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wifelinkmtg · 9 months

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TUMBLR POST EDITOR WON'T LET ME TITLE THIS POST ANYMORE SO I GUESS THIS IS THE TITLE NOW. WEBBED SITE INNIT

So let's say you grew up in the nineties and that The Lion King was an important movie to you. Let's say that the character of Scar - snarling, ambitious, condescending, effeminate Scar - stirred feelings in you which you had no words for as a child. And then let's say, many years later, you're talking about it with a college friend, and you say something like, "oh man, I think Scar was some sort of gay awakening for me," and she fixes you with this level stare and says, "Scar was a fascist. What's the matter with you?"

The immediate feeling is not unlike missing a step: hang on, what's happening, what did I miss? You knew there were goose-stepping hyenas in "Be Prepared," but you didn't think it mattered that much. He's the bad guy, after all, and the movie's just pointing it out. Your friend says it's more than that: the visuals of the song are directly referencing the Nuremberg rallies. They're practically an homage to Riefenstahl. This was your sexual awakening? Is this why you're so into peaked caps and leather, then? Subliminal nazi kink, perhaps?

And then one of your other friends cuts in. "Hold up," he says, "let's think about what Scar actually did in the movie. He organized a group of racialized outcasts and led them against a predatory monarchy. Why are you so keen to defend their hereditary rule? Scar's the good guy here." The conversation immediately descends into a verbal slap fight about who the real bad guy is, whether Scar's regime was actually responsible for the ecological devastation of the Pride Lands, whether the hyenas actually count as "racialized" because James Earl Jones voiced Mufasa after all. Your Catholic friend starts saying some strange and frankly concerning shit about Natural Law. Someone brings The Lion King 2 into it. You leave the conversation feeling a little bit lost and a little bit anxious. What were we even talking about?

INTRODUCING: THE DITCH

There is a way of reading texts which I'm afraid is pervasive, which has as its most classical expression the smug obsession with trivia and minutiae you find in a certain vein of comic book fan. "Who was the first Green Lantern? What was his weakness? Do you even know the Green Lantern Oath?" It eschews the subjective in favor of definitively knowable fact. You can't argue with this guy that, say, Alan Scott shouldn't really count as the first Green Lantern because his whole deal is so radically different from the Hal Jordan/John Stewart/Guy Gardner Corps-era Lanterns, because this guy will simply say "but he's called Green Lantern. Says so right on the cover. Checkmate." This approach to reading a text is fundamentally 1) emotionally detached (there's a reason the joke goes, oh you like X band? name three of their songs - and not, which of their songs means the most to you? which of them came into your life at exactly the right moment to tell you exactly what you needed to hear just then?) and 2) defensive. It's a stance that is designed not to lose arguments. It says so right on the cover. Checkmate.

And then you get the guys who are like "well obviously Bruce Wayne could do far more as a billionaire to solve societal problems by using his tremendous wealth to address systemic issues instead of dressing up as a bat and punching mental patients in the head," and these guys have half a point but they're basically in the same ditch butting heads with the "well, actually" guys, and can we not simply extricate ourselves from the ditch entirely?

So, okay, let's return to our initial example. Scar is portrayed using Nazi iconography - the goose-stepping, the monumentality, the Nuremberg Lichtdom. He is also flamboyant and effete. He unifies and leads a group of downtrodden exiles to overthrow an absolute monarch. He's also a self-serving despot on whose rule Heaven Itself turns its back. You can't reconcile these things from within the ditch - or if you can, the attempt is likely to be ad-hoc supposition and duct tape.

Instead, let's ask ourselves what perspective The Lion King is coming from. What does it say is true about the world? What are its precepts, its axioms?

There is a natural hierarchical order to the world. This is just and righteous and the way of things, and attempts to overthrow this order will be punished severely by the world itself.

Fascism is what happens when evil men attempt to usurp this natural order with the aid of a group or groups of people who refuse to accept their place in the order.

There exists an alternative to defending and adhering to one's place in the natural order - it consists only of selfish spineless apathy.

Manliness is an essential quality of a just ruler. Unmanliness renders a person unfit for rule, and often resentful and dangerous as well.

And isn't that interesting, laid out like that? It renders the entire argument about the movie irrelevant (except for whatever your Catholic friend was on about, since his understanding of the world seems to line up with the above precepts weirdly well.) It's meaningless to argue about whether Scar was a secret hero or a fascist, when the movie doesn't understand fascism and has a damn-near alien view of what good and evil are.

