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#turns out she could so I might add her in as i work on this piece
yandere-paramour · 2 days
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Heyyyyy. So I wanted to know how it will be if Atalanta and Vivien met darling’s parents, and the parents were like “ yes my daughter has told us everything about you” . And I mean like EVERYTHING like darling said told their parents everything about them( including how they treat darling) but you don’t have to add that if you don’t want to. Hope you’re doing well btw ☺️
Vivien is sweating bullets. In my version of the story, Darling has no idea about his murders because he generally only eliminates the scum of society or people who hurt/upset Darling. However, Vivien will immediately freak out and think that everyone knows what he did. His eyes are wide, he's sweating, he's fidgeting, he is literally doing everything to make himself seem more suspicious. And he worked so hard too! He put on a nice shirt and combed his hair all nice, AND he brought Darling's parents a cake he baked. He wanted to make a good impression so bad and now everything is ruined! He doubts Darling will visit him in the maximum-security prison he is definitely getting put in. Vivien's thoughts are spiraling when Darling's Dad says "She told us all about the fresh strawberries you grew for her :D She says you're such a great horticulturist". He just stares for a second, then he snaps back to his regular easy-going personality. But late that night he's lying awake in bed thinking that he needs to calm down and probably not commit any murders for a while. Just in case.
Atalanta brought a very expensive bottle of wine to meet Darling's parents. As the day grew closer, she researched them extensively, trying to discover anything they might bring up. She wants to make sure she seems perfect, and everything seems to be going okay, but the situation has an unidentifiable weird vibe. They all sit down to dinner and open the bottle of wine. I doubt Darling would actually say out loud what Atalanta has done; I think there's a higher chance the parents would read between the lines or make up their own terrible conclusions. When they say this, Darling freezes and Atalanta's carefully constructed smile drops off her face.
After a full 30 seconds of tense silence, Atalanta speaks, setting down her fork, "Darling, I believe I heard Abebe call for me. Could you go see what he wants?"
"But-"
"Darling." Atalanta shoots her eyes to the side, giving Darling a look.
Darling blanches, hurrying up from her seat to go check on the guards stationed outside the suburban home. When she leaves, Atalanta turns her attention back to her in-laws. She expertly picks up her wine glass, swirling the golden liquid a little.
"Now, I truly believe I heard you wrong. What was that you said?" One could never say Atalanta wasn't kind; here she was giving them a second chance.
"I'm going to the police about what you've done with my daughter," Your father hisses, standing out of his seat, "You won't get away with this, you bitch."
Atalanta takes a sip of white wine, the corners of her mouth turning up into a small smirk, "Oh Richard... Who's going to believe you?"
Your father turns an angry red and your mother tries to pull him back down, looking between him and Atalanta in fear.
"Thank you for having me in your lovely home," Atalanta stands up, inclining her head in respect to her elders, "I'll send my precious Darling in to say goodbye. I suggest you stay quiet, if only for your own self-interest. I am extraordinarily lenient with my Darling, but that benevolence does not extend much farther. I'd hate to have to arrange some sort of "accident". I expect Y/N to be back in the car in five minutes.
She smiles, showing off her perfect teeth, "Please have a good night and a pleasant tomorrow."
Atalanta walks away, leaving your terrified and fuming parents in her wake.
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e-adlirez · 3 months
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Chinese/Lunar New Year
So uh for the past few days I’d been contemplating a Chinese New Year piece for this year in particular because uh it’s the Year of the Dragon and that plus dragon dance so perfect a combination it makes, but uh… admittedly I bit more than I could chew so uh :’D
I wasn’t able to make a full artwork in time, but I do have my cleaned up sketch to show for the holiday, so without further ado, happy Chinese/Lunar New Year Stilton fandom <3
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It’s very not complete and the dragon’s details aren’t even drawn in but I hope ya’ll like it anyway
I am planning on finishing this tho so stay tuned for that :3
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toytulini · 7 months
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can i access the tunglr on work wifi but not discord. insane
#toy txt post#apologies in advance. nonzero chance this means i liveblog The Horrors. of slogging thru work#and or also liveblog. my own going insane over tryimg to remake character playlists now that the characters have evolved enough#that i look at their og playlists like.......what was i thinking#mostly. mostly Bytte#its just#hard to find things that match Bytte or Headloose or both of them and their. fucked up little dynamic both tonally and lyrically?#like in theory i Want to put Shakiras She Wolf on Bytte's playlist. its so iconic and In Theory. it could match. i could force it#in practice........god i dont even know how to expkain how it does not fit Bytte like....tonally and probably not even lyrically#i love bridge city sinners sound and a lot of their lyrics and would love to put them on both playlists but like lyrically and subject wise#theres just.....not much that fits?#i might be willing to try to explain Why It Doesnt Fit if i had more time ? and wasnt just typing in between printing labels..idk#and defining what doesnt work and why might in turn help me find more stuff that Does#i think i need to listen to a little more uhhhhhh. megan thee stallion? is that how u spell her name? for bytte. unsure. its so tricky#like half the shit on her playlist like only a couple lines in the song Really vibe w me idk#i actually just. remade her playlist completely the other day and im less mad at it now but it still could use a lot of improvement#theres not a good like.....flow between the songs? ig?#need to. figure out headloose now also.i think in fairness when i made Bytte's playlist i still hadnt really developed her as a character#much at all yet? idk#im not As Mad at either of Headloose's playlists theres just a bunch i need to add and reorganize and prolly need to trim? and tbh i prolly#need to just honestly make multiple separate playlists for all of them like i did for Suki....#that will be similar and have plenty of overlap but have different nuances for the different eras of their lives#like. idk maybe Bytte needs to just have a Separate playlist for how her approach to and relationship w her sexuality evolves between#how she is as a human and. warlord. and then ig after she is w headloose which#is after she decides to become a demon but before shes fully transformed cos shes not dead yet so the evolution there is still#more subtle until she turns fully. and headloose gets 1) better at controlling the shapeshifting and healing factors and#2) Headloose getting more fucked up kinks. i guess. or learning more of his own fucked up kinks. or whatever#and the influence that has on her as well AND ALSO her like. lowkey toxicity in any attempts at long term rships#due to being a woman in a weird position in a point in history where we probably didnt have a word for aromanticism#...im out of tags. how does this happen everytime
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eloves-writes · 4 months
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careful who you’re talking to
[coriolanus snow x reader]
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desc: snow hears a conversation with the academy boys about the girl he is secretly seeing and wants them to know who you belong to warnings: snow being snow like fr (toxic, controlling, insane, blah blah blah), smut, exhibitionism, public sex, unwarranted sexual comments about reader behind her back, she/her pronouns used, reader is wearing a dress, if i need to add any other warnings please lmk a/n: hiiiii! i'm back again. this is slightly unhinged and i didn't mean for it to be this unhinged but anyway hope u enjoy, send any and all coriolanus requests my way! mwah mwah mwah ily this work contains mature themes, minors dni
it was a cold night in the capitol, and you were steadily sipping a glass of posca to keep warm in your blood-red dress. the silky material was slit up your leg and cut down to reveal just the right amount of cleavage; you might feel a chill but you looked damn good and everybody knew it.
especially coriolanus snow. the two of you had been spending a lot of time together recently- behind bookshelves in the library, in dark corners of the academy halls, bend over desks in empty classrooms. it had begun as purely physical. stress relief. but after a month or so, you had each caught feelings for the other and were struggling with whether or not to admit it. and in that moment, he was also struggling tremendously to take his eyes off of you.
you stood talking across the room with arachne and livia, unable to concentrate on whatever meaningless gossip they were discussing with the feeling of coriolanus’ ice blue eyes on you; there was an electric thrill passing between you like you were connected with a live wire. to say your relationship so far had been hot and heavy would be an extremely severe understatement, and you found your mind constantly occupied with the thought of him touching you and the need to have him touch you again.
-
“i think y/n is checking me out,” festus creed smirked to the group of boys around him.
coriolanus almost snorted in amusement. you were obviously looking at him, and only him.
“something funny, snow?” gaius asked sharply. “jealous, perhaps?”
snow reserved his irritation. “not at all, breen.”
“whoever she is looking at,” felix stated earnestly, “i’m certainly jealous of them. i mean, just look at her. she looks fucking hot.”
festus nodded in agreement. “i’d love to rip that dress off of her. she acts so innocent, but you just know she likes it rough.”
coriolanus felt his blood boil. you were his. how dare they talk about you like you were a common whore? perhaps you did like it rough. he would know, he was the one fucking you. not these basic capitol losers. none of them could make you scream the way he did. none of them had scratches down their backs beneath their shirts from your nails. only he did. only he ever would, and he would make sure it stayed that way.
the other boys laughed, agreeing with festus. adding on their own ideas. detailing the ways they’d make you fuck them. describing the times you had supposedly sent them signals. assuming that you did not already belong to snow, that you would even think about going near them. that you would get on your knees for them like you always did for coriolanus.
he couldn’t listen to them any longer. “she’s seeing somebody,” he jeered, fixing the cuffs of his jacket and making definitive, unquestionable eye contact with you and subtly tilting his head towards the exit.
festus laughed incredulously. “is she now? i think we’d have heard.”
oh you’ll hear it alright.
“yes,” coriolanus replied with a chilling calm, watching you make your way to the door. “if you’ll excuse me.”
-
on the steps outside the ridiculously grand building, you waited patiently for snow to follow you out. it was only a few minutes before you heard the door open again, turning to face corio and immediately sensing anger. you worried, sometimes, about his anger. you knew he wouldn’t seriously harm you, but the same could most certainly not be said for any others who dared cross his path. the future president of panem could only afford so much blood on his hands.
“what’s wrong, coriolanus?” you asked gently.
he inhaled deeply and stared into your eyes in a way that strongly suggested you would be unable to walk the next morning. you waited for him to answer.
“you shouldn’t have worn that dress," he warned.
“what?”
“you heard me.”
either the cold or a fucked up part of you sent shivers down your spine, hairs standing up on your neck. your underwear dampened at his fury.
“i thought you would like it, corio,” you flirted, stepping closer to him. he placed a large, firm hand on your waist.
“i do like it, y/n,” he said before speaking in a low voice. “i would like it better if you took it off.”
you smiled and leaned up to kiss him, but he turned his head. you pulled a face in protest.
“behave,” he spat. “so desperate. do you not want to know why you shouldn’t have worn this?”
“yes, corio,” you replied, doing your best impression of somebody who wasn’t about to throw yourself on top of him. he liked when you were patient.
“because every man in that room wants to see it on their bedroom floor," he attested lowly.
“and you’re jealous,” you smirked.
coriolanus suddenly grabbed a fistful of your hair and roughly pulled your head backwards so that your face was tilted towards his. “and nobody else should be looking at you like that.”
a jolt of excitement ran through you. “corio-”
he gave your hair another tug. “say you’re mine.”
“am i yours?”
he realised instantly the meaning of your question. he didn’t have to think about his reply; he had thought about it every waking moment since the day you met. “you’re mine. say it.”
“i’m yours.”
“good girl,” snow spoke deeply before kissing you like he’d never kissed you before. without breaking apart from your lips, coriolanus guided you around to the side of the building. he counted the windows you passed until finally stopping by one that was cracked open and pushing you against the cold wall. as he removed his jacket and unfastened his belt, he looked inside the hall and you assumed he was checking no one was looking. he wasn’t. he was making sure that festus creed and the other boys were still stood in the same spot; directly in front of this particular window, and far enough from the rest of the partygoers that only the boys would hear you.
you gathered the skirt of your dress at your waist and wrapped your legs around corio’s sturdy form as he reached to move your underwear to the side. he circled your clit until you were practically whimpering, then slid two fingers inside of you.
“corio, feels so good,” you moaned softly.
he kept his same pace with his fingers, fucking you into a state of bliss where he knew you would be uninhibited and so drunk with his stimulation that people would think you’d finished every glass of posca in this stupid party. coriolanus was too good at what he was doing, you were on the edge of release within minutes and still desperately trying to quiet yourself in the name of dignity.
“corio, please, corio, i’m so close,” you whimpered into his neck.
he pulled away his hand, making you whine in displeasure. he liked to do that. liked to know he was in complete control of you, you would only cum when he willed it.
corio looked through the window again, but the boys had yet to hear anything out of the ordinary. they were still laughing amongst themselves. he unzipped his pants and pulled out his cock, using the slick on from your pussy to stroke himself before he pushed inside of you.
you tried again to stay quiet, but coriolanus began to coax you. “look at you, taking me so well. you wouldn’t let anybody else fuck you like this, would you? who makes you feel this good, huh?”
you couldn’t hold back anymore, his beautiful face spewing such foul things whilst fucking you raw and digging his fingertips into your flushed skin. “you do, corio. fuck,” you moaned, loudly enough that festus turned to look outside.
coriolanus smirked as they made eye contact. the initial confusion about the sounds coming from outside, the look of shock as he realised his classmate was balls deep in a girl he had pushed against the exterior of a building in the damn capitol, his face finally dropping as he realised who corio was fucking by the colour of your messed up hair and the visible strap of your dress, his eyes widening as he heard the things snow was saying to you.
your moans were getting louder too as you got even closer to your orgasm, whimpering corio’s name and repeating “i’m yours,” like a mantra.
snow took his gaze from the boys to you, feeling satisfied that he’d proved his point and starting to performatively enjoy himself, knowing yours weren't the only eyes on him. his pace quickened, driving you over the edge and making you clench around him as you came. he moaned aloud himself as continued to fuck you through your high and the overstimulation that came after until he finished inside of you.
you were completely fucked out, relishing the feeling of snow’s cum beginning to drip down your thighs after he swiftly removed your underwear to fold into his back pocket. he picked his discarded jacket up from the floor and placed it over your shoulders, kissing your head and leading you to the front of the building and helping you into a car which would take you both home. before you walked away from the window though, coriolanus smoothly pulled your lace panties from his pocket and waved them nonchalantly in the night air, catching the attention of the rest of the group. you would never have to know why he fucked you, only that the boys would stop bothering you now they knew who you belonged to.
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cherryredstars · 6 months
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Not sure if I’m doing this right since I’m new to tumbler :D but hi love ur writing followed you in an instant!
I was wondering if you could write something for a very low self esteem, inexperienced reader who goes to uni so is like 21 or something and is Miguel’s neighbor. They live in this building and their other neighbor is a rude lady who complains at the slightest Noise basically. she doesn’t dare bother Miguel but is always bothering the reader since reader can’t tell her to f off. Reader is just such sweet chubby lil cinnamon roll :(
Idk if I should have been less descriptive or more TvT; ?
Anyway hope you’re doing great :D don’t forget to hydrate ♥️
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1K Prompts
Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader
Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Age Gap, Sexual Touching (With Clothes on), Slight Fluff
Summary: He helps you, you help him.
A/N: This is perfect, don’t worry, love!!!
Word Count: 2.4K (Not Edited)
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This is most definitely going to leave you a crying wreck in your bathroom later.
Your nerves were already on high alert with finally becoming independent and moving out of the college dorms, that pesky exam and assignment you procrastinated on working on, and your job has been firing and hiring people left and right. The last thing you needed was your cranky old neighbor, (it is crazy to think that you once thought she was going to be a kind old woman who would give you cookies when she was lonely), to come banging on your door with a  list of complaints and reasons why she could get you evicted. You do not know what to do, never being in this type of situation before. Honestly, you do not even know about half the things this woman is accusing you of. 
You can only stand there, hand tightly holding the door open as you try not to cry from stress. In your head, you are counting in an effort to make sure your breaths are coming out evenly. The last thing you want is to have a panic attack and have your neighbor add the threat of a mental hospital to the list. You nod along weakly to what she says, letting out whispered apologies that only seem to make her angrier. 
“You useless teenagers and your need to ruin good things, don’t think I forgot when you tr-”
“Is there a problem here?”
His voice is deep and smooth, causing the both of you to jolt. You visibly relax when you turn your head to find Miguel standing outside his apartment door. He has just gotten back from work and running errands, his lab coat draped over his arm as he holds paper bags in his arms. His hair is slightly tousled from the autumn breeze, and a few strands of his black hair are scattered with grey. His sweater hugs his arms and torso in a way that is mouthwatering, and you quickly look away when his eyes meet yours.
Miguel is the only neighbor you really know. He had helped you the first time you moved in, hearing the way you struggled to bring some things up to your apartment. He offered to help, carrying in boxes faster than you could into your apartment. When you had gotten furniture, he was happy to come over and assemble it for you. He is so kind to you, offering to help with a leaking pipe or to answer any of your questions about how to do something. You might have grown a slight crush on your neighbor, something that slightly freaked you out when you realized because of the obvious age gap the two of you have. You have not even finished college yet and he is in his mid-thirties working in a big corporate lab. 
Miguel clears his throat and you look back at him. He stares at you expectantly, totally ignoring the stuttering woman who tries to answer his question. He is only ever interested in what you have to say. You flush under his intent gaze, quickly shaking your head. You do not want to cause more problems, and you definitely do not want to have your cranky neighbor form a bigger vendetta against you. 
