sun behind him. He knows which streets are veiled against people like him; he just hopes he can ask for help from any Empowered folks who might be entering the Department. He has to fix this. He desperately needs to talk to Cutie. He needs them to know that he loves every part of them, that he loves the magical world as much as they do. 
However, when he cuts through the park, he freezes. 
Sitting on a bench a little further from the playground is his partner, crying in the arms of a stranger. Cracks begin to form in Geordi’s heart. He’s too far away to hear what they’re saying, but judging from how the stranger does the talking and Cutie sighs and sniffles, it clued him in pretty quickly that they’re talking through him via telepathy. The stranger smiles sadly and offers them a handkerchief. His body language is serene, but the expression on his beautiful face is tight and worried. Is he a coworker? Another lover? Geordi doesn’t know what to believe anymore. Stricken, he watches them pat the stranger’s hand and gathers up their things. Leaving him on the bench as Cutie makes their way out of the park. 
It’s at that moment that Geordi’s phone rings. He answers the call without a word. 
“Hey, baby. Just left the office.” Cutie’s voice is hoarse. They clear their throat. This time, they sound more like themselves again - fake and bright. “Turns out one of the interns needed a stand-in instructor for tomorrow’s fieldwork. Since I’m on the way home, do you want me to grab anything?” 
Geordi watches them wait at the same bus stop from which he just got off. “Why haven’t you talked to me through my head?” 
“…Geordi, I’m out right now. Can we maybe talk about this at home?” 
“OK. Why have you stopped ironing your work clothes with your hands?” 
“I-I like using your new iron instead. What’s going on, Geordi? Did I do something wrong? Look, tell me how I can fix it, please? I don’t… I don’t know what I did wrong…” 
Is this how it will always be when they’re together? Hurting each other whether they mean to or not? Acts of love turning into subservience? 
The weaker side of him can’t help but wonder if it was a mistake for him and Cutie to get back together again if it means new sorrows and new regrets will always sour their relationship. 
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threadsoflacee · 1 day
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Do you think Will makes Hannibal much more human?
OMG good question !!! yes ! for me humanity is all abt emotions. an animal or a god can’t show emotions because it’s about survival and power. i think hannibal fits the animal criteria in his endless search of egoistic pleasure and a god in how he doesn’t care who he hurts in finding that pleasure , but Will coming into his life just blows away everything. hannibal was lonely for so long, but because of his strength and narcissistic tendencies he never really admitted this part of himself (like how he asks franklyn if he’s attracted to his friend, if he’s afraid of being alone). but having will by his side and risking being seen feels so much better than any heightened sense of self he already has when he’s alone !!! in s1 hannibal is very detached and he’s the master of his own world. but as the show continues his emotions for will are so overwhelming and new and scary !!! bc he’s supposed to be big boy Hannibal Lecter !!!! and i think his emotions can come across as awkwardly executed and thoughtless in how he frames will for his murders just to push the Becoming agenda, but all he really wants is to see Will bloom and share this pleasure with him. so yes i definitely think Will unravels that awkward affectionate emotional human side of Hannibal he always tries to suppress ! just like how Will suppresses his violent brutal sadistic side. Will is TOO human and Hannibal is not human enough. until they meet each other and they balance each other ^_^
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zukosdualdao · 5 hours
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i promise i'll do better (i will soften every edge)
zutara month, day 11: "mom and dad are fighting again", @zutaramonth
summary: kya interrupts an argument between katara and zuko.
warnings: reference to (implied) abuse/domestic violence, wrt to ozai's treatment of ursa.
other notes: lyrics from 'light' by sleeping at last. don't ask me how timelines work idk. yes there is a zutara daughter named kya here (separate entity from the lok kya.) she wears her hair in a southern water tribe braid and zuko calls her firecracker and it’s very cute. not really relevant but in this story i’m imagining she’s a nonbender.
“Katara, you know I agree with you.”
Across from him, she crosses her arms, and Zuko sighs. The throne room is empty, save for the two of them, and Zuko feels trapped, claustrophobic in the walls. They’ve made a point of opening up windows in the castle, letting light filter in, getting rid of old, haunting portraits, and making something new and beautiful together. 
But the throne room doesn’t have windows to open. On a day like today, at times like these, it’s all too easy to remember the staunchly severe figures both his grandfather and father made here, walling themselves as they did behind high, towering fires.
Maybe they shouldn’t be having this talk here. It's too late now, but something to note for the future.
“It doesn’t seem like it.”
“Of course I want to increase reparations soon,” he insists. “That’s the plan, and that’s always been the plan. But we have to be smart about this,” he tries to remind her. “We can’t do it all at once, or people will try to block—”
“Oh, so now you’re all about thinking things through! Those instincts could have served you well years ago, you know.”
Zuko closes his eyes and runs a hand through his hair. The words are biting, but it’s nothing he can’t handle. Things have been tense again in the Fire Nation lately. Better than ever before in some ways. Worse in others.
The first years after the war were a turbulent time in the Fire Nation—riots from those not happy with the changing of the old guard, strikes from workers contesting the need to pay reparations to the other nations, whispers of loyalists to the old regime plotting to get either Ozai or Azula back on the throne. A few assassination attempts, all handled efficiently but reason enough for concern.
Ten years past the end of the war, though, and things have started to stabilize. The plan has always been to increase reparations once the Fire Nation’s economy has improved, and Zuko intends to keep his word. But part of the system he’s trying to build means that there are representatives from all over the Fire Nation, as well as the other nations, and they each have their own agendas. It’s a tricky thing to navigate; he has to take all of their concerns seriously, of course, but also act according to his own principles. To live up to the promises he made years ago, and that he’ll continue to make for years to come.
Katara looks at him with a combative raise of her eyebrow.
It’s taken a strain on their relationship. It doesn’t happen often, but when it does, they’re both a little too good at lashing out, both a little too good at saying the thing that will hurt, even if they immediately regret it.
But usually, by the end of the day if not before, they can remember they’re on the same side, for all that their perspectives might differ.
“Can we pause?” Zuko asks of her, and her features soften. “Just—try to hear each other out? Katara, I understand…” but before he can finish, the large door to the throne room creaks, and Zuko watches as one of the serving maids guides their daughter into the room.
“See?” Kya points to them, eyes wide with alarm and lip quivering. “Mom and Dad are fighting again.”
Something in Zuko’s stomach drops. He doesn’t want her to worry about this. About them. He’d had to worry about his parents, to worry about his mother, Ozai looming over her, and sometimes Zuko was pretty sure he saw fear in her eyes where there should have been love, and then—
She’d been gone. And he’d drawn his own conclusions, quietly and with little reason to question them.
“She coudn’t sleep,” Hina says apologetically, and Zuko only waves a hand. “She was asking for you both.”
