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#the way his 'all so you would think she's the great person...that shes not' bit kinda implies he doesnt think Alphys is great like. morally
silverynight · 2 days
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Dynamight's type
Izuku has noticed that whenever someone asks Katsuki's certain questions during interviews he gets really irritated; it's usually things about love and relationships that bother him the most.
It's one of the many reasons why Izuku hasn't told his best friend he likes him romantically; maybe Katsuki is not interested in romance at all or he just hates sharing his love life with the world.
Although it's not like Izuku ever thought he had a chance; he probably doesn't. Sometimes he thinks about looking for someone to start a relationship with.
"Let's move in together," Katsuki tells him for the... actually, Izuku has lost count of how many times he has told him that.
But Izuku always thinks he doesn't mean it because it doesn't make sense.
"Why?"
"Just because..." Katsuki says this time, looking particularly frustrated.
"We don't have the need to," Izuku points out, getting a little bit confused by his friend's response.
"I know."
"Kacchan... what if one of us starts dating soon? Wouldn't that be–"
The look Katsuki throws at him is enough to make Izuku shut up immediately; the other pro hero not only looks angry, he also seems hurt.
"Are you seeing someone?" The way Katsuki asks the question makes it look like each word is hurting him somehow.
"No, but–"
"I'm not going to start dating an extra!" Katsuki growls and, as usual, he walks away more irritated than when the day started.
Izuku honestly doesn't get it.
However, he usually goes back to normal when his patrol begins.
Until a reporter finds him after an incident; just right the moment after Katsuki and Izuku manage to save a group of people from a villain.
Actually, there are a couple of reporters, one of them even tries to corner Izuku and instead of asking him about the villain or the civilians, she asks Izuku about romance.
Alright, Izuku has started to get why Katsuki gets irritated at those type of questions.
"Are you dating someone at the moment, Deku?" The young woman asks, smiling at him and using one of her fingers to play with her own hair.
Izuku doesn't understand; is she nervous?
"Uhh... no."
"That's great!"
Not that far from him, one of the reporters is asking about Katsuki's type... again.
"So what would your ideal date be, Deku?" The reporter manages to draw Izuku's attention away from his friend.
"Maybe an amusement park? Sharing a crepe?" The green haired hero doesn't mean to make it sound like a question, but interviews always make him feel flustered.
"That'd be a perfect date for me too!" The girl says. "Would you like to–"
"DO YOU REALLY WANT TO KNOW MY FUCKING TYPE?" Katsuki's loud voice cuts off the reporter who's interviewing Izuku.
"Of course, Dynamight!" It's a good thing most of the reporters are used to Katsuki's explosive personality already.
Instead of answering right away, Katsuki gets closer to Izuku and to everyone's surprise, grabs the other pro hero's freckled face and kisses him on the lips.
"There. That's my type!" Katsuki growls as Izuku's face turns completely pink. "Him. Only this nerd. Now, fuck off!"
The female reporter who was asking Izuku questions looks particularly upset about what happened, although it seems like she's a little bit reluctant to go... but she does anyway when she notices Katsuki is glaring at her.
Izuku doesn't get his hopes up, because it's obvious that Katsuki only wanted them to stop asking questions about his love life.
"But Kacchan... they're going to think we are–"
"Move in with me."
"Why?"
It feels like this is not the moment to have the same conversation all over again, but there's something different in Katsuki's eyes this time; he looks determined.
"Because I'm in love with you, oblivious nerd!"
Izuku's face is on fire, he's sure of it; Katsuki just told him he loved him. It almost seems like it's a dream.
"Are you sure, Kacchan?" His voice doesn't sound shaky at all, which is something Izuku feels ridiculously proud of.
"Of course I am! Wouldn't be asking you if I wasn't!"
After a heartbeat in which Izuku thinks about all the time they've been together and tells himself this is going to work, he nods.
"Let's move in together, Kacchan."
Just a year later, Katsuki proposes to him and of course, Izuku can't help but tear up. He's never been so happy before.
***
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paradiseismine · 2 days
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Late Night Talking - Trevor Spengler x Reader
Love note from Nina: Aaaand I’m back again with some more Finnie cuteness and filth, lovelies. My boy Trevor is way too underrated around here, so it’s about damn time we turn those tables.
Pairing: Trevor Spengler (Ghostbusters Afterlife/Frozen Empire) x f!reader
Warnings: mostly smut, but also some fluff. Also maybe this is kinda long (?) sorry not sorry etc
Summary: you visit the Spengler’s residence for a dinner party and end up having a lot more fun than you intended, if you know what I mean
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Your mom and Mrs. Spengler had become best friends, all of a sudden - neither of them had had much luck on that when they moved to the city, but ever since they first met in a 7/11 a month ago, they were inseparable.
It was a Saturday evening, and your mom was dragging you along to Mrs. Spengler’s house, for a dinner party of some sort. You weren’t in the mood, but she seemed so happy to finally have a new friend, you just couldn’t say “no” to her.
So, all dressed up in a cute black dress and strap sandals, you rang the doorbell.
- Oh, hello - a tall lanky boy with messy black hair opened the door. - Good evening, Mrs. y/l/n… And you must be y/n, right?
You nodded, smiling sweetly, as your mom greeted the boy as well.
- Hi, Trevor! Your mom told me all about you - she said, giving him a warm hug after she handed you the huge cake tray she was holding.
It was pretty heavy - your mom wouldn’t show up to dine at someone’s house without bringing dessert - but you could manage to hold it.
- Callie, there you are! - she squealed as she hurried to meet Mrs. Spengler in the kitchen, leaving you and Trevor behind.
- She loves your mom - you said to Trevor, chuckling.
- My mom loves yours too - he chuckled. - Hey, can I help you with that? - he continued, gently taking the cake tray off of your hands.
- Thank you Trev, that was quite heavy - you said, relieved. - Should we bring that to the kitchen?
So you both put the cake in the fridge and helped your moms with everything - from setting the table to organizing the kitchen.
You had a great time eating and talking to Callie, Trevor and his sister, Phoebe. After dinner was over, the moms opened up a bottle of wine and sat on the living room to talk, while Phoebe went to her room to sleep.
That left you and Trevor alone in the kitchen, talking. It was already close to midnight, and by the laughs you could hear from the couch, you were not going to leave the Spengler’s home for a long time. Halloween was just around the corner, so you asked Trevor if he was into horror movies.
- Hm, kind of… - he responded, finishing his glass of soda. - I think they’re way too unrealistic sometimes.
- Ugh, wish I felt like that too… Movies like Poltergeist and The Conjuring totally freak me out. I’m just afraid of ghosts, I guess.
Trevor nearly choked, but you couldn’t understand why.
- Do you like slasher movies though? - he asked, trying to move on with the conversation.
- Yeah, I love them! - you answered, excitedly. - My favorite one is Friday The 13th!
- The first one?
- The best one, right?
- Absolutely - he laughed, then pointing to your moms in the living room - I think they’re gonna take a while there… Wanna go upstairs and watch a movie? It can be Friday the 13th if you want.
- Of course, I’d love that! - you said and walked over to the living room with him.
- Mom, Trevor and I are going upstairs to watch a movie, ok?
- Sure darlings, go there and befriend! - your mom agreed, her voice sounding a bit different already. Good thing you were driving.
You two went up the stairs to Trevor’s room, still talking about horror movies and your personal favorites; but you noticed he would talk just as excitedly about any subject. The conversation was light and comfortable. Trevor was so nice to talk to. He was also really good looking. Something about his lanky figure, dark hair and dark eyes really stood out to you.
Up in his room, you couldn’t help but walk around and notice the various objects he had in there.
- Whoa, do you like Arctic Monkeys?
- Their “AM” album is, like, most of my will to live. - he chuckled. - So yeah, I like them a bit.
- That’s an instant classic if I’ve ever seen one, right?
Turns out, you and Trev had A LOT in common. You were into the same movies, the same music and even the same places to hang out. He was working up the courage to ask you on a date already.
- So, uh… y/n, would you… would you like to go to that record store downtown with me… Sometime? It doesn’t have to be like a date or-
You put your index finger to his lips, and his eyes went wide.
- But can it be a date, though? - you whispered, your finger leaving his lips as you put your hand on his cheek.
- S-sure - he stuttered. He was much taller than you, even with the heels you were wearing.
- I would love to - you smiled, your hand still on his cheek. - I could talk with you all night if you’d let me.
- Me too - he smiled, putting his arm around your waist and leaning in a bit. - Y/n… can I-can I kiss you? Or does asking that totally ruin the mood?
- Of course you can! - you laughed. - C’mere.
You leaned in and your lips touched his, lightly. You touched your forehead to his and looked him in the eyes. He pulled you even closer by your waist and kissed you again, way more eagerly this time. His tongue asked for entrance and you permitted it, in pure ecstasy.
- Hm - he broke the kiss - maybe we could move this over there? - he said, his head pointing to an armchair on the corner of his room. You nodded, your lips parted and swollen from the kiss.
Trevor sat down on the armchair and you sat nearly on his lap, but sideways, so your butt was down on the armchair and your legs were all over his lap.
He put his hands on your bare knees and caressed them gently as you continued to kiss, more slowly than before. Your dress was a few inches above your knees. Nothing too modest or too slutty, but Trevor secretly wished you were wearing the sluttiest dress possible, just so he could feel you up without actually lifting up your dress and risking getting slapped across the face.
Little did he know you were craving that touch. You lightly guided his hands a bit further up your thighs, giving him the permission he wanted. To touch your soft skin and get intoxicated by you.
You kept kissing him passionately, your hands wandering from his cheek to his neck to his chest. You grabbed the collar of his T-shirt and pulled him ever closer, wanting to savor him as much as you could. He let out a soft moan on your lips, so discreet you wouldn’t be able to hear it if you two weren’t all the way upstairs in his room.
Things were getting hot and heavy pretty quickly, but isn’t it always like that you’re young? His hands were gently caressing your upper thighs for a minute, as if he was mentally debating a way to ask you to take off your dress, but gave up on that idea.
His slender fingers gently slid your panties to the side, only to meet your soaking wet pussy. You hissed and moaned in his mouth as he kissed you hungrily while slowly playing with your clit. His touch was so light, it made you ache for more; but at the same time, it was perfect. He continued for a couple minutes, your moans in his ear increasing. That had to be Trevor’s new favorite sound.
- Trev - you called, your voice faint and breathy. He looked into your eyes. His gaze was dark and full of lust. His swollen red lips were slightly parted, ugh, he was so beautiful… - If you keep going, I-I…
But you couldn’t finish that sentence. Your back arched and your mouth cracked open, your body completely taken by that orgasm. Your eyes were closed for most of the time, squeezed in pleasure, but when you peeked through them to look at Trevor’s face, he was grinning like the devil. He got you good and he knew he did.
- You’re so pretty - he said, mesmerized, his fingers still touching your pussy until you closed your legs and he realized you had ridden out of your orgasm. - and you look even prettier when you cum.
You sat there in his lap for a moment, head on his shoulder, resting a little from such an intense sensation. Trevor had quite a cocky smile plastered on his face, seeming proud of himself for making a pretty girl cum. For getting the chance to make a pretty girl cum and succeeding.
- Alright, so not only you’re all tall and handsome and stuff, but you also got magic hands? - you said, your hair ruffled and your voice breathy.
- Magic hands? Really? - he laughed.
- I’m serious. - you said, laughing with him. - But now I feel the need to… reciprocate, you know?
Trevor’s breathing quickened. You sat on his lap properly now, one leg to each side of his waist, straddling him while cupping his face for another round of passionate kissing.
His kisses found their way down to your neck, gently nipping on your skin, making you shiver and squirm. His fingers started toying with your dress’ straps until he felt confident enough to pull them down slowly.
The black lacy bra you were wearing underneath was beautiful, don’t get me wrong, but the sight of your breasts is what made his mouth water. With your dress already down to your waist, he put his arms around you to try and unhook your bra. As boys normally do, it took him a few tries, but he finally got it off of your body, his hands quickly covering your breasts again, fondling them.
Your skin was so soft and smelled so good, his kisses returned to your neck and continued their way down to your chest. Your nipples were so hard already, he simply had to take them in his mouth. One at a time, he licked and sucked gently, earning some pretty urgent moans. You knew you had to keep the volume down so your mothers wouldn’t hear you two, but that couldn’t stop you from moaning softly, just enough for him to hear. Your body was a feast and he had never been this hungry in his whole life.
- I-I thought it was my turn, Trevor - you said, softly, his lips still kissing the skin around your nipples and his hands groping your waist firmly. Damn, this boy was definitely going to drive you crazy.
Kissing his lips once again, you reached for the hem of his T-shirt and slowly pulled it upwards. He helped you take his shirt off, and his bare chest was surely a sight to be seen. Back to the kissing, your hands now wandered from his cheek, to his neck, to his chest, to his belly and…
- A-are you sure? - he asked, as you were about to touch his belt to unbuckle it. He didn’t want to pressure you into anything.
- I am pretty sure - you said with a smile, playfully kissing his nose. - Can I?
He nodded eagerly, so you unbuckled his belt, unzipped his pants and pulled them down. Trevor just sat still and watched as your beautifully manicured nails were touching his belt, then his pants, then his underwear.
You knelt down in front of him, using a pillow under your knees for comfort, and pulled his body closer to the edge of the armchair. You kissed his lips one last time, then his neck, scratching his chest lightly with your long nails, causing him to moan and bite his lips to avoid making too much noise.
You kissed down his chest, your nails now scratching his waist, and finally got to his underwear.
- Can I pull these down too? - you said, your big eyes pleading.
- Yeah - he said, barely breathing. - Please.
You gave him a naughty smile and pulled down his boxers. It was impossible not to lick your lips at the sight of that cock. The perfect length, the perfect girth, and that perfect pinky tip begging to be sucked. So you did it.
You took Trevor into your mouth hungrily, as your mouth was already watering just by taking his underwear off. Your head was bobbing up and down his thick shaft, as he tried his best to hold back any louder moans.
Suddenly, he grabbed some of your hair in his right hand and pulled your mouth off of his dick gently.
- Did I hurt you? - you said, looking worried.
- No, no, princess - he answered, scared that he might’ve offended you. - It’s just… you’re so so good… and so pretty… I’m afraid I won’t last, you know?
- It’s ok babe - you reassured him, caressing his bare knee. - You pleasured me selflessly, and I’m doing the same. If you want to cum now, then do it. I’d love to get a taste…
Your mouth went right back to sucking on his dick, your both hands now also added into the mixture. After a minute or two, it was too much for him to take.
- Y/n - he called, softly. You looked him in the eyes, mouth still around his shaft. You knew what was going to happen next. - I just… Please, can I cum in your mouth?
- Mhm - you agreed, not slowing down or stopping anything you were doing.
Trevor let out a muffled groan as he came in your mouth. You swallowed his warm seed at once, gently licking his tip clean afterwards.
- Fuck, you’re a goddess - he said, his voice faint, his eyes rolling.
You laughed a little and wiped the corners of your mouth.
- And you’re a darling. I’m glad you could trust me.
- Y/n - your mom called out from downstairs. - Is the movie over already? I think we should get going…
- In a minute, mom - you yelled in response.
You turned back to Trevor as he handed you your bra and put his own shirt back on.
- I had a great time with you today, Trev. Hope we can hang out sometime.
- Of course, I’ll text you - he started - there are already so many places I thought we could go together… You might just be the best company for basically everything. Specially late night talking.
You grabbed his phone off his desk, typed in your number and handed him the phone. Realizing what you just did, he smiled and held out his hand so you would give him your phone and let him do the same.
After the exchange of phone numbers and a quick good night kiss, you two got downstairs and pretended nothing had happened.
- There you are - Callie said as she saw both of you. - What did you guys watch?
- Friday the 13th - Trevor lied for both of you. - It was her favorite horror movie, and one of my favorites too.
- Aw, how cute. I’m glad you guys are friends now - your mom said, grabbing her purse. - But those old slashers have some awkward sex scenes, don’t they? We heard their moaning from down here.
- Glad they make movies more gory and less sexually charged nowadays, right? - Callie agreed.
Your moms were drunk and probably wouldn’t remember much about tonight. Thankfully, ‘cause your face and Trevor’s got just as flushed as if you had spent the entire night sipping wine.
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elsa-fogen · 2 days
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Oh, Husk and Alastor?
Their dynamic is also pretty interesting, they kinda feel like two people who everyone thinks gets along great and are the best of friends. While in reality their friendship is fueled but a fire born from their hatred. They just have many decent moments and have a easy time understanding each other, through they often use that information to serve a selfish endeavor.
Like Alastor would mess with Husk, tease him and Husk would tell Al to get his act together so that he(Husk) doesn't have to deal with some sort of fallout (ref. when Mimzy comes by)
In general, I feel like they do get along really well, but they are in no way friends. Kinda like how you can get along well with your boss, but wouldn't really consider them a friend. And you wouldn't really want them to involve themselves in your life, but that doesn't stop Alastor. (Social conversions? What's that)
This also makes me curious, wonder what kind of dynamic Husk has with Rosie, or rather, how do you think Rosie sees Husk? Just like a pet Alastor has? Or does she actually see the person that is there? (Leaning more towards her not really seeing Husk more than a errand boy or pet of Alastor)
Though it would be fun if the first time Husk meet Rosie he thought that she might actually be willing to help him because she gives of the energy of being a very kind person around people she cares about (aka Alastor). So he tries to talk to her without Alastor present and he finally understands how they get along so well, they are both the same kind of crazy ᵔᵜᵔ
So, um- what are your thoughts on the dynamic between Alastor and Husk?
HEEEHEHHE YOU GOT ME A REASON TO TALK ABOUT MY FRESH HEADCANON ABOUT THEIR RELATIONSHIPS
OKAY SO!!
I saw a theory that Husk had children when he was alive. Keep that in mind, it's a secret tool we wanna use later
So, little bit about Alastor. He is not the guy who owns many souls. In fact, he doesn't own any (well... i have some headcanons, but it's for another time). The only soul he has is Niffty, and she's... she's whole another level.
So one day Alastor get's Husk's soul in posession and he has no idea what to do with him. Their contract is basically "you'll have to do anything i order you" but it doesn't set any boundaries for Husk. So he can insult Alastor, argue with him and so on. The only thing he cant is to try to kill Alastor, but it's obvious.
So, Alastor's just... drags him around, and Husk has to just be there all the time, and watch Alastor do stupid shit without thinking, being manipulated by Mimzy into some shenanigans and so on, because he's too powerful, kinda don't afraid of anything and little bit unhinged. And Husk is trying to be that voice of sanity for Alastor (and maybe Niffty). Like in canon, he tries to warn Alastor about Mimzy nd at some point seems genuinely worried about him. Just a bit. And also, in that scene in final song, when Alastor appears again, Husk doesn't seem happy but still goes for group hug.
I think he sees Alastor as a child he has to babysit, but the child is so spoiled, that he doesn't give a shit about his warnings. Maybe Al reminds him of his own children at some degree. And so Husk is attached to Alastor in some weird unhealthy way, he cares about him and tries to protect, even if it pointless.
The worst part of it is that Alastor doesn't see him more than funny fluffy cat-guy-pet. He almost never takes him seriously and doesn't listen to what he says. So Husk may try to reach out to Rosie, to make her to reason with Alastor. But she's basiclly "i could fix him, but whatever is wrong with him is way funnier". I think she listens to Husk's worries about another Alastor's scheme, but she also trusts Alastor? I mean, she belives that he'll be fine. But if something seems to dangerous, she can agree and talk to Alastor.
After all, Husk was an overlord, and i think Rosie could know him before he made a deal with Alastor. So, i think she doesn't think of Husk as just Al's pet, she knows who he is. After all, not every sinner can become an overlord. But still,
So, last thing. I saw that one comic where after episode 5 Alastor admits that Husk was right about Mimzy and i really love this thought. I think Alastor also likes Husk's presence at some degree. Maybe they could build something healtier, maybe Alastor, after losing part of his powers, would listen to Husk more. But still it's all fucked up while Alastor owns his soul.