There's always gonna be someone who, having read this far, wants to reply, "so, what? The Lion King is a bad movie and the people who made it were homophobes and also American monarchists, somehow? And anyone who likes it is also some sort of gay-bashing crypto-authoritarian?" To which I have to reply, man, c'mon, get out of the ditch. You're no good to anyone in there. Take my hand. I'm going to pull on three. One... two...

SO PHYREXIA [PAUSE FOR APPLAUSE, GROANS]

We're talking about everyone's favorite ichor-drooling surgery monsters again because there was a bit in my ~*~seminal~*~ essay Transformation, Horror, Eros, Phyrexia which seemed to give a number of readers quite a bit of trouble: namely, the idea that while Phyrexia is textually fascist, their aesthetic is incompatible with real-world fascism, and further, that this aesthetic incompatibility in some way outweighs the ways in which they act like a fascist nation in terms of how we think of them. I'll take responsibility here: I don't think that point is at all clear or well-argued in that essay. What I was trying to articulate was that the text of Magic: the Gathering very much wants Phyrexia to be supremely evil and dangerous fascists, because that makes for effective antagonists, but in the process of constructing that, it's accidentally encoded a whole bunch of fascinating presuppositions that end up working at cross-purposes with its apparent aim. That's... not that much clearer, is it? Hmm. Why don't I just show you what I mean?

Atraxa, Grand Unifier (art by Marta Nael)

In "Beneath Eyes Unblinking," one of the March of the Machine stories by K. Arsenault Rivera, there's a fascinating and I think revealing passage in which Atraxa (big-deal Phyrexianized angel and Elesh Norn's lieutenant) has a run-in with an art museum in New Capenna. The first thing I want to talk about is that, in this passage, Atraxa has no understanding of the concept of "beauty". A great deal of space in such a rushed storyline is devoted to her trying to puzzle out what beauty means and interrogating the minds of her recently-compleated Capennan aesthetes to try and understand it. In the end, she is unable to conceive of beauty except as "wrongness," as anathema.

So my first question is, why doesn't Atraxa have any idea of beauty? This is nonsense, right? We could point to a previous story, "A Garden of Flesh," by Lora Gray, in which Elesh Norn explicitly thinks in terms of beauty, but that's a little bit ditchbound, isn't it? The better argument is to simply look at Phyrexian bodies, at the Phyrexian landscape, all of which looks the way it does on purpose, all of which has been shaped in accordance with the very real aesthetic preferences of Phyrexians. How you could look at the Fair Basilica and not understand that Phyrexians most definitely have an idea of beauty, even if you personally disagree with it, is baffling. This is a lot like the canonical assertion that Phyrexians lack souls, which is both contradicted elsewhere in canon and essentially meaningless, given Magic's unwillingness or inability to articulate what a soul is in its setting, and as with this, it seems the goal is simply to dehumanize Phyrexians, to render them alien, even at the cost of incoherence or internal contradiction.

Atraxa's progress through the museum is fascinating. It evokes the 1937 Nazi exhibit on "degenerate art" in Munich, but not at all cleanly. The first exhibit, which is of representational art, she angrily destroys for being too individualistic (a point of dissonance with the European fascist movements of the 20th century, which formed in direct antagonism to communism.) The second exhibit, filled with abstract paintings and sculptures, she destroys even more angrily for having no conceivable use (this is much more in line with the Nazi idea of "degenerate art", so well done there.) The third exhibit is filled with war trophies and reconstructions from a failed Phyrexian invasion of Capenna many years prior, which she is angriest of all with (and fair enough, I suppose.) But then, after she's done completely trashing the place, she spots a number of angel statues on the cathedral across the plaza, and she goes apeshit. In a fugue of white-hot rage, she pulverizes the angel heads, and here is where I have to ask my second question:

Why angels? If you are trying to invoke fascist attitudes toward art, big statues of angels are precisely the wrong thing for your fascist analogues to hate. Fascists love monumental, heroic representations of superhuman perfection. It's practically their whole aesthetic deal. I understand that we're foreshadowing the imminent defeat of Phyrexia at the hands of legions of angels and a multiversal proliferation of angel juice, but that just leads to the exact same question: why angels? To the best of my knowledge, the Phyrexian weakness to New Capennan angel juice is something invented for this storyline. They have, after all, been happily compleating angels since 1997. We could talk about the in-universe justification for why Halo specifically is so potent, but I don't remember what that justification is, and also don't care. Let's not jump back in the ditch, please. The point is, someone decided that this time, Phyrexia would be defeated by an angelic host, and what does that mean? What is the text trying to say? What are its precepts and axioms?

