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alastor-simp · 3 months

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Sensitive Soul😔 - Alastor x Reader

Requested by @ju1yyyzzz

The Hazbin gang were all lounging around the lobby, minding their own business. Charlie was reading a story book, definitely romance. Vaggie had her spear in her hand, practicing her moves. Sir Pentious was observing her. Apparently Vaggie wanted to teach him some physical combat, since he relied too much on his gadgets and egg minions. He was sloppy, but he had a lot of confidence, which Vaggie respected. Angel dust was chatting away at the bar with Husk. Their relationship had improved a lot, leaving you feeling very happy to the point you cried. Zooming sounds were happening all across the room. It was Niffty, chasing after the insects with a knitting needle. The look in her eye was crazy and glad she was aiming it towards the bugs, and not you. Alastor was relaxing against a chair, legs crossed while sipping from a coffee mug. The hotel radio was playing a broadcast from the human world. The fact that it could pick up stations from the living world was insane. Must have been Alastor's doing since he always looking for more entertainment.

The phone in your hand was your source of entertainment for the time being, as you kept flipping through Sinstagram. Static emanated from the radio, beginning to play a broadcast in regards to some sort of pandemic happening on earth. The grin radiating on Alastor's face was nerve wracking, as he continued to listen in on it. "HAHA! How utterly entertaning! Makes me remember the good old days during the Great Depression! So many orphans!" It felt like you had been punched in the stomach. 'How could he find that entertaining'. Your thoughts were becoming depressing, and tears began to appear in your eyes. Charlie took a break from her book, and looked up, noticing your sad expression. "Y/N, Why are you crying?" Realization hit you as you touched your cheek and felt wetness. The room got quiet, everyone gazing at you with concerned looks including Alastor. "I-I'm I-. I need to be excused." Jumping from where you were sitting, you rushed out of the room, leaving everyone confused. Angel was the first to speak up: "What the f✪✪✪ was that about?"

Charlie felt the need to comfort you, but she concluded that your probably needed a minute to calm down. She looked around the room, observing everyone. "Did any of you say anything to them?" Everyone shrugged their shoulders, stumped. Niffty zoomed next to Charlie, wanting to tell her something. "She started to cry when Alastor was laughing about something on the radio." Eyes all turned to Al. Alastor still had a smile on his face, but mentally he was riddled with confusion. "I was only reminiscing about the past! My words did not bare any insults towards them!" A spear was drawn at his face, causing him to arch an eyebrow. Ohh how scary he thought. Vaggie was fuming, nearly about to strike Alastor. "Whatever you said apparently made them upset! Now go and check on them, bastardo!" The air grew ominous, as Alastor powers began to expand, clouding the room with black mist. The smile on his face began to grow monstrous, as his eyes turned into radio dials. "Now Vaggie! There is no need for threats! But I advise that you lower your w̶͈̒͜è̶̫̤͖̃̀̔̋́a̴̝̮̾̽̋̌̈́̎̍p̵̳̟̩͈̬̹͓̔̀͌ó̸̟̃ṇ̵̹̻̽̉ ̶̩̞͓̃̓͌̈́ȍ̷̬ṛ̸̨̡͈̹́͜ ̵̡͈̰͎́̚ḛ̴̞̯̭̥͊̅̇̃̎̆l̵̖̔͑͆̿s̸̙̐̌̐̆̓͠è̵̛̻͑̓̊͠!" Charlie jumped between the both of them, wanting to appease the situation. "Vaggie Stop!" Charlie words reached her girlfriend, causing the spear to be lowered, as she crossed her arms. Charlie then looked at Alastor, who had managed to calm down slightly, yet the air was still tense. "Alastor. Could you please check on Y/N?" A shook of his head, brought him back to normal, as he stood up from the couch. "All right!" The staff in his hand at appeared, giving it a twirl before he stood up from the couch, walking away with his hands behind his back.

"Now where could the little darling have gone?" Alastor announced to himself, as he ventured down the hallways. His first place to look would be your room. Giving a rhythmic tap on the door, he waited for you to open the door. His ears twitched, trying to pinpoint any sounds from the other side, but heard none. "Hmm. Not here." Alastor continued to look for you. The last place to look was the hotel garden. It needed a lot of weeding and pruning when he first arrived at the Hotel. Niffty and you were able to fix it right up, planting certain hellflowers and fruits and vegetables. Sounds of sniffling reached Alastor's ears, "Ah so you were here!" he thought. He found on curled on the ground, laying on the concrete ground, admiring the flowers. His eyes noticed the tear streaks that were still prominent on your cheeks. Turning your head around, you saw Alastor standing next to you, before looking away. "Why the long face my dear?" Alastor chortled to himself, while you remained silent. Your lack of silence bothered Al. He still couldn't piece together why you were crying in the lobby? He snapped his fingers, causing a cushion to appear on the ground. He didn't want to dirty his pants. Plopping down, he continued to look at you. His smile stayed the same, but his eyes were looking at you with slight concern.

"My dear, what has you so upset? Was it something I did in the lobby that bothered you?" He patiently waited for your answer. Wiping your tears with your sleeve, you turned your head towards him. "You didn't do anything Al. It was the topic you brought up that got to me!" Cocking his head, he pondered what you said. A lightbulb flashed in his head. "Ahh yes! The great depression!" His smile became giddy. His entertainment for misery was appearing again. "Yes. I know to you it was highly entertaining, but to others it wasn't. It just made be think about all the hard-times during that time, and the orphans and what-not. I know its stupid to cry over something like that, but certain things or topics I'm very sensitive too. Often times it results in my breaking down in tears like you just saw." Alastor continued to stare at you, while you talked. He was relieved he didn't cause something directly to upset you, but it did stun him a a bit at your reasoning. His years being a radio host/serial killer harden him, to the point certain depressing topics became utter joy for him. It gave him a bit of realization that subjects like this were very bothersome to others, including you. "I apologized if I worried you and the others. Just didn't want to cry in front of all of you over something stupid. Wish I wasn't such a cry-baby." Casting your eyes down, you gazed at ground.

A fluffy material touched your cheek, causing you to jump. Looking at Al, he was cleaning your face with a handkerchief. His signature smile, had dropped. It wasn't a frown, but he was a full on smile either. More of a slight grin. "Y/N, there is nothing wrong with crying over stuff like this. My time in Hell has made me immune to depressing topics. This doesn't make you a cry-baby, it just means that you have a pure soul. You care about the well being of others greatly, to the point of tears. It is quite alright my dear, and I would like to give a proper apology to you." His words were insanely sweet. More tears began to pour out your eyes, shocking Alastor even more.

"My dear?! What did I say? Why are the tears still coming from your eyes?" His actions were frantic, as he continued to wipe the tears from your eyes. The tears still flowed, but a smile was on your face. "Hehe, I'm sorry. Your words were very sweet and just made me very happy that I wanted to cry." Alastor gave a chuckle as well, shaking his head. "My my what a strange demon you were. Still, you were very adorable." He thought to himself. Soon the handkerchief had removed all of the tears that were flowing down. The signature grin he wore returned, as he got up from his position, snapping the cushion away. His hand extended out to you, allowing you to grab it. Being pulled up, you got up off the ground, and stood in front of Alastor. His other hand was placed on your cheek, giving it a stroke before returning back to him. "Shall we head back my dear? The others must be getting worried!" He smiled down at you, to which you responded back with a nod, as the both of you walked together out of the garden to rejoin the others.

~END~

*Tagging*

@pepperycookie , @yourdoorisunlocked, @ghostdoodlen , @aceofcards0-0 , @jyoongim , @saturnhas82moons , @unholycheesesnack, @luujjvi, @forbidden-sunlight , @pinkcrystal44 , @veethewriter , @rains-sleeping , @danveration , @demoarah , @cookiekyo , @iiotic , @delectableworm , @91062854-ka , @alastorsgoldie

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fengkye · 4 months

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hcs for sasuke with a softie reader?

A/N: omgee hihi!! Thanks so much for requesting!! I’ll try my best!!

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𝙎𝙖𝙨𝙪𝙠𝙚 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙖 𝙨𝙝𝙮/𝙨𝙚𝙣𝙨𝙞𝙩𝙞𝙫𝙚 S/O!

🍙⋆ ★ When it was just the mists of the relationship, he would probably be a bit nervous and hesitant at first--y'know, with the trust issues and stuff

🍙⋆ ★ Because of this, he would probably try to be on his guard at all times around you 🍙⋆ ★ Not because he doesn't trust you, he was observing you 🍙⋆ ★ If you hated something, if you liked something, habits, so forth. Sasuke would probably be nerve racked to the point where it drives him to thinking that he HAS to understand his partner. (poor baby) 🍙⋆ ★ He would be tense a lot, his body stiff, he tries to tell himself to relax and all. Because it's just his s/o, he shouldn't be afraid. He loves them. But at the same time, he feels a little afraid when you sometimes pull back from simple things like cuddling or holding hands. 🍙⋆ ★ It made him ponder a lot about you too, since both of you seemed to be in somewhat a struggle at the same time--it got kinda awkward. And Sasuke thought all the time, maybe it was his fault? 🍙⋆ ★ So he would try to dig deeper, simple things like him subconsciously placing his hand on your thigh, resting it there and his thumb gently stroking it idly sometimes--it all becomes into kind of an 'experiment' to see how you react. But again, he sees squirming and you fidgeting, trying to move away or something. 🍙⋆ ★ Of course, he gets worried. Was it his fault you were acting like this? Did he do something wrong? Did he understand you wrong?

🍙⋆ ★ He took your habits into a closer look, fidgeting whenever he was around, sometimes your words would slur or stutter and how you always had a small solemn look on your face--it broke his heart.

🍙⋆ ★ So he pulled you aside one day, looking into your e/c eyes with him saying that he just wanted to talk. You, of course, got instantly scared.

🍙⋆ ★ "I..." His dark onyx coated eyes narrowed, his nose scrunched up a little--it seemed to always do that when he was frustrated. Eyebrows furrowed, as he tried to word this correctly. Especially to try and not scare you anymore.

🍙⋆ ★ "I know I'm not good with...Y'know, dating and all this stuff." He swallowed afterwards, lips pressing together into a thin line as he stared down at you. 🍙⋆ ★ "But I just wanted to let you know...I'm always going to be here for you, even if I'm not..." He mentioned his missions and all, feeling his throat tighten even more with the struggle to speak. 🍙⋆ ★ "I won't judge you... I know sometimes I'm mean, and I'm always so stern...I worry about you.." 🍙⋆ ★ "I don't want to scare you.." He let the words linger in the tense air for a moment, as he placed his hands on your shoulders in an attempt to try and ease you up. 🍙⋆ ★ That was when you broke, you caved in, told him the best you could--It wasn't his fault at all. It was just that you had trouble with your feelings and all. How you found it hard expressing love, even mixing in a handful of apologies to go along with your guilt for troubling the Uchiha so much. 🍙⋆ ★ He listened, listened to every word, even repeated them in his head for future use, to make sure he would remember. And that he would never forget. 🍙⋆ ★ He nodded, letting you know that he was listening. Even taking your hands, stroking them languidly with his calloused thumb. 🍙⋆ ★ He full-heartedly understood. Even giving some insight on how he could 'be better' and try to make you comfortable. 🍙⋆ ★ From that point on, Sasuke slowed down his touches, tried to be more open minded about his words, and even tried to lower his tone to a softer if he could manage. Luckily, you appreciated it greatly that sometimes--even if it was a little awkward--he would ask for permission to touch you. 🍙⋆ ★ Soon enough, once you were okay with touches to an extent, he would try to do simple things like holding your hand, stroking your head, and holding your waist without having to ask. 🍙⋆ ★ He was satisfied and proud that the both of you got to talk, and when you started being comfortable to be a little more vocal with your wants and requests for the Uchiha, he would immediately drop whatever he had in his hands and rush to help you. 🍙⋆ ★ Safe to say, Sasuke would gladly fist fight and literally body slam anyone who disrespects you in any way--even if you didn't feel hurt by it. He would loom behind you, giving that person his iconic death stare to let them know that if they slipped up even once, they would be saying their prayers. ——————————————————-

#sasuke uchiha #uchiha sasuke #sasuke x reader #shy reader #sensitive reader #fengkye #sasuke hcs #naruto hcs #uchiha x reader

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msgexymunson · 2 years

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Overwhelmed Pt 2

Soft!Dom!Eddie x Sensitive!Virgin!Fem!Reader

Description: your relationship with Eddie is fresh, but when you find out he will take care of you and make you feel safe, you feel like you can take the next step with him.

