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#this is just slightly less wholesome
hirsheyskisses · 8 months
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When You're Sober.
RORONOA ZORO x READER (short)
Summary: Being Roronoa's childhood friend, he's declared for the world to hear how one day, he's going to make you his wife. As adults, you had assumed he moved on, but as it stands..
A/N: I've had this in my head for AHH so long. So I'm writing it before I go back to requests 🤣
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"..are you going to stay this time?"
Child Zoro questioned you. You sighed softly, seeing the tears pricking at his eyes pulled your heart strings in ways the young swordsman couldn't even begin to comprehend. Kuina's funeral had just ended, and Zoro had immediately sought you out. You were a slightly older swordsman pupil, by 2 years to be exact, and Zoro had latched onto you recently, with Kuina jokingly teasing you of how much he liked you. Sure, 11 and 13 weren't too big, but to a kid, it was all the difference. Still though, you couldn't help but care for him.
"..no. I'll be staying at the dojo." You replied, watching him smile, just a bit. You were both still sad after Kuina's death, and you weren't about to leave the mossball all on his lonesome- and you'd grown to like this dojo, as had your father. You were certain you could convince him to stay, rather than travel to another.
"Good! 'Cause I'm gonna marry you one day, so I can't have you leaving!" Zoro declared tearfully, through his shit eating grin, and you quickly angled your head away and growled, "we're not getting married!"
It didn't matter how many times you defended yourself, he wouldn't let up. If flustered and enraged you to no end. No matter how many battles you raged against him, no matter how many times you had him panting and defeated, holding your wooden sword to his throat, no, none of it scared Zoro.
"I'm gonna marry you one day, (Name)!"
Sometimes, Zoro would even sneak into your bed. You realized they were mostly driven by nightmares. You'd hear him slowly open the door, sniffling from tears, and walk over to you. He'd prod your side before diving under the covers with you, snuggling as close to your side as possible. "I know.. you're awake." He'd mumble, wrapping his arms around you. You'd give in, wrapping one around him. "Yeah. Hard not to when ya sneak into my bed." Zoro snuggled a bit closer. "Wanna be close. That's all." You knew it was more. He trusted you. He even began to tell you about the nightmares, and despite yourself, You'd comfort him. Hold him until he fell asleep.
It grew increasingly difficult for you to be mad at him, especially not seeing as it had become almost a game- plus his wholesome and innocent smile was so damn adorable. You figured he'd grow out of it eventually, popping out of nowhere to declare his undying love. Until then, you grew accustomed to him popping out of closets, around trees and doors, and through windows and met his confessions through the clashes of your blades.
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As it turns out, Zoro did grow out of it. The two of you had long since left the dojo together, became bounty hunters, and then became pirates on Luffy's crew. Around 16, and you being 18 is when Zoro had began to stop asking, the questions growing less and less often until they had halted altogether, his mind set on fulfilling his promise to Kuina, to become the world's strongest and carry his name to the heavens, where yours was to find the world's wonders, and the blades of your dreams. In fact, the last time he'd done so..
..Zoro had grown. He knew that, you knew that. He'd never let you live down that you're shorter than him, much to your dismay. You both had barely left the dojo, and Zoro had decided the first thing he wanted to do was drink for the first time. So that's what he did. You chose to stay sober, just in case.
What you hasn't anticipated was just how clingy he'd get when he was wasted.
"Hey.." you were leading him back to the hotel, when without any warning, he'd pulled you into an alley and pushed you gently against the wall. Zoro stared intently into your eyes and pressed himself a bit closer, you could smell the alcohol from his breath. "Fuckin- Zoro! What're ya doin?!"
"So cute.." he'd lean in and smell your hair, his earrings glinting in the moonlight, arms keeping you caged against the wall. "I've waited.. s'long. M' even of age now."
He pulled back a bit, towering over you, and you could feel yourself becoming a furious, blushing mess. Zoro himself was flushed, panting softly, lips parted ever so slightly.
"Wanna marry ya. Wanna marry ya s'bad.."
He slurred, and you flushed a deeper shade of red. His hand reached up to tuck some hair behind your ear, and you were frozen for a long moment. Until you finally came back to your senses.
Shoving his face away, you grabbed his arm and began storming to the hotel,
"Stupid mossball! Ask me again when you're sober!"
He never did.
Sometimes you missed it, how close you and Zoro used to be. Sure, you still had complete trust in one another, and always had each other's backs in battle, but it was as though you'd both spoken so much, that you no longer spoke. You'd still train, sometimes even nap in the others presence, but words had become rarer, instead communicating through looks more often than not, quick and brief. You were beginning to miss his voice.
"(Nameeeeeee).. hey. 'chu doin' all alone?"
Speaking of Zoro- he'd joined you on the rail of the Sunny. On the beach, the rest of the straw hats were celebrating with the locals, and said locals had given Zoro an alcohol like no other. Zoro, believing his tolerance was high enough to take it, decided to drink it during a drinking contest. For the first time in a long while, he was wasted. Again.
"Relaxing. It was quite the battle today." You responded, smiling at the swordsman. His swords rested at his side, and your two rested st your side.
"It was.. f'sure." Zoro agreed, leaning against the railing, "you handled yerself good out there." He placed a hand at the small of your back, smiling at you. "Saw the new technique.. should use it against me sometime."
You awkwardly moved away from his hand, laughing softly. "Yeah, sure, when you're sober." His smile fell ever so slightly, and you tilted your head in confusion. "Ya good there, Zoro?"
"No. I'm not."
He responded, and with little warning, he had you in his arms, practically squishing you against him in a fiercsome hug. "Ack! Zoro! Can't breathe!" You yelped, laughing breathily as you struggled to escape his wrath, deciding to worry about him after you could breathe again.
"....why ya talk ta Sanji s'much?"
Zoro growled, loosening his grip and grabbing you by your shoulders, suddenly pushing you away but still holding you, at arms length. "HAH? Fuck you mean?" "It means.. exactly what I'm askin'. You even ditched training the other day.. ta' talk to that damn cook. Why?" He sounded hurt, and you grew even more confused. "'Cause he's my friend? Plus, I've been taking some cooking lessons from him to help out." Zoro scowled, clenching his teeth and flat glaring at you. His grip was tightening to the point it hurt, and you tried not to wince, instead meeting his glare with one of your own. "What's your problem, Roronoa?! They put angry juice in your damn booze?" You placed emphasis on his last name, which only caused his grip to tighten more. You watched as he opened his mouth, then closed it again, struggling to find the right words to say.
"My problem is, is I wanna fuckin' marry ya, and seein ya with that damn cook pisses me off."
His voice was low, and he loosened his grip, instead opting to massage your shoulders. Yet again, you'd frozen, watching Zoro's glare turn into a pout as he dropped his head.
"I know I know.. ya dont feel the same.. but.. damn it, atleast choose someone better than him."
To say you were shocked was an understatement. You'd never seen Zoro look so defeated, watching him turn his head away. He hasn't given up, but he was about to. Your heart shattered in more ways than one. As his hands dropped from your shoulders, you knew one thing: it was now or never.. but what if these were just..
You reached out and grabbed his hand, staring at the ground. You couldn't look at him- not when he looked like a kicked puppy. "Zoro.."
"...yea?"
"Ask me again. When you're sober. I'll answer you."
Then, you jumped over the edge of the ship, landing on the beach, and ran to join the others, face beet red and guilt boiling deep in your gut.
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He didn't. The next day you both went on as if nothing happened. However, after breakfast, Zoro vanished off the ship, alongside Nami. You'd decided to think nothing of it, however, part of you wished, so badly, that you'd just told him. But you had also decided that if Zoro couldn't tell you when he was sober, then it just wouldn't work.
I've loved him for years.. I thought he'd forgotten. God.. I wish I could turn back time, and accept him. I'm a fool.
"(Name)-chan? You're looking gloomy. That damn Marimo do something to you?! I swear I'll-"
Sanji had approached you, and you cut him off with a wave of your hand. "Its.. just a childhood subject came up. It's touchy." You responded, finally removing your gaze from the table to meet his gaze. Sanji sat across from you, "Wanna talk about it?"
"...not sure what good it'll do." You huffed, fidgeting with your hands. For a long moment, Sanji was silent. Which was odd, seeing as he was usually swooning over you, or whisking you away to teach you a new cooking technique.
"..things will work out between you two. Don't worry. He may be a lumbering fool, but he isn't a total idiot." Sanji said, a twinkle in his eyes. You glanced at him, "whatddya mean by that?" "I mean exactly what I said, darling."
You spent the rest of the day wondering what Sanji could've possibly meant. Working around the ship and making sure everything was ready to set sail in the morning, Chopper dancing around your feet as he helped and rambled about medical knowledge.
As time rolled around for dinner, you were moving to the kitchen with the others, laughing with Usopp at Luffy's antics, when all of a sudden,
"(NAME)! hol.. hold on." Zoro came running up behind you, with something held in his hands. Nami wasn't far behind, but she maneuvered around the two of you to stand with the others.
"Fuck.. never doin that again." He grumbled, dropping to one knee and staring up at you, chest heaving, as he pulled out a small box.
"..zoro?-"
"You.. you told me to ask again when I'm sober. So I am."
"Marry me."
He opened the box to reveal a beautiful black and gold ring. You froze, staring at it, and then at the swordsman, who was staring up at you, just as still as you.
He..
"...fuckin' hell Zoro. Yes, I'll marry you."
The grin that erupted on Zoro's face was beautiful as tears spilled from your eye, and your crewmates cheered behind you both as Zoro pulled you into his arms, slipping the ring on your finger.
"SUPPPPER! finally!" "Yohohohoho! I should play some music!" "Damn marimo.. You'd better take care of her!" Their congratulations fell on deaf ears as Zoro held you, burying his face into your shoulder. The growing wet feeling on your shoulder told you one thing: he was crying, too.
"..I love you. So much.. please, stay at my side for the rest of eternity." He whispered, voice raspy, and you melted into his hold,
"Always, and forever. I've always been yours, Zoro."
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So I'm having a ~moment~ right now and am thinking about that one super dark Smokescreen fic i read a while back, and ok really my brain is going full Protecto mode and warping it into an entirely different story in my head, what's the point of this post? To remind myself why i made Dynamo as a character.
A character who's clearly been Through It, and is willing to use their bad experiences in order to help someone else through their own bad experiences. Finally, a transformers character who has went through effective therapy.
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okay-babe · 3 months
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Saw your Alastor request game and HAD to give it a try
A wholesome “ZIP ME”. Alastor helping with getting ready for the day or assist and just shows appreciation 🥰🥰🥰🥰
In love with you for requesting this prompt because I am in such a fluff writing mood rn <3
(Also for my anons who also requested this prompt, I still plan to write something for those as well, so they should be out before too long!)
Morning Routine
tags: alastor x fem! reader, established relationship, extreme levels of fluff, domestic bliss, soft alastor
Throughout your life (and death) you had woken up to many a nice view, from the rivers and lush wetlands of Louisiana to the sight of the city hundreds of feet below you.
And yet, none compared to the view of your beloved when he was half-ready for his day, which was typically the stage at which he woke you from your always deep and well needed slumber.
And today was no different.
Alastor hummed a distantly familiar tune from behind your still sleeping form as he slid in beside you on the bed you shared, body resting atop the covers as he leaned forward to press a kiss behind your ear. In response, you shifted slightly, nose scrunching the smallest bit as your lover's breaths tickled the soft flesh he had so very recently offered his affections to.
Alastor chuckled slightly under his breath at the sight, raising a gloved hand up to the exposed portion of your upper arm to run a feather-light touch down its length, immediately causing you to shiver.
After a few more moments of tickling breaths and nearly fleeting touches, your breathing pattern shifted slightly, eyes blinking open and squinting at the sudden invasion of light that was always there to greet you each morning.
Groaning softly, you were quick to close your eyelids once more, brow furrowed with displeasure at your wakefulness as the Radio Demon laughed beside you.
"Why good morning, dearest, how lovely to see you!"
He teased exuberantly as you huffed in reply, just barely opening your eyes enough to make it obvious that you were glaring at him before closing them once more to yawn.
"Ah ah ah,"
Your lover tutted from beside you, his grin wide and immensely amused as he continued,
"I'm afraid the time for rest is over, my dear. No more exhaustion allowed."
You scoffed in response, only just barely fighting off the urge to flip him off as you sat up slightly, tugging your knees toward your chest and blinking your blurred vision away to the sound of barely moving water and a whispered breeze that always seemed to flow through the far less inhabitable side of the room you and your husband slept in.
Satisfied with your vague efforts to get up for the day, Alastor hummed in contentment, standing just as he always did after waking you so he could continue his typical routine, allowing your hungry eyes to follow him eagerly.
It was like this every morning, and you'd be a fool to believe he didn't know and find some semblance of amusement within it, but even still you couldn't bring yourself to care.
You gained far too much enjoyment from watching your love's lithe and nimble fingers do up the buttons of his shirt and tie the fabric of his bow tie to feel any shame over it.
Or, at least, enough shame to make you stop.
You continued your enraptured staring for several more minutes, eyes trained heavily on the view of the overlord rolling up his sleeves and sliding his belt through the loops of his dress slacks as if he were a modern art exhibit designed to utterly enthrall you.
Your gawking continued all the way up until Alastor turned back toward where you were sitting upon the bed, his head tilted slightly in mock curiosity as he began to approach you once more, donning all but his coat, a sight which made you blush in spite of yourself.
Sure, you had known the demon for an extremely long time and had seen him in far more compromising and promiscuous positions and outfits than this, but still. There was just something about the sight of him, dress shirt sleeves rolled up over his elbows and svelte torso and legs so clearly in view, that made your heart rate quicken inside your chest.
"You're going to be late, you know."
Alastor all but crooned suddenly, snapping you out of your reverie with a few quick blinks and an awkward clear of your throat.
"Huh?"
You asked, sitting up slightly further as your lover began to leisurely unfold the clothing he'd laid out for you at the foot of the bed earlier that morning, no doubt all too aware of how slow you were prone to waking up and hoping to save some time.
The overlord chuckled, a subtle shake of his head highlighting his amusement as he looked in your direction once more, red eyes lingering in a manner that reminded you of just how tremendously the being standing at the end of the bed adored you.
He regarded you with a gentle and exasperated fondness as he replied,
"The reopening is today, dear heart."
He purred, grin as wide as ever as he approached further, extending his hand outward and helping to maneuver you so your legs were hanging off the side of the bed, ignoring the sudden panic in your expression brought on by his words and quickly silencing it before it could be vocalized with a quick press of his lips to yours.
He pulled away slowly afterward, index finger curling beneath your chin and lifting it to ensure you were looking him in the eye,
"And whatever would we do without our darling front desk receptionist there to woo our guests on sight?"
His tone was teasing now, lilting and oh-so amused as he took both of your hands in his and slowly pulled you upward and onto your feet, humming that same distantly familiar tune from earlier all the while.
"Not to worry though."
Alastor continued with a mocking tap of his index finger against the tip of your nose,
"With my help you'll be up and ready with time to spare."
He winked at that, instantly causing you to roll your eyes before knowingly bringing your arms up above your head, causing your love's grin to widen further at your immediate understanding of what was to come.
"Well look at you!"
He cried with feigned surprise and delight as he grasped gently at the hem of your sleep shirt, tugging it upward and over your head with a flourish before he knelt down before you and pulled your underwear downward just the same, his eyes never once leaving yours as he did so.
"You're becoming a regular pro at this, darling."
You scoffed a bit at that, though your lack of exasperation was made clear by the lifted corners of your mouth, never quite able to lay flat with your Alastor around.
Humming a different tune now, the sinner reached behind you on the bed to grasp at a new pair of undergarments for you, holding them open to make them easy to step into before pulling them up and rising with them, laying the fabric flat upon your hips before moving to help you with your bra.
Far too used to this process by now, you simply sighed and let your lover do as he would, your still tired body leaning into his every touch as he ran skilled fingertips up and down your spine and pressed them dexterously into the tense muscles of your shoulders until he felt you were sufficiently relaxed beneath his hands.
Once that was finished, he was quick to have you sit upon the bed, long fingers grabbing at your stockings and garters and bunching them up expertly before sliding them onto your feet and up your soft legs and thighs with ease, though he was notably slower with this task than he'd been with the previous two, taking his time to admire you and allowing his hands to feel your skin before covering it with the fabric in his grasp.
When he was finally satisfied with the state of your stockings, Alastor leaned back slightly, taking in the sight of you with a pleased smile and an ever adoring look in his eye before he placed twin kisses against the skin just above where your garters held your stockings into place, as if in farewell.
It was then and only then, with his desires to admire you satisfied (at least in part) that your beloved grabbed your work attire from the bed. It was something he had chosen for you himself when considering the concept of uniforms, a sweet yet professional looking black dress that you knew from having tried it on a few days prior fit you perfectly, (no doubt because your lover had long since memorized your measurements and given them to the tailor himself).
Pooling the rich fabric at your feet, Alastor looked up at you expectantly, and immediately, you stepped into the middle of it, allowing him to once more pull another garment up your body, rising with it as he had previously with your underwear until your arms were in the sleeves and all there was left to do was zip up the back.
Feeling the cool breeze upon your spine, you shivered slightly, the difference in temperatures striking.
"Al,"
You murmured, adjusting your hair to ensure it wouldn't get in the way of what came next,
"Would you mind?"
Immediately, the overlord was nodding in almost enthusiastic agreement, motioning for you to turn around for him to provide access to the still unzipped portion of your dress.
"Why of course not, dear heart. Let me see."
Blushing at the nickname in spite of it having seen years of persistent use, you did as you were told, turning 180 degrees until you were facing away from your lover, back bared to him so his deft fingers could easily find the gold trimmed zipper there.
Grasping onto the metal between his thumb and forefinger, the demon slowly began to tug it upward with a notable level of patience, his opposite hand moving to your shoulder to push at some of the fabric there until he'd created a patch of bare flesh to press a few soft kisses to, his teeth nipping at you ever so gently from time to time just to make you jump in surprise at the unexpected sensation.
This continued for a few quiet and very much appreciated moments until finally, the overlord moved away with a dramatized sigh, pulling the black fabric of your sleeve back over your shoulder before he finished zipping your dress up the rest of the way.
Hearing your darling take a step back from where he'd been standing just behind you, you were quick to turn around to face him, your smile growing brighter when you saw the immediate fondness and adoration in his eyes, that thinly veiled softness he reserved solely for you so very apparent that it made your heart lurch happily inside of your chest.
"What do you think, Al, am I presentable?"