“Thank you for bringing her.”
“Oh, sweetie, don’t worry,” Katara says, walking over and lifting Kya up onto her hip. “Things are just tense right now,” she says, with a guilty sideways look to Zuko, who smiles weakly. “It’s not anything for you to worry about.”
“Promise?”
Zuko walks over to join the huddle and places a kiss atop her dark hair, which is twisted in a braid. “Promise, little firecracker. Mom and Dad are just trying to figure out the right way to handle something.” He meets Katara’s eyes and tries to impress the sincerity of his words on her. “But we will figure it out. We always do.”
Katara smiles at him and uses the hand not keeping Kya secure on her hip to touch the small of Zuko’s back in a gentle gesture. The three of them stand huddled together, and for the first time in… weeks, probably, Zuko feels his body relax, just a little.
He smiles back, a little exhausted but a lot relieved—to have Katara with him, there to both challenge and support him, to have Kya with them, creative and funny and quick as a whip as she is, and at only age four. He’s glad to have his family.
They are okay. Right now, they are okay. Whatever else may come.
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iamnmbr3 · 19 hours
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Sorry if I am sending too many asks but my mind is running overtime!
So part of the appeal of Drarry is how obsessed they are with each other. But...when I picture a girl in Draco's place, it becomes kind of creepy and stalkerish the way Harry behaves.
I know Draco is a DE and Harry has every right to be suspicious. I don't blame him for that. Do you think there's more leniency because it's a gay pairing? If James used the map to track Lily's whereabouts (which I suspect he did at least once come on), that would never be romantic.
What do you think?
Don’t be sorry at all! I love getting asks and will answer the rest tomorrow. I think it’s all about motivation. So yes, if James was using the map to track Lily’s location because of his romantic interest in her I do think that would be creepy. And I think it would be equally creepy even if both of them were men or both were women.
Harry and Draco undeniably live rent free in each other’s heads. But the 6th year stalking is more about Harry trying to stop a threat. I think Harry is more aware of Draco because there’s a certain unspoken attraction between them. That’s why he is immediately able to realize something is off with Draco in sixth year. And may also be part of why Harry is so interested in catching him at it and becomes so consumed with thoughts of him.
However, the reason that he is following him with the map is because he is literally stalking him because he believes that Draco is a Death Eater doing something that poses a danger to the school. He’s not stalking him so he can get close to him romantically.
In fact, the most notable thing that happens from a romantic pov is that when following Draco a leads to him getting hurt Harry backs off completely despite the fact that continuing to follow him would be the safest course of action. The only reason for this is because Harry can’t deal with a situation that endangers Draco.
This is very different context from obsessively stalking your crush because you like them so I don’t think the genders really matter much here.
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flowerflamestars · 1 year
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Chapters: 3/4 Fandom: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death Relationships: Nesta Archeron/Lucien Vanserra, Elain Archeron & Nesta Archeron, Elain Archeron & Lucien Vanserra, Elain Archeron/Eris Vanserra Characters: Nesta Archeron, Lucien Vanserra, Elain Archeron, Eris Vanserra, Eris Vanserra's Hounds, Cassian, Rhysand, Morrigan, Helion (A Court of Thorns and Roses) Additional Tags: Slow Burn, Friends to Lovers, timeloop AU, Absolute chaos after chapter one, Timeloop ending death but also. Murder, fuck around and find out as a Plan, The Hybernian War, Bisexual Lucien Vanserra, Bisexual Nesta Archeron, Found Family, Arson, best friends overnight, (and very different reactions to that fact), Elain Archeron has a personality and a brain, Bookstores as important rebellion, healing and becoming, Oral Sex, Canonical Abusive Relationships Summary:
It takes sixteen loops, to realize the trick to resetting is to let himself die.
@skychild29 @missanniewhimsy @blackcanary13 @ae-neon @theknittingoracle @andrigyn
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a-little-bit-poss · 2 months
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shorthaltsjester · 1 year
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like. the Heartbreak that after imogen has been spending so much time denying her mother’s demand that she run only for it to be the same plead she gives her friends. specifically orym and laudna. run. i’ve already put you in harm’s way before. your lives have already ended once because of me. and in that very moment she is still denying her mother’s call for her to turn heel and run. but she doesn’t want to take the others with her in that.
and hours earlier, on the skyship, fearne echoing imogen’s mother’s words. telling her to run and her expression after like she so desperately wants to say she’ll do that. but it’s come up before. imogen’s tired of running, even if it’s a different voice asking it of her this time, i’m so excited to see how her choices play out in the solstice.
#also like. not to make everything about shipping because to be real i am invested in every choice imogen makes i don’t care if she destroys#every bond she’s ever forged in the process because she’s such an interesting character to me#but there’s something so. compelling about the pieces of each other that imogen and fearne recognize#that isn’t always recognized by others. or isn’t Pushed by others#like when fearne asked if imogen was sure her exploding wasn’t intentional#or imogen always bargaining with fearne’s thievery#or their reactions and anger and sadness around parents#like. the thing is that fearne and imogen’s dynamic gives a lot of the same unwavering support and care that laudna and imogen or#orym and fearne do. but in both those relationships the dynamic also has a sort of. stagnancy on both sides that thinks the person#they care for will stay the same version of that person#but like. there’s a willingness to slide towards provoking one another that fearne and imogen have while also being so supportive that is.#delicious. because like i Love imogen and laudna’s complication but their support seems in a lot of cases to be a Looking away from what#might typically be unlovable. or what might be hard to deal with#whereas fearne sees imogen’s storm and says I’m Not Aftraid of Her and imogen sees fearne urge her to continue to hurt her father in a brain#dive and is like. okay. the rage.#even like. fearne agreeing to do something if imogen flips sides is . idk#to me fearne and imogen are the briarwoods realness in c3. yes they see the ugly yes they’ll poke each other about it#and still. they’re there for each other.#critical role#cr spoilers#imogen temult#laudna#orym#fearne calloway#bell’s hells#campaign 3#imogearne#imodna#fearne & imogen
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firebirdsdaughter · 2 years
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Pffffffffffttt…
… How did I forget that??? I literally forgot Adler tries to play the son card, while literally talking about how Peter’s a threat to his plans. And it’s just like lol sorry bitch, Neal’s got a real dad now.
Also the way Neal keeps looking between dead Adler and Peter like, well I’m sure he’s traumatised by the whole nearly getting shot thing, but like… Like he almost can’t believe Peter just did that for him.
Tragically, Mozzie then has to inadvertently ruin it, but it was great while it lasted.