Miguel’s eyebrow raises, definitely catching the anxious expression on your face. He hums dismissively after a minute, eyes lazily trailing back to the older woman. His nose scrunches up slightly at the sight of her and he looks away again as the woman stops trying to defend herself. Miguel shrugs, the paper bags rustling with their contents. He turns to face you, once again ignoring the older woman. 
“Then you wouldn’t mind helping me put away my groceries, right? Can’t get my keys with my hands full,” Miguel speaks in a lazy drawl. 
You are quick to nod your head in agreement, stepping out of your doorway and closing the door. The woman steps back, a displeased look on her face as she watches you walk over to Miguel. Miguel keeps his eyes trained on you, watching everything you do. You are shy when you smile up at him. With your back turned towards the old woman, you mouth a ‘thank you’ to him. His eyes instantly snap to your lips, intently studying your exaggerated words. His eyes seem to darken for a second before he blinks and it is gone. His eyes trail back up to your eyes and he tilts his head slightly down. 
“Keys are in my pants pocket.”
You quickly nod, whispering out an ‘okay’. Your face burns as you have to get closer to him to not knock into his arms. The angle is slightly awkward, your hands slip into his pants pocket and your face burns from having your hand so close to his…thing. As you try to find his keys, Miguel looks down at you with a heated look. He watches silently for a few minutes before looking back up and over your shoulder to the older woman. His face is masked in indifference, maintaining eye contact with her until she fidgets and turns away without saying a word. 
At the same time she walks into her own apartment, you make a sound of victory as you finally retrieve his keys. You dangle them in his face with a proud smile, and he gives you an amused smirk. He steps away from his apartment door, giving you room to step in front of him and unlock his door. As you insert the key, you feel Miguel press up against your back. His warmth seeps into your spine and you are quick to bite your tongue so you do not let out a squeal.  
His breath tickles your neck and ear, warm and slightly minty. “What did I tell you about standing up for yourself, hmm cariño?”
The question rumbles with his voice and you have to hold your breath in order to not make an embarrassing sound. You turn to look at him over your shoulder and instantly regret it. He has not moved his face yet, and you are a breath away from him. If you leaned forward the slightest bit, your noses would be touching. You gulp nervously, and Miguel’s eyes trail down to your lips once again. He lets out a deep hum as you lick them nervously. 
“I- she’s not that mean to me.” You whisper out in the older woman’s defense. You cannot help the way your lashes flutter as you try to meet his eyes. 
Miguel scoffs at your defense, finally backing away from you. He shifts his hold on the bags, freeing his hand to turn the doorknob. Your hand is still there, and your breath hitches when his large hand encompasses yours. His hand moves both yours and the doorknob, making a combined effort to open the door. You are still watching him from over your shoulder, mouth slightly opened in awe. Miguel looks down at you, something playful in his eyes as he tilts his head to the side. 
“You’re blocking the doorway, cariño. The ice cream I got you is going to melt.”
Your blush returns from the pet name and you stutter out an apology as you rush inside his apartment. It’s warm, and you’re hit with the smell of him. You find the light switch and turn on the lights, flooding the whole place with a warm glow. Miguel follows you into the kitchen, placing the paper bags on the dining room table. He rummages through them, glaring at you when you try to grab one to start helping. His hands connect with something cold, and he pulls out a personal pint of ice cream. He hands it over to you and you turn it around to see the label. Your eyes instantly light up when you read the brand and flavor. Last week you had ranted to Miguel about how the grocery store did not have your favorite ice cream in stock as he was fixing a problem with your internet. The whole time he just hummed along, you did not actually think he was listening. 
He smiles softly at you as you beam up at him. He turns back to the groceries, sighing when he sees your hand reaching for the bags again. He turns to you with a bored expression. He gently removes your hands from the bag, telling you to go eat your ice cream before it melts. You grumble playfully under your breath, complaining about how you were supposed to be helping. He chuckles as he follows after you, getting a spoon out for you. 
“I thought the whole point was that I was supposed to help you put the groceries away, not eat them.” 
Your complaining is cut off by a yelp when Miguel grabs your waist. He lifts you up, putting you on top of the counter. Your eyes are wide as you look at him and his head nuzzles into the crook of your neck. You squirm slightly from his proximity. 
“You can help me by sitting prettily and keeping me company. Tell me about your day.” 
He pulls away then, returning to the dining room table and carrying a bag to the counter next to you. Your eyes are still bashful as you watch him, quietly opening your ice cream and beginning to eat it. Miguel starts to pull contents from the bag and looks over at you expectantly. Hesitantly, you begin to go through your day, easing into it the more you talk. You speak between bites of ice cream, half paying attention to Miguel as he walks around the kitchen to place things in their proper places. Occasionally, he looks over at you as you speak, his eyes trained on the way you place the spoon in your mouth and lick at the delicious treat. 
You are almost done when he puts the last thing away. He walks over to you as you continue talking absentmindedly, just finished slipping the spoon out of your mouth again. You stop talking when Miguel’s eyes drop to your mouth, his thumb coming up the swipe at your lower lip. When he pulls it away, a bit of melted ice cream is stuck to his skin. His eyes meet yours again when he brings it to his mouth, licking it away. He hums in appreciation for the taste. 
Your mouth drops open with a gasp as you watch, eyes trained on the pink muscle. You watch as his lips form a sly smile, and you blush as you look back into his eyes. But his eyes are still trained on your parted mouth, eyes dilated and hungry. He leans forward slightly, hand returning to rub at your bottom lip before he replaces it with his lips. He is not kissing you exactly, only sucking on your lip until it is swollen and red. He gives it a small nip before he pulls away, his hands falling to rub your thighs. It causes a small whimper to escape your mouth and Miguel basks in the noise. 
His hand seeps closer and closer to the area between your thighs, grabbing the carton of ice cream and moving it to the side. His hands hastily return to the area between your thighs, fingers brushing against your center. Your breath hitches and you look down to where his hands are. Your attention is snapped away when his gravelly voice meets your ears. 
“Continue with the story, querida. You don’t sound like you finished.”
You stutter over your words, the topic of conversation blanking from your mind. Miguel chuckles knowingly, his fingers continuing to brush up and down until they land on your clothed bud. He presses into it hard enough so you can feel it through the fabric of your pants and panties, gently reminding you where you left off. You nod nervously, hands snapping up to meet his shoulders as you feel wetness rushing into your panties. You stutter and choke on your words, eyes shutting as you rotate your hips sloppily into his hand. The movement is jerky, and you feel slightly embarrassed at how painfully obvious it is that no one has ever touched you like this before. But Miguel seems to like it, likes the idea that you’re untouched and he is the only person who has seen you like this. 
It gets even better when you make those soft noises, cutting yourself off and having to be reminded about what you were saying. Miguel continues his hand movements, pressing into you and rubbing and stroking. Your wetness has seeped through your panties, dampening the material of your leggings. If you were not lost in how good it feels, you would have been grossed out and uncomfortable. A weak call of his name escapes you and Miguel looks up from your cunt to look at your face. He hums in acknowledgement, watching as you try to pull his face closer to yours in a kiss. 
He swiftly avoids it, and you would have curled into yourself at the blunt rejection if you did not become distracted by his mouth suck and licking along your neck and jaw. Your mouth falls open with a moan, head leaning back to give him more room. He groans against your skin, fingers pressing tight circles to your clit. With a few hard circles, your back arches and your hold on him tightens. Gasping moans leave you and you feel the band in you snap, releasing more wetness into your panties as you finish. Miguel pulls his head away from your neck, keeping his fingers to your bud as you ride out the orgasm. Once you slump back down, he pulls his hands away. As you catch your breath, Miguel cleans up the mess on the counter. He reaches over, closing your melted ice cream and putting the spoon in the sink. 
You are still in a daze when he pushes the warm container in your hands, his own hands gentle as he lifts you off the counter. Your eyes are glossy in after-lust as he gently guides you out of his apartment and into yours. His warm hand leaves the small of your back, massaging your sides before he whispers a thank you into your ear for your help. You are only pulled completely out of your daze when you hear your door lock and close as Miguel leaves. You turn to look at the door, cheeks blazing as you clutch tightly onto your ice cream.
You are totally getting a noise complaint for that old woman tomorrow.
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Pt. 2 Pt. 3 Pt. 4
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That Fire is Repeated
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AO3 Link
From an anonymous ask: fic of where instead of Price, it's reader who's been infected with sex pollen?👉👈please and thank u!
Deep in the southern jungles of Urzikstan, Captain Price is sent to help with your extraction. On your way out of the makeshift Konni laboratory, you accidentally step on a trap, and Price volunteers to save your life.
“I can’t hear her comms!” Simon yelled out over the noise of the helicopter, pointing to his headset and giving the thumbs down to Laswell.
She typed something into her datapad and showed it to him, yelling back,
“Dead zone! You’ll have to go in on foot.”
Price adjusted his vest and checked to make sure his gun was fully loaded,
“I’ll go. She’s my recruit, my responsibility.”
“Sure you’ll wanna be the big hero for her, too, huh?” Farah laughed from the cockpit, glancing over her shoulder as Price twisted his face, cheeks turning a pretty shade of pink from his shame. 
It was well-known that Price had a terribly strong crush on you. You had accepted his advances, but he was reluctant to take it further, realizing that fraternizing was frowned upon. So, you pined for each other from afar, and the whole base knew about it.
Laswell rolled her eyes at Farah’s comment, 
“Should we go back to basics? Captain: don’t subtract from the population,” her eyes narrowed, “Don’t add to the population…”
“Yeah, alright, Kate. Got it. Loud and clear,” Price waved her off, staring out the window and ignoring the obvious ribbing from his colleagues. 
“Go get Sparrow and let’s go the fuck home,” Laswell hollered at him, opening the door to the chopper and letting the air whoosh inside.
The wind stung his cheeks, and the tall grass blades spun and twirled like violent dancers as he made his way towards the old, dilapidated lab. You’d been sent to infiltrate secret Konni operations here, disguised as a chemist. Now that the Konni operatives had been dispatched, you secured the intel and were ready for extraction. Price was ready to have you back. These types of ops were so delicate. One wrong move would put you in danger. He was glad the worst of it was over. 
As quickly and as carefully as he could, Price made his way inside. It was a little odd that you weren’t outside waiting for the extraction, so his guard was up. In the main lab, he spotted you, standing with your bag and your weapon with your back towards him. 
“Little bird?” Price questioned under his breath, moving forward slowly, using the pet name he saved for when you two were alone. 
“Hey, Captain. Glad you made it,” you called out to him, your voice tinged with obvious sobbing and stress. 
“What is it, Spar? What’s happened?”
He made his way around the lab table and saw you. You were standing stock-still, staring down at your foot. Then, he knew what had made you cry. 
Jutting out of your pant leg, a giant syringe was stuck into your calf, empty.
Price leaned down to help you, removing the needle, panicking at the thought of losing you,
“Can you move?”
“When I do… Captain, it’s excruciating.”
“Fuck,” Price tried the comms. But, then he remembered it was a dead zone, and no one was coming to help him. He asked you, “Is it poison? How’d this happen?”
“They call it XLR8. It’s what they’ve been working on. A prototype. I was bending down to grab my bag and this was rigged to hit me. They knew I was a spy.”
“What does it do, this prototype?” You heard his voice quiver at the end of his question. 
You blushed, laughing a bit, 
“It incapacitates you, first. Removes your inhibitions, next. Then, it causes extreme vasodilation…”
“In the Queen’s bloody English, love. Please…”
“John,” you used his name, looking up into his eyes, “I may ask you to do things to me. Things that I might not usually ask for. And I want you to know that you don’t have to listen to me. I don’t want you to do anything… I don’t want to force you to do… things…”
“Birdie. Tell me what I need to know.”
“When the Konni scientists injected it into mice, they would breed… for hours. They wouldn’t eat, they wouldn’t sleep. One time, a researcher opened the door to the cage, and they didn’t escape. They only bred…” You looked at him in his eyes, making sure he heard you, “But, the mice who were alone in their cages and were given XLR8 got a high fever and died. Every last one of them”
“Are you… “ Price pointed down at your leg, “Do you mean to say that you’ll need someone to…”
You looked down at the ground, steeling yourself for the harsh reality of what was to come,
“When the drugs hit my system, the effects were immediate. Stage one should be almost over now.. You’ll… you’ll know it when you see stage two. But, listen to me, John. I couldn’t live with myself if I forced you to do something that you would regret. Please. I’m sure they’ll think of some other way to help me…”
“Little bird,” he caught your gaze and smiled softly at you, “I’m here for you. I’m not going to let anythin’ happen to you. I won’t lose you to this. I can’t… I care about you too much. I’m going to catch you, and we’re going to get out of here. Just fall forward into my arms, love. I know it hurts. We need to get you to the bloody medic as soon as we can.”
You nodded, and then you did as he commanded. Every movement felt like some sort of hell. You could hear yourself screaming, but it was muffled, your face buried in his chest. You were hanging, limp, against John’s body. You could feel every stinging step he took as it jostled your body. Suddenly, you heard the angry clipping of chopper blades. Then, you passed out. 
Sometime later, you awoke, still on the chopper, sitting in the jump seat way in the back. Well, that wasn’t quite accurate. Price was sitting in the jumpseat and you were… straddling his lap. 
You were humping him, shamelessly, right in front of Farah, Laswell, Gaz, Soap, and Ghost. The helicopter was full of soldiers, and here you were, uncontrollably rocking your hips against your captain. The others tried to avert their gazes, sitting at awkward angles, trying not to watch, but that somehow made it worse. 
You cried out as if you were in pain, and Price held you closer, soothing you with his deep, rumbling voice, speaking to you right in your ear,
“Shh, shh. It’s alright, little bird. I’ve got you. Almost home. Just a few more minutes.”
“John… fuck, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry… I need… oh, God.”
“I know what you need,” he kissed your neck, and he took his hand and shoved it down the front of your pants, giving you something to grind against. 
His fingers were strong, and the tips of them were thick, easily pressing through your folds for you, exciting your nerves just the way you liked.
You moaned loudly, unable to stop yourself. When you did, you saw Soap’s head peek around the back of his seat. Then, a gloved, skeletal hand yanked him back around to face the front. If you didn’t die from the XLR8, you’d die from embarrassment afterward, that was certain. 
“It’s okay, bird. It’s not your fault. They know that,” he tried to reassure you, but you hid your face in his neck anyway, unable to stop your wanton writhing, soaking his fingers until they slid against you unimpeded. 
You felt your hands reach for his belt, digging under his vest and all of his equipment straps. You wanted to spear your body onto his thick cock. You were sure that it would cure you. The fever made you feel too cold and too hot all at the same time. You shivered in his arms, but your brow was dotted with beads of sweat. 
He caught your wrist to stop you,
“Just a little while longer, love. Shh, shh, shh. I know…”
You sobbed into his shoulder, ashamed and needy, too weak to fight his grip. 
“Hey, look at me,” you obeyed, and he rubbed your cheek, “I’ll take care of you. Don’t worry.”
You shuddered, cresting over a brief, sharp orgasm, coming on him as quietly as you could, biting your cheek so you wouldn’t cry out. For a few seconds, you experienced some sort of relief, but then it was gone, and the overwhelming internal fire raged in your belly once more.
The chopper pitched, landing on the pad at your base, and everyone cleared out of the hull except for Laswell. She looked down at you, pity in her eyes, and then turned to him with concern,
“I’ll send a few supplies to your room. The medic wants to run some tests. How long is this supposed to last?”
John shrugged, petting the sweaty hair out of your face, tucking you in close to him in his arms,
“Not sure. Just trying to get her through it. Take her datapad. It’s got her notes from the lab.”
Laswell took it and stepped down from the chopper, jogging off to the med bay. 
“C’mon, love. Let me help you take that fever away, hm?”
You nodded, feeling dizzy and dehydrated, letting him carry you from the helicopter. It seemed like the tight coil in your belly was getting more and more tense by the moment. Your orgasm had been too weak, and it was almost like you hadn’t quite completed the event. You were just stuck in between coming and not coming, waiting for someone to put you out of your misery. What you thought had been relief was really just a prelude to the main event. It was torture. 
As you lay your head on his chest, you could smell his aftershave as it mixed with his skin, a comfortingly warm scent with woodsy spices and the faint hint of tobacco from his favorite cigars. You wanted more of it, so you turned your nose into him, running your hands across the belt of his pants, trying to pry your way in..
When he arrived in the barracks, he kicked open the door to a dark room. It smelled just like him. You realized then that you were in his quarters. He lay you on his bed and set to taking off your gear. Your boots and socks slid off, and he unclipped your vest. Then, you felt his fingers on your neck, carefully inspecting your wounds. 
“Birdie…” He shook his head, obviously regretful for what you were going through. 
You whimpered, looking up at him as you moved your hand down your own pants, rubbing yourself in front of him out of a desperate need, 
“John, I don’t know how to ask you this.”
“You don’t have to. Medic’s gonna check you out, and I’ll give you whatever you want, little bird. I promise.”
“I need you, now. I don’t… I can’t… mmmngh...”
“Captain?” A woman’s voice floated into the room from the doorway. Price cracked the door and when he saw it was the medic, he let her in. 
She knelt by the bed, and took your hand,
“Hey, Sparrow. I’m just going to check your vitals, okay?”