You asked lightheartedly, giving him a slow spin as if wanting to make sure he saw every possible angle.
Alastor all but scoffed in response, though his eyes betrayed his affections far too obviously, making it easy to tell just how much he was enjoying your slightly slower morning together.
"Don't be silly darling, you're always the belle of the ball."
He teased, reaching out to take one of your hands in his eyes as he spoke, using it to tug you closer until you were nearly chest to chest with him, eyes widened in surprise.
The next thing you knew, his lips were on yours, warm, loving, and slow, before he finally pulled away with a sigh, expression contented and smile exceedingly genuine.
"Come on then, dear."
He said after a moment of silence, stepping away once more to guide you toward the bathroom attached to the room the two of you slept in,
"Let's finish getting you ready before Charlotte sends poor Vagatha after us for being so late."
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cupcakeinat0r · 1 month
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A Nerdy Middle-aged loser Miguel with a dad bod who teaches your genetics class
In celebration of 1k followers, I give you Pt.5 <3
Enjoy! - Cupcake
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Since that day you kissed Miguel on the cheek, the dynamic of y’all’s relationship had totally changed, but not drastically. Miguel was back to acting soft towards you, greeting you upon your somewhat late arrivals, getting you little gifts that reminded him of you, and the subtle exchange of glances in class.
Professor O’Hara was a little handsy during your tutoring sessions before, but now he was even more so, your little peck on his cheek was all the encouragement he needed. For sure, his job was on the line since anyone could’ve walked in and seen the two of you like this, but it was worth the risk. Just as long as you both acted this way in his office, the coast was clear.
The head messages had doubled, footsies was played underneath his desk, and he’d even find any excuse to have his hand on yours while you both worked independently, sitting in peaceful silence with each other. You found it hard to complete the research questions when his thumb kept caressing your knuckles, yet, you never protested. His flirt game was rusty, his advances limited to innocent touching and praise, but nonetheless, it was adorable to you the way he tried.
After that day in his office, tutoring sessions became less about tutoring and more just about being in each other’s company. Instead of spending an hour practicing formulas, you both would mingle while organizing the lecture hall or filing research papers. Anything to help Prof. O’Hara, or rather Miguel, since y’all are officially on a first-name basis.
A new development was when you started staying after to help him grade papers. The two of you would use this time to talk one-on-one more, no one there to interrupt. Miguel was just as handsy during this time, too. As mentioned before, he’d find any excuse to touch you, and in the most innocent ways. For example, if he saw a strand of your hair falling on your face while you were grading a paper, he’d simply tuck it behind your ear for you, or when the necklace he got you was crooked or facing the wrong side, he’d gently fix it for you while you spoke to him about one of your current interests, following along with low hums and ‘mhm’s. It’d make you blush and stutter mid-sentence, inflating his otherwise small ego.
Miguel wasn’t a very vocal person, you knew that, but you can see by his actions that he really really liked you. You continued to show your appreciation by leaving treats on his desk, keeping note that his favorite was black coffee and a quesito from the bakery he showed you on campus. A pastry not too sweet, and goes perfectly with a cup of cafécito.
But you were just too sweet and Miguel completely fell for it. He saw how eager you were to help other people in the class, and seeing how willing you were to stay with him to help him with anything you could. He admired that. It also confused him for so long because how has no one swept you off your feet? You were literally perfect? Certainly, people have tried, there’s no way he would believe that no one has. It’s apparent now that the both of you share feelings that are beyond platonic, it’s just a matter of time before someone makes the next move. Given the circumstances, for now, Miguel is taking things microscopically slow with you. He doesn’t wanna scare you off. The last thing he wants is to ruin his chance with you.
His feelings for you were growing, which slightly terrified him given that you are still, in fact, his student, no matter how grown you were. He couldn’t help it. His dreams about you were turning less lustful and more wholesome. When he sleeps, he would see himself coming home to you, cooking with you, reading books next to each other, or even cleaning with you. Just mundane day-to-day tasks, only they’re with you. Maybe for now, they’ll just stay in his dreams. Maybe.
<3
The lecture had just finished and you sent your new best friend, the transfer, away with a European farewell, kissing both of his cheeks. Without you knowing, Miguel watches on with an unamused smirk, remembering how he mistook your relationship with the transfer as a romantic one.
Before leaving the lecture hall, you strut towards Miguel to give him your now-routinely kiss goodbye (on the cheek, of course…). As you walk, you see that he’s crouched over his computer, tired eyes glossing over the screen. The fatigue of finals season is beginning to show on him, and it was a pitiful sight that made you purse your lips. Although it made you sad, you couldn’t help but let a small puff of air out your nose with how his glasses sat low on his nose. He never bothered to fix them, so you were the one who’d fix them oftentimes, and every time, he’d give you a small, “gracias, mama.”
You set down your bag, the thud of it hitting the floor finally stealing Miguel’s attention away from the blue-lit screen. He looks you up and down over his lenses, the small, fine lines of his face showing his age and you loved ittt.
“Sweetheart, as much as I love it when you stay and help, I’d be happier knowing you’re at home getting the rest you deserve.” He softly speaks, this version of himself that is so different from the one he presents in front of his class and colleagues.
“You worry too much, Miguel.” You plant yourself next to his chair, leaning down to get a better look at what on the computer has him so worked up. “Jesus, Miguel, no wonder you look sick.” You scroll through what seems like an endless list of students who signed up for office hours. With the amount that registered, Miguel would have to work even outside of his office hours.
From Miguel’s seated position, he has first-class access to your sweet perfume and a million-dollar view of your neck and chest, his mind wandering for a moment.
“Are you listening to me? This is ridiculous, there’s no way you’re cramming this amount of students… is there not another professor who could tutor as well?” the small raise of your voice is enough to bring his attention upward, not that that was any better of a view. Now, he was just looking at your lips, and how your lip plump makes them looks deliciously kissable. He imagined how’d they’d look if they were-
“Miguel O’Hara!” He blinks once or twice, gaining consciousness again, “Excuse me, uh, yeah, no, I’m the only one who can. For this class, I mean.” He rubs one of his eyes, letting out a sigh as he looks at the heavily packed schedule displayed on his desktop. “Anyways, it’s my responsibility. This was in the job description, so I gotta do what I gotta do.”
You roll your eyes in annoyance, hands on your hips, “Okay, but that doesn’t mean compromising your own health. There are healthy and efficient ways of doing your job, Mig.”
There’s that nickname he loved. He melted every time you used it, the familiarity of y’all’s relationship shining through the most when you did. He especially loved it when you were upset. He thought it was cute.
“Let me tutor some.” This snaps Miguel back to Earth, but this time, he’s in disbelief. “You’d tutor other students?” This was a rhetorical question, of course, he knew you were serious. He knew how big your heart was. He guessed he was just in disbelief because, once again, he was beguiled by the existence of a literal angel sent to Earth. He can’t believe he’s been blessed by your presence and friendship (?). You were so kind, so intelligent, so put-together, extremely gorgeous… you were utterly perfect.
“If splitting the work meant you got some sort of rest around here, then of course I would! Mig…” You grab the nearest chair and pull it to sit next to him, placing a hand on top of his. His hand relaxes under your touch, “You’ll work yourself to death like this.” You send a warmth onto his hand and up his arm you rub circles on his knuckles, the same way he does it to you.
“You’ve done so much for me, Miguel. Let me repay you, please? Please let me do this?” You bat your eyes, Miguel’s kryptonite.
Miguel turns his hand to intertwine his fingers with yours, seeing the genuinity in your eyes. He gives it a small squeeze before saying, “What did I do to deserve you, hm?” it comes out just above a whisper.
“Plenty, Miguel. You’re the hardest working man I’ve ever met,” you cock your head to the side, your eyes tracing the muscles of his broad shoulders, counting in your head all the possible knots buried deep in there,” Here, sit back, please.” You say sweetly, standing back up to travel to the back of his seat.
“What’re you up to?” His eyebrows raised, but he eased again when he felt your small hands massaging the crooks of his neck. “Sshhhh, just relax, Mig. It’s ok.”
He furrows his brows feeling the scrumptious pain of knots unfurling and tension melting away. You know you hit a good spot when he accidentally lets out small groans. You’re doing so good that it takes every thing in him to hold back any embarrassing moaning.
You can see his literal jaw unclench, happy to see him so relaxed. “Feel good?” You whisper in a sugary tone, Miguel nodding with his lips parted. With his eyes closed, you were able to closely examine all the features that make up his beautiful face. He was simply gorgeous.
“S’good mama… s’good…” he speaks under his breath as you knead out the stubborn knots on his neck. Once you feel like you’ve ridden all the points of tension there, you slowly work your toward his clavicle. He lets you unbutton the first three buttons of his polo sweater. With your whole hands, you apply pressure there, offering weighted comfort to the area.
Then you rub up and down slowly, the sensation of his chest hair tempting you to venture deeper down his thick torso. Due to the immense relaxation, Miguel’s head begins to fall back onto your stomach, so you step closer to give him extra support.
He hums when he feels both of your hands cup his face. You then remove his glasses so you can work on his temples. His eyes are still closed, but you can see his lips slightly curl, which makes you smile. You wonder what he’s thinking about,
Miguel is currently thinking about where he should get down on one knee for you. He’s thinking about what color you’d possibly want the cabinets to be in your shared home. He’s thinking about if y’all’s child will be as nerdy as him or as fashionable as you. Either way, he’d be the happiest man in the world. This train of thought is stopped by the sensation of your lips on his forehead. His heart stops as well.
Then he feels the soft smack of your lips on his left cheek, then his right, leaving behind a trail of lip gloss prints. Anticipating a potential fourth kiss somewhere specific, he slowly opens his eyes, your face inches from his. His head leans all the way back, resting against your stomach still.
It’s silent between the two of you. You both lock eyes, completely drowning in the other's gaze. No words were exchanged, but there didn’t need to be.
Seeing no other action fit for this perfect moment, Miguel raises his hand above him to cup your face, caressing your cheek with his thumb. You inch down closer, your heart racing. His is, too.
When your lips cannot move anymore without touching, in what would be considered “Spider-Man” style ;) , you both share a kiss, so sweet and innocent. The perfect first kiss. You’re the first to pull away, but not wanting to pull away just yet, Miguel pulls you back into his lips by adding his other hand to your head, extending the kiss just a bit longer. You weren’t complaining, you’d stay here forever if you could.
Feeling your knees getting weak, you shift all your weight onto Miguel, your hands traveling from the sides of his face back to his pecs underneath his sweater. This also deepens your kiss, so to deepen it even more, Miguel's hands wrap around the back of your neck. You both come up for air for just a mere second, Miguel breathlessly letting out a weak, “Please?”
knowing what he meant, slowly going back down again but this time, open-mouthed. Miguel groans into your mouth with the feeling of his tongue on yours, practically treating it like his lollipop. The kiss becomes hungrier with a nibble on your lip by Miguel, pulling on it while you get some needed air. It’s getting sloppy now, and your hands travel lower, meeting the softness of his belly. His breath hitches when he feels them there, half-expecting you to be revolted in any way, but your hands just sit there. In fact, you start messaging there as well, giving love to his whole body. Your hands drag up and down his whole torso with each wet collision of your lips. Your hands would go as low as the pudge sitting above his belt, all the way to up his knife-like jawline, and back down again, and repeat. It’s like you wanted him to know you worshipped his body, and Miguel wanted to show some in return.
Using his hands on the back of your head, he tapped you to pull away so that he could take your hand and guide you around his chair, pulling you to straddle his lap. “C’mere…”
Tongues are going down throats, moans are being heard, and hands are becoming desperate. The fingers tugging his hair, his hands squeezing the globes of your ass, him desperately lifting his hips to make some friction. It was like horny college kids fucking for the first time…. or at least maybe one of y’all felt that way. The other was just that. A horny college student.
There was no stopping either of you, except maybe for the knocking at the lecture hall door.
Both your heads snapped toward the thankfully semi-transparent, iced door. You scramble to get off Miguel’s lap, Miguel wiping your lip gloss off his face. You go to button his sweater and fix his hair as he calls out, “Just a moment.” You give him his glasses when you hear the voice of the student speaking about a tutoring session with Miguel through the door.
Miguel thinks he’ll go to the door, but he feels you grab his hand. “Hey,” you pull him in for one last peck, “I’ll take this one, mkay?” You smile up at him, a very dazed Miguel looking back at you. As far as he’s concerned, he’s floating right now.
“Anyways, it seems like someone,” you look down, motioning to the prominent bulge in his pants, “needs a moment to calm down.” You chuckle, practically gliding to the door as Miguel looks down at his excitement, wide-eyed and making his own way into his private office to… read about DNA Polymerase Replacement or something.
Want more Dadbod!Miguel? Here's my mastlist, bae!
A/n: I just wanted to thank you guys for 1k followers as well as all the appreciation on this lil story of mine<3 y’all so sweet n cewt, and it’s so much fun writing this fic n just writing in general! Ty for letting my creative juices fuel ur delulu <3 I also hope that this hot, wet, fat kiss made up for all the edging I’ve done, if not, sorry <3 Next chapter tho………….. but chu gotta stay tuned, yall hear meeeeee????
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marcsburnerphone · 3 months
Text
And they were roommates
(Captain John price x F!reader)
Summary: the captain wants somewhere more homely to settle down and when an offer like yours comes alight on Zillow he must take up on it.
Warnings: oral smut, sexual comments, awko moments, kissing?
part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5 - part 6- part 7 - part 8 - Part 9!!
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It was the best night of sleep John price has ever had in his life. He wishes deeply his early bird tendencies hadn’t woken him from it. You lay facing opposite of him with his chest pressed snuggly up against your back spooning you. He thought he was dreaming at first, or maybe he died and went to heaven, but your steady breathing and warm skin was much too authentic for that. 
He gently brushes the hair from your neck to kiss at the smooth skin, not in means to wake you, simply cause he just can’t help himself. 
“Goodmorning.”
“Didn’t mean to wake you.” He says while peppering kisses up to your jaw.
“Are you sure?” 
“Not anymore.” You turn over in your spot to face him, he’s a big man, a wall, even as he lays down. He peers down at you as you place a hand on his cheek. 
to your misfortune he’s borderline obsessed. 
“Shower with me?” He asks.
“Sure.” He pulls you with him as he rolls to get off the bed. He’s about to walk into his bathroom to get it started when he realizes you're about to walk out of his room.
“Where are you going?”
“To get my shampoo and conditioner.” 
“I have shampoo and conditioner.” You laugh, confusing him.
“John, I'm a hairstylist, I wouldn’t be caught dead using head and shoulders. I’ll be back.” He watches you leave, still not completely sure what you mean by that.
When you return steam has already filled the roof of the bathroom. You carry your toiletries in both your arms trying not to let anything drop. 
When John takes notice he goes to help you, except you’re not focused on the help he’s offering, you're focused on his bare chest, strong arms and slightly soft belly.
“There will be time for staring doll just not right now.” He says plucking your stuff from your hands. You roll your eyes at him trying to suppress the blush climbing up your neck. 
He undresses fully and steps inside waiting for you to do the same. Suddenly you feel awfully nervous while lifting your shirt. You pause when it gets to your rib cage suddenly feeling self conscious.
“You okay?” He notices your absence and peeks out of the glass door.
“Uh yeah.” You say, willing yourself to pull it over your head. Your pants come off next and you pray soap gets into his eyes so he doesn’t really look at you. 
You step in trying to keep your eyes on his out of politeness even though it feels like your eyes are magnets and the other magnet is in his southern region. He turns the two of you so you're the one mostly under the shower stream. His lustful gaze can’t help but look at the way the water runs down your shoulders and over your breasts.
“You’re shameless.” You say to him with a smile, you couldn’t feel self conscious under a gaze like that.
“Very.” He replies while leaning in for a kiss. He’s awfully warm, the shower at a temperature you like and one he’s not used to, but he couldn’t care less as long as he gets to have you like this. 
“Can I wash your hair?” You ask.
“If you let me wash yours.” You hum in agreement, grabbing your overly expensive bottle of shampoo and pouring some into his hands. You tell him to lather it in his hands before he puts it in your hair and he entertains it even though he bets it does nothing. Lacing his fingers through your hair he watches the way your shoulders relax and your mouth slightly parts. He tries to stop it, really he does, but he can’t help the way his cock begins to harden. He prays you don’t notice, not because he’s insecure, it’s a totally normal human reaction, but because he doesn’t want you to think he can’t enjoy a wholesome moment without getting turned on. 
“Feels good.” You sigh out as he begins to rinse it out. A groan is threatening to spill out and with all his might he is fighting it. 
When you open your eyes you notice the stone cold expression on his face. The way it looks like his eye slightly twitches for a second. And just like his human tendencies have troubled him yours too make you look down to see what may be the biggest dick in your life resting against his lower stomach. 
You look back up quicker than you looked down and it seems he hadn’t noticed. 
“Your turn.” You say scooting closely by each other so now he stands under the water. 
“I’m going to use my shampoo so you can see the difference.” You say as you pour some in your hands. It’s a bit of a reach to get all of his head so he slightly lowers it for you. You run your slightly long fingernails on his head scratching soothingly. He groans at the immensely good and foreign feeling as you make sure to not miss any hair. 
When you’re done he begins to rinse and this is the chance you take to really look at him from head to toe. Do you feel a little perverted, yeah you do.
“Look who has the staring problem now.” If John’s going to do anything he’s going to own it. 
“Who?” You say as you stand on your tip toes for a kiss. He gladly obliges, holding your head at an easier angle for him. You place a hand on his chest, which is normal, nothing that’d raise suspicion. Until it starts slowly dragging down his body. 
He's pulled apart from your swollen lips carefully watching your fingers continue to trail down. When they reach his happy trail you hesitate.
“Go on.” He says softly.
Your fingers softly brush against the soft velvety skin of his awfully gorgeous cock. Your mouth instinctively watering at the sight, and his falling open at the tease.
You grip him in a mostly closed fist giving a gentle squeeze. His hips jolt slightly forward as a pearl of precum appears at the tip. Impatiently you swipe the pad of your thumb over it bringing it to your lips. You sigh softly at the salty taste, spitting into your palm you bring your hand back down to his cock. You give him a firm stroke as your hand slightly shakes. His groans and shut eyes encourage you to continue. You find a steady pace as your hand dedicates itself to providing him pleasure. He tries to control his breathing but it loses its pattern when you quietly moan at the way it twitches in your grip. 
“You're so pretty.” You say quietly.
“Me or my cock?” He sighs out breathlessly 
“Both.” 
