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#sure it wouldn’t solve all of his problems BUT
calaisreno · 14 hours
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Cake
1146 words / Prompt: Laugh
Have some cake. It's my birthday.
Sherlock picks up his fork and examines the slice of cake before him. It’s yellow, with thick white icing and colourful sprinkles. 
John and Molly have already tasted their pieces and are talking about something. John makes a teasing remark about hearing aids. Apparently Sherlock has missed the question.
“Hm?”
John smiles at him. It’s a fond smile, but a sad one. Sherlock tries to remember the last time John looked happy. It’s been ages, he thinks. Even the smile on his face now isn’t truly happy. 
His wedding, maybe. He did smile a lot that day, but there was something ragged underneath. A kind of exhausted cheer. The days leading up the event were hectic, but it was worth it to give John and Mary a joyous day. Maybe it was relief Sherlock saw in those wedding smiles. Glad to have the big day go well, ready to wake up to a new life. 
The day Rosie was born, John’s smile was incredulous, full of wonder. But Sherlock could see he was terrified, too. It was the day it all became real, irrevocable. There was no going back for him and Mary. Nor for Sherlock. John was a father, and had responsibilities.
Unmingled joy. That’s what Sherlock is trying to remember. 
That was the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever done.
And you invaded Afghanistan.
It was the first time he heard John helpless with laughter. They’d stood inside the front door, leaning against the wall, giggling at the ridiculousness of what they’d just done, running through alleys and across rooftops. Welcome to London.
It was the moment when he first realised he wanted to kiss John. He wanted to hear that giggle of surrender again. To laugh every day with John and keep him forever.
It might have lasted, if Sherlock hadn’t created a problem that could only be solved by dying, leaving John alone for two years. 
He’d dreamed of coming home, hearing John laugh at his brilliant resurrection. He’d been so intent on that, he hadn’t realised. It may have been necessary to go away, but his return wasn’t as brilliant as he’d dreamed.
Well, then. Neither of them has been happy.
“You haven’t even tasted it,” John is saying. 
“Oh.” He lifts a bite to his mouth, smells vanilla, feels the icing melt on his tongue. “Delicious.” It is, and he takes another bite, even though he’s not hungry. 
John is smiling at him. 
He can’t stop thinking about John’s tears, just a half an hour ago in the flat. 
I’m not the man you thought I was. 
It’s not okay.
Well, it is what it is. John hasn’t been happy for a long time, he thinks. 
Though they never spoke of it, he knows John had mixed feelings about the marriage. A part of him loved Mary, but even though he forgave her, he never forgot:  what have I ever done… my whole life… to deserve you?
Mary wasn’t supposed to be like that. But she was. 
Sherlock wasn’t supposed to come back, but he did. 
John was supposed to be happy. He wasn’t.
Sometimes he thinks John might have been happy if Sherlock had stayed dead. He would have got over his best friend dying in front of him. He would have married and lived in the suburbs with his wife and child. His wife wouldn’t have shot Sherlock, and she wouldn’t have died, trying to protect him. He wouldn’t be raising his child alone. 
He eats his cake silently, pressing his fork into the last crumbs. 
“You’ve been quiet,” John says as they walk back to 221B. 
“Hm.” 
“About earlier… I’m sorry.” He huffs a small laugh. “Mood killer, for sure.”
He stops walking. “John.”
John is two paces ahead by the time Sherlock says his name. He turns and looks at Sherlock, puzzled. “What is it?”
“Are you happy?”
“Am I happy?” He gives a short, bitter laugh. “What does happiness have to do with anything? Are you happy?”
“Well, no one can be happy all the time. But I consider myself an optimistic person. I expect I will be happy again.”
“Are you…” John licks his lips. “Will you contact her?”
“No. She knows what I am, and doesn’t expect it.”
“Sherlock, I know I was pushing when I said you should… I mean, it’s okay if you don’t want that. I just wish you weren’t so alone.”
“Not so alone. I have you.” 
Sherlock resumes walking; John falls into step with him.
“Yeah, a great friend I’ve been.”
“You’re not perfect, John. Neither am I. You shouldn’t hold yourself to an impossibly high standard. Happiness is more important. Do you know,” he says, turning to look at John, “some of my happiest moments have been spent with you.”
John sighs. “We’ve had some good times. I’ll never forget the months we lived together. You saved me. I was so lost, so alone…” Glancing at Sherlock, he smiles wistfully. “Do you remember that night, when we were chasing the cab, and I forgot my cane at the restaurant?” He giggles. “Oh, God. Down alleys, across the rooftops. Welcome to London. That was the most ridiculous thing I’d ever done.”
Sherlock smiles. “Wanna see some more?”
“What are you saying?” John halts. 
Sherlock turns and faces him. “Come back. Move in with me, you and Rosie.”
John is gazing at him, his eyes soft. “Do you know what I wished for that night?”
“What did you wish, John?”
He looks down at his feet. “I wished… that I could spend the rest of my days running after you, trying to keep up. Giggling at crime scenes, running all over London, coming home and sitting in the evenings…” He sighs. “It can’t be like it was before. I have a child.”
“Another adventure I look forward to. We’ll hire a nanny, solve all the boring cases, and you’ll write them up for the blog. We’ll be together.” He puts his hands on John’s shoulders. “Come back to me.”
John shakes his head gravely. “You don’t know what you’re asking. Rosie’s a baby, and soon she’ll be toddling around, getting into everything.”
“That’s what babies do. They grow into children, and eventually leave home. And you’ll miss her then. I want to see her grow up, too. I want to be there when you send her off to uni. I want to help plan her wedding, hold your first grandchild. I want to retire to a cottage in Sussex with you and keep bees.”
“Bees?”
“Yes, John. Do keep up. If you don’t like bees, you ought to have plenty of cases to write up by then.”
John brushes tears from his eyes. “What are you saying?”
In answer, he puts his arms around John. “You said love would complete me as a human being. I’m saying, it already has.”
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maysrinn · 2 days
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Clemmie is any universe:
Clementine: I AM THE MOST IMPORTANT PERSON HERE AND THE CENTER OF ALL OF YOUR UNIVERSES PAY ATTENTION TO ME!
Coriolanus: Where does she get this from?
Lucy Gray, Tigris, Sejanus and literally everyone side-eying him hard.
To be fair, yes, that mischievous Clementine seems to be a constant across all universes. However, as she matures and with each new sibling that arrives, she gradually discovers that she can push the boundaries further, taking advantage of her parents' preoccupation with her growing flock of siblings. XD
I’m always contemplating the potential path Clementine could have tread as the heiress of the esteemed snow legacy in the Capitol AU, one can't help but wonder: if Rosie is considered spoiled, what level of indulgence would Clementine, as the premier little devil princess, have experienced? The thought of her being pampered to the extent of being spoiled beyond compare, with luxury stretching all over the districts and back, is not far-fetched. There's a chance Clementine could have surpassed previous levels of indulgence and or entitlement, but let's not forget, she's still just a child 💕
Also yes she definitely got that from her father while her little temper tantrums may seem to come more from momma XD
_______
Little fun fact
Whenever Clementine was denied attention, she would instinctively climb her father like a tree, grasping at his nonexistent hair until she successfully demanded his undivided attention. Lucy Gray, on the other hand, tended to observe rather than assist in these scenarios. Even when Clementine's actions were unreasonable, Lucy gray found her inventive problem-solving methods amusing and would watch a bit before intervening or breaking them off.
Lucy Gray: what are you doing little bug?
Clementine: daddy inst paying attention, he just readin’ and witting!!
Lucy gray: it’s “writing” baby
Clementine: …I want to show him the pwetty fweathers!
Lucy Gray: he has to work darlin’…surely he will… come by… Clementine Auburn where are you waddlin’ off to now?
Clementine: I need to put them in his hair!!!
Lucy Gray: …I wouldn’t call what he has hair
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wherenymphsroam · 6 months
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it’s funny because I Understand pussy is the last thing this guy needs but ….. come on
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cherrymoon4 · 2 months
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Suguru hates the taste of curses. He hates the aftertaste that persists in his mouth, that doesn’t leave no matter how hard he brushes his teeth or how much sickening sweet candy Satoru gives him.
Even when hours pass, no matter how many boiling hot showers he takes, nothing takes away the disgusting feeling that swallowing down curse after curse brings.
He has tried everything, every single thing that comes to mind to not have the aftertaste of a vomit soaked rag stuck to him for hours.
But nothing works, he is sure of that, he reminds himself as he leans over the bathroom sink, trying not to throw up after another “successful” mission and another curse swallowed.
As he takes deep breaths, trying to come up with something, anything, that could help him, he hears a knock on the door, followed by your gentle voice asking if he’s okay.
He’s always seen you as one of his closest friends, the one that is there for when he feels like no one can help him; when he knows Shoko is too busy with her own shit, and Satoru could only try to come up with a joke and probably wouldn’t take him seriously, he knows that the one he can always turn to is you.
Soft, sweet little you. Too kind for your own good, with a heart too big for your petite form. So selfless, always worrying over ‘Sugu’ even when he doesn’t deserve it, even when he pushes you away, not wanting to stain your pure self.
Just like right now, as he contemplates whether to let you in or tell you to leave. He pictures your pretty face in his mind, how it probably is adorned with worry and concern, your doe eyes big and glassy.
His heart clenches at the thought of you walking away all sad after he told you to leave. He can’t bring himself to push you away.
So he tells you come in, he just wanted to reassure you after all. But when he sees you coming in and rushing to check him over for any injuries, clad in your fluffy pajamas and fuzzy socks, his mind fills with images of him doing everything but reassuring you.
And that’s how he discovers that there is, in fact, something that can help him out.
He knows that this is all he needs, your pretty cunt in his face is where he belongs.
Your plushy thighs around his head and your sweet juices smeared on his cheeks are just what he needs to forget everything about curses and the awful feeling that they leave him with.
He reprimands you for keeping your heavenly pussy from him all this time; how could you be so selfish :(
He laps at your folds like a starved man, moaning in your cunt like he’s the one getting eaten out. And he’s so messy too! After all, how could he not be when he finally found the perfect treat to solve his problem?
“Fuck sweetheart, you’re such a messy girl mh?” he grunts, like he’s not the one turning his head side to side to smear your juices all over his face.
“This pretty pussy loves me so much, doesn’t she? Gushin’ around my tongue like that, bet it wants me to fill her up too..” he says as he toys with your puffy pussy and swollen clit, looking up to see you all dumb and stupid, babbling something about how it’s “t-too much!”.
But you clearly don’t know what you need, not when your hole keeps getting wetter and wetter.
“It’s not too much, silly girl. You can take it, I know you can. You want your Sugu’ to be happy, don’t you baby? You wanna be my good girl, yeah?”
And how can you deny him? You do want to be his good girl, his best girl!
So you spread your legs wider for him and let him lap at your messy hole, and you don’t even complain when you feel his thick cock prodding at your entrance, stretching your pussy nice and full :3
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hello ^^ ( thank you sososo much for the love on the other posts! send me requests if you want :P )
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mediacircuspod · 10 months
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This scene was absolutely beautiful BUT it’s also the crux of the issue. You guys this is where the problems start. Because—because Crowley’s already cast out, he finds COMFORT in the idea that they are lonely together. “As far as he can” becoming “as far as they can” is an END to his complete “otherness” and something to appreciate, to covet, and to find solace in. He’s finally not alone.
But—and this is important.
Aziraphale does NOT feel that. He can’t.
This moment is completely and utterly devastating for Zira. He finds out he’s not damned and sure, he’s relieved. But he’s no longer “an Angel” in the way that he’s learned is right. He’s now unchangeably and forever; less holy—a concept that is dearly important to his identity. “[Going] along with heaven as far as he can” is a FAILING on his part. Not heaven’s(at least to him). There is no solace or comfort—he finds existence like that—just the two of them—achingly LONELY. And that’s just how his perspective demands to be taken. It’s the only perspective he is capable of in that moment AND after it, too.
Take into account Crowley has went from having no one AT ALL to having SOMEONE. And he puts EVERYTHING he has into it. This is not good. It’s unfair to Aziraphale. And it’s unfair to himself. On the opposite side, you have Aziraphale. Who has just went from having the ENTIRE HEAVENLY HOST, to having this SINGLE demon— who, one minute ago, Aziraphale thought would be dragging him off to hell.
And the part that aches is that this perspective hasn’t changed. Aziraphale feels like his existence is lacking because he wants so badly to be GOOD. And good is Holy. Good is heavenly. He’s the problem for having morals that are misaligned.
Spoilers for the last episode:
Aziraphale has just been given the validation that he is not only GOOD but the most HEAVENLY Angel there is, the Supreme Archangel, even. And if heavens morals are now HIS morals, then that’s EVERY PROBLEM SOLVED. With a bow even, because Crowley’s basically on heavens side anyway, he’s GOOD, isn’t he? He’s been good this whole time, so why wouldn’t heaven want him back? Reinstating him as Angel would fix everything. They can be together, and they can be good, and they can be HOLY. All Aziraphale’s conflicting emotions about loving Crowley can be packed away because Crowley will be perfect again—and surely Crowley wants to be perfect—wants to be forgiven.(sorry everyone, that hurt me too, oof) Aziraphale is SHOCKED by Crowley’s refusal. He’s devastated that his version of perfect is treated as something naive and distasteful.
Crowley’s devastated too. He’s just lost “their side”. A concept that for 5000+ years has been THE ONLY THING he puts love into besides his car and perhaps his plants(And humanity, but he’ll never admit to that—I’m looking at the “No more dying” scene). Crowley is constantly being devastated by Aziraphale. He’s “too fast”, he’s too evil, he’s too good sometimes. Crowley has always been TOO MUCH. But this is different because for four years, he’s had “them”(on their own side) without the hiding, and without the denial and without Aziraphale constantly putting former jobs between them. PLUS he has a mountain of trauma centered around the concept of “forgiveness”, so that’s not great considering Aziraphale’s last words to him(THAT HE HASNT SAID ALL SEASON EVEN WHEN HE MADE CROWLEY APOLOGIZE IN THE FIRST EPISODE, AHHHHH). He’s losing everything and he’s desperate: Why isn’t he enough, hasn’t he been enough these last 4 years? Hasn’t HE been enough the last 6000?
Aziraphale has always been enough for Crowley. But being enough for Crowley doesn’t fix how Aziraphale has never been enough for himself, not since Job. He looks at this offer as a chance for HIM to be enough, and for Crowley to be FORGIVEN. Crowley looks at it as a betrayal because it’s Aziraphale saying Crowley ISNT enough, and he NEVER has been.
But that’s not what Aziraphale is saying. He’s saying, “Let me fix it for you”. Crowley is hearing, “Let me fix you for it.” Two completely different and completely horrifying concepts.
And then Crowley needs to say HIS piece(oh my gosh, btw, this was heartbreaking).
“Let’s be together on our terms” is basically what I’ve distilled it down to. But Aziraphale hears, “Let’s run away from our problems”
Aziraphale doesn’t want to run away, and Crowley doesn’t want to change who he is.
They both want to be together so badly but they don’t understand why they each want it so differently. And Aziraphale can’t compromise because he’s brainwashed and LOATHES himself. And Crowley can’t compromise because he’s traumatized and LOVES Aziraphale just as he is. Crowley doesn’t want to be good on heavens terms. He can see Heaven for what it is; “toxic”. He hates heaven not only for what the Host did to him, but for HOW THEY TREATED Aziraphale.
They both don’t understand each other because for all the pleading and presenting and monologuing, they never once in that whole conversation, actually talked.
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ew-selfish-art · 8 months
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DpxDc AU: Tim as a child was never given a lot of information regarding the scribbling messy handwriting that appeared over night all over his arms- naturally he came to his own conclusions.