You nodded, trying not to stare down the dark opening of her lab coat. Her voice was so sweet, and her breasts looked full and soft. Her olive skin would probably feel so warm on your lips. Before you could stop yourself, you had your hand behind her head, kissing her neck, trying your best to unbutton her blouse.
“Easy! Easy does it,” John sat himself down behind you on the bed, positioning you between his legs, and held you back, keeping you from accosting the medic. 
“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry. I… oh, my God…” You writhed, trying to fight the demonic need building inside of you.
“That’s okay,” she said, “They warned me. We’re going to get you some help… Let me take your temp… Goddamnit. She’s burning up. I’m going to give her a light sedative and something to try and cut her fever, but…”
She stopped speaking, looking up at the captain, trying to be delicate, 
“You probably need to… um… begin. The sooner the better. I’ll leave these with you,” she dropped two blue pressed pills into his hand, “Just in case you, uh, need a boost.”
Price recognized the sexual enhancement drugs and put them on his side table. He waited patiently for the medic to take a small vial of your blood. He thanked her, trying not to sound like he was in a rush (even though he was), and eventually she shut the door, leaving you two in each others’ care.
John stayed where he was, but he softened his grip, kissing your neck. He reached down and unbuttoned your pants, giving your hand room to move. You rubbed your folds faster, making tight little circles around your clit, struggling to come. 
“Nnngh… fuck. Fuck, I can’t do it. I’m so close, but…” You whined, gritting your teeth and struggling against the XLR8. It was making you woozy, and you couldn’t keep your strength up in order to get yourself over the edge. 
“Show me,” he whispered, staring down at your furious masturbation, watching your hand as it worked, “Show me how you like it, little bird. Teach me.”
Your heart raced, equal parts excited and embarrassed to show him something so personal and intimate, but you did as you were told, letting him see how your fingers worked your flesh. He sighed, and you felt his cock shift against the small of your back. 
He took over for you, sliding his hand down below yours, mimicking your movements, and getting very close to perfection. 
“That’s it!” You hissed, keening for him, “That’s… oh, fuck, that’s so good. Don’t stop. Please, don’t —”
Your orgasm was almost immediate. Your body locked up, every muscle squeezing you until you were frozen, rigidly convulsing as you came on his hand. Your mouth hung open in a breathless, silent scream. Then, to your horror, you felt the heavy stain of some sort of fluid soaking through your pants. At first, you thought you’d wet yourself, but then when John pulled his hand away to inspect your emission, you saw the sticky, gooey consistency shining on his fingers. 
“What… I don’t understand. What is that?”
“It looks like your come, yeah? Quite a lot of it…” He observed. Price brought it to his nose and mouth to smell it. Then, he licked his fingers tentatively, and his eyes rolled back into his head, “Mmm. Fuck. It’s sweet.”
He lifted you so easily, it was as if you weighed nothing. Propping you up on his pillows, he helped you out of your pants and boots, stripping you down. When Price saw you, dripping and pink, splayed in front of him like a gleaming prize, he stalled. Then, he looked up at you, eyes wide with glorious wonder,
“Little bird…”
“John,” you gasped, “Please.”
He didn’t waste any more time. In a flash, your thighs were hitched up toward your chest as he shoved them back, giving his mouth access to its warm, wet reward. 
The first long lick was like its own kind of drug. Your whole body sang like a bell, trembling and ringing out for him and his soft tongue. He licked you again and pulled away, confused but pleasantly so,
“Fuck, love. You taste like strawberries. That’s… fuck.”
You lost track of time as he devoured you. His whole face was shining with your stickiness, and he couldn’t get enough of it. He was gasping for air, practically drowning himself, rubbing his chin and nose through your folds as he tried to writhe his tongue deeper into your core, fucking you with it to draw out more of your slickness. 
The sounds you were making seemed almost inhuman. You were convinced you had never had a true orgasm before if this is what they were supposed to feel like. Every lap of his tongue felt like its own crescendo. You were putty in his hands, figuratively and literally judging by the dampness beneath you. 
Eventually, he made his way back up your body, peeling away your shirt and bra, rustling out of his own clothes as quickly as he could, his muscular arms getting trapped in his jacket, stretching and pulling against his heavy bones for freedom.
“You alright, little bird?” He asked you softly, crawling over you and settling himself between your shivering thighs. 
You nodded,
“Yeah, that was so amazing, John. I know its selfish, but I need more. Can… can you fuck me? Please? I’m clean, I have an IUD. Please? I won’t —”
“Shh. Hush, love. I’m not leavin’ this room ‘til I’ve cured you, one way or another. C’mere.”
He pulled you to him, kissing you, covered in your come. You tasted yourself on his lips, and he was right: it was exactly like strawberries. It must have been the stimulant, you thought. Something to… entice… 
Your mind went blank as John began to feed his fat cockhead into your hole. All of the pain and the heat from the fever disappeared, and you were normal again. Well, a very horny normal, but at least you felt some relief. 
“Oh, my God!” You cried, “That’s it. That’s what I needed. Oh…”
“Yeah?” Price narrowed his eyes, studying your face, watching your reactions with rapt attention. Where you were stabilizing, he was falling apart at the seams. 
His whole body shuddered as he slid himself into you. It was shallow at first; he was too thick to fit inside of your tight pussy, no matter how wet you were. But, as he lubed himself up in your body, he squeezed deeper and deeper inside, eventually drilling down right to his base, slamming his hips into yours like a hungry machine. 
Your screams echoed in his small room, and the metal bed creaked under his enormous weight. You could feel his power through his thrusts. He was so incredibly strong, and his muscles bent and twisted just to serve your pleasure. It was hypnotizing to watch. You were focused on the straining sinew in his immense neck when another orgasm threatened to bubble over inside of you. 
It was too soon. You’d barely recovered from the first one, and as he felt your body start to contract around his shaft, he began to moan right along with you. 
“That’s it, Birdie, let it out. C’mon. Come for me… That’s it. That’s… ungh!” He coached you, talking you through it, fighting his own pleasure like the dragon it was, the heat of his breathing furling in hot bursts down your neck. 
His eyes were wrenched shut, but between his long, aching thrusts, he rambled, spilling out his words instead of himself inside of you like he wanted to. 
“Spar… don’t you know how badly I’ve wanted this?”
Your pussy was being pounded so hard you could feel your pulse slamming against your skin.
“...I’ve wanted you… wanted to feel you…”
His face was near yours, close enough that you could still smell your sweet slick on his beard. 
“...it’s so good. I never want it to stop. Feels like heaven…”
When he wasn’t speaking in that hoarse, smoldering timbre, you could see his jaw working against itself, fighting the inevitable. 
“...so damn responsive to me. Such a good girl…”
Then, his tone turned dark, burning into your face as he spoke against your cheek through gritted teeth, 
“You want more, hm?”
“Yeah…” You whispered, your voice sounding so small. 
“Harder? You want it harder, don’t you, little bird? I can tell.”
You nodded, whispering your pleading to him in wordless gasps. He smiled. You could feel it against your skin,
“Bloody hell. Bloody fuckin’ hell,” he lamented, rising up above you, wrenching his fingers around your waist, the gentleness gone from his touch, “Fuck, Birdie. You’ll make me come. You… ah!”
He brought you with him as he tumbled over the edge. You felt like you’d been hit with a flashbang. You couldn’t hear, and your vision went white. When you begged your lungs to breathe, you couldn’t take in the air. All you could feel — the only thing your body would allow you to feel — was each silky throb of his cock as it pumped his come inside of you. You could feel it as it burst from him, and then as it melted down your walls, flowing across his fleshy head. It was lava-hot, and you knew nothing except that you needed more. 
Price collapsed on top of you, his heavy, furry body sweaty and panting, gasping for air himself. He seemed spent, but you weren’t done. 
You flipped him, planting him on his back, enjoying the shocked look on his face, his eyes wide and uncertain. He couldn’t speak; there wasn’t enough time. But, as you began to rock back and forth on his softening rod, he cried out with something between pain and bliss. 
“Oh, fuck, love… wait! I’m… oh, shite…” 
“I’m… so sorry, John. I can’t stop…” You ground your swollen pussy down to his base, fucking him raw and wild, feeling his come slipping out of you in foamy smears. 
He nodded, hiding his eyes behind his palm, struggling to get his breathing under control,
“It’s alright, Birdie. It’s alright. Take what you need.”
As you rode him, he fully softened in you, and you cried out, trying everything you could to bring him back. Then, you watched as he fumbled across the end table, reaching for the blue pills the medic had left behind. He took one, and stared up at you,
“I’m sorry, love. C’mere.”
He grabbed your thighs, and with very little struggle, situated you across his face, grabbing your hips and pulling you down onto him, forcing you to put your weight on his jaw. He began to eat you out, licking long circles around your messy hole at first, and then he thrust his long tongue inside of you, rubbing his nose deep within your wet folds. 
You screamed for him then, trying to battle your insecurities and failing. It was overwhelming. The pleasure just built and built inside of you, mounting up and then… nothing. It remained there at its peak, a tightened coil, ready to bust. 
“John! John, I can’t… Help me, please.”
With all of his strength, he lifted you off of him, shoving you on all fours, situating himself behind you. 
All of his movements were rabid and unwieldy. He was struggling, trying to overcome his soporific pleasure to accommodate you. Hungry for you even though he’d recently been sated. 
Your chaos quieted for a moment when you felt his fingers prying your lips apart between your legs, slipping into you like a cork, sinking down to his knuckles into a perfect fit. 
“Oh, Sparrow. So fuckin’ soft. So sweet.” 
As he praised you, he ate you, pulling out more and more of your stickiness onto his hand, lapping you up with his tongue. You were coming unwound, and it felt amazing. It was as if he was pulling pulsing orgasms from your body on a long silk ribbon, one after the other, soft and slick, neverending. 
Then, finally, you felt his head tapping its way into your wet hole once more. Fucking you from behind seemed to be your commander’s preference. It was either that or he had become beyond overstimulated. His noises were a cross between whimpers and growls. He kissed his way up your back, sinking his sharp teeth into your neck and shoulder, grunting like an animal as he buried himself into you. 
“You’re so big. I feel so full,” you whispered to him, glancing over your shoulder as he knelt over you like a feral hound, bucking into you shamelessly. 
“Feels good, little bird? ‘M not hurtin’ you, am I?” 
“No, John. You’re perfect,” you found his jaw as he kissed your neck, nuzzling his face with your own, rubbing against him like a cat. 
“Gonna come for me, love? Squeezin’ the fuck out of my cock.”
“I can’t help it,” you cried, feeling hot tears run down your cheeks. You were so overwhelmed, your body was processing every sensation, fraying your nerves. He wiped your temple with his hand, 
“I know, Sparrow. I know. Let it out, love. C’mon. I can take it.”
“Nghah!” You screamed, trying to relax into the blinding pleasure, feeling your legs start to tremble from it.
“Mmm,” Price groaned deeply, sitting back on his knees as he felt you spill over the edge. Your sticky come coated his cock and the dense hair at his base, matting the dark fur, “Tha’s it, baby. Fuck, so wet.”
You sobbed through the orgasm as it wrecked your body. John gathered you up in his arms, taking the sheet with him, clutching you to his chest messily, still humping himself into you as gently as he could, but unable to quell his own lurid desire. 
“Lay down, Birdie,” your captain whispered, pulling the sheet away and pushing you prone into his mattress, “Try to breathe for me. Tha’s it.”
You tried to do as he commanded. You wanted to be good for him, but your breath kept hitching in your throat. You needed more, and you didn’t know how to get it. You writhed below him, feeling his cock slipping in and out of you, the wetness from your body pooling beneath you. 
“John, I’m still so hot. Feels like I’m losing my mind,” you looked at him over your shoulder, and you had to admit he didn’t look much better. He was spent, fucking you on auto-pilot at this point, letting nature take its own path. He was nothing more than base instincts at this point, and you could tell he was having trouble keeping himself tied down. 
He wanted to come again, you could feel it in how rigid his cock had become, helped by the pills. Something inside of you wanted to force his come from him, to make him explode in you again, filling you up. So, you pushed your hips back, arching your spine to allow more of his cock inside of your pussy, teasing him with your swollen hole. 
“Oh, fuck. Sparrow… don’t…”
“Does it feel good, John?” You asked, not following his orders for once, “Do I… make you feel good?”
“Holy fuck,” he spat, his voice dark and animalistic, unable to tear his eyes from where your bodies were joined together.  
You twisted your hips back and forth, effectively jerking him off with your drooling sheath, listening to his deep whining as you tormented him, pushing him to the brink but not fucking him fast enough to toss him over. 
“Little bird… Please…” John whimpered, overstimulated and eager to come.
“Tell me,” you teased him, not recognizing your own voice, “Tell me how you like it.”
“I fuckin’ love it. Just like that, Birdie. So damn good. Keep movin’ your hips like that, pretty girl. Gonna make me come again.”
You could feel his eyes watching you fuck him. He used his hands to pull your ass cheeks apart, giving him a bird’s eye view of both of your holes. You could feel the cool air rush across them, exciting you and making you shiver from the sensation. 
“So damn pretty,” Price crooned, whispering almost to himself, petting your stretched skin with his thumbs, smearing your wetness all over you.
You felt him grab your hair, right at the nape of your neck, forcing your back to arch, pulling you up to him, 
“You want me to come in you, little bird? You want my fuckin’ come? Hm? Tell me!”
“Nghh… Yes,” you hissed. His grip was so restricting, and you felt the air try to escape your throat, “Come. In. Me.”
“Sparrow!” Price shouted, releasing your hair to hold you across your belly, wrapping your body in his arms, ramming himself into you as deeply as he could, letting his cock spill into you once again. 
You were full of him. John was everywhere. He was wet and dripping within you, and as he fell to the bed with you, his body covered yours fully, wrapping you beneath him. You shifted a bit, convincing him to roll onto his side, kissing his neck and face, whispering sweet nothings to him as he caught his breath. 
“So good, John… You are so good to me,” you let your lips sink into his warm, panting mouth, letting your lips slide together. 
“Mmm,” he sighed, “Still hard. The medic was right about those pills.”
“I’m so sorry,” you straddled him again, humping against his still-rigid shaft, “I still need you, John. Please?”
“Sure, little bird. Ah! Oh, fuck, I’m sensitive. Easy… Ngh!”
“I’ll go slow,” you leaned forward to kiss him, capturing his long moan in your mouth. 
Suddenly, there was a quick knock at the door and then a slit of light as it creaked open. A skeletal gloved hand reached in with a stuffed bag and dropped it just inside the room before shutting it tightly again. 
Price removed you gently, watching you pout, and he explained,
“Laswell’s care package.”
“Come back, John,” you pulled his hand toward you as he opened the bag with the other.
He started laughing, letting you guide his cock back into you while he was standing at the edge of the bed. You watched as he pulled a couple of water bottles out of the bag and set them on the end table, still chuckling to himself. 
“Hey,” you pet your fingers through the hair on his belly as you writhed against him, “What’s funny?”
“Strawberries,” he smiled as he pulled a small box of the fruit from the bag, his eyes twinkling in the low light, “You want one, little bird?”
You nodded, but then felt the sudden emptiness of him removing his cock from you again. Then, with a devilish grin, you watched him dip the tip of the bright red fruit into your pussy, twirling it around in your juices, coating it with your thick stickiness, and then sucking it into his mouth, eating half of it and letting it drip down his chin. 
He brought it to your mouth, at the same time thrusting himself all the way inside of you, making you gasp,
“Open wide, love.”
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twinsarekeepers · 4 months
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“This isn’t the Arch, seaweed brain. You’re not pushing me into the stairwell again.”
First of all, LINE DELIVERY?? Leah Sava Jeffries is an ACTRESS because ‘seaweed brain’ is actually so corny and it would simply feel like fan-service if they included it earlier or in another context but this was so natural and I was so swept up by all the other amazing things happening that I was excited about it but also keyed into the rest of the scene.
But the way this perfectly displays her fatal flaw. She will not let this boy trick her again (spoiler: he does). She was caught off guard at the Arch because she wasn’t familiar with his game but now she’s ready. She WILL die for him and that is final.
“Yes, I am.”
This was CRAZY?? Percy Jackson #1 mentally unstable man because how is he determined to win every ‘sacrifice myself’ off with her? And he says it to her face too. He does not care for the games anymore, he’s fully telling her that he needs her to live.
“I’m not going to let you this time. It doesn’t work that way!”
This made me so incredibly sad. Annabeth is still thinking in transactions. She’s thinking about how he made a sacrifice in the Arch so it’s her turn now. This is how relationships work. This is how every relationship she’s had works. She literally can’t comprehend how he doesn’t see it that way. How he could be selfless enough to sacrifice himself for her TWICE. How he could care about her enough to believe she deserves it even after she was the reason they were in the Arch in the first place (my baby my baby say it with me now you’re my baby).
“It’s why you’re here!”
“Excuse me?”
This was so soft like I just *screaming crying gif*. The last time she said ‘excuse me’ to him she was pissed off about him bringing up Athena but now she’s just confused and sad. Like, she trying to figure out what he means by this. Does he think she’s so heartless and robotic that she’d just let him die for her own gain?