Part 2 of Overwhelmed. part 1 here

Warnings: NSFW, (minors DNI or I'll poke you with my pitchfork) Hella fluff, touch of angst, loads of smut, reader uses she/her pronouns, pet names (sweetheart, princess etc) slight panic attack/over stimulation, 1 use of y/n, f!fingering, m!handjob, slight spit play, p in v protected sex, loss of reader virginity.

A/N: ahhh this is so cute! it was hard to write but I hope it came out as good as it is in my head, really want it to stand up to the original fic. As usual I'm English so soz for any weird American stuff, I try! Comments and reblogs are very much appreciated.

Masterlist

5.2k words

Sunlight streams into the room through the makeshift red curtains casting an orange glow. A yellow ray pierces the centre, a travelling shaft of light highlighting the swirling dust in the air. This sliver of sun appears to be your reason for waking, shining into your eyes.

Scrunching your face at the invading brightness, you take in your surroundings. Still in the messy, boyish bedroom, posters adorning every available wall space. Bed covers sprawled haphazardly over the both of you. You remain where you went to sleep, head on Eddie's chest, arm draped across him. You can feel the peaceful, up and down, gentle movement of his breathing. Both of his arms were wrapped around you tightly, as if he was afraid you'd flee in the dead of night.

His face looks so serene and untroubled. You trace the line of his jaw with your eyes, looking at his cheekbones, the slope of his nose, how his messy hair falls around his face, framing it. He looks like an angel.

Pressing kisses to his chest, on top of his tattoo, you feel like the luckiest girl in the world. Eddie's nose wrinkles adorably at your attention, and finally his eyes open.

"Mornin' beautiful." His voice was cracked, deep and groggy from sleep.

"Hey handsome." You smile up at him.

Kissing you on the forehead and grinning against you, he can't seem to help saying, "you stayed."

"You asked me to." You poke him teasingly.

"Well I'm glad you did' he said, pulling you in for an even tighter embrace.

"I can't stay much longer. If my parents get home and I'm not there they'll freak."

Eddie pouts, stroking your arm. "Can you stay long enough for me to make you breakfast?"

"Are you offering to cook for me Eddie Munson?" You stare at him incredulously.

"Does heating frozen waffles count?"

"Sounds great," you giggle, pulling him in for a kiss.

Pretty soon you were both sitting at the table, eating waffles and maple syrup. Eddie wearing sweats, you in your skirt and flannel shirt (and no underwear since he still refused to give them back.)

You had been worried that after last night something would change between you. Maybe he wouldn't like you as much, or it would be awkward. Seems like you were right; something had changed. You both couldn't stop stealing glances at each other and smiling. God, you were smiling so much your face hurt. Everything seemed natural, easy.

The front door flew open, startling you.

"Oh hey Wayne, this is y/n. My girlfriend." He beamed, clearly pleased as punch at being able to say that "Sweetheart, this my uncle Wayne."

"Oh," he said, "good morning miss, feel like I know you already, Eddie won't shut up about you."

You blush and hold out your hand. "Pleasure to meet you Mr Munson."

Wayne looks over your shoulder at Eddie "you could teach my nephew some manners." He grabs your hand. "Pleasure to meet you too." Giving you a firm hand shake.

"No, if y'all'd excuse me, imma take a shower and head to bed. Long night." And he heads off to the bathroom.

You turn to face Eddie. "So, been talking about me, huh?"

Eddie flushes, managing to say "well, what can I say? You're my dream girl."

"Who would have guessed? Eddie Munson is a cheese ball." You stand up, finished with your breakfast, and poke your tongue out at him.

Pulling you into his lap suddenly, you squeal. "Sweetheart, if I'm cheesy it's your fault." Pressing kisses to your neck.

You whimper, the unexpected attention sending shivers down your torso. "Eddie, fuck."

"That's never gonna get old." He smiles, stroking your back. "Let me grab a t shirt and I'll take you home." You smile back and kiss the tip of his nose.

********************

The next day at lunch, Eddie and the rest of Hellfire are already seated in the cafeteria when you enter.

"Hey boys" you smile, moving toward your usual spot. A chorus of 'heys' greets you. No different from any other day.

"Hey sweetheart." Eddie winks at you. He's not told them. You could tell by the maniacal grin on his face. He probably wants this to be dramatic. Of course he does, it's Eddie.

Well, here goes nothing.

Instead of sitting in your usual seat, next to Eddie, you flop down straight into his lap.

"Hey."

You kiss him, hard. Eddie's eyebrows raise as high as they can go, hands hovering in shock for a moment, before they come to rest at your waist. Your hands move into his hair as you deepen the kiss. You're pretty sure you can hear gasps around you, or something very much like it. It all sounds like it's underwater, unimportant. Breaking the kiss, you gaze at Eddie's face.

Eddie looks back at you with glassy eyes and chuckles. "Wasn't sure how you wanted to handle it."

"Oh you're mine. Everyone needs to know." You smirk at him, hand possessively held to his chest.

Finally breaking eye contact, you look at the other members of your party.

"Holy shit!" Mike's jaw drops.

"I fuckin' knew it" Gareth says to Jeff, pointing an accusing finger at you both. Jeff shakes his head in shock.

Dustin, on the other hand, just looks pleased. "About time" he grinned.

"How did you know?" You say to Dustin, puzzled. When your eyes flick back to Eddie he looks just as surprised as you.

"Duh, it's like Steve says, you can feel it. The electricity. It's like, super obvious."

Eddie smirks, "electricity, eh?" And runs his hand up the back of your t shirt, stroking softly at your skin. His other hand rubs up your thigh. You shiver, feeling his delicate touches send bolts of arousal through you, face flushing. Thinking of reprimanding him for being so forward at school, you turn your head to face him. His eyes are dark, smile almost villainous. You can't risk telling him off lest a wanton moan escape your lips, especially when he looks that hot.

Getting out of Eddie's lap, you pull him by the wrist out of the cafeteria, eliciting cat calls and wolf whistles from your friends. Yanking him outside, you pout at him.

"Eddie you can't do that to me at school."

"I'm sorry." He kisses your cheek, then your jaw, then your throat. "I missed you."

You laugh at that. "It's been like 24 hours!"

He keeps pressing kisses to your neck, hand stroking at your waist. "Actually," in between kisses, "its more like 30. Torture."

"Eddie, Jesus." Just the small amount of attention to your neck and side has your body buzzing with warmth.

Eddie pulls away, hands in the air.

"Sorry sorry sorry, you're just, you're perfect. You, do things to me. I just want to eat you up or something, I don't know." He laughs, hand stroking the back of his neck.

You smile shyly at him, "you already did."

Eddie's face turns pink, but he flashes a devilish grin all the same.

"Can I take you out? We could go grab some burgers on Friday or something? Maybe go back to mine afterwards?"

"That sounds real nice Eddie." You peck him on the cheek.

"So, ready to go back inside and face the hoard?"

"Sure." He takes your hand in his and you both walk back inside, lovesick smiles plastered on your faces.

********************

When Friday night rolls around, Eddie comes to yours to pick you up. When you open the door he's practically vibrating with excitement.

"Hey sweetheart!" He goes to kiss you full on the mouth; you turn your head so he only manages to graze your cheek with his lips. Looking confused, you nod your head over your shoulder. As if on cue, your mom pops her head out of the kitchen.

"Ah, this is must be Eddie, pleasure to meet you."

"Pleasures all mine Mrs y/l/n." He holds his arm out, and your mom shakes his hand.

"Ok, ok," you say, slinging your bag on your shoulder, "you met him, he's not an axe murderer, we're leaving now." And you push Eddie through the door.

"Ok bye sweetie have fun!"

You grab Eddie by the arm and pull him towards his van.

"Woah sweetheart no need to rip my arm out the socket!"

"There is unless you want to deal with my Dad."

"Oh ok shit lets move" and he sprints dramatically to his van. You shake your head and jog after him, your skirt flapping at your knees.

Once he starts driving, he only moves about 50 feet then stops.

"What are you-"

"Shhh" he whispers, putting his finger to your lips. Eyes darting around, he looks like a mad man.

"I think the coast is clear." Grabbing your face he kisses you full on the lips. It's sloppy and loud, a caricature of a kiss. You laugh into him, pulling away from his antics.

"You're an idiot Eddie."

"Yeah, and you like me." He says right back in a sing song voice. He sticks his tongue out at you then starts driving again. Eventually, you pull to a stop at a local diner.

"I hope this is okay, I mean its nothing fancy, but the food is-"

"It's great Eddie." Patting his hand, reassuring him.

Gesturing to your bag you ask, "can I leave this in the back?"

"Sure. Erm, why'd bring it if you don't need it?" Tilting his head toward you with the question.

"It's just my overnight bag."

Eddie's hands fly to his face and his eyes practically roll to the back of his head.

"Holy shit sweetheart you gonna stay?"

"Yeah, I mean, I thought that's what you meant when you said we'll go back to yours? I mean if it's okay, I already asked my mom."

"Let me think... Er, hell yeah?" Reaching to hold the back of your head he plants another kiss to your mouth. This time it's sensual, all soft lips and softer tongue. His other hand holds your jaw, stroking your chin with his thumb. A wave of silken pleasure glides through you as you moan into him, your hands grabbing onto his t shirt to anchor you to this realm. Without it you fear you could float away, lost in his kiss.

He pulls away whilst you stare at him glassy eyed, utterly smitten.

"So, back to mine yeah?" You giggle at his eagerness, sparking you out of your dreamlike state.

"Eddie, I think we need to at least eat something."

"Okay okay, you win let's go."

When you walk into the diner you fear you may already have a problem. There's a jukebox playing tinny music in the corner, plates are rattling, a couple are bickering at the counter, the lights are too bright. It's a lot to take in all at once. You feel your breath hitch, mild panic tensing your muscles.

Eddie moves you to a booth, which helps but not entirely. He's chatting, talking about what happened a couple of nights ago in the D&D campaign. Giving clipped answers in return, you try to calm and centre yourself but it doesn't seem to be working.

A glass breaks somewhere, the shattering noise making you flinch. Staring at Eddie with wide eyes, he frowns and strokes your hand. Without meaning to, you recoil at the touch.

"Are you ok? What's wrong?" He asks, concern coating his words thickly.

You want to say a hundred things, a thousand things. You want to tell him the lights are too bright and the noise is too much and you can't think clearly. That you can't focus on his touch when there's so much going on. You want to say you're not a freak for feeling like this even if you believe that you are. You want to tell him not to run away, not to leave you, because you do want him to touch you, it's just all too much.

Nothing of the sort can make it past the lump in your throat. Staring at him, eyes pleading for mercy, for understanding, all you struggle out is "I- I can't..."

Frustrated tears form in the creases of your eyes and you wipe them away angrily.

"Hey, woah don't cry sweetheart! What can I do? Do you want to leave?" He reaches over to touch you again but stops himself in time.

You nod pathetically, more tears forming.

You're ruining everything.

Eddie gets up and leads you out the diner, arms herding you, wanting to provide comfort but desperately attempting not to touch you.

He opens the door for you and you make your way into his van, feeling a little better now you're somewhere safe. Taking deep breaths, you try to calm down.

"Was it too much?" Eddie's voice is soft, quiet, as if he's afraid to break you with it. You can't risk looking at him, you'll cry again, so you simply nod.

"Are you still hungry?" Another nod.

"You know what you want?" This time you do turn to look at him, eyes a bit wild, trying to tell him telepathically that there's no way in hell your brain can make a decision right now.

Eddie understands.