Tim Drake was home entirely alone at 9 years old and was about to go out for the night to test his brand new long exposure camera lens when he sees the writing on his arm. It’s not English, like he assumed it was at first, but it was using the alphabet to represent… Tim isn’t bad at math but this formula is complex for his little genius brain.
Looking at his camera, he decides he can spare a moment to look it up, solve it, and get back out into old town Gotham in time for Batman and Robin’s final patrol lap. He does just that, finding the problem to relate to some aerospace engineering and then quickly deduces what laws and theorems need to be applied. He finds a pen, writes down his findings in much neater handwriting onto his arm, and goes out. It’s barely a remarkable night at all. He gets a much more memorable photo of Robin roundhouse kicking a hench person.
Things just continued on that way. Tim would find some complex math, physics or chemistry prompt on his arm (surrounded by various question marks or notes or sad faces)- he’d answer it as best he could and move on with his life. Perhaps his parents were manifesting these pop quizzes? Perhaps his subconscious felt guilty about abandoning his studies for more Bat related pursuits? Tim really didn’t care to think much about it once he became Robin- there was too much on his plate and too many peoples problems for him to fix.
Notably, however, after the attack at the Tower, the pop quiz appeared and Tim wrote back that he wouldn’t be able to find an answer to this one. It was the only time Tim questioned the markings appearance and it was because the next thing that appeared was “Hope you feel better soon.”
… his parents wouldn’t include that on a pop quiz. Cursed then. Tim decided it must be a curse, whatever, he’d deal with the implications later in life.
Tim then has the worst year of his life, hes 15, no longer Robin and the questions from his curse are getting less math oriented and more… philosophical. A lot of mentions of death that, in hindsight helped him actually grieve, and a lot of theories about dark matter and souls. Tim answers back as best he can but he’s drained and his answers aren’t very good in his opinion. He gets minimal feedback.
It all comes to a point that he’s at a family dinner, Bruce is at the head of the table, Jason has promised just to stay for dessert, Damian hasn’t thrown a single insult his way and Steph was laughing at him- when a new theoretical model appears on his arm.
“You’re just as bad as Bruce, Timberly. Hiding a soulmate from all of us, how fucking typical.” Jason points out, while watching Tim scribble back some math with a question mark onto his arm.
“A what? No, this is just a curse. I get pop quizzes every now and then.” Tim bats away Steph who rapidly approaches and began to analyze his arm (the rest of the family isn’t far behind).
“Drake. Explain how you came to this conclusion.” Damian seems more curious than anything, if his lack of insults was anything to go off of.
“Since I was young I’ve had at least weekly math check ins, I never had a parent or anyone else around so I assumed my parents had me cursed to ensure I stayed on top of my studies. Sometimes it’s physics or chemistry, for a while there it was a ton of philosophy and behavioral psychology.” He shrugs his shoulders.
“Master Tim, I believe the lack of adults in your life has led you towards a false conclusion. That is most certainly a soulmate mark. The individual to whom you are responding is undoubtedly your other half.” Alfred attempts to calm the room before explaining to Tim. Tim isnt sure if he believes the butler, though Alfred only very rarely lied, so he grabs the pen once more. He writes his first question back: “Who am I to you?”
The room waits in anticipation and within moments a brand new line appears on Tim’s arm and he is vindicated: “We do math together???”
——
The reason Danny is failing English is because his built in homework helper sucks ass at metaphors and has apparently never read any classic literature. The tutor on his arm is great at puzzles and math tho.
Danny gets a reply back one night that he wasn’t expecting (Who am I to you?) and he mentions it to Jazz. Who goes insane that Danny didn’t even question it and just went with “meh, probably haunted” as his explanation for the phenomenon for all these years.
Apparently, if Jazz was right, he had a soulmate who was uh, super fucking smart. That was an overwhelming thought.
The next day Danny is in crisis mode and writes back “Wait, WHAT AM I TO YOU??? Can I help on your homework??”
Danny gets vindicated when the writing on his arm presents a shit ton of dates and information for an unsolved Gotham cold case. See, Haunted.
———
Eventually between Danny becoming the top candidate for astrophysics at Wayne Enterprises and Tim Drake being outed as having contributed tips to the GCPD that solved cold cases- they meet and realize just how dumb they’ve been.
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pinkmirth · 10 months
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i need more cowboi reiner tryna knock u up pls 🥺 👉 👈
⸻ STUFFED!
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SYNOPSIS ౨ৎ ₊ ⊹ reiner just can’t seem to control how hungry he is for you. what better way to make you his than by stuffing you full of him?
CONTAINS ౨ৎ ₊ ⊹ ( 2.5k+ words of . . . ) cowboy!reiner x fem!reader (black coded), nsfw/smut, modern au, countryside setting, established relationship, reiner has a big fat breeding kink, sex flashbacks, doggie style, standing sex, creampie, use of pet names (ex. mama, sugar, honey), reader calls reiner ‘papa’, mentions of pregnancy, lowercase intended, explicit language, minors shoo!
MY LOVE NOTE! ౨ৎ ₊ ⊹ it’s undeniable that cowboy reiner’s got a raging breeding kink. thanks so much for sending in your thoughts, my love! now here’s rei-rei bein’ a shameless feen for his pretty girl! 🎀
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reiner’s terribly distracted.
the last thing he wants to do is lay blame, but in a way, you’re the reason why. the mere thought of you is enough to make this cowboy go buckwild. rei-rei swears he usually has more self control, it’s just that you strip him of all common sense.
you, pretty little you, make him all scatterbrained. his head’s been filled with nothing but romantics and vulgarities ever since he took you on a date seven months ago. you’ve turned him into some fool in love, for goodness’ sake.
memories of last night’s escapades come to mind. his mouth practically waters when remembering your plush ass; how you tossed it onto his pelvis with an arching back and swaying tits, peering at him with the sultriest smile, not to mention those glimmering bedroom eyes of yours. he recalls having to hold you still, so you wouldn’t be able to squirm away if his pounding were to become too much. you were soft, he remembers, so soft. the flesh of your hips would squish beneath the imposing pressure of his callous fingers, digging tighter into your sides whenever you’d flutter around the girth of him. he remembers the way he came inside with a rumbly moan, leaving your pussy full and the sheets wet . . . he wants to do it all over again.
with all that’s going on in that perverse little mind of his, he can hardly bring himself to focus on feeding the cattle. the only thing that can solve his problem is its source; you. and just like that, reiner’s dropping whatever he’d been doing before. his chores can surely wait, but this surge of desire can’t be overlooked. not a thing matters as much as finding you, fucking you, filling you.
he rounds the barn, passes by the apple trees and the horse stables in search of you. his cock pulses with every step, prodding stubbornly against the soft cotton of his boxers, now smeared with sticky precum. reiner brings a hand down to provide himself some relief, palming his boner with a low grunt. he’s so fucking hard that it almost hurts. that’s what he gets for fantasizing about you for the past thirty minutes and doing nothing about it until now.
with heavy steps, reiner makes his entrance into the farmhouse and is met by the sight of you lounging in the living room. you’re seated on the floral-print recliner with your pedicured toes propped up, all nice and comfortable. you’re wearing the dainty string of pearls he bought you for your birthday earlier in the year. pride flushes throughout his chest when seeing how prettily it rests on your collarbone.
you greet your man with a glossy smile, one that makes his dick throb beneath his hay-specked coveralls. reiner wonders if you’ve taken note of just how red he looks, rosy heat scattered across his face, from the highs of his cheekbones to the tips of his ears. he can feel his skin blazing with complete and total need.
reiner elicits a weak mumble of ‘hey, sugar. . .’, a stark contrast to your tone being all light and cheery as you ramble on about the cute little mini-skirt you’re crocheting for yourself. ‘since the weather’s getting warmer,’ you chime.
reiner loves you. he really, truly does, but he simply isn’t in the headspace to pay mind to the mundane task you’re occupied with at the moment— not when he’s this close to tearing off your summer dress, bending you over, peeling himself out of his spurred boots and pumping you full of every drop of cum he has to offer. fuck, he’s breathing harder now. gradually, he feels his resolve slip.
“you alright, honey?” you set down your crocheting hook, staring up at him with big, curious eyes. your voice, soft and consoling, grounds him just a little. reiner pulls off his signature cowboy hat, sets it on the nearby coffee table, and ruffles his hair so it falls into place. “yeah, i’m just—“ a pause amidst his sigh. truthfully, he’s here because he wants to fuck you pregnant. “i wanted t’see you, is all.” he settles on saying that instead. it’s much sweeter, all the more more romantic. less fetish-y. you probably would’ve looked at him funny if he admitted to crossing the entire farm by foot just so he could fill you up.
“aw, rei! you were missin’ me?” you laugh out of flattery. oh, your reiner. he’s so sweet in his own right. your boyfriend wants to ‘see you’, as he claims, like he hadn’t woken you up with nibbles to your neck, taken a (somewhat long, fairly busy) shower with you this morning, and ate breakfast alongside you before heading off to tend to the farm. you assume he can’t help but cling to you and want more.
it’s sudden, but welcomed, how reiner closes in on you. he draws near like a magnet, until the space between you no longer exists. he’s crouching down to the level of the chair, hovering over you to press a kiss on your lips. “mhm. missed you so bad, mama,” he mumbles against your mouth. in reply, you whisper onto his lips, something about how he’s always ‘so eager.’ he leans into you, desperate for more, and the chair creaks underneath the addition of his weight. he’s a large man, anyone can tell. his brawny build and imposing height never fail to make you feel safe underneath him. 
reiner dips his head low and plants one, two, three sloppy kisses along your warm neck, and it gets you hotter than the southern heat. he leaves saliva in his wake, trailed by the lightest of bruises from his suctioning lips. he tries to undo your clothes and his, but the small space that this decade-old chair provides won’t allow for it. besides, it wouldn’t be wise of him to make you squirt on a family heirloom. “this won’t do,” he clicks his teeth, decidingly picking you up. your legs wrap around his torso like second nature, arms circled around the back of his muscular neck.
“reiii, baby wait!” you draw out the call of his name, but all it does is coax him further. can’t you tell that your voice is only making him harder? that your whines urge him to fuck you silly? 
“wait?” he reiterates, grinding up into your clothed core. you shudder upon contact. “what for?” from beneath the denim he wears, you can feel his stiffness poke against your flimsy panties. “don’t you wanna head to bed first, honey? hm?” you whine into his neck. it takes a good eight seconds for him to respond.
“uh-uh,” reiner gives you a half-hearted grunt, with his gaze fixed on your cleavage that the low neckline of your dress presents to him. obviously, he’s interested in other things. “here’s just fine, sugar.” he’s strong enough to fuck you standing up with nothing else supporting him, and you know that. he doesn’t need a goddamn mattress.
reiner’s large hands grab at your underside, using your ass as the perfect leverage to press you close to him. this is your third time fucking the week, and it’s only tuesday. you’d mention it, but he’s too busy kissing down the valley of your breasts. impatience seeps through his every movement, from how he grasps at your thighs to keep you upright, to eagerly feeling along your lower half like it’s his first time touching your body.
“slow down, rei.” begrudgingly, reiner removes his lips from your chest. he finally calms for just a moment, so that he can meet your beautiful eyes. your face has been overtaken by a subtle pout. “m’sorry, honey,” he murmurs between a deep kiss, all wet and tongue-filled. you assume that’s supposed to be his form of an apology. his toned arm re-fastens itself around your body, holding you tight, while the other bunches up your dress and pushes down his bottoms, “but i need you. so fuckin’ bad.” you could never deny him and that sweet southern drawl. he knows that his smooth mouth works magic on you— he always gets what he wants from his pretty girl. 
now freed of any confines, reiner lowers his hand to stroke at the base of his dick, tugging himself with a low hiss. involuntarily, his hips buck. “you can finish up that skirt later, hm?” he releases himself and appoints his attention to you, the pads of his fingers circling your clit in just the way you like. your head falls forward onto his broad shoulder. “hell, i’ll even buy you some o’those frilly ones at that fancy mall you like goin’ to . . .” he utters partially to you and a little to himself, still occupied with keeping pressure on your bud. by now, with your head thrown back, you’ve already forgotten what you were working on in the first place.
having done this countless times before, reiner’s quickly able to find your dripping entrance. the drag of his tip through your puffy folds causes a ‘shlck’ sound to elicit. reiner smiles to himself; you’re embarrassingly wet. your hips begin to swivel and writhe, that’s how he knows you’re getting as needy as he. choosing not to waste any more time, he pushes himself inside with one swift motion. you cry out from the stretch, already fluttering around the first few inches he gives you. so far, it's just the tip and some, but he's so wide.
“goddamnit, baby . . . i fuckin’ love this pussy,” reiner grunts through clenched teeth. he’d usually start off with a shallow thrust and ease you into it, but he isn’t feeling as patient. every thrust is fast-paced, almost rushed. the impact has you bouncing in his arms, all as he continues his unrelenting efforts.
“s’good, rei— so good,” wavering moans spill past your lips. he hisses when your manicured nails dig into the hot flesh of his firm, round biceps. you squeeze around him until his eyes go rolling back. “i know, mama. i know,” reiner whines and groans, because it’s all he can manage to do. if he was air-headed about you earlier, surely he’s braindead now. he pumps into you rapidly, restlessly, but he still finds a way to make it feel so thorough. that’s probably because he’s fucking huge; incredibly endowed, like every other big and buff part of him. with a cock this thick, how could he not strike every nerve and hit every spot? 
he rolls his hips up into you with breathtaking fervor, fucks into you until he’s balls deep within your pulsating cunt. sweat dripping down his furrowed brow, he rasps out, “can’t wait to fill you up,” sloppy kisses follow, and his tongue slides across yours as he mumbles on about cumming inside, stuffing you full, making you his. you finally know what he’s doing, you should’ve known all along— he’s going to pump his cum into you as deep as he can get it to go. thrust his seed into your pliant womb until he’s fucked a baby into you. 
the mere thought of makin’ you a mama has his head spinning. reiner’s breath catches in his throat, and your sounds heighten in pitch— the pair of you can tell that you’re bound to reach ecstasy. he squats a bit lower, goes a little faster, attempting to propel you both into your orgasms. it’s coming on like an impending wave; your belly tightens, toes curling from where your heels dig into reiner’s strong back.
he knows you’ve come undone once your smooth, ridge-like walls begin to spasm around him, to the point where he can hardly pull back or push in further. he likes to think that it’s your pretty pussy’s way of begging for his cum. still, he doesn’t let up, not until you’re thoroughly impregnated. “jus’ a lil more. hold on ‘fa me, honey, m’kay?” he pleads through throaty whimpers. weakly, you nod. the overstim makes you pant and mewl, biting onto the damp skin of his exposed jugular to try and quiet yourself.
reiner slams you down onto him, the veins in his forearms bulging as he desperately grasps onto the globes of your ass. the resounding slap of skin rings around his tingling ears, lewd sounds floating throughout the otherwise quiet farmhouse.
“g’na let papa fill you up? yeah?” you cry out a weak ‘mhm!’ along with other pleas of how much you want it; want him. his balls twitch and his abdomen goes tense. “m'close,” he gruffly whispers. you decide to spur him on: “g-gimme your babies, papa, i need it!” that’s all he needs to topple over the edge. “oh fuck, mama— m’gonnacum,” reiner’s words jumble together when he comes, coating your insides with warm globs of white. though his thighs never cease their trembling, he still maintains a steady hold on you, keeping your limp frame upright. 
reiner stays inside as a means of keeping all his seed plugged into you, just for good measure. he doubts that he’s got enough energy remaining to round up the cattle after this. his chest heaves slowly, and his hair’s a mess from all that pulling you were doing, but he’s more than satisfied. he's even got this dumb, blissed-out smile on his face to show his content. you're sure he's knocked you up thoroughly by now.
he’ll make sure to buy you a pregnancy test by next morning. 