I also love how they don’t have her say ‘what?’ because it just adds this extra layer of how Annabeth has trained herself to be more mature in everything she does, even her language, because she believes that if she’s not perfect, she’s not worthy of love and affection and maybe even existing (literally sobbing wtf).
“When I was choosing my team, I told Chiron I needed someone who wouldn’t hesitate to sacrifice me if the quest required it. He agreed. That was you.”
I was confused at first about this because I thought Annabeth knew Percy thought this about her until I went back and watched the choosing ceremony again. He’s definitely keeping his voice lower as he speaks to Chiron and both Chiron and him are raising their voice as they address the other campers so makes sense that she wouldn’t have heard him.
But also, this just adds so much to literally everything. Because, in the beginning, Percy didn’t think him and Annabeth would become friends. He genuinely did think that she would sacrifice him if she had to and he thought he’d be able to curb it. He thought he’d be able to fight Annabeth if it came to it because she might choose the quest over his mom and he couldn’t allow that.
But now here he is, after getting to know her, and seeing her vulnerability and bravery and strength and courage and wisdom and passion and everything that makes her so beautiful and wonderful and amazing and his friend. She’s his friend and she’d never betray him. She’d never sacrifice him. She’d rather sacrifice herself before she ever did anything to harm him.
And he’s apologizing to her. Listen to the way Walker says the last line (again, THE ACTING). It’s literally a confession because he feels so bad that he ever believed that about her. And now he’s making her do it. He’s making her do this thing that he once thought she’d have done without hesitation. He’s thinking about the Fates cutting that string and he’s thinking about his own words to Chiron and how Chiron agreed and he’s thinking about how Annabeth said that prophecies aren’t always clear and he fully believes that he’s figured it out. This is fate. Annabeth would sacrifice him and complete the prophecy. She’ll be the friend that betrays him but not because she wanted to and he will fail to save what matters most, his own life.
This entire exchange was very insane. It’s my Roman Empire. I can’t stop thinking about it because it shows their motivations and their viewpoints and their internal struggles so so so well like I can’t even … I’m having a malfunction.
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tasteleeknow · 4 months
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LIVING IN THE RUINS
minho x fem!reader. 2k words. minors dni. best friends to lovers. soft!minho. angst. fluff. jealousy. emotional hurt/comfort. smut with feelings, in a tent.
“Excuse me?”
You blink at the stranger in front of you. She seems to materialise before your eyes. You’d zoned out again and missed the attention your best friend had clearly been receiving from strangers in the crowded room. “I was wondering if I could get your number?” she asks, eyes fixed on Minho’s. She blinks quickly a few times, her long dark lashes fluttering much like your heart in your chest. 
She hasn’t looked at you once despite your close proximity. You’re so close to the object of her attention in fact, your thigh brushes against Minho’s jeans under the table. 
He shifts beside you, sitting up straighter in the booth. “Oh,” he says, clearly taken off guard as well. “Thank you. I mean that’s — I don’t—” 
“Do you have a girlfriend?” she asks with a small tilt of her head. 
“No,” Minho answers quickly, incapable of lying. His discomfort radiates off him. You’d spent years learning his emotional tells. “I mean—” 
“He’s not into women,” you interrupt, finally drawing her attention to you. She blinks before her eyes drop down to your chest and back to your eyes, like she’s completely taken aback by your presence. It’s impossible, you know that logically. Still, she puts on a good performance. “Sorry,” you add. 
Her lips curve into an unconvincing smile. “No worries,” she says. “The hot ones never are.” 
The whole exchange is as short as it is ordinary. How many tipsy girls work up the courage to ask the pretty man across the bar for his number? You would bet money on it happening multiple times over somewhere across the planet at any given moment. It’s normal. Mundane. Still, you know it’ll chip a little more of your carefully built wall away. A chisel to stone, slow and steady. The only problem is that it’s been chipped at for years. You can feel the fragility of it these days, each chisel etch feels alot like when you’re down to the end of a game of jenga. 
Any move now will cause it to crash and fall. 
She hadn’t considered for a moment you might have been together — not when she’d spotted him across the room, clearly with you — and not when she’d gotten close and blatantly ignored your comfortable proximity to each other. Her question about his relationship status had been an afterthought, a possibility she hadn’t considered until faced with a response other than ‘yes’. She’d been expecting a yes.
The thought that he might be with you, might be attracted to you, was unconsidered. You wonder if she’d discussed it with her friends. ‘No,’ they might have said. ‘There’s no way he’s with her.’
Minho is quiet as the petite brunette turns on her heels and disappears back into the mass of people. His red ears give his embarrassment away. 
You nudge his shoulder, rocking him out of his trance. “Hey,” you prod. “Alright?” 
The smile he offers you is a little lopsided — very Minho. “Always,” he says. 
Your annual camping trip is just like the year before. Your small group of friends sets up camp in your usual spot. Everyone climbs into their usual tents. Everyone assumes you and Minho will be sharing, as always. 
You’re not sure why it hurts so much. They assume that nothing would ever happen between you. None of the other girls share a tent with a guy they aren’t dating. You’re the exception. Because Minho would never want you. 
He notices your low mood later that night. The group separates in the dark to play flashlight tag and as you find yourself wandering a secluded patch of the campsite, you know he knows. His attention is on you instead of where he’s walking. You almost scream when he falls into apparent nothingness. 
“I’m fine,” he quickly reassures you, pulling himself up from the ground. “Just dropped my glasses.” 
“God, you scared me.” 
It takes you both at least ten minutes to find them, relying purely on touch alone. It's too dark to see much at all without a light and using your phones would give your position away. 
You’re grateful for the darkness when you reach up and place his frames gently on his face. It hides the heat in your cheeks when you brush chocolate brown hair behind his ears, ensuring you’ve placed them properly. 
“Thank you,” he whispers, close enough that his breath warms your lips. 
You’re also grateful just to be near him, you realise. Just to know him. You love him. 
You love him. 
It’s an earth shattering realisation to have while playing flashlight tag in the middle of nowhere. You need to escape. You can’t. You’re sharing a tent with him. 
The situation isn’t helped when later in the night one of the girls with big bright eyes and a gentle smile makes a very clear move on him. You were used to it. People loved him. 
You loved him. 
It’s a stupid thing to cause the wall to finally crumble. It’s humiliating really. But when he laughs at something she whispers in his ear: it happens. 
It falls. 
You’re pathetic without it. 
All you can do is hide from him, escape to the tent and pretend to be so tired you’ve fallen asleep before he can investigate. It’s not something you do. Not with Minho. He knows you so well hiding from him is just as stupid as it is pathetic. He’ll know. 
Still, you can pretend. He won’t know as long as you’re unconscious. You can put it off until morning. 
It takes a long time for him to fall asleep. You lie there staring at the canvas of the tent for what feels like hours, the sounds of him tossing and turning continuing for so long you almost give up. 
But then he’s still. His breathing seems to even out. He’s asleep. 
That’s when you let yourself cry. Quietly at first; silent aching sobs. 
What a time for the wall to crumble. You wonder if you have the energy to rebuild. You’ll have to find it. The alternative is letting Minho go entirely, removing him from your life and letting the ruins erode away over a long, long time. 
Not an option. 
“Hey,” Minho’s soft voice calls. Shit. You wipe clumsily at your eyes and sodden cheeks. “Hey, what’s going on? What happened?” he questions as his palm rests gently against your shoulder. 
You should face him. You can’t hide. You know it. 
“No-thing,” you whimper, breath catching between each syllable. It’s that awful breathless kind of sobbing, the type that leaves you unable to inhale fully, let alone speak. 
He rolls you over onto your back. He isn’t rough — but it’s with enough strength you’re completely unable to resist him. 
“What is it?” he says again, tone much more forceful now. He isn’t letting it go. He looks down at you with wide eyes, like he’d never been asleep at all. 
You shake your head. 
His gentle thumbs move to your cheeks to attempt to wipe away the mess you’d left behind. He rests on one arm, leaning over you so he can give each cheek the same treatment. It’s a curious instinct, to wipe away someone's tears — like it has any effect on the person’s pain at all. It’s the best we can often do, you suppose. 
“Just focus on breathing,” he says. “Just breathe.” His hand stays against your cheek, fingers resting on your neck by your ear — featherlight. 
Breathing is easy, in theory. Breathing. Breathing. Breathing. His lips part to join you, guide you. His lips are still a little red from his bedtime routine, his tinted vaseline usually lasting him the entire night. 
“That’s it,” he soothes when you finally manage a few steady breaths in a row. “That’s good. You’re okay.” 
They’re simple words of comfort. The kind of thing anyone would say to a person in distress, but they settle something in your chest. You were okay. He was yours in a way that was more than nothing. He cared in a way that felt so genuine it was hard to be dissatisfied with the nature of it at all. 
“Did something happen today?” he asks, still leaning over you. It’s a vulnerable position to be in. It mirrors how you know this conversation will go. Your wall is a crumbled mess. You have no defences against him. 
“Not really.” 
His eyebrows pull together. 
“Nothing worth this,” you clarify. 
“Tell me.” 
“It’s not… It’s embarrassing.” 
His lips curve in a tiny lopsided smile, just a hint of amusement. “Friends are for sharing embarrassing things with. And I’m your friend,” he says. “Aren’t I?” 
You blink quickly a few times, desperate to keep your tears at bay. Then you nod weakly. 
“Why do you look so miserable about it?” he says, tone light and teasing. 
Your lips wobble a little as you struggle with the words attempting to burst forth. They pound and burn and demand to be set free. You lose the battle. “I love you.” 
He blinks, eyes flicking across your face. 
The gates are open now. You’re turned loose. “I love you so much,” you sob. “It hurts. It hurts everyday and it just keeps getting worse and I can’t—” 
His lips cut you off, a warm, heart-stopping, and very much welcome interruption. He’s kissing you. He’s—
“Stop,” he mumbles against your wet, salty lips. “Stop hurting. Please.” His next kiss is unbearably soft, a brush against your upper lip. “Please,” he whispers. 
You nod dumbly.
He rewards you with a collection of gentle kisses across your cheeks, replacing the remnants of your tears with the sticky wetness of his moisturised lips. You imagine the slight red marks he must leave behind. 
He settles over you properly at some point. You’re too distracted by the path of his lips to notice exactly when. But then his arms are by your head, caging you under him in a way that makes you hope for the universe to halt all progression forward. This was enough; everything. 
“I love you,” he whispers against your lips finally. “I’m… sorry for letting you think I don’t. I’m a coward.” 
“No,” you chastise quickly as you tangle your fingers in his hair. “Don’t say shit like that.” 
“I—” 
“It hurts me… and you told me to stop hurting.” 
His head drops to your neck… then, with a soft press of his lips to your skin, “Then I’ll never do it again.” 
Every move he makes is gentle when the slow, indulgent kisses turn into exploring hands and whispered pleas for more. Each of his whisper-soft words of affection sweeps away a crumbled section of your wall, clearing the space to build something entirely new. He’s warm, so warm as his bare torso rests on yours — as he finally presses inside you and sucks a mark into your neck to join the rest he’s left. “Doesn’t hurt?” he asks, stilling as he fills you completely. 
“No,” you gasp. “No, you’re… it’s—” His lips take the words from your mouth, a little messier than he’s been before. When his hips roll into yours you can’t help grasping at him like he might suddenly get up and leave — fingers tangling in his hair desperately.
“I got you,” he mumbles against your lips, heavy breaths mingling with your own. “I got you…” 
When he eventually spills inside you, flooding you with more of his warmth, you’re crying again. But this time it doesn’t hurt; this time it’s a release. The tears that he kisses from your face afterwards — they wash away the rest of the rubble.
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spencereidluver · 5 months
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D is for Diana
summary: you overhear spencer calling his mother and telling her about you. how hes finally found someone like him and who can understand him
word count: 675
warnings: none, just fluff and spencer crushing
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It was a normal Monday morning. The sounds of files rustling and pens against paper filled the room as people filled out their weekly paperwork. The only thing off was the slow speed the certified genius across from you was working. There was something on his mind, but from the look on his face, you could tell he wasn’t in the mood to share.
“Hey Spence, I’m gonna go make some coffee in a little bit, do you want some?” You asked, trying to find a way of cheering him up without trying to pry at him. 
“I’m good, thank you though.” He said without so much as looking up from his desk.
You let him work for a little longer, before you finally let it get the best of you, and you just had to ask him. “Okay, Spencer,” you said, finally getting him to look up at you for the first time this morning. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” he responded. “I’m just waiting on a phone call from my mom.”
That made sense. Spencer always got nervous when his mother was brought up. His phone rang moments later, seemingly right on cue. “I’m gonna take this in the conference room, I’ll be back.” 
Spencer opened his phone as he stood up, greeting his mother with a warm “hello.” He quickly ran up the stairs, nearly hitting himself with the conference room door as he entered. You giggled to yourself before getting up and making your way to the kitchen to make the coffee you’d thought about earlier.
_____
With a freshly made cup of coffee in your hand, you couldn’t help but follow your unconscious lead to the conference room, leaning against the door to make sure Spencer’s conversation with his mom was going well. You weren’t trying to be weird or creepy, you just were trying to look out for your friend. You knew sometimes his mom said things that hurt him, mostly without realizing it.
As you reached the conference, you heard the squeaky giggle you’ve heard so many times come from behind the door. You almost left it at that, but curiosity got the best of you as you leaned your ear against the wooden door.
“No, mom. She’s perfect,” you heard Spencer say. “Everything about her is perfect.”
There was a pause, Diana was talking. You wondered who he was talking about. Spencer hadn’t talked to you about a special lady before. Maybe you’d stick around a little longer.
Spencer began to speak again. “No, she is the nicest person I’ve ever met. She’s gorgeous too, mom… No, I haven't asked her out… No, no she doesn’t have a boyfriend… I just don’t want to ruin our friendship. And I don’t want to make work awkward if she says no.”
Work? The girl he liked was at work? 
“I can’t just ignore her if she says no mom. Our desks are right across from each other. I’d have to face her every day.”
Oh my god. He was talking about you. Your face turned a shade of red so dark it might be classified as maroon. Your stomach had so many butterflies it felt like it was migration season. 
You heard Spencer begin to tell his mom he’d have to be going soon, and you decided you’d better hurry back to your desk so he didn’t know you were listening. He’d die if he knew, you thought.
You thought for a second, before returning to the kitchen and pouring another cup of coffee in Spencer’s favorite mug. You knew he’d said no, but you also knew, especially now, how much it’d mean to him if he came back to a warm cup of coffee on his desk. You add 5 sugar packets to the small mug, just how he liked it. 
You returned to your desk, sitting your mug on your desk and Spencer’s on his. You grabbed a sticky note and a pen and wrote: "For Spence <3,”before sticking it to the mug and returning to your seat.
next chapter: E is for Even Guys Like Me?
a/n: i'm so glad that this group of stories has been so well received :) i've worked so hard on them, and am trying my best to get ahead so i can release new parts at least every other day. i love reading all the comments you guys have left too... thank you all for the support. i'm so proud of the next chapter, it's definantly my favorite one in the series so far. it's pretty long, but in my own opinion, it's worth it. the chapters are going to start getting more relationship centered, starting next chapter!
taglist: @universallyblizzardlove @ms-ks-world @justlivinginadaydream @dij-ology
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wintfleur · 6 months
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Hey gal, I hope you had a good Monday! I saw your requests were open and I’m so in the mood for some super soft Lando like all he wants to do is cradle your head and cuddle you after you’ve both had long days. And when you wake in the morning, he brings you coffee and pulls the duvet round you tighter before he leaves for training 😭 thank you xxx
ꔫ all I want is my sweet lover
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°. — pairings ( lando norris x fem! reader )
°. — summary ( a sweet night and morning with the sweetest boyfriend to ever exist )
°. — details ( g; pure fluff. w; kissing and just lando being the fucking cutest. wc; 2k )
˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( omg ahhh my first request! I absolutely love you and your mind, I had so much fun writing this. Lando had me kicking and giggling while I wrote this. I of course had to add my comfort movie tangled into this since I was watching it while writing. I hope you enjoy this!! xoxo but also omg?! I never write this fast, this might be my favorite thing I’ve written )
“And at last, I see the light” you quietly sing along to your comfort movie that was playing on the tv in your room. You had gotten home from work a few hours ago and you were absolutely worn out from your long day at work, it was just a bad day, nothing seemed to go right for you. So, when you walked through you and your boyfriend's apartment, you ate some dinner then quickly showered and got in bed. 
You were very much tired and could happily fall asleep, but you missed your boyfriend so you forced yourself to stay up, watching a movie that you knew would keep you distracted. And it definitely did distract you, you were so caught up in the movie that you didn't notice or hear your boyfriend come home. Lando leaned against the door frame with a big smile on his face as he watched you sing along to one of your favorite movies. 
You looked so pretty, all curled up in your shared big bed. He could see the familiar sight of his hoodie that you were wearing, peeking out from under the duvet. He never understood why you slept in long sleeves, both of you knowing that she would take it off in her sleep; most likely accidentally hitting him while doing so. 