“Can I try my mouth?” You ask kindly he chuckles not humorously simply cause he can’t believe this is real life.
“I mean I don’t have too.” You say suddenly which he objects too.
“No, please.” He says watching the way your eyes light up. You waste no time lowering your knees onto the tile floor not caring about how they might hurt later on. 
You grab him eagerly, in your lustful subconscious nature you paint your lips with the tip. He squeezes his eyes closed to try and calm himself down but you’re doing nothing to help his case. 
“I’m losing it up here doll.” He says while leaning a hand against the wall for support. You begin to lick and suckle just to get comfortable, planning a course of action in your head.
Then you take him fully into your mouth bit by bit. His girth causes the dry corners of your mouth to slightly crack. Your eyes close as you try to focus. The sounds of slurping as you try to take him fully is sinful. He watches drool run down your chin and water droplets fall down your whole body almost cinematically. 
“You’re a sight.” He groans out when you pull him from your mouth to simply kiss from base to tip. It’s never been done to him and he would’ve never thought of it, but after that he’s not sure anything else can occupy his mind.
You suck him back in, determined to make him come. You might just want it as much as him. You're putting in your best work, ignoring the ache in your jaw. He has a hand on your cheek stroking the tears that fall from your eyes away. He tries to stop himself from thrusting into your mouth as your hand on his thigh flexes subconsciously. 
He’s so close but is greedily holding it in to keep his cock in your mouth for a bit longer. Your eye lashes bat up at him to watch his slackened features grunt and moan your name. With lidded eyes he watches the hand that once rested on your thigh slide down in between your legs, as you moan into him when he sees the way you slightly part them to give yourself an easier access.
“Mmmf fuck.” You hadn’t expected it quite yet, lost in your pleasure and his. 
He pulls from your mouth as his cum splashes onto your lips, cheek and for his personal pleasure your breasts. When he’s done he pulls you from the floor, sucking your slick fingers into his mouth with a satisfied groan before kissing you long and hard. It’s a mix of you and him as he pulls your tongue into his mouth. His thumbs rub his spend into your cheek like it’s a facial cream as he looks in your big eyes. 
“Shall we finish this elsewhere?” He says with a hand resting on the curve in your waist.
“As much as I’d love to, we can’t, I have to go grocery shopping and have to buy and restock some things at work.” You say with a small smile.
“But you haven’t gotten to finish?” He says with a little discontent.
“I don't need to.” You say giving him another quick kiss.
“That’s crazy.” 
“Make it up to me another time?” 
“Oh, yes” he couldn’t have been quicker with his answer.
“Very well then.” You laugh, grabbing your loofah which he plucks from your hands to pour soap on. He washes you tenderly, kissing every spot of your skin he swipes the sudsy soap over. He can’t help the way his eyes threaten to water at how ethereal you are to him. Call it the post clarity or whatever you want but he wants to put you in his pocket and take you everywhere. 
He doesn’t let you reciprocate the favor but does let you wash his back when the time comes. He leaves the water on for you as he steps out to grab his towel. When he returns with yours you turn it off and wrap yourself in it. 
You dress right then and there in the clothes you brought to his bathroom so you don’t have to suffer the cold. Grabbing your hair dryer to plug it in telling John to watch out for the noise. He dresses quickly and goes to the bathroom standing beside you at the his and hers sink. 
He puts on his beard oil keeping in mind that it’ll need a trim sometime this week. After that he just stands there and watches you do your thing. Admires the fact it’s being done in his bathroom. 
“May I join you?” He says amongst the noise. You click off the hair dryer after asking him “huh” for the second time so he repeats himself a third. 
“Of course.” You smile feeling a little giddy at the fact you’ll have his company. John’s not a man who seems to like to go out much nonetheless shopping. 
“Be ready in twenty?” He asks. 
“Yeah I’m just going to finish drying my hair and put on some makeup.” He nods, walking up to you to kiss your cheek before heading outside for a quick smoke.  
When you’re done he’s sitting on the couch watching whatever is on the news. You call for him from the front door and hear the silence from him clicking off the tv and his footsteps begin to approach you.
“Can I drive?” You ask hopefully.
“No.” 
The weather is beginning to become more livable and sunny. You settle into the seat as he shuts the door and gets in himself. Your hand rests above his on your thigh as the radio hums music. There is something so dreamlike about the feeling he has around you. Like the air is smoother and easier to breathe. 
“Where are we stopping first?” He asks, breaking the comfortable silence.
“My work so I can see what I need, beauty store, then groceries.” 
“Okay just let me know where to go once we get near.” He says giving your leg a gentle squeeze. You nod to him as his focus returns back to the road.
He gets out with you at your job, walks you inside passing up all the private booths of other hairstylists as you lead him into yours. He sits patiently on the chair a client would usually occupy and watches you take product out, put it back and write some stuff down. 
“Okay you ready.”
“Only if you are.” He says as you grab his hand and your purse to walk back out. That’s before you’re stopped by one of your coworkers who’s just walked out of her booth. 
“Hey, who’s this?” She asks, giving you a hug and nodding to John. 
“This is John, my roommate.” You reply softly as his hand on your waist tightens.
“Nice to meet you.” He says kindly.
“Yeah you too, so just roommates then?” You wish you could rewind time and keep her stuck in that room a little longer. Cause truthfully you and John technically still were just roommates.
“Um yeah.” You say trying to end this conversation. She glances down to his hand on your waist and then slowly back up you.
“Okay then, have a good day.” She says walking past the both of you. 
John hadn’t realized till this very moment that he hadn’t asked you to be his girlfriend or anything official. It’s actually kind of a sickening thought to him that you're not really his. I mean in a perfect world you’d walk around with his name above your head in neon lighting. So he conspires, he’ll drop you off at your little beauty store, leave quickly, buy flowers and cute things, hide them in his car, pick you up and go grocery shopping and cook dinner with you and ask you to officially be his. 
“John you okay?” You laugh as you wait for him to unlock the car. 
“Yeah doll sorry.” He says snapping out of it.
———
You're genuinely a little confused when he tells you he’s got some business to take care of real quick and drives away after you’ve made it inside. Not that you mind, you’ve shopped alone for forever now and it’s kinda therapeutic but it’s unusual. No more than twenty minutes pass by as you continue looking at all the new products from beloved brands that the doorbell jingles as someone walks inside. You don’t look up nor really pay it any mind till strong arms encompass you.
“Where’d you go?” You say looking up at him and the foolish smile on his face.
“Just handling some business.”
“Okay, I’m trying to decide between this conditioner or this one. I love the scent of this one but love the lather on this one.” You say holding up to large bottles showcasing them. 
“Buy both and mix em’.” He says grabbing them from you as he also takes the slightly heavy basket from your hands.
“Yeah right that’s way too self indulgent.” You say while trying to make up your mind. 
“Can I just buy them for you?” You look up at him in disbelief.
“Absolutely not.” You quickly decline his very generous offer.
“Why not?”
“Cause I’m a big girl who has money and should be able to pick a product.”
“I never said you weren’t a big girl with money, I just don’t see the need for you to choose when you can have both.” He retorts back. 
“No I’ll just get this one, fan favorite.” You say hesitantly putting it back and putting one in the basket then looking at your list to see what’s next. He lets you disappear into another aisle before grabbing it back off the shelf and hiding it under the other stuff in your cart. 
You shop for a while longer before heading to the cashier as the lady rings up your items. She makes small talk with you about your day and what not. As she nears the last items John asks you to run to the back of the store for that beard stuff he uses and you quickly do. She finishes up before you make it back and he happily takes his card out and pays for your stuff. 
“I don’t know which one because they all look the same.” you say handing him three different types of the same brand.
“It’s this one.” He says giving it to the cashier along with the extra two. 
“Wait John, where's my stuff?” You ask a little confused.
“In those bags.” He says nonchalantly as he pays for his one item telling the lady to have a good day. 
“I’ll pay you back.” You say as he grabs the bags, heading to the door and pushing it open with his back. 
“Don’t worry about it.” He says ignoring your persistence. 
“I am worried about it.” The bill on your restocks is always over six hundred dollars and you cringe at the idea of him spending that on you. 
“Well don’t.” He shrugs as he hands them to you once you're sat too put in the backseat. There’s no room for disapproval as he shuts your door and heads to his side. 
————-
“Have you been drinking my oat milk?” You ask him as you pass the dairy section in the grocery mart. 
“Oat milk?” 
“Yeah the one in the yellowish carton.” 
“I mean yeah I’ve been drinking it but I just thought it was flavored milk.” 
“No, it's non-dairy, made out of oats.” Although that slightly disgusts him he doesn’t say anything cause he’d enjoyed it up until now. 
You continue to shop around picking up things that you need and different snacks to try. You hate grocery shopping more often than you need to so now’s the time to stock up. 
“Can you grab that for me?” You say point at the top of a shelf for the detergent you use. He does with no complaints as he effortlessly plucks it off the shelf. 
You’re never out of his eyeline, he watches your every move along with everyone around the two of you. Although you don’t stray far from him it wouldn’t even be an option. He tried to trap you between him and the cart that he pushes but unfortunately you escaped quickly. 
“I pay this time, you pay the next.” He says as you load stuff up onto the belt. Although he knows you wouldn’t pay for a thing in his presence. 
“Deal.” It sounds fair to you. Once again he very happily pays and puts the grocery bags into the cart as you stand there and admire him. When you guys are done he tells you to sit inside and hands you his keys as he loads the stuff into the truck.
The drive home is mostly silent. His fingers trail shapes onto your clothed skin as you scroll on your phone looking at other people’s lives through a screen. He peeks over at you from time to time and you smile when you notice. 
When you pull into the driveway you begin to unbuckle your seatbelt and grab your purse. 
“Go on inside I can take our stuff in.” He says, not wanting you to see the stuff he has back there. 
“You know I can help, right?” 
“Yeah but you don’t need to.” He says leaning in for a kiss which you gladly entertain. His mustache scratches your upper lip slightly, it's becoming something you love.
“Ever the gentleman.” You say as he pulls away. 
“For you, always.” If you weren’t experiencing this first hand you’d be giggling and kicking your feet at the thought. 
“Okay.” You say smiling way too hard, something that’s been a recurring situation.
————-
“How do you like it cooked?” You say as you finish seasoning the steaks you guys bought at the store for tonight’s dinner. 
“Medium rare.” He replies, nearly drooling at the sight of you, hair messily put up, apron tied around your waist, as you concentrate all your attention on what’s in front of you. 
“Mkay.” You slightly sway your hips to the tune of the small radio playing music. 
“How’d you learn how to cook?” He asks.
“By spending a lot of time by myself and having a cook book obsession.” He smiles, very you esque.
“I’ll be back in a short minute.” He says as you move onto chopping potatoes. You nod in response as he walks down the hallway. 
As quietly as possible he sneaks back out to his car to grab the flowers, vase and earrings he bought you. And brings it inside walking slowly to his room. You’re too lost in thought to hear a thing. Potatoes in the pot of boiling water and steak in the pan. Your mind was occupied with one not over cooking anything and two not getting splashed by hot butter. 
“John.” You call out. You're thankful he heard you with one yell as he came down the hallway. 
“Yeah doll.” You turn to look at him and tilt your head in confusion when you see a leaf stuck to his half shirt.
“Was just going to ask for help in dumping the water.” You say ignoring it. 
“Of course.” He says walking up to you grabbing the mitts you offer him that were a bit too small for his large hands. He picks up the heavy pot with ease as he drains it. 
“Were you outside or something?” You say noticing another leaf on his pants. 
“No, why?” He asks as he sets the pot back on the burner.
“You have leaves on you.” 
“Oh not to worry, must've gotten there when I brought the groceries inside earlier.” 
After that you pay it no mind as he returns back to whatever he’s doing. You finish cooking and set the table for you two. You plate the food and call for him again. He panicked when he heard you, although he’s going to wait till after dinner. What if you say no? What if you're not ready for a relationship, let alone with him.
“John.” You yell again, he hears your footsteps coming towards him and quickly leaves his bedroom.
“Sorry, I was just picking up.” You know for a fact it wasn’t messy when you guys left. Regardless he follows you back down the hallway and into the kitchen. You two sit in your now assigned seats.
“Looks great, Thankyou doll.” He says caressing your chin affectionately.
“You're welcome.” You watch him take his first bite waiting before you take yours, gauging his reaction then getting distracted by how wide his legs spread out, so much so that they peek out from under the table. 
“Keep looking at me like that and I’ll have to enjoy dessert first.” You look away quickly, beginning to eat your own food. The first 5 minutes is silence that’s filled with chews and clinking. 
“I think I’ll reopen bookings next month.” You say randomly as the reoccurring thought occupies your mind. You took some time off work to get some rest and have been enjoying it too much.
“That’s interesting, what for?” You laugh softly before looking up at him. 
“Because living isn’t free?” It could be for you, he thinks. 
“I could always pick up more bills.” He doesn’t want to push the topic knowing you don’t like to talk about it.
“Or I could just get back to work.” That’s your way of ending the conversation, he ends up finishing way before you do and sits back with a satisfied sigh chatting about some kind of camera he wants to put outside.
“I’m full.” You say pushing your plate away. You’re about to stand up and collect the plates before he stops you.
“Allow me.” He says grabbing them and setting them inside the sink, he washes them quickly and puts them in the drying rack before turning to do the pans you used. 
He’s deep in thought about how he’s going to ask you but  snaps out of it when he feels two arms wrap around his waist and slide under his shirt, then your head on his mid back. It’s so subtle yet so affectionate and foreign to Jonathan Price that he just wants to melt.
“You smell good.” You whisper as you stick your nose deeper into his shirt.
“Thank you?” He laughs.
“I’m sleepy.” You say as he reaches for the kitchen towel to dry his hands.
“Well before we head to bed I’ve got something for you.” Your head perks up curiously. He turns around and smiles softly at your drowsy eyes yet wide smile.
“What?” 
“Well follow me and I’ll show you.” He’s wringing his hands as you both walk toward his room.
“Okay, close your eyes.” He says and you do.
You're both in his room now, you hear him shuffling things around or something of the sort as you stand there patiently.
“Okay, open them.” Once your eyes adjust you see him standing there with a gorgeous bouquet of flowers and a little box. 
“Will you be my partner?” You tilt your head at the question until you realize he’s asking you to be his girlfriend.
“Your girlfriend?” 
“Doll, I'm too old for that.” 
“Yes then I’ll be your partner.” You laugh, grabbing the flowers from him. 
“Open this.” He says handing you the small box and taking the bouquet of flowers to set them down on his dresser. Nervously you flip the top open as your eyes go wide. 
“John, these are beautiful.” You say looking at the pair of small paint brushes with a diamond as the bristles.
“Pretty things for a pretty lady.” He says reaching to push a strand of hair behind your ear.
“This is too much.” You whisper truly admiring them, for a man who doesn’t believe in fate finding those in the small jeweler right next to the flower shop is the closest he’s come to it after meeting you. 
“Nothing is too much when it comes to you, doll.” You close the box, setting it down. You look at him for a couple of seconds just admiring the man that’s been nothing but a blessing to you. 
“What?” 
“Kiss me.” It’s nothing sexual, it’s purely out of affection. The way you feel light as a feather beneath his touch, as he feels real against yours. He’s so enamored in everything you, loves the way you breathe, smell, move, laugh he’s obsessed with everything. 
You feel like the heavens have sent him to you. He’s safe, warm and everything you’ve ever wanted. He cares for you truly. He holds you tenderly and gives you all the attention you crave, and you don’t even have to ask for it. 
“Can we sleep in my room tonight?” You say when he pulls away. 
“Yeah, but why?” 
“I feel like this is too boyish for me, I need to see my plants and sleep in my matching sheets with my thousands of pillows.” He laughs as you put your vase of flowers in his hands and lead him towards your room.
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Thankyou for reading, truly you guys are the greatest motivation to contune writing known to man - All my love
comments and reposts are deeply appreciated<3
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red-riding-wood · 4 months
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I Want You to Want Me
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Pairing: Neil Lewis x F!Reader
Fandom: Watching the Detectives
Summary: Neil receives a frantic call and finds you outside of Gumshoe after a date night gone wrong. Secretly habouring feelings for you ever since the two of you met, he finds you oddly irresistable in your tears and torn fishnets.
Warnings: SMUT, mutual pining, dub-con touching, dryhumping, riding, foreplay, teasing, begging (m), masturbation (m), clothed sex (semi), Neil being a wet paper towel, so just Neil being Neil, pervy Neil, switch!Neil, slight dom but mostly sub!Neil because c'mon guys it's NEIL, slight dom!reader, body worship, public sex (technically?), premature ejaculation (sort of?), angst, some fluff? by my standards anyway lol so take that with a grain of salt -- this ended up being more wholesome than I thought it would be
Inspired by this cover of I Want You To Want Me (the reader's song) and Creep (Neil's song) by Radiohead.
Huge thanks to @your-nanas-house for getting me started with a prompt for this and cheering me on!
Totally nicked the "jock boyfriend" inspo from @cillianmesoftlyyy's fic here; go check that out if you want more spicy Neil content, because it was fantastic!
And thank you and also fuck you to @rysko for dramatically beta reading this in my ear WHILE I WAS TRYING TO MAKE THE HEADER
And now that I'm done thanking every fic writer on tumblr, my parents, the Royal Society for the Prevention of Birds, and Saturn and all of its rings, enjoy your filth!
WC: 4239
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He found you outside the back door of Gumshoe, huddled against the concrete step, the cool air of the spring night nipping at the wet tears that streaked your cheeks, the slight breeze stirring a shiver from one fretful limb to the next. The whites of your eyes burned red beneath the faint glow of the lanterns atop the neighbour’s picket fence. It wasn’t exactly the most incognito place to cry your eyes out, but you didn’t have a key to Neil’s store, and it was nearly three in the morning. 
“Hey, I got your call. What’s going on?” A familiar voice broke the pitiful sounds of your sobbing, and the tension of your shoulders eased if only slightly at the mere sound. 
You tried to answer past your sobs, but found that your words came only in hiccups, in broken fragments of your splintered heart, and it didn’t take long for him to sweep an arm around your shoulders, lowering himself to sit beside you on the cold step. Instinctively, you found yourself leaning into his touch, trembling against the warmth of his body. 
Neil was never really great at these sorts of things to begin with, but it certainly didn’t help that his attention was drawn to the low-cut top where a tear streaked down the groove of your breasts, to the fishnets that you’d torn on your way out the door of your boyfriend’s, to the short skirt that rode up just enough for him to catch a glimpse of the lace hem of your panties. 