"Tell you what sweetheart, their cheeseburgers are amazing, I'll get us some, and a milkshake. I'll be right back. You okay waiting here?"

Smiling weakly, you reach over and squeeze his hand. He squeezes right back, looking at you with the softest eyes.

While you wait for his return, you take your time looking around the inside of the van. You touch the pile of tapes he has, looking at them one by one. Fingers trail across the dashboard, moving a small amount of dust, feeling the bumpy surface beneath your fingertips. The smell helps. There's an ancient air freshener hanging from the rear view mirror but it must be dead, because all you can smell is cigarettes, weed and Eddie. The fragrance engulfs you, tells you you're safe. Grounds you.

Upon his return, he hands you the food and the biggest milkshake you think you've ever seen in your life.

"Jesus Eddie that's huge."

He looks over and sees you holding the milkshake.

"Impressive isn't it?" He smirks and winks at you. Blushing you turn away, trying not to think of what he's implying.

Eddie drives for around ten minutes or so, until he finds a dirt track hidden by trees. Reversing into it and stopping, he helps you out the front of the van and opens the back doors. After putting a musty blanket down for you both to sit on, you take a seat, food and milkshake between you.

You sit relatively quietly, though there's some hushed conversation between you. Staring out at the trees and the sunlight dappled through them, it's beautiful.

The burger is surprisingly good, though the fries are a little cold now. The milkshake is delicious, chocolate flavoured with milk and ice cream, and you share it between you.

You pass him the last of the milkshake.

"I cant have any more of that, I'll explode." He says.

"Just take it away from me, save me from myself."

He chuckles and takes it away, putting it in a bag with the rest of the trash.

"You feeling better now sweetheart?"

"Yeah, tons." Pausing for a second, you blurt out "I'm really sorry!"

"Hey, it's okay." He leans forward, and stops. "er, can I touch you now?"

You climb into his lap, arms around his neck.

"Okay I'll take that as a yes." He holds you close as you try and explain.

"It's just too much, I couldn't deal with it, and when that happens it's hard to speak. I'm awful at making decisions when I'm like that. I didn't want to ruin our date."

"Hey, nothings ruined." He strokes your back. "I think you improved it, this is nicer than some diner!" Kissing you on the forehead he says "thank you."

"For what?"

"Letting me take care of you."

You stare back into his calming eyes, still laced with concern. You've never wanted to say 'I love you' more than in this moment. Knowing it's too soon, and you don't want to frighten him away, you settle for planting a soft kiss to his lips.

********************

An hour later you're both in Eddie's room, listening to music, your legs draped over his. You're passing a joint back and forth, enjoying each other's company. He hasn't stopped touching you the entire time.

Eddie's stroking you, fingers whispering across your skin, tracing your bare leg, over and over. You feel peaceful, even though every movement was making you hum with desire.

"You really can't help it can you?" You smile kindly at Eddie.

"Help what sweetheart?"

"Touching me." Your smile growing wider.

"Oh I'm sorry, I suppose I can't-" he moves to shift position away from you, but you grab his hand.

"Please don't stop."

The smile that creeps across his face is simply diabolical.

His hands make their way back to your thighs, stroking gently, higher and higher. Your skirt gets bunched up almost to your waist as he continues to move up your leg.

You wiggle in place, carnal desire building up in you. Surely he could feel the heat that was pouring from between your thighs?

Eddie gets up and kneels between your legs. You look at him, biting your lip, unable to stop the feeling of nerves and excitement bubbling in your stomach. He strokes your knees, head tilted to the side.

"You okay princess?"

You flush, nodding at him.

"Are you sure? I mean, I don't want to rush you-"

You look him in the eye and pull your tank top over your head. Laying there in front of him, skirt hiked up displaying your black panties, matching bra barely covering your breasts. You unbutton your skirt, slip it off and toss it to the floor.

"Holy hell." Eddie stares at you for a while, hands compulsively stroking your knee.

Eddie slowly pulls his t shirt over his head. You'd seen him shirtless, less than a week ago, but this seems different. Serious. His lithe, pale body, such a stark contrast to his tattoos, was kneeling right before you. Bare chested apart from his guitar pick necklace.

"You're really hot." The words come unbidden, spill words falling from your mouth.

Eddie laughs "you're kidding right? Have you seen you? You're fucking perfect sweetheart."

He leans over you and kisses you on the lips, so so softly. His lips are velvety smooth, crushing into yours. You both open your mouths to each other. Tongues pressing heat into each other, your bodies mimicking that action, skin rushing against skin.

Eddie's hand moves to palm your breast over your bra and you gasp loudly at the sensation. You can feel him smiling into the kiss when he pulls the cup of your bra down and runs his finger across your nipple.

You flounder, moving your hand shakily behind you to unclip your bra, letting it fall.

Eddie's face is glowing, blush reaching the tips of his ears. He bends down and takes your nipple into his mouth, running his tongue around in circles. He releases your nipple with a wet noise.

"Oh God, Eddie."

Smug smile spreading across his face, he takes your nipple back into his mouth and sucks, teasing the other in his rough fingertips. The feeling makes you moan audibly. There's a heavy, tight feeling of arousal sitting deep in your chest. You want to touch him. You need to touch him. There's no way you can show him how good he makes you feel but you damn well want to try.

"Eddie." Hands shakily drifting to his belt, "can I? Touch you?"

"Holy shit yes please." You giggle as he lays down next to you, fumbling with his belt. He pulls his jeans and boxers off in one go erratically, flinging them across the room.

Fucking hell.

You're staring, you can't help it. Never having seen one in real life, it's kind of intimidating. It almost looks painful, rock hard and throbbing, nearing purple at the tip.

You scoot right next to him, bare skin touching, laying on your side, fingers ghosting down Eddie's chest, leaving goose bumps in their wake.

What if he doesn't like it? What if it's obvious I don't know what I'm doing?

"Sweetheart you good?" He holds your nerve stricken hand in his, stilling your movements.

"Yeah, I mean, I've never, done this before" you mumble shyly into his chest.

"Hey, don't worry about it," he kisses you on the forehead, cupping your hand in his and brings it down, down, over the course hair on his lower stomach and onto his pulsing cock.

Eddie hisses as his guides your hand into a fist, moving it gently up and down. The skin is so soft, warm silk, moving with your hand against his hardness. You stroke him tentatively, getting used to the thought of it in your hands.

He moves your hand away and you pout for a second thinking you did something wrong, until he brings it up to his mouth and licks a long, wet stripe with his tongue over your palm and fingers. Your thighs clench, the lewd gesture taking your breath away. You look up at him and he is grinning wickedly. He holds your own hand out to you.

"Spit."

You raise your eyebrows but do as he asks. When it lands in your hand you look at him to see if that was alright, but judging by his face it was more than okay. Eddie's eyes are hooded, biting his bottom lip, cheeks flushed.

He brings your hand back down to his hard member and you form a fist, beginning to move it up and down, slick spit letting you glide easily over him.

"Fuck, baby just like that."

Spurred on by his words, you grip a little tighter, move a little faster. Eddie makes the prettiest sounds, moaning, bucking into your hand.

"Shit that's, that's really good, fuck."

His other arm is around you, hand snaking into the back of your underwear to cup your ass. You keep fisting him, looking at the way your hand bounces up and down his dick, watching pre cum dribble out the top and onto your fingers. You're drenched in your own spit and his, droplets are flicking onto his lower stomach.

"Baby, you're gonna, Jesus, you have to stop, you're gonna make me cum."

You speed up at that, turning your head to look at his face. He's so gorgeous like this, red faced and desperate.

"Please Eddie I want you to, please, I want to make you cum."

Your arm burning with exertion, you squeeze his length and fuck him with your hand, faster, squeezing your thighs together, impossibly turned on by him crumbling to your touch. Suddenly you can feel him twitching, dick incredibly hard. He's grabbing your ass firmly with his hand; you watch as his abs contract and he releases over his stomach with a high pitched moan, nearly convulsing.

"Jesus H. Christ. Princess, that was. Fuck."

Eddie's panting, longing to catch his breath. He presses wet kisses into your forehead.

"I take it that was good then?" You ask coyly.

Eddie hums in response.

"Could you, er, help me out princess?" Gesturing to the mess you helped to make on his stomach.

You look around, finding a box of tissues and handing it to him. The second he's cleaned up he grabs you by the ankles and pulls you bodily towards him making you squeal in surprise.

"Your turn." Then he's assaulting your neck with kisses. You giggle, until he slows down, actions becoming less comical, more loving. His teeth graze your neck and the sudden feeling makes you moan, sending a shiver down your side.

His mouths descends to your chest, taking your nipple in your mouth whilst his hands find their way to your underwear, stroking your clothed clit. You cry out at the dual sensation.

He pings the hem of your panties against your skin lightly. "Can I take these off?"

"Yeah," you manage to say, voice smaller than you meant it to be.

He slowly peels them down your legs and off. Sitting back on his knees between your legs he runs rough hands over the tops of your thighs, causing you to quiver.

Bending down, he presses kisses to the insides of your thighs, sprinkling slivers of sensation over you. Whining, your back arches, the light kisses stirring your stomach. You can feel Eddie's breath on your clit.

"Hey sweetheart, you miss me? I missed you."

"Eddie are you seriously taking to-"

Eddie interrupts you, "darling I'm tryin' to have a conversation here."

"Eddie!" You look down at him, laughing at his bare faced cheek.

He smiles and licks a long, languid stripe up the length of your pussy, never breaking eye contact. The noise you make is barely human. He wraps his lips around your clit and sucks softly.

"Fucking Hell, Eddie!"

You moan at the contact, it sends volts through your core. He pushes a finger deep into your cunt. It's like nothing you'd felt before; you'd pleasured yourself by your own hands before but it felt nothing like this. His movements were so sure, his finger so thick. He slipped another finger in and curled them and you swore you were about to black out. It was just so intense. You felt your cunt clench around him.

"Eddie, oh my God."

"Shit baby you gonna cum? Please, cum for me."

A low, throaty moan breaks from your mouth as you feel your orgasm being yanked from you, pulled by his fingertips. The feeling keeps coming, waves upon waves of pleasure. He's pulling everything you have from you until your quivering and writhing beneath him begging him to stop.

You're sure you must have fainted, because the next thing you know Eddie's hovering over you, peppering delicate kisses to your cheeks, lips, forehead, nose.

"Hey." You smile shyly at him.

"She's back! You okay baby?"

"Hmmm I'll say." You pull him close so he falls on top of you, kissing him full on the lips, tongue exploring.

Both your naked bodies are pressed tight against each other, you feel the heat radiating off of him. His firm member, already hard again, was pressing against your heat. Stroking his back with your palm you pull him closer, closer, wanting to feel nothing but Eddie.

He breaks the kiss, nudging his nose with yours, his hair tickling your face.

'Sweetheart, do you... are you ready?"

It doesn't take a genius to work out what he's asking. Honestly, you were ready. You had been ready ever since those deep brown eyes had sought yours.

"I'm ready. I want you Eddie." You share another long, lazy kiss. He grins at you, flashing that brilliant smile. Tears threatened to spill from your eyes at the sheer joy on his face, mirroring the joy in your heart.

Eddie gets up to reach his bedside table and grabs a rubber, pulling it from its packet and rolling it down his length. He strokes himself a couple of times, hissing at the touch, and turns back to face you, climbing between your open legs.

Biting your lip, you look at him. Pale skin glowing in the light, firm beautiful body glistening, a slight sheen of sweat to his skin. His hair looks wilder than normal, face breaking out in an incessant grin. He looks like an angel. He looks like a demon. He was either your saviour, or your damnation. You didn't care, you wanted him, only him.

He pushes his hardened cock against your pussy; it grazes your clit making you groan.

"Sweetheart, if it's too much, just tell me and I'll stop, okay?"

His hand strokes your jaw as you stare into his eyes, lost in them.