You quickly turn your head to the door when you hear the familiar sound of your boyfriend's giggle. You almost jump out of your skin when you see your boyfriend standing there, you never heard him come in, you hope he wasn't there long enough to see you recite the dialogue. You rested your hand on your hoodie covered chest and gasped out loud “Lando! You scared me!” 
“I’m sorry love, I just couldn't help it. You're just too adorable” Lando said between his laughter, pushing up from leaning against the door frame and walking over to sit at the edge of the bed, by your side. You stop lying on your side and roll to lay on your back so you could face him better, Lando smiles and tucks the duvet under your chin so he could see your pretty face. “That's better” 
“You look exhausted baby” you frown when you see how tired your boyfriend truly looks, and it makes you even more sad knowing that he has to wake up early tomorrow for even more training. Lando always works and trains so hard, you wish he could get more rest. 
“I feel exhausted, but I'll feel better when I get you in my arms” Lando flirts, giving you a cheeky smile as he moves to lean down. He has thought about being in your arms all day. 
“No, no, no “ You refused as you gently pushed his chest back, stopping him from laying down on you. You just showered and you washed the linen yesterday, you were not going to let your stinky and sweaty boyfriend stink up your sheets. You give him a sweet smile and softly Boop his nose “Go shower first stinky then I’m all yours.” 
“All mine?” he mumbles with a pout, having to stop himself from smiling when he feels you Boop his nose. You were right he should shower, and it would make him feel better but being in your arms sounded so much better. 
“All yours” you promised softly, sitting up so you could be level with him. You lean forward and place your hand on Lando's shoulder, pulling him closer to you and locking your lips in a kiss. Your boyfriend lets out a hum of surprise, but he flutters his eyes closed and eagerly kisses you back. You feel your boyfriend slide his hand down your side and gently squeeze your waist wanting to deepen the kiss, but before he could you pull away and whisper with a small smirk “hurry back please.” 
You giggle when Lando mutters curse words under his breath, but nonetheless he listens to you and dramatically stops over to the bathroom. You purposely call him a good boy loudly, laughing loudly and laying back down when he turns his head to playfully glare at you. You turn your attention back to the movie, watching as Mother Gothel and Rapunzel start arguing and, in the background, you can faintly hear the sound of the shower turning on. 
It wasn't long until your smiley boyfriend was jumping in bed and clinging to your side, his arm wrapped around your waist and his face in your neck. You scrunch your nose in distaste when you feel Lando's damp hair tickle your neck, you pull back a little causing him to give you a confused pout, pulling you closer by your waist. You bring your hand up and gently move his damp curls away from his face, your boyfriend's eyes closing at your touch. “You're going to get sick if you go to bed with wet hair lovely.” 
“It's okay, I have you to keep me warm” Lando whispers sweetly, opening his eyes to look into your beautiful ones. You feel your lips curl into a grin at your boyfriend's cuteness, you just want to kiss his face off. Your boyfriend feels the same way when he sees your big smile, his favorite thing is to see you happy, but unlike you he doesn't stop himself from fulfilling his desires. 
Lando sits up a little, leaning back on the arm that wasn't wrapped around your waist. He leans down and quickly starts placing soft but wet kisses all over your face, starting with your nose then your cheeks, then moving up to your forehead before repeating. Dangerously kissing close to your lips, fighting the urge to take your lips in his. His heart fills with warmth at the sound of your giggles and pleads for him to stop, you were always so ticklish. 
You twist your body trying to flee from your boyfriend's relentless attack on your face and now neck, giggles sipping past your parted lips. You don't move far, Lando's hold on you was tight but not painful, he wasn't going to let you get out of his arms. 
“Oh, my baby you're so cute” he cooed as he stopped his attack, he watched as you panted, trying to catch your breath. ‘GAHH YOUR SO CUTE’ he screams in his mind as he looks down at his pretty girlfriend. Lando lays back down and pulls you to his body, basically cradling your head to his chest, his fingers tangling into your hair and softly scratching at your head; just how he knows you like it.  
You close your eyes, feeling yourself melt into his warmth and soft touch. You rest your arm on his midsection and tangle your legs with his, his body warmth spreading over you, making you even more tired. His warmth and head scratches, lulling you to sleep. Lando looks away from the tear-jerking scene that was on the tv and down at you. Your eyes were closed, and you had that cute pout on your lips you always seemed to have when you fall asleep.  
Lando softly kisses your forehead careful not to wake you up, he whispers as he looks down at the love of his life safe in his arms
“Sweet dreams pretty girl.” 
If there was one thing you hated more than your food touching, it was waking up alone. So, when you open your eyes and don't see your boyfriend by your side, a grumpy frown appears on your face. You let out a disappointed sigh and rolled over to Lando's side of the bed, believing that you didn't get to say goodbye before he left for morning training. The smell of your boyfriend coming from his pillow only makes your frown deepen, you missed him already, how are you going to survive all day without him? 
You were so caught up with your depressing thoughts you didn't hear the door of the room creak open. Already dressed and ready for his day, Lando was welcomed by the sight of your bare back as you laid on your stomach on his side of the bed. As expected, you took off the hoodie in your sleep. Lando has to remind himself at that moment that he has to go to training and that he can't join you in bed, he hates early mornings when he has to leave you. 
“Baby are you up?” Lando speaks up, loud enough so you could hear, but not loud enough to wake you up if you were sleeping. He sets your favorite mug filled with coffee on the bedside table, accompanied with a chocolate croissant that he got for you before he came home last night. 
“You're still here?!” You exclaim happily when you hear your boyfriend's voice behind you. You quickly sit up and turn around, holding the duvet up to cover your bare chest with one hand. Your frown turning to a big smile at the sight of your smiling boyfriend, also the smell of coffee and the sight of a croissant helped with your happiness as well. 
“Of course, I am, I can't leave without saying goodbye to my girl” Lando flirted as he sat on the edge of the bed, watching as you scooted closer to him. His favorite sight has always been you when you wake up, you always looked so cute with your messy hair and tired eyes. 
“Good because I can't survive the day without one of your kisses” your tone showing that you woke up a few minutes ago. Your words are true, your days always seemed worse if you didn't get a kiss or cuddle from your boyfriend. Okay…maybe you were a little needy and clingy, but to be fair so was Lando. That's why the two of you were the perfect couple. 
“Well i can't have that” Lando gasped dramatically, moving his hands up and cupping your face with his big and warm hands. A giggle escaping his lips at the sight of your squished cheeks, your lips puckering at the touch. Lando watches as your eyes flutter close, and he leans down, his eyes closing as well as he takes your lips in his in a loud and wet kiss that makes you giggle against his lips at the feeling. 
“Okay, okay one more” You pleaded after your fit of giggles, lifting your head up from his shoulder that you rested it on while laughing. Lando just looks at you with stars in his eyes, he loves seeing you so happy. He mentally took a picture of your smile so he could lock back at it all day. He would need that to survive the day. 
“Baby you're going to make me late” Lando whines but nonetheless he leans his body down to kiss you, slowly pushing you down on your back, his lips not leaving yours. You bring your hand up to his nape, your fingers tangling into his hair. Your lips moved against his following his lead as he led you through a breathless kiss. 
Even though every part of him was telling him to stay in bed with you, he slowly pulled away from the kiss and rested his forehead against yours. You both had your eyes closed as you panted from the breathtaking kiss. Lando opens his eyes and places a soft and loving kiss on your forehead before ruffling your hair and sitting back up. You opened your eyes when you felt his body leave yours, you watched as he brought the duvet up under your chin and tucked you in. 
“Stay warm,” Lando whispered, nodding his head as he tried to keep a stern look on his face. You smile and nod along, leaning your head back against the headboard. You playfully salute him before saying
“Stay safe handsome.” 
Lando smiles at your cuteness and places one more kiss on your forehead and mumbling the words ‘i love you’ before he sat up and made his way to the bedroom door. You watch him go with a frown before shouting “I love you more.” 
He looked back and sent you a wink before he fully walked out of your sight. ‘Fuck’ you thought. You already missed him. 
°. — taglist ( @iloveyou3000morgan @ophcelia )
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writingwithcolor · 4 months
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Black woman’s skin turns blue from powers; is this whitewashing/erasure?
Anonymous asked:
I have a character in a comic I'm hoping to write one day. She's a light skinned black woman(she's half white if that helps!) living in New York City during an 80s themed post nuclear apocalypse. The comic's main characters are all rock stars, so a lot of the character design elements revolve around the different rock genres. The character in question is in a glam rock band, so there's lots of bright, saturated, crazy colors involved in her design. The problem I'm having involves this one story beat where she gets mutant superpowers that give her electricity and sound based abilities. Her skin turns cotton candy blue as a result of the mutation. I'm hung up on whether or not this might fall under some kind of skin lightening or white-washing trope since it's a fairly light shade of blue. I designed her mutant look before her human look, so this was well before I'd even figured out what race she was, and I simply thought the shade of blue would compliment both the electricity powers and the fact that her hair is dyed pink. Is there a way I could still make this work? Or am I worrying about nothing?
Ideally, it would be nice to keep her brown skin tone. There’s a common comic and supernatural trend where Black people’s skin is covered up by a suit or Black-coded characters are an unnatural color (blue, green, purple, etc).
This is more of an issue when: 
There are no other Black characters of those identities besides the covered up/ ones with unnatural skin colors.
The creator adds this change to make them "special" because they do not believe Black characters, with features commonly associated with Black people like dark hair, skin and eyes, are acceptable enough for the character to stand on their own.
The supernatural special Black people are treated well by the story. The "non-special" Black people have unhappy stories and misfortune.
Other races of characters do not get their skin covered up or changed. Only the Black ones and/or BIPOC in general.
I think a quick fix for this would be for her skin to turn blue when she’s actively using her powers, at random, or other specific times, besides constantly. If she needs to be more consistently “mutant looking” Are there other ways she could change without her skin color changing or changing completely?
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People with glitter on skin, light surrounding their face, and blue braids. Images from pexels.
More ideas that keep her skin brown
Hair
Her hair color changes blue or your color of choice (which could include body hair too, which would give her a more “otherworldly” appearance).
Note: If her hair is curly or natural, please keep it so! At least, the powers shouldn't change it straight.
Eyes
Her eyes glowing brighter or colorfully during power-use.
Note: If they're usually brown, they could stay brown when powers not in use, like Marvel's Storm in some versions.
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Storm by Marvel Entertainment//20th Century Studios.
Skin and body
Blue patterns appear on her skin.
Blue glow or sheen to her skin without fully changing the color.
Her skin projects color and light.
New growths or changes to body, such as ear shape, wings, etc.
No matter what you decide, please make clear in your tale that she’s a Black mixed race woman. And have fun!
More reading:
How Special is Too Special? The Politics and Characterization of Stacking Special/Abnormal Traits on Mixed Race Characters
~Colette
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sadprose-auroras · 7 months
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On Top – Hazel Callahan x reader
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Hi! I have been able to think of literally nothing else but this character, so I simply had to. Shoutout to all the incredible writers who have been doing the lord’s work writing for Hazel already, you’re all amazing <3 I just had to add my little contribution.
Content: mild violence, sexual themes and making out, cursing, out of practise writing, no use of y/n.
Summary: Cheerleader!reader and Hazel have the hots for each other. Other stuff contextualises that, but it’s not as interesting. That’s about it. Please let me know if you enjoy! Word count: 4.4k
You first heard about the club when PJ and Josie approached you in the hallway as you were searching desperately for a book in your locker.
“Where is it?” you mumbled to yourself, when the pair came up behind you suddenly.
“Hey!”
You yelped in surprise, whipping around.
“Oh, hi. PJ. Josie.” You smiled. You weren’t particularly close with the two best friends, but you were friendly. Josie, more so. It wasn’t hard to be a little annoyed when you saw PJ treat Hazel the way she did. Okay, so maybe it infuriated you. Sure, your immense crush on Hazel might have had something to do with it, but nobody deserved to be tossed aside carelessly like that.
“What’s up? Um, we have a proposition for you,” Josie said. You frowned.
“Okay, what is it?” You were suddenly a little nervous.
“We think there is a serious lack of female solidarity at this school,” said PJ.
“Agreed,” you nodded. And you really did.
“So we’ve started this women’s, uh, like, um, solidarity club, to help us, y’know, come together, beat the patriarchy, learn to defend ourselves, it’s in the gym after school if you feel like coming along?” PJ asked.
“That actually sounds great.” You were excited. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t slightly terrified of everything that was going on.
“Really? Great! And we were thinking that maybe you could bring along, y’know, some of your friends? Like- oh gosh, for example, Brittany and Isabel? Or-or- any of your, y’know fellow cheerleaders.”
You suppressed a smile. They were so not obvious. But you were down. Although you were considered fairly popular being a cheerleader, you were keen to hang out with some other girls. It felt like nobody truly understood you.
“I make no promises about Brittany and Isabel but I’ll ask! I’ll see you guys then,” you smiled, closing your locker. The bell rang, and you said your goodbyes as you headed off to class. You gave up on finding your book. Classes were weirdly short at your school, anyway.
------------------------------------------------------------
It didn’t take much convincing to get your friends to join you. Isabel was immediately excited about the club, and Brittany, bless her soul, followed Isabel anywhere she went. Your shoes awkwardly squeaked on the gym floor as the three of you walked in and approached the group. All eyes turned to the three of you, some sitting, some standing, and a silence fell among everyone. You cleared your throat, speaking up first.
“Hey, this is the women’s solidarity club, right? We want to join.”
To your surprise, Hazel was the first to bound over and smile. Your heartbeat rapidly increased and your cheeks warmed, so you quickly looked down, avoiding eye contact.
“Hey you guys, come on in! We were just about to start-“
“Trust exercises.” Josie interrupted.
“Wrestling- wrestling each other.” PJ said at the same time, her eyes locked on Brittany. “It’s a fight club, actually.” You frowned. Surely if you were going to start a club, you’d have a clear picture of what it was going to be first? They seemed to have no idea what they were doing.
Your friend seemed completely ignorant, or at the least unphased by PJ’s crush on her. Hazel cleared her throat, and you felt a surge of sympathy for the girl. Not that you would ever tell her that. You could barely look at her without melting into a puddle. Her big, dreamy eyes that you could pretty much drown in. Her smooth-as-honey voice. Her radiant smile. The way she was so sweet to everyone, even if they didn’t deserve it. How she was simultaneously so sure of herself, seemingly so confident. Her floppy hair that was always getting in her eyes, and just looked so soft that you always wanted to just reach out and-
Oh shit. You were definitely staring now. You looked away quickly, heart racing.
“We’re not supposed to talk about th-“ Josie mumbled to PJ. “It’s a self defence club,” she explained to the group. “Come on,” she gestured, and you all gathered in a circle, sitting down. Hazel sat next to you, and you had never been so aware of somebody’s physical presence before. All you needed to do was move your leg over a few inches and hers would be touching yours. You were vaguely aware of PJ explaining that you were going to practise defending yourselves against each other, but you were only half listening. You were too busy staring at Hazel’s knee. It was so close to yours. You were snapped out of your thoughts by her knee nudging yours. You looked up at Hazel, mortified that you were caught out.
“That’s you,” Hazel said.
“Huh? What? Oh,” you laughed nervously, putting two-and-two together. Josie had said your name. You gulped. You really didn’t want to go first. Surely fighting each other was counterintuitive for solidarity? You sat up, moving to the middle of the circle.
“And um… Hazel.” Josie said. Your eyes widened. You particularly didn’t want to fight her. What if you hurt her?
“Right, okay,” Hazel chuckled awkwardly, standing up to move into the middle as well. You smiled at each other nervously and began circling each other.
“C’mon!” someone shouted.
“Hit each other!” somebody else yelled even louder. Your heart racing, you took a step forward, swinging your fist, nowhere near as hard as you could have, cringing as you did so. Hazel, thankfully, ducked, and you missed. Continuing to circle each other, you both laughed nervously.
The group shouted encouragements, egging you both on. Hazel swung this time as you attempted to dodge. You didn’t quite move fast enough though, and her fist made contact with your cheekbone. You bit back a smile. It was not okay how much you enjoyed it.
“Get her, Hazel! Slay queen!” Sylvie shouted, as she swung again, and this time you ducked quickly. Using the opportunity, you thought you’d better try again, and attempted a right hook, cringing internally when your fist made contact. Hazel smiled. She actually smiled.
“Nice one,” she said, hitting you again, knocking you down onto your back. Amidst the shock, you were vaguely aware of your lip bleeding from where Hazel’s ring made contact. Before you could move to get up, she was on top of you, hips straddling yours, pinning down your wrists. The way her body was pressed against yours made your head spin and your breath quicken. Not to mention the throbbing between your thighs. Your cheer skirt had ridden up in the process, and it was difficult not to notice the only thing covering you were the thin bike shorts underneath.
“Ready to give up yet?” she asked, smirking. You smiled, using all of your strength to push her off you, the two of you rolling over so now you were on top of her. There was something about this particular situation that was making you so much more brave then usual.