He swallowed, his throat suddenly dry, and he tried to keep his eyes on the face you so desperately tried to hide with your trembling fingers, for you were ashamed of your unkempt appearance. You must’ve looked like a cheap whore – a mess of one, no less. You couldn’t tell what was more embarrassing: the way you were dressed, like you were begging for attention, or the way your emotions seized you so cruelly that you could scarcely breathe. 
“Hey.” His warm, careful touch landed on your wrist, and as you pulled your fingers from your lashes, they came away black with smudged mascara. “I’m here,” your friend said. “Tell me what happened.”
You could still only speak in hiccups and broken vowels.
“Shhh,” Neil soothed you, fingers running up and down your spine, sending tiny shivers through each nerve as the fabric of your shirt bunched and his skin brushed yours. “Shhh. I’m here.”
Resting your head on his shoulder, your hair spilled in sticky threads over the jacket that, judging by the slight musty scent that lingered in the weave of the corduroy, had probably missed one too many washes. But you didn’t care. You’d come to appreciate the little imperfections about him, the details of his scent that made Neil Neil. Like the waxy tinge that seemed to always cling to his fingers after a long shift of rolling back tapes. Like the silk cream and smoke of the vanilla candle you’d gifted him last week. Like the artificial scent of cheap shaving cream and the slightest hint of blood where he’d nicked himself with the razor. The musk of his sweat and skin, buried beneath all these little things that you’d come to know almost as intimately as your own.
But there was something else, something you couldn’t quite pinpoint. And its unfamiliarity unnerved you.
His other hand came to rest on your knee, hot as fire in the cold of night. He thumbed at the tear in your fishnets and looked at you with bright, concerned eyes, but he used this as an excuse to touch you.
“Did he hurt you?” Neil asked. His hand stayed on your knee. In a way, it felt comforting; it grounded you enough so that, finally, after lulled by the rise and fall of his shoulder and the unique blend of his scent, you could speak.
“Is that cologne?” You wrinkled your nose and drew back to look him in the eye, your tangled hair peeling reluctantly from his corduroy jacket.
A rose blush came upon Neil’s cheeks, and he smiled nervously. He’d been sure to spritz himself with a good helping of it before he left, despite his hurried state. He needed to impress you; ever since you’d started dating that jock from across the street, he’d been trying to find more ways to steal your attention back.
“Yeah, it’s new,” he said, a little flustered, in a way that made your stomach flutter. “I wanted to ask for your opinion on what I should get, but you – well…” His voice cracked a bit as a hint of sadness crept into his tone. “… you’ve been pretty busy lately.”
“It’s awful,” you told him, laughing slightly, and your words seemed to cheer him up; his lips tugged into that playful grin of his again, and a deep chuckle rumbled from his throat.
And then you both fell into silence, and he looked back to your knee, still thumbing the skin where the fabric had torn.
“You didn’t answer my question,” Neil said.
You swallowed, another lump forming in your throat, and when you looked at him, bottom lip in your teeth, reddened eyes pouting, rimmed by your messed mascara, his heart sped in his chest in both fear and arousal. The thought of James even touching you boiled his blood, made his skin crawl and tightened a noose round his neck, but seeing you like this, baring your soul to him with those tear-brimmed eyes and mournfully upturned brows, it made him want you even more.
If he’d been the one to take you out tonight, he would’ve brought you home to his bed, worshipped each inch of your hallowed skin and made love to you like you were the only woman in the world, splayed his fingers across your thighs and parted them like a sea, dropped to his knees and prayed with the hungered strokes of his tongue and lapped at your holy waters.
He’d started reading poetry lately. It had felt right; it was the only thing that seemed to express just how he felt about you. Echoed the words in private like they were gospel; chanted your name from desperate lips as he palmed himself each night – and morning – to your photographs, to the vanilla of the candle that reminded him so much of you, to the fantasy of your sweat-slicked thighs wrapped around his waist, your walls clenched around him as he bucked his hips against your weight and finally let himself go, spilling himself inside you and hearing you moan so sweetly for him from those heavenly lips, feeling his own cum dampen his stomach as you collapsed over him. He always knew you’d be so tight, that you’d fit so perfect around him.
But sitting here, staring at your shivering, impotent form in your torn fishnets and your skimpy attire, he could barely contain the urge to tear open your knees and fuck you against the concrete. It had been so long since he’d even been this close to you; James took up all of your time nowadays, and gone were the late movie nights and stolen games of basketball on the breaks he took so liberally.
He missed you. So much.
And you knew it. You knew it, deep in your chest where the remnants of your heart twisted, still hearing the words, “You’ve been pretty busy lately.”
You shook your head, choking out another sob as shame crept along your skin, and you shivered at its grotesque touch. “No, he didn’t hurt me… not – not in that way.”
You couldn’t look at him; his pearlescent blue eyes and his sun-kissed freckles and his boyish brown locks all fading into memory as you buried your face in his chest, inhaling once more the faint scent of his laundry detergent and the musk of him beneath the shirt that was flipped inside-out but still outlined the blatant logo of Back to the Future. Whether he hadn’t realised he’d put it on backwards or he’d been shy about it, you couldn’t be sure, but it lightened your heart all the same, your sobs turning to giggles.
Neil pulled you closer, his chin resting along the nape of your neck and his hand running up your thigh; you barely noticed how near his hand was to your panties as you tugged at his shirt, nails sinking past the fabric as if to keep him and never let him go.
You regretted all that time you’d spent with James, when you should have been spending it with him instead. Everything felt so much easier with him; your smiles were broader, your laughter more carefree.
But you wanted more – selfish and lovesick, you wanted more than what he already gave you. You needed more than his attention and his friendship.
You needed him to want you.
“I thought that…” You sniffled. “… I thought that James wanted me. I dressed up all… nice… fucking whorish… and I thought tonight was finally the night and that he would’ve… that he would’ve…”
The words twisted in your throat, and you squeezed your eyes shut. Two hours ago, when you did up your makeup and clothes for your date with James, you’d felt sexy. Powerful, even.
Now, you just felt worthless.
Neil nestled his nose in the crook of your neck, brushed the silk strands of your hair aside, breathed your scent in so deeply that for a moment, the butterflies came back to the pit of your stomach.
“I just want to be wanted,” you admitted, losing it, sobbing uncontrollably into the now-damp shirt that clung to his thin frame. “I just want to be desired. That was the only reason I was with him, Neil. The way he looked at me that day when he came into the store, I…”
With a bitter pang in his chest, Neil remembered that day. The way James had looked at you like you were a piece of meat. The way he’d asked you if had any recommendations on which sports film he should rent and Neil had practically wedged himself between the two of you and started chattering to James about every little piece of trivia he knew about Chariots of Fire and Rocky. How, despite his efforts, James had still gone home with your number as well as the tapes. How you’d come in the next morning with a hickey on your neck and Neil had just known that where James had paused one of the tapes was when your movie night was likely cut short by… things he’d rather not think about ever again.
It should’ve been his couch you’d been curled up on, should’ve been him watching the movie with you. His mark on your neck.
And he would’ve picked something a little more fitting for the mood, too. Something more like Casablanca or Sin City. It was as if James didn’t even have to try to get you drooling over him. What was so special about him, anyway?
I wish I was special, Neil thought.
Neil’s grip on you tightened at the memory, nails digging in to the flesh of your thigh in a way that stirred a little gasp from your lungs, huffing against his collarbone as you tilted your head up to look at him.
“Y/N.”  His breath caught in his throat, and he reluctantly pulled from your neck to look you in the eye, locks of messy hair falling across his forehead and his eyes half-lidded. His fingers ghosted up your thigh, and you blinked past the sharp mint of his mouthwash – it burned your eyes slightly, but you didn’t care. You were so close to him, your breaths became one, a few threads of his hair tickling your cheeks and his nose brushing yours.
“Neil,” you breathed, the slightest of smiles tugging at your lip as your heart thudded between your legs, dangerously close to his fingers. Warmth spread across each fevered limb, taking you somewhere past the cold concrete and bitter chill of the wind, somewhere away from the graffiti-painted alley and the reek of broken booze bottles. Somewhere safe, and warm, and thrilling all at once.
“You’re so fucking beautiful.” Neil’s voice cracked around the words, a nervous laugh huffing against your fluttering lashes as his freckled cheeks darkened another shade of red. The hand that wasn’t between your legs played with a lock of your hair, twirling it in his finger but still supporting you beneath a quivering arm.
You couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t believe this was real.
He had to have been playing some sick joke, right?
But the whimper that fell from his lips was very real, as his nails dug into your flesh again and he tugged you closer, his hips arching upward against your outer thigh.
“You look more than nice. You’re so fucking hot in this skirt, in anything you wear. That asshole is fucking blind,” he breathed, fingers grazing your panties and landing over your hipbone, testing the waters more and more as he tried not to rock his growing arousal too obviously against you.
But you noticed. You noticed the way his cock hardened and twitched beneath your weight; you noticed how even despite his body trembling from his attempts to resist his primal urges, his hips still gave little bucks upward, seeking friction. Seeking the heat that flared between your thighs, that ached for him so desperately that it was all you could do not to return the favour.
He couldn’t take it anymore. Staring into those gorgeous, bright eyes. Looking up at him with anything but innocence. So he scooped both hands around your ass, squeezing the flesh and lace and tugging you properly onto his lap with an alluring squeal tearing from your full lips.
“I want you, Y/N.” His hot breath pooled at your collarbone as he trailed wet, sloppy kisses along your jaw, your neck, and your lips parted in another gasp, back arching and thighs clenching around his waist as you ground wet panties against the bulge in his trousers.
“I fucking need you,” he whined, nipping like a needy puppy at the delicate skin of your neck. “Always have.” Another kiss. “Ever since I first saw you. Long before James.” A possessive growl stirred from his throat at that, the flare of dominance sending a jolt through your core.
“Neil, I – oh my God.” A moan broke your words as his fingers moved up your spine and his teeth grazed your collarbone, hovering over your pulse point.
“Fuck, baby. Say that again. Just like that.” His fingers began rolling your shirt up over the lip of your breasts, the sight enough to make him whine again in need. He couldn’t help himself from groping you, squeezing your breasts and rolling one nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Bending his neck to trail more sloppy kisses down your torso, they were his next destination.
“Oh my – Neil. Neil, I – “ You had so much to tell him, so much you needed off your chest, but his hips bucked sharply against you at the sound of his name moaned so beautifully, a low groan in his throat and his cock digging slightly inside your heat, the fabric of your panties scraping almost painfully against your walls.
“Please, Y/N, please don’t make me stop. Please let me keep touching you like this. I wanna worship you.” His hot breath shattered against a pert nipple. “Wanna fucking prove to you how much I want you.”
For a few moments, you were rendered speechless, mind whirring like the wheels on a VHS. Everything was happening so fast, and the warmth of his touch was seeping into you like honey, inundating you in a sort of comforting flame.
He could almost smell the vanilla of the candle wick burning.
You left nail marks down his chest where you clawed at the collar of his shirt, but he didn’t care. He sucked a nipple past his teeth and moaned around the taste of you, the sound so filthy that your eyes nearly rolled back in your skull as your parted lips tipped to the heavens. His name outlined by their perfect shape.
Reality came crashing down around you as you jumped, another squeal leaving your tongue as his teeth bit at your nipple and pain shot along your nerve endings.
“I’m sorry,” he breathed, chest heaving, looking up at you with reverent eyes. “I didn’t mean to, I – “
You cupped his chin in your palm and shook your head. “No, Neil. I’m sorry.” A tear streaked down your cheek, beaded on your jawline. “I’m so, so sorry.” You were beginning to sob again, and his brow furrowed in concern, thumb beginning to trace small circles along your spine. “I’m sorry I abandoned you for James, I didn’t… I shouldn’t have. I didn’t know you felt this way, I – I’m so sorry.”
“Nothing to be sorry for,” he told you, his words sinking into your skin like a warm tide. With one hand, he brushed the tear from your jaw and wove his fingers into your hair, pulling you closer. “Just let me keep touching you. Please.”
When you didn’t respond for a moment, caught up in the way his blue eyes seemed to hollow with a certain hunger, the way his chest rose and fell beneath the bare flesh of your stomach, he uttered that word again:
“Please.”
You smiled, elated and giddy with joy, blood pounding with arousal, and kissed him, threading your own fingers into the fluffy locks of his hair.
Another tear streaked across your lips as they met his, and you tasted like salt and vanilla, slightly waxy from your chap-stick but the sweetest thing he’d tasted nonetheless. At first, he was embarrassed by the noises he made, the way he’d accidentally called you “baby” because he’d always wanted to do so, but he melted beneath you like butter. Nothing mattered anymore except the fact that you were finally his, that you were in his arms and grinding against his cock.
Neil broke the kiss to pull your shirt over your head, tossing it aside somewhere on the concrete – he would buy you a new one. His hands flattened against your back and pulled you flush to his chest, taking any excuse he could to hear that little squeal you made each time.
“Please, baby, please let me be inside you,” he whined, biting his lip as he stared up at you with those powder-blue eyes. Nails dug into your skin. Hips bucked against yours.
Your heart soared with his words, his worship, his want; you’d never been this ecstatic in your whole life. Part of you wanted to keep teasing him, make him beg, while another part of you ached to feel him buried to the hilt inside you.
“Patience, Neil,” you giggled, as you undid his trousers. You worked them down to his knees and your eyes widened as your hand brushed his cock, bare and springing flush against his stomach. You hadn’t expected him to not wear boxers.
Neil smiled sheepishly up at you, eyes still lidded, mouth still panting out a fevered breath. “I was in a rush getting dressed. I…” His cheeks reddened, and there was something so cute about how pathetic he looked in that moment. “You wanna know how much I want you, Y/N? I was touching myself thinking of you when you called.”
Creep, some voice in the back of his head hissed.
You bit your lip to suppress a moan, trying to ward off thoughts of Neil stroking himself to you, finishing to the thought of you. Oh, how you wished you could have witnessed the sight.
“Did you come?” you asked, a devious grin pulling at your lips as you took him in your hand, massaging a bead of pre-cum into his sensitive flesh.
His eyes fluttered, and he shook his head, his words coming out as a breathy whine,
“No, I promise. I didn’t come. Not yet.”
“Will you?” You dipped your head to let your words tickle his neck, your grip on him tightening.
“Yes,” he moaned. “Yes, yes, oh God, I will. Fuck, baby. Fuck, gonna come if you don’t stop that, need to come inside you, please, please…”
His mutterings trailed off into a low hiss of a whine, and your movements stilled, dragging him to his peak and letting him teeter at the edge as you both caught your breaths, chest heaving and a cold chill racing down your sweat-slicked back, thighs trembling around him.
“You sure you can handle this?” you purred against his ear before pulling back once more to witness the shivering mess you’d made him, priding yourself in your accomplishment. Lining his cock up with your entrance, the fabric of your panties scraped his tip teasingly as you slotted them to the side.
Neil looked up at you like you were some kind of goddess, his breathing coming laboured, his throat stripped of words. The dazed, blissful look he gave you was all the answer you needed. But you wanted to reap him of every last praise he had.
“Use your words, Neil,” you giggled, smirking.
“Ah…” His lips parted, near soundless. You watched intently as they formed the word “Please”.
You almost felt bad for him.
But it wasn’t pity that brought your hips down around him, slowly, teasingly, savouring the stretch of him against your walls and the fullness in your belly, but rather, your own need.
Neil’s head rolled back against the brick wall, blood welling at his lip where he bit it to keep himself from toppling over his peak; he nearly did it to himself when he bucked his hips upward, burying himself inside you, making you whimper at the pain that blended so sordidly with the pleasure. Your fingers tugged at his hair, and your nails grazed his scalp, and every little sensation sent him into overdrive. He used these little things to ground himself, as you had his tangled scents; he focused on how smooth your stomach felt against his own, his shirt hiking up so that you were skin to skin; he focused on the noises you made, huffing and whimpering, as you began to ride him; he focused on the softness of the breast that he cupped in his hand. Tried not to think about how you felt better than he’d imagined, how you clenched so tightly around his cock that he was almost pushed out each time you elevated your hips, but were so wet for him that he slid back inside so seamlessly each time.
“Neil,” you moaned as you fucked yourself on his cock, breast bouncing beneath his thumb, skirt fluttering around the bareness of his thighs. “Neil, fuck. Fuck.”
“Baby, I’m s—sorry. I’m gonna…”
You yelped again as pain shot deep inside your core, his hips bucking against yours with a violence you hadn’t known sweet Neil from the VHS store to possess, bottoming out inside you as his nails dug into the now-abused skin of your back and pulling you close, so close you were panting over his shoulder and his breath shattered against your ear. The hand that had been cupping your breast shot up to cradle your head, petting your hair.
He held you to him so tight, you didn’t think he’d ever let go. And you couldn’t have been happier.
Warmth spilled around his cock, sticky against your thighs, painting your insides white. You shuddered around him, balling his hair into a fist and digging your own, sharper nails, against his back.
“I didn’t mean it to be over so fast,” he mumbled into your neck. “I just… you’re so… fuck, I’ve been waiting for this for so long.”
“So have I,” you breathed. You practically hugged each other, shivering in the night air but content in each other’s warmth. “Don’t worry.” Pulling away slightly, you smiled down at him, cheeks flushing bright red. “If anything, it… it’s endearing.”
“Really?” he chuffed out a laugh.
“It…” you looked down, unable to meet that crystalline gaze. “It makes me feel wanted.” You pecked a quick kiss to his jaw, and could’ve sworn you saw love in his eyes when you pulled away.
“God, you’re perfect.” His voice broke again as his lips sought yours, and his breath hitched in his chest when the action caused you to rock your hips forward, a new sensation he’d never felt before buzzing along his skin. His mouth hung open and you laid kisses to his lips, his jaw, the Adam’s apple that bobbed along his throat. He felt his cock stiffen again inside you, already eager for Round Two.
“I should take you home,” he murmured, hands running up and down your sides. “You must be so cold.” As if just realising that he still had his jacket on, Neil shrugged it off in haste and wrapped the heavy material around your shoulders. A chill ran down your spine, as the material was damp with sweat – you smiled at how predictably forgettable he was when he had a woman on his lap, just as you’d imagined –, but his scent soothed you.
Though you were cold, it was a small sacrifice to make to stay here, with him buried so deep inside you that you felt dizzy in the head. Depleted of your energy and sinking into his warmth, you smirked, and rested your chin on his shoulder.