And also, i'd really love to see something of just Alastor, Husk and Niffty getting into some shenanigans together, this would be so much fun. Al and Niff who are just 2 unhinged gremlins and Husk who's done with their shit, but still cares about them and can't just leave, and it's not because of the deal. Like i imagine when husk is trying to reason with Alastor that he's about do something stupid and dangerous and Alastor's like well i don't force you to follow us this time, but Husk still goes with them because who else would watch after these two idiots?
So i think, i get your point about them!
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hajihiko · 1 day
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Hey. So, I saw your Chiaki & Fuyuhiko comic that I like to call "Look on the Bright Side" (since it didn't have an official name in the post itself), and I loved it. I loved seeing Nanami & Kuzuryu interact with each other with the former comforting the latter on Peko and complimenting on how brave he was to save his friend, the scene between Fuyuhiko & Peko during the latter's execution, and then the scene of you making a throwback to your DR3 rewrite from your Talky Talky Tuesday content where the DR2 cast witness Human Chiaki's death and chose not to help her because of how awful Junko's influence on them was. It was heartwarming, bittersweet, and terrifying all at the same time, and as @/self-in-dulled-gent put it in their reblog of the comic, the 4th & 5th panels depicting your DR3 rewrite is a cool and visceral indication of how far the DR2 cast had fallen into despair. Heck, both the comic & the rewrite even serve as inspiration towards my au/rewrite/reimagine of DR3's Despair Arc & how Junko corrupts the DR2 cast into despair. So, thank you so much for the inspiration. I really appreciate it.
With all that in mind, I have some questions I wanna ask you regarding both the comic & DR3 rewrite, if you don't mind.
May I have your permission to do a review on your DR3 Rewrite post for my Advian Reads & Reviews content (which in case you're curious about, AR&R is reading review series where I read something, like fanfiction for example, while also doing a review on it at the same time, giving my thoughts on whatever I'm reviewing as well as potentially even sharing my own stories)?
Will you ever showcase the bonus panel of the rest of the class witnessing Chiaki's death that you mentioned in the comic's tags?
Who is the 5th person on the right between Kazuichi & Hiyoko in the 4th panel (I'm assuming it's Sonia based on the hairstyle, but I thought I'd ask for some confirmation)?
Will we ever get to see the dialogue of Chiaki not resenting Hajime/Izuru for not helping her you also mentioned in the comic's tags?
Follow up on that previous question, do you think it's possible that we might also get to see if Chiaki resents her classmates for not helping her, or if she would also get it with them like she did with Hajime/Izuru?
How exactly does Junko kill Chiaki in front of her classmates? Does she still have her go through her execution like in canon, or does she kill her in a different way, and if so, then how? I ask because I saw Nanami had blood coming from her eyes & mouth (making it look like Junko literally pulled her eyes out), there's blood on her hoodie & left thigh, and she appears to have been stabbed on her right side.
And those are my questions. In regards to gaining your permission to review your DR3 rewrite, if you do grant permission, great! I'll be sure to credit you and give you a shoutout too if you do. And if you don't, then I'm content with that and will understand and respect the reason behind your refusal, whatever that reason may be. Feel free to respond back to me whenever you get the chance. Thank you and have a wonderful day/afternoon/night. 🤗💕❤️🧡💛💚💙💜💖💕🤗
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that's one heck of an ask so I'm using a readmore:
Thank you! I remember that comment hehe I'm really glad people like it
1: sure! Just know that I'm like, you know, just a fan and a hobbyist and not even really a writer so I'm not saying my rewrite is more right than anything else!
2: the bonus panel was actually everyone else's deaths (in SDR2) since they all sort of died alone, too. But it didn't feel relevant enough, I prrrrrrrrobably don't have the sketch anymore
3: yep that's Sonia
4: I'll be totally real i don't remember what I was thinking there at all. Sssssorryyyyyy
5: I think Chiaki, if she got to see the events of SDR2 as the AI, wouldn't resent her classmates so much as feel sorry for them and be disappointed. At the same time though I think she might be shocked at what they're capable of. Maybe she can't help but be a bit bitter, who knows. Hajime/Izuru is a different deal since that guy literally got his brains scrambled, can't really blame him. (sort of like deleting all the save data, maybe?)
6: the blood and amounts of it was more about the drama lol. But I thought the obstacle was like, a little too fantastical, not serious enough, so in my rewrite she straight up beats Chiaki to death with some kind of instrument. I think the image of Junko doing something so realistic (and slow) while everyone watches passively is even worse.
Thanks for asking beforehand! 💙
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darnell-la · 1 day
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Stepdad - Eddie Munson
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pairing: stepdad!eddie munson x badgirl!reader
warning: step-family sex, age gap, stuffed animal holding (I swear, it's not what you think!), hair pulling, choking, spanking during sex, orgasms, creampie, gripping, begging, loud sex, rough sex, etc.
WE DO NOT ALLOW COPIES OF OUR STORIES!
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3rd person pov
Y/n and Eddie didn’t get off great when they first met. They always had arguments and said backhanded things about each other. Their mother couldn’t fix it, but the more it happened, the more y/n realized her mother didn’t care.
Her mother has never been nice to her. She took custody knowing y/n would get along better with her father than her mother, yet she doesn’t care about that either.
After y/n’s father died, the relationship died completely between her and her mother. Her mom knew that and went out to find someone she could finally care about.
Eddie Munson is the lucky man she found, and well, he feels like he isn’t so lucky. Yes, he loved y/n’s mom at first, but after he noticed the way she treated and talked about y/n, he fell out of it.
The only reason why he’s in the very house right now, sitting on the couch and watching a movie while his wife gets dressed, is because he felt like he couldn’t leave y/n.
Her first thought was that his feelings towards y/n were feelings he’d have if he had his own kids, but the older she got, the more he noticed.
The dating. Her clothes. Her phone contacts. Her friends. The parties. How she spoke. How she matured. Everything hit him at once it seemed.
“Hey, babe! I’m almost done getting ready. Are you sure you don’t want to come along!?” Y/n’s mom yelled downstairs from upstairs.
As she and Eddie yelled back and forth at each other, y/n got herself ready. Whenever her mom goes out, y/n sneaks out. I mean. She’s almost a full adult and the drinking age will be legal soon. She refuses to sit back and wait.
“Y/n, I’m leaving!” Her mom yelled outside the door then walked off to go downstairs. “Make sure she doesn’t annoy you all night,” Y/n’s mom told Eddie before giving him a peck.
“Oh, she won’t. She’s always in her room anyways,” Eddie said before talking about a few things with Y/n’s mother until she finally left.
“Aye, y/n!? You hungry!?” Eddie asked, standing in front of the stairs. “No!” Y/n yelled back, still touching up her makeup. She’s always overdramatic when she walks out of the house.
“Oh, well, okay,” Eddie slightly felt hurt by the way she always answered him. She doesn’t mean to, after years of living in this household, she feels like everyone’s against her.
Y/n quickly got finished before sneaking out of her second-story window. It’s always a hassle, but she got it and she knows she can sneak through the back window when she comes back because Eddie will be asleep by then as always.
“Hey, y/n! Why don’t you come down and watch a movie! I know it’s a bit late, but I think we should, I don’t know, hang out more!” Eddie suggested at the bottom of the stairs, hoping she’d say yes but she never answered.
“C’mon, y/n, we should really get along more! Your mom’s gone. Maybe I’ll let you have a sip of my beer or something,” Eddie suggested anything at this point, but she still didn’t answer.
Eddie slowly made his way upstairs with a sigh, talking to himself to rehearse what he what to say to her. She’s basically her daughter, and they never talk. He hates not seeing her.
“Sweetheart, c’mon. Don’t leave ya old man hanging,” Eddie said outside of her door. “Y/n, seriously,” Eddie knocked before placing his hand on the handle to open the door but it was locked.
“Hey, what did I and your mother discuss? No more locked doors,” Eddie said which he didn’t totally agree with, but she was not answering him, making him panicked.
Eddie wasted no time to push the door open with his strength and then grow a shocked look across his face. “Y/n!?” Eddie shouted out, hoping she was hiding in the room until he saw that her window was open.
“Son of a bitch,” Eddie cussed as he pulled his cheap phone out of his pocket. It took him a while, but he got to the tracking app he downloaded his phone and secretly hid on hers with her mother’s permission.
“Who the fuck-“ Eddie cut himself off, noticing she was in a familiar rich neighborhood. He hasn’t stepped foot in that neighborhood since Steve moved. He’s not welcomed there by certain people.
“And who are you?” An older voice said behind y/n, making her jump a bit. “Oh, hey. I’m, uh, my name's y/n,” she stuttered as she placed her 4th cup of the night down.
“Aren’t supposed to be drinkin’, hm?” The man asked, making her blush in slight fear and embarrassment. She hated it when people noticed her age. She only has a year to go.
“Aw, don’t worry. This is my party anyway. I’d go to jail if I called the cops to come get you,” he said. Yn sighed in relief before picking her back up and holding a small conversation with him.
He seemed nice, but she knows older people’s intentions when they hold conversations with kids they’ve never seen or talked to before.
“Where’s your boyfriend tonight?” Jason asked. He gave him her name a few minutes ago when he started bragging about his golden days in high school. “I don’t have one,” she awkwardly smiled.
“Well, isn’t that something,” he smirked down at her as he took a sip of his beer. “Why is that? Daddy won’t let ya?” He asked. “Stepdad, and no, that’s not why. I just- I don’t like immature boys,” she said, making Jason chuckle.
“Hm, really? Want someone older?” He asked. “Kinda, yeah,” she admitted. “That’s called daddy issues, princess,” Jason said as he leaned toward her. She didn’t notice because she was giggling to herself. After all, he knows he isn’t wrong.
“I can help you with that, you know?” He said, not inches from her face. “Oh,” she said, growing shy. She hasn’t been hit on a man this close before. This is different than the other times.
Y/n went to speak, but she focused on a man at the front door. It’s her stepdad. “H-Hey, I’ll talk to you later, okay?” Y/n said before quickly speeding off towards the stairs.
As soon as she took her eyes off of Eddie, it was like his eyes quickly connected to her figure walking upstairs. He knew she had seen him. She looked in a rush to get up.
As Eddie looked around, he heard a familiar voice call out y/n’s name. At first, he’d thought it was one of y/n’s friends maybe, but when he noticed who it was, his blood boiled.
Jason Carver was talking to his stepdaughter. What a creep. He’s always gotten what he wanted back then. He’s always gotten what Eddie wanted…
Eddie quickly stormed upstairs, wasting no time barging into every room there was until he saw y/n trying to climb out a window in this kid's room.
He knew this house was familiar. Jason had kids with Chrissy, but they’ve recently divorced, so their kids moved from one house to the other.
“Nah uh,” Eddie said as he got ahold of y/n and pulled her in. Y/n sighed in anger, angry that she’d finally been caught. “What the hell are you thinking!?” Eddie shouted.
“Was just having fun,” y/n rolled her eyes as she crossed her arms. “Having fun? At a grown man’s house!?” Eddie yelled at her as she continued to give attitude-like looks.
“You’re not my real dad, so you have no say in my life,” Y/n said with full confidence. Eddie completely stopped talking, surprised at her words at first. He knew she always felt like that, but he wasn’t ready for it to come out of her mouth.
“You’re right. I'm not, but I’m still trying to protect you, and this is not safe. We’re leaving,” Eddie demanded as he went to grab y/n’s wrist, but she pulled back and slapped his hand away.
“Don’t fuckin’ touch me. I’m staying here whether you like it or not,” y/n said, staying her ground against her stepfather. “Oh, is that so?” He asked, making her nod her head.
“If you stay and drink more than you already have. I can spell the damn liquor. Then whatever happens to you, is not my fault. I warned you,” he said, hoping she’d get scared about a possible situation, but she’s not a kid anymore.
“Okay? Not like you cared anyways,” Y/n said. “What are you even talking about!? I’ve always cared for you but you make it so fucking hard to! You always bitch around and leave after a minor agreement that you started!” Eddie yelled in her face.
Y/n’s face instantly changed, as well as her attitude. Hearing that come from Eddie is making her feel bad because it’s true. She pushes away.
“Whatever,” y/n said as her eyes teared up a bit. “No, there’s no whatever! There’s never a whatever! I’m trying to fix us, and you’re just letting it die! Stop letting shit die with people who care for your y/n!” Eddie grew angry.
He’s been wanting to say things for years, but he felt that it was inappropriate because she’s not his daughter.
“Eddie, just leave me alone,” Y/n said as she turned her body to leave, but Eddie got in her face before backing her up to a bed in the room as he kept going.
“You’re always leaving. Always avoiding arguments. You’re stuck up and a fuckin’ brat. You’re an adult but a little fucking brat,” Eddie said as y/n leaned her upper body back as Eddie’s got closer.
“I just-“ y/n tried saying but Eddie shut her up by grabbing her face with a hand. “Shut the fuck up!” Eddie yelled loudly. So loud, it made her ears ring and the room echo.
“I’m done with your shit. Your mom never does anything about this fucking attitude,” Eddie spoke after a few seconds of silence. “Well, I am,” Eddie added before pushing Y/n’s body hard, making her fall on the bed behind her.
“Hey, what the fuck,” Y/n said as she tried leaning back up, angry that he put his hands in her. “What did I say!?” Eddie yelled again, making y/n look up at him. The view she saw, widened her eyes.
“Eddie,” Y/n said low as she watched him continue what he was doing. He quickly pulled his belt off of the straps and then threw them right next to y/n on the bed before messing around with his jeans.
“Eddie?” Y/n asked, hoping he’d answer and maybe calm down at her low and calm voice. “No speaking,” Eddie said as he pulled his pants and boxers down, just enough for his cock to fall out.
Usually when y/n has sex with a boy, their cocks jump and slap against their lower stomach. Eddie’s fell out from his big and heavy he is.
“Eddie, what the fuck are you doing? What- What are you thinking!?” Y/n panicked at the sudden feeling of being trapped in mixed emotions and in a room with her stepdad.
“Spread,” Eddie demanded as he looked down at his stepdaughter. “What!? Hell no,” y/n said as she got up but he pushed her right back down with a sigh and eye roll.
“Spears your fucking legs. Now!” He seemed more serious this time, but y/n couldn’t just give herself up to him. Her stepdad.
Y/n quickly turned around to crawl off the bed, but he quickly grabbed her ankles and pulled her back. She tried grabbing things to hold on to, but the big stuffed animal didn’t help her.
“Told you. Avoidance,” Eddie said under his breath as he forced y/n to her knees on the bed then pushed her back down, making sure her ass was nice and spread in the air as her face was smudged against the teddy bear.
“How come you don’t dress like this around me?” Eddie chuckled before ripping y/n’s fishnets right where her panties stuck out. Now he has a clear view of her cunt barely firing in her tight panties.
“Does your mom know about this? Because I don’t think she’ll take too lightly of her daughter being a little whore,” Eddie’s words should bruh y/n, but they didn’t. She was taking it all in.
“I bet you’ll start crying like you always do,” y/n could hear the smirk on Eddie’s mouth as his top rubbed up and down her clothes lips until he finally decided to rip them apart.
“Jessie Christ,” Eddie groaned under his breath as he reached out to wipe his fingers along her folds. “So wet,” he spoke before putting his fingers in his mouth and sucking. “And sweet,” he added.
“Eddie, I don’t think we should be-“ y/n tried speaking until a hard slap came down on her ass, making her cry out loud. “What the fuck did I say? Shut. The fuck. Up,” Eddie grabbed y/n’s hair to pull her back and whisper those words in her ear.
“Don’t make me hurt you,” he said then pushed her back down. Y/n whined low, knowing she couldn’t say anything right now, or he’d definitely hurt her, but she knew he would make sure she got some fun out of it.
“Let’s see if my cock fits in this pretty pussy,” Eddie spread y/n’s right cheek wide until her hole opened a little for him to see and scan how he should enter her.
Before she knew it, his top finally pushed at her entrance. “Mhm,” y/n moaned as she jerked at the feeling of being stretched so slowly. “P-Please,” y/n begged, not knowing if she’d be able to take him all.
“Y/n,” Eddie spoke her name to warn her, she she quickly got the sign before he forced his way all the way inside of her. “Fuuuck!” Eddie groaned loudly as he threw his head back.
“So tight,” Eddie grunted as he pulled back slowly, watching his stepdaughter's cunt wrap tightly around him, trying not to let him go. “Fuckin’ suckin’ me back in,” Eddie groaned before pushing back into her.
“Agh!” Y/n moaned loudly into the teddy bear. “Take it, baby,” Eddie said before thrusting his hips at a good paste, letting his little girl get used to him so he could finally ruin her.
“I knew this was what you wanted, baby. Always saw it in those slutty eyes,” Eddie spoke as he gripped y/n’s ass to pull her into him. The slapping and wet noises didn’t take long to fill the room.
“C-Can’t,” y/n whined as her legs began to shake. “What the fuck did I-“ Eddie cut himself if quickly, noticing he’s been giving her too many chances. He’s done with that.
Eddie quickly leaned to the side and grabbed the belt he had thrown to the side of her earlier. He wasted no time wrapping the leather and metal part around his hands before extending the belt and then bringing it down onto her ass.
“Ow!” Y/n cried out loud. She’s never been whooped before. “Shut it!” Eddie kept fucking into her as he slapped her ass with the cheap belt he’s always thought about using on her.
“You’ll never be too old to get spankin’,” Eddie said, bringing another slap down to her ass as she beg for him to stop. At first, she couldn’t handle it and wanted it all to stop, but after awhile few more spanks, she noticed how much the knot in her stomach got hard to hold.
“F-Fuck, Eddie, fuck!” She moaned loudly as she gripped the stuffed animal tightly and came all around his cock. “That’s it, baby, that’s it. Keep cumin’. Keep it comin’,” Eddie threw the belt away before gripping y/n’s waist to speed up his fuck.
Y/n’s stepdad threw his head back, breathing and huffing like an animal as his stepdaughter's ass clapped back onto his pelvis and lowers stomach, repeatedly.
“Oh god, Eddie,” y/n moaned as her cunt throbbed around his thick cock. “Call me daddy, y/n,” Eddie said, knowing it sounded wrong, but he had to. “Huh?” Y/n asked softly, still dizzy from the orgasm and also a bit shy to do such a thing to her actual stepdad.
“Call me daddy, sweetheart. Fuck, I need it. I fuckin’ need it, baby,” Eddie’s voice cracked and a few moans slipped from his mouth. He could feel himself right around the corner, and he needed to hear her before he came.
“D-Daddy,” y/n shyly moaned, making Eddie groan and grip her sides harder than before. “Fuck, y/n, more. I n-need more,” Eddie begged his own stepdaughter to call him daddy.
“Daddy, please,” y/n finally moaned loud enough for him to be satisfied. He was going to leave it at that before she kept going. “P-Please, Daddy, please,” she kept moaning. “Agh, fuck, y/n,” Eddie leaned over to grab the moaning girl's hair and arch her back enough for him to watch her ass clap back at him and see her facial expressions.
“Daddy, fuck!” Y/n shook again as her clit began throbbing out of control. “Fuck, y/n, fuck,” Eddie cussed before slamming deep into her throbbing pussy to fill her until there was nothing left.
“Ah, shit,” Eddie’s voice cracked as he fell slumped onto y/n’a back, slightly crushing her, but she had no problem with it. Feeling him still leak inside her as her pussy throbbed around his cock was one of the best things that’s happened to her tonight.
“Divorcing her, we move out, and we get together. I knew what kind of person she was years ago, but I couldn’t leave you. You’ve always been drown to me whether it was a little girl who needed help or a 20-year-old who needed a man to take care of her,” Eddie spoke before he lit y/n’s blunt that he rolled up for her in his car.