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mymegumi · 5 months
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GROWING PAINS ෆ GOJO SATORU
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⠀ word count: 7.2k ⠀ summary: meeting up with the local college’s notorious ⠀ player, gojo satoru, for a group project, you’re shocked to ⠀ discover he’s actually a virgin and has never slept with ⠀ single soul that says they have. now, you find him endearing ⠀ and even offer to solve that pesky virginity problem for him. ⠀ warnings: afab!reader, college au, virgin!gojo, strangers to ⠀ more, corruption kink, top-esque!reader, porn w plot, ⠀ mommy kink, pet names (used by both parties ; baby), ⠀ gojo is whiney in bed, praise kink, oral (m rec), ⠀ unprotected sex, creampie, gojo is taller than reader
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this project is gonna burn in flames, and you’re determined to set the match. you don’t even know how you’re going to get anything done, since your only partner is gojo satoru—if you at least had one other partner, you think there might’ve been a sliver of hope, but no, you got unluckily stuck in the class’s only group of two. the academic gods were frowning down upon you and you don't know what you could've done to have incited such wrath.
you're sitting in the library, waiting for gojo to show up for the first meeting that you'd both scheduled and he was currently nowhere to be found. you'd been waiting almost, like, a half an hour past your scheduled time and you were beginning to feel as if you were just going to give up on this. maybe you'd just work on the project yourself and email your professor what had happened, not to throw gojo under the bus, but also for him to not take credit for your hard work.
"you're kidding." there's been a commotion happening from the front of the room, but you’ve been playing your music up a notch from where it normally was to drown out the chatter. “oh em gee, there’s no way you actually know him!”
a laugh rings out across the front of the library—all of the private and quiet study rooms on the second floor had been occupied, so you’d been forced to make-do on the first floor—and the familiarity of it makes your blood boil. turning your head infinitesimally slowly, as if the slower you move the longer you can prolonge the inevitable, you find yourself face to face with your group project partner.
gojo satoru is as he normally is—carefree and unknowing to the situation he puts his peers in when he is, assumedly, knowingly late. he stands taller than you, though by a few inches or half a foot, you’re not sure. you try not to get close enough to him to tell, honestly. his eyes are a piercing blue and whenever he has a presentation at the front of the class, you feel as if you have to look away or divert your own gaze from his. as if holding his gaze was taboo, or made you feel shy. when his hair was on the longer side, it curled around his neck in soft, subtle waves before he would crop it close to his scalp again, leaving just the top parts of his hair wispy and natural. his skin was on the paler side, too, and sometimes you had to imagine he was truly an angel put on this earth to torture you.
you didn’t necessarily not get along with him. he was, on the rare occasion the two of you needed to speak to one another, kind and courteous of you. his humor was a bit similar to yours, and he always held the door for you after class if he was in front of you, but gojo wasn’t entirely out-of-his-way nice to you. again, but neither were you towards him. you didn’t mean to actively avoid him. sometimes, if you saw him walking towards you, though, you might think to make a quick detour you wouldn’t have before.
gojo satoru had a bit of a reputation. a reputation that you’d like to avoid at all costs because it was, for lack of a better word, messy. from all of the rumors on campus, gojo liked to sleep around a little bit. more power to him, but you’d also watched guys do that in your hometown, and watched them break your best friend’s hearts. you didn’t need a guy like that to be your friend or in your life at all.
this group project, in all honesty, would be the first time you and gojo would spend more than fifteen minutes together. hopefully, just working on the project and nothing more—no talk of pussy, dick, boobs, or ass allowed. just the economic turmoil faced by the lower classes and how the corporate world dictated everything. simple and easy.
“it’s true, i swear.” gojo’s smile is bright, illuminating his face as he adjusted the bookbag on his shoulder uncomfortably—his eyes darting around the library as if looking for something. when they lock onto your figure, clad in a college sweatshirt and jeans hunched over your books, is when you realize he’s looking for you. “i’d love to tell you more about him, but i have to go work on a project. so sorry about that.”
there’s the sound of a few girls pouting because, as if it wasn’t bad enough he was causing a commotion, he was causing a commotion while surrounded by about three or four girls. gojo peels himself away, waving goodbye with a toothy smile as he walks towards you. his stride is long—stupid long legs—and he reaches you in mere seconds, towering over you as he sets his bags and laptop on the empty space in front of you.
“thank god i found you.” his voice is low, but the emotion on his face doesn’t change, continually cheerful as his words differ. “they wouldn’t stop following me when i left the coffee shop. i was on time to meet you and they couldn’t take a hint, no matter how many times i walked around center square.”
“and here i thought you just wanted to skip our study session.” it’s deadpan, the tone you normally reserve for people you find annoying and gojo satoru. somehow you’re just now realizing the two categories are the same.
“no way am i missing our study date.” he slides into his seat now, hands a flurry of pulling out papers and typing his password into his laptop and getting pens out and organizing them. it makes your head spin a little just watching him. “i had to suffer through thirty minutes of ‘geto? geto suguru? omg you know him, how do you know him?’ and i need a reward.”
now that is a lot to unpack. “gojo satoru, this is not a date.” you feel as if this is the first thing that needs to be clarified, as you don’t think you want it to be going around that you consider this a date, or even want to consider this a date. the next part you don’t want to consider is the fact that gojo, in his mind, finds hanging out with you in any sort of capacity more rewarding than being fawned over. even if it’s just for girls to say they want to get to know his best friend.
“date, shmate.” he waves a hand around, lips pursed as he turns his head away. “we’re hanging out and getting to know each other. friend date.”
“‘friend date’?” you ask incredulously, eyebrows high on your forehead as you let your mouth hang open. it’s not the idea of it that makes you feel as if he’s playing with you, but the fact he’s being so openly relaxed about it. you thought gojo satoru didn’t date, that he was only fucking people and that was it. “do you even date people?”
“if it’s the right person.” he says it with a smile, eyes shining as he lets his lashes droop a little to look at you. “i’d date anyone if i knew they were going to be just as good to me as i would to them.”
it’s in this moment, inexplicably, that you begin to realize that for all gojo satoru is cocky and undeniably charming, he has the looks to back it up. sure, you’ve looked at him before and noticed he is very attractive and can be objectively considered handsome but you’re looking at him now, really looking at him, and you can feel your heart fluttering softly. it feels like a betrayal on an instinctual level—your own body chemistry reacting positively towards gojo.
he’s tall. taller than you even sitting down, and he’s looking down at you somehow even though you’re average height and will continue to insist on being of average height until the day you die. his skin is, of course, impeccably flawless but upon closer inspection, has very few blemishes and minor scars that could be anything from cat scratches to scrapes from trees or a clumsy personality. gojo’s eyes are some of the palest blue you’ve ever seen, and under their direct scrutiny, they seem to make you feel hot under your collar. you’re not used to having his undivided attention on you, but you think you could get used to it.
“the working class mentality stems from a distinct lack of motivation to do anything other than work.” you start, eyes casting downwards as you realize you’ve just been staring at him without saying anything. your leg begins to bounce under the table with the left over anxiety you can’t manage to bottle away. “if this statement is true, why is it that the work culture is toxic then?”
“what do you mean by toxic?” the two of you flawlessly switch from teasing to seriously working and it makes you breathe a bit easier. gojo leans down a bit, left hand disappearing under the table and a second later, you can feel his hand resting a few fingers on your knee gently. it provides a sort of grounding feeling and it stills the anxious leg’s shaking. “some of the sources i was reading the other day tried to explain it, but i couldn’t quite grasp what they meant.”
and you let the academia of it all lull you into a sense of security. eventually, gojo’s hand drifts from your leg but you feel it there even after it’s withdrawn, warm and sort of calming. you know that he’s much smarter than you’ve ever given him any sort of credit for—he keeps up with you and for every challenging question you give him to work on, he gives you a mental block that you have to work on, too. it’s nice, really. nice enough that you give him your number in case he has any questions on the work the two of you had mutually agreed to work on separately.
⠀ from: gojo (o˘◡˘o) ⠀ is this that old lady w the candy?? im standing outside the ⠀ abandoned old house at the edge of the woods but i don’t ⠀ see a light on (・・;)ゞ
you laugh a little bit, eyes roving over the text gojo has sent you. when you had given him your phone to put a contact in, you hadn’t expected him to put ‘gojo (o˘◡˘o)’ as his contact name, but it bubbles a laugh out of you every time you see his notification slide onto your screen. you’re also unsurprised to know he texts with an absurd amount of emoticons—they’re oddly fitting for his personality.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ from: you ⠀⠀ oh yeah, i forgot to pay the electricity bill this month, so just come on in. don’t worry about the skeletons on ur way ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀in, they’re just for decoration
you are surprised at how easy it is to talk to gojo. even just when you were sitting at the library desk talking about the project and about random odds and ends, the conversation flowed easily. there were no lulls in the conversation where you worried about what you had to say next, or awkward silences when you thought you had something wrong. it just kept snowballing until it had been at least a few hours since the two of you had started working. you had separated with a light feeling in your chest, proven wrong about your first assessment of his character.
gojo satoru seemed to be a good man, his out of class proclivities forgotten. for now, at least.
⠀ from: gojo (o˘◡˘o) ⠀ do u rmbr that movie we were talking abt today?
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀from: you ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ bruh no fckin way ur tryna talk abt alien v pred again
⠀ from: gojo (o˘◡˘o) ITS A GOOD MOVIE I SWEAR
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀from: you ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ how good of a movie can it be man
⠀ from: gojo (o˘◡˘o) ⠀ my roommate n i r (illegally) streaming it soon tnight if u ⠀ wanna come watch. jus smth chill (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ from: you ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ is it gojo satoru chill or actually chill?
⠀ from: gojo (o˘◡˘o) ⠀ wtf does gojo satoru chill mean ( ꩜ ᯅ ꩜;)
there’s a part of you that wonders if it’s rude of you to be so blasé about his sex life, making jokes every other minute and saying them to his face, and then he makes comments like this—seemingly oblivious to his reputation and what people are saying about him. specifically what people are saying about things they do with him. you’ve heard more about gojo’s cock than you’d care to admit, but maybe the reason you agree to go over is because you’re curious. not about his cock, but about whether the rumors are true, about gojo in general.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ from: you ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ nvm. i’m down. addy?
so now, you’re at gojo and geto’s door at their dorm building, popcorn and a six pack of coca cola’s in your hand as you wait for him to open the door for you. it was an impulsive choice, since you had half a mind to just go to bed and watch anime for the rest of the night. but there’s something about his energy that made you want to hang out with him more, even if in the company of his magnanimous and heavily sought after roommate.
“yo, satoru!” you hear shouting from within, and you’re positive you can hear something falling over. “stop running. walk like a normal person.”
“don’t open the door!” it’s muffled, but you’re positive that’s what gojo’s response is. shortly after, you watch the door fling open with a breathless gojo behind it, eyes bright and smile wide. “welcome to our humble abode!”
“emphasis on humble.” geto mutters, thoroughly kicked to the side now.
the dorm apartment is nice, a simple layout of just a large living space with an open kitchen attached. there are a few doors that you can only assume lead to bedrooms and a bathroom, but the lights are all dimmed so you can’t tell bathrooms from bedroom. the living area has a couch and an arm chair surrounding a small, partially broken coffee table and entertainment center with a particularly out-of-place fancy television. there’s various odds and ends on shelves scattered around the apartment, as well as a few viney plants toppling over each shelf. a cat feeder and bowl is in the living room and you can see the tail of a sweet looking white cat every few seconds, though you never see the cat itself from where you’re standing.
you nod your head, holding out the housewarming gifts you’d brought with you. “i brought a whole box ‘cause i didn’t know if it’d be just us or more people.”
you had been expecting something of a small party, considering that geto and gojo had a reputation of being something of party animals. from your short view of the entryway, though, it seems as if it’s just the two boys and yourself.
“as if i’d invite anyone else for alien versus predator.” gojo scoffs, taking the box and ripping it open, throwing a single package of popcorn into the microwave. “you think any of the pleebs we go to school with understand the nuances and underlying themes of that masterpiece the way we would?”
“i’m still not even sure you can call alien versus predator a masterpiece, let alone say it has nuances.” you shake your head, shedding your outer layer until you’re left in your sweater and leggings. “but i’m more than happy to play devil’s advocate.”
“when was the last time i even watched alien versus predator.” geto mumbles from the arm chair in the living room, a ratty old green thing that’s covered in claw marks and has dangling strings from every angle on it. “i was probably high when i saw it, man.”
“as is the only way to see it the first time.” gojo concludes, nodding sagely as the sound of soft pops plays as background noise. “but you’re also probably bailing halfway through, aren’t you?”
the aforementioned male nods his head, bangs drooping into and then away from his face as he leans his head back onto the armchair’s back to look at his roommate. “yeah, got a study session with that hot chick from economics.”
“fuck yes, study session with that hot chick from economics!” gojo cheers, arms going up to ‘raise the roof’ and doing little spins in his spot as the microwave announces the popcorn is done. “we’ll be here, meriting the debate of alien or predator. don’t miss us too much.”
“i absolutely never miss you.”
“oh you big liar, i know it’s hard to express your feelings in front of people other than me, so i’ll excuse it for now.” the white-haired male shakes his head and pulls the popcorn out, shaking it and pulling on two corners to open the buttery goodness. “but, our guest, please feel free to sit wherever you like, except for the fire escape because it’s definitely not up to code and i can’t go to jail yet.”
“yet?” you parrot, making your way into the apartment without your shoes on and just a pair of socks, sliding slightly on the laminate flooring. “you’re leaving during alien predator? that has to be some sort of blasphemy.” you direct your last question towards geto now, sitting on the couch and crossing your legs underneath each other.
“i’m considered a heretic now.” he says, leaning over conspiratorially and cupping a hand over his mouth so gojo can’t hear it. “but he likes me too much to disown me, yet.”
“i’ve disowned you at least four times in the last week alone.” gojo says now, coming in between where you and geto had been conspiring and sits on the empty spot of the couch. he’s closer now, obviously, but gojo satoru is in your space and it gives you a second to recollect your breathing. “start the movie so you can at least watch someone die before you leave.”
gojo’s sitting close enough to you that you can feel his body heat radiating towards you now. it might be because of the cold weather outside, but you swear he’s like a radiator. geto is fiddling with the laptop connected to the television with an hdmi cord, so gojo turns to you and all of a sudden, it feels as if it’s only the two of you in the room.
“come here often?” he says while throwing popcorn in his mouth and chewing lazily. he’s got an easy going grin on his face and he leans towards you, arm resting on the back of the couch, but it feels as if he’s resting it around your shoulders.
you shrug, leaning your head back to knock against his arm gently and he tugs on a strand of your hair. it’s oddly intimate and it makes your legs tighten. “only for guys obsessed with alien versus predator, i guess.”
"thank god there's only one of those on campus." geto says it under his breath, avoiding eye contact with gojo as he wipes fake sweat from his brow. "sorry for you that it's gojo satoru."
"if i were any girl on campus, i'd be floored to know gojo likes alien versus predator." you snort, shoving a handful of popcorn in your mouth. you remember at the last second that it's rude to eat with your mouth open, so you swallow before you finish your thought. "half the campus wants to sleep with him, the other half seems to have already done it."
while it was at gojo's expense, you had imagined your joke would have merited a laugh or at least a pity chuckle, but instead, gojo and geto share a look. the charged energy that passes between the two of them isn't lost on you, but you don't know what it is that it could mean. you're worried that it means that maybe you were right on your first overall assessment of him and your avoidance of him wasn't untoward—maybe gojo satoru is just a playboy that can't take a joke.
geto shakes his head, leaning forward and pressing his palms into his thighs as he gets up, as if he were leaving a family function that's definitely gone on for too long and finally wants to go home. "well, i have to go meet up with that hot chick from econ, and maybe even learn her name. so i'm going to leave you two here to enjoy aliens and predators. i will be gone all night, do with that what you will."
the feeling of dread begins to sink into your skin. you thought gojo had invited you here tonight because the two of you had made some sort of connection that went above him wanting to sleep with you. geto's crude and offhanded remark makes it seem as if gojo had intended for you to sleep with him, and while you would've when you first came, the thought that the only reason he invited you over was to sleep with you makes you rescind the idea immediately.
you were stupid to think that maybe you could ‘figure him out’, to think that maybe things could be different than what you’d heard about.
geto's out of the door and it's shutting soundly when you turn to gojo, clear disbelief in your eyes if the apologetic hands in front of him are to mean anything.