Let me ask you a question: how many physically disabled angels are there in Magic: the Gathering? How about transsexual angels? How many angels are there, on all of the cards that have ever been printed for Magic: the Gathering, that are even just a bit ugly? Do you get it yet? Or do you need me to spell it out for you?

SPELLING IT OUT FOR YOU

There is a kind of body which is bad. It is bad because it has been significantly altered from its natural state, and it is bad because it is repellent to our aesthetic sensibilities.

The bad kind of body is contagious. It spreads through contact. Sometimes people we love are infected, and then they become the bad kind of body too.

There is a kind of body which is good. It is good because it is pleasing to our aesthetic sensibilities, and it is good because it is unaltered from its (super)natural state.

A happy ending is when all the good bodies destroy or drive into hiding all of the bad bodies. A happy ending is when the bad bodies of the people we love are forcibly returned to being the good kind of body.

Do you get it now?

ENDNOTES

It's worth noting that the ditch is very similar to the white American Evangelical hermeneutics of "the Bible says it. I believe it. That settles it," the defensive chapter-and-verse-or-it-didn't-happen approach to reading a text, what Fred Clark of slacktivist calls "concordance-ism". I don't think that's accidental. We stand underneath centuries of people reading the Bible very poorly - how could that not affect how we read things today? We are participants in history whether we like it or not.

I sincerely hope I haven't come across as condescending in this essay. Close reading is legitimately difficult! They teach college courses on this stuff! And while it is frustrating to have my close readings interrogated by people who... aren't doing that, like. I do get it. I find myself back in the ditch all the time. This stuff is hard. It is also, sorry, crucial if you intend to say something about a text that's worth saying.

I also hope I've communicated clearly here. Magic story is sufficiently incoherent that trying to develop a thesis about it often feels like trying to nail jello to the wall. If anyone has questions, please ask them! And thank you for reading. Next time, we'll probably do the new Eldraine set.

#phyrexia #not defining the ditch except by implication #thanks to all the very smart vorthoi on the flavor text discord server for helping me work through my thoughts on fascism and phyrexia #this is technically the march of the machine review also #or as much of one as i care to do

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lovelytsunoda · 3 months

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give me a kiss (or three) // lando norris

summary: matching clothes shouldn't turn lando on this much.

pairing: lando norris x female reader

warnings: smut, the worst description I have ever written, it’s a lil bit cringe. lando has a nickname for his dick, and a box of flavoured condoms in his bedside drawer. lowkey inspired by an audio posted by the wonderful @2-fast-2-curious. (I took a lot of creative liberties and added a ton of things, but the base idea is still there), there's more laughter than sex in here my dudes-

seeing lando norris wrapped up in the soft pink bedspread should not have warmed her heart the way that it did.

she had slipped out of the bed and ducked across the hallway to use the bathroom, and when she came back, her chest seized at the sight of her lover, his arms wrapped around the massive section of duvet that she was previously buried under.

she never thought she'd see the day, and she never thought she could feel this way about someone who felt the same way back.

she slowly began to dress, careful not to make any noise in the small bedroom. not only would she prefer not to wake her roommates, lando himself was a light sleeper and he needed to be well rested before they went to visit her parents that afternoon.

"sweetheart?" lando mumbled, messy-haired and groggy as he began to surface from underneath the duvet. "its so early, what are you doing awake?"

"i have to run to tescos, and then i have boxing at ten." she smiled softly, tightening the strap on her lacy bralette. "i wanted to let you sleep in. you'll need all your energy for the drive later."

lando snorted, sitting up straight, his curls matted by sleep and sticking to his skin. "there's no way you're wearing a bra that nice to your boxing class."

"i'll change when i get there." she chuckled, leaning in to give him a quick kiss.

the blankets shifted with the movement, falling away from lando's thighs to where his royal blue boxers hugged his skin. the man looked down, and then over to the matching set his girlfriend was wearing before he let out a laugh.

"what's so funny?"