#White Collar#the things that coulda been had they gotten to continue#not gonna lie I totally forgot Peter killed him#bc he was pointing a gun at Neal like how's that for karma#which just gives more fuel to my interpretation of why he didn't shoot James#bc look at his track record#he shoots Fowler for pulling a gun on Diana and messing w/ Neal#he shoots Adler for pointing a gun at Neal#he's shot any number of criminals several of whom were pointing guns at Neal (yes a trend XD)#but he doesn't shoot James not even to injure#he gives him a warning shot#and I bet my fancy figurines (no I don't I paid good money for those) it's bc James was Neal's father#meanwhile I don't blame either Peter or Neal for being upset at the end there#after seeing that painting scrap Peter has right to be suspicious#unfortunately Neal genuinely didn't do it so he's caught completely off guard and genuinely hurt#see it's possible to do well done understandable arguments for these two!#they can end up saying things that hurt each other w/ reason#Peter is justified in accusing Neal and I think he's taking it extra hard bc of everything that happened#but like above Neal actually has NO IDEA so to him the accusation comes out of nowhere bc he didn't see the painting scrap#ironically if he had things mighta cleared up sooner bc Neal would be shocked to see his painting in the remains#but you can tell this hurts both of them#Peter doesn't WANT Neal to have done this but he's Peter he cares about the truth#Neal's traumatised and confused how Peter went from shooting someone for him to accusing him#it's like Adler's last curse#and they're both such good actors that the pain is absolutely palpable#Matt Bomer looks like he's about to burst into tears and Tim DeKay is the definition of the agonised stoic#like how the hell did we go from this to those ooc lines in s5??? HOW????#Adopt a Felon 101
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tiredsadpeach · 1 year
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More lore about the friend that is mad at me
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luveline · 20 days
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BABE i miss badass bau!reader!!! do you feel up to write something about her and spencer? 🫣🫣
—Spencer comforts you, even when you think you don’t need it. fem, 1.2k
You’d think that agents and staff working for the Behavioural Analysis Unit would use a little subtlety when gossiping about their coworkers. It’s in the name. You’re a profiler, after all, but you wouldn’t need to be to know that the sudden quiet that falls over the kitchenette area when you walk in is for a reason. 
You’re determined to act unbothered. Only, it’s high school all over again, the whispering and the staring boring holes in the back of your head, and you’re thinking What are they saying about me? What have you done now? 
Flustered, you make a cup of herbal tea and forget it on the counter by the sink. Humiliated, you rush back to your desk. 
Spencer doesn’t look up as you sit. Your desks are together again for now, but who knows what whim will have Hotch separating you again. Last time it had been for ‘enabling bad behaviour’. 
So what if Spencer likes to talk? He’d only think all the things he’s saying to himself. You’re speeding up the process if anything by listening. Plus, whatever the others might think, he’s interesting, smart and funny and he deserves to be listened to when he wants to tell you things. 
“Hey,” you say, trying to push the humiliation brewing in your chest back to a quiet place. 
“Hey,” he says. He talks to you in a way he doesn’t with the others. He’s more relaxed, less exuberantly friendly and more like a true friend. 
He’s the only one in this whole office you’d ever want to sit next to every day. “Hi. What are you reading?” 
Spencer folds his novel closed over his hand, an answer on his lips that stutters and fades. “Hey, are you okay?” 
“I’m fine.” 
“You look unhappy.” 
It’s that unfortunate moment that Morgan decides to arrive, a cup of coffee in one hand, a brown paper bag in the other. He shrugs out of his leather jacket, eyeing you both where you’ve stopped your conversation, the slight light of smugness to his eyes as he says, “Doesn’t she always?” 
“Around you, Morgan, yes,” you say, turning your body fully to your computer. “That would be accurate.” 
Morgan laughs heartily. “You love me.” 
Maybe. You certainly don’t like him. Or, you’re annoyed with him most of the time. You wonder occasionally if he and the rest of your teammates are emotionally blind, considering the way they treat Spencer. Everybody makes their funny ‘harmless’ jokes, you’ve never understood why. They’re profilers, aren’t they? Can’t they tell it hurts his feelings?  And they love to tell you that Spencer’s your soft spot, he is, but he’s also a nice boy who wants to be listened to above all else, so you’re a little bitter about it. You weren’t too sweet to begin with. 
Today, you aren’t in the mood. You ignore Morgan and open your emails. 
“You want tea?” Spencer asks, standing from his desk. 
“No.”
“You always have tea in the morning. I’ll make it. Sit tight.” 
You follow Spencer’s figure as he leaves. Morgan wiggles his eyebrows at you from across the divider. 
“Do you ever think about taking him out?” Morgan asks. 
“That’s an inappropriate question,” you say. You aren’t monotone, but you certainly don’t bustle with emotion either.
“You like him, he likes you.” 
That’s exactly what Spencer needs, you think bitterly, the moody girlfriend, another thing to make him an outsider.
“You make each other happy,” Morgan continues.
“You get the same blueberry muffin every day,” you say, clicking an email attachment Hotch sent this morning distractedly, the temptation to roll your eyes at an all time high, “will you marry the baker?” 
“I could. His wife might not like the idea.” 
You hold in a smile. You sort of maybe do love Morgan, even when he’s prying. Better when Spencer returns and Morgan asks about the younger man’s weekend trip to Quantico’s seven floor library. 
“It was awesome,” Spencer says, putting a mug down in front of your keyboard, his palm still warm from the mug taking temporary station on your shoulder. “There were more books about inmate crime than there were dictionaries. Is that okay?” 
You take a sip of your tea. “It’s perfect,” you confess once you’ve swallowed. How does he know how you like it? He must steep it just as you do. Even the water level. You’d think it were the tea you’d left behind if it wasn’t in a new mug, scalding hot. 
“Morgan, could you excuse us, please? For five minutes?” Spencer asks. 
Your eyes widen of their own accord. Morgan makes flirty winky faces to hide his concern and meanders up the steps to Hotch’s office, pointedly looking away from the bullpen and your mess of desks. 
“What’s going on?” you ask. 
“I was hoping you’d tell me,” Spencer says. 
He’s wearing his glasses today, a rare sight these days, less so at the office when you’re sure there won’t be a case to go on. His hair curls at the base of his neck and flicks out under his ears, brown eyes like the flat of a mirror against the light, dark and deep. You wince when you realise you’ve been looking him over intensely, averting your eyes to the cup of tea warming your fingers. 
“You know you can tell me anything,” he says. 
“Sure.” 
“I’d defend you. Just like you would for me.” 
You drag your eyes to his. “I don’t know what you mean.” 
“I mean, if you want me to go fight your corner, I will.” 
“Who says I need that?” 
“It’s Madge, right? The blonde woman with the pearl earrings. She and Andrea monopolise the kitchen in the morning and talk about all of us.” 
You hate profilers, but you could never hate Spencer. You can’t find it in yourself to be upset that he’s worked out what perturbed you so quickly. 