"I'm ready, Eddie please-" the rest of your sentence turns into a cry of pain and pleasure. Eddie pushes his full length into you, stretching you. The pain is sharp to begin with, but it quickly dulls. He lays fully on top of you and you wrap your arms and legs around him tightly. Throbbing pulse between your legs, your heat reminding you of the burning desire there, that he's caused. You move your hand into his hair, the other planting firm strokes over the expanse of his bare back. The skin to skin contact is incredible, it's decadent; nothing you've ever felt before.

Eddie lifts his head enough so his forehead is touching yours; burning eyes meet. You stare, transfixed by his gaze, when he starts slowly pumping in and out of you.

Your forms are twisting together until you don't know where you end and he begins. He picks up his idle pace, hand running down your side to weave between your back and the mattress, the other holding your shoulder in a tight grip. You swear you can feel every bump and vein on his impressive length, every drag of his cock sending a ripple of yearning through your nerves.

You push against him, hips rolling to meet his thrusts. Moans are streaming out of your mouth, like a dam had burst and there was nothing to stop them any more. You had no filter, there was only this incredible fullness, this feeling of Eddie in every pore of your skin.

Locking lips with yours, Eddie pushes into you harder, you both moan wantonly into each other mouths, passion unconfined, chasing ecstasy. You break away, wanting to tell him he's making you cum but all that comes out is a broken near scream of his name. The feeling is immense, all encompassing, like Eddie's arms around you. It ebbs and flows through you; tingling warmth flowing out of your core, rivulets of pleasure wash over your skin as the throb of your own heartbeat takes over your contracting heat.

Eddie whimpers, high pitched and long, thrusts stammering until he releases.

You kiss, and kiss, and kiss again. You don't know who started giggling first, but pretty soon you are both laughing, the joy of the moment spilling out. He leans up on his elbow, free hand coming to cradle yours.

"You okay sweetheart?" Kissing the tip of your nose.

"Yeah, that was, wow." You squeeze his hand.

Nerves suddenly take over you. "Was that, okay for you?"

Eddie's grin lights up his whole face.

"Princess, that was probably the best thing that's ever happened to me."

When he pulls out you whine, over stimulated. When he's pulling the condom off and tying it you grab the comforter and wiggle under it.

Eddie joins you, arms and legs tangling, your face pressed to his chest.

"You wanna smoke sweetheart?"

"In a bit. I just want you."

"Give me twenty minutes and you can have round two."

Laughing at him you push him playfully.

"Eddie we've got all night." Grinning into his chest, being held in his arms, it was the most loved you think you've ever felt.

Taglist

@gigi-oceandust @lawlosaur314 @strangerthings1983fan @whore4romance @steviebunny @jadequeen88 @missbeewrites @ghosttownwherenoonegoes @dorkmunson @corrodedhawkins

@astrolockley @munson-fixation

#eddie x you #ms gexy writes #eddie munson smut #eddie fanfic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x reader #eddie my beloved #sensitive reader #sensory issues #neurodivergent #stranger things fan fic #stranger things

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lovesclinic · 11 months

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Haaaaiii!!!! I have a pretty personal request for our one and only Joel Miller 🤭 Sooo fem!reader is EXTREMELY sensitive. The smallest amount of pain or blood can bring her to tears. Someone looks at her for too long and she starts to over think it. Oh also veryyyyy sensitive to yelling, someone raising their voice at them. I would love for you to write a sensitive!sunshine!reader x grumpy!overprotective!joel. Where he's an absolute protective softie for her <333

This is my second time requesting and you didn't disappoint the first time since your fics are absolutely perfecto! 👌🏻

Mwah! 💋

my hero

꒱preoutbreakgrumpy!overprotective!joel x sensitive!sunshine!reader

꒱ in which joel loves his sensitive girl, and defends her no matter what

꒱ hi anon i love this concept sososo much! i just want him to protect me pls.. also this is kind of a series so checkout my other posts like this muah

"You can't just walk around the place.." the plump, balding man berated you,

"stompin' all over my gardenias like they dont mean a thing, you incosiderate.. idiot!" you could only sniffle in reply, hoping joel would be late to meet you at the park. you had only really started going out with joel recently, and you weren't ready for him to see you like this, weak and teary eyed.

but of course, like the gentleman he is, joel arrived right on time, not a minute late.

he did say he'd never leave a pretty lady waiting.

but you had just thought it to be one of those lies men said here and there, ill never leave you, ill love you forever, one of them.

''scuse me sir," joel drawled with that signature accent of his that made you weak in the knees, but not for the right reasons today.

wiping red hot face in the hood of your jacket, you quickly turn to bury your head in joel's chest, unable to handle him seeing your messy, snot covered, tear stained face.

you could only hear muffled words through the thick hood covering your face, and additionally your ears. however your hiding was short lived as the talking quickly came to a stop, as you heard what you assumed to be the agry man, stomping off.

"y'okay baby?" joel had to gently tug on your hood to grab your attention, and even then you refused to let him see your face.

you wished you could have been strong and just walked off from the man. you had heard somewhere that confident, attractive men should like confident women, who they can support. and joel is confident.. and attractive. but that just didnt feel like you.

"how 'bout we just head on down to that little bakery you love s'much.. yeah?" hearing the hesitation in joel's voice, you peeked your eyes out, just a tad, over your hood. seeing him looking a tad nervous pver your response.

he cared so much, just as much as you. so, maybe joel wasn't confiedent all the time. and you didn't have to be either.

"my hero.."

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d-a-r-l-i-i-n-g · 9 months

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Hii ml, can i pls get a sensitive reader that says sorry alot and is way too kind?

My mitch obsession is only getting worse idek wht to do😽👋

Ofccc lovely! Thank you for the request! I'll try my best go do this one so I'll base this on how I am like when I'm sensitive?

You caught Mitch's eye because you were so kind in a harsh world like this you shone brightly you made Mitch feel like..the world before the apocalypse, you weren't so sweet and kind to everyone always helping them you were too good for this harsh world full of murders, assulters and walkers it confused him, mitch first realised you were sensitive when he would joke around with you or tease you you hated his teasing because you took it to heart even though you didn't want to you couldn't help but take it to heart, you didn't say anything though, and sometimes when he would tell you to jokingly shut up you would most of the time be fighting back tears, so when you two get into a relationship he would be careful around you the last thing he wanted was for his beloved to get hurt, so he would be very careful with you he knows your sensitivity is something you can't control, but sometimes Mitch finds it hard to control his temper too, so when he does get upset at you feels so incredibly bad, when you would cry he would cradle you in your arms saying how he was sorry he would try so hard not to lose his temper with you, and he would get upset when others shouted at you or teased you, sometimes you would get upset at him but you knew he was trying so you would always hug him back after the argument, like the he would get angry at you you would just hug him, to calm him down you didn't like conflict between humans at all he thought you were a angel, you would always be sweet with him, and he would be sweet with you he can't help but feel jealous when your hanging out with Louis because he knows your extremely kind and so sweet to everyone its concerning, at the end if the day he loves you so much and he doesn't care if you cry a lot he would comfort you instead, no matter what situation.

#twdg x reader #twdg fluff #twdg mitch x reader #Twdg mitch x reader fluff #sensitive reader #fluff

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junkratswifey · 1 year

Note

Oh~ how about mahiru with an S/O that while scolding them she goes to far and hits a sore spot and genuinely upsets them, making them think that she finds them to be a burden and will leave them but she apologizes and reassures them that she loves them.

Okay HOW DID YOU KNOW I LOVE ANGSTY FLUFF???? I'm down. I'm gonna write a whole scenario for this.

3rd POV

Y/n quietly stared at the stars, sighing before opening their front door, preparing to be scolded.

Their red-headed girlfriend stood up abruptly, shouting, "Where have you been?! Do you have any idea what time it is?!"

"Mahiru, I know..I was in the middle of a holdup.." Y/n muttered.

Mahiru, noticing the bruises and scratches on Y/n's face and arms began to raise her voice even louder.

"What the hell is this?! Did you get mugged?! In a fight?!" she blurted.

Y/n began to sweat. They never liked yelling. It scared them.

"GOD, Y/N! I ALWAYS HAVE TO LOOK AFTER YOU! WHY CAN'T YOU JUST TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF?! IT HURTS ME TO SEE YOU LIKE THIS!" she screamed. Her eyes widened as she covered her mouth.

"Y/n I'm so.."

It had been too late. Mahiru struck a nerve.

"I'm sorry for being a burden..Mahiru," Y/n said between sniffles.

Mahiru attempted to reach out for her partner, but Y/n had already began to run to the bathroom, locking themself in.

Y/n was in the bathroom for a good five minutes, crying and panicking.

"I'm the worst.." they cried.

Between the heartbroken cries, Y/n heard a small voice.

"No, you aren't," it spoke.

"Mahiru?" Y/n rubbed their eyes.

Mahiru sighed, "Can I come in?"

"...I guess so," Y/n mumbled.

Mahiru walked in, sitting on the floor next to Y/n.

Y/n was quick to open their mouth.

"I'm so sorry, p-please don't leave me! I just w-wasn't thinking about you and what i-impact this had-please just-"

They were cut off with a soft hug from Mahiru.

"I'm the one that's sorry. I didn't mean what I said. I love you. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me," she sniffled.

Y/n smiled through their tears, wrapping their arms around Mahiru.

"I love you too," Y/n sighed, putting their head on Mahiru's, laying a small kiss on the top of her red hair.

AAAAAAHHHHHHHH I LOVE THIS

#Mahiru koizumi x reader #Mahiru x reader #Danganronpa x reader #sensitive reader

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ilovemadzz · 6 days

Text

okay yall im locked in, this toji thing gon be out tdy, TRUST.

#maddytingz #maddy talks #black reader #fanfics #sensitive reader #jujutsu toji #toji angst #jjk toji #jujutsu kaisen toji

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mylovethinspo · 1 year

Text

Mon avis sur l'usage des sensitives readers

Ne tournons pas autour du pot, dans cet article, il est question des senstitives readers et des maisons d’éditions qui font appel à leurs services. Tout a commencé avec une publication, très putaclic, de France Culture, sur l’usage des sensitives readers en maison d’édition. Pour rappel, la personne que l’on nomme sensitive reader est chargé de détecter les propres sexistes, racistes,…

View On WordPress

#écrire #écrire un roman #écriture #corriger un roman #maison d&039;édition #sensitive reader

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americantfootball · 1 year

Note

Hey babes <33

I don’t know if your taking requests rn but i loved your proxies x reader :). uhm but i hope this isn’t to much to ask but could u possibly write a proxies x like sensitive reader?? us crybabies get no love </33

i hope it’s not to much and have a good day and i completely understand if your not taking requests 💋

OMG NO OFC I TAKE REQS! 💗

Thanks for requesting, anon!

— — —

COMFORT-FILLED HUGS — proxies

cw, }: sensitive!reader, crying, yelling (not at reader), cursing, arguing, toby and masky just not liking each other, HOODIE APPRECIATION

summary, } sometimes getting in fights is part of the job— unfortunately, it’s not your favorite.

You loved your boys, don’t get me wrong, but their constant bickering and your overall sensitivity did not always click. They realized this, and tried their best to keep the shouting at a minimum, but…

“Toby! You dumbass! Why can’t you ever get anything right?!”

You flinched slightly, dragging your feet heavily behind you and standing at Hoodie’s side, watching the quarrel unfold before you.

“Not m-my fault! Y-You’re the o-one who suggest w-we go this w-way!” Toby remarked, standing there in a defensive position as he lowered his mask to make himself more audible. He then crossed his arms like a pouty child, giving Masky an angry look for always being the one to blame.

It was a constant thing, yet you never seemed to get accustomed to it. You loved your boys, and one of the things you so desperately wanted to see was Toby and Masky getting along. However, that was about as probable as Masky reading a map.

Taking a few small steps, you hid yourself behind the hooded man, grabbing the hem of his sweatshirt to ground yourself, as you felt your eyes gradually increasing with tears as the boys yelled insults at the other, increasing with volume as they did so. Hoodie noticed your cocooning, and he reached a protective arm to guard you from them. His head tilted backward, letting you know that he was present, ready to comfort you more than he was doing already.