"your bra matches my underwear." lando snickered. "we match. a perfect pair."

she couldn't help but join in with her lovers laughter and mirth, looping her arm's around his neck with a chortle. his skin was warmed against hers, which had rapidly cooled since she had emerged from her blanket huddle and into the winter air that filled her home.

"you're so cringe." she giggled, standing between his legs, the slight shade of difference between their underclothes making her smile.

he was right. they were almost a perfect pair.

"cringe? you think i'm cringe?" lando feigned hurt, squeezing her sides playfully. he kissed her deeply, nipping at her bottom lip as his hands roamed her lower body.

the kiss was passionate, yet playful, smiles evident on both of their faces (even when lando slipped his tongue into her mouth, earning a surprised shout).

"not as cringe as the time-" she stopped midsentence, whining as lando ran his tongue along the sweet spot on her neck before diving back in to kiss her. "you wore the monoply boxers."

"i thought 'wanna go to jail" was a great line!"

"yeah, for a fifteen year old boy!"

"it still worked, didn't it?" lando laughed, grabbing at her thighs to roll them over.

the duvet was soft and pillowy around her, bunched up just enoough around her that it narrowed her field of vision. all that existed in that moment was her and lando.

just the way she liked it. she loved it when they were silly like this, playful and sexy at the same time. an experience that felt so uniquely like the two of them and their love, and ensured that they never got tired of being intimate with each other.

"am i still cringe when i've got your wrists pinned to the bed?" lando smirked, his body a comfortable weight against hers, her wrists cradled against the goose down.

"i dunno." she smiled arching upwards to press her lips against his. "why don't we find out?"

lando grinned at her, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "i like the way you think, but don't you have to go to boxing?"

"they won't miss me. i'm there three times a week as it is." she smiled, snaking one bare leg around his.

lando's touch was as familiar as her afternoon stretching routine. every brush of his fingertips against her skin made her feel powerful, like she could do anything. his lips were comfortable and warm against hers, yet new and exciting every time. lando's grip on her wrists let up, and she buried her fingers in his curls, tugging softly.

"fuck, babe. i love it when you do that." he moaned, lips dancing over the material of her bralette, tonguing at her peaked nipples.

"i know." she hummed, breath hitching. "oh, i love it when you do that."

"that's my girl." lando hummed, reverence in his eyes and a serene expression on his face as he continued to kiss across her collarbone, throughout the valley between her breasts. "you want my fingers, baby? want me to make you feel good?"

“please.” she keened, arching into him.

landos calloused fingers danced across her thigh, over the cluster of freckles that used to make her feel so insecure but he so dearly loved, reaching for the damp spot on her panties. his touch was feather light, running up and down her slit, barely applying any pressure at all.

“lando.” she breathed, making a show of spreading her legs wider for him.

“I’ve got you, sweet girl.” he hummed, tugging her panties to the side before dipping two fingers in with a moan. “all this for me? you’re so wet, love.”

“only for you.” she moaned, breath hitching as she dug her fingernails into landos shoulder blades, his tongue darting out to lick the sweat off her neck. “oh, baby.”

“such a good girl for me, taking my fingers so well.” he praised, using his free hand to guide her face towards his.

lando kissed her deeply, her hands moving to clutch his hair as his fingers fucked her deeper. every inch of her body was on fire with desire, pleasure pooling in her stomach, her lovers hard cock pressing against her stomach while he finger-fucked her to high heaven.

“oh my god, lando, fuck, I think I’m gonna-“

she didn’t have time to finish that thought before lando pulled his fingers out abruptly, making a show out of licking them off as she whined impatiently at her ruined orgasm.

“what the fuck, dude!”

lando just laughed, kissing her forehead. “payback, sweetheart. you called me cringe, so you don’t get to come.”

“fuck you.”

“I beleive you’re trying to.”

the room went awkwardly silent, so much so that you could hear a pin drop. and then, all at once, they both burst out laughing. the kind of laughter that makes your eyes water, your stomach start to hurt. Lando was laughing so hard that he dropped back onto the bed, bare chest heaving as he looked up at the ceiling.

“why the fuck did I say that?” he cackled.

“I don’t know!” she laughed back. “if it helps, I thought it was cute, and it really made me want to suck your dick.”

“yes, actually. that does help.” landos eyes brightened as she shifted his position, sliding his boxers down his legs. “little lando has missed your pretty face.”