They decided to take a ride around the neighborhood until they came to a stop at this park to talk and smoke.
“I’m fine with that. I don’t like her anyways,” y/n admitted as Eddie chuckled and placed a hand on y/n’s lap. “You know, this is all daddy issues, right? There’s no way in hell I’d take you if it weren’t for that,” y/n joked, making Eddie laugh.
“Oh, yes you would have. You’d have no choice,” Eddie leaned into y/n with a smile before she leaned in herself to kiss him. The kiss felt like no other before to the both of them.
“You know how pretty you are?” Eddie asked in between their kiss. “How about you show me?” Y/n asked as she grabbed his joint and placed her and his down before quickly moving on top of him.
“Out here, princess? What if we get caught? I’m not gonna stop fuckin’ you,” Eddie warned. That already made her pussy throb. Again. “Then do it,” she challenged as she quickly pulled his heavy cock out and slid down onto him.
“Fuck,” she moaned low as Eddie threw his head back. “Gotta love or you’ll get stuck,” Eddie joked as he grabbed a hand full of y/n’s ass to pull her up and then push her back down.
“What if I wanna get stuck, Daddy?” She teased, as he shackled with a groan. “Don’t,” he said as he knee-bucked into her at the thought of her calling him that. He knows he shouldn’t like it, but he loves it so fucking much.
“Why not, Daddy?” She asked as she slowly leaned into his neck and began kissing and leaving bite marks. “Y-You’re mom, sweetheart,” Eddie made sure she knew the consequences.
“Fuck me in front of her. Who gives a shit,” y/n moved inches from Eddie’s lips with a smile as he smiled. “You’re such a bad girl,” Eddie pushed up into y/n, making her throw her head back with an eye roll.
“That’s what I need,” Eddie spoke as he grabbed one of the joints to take a few hits before passing it on to y/n. “I fuck a lot, so I need you to keep up,” y/n said, slightly triggering Eddie’s head.
“Oh, I will, but may I ask, who have you been fucking?” Eddie grabbed the joint from y/n’s hand so he could take his hits. He still doesn’t want his girl getting too high. She’s not at the legal age yet.
“Doesn’t matter now,” y/n said as Eddie kept the joint in his mouth and slowly snacked his hands up her body until he gripped her neck tightly. “You should have never told me,” Eddie said before using his free hand to lean his seat back.
Eddie moved y/n around and he got in a good position to fuck into y/n as she tried keeping her body up. “G-God,” y/n tried laughing it off, but the way his cock abused her inside made it hard.
“S-Slow down, fuck!” Y/n placed her hands on his chest but slipped and fell against him. Eddie gripped her and pulled her face to the side so he could keep the blunt in his mouth as he pounded up into her like he’d never done before.
“Think I can’t keep up now?” Eddie asked before laughing as y/n moaned in the crook of his neck. “Fuck, Daddy,” y/n tried teasing, but she’s in no position for that right now.
Eddie placed the joint down as he took a complete halt to his movements. Y/n’s stepdad roughly turned Y/n around and pushed her back onto the seat.
“Are you mad?” Y/n slightly giggled as Eddie came in between her legs and then slammed into her, causing her to scream loudly. He quickly covered his mouth because his car windows were down.
“Shut the fuck up,” he spoke, back in angry mode as he gripped y/n’s hair with his free hand and pulled her head back. “Agh!” Y/n moaned loudly as her eyes rolled back and her legs began to shake.
“Yeah,” y/n growled as he licked y/n’s cheek and down to her neck before sucking and leaving bite marks. Eddie groaned on her neck as y/n groaned into his palm and came around him again tonight.
The both of them couldn’t get enough of each other. Who knew something like this could happen to people who once couldn’t have a simple and normal conversation with each other.
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cloveroctobers · 17 hours
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SHOW YOU WHY — EVAN “BUCK” BUCKLEY x READER x 118: [Spring Prompts]
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A/N: I’m excited to see what the rest of season 7 brings us! This piece can fit for both Buck (since there’s some hints of a crush between reader + Buck—if you squint!) and the rest of the 118. I’m just thrilled to see them all back on screen so I wanted to include everyone in this.
WARNINGS: gave the gender-neutral reader some background & mentions of a tough upbringing + use of curse words!!!
PROMPTS ARE FROM HERE & I’m using: 3. “Welcome to ~allergies~” + 20. “IT’S SPRINGTIME MUTHA-FUCKERS.”
<- read my previous flop of a spring prompt here.
𓇼☾☼𓇼☾☼ 𓇼☾☼𓇼☾☼ 𓇼☾☼𓇼☾☼ 𓇼☾☼𓇼☾☼
Anywhere but here you wanted to be.
You could have gotten out of this too, just like the mayor’s ball back in December but you personally didn’t want to receive an ear-full of a voicemail from your aunt yet again. So you dealt with it (being here on time-except you actually weren’t in your aunt’s eyes) putting in the work to also give “orders” rather than instructions to the workers while she had other hired workers tend to her full attire.
She won a honorary award just last month so she planned on parading that around her birthday party. It wasn’t the smartest move having it right at the entry way of the home, sitting on the center piece of a circular oak table that her great-grandfather built, with party goers but since the spring weather decided to stick in California, your aunt was more than willing to have this gathering out back but not without having most of her guests walk through the front doors first.
The main reason to have this party was for the attendees to constantly compliment the view of the vineyard out back. You already knew your aunt’s (by marriage) game, having the honor of being raised by her from the time you were thirteen. You just wished you could close your eyes, squeeze them really tight to the point that they hurt, and this would be over.
Thankfully an hour into the party, your uncle shows up, rushing in from his work trip out in Finland—don’t ask—brushing his lips against your hairline and giving you a tight side hug before he’s whisked off by his high energy wife of twenty years. That gave you enough time to sneak away from the boring and prying conversations, the set up of trying to date one of the attendees, and hide for a little bit before your cover was blown and you were thrown back into the party of socializing.
Another forty-five minutes pass and you’re getting a text that has you jumping to your feet, swaying a bit before you excuse yourself back into the mediterranean home to greet the guests you’ve been waiting for.
Yanking the door open you yell, “IT’s SPRING TIME MUTHA-FUCKERS! Welcome to my family’s place and I’m so glad you guys could make it.”
Chimney smirks around the chewing of his gum, “can’t say I’ve been greeted like that ever but I’m not complaining! as long as I get to have whatever it is you’ve had.”
You tilt your head to the side at the spikey haired man, “Chim! How many times do I have to tell ya? I’m not a drinker…I’m just spreading all things…spring?”
“I can tell with that outfit.”
A elbow goes to his gut from Maddie while Hen scoffs with a shake of her head at her best friend, who’s now rubbing his torso.
You’re waving the group all in, hugging Athena as she says, “your family has a mighty big house.”
“Yeah, I was just about to say what did they do again?” Eddie is next in embracing you after almost doing a full spin in the entry way, staring up at the high ceilings.
Buck is last to pull you into a hug, lightly rocking you both from side to side while you hold his back, “Can’t believe you grew up here.”
You shrug, “It’s just a house of an Architect and a mayor.”
“You must have had crazy parties here,” Buck is grinning wildly while Eddie is rolling his eyes at him.
“Of course Evan would be the one to think about the parties,” Maddie stares over at her younger brother who’s shameless about his daydreams of what that may have looked like.
You lifted your shoulders, “anyways! Make yourselves comfy but stay away from the Rueger’s—they’re swingers and may try to encourage you into joining their underground society club. A good portion of the people here are uppity but there’s a sprinkle of good ones that you won’t want to kick up the ass.”
“Oh! Say no more, I know exactly who I’m talking to.” Athena shoots a look to Bobby who’s pleading with his eyes to his wife, to just enjoy the party and not interrogate but Athena wouldn’t be Athena if she didn’t go investigate.
Bobby squeezes your shoulder on his way by but keeps his eyes on Athena’s retreating form, “Its good to see you and thanks for the invitation. I’m going to do my best and make sure things don’t erupt into chaos.”
You nod your head, expecting this but let out a sigh although there’s a smile on your lips. Hen takes a step closer to you as you’re now humming, swaying your hands about as if they were floating on water. “Uh, you sure you’re alright? You seem…a little off?”
“What do you mean?” You question, hands moving to float above Hen’s shoulders, almost as if you’re not aware you’re doing this.
This gains the other’s attention as the low haired woman peeks from left to right while you’re making a wave with your hands. “Stop that and hold still.”
“Why? The air never does.”
Which earns a chuckle from Chimney while Hen grips your shoulders, scanning your face and finally focuses on the end of your brow to the lid of your eye.
“Hen, what’s up?” Buck quizzes, eyes steady on you two.
Hen shushes him while she keeps her eyes on you, “how many fingers am I holding up?”
You blink then smile, “two caterpillars,” you speak so matter of factly, ready to spin away from the conversation but Hen is pulling you back by the shoulders.
“Hen—
Chimney tries this time and Maddie is furrowing her brows also confused.
“I think they’re having an allergic reaction.” Hen concludes before directing the rest of her words to you, “your eye area is swelling up and if you didn’t take anything, I’d say you’re also a little disoriented? Maybe even experiencing some brain fog?”
You shrug, “must have been the sea bass or was it trout? that Eitan guy tried to share with me. Whatever, let’s have some fun now that my friends are here.”
You’re dancing now, although it feels like your brain is spinning in slow-motion, yet the outside music is pretty faint.
Buck has his eyes in slits, “who the hell is Eitan?”
“And why was he feeding you?” Eddie added, he didn’t hear any updates about your dating life either and he was sure if it was true, Buck would have been the first to tell him instead.
Maddie stares at the two ridiculous men, “they didn’t say the guy was feeding them.”
Chimney leans towards Hen as her face still holds concern, fingertips lightly pressing on the lymph nodes in your neck which you laugh at the sensation, “Want me to search the house to see what I can find? You don’t think they’re going to stop breathing any time soon do you?”
The way Buck and Eddie snap their attention to the dark haired man’s words; burning their eyes into his frame, makes Chimney realize that it doesn’t hurt to turn down his bluntness some but Hen thinks nothing of it.
“How!” Maddie hisses his name from behind, while Chim holds his hands up to show he has no ill-intent, you were his friend too.
Hen starts, “I don’t think they consumed enough to get to that point but—
“Hey, aren’t you allergic to all things seafood anyway? Why would that jackass give that to you?” Buck interrupts with a cross of his arms, becoming irritated.
Eddie also states, “and why would your tío and tía have that here? Surely they know your health history.”
Maddie also can’t help but to ask in a much more compassionate approach, “How exactly did this happen?”
“I got caught up in the love story Eitan’s ninety year old grandmother was telling me on the right about the love letters she received from her husband in the navy. Eitan’s calling my name from the left to try this and next thing I know, I’m eating fish.” You notify, hoping that answered this test.
Buck scrunches up his nose, “who does this guy think he is? Just spoon feeding you without even knowing your likes, dislikes, and what you can’t have!”
Eddie asserts in agreement as Buck begins to pace now, “I’m sorry but your relatives screwed up.”
“The Tramp too.” Chimney jokes.
You tilt your head to the side while Hen glares and Maddie raises her eyebrows, wanting the man to expand on that.
“Hello! Lady and the tramp anyone? This Eitan guy is obviously the tramp—not your aunt.” Chimney sheepishly smiles, “whew, tough crowd!”
Hen is back to massaging your neck in search of any inflammation while you rant, “Well as auntie Katrina says: you can’t please everyone and sometimes you have to do what you have to do to get to the top. She probably just forgot with all the things on her mind? she was the main one trying to push a love connection between Eitan and I. Also you guys should have seen her earlier. She was all over the place and had to have me take over.” You pull away, coughing into your sleeve, struggling a bit to clear your throat.
The five glance at each other.
You were part of the 118, first somewhat reserved and a little shy rather than closed off but similar to Bobby in a sense when you first joined. It took time to get you to open up, even to Buck who was friendly with everyone. You transferred to the station six months after Buck so he had no issue taking you underneath his wing even if you were complete opposites. It was safe to say that majority of the crew didn’t care for your aunt, simply from the way she spoke to you, and hearing how you tried to sweep the way she treated you growing up away. It was evident verbal abuse but you felt like you owed her something since she stepped in as a mother figure to raise you after the tragedy of losing your own mother.
Part of you knew you shouldn’t feel guilty and that she was the adult who married your biological uncle who was always away—working and that it should have been a given. However when people make you feel like they’re doing you a favor instead of simply caring about you, you just may start to question everything.
Unfortunately, you were the second guesser because of that but not when it came to the field. You became a different person out on the job, quickly thinking and analyzing everything before sprinting into action and that was something the 118 admired.
Maddie and Eddie both share a nod before she speaks, “okay…Eddie and I are going to have a chat with this Eitan guy.”
Buck approved of that although he wouldn’t have minded having a word with Eitan himself, especially if they were all thinking the same thing. Once his eyes flicked back to you after the pair left the room, he noticed the change in your skin gradually and that didn’t sit well with him. So yeah, maybe it was best he stayed behind.
Hen asks you, “Do you have your EpiPen?”
You’re zoning out a bit, eyes disconnecting some but you’re nodding your head as if you’re listening.
So Hen took that as a negative.
“Chim, check the bathrooms for Prednisone or any type of corticosteroid? Even Peppermint oil. If not, try the kitchen for pineapple or even ice just in case.” Hen informs while Chim dips his head before heading off.
Hen smiles as she gently guides you to the stairs which are to the right of the front door, “here, let’s have you sit.”
“But I want to dance!”
“We can do that later,” Buck expresses while following you two, “we just want to make sure you’re okay first and that there’s no funny business going on here.”
Pressing your cheek into your balled up fist you say, “fine…I’ll tell you guys what going on. I’ll come clean.”
Hen and Buck meet each other’s eyes before they peer down at you. Sitting up straight, you exhale and begin to flap your arms like wings, “welcome to…allergies.”
Buck honestly found this a little cute although he didn’t appreciate the increase in size of your brow and eye now but at least you were in good spirits. Even if it seemed like the rest of the 118 were speculating something much more than a simple case of allergies.
“I’m going to move things further along and find the kitchen. Buck, Call out to me if anything changes.” Hen decides before making her exit.
He calls out to her, “You got it.” Then he’s turning back to stand in front of you while you beam up at him, “what’s going on in that field full of daisies of a mind of yours?”
“It’s actually Lillie’s but,” you clear the scratch of your throat again, “I don’t know, I felt kinda anxious being back here but knew I would be okay once you were the first to agree on showing up.”
Buck furrows his brow at the last bit of the sentence, “did you think I wouldn’t?”
“Well…you’ve been busy with Natalia.” You’re blinking your inflamed eye to see if it was tingly or sticky, “Didn’t want to intrude on your quality time.”
“You wouldn’t be, you’re actually one of my best friends and it’s always cool for us to hang out whenever,” Buck replies, “by the way that relationship is over with…and you’ve got that same look on your face as Eddie.”
You actually imagined yourself to look like that one Ryan Gosling gif but only because you were the last to know.
You breathe out a laugh afterwards, “Sheesh! I’m not going to say finally or I told you so because she was super pretty and helped you pick out a couch which was nice and…are you okay?”
Buck chuckles at your mind still wandering all over the place in conversations, “the couch and I are just fine! Thanks for asking.”
You hum, resting your head against the wall.
“So what’s this Eitan guy like?” Buck suddenly probes.
You blink, “think: tall dark and handsome.”
Buck blurts out with a furrow of his brows, “Sasquatch?”
“…if that’s what you’re into.” Laughter bubbles in your voice at the expression on Buck’s face now.
He holds his hands out, “I’m not even going to entertain that.”
“Aw but it’ll be fun.”
Buck plops down beside you, almost taking up a good portion of the uncomfortable steps. He brushes his shoulder against yours and you meet each other’s gaze.
“I’ve missed you, you know?”
Those words right there almost wiped all weird feelings you were having before and after you ate that food. You were never one to think that anyone noticed if you were around or not so hearing Buck say this to you, made you feel warm inside—better even. Somewhat.
“You taking off for a while made sense,” Buck starts with an exhale, “but I didn’t think that time away included spending it with your aunt Kat.”
Buck didn’t hide his dislike of the older woman but out of the respect he had for you, he kept his feelings to himself yet that didn’t mean he didn’t go off about her to Eddie or Maddie when she clearly upset you.
“…Majority of it didn’t.” You answer.
“Where did you go?”
You pointed as if you were mapping it out in the air, “Chicago, then Texas, and back here.”
“…Do I need to know how that was?” he’s pressing his elbows into his knees, getting comfortable right beside you.
He’s told you all about his adventures across the globe, mostly unwarranted but you didn’t mind. You had a sheltered life while your aunt and uncle went all over to see the world thanks to their professions, so you didn’t get out much until you decided to head to the first state you had the deepest connection to. Where your late mother and uncle were born and raised and ultimately where your mother’s life ended.
“All you need to know is that it brought me back home, to the rest of you.”
“Can’t say I don’t like the sound of that.”
You loop an arm with Buck’s and rest your head on his shoulder, “look at us sitting here being nice to each other with our matching marks.”
“I’m always nice and I think mine is cooler.” He says referring to his own strawberry birthmark.
You nuzzle your face against his navy sweater, “You stating your claim on yours being better really defeats the purpose of you being nice.”
“Well, I mean no harm buuut yours is temporary and reminds me of hippo skin.” He’s leaning away, eyes lowered to get a good look at your face up close.
“…Now I see why you and Natalia broke up.”
If chimney was back, you were sure he’d give you some points for roasting Buck back.
“Ouch.” Buck laughs, resting his cheek against your head.
You echo his laugh, “sorry.”
“Don’t be. I can take a joke and Isn’t this season supposed to be about new beginnings or growth or whatever?” Buck was always interested to see the layers of you.
You gasp, “I thought it was the season of allergies.”
Evan hums, “Is that the story you’re sticking with?”
Before you could reply to that Eddie cuts in, “the story actually checks out…you did in fact ingest some sea bass from the nerdy but surprising good looking Eitan. The fish was a little on the salty side so I see why you only had a small piece.”
“A small piece that was enough to have their face looking like hippo skin!” Buck held his hand out underneath your chin to showcase.
Eddie scrunched up his face after taking a look at yours while you slapped the dark blond on his chest, “why would you choose to compare their allergic reaction to that of all things?”
“Why would you give your critiques of a dish you probably don’t even know how to cook?” Buck fired back.
Before they started to bicker, Maddie claps her hands to silence the two men-children and then turns to you with a soft smile, “Eitan also wanted to come over here and apologize but I told him it would best to just wait it out for awhile.”
“Thanks Maddie.” You smile back at the brunette, preferring to be around your friends instead.
“That’s the smartest thing he’s done today.” Buck huffs while Maddie sends him a warning look, to basically knock it off.
Eventually Hen and Chim make their way back but only Hen has items in her hands.
Chim holds his hands out as he exasperates, “you would think people who have a house filled with eight bathrooms would have basic medicine in their cabinets…it’s odd that the only thing I could find was Omeprazole. And Not even a damn Advil!”
“Okay let’s not turn this into the ID channel guys, I’m alive and well—
“Well…” almost everyone chorus’ in making you equally send them an incredulous look.
Hen is the one to not have chimed in but chooses to squats in front of you, “Eat this and keep this pressed to your face for at least five to seven minutes.”
“Thank you, Hen.”
“No problem,” she smiles before standing up and looking at the rest, “now go mingle everyone instead of being up in their face, I’m sure they’ll be in good hands with Buck—maybe.”
“Hey!”
Hen winks at him before she walks off with Maddie and Chimney who starts talking about the appetizers he noticed by the patio door.
“Marisol’s calling,” Eddie looks down at his phone, “I trust that I can leave two alone for a few minutes.”