You sniffled, grabbing Hoodie’s arm and holding onto it like your life depended on it. You felt slightly more grounded than you had before, taking deep breaths as the tears that fell from your eyes at rapid pace before seemed to slow and were now at the same speed of a faucet slowly dripping.

Hoodie snapped to get the attention of the other two, however you were too focused on the leaves littering the ground to notice.

The bickering pair looked up to see their sweetheart looking down with tears leaving their eyes.

“Fuck…” Masky whispered, rushing over to you cautiously, not wanting at all to scare you. Toby did the same, however placing his hatchet down on the ground where he stood before making his way over to you at the speed of light.

Hoodie’s arm was draped around your shoulder, while his other gloved hand reached up to wipe the tears from your eyes carefully, doing so with a gentleness that stunned even him.

“I’m so sorry, sugar,” Masky said, brushing your hair behind your ear. Tim wasn’t one for showing emotion, so when Masky did so, you were always caught off guard. “I truly am.”

“Me t-too…” Toby said, rubbing his arm guiltily as he stood next to Masky, looking at your face to trace your expression for signs of forgiveness.

“It’s okay, guys, really,” You apologized. “They just fall sometimes.” Your genuine smile made all the boys form one on their faces.

Toby went in for a hug hesitantly, but once your arms opened, accepting his embrace, he held you tightly. One after one, the two other boys joined the hug, and you were left with an overwhelming sensation of comfort.

Pretty sure you guys were still lost though.

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milequaritchsslut · 3 months

Text

Abby fingering you

Never Again

“Shhh” she cooes into your ear, her thick fingers curling inside your drenched cunt as you whine and squirm.

You let out a soft whimper as a blush spread across your cheeks, your big wide eyes looking up at her as she hovers over you. Leaning on her free arm as her fingers thrust into you.

“Abby!” You whine out, her speed getting faster as she smirks down at you.

“I got you, it’s ok sweetheart” she breathes down your neck, her lips latching onto your throat as your arms wrap around her neck.

She was going so fast, her fingers felt so filling as she went in and out. Your wet cunt squeezing around them perfectly as you got tighter and tighter.

“Just relax baby” she hummed softly, her lips traveling up your neck and to the bottom of your chin.

You couldn’t take it, it was too much. Her soft wet lips were inching towards yours as she thrusted inside of you again, your legs spreading even more as your chest heaved up and down.

“H-hah” you whimpered out, your orgasm coming up inside you. Your cunt clenched around her fingers even tighter as she hit your sweet spongy spot again, her thick fingers fitting just perfectly inside of your walls.

“I fit nice right baby?” She chuckled softly, admiring the way she got you riled up so easily. Her lips found yours right away, her eyes closing as she kissed you deeply. Her fingers slowing down as she focused on the kiss and pulled herself closer to your body.

“M-mm” you moaned out softly, your tongue intertwining with hers. You felt her teeth bite into your lip softly, a small whimper falling out of your mouth.

“Such a good girl f’me” she murmured, pulling away as her gaze was set on your pretty little face. Watching how your features twisted in pleasure from her silly little fingers inside of you, she loved it when you got all whiny and desperate.

“A-abs I’m almost there” you whined out softly, your legs slowly squeezing around her thick veiny arms as her pace quickened.

The sound of your slick dripping out of your cunt and coating her fingers filled your senses as you hit your breaking point. Your legs squeezed together tightly as your back arched and you let out a loud moan. She watched as your orgasm spilled out of you, her fingers slowly pulling out as a trail of your slick followed her.

“So good f’me” she chuckled as she smirked down at you.

#abby anderson fanfic #abby anderson smut #abby anderson fic #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson tlou2 #abby x you #abby and #abby the last of us #abby tlou #abby x reader #abby anderson #abby x fem!reader #abby x y/n #Abby x sensitive!reader

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cy-cyborg · 8 months

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What able bodied authors think I, an amputee and a wheelchair user, would want in a scifi setting:

Tech that can regenerate my old meat legs.

Robot legs that work just like meat legs and are functionally just meat legs but robot

Literally anything that would mean I don't have to use a wheelchair.

If I do need to use a wheelchair, make it fly or able to "walk me" upstairs

What I actually want:

Prosthetic covers that can change colour because I'm too indecisive to pick one colour/pattern for the next 5+ years.

A leg that I can turn off (seriously, my above knee prosthetic has no off switch... just... why?)

A leg that won't have to get refitted every time I gain or loose weight.

A wheelchair that I can teleport to me and legs I can teleport away when I'm too tired to keep walking. And vice versa.

In that same vein, legs I can teleport on instead of having to fiddle around with the sockets for half an hour.

Prosthetic feet that don't require me to wear shoes. F*ck shoes.

Actually accessible architecture, which means when I do want to use my wheelchair, it's not an issue.

Prosthetic legs with dragon-claw feet instead of boring human feet or just digigrade prosthetics that are just as functional as normal human-shaped ones.

A manual wheelchair with the option to lift my seat up like those scissor-lift things so I'm not eye-level with everyone's butt on public transport/so I can reach the top shelf by myself.

A prosthetic foot that lights up when it hits the ground like those children's shoes.

A few additions I remember seeing in the comments on my old account:

holographic prosthetic covers

transformers-style mobility aids that can fold into the shapes of different aids (e.g. a wheelchair that can fold into a cane)

prosthetic covers with pockets/hidden compartments (kind of surprised this isn't a thing already).

find my leg (like find my iphone, but for your legs when you haven't worn them in a while lol)

TLDR: Stop assuming every disabled person would want to be as close to "normal" as possible in your works. Some absolutely would and having options for them if fine, but I rarely see any examples of media showing those of us who don't. start letting amputees in your scifi works have fun with our prosthetics, fix the problems real amputees are already talking about instead of what you think are the issues and make your settings as a whole accessible!

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cyxnidx · 6 months

Text

LATE NIGHTS.

character: neuvilette x fem!reader

prompt: "please forgive me.. jus' couldn't wait."

warnings: consensual somnophilia, needy + sensitive neuvi, wet dream, slight dacryphilia, edging

a/n: been thinkin ab this for ages

neuvilette is shaken from his sleep after a wet dream. a dream that was so intense it seemed to get him out of his sleep - his hard on lifting the sheets from his current sleeping position.

and out of the corner of his eye - was you. your peaceful, sleeping figure. eyes closed softly, quiet snores occasionally leaving your soft lips. out of what he'd excuse as curiosity, he pulled the sheets back. just a bit. it exposed nothing too extreme: just an oversized shirt you'd bought while out shopping. it was supposed to be a piece for an outfit, but now it's just a classic shirt you sleep in.

removing the sheets further, he admires the way the shirt cascades down your body, hugging you perfectly.

the more of you he sees, the worse he gets. he's palming his cock now, noticing the spots of pre leaking from his tip. he takes another look at you, the sheets now fully off your body. your legs exposed, as you curl into a ball due to the lack of warmth.

the thoughts in neuvilettes mind are anything but professional - anything but acceptable. but you wouldn't mind, right?

you did at some point have that discussion. the discussion of what you wouldn't mind sexually, and what you're into. the same conversation that made neuvilette shy out of his mind.

"if for whatever reason you're awake, and horny while i'm asleep, but don't wanna wake me up.. don't be shy to fuck me til i wake up." your voice echos through his mind. "i won't be upset, promise."

he sighs, moving hesitantly as an attempt to not wake you. he knows it may be inevitable, but he'd want you to get every second possible.

pulling his bottoms off, his cock springs from its confines and slaps up against his stomach. the moonlight defines his body, creating a silhouette only a god would create. his tip is pink and angry when he takes hold of it, pulling off your bottoms as well.

he lightly rubs against your pussy lips, spreading your slick before inserting two fingers. he curls them upward, almost smirking at your unconscious reaction. he then moves to lick a stripe up your cunt, tongue fucking you softly as to not stir you too much. when he feels you're slick enough, he takes hold of his tip.

though, he still frowns. he pushes himself against you, almost groaning at the way your slick feels against his tip. the idea of using you in your sleep still bothers his slightly, but he wasn't against the idea. especially not for a first time occurrence.

pushing himself past your folds and into your tight little hole, he tries to keep moving to a bare minimum - as much as possible, anyway.

"jus for a little, baby.." he mumbled, slowly fitting himself in you. bottoming out, he watched you stir in your sleep once again, likely at the feeling of being so full. "sorry.." he apologized, kissing your forehead as he began to move slowly.

his veiny cock dragged against the gummy walls of your cunt. you clenched around him involuntarily, provoking a surprised moan from him. once again, you stir from the noise. "neuvi.. neuvilette..?" you mumbled. neuvilette kissed your forehead softly, though, with no response you seemed to go right back to sleep.

at the very beginning, he thought it'd be easier. easy as ever, actually. until he kept getting a little too aggressive, making you stir in your sleep unintentionally, or almost waking you up had he not coaxed you back to your dreamland.

as time went on, neuvilette began to see it as a game of sorts - to not wake you up. only bad thing being, he constantly edged himself. the closer he got to his climax, the rougher he'd get. the more likely you were to be woken up. he didn't want to - he hated the idea of you losing sleep over him not having control over his sexual urges. but what could he do?

but now, his hand wrapped around your tit while the other took hold of your waist, he got needy. he was nearing a sort of overstimulation he'd never dealt with before. a neediness he never expected. a roughness even he wouldn't think could be provoked from him.

"please forgive me.." he mumbled, looking into your sleepy eyes as your hands couldn't decipher whether they wanted to grip the sheets at his fast pace or rub the sleep out of the corners of your eyes. "m' so sorry.. so sorry.." he whined, tears lining his eyes as he increased his pace, encouraged by the small moans and whines that began to exit your lips. "jus' couldn't wait.." he kisses your forehead, grip tightening over your waist.

"said i could, yeah? you don't mind.." he repeated what he remembered, his mind foggy from constantly edging himself. "couldn't wait. you were so pretty, and.." it began to rain outside as tears cascaded down his rosy cheeks. "..you understand, right? right?"

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sukunasweetheart · 9 months

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Thinking of breakup angst with sukuna...

Thinking of the build up towards it, the way you have been fighting over the littlest things for months now

It leads you to think about how self centered he can be, how you always feel like you loved him more than he loved you and how crushing it felt to have that realisation fall upon you every time

He can be so career focused sometimes, with the long business trips, work parties, etc. always working vehemently to get higher, threatening to leave you behind

And one particular night, the argument gets so heated that you dont get a wink of sleep afterwards, only staring blankly at nothing as you try to calm the chaos in your head. Sukuna heads out without a word the next morning, and you make the final decision in your head, alone, by yourself.

By the time sukuna comes back home with the intent of reconciliation, he finds that youre packing the remainder of your belongings into a suitcase in the bedroom, ready to move out of his home.

"what the fuck is all this?" he asks, his tone coming out harsher than he means it to be.

"what do you think? i'm breaking up with you. i'm moving out," you can barely stop your voice from wavering. you've cried too much this week.

"oh, come on. you know you don't mean that," he reaches out to grab your arm, but you withdraw away from his hand so fiercely that it even surprises him.

"don't you talk to me like that," you speak firmly, "like i'm being dramatic. why won't you ever treat me seriously? i am leaving, sukuna."

you continue your work, neatly folding up some of your shirts. you're already almost finished. he looks around, and the house looks half empty.

oh. you really mean it. you're really trying to leave.

"no, you're not. you're not leaving. not after everything we've been through together," he tells you defensively, grabbing your wrist, stopping you from folding your last shirt, trying to get you to look at him again.

"like what? constantly yelling at each other until our throats are sore? i'm really sick of it. and i'm sure you are, too."

"don't put words in my mouth. i may have gotten sick of our fighting, but i've never gotten sick of you," sukuna hisses, refusing to let you continue packing your things. you feel yourself getting swayed by his words.

"well, i am. i've gotten sick of you," you say quietly through gritted teeth.

"oh yeah? say it to me properly then. look at me dead in the eyes," he demands, voice getting lower.

"you heard me. i don't need to say it again." you pull away from his grip and try to get this last shirt folded. he grabs you again, by the hand this time, and the piece of clothing unravels once more.