“little lando? god I hate that you have a nickname for your penis.”

“we’ll, if you’re going to insult him like that-“

“shut up.” she breathed, kissing him with a smile. “do we have any of those flavoured condoms left?”

lando grinned. “watermelon or fruit punch?”

she slipped off the bed, foot tangling with the flat sheet as she crouched in front of the bedside table, digging through the drawer for the small red box, searching for the elusive fruit punch condom.

she had never been a fan of giving head. there was something about it that had always just icked her out, but lando made her want to try. she wanted to expand her horizons with him, not for him. it took a lot of trial and error, but they found a way: flavoured condoms. this way, it was more enjoyable for her as well as him. it was akin to a warm ice lolly, rather than a body part.

she deftly ripped the packaging open, sliding the rubber shield onto landos cock. she positioned herself between his legs, taking a few deep breaths before taking his cock in her mouth, hollowing her cheeks and running her tongue up and down the shaft.

“oh my god!” lando moaned, resisting the urge to buck his hips. getting blown was always a treat for him, considering that y/n didn’t enjoy it all the time, finding it more stressful than it was worth. but every time she did it, he was reminded just how incredible she was at it.

it was a treat, one that he would savour until the end of time.

he bit his lip to stifle a moan, dropping his hand to the back of her head. he was big in her mouth, weighty against her tongue. she closed her eyes, sucking gently.

“god, you’re so perfect.” lando whined, rubbing reassuring circles with his thumb on the side of her head. “taking me like such a good girl.”

she opened her eyes, chancing a look at the love of her life. she moaned at the sight of his rippling abs, body contorted in pleasure.

all because of her. she did that.

“fucking hell, honey. I think I’m gonna blow.”

lando came with a howl, hips stuttering as he came inside the condom sheath. she slipped off his cock quickly, leaving a trail of saliva behind as she made her way up his body to press a soft kiss to landos lips. using a handful of tissues, he slipped the condom off, balling it up and tossing it in the wastebasket. his breathing was heavy, but he was raring to go for more.

“sit on my cock, babe. ride me, please. I need it.”

she smiled, kissing him again. “now who’s the needy one?”

“shut up. do you want to come on my dick or not?” he joked, tickling her sides.

she playfully pushed him against the headboard before rooting around for another condom (a normal one, this time). she pressed the foil packet into lando's hand before getting to her feet and sliding off her soaked panties. she moved to take off her bra as well, but lando grabbed her arm, stopping her.

"keep it on, gorgeous."

and how could she argue when he was giving her puppy dog eyes?

she sunk down slowly, dramatically playing up her actions with some hair-fluffing and boob-primping. lando laughed underneath her, the sound distracting her from the sting as he stretched her out with his cock.

she shifted slowly at first, moving her hips in slow, torturous circles, biting her lip to stop a moan. her lover groaned, looking up at her with lust and reverence in his eyes.

"comfy?" he quipped, hands gently moving to grip her backside.

"very." she smiled, leaning in to kiss him.

lando wasted no time in guiding her movements, lifting her up and down on his cock like it was no effort at all. her fingernails dug into his shoulders, small pants coming out in quick breaths as she bounced on his length.

"oh my god, lando." she whined. "you feel so good. so good, baby."

"that's my girl." lando hummed, dotting kisses along her collarbone, his hands grabbing fistfuls of her ass. "only i get to see you like this, make you feel this good." he growled "and you're doing so so well for me, love."

if lando were to explain what having sex with his girlfriend was like in two words, he'd probably say coming home. she was his safe haven. they fit together like a glove, always seemed to know what the other needed without saying a word. and if they spent more time laughing than actually having sex, or fi their sex was goofier than it was seductive? that didn't matter to him. all that mattered was that they spent that time together.

just two people in love, showing the other just how much.

every bit of praise made her skin break out in goosebumps. she could feel herself dripping onto lando's thighs, but she didn't care. she just wanted to be close to him. as close as physically possible. she arched inwards, leaning against his chest for support as lando stopped moving her hips, instead thrusting his up rapidly to meet hers, a strangled moan escaping her throat.

"that's it, princess. you don't need to do any of the work. lando's got you." he cooed, pressing kisses to her sweaty forehead, whispering words of praise in between moans and grunts. animalistic sounds that just turned her on even more, pleasure reverberating throughout her body.

her slender fingers came up to tangle in his hair, tugging gently. lando moaned softly, angelically, his head tilted backwards and his eyes closed. it was a heavenly sight as he leaned down to sew her lips to his, walls beginning to contract against his cock.