“Definitely not,” you replied. There was a bit of back and forth as you rolled around, eventually ending up on your back, Hazel on top of you. Not that you were complaining. The soft noises she made, grunting and groaning as you fought, were possibly the hottest sounds you had ever heard in your entire life. It made you wonder what she sounded if they were noises of pleasure, instead of pain, if she might moan in delight if you were to kiss her neck, if you were to be between her legs, how she would gasp-
“Hazel wins!”
Oh fuck. Your train of thought had absolutely distracted you. You literally had forgotten to keep fighting back, too busy enjoying yourself. Hazel stood up, the loss of the feeling of her against you a large disappointment. You picked yourself up as well, wincing at the pain. Hazel was looking pretty worse for wear as well, blood dripping from her nose, hair mused. You vaguely wondered if it was normal to find it incredibly sexy.
“Well done,” you said, as she reached out to shake your hand. God, she was so endearing. You tried to ignore how much sweat had pooled on your palms.
“You too,” she said, “you were amazing.”
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The next few weeks in the club were truly amazing. Despite the fighting being the thing to bring all of you together, you really felt like you had bonded with every single one of the girls more than you could have imagined. There was a beauty in the trust you put in each other’s hands to be that violent with each other.
More than anything, you felt closer to Hazel. You could actually speak to her without feeling like you were going to explode with anxiety, instead wanting to explode with affection. The pair of you had developed a habit of sitting next to one another, and after every meeting you would hang around after everyone else had left, caught up in conversation. Those small moments were such a safe space, they felt electric; you felt like you could tell her anything and she would listen. And vice versa.
Well. Almost anything.
The two of you were sitting cross-legged in the middle of the gym floor, facing each other. You couldn’t even remember how long ago everyone else had left.
“I dunno, I just feel like this is the first time I’ve had actual, real, friends in school, you know?” Hazel said. The sadness in her eyes and twitch in her brow made you want to scream, to grab the shoulders of anyone who didn’t want to be her friend and ask what the fuck was fundamentally wrong with them.
You nodded sympathetically.
“Me too. I mean, I love Brittany and Isabel, but we didn’t even talk about anything that wasn’t cheer or schoolwork or petty relationship drama until we joined the club. Now we talk about real things.”
“That’s so great,” Hazel said softly, turning your insides to mush.
“You’re so great,” you breathed out quickly, gently placing your hand on her leg before you could think. You cleared your throat, drawing your hand back and placing it back in your lap, clasping your hands together.
“Thank you,” she said your name, and you fought the urge to melt into the floor at the way your name passed through her lips.
Suddenly, the door swung open, and you both whipped your heads to see who it was. PJ wandered in, and you stiffened.
“Hey, I left my backpack.” She jogged up, grabbing it off the ground and swinging it onto her shoulder. “What are you guys doing?”
“Nothing,” you said, possibly a little too defensively.
“Yeah, just talking,” Hazel said, standing up. You basically deflated with disappointment.
“We still on for tonight? I really need some help,” PJ said to Hazel expectedly, and she nodded in response.
“Yeah, for sure. See you later,” she smiled at you, and you tried to hide your disappointment.
“Bye guys,” you waved, waiting until they left to lay down on the floor and groan.
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“PJ, you’re a liar!”
“Yeah, well, you have no friends and a skank as a mom, so…”
The pain on Hazel’s face was evident. She looked like a kicked puppy. Your blood boiled. How dare PJ say that, after everything Hazel had done for her? Enough was enough. You shot up, stalking over to PJ, rage burning inside of you. With one swift movement, you swung your fist right to the centre of her face, knocking her clean onto the floor.
It suddenly dawned on you what you had done. All of your friends watched in shock, mouths hanging open. Nervously, you turned around, Hazel gazing at you in shock.
“I-uh-“ you stuttered, utterly humiliated. Before you could apologise to PJ for taking it too far, before anyone could say anything, Hazel darted off, the doors shutting loudly behind her.
“PJ, I’m sorry, I-“ you stuttered out to the girl still laying on the floor, before taking off after Hazel.
“Haze, wait!” You followed her figure out the gym, down the hallway, around a corner, and into the toilets.
You entered, taking a deep breath. Hazel was leaning against the sink, chewing on her fingernails.
“Are you okay? I’m so sorry, that was uncalled for. I know you don’t need me to stand up for you, and I know you like PJ, and that was so not my place, and-“ you said quickly. “I’m just really sorry.”
“You don’t have to apologise to me,” Hazel sighed. “You were incredible. I should be thanking you, really.”
“Oh.” You took a small step forward, hands clasped behind your back.
“I don’t like PJ, by the way,” she shook her head, chuckling. Your stomach rolled and dipped.
“Oh?”
“Yeah,” she smiled softly.
“I just hear the way she speaks to you, and I don’t know, I think you deserve better than that,” you shrugged.
“I know I do,” she said, shuffling back and forth nervously. “I just always want to see the best in people, I guess.”
“I love that about you,” you said quickly, without thinking. Blood rushed to your cheeks. You were getting dangerously close to confessing the entirety of your feelings for her. She was the one who made you feel brave. Hazel looked away shyly at this, grinning. God, she was beautiful. You took a moment to admire her.
“That doesn’t mean that you can’t be self-assured and brave at the same time,” you continued. “Really, I’ve always thought that you seem so confident.”
“I’m not as brave as I could be,” she said quietly, scanning your face. “As you.” She inched ever so closer to you. Her eyes were burning into yours, making you feel positively dizzy. “There’s so many things I wish I could do, but I just… don’t have the confidence.” Her voice got quieter and quieter as she spoke.
“Like what?” you asked, nibbling at your bottom lip. You didn’t even remember when you got this close to each other, all you had to do was lean forward just a bit and you would be-
“Oh my god, Hazel are you okay?” the door swung open, and you both jumped back.
“Y-yeah, thanks Josie,” Hazel replied, her adorable face reddening. “It was a wake-up call, if I’m honest.”
“Between you and me, PJ had it coming,” Josie said, placing her hand on your shoulder. You smiled at her gratefully. “Someone had to do it. I really think she’ll come to her senses and realise that she needs to treat you better, Hazel.”
“Thank you. Honestly, I don’t even care that much anymore,” she shrugged, stealing a glance at you. Your breath quickened.
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It took a few weeks, but everything pretty much went back to normal. PJ was genuinely showing Hazel how sorry she was, appreciating all of the work she did for the club. You and PJ were fine, as well. You forgave each other. Meetings went back to normal, and you found yourself constantly grateful for the group of strong, brave, kind-hearted, supportive girls.
You were currently sitting on your bed, books sprawled out in front of you, ‘studying.’ Okay, so maybe you weren’t entirely concentrating on science homework. Maybe, just maybe, you couldn’t get a certain brunette out of the forefront of your mind. Particularly a certain near-kiss incident. You always presumed there was no way she liked you, that she liked PJ, but now you weren’t sure. Would she have kissed you if you hadn’t been interrupted? Your doorbell rang, and you sighed in relief at the distraction from your rumination. Being home alone, you went down your stairs, heading towards the door and opening it before checking who it was. Nothing could have prepared you to see Hazel standing there, looking incredibly nervous and incredibly adorable. She was wearing a back and white shirt paired with a black vest that should have been illegal to look that good in.
“Hey!” you said, perhaps a little too cheerfully. “What are you doing here? Do you wanna come in?”
She grinned that smile of hers that you swear could cure any disease.
“Yeah, thanks. Just came to see you, if that’s okay? I know it’s a bit weird, I hope I’m not interrupting anything?” You shook your head as she wiped her feet before entering, and you shut the door behind her.
“Just studying. So boring. I’m grateful for the distraction,” you chuckled. And you truly were grateful. It’s as if all your worries and anxieties about Hazel disappeared as soon as she was in front of you. Because it was just Hazel. Your Hazel. Your friend. And no matter what, you loved her. And you knew she cared for you, romantic or not. And that wasn’t going to change.
“Look, I-“ she started, taking a deep breath, and then beginning again. “I’m trying to be brave like you are. To say what I feel when I feel it.” Her voice was steady and even. You wanted to correct her, tell her that you don’t say what you feel, but she continued.
“And what I feel, is that I might just die if I don’t kiss you right now.”
Holy shit.
Instead of responding, you placed your hand behind her neck, both of your bodies moving in sync towards each other. The moment your lips met, you exhaled through your noses in sync. As if you were both saying, finally. Her hands found your waist as your lips softly grazed one another’s, testing the water. You parted your lips slightly, deepening the kiss. Kissing somebody new usually felt daunting as you learned to navigate it, but you had never felt safer. Hazel’s hands moved back and forth on your waist, as her tongue darted out ever so slightly. You moaned softly into the kiss, hands gently threading through the hair at the bottom of her neck. It was just as soft as you imagined.
You pulled apart for a moment, faces close to one another. Neither of you could contain your smiles. You vaguely wondered if it was possible to faint from feeling so many butterflies. Not being able to help yourself, you reached up and brushed her hair out of her eyes.
“Wow,” you exhaled.
Hazel was the first one to move this time, crashing your lips together with more urgency this time. The kiss grew more passionate as you wrapped your arms around each other, yours draped around her neck, hers engulfing your entire back. It was as if you couldn’t get any closer, as if you were drowning and kissing each other was oxygen. Pulling apart ever so slightly, you gave her one last kiss, then another, because you simply couldn’t help it.
“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.” You giggled, arms still draped around her neck.
“Me too,” she whispered, before kissing your forehead. God, could she get any cuter?
“Really?” you raised an eyebrow, as you both began to move to get more comfortable on the couch, sitting beside one another.
“Yeah, are you kidding!?” she said dramatically. “But you’re like this hot, popular cheerleader, I never thought I’d have a chance with you!”
“I’m hot? Have you seen you?” you asked in disbelief.
She blushes a deep shade of red, mouth opening slightly as if she was going to say something, then closing it again.
“I didn’t even know if you were gay,” she eventually says.
You laughed.
“Don’t you remember the first time we fought? That was like, a sexual spiritual awakening. That was the gayest shit ever.” Hazel threw her head back and laughed, eyes crinkling at the sides.
“I can’t ever forget.”
“Oh! Also…” you said, grinning from ear to ear, absolutely giddy with disbelief that this was actually happening. You pulled your top up slightly to reveal your ribs, where a small tattoo of a pair of interlocked scissors resided. You both laughed. Hazel’s cheeks reddened, and she stuttered.
“Well, I- I mean… maybe you want to be a hairdresser?” she laughed, eyes glued to the tattoo.
“God, that’s so hot,” she mumbled under her breath. “Can I?” she asked reaching out, and you nodded, heart lurching at her care for asking. She gently traced the tattoo, and you let out a shaky breath. She was barely touching you, and yet her effect on you was all-encompassing. Goosebumps prickled your skin everywhere, not just where she was touching you.
“Hazel,” you whispered, barely loud enough for her to hear. “You can take it off if you want.” Your voice came out shakier than you anticipated. Hazel gulped, nodded, then pulled your top off, your arms stretching up to help her. She tossed it on the floor, eyes scanning all of you as if she couldn’t quite take it all in. You were in a plain cotton bra, still wearing your cheer skirt, but Hazel made you feel like you were wearing the most expensive, fancy lingerie ever. You cupped her face, thumbing her cheek, before pulling her in for a kiss. You kissed her with less urgency this time, taking the time to explore each other’s mouths slowly and passionately. She pulled you onto her lap, so you were straddling her, her hands resting on your hips. You slowly began to move against her in rhythm, moaning into the kiss.
Hazel murmured your name against your lips, breathing shakily.
“I want- I- you’re so-“ she tried. “Jesus fucking christ,” she said as she buried her face in the crook of your neck.
“Tell me what you want,” you whispered, running your fingers through her hair. Hazel began to kiss your neck, leaving a trail of kisses up to your ear. Shivers ran down your spine, and you sighed in pleasure.
“Whatever you want. Do whatever you want with me,” she whispered into your ear, and you quite literally nearly came right there and then.
“No, what do you want?” you asked, thumbing at her lip. She opened her mouth, sucking on your thumb before releasing it with a pop. You swore, she was going to actually put you into cardiac arrest. Despite this action, you could tell nobody had really asked her that before, and she was at a loss for words.
“I want to make you feel good. Is that okay?” you asked, instead of letting her answer.
“God yes,” she basically moaned, kissing you. Meanwhile, you pushed her vest off, making quick work of undoing the buttons of her shirt. You tossed the items on the floor, barely breaking your lips apart for a moment.
“Lay down for me,” you moved off her lap, letting her get comfortable. This gave you the perfect opportunity to run your eyes over her body. She was left in a soft black crop top and jeans. Looking down at her, her chest rising and falling, soft skin to die for, eyes wide with desire, lips plump from making out, it crossed your mind that you had never, ever, ever, seen a more heavenly sight.
“You’re so beautiful,” you breathed out, moving to straddle her again, intertwining your fingers together above her head.
“You’re the most beautiful,” she retaliated, nudging your noses together. You both giggled, and you kissed her softly.
“Take the compliment, baby. I mean it,” you said, kissing her again, before she could respond again. Still holding one of her hands, you moved the other down her tummy, lightly tracing patterns on her skin. Her eyes fluttered as she bit her lip.
“Touch me,” she said. You smirked.
“Now we’re getting somewhere,” you chuckled, glad she was asking for what she wanted.
“Can I take these off?” you blinked at her, fiddling with a belt loop on her jeans.
“Please,” she said breathily, arching her back slightly. You undid the button, the zipper, then stood up so she could shimmy out of them, you yanked them off her legs a little too hard, your feet giving out beneath you as you stumbled backwards, landing on your ass on the floor in shock. You looked at each other for a second, before both bursting out laughing.
“Smooth,” Hazel said between loud laughs. “Really smooth. How did you even manage that?” she teased, getting off the couch, instead onto the floor with you, crawling towards you. Your eyes drifted down to her cleavage, then back to her eyes. You inhaled sharply.
“Shut up,” you teased back, as she moved on top of you, pinning you down.
“I feel like we’ve been here before,” Hazel mused, holding your wrists down.
“I’m definitely getting flashbacks,” you laughed. “Except this time, I can just…” you kissed her, a little sloppily, but neither of you cared because it was so hot.
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The very next day, you and Hazel walked hand in hand into a club meeting, giggling and whispering to each other. You were the last ones to arrive, having gotten a little distracted in the janitor’s closet.
Everyone turned to look at the pair of you, all seemingly realising what was happening at the exact same moment.
“Oh my god, FINALLY!”
“You fucked! Finally!”
“You were so obvious!”
“Slay queens!”
A chorus of excitement engulfed you, as everyone crowded around you, hugging the pair of you. PJ included.
“I’m really happy for you guys. This-“ she pointed back and forth between you, then made some inappropriate gestures, “makes a lot of sense.”
“Thanks, dude.” Hazel smiled at her.
“Okay, let’s start!” Josie chimed, and you all sat down in a circle. You didn’t let go of Hazel’s hand for a moment. “As per our new protocol, we’re drawing names for pairings.” She held up a hat full of slips with all of your names on it, shaking it around. She stuck her hand in, swirled it around a little too long for dramatic effect. She drew a paper out, reading it aloud.
“Hazel!” You internally groaned. You didn’t want anyone else to get that close to your girl.
“And….” She picked another piece, reading your name out. You grinned.
“Are you game?” Hazel asked, and you nodded enthusiastically.
“Only if you are.”
“Are you kidding?” She leaned into your ear to whisper. “Any excuse to get you on top of me.”
2K notes · View notes
radiant-reid · 1 year
Note
If your up to this, could you write a smut where reader picks up Reid from prison and he's awfully quiet (she doesn't know he's horny as soon as he sees her) and so when they get home the first thing he does is fuck her 🤭
I had a dream about this and I just wanted to see someone write it lmao.
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no bc he's so pretty
You're handling him like he's glass, one breath away from shattering.
He hates it, but it's predictable. He's just been through something horrible, so of course, the one person who loves him most in the world would be gentle and supportive.
The problem is Spencer wants to be rough. In his three months locked in prison, he didn't see any of his usual stress relief- you.
"Are you..." You hesitate about what to add. No matter what word you said, the answer was obvious. He wasn't fine or okay or good.
"Glad to be out." He answers, reaching out to hold your hand.
You've been hesitant to touch him, unsure if it might trigger something in him, which is why you didn't during the drive. You were hesitant to talk as well, sure that he might need silence.
He needs you. So badly.
The inside of the apartment looks the same. The mug he had last used before he went to Mexico was still sitting on the coffee table.
You notice him fixating on it. "Sorry, I know you hate the mess." You explain. "I just... I couldn't-" Once you found out he wouldn't be coming home for a while, you were paralyzed, unable to touch anything of his.
"It's okay." He assures you, gliding his hand across your back. God, you missed him. Everything about him, but especially how he feels. Then he turns to look at you. "I want you." He says.
"I didn't want to be overwhelming, but I was thinking we could get Thai takeout, and I made cheesecake for dessert." You say, walking over to the kitchen. His eyes follow you, tracing the outline of your body that is so deep in his brain.
It wasn't what he meant, but he didn't expect you to figure he wanted sex first thing. He walks closer to you, grabbing your hips and pinning you to the bench.
You squeal at the sudden movement as a natural reaction, but it lights a fire inside you instantly. "Spence." You whimper.