“I was thinking of just staying like this a while,” you admitted.
“Whatever makes you happy,” he breathed, hugging you even tighter. “Whatever you want.”
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A.N. Sorry if this was a bit rough, guys. I smashed this one out the other day because I was tired of my writer's block.
I actually laid into some themes that I was planning on using for a Dark!Neil fic based on the song "Creep" which I don't know when I'll get around to writing, but let me know if you guys would like to hear more about the idea for the series or are interested.
MASTERLIST • REQUEST
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471 notes · View notes
sukun4s · 1 year
Text
yummy
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Possessive! Dom! Ethan Landry x Sub! Reader (smut)
Synopsis: You make Ethan jealous after a party, so he had to take out his anger on you somehow.
A/N: This isn’t the first smut i’ve ever written but it’s the first one i’ve ever publicly posted. 😭 My notes app is full of them lmfao. I hope y’all enjoy this bc this gets pretty nasty lmfao. ALSO USE A CONDOM YALL.
This Fic Contains: spit kink, degrading, slight dumbification, slut shaming? idk?, ETHAN RIPS YO CLOTHES OFF, choking, dacryphilia, unprotected sex, choking on fingers hehe, face grabbing, spanking, creampie, hair pulling, fingering, squirting, mentions of alcohol, reader is a bimbo in this too, size kink hehe, face slapping, wholesome aftercare
The door being slammed behind you is what made you realize, you were fucked.
“Listen, I didn’t want to make a scene back there but if you would’ve just stopped playing dumb, then maybe I wouldn’t have had to!” Ethan yelled as he hightailed you while you sped over to your bedroom.
Earlier, you attended a college party with Ethan and the rest of your friends. You weren’t even drunk but the alcohol helped you be less nervous at that party. You were dressed in the tightest mini skirt ever that even the slightest movement showed off your lacy white panties, and Ethan wasn’t going to have any of that especially with you on the dance floor.
He noticed that a ton of guys were captivated by you and your outfit, so they took the chance to dance with you. You thought nothing of it and simply thought they were being nice.
But of course, Ethan knew what was going on through their heads. They just wanted a chance to have their way with you.
Ethan couldn’t watch his girlfriend get between a bunch of guys, so he instead shoved through the people at the party and grabbed your hand.
“We’re leaving.” Ethan urged in a very low tone.
“Woah! Already? We just got here E!”
Ethan was already pissed off and you did not need to make it worse.
“We’re leaving Y/N!”
You swiped your hand away from him and stood there. “Hey! What’s your deal?!”
Ethan turned around and glared at you. “My deal?! You’re letting other guys touch up on you while you’re dressed like that!” You were fuming at this point.
“Fine. You can leave then! You’re no fun at all.” You we’re about to turn around before Ethan grabbed your wrist this time and pulled you through the crowd of people which caused you to get weird stares as you were dragged out.
The entire walk home, you were complaining about how Ethan just embarrassed you.
Eventually that led to him snapping at you back at your dorm.
You tried to close the door behind you before Ethan got into the room first.
“You’re my girlfriend. Not anyone else’s. Got that?” Ethan growled as he grabbed your wrist again, this time tighter than before.
You whimpered slightly at the pain. “E-Eth’ that hurts-“
He then pulled you in by your throat, shoving you onto your bed and quickly sliding down your skirt. You sit up on your elbows in surprise as you watch him rip off your panties. You squeal out in surprise and are quick to try to cover yourself from the cold air.
Ethan grabs your wrist again and pins it aside as he stares at your extremely tight top.
“I bought you that didn’t I. I don’t think all those other guys would spoil you like I do.”
At first, he gently slid his hand on your breast, staring at your hard nipples, noticing you weren’t wearing a bra before ripping off your top too.
“That was my favorite!!“ You whined.
He scoffed and threw it aside. “I’ll buy you a new one.”
He then sat up on his knees, towering over your small frame. Ethan then grabbed your hair by the scalp and pulled you up toward his face as he growled in your ear. “If you fucking move, or try to touch yourself, I swear you won’t be able to walk tomorrow.”
You could feel your tight hole already soak at the thought of that. You could feel yourself pulsing as you breathed heavily.
Ethan took his toned hand and gently pressed one finger against your already pulsating pussy. He then slid it down your slit and felt the wetness between your folds.
“Fuck. Aren’t you just a sweet dumb thing. Already wet by my words? Or are you thinking about what i’ll do to you next?“
You couldn’t even speak as he kept your hair in between his knuckles and kept sliding his index finger up and down your slit.
“Answer me.” He then slapped your pussy, causing you to jolt and bite your lip, holding in a moan.
“Y-Your words Eth’…”
Ethan grinned as he slowly shoved his index finger into your tight pussy.
“Such a good cumdump.”
You tightened around his index finger already as he shoved his middle finger in as well.
He gave no warning as he suddenly sped up and started fingerfucking you. You wailed out as he rammed his fingers in and out of you making your body arch and squirm as you could do nothing but hold onto the bedsheets. The way he would drill his fingers in and out would make you go insane. He then grabbed you by your face and squeezed your cheeks.
Your eyes glimmered as it signified pleasure and you, already fucked out, rolled your eyes to the back of your head.
“F-Fuck…fuck…fuck..!!”
Ethan grinned at you and shoved his two fingers into your mouth, still keeping a tight grip on your face meanwhile darting his fingers in and out of your tight and gushy pussy, constantly hitting the spots that made you jolt and yelp the most.
His index and middle fingers went deep into your mouth that it hit the back of your uvula, making you slightly gag and choke on them as tears already formed in your eyes, ruining your mascara.
You were now like a piece of artwork to him. He was so satisfied with what he created out of you. He was so captivated by your beauty that he couldn’t help but just force your mouth further open just to spit in your mouth. He then forced it shut, signaling for you to swallow it.
Ethan then slapped your face and grabbed your hair again, facing your head down towards the mess that he was making and made you watch as he jackhammered his fingers in and out of you, watching you lift your lower body from the mattress.
“Oh fuuuckkk…Ethan! M’gonna-“
“That’s right. Go ahead, whore.”
He continued to hit your spots at full speed as your wetness flew all over the bed and even onto the floor.
You wailed out as you felt your orgasm wash over you, making your body shiver and twitch. Ethan watched as you squirted all over his hand and the bedsheets.
He smirked at the sight of you squirting all over him then unbuckled his pants, pulling down his zipper and then revealing his boxers. Ethan then pulled his shirt over his head, revealing his very toned abs and you could feel yourself getting turned on by the sight of his very well built body.
You continued staring at him as he pulled his boxers down, revealing his hard, twitching cock. He then smacked your ass, signaling you to turn over onto your stomach. You looked up at him, doe-eyed as you nodded and followed his exact commands.
He then grabbed your face again, forcing you to make eye contact with him with your head faced upwards as he towered over you again.
“God, you’re so pretty.”
You blushed at his comment before he forced yourself to arch against him. You were about to lift your head up until he pushed your head down into the mattress.
He then gave no warning as he completely shoved himself inside of you causing you to whine out in pain and pleasure. Your feet curled as you could feel his tip graze against your cervix.
He then thrusted himself in and out as he pulled your hair, forcing your face down into the pillow, completely ruining your makeup as it stained the bedsheets. Your moans were so pornographic and loud that anyone could hear next door, but it didn’t matter because all this heart racing pleasure is what kept you from thinking about anything else.
“Think all those other guys can fuck you like me? Make you squirt and cry like me? Hell no.”
You loved being his. And he loved being yours.
He then pulled out to flip you on your back again as he pulled you by your ankle towards him to line up his cock on your dripping slit. Examining your wet cunt, he then spat on it, making you gasp and your pussy twitch at the sight of it.
“Such a pretty sight from such a pretty cumdump.” He marveled at your glistening cunt.
You lightly giggled at his comment before he practically folded you in half and shoved himself deep inside of you again. Your mouth was agape as he began thrusting in you again.
You could feel and hear the slamming of his hips as it echoed throughout the room.
“M’ gonna fill you up so good, princess. And I want you to look directly at me when I do it.”
You struggled to even reply to him so all you could do was nod. Your poor pussy was already bruised by the time he began shoving himself in you that you couldn’t help but cry and squeal out in pain and pleasure.
He then took you by your throat as he started wrapping his hand around it, squeezing as you gasped for air. he then took his other hand and shoved it in the back of your throat, making you gag again and watching your tears flow out again.
It wasn’t until he leaned in and kissed you so sloppily that all you could feel is his tongue swirling around your mouth and trying to slide it’s way to your uvula, that you felt yourself tighten more and more around him that you were practically milking him. You both moaned into each other’s mouths before he pulled away, your tongue sticking out as lines of saliva connected your mouths.
You looked so gorgeous. Having your insides fucked like he absolutely hated you, and you just taking it like a good girl.
He continued choking you as you grabbed onto the bedsheets, feeling a sort of coil in your stomach.
“Oh- Mmmff!! I’m gunna cum!!”
Ethan only went faster after your words and continued drilling himself into your cervix as he grabbed your face one last time.
“Do it. But don’t take your pretty eyes off of me. I wanna watch you, my bunny.”
“M-Mhm!! S-Shit…!”
You nodded and let out more moans and whimpers as he continued to thrust in and out as the squelching noises of your fucking filled the room.
“Ohhhh!! Ethannnn!!!”
You let out a few more wails of pleasure as you kept eye contact with Ethan before you felt your orgasm unravel again and the feeling of cum gushing out of your pussy onto his cock ran through your body as it convulsed and shivered.
Just a few more thrusts later, Ethan then released his hot and thick load inside of your womb, filling it to the brim. He kept himself deep inside you so that almost none of it would fall out. He groaned out and slightly whimpered at the overwhelming pleasure of your tight cunt cumming all over his fat cock mixed with his orgasm.
You both were now panting messes. Ethan then looked down at your completely fucked out face as it was stained with makeup and mascara. He smiled and gently kissed your forehead.
He then lifted himself off of you, picking up his boxers and putting them back on. He noticed you were practically unresponsive to him, so he picked you up off the bed and carried you bridal style to the bathroom. He set you down on the cold sink, causing you to shiver as he started up a bath for you. He waited until the water was warm and filled the tub before he carried you and gently sat you inside.
He was now bathing your entire body and helping you clean up your face. You gazed lovingly at your boyfriend as he did all of this, meanwhile he was complimenting you.
“You did so well today, bunny. You’re my perfect girl.”
Your heart fluttered at his comments. He really was the man you loved and wanted to spend the rest of your life with.
After your bath, he helped dry you up and then carried you back to the bedroom with a towel wrapped around your body. Watching him rummage around your clothes, you twirled your hair and gazed at his back muscles. Ethan then came back with panties and one of his shirts for you to wear. He slipped it onto you and smiled as it draped over your body.
Ethan then crawled onto the bed next to you, waiting for you to rest your head on his chest. Once you did, you were quick to fall asleep on it, listening to his heartbeat as he toyed with your hair.
2K notes · View notes
azriels-shadowsinger · 4 months
Text
Game Night (Azriel x Reader)
summary: You and Azriel have been kinda flirty for a while, but it has never actually gone anywhere. When game night turns into strip poker… well i’m sure you can guess where this is gonna go.
wc: 1.5k
a/n: i haven’t written anything in a long while bc ive been kinda very depressed so this may suck. also thank yall so much for 200 followers!!
!!warning: suggestiveness at the end.
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The males should have known it was a bad idea when you four females insisted on the game. Mor had oh so innocently suggested a game night, after which Nesta randomly got the idea to play poker out of nowhere, followed by immediate approval from you and Feyre. Rhys, Cassian, and Azriel had wrongfully assumed that you all had suddenly gained interest in the game and wanted to learn for fun, so they agreed.
The night started out wholesome. You were ‘learning’ the basic rules of the game while losing a decent amount of money. As expected, Rhys was trying to help Feyre as she kept losing money to his brothers. After several rounds of defeat and many more rounds of drinks, the males started to notice that you four were losing less and less. Actually… you were all holding the majority of the chips by this point. Azriel, in his usual perceptive manner, accused you four of cheating and hustling them. You and Mor couldn’t help but break out laughing.
“I’m sorry! It was just too easy!” You said between giggles.
“Especially when Rhys started telling Feyre his cards in her mind so she wouldn’t lose, which she immediately told to us!” Mor laughed loudly. Feyre gave a sheepish grin and Nesta only smirked while pulling her most recent winning to her pile. Rhys, Cass, and Az couldn’t help but to laugh, commending you for being able to trick them. Cassian, however, insists that they were going easy on you the whole time.
“Well, it’s on now. No more holding back, right boys?” Cassian says with a smug grin while dealing new cards to the table.
“It shouldn’t be too hard to win, now that I figured out each of their tells.” Azriel stated matter of factly while peaking at his cards. His shadows swirl around him, blocking anyone from being able to see the hand he was dealt.
“Oh really? You think you can tell when we’re bluffing? I think you’re overestimating those spy abilities, Az. You haven’t called any of my bluffs correctly so far.” He shrugs. “I think we may need to make this game more interesting since you three claim you’re going to actually try now. I’m thinking we raise the bets to-“
“Let’s play strip poker!” Cassian bellows, obviously drunk, and cutting you off before you can say anything else. Rhys exchanges a look with Feyre. “I think that Feyre darling and I are going to retire for the night before we lose more of our money or our clothes. Goodnight everyone!” He laughs. They throw their cards on the table and winnow away, leaving just you, Nesta, Mor, Azriel, and Cassian at the table.
Cassian stares expectantly at Nesta. “Cmon, Nes! Say you’ll play!” She sighs dramatically and agrees. “Fine. Only if Y/N, Mor, and Azriel all agree to play too.” Your face turns red. While you don’t doubt your poker abilities, the thought of stripping in front of Azriel… or worse, seeing him half naked, makes your heart race. You and Azriel have only ever gone as far as flirting with each other, but these Illyrians are always flirtatious, so you don’t think it means anything. Regardless, your mind wanders to the mental image of a shirtless Azriel, sparring in the training ring this morning. It’s always so hard not to stare. His abs, his arms, his wings…
“Y/N? Are you playing or not?” Mor questions, pulling you from your daydream. You realize everyone has agreed but you now.
“Sure, whatever.” You say quieter than before, still slightly blushing. You look at your cards nervously, praying to the Cauldron for a good hand. Luckily, you get it. The round goes on, and eventually Cassian is the first to lose an item of clothing, opting to lose his shirt and making a big display of removing it.
An hour later, you have all had several more drinks, everyone has discarded a couple items of clothing (except for Cassian who was down to only his boxers and his left sock), Mor got tired and left, and you were focusing way too closely on one of your poker chips in an attempt to not stare at Azriel.
Cassian flips the last card and… it’s not what you need. You bite your lip nervously, pushing several chips to the middle of the table while trying to maintain a confident façade. “I raise.”
Cassian and Nesta both fold, leaving just you and Azriel. You feel his eyes on you, probably trying to tell if you’re bluffing. Your skin heats under his gaze. Trying to appear more confident, you meet his stare, only to notice he’s not staring at your face, but rather a bit lower. You blush and Cassian clears his throat. “Uh, your move, Az.” Azriel immediately looks away, staring back at his cards.
“Um, I fold.” He mutters and tosses his cards on the discard pile, and you can’t help but notice the way his other hand is clenching and flexing under the table.
“Y/N wins! Az, looks like you’re down to your boxers now!” Cassian slurs slightly. Your eyes go wide and you give a panicked look to Nesta.
“Cass, I think it’s time for us to head home. I’m tired.” She gives him a look that he obviously must recognize because he is very quick to leave, obviously excited to get home. They say goodbye and head out, leaving just you and Azriel.
You stand to gather your things, but Azriel stops you. “Are we done playing, sweetheart?” You feel his eyes trail down your half-exposed body.
“You can keep your pants on, Shadowsinger. It’s late and I’m drunk. Plus, if we play another round then one of us will end up a bit more naked than friends should be around each other.” You laugh awkwardly. Azriel’s eyes darken slightly and he leans in to whisper in your ear. “Scared you’ll lose?” You shudder at the closeness and the feeling of his breath on you.
“No. I just don’t think you want me to find out that the wingspan theory isn’t true.” You quip back with a raised eyebrow. He lets out a short laugh and sits back down. “Deal the cards.” He says smugly.
You deal the cards, trying to ignore the tension thick in the air. What the hell is he doing? How are you supposed to act friendly and hide your feelings if you see him naked? How is he going to react if he sees you without a bra? You deal the last card and look at your hand. Not terrible, but definitely not great. You bite your lip nervously. The round plays out and it’s time to place the final bets. You make your bet and then look to Azriel, biting your bottom lip nervously. He studies his cards, then sets them down to look at you.
“You wanna know something, Y/N?” He picks up a poker chip and spins it between his fingers. Gods, those fingers. “You bite your lip when you’re nervous. Did you know that?” You freeze. “And while it has been rather advantageous to know when you’re bluffing this whole game, I do find it kind of cute.” He slides all of his chips into the middle pile. “I knew you were bluffing the last round. And I know you are now too.” His voice is low and full of confidence. Your face is completely red now as he flips his cards over. Royal flush.
You turn your cards over in defeat and he grins. “I win.” He says smugly. He stands and saunters towards you, caging you between his arms in your chair. You look up at him, and you can see the silent question in his eyes. Is this okay? You nod softly and he smirks.
“As the winner, I think it’s only fair that I get to claim my prize. May I?” He gently slides your bra strap down your shoulder. This is actually happening. Weeks of flirty words and lustful glances, leading to whatever is about to happen.
“Rules are rules.” You maintain eye contact and reach behind to unclasp your bra. He grabs your wrist, guiding it back down and reaching behind you himself. His fingers softly trail up your spine, leaving goosebumps behind, before he reaches the clasp and unhooks it. Your bra falls to the floor and Azriel’s eyes roam over you hungrily.
“Gods, you are even more beautiful than I imagined.” He gently guides you to stand, walking you back to the wall and pressing you against it. “I have wanted to do this for so long.” He whispers against your skin before moving his lips to yours. He kisses you with no restraint. One hand cups your face while the other moves up your side. You melt into his touch, savoring his taste. A small moan leaves your mouth, causing him to growl softly.
Azriel pulls away for a moment to say something, but before he can, you hear footsteps in the hall. Quickly, you rush to grab your clothes before anyone can see you. Moments later, whoever it was walks past the room towards the kitchen. You let out a breath, continuing to get dressed.