"fuck, lando, go faster. i'm so close, baby." she whined, feeling him pick up the pace, hugging her body closer. she matched his movements, circling her hips and reaching a hand towards her clit.

"you coming, baby? you gonna come all over my thick, hard dick?" lando crooned. "touching yourself for me? getting yourself off on my cock."

"lando, please." she breathed, fingers rapidly moving against her swollen bud. she could feel herself getting closer, the band in her stomach getting tighter. "make me come."

he kissed her hard, thrusting deeper, the room echoing with the sounds of his skin slapping against hers, his guttural moans as his head fell back against the pillows. she could feel him release into the condom, his dick shuddering inside her, the latex getting warmer as it filled.

that was enough to trigger her own release, her juices pouring out of her, running down lando's shaft and dripping onto his thighs. she came with a cry of his name, bracing her hands against the headboard. her limbs felt like jelly as she tried to ease herself off him.

"easy does it." lando spoke softly, his voice raspy (as it usually was after sex), his touch gentle as he eased her down onto the bed. "remember to breathe, there's still water on the nightstand from last night. finish the glass, darling." he kissed her forehead softly before stripping himself of the condom and wiping her legs up with a handful of tissues. "come here."

she smiled, placing the now-empty ikea glass on the nightstand before curling up against him, wrapping her naked limbs over his, pulling the flat sheet over their bodies.

"this was a much better workout than boxing." she smiled, resting her head on his chest. "you're more fun than the coach is."

"i should hope so. i need to give you a reason to keep me around." lando joked, kissing her forehead. "i love you, my darling darling girl."

"i love you too, my handsome boy." she smiled, leaning up to kiss him, trailing a hand across his face as they kissed softly.

"by the way, this doesn't absolve you of driving to my mum's later. and yes, we're still going."

"god damn it! she always sends home with so much crap, i can't fit it all in the mclaren!"

TAGS:

@magnummagnussen @httpiastri @libraryofloveletters @diorleclerc @thatsdemko @scuderiamh @twinkodium @sidcrosbyspuck @cartierre @lorarri @userlando

#lando norris x reader #formula one x reader #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 smut #lando norris smut #lando norris fanfic #lando norris fluff #lando norris fic #lando norris x you #Spotify

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notmyneighbor · 1 month

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Back Alley - Doppelgänger Francis Mosses x Female Reader

Word Count 5k

Rating Explicit

CW - minor blood/injury, fluff and smut

Also available on AO3

The end of your shift. The quiet part of the evening.

Nestled downtown in the oldest part of the city, the diner you’re employed at as a waitress caters to DDD members and civilians alike. The final patrons have already filed out the front entrance, a pair of glass front doors with shiny chrome handles. You begin the process of closing the establishment for the evening, starting with a final wipe down of all the surfaces in the dining area while the young man that washes dishes works his way through the last batch of soiled utensils and plates and cups. You count the money in the register and gather the receipts, placing everything on the owner’s desk in the tiny office in back of the restaurant.

The adolescent has finished the washing in the kitchen and finds you putting leftover food scraps onto a plate, a snack for the stray cats that dwell in the alley behind the diner. He rocks on his heels, the apron he’d been wearing already removed and now anxiously wrung between his hands. “Did you want me to wait, or…”

You smile softly. “No, that’s alright. I’m just going to set this out and bring out the trash and I’ll be locking up. Go on home. Be safe.”

Needing no further encouragement, the youth darts from the kitchen. You shake your head ruefully, gathering the ends of the plastic bag in the kitchen’s rubbish bin together and knotting them. Balancing trash in one hand and the plate in the other, you manage to open the heavy steel door at the rear of the diner that leads to the alley.

Normally there are several strays to greet you as soon as you open the door, accustomed as they are to this nightly routine.

Tonight it takes you several moments to locate one solitary form after you’ve lobbed the bag into the dumpster and closed the lid, retrieving the plate you’d set by the back door.

You spy one of your usual clients hovering near the stockade fence further down the narrow passageway, a raggedy looking gray tabby with a torn ear that’s normally the friendliest of the bunch.