"this isn't what you think it is." gojo says.
you seethe under your skin. "and what, pray tell, do you think i think it is?"
he gives you an awkward, fucking endearing, smile. "that i invited you over with the excuse to watch a movie but i really only wanted to fuck?"
bingo.
"is that why you invited me tonight?" your eyebrows furrow together as you begin to scooch as far into the couch arm as you can, granted it isn't very far away from gojo.
he sighs. "no, i just wanted to watch aliens versus predator with you."
"okay, so why did your roommate have to mention that he was going to be gone all night. feels a bit weird if all we're doing is watching a movie, doesn't it?" you tighten your lips into a line, raising your eyebrow and punctuating the end of your interrogation with a sharp tilt of your head.
gojo drops his gaze from yours, looking at the television where someone is getting gored by the alien. you image it's gojo in your head unapologetically. "i didn't anticipate us sleeping together, no. i might have mentioned to geto, though, that i wouldn't hate the idea of it."
"'wouldn't hate the idea of it'?" you echo, hands coming up to put air quotes around his statement. " that's fucking rich considering you fuck anything on two legs, but when it comes to sleeping with me, you would just tolerate it."
you move to get off the couch, legs unfurling from under you and your hands pressing into the soft cushiony feeling when you feel gojo's hand wrap around your bicep. "wait! that's not what i meant, i wouldn't just tolerate sleeping with you!"
"okay, so what the fuck do you mean, gojo, 'cause from where i'm standing, all i'm seeing is you being an inconsiderate asshole." you want to pull your arm from his grasp but he's got a firm hold on you—not tight enough to hurt or bruise you, but strong enough to keep you in place. if it weren't to keep you from bolting from his apartment for bruising your ego, you'd think it send fireworks in your belly.
"you don't understand." he says, looking up at you now and seeing that he's battling with what he's saying and what he really means.
you sigh, deeply, because you have an inkling of feelings for him and you want to know if what he truly meant was just to hurt you, or if there's something else to what he said. "so help me understand."
gojo stands, hands twisting and turning with each other and he begins to pace around the small space in front of the couch and the television. "so, i know that i have a reputation for being, like, this douche who just sleeps with anything with a pulse, and honestly it never really bothered me before."
you're silent, letting him continue with what he's saying and hoping he won't lose his nerve before he finishes.
"what geto was saying was some stupid joke because i had said something earlier about how you were really pretty and i thought i might actually have a chance to take you on a date sometime because i thought that we were vibing really well." he rambles, shaking his head at himself. "but he said it in a stupid way, and i didn't just invite you over to sleep with me, because i've never ever done that before! i've never invited anyone over before to watch a movie and hoping that they’ll just spontaneously wanna fuck."
"you've never netflix and chill'd someone before?" you say it incredulously because even as you say it outloud, it feels like something you've lied about. "never?"
he says your name softly, kneeling in front of you with your hands in his as he gives you a grim face. "i've never even fucked anyone before."
this revelation feels like a very bold-faced lie. a preposterous, almost presumptuous lie that only the likes of gojo satoru himself could try and pass off. you scoff, hands pulling away from his as you lean back into the couch, trying to get as far away from him as possible.
“wait!” he cries softly, hands falling to the couch as you pull your body away from him, attempting to go around him but freezing at his outburst. “i mean it, i’m still a virgin.”
“what the fuck?” spills from your mouth before you can think to filter yourself, but you’re just flabbergasted at this point. your brows have never been more furrowed but you’re rubbing at your head as you shake it. “you do realize half the campus has said they’ve slept with you, right?”
one of his shoulders comes up in a defeated half-shrug. “yeah, it started when i was a freshman. one girl got mad i didn’t sleep with her, but she said i had anyways. from there, it just snowballed.”
“why didn’t you deny it?”
he collapses now, falling from his kneeling position to sit on his ass, hands holding up his weight behind him. “what’s the point? either people believe me and then i’m weird for not sleeping with someone, or people don’t believe me and i’m called a liar.”
“don’t you want to get back at that girl for lying?” you tilt your head to the side, mouth still open slightly in disbelief. “i mean, it doesn’t bother you at all that she’s the reason people call you a whore?”
“whoa now,” his lips go from slack to an easygoing half smile, “i don’t know about whore but no, it doesn’t bother me. usually just means at parties i have to decline a lot of advances, but then again, i’d rather just avoid parties at that point.”
“so, like,” you pause, thinking of the words you’re trying to say and you’re momentarily mesmerized by the beauty of gojo, who’s just watching you quietly and waiting for you to gather yourself, “you’ve never… pee pee in vagina?”
his laugh sounds like little angels and you shift uncomfortably, realizing there’s a part of you that likes that he’s a virgin. that he hasn’t ever slept with anyone before, that there are parts of him that a single soul hasn’t ever seen. “that’s the gist of it, yeah.”
“do you want to change that?” the question is out of your mouth before you can think twice—an impulse that you hadn’t expected to need to curb, but when it’s out in the open, you realize that it’s exactly what you want to do.
you wanna take his virginity.
you don’t think you’ve ever seen gojo speechless before, because he was always talking—to geto, to some random girl, to you lately. he’s perpetually avoiding silence like it scared him, but this is the first time you’ve ever seen him actually at a loss for words. you watch his adam’s apple bob as he swallows thickly, rubbing his hands against his jeans. “wh-what? i though you got mad at me for inviting you over to fuck.”
you shrug. “i got mad ‘cause i thought you were being presumptuous by inviting me over for something ‘chill’ just to want to fuck.”
“shouldn’t i be offended that you found out i’m a virgin and now you want to fuck?” he raises an eyebrow, but the corner of his mouth is lifting.
“intensely offended.” you nod, watching him as he crawls back towards the couch, hand winding around your calf carefully. “are you? offended, i mean.”
gojo leans forward, pressing his lips lightly to your knee and it’s your turn to swallow thickly, mouth dry all of a sudden. “very. need you to make it up to me.”
you groan softly, leaning down to press your hand to his and your forehead knocks against his lightly. looking at him, his incredibly incandescent blue eyes that seem to see straight through all the fronts and walls you try to put up and nudge your nose against his. the position makes your neck ache but you can’t force yourself to move, too gravitated towards gojo. you can feel his breath fan across your mouth hotly and you can see his eyelashes fanning across his cheeks, though you’re grounded by the feeling of his hand’s warmth through your pants. “how?”
you can feel the way his hand shakes ever so slightly against your leg, can feel the way your muscles are spasming gently as he runs his hand up your leg, just barely touching you. his grip becomes firm again against the outside of your thigh, tilting his head up until your lips are millimeters away, practically breathing in each other's air.
"kiss me."
your lips crash against his with a fervor you hadn't realized you had in you. his lips are slightly dry, and the position is making your neck feel almost like it's about to fall off, but you couldn't think of a better kiss with him.
his hand flies from your thigh to cup the side of your face, the other one coming to rest on your waist as he pushes onto his knees, kneeling now between your legs. with you sitting on the couch and him kneeling, he's at the perfect height to ease the pain in your neck and to wrap your arms around his neck comfortably.
gojo pulls away from the kiss, but there's not even enough time to feel disappointed because he's already pressing your lips together again, this time with a bit of a slight opening. you take this as your chance to slide your tongue along his bottom lip, asking for permission to press deeper. you want to suck on his tongue, to feel him get hard from your kisses, to know gojo in a way that no one ever has before.
you've fucked before, and you've definitely had your fair share of disappointing experiences, so you want to make sure gojo's first time is better than—if not the best experience you could give him.
“bedroom?” he mutters against your mouth, moaning softly at the feeling of your tongue sweeping across his mouth again and you make a soft noise when he nips it gently with his teeth. “or couch?”
“do you want me to blow you on the couch or on the bed?” you ask back, hands roaming across his back and rucking up the ends of his shirt to feel his skin, smooth and warm. “‘cause i’m okay with either. want you to be comfortable.”
you can feel him shifting his weight around, and with a simple nudge of his hand on your thigh, you’re winding your legs around his waist. you’re not sure how he manages to stand from the position he’s in, but one minute you’re sitting on the couch, the next minute you’re in the air as gojo carries you towards his bedroom. your lips never leave his, and while he presses you against his bedroom door, hand fumbling with the knob, you bite his lip.
“oh god,” he whispers, eyes reverently roaming your face as he gets the door open, “i want you so bad, baby.”
opening the door, he walks you in the room and does a little bit of a spin, sitting down on the bed with you straddling his lap. he leans back on the bed, just looking at you. you’re not sure what he’s looking for, but you feel almost shy under his gaze, unused to the undivided attention.
“i want to kiss you.” he mumbles, cheeks all of a sudden getting rosy red and the sight of it makes your chest tighten—he’s so pretty. “but i also really want… you to blow me.”
“s’okay.” you respond, hands sliding down from his shoulders, across his chest and to his belt. you get up and maneuver yourself off of the bed, kneeling at the edge with your knees pressing into the plush carpet. “help me with the buckle, baby?”
“yes, mommy.” he breathes, hands immediately flying to his buckle and wiggling out of his jeans as fast as you think a person could get out of pants. the moniker he calls you sends a chill down your spine, unused to the term but not disliking it in any way. “is it— is it okay that i called you that?”
you nod, distracted by the bulge in gojo’s black underwear—large, twitching every so often, and you think you can see a dark spot right at his tip. it’s long, longer than you had been expecting, and it’s just girthy enough for you to wrap your whole hand around it. he bucks his hips into your hand, as if it was an impulse he couldn’t control, his own hand coming up to bite back the moan he can’t help but let out.
your eyes flicker to his, watching the way his rosy cheeks begin to spread, trailing to his chin and down his neck. his chest is heaving, as if every breath is a labor, and you can hear soft whimpers leaving his mouth every time you press your fingers firmly, or during the slow, agonizing strokes you’re giving his shaft.
you’re watching him unravel, and you’re practically salivating at the thought of his sounds when you finally wrap your mouth around him, much less when he’s finally inside of you.
freeing his cock from his boxers, you let the fabric pool at his ankles as you slot yourself between his legs further, watching him lean back and support his weight with a hand bunched in his comforter. "oh fuck."
stroking his shaft without the boxers in the way makes gojo's eyes roll to the back of his head, your skin smooth against his skin and your thumb rubbing gentle little circles on his tip. his cock has little veins running along the shaft and the tip is red, as if straining for something. "feels so fucking good."
there's a whine that's in the back of his throat that makes your arousal pool in your panties, and you begin to move your hips side to side, as if trying to get any sort of friction to relieve yourself. you want to finger yourself, press your fingers to your clit and get rid of this aching need in your pussy, but your hands are busy with gojo's cock, holding it steady as you flatten your tongue.
pressing the flat of your tongue against the underside of his cock, you relish the sound of desperation, of need, that gojo makes. it sounds halfway between a whimper and a moan, and it makes you swirl your tongue around his tip just to see if you can get another sound out of him.
"holy shit."
his hand is in your hair now, pushing the strands that had fallen into your face and moving them out of your way. he holds your hair loosely at the base of your neck and when you meet his gaze, he's biting his lip and groaning softly. his eyes are lidded, drowsy with lust and need, and it looks as if he's shaking, as if from the tension it takes to hold back from bucking his cock all the way into your mouth.
hallowing your cheeks, you push yourself up to sit on your heels and take as much of gojo's lengthy cock into your mouth, relaxing as much as you can to take him even further until he's hitting the back of your throat and then some. there are tears now, streaming down your face and gojo looks almost as if he's enjoying the sight of them, of his cock down your throat and tears pooling in your eyes.
pulling back until just the tip of his dick is in your mouth, you let your hand rub the parts of him that your mouth couldn't reach. gojo lets his head fall back, neck exposed to the ceiling as he moans wantonly. his grip tightens on your hair, making your pull back just a bit further and scrape your teeth against him by accident. he flinches, but then lets go of your hair to pull you off his cock fully.
"holy fuck, i think i was about to come." he mutters, breathless and chest rising and falling rapidly as he looks at you, hair disheveled and messed up. "i didn't wanna come before i got to fuck you."
in no time, you're both shedding your clothes and making out on the bed again, this time he's hovering over you while you wind your arms around his neck. you're nipping gently at his lips, relishing the nervous and tentative way he's touching you—as if, if he touches you wrong, you'll disappear from underneath him.
his hands are shaking, cupping your breasts and thumbing your nipples. pushing your chest into his hand, you moan and nod fervently when he gives you a look for approval.
"d'you wanna fuck me, gojo?" you whisper, pressing your lips wetly against his neck.
he whines, hand fisting the sheets until his knuckles turn white and he rubs his cock against the wetness of your cunt, slippery with your arousal. "call me by my first name."
you blink, surprised by his need for intimacy, but you're not one to deny him what he wants right now, the need for his cock too deeply ingrained in your brain at t his moment in time. his cock glides across your pussy again, rubbing against your clit and your moans come out breathless. "satoru, please, please fuck me."
and you're smart, you should've asked him to put a condom on to protect yourself just in case anything happens, but he's a virgin. he's never fucked anyone in his life, so there's no way he's got an std or anything, and you've been on the pill since you were young, so the thought of pregnant doesn't cross your mind. the only thing that crosses your mind is that you're about to have gojo satoru's cock in you and you want to relish every sound he makes when he finally, finally fucks you.
holding his shaft, he lines up his reddening tip to your cunt, hips stuttering as he begins to push himself into you. his face is twisted in what seems to be both pleasure and agony, but you're pretty sure it's because he's holding himself back for you, not wanting to rush his first time.
"you're so fucking—" his voice is coming out high, almost to the point of a whine as he groans at the feeling of his cock disappearing inside of you, and if you weren't so focused on leaving crescent indents in his skin, you think you'd be on the same page as him. "you're so fucking soft, a-and tight, mommy."
with every whimper, every soft reverent murmur of your name, you tighten your thighs, clenching around his cock as he fucks you. there’s not a rhythm to his thrusts, nothing to focus on and meet his hips with, since he’s a man reborn. now that he’s found what his salvation feels like, he’s just chasing his high. he tries to lean back his head, as if wanting to watch his cock slide in and out of your pussy. gojo’s hips hit yours with every thrust, the sharp angle of his hip bone leaving a grounding sort of pain on your thigh.
there’s a moment when you swear you can see stars and all you can think is ‘this man was a virgin thirty minutes ago’ because he’s got you desperately close to your climax.
“s-sator-ru!”
his name on your lips as you come, tightening your pussy around his dick and clawing at his back as he throttles you off of the edge, seems to set him over the edge, too. his hips stutter, body shaking as he comes in you—so much for not rushing his first time.
he falls now, letting his arms stop holding up his weight as he lets himself relax fully on your body and heaving in your ear. it’s not exactly romantic, but you enjoy running your hands along his sides to watch him twitch back and forth. his cock is twitching inside of you, fully spending itself of its first orgasm inside another person and you’re satisfied at his soft moan when you tighten your pussy one last time.
“i tried..” he whispers, mouth turning towards your neck and tickling you with every word he forms, “holding out, but i had to come. felt too good not to.”