Buck shrugs nonchalantly, “That depends—
“Of course you can.” You side eye the man beside you underneath the ice pack.
Eddie snickers before disappearing behind the sliding doors to a room across from the stairs.
Buck’s breathing beside you makes you more calm until he deeply exhales, clearing his throat while you chew on a pineapple as he turns his body to you.
“So why come back?” His island water eyes holds your stare, lightly pushing since you still had time to get the inflammation to go down.
So what better way to wait it out by talking?
Swallowing the fruit you boldly respond, “you would think I took a year off instead of two weeks but…I’d miss you too much. Is that a good enough answer for you Buckley?”
Evan grins as he bumps his shoulder with yours again, “yeah it is! I just wanted to hear you say it.”
You noticed the change of tone in his voice beside you and fought the urge to shudder at it. So you scoff and push yourself off the steps, plate of pineapple long forgotten as you balanced yourself upright while Buck’s got his hands out to catch you if you fall.
The feeling was always mutual, lifting each other up and going through the motions together as a team.
“Since you’re so full of yourself, let’s battle it out on the dance floor.”
Buck frowns as he glances down at his wrist, “I think you still have another three minutes and thirty-nine seconds left to go…and they’re playing jazz.”
“What’s wrong with that? Would you rather hear The White Stripes or Backstreet Boys…I could make a request if you like?” You teased while Buck pushes himself to his feet.
He blows out a breath, “I tell you one time that Maddie and I had a jam session to that boy band on my sixteenth birthday road-trip to cheer me up and you won’t let it go.”
“I’m not shaming you.” You raise a hand in surrender, “I’m no hater and the band had hits. I don’t care who you are, where you’re from, what you did, as long as you love me—it’s all good.”
Buck rolls his head around, “you’re so clever and you don’t have to worry about that so! Let’s just start off with you finishing the rest of those pineapples and I’ll try one of those appetizers before you show me some moves but I don’t think they have anything on mine.”
“Please! I’ll be very shocked to see you do more than a two-step since you also hate karaoke.”
“I don’t hate it.” Buck picks up the plate for you, “I just prefer not to see my sister and Chimney eat their microphones singing while staring into each others eyes.”
“They’re in love Buck, leave them alone!”
“Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy they found each other. I am their number one fan but that’s still my sister and I don’t need to see more than needed on their love life.” He shudders.
You hook your arm with Buck’s as you begin to walk through the home towards the kitchen, “yeah I guess I get that, yet there’s something so special about seeing people in love! It always shows me why there’s still the urge to keep going, just like us running into fires. Not to just simply put it out but to have a sense of unity when that’s not always common.”
Buck is intently listening and whole heartedly agrees as the both of you settle into the kitchen. He enjoys having conversations with you and you enjoy keeping him company, although he came all this way for you.
Showing up for each other was never foreign but it was times like these, swollen eyed and slightly loopy while the game of politics were being played out in the vineyard, wide grins and random conversations were held inside between the two of you—later joined by the rest of the team—which showed you that you were surrounded by exactly who you needed to be with.
𓇼☾☼𓇼☾☼ 𓇼☾☼𓇼☾☼ 𓇼☾☼𓇼☾☼ 𓇼☾☼𓇼☾☼
Continue with my spring anthology prompts here.
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fumifooms · 3 days
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Do you think hanahaki-AU fits DunMeshi? As one of magical traps/curses of the dungeon, maybe. I only thought of Chilchuck's flowers: hemlock (pun intended. Also small light flowers giving headache), clover/shamrock (so Irish! Also sweet - and Chilchuck dislikes sweets), thistle (so prickly - and Celtic too) - and there my imagination stopped. And thank you for hosting the marchil event, it was great!!!
Oooh! You know what yeah I see the vision! I’m not a hanahaki person myself but yeah… Yeah I could see it. Out of any fandom, for the fantasy manga about funky speculative fauna and flora it could 1)make sense for it to exist in the world and be in line with canon and 2)be very interesting to explore. I imagine it’d be a sort of parasitic plant that grows in you not unlike how tentaclus and cracks in walls… I do feel like they’d have found a way to cure it and get rid of them in the world though, but it could be that people who can treat it are rare especially since it’d be a delicate operation. But a straight up magical curse from the dungeon would also be very interesting.
I really like your picks for chilchuck!!
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I tried to look for flower meanings and you undersold hemlocks their poison are straight up terrifying. Hemlock also reminds me of the word wedlock, if that adds anything… Because of their poison they’re associated with pain and self-sacrifice, had trouble finding anything that didn’t start and end at "they’re bad news" lmaoo. Clovers are more of a no-brainer with meanings like hope, faith, love and luck. I associate them with youth as well but looking it up that’s just a me thing… Luck could be fun in an ironic way considering his life conditions, but also fun for the lucky very precise shots he makes like when he threw the knife at the dragon or with his bow, though he would hate having it be attributed to luck instead of his own hard-earned skills haha. And omg the Thistle…….. I’m obsessed with that actually. Sensory horror wise it’d be really interesting to read how it’s like coughing it up, ESPECIALLY with the sweet taste accompanying it oh my god. If we’re going with a marchil angle, the fact that she’s a sweet person… He dislikes sweets and he hates that he loves her. It reminds him of her and he hates it, the thistle in his throat is also her, his love for her is a thorn in his side, he loves her and it hurts him and he hates it all. It’s so Chilchuck to just suffer in silence and do jackshit about an unrequited love except beating himself up for it, sigh…
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I’m sorry Thistle thistles are a Chilchuck thing to me now <3 You know I always underestimated how wild thistles look… It really does look like the flower is in a green jester costume with a funky little collar. Kui you visionary Thistles are also small and round and cute… What the prickles? No no that’s just little hair ahoges <3
I don’t have any particular ideas for everyone else… Forget-me-nots are a very Marcille pick with devotion, true love and remembrance… I also associate Marcille a bit with buttercups. Also Queen Anne’s Lace, which besides beauty symbolizes sanctuary, safety and refuge… Their seeds are edible and kind of taste like thyme btw, hah, time. They’re all softer kinds of flower, no poison or thorns afaik, and I think it suits her. Unrequited love with her wouldn’t be something as acid, it’d be a more poetic sort of ache, doomed longing that feels like a bruise rather than salt in an open wound.
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llamaqueenprompt · 1 day
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chapter two
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word count: 1.1k
Before
“Well, all my dating history is online, so I think it is only fair I get to know a little bit about yours.” Charles licked his ice cream ignoring Rory’s shocked expression.
“What do you mean you should know mine?” 
“Well,” He licked a little bit of her ice cream that was starting to fall. “I want to know about the first people that got your eye.”
“What if there was no one?” He looked sideways at her with a little smirk present on his lips. “Okay, there were two.”
“How was the first one?” He sat on a bench and pulled her to sit next to him pulling her legs on top of his.
“His name was David,” A little smile grew on her face, “we met when we were like 14 and we started dating a couple of weeks after that. You know when you are getting your very first taste of love and it’s all fresh and wonderful?” Charles nodded putting his arm around her shoulders, “That’s how it felt with David throughout the whole relationship. We were two kids that were experiencing love for the first time and we were loving it.”
“How did it end?” She laid her head on his shoulder.
“We were finishing high school and had different ambitions for life, he wanted to travel the world and I wanted to go to college.”
“Never thought of doing long distance?”
“We did at first, but then we realized that it wouldn’t work for us. We spent almost our whole time together and going from that to only seeing each other in person a couple days at a time, it wasn’t for us.” Charles nodded when she looked at him, “We broke up the night of our senior prom, on the way we decided that it was it and the rest is history.”
“Uhh, breaking up with a girl on the night of her senior prom? Never a good sign.” She laughed and he pulled her to him and kissed her forehead, “And the second boyfriend? Was he as lovable as David?”
Rory sighed, diving deeper into Charles' chest. “No, my relationship with Alejandro wasn’t anything like my relationship with David. Me and Alejandro met in college, he was two years ahead of me, so we didn’t have any classes together. At the beginning it was all fun and sweet but as time progressed he started showing a more controlling and possessive nature. At first I let it slide as him caring about me but as time progressed I realized it wasn’t that and that he was trying to make sure that he was the center of my life and that I had no one else, so I broke up with him. The main issue with the break up was that my parents, they loved him, said that he was perfect and that he and I would have beautiful babies and even after the break up they still haven’t forgotten about him.”
This time Charles didn’t interrupt her and just let her ramble. When she was done he pulled her even more to him, putting a finger under her chin and turning her face to him.
“If it depends on me Rory, you will never suffer for love again.”
Now
“What are you doing here?” Alejandro immediately hugged Aurora who just stood there without moving an inch, “I didn’t think I would see you anytime soon, what a great surprise. I really missed you…” As Alejandro kept on hugging her and talking, Rory’s eyes started to look around the room to see if she could spot Charles.
Charles, who was still looking at Rory and completely ignoring Carlos, the moment he saw the desperation in her eyes ran to her and pulled her out of the man’s arms protectively wrapping an arm around her waist.
“Honey, how’s this?” Charles looked between the two while Rory grabbed his hand that was around her waist.
“I’m Alejandro, I’m actually going to be working with Ferrari…”
After he said his name Charles heard nothing more that came out of his mouth and turned to Rory turning his back to Alejandro. “Are you okay?” Rory shaked her head. “Do you want to get out of here?” She nodded, still gripping his hand.
Charles gave her forehead a quick kiss not caring to who was watching and started directing them to a room in the back that he knew would be clear now. He ignored anyone that tried to talk to him, only paying attention to keeping Rory close to him and making their way away from Alejandro.
As they got into the room Charles quickly locked the door behind them while Rory sat on the couch quickly followed by Charles who put an arm around her.
“I don’t know why seeing affected me so much,” Aurora ran her fingers through her hair.
“Maybe because you weren’t expecting to see him?”
“Maybe,” Rory leaned back, sitting on the couch shoulder to shoulder with Charles, “I think he said he wanted to talk to me.”
“You think?”
“I kind of zoned out when he was talking.”
“And do you want to talk to him?” 
“I think so,” she looked at Charles, “I’m going to have to work with him eventually so might as well talk with him now.”
Charles nodded understandingly, though he couldn’t help the pang of jealousy that tugged at his heartstrings. “Okay, I’ll stay with you if you’ll have me,” he assured her, squeezing her hand gently.
Rory offered him a grateful smile, feeling comforted by his presence. “Thank you, Charles. I appreciate it.”
Together, they sat in the quiet room, the air thick with unspoken tension. Rory’s brain was a mess with all the emotions that were going through her. Alejandro’s unexpected appearance had caught her off guard, bringing up memories that she thought were long gone.
Meanwhile, Charles struggled to contain his own feelings, torn between his desire to protect Rory and the decision they made in Andorra and the thin line between their friendship and his feelings for her.
After a moment of silence, Rory spoke up, her voice hesitant. "Do you think I should talk to him?"
"It's ultimately up to you, Rory," he replied gently. "If you feel ready to face him and clear the air, then I'll support you. But if you're not ready, that's okay too. Your well-being comes first."
Rory nodded, taking comfort in his words. "Thank you, Charles. I think I need some time to gather my thoughts before I decide."
"Take all the time you need," Charles reassured her, giving her hand another reassuring squeeze. "I'll be right here."
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justcallmefox89 · 2 days
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Gnome Troubles Part V (Astarion's POV)
Gale gives Astarion something to think about.
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There’s something wrong with the gnome.  Astarion has suspected it since that night Wicket offered him blood, and after a tenday of traveling together he’s near certain of it.  Wicket barely sleeps, and when he does he wakes screaming.  The others pretend to not notice the wretched, soul-clenching cries and ignore the hoarseness of his voice in the mornings.  Astarion’s flesh crawls when the screams begin, reminding him of the year he spent entombed at Cazador’s orders.  He cannot imagine what terrors come to torment Wicket in his dreams, and at such moments he feels the barest flash of sympathy for the gnome. 
Wicket’s nighttime habits aren’t the only thing that trouble the vampire.  Astarion isn’t one to begrudge a person their love for fine wines, but Wicket indulges in drink far too often, as if he’s searching for oblivion.  And at times he clutches at his chest as if he’s in great pain.  Astarion would almost swear he’s seen the faintest glow beneath Wicket’s camp shirt, as if there’s something illuminating him from the inside.
Maybe all cleric are just indescribably odd.
Shadowheart is no less strange than the gnome, also choosing to remain aloof and enigmatic, only revealing bits of her past when she’s forced too.  Astarion shakes his head.
No… there is something very, very wrong with Wicket.
Attempting to push the troubling thoughts away, the elf closes his eyes and tilts his face up, allowing the rays from the early morning sun to warm his face.  The rustling of cloth announces another’s presence, and from the creaking of their joints as they sit down next to him Astarion is able to tell that it’s Gale. 
“You seem introspective this morning,” he murmurs, settling his robes about him.
“Just thinking, darling,” Astarion murmurs without opening his eyes.  “Considering all that’s happened to our little group recently.”
“Is there something in particular on your mind?  Or someone, to be more precise?”
The vampire cracks open one eyes and glances over at Gale.  “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean, my dear.”
Gale shrugs nonchalantly.  “It’s hard not to notice how considerate a certain cleric has been towards your particular needs.”
Astarion remains obstinately silent.  Undeniably… in his own coarse, obnoxiously high-handed way, Wicket has taken rather decent care of him.  Making sure he’s fed adequately each day, tending to his wounds with efficient, thorough care while implicitly making sure his hands don’t linger longer than strictly necessary… Astarion can grudgingly admit that Wicket has treated him with more care than he probably deserves, considering his attitude towards the other man.  But for purely practical reasons, he’s sure.  It wouldn’t do to think any differently.
“If this is your poor attempt to convince me that Wicket’s actions are merely altruistic, I will have to insist otherwise,” Astarion protests irritably.
“Kelemvor’s necrobanes are notoriously devoted to their oath,” Gale muses, stroking his beard thoughtfully.  “To have one not only deny his holy mission, but aid in the survival of the very thing he’s sworn to destroy… it makes one wonder what could cause him to defy his god.”
“Given our rather unique circumstances I am of more use to him alive than dead.  That is all.”
Gale arches one eyebrow skeptically.
 “I’ve lived long enough to know that altruism is a farce,” Astarion replies sharply.  “Whatever Wicket has done for me he will expect repayment, I’m sure.  They always do.”
“I think you may be doing him a disservice,” the wizard murmurs. 
Astarion mimics Gale’s earlier shrug, feigning disinterest in his companion’s opinion.  But some infinitesimally small part of him, a bit of him so heavily guarded and locked away he’d nearly forgotten about it, dares to hope that Gale is right.
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Amnesia!Dabi
Just some random thoughts, mostly, feel free to take or leave
So, like, when I first thought about this, it’s like … Dabi doesn’t necessarily have ongoing memory problems. You’d think he might, but no, his memory retention is okay. He doesn’t have any problems FORMING new memories, he just can’t remember much from before he wakes up in the clinic. Or the things he DOES remember, don’t have context. Like, he loves soba (I Headcannon the whole Todoroki clan does) but he doesn’t remember when he first had it. He has a lot of survival skills, but doesn’t know where he would have picked them up. Little bits and pieces of a puzzle, but no clue where they fit.
Now, certain things trigger feelings or sensations that can help spark memories, but it isn’t consistent. Like, you’d think fire itself would be a trigger, but no, that doesn’t do anything. Dying his hair red, however briefly, does make him mad, but he doesn’t know why. The first time he tries to make soba himself, he gets a very clear memory of a voice telling him not to over cook the noodles, but can’t recall the person the voice is attached to. The best way I can describe it is a dam, a massive block on his memory, and a strong enough trigger can briefly punch a hole through it, but the dam will kind patch itself, so unless Dabi really pokes at it, he isn’t getting anywhere fast.
Part of the reason Dabi would latch onto Toga would, in fact, be that she sets off a bunch of different feelings that kick that dam HARD. She’s vulnerable, like Shouto, she’s often ignored, like Natsuo, and (fudging this a bit) she has just enough physical similarities to Fuyumi that, altogether, it sparks something for Dabi. He doesn’t know WHAT, but she’s triggering all his Brother Instincts. Now, Himiko is her own person, so while those similarities START rattling the barrier, they can’t do more than that, no matter how much Dabi comes to care for her in her own right. But they do make it so, when Dabi gets a good look at Shouto during Katsuki’s escape (When Dabi decides, “actually, not cool with kidnapping, I’m taking the two traumatized blondes and LEAVING”) the dam in his head gets a cannon ball through it that doesn’t patch up.
The memories aren’t exactly coherent, or you know, linear, but Dabi gets at least one good, clear memory of Shouto as a young kid, a toddler, and that is probably the first clear memory he’s ever gotten. So, instead of just taking Himiko and fleeing the country altogether (which may or may not have been a half-baked plan he was maybe-sorta thinking about) Dabi decides to risk it and approach U.A.. To reiterate UA, not the Todoroki residence itself, for two reasons.
first, and probably obvious, Shouto is the only Todoroki he’s really seen in person at this point. He doesn’t know any of the others, Shouto is the one he’s reacting to, and he knows the kid goes to U.A.. Plus, he doesn’t imagine approaching the civilian residence of the number 2 hero would go over well with anyone. Dabi’s pretty sure that’s a good way to instantly end up in prison. The second reason is Himiko herself. I like to imagine that, while it’s probably better than being homeless, Himiko is still not doing to great. Yeah, the League was actually trying to help her (for their value of help) but Himiko was coming off several months of being homeless, predated by TWEVLE FUCKING YEARS OF STARVATION. She’s a hot mess of malnutrition, dietary deficiency, and Dabi knows she needs a hospital sooner rather than later. And, well, U.A. has several students that could be considered “villains”, they have a teacher with a Quirk that’s similar to Himiko’s, so Dabi’s hoping they’ll be a bit more sympathetic to Himiko’s situation, and actually help her out, not immediately lock her up. (He’s correct)
*On a slightly more comedic note*
to expand on Dabi waking up in the clinic, he wakes up to a nurse trying to check his vitals or something. Nurse is spooked, and asks “Dabi” how he is (seriously, calls him Dabi-san, cause that’s what’s on his chart). Dabi, confused, is like, “who are you? Who am I??” and the nurse figures he’s just coming off the anaesthesia, so puts a bit more in his IV to knock him out again. Goes to tell the main doc what happened, and the man figures this is a good sign, clearly Touya’s more robust than they thought! They’ll keep him sedated so he can rest a bit more, be in better shape, then call in AfO.
Only Dabi doesn’t give them the chance. His metabolism is apparently through the roof, so only a hour or two later, he wakes up. Now, this is Dabi’s experience. He briefly woke up in a place he doesn’t recognize. He doesn’t where he is, who these people are, or even who he himself is. When he tried talking to the nurse, they knocked him out. Waking up AGAIN and getting a closer look, this place doesn’t look REMOTELY like a professional hospital. He’s pretty sure it,s a renovated concrete basement. Yeah, Dabi ain’t sticking around. He gets up, takes his IV out, strolls out in his stupid hospital clothes, fully expecting a fight … and NO ONE STOPS HIM. Middle of the fucking night, Dabi just casually walks out the front door. Was there an emergency? Is this place just poorly staffed? Dabi does not know or care, he is OUT, thank you. 
it takes almost a full fifteen hours before anyone realizes he’s gone.
-
Oh yeah absolutely!
The people and the actual experience is gone, but the memory of it is still somewhere in there and can be brought forth.
muscle memory is going to be the biggest trigger at first. This can apply to some reflexes. Even before he realizes that his Quirk hurts him, he’s naturally trying to keep the fire away from his body, only bringing it close when he thinks to. It’s the other things that were mentioned before, flinching when people get angry and expecting them to get physical, or feeling happy when eating what used to be a favorite meal that he’d eat as comfort. His body is used to these things even if his mind no longer is.