You cross your arms over your chest, leaning back in your desk chair slowly. “There’s no point arguing with them, babe, you’d end up at Human Resources by the end of the day forced to write an apology letter.” 
Spencer looks like he wants to touch you again, hand heistant, fingers moving as though he’s typing curled into his palm. “I’ll stick up for you if you want me to. I don’t care if they make me write a letter.” 
“Can’t argue over silence,” you say.
It’s a kind offer, and he really is so handsome. Everybody else in the office might drive you up the wall but he’s a sweetheart, through and through. 
“I like when you smile. Doesn’t happen much,” he murmurs. 
If it were anyone else, you’d tell them to fuck off. “Thank you, Spencer. I like your smile too.” 
He leans down for a hug. Again, if it were anyone else, you’d wriggle out of reach and give a speech on boundaries, but it’s him. He folds his arms behind your head and back, encouraging your face into the crook of his neck as he bends to meet you, gentle even when you don’t hug him back. “Don’t listen to anybody,” he says, rubbing your shoulder with his thumb. 
“I don’t.” 
“Who cares if they’re talking about us?” Spencer asks. 
You touch his waist. “Not me.” 
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tteokdoroki · 6 months
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Thinking about the freshly corrupted priest Gojo pumping his dick in the confession booth while the sinful vixen sitting in the other cabin went from confessing her sins of corrupting one of the local fathers and having him cream down her throat to giving him instructions on how to handle his throbbing cock lovingly
Go faster now, father- squeeze the tip just a little bit...yes that's a good boy...now spit on it, make a mess of yourself and give everyone a show, all their eyes are peering down and up on you.
And with that, good morning aali my love <3
-glasses anon
☆༉ — SATORU GOJO. confessional.
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about. you confess your sins to father satoru, but with the lust bubbling between you both, things get a little carried away.
warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! nsfw, smut, sacrilege, religious imagery/references, guided masturbation, male masturbation, priest!gojo, fem!reader, wc: 1.6K.
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what good is a priest who can’t follow his own teachings? one that succumbs to the slightest hint of femme fatale? 
gojo thought himself a strong man. a good one. but once again, he’d found himself drinking from the devil’s cup offered up by a lost little angel who has strayed away from her path to light. 
“and i really didn’t mean to. father toji— i mean fushiguro— seemed so stressed! like he needed a helping hand.” you whimper unevenly from your side of the confessional booth. guilt buzzes in satoru’s veins as he imagines you teary eyed and distraught on the other side of the wall. the mere idea of you crying sends pleasure and lustful hormones shooting through his bloodstream and right down to his erection — the tip flushing a shameful shade of bright red.
you continue relentlessly, each word a breathless whisper laid over the swell of your sinful lips.“s-so i offered some relief in the only way i know how. i let him use my body, let him use my throat. he said it was okay…” but i just feel so wrong for corrupting him like that under the watchful eye of the lord. is it wrong that i liked it, father ‘toru. having that man’s cum pour down my throat?”
you’ve strayed too far away from the light and you’re pulling him into the darkness with you. 
“f-fuck.” 
“is something wrong father toru, your voice sounds rather strained.” by the tone of your own, he can just tell that you have your head cocked to the side innocently. perhaps your lip is caught daringly between your teeth — eyes gleaming with mischief while you mask your amusement at the damage you’ve caused. the young priest’s dick throbs against his inner thigh, smearing white along his baby soft skin. satoru grabs at his girth, squeezing it as if to stave off the pleasure that he should be disgusted by. 
clearing his throat, gojo internally curses as the words stick to its ridges — almost as if he doesn’t believe what comes out of his own mouth next. “i-i’m fine. have you prayed? i’m sure he would forgive you for your sins.” 
“i’ve been on my knees every night.” you mumble through a pout that he can’t see — earning another hiss from the priest while his angry red cockhead starts to bleed more arousal, forming a dark stain that seep’s through the fabric of his black slacks. “if you don’t mind me asking… does it hurt, father toru?” 
“does what hurt?” he exhales slowly, pearly white lashes fluttering against the apples of his cheeks. gojo, against his better judgments, pops the button of his pants to provide some relief to his aching cock. it doesn’t help at all. 
“your cock. father fushiguro felt the same after i confessed what i’d done with father getou.” 
shit. “yes… it does.” 
“i maybe be able to help.” your voice somehow sounds closer — as if you’re in the booth with him. “can you touch it… touch yourself for me, please?”
when you ask him so sweetly, how can father satoru say no? he follows your instructions like a man charmed by a succubus from the deep depths of hell. his whole body shudders and his breath stutters when he finally takes his forth between his king and slender fingers, squeezing at the base as precum beads like a rare oyster’s pearl in the centre of his slit. 
this is so wrong. “holy…holy shit,” but it already feels so good. gojo hisses, chest heaving as he instinctively bucks into his closed fist. it’s warm, sends shockwaves of pleasure down his spine to build in his pelvis while each vein that wraps prettily around his cock pulses with a new wave of lust laden blood. “what should i…?” he coughs shakily, hips slowly beginning to fuck upwards to chase the feeling of his palm. “what should i do now?” 
“spit on it, father.” you command him gently, blessing him with your praise where the higher being above might condemn him. “get it nice and wet for me, like i would, okay? squeeze the tip when you do—“ 
father ‘toru easily follows your word as if it reads passages from the bible. carefully, he leans forward — letting hot, gooey trails of spit dribble over his blistering and bright cockchead. his entire body twitches at the new sensation, which is surprisingly cool in comparison to how hot his body feels. sweat tracks it’s way down his body, soiling his hood robes and freshly pressed clothes. it makes his pure white locks stick to his forehead, and gathers on his cupid’s bow and it really is all too much. 
he feels like hell on earth. 
there’s a dull thud that echoes from satoru’s side of the booth, his head knocking against the wooden walls when it falls back. in the same breath, a loud and borderline pornographic moan rips it’s way through satoru’s firm chest — it battles through his lips (caught between sets of perfect white teeth), and reverberates throughout the confessional booth, no doubt catching the attention of people passing by.
“ohmygod,” comes his pathetic whimper while he clenches around himself once again, throat bobbing as he swallows down his sinful sounds. “why does that feel so fucking good? g-god, please!”
satoru’s fall from grace makes a sick smile spread across your lips and you cock your head to the side. you can only imagine what he looks like if this is how he sounds, his clothes a sweaty mess, his eyes delirious and darkened with ungodly and immoral desire. all this while he begs for god, begs for forgiveness, begs for you.