“s’okay,” you whisper back, afraid to break the spell of closeness by speaking at a normal volume, “you’ll last longer next time.”
there’s an unspoken ‘with someone else’ that you can’t bear to say, knowing that perhaps this is just a one and done thing. something you’d done on a whim and perhaps, he had, too. perhaps this was just the easiest way for him to get laid, and you were more than happy to provide.
“gimme a minute.” he kisses your neck sloppily—too gentle. “i’ll clean up in a minute. need to catch my breath.”
you roll your eyes. hooking your legs around his ass, you turn your head to press a kiss to his temple—too intimate. “take all the time you need.”
he hums, eyelashes fluttering shut as his breathing begins to even—too pretty. you’re worried this might be the last time you see him so peacefully, and instead of worrying about later—later tonight, later tomorrow—you let your eyes close, too.
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amaranthineghost · 5 months
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Hiiiii!!!
Can you write smth where lando and his gf try this chocolate which makes you horny and see how long they can go without touching each other
| HIS HANDS TOUCH ME LIKE MY SKIN IS STICKY, HE'S GLUED TO ME ( lando norris. ) |
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ꕥ pairing: lando x reader
ꕥ summary: lando and his girlfriend try special chocolate and make it a competition to see who will lose first, and he's struggling to resist the urge to touch her.
ꕥ authors note: sorry this took so long to write, I was super busy and I don't know why this took me so long to make it half decent to read. i also wrote part of this with my new apple pencil! So that was super cool, but also weirdly difficult since my hand writing is slightly tragic.
ꕥ warnings: smut
FUCK, IT WAS HARD. he couldn't take it. he couldn't take the girl that sat across from him on the couch, lying perfectly on her stomach as if she didn't need him as bad as he needed her. after all, it was her plan, her bet, yet he'd been the one suffering.
clearly he had massively underestimated her, something he didn't do often. but he didn't expect her to be this nonchalant after eating the special chocolates she'd presented to him. he didn't expect her to have seemingly no reaction, or at least act like she didn't.
because he was going insane. he didn't expect the simple chocolate square she fed him to have such an effect on him, feeling the material of his pajama pants becoming tighter with every passing minute, and she appeared fine.
it hadn't even been 15 minutes since she challenged him to the bet and he was already a mess. she hadn't even done anything either, all she did was lie on the couch with her phone in her hands.
he wasn't sure how long he'd last. surely it couldn't be much longer with the thoughts of filth in his head, desperate to give him something to elevate his chances of outlasting her. it was unlikely, the dirty thoughts all consisted of her, and it aided him in no way, only hindering his ability to resist her.
fuck, he didn't expect it to be this agonizing, her skin was simply taunting him as she wore short shorts and a shirt she'd cut the collar off of, exposing the skin of her collarbone. her hair draped down her back, begging to be tangled in his veined hands as he forced himself down her throat, fuck. all he needed was her pretty, pink lips wrapped around the problem she caused when she first presented him with the special sweets.
his hips rolled against the couch at a desperate attempt to get comfortable with the aching bulge in his pants that he needed to be resolved so badly by her. a groan almost escaping past his throat at the friction of his pants. he hoped she didn't notice.
she did. she'd noticed because her vision was hyperfocused on his movement in her peripheral, watching every twitch in his body and every bounce in his leg. she felt the lingering eyes on her body, she knew he needed her, and she'd be lying if she said she didn't need him as much as he did, if not more.
the heat was uncomfortable between her thighs as she tried to ignore the effects of the sweets they'd eaten earlier as a challenge. because how else should they spend their time together other than trying to resist each other’s touch? she had tried to remain stoic as she saw the desperacy that’d become in his pants, a problem she knew only she could solve without leaving him aching for more.
he couldn’t satisfy himself with his own right hand, it wouldn’t be enough. he knew that and so did she—it was dangerous information she’d so quickly learnt after only a few nights in bed.
so seeming as he’d be unable to satisfy his troubles, it had made the challenge all the more agonizing. though it hadn’t been against the rules to take care of themselves, he wouldn’t. they only had one rule: don’t touch each other. so simple yet so torturous for the young driver when his girlfriend was this tempting.
he ached to feel her around him, in any way at this point because he so badly wanted to see her on her knees in front of him, turning red from the carpet underneath her, wanting to wrap her hair in his hands.
he didn't know what to do other than to sit and suffer as he tried to get some sort of stimulation to hold him until she caved. He hoped she would because he didn't know how much longer he could last before he'd ruin her. the image in his mind as he'd picture the scenario of her beneath him. But it wouldn't be long.
she stood up, so abruptly he nearly lost his breath. she finally caved, he thought in utter relief. he almost sighed, he was so relieved she'd been the one to lose. but she hadn't when she walked right past where he sat on the couch. he nearly lost his mind, he was so desperate and she passed right by him like she didn't even care.
she returned  with a bottled water in hand, completely undisturbed by the very disturbed lando she would almost walk by, almost. He reached out with his hands, digging into her sides when she reappeared, she yelped, caught off-guard with his hasty actions. he'd pull her into his lap, the water bottle falling to the carpet as her back pressed into his chest.
he groaned lowly into her ear when her ass pushed against his bulge, grasping the flesh of her waist so tightly, he watched  the skin turn red under his fingertips, and fuck did it turn him on even more. if that was possible. the friction caused by the clothes acting as a barrier caused his hips to buck against her.
he needed her, in any way he could get, he wanted to be selfish. so when he muttered in a raspy voice, "on your knees, pretty girl," she obliged, seeing as she wanted to please him in any way she could, especially since she hadn't been the one to lose.
she slipped from his lap, the skin of her knees digging into the rug. she watched him fumble with the waistband of his pants, he was desperate and she had all the power over him in the moment. she knew he was at her will.
she reached up to where he struggled with pulling the elastic down, wrapping her finger over the hem and pulling down his pajama pants and boxers painfully slow. she savored the moment, he wanted her to end his prolonged suffering.
past his thighs, down to his knees, and eventually piling at his ankles. he was hard, precum seeping down his shaft to show he'd been waiting too long. he sucked in a breath at the contact with the cold apartment air.
she ran her hands up his thighs, watching the goosebumps follow her cold hands. she controlled his pleasure. all while keeping eye contact, filled with lust and tension. when her hands reached his cock, she teased him by running a single finger down his hard length inciting a curse from his mouth and the movement in his hips. her other arm came to rest against the skin above his knee, the bone of her elbow pressing into the muscle.
she didn't tease him for long because what comes around, goes around. she didn't need him torturing her in the near future so she spit into the palm of her hand, though she thought it was most likely unnecessary for her to do. wrapping her hand around him caused the groan in his throat to escape past his lips.
he was a mess in her hands, strings of moans escaping his mouth with every slow stroke of his cock. he begged for her to pick up the pace, give him more.
so she figured she would, moving her hand ever so slightly faster, running her thumb across his tip before she leaned her head close to his cock, giving him kitten licks that left saliva down his shaft. she felt the moment his hand finally found her hair, tangling his fingers as he closed his hand in a fist.
she changed  from small grazes with her tongue to kissing back up to his tip. she slowly swirled  her tongue around the head of his cock. it caused lando to throw his head back, his neck on full display with his adam's apple bobbing with every noise of pleasure.
with his hand in her hair, he pushed  her down further on his cock so now her mouth was full of him. she squeaked against him, and he groaned loudly at the vibrations through his hard length, "fuck-"
he let out curse after curse as she sucked him off, hollowing her cheeks around his shaft which incited him to pull her further down by her hair, her nose nearly meeting the skin above the base of his cock. he could feel the struggle in her throat, praising her accordingly, "fuck-you take me so well, pretty girl." he'd hold himself down her throat only momentarily, he didn't want to hurt her too much.
when she pulled back, she panted heavily as the only thing that connected them was the trail of saliva from bottom lip to his tip. her face was reddened and flushed, a result of the move he just pulled. he removed the hand lost in her hair, moving to caress the side of her head instead.
he patted  his thigh for her to return to the original position they found themselves in. she was confused though, he didn't cum so why was he telling her to sit back on his lap? she’d find out.
she’d find out when she stood before him, seeing he still wore his shirt but the bottom had ridden up his abs. her stomach flipped at the sight of his happy trail that led to his erection. she stood still because she didn't know what else to do.
he reached behind her and pulled her by the backs of her thighs onto his bare lap. he cursed when her clothed heat grinded against his cock, his hands grasping her waist as he rolled her hips against him, hearing the small moans that left her lips. he smirked at how easily he could rile her up without doing much.
he sighed when she ran her frigid hands up his abs and under his shirt to his chest. she trailed them back down to the hem before peeling the material from his body while his hands remained firm on her hips. only for a second did he lift his hands to remove his shirt. the only thing that remained was his silver chain.
when his hands returned to her sides, his fingers disappeared under her top, feeling the hidden skin before he slowly pulled it from her body. he swore he felt himself get harder at the sight of her exposed chest, already finding himself fondling her flesh.
but he soon remembered  how desperate he was. he didn't have the patience to take her shorts off, watching her face as he pushed aside the cloth, hearing her hiss at the coolness though quickly replaced when he ran a couple of fingers across her cunt. she nearly threw her head back, just as he had done.
they didn't have time to mess around though as their already decently high sex drive had increased ten fold, hormones running at an all time high. so he wanted to waste no time, hastily dragging his fingers covered in her slick down his tongue. when he lined up his cock to her heat, pushing her down on him. a raspy moan escaped past his lips as he watched himself disappear past her folds. fuck, it was exhilarating feeling her walls around him, it always was.
as badly as he wanted it, he'd let her do the work. initially, she had just rolled her hips to create the friction they both craved from each other. but her movements were practically effortless, not costing her a heavy breath, it just simply wasn't enough.
despite the moans he'd let out, he needed more. he halted her movements, feeling her clench around him at the sudden lack of pleasure. instead he guided her up and down on his cock, lifting her so slowly then slamming her back down until he completely filled her, groaning lowly at the scream he'd caused to leave her lips. their skin lewdly slapped together as he'd continue the movements for her, eventually sitting back to watch as she bounced on his cock.
"you’re so pretty on my cock, darlin' " he'd praised, "such a good slut for me."
fuck, was it a glorious sight that'd been for his eyes only, watching her use his cock to pleasure herself. that’s what he liked to think because it got him off to see her enjoying herself, by any means. constant moans and occasional curses followed by his name, he could've come undone right as his name left her lips.
he noticed the staggered pace, how heavily her bare chest rose and fell, how she struggled to keep the momentum he'd set for her. by pushing her back, she pressed against him, face buried in his neck as her moans breathed across her skin. he’d wrap both arms around the small of her back to steady her, jutting his hips sharply upwards, followed quickly by her screams of pleasure as he plowed into her until she came hard on his cock, his thrust slowing to a halt.
they laid still for a while, his cock still stuffed inside of her as she stayed on him. the sweat on their skin mixing and the only sound that could be heard was the recovery of their breaths. peeling her body from his, he stood and didn't reach far to grab the previously disregarded water bottle, pushing it into her hand.
he disappeared, though not for long as he came back  with a damp rag and clean clothes for both of them. he gently parted her legs, first cleaning her inner thighs before ever so slightly across her sensitive clit, causing her to cry out softly.
“shhh,” he shushed her as he continued more gently this time.
“this was your doin’, love."
proofread by @vroomvroomverstappen <3
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hotgirlssupportlando · 2 months
Text
one day x lando norris
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pairing: lando norris x fem!reader summary of series: a series following one day of every summer from 2016 onwards in y/n’s and landos lives, exploring their friendship and love for one another. of course some angst and fights along the way in this rollercoaster of emotions. a friends to lovers, growing up together kind of thing. summary of this part: the start of y/n and landos friendship/crush. y/n is bored at the eurocup where a stranger (lando) is suggesting a betting game to make her interested in the sport (and him). wc: 1,2k notes: im too obsessed with one day atm so just had to write a story inspired by it!! it’s very modified tho, and i haven’t decided yet if it will have the same ending, don’t know if i can handle that haha! also pls ignore the charles pic, couldn't find a better atm. hmu if you have any requests for any of the years x part two here
summer of 2016
Red Bull Ring, Austria
”please y/n, you’re 16 years old, can’t you go elsewhere and entertain yourself, you’re getting a bit annoying now” y/n’s dad told her whilst he was trying to fix the broken car.
”ugh, sure i’ll go for a walk then” y/n sighed and went to go for a walk around the paddock hoping to see something more interesting than broken cars. her friends were jealous that y/n could tag along her father around europe all summer watching the eurocup formula renault 2.0, but she wasn’t very impressed. despite having a father working as a mechanic and utterly interested in motorsport she hadn’t inherited any interested in the sport what so ever. but at least she could escape england and the rain for some time so it felt like a win although she sometimes felt like dying from boredom. 
y/n walked around the paddock and decided to facetime her friend y/f/n.
”please come and save me, austria is so fucking boring and where the hell are all the cute guys i was waiting for??” y/n proclaimed. 
”omg y/n stop it, you’re always nagging about everything, you should be happy!! nothing happens here either so might as well be in another country doing the same” y/f/n said as y/n entered a tent where they served drinks and snacks. while she was ordering she noticed a curly haired boy shaking his head whilst smiling her way but she just continued her conversation with y/f/n. after enough discussion about the lack of interest y/n had for the sport and talking about y/f/n new crush y/n ended the call, sat down and opened her pepsi in front of her. it took about five milliseconds before the curly haired boy reappeared, this time in the seat in front of her. 
”hi” the boy squealed. 
”…hi?” y/n said questioning what he wanted, she weren’t exactly in the bestest of moods so to say. 
”i heard you hated the eurocup and that you think every guy is ugly here, so here i am to prove you otherwise” he said grinning. y/n chuckled at the way the boy seemed to have no time to waste in proving her wrong. 
”and how are you supposed to do that? do you have a masterplan?” y/n asked looking amused.
”glad you asked! well first of all here i am so now you’ve at least seen one cute boy around the paddock so there’s one problem solved an-” the boy was interrupted with y/n’s laugh. she couldn’t help herself from laughing but tried to gesticulate with her hand that he could continue. 
with a smile he proceeded to tell the girl about a betting game that could make her interested in watching the races. y/n was immediately down for the idea because honestly she could’ve done anything at this moment to have some fun. they had to come up with one condition each for the bet and agreed on saying them at the same time so no-one could back out. the curly haired boy betted that he would stand on the podium on today’s race and y/n betted that he wouldn’t, easy as that. now to the conditions. the boy apparently had his condition already planned out so y/n panicked trying to come up with one quickly too. she looked around her and went with the first random idea she got. 
”okay so we’ll say them on three?” y/n asked getting a nod for an answer.
”one.. two.. three” 
”you’ll buy me-” y/n started before getting interrupted.
”you’ll give me a kiss” the boy said with a cheeky smile. 
”…a pepsi. WHOA! you’re wasting no time mister” y/n laughed out after finding out the big differences in the conditions given. she was followed by a laughter from the boy too who was unsurprisingly very pleased with the bet. y/n wasn’t disappointed either, the boy was indeed quite cute for being a driver but she couldn’t let him know that. imagine the hubris he would get then, in comparison what he already had. 
the pair shook hands and locked in the bet. they decided to meet up after the race either at the podium or at his team, depending on how the race went. y/n was excited and almost felt a little butterfly in her stomach getting loose. 
”see you later then…” the boy hesitated realizing he hadn’t asked her name.
”y/n l/n, and yours was?” she asked.
”lando norris, but there’s no need to remember that, you will see the name on the top of the podium later” he chuckled walking away to his team. 
y/n could only smile and shake her head while walking away too. 