You give a look to Azriel, who had already managed to get fully dressed somehow. He can read the question in your eyes. Now what? Azriel reaches out a scarred hand toward you. “We can keep playing the game in my room.” He smirks. You take his hand and you two quickly head out, leaving the cards and poker chips on the table.
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idk what this was. honestly it was a WIP from months ago and i’m not sure if I love how it ended up but whatever i just am trying to write again :)
687 notes · View notes
absolutebl · 5 months
Text
Best & Worst BLs of 2023
My Top 15 BLs of 2023 are (in order)
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1 Our Dating Sim
Korea Viki
Nerds in love, deadlines, gaming, teasing, pining tiny idiots, casual affection, linguistic oops, ADORABLE. If you haven't watched this, it's a must. A perfect short form KBL, an office set reunion romance featuring geeks that really suits 8 eps with no fluff and no chaff. Just comforting and yummy.
I adored every aspect from the casting to the pristinely simple premise to the quietly smooth execution. Sure it’s low stakes, but that makes it high domesticity and extremely warm and gentle. This is a fuzzy blanket of a story - a cozy BL. It lives in my rewatch pile and you know what’s best about it? Every single episode is in that pile. There’s no skipping with this one, it might be good natured and calmly sweet but it’s tight and the pacing is excellent.
Also recieves my 2023 award for best giggle.
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2 I Cannot Reach You
AKA I Can't Reach You AKA Kimi ni wa Todokanai
Japan Netflix
This classic friends-to-lovers BL is everything Japan does best. Angsty. Emo. Aching. Driven by real thirst. Yamato is deeply in love with his childhood bestie, Kakeru, and has been for ages, unable to hide his ungainly damaging high school need. He wants Kakeru in every way possible and it oozes off of the screen.
Kakeru is silly and a little simple, but not frenetic or overly camp about it. He is earnest, and genuinely wants to keep Yamato in his life which means giving a romance (and gayness) a fair chance. We watch him realize his affection and what form it can take in a truly authentic way.
This show was impossibly kind to both of its lead characters and I felt almost honored that I got to watch something so lovely and rare play out on my screen.
Also wins the best thirst award.
These were the 2 BLs that got 10/10 from me in 2023. The rest of these got 9/10 from me.
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3 My School President
Thailand YouTube
GMMTV gave us a classic high school set Thai BL with tropes like messy boys singing their feelings that made this one Love Sick for the modern age with all the gentle sweetness and pining ache, but none of the dated damaging tropes or issues. Who let my BL be this wholesome and funny? My favourite GMMTV BL offering to date. And yes, I've watched them ALL.
Received the Namgoong award for best wingman 2023.
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4 I Feel You Linger in the Air
Thailand grey
IFYLITA is an exquisite BL, from filming techniques to narrative framework. Steeped in history and family drama this is an elegant and classy BL. The main couple (both as a pair and individuals) were excellent, particularly Bright (Yai) whose eye-work acting style is a personal favorite of mine. It's a marker of how great it was that it's so high on my list despite the ending which was very much not what I wanted.
Additional accolade, sexiest moment of 2023 - (the oil scene).
You could try to fight me, but you'll have no grip.
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5 Kiseki: Dear to Me
Taiwan Gaga & Viki
The plot is totally ridiculous and slightly unhinged. There’s a gum-ball machine of cameos, elder gay rep, great chemistry from all pairs (everyone is queer), and a KILLER side couple. It involves all the tropes under a very offhand framework of gay mafia gangs + food = love. As a result Kiseki is a poster child for Taiwanese BL, and I happen to love Taiwanese BL. Bonus? They also managed to END IT WELL, which we cannot expect from Taiwan.
Best side couple 2023!
(thank goodness Taiwan made this list!)
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6 Jun and Jun
Korea Viki
A delightful office romance about an ex-idol who joins cubical life only to find his new boss is his first love. With a snappy (sometimes even raunchy) script, enjoyable sides, a pretty as peaches cast, and descent chemistry this show made up for in style what it lacked in substance. I like fluff. I loved this. I smiled every moment I was watching.
Best flirting 2023.
AKA "the tongue knows" award
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7 The Eighth Sense
Korea Viki
This one is a bit chewy and sticky and less perfect than most KBLs. It’s got a bit of an age gap, country boy/city boy, stellar acting, complex characters, and leads with great chemistry and tension. This isn’t in the KBL bubble, there’s sharp edges and lots of triggers. For a BL the darkness of the content left me feeling unsettled (which is the only reason it didn't get a perfect score) but it has a glorious ending and that counts for a lot.
2023's most likely to appeal to non-BL watchers.
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8 Unintentional Love Story
Korea iQIYI
The lead, Gongchan (maknae of B1A4) is a fucking GIFT, who carried this show. He was luminous with extraordinarily expressive eyes, which he used to carry a killer plot and challenging role. Forced into a totally understandable betrayal, falling in love despite himself, put into a corner he can't get out of, the AGONY, the eyes EMOTING at us in PAIN. Driven by external conflict, social tension and pressure this story seems simple but it's actually refined and quite complex. I loved this show.
Best story structure 2023.
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9 My Personal Weatherman
AKA Taikan Yoho
Japan Gaga
This is classic yaoi of the kind that really only works from Japan. Basically: boys who fell in love in college end up living together but both are so repressed they actually don't realize they're in love. It's high heat is well done, but it leaned into the "why don't they just talk for fuck's sake?" which is exacerbated by the fact that they're already fucking. Sure is sexy tho.
Best use of props 2023 for the shower of sheets.
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10 Our Dining Table
AKA Bokura no Shokutaku
Japan Gaga
Lonely salaryman and talented cook gets accidentally adopted by a college kid and his little brother. It’s a quiet & cozy little parable of found family alleviating loneliness. It's lovely & sweet with the romance beats used to build a family relationship, not just couple intimacy. Special.
First prize for domesticity.
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11 Laws of Attraction
Thailand iQIYI
This is a great gay suspense thriller with several solid couples, fun plot, killer characters, queer rep, and a happy ending. It’s tons of fun and I had an absolute blast watching it.
Charn wins my favorite character of 2023.
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12 La Pluie
Thailand Viki
This BL takes to task the fated mates trope and what it means to have love chained intimately to predestination. It’s about how faith in destiny before choice diminishes the authenticity of emotion, relationships, and connection. This is a high concept to examine through the lens of a BL. With good chemistry and decent acting all around, plus some excellent high heat and representation of consent and a few other rare tropes, this one has to (like it’s sibling show My Ride) earn high marks.
Most interesting concept 2023.
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13 The New Employee
Korea Viki
So good, SO QUEER, so soft, a near pitch perfect office BL with conflict derived from that setting. Also found family and a lesbian bestie. This is what I wanted from this new crop of office set KBLs ALL ALONG. Rainbow rice cakes forever!
Best overall queer rep from Korea.
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14 Step By Step
Thailand Gaga & YouTube & Viki
This was Thailand’s answer to The New Employee, and everything I loved about that show I loved about this one. This was an office romance between stern boss and sweet subordinate that felt more authentic to an office environment than previous Thai BLs of this ilk which added tension to the narrative and character development.
Chot wins best queer character 2023.
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15 Love Tractor
Korea iQIYI
Most of this country-set BL had me feral for the beautiful broken city boy and his hot young farmer. Hyung romance, puppy/cat pairing, open frankness meets jaded reserve, language play, water hose frolicking, only one bed = all my favorite silly tropes.
Biggest "he so pretty" gasp of the year award.
10 Worst BLs of 2023 (that I watched)
My Blessing
My Universe: Casanova Begins
Boyband the series
Cafe In Love
Chains of Heart
Hit Bite Love
Only Friends
Senior Love Me
The Luminous Solution
The Promise
Yes, you read that right. I know I'm against the flow but I really did not like Only Friends. Everyone's taste is different.
However I DNFed faster and more BL's this year than ever before, so that means my 10 worst probably aren't quite reflective...
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10 Probably Actually Worst BLs (I dropped 'em)
My Story
The Day I Loved You
Beyond the Star
Crazy Handsome Rich
Dinosaur Love
House of Stars
Mr Cinderella 2
Love Bill
Stormy Honeymoon
The Star Always Follow You
Codicils in General
I only carefully track/watch Thailand, Taiwan, Korea, and Japan. Other countries are not fully represented.
My Numbers
So my spreadsheet chronicled 138 BLs that finish airing in 2023.
101 = watched & reviewed
2 = still in the docket (WDYEY2 & Love Syndrome III)
15 = CNF (could not find)
20 = DNF (which also accounts for how few very low scores I handed out in 2023 as opposed to previous years, I just stopped watching). Speaking of which...
Ratings spread
(# of stars. #of BLs given that rating)
0 (see the DNFs instead)
2 - IT'S DEPRESSING they killed the gay, save yourself
7 - I DON'T KNOW WHAT I AM WATCHING AND NEITHER DOES IT
7 - FATALLY FLAWED but still basically BL, however… do we want to support this kind of behavior?
9 - WATCH IF YOU HAVE NOTHING BETTER TO DO but don’t expect much, it’s a total hot mess
17 - WORTH WATCHING BUT FLAWED probably around the ending or in narrative structure/cohesion or censorship
14 - RECOMMENDED WITH RESERVATIONS i.e. isn’t quite BL, convoluted, not strictly HEA, too short/long, or chemistry issues
30 - RECOMMENDED some concerns around tropes (like dub con) or story structure but still satisfies as BL
13 - ABSOLUTELY RECOMMENDED probably a few pacing issues or one flaw
2 - HIGHLY RECOMMENDED faithful to tropes, happy ending, good chemistry, few flaws, high rewatch potential
(source)
541 notes · View notes
thegnomelord · 5 months
Note
Alright since 28 is taken Ill do the next best thing 29! Graves and his shadows with M reader, who is a colonel.
I need the wholesome and maybe a bit of the spice ya know. Thank you for soing Shadow company content, i am so starved.
Once again good soup!
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Here you go dude, I'm not the best when it comes to writing for a group of people so idk how this turned out :/. Play the game HERE
Prompt: Hug from behind
CW: NSFW, subbot Graves, domtop Mreader, Shadow company fluff, hug from behind, fluff, groping, handjob, cumming in pants.
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Being a colonel in the Shadow company and Grave's right hand man, you had a lot of responsibilities. From running drills to stitching up wounds to writing reports and drafting contracts when your magpie of a commander sees a new person he wants to recruit; you expected to deal with a lot of shit, but never in your wildest dreams did you expect to become the Shadow Company's emotional support Colonel.
Colonel Care Bear — it was their nickname for you. You'd made the mistake of being annoyed at the name which, of course, made the little fuckers double down on it. Nothing you did made them stop, even Graves joining in their fun and calling you that instead of your name with a smug grin.
You're not even sure when or why it had started.
It wasn't like you were overly paternal, you just took care of your soldiers. In whatever ways they needed you; The first time you'd needed to give emotional support had been after Jenkins had lost his battle buddy. Jenkins was still relatively young compared to the other Shadows, a rising star that Graves had snatched up, but on the flight back to base he'd been no better than a scared kitten, desperately trying to hold in his sobs. You hadn't said a word when you had pulled him close to you, letting him cry his heart out into your shoulder.
None of the others said a word either, and you didn't bring it up after your plane had landed. You'd expected it to be a one off experience but oh — you were so wrong.
Like feral cats learning to trust a human, the Shadows started approaching you, carefully at first, standing just at the edge of your personal space nervous fingers toying with the hem of their shirts and eyes flickering between you and anything else, until you grew annoyed and pulled them close to you, letting them cry or talk or just sit with their head on your shoulder for as long as they needed; a lighthouse in a dark sea.
Then Williams, who'd had one too many bad missions, had come into your office without a word and plopped himself into your lap while you were busy doing paperwork.
You were surprised, but not too much, with how often you'd found yourself with a Shadow near you you figured something like this was bound to happen. Though you hadn't expected it to be this forward. "Bad day?" You asked.
Williams just grunted into your neck, slightly nodding his head.
You shifted to still be able to write with him in your lap. "Want me to talk?"
You felt his hair scratch your neck when he shook his head, a negative grunt leaving his throat.
"Got it." You said and went back to your work, a hand on William's hip to keep him stable.
Safe to say you weren't amused when Graves had walked in and cracked the biggest bloody smirk when he saw you like that. You were even less amused when he'd whipped out his phone and took a photo of it. And you were ready to piss in Grave's beer after that photo had circulated through the entire Shadow Company, leading to many more similar incidents of a Shadow crawling into your lap when you weren't busy.
It really wasn't their fault your embrace just felt so good and comfortable, your arms perfectly sized and muscled to put weight in your hugs, shoulders just broad enough to make them feel small and safe.
Graves knew this because when he'd needed to confiscate Smith's phone after he'd caught him taking pictures of your ass (not that he blamed him, you had a nice ass but they needed to have some professionalism) Graves had found their simp chat.
It took him days to finish reading all the messages. I mean there were hundreds of texts gushing just over you, calendrer times for when which Shadow could go bother you for attention, not to mention the countless pictures they'd taken of you, from mundane to more suggestive when you were in the communal showers (Graves would die before he admitted he'd needed to rub one out at some of the pictures).
Safe to say that when he gave Smith his phone back Graves was. . .curious. He'd never approached you for comfort like the Shadows did, mostly because he knew he couldn't keep his thoughts pure after just a few minutes in your presence, his throat going dry whenever he feels you pat his shoulder when you pass in the hall.
"Care Bear!" Graves calls when he finds you on your way to your room, using that name just so he can see the irritated twitch of your brow.
"Yes commander?" You ask in that same tone of voice you use when you know he's up to something.
"Oh come on, no need for that." Graves grins, "Ah just need you to do something for me," He says, because he wouldn't be your commander if he was straightforward. "Follow along." He motions with his hand like a dog as he passes you.
Like a dog you follow, so close you cast a partial shadow over him. He leads you to a more secluded hallway, stopping abruptly and hearing you stop too. But you're not close enough, so with an annoyed sigh he says "Come closer."
You raise an eyebrow but do as he says, taking a few short steps closer until your chest is almost touching his back. Without a word Graves suddenly grabs your arms and wraps them around his waist, leaning back on his heels until his back is flush with your chest and you're supporting his weight.
You stall for a few moments just trying to convince your head that yes, your commander is doing that. "Really?" You ask.
He tilts his head to meet your eyes, casually resting his head on your shoulder. "Something the matter Colonel Care bear?" He smirks, reminding you of a very content cat.
You give him a blank look before rolling your eyes, "Could have just said you wanted a hug." You huff and move your arms to really hug him, your hands resting comfortably on his hips, your arms caging him in, the heat of your body seeping into his, your chest rumbling as you mutter your annoyance at the damn nickname.
"What fun would that be?" He says, eyes closing.
And, Hell, Graves gets it now.
He could get addicted this. Your scent and cologne clogs his nose, the heat of your body chasing away the lingering chill of the base. You support his weight so easily it's like he's floating on a firm cloud, forgetting about ranks and war and everything for a few blissful seconds. His mind wanders; wonders what it would feel to have your strong arms pin him every day, what it'd be like to be pinned down, the current gentle pressure turned bruising and demanding, bending him in half and shit— he's hard.
And of course you notice, wouldn't be his right hand if you couldn't read him like a book. "I'm getting the impression," You note, your grip increasing just a bit to keep him still, your other hand skirting down. "That you wanted something more than just a hug." You growl and squeeze your hand, groping the bulge in his jeans.
"Shit—" Graves sucks in a breath, legs scrambling for purchase but you hold him still, his weight still on you. "—I wasn't thinking of nothing." He says quickly, the pressure of your hand on his clothed cock too good.
"Uh huh," You hum, keeping a careful eye on his facial expressions as you experimentally move your hand; Short slow brushes of your thumb against his cockhead earn you little whimpers, unable to hide them with his head still resting on your shoulder. Firm squeezes of his entire bulge has his skin turning a nice shade of pink, his ear hot beneath your tongue as you nibble on it. His thighs part as you bully your hand lower, the strong pressure of your fingers against his balls as your palm grinds into his cockhead making him moan, the stuttered attempts at explaining himself dying out as a visible damp spot grows in his jeans.
"Faster-" Graves growls, his hands grabbing purchase in your hair, yanking your head down into a rough kiss, "-mhh, faster, fuck, man-"
You smirk against his lips. "Ask me nicely." You say, purposely pulling your hand away from where he needs it the most, ignoring his disgruntled sounds. "You son of a bitch-" Graves snarls, breathing rapidly in an attempt to get his frazzled brain to work before swallowing his pride. "Please," He says it like the word hurts him.
"Please what commander?" You wonder, undoing his belt and slipping your hand into his jeans, "Please touch my cock? Please get me off? Please fuck me till I can't walk?" You throw suggestions, applying just enough pressure on his twitching cock to leave him dumbly nodding his head.
"Yes, yes, yes- oh fuck- shit yes-" Phill pants, eyes closing and weakly thrusting his hips into your hand with what leverage he has, seeking out the pleasure that comes with your calloused hand stroking his sensitive flesh. "Fuck- just, ahh-" He breathes in through clenched teeth, "-just please."
"Alright, alright," You hum, increasing your pace, the glide of skin on skin eased by the precum he's leaking, swallowing his little moans and rough grunts as you kiss him. You can tell he's nearing his end with how he begins twitching even more in your hold, hips pushing into your hand sporadically, fat tears prickling his eyes. "Come on then Commander, cum already."
He does almost as soon as you tell him to, his moan swallowed down by your lips as he cums in his pants, your thumb rubbing insistently on his tip to milk him of all he's got, strong arm keeping him close to you.
"You did good commander." You coo gently as you pull your hand out of his pants, and without waiting for a response you push your cum covered fingers into his open mouth. "Real good," You smirk when Phill immediately sucks on your fingers, his brain melted into mush and incapable of rousing his pride to feel ashamed of how he moans at the taste of his own spend. "Such a good boy," Your praise does something to him, has his cock making a valiant attempt to get hard all over again.
The air leaves his lungs when you suddenly push your hips against his ass, making him feel your own hard cock trapped in your pants. "I took care of you," You begin, pulling your fingers from his mouth. "Are you prepared to take care of me?"
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tragedybunny · 9 months
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Astarion head cannon! If your tav has any artistic ability (or none and is learning) imagine if he found you drawing his face a bunch to try get a good image of him to share. Pre act 2 where he believes you actually love him and he loves you. Just seeing this person doing something purely for him confusing and scaring hin but feeling too nice to want to run from.
So I had to turn this into a little story, it was too good.
What The Heart Sees - Astarion x F!Reader
You've been acting suspicious and Astarion is going to get to the bottom of it.