“you’re doing so well for me, ‘toru. can you go a little faster for me? now that it’s nice and wet.” the way his name falls gently from your tongue is like thick honey running through satoru’s ears — you drag a veil of lust over his mind and once again he follows your orders. he pumps himself faster, harder, precum slinging over the edge of his knuckles as they turn as white as his hair from the grip he has on himself. 
he can’t help but let his mind stray and wander off into  damned territory — chasing the vision that his clouded mind creates for him. would your cunt feel as good as this? wrap around him as tightly? a stream of unfiltered and colourful curses pour from gojo’s mouth in a similar manner to the arousal from his mushroomed tip, dripping a searing hot trail down to his throbbing balls.
lewd squelches slip through the cracks of the confessional booth and filter right through to you. satoru has no idea how pleased you are to have ruined him, how much you’ve longed to hear him mewl and sigh from touching himself against the will of god. “you sound so messy, ‘toru,” you moan out just to mock him a little — listening out for his strained and strangled whines, gargling down the saliva that pools on his tongue. “think you can make an even bigger mess for me, father? one that everyone will see. those above….” you purr, the tail end of your words harmonising with gojo’s hiccups. “and those below.” 
satoru is no better than a sinner come to spill their truths to him. sitting there with his painfully hard dick in his hands, fisting it to oblivion as opaque white stains his hands and his fingers and his knuckles. there’s so much of it, so much lust and precum and he hasn’t even reached his peak yet. everything is so fucking hot, his dick slick between his sticky thighs and all-too-tight robes. 
“almost there, satoru. i need you to let go for me.” 
your goading voice through the thick oak wall pushes satoru’s hips to canter up higher and higher. he wants to please you so bad that it hurts and makes him cry. he whispers your name into the buzzing air like it’s a prayer, chanting it over and over again until it becomes the only word he knows.
“fuck… i can’t—“ gojo sighs airily, his thighs shuddering as the knots in his stomach begin to unravel. “christ… I feel like ‘m gonna burst!” angelic blue eyes roll deep back into the man’s skull, disappearing from the world to hide from the atrocities he’s committed. 
“then let go, let it all out. you’ve done so well.” you say sweetly over the sound of gojo languidly jacking himself off. one, two and three more pumps before he’s releasing thick white ropes of cum over his robe and his chest — seeping into his clothes. 
gojo’s so fucking dizzy, cumming so hard that he sees bright lights and swears that he’s landed at the gates of heaven — though he’s sure his actions today would stop him from getting in. there’s a ringing in his ear as he comes back down but all of his limbs feel heavy, he’s too weak to move. 
“f-father satoru?” you whisper innocently, as if your very voice didn’t lead the man to death. “i think our time is up.” 
“yeah?” he mumbles in response, the words slipping around on his tongue. “i think… you did good today. you’ll have to come back again next week, to make another confession.” 
if only he could see your sick little smile, one might have thought you were the devil. who knows what’ll happen if you’re alone together in a confined space. “if that’s what you need from me, father.” you giggle slyly. “see you next week.” 
“see you next week.” gojo repeats.
and just like that, you’ve dragged the poor priest into the corrupted depths of hell.
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꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.
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runa-falls · 9 months
Text
something new
pairing: miguel o'hara x f!reader
rating: explicit (18+)
cw: smut, afab!reader, fluff :3, grinding/dry humping, pussy-job, creampie, 'outercourse', soft boyfriend!mig
w/c: ~2k
a/n: rewrite of my old fic bc i need it with miguel. if you read it before ignore it ;^) mig looks like this fanart by @xynnoix
----
You’re lounging on the sofa, legs resting in Miguel's lap and sitting in comfortable silence, when you decide to proposition him.
“I saw this video online and…I wanna try something with you.” He briefly looks up from his spider-pad, attention perked at your soft-spoken voice.
You beam at him from across the couch, an innocent smile slapped on your face as your lashes bat nicely against the tops of your cheeks.
Miguel simply shakes his head dismissively, “Cariño, we’re not doing any more MMA techniques.” He swiftly turns his attention back to his work, pointedly ignoring your childish pout. “You got hurt last time, remember?”
You let out an exaggerated sigh, “First, I didn’t even twist my ankle during the match! I literally slipped down the stairs when we left the training area. Secondly, that’s not even what I’m talking about!” 
“Ok, then what is it? WWE moves?” He asks teasingly, eyes still focused on the screen.
“Actually…I wanna try outercourse-- i-is that how you say it?” You talk about it so casually that he doesn't even realize what you’re saying until he plays it back in his head a few times. The finger that was working through several urgent emails slows down as you continue to ramble. 
“...Like pussy-jobs and grinding, I think. I don’t exactly know the technical terms that are involved, but it looked hot–” Your voice tapers off when you realize he’s looking at you.
His darkened gaze concentrates on your thighs that are unintentionally rubbing together as you recall your new interest. 
You know that look. His glaze-over eyes, furrowed brows, and tense body mean one thing: he’s interested too. 
Despite how worked up he is, Miguel manages to gently place his tablet on a side table before slowly wrapping his fingers around your ankles on his lap.
“So you want me to fuck you without actually fucking you?” 
“Y-yes...?”
He hums, turning his whole body to face you.
He fluidly pulls your body down to lay flat on the couch in front of him, barely leaving any room for him to sit. You feel his hand tap the side of your thigh.
“Open up for me, baby.”
Your loose shorts hike up your thighs as you obediently spread your legs for him, kneesbending to make space for him to scoot closer to you. The pale pink fabric displays a dark splotch over your center, evidence of your arousal and lack of underwear underneath. Miguel tauntingly raises an eyebrow when he notices.
“Aw, is your pussy already leaking for me?” Your breath stutters as he lightly glides his finger over your covered cunt.
“J-just a little.” Your thighs threaten to close when you feel him prod shallowly against your entrance. He groans, noticing how his movements encourage your slick to soak through the flimsy fabric of your shorts. 
You whine as you feel him pull away.
“Such a juicy slut for me.” He rasps, pushing himself closer to you so his head hangs over yours. Your head swims when you breathe in his comforting scent, he's so close, but you need him closer. Your body instinctively attempts to press up against him.
“Gimme a kiss, cariño.” 
You immediately obey, wrapping your arms around his neck and locking your legs over his waist, effectively pulling his warmth into your space. He leans in and gently brushes his lips against yours, taking time to breathe you in as your gaze locks with his. 
A breath is caught between you as you gaze into each other’s eyes, drinking each micro-expression on your face. Miguel lets out a soft sigh, "You're gorgeous."
And the intense mood breaks. 
You pull away to lightly giggle into his chest, a soft blush blooming from the edge of your neck to the tops of your cheeks. He matches your smile, watching with amused eyes as you react to his flattery.
Somehow he can still make you feel unbearably giddy despite the months you’ve been dating. 
You look back up with a crooked smile, “You’re pretty too, Spider-Man.” 
Miguel dips his head in and captures your lips in his. He’s gentle at first, slowly savoring your lips with small nips and caresses. He runs the tip of his tongue over the edge of your bottom lip, trailing a line over the sensitive skin, then pushing further against your mouth.