“Hey there. What’s wrong, you’re not hungry?” You walk forward a couple of steps, crouching down and holding out your empty hand, making little affectionate sounds to lure the animal closer.

In the distance you hear voices shouting. Not uncommon in the city, but you’re still wary as you straighten, leaving the plate on the ground.

The cat, still hunched by the fence, issues a warning growl.

You turn and see a shape moving from the opposite end of the alley where it divides into the main road, the hair on your bare forearms rising, the skin goose pimpling.

You whirl around, already making for the open door at your back, that slice of light inside a beacon that’s frustratingly so close and yet so far.

You don’t quite make it.

A hand reaches the door before you do, slamming it shut. It becomes a wall at your back as you shrink against it, recoiling from whatever just closed it.

No, not whatever. The strays knew what it was. Now you know, too.

A doppelgänger.

This one dressed in the uniform of a milkman, though his outfit had seen better days. Spattered with blood, you cannot find a single patch of the white shirt that doesn’t bear some trace of scarlet droplets. Shouting again in the distance, though this time it sounds closer.

You open your mouth to yell for help and a hand instantly clamps down over it. The doppel is breathing heavily. It must be the DDD pursuing him. Without the light of the diner’s interior, you can’t see much of the creature’s replicated features in the night shrouded alley. You wonder why he hasn’t killed you yet, your heart hammering like mad.

“I’m not going to hurt you. If you help me, I’ll do something for you in return.”

He was trying to bargain? Bad idea. Doppelgängers were notorious liars. By definition of their very existence they had to be masters of deceit. He must have been desperate if he was making this offer. Definitely being chased by the disposal team officers, the likely source of the shouting you’ve been hearing, the details of the situation coming together in your mind.

You can’t imagine a single thing the invader could offer you that you’d desire.

“I’m going to remove my hand. We’re going to go inside. You’re not going to make a sound. Agreed? Nod if you understand me.”

Wide eyed, nostrils flaring, you move your head, signaling your acceptance of his terms. What choice did you have?

The barrier over your mouth lifts and you’re pushed aside, firmly but without malice, the heavy door wrenched open. You’re shoved inside and the door is quickly shut again.

“Is the front door locked? Lights off?”

You nod, swallowing past a panicked lump in your throat as you take a couple of steps back away from the intruder.

The male copycat sighs, shoulders visibly sagging with relief.

He’s still hiding.

Still wearing the visage of the human he’d duplicated, a tired looking brunette male probably in his early thirties with tousled chestnut hair, shadowed under eyes, a long nose with the slightest bump along the bridge—an old injury that had never healed quite right, perhaps—set above thin lips.

The arm that’s been tucked tightly against his side the entire time, never once in use to restrain you or open the door, you realize, now lifts, exposing a gash across his lower abdomen, rent right through the fabric and severing the flesh beneath.

You’d incorrectly assumed the blood had been from a struggle with the original milkman he’d replicated, not from the alien himself. You suck in a deep breath, wincing as your eyes linger on the injury. “What happened?”

“Got cut jumping the fence.”

“That’s going to need stitches,” you observe as he drags the shirt’s hem free of his belted pants, hurriedly thumbing the buttons open and shrugging out of the garment, thrusting it into the garbage bin you hurriedly point to. The undershirt is similarly stained, but this he leaves in place, merely lifting the edge to better expose the wound.

His eyes meet yours. “Can you do it?”

“I mean, I’m not a physician. All I have is the sewing kit I keep in my purse to mend tears in an emergency. You need to see a doctor, go to the hospital…” Your voice trails off. Of course he couldn’t. He’d be killed instantly.

“Get it.”

You hesitate. Were you really going to risk helping this foreigner?

“Please,” he adds through gritted teeth. Perspiration beads his forehead. You wonder if he hasn’t already been exposed to something that would prove infectious later on. Not really your concern, though. You just needed to survive until you could get away from him. Somehow.

“Alright.” You don’t spare any more time debating about what the right course of action is. You grab one of the clean dish rags from under the kitchen sink and your purse stashed in the bottom desk drawer in the office.

The doppelgänger’s eyes remained fixed on your every movement, watching as you soak the wash cloth in warm water and pull the sewing kit from your purse, the fingers threading the needle shaking. You drag one of the chairs from the dining room for him to sit on, kneeling on the linoleum beside his seated form.