”and lando norris takes his fourth victory in this seasons eurocup!!” the presenter shouts excitingly. 
y/n was smiling so big her dad had to check up on her, how she immediately had watched a whole race after watching exactly zero of them up until now this summer. y/n had no time to explain to him what was going on and started to run along the paddock until she reached the podium. she was so excited and nervous that she was about to burst, it was hard to believe that she was developing some kind of a crush to this random driver. 
because she had little to none sense of direction the celebration at the podium was already done and dusted when she reached it. a bit disappointed and confused she looked around to see if she could see lando somewhere. there was surprisingly many people running around here.
”looking for someone?” a familiar voice said and y/n turned around. there he was, a happy lando holding a trophy in one hand and a bouquet of flowers in the other. she smiled and congratulated him partly for the victory and partly because he somehow got her interest in the sport for once. 
”i know it’s not nearly as good as a pepsi but you can have my flowers as a consolation prize” he said handing them to her. she took the flowers and admired them with a smile feeling her butterflies about to let loose. she collected some courage and looked up at his eyes before quickly looking at his lips and crashing onto them. the kiss took lando a bit with surprise but he was quick to answer it. with the hand not holding the trophy lando gently grabbed the back of y/n’s head, slowly deepening the kiss. the butterflies were officially out and about in y/n’s stomach. she tried so hard to hide the excitement but at the end she couldn’t resist smiling and therefore accidentally ending the kiss. slowly they pulled away from each other, leaving them both with blushing smiles on their lips. they looked at each other in silence for a moment before abruptly getting interrupted.
”lando! we’re taking pictures! come here now!” a member of his team shouted.
”well i guess i have to go then.. hope i’ll see you around” lando shyly told the girl.
”i hope so too” y/n stated not knowing the rollercoaster of joys and troubles they’d share in the future as friends and lovers. 
notes: feel free to give feedback and requests for future parts! x
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jinkiezzsstuff · 3 months
Text
The Dog And The Deer
Alastor x werewolf/dog GNreader
ever since i found out alastor was attacked by dogs i awaited for a fic with a dog reader but alas i never found one, honestly love the idea so i splurged one out but im not sure im the happiest with it. also thank you to anyone who read my lucifer x reader it’s pretty wild like that many ppl liked it made my butthole pucker tbh. i hope y’all enjoy this kiss kiss
warnings: no YN, no alluding to or mentioning of bodytype/hairtype/skin colour or gender, morally grey reader(maybe?), descriptions of blood and animal death (nothing gorey yuck), cannibalism on alastors part, swearing, slowburnish, i think that’s all?
words: 4K
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Alastor’s eye twitched watching as the mutt demon trotted around the hotels foyer with Angel. There was no worse stench then that of a dog. One of the few traumatic memories Alastor still holds close is the smell of wet dog along with memories of their jaws and teeth. Although, no one would ever catch him showing how uncomfortable your presence made him, that’d take away the image he’s created and potrayed throughout his nearly hundred years of being dead.
Yet as much as he hated every bit of your demonic form, he couldn’t help the slight tinge of desire to get closer to you, strange as it may be. You’re charasmatic and expressive, you let your ears and tail display the emotions you felt freely without holding back like he did. You got along with everyone at the hotel perfectly and you seemed to have a head on your shoulders; helping Charlie out with problems she couldn’t solve, and quipping back with fast remarks to insults thrown at you. Hell, you even got on Husks good side, a literal cat, a dogs worst enemy and vice versa.
Luckily no patron paid mind to the fact he always took the furthest spot from you at the table, or how his eyes never met yours in conversation, or that he never directly talked to you, more at you before walking off. No, nobody cares about his distance between himself and you, and if they did they knew better than to bring it up to him. Therefore he worried not about confronting you- that was up until this point. Watching with an unamused look, eyes lidded as he followed your figure waving bye to Angel and turning to him. You practically skipped your way over to him with a smile and he fought make the urge to get up and zip away.
You on the other hand, despite knowing his carnage good and well, respected the demon for the formalities he carried, as well as the little mortality he did have. It didn’t go unnoticed by you how much he seemingly hated you, you weren’t dense, but Charlie explained that Alastor was a generally private and mysterious overlord so you chalked it up to being his ‘thing’ paid no mind.
You will admit though, you were hoping that after a month or so of attending the hotel, he’d open up to your presence a little more. He wouldn’t. But! He still fed you when he cooked, woke you when you slept in, and kept you out of harms way as he did the other attendees, as well as escort you out whenever others were busy.
After a gossip session with Angel last night, you two concluded it was time to get to the bottom of the situation. Angel immediately went to the assumption he either wanted to fuck, or kill you, which you hoped he didn’t want to kill you, thankfully you moved along the topic by distracting Angel with other topics. You knew Angel out of anyone would be able to sniff out the fact you had the hots for the radio deer.
But that conversation is what landed you beside the radio demon on the couch, who statically crackled as you did so. “Hello Alastor, you look relaxed today, how’s everything going.” The deers eye twitched, a slight fog of black lingered up and around the couch, his smile strained and you could hear the sound of staticy disembodied voices in and around you.
You weren’t stupid to the fact he didn’t like you for sure now, but you were stupid enough to pretend you didn’t know. So you stayed smiling nervously up at him, but he simply stared forward. And after a few short moments he seemed to perk up ever so slightly snapping up and out of it. “Well my dear, i am doing just fantastic! Today has been one of leisure, i very rarely get to take those!” He exclaimed broadcaster voice in full effect, the smog and stactic zipped away as he composed himself entirely. You relaxed just slightly feeling just a little more welcomed. “That’s good to hear Al, I’m glad you get some time to yourself. You’ve done a lot with your magic for this place. Must be draining.” Alastor hummed daring to take a peak down at you.
You seemed to have all guards down around him, your canines poked out of your mouth slightly, quietly your tail thumped happily beside you, which he admittedly found to be quite adorable and idiotic why aren’t you more alert?. “You’re too kind darling, too kind. But I must go, I have to prepare my dinner.” Standing Alastor dusted himself off and swung his arms behind him, but before he could get anywhere you stood with him, your tail rapidly wagging. “Could i help?” Alastor’s ear twitched at that, his escape plan wasn’t very effective.
“Well, my dear, it’d be a little difficult, i like my meat, fresh.” His voice dropped an octave static taking over his voice, this time though he properly looked down at you, meeting your gaze. It sickened him that the first thing that crossed his mind was how enchanting your eyes are. You were a breed of demon he’d rather not associate with, and any lovey dovey emotion weakened his demonic image, and scrambled his mind with confusing emotions he’d rather not confront.
“Don’t worry Al, Vaggie told me you eat deer, i don’t really see the big deal about that one. Maybe i can try some.. oh do you hunt? I can totally catch it for you, this dog body is built for that!” You said hurriedly standing alongside him hands clasped in front of you almost like you were begging. Never would you say so, but were desperate to spend some time with him, it was stressful walking on eggshells all the time just for him.
Alastor’s eyebrows rose, he was decently pleased with the idea of a hunting partner, shrugging his shoulders he agreed, humming indifferently at you. “Follow me sweetheart, there are no deer out here!” Grinning wildely you skipped behind him, finally getting the attention you so desperately wanted from him. You mostly hid the longing to have the same attention the others got, while he literally pulled the others toward him, he kept metaphorically pushing you away. He never pulled you into song and dance, touched you, talked to you, hell half the time he wouldn’t even look at you as if you were a ghost. You also tried to interrogate everyone on his behaviour without appearing to obsessed, luckily the only one who seemed to notice this frantic questioning was Husk.
Husk was a good guy though, and took it with ease promising to not mention the sudden interest in Alastor and his behaviour. He did warn you to ‘watch your ass’ diggin into business that wasn’t your own. Outside of Husk mentioning that Alastor’s never been a fan of animals, a one off thing you barely paid mind to, the investigation left you empty handed. Nobody at the hotel really understood Alastor’s behaviour. Or Alastor in general, but you held hope they would.
“Here we are my dear,” Alastor exclamiend theatrically swinging his door open and leading you inside to the woody section of his room with his microphone positioned in the middle of your back. The furthest he’s ever gone to touch you, in truth. Focusing your eyes ahead you didn’t look around much, not wanting to be rude and stare at everything, though it was hard. You wanted to see how he liked things in his personal space, when he was all alone.
“Is this like a personal farm or something, are you like a breeder or…” You questioned quirking a brow up at him. Alastor chuckled quietly you could hear an audience echoing his laugh around the two of you. “No no, this!” He exclaimed stretching his arms out toward the greenery. “Is a glimpse straight into the forest, where the freshest of meats frolic.” Alastor looked back at you wicked grin on his face. “Ready to show me what you’re capable of, pup?”
Swinging his microphone around he then stuck it out toward the wilderness. With what he said you felt the need to impress him, so with smile and a nod you took off. After fifteen minutes, you returned. Alastor stood impatiently picking at his claws bored expression gracing his face, although his smile still present. Considering you planned to show off, you came back full demonic form on display and with two deer; one deer, sagged dead between your teeth, the other in your grasp.
Once Alastor decided to look up from his nails, he was petrified, and fought against the urge to flee like the prey he was reborn as. Alastor wouldn’t ever admit his fear directly but it was palpable, you could even smell it on him thanks to the fact you had the heightened ability to smell the stress hormones. To Alastors defence you appeared more dog than sinner at this point, a twisted mutation of what could’ve been a dog or possibly werewolf, he wasn’t sure and honestly neither were you. What he was sure of was that it made him nauseous looking at you and angry that you had that effect on him by simple existing.
Coming back to yourself, and what you’d typically look like, you dropped the deer at his feet, but he only stared at you, particularly your blood covered teeth. “Alastor what’s wrong? Uh, whatever happens in the forest stays in the forest?” You quickly say, panicking at such a display, you didn’t know him that well and visually you couldn’t entirely pick up on what he was thinking but you could pick up the way his blood rushed quicker through his veines, and how he clenched his teeth tighter than ever. “Nothing.” He snapped out fast as ever, but what shocked you most is the radio static in his voice left completely, you actually heard him.
Stepping an inch closer, testing the waters, you slowly reach out to his arm. Your gaze was locked on his eyes to try and find anything that could have given you the slightest hint at whether or not to pull away, but you found none. So crossing your fingers, metaphorically, you closed the small gap between you and him, very gently placing your hand on his arm.
Quietly you spoke. “I’m not sure whats wrong Al, but i know something’s up, and I know how you like to protect your image so don’t worry, i swear on my after life i won’t tell a soul about this.” Much to his dismay, he gave into your words of comfort, his posture falling slightly. Alastor’s smile never fell, but other parts of him did, like his ears and finally his eyes. He looked down to you and you could finally tell something was seriously fucked with how easily he let himself give in. “I was attacked by dogs before i died, is all, my dear. Ahhh, sometimes those pesky human emotions still remain present.“
“Is that why you avoided me?” You questioned putting the pieces together. With more confidence you moved a step closer to him, and he made no moves to stop you. “Yes, I apologize for my rude display, I’m not fond of dogs.” You inwardly scoffed. Dog, you were like, more of a werewolf anyways which was way cooler. “Well Alastor, what better way to overcome discomfort than befriending a dog! Than you’ll never have to worry about any dog sinner getting the upper hand!” Somewhere in that sentence was comedy gold, apparently, considering Alastor erupted into insane laughter which just had you awkwardly standing there watching as he vibrated joyfully.
Once his cackling was finished, he wiped away a non existent tear and bent toward you. With a pinch of your cheek Alastor gently shook your head side to side. “How adorable you are, someone getting the upper hand? On me? Ahah! Now i see why you and Husker get along so well! Silly little house pets, assuming such silly things.” You gently pushed his hand away a little upset by the quick switch in demeanour, not that he’s not been like this before, he was known for this. “Well, whatever, i meant well. Anyyhoo, does that mean we’re cool now?”
Al cocked his head to the side, repeating ‘cool’ to himself as if he didn’t know the word before shaking his head, and confirming that you two were indeed ‘cool now’. “Perhaps we should hunt together more often my dear, after all i’ve never had someone bend over and swear secrecy in return for nothing. You must be dying for a little bit of private time with me.” Gaping at him you watched as he turned his back and started a walking away. Snapping his fingers, the deer disappeared from your feet and reappeared on a table, big enough for two.
“Yeah right, I’d never that’s, uh, barf y’know.” You muttered collecting yourself, still a little ashamed he had seen right through you. “Come, dig in! After all this was your catch my little pet, it’d be so unkind to leave you without. Dogs do enjoy that, correct? Rewards.” Now sat across from him, your mouth fell in a flat line, ears drawn down. “Yeah, sure, just as much as deers like to be eaten huh? Why don’t you hop up on the table deer, doggy wants their reward.” You shot back, possibly a bit flirtatiously as you’d truly prefer him being your treat, your reward.
A record scratch sounded out from him, effectively causing a silence to wash over the two of you. You coughed, and a meek smile graced your face as you eyed the meat in front of you, then back to his eyes. Alastor seemed to be in quiet contemplation as he looked at you, his smile once open, now closed but his eyes relaxed signalling that he wasn’t going to launch himself over the table and maim you for what you said.
You both sat watching each other seeing as he made no movement or noise. The silence made your worried mind wander, while other parts of your mind foolishly wondered if what you said sparked any particular interests in him.
After all, you believed it was pretty hard to miss the double entendre there especially when you purred it out to him like a horn dog succubus. Sitting up straighter in an attempt to conceal your anxieties, you met Alastors calm gaze that never strayed from your form. It was like he could see straight into your mind and your heart kicked up with the worry of ‘could he read fucking minds.’
“So! I’ve seen you and the spider have gotten along swimmingly. Tell me, why does such a shy thing like yourself prance around with such a fellow? One that draws unruly attention wherever he goes?” Alastor finally broke the silence materializing a fork and a knife to dig into his meat. You were relieved the tension finally broke and you could move past the comment, for now. However bringing up the topic of Angel seemed quite calculated on his part.
“Angels amazing, especially when you get to know him Al. Plus, he knows what it’s like to be pushed around by men, he never puts me in the position where i’m the target of some sleazes desire.” You rant turning the dead deer towards you, not bothering to ask for cutlery as you planned to dig in- claws and teeth. “Hm, i suppose that could be true my dear, but i can’t help but be skeptical seeing how utterly opposite the two of you are.” You waved a hand lazily, ripping into the deers leg and nawshing down.
“I don’t even know what you mean by that.” Alastors eyebrows quirked at your rude gesture, that being speaking with your mouth full, but he wasn’t too surprised as he reminded himself you were just a dog. “It’s as clear as a sunny day pup! You are so unsure of yourself! Oh my, I just love watching you shrink into yourself at the sight of any demon outside the hotel. One of my favourite past times is walking around the ring with you as you shake like a chihuahua that lost its mother!” You watched mouth full as he threw his head back and laughed, again, quite theatrically.
The laugh track sounded with him as he did so, his ears perked happily, hand draped over his heart. You couldn’t be mad at what he said when he just looked so, adorably goofy. Obviously you hated being in hell and near other sinners, they were gross the majority of them wanted to harm you in some way, so you weren’t bothered at all that he could tell you were afraid of them, but you were curious as to why he decided to steer the conversation this way.
“Well Alastor, we’re all afraid of something. Oh and by the way- even though you only come to watch me cower- i still enjoy whenever we go out together.” You admit switching between inspecting your meat and looking at Alastor as he ate his. Alastor covered up the shock that he felt by taking a few silent bites. Briefly he reflected on what there was to like, after all he barely spoke to you during the outtings, he always walked fast and slightly ahead of you so you were always racing to catch up, he couldn’t find a single reason you’d enjoy being with him.
“Do you?” He finally inquired his head falling to the side, looking up to him you nodded, swallowing before speaking this time. “Yeah, truthfully it’s entertaining to me too. Watching everyone around us move away from you, whisper n gossip about you, all while you pay no mind with your head up, unbothered. Oh! And your radio too, I am not sure if you notice, but when you hum your radio just hums out with you, it’s nice especially since i’m too afriad to put in a headset. Oh and of course, you make me feel safe.”