You'd been acting ever so slightly strange around him. He hasn't put the pieces together yet, but Astarion knows something is going on with you. The thought fills him with a little dread, he's worked so hard to get you on his side, to have someone to keep the others from turning on him. Now it might all be slipping through his fingers. 
Whatever was happening, he needed to bring it to a halt and get you back to your regular sweet devotion to him. The first step was interrogating your companions. Lae'zel and Shadowheart of course saw nothing wrong with your behavior. "Maybe she just needs a rest from your fangs at her neck," Shadowheart snipped and Astarion considered giving her neck a try one night before stomping away. 
Gale and Karlach at least confirmed his suspicions. As usual Gale was too worried about exploding to be much help, but Karlach, dear Karlach tried to be helpful. "We're all going through a lot. Maybe she's just tired Fangs." So, there was something going on with you, but no one seemed to have any clue. Maybe the Mind Flayer transformation was actually happening just very slowly, he shuddered at the thought. 
This situation clearly called for some less wholesome tactics. Stealth and spying on you, for now, maybe violating your trust and rummaging through your stuff as well. That night he crept to your tent after everyone had retired, there was still the faint glow of a light spell illuminating it. His intent had been to stop and listen, see if could find an angle to glance in that wouldn’t expose himself. Quietly, he made it near the entrance, perfect, you were unawares. There was a book cradled in your lap. Perhaps you’d found some arcane knowledge you were unwilling to share. He hadn’t thought you were power hungry, but maybe he’d misjudged. Reaching over, you picked up a piece of charcoal. Interesting, he leaned forward. “Woof.” Scratch was on top of him, wagging his tail, and he was laying the dirt outside your tent. 
You jump up, clearly startled, and he wanted to gut the stupid beast. But he saw where you tucked that precious book as you leapt up. “Astarion!” You were standing at the opening of the tent, looking down at him with concern. 
“Hello my Sweet,” he tries his best to still somehow be charming while pushing Scratch off him. “I uh, saw you were up and wanted to check on you but Scratch is apparently in a playful mood.” 
“Oh Scratch! You haven’t had enough attention huh?’ You reach out to pet the mongrel and talk softly to him as Asatrion pushes himself out of the dirt. “I was just reading, sorry to disturb you.” 
“No worries Darling,” he gives you a perfunctory peck on the cheek before heading back to his tent. It was all working out anyway. 
The next night comes and he’s ready, Scratch has given him quite a bit of inspiration. Discreetly Astarion leads the heap of fur to the edge of the camp, the ball he had dragged in from somewhere tucked in a pocket. “Come here Scratch,” he hisses, waving it around, getting his attention before chucking it off into the woods. The animal follows excitedly. Astarion isn’t sure where it went and he doesn’t care. Scratch is more a rival for your attention than anything else anyway. 
After a couple of minutes he finds you at the campfire, blissfully unaware. “Has anyone seen Scratch,” he asks, as innocently as he can manage. 
“Oh no,” your eyes quickly scan the campsite, “he must have wandered off.” You seem so distressed, he almost feels guilty. But this is his survival on the line. “Maybe I should go look for him.” 
“Do take Halsin my Dear, he’ll have the best chance at tracking,” and one less person around camp to watch. 
“Right,” you nod, standing and trodding off to the Druid. 
No sooner are you gone then Astarion is creeping into your tent when no one is looking. No light needed, he sees everything perfectly, including the little pack you shoved your book in last night. Victory. He wrests it from the spot under your pillow and plops down on your blankets to study it. What forbidden knowledge rests inside. The worn cover flips open to…
Sketches, sketches of him specifically. Not that he remembers what he looks like, but the clothes give it away, along with the poses, moments he remembers. Him, you’ve been drawing him. He continues to flip through the book, more bits of him, frozen in time, and the technique improves. Why are you doing this? The mirror, he remembers, being upset about not seeing his reflection. 
Sitting there in stunned silence, he feels an unpleasant weight in his chest. No one has ever done anything like this for him before. It’s…kind. Not that you’ve ever been any other way to him ever. Gods, what is he even doing, maybe he should just…
“Astarion!” Slamming the book shut, he jumps up. “Hello Darling, I-”
“You ruined the surprise,” you scold, looking so dejected he somehow feels worse than he did a moment ago. 
“I’m sorry, I was curious. I saw you with it the other night. It’s amazing though,” he tries to placate, guilt an emotion he’s buried for so long, but fear is there as well. Fear he’s crossed a line you won’t tolerate. 
Bending down, you retrieve the book from where it landed. “I was hoping to get something I was pleased with to show you, but I suppose it will have to do for now.” 
“Really, you shouldn’t bother so much with it,” you look up at him so sadly he quickly adds, “you do too much for me already. But I do appreciate this gift.” Impulsively he pulls you close and kisses you quickly before letting you go. “Is this really what you see? 
“That and so much more.” The way you stare at him with adoration, the way you always treat him so sweetly, the way he suddenly wants nothing more than to stand here in this tent forever, basking in you, it’s all becoming too much, he could almost swear he had a pulse to hammer in his veins. Hells, what has he gotten himself into with you? 
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meowsforyujin · 4 months
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Clubbing- Han
Han x fem bodied reader
(Warnings- !!smut!! , choking, drinking, oral, fingering, unprotected sex)
!not proofread, I’m lazy
Clubbing wasn’t something out of the ordinary in your friend group. What WAS out of the ordinary was that literally everyone had found a “ride” home but you and freaking han jisung. Jisung was your best friend’s brother, aka pain in your ass. You did not like him AT ALL. You didn’t like his gorgeous figure, his perfect slim waist, his gummy smile…
Okay just because you think someone's good looking doesn't mean you like them. 
Jisung was annoying, for starters. He’s always messing with you, and FLIRTING with you. He’s always making it seem like you have a crush on him, and it pisses you off. 
“Me? Have a crush on YOU? You wish” you’d say.
“Whatever you say princess.”
What was really blood boiling was that your best friend didn't seem to care one bit. If your brother was flirting with her, you’d kick him in the nuts. But not her, she either laughed or ignored it. 
Fast forward to present, here you are sitting lonely at the bar with no one to take you home, since everyone had luck tonight BUT you. 
“Why are you so lonely at a club, it’s depressing.” you hear that stupid fucking voice that makes your heart beat oh so slightly faster
“No reason that's your business asshole.” you snap your head around. 
“Is someone grumpy that they aren't getting laid?” He asks smugly, sitting down next to you. 
“I think you're teasing me because you're upset YOU'RE not getting laid” you say, annoyance visible in your tone. 
“I have a better chance than you.” he stuck his tongue out like a child  
The bartender handed you your drink and you spaced out, eyes on the dance floor. You loved dancing. Han also knew you loved dancing because he loved watching you dance. He wasn’t ever one to be in denial, unlike you. 
“Well since it's just us less, I suppose we have no choice but to dance together.” 
You come back to your senses and look back at him, making a disgusted facial expression before shaking your head. 
“Come on, it's your favorite song, you want to dance so bad I know it.” He says holding out his hand. 
You opened your mouth to protest, but gave up and hesitantly took his hand. It was your favorite song, though you don’t remember telling anyone. 
There isn’t anything in the world that could make Jisung regret asking you to dance, he’s sure. You’re the most pretty thing he’s ever seen. He doesn't like to watch you dance because you're good at it, no. You’re exceptionally bad at it. It’s absolutely adorable. 
You hate to admit, but this is one of the best times you’ve had on the dance floor. You don’t know why, it’s not really any different from dancing with your other friends. Maybe you just like watching him smile and laugh more than the others. 
Everything was going pretty wholesome until a few drinks in the song changed to a more slow, sexual song. But it’s fine right? Jisung is just a friend, it doesn’t mean anything when you're dancing with your back pressed against him, slightly grinding against him. But youre a little tipsy, and so is he, and to be quite honest neither of you see each other as a friend. 
But you’re quickly sober when you feel a bulge press against you, you're breath hitching. 
“Jisung?”
“Hm?” he replies, head still on your shoulder.
“Are you hard right now?” 
He just hums and plants wet kisses on your neck. 
“HAN JISUNG” You turn around, fully intending to scold him until you see his gaze.  
“What.”
He’s staring at you, hands still on your hips. His eyes half lidded, lips parted, hair messy, eyes absolutely filled with lust. You feel small under his gaze so you move your attention away from his eyes, and it’s just now you're noticing the way he's dressed. He’s wearing a button up that frames his biceps so well it's insane, unbuttoned a bit to where you can see the slight outline of his pec muscles
Your thoughts are brutally interrupted when you feel his hand pull up your chin to met his eyes. 
“What.” he repeats himself. 
“I um, your, uh, um” You forgot how to speak English all of a sudden. 
“Are you shy baby?”
It was like you were hypnotized by him, because instead of scolding him you simply nodded. And he did nothing. He just stared. But you wanted him to do something, anything. 
“Jisung, please.” You're voice came out more of a whimper than you intended. 
“Please what princess?”
You faulted for a moment, not knowing exactly how to put into words what you wanted.
“Can you, can you atleast just kiss me?” You breathed. 
And he didn't waste any time fulfilling your wish, almost crashing his lips onto yours. It felt like he has been waiting to do that for forever (he has). The kiss was sloppy and heated, tongues tracing each others mouth, teeth gnashing together every now and then. The heat in between your legs was beginning to become unbearable. 
“Please, can we get out of here?” you pulled away looking at him with pleading eyes. 
When he got to his car, he truly didn't expect you to be this impatient. His plan was to drive back to his apartment before resuming anything, but CLEARLY you had other plans. 
Your hips on either side of him, grinding softly while attacking the skin on his neck. 
Jisung couldn't help the moans that escaped him, and he didn't want to either. 
“Princess, we can't do this here, l, let's just get home first hm?” He huffed, pulling your hair behind your ear. 
“Please just let me do something before we stop.” You whined, the wait was too long already. 
He sighed and nodded, not knowing what to expect.
You pushing the driver's seat back harshly was more attractive than it should've been. You got down off the seat, onto the ground of the car. Your hands crept up to his zipper while he looked at you with great anticipation. You palm his bulge slightly, pulling a beautiful whine out of him, before taking out his member completely. You try, you really try to hold the gasp in when you see his size. You couldn't help yourself, you had to get your hands on it. 
You run your fingers up and down his member, causing ticklish yet still pleasurable sensations. Jisung moaned, bucking his hips up slightly, trying to show you that he needed more. You hum before licking a long stripe up his dick, earning a long whine from him. You circled his tip, collecting the bits of precum leaking from it. Without wasting any second you take him in, his tip hitting that back of your through as tears prick the corner of your eyes, threatening to fall. You began bobbing up and down, leaving jisung a moaning mess. His hips buck up as he hissed, trying to hold himself back. You pull off, unsatisfied. 
“Don’t do that, don’t hold back.” You watch his beautiful face turn a deep red as he shyly nodded. 
You went back down, this time sucking at his tip on the way up, which seemed to be his limit. His hands found their way to your hair, holding you in place before thrusting into your mouth. He only got in a few thrusts before his hips stilled, cock twitching as he came. You swallowed every bit while watching his gaze on you, chest falling up and down heavily. 
The drive home felt agonizingly slow. As soon as the car stopped, you all but ran to the front door, eager to get in jisungs pants again. The moment the door opened you were pinned to the wall, jisung kicking the door closed behind him. Your lips reattached after what felt like forever, and he took this opportunity to pin your wrists to the wall above you. You let out a satisfactory moan when he did so, causing him to grow harder and harder in his pants. He moved from your lips to your neck, leaving open mouth kisses. The gentleness was quickly replaced with his teeth slightly sinking into your skin,  sucking harshly. You enjoyed it though, your whimpered sure as hell confirmed that. 
Jisung reached under your thighs, pulling slightly signaling you to jump. And you did, wrapping your thighs around his waist, and kissing him once again. He set you down on the kitchen counter, your legs still wrapped firmly around his waist, trying to pull him impossible closer. His hands reach under your shirt, tugging slightly. You pull away from the kiss, granting him access to take off your shit. He practically lunged towards your chest, leaving wet kisses along your cleavage. Your breath hitched as you felt his hands going up your skirt, feeling your heat. 
“So wet baby, for me?” He flashed you that stupid cocky smile of his.
“Just do something about it sung, please?”  You looked up at him with pleading eyes.
The nickname definitely hit a soft spot, as he's never heard you call him that. He couldn’t say he didn’t like it though. 
He bent down, throwing one of your legs over his shoulder. You watched his strong hands reach up your thighs, rolling your skirt back. He attached his lips to your clothed clit, causing a desirable cry from you. You whines at the lost contact when he pulled away, removing your underwear and then getting back into the same position. 
You whined feeling his warm tongue lick up your pussy. He starts painfully slow, kitty licking every inch of you, just wanting to taste every spot. While this was nice, it wasn't any of the right movements to make you cum. And you wanted to cum, so bad. All of a sudden it was as if he read your mind. His lips curled around your clit, sucking gently as he pushed a finger into you. You let out a cry of satisfaction, begging him to keep going. He pumped his finger in and out of you while sucking your clit, and soon one finger became two. Soon after the second finger was added, you were cumming all over his face with a cry of his name. 
Jisung cleaned you up with his tongue, not wanting to miss a single drop until you whined from the overstimulation. He gives you a quick peck of the lips before taking you into his arms, carrying you to the bedroom. 
He sets you down on the bed and then turns around, confusing you. 
“Where are you going?”
He turns back at you with a soft smile, “Just going to get stuff to clean you up, and then clothes for you to sleep in.”
You frowned, “Who said we're done?”
“Oh, I um, thought maybe you were tired..I didn't want to pressure you.” why was he so sweet? It was bothering you.
“No sung, im not tired, want you to fuck me.” 
He blinks a couple of times, breath caught in his throat, before hurrying over to the bed toppling over you. Before you could laugh at him, he's already kissing you. Both of your clothes are off in seconds, thrown somewhere unimportant. His eyes were glued on your naked figure, with an unreadable expression. You turned your head away nervously, crossing your arms over you. 
You yelped when he harshly removed your arms and pinned them up above you. 
“You’re so, so beautiful. So much fucking better than I imagined.”
You felt your face burning at the last comment “What do you mean imagined sung?”, you chuckled softly, but really you wanted to know. 
“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this, to make you mine.”
You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling his crotch down to meet yours. 
“I’m not yours yet, you better hurry up”
He let out a “Tch” sound before entering you without warning, filling you up so perfectly you wanted to never be empty again. You felt every inch of him against your walls, tip so sweetly brushed against the spot you loved most. 
“Fuuuck sung please move” you cried, rutting up your hips trying to get some friction against your g spot. 
“Mmm only if you say your mine.” 
“Shit sung, okay okay I’m yours.”
“Again.”
“I’m yours.”
“Again.”
You rolled your eyes, “Han Jisung, I’m yours and only yours.”
And with that he began thrashing his hips into you, hitting your spot everytime. The room filled with the sounds of skin slapping and both your moans. He pulls your legs back around his waist, trying to hit your spot better, and holy shit he succeeded. You were so so so close, and he was too, you could feel his dick twitching inside you. 
“Sung, im so close please” you begged, tears falling from your eyes.
“You’re so fucking good for me” he grunts, thrusting faster.
“Please choke me” You whined
He was hesitant at first but shortly complied, wrapping his fingers around your throat giving it a light squeeze. All of a sudden, time stopped. All on your mind was bliss as your walls clamped down onto him, pulling a high pitched moan from him while he came too. 
After you both came down from your high, jisung picked you up and took you to the bathroom. He set you down on the sink while he ran the bathtub. You simply just watched him, soaking in his beauty. 
For a good solid 10 minutes, you both were silent, just sitting, feeling each other's warmth. Eventually Jisung picked up a bottle of soap and began to clean you. 
“I can do things by myself jisung.” You glared at him
“Mmm but I want to help you, love. And also I prefer my new nickname “sung” now.”
You scoffed but let him continue his task, picking up the bottle of soap out of mere curiosity. 
“Vanilla?” You laughed “Your soap is vanilla scented?”
“I like vanilla, what’s wrong with that?” he pouted.
“Nothing.” You whispered, giving him a soft kiss. 
“So, for the record, you did have a crush on me.”
“HAN JISUNG!!”
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theemporium · 1 year
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i feel like remus lupin can be the kind of guy that would be silent but sometimes he's vocal when he hasn't seen you in a long time... "fuck baby, you feel so good."
thank you for requesting!🖤remus lupin being vocal is so personal to me
.
“Shit, shit, shit—”
“That feel good, baby?” you cooed softly, your hips slowly rolling against his as the boy whined and bucked beneath you. 
“So good,” he moaned, nails digging into his palms as he fought against the restraints. 
Because the thing about Remus Lupin was that as good as he was with his words, he liked to show how he felt through actions. Whether it was small, wholesome acts like preparing your coffee in the mornings or carrying your book. Or slightly less innocent acts when he would hold your hips and fuck into you until you couldn’t keep yourself up.
Actions spoke louder than words was a philosophy Remus strongly believed in.
Except when he got in certain moods, quite like the one he was in currently. 
He would become needier and more touchy. His hands would always be touching you in some way, his lips always near your ear so he could whisper in your ear just how much he needed you. And when Remus got this vocal, it drove you wild. It drove you fucking crazy because you could have him whining and begging for you the way he did to you. 
“My pretty boy,” you sighed, nails tracing down his panting his chest and along the ridges of his abs. His hips jumped, his hands pulling at the ropes that had magically restrained him to the headboard. His cheeks were flushed pink, his lips swollen and red from biting them and his cock was buried deep inside you, your walls clenching around him tightly. 
“Please, baby, please,” he whimpered, his chest heaving as you slowly began to move up and down his cock, the tempo nowhere near enough for him. “Fuck me, please. Fuck me.”
“Yeah?” you murmured as you leaned down, lips brushing against his Adam's apple as he tried to buck his hips up into you. “Want me to fuck my pretty boy dumb?”
“Please,” he moaned out, his lips parting with a silent scream as you began to speed up, bouncing on his cock until his eyes were rolling back. “Shit. Shit, you feel so good, so fucking good, love.”
“Fuck, you fill me up so good, baby,” you moaned into his ear, your voice a little whiny as you kept rolling your hips against his. “So fucking deep inside me, Remus, it feels so good.”
“Shit, I-I can’t—”
“Shh,” you cooed, the mocking tone of your voice only spurring him on as your fingers ran through his hair before tugging softly. “Be a good boy and come for me, love.” 