I think the Himiko-Fuyumi trigger should be less that she’s physically similar to Fuyumi(because honestly I can fudge it some but....). It should be because she’s a young /girl/ and a touch childish. Sure, it’s been years since he heard the phrase “hey big brother help braid my hair!” but some part of him remembers it and remembers brushing someone’s hair and he remembers exactly how to braid and for just a moment as he’s sitting with Himiko blonde hair flashes to white and red.
also that ‘escape’ is fucking hilarious
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fma03envy · 2 years
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The idea that Mettaton knows about the amalgamates and that's why he and Alphys aren't friends anymore drives me insane and it's an interpretation no one can change my mind about
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inmaki · 3 months
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number one sorcerer (and virgin) .
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synopsis: req! in which your boyfriend — notorious for boasting about how good he is in bed — turns out to be all bark and no bite (until you give him some guidance, at least).
pairing: virgin!switch!gojo x f!reader
wc: est. 6k?
incl: unprotected sex, pull-out method, lots of dirty talk, a bit of teaching gojo, petnames, manhandling, size kink, clit play, praise kink, edging (himself), teasing, mocking, fingering, oral (f + slight m), cum swallowing
a/n: ty for awakening smtn in me anon it was nice to be writing a full fic again!! hope im not too rusty,, this is straight up filth tho so mdni
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back when satoru and you were just friends, he liked to make it very clear to your circle of peers that he wasn’t just good at sex.
no, according to himself, he was some kind of sex god — to match his power level in sorcery, of course.
and obviously, who was anyone to think otherwise? the great gojo satoru; such a cocky and confident demeanour paired with angelic white hair, piercing blue eyes, and a tall sculpted body that other guys at the gym double-take at. him..? a virgin? hah! good one.
satoru believes that he’s done a rather spectacular job at keeping his reputation sky-high.
the only problem was.. now he had a girlfriend with high expectations to please.
since the day you’d gotten together — going multiple months strong — satoru was starting to sweat more and more knowing that his rather crucial fabrication was bound to be brought up sooner or later. you had your needs just like him, and satoru wouldn’t blame you if you were a bit worried about why he hasn’t initiated anything; y’know, since he was supposedly eros in human form and all that.
little did you know your boyfriend felt equally frustrated. for slightly different reasons.
“bro, it’d be hot if she was a virgin, but me?!” flopping back against the armrest, gojo lets out a theatrical groan while his best friend — the only other person to know of his dark secret — snickers against the cushions nearby.
“everything’d be fine if you didn’t pretend to be some incubus that makes girls cum with a snap of his finger,” geto quips unhelpfully.
satoru lifts his head, sneering when he realizes that the raven-haired man was much too busy scrolling on his phone to notice how he’s resting a pair of dirty shoes on his white couch. “that would be pretty cool..” when he only receives a disgusted glance, he huffs, suddenly feeling a bit vulnerable as his thoughts wander further. “how’m i even gonna tell her? what if she doesn’t trust me anymore?”
at last, suguru looks up with a hint of sympathy in his eyes. “you know y/n isn’t like that. just.. wait for her to initiate something and go with the flow,” he advises, lips curling into a knowing smirk.
“you find a way to be good at everything, anyway, toru. she’ll be begging for you in no time.”
as usual, geto knows him too well, because those last few words have gojo shooting up from the sofa with a grin. “ya think so?”
“hell yeah, man.” the two idiots end the discussion by dapping each other up, a confident gleam in both of their eyes.
only a couple days later, satoru discovers that going with the flow isn’t as easy as suguru advised. with your plush lips sucking his bottom one through occasional moans, along with a delicate pair of nails scratching perfectly at his undercut, he already felt himself getting breathless and aroused like a teenager.
perhaps you’ve put him under a spell; how is it that he lasts through prolonged battles while barely breaking a sweat, but having your cute hand move to rub up on his abs and pecs send his nerves into overdrive? it wasn’t like making out wasn’t uncommon for the two of you, this time it just felt so passionate with the way your hips moved to straddle his, tongue practically begging for entrance while the movie on screen was left long forgotten.
gojo can’t help but groan as your muscle explores his mouth, core ever so smoothly grinding on his bulge and igniting heat through his entire body. even as you pull away to take a breath, his grip on your waist remains stable as if you’d disappear at any moment— growing even tighter with the way you bore into his eyes hungrily. “satoru..”
your unusually seductive voice makes him audibly gulp. “y— yeah?” he whispers, glancing to the hand thats now moving down over his grey sweats. shit, this was too much, was he dreaming? he should do something, pinch himself before—
“touch me, please?” as you voice your request, you squeeze his dick so nicely that satoru swears he nearly explodes in his boxers.
he swallows, words getting lost in his throat. “i— i uh...”
for the first time in history, satoru has been rendered speechless, and you visibly panic at this realization. yet when you try to carefully maneuver off his lap and give him space, the clutch on your waist intensifies. “what— are you okay? what’s wrong?” you murmur, brows creasing with concern.
though you never brought it up, satoru’s worry about your confusion was correct; you’d been expecting him to jump your bones a week into your relationship, but seeing how he never forced anything and remained respectful was cute.. at first. after a month of rejection and being pushed away whenever things got too heated, insecurities were bound to start brewing inside you.
he better have a damn good explanation.
“i’m fine,” he reassures, “it’s just— i should probably tell you something..” refusing to meet your eyes, the sorcerer resorts to drawing shapes against the skin under your t-shirt. in other situations, this would feel soothing, relaxing even — but currently, his lacking and lingering touch made you want to rip the hairs off your head.
all you wanted was to finally get a taste of your steaming hot boyfriend. what could he possibly need to say right now? you ponder, hasn’t he been dying to finally show off how amazing he is in bed?
“yes..?”
“it’s actually a funny story, ahaha..” he stalls, chuckling nervously as you turn his jaw to make eye contact. a feeling of impatience and neediness pulls through you, but you contain yourself with a deep breath.
“spit it out, satoru.”
there was no going back now, right? “so.. i’ve uh— i’ve never actually done this before.”
you blink.
“you’re a virgin?”
it was difficult to believe your own words; it sounded wrong no matter how hard you tried to wrap your head around it. satoru being inexperienced? the satoru with a rock hard 6 pack? the satoru with biceps that bulge out of his shirts and a face sharp enough to be sculpted by aphrodite herself? your satoru?
it sounded ridiculous, but the ugly pout rising across his lips tells you that it wasn’t a prank after all. “hey, don’t call me that, now it sounds way worse!”
a sigh escapes your lips, arms folded across your chest. “so all those never have i ever games and stories you told about one night stands were— mph!" before you know it, a large hand is covering your mouth.
“listen, how about we talk about this after having some fun?” a surprisingly determined gleam shines in your boyfriend’s icy blue eyes, making your thighs clench together in excitement.
who were you to say no to that?
next thing you know, pillows support your back as a shirtless satoru lies directly in front of your clothed crotch, hot breath making you wiggle around impatiently.
“jus— just take it off me, toru. so damn slow—“
“baby,” he scolds, looking genuinely upset, “this is my first time seeing a pussy in real life and you’re ruining it with your lack of patience.”
you can only roll your eyes and groan, head flopping back against the cushions in boredom. there was no way to predict how satoru’s first time would go, but you never expected it’d be this agonizing on your end — nor that he’d be so bossy.
though luckily, after another deep breath, your panties are gently tugged down your legs, and satoru can only inhale as he watches your poor hole clench around nothing. it only made sense that after all that dry humping and making out that your neediness increased, and it didn’t help that you could clearly see the way satoru was not only rock hard, but much bigger than average through his grey sweats.
“ooh.. oh shit..” like the invasive pervert he is, satoru moves even closer to the point where your thighs rest on his muscular shoulders before taking two fingers to spread your lips apart. this way, he has a clear view of the place that needs him most, and it makes a furious blush blossom on your cheeks.
“s— satoru.. what are you doing?” now you felt like the virgin, desperately attempting to shut your legs with no avail. damn this big idiot and his strength.
suddenly, his piercing eyes snap up to you, a feral look in his gaze. “shit, how’m i gonna fit in this little hole?”
you can’t deny the way his dirty words does something to you — not that you’d ever admit it. “that’s why you gotta prep me, toru. y’know..” you gulp, “fingering, or like.. eating me out.”
in response, you get a cheshire grin. “sounds fun. show me how you do it, sweets.”
“w-what?”
satoru leans back, attemping to hold in a mischievous smile. “how else am i gonna learn?”
even masturbating alone makes you flush in slight embarassment, so doing it in front of someone else — your cheeky, shamleess boyfriend no less — had you drowning in nerves. the bigger problem was that his words held a strong point; you’re supposed to be teaching him for his first time and ensuring it’s as enjoyable as possible.
these reminders make you mumble out a gentle fine, breath stuttering as you spread your legs further for the man in front of you.
satoru is now resting his weight on the palms of his hands, looking laid back and relaxed, but evidently still focused at the way your fingers move to unclasp your bra with skill. “damn..” as your tits are freed, he finds himself needing to adjust his sweatpants and nearly letting out a pathetic noise you would definitely tease him for.
you gulp, trying to ignore his blatant gawking. “it’s good to.. y’know, tease a bit before getting straight to it. makes it feel better — for me, at least,” you explain while massaging your chest, hiding surprise at the way he sternly nods in understanding.
now that you think about it, something tells you this is the most focused satoru has ever been in a learning environment.
after a bit more pinching and fondling, your hands slide down to your stomach and thighs, trying to get your breathing to relax. having gojo watch you do something so private was.. surreal, but you know for a fact you’ve never been this wet before, if that meant anything.
once you finally move down to your most intimate part, satoru takes a deep breath. he watches as you use your fingers to reveal a small bundle of nerves, pulsing and desperate for attention. “this is the clit, toru. s’very important.”
his eyes light up. “oh, i know that one!” he announces proudly, “i remember suguru saying i have to.. uh, worship it or something.”
you snicker at the thought of geto giving out sex pointers. “mhm, sometimes penetration isn’t enough, so you need to give it attention or i can’t really finish.”
gently, you start massaging the bud in circles, humming at the feeling of finally getting some type of relief. you move down to your hole to collect some of your wetness before bringing it back up, letting out a moan in satisfaction.
the way satoru licks his lips as you finally plunge a finger into your wetness has you shivering, but you remind yourself that for now, this was simply a demonstration and that you’d get a taste of him later.
after adding another, you attempt to reach your sweet spot by curling upwards, but it seems that even your hopelessly inexperienced boyfriend could tell that it was getting nowhere.
“aw,” he pouts teasingly, “lil’ fingers can’t reach anything, huh?”
“shut— shut up, satoru.”
before you know it, he’s moved onto his stomach again, face to face with your pussy and gripping your now soaked fingers. “you use these pathetic things when y’masturbate, huh? imagining my dick while having such tiny fingers up your cunt? kinda offended, babe..”
you feel your tummy flip, where did he learn to talk like that?
“do you have to be so vulg—“ you’re cut off by a choking gasp as a warm, wet muscle licks a stripe from your hole all the way to your clit.
“thanks for the lesson. ‘think i got it from here,” is all satoru says before he’s diving in, slurping up as much of your essence as possible before latching his plush lips right onto your poor little clit.
you can’t help but wiggle around at the jump in stimulation, but that only lasts about five seconds before a muscular arm presses you firmly against the mattress, rendering you trapped and unable to escape to his ministrations.
“hey, slow down!” your words are coincidentally yelped out right as he wiggles a much bigger finger into you. it explores your insides eagerly, caressing and feeling up what satoru believes will be his new favourite place.
“wow..” sluuurp, “so warm n’ soft in here..” he happily mumbles against your pussy. the vibrations of his now deeper voice shoot through you like electricity, eliciting another choked whine from your throat.
it felt like he was just toying with you; looking way too content drinking up everything you offered, fluid rushing down his chin and nose pushed firmly against your pelvis to inhale your scent.
suddenly, he’s jabbing his fingertip right into that pocket of sunshine that makes your eyes roll back, a loud whimper leaving your throat before you could stop it. “satoru, right there!” he swiftly seperates from your clit just to mumble out a here? in confirmation, prodding your sweet spot over and over in record breaking speed.
when you nod, he grins smugly, now adding another finger to stretch you further. “mmmph, this is pretty fun. could lie here all night.”
luckily, you barely process his words, much too busy enjoying the best finger-fuck of your life — and this was only his first time, you remember, what will the bastard do to you once he’s got some practice in?
a shaking hand tumbles into his snowy locks, attempting to pull him back weakly. “wait, m’gonna cum, toru—“
gojo growls almost animalistically, tugging your hand back onto the sheets. “then fuckin’ do it,” he demands. “c’mon, i’ve earned it, right?” then, he sucks even harder, fingers slamming and curling and making the loudest squelch you’ve ever heard.
“see?” he continues, “lil’ cunt wants to cum so bad for me. knows who 'er owner is already.” his filthy words definitely take part in the way your orgasm hits like a train, body shaking and toes curling as you let the feeling of bliss take over you. you flinch at how swiftly his tongue licks up everything you give him, the fingers in his hair tugging harder in overstimulation.
“toruuuuu..”
he simpers, tasting his cum-covered lips. “yeeees?”
“this— this is your first time, i should be making you feel good.”
slowly but surely, your eyes reopen, meeting your boyfriend’s relaxed gaze as he rubs your thigh affectionately. “dunno what you’re talking about, i felt pretty good just now.” when you only pout further, he snickers, pushing some of his bangs back smoothly. “c’mon, there’s lots of time for you to get me off later. m’ too excited for the main event..”
at last, he reaches for his sweatpants, more than excited to tug them down and finally give his aching cock some freedom. satoru doesn’t think he’s ever had a more painful boner in his life, but it was all worth seeing you release all over his tongue and fingers.
right as he finishes untying the knot, pale fingers drifting up to the waistband, you’re smacking him away to make room for your own hands. he watches with an open mouth as you pull his boxers down along with his pants, leaky, hard cock springing free and nearly hitting you in the face.
shit, of course his dick is perfect too. with a bit of white hair at the base, bulging veins adorned the entirety of his massive length, and the tip — shit, the tip was even bigger than the rest, mushroom shaped and angry red. his balls looked equally agitated and full — the epitome of breeder balls, and you gulped at the thought of him filling you up with everything they had.
now his question from earlier made sense, and he seems to be enjoying the realization on your face from his spot kneeling on the bed. “like what’cha see?” he coos, one big hand lowering to relieve the aching in his balls.
“toru, i don’t know if you’ll even fit. why— why do you have to be so big?” it’s annoying, you want to say — but the white-haired man has already laid back and manhandled you onto his chiseled stomach, a yelp escaping you at his suddenness.
he’s smiling so hard at your little dilemma that it’s almost sick, hands resting behind his head cockily. “tell me more while you ride me, baby.”
after processing that all you’ve been doing is feeding his size kink and inflating his already massive ego, you frown. “i’m serious, toru!”
“what!? i’m serious too!” the man defends with fake innocence, blue eyes shining in glee. “you’re the expert here, remember? ‘supposed to be teaching me how it’s done.”
all you do is grumble whilst moving down to sit between the sorcerer’s thighs, lightly prepping him with your fist and a dribble of spit from your mouth that has the white-haired male biting his lip. “fuck..” satoru can’t recall how many times he’s masturbated to the mental image of this exact moment, but now that it was finally happening, he promised himself to savor it as much as possible.
when you move to finally straddle him, hole hovering just above his length, he begins bucking his hips up desperately. “hurryyy…”
“are you in heat or something?” you snort, giving him a dirty glare as if you weren’t about to let him inside you.
“for you? yeah.” satoru offers you a cheesy wink and grin that dissipates the second your warmth encloses his aching tip. his hands slowly move up to grip your waist, jaw clenching in an attempt to not slam you down to his balls right then.
“ngh… fuuuck, baby,” he groans as you ever so carefully move down another inch. “jesus.. you’re sooo damn tight. dunno’ how you’re even taking me..”
you squeeze your eyes shut in attempt to bare the discomfort for him, a slight crease growing between your brows. “satoru, fuck— hurts..” he immediately reopens his eyes in worry, searching for a way to take your pain away.
yes, he could already tell that he enjoyed being meaner with you in bed — but it’s never fun if you don’t feel good as well. though he luckily recalls your lesson from earlier, moving a soft thumb down to massage your clit in tight circles.
when you jolt and nearly faceplant into his neck, he only grins proudly, now using one veiny hand to help push you further onto him. “theeere we go.. aw, feel better?”
“mhm, feels full..” you mumble back, looking down to see that you — unbelievably — still had a couple inches to go.
satoru feels like he’s about to burst on the other hand, thriving in pure ecstasy at the feeling of your walls massaging him just perfectly. he can’t help but thrust up and force his last inches inside you, an echoing smack! of skin against skin singing through the room and eliciting a startled yelp from your throat.
“toru!” despite your scolding, you can’t deny the perfection in which his tip kissed your g-spot effortlessly. his hands felt ever so soothing, comfortingly running up and down as you sat impaled on his cock, wiggling around to get comfortable and ruining him in the process.
just as you start to adjust, you feel yourself being lifted up. “m’ sorry sweets..” gojo suddenly voices, “i can’t..”
“huh? what do you m—ah!” you’re flipped onto your back before you know it, knees resting on the shoulders of your boyfriend who has a gleam in his pupils that you’ve quite frankly never seen before; he looked feral.
satoru carefully pulls out until only his tip is encased in your warmth, and everything is calm for a moment. you both take a deep breath, and he smiles down at your already fucked-out face with pride. “satoru—“
then he’s pushing back in with all the strength his massive hips can produce, and you think if it weren’t for his hands wrapped around your thighs, you would’ve got pushed off the bed entirely. you unintentionally let out the loudest sound of the night, and this sets him off.
now he was getting brutal, bullying your cunt with hit after hit against the spot that has drool dripping down your cheek and eyes crossing. you can’t even stop the pathetic noises and symphonies of right there! that leave your lips, no matter how hot your cheeks flush in embarrassment. it felt as though every time his dick jabbed back in he was right up in your tummy, veins pulsing and ensuring your pussy is molded to the perfect sleeve for him.
“toru, shit— nghh, faster, please! feels s’good!”
“nghh, toru, faster! ahaha..” he mocks you — of course he does, but picks up the pace nonetheless — now holding your lower body up so that your knees dangle higher over his shoulders and each stroke is angled exactly where you want him. “so cute when you’re gettin’ stuffed full, baby.”
he leers as you send him the harshest expression you can manage, reaching down for your clit and giggling as you start squirming in an attempt to escape the overwhelming pleasure. this bastard is having way too much fun, you realize, moans being forced out of you almost tauntingly.
tonight you discover that satoru’s way of fucking is rather animalistic, frantic, thrilling, and with the sole purpose of making you both feel as good as possible. if you want him to go slow or make love to you, you’d probably have to ask beforehand — or perhaps tie him up so you could have your fun in peace.
if your insides weren’t being rearranged, you’d grin at the thought of your boyfriend restrained and at your mercy. another night, you promise yourself.
“tightest pussy ever f’my first time baby.. haah.. can’t believe i’ve been missin’ out on this.” for once, something praising comes out of his big mouth, breathes getting cut short every time you involuntarily squeeze him harder. he swears there’s no better feeling then what you were giving him right now, not even singlehandedly resurrecting himself using the reversed curse technique.
and while no injuries have ever left a scar on gojo satoru, he decides that the claw marks you’re ruthlessly digging into his back will stay as long as his body allows — why should he hide how good he’s made you feel despite being a virgin an hour prior?
maybe if he’s in the mood to brag, he’ll show them to suguru later.
“feels good toru, fuckin’ me so good,” you feel the way his whole body reacts to your praises, a deep growl melting from his lips as the sounds of skin slapping increasingly grows in volume.