Leaning forward slightly, Alastor placed his silverware down and placed his elbows on the table. Behind him his tail subconsciously wagged, pleased to hear that you had felt safe with him. It was an unusual emotion that sparked through his chest and he wasn’t entirely comfortable with it. It made him feel like he was loosing control to another sinner, and that was a big no no.
Alas, Alastors curiousity outweighed his distaste for the emotion soaring through him and instead decided to full speed ahead into it. Perhaps because that felt like he in some way gained control back by choosing to breathe into it rather than run. “I’m pleased to hear that my dear,” Alastor started slowly, dragging out his words buying him time for what to say next. “Had I known before i could’ve arranged something. You do know i have quite the little posse of shadows on my side, correct?”
Alastors eyes were lidded watching you lean back in your seat ever so slightly, shadows beginning to wisp around the floor by your feet. “I didn’t think you’d do that for me Al.” Resting his head on his hand, he ‘tsked’ at you. “And why is that my dear.” The expression on your face read pretty clearly as ‘are you kidding me’ but Alastor wanted to hear you speak. “To me it was pretty obvious, up until this point I had asssumed you hated me!”
The frustrated exclamation really didn’t bother him, instead he kissed his teeth, rolled his eyes and shook his finger like a scolding mother. “Silly pup, you know what they say about assuming, it makes an ass out of you and me.” Rolling your eyes right back you cracked a smile at him. It seemed to you he was trying to banter along with you, which was progress, and made your stomach flip. “Oh shush Alastor, you absolutely loathed my presence up until you could find a use for me.”
Alastor hummed flatly, checking out his claws. “Not true.” Snapping his fingers the deer left untouched disappeared leaving the table barren. Alastor stood and undid his coat walking away leaving you hanging. Shocked by his sudden reaction, you stood the table vanishing behinfd you. “What do you mean Al?” He hung up his jacket, now left only in his vest you standing behind in patiently. Once hung up Alastor turned to you and smiled mischievously down at you. Before you could question him, he grabbed your face under your chin and grasping your cheeks.
“Oh my silly little dog, you think your form was the only thing pushing me away. No,” Gawking up at him as he invaded your space for the first time in your months of being here, he stood inches away from you forcing your head up to look into his eyes. “I admit, i’ve been dealing with more unpleasant emotions than fear. You’re quite divine, you know.”
You felt like you were melting and your heart raced in your chest and the radio demon looked down at you with a softness you’d never seen in his eyes before. His hand released your cheeks and instead he started gently caressing you, loving the way you shivered just at his touch. “You’re hard to put up with, my dear. Allow me to confess you’ve been the the most difficult sinner to rid from my mind. Silly as that may be. I have ridiculous thoughts about what you may think of me, how i look, my golly i even ponder whether you desire my presence when i push you away. I also wonder what other undeserving sinners have your attention, have their paws on you.”
As he spoke he inched closer to your face, his hand cupping your cheek while the other ghosted up your arm, barely making contact with your flesh. You felt weak at the knees as he hovered above you with suck a coy smile, his red eyes looking straight into your own. “Al..” You trailed off almost warningly, but all he did was hum lazily bringing his face even closer to yours.
You could smell his fragrance one you couldn’t fully pinpoint as one thing. Definitely a cologne of sorts, mixed with blood, deer guts, and the faintest scent of pine. “Tell me sweetheart,” Alastor started dragging his hand from your cheek to gently grabbing your neck, making you swallow. “Do you hold the same interest in me as i do you?”
He almost sounded as if he was mocking you when he asked, but you were too lost in a haze from this fucked up foreplay he had going on to notice. Instead you nodded just barely moving your head but you knew he’d see it. “Of course you do, good little pup. I noticed.” Alastor hissed out darkly before pulling you by your neck flush against his body.
You squeaked but it was hushed by Alastors lips connecting with your own. You hands flew up to his chest grabbing on for dear life. In fairness the kiss was pretty soft, but you were so shocked your body reacted a bit harshly. He kept his smile against your lips, you matching his pace unashamed at how quick you kissed him back. His right hand kept on your throat controlling how close you were to him while his other hand danced up to your head to push your lips closer to his.
Pulling away abruptly Alastor shot up straight suddenly holding you at a distance by both shoulders. Your body ragdolled to his command barely catching your footing as you were in a lovey dovey haze. “Perhaps that is enough for today! Don’t want to get carried away now! You deserve proper treatment from a gentlemen!” Broadcaster voice back in play, you winced as he tonned down his volume for quite awhile up until this point.
However your annoyance didn’t last seeing as Alastor actually wanted to go out with you, so instead you smiled up at him. “How kind of you Al, maybe we can have more deer?” Dusting yourself of invisible dirt, Alastors hands retreated behind his back. “Of course my deer sounds like a gas! But for tonight perhaps we should relax. I have to get to a meeting within the next few hours, but i thoroughly enjoyed our time today!”
Smiling at him as he lead you to his door this time his hand pressed gently against the small of your back. “I really enjoyed it too Al, especially the part when you kissed me that was my fave.” You teased watching as he looked away his ears tilting to the sides ever so slightly.
“Yes, well, i did as well. Now then! Carry on i must get appropriate, ta-ta!” He exclaimed pushing you out of his room and shutting the door behind you, and while you giddily ran off hyped to tell Angel about everything, Alastor collapsed against the door smile strained heart pounding in his chest, incredibly uncomfortable with how to deal with these emotions, but please at the same time with experiencing something he’d not felt before.
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grimesgirll · 2 months
Text
sometimes you loathed sleeping in the middle just for the difficulty getting out of bed. if you were sandwiched between rick and daryl, then you had to peel their arms off - if you could manage to shrug off rick - and scootch to the end of the bed, using your arms even to bring yourself forward without making too much of a commotion.
“where’re you goin’, sweetheart?”
“bathroom.”
you send him a smile and peel his arm off once again to push off the bed and pad over to the en suite.
he’s all over you once you return to the bed and crawl on hands and knees back to your spot. before your head hits the pillow, rick’s hands are on you and wrapping around to lock you into his embrace.
rick needs you to sleep. you’re his soft, pliable paperweight. it’s just something you’ve picked up about the man. being the number one person he wanted in his arms flattered you. however, you weren’t prepared for how often rick took advantage of this access.
you’re choking back sweet moans once his two fingers breach your walls. you want to be shocked at the forwardness but rick knows you too well. instead, you’re grinding your hips back into him.
“you’re getting me all flustered again,” you mumble.
rick picks up the pace. “what? you don’t wanna cum all over my fingers before you go to bed?”
you nearly double into daryl hearing the sheriff’s words. “yes!”
“man, you’re keepin’ her up.”
rick clicks his tongue. “i don’t see her complainin’.”
you want to chime in with some smart comment but you’re too busy getting rick’s thick fingers jammed up your pussy.
“i don’t think you’ll be complainin soon enough.” rick remarks playfully to the other man. he lowers his lips to your ear. “wanna help us all sleep better, sweetheart?”
you shake your head sure.
next thing you know you’re on your hands and knees facing daryl. a hand in your hair guides you to his clothed cock.
“why don’t you show daryl how much you like us keepin’ you up?”
daryl sends you a look like he feels guilty that you’re freeing his pants instead of soundly sleeping but any remorse is gone once you flick your tongue against the side of his shaft.
rick lining himself up and subsequently knocking the wind out of you with a rocky thrust drives you right down daryl’s dick. you gag and daryl nearly jumps out of bed at the sudden feeling.
you feel like you’re being split open with rick ramming into you from behind. every thrust bounces you further up and down daryl’s cock. his hands find your braids. you braided your hair at night to lock in moisture not that rick didn’t love tugging on them so hard they unraveled.
stuffed to the hilt with cock, you’re finding it hard to think about anything else than the men pistoning you between them. all to sleep better. god knows they needed it though. the weight atlas had on his shoulders was nothing compared to what rick and daryl were saddled with.
at the very least, you could offer your ever accommodating pussy. it wouldn’t solve all of their problems but you could help.
and when they take such good care of you, how can you refuse?
circling back to your pleasure, rick reaches down to linger a finger or two strategically against your clit. you know it won’t be long for you once he maintains the same excruciating pace he liked to subject you to in order to get you coming twice on his cock; once to get started and once to finish him off.
after that, daryl would cum down your throat and bring you in for a heated kiss, nearly forcing you back into rick- still inside of you. eventually, rick’s pulling out to grab a soft towel to clean you off with while daryl lifts your hips for you so you can focus on his tongue between your teeth.
rick will bring over your favorite oversized sweatshirt of his to drown in. then you’ll be back, hugged to his chest.
daryl eventually rolls closer so you can lay your head on his chest. the position may require some reconfiguring as the night goes on but they’ll probably just shift you in your sleep so you don’t worry about it.
it won’t be long again until you’re waking up feeling needy or they are or you’re met with something hard beside you.
and this is why you love sleeping in the middle.
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pearlywritings · 7 months
Text
Remarkable comparisons
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synopsis: you just never seize to surprise him - your words make his heart flutter as you find the new ways to admire the parts of him.
prompt: 20
requested by: my dearest @lunargrapejuice
pairing: Diluc, Kaveh, Neuvillette x fem!reader
tw: fluff, established relationship, Diluc has thick eyebrows (because I love Rae's (@bobaboob) design of him), tiny mention of injury in Kaveh's
word count: 2.3k+ words in total
a/n: check my Token of appreciation writing event!
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Diluc
“Congratulations, Kaeya,” you smile, saluting the Cavalry Captain with your drink. “Maybe this is a sign and you should really start dating someone.”
“One letter with a confession is all it took you to give me this piece of advice? Why, I am very honored to receive one,” the man teases, cheek supported by a hand and the fingers of the other drumming against the bar counter as he’s waiting for his own treat for tonight. “Not to mention, you getting together with Diluc in the past didn’t really solve the exactly same problem, am I correct?”
There is a grumbling sound coming from the bartender’s throat, and you snicker, knowing that the redhead is certainly rolling his eyes.
“Careful, Kaeya, or you might get your drink dumped into the sink.”
“Surely my brother wouldn’t do something like that to me,” your friend decides to pay your words no mind, turning to look at your husband instead, “right, ‘luc?”
“Oh, I actually might.”
“Ouch, you wound me.”
Diluc gives him a half-hearted glare, and you shake your head, too used to their quarrels over nothing. Tuning out their voices, you close your eyes and try to relax, enjoying your favorite beverage - always courtesy of your beloved - and humming the melody the bard is singing further into the room. The evening can be called unwinding, and if it continues to be so, it won’t be a hard task to wait Diluc’s shift to be over, to help him close the tavern and make your way home.
“Hey, hey, Y/n,” but of course Kaeya has to disturb your just established peace and quiet, and when you open your eyes again, there is already a full glass in his left hand. Looks like the tavern owner was convinced not to throw it away as he threatened to do.
“What is it, Alberich?”
“You decided to hurt me too,” he gasps painfully, clutching his chest and mimicking the face of a kicked puppy. “My favorite sister-in-law is bullying me with my last name.”
“I am your only sister-in-law. I get the privilege.”
It doesn’t escape you how Diluc snorts at your answer. Kaeya only grimaces.
“We’ll come back to it later. Now I am more curious, how did you handle all those love letters my brother received? I don’t believe you’ve ever told me.”
“I probably didn’t,” you agree, putting your empty glass down, only for it to end up in the redhead’s hands a minute later. “But that was fun.”
“...fun?”
“Yeah, fun. Ever since Diluc started courting me and I returned his affections, he’d come to me with every letter - sometimes with a whole pile of them - and we would sit down and read them together.”
The star-shaped pupil darts to the unfazed man and meets with the gaze of crimson eyes - it is as if he knew that his brother would question his reaction.
“I didn’t want her to get the wrong idea,” he states while pouring you another drink. “Just throwing or burning the letters without any prior explanation could leave some trace behind and cause misunderstanding, so I decided to tell her of the very first one I got when in a relationship with her. She found it so entertaining that ever since she demanded to read every single one of those.”
“You can call it my own research on the creativity of his suitors’ compliments,” you grin, thanking your lover for the new drink, leaning up to plant a kiss to his cheek. “I’ve counted around 120 comparisons of his eyes or hair to anything related to fire, a little bit more than 60 saying of his wisdom and owlishness, something like 46 cases of titling him a ‘prince’... But there were original ones too - ‘locks like waterfall of Fontaine’, ‘the dark master of my dreams’, ‘the perfect father for my children’”, Kaeya chokes, while you simply shrug your shoulders. “Yeah… I have a whole list somewhere actually. I can show you later, just remind me the next time you visit the winery.”
“You are the menace, my dear. Diluc, I can’t believe that after all those…fluttering words you were blushing over that compliment your now wife gave you about your eyebrows!”
“I mean,” Diluc clears his throat, furrowing the aforementioned brows, “They’ve just grown back after that accident with my vision…”
“And I jumped on him, kissing all over those beautiful thick bushy lines atop his mesmerizing eyes. I really missed them,” you sigh dreamily and the Cavalry Captain isn’t sure if you are serious or exasperated.
“It… it was the first time I'd heard them described that way. Or mentioned at all,” Almost unconsciously your husband reaches to move the fluffy fringe to the side. You can’t help but raise your hand and smooth the thumb over his eyebrow. Archons, your man is handsome.
“It was the first time I used such words too. I tried to be romantic. And creative. Creatively romantic.”
“I guess it worked…” Kaeya mumbles averting his eyes from the display unfurling before him. Maybe staying single wasn’t so bad.
Kaveh
“My love, you should be more careful with them, you know?” Softly caressing the bandaged knuckles with your thumb, you scoot even closer to your sulking husband. Your shoulder is immediately occupied with his golden-copper head, cheek flush to your bare skin and you can only assume that he is staring at the lock of your hands.
“Of course I know,” he sighs, turning his palm up and gently grabbing your fingers to draw the back of your hand to his lips. “My hands are basically the source of my income. But accidents happen at the construction site. It’s just that this time I am the one who ended up hurt. Thank the Dendro Archon no one else was affected.”
You want to scold him for being so dismissive of his own health, you want to scold him for not treating the injury well enough right away and jumping back into work again, you want to scold him for diminishing the role of his hands - his own role - to a simple instrument of making mora.
But you almost instantly push those thoughts away - after all, Kaveh knows all these things very well, and you are not about to ruin his mood even more.
“I hope they’ll heal soon,” you offer instead, turning your head and kissing the top of his. “Your hands are very important!”
“They are?” The blonde finally looks at you and there is an unmasked interest in them. “You mean, more than for drawing blueprints?”
“So much more! No other hand can hold mine. No other fingers can push a strand off of my face when the wind is too playful. No other palm is as perfect as yours to plant kisses upon. No wrists can compare to the work of art that yours are - also perfect for kisses.”
“I don’t know, birdie,” you are so beautiful in your pretense of playful hesitation, gleaming eyes averted and lips pursed. “What if this emotion doesn’t suit me so well?”
“But my muse,” the corners of his lips tug in a smile, akin to a shy morning sun, “all these things and so much more I can still do even with my hands bandaged.”
“I know, Kaveh, I know. But, there is something else, and, quite honestly, I might get shy if I say that outloud.”
“Oh?” Yes, that Kaveh-like lilt is back in his enchanting voice, and now he is sitting with a straighter back, half-turning to face you, but keeping your hands together on your knee. “Now I really want to know.” 
“Come on, tell me~” And he is pushing his forehead against yours, gently butting, eyes full of determination staring in yours. “I wanna know what else my sweet loving wife thinks of my hands~ Or I might just attack you with kisses!”
“Wait, I joked-” and you erupt in giggles, when the architect surges forward to shower your smiling face with pecks big and small.