"no, i didn't hear shit. convince me that you really want to leave me - and i'll let you go."

in a fit of anger, you turn to face him completely, but your resolve crumbles away when you see his expression. not the one you'd assigned to him in your own mind, but his true features, under the bright bedroom lights.

he looks serious. he looks concerned. he's asking you to tell him it's not true. tell him that you want to stay.

"...let me go. i'm leaving..." you say, voice finally breaking. like a broken faucet, your eyes begin leaking tears relentlessly and your throat closes up in that painful way that you hate, but nothing compares to the pain in your heart at the thought of really breaking up with this man here and now.

he lets you go...

and calmly takes your things out of the suitcase to put them back. you didn't miss the relief in his eyes that showed up for that split second.

"bring it back! i hate you," you attempt to raise your voice, but really, it's only just your ego speaking.

"you can't even say that you hate me in the correct tone. we're not breaking up," he mutters, hanging up your coats and putting them into the closet.

having been defeated, your legs give way and you sit down on the side of the bed, sobbing.

through the blur of your tears, you watch as he meticulously goes through your suitcase, putting everything where they belong. and you sob harder. he knows too much. he arranges your creams, perfumes and accessories in the perfect order on the dresser. he spends a good fifteen minutes, putting all of your belongings back where they should be.

and by the time he gets back to you, he's like a different man. the mattress dips from his weight as he sits next to you, bringing a box of tissues with him to wipe your tears away.

"we can talk tomorrow since we're both tired today," sukuna tells you as he dabs your eyes with the tissue, "i'll take the day off." you just sit still without responding. now that he mentioned it, the fatigue seems to fall upon you suddenly, like a brick. he coaxes you under the sheets.

soon, you find yourself in bed, in his arms. it's been a while since the two of you had cuddled so intimately. you feel oddly shy, the same way you did all those years ago when you first started dating him. there's a special kind of warmth that sukuna's body emits - and you're surrounded by it under these blankets.

"i'll try to do better... so don't go anywhere," he speaks with a softer tone.

because, it's true, he can't imagine living a life without you.

those are the last words you hear before you drift off to sleep.

the next morning, he's still in bed with you, and you're pleased to see he kept his word about taking the day off. checking the mirror, you're horrified and embarrassed about your swollen eyes from all the crying last night.

sukuna takes a look at you and chuckles without ill intent. but in your flustered state, you slap his arm until he's saying "my bad, my bad" in between laughs.

there's still some awkward tension between you and him, but going through breakfast together seems to melt some of that away, until you're ready to bring up yesterday's event.

it goes better than you'd expected, and after the discussion, the only thing that's left is to wait and see whether things will change for the better or not. whether his promises are empty or not.

"i didn't realise that you were so lonely. 'm sorry," he apologises as he plays with your hand, "i may work a lot, but you're always on my mind, doll."

it's like a huge weight off your shoulders.

and he begins to be more like his playful self again, after the talk.

"i'll need you to tell me that you love me today. since you told me you hated me yesterday," sukuna says with a smirk, hugging you from behind.

"well, you need to earn it," you shoot back, rolling your eyes.

"alright. will you say it back if i say it first?"

"sure."

"i love you."

"..."

"now that's not fair, is it?" he tickles you without mercy.

you burst out in laughter, thrashing around uncontrollably, trying to push him away.

"okay, okay! i love you!" you tell him in between breaths.

seemingly satisfied, he lets you go and pushes his face into the crook of your neck. he'll never let you go.

the following day after work, sukuna comes home earlier than usual, and he doesn't wear a grumpy expression in front of you. he greets you with a hug and kiss. it's a small gesture, but it makes you happy.

and slowly, the relationship begins to rekindle itself.

#crazyy how everything changes overnightt hahaha #blame it on the power of communication #my sensitive ass cant handle breakups or prolonged conflict so i had to make it cheesy at the end sorryy #maybe one day i'll be able to post proper heartbreak haha #sukuna #sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #soft sukuna #jjk x reader #sukuna x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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predestinatos · 6 months

Text

warm enough for you | CL16 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔

chapter 1 chapter 2 chapter 3 chapter 4

pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader

summary: charles has a special way of getting under your skin, especially when he insists on staying after the party is over. chapter 1 of an ongoing series.

tags: enemies to lovers, smut with a bit of plot, cocky!charles, bratty!yn

word count: 3.6k

minors dni ──★ ˙🍓 ̟ !! warnings & note underneath

warnings: smut, drunk (tipsy) sex, oral (f!receiving), penetration, unprotected sex.

author's note: first time attempting at writing smut and posting anything so please keep up with me. currently working on part 2.

Everyone was slowly leaving your apartment, the party reaching its natural end. Bottles were scattered across your living room, but apart from that, the flat was not as messy as expected. The party was more of a get together, given the small venue where you lived.

You were dizzy, the alcohol getting to your head and body, but conscious enough to decide that you could still clean things up before going to sleep. You waited for everyone to leave, and as you were getting ready to finally let out a deep breath you seemed to be holding the whole night, you notice someone standing, leaning against the kitchen doorframe. “Fuck you scared the shit out of me,” you start. His tall figure contrasted with the multicolored shadows of your living room, still dancing to a rhythm that was no longer there.

Then he chuckled. You knew it was him, he did not have to make a sound for you to recognize his frame, the way he always crossed his arms when he looked at you, as if in constant judgment. But if you had any doubts, that sound gave you all the certainty you needed. It was the chuckle he let out before a snarky remark. “I’m sorry, princess, I didn’t know you were so sensitive…” and there it was. The pet name used solely to annoy you, the tone that clarified his only purpose was to get under your skin.

“I would argue with you, but honestly I just want to clean up so please leave, thank you.” It was true. You enjoyed entertaining this back and forth, feeling him getting more and more irritated yet pleased with himself. But you were not in the mood for it, at least not now. Your head was softly spinning and taking your mind off of things is exactly what you need.

As you walk past him to the living room, in an attempt to showcase how you were not going to even acknowledge him, let alone join him in his games, he pushes himself off of the doorframe. “Just thought you could use some help.”

This was ridiculous, and you let out a loud, obnoxious laugh. Since when does he want to help you? Ever since the day you two met, he made it his mission to be as unhelpful as he could, rolling his eyes at everything you said, giving counter arguments to your opinions even if he agreed with them, all whilst smiling towards you with the look of pleasure over someone’s anger. You tried your best to avoid him, but it was impossible to do so, since your friend group was the same. Wherever you went, there he was, and vice versa. Eventually, obviously, you started acting the same way towards him as he did with you, and this just amused your friends even more. That was why he was here, in your apartment. He comes with the friends package, whether you like it or not.

Once again, apart from the laugh, you said nothing else. Instead, you leaned down and started picking up the empty bottles from the floor, whilst the lights kept changing colors from blue to purple to red. To your surprise, you hear him do the same, although he stumbles on himself a bit more than you. “Lightweight” you say, smirking, making your way towards the kitchen to put the bottles in a trash bag. That, and because the silence in the living room was too loud, made it too tight for both of you to fit.

As you placed the empty bottles carefully in the bag, avoiding the loud noise of glass on glass to heighten your soon to come headache, you feel a hand on your waist. His hand. His grip was tight and soft at the same time, sending shivers down your body which contrast with your annoyance. “Excuse me” he said behind you, almost whispering in your ear. His hand left your waist as fast as it got there, an indication of how he was aware you wanted more. “Was this less scary?” he asked, ironically.

You turned to look at him, almost ignoring the fact that you were trapped against the balcony as his body. You could feel his gaze on yours, and while you tried to hold it, you realized you couldn’t. The best you could do was run a hand through your hair in an attempt to disguise the tension running through your body. “You’re such an asshole” you said.

He finally looked away while smiling to himself, staring out the window. You took a second to notice the way his throat bobbed up and down, his hair was messy and careless due to the alcohol on his system which lowered his inhibitions. “You like it though.” Before you could turn away, his gaze stared at your again. His breathing was heavier than usual, the drunken smirk on his face juxtaposing with his furrowed eyebrows and darkened eyes. His face was so close, too close, for you to think straight. You looked at his lips, breaking eye contact once again, letting him win once again. “You wish” was all you could reply.

Without moving, his voice asked in defiance, “so what if I do?” You could feel his eyes exploring your body, his chest rising and falling in deep, steady, too controlled breaths. The red light in the living room shone behind him, highlighting his shape hovering above you. “That’s rich coming from you” you snickered. As much as you were feeling the tension between you both, as much as your teasing and bickering was reaching to a degree of immense repressed desire every time you two were in the same room, you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. You couldn’t.

The first time you two met, he went out of his way to drunkenly inform you, at a club, that you two “would never happen” and that he “would never fuck you.” To this day you fail to understand where the comment came from, to this day you don’t understand why he hates you so much but insists on making his presence known to you.

At first he seemed confused at your comment, his eyes searching your face for an explanation, but soon enough they widen in realization. Letting out a soft laugh, Charles ran his hands through his hair, making it even messier. “You still think about that?”

It was a ridiculous question, and he knew it. It was hard to hear something like that from someone who you basically had just met, even though he was drunk when he said it. You had not even had time to consider any sort of thing happening between you two and he had already declared it impossible. It seemed unbelievable that someone could be so full of himself to the point of declaring he was not going to bed with you, even before you showed any interest.

You pushed him away softly, and he did not stop you, despite his clear disappointment. That emotion was quickly replaced by a raising of eyebrows as he saw you open the door to the fridge and taking out two cold beers, handing him one. “You don’t seem to be leaving anytime soon, so help yourself.” Was all you could say.

This behavior could be explained by the alcohol running through both of your veins already, by your tiredness over the night, or the sheer need for company you had been needing for a while. You moved towards the living room again, slouching down on the sofa, and you needed not look back to know Charles was following you.

He lifted your legs, which were resting softly on the couch, only to sit down and place them on his lap carefully, with a grin splattered across his face. His side profile revealed a certain rigidness, his jaw tight and tense, but his eyes were soft and calm. “Did you mean it, though?” you asked. You seemed to have interrupted his thoughts, because his expression was lost at your sudden break of silence in the dark room.

“What do you think?” he asked back, never willing to give you the upper hand or satisfaction of a normal conversation. You tried to distract yourself from his cold hand caressing your leg, mostly because you did not know how much of it was intentional. He seemed to be doing it so nonchalantly and carelessly, you wondered if most of it was just instinct.

You tried to calm your voice before you replied, even though the first word that came out of your mouth sounded deeper and higher at the same time, uneven and nervous. “Well- I think, according to what you said that nigh-“ you started, but couldn’t finish. He did not allow you to, interrupting you and turning his face to you for the first time since you two sat down. “I know you’re not that dense, princess.”

Even in the darkly lit room, you felt his gaze burning your skin, focusing on your lips, then your neck. Meanwhile, you stared at his hand, moving slightly up your leg, sending shivers throughout your whole body, shivers you wish he did not notice, but knew, deep down, he was aware of. He knew the effect these had on you, he knew how to please, because that was his reputation. And you hated it at first, hated that he was so confident in his skills and so utterly arrogant about them, but now it only aroused you even more. You took a big sip of your beer, in an attempt to cool your now burning body.

That seemed to remind Charles he was himself holding a bottle of beer in his own hand, because upon seeing you swallow the liquid, he looked at the hand which was holding it. Moving it in order to hold it by the neck, grinning to himself in proud arrogance, he brought it close to your skin, your body hissing in pleasure at the temperature. You closed your eyes and exhaled softly, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing how much this seemingly simple action affected you, but also not wanting him to stop.

He whispered your name, the request for you to look at him implicit in his voice, and you complied. His movements did not stop, a slow game he seemed to be playing with you, in an attempt to see how far he could go. “You look so fucking hot,” he breathed.

Your body was aflame with lust, and so was his, you could tell. You could see him struggling to even speak clearly, to move clearly, trying his best to control his movements which threatened to unleash themselves. “Careful, Charles, you don’t want to break your promise,” you teased, as you slowly moved closer to him, both in defiance of his actions and tempting him to proceed with them.