You whine when he licks into your mouth, coaxing your tongue to mingle with him, to taste your mixed flavor of lust.
Your back arches when he presses a finger flush against your throbbing clit. it simultaneously sends warm ecstasy down your legs and up your spine, and you can feel your center pulsing, craving more. 
Miguel leaves your mouth as he moves further up the couch to fit himself between your thighs. His forearms support his weight next to your shoulders as he gently lets his hips rest against yours. You can already feel his stiff cock twitching persistently between your bodies.
“Is this okay?” He asks, voice husky as he considers you under him.
Your eyes blearily blink up at him before you give him a shy nod, already looking thoroughly fucked out with your mussed hair and pink lips. He experimentally pushes down against you and starts to grind himself into your body with controlled strokes. 
The rough texture of his jeans digs deliciously into your softness, barely subdued by the thin fabric of your shorts. Pleasure zips up your spine as he involuntarily ruts against your clit with each shove of his hips. You nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck, attempting to smother your cries into his skin.
“This what you wanted?” He growls, body hot and heavy against yours. 
You feel yourself grow infinitely wetter, warmth spreading over your inner thighs. You whine as he twitches against you, your body hypersensitive to everything around you.
“Mm, fuck.” He feels your slick slowly travel through the thickness of his jeans. 
He can barely hear your wrecked voice over the sound of his jeans rubbing over you and the couch rocking against the wooden floors.
“Wait.” 
His hips stutter to a stop, “Wait?” Miguel's eyes look worried as he searches your face, wondering if something went wrong.
“I-I just want more.” You bite your lip nervously as you stare back at him, feeling guilty that you scared him.
The tension in his body slacks quickly, like cool water rushing down his back. “More?”
You nod sheepishly, “Uh-huh.” 
He climbs off of you and kneels on the floor to your side, “Ok, can you show me?” His voice is soft and patient as he speaks to you.
He watches as you shove your hips upwards to tug off your shorts before throwing them to the side. You do the same with your tank top, then settle back into the couch cushions.
Your legs squeeze together as your sensitive nipples tighten when exposed to the cool air. You look over at Miguel who’s admiring your bare body next to you, “You too.” He immediately pulls off his shirt and shoves down his jeans before rejoining you. 
Miguel kneels on the couch and pushes your legs up to reveal your dripping pussy, leaking messily from your rutting session a few minutes ago. He slaps himself over your warmth, spreading your slick over your cunt and watching it drip down to your ass.
“Such a pretty pussy.”
Before you know what’s happening, he positions himself against your entrance and tries to push into your cunt, tip slowly slipping into you with ease. He groans as your cunt instinctively sucks him in, walls fluttering as he begins to stretch you. 
 “No–wait, that’s not what we’re doing!” You simultaneously scoot away and squeeze your legs together once you catch on to what’s happening. 
“What-”
“Outside, Mig, remember? Only outside.” You push up and lean against the couch arm, hair poofed adorably around you. “Here, I’ll show you. Lay down where I was.” You direct, moving off the couch to give him enough room.
“Okay.” He takes your place, cock bobbing with his movements as it stays desperately hard for you. You bite your lip as your eyes trace the happy trail that graces his lower stomach. God, he's delicious.
You straddle yourself over his hips, admiring how delectable he looks below you, hot and ready for you to climb on. He watches you with anticipation as you position yourself his erection that rests against his stomach. 
His breath hitches when you sit your full weight onto him, the pressure makes him throb against the seam of your cunt. You experimentally rub yourself against the silken skin of his cock, barely holding yourself up on your knees to make it easier to move. He groans as you spread your warmth over his cock and the bottom of his muscled torso. 
“So wet for me, baby.” He looks up at you with heavy eyes, his top lip barely covering his protruded fangs. His hand squeezes the top of your thigh when you lock eyes.
A small piece of your hair sways over his forehead with each movement of your hips. As you grind over him, the head of his cock nudges delectably against your clit causing you to clench around nothing every time it hits you.
You pathetically puff out breaths as your stomach tightens in heat, eyes already threatening to roll to the back of your head. Lewd wet sounds lick between your bodies as you fluidly slick yourself against him.
Your thighs shake as you get closer to the edge, hips slowing down as the white-hot pleasure ripples through your body. Miguel licks his lips and takes initiative, canting his hips upwards in sync with yours, slipping himself more firmly against you.
He pulls your arms off of his chest and gathers them behind your back. Your spine arches prettily for him, ass stuck out behind you. In this position, you’re forced to surrender yourself to every push of his hips and slip of his cock.
It’s electrifying. You cry out when your orgasm pulls you under its firey wave. Your thighs clench around his hips as your body trembles above him. The sparks refused to flicker off as Miguel continues to rut against you, body tenses as he meets his end as well.
He thrusts one final glide of his cock through the soaked petals of your cunt before abruptly pushing into you, overwhelming your senses with the painfully exquisite sensation of being stretched all at once.
He growls as your warmth wraps around him, fluttering prettily as he shoves himself deep inside.
He stutters inside of you, pushing himself incredibly deep inside of you as he cums and cums, filling you to the brim. A satisfying warmth pools at the bottom of your stomach as he paints your walls, soothing your weak body as it recovers from your orgasm.
You collapse onto Miguel's body, ignoring how unbearably hot it is as your bodies try to cool down. His heart beats heavily next to yours and everything slows down. He hums under you, gently stroking a hand against your back .
You don’t know how long you lay there, enjoying each other’s company, but you're half awake by the time Miguel gets up, with you, boneless, in his arms. 
“How does a bath sound, mi vida?” You lazily look up at him as he carries you to the bathroom with ease. His voice is still so...sultry.
“Am just I weak or something?” Your voice rasps harshly, “How are you not fighting the urge to pass out right now?”
He nuzzles his face into your body, pecking a kiss against your sweat-stick throat. “I could actually go again if you'd like..."
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norrizzandpia · 2 months
Note
bff reader x lando where they’re at a party maybs in monaco? pool party and stuff and the night gets messy but lando and reader stays out in the pool till late,and he becomes all clingy bc it’s getting cold and he likes reader 🥹 coz i’m a sucker for bff x lando aswell as cute smutty jealous lando,idk if you’ll be able to make something out of this but thank uuuu ☺️ xoxo
I love a good best friends to lovers
His (LN4)
Summary: When a fun pool party turns into a hurtful disaster, the only good thing to come from it is two confessions.