“babyyy,” he pants, legs being held higher while he digs deeper into your guts, “m’gonna cum.. need you to cum with me.�� the twitching of his length inside you gave away the fact that gojo has practically been on the edge ever since he pushed into you — and while he knows it’s completely normal to cum prematurely on your first time, when has he ever not gone above expectations?
in a split second you’re flipped onto your hands and knees, veiny hands pushing you into a deep arch while your boyfriend gives his body a moment to relax, pinching his base (a rather perverted method he’s learned by edging himself while masturbating) between his thumb and pointer.
when you needily wiggle your hips in an attempt to find his cock again, he grins boyishly. “lookin’ for this?” he sings the words right before plunging his entire length back into you, abusing your g-spot while a lanky finger impressively finds the bud between your legs right away (a skill that most ‘experienced’ men you’ve previously been with fail to achieve), circling and pinching in a frantic attempt to make your orgasms arrive in sync.
“fucking hell.." you whine, the new angle making his tip bump against spots that have never been rubbed before. “can feel you so deep..”
“oh yeah?” his bicep pulls you up so your head rests on his broad shoulder, now victim to the filth being whispered directly into your ear. “m’ i doing good? fuckin’ this lil’ pussy nice and deep like she needs?”
when you nod, he beams like a maniac, seemingly encouraged to pound you even harder as his hips pick up the pace. “damn, ‘think i’m already a pro at this, huh?”
for the sake of your sanity, you ignore his bragging. “toru, don’t stop. i’m— i’m gonna..”
“you’re gonnaaa?” he derides, kissing the corner of your lip sweetly. “tell me, baby.”
“gonna cum for you, please.” satoru almost decides to fill you up at those words, but his self control is just a bit stronger. he feels the way your cunt is pulsing, body practically shaking as you get closer and closer to release, and he’s determined to help you reach it.
his thrusts get a bit sloppier, and you’re too busy basking in your own pleasure to see the eye-candy that is gojo biting his swollen lips, sweat dripping down his temples all the way to his solid abs, snowy bangs a tad bit moist against his forehead. he looked like the definition of temptation; straight out of a wet dream with stamina that seemingly never declined.
“me too, baby. c’mon, cum on this dick. s’all yours to ruin.”
you moan as you allow yourself to let go, toes curling and nails digging into his toned forearms ecstatically. “thaaat’s it, good girl.. ahah.. such a good girl f’me.” he talks you through it as if he’s done so a million times, both of you looking down to watch your release coat his dick and the crumpled sheets below.
at his praise, you squeeze him just a bit tighter, making his lips curl up in interest. “my girl likes being praised, huh? yeah.. doing so good makin’ a mess on me..”
he pulls out, carefully lowering you to the mattress before tugging on his dick in hopes of reaching his own peak. satoru forces himself to open his eyes just enough to admire the view of you fucked out below him, body shaking slightly as you recover from the intense waves of your orgasm.
“y/n,” he abruptly whines, patting your shoulder with a subtle urgency in his voice.
“..mhmm?”
“where can i cum? quick baby— please, i’ve been holding this for way too long—“ this has your body moving, eyes popping open as you swiftly bend down so your mouth hovers directly in front of him.
you replace his fist with yours as soft lips move to suckle harsly on his leaking tip, and now it’s gojo who has his eyes rolling back; whimpers flying out of his throat every time your tongue massages the delicate underside, sending visible shocks through his body. “fuck!” he can only curse and run his fingers through your hair for support while you pump him dry. “just like that, good.. haah.. good fuckin’ girl, shiiit.”
you’ve never seen your boyfriend — the strongest — look so pathetic and desperate, but it only spurs you on further, enjoying the way he continues to blabber about how pretty you are and how he’s gonna fill your mouth like he would your pussy. in response, you greedily hum around him, licking through his slit as if you were pleading the little hole to give you what you deserved.
and only moments later, satoru’s words become reality; though he attempts to keep revelling in the feeling of your warm lips and hands, his body stills in place instinctively, one last warning tumbling out of his throat as your mouth is flooded with rope after rope of bitterly sweet fluid.
it seems like your accusations about his breeder balls were correct, because once it starts it seemingly never ends; cum now overflowing from the corners of your lips as you struggle to swallow frequently enough to not choke on how much he deposits.
meanwhile, gojo feels like he is quite literally ascending, everything becoming unimportant next to you and the feeling of pleasure being forced through him like an overwhelming earthquake, pulse after pulse as you suck him for all he’s worth.
“thas’ right.. take every damn drop, baby.” when satoru looks down and earns a glimpse of the white fluid trickling down your chin, his dick twitches in your mouth. “god, you’re so sexy..”
once he was done, you both flop onto the bed in exhaustion, and while the vulnerable moment has utmost potential to become something cute and memorable, a certain blue-eyed bastard decides to open his mouth once again.
“what’re you huffin’ and puffin’ for?” he sasses, shamelessly eyeing the way your tits rose and fell with every breath you took. “all you did was lie there while i had a full body workout!”
you take a very deep breath. “i just let you put your dick inside me. shut the fuck up.”
at your reminder of what’d just occurred, he grins like an idiot. “you’re right, thank you.” they’re soft, but he ensures his words are as audible and genuine as he can make them.
satoru isn’t exactly the best with words, but he knows damn well that — despite all the bullshit he'd spouted at those parties — you’re the only person he wanted to have his first time with, and the fact that you allowed his wish to become reality is something he’ll forever be grateful for.
“i love you..” you soften. “even if you’re a pillow princess.” you stiffen again.
nothing could stay lovey-dovey with him for too long.
a fake cry is pulled from his lips as you rudely smack his shoulder. “i tried to ride you but you flipped me over after ten seconds!”
“it’s not my fault you're as slow as a fuckin' snail!”
somehow, you both make it to the washroom despite all the banter. just as you bend over in hopes of starting the shower up, a mean spank is delivered to your ass.
when you turn to meet the culprit, he only narrows his eyes at you playfully. “round two, m’lady?” it’s almost like his voice lowers on purpose, dirty words rumbling in his throat, knowing what it did to your body.
you do your best to send him a disappointed glance anyway. “day one of not being a virgin and you’re already the horniest man i know.”
after following you inside, his fluffy hair flattens from the steamy water before nudging you back, encasing you between him and the solid wall.
“i might be willing to overlook the fact that you know other horny men if you agree to some very loving, extremely intimate making out,” he requests with a smirk, sleek nose poking yours in a much gentler way than expected.
you still send him a distrusting raise of your brow. “only making out, huh?”
the dirty smirk he sends you is all you need to know, along with his hardened dick pressing against your thigh as he moves in to kiss you.
what have you gotten yourself into?
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mlist! gojo showing off his back scratches! <- if you enjoy silly virgin gojo pls lmk in the reblogs, comments, or asks <3
© inmaki on tumblr. all rights reserved. do not cross-post, translate, copy in any way, etc.
tags: @gojoallmine @allofffmypeaches @haitaniholic @pandoraium
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cosmosis · 10 months
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based on this image from @fr3akingtf0utrn
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MOVED TO @seratopia
miguel o’hara x reader (fluff) - office life
how miguel o’hara slowly makes you fall for him check out my miguel o’hara masterlist here!
Miguel O’Hara doesn’t fall in love with just anyone.
But... every time he sees you around the office, his hands almost inch towards you like a moth would a light. Something ignites in him that he can’t explain, but he can’t help but want so much more of you. 
He likes to give you bagels and coffee during your breaks. (haha) Your work almost seems to magically disappear, and you’re a lot of the time left to finish up the easy stuff. Somehow, he’s even managed to sit with you for lunch, the rest of the spider-people in the cafeteria staring at the two of you while you eat. 
The entire building, all of the spider-people seem to know the happenings between you and Miguel, and they love it. It’s become somewhat a staple gossip within the workplace.  
Anyone bold enough would pass by Miguel in the hallways and say, “We’re rootin for you, boss!” In which Miguel wouldn’t know how to feel, whether it’d be angry or happy. 
As of now, the two of you have been flirting around, evidently more than just coworkers. He’s yours, and you are his. To you, though, he’s the absolute sweetest. He takes work off your plate, he’s kind, and he adores you. 
You’ve noticed Miguel getting a bit touchy lately, which you aren’t necessarily complaining about. Whether it’d be on your arm, a gentle hand on your neck to guide you through a crowd, or just being generally close to you, Miguel has been making his advances on you after Lyla spilled how it should be fine to do. 
His touch makes you shiver a little; he’s extra warm and so very gentle. You almost always lean into his touch, and Miguel loves it too, he just doesn’t admit it upfront. 
“You did great today, Miguel.“ You say. 
Both you and Miguel just headed back to Nueva York from a mission, taking out another stray anomaly that wouldn’t come without a fight.
 Miguel’s stomach flutters a little. Rarely, he ever gets praised by anyone. He’s the boss, the CEO; most of the time, he feels like it’s expected of him to do the best job. But, praise tastes much more sweeter when it comes from you. 
“You did well yourself, sweetie.“
Miguel’s mask dissolves away, leaving behind his pretty face. You don’t think you’d ever get tired of it. He gives you this look of adoration, one that the rest of the office has never, ever seen in person. 
You’re in Miguel’s office, well, more like your shared office. Miguel insisted that you’d move into his office, claiming, “I don’t want to go through the entire building just to find you for something.” which is code for, “I can’t live a day without being near you.” 
So now, you have your own desk and work area. You’re both alone, no one to bother, (except maybe Lyla, but she knows better.)
You’re at your desk, and Miguel steps up behind you. His big hand slithers to your lower back, running his fingers against the curve of your spine. He’s warm, you can still feel the heat radiating off of him from the previous mission. 
You feel him lean in, discreetly nosing his face into the top of your head. You lean in back, bumping your upper back into his chest. 
“Is this okay?“ Miguel mumbles, serious heat trailing up to his neck and ears. 
You nod. “Yes.”
And it was sealed from there. 
Now, Miguel rubs your back too often. His hand fits into place with your back like a puzzle piece, Miguel always finding some kind of way to lay his hand where it belongs. You love it. 
In the office? Yes.
During lunch? Yes.
Even on missions, he pulls you by your lower back to usher you away from a hit, and you both play around with that. He’s all fun and games when on missions, flirting, teasing, kissing. 
Now, it almost feels wrong when he isn’t touching you. 
. . .
“Hey, girl, look at this!“ 
Lyla pops in, automatically pulling up an internet article on your desk screen. It’s a web article; “The Science Behind Courtship in Male Spiders”
“Lyla, what does this have to do with anything?“ You ask.
Instead, she just scrolls into the article, highlighting a quote; male spiders give “back rubs” to seduce their mates. 
You raise your eyebrow. 
“You wanna know why Miguel’s been rubbing you so much? It’s cause of that!“ Lyla exclaims, as if she’s discovered this new scientific theory. 
“I guess you’re kinda right on that.“ You mutter. But, the more you start to think about it, the more it makes sense.  
Now every time Miguel palms your back, you think about the article. 
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© 𝒄𝒐𝒔𝒎𝒐𝒔𝒊𝒔.
17K notes · View notes
abyssruler · 7 months
Text
roses are red, violets are blue, lynette is so done with the two of you
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lyney x gn!reader
lynette thinks fontaine’s worst kept secret isn’t how neuvillette wears blue underwear or how the hydro archon loves a good drama, no, fontaine’s worst kept secret is lyney’s massive crush on you and how everyone and their grandmother know except you.
comedy, pining lyney, lynette being so done
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Lyney’s frowning.
Most people would find it an odd expression on him, used to having him direct dazzling smiles and playful laughter their way. But Lynette isn’t just anyone, and the sight of Lyney frowning is hardly a rare phenomenon within the privacy of their household.
Freminet’s usually Lyney’s choice of victim for whatever nonsense he’s managed to build himself up in that head of his, but Freminet’s busy doing errands and Lynette is unfortunately the only person within vicinity that Lyney trusts with his secret—which isn’t even a secret by this point, people have been making bets on how long it would take you to realize that Lyney’s been pining over you since forever.
Case in point: Lyney frowning over two identical flowers. She doesn’t need to be a mind reader to know that her brother is having a midlife crisis over which flower to give you.
Lynette thinks he should just man up and confess. Preferably within the next week or so, otherwise she’d lose her bet.
“Lynette, which one is more eye-catching, the crimson one,” he holds up the flower in his right hand, then he raises the other one, “or the maroon one?”
Lynette gives him the deadest stare she can muster. “They’re the same color.”
“Oh, sister, have you no taste?” Lyney tuts, pouting at her for a moment before returning to that constipated look as he squinted at the ‘crimson’ and ‘maroon’ flowers. Talk about being delusional.
“(Y/N)’s not gonna care whether the rose is crimson or maroon or red,” she tells him. You’d probably accept a dead flower if it came from Lyney, with that starry-eyed look you always got whenever he so much as glances your way. Lynette’s not one to judge other people’s taste too harshly, but she does wonder what you see in her overdramatic and annoying brother.
Ah, well. They do say love makes people blind. Hopefully not literally though, Lynette’s not looking forward to performing shows alone because Lyney got blinded by his love for you—though if you asked Lynette, she’d tell you it wasn’t love so much as obsession. Only someone insane would spend hours picking out flowers and calling them ‘maroon’ and ‘crimson’. It’s just red.
Lynette squints at him. “And since when were you interested in the meaning of flowers?”
“Well, I suppose you could say I like to dabble in other pursuits.” Lyney gives her a cheeky grin.
“Right…” He’s clearly losing his mind.
“Red roses symbolize true love, though rainbow roses in particular pertain to passion, and…” He trails off, eyes blinking in astonishment. She can practically see the lightbulb appearing on top of his head.
With a flick of his wrists, the ‘crimson’ and ‘maroon’ roses disappear. Lynette watches him warily, wondering what kind of outlandish idea has formed in that head of his.
But he doesn’t elaborate more, only shoots a wink at her and says, “I’ve got a great idea.”
His great idea, as it turns out, is to corner you in an alleyway and make it rain rainbow roses around you as he asked you out on a date, all while Lynette is crouched on the roof, dumping sacks of rainbow roses and vindictively hoping one of them stabs Lyney in the eye. No such luck.
You, as the ever-crazy romantic that you are, are awestruck and amazed by what he’s done instead of weirded out like how a normal person would be. With an eager smile and a twinkle in your eye, you accept the rose in Lyney’s hand and say yes when he asks you to meet him for dinner tomorrow. Lynette wants to barf, but settles for dumping another sack of flowers on top of the two of you.
And if she uses a little bit of anemo to direct a few petals to Lyney’s face? Well, you removing a petal sticking to his cheek and having your fingers linger there for a few moments wasn’t part of the plan (the plan being: embarrass her brother by having him choke on a petal while he’s speaking), but she can’t entirely begrudge the result. Not when Lyney looks like he’s about to have a meltdown with just one touch from you. Good blackmail material right there.
Lynette’s happy that the two of you have finally gotten your heads off your asses and are actually going on a date. Though mostly she’s happy about the amount of mora heading her way soon.
She’ll have to thank Freminet for telling her about the bet about you and Lyney. Maybe she can start a new bet on when the two of you are getting married—probably soon, if the lovestruck look on Lyney’s face is anything to go by. She hopes he won’t be crazy enough to propose on the second date, because you’d certainly be crazy enough to accept if he did.
Oh, well. Lynette will put a bet on one month just in case.
6K notes · View notes
nereidprinc3ss · 16 days
Text
do you believe me now?
in which fem!reader is insecure around spencer until she finally asks him to take matters into his own hands (literally)
18+ (smut) warnings/tags: inexperienced reader, fingering, softdom!spencer my sweet sweet beloved angel, sub reader, praise, you know he talks you through it, brief mention of drinking wine, i think that's it a/n: i hope u guys like this ! slightly different dynamic than my other stuff maybe but let me know what u think!! i love feedback and i love YOU!!!
“You’re so pretty.”
It’s the first thing Spencer has said since you two landed on his couch, exhausted from one of Rossi’s extravagant soirées. It was your first of many, if Spencer’s entire team is to be believed. More nights featuring Italian food and wine you could never afford don’t sound half bad—but for now you’re drained. You barely had the energy to kick off your heels and topple into Spencer’s lap five minutes ago. The silk dress still pools over his knees and your hair still falls in curls around your face. He brushes one aside as he continues. 
“I mean—you always look beautiful. But I’ve never seen you all done up. You’re obscenely gorgeous.”
You groan awkwardly, burying your face in Spencer’s collar as your face heats. Taking compliments has never been your strong suit, especially from someone who you perceive to be so out of your league. The relationship you have with Spencer is relatively new, and sometimes you worry delicate; like one slip-up revealing the real you and he’ll go running. So far, though, he seems hellbent on proving you wrong. 
His hand finds the bare skin of your arm, passing up and down gently. “Why don’t you believe me?”
“…I do.”
It’s unconvincing. Spencer scoffs. 
“No, you don’t. You never believe me when I compliment you.”
The cadence of his voice is light enough, but it’s evident that there’s some genuine frustration there, lurking just under the surface. 
Your head lolls over his shoulder and he angles his neck to look down at you. Hair falls over his eyes, and you’d fix it if he didn’t look so damn perfect. Everything about him looks intentional, like he was designed by someone who took great pride in their work. Not at all like you—a collage of features and spare parts you guess whatever force created you had lying around. Nothing about you feels on purpose. But that’s a hard thing to explain.
“I’m sorry. I know it’s impolite. It just feels disingenuous to accept compliments like that.”
Goosebumps arise on your arm where he touches you.
“You being polite isn’t what I’m concerned about. I just wish I could make you understand that I mean it when I compliment you. You’d know if I didn’t. I’m a terrible liar.”
That earns a giggle from you. Your boyfriend smiles, sparkling eyes darting over your face like he’s trying to bottle the sound, the memory—and you realize he probably is. What a terrifying thought. You look away, abashed once more. 
“I’m a woman, Spencer. I’m not allowed to like myself. That’s the whole thing with Eve and the snake and the apple and whatever. Eternal inescapable shame.”
“Are you trying to justify your self-loathing by making it biblical? You know I’m the last person that would work on, right? Both as an agnostic-leaning-athiest and someone who thinks you’re beautiful and wonderful.”
Another groan claws its way from your throat as you slide down in embarrassment. 
“You’re killing me here, Spencer.”
“What can I do to do to make you believe me?” he murmurs, carefully brushing tangles from your hair as you now rest practically prone across his lap. The ceiling light stretches behind him, haloing him in a soft glowing crown and making everything a bit more hazy and tolerable. 
“It’s not your fight.” It’s meant to be playfully dramatic, but it hangs from your lips with a painful amount of earnestness. 
“If it’s yours, it’s mine. That’s kind of the whole point of a relationship, right? Being a team?”
His fingers are nimble and warm between yours as you interlace them, steepling and bumping them together as you speak. 
“Well, if you know so much, why are you asking me? It sounds like you know exactly what to do to make me magically love myself.”
A dangerous twitch plays at the corner of his lips as he gazes sleepily down at you. 
“Oh, I have a few ideas. But I’m asking what you’d be comfortable with.”
“Whoa!” you blurt, giggling self-consciously, covering your face with your (and inadvertently one of his) hands. “Where did that come from?”
He smiles at your response to his mildly suggestive comment. “I lose my filter when I'm tired. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.” 
You sigh gustily, dragging his hand down to fall over your collarbones. His fingers twitch over the delicate skin, like he’d graze it if your hand wasn’t weighing his down. 
“No, no, you didn’t make me uncomfortable, you just… surprised me. I’m really bad at talking about this kind of thing.”
“Sex?”
You yelp, slinging your arm over your face and hiding in the crook of your elbow. “AH! Don’t say it!” 
He laughs again, a little less reserved this time. 
“What? You can’t even listen to me say the word?”
“No! Too scary!”
Eventually you peek out from under your arm to find Spencer still watching you. The humor has faded from his eyes and been replaced by a kind of serene calm. He brushes a lock of hair from your shoulder. 