He freed both of his hands as you placed yourself directly in front of him, sitting on his lap, feeling his erection through his jeans. “You’re making it very hard for me not to do it” he murmured. “Am I?” you asked again. You were feeling bold, enjoying how both of you were toying with the thin line between hate and desire, between forbidden and allowed. Charles merely nodded hungrily, his hands placed on your hips, caressing them softly.

Your pulse quickened at the touch, but also at his greedy and dark expression. You moved your hands towards his shirt, which you start unbuttoning slowly, revealing more and more of his skin slowly. Before you could move to the fourth button, he abruptly grabs a hold of your wrists and pins you to the sofa, underneath his frame. “Stop being such a fucking tease,” he demanded with an aggressive ardor in his voice. With that, he guided your hand which he was still holding towards his erection. You realized the agony he must be in, how his cock must be throbbing underneath those layers of fabric. You felt weak yourself, with an intoxicating need to undress, to ignite the fire that was visibly about to burst into crimson flames.

“You deserve it” you replied with a smirk. It didn’t seem to convince him, this attempt of yours at seeming stronger and unaffected by what was happening. You and him were playing a game but it was getting too real, too intense, too tempting. Letting go of your hand and getting closer to you, his lips mere inches away from yours, he placed a hand between your legs, feeling the pooling wetness growing. Your whole body shuddered at this, a moan escaping your lips and giving you away. “You’re just making it harder for yourself,” he whispered smugly, lips brushing against yours.

Desperately you pulled him in for a kiss. His kiss was filled with intoxicating craving, a groan escaping his lips at the sudden action, his hips grinding against you in frenzied movements. Breaking your kiss, his lips moved towards your neck, softly biting it and leaving wet marks as he kept going down. You undid the knot holding your short dress together, thanking yourself for the easy-access choice of wardrobe.

As he kissed your stomach and paused at your navel, looking up at you as if asking for confirmation. You looked at him and saw how he looked: disheveled and flushed, his cheeks red and messy hair. He looked absolutely mesmerizing, the mix of complete submission but demanding attitude affecting your body through a quickened pulse. You could only nod your permission, finding yourself at a loss of words. He did not hesitate to pull down your lacy underwear, leaving you exposed to him, feeling his warm breath against you. All at once, his lips were exploring your opening, followed by his tongue, moving with ravish.

You cried audibly in pleasure, your back arching against him in untamed pleasure. Unable to hold his own need for pleasure, Charles unzipped his jeans and began stroking himself. His ragged grunts made your body melt in jolts of bliss, and watching him touching himself as he ate you out sent you completely over the edge.

He raised his eyes at you as he kept savoring you, some of his hair sticking to his forehead, his gaze filled with contrasting innocence and total control over you. He pulled his lips away from you, placing himself above your frame, making you look so small in comparison to him. He hovered over you, shirt completely unbuttoned, hand still pleasuring his cock, visibly throbbing with need. You couldn’t help but lick your lips at the sight of him, face wet from your juices and his saliva, chest rising and falling incoherently. “I knew you’d love it” he breathed out.

It was admirable, really. How he still teased you and made it his mission to get under your skin, even like this. “That’s all you’ve got?” you replied, eyebrows raised, eyes half closed in unspoken defiance. “You’re jerking yourself off like a desperate teenager and I’m the one ‘loving it’?” you were testing him. Trying to see how much you could push him over the edge, annoy him, how he would take it out on you – or not.

“God you’re such a fucking brat” he hissed, holding your body with ease and turning you around, lying on your stomach. With his knees, he spread your legs apart and positioned himself between them. You felt him lower himself down, preparing yourself to be filled up, to quench the thirst growing at every passing second but- nothing was happening.

“What the fuck-“ you complained, annoyed. It was slightly embarrassing, your frustration over how long he was taking, and when you turned your head around slightly to see what was wrong, you saw that he had won. He was doing it on purpose, despite his own desperation to bury himself inside you. Amused, he chuckled bringing his hand to your back, caressing it as if to ease your pain in mocking comfort. “You have to tell me what you want, princess.”

“You can’t be serious” you hissed back. But he was, and you knew it. You had gotten this far already, and yet he would not let this go, and you did not know why he insisted so much. You had no idea how much it turned him on to see that only he could affect you like he did, to see how much control he had over you.

Rolling your eyes and doing your best at a monocordic voice, you complied “fuck me, Charles.” Yes, you were being bratty and petty, and yes, you would do anything just for him to fill the emptiness you were feeling inside you.

“You’re such a brat,” he growls as he thrusts himself into you. Your instantly arch your back in pain ad pleasure, feeling his whole body vibrating into you with untamed hunger. His hands grip your waist and force you to switch from a lying position to all fours, allowing him to access you easier. He continued his thrusts as he left bites on the back of your neck, and you filled the room with your cries.

He was not being soft or sweet about it. Charles was completely immersed in his need to have you, so much so that he could barely see anything apart from you, back arched in pleasure for him, the switching lights illuminating every curve of your body in sensuous effect. He dreamt about possessing you like this so often, thought about how good you’d feel so many times, that what was happening seemed to him unreal. He felt himself close to coming as you clenched around him, but before he could so, he pulled himself out of you.

“Not yet,” he started. His voice was husked and lazy, a reflection of how much restraint it was taking him not to fill you up already. You were about to protest, being so close yourself, but as you turned around you found yourself mesmerized by the sight of him. His green eyes were glossy, his face completely flushed and sweaty from withhold pleasure. As you stared at him, he raised an eyebrow and gave you a half-smile. He ran a hand through his disheveled hair, doing nothing to fix it, but it didn’t matter. He seemed almost shy about how you were looing at him, which was insane and ridiculous, given what you were doing, what you were.

“I want to look at you” you said. This caused Charles’ eyes to widen in surprise, not expecting your bluntness. Even you were shocked at what you said and how demanding you sounded, but you couldn’t help yourself.

Holding one of your ankles and placing it on his shoulder, Charles entered you with unleashed violence, his gazed interlocked with yours. You thought about how pornographic the view must be for him as well, your swollen lips, some tears of pleasure running through your cheeks, and a sloppy smile plastered across your face. You feel absolutely lightheaded, almost drunk with ecstasy. “Putain, j'aime quand tu me regardes comme ça” he said, French escaping his lips as he loses all capacity to form coherent thoughts. This just made your pulse quicken, your skin bursting with fulfillment.

His pace fastened even more, as he grunted and throbbed with how good he felt inside you. “Your cunt feels so fucking good” he kept repeating, his eyebrows furrowed as if attempting to delay his orgasm. “Charles, I- I’m gonna cum” you try telling him, between breaths and moans. “Fuck, fuck, look at me” he demanded, holding your face so it wouldn’t move away from his gaze. With that, you erupted in pleasure, completely undone beneath him, body trembling.

The view was so overwhelming, Charles couldn’t help but come as well, filling you up with fervent ardor, his body falling limply on top of yours. He remained there, his breathing uneven and erratic, just like yours.

You both lost track of time as you lay there, together. You could have fallen asleep like that, maybe you had, there was no way to tell. He felt warm and comfortable against you, and you felt so close and secure to him that neither of you dared to move.

After a while, his fingers starting drawing small, invisible designs on your still sensitive skin, causing you to giggle. For some time, you two just existed together with nothing else retraining your behavior, your own hands playing with his soft hair, a tired smile on his face.

You wake up with light filling your living room, giving you momentary blindness. The headache was done with its threat to show up, now attacking you with full force, limiting your movements and thoughts. Despite everything, you remembered the night before. Even if you did not, there was evidence that something had happened – or, better, there wasn’t any, and that’s what caught your attention.

The living room was pristine and looked untouched. You were fully dressed in some comfortable clothes, and the TV was on despite the fact that its volume was almost fully off. It seemed as if this was an ordinary day, but you knew it wasn’t.

You grabbed your phone and stared at its screen empty of any sort of texts, notifications or messages. Nothing to prove the night before. You knew it was a mistake to do so, but you couldn’t help typing out the text:

To: Charles (Asshole) Hey, got home safe? (11:33am)

All you got back was a small text underneath yours, which said “Read (11:47)”

#please dont be hard on me ive never tried this before #im sensitive #sort of enemies to lovers #enemies to lovers #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc smut #smut with a bit of plot #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 x you

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ratfish-blues · 1 year

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Actually, this deserves its own post because the way Abbott Elementary handled Melissa's character in this episode is genuinely some of the best dyslexia representation I have ever seen on TV.

She's not a little kid who overcomes her disability as an adult. Her dyslexia doesn't give her superpowers (weirdly common trope). She isn't portrayed as stupid by the show or the other characters because of it. She's a competent adult who has developed coping mechanisms to deal with her disability and is still shown to struggle sometimes despite that! Oh my god is that refreshing!

Also, Melissa being competitive about the reading challenge and Barbra's comment about how good she is at engaging kids in reading is totally recontextualized by the reveal that she has a learning disability and especially the reveal that she was probably teased for her LD as a kid (which I'm also so happy that they brought up - I don't think most people realize how competitive elementary schools tend to make reading, and how shitty and ostracizing that can be for kids who struggle with it). Winning the book challenge is important to her because it's something she used to really struggle with. She's good at getting kids to read because she can relate to their challenges in a personal way. They directly tie her LD to her strengths as a teacher without it being fantastical or over-emphasized and I can't even begin to tell you how much I love it!

The bit at the end where she says "you know how sometimes I have to read things a few times" to Janine, in the break room with no students present is also a great scene because it shows her LD in an adult, professional context. It's a conversation that I, and every dyslexic person I know, has had with their co-workers at some point. I just love that they make a point of normalizing her LD in an adult workplace setting that's separate from the classroom and away from the kids.

This season has done an awesome job talking about disability generally but the choice to give not just a student, but one of the teachers an LD was an absolutely perfect move. I really hope this gets brought up in later episodes and isn't just a one-off.

#abbott elementary #melissa schemmenti #dyslexia #disability representation #Quinta must have taken the time to higher and work with a sensitivity reader for this episode and bless her for it #I truly expect so little from dyslexia rep at this point #it was amazing to see it handled so well here

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morgana-ren · 7 months

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I DONT KNOW IF YOU WRITE FULL FICS BUT IF YOU DO PLEASE WIRTE ONE ABOUT TGAT LAST ASK.

Just about Astarion sitting in his throne of sorts, in the palace, with tav sitting in his lap. He’s bored, tav sits there- dissociating and wishing they were anywhere else. He asks them if they’d like to do something fun and they say something like “Only if you do my lord” and he saddens some, expecting them to come up with something fun like they used to but they can’t think of anything that he would approve of them doing after so many years of breaking them down and he realizes it’s gotten so dull because tav was the person that brightened his life

"Awfully dull today, hmm? How would you like to do something fun, my love?"

It's an oh-so rare quiet day in the Crimson Palace, and his favorite source of amusement sits placidly on his lap, silent as the grave and still atop him. Content as he is in the peaceful quiet with solely her company, he'd spend the day with her doing– well, something, surely. It’s been a while since they’ve had any time to themselves to truly enjoy each other’s company alone. In fact, he cannot recall the last time with any distinct accuracy.

It seems so terribly long since they've had any time to themselves. Being a Lord keeps you awfully busy.

In a tender moment, he reaches forward to brush a stray strand of hair out of her face and behind her ear with a long, pale finger. She doesn’t react save a slight instinctual flicker of her lashes. Not a hint of expression on her face. He expects her to lean into his touch as she used to and is almost shocked when she does not.

Odd, he thinks. She hardly even seems to notice anything at all.

It’s almost like she isn’t entirely present.

Still, before he can chastise her, she responds to his bid for her attention.

"If that is your wish, my lord,” She responds to his question, lifeless and monotone. Perfectly obedient, just as befits her, and yet—

He frowns, just a little. It irks him, but now that he thinks about it, he cannot recall the last time he saw enthusiasm on her face– or much of anything at all aside from the blank, hollow mask she has now. Completely impassive and unresponsive in a cruel sort of practiced indifference.