His moans were whiny and pathetic as he came, his cock still buried in you as your lips and teeth marked up the column of his neck until he was shaking beneath you, far too lost in the pleasure and you to care about anything else.
“You look so pretty when you come,” you whispered against his lips.
.
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sneezypeasy · 2 months
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Why I Deliberately Avoided the "Colonizer" Argument in my Zutara Thesis - and Why I'll Continue to Avoid it Forever
This is a question that occasionally comes up under my Zutara video essay, because somehow in 2 hours worth of content I still didn't manage to address everything (lol.) But this argument specifically is one I made a point of avoiding entirely, and there are some slightly complicated reasons behind that. I figure I'll write them all out here.
From a surface-level perspective, Zuko's whole arc, his raison d'etre, is to be a de-colonizer. Zuko's redemption arc is kinda all about being a de-colonizer, and his redemption arc is probably like the most talked about plot point of ATLA, so from a basic media literacy standpoint, the whole argument is unsound in the first place, and on that basis alone I find it childish to even entertain as an argument worth engaging with, to be honest.
(At least one person in my comments pointed out that if any ship's "political implications" are problematic in some way, it really ought to be Maiko, as Mai herself is never shown or suggested to be a strong candidate for being a de-colonizing co-ruler alongside Zuko. If anything her attitudes towards lording over servants/underlings would make her… a less than suitable choice for this role, but I digress.)
But the reason I avoided rebutting this particular argument in my video goes deeper than that. From what I've observed of fandom discourse, I find that the colonizer argument is usually an attempt to smear the ship as "problematic" - i.e., this ship is an immoral dynamic, which would make it problematic to depict as canon (and by extension, if you ship it regardless, you're probably problematic yourself.)
And here is where I end up taking a stand that differentiates me from the more authoritarian sectors of fandom.
I'm not here to be the fandom morality police. When it comes to lit crit, I'm really just here to talk about good vs. bad writing. (And when I say "good", I mean structurally sound, thematically cohesive, etc; works that are well-written - I don't mean works that are morally virtuous. More on this in a minute.) So the whole colonizer angle isn't something I'm interested in discussing, for the same reason that I actually avoided discussing Katara "mothering" Aang or the "problematic" aspects of the Kataang ship (such as how he kissed her twice without her consent). My whole entire sections on "Kataang bad" or "Maiko bad" in my 2 hour video was specifically, "how are they written in a way that did a disservice to the story", and "how making them false leads would have created valuable meaning". I deliberately avoided making an argument that consisted purely of, "here's how Kataang/Maiko toxic and Zutara wholesome, hence Zutara superiority, the end".
Why am I not willing to be the fandom morality police? Two reasons:
I don't really have a refined take on these subjects anyway. Unless a piece of literature or art happens to touch on a particular issue that resonates with me personally, the moral value of art is something that doesn't usually spark my interest, so I rarely have much to say on it to begin with. On the whole "colonizer ship" subject specifically, other people who have more passion and knowledge than me on the topic can (and have) put their arguments into words far better than I ever could. I'm more than happy to defer to their take(s), because honestly, they can do these subjects justice in a way I can't. Passing the mic over to someone else is the most responsible thing I can do here, lol. But more importantly:
I reject the conflation of literary merit with moral virtue. It is my opinion that a good story well-told is not always, and does not have to be, a story free from moral vices/questionable themes. In my opinion, there are good problematic stories and bad "pure" stories and literally everything in between. To go one step further, I believe that there are ways that a romance can come off "icky", and then there are ways that it might actually be bad for the story, and meming/shitposting aside, the fact that these two things don't always neatly align is not only a truth I recognise about art but also one of those truths that makes art incredibly interesting to me! So on the one hand, I don't think it is either fair or accurate to conflate literary "goodness" with moral "goodness". On a more serious note, I not only find this type of conflation unfair/inaccurate, I also find it potentially dangerous - and this is why I am really critical of this mindset beyond just disagreeing with it factually. What I see is that people who espouse this rhetoric tend to encourage (or even personally engage in) wilful blindness one way or the other, because ultimately, viewing art through these lens ends up boxing all art into either "morally permissible" or "morally impermissible" categories, and shames anyone enjoying art in the "morally impermissible" box. Unfortunately, I see a lot of people responding to this by A) making excuses for art that they guiltily love despite its problematic elements and/or B) denying the value of any art that they are unable to defend as free from moral wickedness.
Now, I'm not saying that media shouldn't be critiqued on its moral virtue. I actually think morally critiquing art has its place, and assuming it's being done in good faith, it absolutely should be done, and probably even more often than it is now.
Because here's the truth: Sometimes, a story can be really good. Sometimes, you can have a genuinely amazing story with well developed characters and powerful themes that resonate deeply with anyone who reads it. Sometimes, a story can be all of these things - and still be problematic.*
(Or, sometimes a story can be all of those things, and still be written by a problematic author.)
That's why I say, when people conflate moral art with good art, they become blind to the possibility that the art they like being potentially immoral (or vice versa). If only "bad art" is immoral, how can the art that tells the story hitting all the right beats and with perfect rhythm and emotional depth, be ever problematic?
(And how can the art I love, be ever problematic?)
This is why I reject the idea that literary merit = moral virtue (or vice versa) - because I do care about holding art accountable. Even the art that is "good art". Actually, especially the art that is "good art". Especially the art that is well loved and respected and appreciated. The failure to distinguish literary critique from moral critique bothers me on a personal level because I think that conflating the two results in the detriment of both - the latter being the most concerning to me, actually.
So while I respect the inherent value of moral criticism, I'm really not a fan of any argument that presents moral criticism as equivalent to literary criticism, and I will call that out when I see it. And from what I've observed, a lot of the "but Zutara is a colonizer ship" tries to do exactly that, which is why I find it a dishonest and frankly harmful media analysis framework to begin with.
But even when it is done in good faith, moral criticism of art is also just something I personally am neither interested nor good at talking about, and I prefer to talk about the things that I am interested and good at talking about.
(And some people are genuinely good at tackling the moral side of things! I mean, I for one really enjoyed Lindsay Ellis's take on Rent contextualising it within the broader political landscape at the time to show how it's not the progressive queer story it might otherwise appear to be. Moral critique has value, and has its place, and there are definitely circumstances where it can lead to societal progress. Just because I'm not personally interested in addressing it doesn't mean nobody else can do it let alone that nobody else should do it, but also, just because it can and should be done, doesn't mean that it's the only "one true way" to approach lit crit by anyone ever. You know, sometimes... two things… can be true… at once?)
Anyway, if anyone reading this far has recognised that this is basically a variant of the proship vs. antiship debate, you're right, it is. And on that note, I'm just going to leave some links here. I've said about as much as I'm willing/able to say on this subject, but in case anyone is interested in delving deeper into the philosophy behind my convictions, including why I believe leftist authoritarian rhetoric is harmful, and why the whole "but it would be problematic in real life" is an anti-ship argument that doesn't always hold up to scrutiny, I highly recommend these posts/threads:
In general this blog is pretty solid; I agree with almost all of their takes - though they focus more specifically on fanfic/fanart than mainstream media, and I think quite a lot of their arguments are at least somewhat appropriate to extrapolate to mainstream media as well.
I also strongly recommend Bob Altemeyer's book "The Authoritarians" which the author, a verified giga chad, actually made free to download as a pdf, here. His work focuses primarily on right-wing authoritarians, but a lot of his research and conclusions are, you guessed it, applicable to left-wing authoritarians also.
And if you're an anti yourself, welp, you won't find support from me here. This is not an anti-ship safe space, sorrynotsorry 👆
In conclusion, honestly any "but Zutara is problematic" argument is one I'm likely to consider unsound to begin with, let alone the "Zutara is a colonizer ship" argument - but even if it wasn't, it's not something I'm interested in discussing, even if I recognise there are contexts where these discussions have value. I resent the idea that just because I have refined opinions on one aspect of a discussion means I must have (and be willing to preach) refined opinions on all aspects of said discussion. (I don't mean to sound reproachful here - actually the vast majority of the comments I get on my video/tumblr are really sweet and respectful, but I do get a handful of silly comments here and there and I'm at the point where I do feel like this is something worth saying.) Anyway, I'm quite happy to defer to other analysts who have the passion and knowledge to give complicated topics the justice they deserve. All I request is that care is taken not to conflate literary criticism with moral criticism to the detriment of both - and I think it's important to acknowledge when that is indeed happening. And respectfully, don't expect me to give my own take on the matter when other people are already willing and able to put their thoughts into words so much better than me. Peace ✌
*P.S. This works for real life too, by the way. There are people out there who are genuinely not only charming and likeable, but also generous, charitable and warm to the vast majority of the people they know. They may also be amazing at their work, and if they have a job that involves saving lives like firefighting or surgery or w.e, they may even be the reason dozens of people are still alive today. They may honestly do a lot of things you'd have to concede are "good" deeds.
They may be all of these things, and still be someone's abuser. 🙃
Two things can be true at once. It's important never to forget that.
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gay-dorito-dust · 7 months
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Type of men I think MK1 men are; (ft an ooc Shang Tsung.)
Tomas is the type to…hold you after a long, strenuous day.
Or recharging as you jokingly called it while combing your fingers through his silver hair, your form of method as to getting him to relaxing quicker. Too tired to argue against this, Tomas would ignore it by burying his heavy head deep into your neck as his eye lashes brushed gently against your skin, tickling you into laughing with their tender kisses; a sound that Tomas always found heavenly, he smiles softly before drifted off into a peaceful slumber with you following suit.
You looked like two kittens or otters cuddling up to one another…it’s too cute, especially when your foreheads were touching.
Raiden is the type to…stare at you longingly from across the room as though there was no one else beside you and you alone.
The way he would look at you was as though you were the one to pin up the stars against the blackened night sky, it was such a sweet and wholesome look that it was near enough impossible not to feel slightly exposed underneath his adoring gaze. But it was a nice feeling, a warm feeling that didn’t fail to make you smile, it was amazing with how much this man could make you feel some many things with just his gaze alone.
Raiden is also the type to lay his head into your lap, the first time he does, he was a little awkward and stiff but was quick to find himself becoming comfortable in laying upon your lap, feeling as though it was a blessing from the gods that he was able able to be so close to you, getting to admire you and engrave your facial features and imperfections as though he would a masterpiece.
Liu Kang and Kuai Liang are the type to…dedicate themselves to you.
These men would wait on you hand and foot for all eternity if they could but they show their dedication in other ways, whether that be helping you make the bed, breakfast, making you something to drink, help prepare dinner, help clean throughout the house, take care of you while your sick, injured, or even helping you through your rehabilitation but the most importantly and their most favourite task of all; keeping you warm during the cold nights.
They both know that they ran warm, warmer then most men and they know you knew that also. So they would take advantage of this fact and would have you cuddled up against him protectively, softly kissing your forehead before adjusting you into a more comfortable position. Blankets are not required since they’re so fucking warm, but they wouldn’t mind if you one draped over you for even more comfort.
As long as they get to provide for you and keep you safe from all harm, you could get away with asking anything of them -within reason- because after all they’re dedicated to taking care of your every need.
Bi-han is the type to…prefer less occupied spaces over loud, rambunctious ones, especially when he’s spending time with you.
He wishes for all of his attention to be directed towards you but found it near enough impossible when in social situations, where both of your attentions is dragged in every which way, every which way except each other.
So when given the chance to be alone with one another, Bi-Han finds himself able to breath properly and clear his head of all daily distractions to focus on the here and now. You could be taking a walk, neither one of you wanted to ruin the peaceful silence that hung between you two by speaking, and instead take comfort within each other’s presence and how your hands and shoulders would brush against one another.
You were both safe, alive and just being within the others lines of sight was all either of you needed to know that everything was going to be okay.
Bonus character;
Shang Tsung is the type to…know the smallest, most intimate details about yourself. So much so that he might as well have an entire part of his mind dedicated to each and every one of your facets that he was acquainted with.
He knows you inside and out but lives to know more because Shang Tsung is a firm believer in knowledge being power and all that. It’s up to you to decided whether or not it’s for a manipulation tactic on his end. He’s not exactly an trustable character…unless your dream was to have man as foul as him to know your person on a personal level; perhaps it’s in hopes of finding common ground? Or something else entirely.
Shang Tsung is the type to… spoil you rotten.
Speak upon whatever your heart desires and he shall make it become reality tenfold. Nothing was too big or small was much trouble for Shang Tsung. He lives to give you gifts and thrives off of the reactions that you’d give upon receiving them. Not only was it served as a reminder to you that even the things you believed were unobtainable were easily accessible to someone like him, but also a mere showcase of his seemingly endless capabilities.
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kiame-sama · 3 months
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Little Spider, Fun and Games- (Yan!Chrollo x Reader)
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Warnings; fem reader, yandere, yandere behavior, yandere relationship, blood, murder, causal slaughter, mention of kidnapping, chronic illness (narcolepsy), troupe opinions, fluff with murderers, a bit of domestic cuteness, nsfw, somnophilia, rando insults reader, unnamed character death,
By selecting read more you consent to view the content included and affirm you are of age to view content.
If you are a minor, go the hell away. This fic is not for you.
~~~~~~~~
You shivered slightly as another howl of wind whistled through the building, metal struts groaning from the force. A sudden warmth wrapped around you and you glanced over to see Chrollo had placed his coat over your shoulders. Truly, you hadn't even been aware that he was keeping tabs on you, but it didn't surprise you to find out either.
Chrollo was always ensuring your needs were met and quickly taken care of regardless of the situation you two may be in. Luckily the current situation you were in was a familiar one, hiding out in some abandoned building until whatever heist Chrollo has planned goes into motion.
"You seem cold, Little Spider."
"Yeah, I am kinda cold. We don't usually go anywhere like this for a heist..."
"How about I warm you up?"
"Chrollo, not here..!"
"I meant by using my nen, dear. What were you thinking?"
You felt the flustered feeling in your chest as you tried to avoid eye-contact with him, knowing he was thrilled to be teasing you. He had been suggestive for a reason, and you walked directly into his trap. There was little more that amused Chrollo beyond seeing you get so adorably flustered by his absolute lack of shame and open flirting.
"Ugh," the scoff that came from Feitan surprised you as the troupe didn't often comment on the relationship you had with their beloved boss, "too damn cute, stop."
You were almost hurt by the callous words before you realized that he meant your interactions were quite cute. The two of you were being painfully sweet with your domestic behavior and casual flirting. Everyone in the Troupe found the relationship you had with Chrollo to be extremely wholesome regardless of his less than wholesome personality.
It was obvious- even to you- how much Chrollo favored you over anyone else.
~~~~~~~~
Waking up was usually very difficult for you, even on a good day. From the alluring pull of sleep to the rather comfortable feeling of a bed, everything worked against you. Even your lover was just another contributing factor to your constant desire to sleep.
Chrollo contributed to your need for sleep in plenty of ways, but the most prominent being his rather unusual appetite for intimacy with you. It did give you a twinge of pride to know that he was so addicted to you that he sought out intimate behavior and actions whenever he could. But Chrollo had more energy than you did and it was rare that the man ever actually slept.
As if to balance the difference in sleeping habits and physical needs, Chrollo had developed quite the kink for Somnophilia. So on the evenings where you dozed off early or spend an extended time sleeping, you fully anticipated him to help himself to your sleeping form. This is why you were not particularly surprised to wake face-down with your hips propped up and a distinctly familiar voice moaning.
A loud moan from you let him know you woke up, feeling an intense pulse of pleasure from being caught. Though you were quite alright with his somnophilic behavior, he still felt a certain thrill if you ever woke up while he was on top of you. The act of being caught doing perverse things with your sleeping body was just the thing his narcissism needed when it came to his perception of his hold over you.
Chrollo continued pounding into you frantically, feeling your walls tighten around him and coax him closer to his orgasm. Your moans were punctuated by each thrust, somewhat muffled as you gripped tightly to the bed beneath you. It didn't take long for the feeling to overtake you as you were practically thrown into your climax, feeling your walls trying to clamp down on his pounding cock. He was quick to follow and let out a groan of satisfaction, thrusting a few more times just to squeeze out every last bit of cum.
As the afterglow of your orgasm faded away, you felt Chrollo lay his body over yours and gently kiss your neck. His arms wrapped around your waist as he pressed as physically close to you as possible. You could feel the way your heart seemed frantic in comparison to his heartbeat which rolled in a steady rhythm in his chest.
"It seems you've caught me red-handed, Little Spider."
Chrollo could only chuckle as you failed to respond, still catching your breath and trying to adjust to being awake. No matter how many times he got to see you fall to pieces in his hands, he would always feel such a thrill just being with you. Years without significant amounts of emotion left him drowning in a cocktail of dopamine and serotonin that he was almost dangerously addicted to.
"It's not often I get caught, what ever should I do to convince you to keep this between us, hm?"
"How about another round?"
"Darling, I thought you'd never ask."
~~~~~~~~
"I'm here to make a deal with the leader of the Phantom Troupe, not some dumb slut."
The words echoed in your mind as the arrogant man sneered at you, clearly having a rather negative opinion of you and your presence. Though his words shouldn't have bothered you, they actually managed to sting more than a little bit.
There was a long moment of silence as you turned away, not wanting to look at the man who so gleefully insulted you. Naturally, the Spiders- that had been rather bored and relaxed when the man approached- were all furiously glaring at the man now. The Spiders cared about you just as they cared about Chrollo and the man insulting you easily set them all off.
"There are two leaders of the Phantom Troupe. Myself and Little Spider. What deal do you think you could make with us when you so blatantly disrespect one of the leaders of the Troupe?"
The man seemed confused before he glanced at you again, the weight of his folly suddenly smacking him in the face as he realized what he just did. He seemed to now take note of the many eyes glaring at him venomously despite how slight the offense may have seemed at first glance. The only thing that could save him was your forgiveness, and with how you refused to look at him, he was unlikely to recieve such a blessing.
"Wait, but I- hey!"
He struggled against the crushing grip of both Machi and Feitan as they forced him into a kneeling position, his arms twisted and being slowly crushed. Despite his clear discomfort and upset tone, you still refused to look at him or at any of the Troupe. Chrollo took this as a sign that you would not forgive the transgression and acted accordingly.
All the man could do was let out a choked sound as his arms were suddenly removed, a ballpoint pen sticking out of his forehead. He collapsed forward into the dirt floor and silence once again returned to the Troupe. You refused to look back before Chrollo wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder.
"Are you okay, Little Spider?"
"I guess."
"Don't worry about what that fool said, you are much more than that to me. And if anyone else tries to insult you, I'll kill them."
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