“Come here,” he says—a request more than a demand. With some wriggling and a bit of help, you manage to reorient yourself into a sitting position across his lap once more. His touch is warm even through the fabric of your dress when he kisses you, hand sliding over your waist before moving to trace your jaw and ending up on the back of your neck, urging you closer ever so slightly. You kiss him back without hesitation or restraint, as you delight in doing when he gives you the opportunity. What you may lack in experience and refinement, you make up for with affection and enthusiasm. He pulls away after a minute, much to your dismay, and brushes his thumb over your lips. For the first time, you think you see a hint of worry in his eyes. Guilt claws at your heart when he quietly asks, “you’re not scared of me, are you?”
“No!” You assure quickly, looping your arms around his neck. “No, it’s not you. You’re perfect and I’m sure you really mean all of the nice things you say. But I just… sometimes I worry I’ll scare you away once you realize I’m not as pretty or… good as you thought.”
“That’s impossible.”
Once more you let your head fall onto his shoulder. “You don’t know that.” 
His hand begins running up and down your back, soothing your sympathetic nervous system in a way that all the deep breaths in the world never could. 
“I know that I really, really like you. And there’s not one part of you that I don’t find genuinely beautiful. I can’t imagine not feeling that way about you.” Your eyes flutter shut and you hum against him—a non-answer, but he doesn’t push it. Minutes go by quietly, ticking later into the night as he continues mindlessly rubbing your back and watching you breathe. “Do you want me to take you home?” He finally asks after a long while. Again, you don’t respond. He smiles. “I know you’re awake.”
The corner of your lip twitches as you attempt to suppress a grin. Spencer sighs. 
“I guess if you’re already asleep you’ll just have to stay here. But it would be convenient if you’d sleepwalk to my bed so that I don’t have to carry you.”
When you begin stirring and sitting up (one eye cracked to navigate) he laughs, hands on your waist. “Would you look at that. Who knew she would be so suggestible in non-REM?” You snort as you push yourself to a standing position using Spencer’s shoulders to support yourself, and ruining the whole act. He smiles up at you like you’re something divine and lets his hands trail over your hips. 
“I sleep with my eyes open.”
“Do you often have coherent conversations in your sleep, too?”
You shrug. “I’m full of surprises.”
“I’m sure you are,” he agrees, finally standing himself. “I’m assuming you don’t want to sleep in your dress?”
“I have shorts on underneath I can wear, but a shirt would be helpful.”
“Then we’ll get you a shirt.”
———————————————
Ten minutes later you’re in Spencer’s bathroom, wearing your shorts and one of his sweatshirts (you cannot imagine Spencer in a hoodie), and wiping black sludge from your eyes with makeup remover he claims was left by a friend after a particularly festive Halloween party. Hopefully he’s telling the truth—you can think of more dubious potential origins of the eye-makeup remover in his bathroom. No toothbrush—you use your finger and a generous amount of toothpaste until the red wine stains fade. 
Spencer is fixing the pillows when you exit the bathroom. You hold up your hands which are completely obscured and then some by the thick fabric of his sweatshirt. 
“Fits like a dream,” you say. A smile tugs at his lips as he finishes his task, before raising his eyes to you. The smile promptly fades and it’s like the sun disappearing behind an oppressive gray cloud. In an instant your stomach curdles and you feel like crawling out of your skin. 
“…what?” you mumble, absolutely terrified that the thing he’d said was impossible just minutes ago has already happened. Without makeup, without a fancy dress, you’re just you, and maybe that’s not good enough.
“Uh…” He blinks, as if he’s buffering for a moment, before snapping back into action, and notably looking away from you. “It’s—it’s nothing. Do you, um—here, I tried to make it—“
“Stop. Just tell me what that was. You got all weird.”
Another pause—he looks back up at you reluctantly with a sigh. 
“I did not get all weird.”
“Yes, you did. You’re still being weird. It’s freaking me out.”
He’s utterly unreadable, which drives you fucking insane, when he eventually says, “come here.” This time, you think with a chill as you shuffle on your knees across the bed to sit in front of him, it really sounds like a demand. Spencer grabs your face in his hands, studying you intently. “I know you think I’ve finally decided you’re hideously deformed, but it’s actually just the opposite. I’m trying to figure out how to keep things polite for you.”
Realization dawns on you and the swarm of new butterflies in your stomach. The usual molten gold of his irises has been encroached upon, masked by blown pupils. Your face gets hot and your voice caves when you speak. 
“Oh.”
“Yeah, oh,” he agrees quietly. “Do you believe me now?”
And to his credit, you really do. The hot skin, the vibrating cells in every fiber of your being, the racing heart—your body knows he means it. Part of you, the more confident, more desirous part, drags you closer to him, ghosts your lips over his. He chuckles. 
“Now you’re getting brave?”
“Am I not allowed to kiss you?” you whisper, draping your arms over his shoulders. 
“You’re allowed to do whatever you want.”
The words make you shiver—the lowered, gravelly tone of his voice you’ve never heard before snaps your resolve and you lean into him, connecting your lips with a deep urgency. Spencer inhales sharply, hands wandering to your waist and bearing down firmly as you press against him. When you lean back, he follows you, insists without saying a word that you don’t stop kissing him. It sends a thrill down your spine and between your legs, which both gives you pause and eggs you on. In the end, after a very brief internal struggle, curiosity and desire win. You drop to the bed and drag him down with you—he, your willing follower, blindly searches for purchase on the plush comforter. Now he’s on top of you, legs slotted together so that his thigh is temptingly close to your core. Too shy to actually do what you want to do, you clamp your thighs around his and tilt your hips, desperate for friction. He exhales heavily, slowly pulling his lips from yours like it’s the last thing he wants to do. Fingers dig into the flesh of your hip, not enough to ache but enough to draw your attention to your movements. 
“What are you doing?” he asks, firmly, but not like you’re in trouble—it’s a probing question. He’s trying to figure out if you’re aware of the way you’re nearly riding his leg. 
“I don’t know,” you admit breathlessly. 
“You just told me you couldn’t even listen to me say the word sex,” Spencer reminds you. “You said it was too scary.”
A frustrated whine seems to catch him by surprise, and he laughs. 
“That was a long time ago. I’ve matured since then.”
“Is that what happened?” he teases. 
“Honestly, I’m just really turned on right now, please—" you cut yourself off, crashing your lips into his once more. And he almost relents. 
Almost. 
“Slow down.”
He ceases kissing you for a second time and you’re starting to really get annoyed. 
“What?” you groan. “I thought you wanted this.”
His thumbs brush over the apples of your cheeks, demanding your attention. 
“I want you. In every sense of the word. If you make a bad choice tonight and it means you don’t like me anymore tomorrow, that is the opposite of what I want. I’m not saying no. I’m just asking you to think about it for a second.”
You take a deep breath, closing your eyes and attempting to steady your mind and see beyond the thick fog of lust. What you find is a (mildly surprising) complete lack of fear. You’re not scared, like you thought you’d be; you feel utterly safe underneath him, with his hands on you and his heartbeat against your chest. This is a kind of intimacy you want to have with him. 
Your eyes open to reveal his, close enough you can see the tiny flecks of green. And so much warmth. Everything about him is warm. 
“This is what I want,” you assert. “I promise.”
His gaze flits between yours for a moment, pulling the truth from your soul like he might be able to find an imperfection there. But you mean it—and he seems satisfied. He trusts you, like you trust him. 
“Okay.”
A sigh of relief never quite finds completion before he’s kissing you again. Immediately the fire is stoked once more, the heat between your legs getting warmer when he experimentally pushes his thigh against you. You breathe into the kiss, pressing down on him and surrendering to the unconscious rhythm of your hips. He lets that go on for a minute or two until you’re so distracted that you can’t kiss him back. 
Unexpectedly he pulls away, disentangling himself from your legs. You stammer in frustration until his fingers hook under the soft material of your shorts. “Hips up.”
Wordlessly you comply, succumbing to his gentle words and touch. He bows to kiss you as he slides the fabric down unhurriedly. Once the shorts are gone, he sits up, and carefully lifts one of your legs over his lap, gaze unabashedly glued between them. 
“Eyes up here,” you try to joke, but it’s steeped in self-consciousness and your heart is pounding. He manages, stroking the inside of your knee with a thumb as he leans down again. 
“But you’re so pretty,” he murmurs, before he’s kissing you again. “Just like I knew you would be.”
You whimper when his hand skates over your stomach, lower, and lower, and—
“Tell me one more time, sweetheart.”
Your plead is just as hungry and yearning. “Please, Spencer?”
It works for him. 
When his knuckles brush over your clit, you forget to breathe. When they barely skim your entrance, collecting arousal to drag back upward, your brain malfunctions. It is not enough, maddeningly so, but when he finds a careful, introductory rhythm, it’s immediately bordering on too much, too good. 
Your stomach tenses and you are surprised by your own sighs and hesitant gasps as you try to adjust to the feeling of someone else’s hand between your legs. 
“Does that feel good?” he murmurs against your lips. 
“Mhm,” you chirp. Slow but insistent circles elicit a cry that gets caught in your throat, melting into a hum. Your eyes are closed, but you can hear the smile in Spencer’s voice. 
“You’re sensitive, huh?”
“S—sometimes.”
 He hums contemplatively. 
“Sometimes? Can you tell me about that?”
You can’t hardly think around those gentle movements of his hand, let alone speak. He touches you like you’re something delicate. It’s torturous and perfect. But you try to answer anyway, managing to keep the stammering to a minimum. 
“About what?” 
“I want to know what you think about when you touch yourself.” The smooth words in tandem with an incremental increase in pressure earn you first real moan. Timid and unpracticed, but very genuine. 
The answer comes immediately afterward; thoughtlessly and on a shuddering exhalation.
“You.”
“Yeah?” he smiles. “Good answer.”
Your eyes open fractionally to study his expression. You’d felt so much shame every time you’d imagined him in your bed late at night.
“Really?” 
“Really. And now look at you. Letting me do it for you.” As if to remind you, he speeds up the motion of his hand. On instinct you bring your fingers to your lips as you moan through a closed throat, partly to stifle the noise and partly because you don’t know what to do with the hand that’s not gripping the duvet. “Do you only touch here?” His fingers slide down to your slick entrance and your hips buck, mourning the loss of stimulation. “Or do you touch here, too?” 
You shake your head, breathing hard as he teases a finger around the soft place you’ve never really bothered to explore. “Never feels good when I try.”
“We’re gonna make it feel good, okay?”
You nod hesitantly, leaning back into the pillows when he kisses you again. 
His lips are so distracting, so intoxicating you almost forget what he’s doing until he does it. It’s a foreign sensation—not entirely pleasant or unpleasant. For a moment or two your brows furrow as you focus on the feeling, worried that maybe you’re broken just as you thought—until you feel a slight stretch and you realize he’s pushing a second finger into you now. A kiss lands on your cheek when you grab his arm with a choked gasp, and he mutters, “deep breaths,” into your ear. “I know it’s new, honey, just breathe.”
“Fuck,” you whimper as you look down, and you didn’t realize you were going to say it until it’s already passed between your lips. Pressure begins melding with the promise of pleasure, and something about watching his hand move between your legs—the tendons flexing and wrist bending as he eases into what is clearly a perfected motion—arouses you so much you moan at the sight alone. Flipping pages is all you thought that hand was meant for. It’s like a secret revealed as you watch it do something so salacious, and to you. 
A hot spark of pleasure flares deeper in you than you’ve ever felt. It catches and grows faster than you’d of thought—suddenly you can feel everything and it all feels better than you thought possible. Your jaw drops and a surprised huff of air blows a strand of your hair away. 
“Oh my god,” comes your breathy little whisper, unprepared for and intimidated by how good he’s making you feel. Filthy noises come from between your legs and you clench around his fingers. You had no idea you could make those noises. You had no idea you could get so wet. 
“Yeah, there we go.” His voice sounds a little further away now. You manage to tear your eyes away from all the action to his face. Much like you, he’s transfixed by the sight, brow furrowed and pretty lips parted in what could be concentration, or some sort of empathetic pleasure. His face has more color to it than usual and his breaths come heavier—it’s a very pleasant sight. Suddenly his fingers brush against a spot deep within you and your hips cant upward, a mewl pulled from the depths of your throat that has more control over you than you do it. Spencer’s eyes flash back to you, a grin playing at his lips. He does it again, looking right into your eyes, and you whine so pitifully your face flushes. 
“Too much?” he asks. You shake your head firmly, arching your back when he unconsciously slows down. At your response his fingers begin rutting into you again, committing to that spot inside you that makes you see stars. “Of course not. You’re gonna take whatever I give you, huh?”
“Uh-huh,” you nod. You’d do just about anything for him right at this second. Spencer holds an immense amount of power over you in this moment, and potentially in all future moments moving forward. But you trust him with it. 
“You don’t have anything to prove to me. I just want you to feel good. You’ll tell me if it’s too much, right?”
But it’s really not too much. It’s exactly right. Your verbal capacity is acutely limited right now, so you can’t exactly say it, but you lock eyes with him and whine shamelessly, hips twisting against his hand. You think he gets the message. 
Hair falls over his face and he doesn’t fix it, opting instead to alternate his gaze between your cunt and face, cursing to himself lowly. You wouldn’t want him to stop and fix his hair—what you want is this, for him to keep pushing you toward that elusive edge and to keep looking at you like you put all the stars in the sky. 
“Look at you, my pretty girl. I’m so proud of you. I know this isn’t easy. I know you were scared. Thank you for letting me do this, honey.”
It’s the unexpected tenderness of the words, perfectly misplaced in the context of the moment. It’s the devotion, the honesty in his eyes, shining through the haze of lust, which makes your stomach drop and all your muscles tense. A million thoughts jumble in your head, dizzying and thrilling and confusing, but mostly all you can think is Spencer, Spencer, Spencer. Is this how it always is? Your hands tangle in the sheets—and then all the thoughts vanish. Everything is warm and fuzzy and sparkling clean, no worries, no lingering thoughts, no self-awareness at all. It’s nirvana. It’s revelatory. It’s ridiculous that he did this all in under five minutes and you haven’t been able to do it once even with very concerted effort. 
Slowly you float back into your body, breathing hard and watching through half-lidded eyes as Spencer gently pulls his hand away. Without him you feel weirdly empty and cold, like he should have been there all along. But his touch isn’t absent for long—he runs his hand over the bridge between your hips, little finger dipping into the crease of your thigh. 
“That’s never… I’ve never done that before,” you admit, slurring your words only slightly. 
His perfect features contort into a half-frown, half-smile. 
“You’ve never had an orgasm?” You nod. His head tilts. “Really? You didn’t tell me that.”
“When would I have told you?” you laugh, finding his waist with your hand and encouraging him to settle his weight on you. He does, burying his face in your neck and exhaling heavily. 
“Well?” you ask shyly, skating your fingers over his back. “Did I do it right?”
Spencer snorts, but presses a sickeningly sweet kiss to the curve of your neck. 
“Did you like it?”
“Yes,” you admit, voice smaller than you’d have liked. He pushes himself up onto his forearms and kisses you softly. 
“Then we both did it right.”
“But…” you stare up into his warm honey eyes, searching for any bits of hidden truth you can find. He brushes a strand of hair away from your face, utterly unconcerned. “You know what I mean.” 
“I do,” he agrees, “and I’ll say this because I know otherwise you’re going to worry about it forever.” He studies your face reverently for a moment, before parting his lips to speak. The words are slow to come, like he’s trying to figure the sentence out as he goes along. “You… are going to be, problematic, for me.”
Your whisper is almost as small as you feel under his heavy gaze. “What d’you mean?” 
“I mean,” Spencer begins, voice low, “I think I liked that too much. Do you see why that’s troubling?”
The flame you thought had been quenched flickers back to life like a pilot light. Your thighs press together to alleviate a growing ache in a still sensitive area and you answer, “no,” with a small shake of your head. His thumb tenderly traces your jaw, ever-patient despite the fact that you’re obviously playing coy. 
“Because I can’t have you all the time.”
“Yes you can,” you say without hesitation, though your eyes are fluttering. “You can have me whenever you want. Right now.”
He hums, pressing a kiss to your cheek. 
“Not tonight. You’ve had enough. You’re tired.”
“I’m wide awake,” you slur, tangling a hand in his hair even as you lose the battle against your eyelids. 
He sighs good-naturedly, gently wrapping his fingers around your wrist and brushing his lips over the delicate skin. 
“You’re shockingly precocious.”
You hum. 
“You just unleashed the beast. You’re like Doctor Frankenstein.”
He chuckles, sitting up and finding your shorts. You manage to be semi-helpful, lifting your legs at appropriate junctures as he tugs your clothing back on. “And you’re a nerd.”
“I don’t need to take that from you of all people.”
“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that,” Spencer says, and the smile in his voice makes you smile, a quarter asleep as he leans over to turn off the lamp on your side of the bed before tugging the covers over both of you. 
He pulls you close in the dark, releasing a deep sigh as you curl into him. His heartbeat is steady against your ear, his arms warm around you. You can imagine making a home for yourself here. And you don’t know if he’s thinking it, but you hope he is, as you are silently repeating to yourself with every beat of his heart;
I love you
I love you
I love you. 
2K notes · View notes
monzabee · 14 days
Text
pon de replay - cl16 (+18)
masterlist ||
Summary: The one where Charles decide to prove to everyone that it is him that you belong to, and only him.
Pairing: charles leclerc x reader 
Word Count: 4.8k
Warnings: smuttt, nothing but pure filth, one might even say it is pwp, unprotected sex (cover your willy don’t be silly), oral (f receiving), kinda exhibitionism?, public sex, jealous charles, possessive charles, carlos being a little shit because he’s bored, poor lando, not even sure if i fulfilled the request or not, minors dni!! 
Request: “HELLOOOO! i have an idea and you don’t have to write it but it’s been rattling around in my brain and im never gonna write it (i constantly have way too many ideas to write them fr) myself so i figured i’d send it to you cause you’ve kinda restored my F1 phase with your work. basically, reader being very goofy, funny, and maybe a little bit too loud at times. just like a very silly and bubbly personality and she hangs out with some of the f1 boys (maybe because she’s famous in her own right like a dancer or something) so naturally EVERYONE ships her with lando. like hardcore, almost as bad as one direction fans ships (iykyk), and it sorta makes sense cause when they’re together it’s pure and utter chaos and they both express themselves with physical touch B U T ! she’s actually with charles. to her it makes total sense to be with charles instead of lando cause while lando is definitely attractive he’s too much like her and it’d be like dating herself whereas charles brings out a new calm side to her and she can bring out a goofier side to him. opposites attract type shit😭. maybe a little angst cause charles hates seeing all the edits and also feels a little insecure cause lando and reader DO make sense together in his mind so why’d you pick him instead? then like soft fluff/smut reassurance that charles is literally the man of her dreams, a literal fucking prince, and the best person she’s ever been with. ANYWAYS, im rambling! again, you don’t have to write this if you don’t connect with it or don’t have time i just needed an outlet SOMEWHERE for all the F1 brain rot.”
Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! i first of all want to start by saying that i’m very sorry that this isn’t exactly like the request, like at all, but it took me a criminal amount of time to actually get this finished so we’re not going to focus on that. okay? okay, great!! in all and all it was actually quite fun to work on this at the beginning, it was just kinda hard for some reason to work on the actual smut part, but i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee
Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 
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Charles wouldn’t call himself a possessive person, not a chance. He might be ambitious, and competitive, but possessive? That, he is not. He’s never been the type of get jealous of his partner’s friends, whether male or female, because he likes to think that he is mature enough to understand that people have friends. It’s that simple. And he is most definitely not the type of person to comment on what you wear when you’re going out, he is just not that guy. He’s fairly certain that his mother would materialise out of thin air and give him a good beating if he were to do that. So when you asked him about the dress you have on earlier before you left his apartment, the one that clings to your body so tightly that he can practically make out the outline of your tits from across the room? He just smiled and told you to have fun tonight – because he’s there to make sure you’re not put off by anyone staring at you in it.