He studies her for a moment and comes to the conclusion that it reminds him of the robots they found in that strange tower in the Underdark so long ago. Programmed to respond to the right things and make the right moves, but utterly incapable of acting on her own whims. Eternally awaiting instruction.

Empty. Robotic. Precise and yet disingenuous somehow. Eerily so.

Has she been like this before? Has he simply not noticed?

Perhaps she just needs to awaken a little more. It was such a long night, and he had kept her remarkably busy. She must be exhausted, but surely, she will perk up. She always does.

Doesn’t she?

“Come, darling. What would you like to do?” He jostles his knees, dandling her on his legs like one might a small, particularly grumpy child. She bumps up and down, only reaching to steady herself on the sides of his throne.

“Whatever would please you would please me, my lord.”

He groans, rolling his red eyes, a very sudden burst of irritation bubbling in his gut. Always with the My lord, My lord, scraping and bowing like some sort of indentured serf. Proper respect is important, of course, but for the first time in a while— longer than he can honestly think back on, to be honest— they are entirely alone. He is her Lord, yes, but she knew him by another name once– did know him by another name. She knows better than to tease him in front of his vassals but surely—

He can’t remember the last time she said his name.

His real name.

How long since he has truly sat by her side and talked with her? Spent time with her? He's been so busy, laying plans and waste, conquering and shedding blood of those who oppose him. The Lord Tyrant, come to rule over his dominion of Eternal Night. She is always by his side, never straying and yet—

(“I love you, Little Star,” She’d laugh, planting a chaste kiss on the tip of his nose, which would promptly crinkle in annoyance.

“I’m not ‘Little Star,’ and I’ll never understand why you insist on calling me that.”

“That’s what your name means, doesn’t it? Little Star? Or perhaps Little Starlight– I don’t really remember.”

“Then why make that my pet name?" He rolls his eyes, annoyed at the use of his own childish moniker that follows him like a shadow to anyone who speaks even a lick of his native language. "Of all the things your brilliant little mind can concoct, you give me a child’s handle? I’m strong, dashing, capable, handsome, fearsome– but instead you choose that absurdity”

“Because you’re my little star!” And she would smile so brightly that it seemed impossible in the darkness, and he could not help but smile himself. “My light in the darkness. My Astarion, for as long as you want to be. And I love you.”

His expression would soften once again and he would simply sigh, pulling her close to kiss her temple. The night was cold, but she was so impossibly warm against him, somehow fitting perfectly in his lap and into his heart, where she’d wormed her way in against his own will. The dim firelight reflects in her eyes as she tells him again that she loves him forever if he’ll have her, and he can think of nothing he’d desire more than to ride out the endless night of eternity with her here on his lap, cradled close.)

Something gnaws at him. Something raw and edged with a vicious sort of misery he’d done so well to avoid in ages. He cannot place it but as he looks at her, his stomach is as a dark, abyssal pit, circling and swelling like a maelstrom.

Something is wrong.

He cannot place the negative emotion, and so he does as he always does now, making the strange yearning her responsibility to soothe.

He lashes out at her.

“I’m growing bored,” He says with a cold, cruel edge to his voice. “You know how much I dislike boredom, don't you, darling?"

What he seeks is a reaction. A sudden spark of life from within her. For her to grab his hand and take him to do— to do something. Surely—

And yet, with a motion so fluid that it implies an aged and practiced skill, she slides from his lap down to her knees before him, reaching towards the laces of his breeches. There is nothing behind her eyes as she extends her hand forward to unlace him, hardly even seeing him. Nothing at all.

“What are you doing?” He slaps her hands away, scowling down at her, taken back by her brashness.

“You said you were bored, my Lord.”

“And why would you think–”

Because that is what he’d taught her.

That her body was built for his amusement; his temple to defile at will. Because of the cold nights in the castle after so many years where he would reach for her, and she would quiver and shake her head with eyes rimmed red and puffy and beg to be left untouched and yet he would speak the words without thinking and she would bend for him any way he wished.

Because even as she would obey, she would cry and turn away, and he would give it little thought until one night the crying and protesting simply stopped. He thought she had learned. Made peace with her duties and loyalty to him and what it entailed. Mayhaps she had come to realize that her theatrics had little impact on him and surely, he wasn’t so wretched to her now that these waterworks were necessary. His touch could not repulse her so that her weeping was remotely acceptable. She loves him, surely she—

Because he would command her until she would kneel, and so now, she kneels without command.

He sighs, breathing the fire from his lungs, reaching down to pull her back up into his lap. She does not respond, only obeys in kind to his guiding instruction as he settles her back down on his legs. He finds a semblance of patience from within himself which is a strange and unusual feeling, mustering it up to once again ask:

“My dear, what is it that you would like to do?”

Her head cocks. She does not understand.

"What would you enjoy? If you had the freedom to do anything, what might it be?"

It takes a moment, but for the first time, a reaction: Confusion. It is slow to take hold but becomes blaringly apparent as it does. It is not as if she doesn’t know the answer, but almost as if she doesn’t understand the question.

“Whatever you would like to do, my Lo–”

“No, no, darling. What is it you would like to do?” He impresses, harsher this time, and she flinches, recoiling from… something.

From him.

If her heart was still capable of beating, he'd be able to hear the way it pumps into overdrive. As it stands, he cannot, but he is aware no less. Her scent changes entirely around him to something that has his brows furrowing. Shortness of breath, dilating pupils, hands beginning to quake— Adrenaline. Steel-edged anxiety. As if this is not a question at all, but rather a test and she does not know the answer, and failure means his displeasure and his displeasure means–

"I— What would you—" She hard-swallows, harrowed by the open-endedness of the question. "—I want what—"

("Come to the meadow with me, Asto," She would grab his hand with a mischievous smile when their compatriots were fast asleep, tugging him up from the comfort of his bedroll. "I want you to come with me."

"It's late, darling. Wouldn't you rather come here and lie with me?" He would try to tug her back down playfully, but would fall against her aggressive temerity, being pulled to his feet through her sheer will. She would stifle her giggling with a hand as she guided him past their slumbering companions, through the tree line and deep into the forest.

"Come on, lazy boy, come! Come with me!"

"Well, I'm trying to—"

She would hush him and yank him by the wrist, out into the field where he'd first had her, down once more into a bed of wildflowers and long grass. Her melodic laugh like a strange song as she yanks him to the ground despite his weak protests until she would lie her head on his chest and trace gentle patterns on his white shirt against his flexed chest.

"We don't have to come all the way out here to make love, darling—" He would move to try to kiss her, but she would adamantly press her head against his torso, insisting he stay down in the dirt with her.

"I'm not trying to seduce you," She would giggle, pointing at the star-spangled sky. "I want to lie under the stars with you."

"But… why?"

"Because I know we'll have eternity to do it, but it's my favorite moon tonight and it reminded me of you."

He squints, struggling to find anything different about it at all. "I don't notice anything, darling. It looks very much like the moon we see every night."

"It's so full and bright! Look at the rays!" She holds her hand out as if to cradle a silvery moonbeam in her palm. "It reminds me of the color of your hair."

She reaches over him to delicately pluck something from the grass, tucking it gingerly behind his ear after she does so. "These poppies are the same beautiful deep red of your eyes in the moonlight. I feel safe here; home, with you. I just wanted to enjoy it for a moment. Just the two of us."

He would wrap his arms around her waist, squeezing so tightly that she would gasp and worm about, trying to return the favor, and yet he would not relent.

"I want you to feel safe with me," he would whisper into her hair, desperately trying to memorize the scent of it, as if expecting Bhaal himself to come and steal her from his frantic embrace. "Now and forever, I want to feel home in your arms, with you.")

He thinks, for a moment, to return to that meadow, and that perhaps his love— the one he remembers— will return to him. As if her ghost still lingers there, trapped and waiting to be rescued.

He can’t.

It is not a meadow any longer, but a battlefield, not unlike the vile destruction left in Ketheric's wake at Raithewait; another one in a million places sacrificed in his conquest for glory, littered with bodies and bones. A graveyard tribute to his power, scorched soil and dead grass. No flowers bloom there anymore— there is nowhere for them to bloom between the suffocating aura of death.

All that is left is a beautiful memory buried beneath a river of dried blood, and you cannot water flowers with dried blood or wean them on bone dust. That meadow is one moment suspended in time as trapped in amber, impossible to claw free from its temporal prison. He cannot remember the last time he saw that jovial smile she had saved just for him in that damned meadow.

He cannot recall the last time she said the words "I love you" and cried his name as a preternaturally beautiful siren song without being commanded.

He frowns, feeling something strange and haunting in his chest. Something viciously clawing up his throat as he looks at her: at her empty red eyes that were once the most beautiful color, full of love and life when she looked upon him; at her contorted expression that used to be as radiant as the sun and he could have sworn that her light could have sustained him through the dark, miserable nights of his eternal curse if only she was by his side; at the frailty of her body that almost seems to creak and break beneath his weight.

"My love, look at me."

And she does, if not by command, then by instinct.

"Smile for me, will you? Can you do that for me?"

And she does, her lips turning upward and raising to reveal two sharp teeth— and nothing more. It's uncanny and revolting and wrong. There is nothing behind her eyes, nothing at all. No light, no life, and certainly no love.

He used to be able to see himself in her eyes. How her heart sang for him, cheeks blossoming with blood at the sight of him. He could hear her heart rabbit behind her ribs, her hands quaking with excitement to touch him even in the most innocent of ways. Through her eyes, he found his own value— his own worth— and finally began to understand that he deserved love; he deserved happiness. She had healed him, giving almost all of herself to do it, selflessly and without asking for anything in return even as he despised himself and refused his own agency—

And she stares at him now with soulless eyes, he is left to wonder if he has taken too much from her in his quest to take everything. Wonders if she will ever be that lovestruck, moon-eyed girl again, wanting nothing more than to lie under the moonlit meadow with him. If she will ever kiss his eyelids as a delicate butterfly and whisper eternity in his ear. If she will ever feel safe and home and loved around him again in his embrace–

Save she is no longer quaking with anticipation at his touch, but trembling from fear, lost and terrified at the posing of a simple question. Her scent is foreign even as it is familiar and he cannot recall when it began to change. There is something in her eyes that haunts him, and though he can see himself within him, what stares back is not him. A terrible realization rakes knives down his soul, a gaping maw threatening to swallow him whole. A tightening in his lungs, and even as he does not breathe, he does not believe he could even if he tried.

“Darling?”

“Yes, my Lord?”

Her face is impassive once more. Perfect porcelain expression. Not a crack in the mask. Not a wrinkle in the facade. Practiced day in and day out until it becomes real. He remembers it well.

How long has it been? How long since he has looked at her? Truly looked at her? Spoken to her? Told her he loved her?

Showed her he loves her?

When was the last day he did not command from her that which she begged not to willingly give?

He cannot remember. He cannot recall.

He demanded and she had no choice but to give. More and more and more. He drained her dry and now where was once his sacred oasis, there is nothing at all. No matter how long he looks, there is never a flicker of anything in her glassy eyes.

He wonders if even as he has gotten everything he has ever wanted, he lost the one thing he needed.

It paralyzes him. For the first time in an ageless eternity, he feels something: Panic.

Even his endless power cannot bring her back. His beloved is dead, and he has killed her. Upon him sits a pretty corpse, empty and devoid of all that made her her. A doll with her face. A doll with barely even that.

Her laugh, her smile. Her passion and desire and love. The tenderness inside of her and the warmth she once held. Everything that pulled him from his shell and showed him how to love once more. He bloomed in her light– and then snuffed it out entirely.

How long has it been? How long has she been gone?

Though she may be undying, he realizes with horror akin to a dawning sun that she is gone– and has been for some time.

“You seem stressed, my Lord? How can I make you happy again?”

Second part of the story HERE

#morgana and friends #astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #literally whatever you want it to be #very bad implications here do not read if sensitive #bad mean astarion #sort of #lots of mistakes here fellas #i TOLD yall i was having a tough time writing #this needed more time and work but man I just CANNOT focus #you get the gist right #this needed more detail and to be longer but i was struggling here #god i need medicine or something #one down about 399 more to go lmao

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