“...and what if I want it?”
“Then you shall receive.”
“Alright, alright! I surrender! I see your hands as the creators of our future home!”
The attacks abruptly stop. The pretty pink padparadscha eyes blink a few times, mind processing the words of your sacred confession. And while he is at it, you decide to elaborate.
“I adore the place we are currently renting. But I hope that one day we’ll build our own house - based off your blueprints, based off your vision of our home, cozy and full of light. So,” you reach your free hand to take his second one to lovingly hold them in your grasp, “for me your hands are also the creators of our future home, if you ever wish to share my idea.”
“I… Wow, Y/n, you caught me off guard,” the gaze full of wonder falls to his hands, currently wrapped in white bandages and looking imperfect in his own eyes. “It… it's the first time I've heard them described that way.”
“It's the first time I used such words too, my dear husband.”
You want to protest when his palms slide out of yours, but as they cup your cheeks and draw your lips to his - you eagerly close the distance, putting your hands on top of his.
Something tells you that Kaveh very much shares your idea.
Neuvillette
Your lover’s shrewdness has always been a well-known fact, an unprovable wrong at that. But even he at times could get stuck on a tangled case, especially in a moment of lacking some crucial details - though the public is never aware of it, because when the Iudex of Fontaine takes his rightful place in the courtroom there is no doubt that he knows more than enough to start the trial.
Only you and the melusines have ever witnessed him in a state of stalling as he is analyzing the information he has again and again until the missing piece is discovered. Today is exactly one of these days. No trials are scheduled for the day, so Neuvillette can dedicate his full attention to looking over the cases he will be taking care of tomorrow. Admittedly he never feels annoyed or discouraged when his thoughts reach a deadend, but having you in the same room always brings him comfort even though it was unnecessary in the first place.
You came earlier in the afternoon and brought him lunch, knowing that he’d barricade himself in the office till the late hours of the evening, and decided to stay, promising to handle any issue his subordinates could end up visiting his office with. The man has his full trust in you and your abilities to take care of the administrative part of his job - you’ve spent many decades by his side and involved in his field of work and possessed much empathy towards humans.
Same empathy you hold for him. It’s clear to you, as his beloved, his mate, that your partner needs a break. It’s been some hours since lunch and the desk in front of him has been getting crammed with more and more thick folios. If Neuvillette was a mek, there would be gears turning into his head intensively.
Oh!
Suddenly an idea pops into your head.
Putting away the reports Sedene delivered half an hour ago, you quietly rise from your spot on the plush sofa. The carpet muffles your steps as you move closer to the desk and round it, stopping right by the chair, putting your hand on its back. Your lover doesn’t even lift his head, too used to your presence, never questioning your actions. You admire the parts of him that are in your sight - his long, silky hair, thrown over the left armrest - a habit he developed, too tired to sit onto his own locks; then there is some of the skin of his neck is opened, transforming into the sharp jawline which you suddenly have desire to kiss; the broad shoulders that look even wider because of his coat and you put your free hand on his elbow, bending down.
And then there is his ear - pointy and delicate, it becomes the center of your plan.
Neuvillette’s whole frame shudders when you hum against the shell of it and then press the side of your head to his. It takes a moment to realize that it’s your ears that are touching and you lean into him even further, finally breaking his focus, eliciting a confused sigh out of him.
“Beloved? What’s wrong?”
“Mmm, absolutely nothing, darling,” you hum again, yet do not move anywhere from your spot. “It’s just your thoughts were running so fast in your head that I thought I was hearing the crashing of the waves.”
“...pardon me?” Now the confusion is in his voice too and you draw your face away to look at him with a glint of amusement in your visage.
“Well, you know, they say ‘a shell of an ear’. And if you press your ear to a seashell you’ll hear the sounds of a distant ocean. Come to think of it,” your finger touches the pointy edge and travels the length of it, sending another shiver - this time a pleasant one - down the man’s spine, “your ears look like the prettiest shells.”
When your digit stops its ministration it’s his own gloved hand that reaches up to touch the place you’ve just been tracing.
“It… it's the first time I've heard them described that way,” his voice is soft, inhuman eyes closing as a tender smile graces his lips.
“Well… It's the first time I used such words too, my love. I am glad the comparison is to your taste.”
“It is indeed,” the chair is pushed away and in a moment your lover is standing, fondly looking at you and offering his hand. “How do you feel about a walk at the shore?”
“Wow, if complimenting you will always result in taking a break from work I should start making more of those,” you can’t help but tease, eagerly taking his hand though. “I feel positively about it. Let’s go.”
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eros7hanatos · 3 months
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➽ Falling Grades
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Professor!Dottore x Student!afab reader
Warnings: Teacher-student relationship, modern au, age gap, cockwarming, bribery, smut.
Word count: 1033
A/N: very heavily inspired by a character ai bot and another fic I read, the fic is by actuallysaiyan. She’s a goddess 🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️.Even though I don’t play genshin anymore I’m on my knees for this man.
art creds: IllaOhara
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You made a mistake when you decided to be distracted by your phone instead of listening to Dottore’s lecture. Preoccupied by your distraction, the professor’s hand hits your desk with a loud thud, causing you to jump. 
“It seems my lecture on careless students wasn’t clear enough for you.” His voice sent chills down your spine. “Put the phone away.” He said, as he walked back to his desk to continue the lecture.
“And I expect to see you in my office after classes.”
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Soon the day was coming to an end, all your classes being finished. You made your way to Dottore’s office, being located on the highest floor in the building. As you knocked on his office door you bit your lip and took a deep breath. 
“Enter.” You pushed the door open, revealing the messy desk, covered in research papers and was that an ink spill? There were also multiple pictures and diagrams of the human body. Dottore was sitting on his chair, writing something on a piece of paper. “Do you know why I called you into my office, miss?” he asks, finally looking up from his papers. “Because I used my phone?” you answered. What else? He smiles, but it was quickly replaced with a stern and cold look on his face. “You’re partially correct.” he simply says as he then opens a drawer next to him, taking out a small stack of papers. He then takes the most top one, revealing it to you. You almost instantly recognize the paper. He slides you your latest test, the low score clearly written at the front of the paper before continuing to slide you other past tests, all low scores. You were clearly distracted by something too much to focus, your phone was only partially at fault. And Dottore knew that.
“Care to explain these?” You bit inside your mouth. “I’m so sorry. I…I had trouble with the material. I’ll do better next time, I promise.” You say as he lets out a sarcastic laugh, leaning back into his chair. “‘Sorry’ can’t fix everything. We should solve the cause of your dropping grades and I believe I know just what the problem is.” he gets up from his chair and walks towards you, towering over you. Your breath hitched, inhaling the expensive cologne he wore as his body was merely inches away from yours. Suddenly you felt small and trapped. Your heart rate increasing by the second. You weren’t really sure where this conversation was leading, but you really hoped that you wouldn’t have to repeat the year, or at worst, be expelled. You wanted to finish your degree, but who would’ve thought that one of your professors would be so goddamn sexy.
“I know I’m a distraction, miss. It’s written all over your face during my classes.” Dottore says, crossing his arms as he watches your expression turn frantic. “Professor Dottore, I-” you start, now worried that you might actually be expelled. “I didn’t mean to! I’ll…I’ll make it up!” you propose, quickly thinking of a way out. Dottore pauses for a moment, carefully considering your words before grabbing your wrist and pulling you forward. Causing you to nearly crash into his perfectly sculpted chest.You look up into his deep red eyes with pleading eyes.
“Seeing you’re so desperate, I have a few options for you.” His lips curve up into a small smirk as you look up at him with hope and desperation. You prepare yourself for what he’ll say next, but no matter how much preparation you had would make you prepared for this.
“You can either stay after classes every afternoon and study, along with a few other students. Learn a thing or two from your peers. Or,” he paused to give himself a smug grin, “You can sit on my cock while I tutor you myself.”
You swear you fainted for a second or two as soon as he finishes his sentence. He can’t actually be serious, can he? You look at him, cheeks flushed as he looks down and laughs at you once more, amused by the events unfolding in front of him. However you surprise him when you choose to sit on his cock.
And that’s how you ended up with his long length so deep inside you as he explains embryology to you. How ironic. Whenever you whined or tried to move he would slap your thigh and tell you to focus. “Do you understand?” he asks, after he finished his explanations. You slowly nod your head, squirming, causing him to harshly slap your thigh once more, the red spot on your thigh slowly growing in size and in shade. You whine out at the slap, trying to stay still but of no avail. “Do I have to remind you again that this is a punishment and not a prize?” You shake your head, keeping still as you grab the wooden desk in front of you, nails scraping on the wooden surface. You can’t help it. The way your cunt pulses around his length drives you crazy. It felt so good but so torturous without any movement. 
Dottore, on the other hand, was entertained by your reactions. He never expected for you to accept his offer so quickly. He knew you had a crush on him but he’d never guess that you’d be so willing to go this far to have this sort of relationship with him. However, he couldn't deny the fact that having your wet, heat around his cock made him more motivated. 
“That’s all for today.” he said, placing down the papers in his hands once he saw the time. It had already gotten quite late. “Today, you did good, amazing even. If this continues, you’ll improve to a B student in no time. And if you throw in a treat, I might consider bumping your grade up to even an A.” You whined as he thrusted up into you at the word ‘bumping’, your cunt convulsing around his cock once more. 
How could you resist such a good offer? 
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clockwayswrites · 9 months
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Both Ways at Once Part 4
WC: 668, Masterpost
Jason inched forward and pressed his ear to the door Tim had just gone through.
“What’s wrong?” Tim asked.
There was silence, then “Where’s Jason?”
That was Dick. He’d been staying at the manor since it all happened. It was a little weird to have him a round like that.
“Asleep. He’s still getting exhausted too easily.”
Dick would buy it, of course he would. For one, it was true; Jason was exhausted. For another, Jason had been good. He rested when he was told. He ate when he was fed. He spent most of his time awake in the library just reading. He was passive.
He may have set them up, but it was their own damn fault if they bought it.
Dick let out a sigh. “Yeah, I know, I’m worried about that. So’s Bruce. They had Constantine bring in another specialist…”
“No good?”
“Don’t know. He sorta…” Dick laughed but it was strung out sounding. “He phased into the cell and then refused to let go of Hood. Or Hood refused to let go of him, we’re not sure. They’re in a meeting room now. According to him, they were basically torturing Hood by keeping him locked up in the Watchtower—”
Jason didn’t hear anything else. Blood was rushing in his ears. They were hurting him.
When he had come to in that basement, Jason had been confused. He hadn’t known how he had gotten there or what was happening. But also he had. Part of him had known, instinctively, that the huge man next to him was important and that they needed to stay close together.
His head had felt like it was splitting in two as what he knew and what was overlapped. His skin had felt too tight, like he had been stuffed into it. Everything had hurt. And so when his family had arrived and whisked him one way and the other man another, Jason had let them.
He had regretted it ever since.
Bruce and Constantine had sat him down the next morning, explaining that he had been hit with a magical spell that affected him mentally and physically. He had been split into two. He wanted to see the other part of him, but they said no. They had to find out more about the situation first, he was told. There could be a magical backlash. It was dangerous. They were keeping him in the dark, that’s what.
Fuck that. Jason had started using his exhaustion and pain as a cover as he worked to find out information. He learned: - The man was called Red Hood (no, not that Red Hood). - Apparently he used to look a lot closer to how Red Hood did. - The memories he knew of the last few years never happened. - They were keeping Red Hood in the Watchtower. - He needed to see him.
Jason was still putting together a plan, and now this consultant had solved one of the biggest problems about how to make it happen, Red Hood was out of his cell. Half baked plan or not, there was no time like the present.
Careful to keep his steps soundless, which was easy enough in the thick socks he wore to desperately try and stay way, Jason crept away from the door and took off to the Bruce’s study. He was grateful that while things about the present overlapped weirdly with his memories, like half dreams and stories, anything before he had… anything before Ethiopia still made sense. Anything after was a crap shoot if it was real.
The hands on the clock turned easily, his thumb print still scanned, and the door still opened. The way to barricade the door from the inside was the same too. It wouldn’t hold any of the Bats for long, but it was enough for Jason to scramble down the steps and over the the Zeta tube.
He just needed Red Hood to hold on.
He would be there soon.
He needed to see him.
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AN: So maybe I'm spoiling you all with another update today, but it is dark and stormy and I'm burrowed into a blanket with cats and a headache, and people have been asking about smol!Jason so I felt you all should get to meet him!
Stay delightful and dry, darlings!
I no longer tag people, but you can subscribe to the masterpost to be notified!
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roll-for-gaslight · 28 days
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While I think Sklonda is right to be critical of the Bad Kids and specifically Kristen, I think that a lot of the reason she did so is that she was missing a lot of context the other parents were given. We see in Freshman Year that she’s often given the information about their quests from Riz, several hours after the fact, and he shares clues with her rather than personal things. He doesn’t think the personal bits are what she cares about because, for him, that’s not the problem being solved. He’s happy with his friends and she only really would hear if one of them caused a problem. Her apartment isn’t a hangout like Seacaster Manor, Mordred Manor, the Thistlespring Tree, or even Gilear’s season one apartment were. By the nature of her being a single working mother in a difficult financial situation, she often was left out of extracurricular activities.
For example, Mordred is obviously a place filled with a lot of activity, and plenty of kids to give updates on said activity if something slips through the cracks of someone’s retelling. If Adaine leaves out a personal moment because she’s focused on the case, Fig or Kristen or even Ragh could fill in that blank, plus the fact that the other BKs spend a lot of time there means that Sandralynn, Jawbone, and Lydia are usually getting every side of every story. The Thistlespring Tree is where the Bad Kids go not just because it’s a nice place to spend time, but because it’s often directly tied into a plot or subplot! The power source in season one, the satellite in season two, and Gorgug’s artificer journey + the whole Frosty Faire thing going on now! Besides that, the Thistlesprings have raised Gorgug in a way that encourages open channels of communication about his emotions above all else, so he tells them what’s going on! Fabian’s parents over at Seacaster Manor haven’t been involved so much this season, but Bill Seacaster saw their bond from the start and taught them how to take care of each other and fight as a group, and Gilear has always been heavily involved in their adventures because all of the BKs have been emotionally invested in him as well!
Aside from that, she’s missing the context of actually being able to attend their quests like some other parents/guardians were able to in Sophomore Year! Gilear and Cathilda and Sandralynn all know things like the fact that everyone was worried about Riz and called him their little angel when he was gone and that Kristen saved him almost at the expense of her own life in the Nightmare King’s forest. She never sees them together, the way they’ll risk everything for each other when the chips are down, the way they all show they care in little ways all the time ( like Fig giving him the card or Fabian’s gifts in Freshman Year). She doesn’t understand that while “the Ball” may have come from a bully on the first day of school, it turned into a term of endearment! She doesn’t see how hard they’ve been trying this year to pass their classes and such, not because it matters to them, but because they know it’s important to Riz. He never even explained the whole needing scholarships thing to them! He showed up with folders on the first day, stressed out of his mind about all of them passing together, and basically decided to get their shit together! Sure, it took Kristen and Fig a little while to do it, but that’s because they were struggling to build better habits!
I also understand how she could think Riz does all of the heavy lifting: when he presents the clues to her and he’s their lead investigator, do you think she assumed other people did the finding? Absolutely not! She doesn’t see the way they put things together by focusing on their individual strengths; she only sees Riz trying to put it all together and find the connections. Why would she know that a lot of the investigative work was done by Adaine and Kristen in sophomore year because so much of it had to do with religion? She wouldn’t!
All this to say: Sklonda is a good mom for checking in with Riz, but she also has a narrow view of things that no one else has. If she were to be exposed to the BKs more often and actually pay attention to how things work between them, I think she would be much more understanding.
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