"I want you, Y/n." He repeats, dipping his head to breathe against your neck. It's hot on your skin, leaving a wake of goosebumps. "I need you."
You roll your hips back into his. "Have me then." You whisper to him, turning your face so his nose brushes against your cheek. "Right here."
"Fuck." He groans. There's no time to waste. He hasn't been inside you in so long. "It's been so fucking long." He tells you as he quickly unbuttons your pants, pulling them down your thighs.
You help him by unbuttoning your shirt while he works on his pants. There's less foreplay than usual, just both of you stripping as quickly as you can.
"Wait, wait, wait," Spencer stops you as you lean forward.
You stop, turning to look at him. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing, nothing." He assures you, shaking his head. His eyes soften, emotion taking over his features. "Sorry, I just wanted to kiss you." He says.
You can sense the nervousness in his tone, like he's worried you'll say no. "Baby." You coo, cupping his cheek. He's yet to shave, facial hair brushing against your skin. "You can kiss me whenever you like."
In contrast to how quick getting naked has been, he kisses you slowly, tentatively. "Thank you."
"I love you, sweet boy." You remind him, running your fingers through his hair.
"I love you more." He replies.
You peck his lips once more before he turns you around, and his fingers press through your folds, spreading you open and letting the slick sounds of how wet you are echo through the room.
He's checking that you're warmed up enough, not wanting to hurt you even if he needs to get his frustration out. When you feel the head of his cock against you, you spread your legs further apart, and Spencer pushes fully inside you in one swift moment, knocking the air out of your lungs.
"Fuck, Spencer." You moan, gripping the edge of the countertop.
"I know, I know." He agrees, kissing your neck. "So good." His teeth sink into your skin, and there is no doubt going to be a trail of marks. You don't care. Anything for people to know you're his. You're sure there will be bruises on your hips as well from how hard he's pounding you into the bench.
He doesn't take it slow, thrusting in and out of you with speed and force. You roll your hips back against his each time, trying to take as much of him in as you can.
"You're so deep in me." You tell him, feeling it all the way inside your stomach.
One of his hands moves off your hips, pressing your lower stomach where there's an outline of his cock. "Did you touch yourself while I was gone?" He growls lowly into your ear.
"Mhm." You admit in a whimper.
"Show me." He demands.
You move one of your hands off the countertop and move it to your clit, circling it with some urgency.
"Tell me how good it feels," Spencer instructs.
That low, gravelly tone has you clenching around him as you stutter out an answer. "Good. So fucking good, Spencer. Please don't stop."
"I won't." He promises, snapping his hips against yours. "Not until you're coming around me."
"I'm so close." You inform him, but from the increasingly loud moans and whimpers, he knows you're almost there.
"Come for me, baby." He begs. "Please."
You moan louder as you cum around him. "Fuck, Spence!"
He's there just a second later, pumping you full of cum before he rests his forehead on the back of your head while you both come down from your highs.
He pulls out of you gently, kissing your skin, and you turn around to look at him. "Hi." You say. "You doing okay?"
He nods softly as he looks at you, despite the fact you're completely undressed. "Yeah. I just really needed that."
"You can have it whenever you want." You promise, knowing there are likely to be more times when the stress is overwhelming. "I'm so glad you're home and safe."
"Me too." He agrees.
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sinswithpleasure · 1 month
Text
Night-time Play
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Thanks to @iznsfw for beta-ing <3
Inspiration:
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“Unnie—!”
Chaewon can’t hold back her whine when Sakura’s hands glide across her body, right over her ass. The wet heat between her legs only grows when the older girl squeezes the flesh in her palms, over the cloth of Chaewon’s panties. 
“Shh, Chaewonnie, you wouldn’t want the others to wake up, would you?” Sakura pulls her group leader closer to her. The younger girl straddles her, hovering just above her lap, knees on either side of her legs. Sakura leans against the headboard of her bed. Both girls are in their underwear, clothes discarded to the side.
The reminder Sakura gives has Chaewon biting her lip to muffle her moans. The younger girl grips her older member’s shoulders as an outlet for her need, and Sakura only giggles. 
“So eager, Chaewonnie. Do you need me that badly?” 
“Y-Yes, unnie, I do!” Chaewon can’t reply any faster—she wants, no, needs Sakura’s fingers where it matters the most. She needs the older girl to push her panties to the side, shove her long fingers into her pussy, and fuck her until she sees stars. Yet, Sakura doesn’t think the same—she’s taking her time with her leader: teasing her is all she’s doing. 
“Patience is a virtue, Chaewonnie. I think you can wait. Can you?” 
Sakura’s firm, yet teasing tone leaves Chaewon even wetter. She’s wondering if she should act out, if she should be the brat she is. Maybe Sakura would punish her, spank her. It’s been a while since she’s been mar—“Oh f—Unnie!”
During Chaewon’s distraction, Sakura’s hands roam up from the younger girl’s ass. They’re right over Chaewon’s bra now, and Sakura fondles them in her palm softly before she reaches beneath the cups to touch Chaewon directly. Sakura’s warm hands only add fuel to Chaewon’s lust. 
“Unnie, please!” Chaewon opts to act out just a bit more. It might work, after all. 
“Shut up, Chaewonnie, or I’ll get dressed and leave.” Sakura gives her a second warning. “I can take care of myself, but you can’t without me, and we both know that.” 
Point taken—the last time Chaewon got off without Sakura’s permission, she was forced to edge for a week straight—the worst week of her life. 
“Good girl. Now, let unnie take care of you.”
Sakura draws her hands out of Chaewon’s bra. The younger girl almost whimpers at the loss of contact, but she forces herself to keep quiet. Chaewon’s disappointment turns into happiness a second later when the Japanese girl pulls her bra down to expose her bare breasts, her nipples taut in arousal. Sakura wastes no time in taking one into her mouth, eagerly sucking on her leader’s chest and drawing a soft moan from her. Her hands don’t stay idle either—one returns to her ass, and the other plays with Chaewon’s free nipple, which renders the younger girl a whimpering mess. 
“God, you sound so good, Chaewonnie…” Sakura giggles as she pulls her lips away from the younger’s slick nipple to give her a soft kiss. “You’re probably so wet for me, hm?”
The younger girl eagerly nods, and Sakura laughs. Chaewon could be so adorable. 
“I’m feeling nice today, so…” The hand on Chaewon’s ass slides over to a bare thigh, before Sakura flips it over to cup the younger girl between her legs, over her wet heat. “Mm, you weren’t lying, Chaewonnie. Already so wet for unnie.” Sakura runs a finger right over Chaewon’s clothed slit, her skin damp with arousal. “Such a good girl.”
“Yes, I’m unnie’s good girl!” Chaewon keens at the praise. She loves it when Sakura calls her that. 
“And good girls deserve rewards.” Sakura deftly pushes Chaewon’s panties to the side, and the younger girl gasps out loud when she penetrates her with her middle and ring fingers, down to the hilt. “Say thank you, Chaewonnie.” 
“Thank you, unnie!” The younger girl half-speaks, half-moans her reply as her older member begins to thrust her fingers into her. She opts not to speak anymore, just focusing on the pleasure she enjoys from the older girl’s fingers as they rub against her slick walls. Sakura begins to increase the tempo of the thrusts, which leaves Chaewon softly moaning over and over. The older girl presses her lips against her younger groupmate to muffle the moans, though the chaste kiss soon turns into anything but—tongues swirl, moans escape from the gaps, and Chaewon is actively grinding her hips down in the air, eager for Sakura to fuck her harder. Sakura’s fingers and palm are covered in slick—the younger girl is always so messy—but she doesn’t mind. Chaewon’s messiness is just one of the things that makes her so hot.
“Unnie, I… I’m getting close already…” A full blush envelopes Chaewon’s face at the admission. She grinds down against Sakura’s fingers, begging for more. “I… I need more, please.”
“More, mm?” Sakura grins. “Sure.”
Chaewon thinks she might’ve bit off more than she could chew when Sakura penetrates her with four fingers. The stretch has her squealing in surprise, which Sakura muffles with another kiss. 
“I know you can take it, Chaewonnie. Keep it quiet for me, will you? Good girl.”
Chaewon struggles to keep herself silent—whimpers, moans, and gasps leave her lips as Sakura thrusts her fingers into her hole. The Japanese girl makes sure to rub against her groupmate’s G-spot every time she hilts, the heel of her palm rubbing over Chaewon’s clit as well. The younger girl can’t keep herself still anymore—her hips grinding against Sakura’s palm, fingers going white with how hard she grips the older girl’s shoulders. Sakura knows her girl’s really close now—she’s getting tighter and wetter, her breaths becoming shorter. Immediately, she latches her lips back on Chaewon’s nipple, softly sucking on it for that extra bit of pleasure to push her over the edge. 
“Unnie, I… I’m cumming!”
With a shudder, Chaewon’s comes undone under Sakura’s touch. Rushes of slick flow from deep within her all over Sakura’s fingers, staining the older girl’s thighs below her as it drips. She convulses in pleasure as Sakura continues her thrusts, intent on stimulating Chaewon as much as she could take. The older girl grins as she watches, and she offers soft encouragement throughout Chaewon’s high. 
“Mhm, that’s right, keep cumming over unnie’s fingers like that, good girl. Drench unnie’s fingers in cum just like that…”
Eventually, Chaewon comes down from her high, and she collapses right on Sakura’s lap, exhausted. The older Japanese girl only grins lustfully when she lifts her cum-drenched hand to Chaewon’s lips with one instruction: “Suck.” 
And suck she does—Chaewon cleans her unnie’s hand free of her own cum with her mouth, sucking and licking her juices off thoroughly. Sakura’s praises of “Good girl” keep her going, and when she withdraws her fingers, she guides Chaewon to lie on a dry spot on the bed. Immediately, Sakura’s hands are on her panties, and she draws them off her hips, slowly pulling them off and flinging them aside as she stares at Chaewon’s pretty face. 
“You’ve had your fun, Chaewonnie.” 
Sakura straddles her younger groupmate’s face, her glistening slit just inches away from Chaewon’s lips. She grins at the breaths of anticipation brushing right against her core as she lowers herself down.
“Now, it’s unnie’s turn.”
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ja3hwa · 1 month
Text
♡ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐅𝐨𝐮𝐫 | 𝐔𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐥 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐎𝐟 𝐃𝐚𝐰𝐧 ♡
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【Synopsis】 : The boys were going to teach you a simple game of pool. Nothing more, nothing less... right?
『Word count』 : 3.9k
-> Genre: Smut. Dark Romance. Supernatural.
Pairing: Vampire!WooSanSang x Human!Reader
[Warnings] : Flirting. Dirty talk. Slight innocent reader. Foursome. Lowkey free use. Dub-con ish, but the reader is into it. Everything is just new for her. Mxm. Manhandling. Blood drinking, biting. Wounds. Whimper kink? Swearing. Clit play. Yeosang fucks her without really asking but the reader is into it. Unprotected sex. Multiple orgasms. Pet names including [Doll, Baby, Pet, Sir, Darling. Pretty thing] Use of the word slut. I shit on religion for a second, so I’m sorry if anyone is religious.
Note: Fun fact I found out that pool tables were invented back in 1470, so I felt like I had to add it aha.
Also hi I'm uploaded two fic in one night. I know crazy right?! Well, I've been really wanting to just post all my work. i got in the drafts, but im pacing myself, hehe. So this is just a little ... gift? Idk ahah i just could help, but post two tonight. Enjoy ♡♡
"Oh, my body, I don't wanna stop until the break of dawn"
Masterlist | Nav | Chapter Three | Series List | Buy Me A Ko-fi
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When you finally woke, you noticed Seonghwa had left the bed. There was a small note on the bedside table with a little heart next to your name written in black ink. You smiled sleepily, stretching slowly in the spacious bed. You’ve never had a better sleep in years, if not ever. Your small single bed that was tattered and moulding was all you’d ever known, and now you had a bed fit for a king. It was almost strange, bittersweet in a way. You felt like you were always supposed to end up here. With them. Like fate was etched in stone way before you were even of age. You had wondered if they felt the same way, as you made your way through the halls once again. It became quite easy to move around the manor now that you’ve explored a bit. You had slipped on a tunic and pants of various shades of purple and black that were sitting on the end of your bed.
“I see you’ve made yourself quite at home, pet.” You shivered at the sound of Yeosang's velvet voice. Glancing above, you see him leaning on the railing of the mezzanine, a sly smirk on his delicate features.
“She’s like a curious kitty isn’t she.” Another voice caught your attention looking towards the doorway of the billiard room you see a feline feature man. San... His dark hair and sharp yellow glowing eyes make your heart thump in anticipation. Strange? you thought. They were all vampires as far as you knew, so why were his eyes such a deep sunset yellow?
“We got to get that staring problem under control, Darling.” You jumped hearing the high-pitched man, Wooyoung right behind you, whispering in your ear. 
“I w-was not staring.” You shake your head, turning around to see all three men now standing around the pool table. San had picked up a pool stick, putting some blue chalk to dab on the end of the said stick. You watched as all three of them took a pool cue and chalked them up, curious at what they might be up to. You had never seen a pool table up close, let alone see anyone play before. You’ve only ever read about it in fancy books or heard it from the richer folk in the village. “A-are you going to play a game?”
Your words sounded flinching like you were some peasant girl asking the higher for a slice of knowledge. But in truth weren’t you just that? “We are most definitely going to be playing a game Darlin’ and you are going to be the price.”
Wooyoung’s words made you gulp, standing there awkwardly playing with the hem of your tunic. San walked over to you while Yeosang set up the balls in the triangle. San’s fingers grazed your chin before lifting your face to look at him. His smile was softer this time, unlike how it was border-lining lust prior. “Don’t worry, Pretty thing. We won’t go too hard on you. Well, Yeosang might, if you’re not too careful.”
You visibly gulp feeling a tingle in your tummy. What could he possibly be insinuating? Your mind was racing, thinking of all the possibilities, slightly thanking Jongho was not here to read your lusting thoughts. You were about to say something, but then Wooyoung came up behind San, pushing him aside so he could give you a pool cue. “I don’t know how to p-play.”
“It’s okay, darling. We will teach you.” Wooyoung’s chippy voice eased your heart slightly. And as you watched Wooyoung start to bicker with Yeosang, who would start the game. You couldn’t help but giggle. For Monsters, they sure act like teenagers. Immature and… youthful. 
“Okay okay, Woo, get over here. Let Sangie Break.” The feline yelled over all the bickering. The nicknames he gave the other males made your heart flutter. In the next few minutes, the three vampires took their turn, trying to get a ball in the hole. Until finally, San got a stripe in making Wooyoung whine. 
“How do you always manage to score first.” Wooyoung was disappointed about his lover winning, shifting his weight around as he stomped over to the bar that was sitting across a billiard table. He grabbed out four short glasses and began pouring an amber-coloured liquor in each one. You could hear mumbles around you, most likely San and Yeosang badgering about something again, but you couldn’t focus on them. Only looking straight at the shorter male, curiously watching him take a shot of the liquid before taking the other full glass and shotting it.
“Pet did you hear anything we said?” Yeosang's presence behind you caught your attention, noting the way his shoulder bumped into you lightly. You shook your head with a little sorry before taking a breath, suddenly blurting out.
“I didn’t think vampires could eat or drink human food.”
The situation reminded you about how you shared a meal with all of them a night ago. You were so out of it, and floating in your mind, you didn’t really take notice that they were, in fact, consuming food. Cooked cow, vegetables, rich sauces, and wines. It was always written in history books and the words of your church that no hellspawn beasts like night crawlers were able to consume and dine on earthy foods. Only craving and needing the taste of blood to sustain themselves. 
San had to try very hard not to laugh at your innocence. Wooyoung had a cheeky smirk on his face, placing the glass on the brim of the pool table, speaking up on your question. “Oh, we do not have to eat or drink to stay alive if that’s what you’re asking. And drinking does nothing for us unless we drink an entire Alehouse. But it does take the edge off for us a little bit.” He downed his drink like he did before, some of the alcohol dripping down his chin. San, within seconds, moved from one end of the table to where Wooyoung stood. His speed created a little wind pocket that blew against your face, making you shiver. San’s hand cupped Wooyoung’s chin, drawing his face upwards. San then opened his mouth, letting his freakishly long tongue slide out onto the younger's neck, licking up the liquor he had spilt.
You gulp, looking away to see Yeosang staring at you intensely with a smirk. He bit his lip before chuckling “God I wished I could read minds. I bet you’re thinking about the filthiest things right now.” He moved to stand in front of you, making you take a step back until you were trapped against the pool table and his broad body. “Such a cute little pet, with such a dirty little mind.”
“W-Wha...I…” You didn’t know what to say cause in truth you couldn’t help but think vulgarly around them. They were all so attractive, and it was like some kind of drug being near them. You looked back to San and Wooyoung, seeing San now had his tongue down the other man's throat, and you couldn’t help but whine. What you didn’t realize was that from looking away from Yeosang, you bared your neck to him, making him growl. “You should never show off your neck to vampires unless you want them to bite you, baby.”