Warnings: wandering hands 😏, y/n’s ex, slightly jealous Lando, PROTECTIVE lando, the use of “whore” (not in an attractive way) language, major fluff at the end like i was blushing at my own writing
Note: I THINK I LOVE THIS ONE GUYS
To be honest, nobody told Y/n that her ex, David, was on the invite list. As she stood next to Max, him a rambling and blushing mess over Pietra - who was laughing with her friends in the cutest bikini across the way, Y/n tried to convince herself that her eyes were lying. There was no way in hell David was walking through the door to the backyard of whosever house Lando had dragged her to. There was no way in hell David was making eye contact with her, a sickening smile on his face as her presence greeted him. There was no way in hell David was walking toward her.
No way in hell.
Except, there was!
David’s hand squeezed the flesh of her arm as he grinned down at her, “Y/n! What’re you doing here?”
She blinked a few times, her fingers slightly denting the plastic of her cup as his sliminess seeped into her skin, “David! Lando brought me here. What about you?”
The problem with David was that he was always intimidated by Lando. Whether that was because Lando had a bigger build and had a few inches on him or because of the fact that Lando was more successful, she never could tell. However, all she knew was that one of the reasons they broke up was because of his continuous insecurity that controlled their fights over Lando. No matter how many times she reassured him or told him Lando was just a friend, David would never relent. In his mind, Lando and her were basically fucking on the side.
His eyes turned a darker shade, “Lando’s here?”
She nodded, “Yes, he got invited and had a plus one.”
David scoffed, “Oh, and you’re the plus one, I suppose.”
“Yes, she is.” Lando’s voice interrupted the conversation. His body stuck to Y/n’s side like glue, his hand around her waist, as he stared the man down. Another problem with their previous relationship - Lando and David hated each other. At first, Lando had kept an open mind to his best friend’s boyfriend, albeit he was a little standoffish, but the moment Y/n started to show up at his door - sobbing - in the middle of the night because of some bullshit David had said during a fight, Lando was immediately turned off.
Lando was always protective over the people he loved, attentive and caring to its fullest potential. But, with Y/n, there had always been an inherent need to be there for her through everything from the moment he met her. The way he was with her stood out among the rest. They could try and explain the deep connection away with certain things they shared in common, they had tried, but everybody knew.
David’s chest puffed up higher, not enough to scare Lando though, “Lando.”
Each syllable drenched in a need to exert dominance, David’s words made the McLaren Driver glance down at the girl tucked under his arm. His eyes, the ones she could always read, asked for her to trust him. She always would. She smiled back at him.
With the reassurance, Lando’s hand came to rest dangerously low on her back, “Is there anything more you need to say to my girlfriend?”
She did trust him, just didn’t expect that to come out of his mouth. Her fingers almost ripped through the cup in her hands as her firm hold continued.
David’s eyes bulged, “Girlfriend?!”
From some place deep within herself, one she had never met before, Y/n nodded feverishly, “Yeah, we got together a few months ago.”
Lando’s body leaned into her and it all began to feel… comfortable. They would never address it, but there was always some sort of unspeakable tension between them that made hangouts and interactions a bit intense and awkward, too much for people who were supposed to be the closest of friends. For once, as their hands were allowed to sit nicely on places they had been too aware of every time they touched each other, that sense of heightened uncertainty was completely gone.
Replaced was warm palms.
A soft smile plastered on Lando’s face was quickly gone the moment David laughed, “Oh, I saw this coming for ages.” His gaze, dangerous and angry, shifted to Y/n and Lando almost moved his entire body in front of her. Honestly, he wished he had as David mumbled in her direction, “Whore.”
Max, sipping on his drink off to the side, choked as he watched Lando’s entire body tense up. His arm, that was once wrapped around his “girlfriend”, very quickly came to clutch the man’s shirt, shoving him harshly.
“What’d you say?!” Lando said, right in his face as Pietra came to pull Y/n away. The two girls held hands tightly as the entire party’s attention was turned toward the spectacle that was Y/n’s ex-boyfriend and her speculated new one.
David’s face went pale, “Nothing.”
Lando pushed him away once more, slapping his chest harshly before pointing a finger in his face, “Say that about her again and I will make your life a living hell, I swear to God.”
David coughed out an apology to which Lando spit on his shoes and said, “Say it to her not me, dick.”
Her eyes caught his as he stuttered it out, pure fear etched into them - something she had never seen before. He was always eager to make her feel scared during an argument. It was weird to see him in the same position he had put her in multiple times before.
When he stumbled away, out the same door he had come from twenty minutes before, Lando stopped being concerned with the cameras around him, waltzing right up to his Y/n and holding her head in his hands. He whispered, “You good?”
She nodded, leaning into his hands as he began to lead her into the house. She knew it was his friend’s house, but she didn’t expect for him to know the complete layout of it when he brought her to the kitchen so effortlessly.
She looked around, “I’m not hungry.”
He nodded, shrugged, “I know, but I thought we could hide out in here while everyone filters out.”
Her head peeked around the corner and, sure enough, the guests who were once lingering around the pool in the back were now scurrying through the door.
Lando chuckled, “Guess David’s a downer.”
An hour later, dinner ingested and everybody gone, Y/n found herself back in the backyard. Her body laid against the concrete of the pool as she stared at the place where David had been, calling her names, an hour and a half before. It hurt to think about, wonder if that’s what he had genuinely thought of her throughout their relationship. Nobody knew that it all got to her, the comments under Lando’s posts about her being something entertaining for him and the others on Twitter talking about the same things David had muttered before, but it did. No matter how much she tried to make it seem as though she knew those claims were ridiculous, a part of her did, she had gradually begun to internalize it all, creating a deep sore spot.
Nobody knew.
Well, except for him.
Lando’s footsteps pattered against the cold ground before they begun splashing around as he submerged himself in the water. She turned around to see him, one arm hanging on to the edge of the pool while the other wadded in the water. He smiled at her as he begun swimming toward her, coming to rest skin-to-skin right next to her.
He looked on at the spot she was so infatuated with before whispering, “You know what he said was completely wrong, right?”
All she could do was nod, her voice would not be convincing. She knew that. Lando knew that and that’s why his arm creeped around her torso, holding her close.
His mouth was right next to her ear, “It’s not true, Y/n.”
There was a deep sincerity in his words that hit her heart hard, prompting her fingers to trail up his arm before clutching his shoulder. Her head turned, their faces inches apart, and she smiled, “Thank you.”
His body fell further into the water as he let go of the edge, pulling her flush against him right after. He was gentle in his touches as he guided her legs to wrap around him, continuing to hold her waist as her arms wrapped around his neck. A dark, starry sky above them illuminated the twinkle in Lando’s eye. One Y/n found hard to explain away.
He pushed the wet hair out of her face, “He didn’t know what he had.”
Her fingers traced and memorized the sharpness of his cheekbones, “Are you saying you do?”
Her question, however bold, opened their friendship up. For once, one of them was giving the other the opportunity to confess whatever had manifested throughout the time they’d spent together.