So yeah. He’s not usually the type to let the jealousy take over his ability to think things out rationally, but when his girlfriend is dancing her heart away in the middle of the dance floor while every red-blooded men watch her with the same look in their eyes? Yeah, it’s not easy to keep his emotions in check at the moment given the circumstances. And it’s not that he even intends to pout like a petulant child at the bar, making sure to keep an eye on you, it’s just that he is an expressive person and his face reflects what he’s feeling that well. Totally because of that. It’s scary how utterly focused he is on you, watching your every move to make sure no one is bothering you, though you don’t seem to be in need of his help as he watches you dance with one of the girls you met when you first arrived to the club – and with Lando, though he tries not to focus on that part too much.
It's fine, though, he tries to make himself believe, it’s fine as long as you’re having fun. Though that doesn’t necessarily stop him from throwing daggers into Lando’s direction as covertly as he can. The way he has a friendly arm around you is driving him crazy, and he is not above stomping over there to pull you under his arm, drag you to the nearest bathroom and– Well, maybe he shouldn’t get too far ahead of himself just yet.
“They look good together, no?” He hears someone ask him from the side. He realises it is his teammate when he turns to give the person a glare.
“Who?” He asks, deciding to play dumb, but he can’t help himself as he makes a face while focusing his gaze back on you.
“You know who I’m talking about, cabrón!” Carlos exclaims, laughing as he pats him on the back and points to the two of you with a tilt of his head, “I’m glad he’s finally doing something about it rather than sulking around like a geriatric toddler.”
If he would have turned around any faster, Charles is sure his neck would actually, possibly, break. “What?” he spits out as he turns around, “Do you mean her and Lando?”
Carlos gives his teammate a confused look, “Yes,” he drawls out, “you didn’t know he had a crush on her? I thought the entire paddock knew!” Charles feels a surge of disbelief and a tinge of anger bubbling within him.
He wouldn't call it possessiveness, more like a primal instinct to protect what's his. But this revelation catches him off guard, shattering his carefully constructed facade of nonchalance. With doing his best to keep calm under the situation, he asks, “Are you sure you’re not making things up? I feel like you’re misreading the situation here.”
That receives another confused look from his teammate, and though Charles is quite the perceptive person, he misses Carlos starting to put the pieces together – thanks to his overreaction. “I guess so,” Carlos mumbles, loud enough for Charles to hear him in the loud club, “he’s always talking about her, though. The way she smiles, her hair, her dresses; did you know he even went to see one of her performances in Vegas?” Carlos feels bad, really, but there is also something so fulfilling in confirming his theories as he watches his teammate’s eyes bulge out at the mention of one of your dance shows in Vegas. Because Charles knows what those entail.
“I-in Vegas?” He stutters out, eyes moving to focus on your dancing figure again. And at that moment, he absolutely hates Lando. He hates him for having his arms around you, he hates him for dancing with you to the beat in a rhythm he never seems to be able to keep up with, he hates him for the way everybody seems to think the two of you seem to make a handsome couple, and he absolutely hates him for the way he makes you smile.
Charles Leclerc is not a possessive guy – until it comes to you, that is.
“Charles?” He hears Carlos call out his name, but he’s out of his seat long before he can hear the end of his sentence. He doesn’t mean to stomp across the dance floor to get to you. He really doesn’t. He also doesn’t mean to grab you by your arm and put a pause on your fun. And the smile you give him and the way you wrap your arms around his neck while you call him ‘Charlie’? Makes his heart stutter in a way that makes him forget why he ever came over in this first place. Because this should be normal – you, having male friends and spending time with them should not make him insecure. He should be fine with you and Lando spending time together because you both love the hustle and bustle of a club. But at that moment, he doesn’t care about what should be normal, no. He cares about the fact that someone other than him has managed to make you smile, and that he needs to remind you that he’s the only one who should be on the receiving end of all your smiles.
So when he drags you away from the dancefloor (and Lando, for that matter), he doesn’t listen to your objections. He doesn’t care about the way Carlos is watching from his place from the bar, putting all the pieces together as he shares a look with Lando. And he most definitely doesn’t care about the fact that he’s about to fuck you in the club’s bathroom. Well, maybe he does care about that last part. “Charlie,” you whine, your voice clearly scratched from shouting along the lyrics of the songs playing throughout the night, and he doesn’t miss the way you slur his name ever so slightly – which tells him that you had at least two drinks. Cosmopolitans, if he had to guess. “Pleaaase,” you drag out the word, pulling on his shirt to get his attention, “they are playing my song!”
His first mistake is to look at you, because the way your lips form a pout and the way you’re giving him puppy dog eyes is usually strong enough for him to give in. Though this is no usual situation. So instead of moving the two of you back to the dancefloor, he grabs you by your cheeks and presses his lips against you. In the middle of the club, where everybody can see him doing it. The way his lips move against yours is aggressive, and you’re definitely out of breath when he does move away. Cosmopolitans, he realises after tasting you. You've had cosmopolitans. Then, he just gives you a look, threads his fingers through yours and raises an eyebrow. Then he asks, “Are you going to be a good girl and come with me now, or should I do this the hard way and just carry you on my shoulder?”
If this was any other situation, you would totally say something bratty back. Hell, you might have actually said something rude if it meant him being rough with you, maybe spanking you a few times just enough times for you to learn your lesson. But you understand that this is no ordinary situation from his voice and the expression on his face. Charles is like that, you suppose. He’s an open book – meaning that it is very easy to understand what kind of a mood he’s in just by looking at his face, or listening to the undertone of his voice. And right now? Right now you know he’s pissed. You don’t necessarily know what you did, nor do you care. Mainly because all you want to do is make him feel better simply because of the reason that he is one of those people who’s just meant to smile at all times, not frown.
And so you nod gingerly, squeaking out a thimble, “Yes.” You finally meet his eyes as you wrap yourself around his arm, pushing yourself closer to him in the crowded club. “I’ll be good.”
This thumb does that thing where he caresses your knuckle, and he starts moving you through the crowd again. This time, however, you try to stick to him by matching the speed of his steps rather than trying to stay back. You told him you’d be good, you intend to keep your promise. He’s quiet all the way to the bathroom, and he’s quiet when he motions you to get inside, and he’s quiet when he closes to door and promptly locks it behind your back. You think for a moment you’re just there for a chat, maybe about that something you might’ve done, but Charles takes you by surprise as he grabs your waist and pushes you against the door, causing your eyes to widen with realisation of what you’re about to do in that bathroom.
“Charles, what’s wrong?” You try to ask, but he shuts you up with another kiss. And if you thought the previous kiss was aggressive, this one absolutely consumes you. He doesn’t even give you a fighting chance as his tongue quickly dominates yours, and he is relentless as he nips at your lower lip. You can’t help the mortifying moan that leaves your lips, and you push him away to inhale deeply. “What has gotten into you?” You ask, eyes wide due to the adrenaline coursing through your veins, “What happened?”
“You, happened.” He growls. And by that, you mean that he actually growls. His voice is a few octaves deeper than his usual voice, and you can see that he’s snappy. There is this dark look in his eyes that would otherwise scare you if you didn’t know him, but you do. Because he’s your Charles.
And you know this because the quickly leans into your touch when you bring one of your hands up to cup his cheek, giving him a confused look. “Did I do something?” You ask, voice soft amidst the humid bathroom. “Oh my god, is it my dress? Is it too short?” Your eyebrows draw closer as you start properly spiralling. “I knew I should’ve worn the shorts, why didn’t you say something?”
Your mini monologue about your party attire must have struck a chord because Charles suddenly exhales heavily, his forehead resting against yours as he closes his eyes. “No, non, it's not about the fucking dress,” he lashes out, his voice strained, and lace with something else that you can’t quite catch. “I don’t care what you wear, though I do appreciate the easy access.”
“Easy access?” You repeat, testing out the words as you come to a realisation. “What?” You exclaim, quickly taking your hand away from his face to lightly slap at his chest. “No! We are definitely not doing that here, are you out of your mind? You pulled me away because you can’t keep it in your pants until we’re home?”
“And why not?” He asks, and this time, you can see the unbridled rage behind his look. “Would you rather go back to Lando out there? You looked quite happy in his arms after all.”
And the realisation dawns on you right then and there. That this isn’t about your choice of dress for the evening, no. It is about Lando. Though you don’t get that part, since he’s both of your friend, so why is Charles being like this? And you would ask him, of course. But the look he gives you indicates that he doesn’t want to be tested in that exact moment.
So instead, you attempt to calm him down, by dragging your hand gently down his chest and wrapping your arms around his middle. He is like that, your Charles, sometimes he just wants to be held to see reason. “Charlie,” you call out, voice soft as you give him a pleading look, “why don’t you tell me what this is about, hm?”
You think he’s going to finally give in for a moment, but then he just gives you a blank stare. “I don’t want to talk,” he grunts, pulling you flush against him by the hands he has on your waist. His lips are on your neck faster than you can say anything, working his way towards your collarbones. The faint whimpers that come out of your lips bring a small smile to his lips knowing that he’s the one causing them, not Lando or any other guy.
“Charles,” you gasp, your fingers tangling in his hair as his lips trail along your skin. Despite the confusion and frustration swirling within you, you can't deny the way his touch ignites a fire deep within you, consuming your thoughts and leaving you breathless with desire. But as much as you crave his touch, you know that there are unresolved issues between you, issues that need to be addressed before you can fully give yourself to him in this moment. “Charlie,” you repeat, your voice barely above a whisper as you gently push against his chest, urging him to stop. “Stop, we need to talk about this.”
“Talk about what?” He asks, all breathy and with a wild look in his eyes. You can see that he’s trying to hold himself back, but at the same time his hands keep moving on your body in a way that makes you want to let him lose control and perhaps even join him. He successfully ignores your attempts at pushing him away, sliding his hands down on your body to grab the hem of your dress, clenching the material in his hand while dragging it upwards on your thighs until he reaches the soft skin of your stomach. “I have a thing in mind which might help me feel better.” Unable to take your eyes off of him, you take a stuttered breath as you watch him slowly get down on his knees, his lips pressing kisses starting form your sternum continuing down your body over your dress until you feel his lips on the exposed skin of your stomach. His kisses stop once he’s met with the top lining of your underwear, looking at you with a mischevious glint in his eyes as he nips at the nimble lace adorning the top. You call out his name in a weak whimper – though it is not clear to you, nor him, whether you’re asking him to stop or go on. Charles decides to go with the latter. “You know what to say if you want me to stop.”
You don’t really need his reminder, you realise, but it is a welcome one. Your cheeks blush even further when you feel his gaze on you as he lowers his face towards your core, leaving a sweet kiss onto your clit through the fabric of your thong. Suddenly, you want nothing more than to just rip to whole thing apart so there is nothing separating you from him, but you know the game, and you especially know that the ending is sweeter than what you could ever imagine at that moment. And so you wait – you wait until he eventually makes his move and gives your slit a generous lick through the fabric. Watching you is equal parts thrilling and painful, mainly because he wants to drag out his teasing as long as possible just to see you falling apart for him. It’s second nature to you, the way your hand threads through his hair to move him the way you want to, but it is of course not an option because it’s Charles who is in charge.
He makes this known by the way he pulls away, ignoring the way your hands scramble to guide him back to where you want him to be. He nips at the skin of your thigh in a warning manner, pulling a whine from your lips as he fixes you with a look, “You’re not in control tonight, mon bijou, I’ll stop if you try to take over. You got that?” It’s sobering to see him take control in such a way, you sweet little Charles. Usually, he has no problem just laying back and letting you take all the control, or even just making you believe you do. But now? With the way he’s looking at you with such hunger? You know you’d be soaking through your underwear if you weren’t so wet for him already. All you can do is offer him a meek nod, with your lips hanging open in shock, but he is not satisfied with your answer. No, he needs to hear you say the words. So, being the initiative person that he his, he tips at your skin again, this time earning himself a whimper along a grumble about how he’s being unreasonable. He isn’t, but that’s a topic to discuss another time, he decides. “I said, you got that?”
“Yes! Fine, yes!” You whine, grabbing your dress even tighter with your fist that isn’t buried in his hair, “Please just make me come.”
“See?” He asks, flashing you a sweet smile as he lowers his face back onto where you need him the most, “It wasn’t that hard now, is it?” The grumble about how he’s about to be the hard one, makes him chuckle to himself, the rumbling from it making you moan his name as he finally gives you what you want. His tongue works fast as he laps on the wetness through your underwear, soaking the material even more without a care in the world. If you weren’t wet before, you’re sure you’re definitely wet as he drags his tongue through your slit and back onto your clit to suck it through the fabric, causing you to let out a string of moans, each getting considerably louder as he works on your cunt.
The breath is knocked out of your lungs as the moments pass, as you become closer and closer to your impending release. You don’t even notice the fact that you’ve started to move your hips to match the rythym of his tongue, seeking something more to make you tip over the edge. You’re also very aware of the fact that Charles is letting you what you want to do, and though you’re scared out of you midn that he’ll stop like he threatened to do before, the little nod he gives you when you give him a pleading look assures you that he also wants you to come undone on his face.
Or so you’ve thought.
Because he knows your body so well that jus as you’re about to come he pulls back, leaving you high and dry, and even has the nerve to chuckle when he hears his name coming out of your mouth in a high pitched whine. You’re so lost in the moment that you almost miss the way he gently grabs your hands and removes them from his hair, pinning them above you and pushing you against the wall. “Why?” You whine, lips pushed out in a pout as your voice gets gradually whinier, “I was so close, Charles.”
“Oh, baby,” he cooes, “I know you were, I could feel it too.” He starts peppering your feverish skin with kisses, as if to say sorry for leaving you on the brink of an orgasm, and you find yourself arching your neck to expose more of your skin to his skillfull lips. You should stop him, some part of you screams to you in your head, because with the way he’s disguising the fact that he’s marking you with hickeys, but you don’t care at that moment. Your every breath and moan seem to motivate him to work faster, and harder, and when he eventually pulls back to leave a bruising kiss on your lips. A smirk finds its way onto his lips as he gives you an eyeing down, taking in how breathless you look. “Don’t worry, mon bijou, I’ll fuck you now, okay?”
You don’t even realise the nod you give him, too lost in his eyes to put words together to form a proper sentence. He’s gentle with you as he lets go of your hands and positions you the way he wants. With one of your legs wrapped around his hip he has better access to your soaked underwear, his fingers working quickly to pulling it aside. You don’t know when he managed to get himself free from his pants and underwear, but that doesn’t stop you from letting out a loud moan when you feel the tip of his cock circling your clit. “Please, please, please,” your voice cracks as you frantically beg him to do something more. You’d love nothing more than to scold him for the way he shushes you condescendingly, but any complaint you had evaporates when you feel him nudge your entrance. “Please,” you breathe out again, giving him pleading looks as you try to pull him closer somehow, “You promised me you’d fuck me.”
That manages to pull out a beathy chuckle for him, and as if he’s trying to console you, you feel his fingers gently caressing the skin of your hip. “Why don’t you do it yourself, hm?” A grin widens on his lips when you give him a look of confusion, and he leads one of your hands between your bodies for you to wrap it around his cock. “You want me inside you, right?” He rewards your tentative nod with a series of kisses down the column of your throat, “Come on then,” he mumbles into your skin, “put it in, pretty girl.” Exhaling a shaky breath, you keep your eyes on him as you guide him through your entrance. A gasp is torn from your lips when you feel his tip entering you, the initial stretch being more overwhelming because of the fact that you’re standing up. But Charles is quick to soothe you with his kisses down your neck, letting you control the rhythym and how further he can move inside you at first. With your hand making its way down to his hip, pressing him close to you, he quickly gets the message that you’re ready for him. “You’re ready?” He double-checks, raising his head to fix his eyes to yours.
“I swear to god if you don’t fuck me right now–” Your words are interrupted when you feel him move his hips back, just enough to have his tip inside you, and then he snaps his hips forward to thrust back in, making your breath hitch at the back of your throat. It doesn’t take very long for you to become a moaning mess, in fact, you’re more than ready to fall apart for him then and there, but you know he won’t let you until he gets his point across.   
“Look at you, mon bijou,” Charles darkly chuckles, hips matching the rhythym of the song playing outside at the dance floor, “what would people think if they saw you being such a mess for me in a club’s bathroom?” And the whine you let out in response to his question nothing if pathethic, but you can’t find it in you to care because of how good he’s making you feel. “Yes?” He prompts you, mocking the whiny ‘Yes’, that leaves your mouth before you start begging him to let you come. But he doesn’t, because he knows you can hold it until he’s ready for you too, and he tells you just that.
“So good, Charlie, so good,” you can’t help the broken moans you let out as he fucks you to the brink of an orgasm. But that is not enough for him, no. He needs everyone to know the two of you are together now, needs to get out all of his pent up frustrations out.
So when the opportunity presents itself with Lando knocking on the door asking if you are okay? A knowing smirk find its way onto his lips, and you try to silently plead with him with your eyes. “You want to cum?” He whispers in your ear, his thrusts becoming faster. “Say my name if you want to come, baby.”
“Please–” You gasp, hands grabbing the shirt he’s wearing. It’s no avail even if you try to keep your voice down. Because when Charles finds a way to slither his hand down between your legs and starts rubbing your clit in firm circles? You know there is no way you can stay quiet through your orgasm. “Why?” You manage to get out, “God, Charles please.”
“Tell me who’s making you feel so good, pretty girl.” He encourages you, his rhythym now almost brutal as he tries his best to make you come for him. “Come on, tell me who you belong to.” He chuckles darkly when he sees you shaking your head. “It’s not Lando, it’s me. You hear that?” Uh-huh, is the only answer he receives in return, but he is of course not satisfied with it. So, he gently pinches the inside of your thigh. “Tell me who’s going to make you come, or I’ll stop.”
“N-no!” You exclaim, too overwhelmed to see that his threat is an empty one, because he would never actually do something like that to you. “Please, please don’t stop.”
“Come on,” he cooes, the sweet words he whispers into your skin making you more and more malleable to his request. “Say my name baby, let me hear you.”
“Charles,” your loud moan cuts the heavy air in the bathroom. Cheeks flushed, breath unorganised and with that wild look in your eyes? There’s nothing Charles wouldn’t do for you. With every move of his hips, you moan his name louder, eventually tipping over the edge as he feels you squeezing his cock so tight that he almost loses himself then and there.
That’s not to say he doesn’t, of course. Because just as you’re about done with your orgasm, you feel him come inside you, chanting your name alongside mine, mine mine. It takes a long time for the both of you to get back to your senses, but he’s extremely gentle with you as he helps you down and fixes your underwear. You find yourself snuggling up to him when he eventually takes you into his arms after fixing his own clothing, nuzzling your nose to his neck. “You know, I think I like the jealous side of you.” You mumble, leaving a few kisses across his jaw.
“Yeah?” He asks, a breathy chuckle leaving him as he cradles your face with both of his hands, his thumbs caressing the apples of your cheeks.
“Yeah.” You nod, giving him a small smile, “But I need you to take me home, please, I can feel your cum dripping down my leg.”
“Oh baby,” he coos, tutting as he slides his hands down your body to grab you by the waist, “we’re not going home, it would be rude to leave our friends by themselves. Don’t you think so?” The flabbergasted look that you give him makes another chuckle come from his lips as he slowly turns you towards the door. His lips find the junction between your neck and shoulder again as he announces, “We’re going to go back out there, and we’re going to dance. We wouldn’t want you to miss your song now, would we?”
And when he opens the bathroom door and you hear the first words to a Rihanna song you love? You know it’s going to be a long night ahead of you.
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