Your eyes widened at his words. But you couldn’t react fast enough. It was like your body became a ragdoll as he moved you with the speed of light. Your back hit the table with a thud, legs spread with Yeosang’s body in between them and his face in the crook of your neck. Your fingers squeezed his shoulders as you felt his sharp fangs run along your hot skin. “S-Sangie…”
“Hmm using my nickname is only gonna make me want to fuck you, pet.” his nose brushed down your main vein, letting him breathe in your scent sharply. You were the sweetest thing he had ever smelt. 
“Sangie.” You repeated suddenly, reaching tighter for Yeosang’s large shoulders, lacing the fabric of his dress shirt in your fingers. The vampire just chuckled, kissing along your hot skin. You wiggled against him, feeling his crotch twitch beneath the layers of cloth that separated you both. “Please.”
“Ooo, She begs. My favourite.” Yeosang’s fangs grazed your neck, making your heart thump harder. You felt like your whole body was on fire, and every nerve was being consumed with nothing but Yeosang. His scent, his dark deep chuckles. The way his fingers glide along your body. 
Him. 
While his hands played with the fabric on your clothing. You turned your head to look back at where Wooyoung and San were, but the in a blink of an eye, they vanished. 
“Don’t get this party started without us.” San’s voice frightened you as he was suddenly at the other end of the table, leaning over to give your forehead a light little kiss. Wooyoung, however, was now standing next to Yeosang, pushing your right leg opened wider so both men could stand in between them. “I can smell her from over there.”
“I know, our little slut is getting nice and wet from us teasing her.” Yeosang spat out such a foul name at you but it only made you whimper more. No way in your wildest dreams would you have ever suspected your life would end up with being sprawled out on a pool table with three Vampire, kiss and lick parts of your body that weren’t covered by your clothing.
Sinful. Hellborn. A daughter of Lilith. Words from your mother came flooding in your mind like little flashes of a candle flame blowing in the wind. Maybe she was right. Maybe she saw your future before you even knew it.
“F-fuck I need a taste,” Wooyoung whined, tugging at your pants, but what you didn’t expect was him to lift up the loose pant leg, exposing your right thigh. Yeosang pulled up your tunic, drawing his tongue out onto your hot skin. And finally, San, the last one, lifted your wrist to his nose, inhaling sharply before opening his mouth to suck on the soft flesh.
“I’d take a deep breath If I was you, pet,” Yeosang grunted with a sly smirk, making you let out a large gasp. You felt all three of them sink their teeth into you in a sudden snap, almost synchronised. The crunch of broken skin echoed in the room before ringing in your ears. You could feel their addictive vampiric venom pouring into your veins while they emptied you of blood. The euphoric feeling of being drained was indescribable. Like floating on a cloud, feeling the soft cotton tickle your body, leaving your toes and fingertips to tingle. 
“F-ffuck. Argh.” Was all you could mutter out before rolling your eyes back again. You could feel Yeosang’s deep chuckle against your tummy, feeling like the sound almost came from inside you. And without letting his fangs slip, he drew his hand to your covered core. Pressing sharply on your sensitive button through the loose fabric. This made you let out another gasp, calling for Yeosang. “S-Sangie pleasee.”
San retracted his fangs from your wrist before whining, “Hey, I want to hear you cry my name out. Can you do that for me, pretty?” The vampire kissed along your arm until he got to your neck. You nodded while he tilted your head to the side, exposing your jugular. “such a good little doll. Now I want you to scream.”
And with that, he sunk his teeth into the crease of your shoulder and neck, making you let out a loud, painfully lustful cry. “FUCK SAN!!!”
Wooyoung and Yeosang finally pulled away after a few more moments, licking their lips of your blood. Yeosang had a deep growl rumble in his chest as he ran his thumb over the puncture wound, smearing the crimson liquid on your red irritated flesh. Wooyoung did the same but drew a heart with it instead making himself giggle in approval. “Fuck if we didn’t want to keep you alive pet. We would have drunk you dry.”
Yeosang’s empty threat would have scared anyone, but for some reason, it only enticed you more. Pulling your shaky legs up, you placed your bare feet on the edge of the pool table before spreading your legs wide. The grumpy vampire seemed to get the hint, taking his long nail he ripped the fabric right in between your thighs, making a slit-like opening for him and Wooyoung to get a perfect view of your soaking cunt. “Now, why don’t you look at that.”
Yeosang growls, sliding a finger along your wet lips. Your whole body shivers, feeling yourself becoming overwhelmed with pleasure. This shock wave made San sit up suddenly, pulling away from your shoulder, gasping for air as he let out the deepest, most feral-like groan you’ve ever heard.
“Fuck, She tastes so good when you do that. I need one of you to fuck her right now so I can taste that again” His blood-stained lips kissed along your shoulder smearing all the red crimson liquid over your soft skin. His kisses your feverish as if he had become drunk off you alone. The few buttons that were holding your shirt closed were now being opened by the feline male, slowly revealing your hidden flesh. 
“I volunteer as tribute.” 
Wooyoung protested, shaking his belt in a manner of desperation, but Yeosang quickly scoffed, snaking his belt out of the hoops of his pants in one swift motion before dropping it. “I’d like to see you fucking try. This pussy is mine.” Yeosang’s deep venomous growl made the younger vampire cower slightly, giving him a slight pout. 
“Why do you get to go first.” From your angle, you could have sworn you saw Wooyoung stomp his feet, making you giggle lightly, catching the attention of all three of the men around you. Yeosang kisses your tummy lightly, pulling your focus to him alone, his hands gripping your hips and body snuggling tightly against your hot core.
“What’s so funny, pet? Finding enjoyment over us fighting over you?” Yeosang’s lips travelled up your navel as he kissed along your newly exposed skin since San had now successfully unbuttoned your top, revealing your perky, tight nipples on your plump and soft breasts.
“Yes sir…” you whispered, closing your eyes as you revelled in the feeling of his tongue sliding along your body.
“Fuck, she’s so good isn't she.” San covered his mouth with his hand, sighing at how obedient you had become. Reaching for your breast he squeezed your plump flesh together, pinching your nipples between his pointer and thumb. You choked out a whine as he rolled the pad of his finger over your sensitive bud, almost completely distracting you from the vampire between your legs. 
“Come on, Sangie, hurry up. I want to be inside her so badly.” Wooyoung has hopped up onto the end of the pool table leaning on his hand behind his soft frame. His hand palming his covered crotch, panting slightly as he watched San and Yeosang ravish you. Your hazy eyes looked back to see San standing straight and tall behind you. Giving you a sweet smile that was hiding a sinister lust underneath.
Before you could say anything about what Wooyoung had said, you felt Yeosang’s thick cock head breached your tight pussy. “Oh FUck!” You bucked your hips, helping him slide into you deeply inch by inch until he bottomed you out. He was definitely girthier than Seonghwa, making you feel like the wind was being knocked right out of you. 
“Shhit. This is the tightest pussy I’ve ever felt. Are you sure Seonghwa fucked you pet?” Yeosang began to ramble, pulling you down more so your ass was almost off the table. Sangie put his one hand under your thigh and hip, holding you still so he could slowly start thrusting into you, sharply and greatly. “So tight, so warm. Such a good little pet. You like being fucked baby? Bet you’d take all of us in one go if we’d asked.”
“Oh my god! Yes!!! please, Sangie.” You yelped at the top of your lungs just from the pure idea of having all eight of them. Pleasing them all. Dotting on them. You needed them just as much as they needed you. Yeosang gripped your shirt that hung open on the top and pulled you up until your face was inches from his and his lips, almost touching your own. 
“It’s master, my sweet little slut.” He yanked you off the pool table, pulling out for a moment so he could help you walk to the couch and even though his movements were rough, his grip was gentle, holding you closely in a way. Lovingly. “Come on baby, bend over the couch for me.”
He gave your ass a squeeze before letting you fall on your knees on the plush cushions. The couch was facing away from the pool table, so when you leaned over the top of it, you could get a perfect view of the other two vampires. “Okay, new game.” Yeosang knelt behind you, holding your hips, rubbing his palm against your skin. “Whoever gets a ball in first gets to take over and fuck our precious baby here. Deal?”
You had to laugh as San and Wooyoung scrambled around to grab their own pool stick. Your smile was bright as you were about to say some cheeky remark but you slowly felt Yeosang enter your soaked pussy from behind making you only let out a shaky whimper. His hands gripped tightly on your hips as your eyebrows knitted together and your mouth fell into an ‘O’ shape. “Jesus fucking Christ.”
Yeosang chuckled as he thrusted into your cunt in shallow motions. His hand gripped the back of your neck, pulling you up so your body was at an odd angle, but you couldn’t care less. “Last time I checked I’m not god’s pathetic son.”
Your fingers lased into the couch cushions, gripping onto it for dear life as you felt him slowly hammer into you faster. Your pussy would clench with each thrust making the most beautiful groans and whimpers fall from his lips. The hand that held the back of your neck, snaked around the front to clench tightly, blocking your airway just lightly, sending your brain into a fuzzy mess. 
“M-Master….” You cried, collapsing onto the edge of the couch. Your legs are shaking, and your arms are no longer able to hold yourself up anymore. San and Wooyoung were bickering, yelling at one another as they kept trying to get a ball in the hole. That was until San bent down and shot one of his stripes by hitting Wooyoung’s ball before getting it into the end left basket. 
Your glassy eyes could see San’s triumph, along with Woo’s high-pitched whine of defeat. The knot in your stomach was tightened with every thrust of Yeosang’s hips but before you could reach your climax he slipped out of your soaked cunt making you hiccup in a loud whine. “F-Ffuckk.”
“It’s okay, pet. Breathe…” You tried to take in a shaky breath as you felt your whole body being manhandled until you were sitting perfectly on someone’s lap. San’s naked lap, to be exact. His hazy smile got you blushing as he leaned forward to kiss your cheek so delicately.
“Don’t worry, sweet thing. I’ll take good care of you.” San’s cooe made you relax nicely against him as he lined his cock with your abused cunt. You were already so sensitive but somehow you were still craving more. The loud sound of pool balls whacking together got you startled but San stroked your cheek with his thumb slightly as he pulled your face towards his with his fingers. “Focus on me, baby. I want to see you come apart on my cock okay. No closing those pretty eyes."
You nodded with a short whimper followed by a simple yes that was so quiet you’re surprised San heard it. But then you remember that you weren’t fucking a normal man, but a beast in human form. A blood-sucking night-crawling beast that could kill you with his bare hands at any time. Your pussy clenched around his lengthy, and girthy cock making him groan. He slowly lifted your plump thighs up helping you gather a rhythm with your hips so you could ride him slowly. “S-sannie. Oh g-god please.”
“Such a good girl. Come on. Fuck you’re so tight...” You focused on his knitted brows and slightly parted mouth, seeing he was enjoying this just as much as you were. Your hips got faster as San started to buck upwards to match your movements. Your whole body was feeling like it was on fire, sensing you were close. He pushed your body up so he could help thrust deeper inside you. This left your tits to be right in his face, making him groan as he latched onto your plump flesh and sucked. Your breasts would be completely covered in hickeys by the time San was down them. And as his mouth traveled to the top of your breast you clenched around him, sucking him deeper into your tight cunt. He lost himself in your scent, the way you squeezed him and the sound of your pretty moans. He needed more, just another taste. He needed to taste the flavour of you when you came.
“S-San I’m gonna cum.” You gasped, tangling your fingers threw his hair.
“Come for me, baby. Be a good little human for me and cream on my cock.” He licked your skin before biting down, sinking his fangs into the top of your breast, jackhammering you at an inhuman pace. You screamed so loud that the whole manor would have heard, coming so much around Sans hard cock. You were it grew bigger inside you as your clenched harder, feeling him drink his fill of your red hot liquid. 
“San.” A male voice called out but your head was too dizzy, feeling San continue his assault on your cunt and teeth in your flesh. “SAN!!” The voice got loud but your eyes began to droop feeling a wave of sleep erode through your body. You heard San lewdly growl animalisticly against you, still drinking your blood as his cock stilled tightly in you, letting him come deep inside you.
The voice before screamed again, but your eyes closed, and darkness took over before you could see or hear anything else.
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494 notes · View notes
bigfatbimbo · 1 month
Note
Please do continue about girldick Charlie! I want to see your thoughts!
girldick charlie x reader general headcanons —
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summary — Vague, horny and self indulgent rambles about girldick Charlie… obviously
a/n — I love her so much. My problem is that no one ever requests her! Anyways, i’m eating this prompt up.
warning — smut, charlie is a switch and so is the reader in this scenario, girldick, oral, degradation and praise, NOT ENTIRELY PROOFREAD!!!
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***QUICK BACKUP INFO IF YOU DIDN’T SEE THE POST!!! Basically, we see that Lucifer has the ability to shapeshift, and since i’ve already written boycunt Lucifer… and Charlie is his daughter… maybe that ability would be… passed on. No because like you would just ask her like, “Dick tonight, baby?” and she’d be like “Of course, sweetie. Anything for you!” as if it’s not a wild as fuck request. Like you’re literally asking ‘Hey, can you casually just switch up your body parts for a sec? I feel like getting fucked outta my mind.’ And Charlie is just down immediately. Anything to make you happy and feeling taken care of is okay with her. Stressful day? Feeling bad about yourself? Just horny as fuck? Your problems will be solved with Charlie’s dick and the best goddamn aftercare of your life. Because when Charlie leads, she’s absolutely a soft dom/service top. Everything she says and does is to make you have a good experience because to her, sex is not about how she feels! She is ensuring you’re having a great time at any cost. So maybe you had a super stressful day, you’re anxious about work you didn’t do or didn’t compete well enough, and it’s bugging you. She’s coaxing you into taking a break, telling you she’d take care of you. Her comforting words while rubbing your shoulder quickly turns into her on top of you, gently fucking into you with praising words. She’s rutting into you at a steady, but not rough pace, with her hands pining your wrists above the bed. And she’s going on and on, semi-coherently might I add because she’s very sensitive, about how proud of you she is, and how hard you worked, and how you’ve done everything to deserve this. And even though she’s not used to having a dick so she’s super touchy and hypersensitive, she would literally never cum until you have. Your pleasure comes first, always. But…. mean Charlie does something to me. Because she’s not easily upset, doesn’t have a temper, and is very nice. However, her demon form?? That ‘fuck you’ to Susan?? When she’s mad it’s a whole other story. Imagine the rare situation pissing her. Poking her and fucking with her, giving her kids of shit and attitude all day, and then finally she snaps. And she uncharacteristically aggressive. Her horns come out and she fuck you actually rough, with little to no mercy. But after one round she’d go back to her normal praising self, making up for her degrading words with loads of praise while she recedes into her normal gentle pace. Anyways, let’s talk about subby girldick Charlie, thank you very much. There are two roads you could take; very praising, or needlessly mean. Charlie and praise stick out to me so much. She’s always doing everything in other peoples favor. She solves other people’s problems, not her own. A little hypocritical, don’t you think. So she’s in her office overworking herself as usual, but you can’t stand that. Obviously, you go to put a stop to it. Giving her a long kiss, before whispering, “Dick today, please.” and she’d hesitate and be like “Honey… I have a lots of work to do and—“ but you’d emphasize your first point with a harsher, but not mean, strict tone, “Now, baby.” She’d reluctantly oblige, watching as you sink to your knees and pull her pants down, reading her hardening cock. “Oh, you think now is really the best time too— nngh!” she’d try to protest, being cut off with a moan as you drag your tongue across the length of your dick. After muttering about how ‘beautiful’ she is, you fully sink your mouth down onto her, taking her in. Your pace starts slow, getting used to her dick in your mouth, pulling out whimpers from Charlie as she leans back in her chair, and softly petting her thighs to comfort her. But then you speed up, and Charlie’s whimpers become loud and needy whines. She can’t help how fast she cums in your mouth. “I’m so sorry— I— Are you okay? Was that too much?” But then you fucking swallow and go back down for more. The only times you pull away are to tell her how pretty she is, how amazing she’s doing, and how beautiful she sounds
 And let me tell you, she is reeling under all the praise. She’s squirming in her seat while you suck her cock dry, all while saying such nice things. She can barely contain herself, even when her eyes go red and her horns come out. 
But, imagine being mean to her about it. Like practically demanding her dick, but this time, in a mean way. Shoving her down on the mattress and riding her dick so fast and rough she can barely take it.
And when her eyes full with tears because of the overstimulation, degrading her for being such a crybaby. “Oh please, Charlie. You can’t even handle this? Is the poor princess crying over how good her dicks being rode? Pathetic.”
And she cries even harder because she didn’t even do anything to warrant that!! But she finds it harder and harder to be upset when you’re humping her rougher after every orgasm. 
It’s fogging up her brain so bad, she can’t even ask you to stop being mean anymore, she just whines and arches off the mattress as you slam your pussy against her achey, used up dick. Now, would she call you mommy while you ride her dick in oblivion? Well with the absence of her own… no yeah. The answer is yeah. Oh, and imagine making her have a dick JUST to peg her and not give any stimulation or attention to it at all. Hearing her whine as her hands go to jerk herself off, but batting them away, telling her she needs to be patient.
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a/n — Boy oh boy, do I love being mean to nice people, or what, folks? Anyways, send more Charlie requests. We as a society need more of her.
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