She could see it in his eyes, the hesitation and fear in moving into that space with her. Sure, they had been uncomfortable together before, but this was different. This was an opening for something that could make or break them.
This was life or death to Lando.
Though, by the way she smiled at him, he knew he would be stupid, wrong her like David had, if he continued to sweep it all under the rug, “Yes.”
Her hands stopped moving about his face, instead cradling it, “What does that mean, Lan?”
Her question made his heart stop, the moment it all came down to, “Y/n, I hated seeing you with him. I hated seeing you with all of them. I couldn’t stand to see you hanging onto someone else’s arm. It made my skin crawl. And, today, when I got to be the guy that had you under his arm, especially when I got to look your satanic ex-boyfriend in the eye and tell him you were mine, nothing felt better than that. I’ve always known what I had when it came to you. I just wish you would let me show that.”
Her hands tangled in his hair as he continued to hold her, his feet stabilizing them as he stood in the pool. She exhaled a breath, took a moment to think, before leaning closer, “I never said you couldn’t.”
Even in the cold of the night, his face warmed with a tinge of redness. He squeezed her lightly, allowing a moment of silence to pass as they looked at each other before whispering back, “It’s chilly out here.”
Her giggling warmed his body, “Lan, what does that have to do with any of this?”
His hand moved delicately up her back before resting on the nape of her neck, pulling her lips closer, “I’m thinking a kiss or two might warm us up.”
She smiled again and her thumb rubbed against his jawline, “Oh, I got it. I love that idea.”
Max and Pietra watched from the living room, hearing Lando laugh before the two were kissing in the soft light of the backyard. The couple rejoiced on the couch, jumping and down with no regard for Max and Lando’s friend yelling at them to get down. However, once he looked to see what they were screaming about, he joined them too. It felt like everyone had been waiting for this moment. The moment when Y/n and Lando realized that their friendship was never just that and the love they had for each other was never just love. It was something completely indescribable, but as long as the whispers of love they shared between kisses in that pool continued, that would feel like enough.
It sure as hell was more than enough for the smiling, blushing idiot of a Brit who was kicking himself for not telling his Y/n just how much of his she really had been all along.
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hannieehaee · 4 months
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Hi! I love your work I was hoping I could request something? this may be a little nsfw but I was wondering how SVT would react to having a girlfriend who likes to cockwarm them? like even after they’re done she just wants them to stay inside her like she could literally go to sleep like that. I just think it’d be interesting! you don’t have to do it though!
18+ / mdi
reaction to you liking to cockwarm them
content: afab reader, smut, cockwarming, mentions of riding, etc.
wc: 966
a/n: thank u for requesting!! i hope i did this justice <3
masterlist
seungcheol -
this wouldve become a common occurrence during his hiatus from seventeen. due to his injury, you'd have to ride him whenever the two of you wanted to have sex. at some point he wouldve dragged you back down as you moved to slip him out of you, pleading with his eyes to stay around him. would probably be unable to control himself and eventually try to fuck into you, not caring for the pain he'd bring himself.
jeonghan -
smirks to himself any time you whine at him when he goes to slip out of you after you're both done. the moment you showed any indication that you wanted to cockwarm him, he'd to squeeze your hips and feel up your ass and back rather than remove you. would entice you into another round after some time, hoping to create a vicious cycle in which he fucked you and you cockwarmed him, only for him to fuck you again.
joshua -
he'd wanna take care of you in any and every way, so if you were too sleepy after sex to get up from his cock, that simply meant you'd be going to sleep with his cock still buried deep inside you. it was a win-win situation for joshua. he'd have a restful sleep with the prettiest girl he'd ever held in his arms, and he'd probably get to fuck you just as the two of you woke up. there were no bad sides to the situation.
jun -
a little caught off guard the moment you simply pressed down against him after both your orgasms had subsided. regardless, he would understand you might be tired and just hold you as the two of you fell asleep. the next morning it would click that you'd slept literally wrapped around each other all through the night. that might've been one of his best sleeps ever, making him want to do it again and again.
soonyoung -
practically becomes hypnotized the moment you bring up cockwarming, now obsessed with the idea. he'd be so giddy every single time the two of you had sex right before going to bed, knowing he'd get to go to sleep while your arms held onto him and your pussy held onto his dick just as tightly. this would become his new favorite act of intimacy to do with you.
wonwoo -
would naturally happen one day in which you rode him while he was gaming. you'd both finish and you'd simply fall limp against him. after a few moments of no movement, he'd ask if you wanted to just stay sitting on his dick (not complaining! just wondering, he'd clarify). after your tired affirmation, he would smile and hold you closer, continuing to game but caressing your back every so often, adoring the intimacy of the situation.
jihoon -
it kills him every time you insist on letting him stay inside, face scrunching up in pleasure at the feeling of your warmth wrapped around him in such an intimate way. would insist that you can only do it for a little bit, knowing he'd probably cum the moment he grew hard again.
dokyeom -
would reluctantly agree, wanting nothing more than to be as close to you as possible, but knowing your cunt would overpower his senses at some point, which would probably make him beg you to fuck him in the middle of the night. the obvious would end up happening, making you ride him in the early hours of the am, only to cockwarm him again all the way into the morning.
mingyu -
he'd nod in agreement so fast his neck would hurt. holding you in his arms after sex? hell yes. being inside you as he held you in his arms as you fell asleep? nothing sounded better to him. would probably underestimate how pussydrunk he could get and beg to fuck you halfway through the night and then proceed to fall asleep buried deep inside you, only to fuck you again in the morning.
minghao -
he'd be a lil flustered at the bold way in which you simply tightened around him the moment he tried to slip out, wordlessly allowing you to lean against him as he stayed buried in you. would easily fall into the habit of you cockwarming him, now looking forward to that part of the day every single day. would feel most relaxed in those moments, feeling a level of intimacy with you he had never before.
vernon -
he'd insist you cockwarm him. after cumming you'd both probably be super spent and wanna rest, so he'd ask if it was okay for him to just stay in your cunt as the two of you cuddled and eventually fell asleep. this would prove to be a bit of a challenge, as the pulsing of your cunt and softness of your walls would probably take him a bit to get used to.
seungkwan -
he would also fall asleep right after sex, only waking up a few hours later to realize you were still wrapped around him as the two of you cuddled. his heart would swell at the warmth he felt both from your embrace and the tightness around him. he'd want this again and again, wordlessly begging you day after day to please give him your warmth as he slept.
chan -
he'd thank god under his breath as soon as you brought it up to him. he'd have wanted to try it out, knowing how warm and cozy it'd be to have you wrapped around him as he held you in his sleep, but he wasnt sure if you'd be into it. would probably underestimate how good itd feel, making him not realize how hard it was going to be to not fuck into you as you slept in his arms.
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