You hesitate again. You really didn’t have the appropriate kind of materials for this. Should you have heated the needle to try to sterilize it first? Was there even time for that? Would it be easier just to attempt to cauterize the area? Somehow you don’t think the invader would be keen on the idea of getting burned, even if the intention was to aid and not harm. “I don’t know that this is going to work, but I’ll do my best. This is going to hurt,” you caution.

“Worse than being cut open?” He asks bitterly.

“No, I suppose not.” You begin washing around the cut, scrubbing at the dried blood, trying to clean the edges of the laceration. It’s still weeping blood but the flow has slowed, the body’s natural clotting process coming into effect. The milkman he’s replicated is on the leaner side, with little softness in the abdomen you’re cleansing. “Why can’t you just replicate the skin again? Make it intact?”

“It doesn’t work like that. It’s penetrated through the outer layer. You humans are so fragile. It doesn’t take much to tear through…” He lets that thought remain unfinished.

You shiver, thinking of how, were circumstances different, he would’ve torn you to shreds without a second thought, murdering you at best, devouring you at worst. You can’t help but wonder if the doppel will turn on you once you finished patching him up.

“Okay, I’m going to try to start sewing.” Your heart is still thudding rapidly. Your eyes narrow in concentration as you pierce the skin, hurriedly seeking the adjacent flesh to sling the thread between, then drawing it taut. You’re feeling a little nauseous and lightheaded. You tell yourself you’re not piecing a person back together. Urging yourself to pretend it was something else. Mending a torn shirt. A ripped stuffed animal. Anything but the gruesome sight before you.

At last the task is completed, the pale skin sutured together. You sit back on your heels, heaving a raspy sigh, your hands clasped tightly together in your lap, willing them to stop trembling.

“You’re skilled,” the doppelgänger murmurs, looking over your handiwork, probing the closed incision gingerly. It is a rather impressive job if you’re being honest, a neat line of even stitches despite your shaking hands.

“You’ll need to keep this clean so it doesn’t get infected. And you can’t move around too much. I don’t know how well that thread will hold.” You gently push his questing digits away, applying gauze and tape from the first aid kit in the office to cover the wound and he eases the ripped undershirt back down.

“Thank you.”

Your eyes meet his. You’ve never heard of an invader asking a human for help. Being grateful. You don’t know what to make of it.

“I won’t forget this.”

You rise, tossing the used wash cloth in the trash and returning your sewing kit to the depths of your handbag. You return the chair to the dining room once he’s slid from it, watching as you settle your purse strap on your shoulder, keys to the diner in hand. The replicant opens the back door a crack, peeking outside, head cocked slightly, listening. No shouting. The DDD had passed through the area. He glances back at you a final time before slipping through the gap.

You lock the door behind him, then sag against it, exhaling a shuddering breath. He’d let you live, as promised. A doppelgänger that kept his word.

What did it mean?

***

He’s in the alley again.

You tell yourself you weren’t looking for the milkman’s clone every night for the last three shifts, merely taking out the garbage and feeding the strays per usual.

Your stomach does a little somersault as he approaches. His skin color is better, no longer so ghostly pale. The milkman uniform he’s wearing looks clean and crisp and starched. Where had he gotten it? Was he keeping a low profile, pretending to be the human he’s dressed as? There certainly seemed to be some transfer of knowledge that occurred when the replicants adopted a human form, intelligence information that surpasses beyond what could be obtained through just casual observation. The doppels knew so much about humans, and humans still knew so little about the invaders, what should have been a home field advantage hampered by the persistence of these alien visitors.

“How are you?” You greet him cautiously.

“Healing well. You did a fine job.”

What should you say to that? You’re glad you helped the enemy? You shudder to think what would happen if anyone ever found that out.

The doppelgänger steps closer. “Are you going to invite me inside?”

As if he was a vampire, seeking permission to grant entrance. You can’t imagine what he wants from you now.

Still, you push the door open wider. He eases past you, his body lightly brushing yours.

“What do you have to eat?”

“Um…” As far as you knew, the invaders only ate human flesh. “What…what did you want? I haven’t cleared out the displays yet. There’s pie, donuts from the morning, though those are probably stale by now. I can make you a sandwich, or…”

He follows you into the dining room as you list the possible offerings, reaching for one of the chocolate iced pastries tucked under the nearest glass dome. He takes an experimental bite and his mouth turns down in disgust at the flavor.

“I warned you they’d be stale.”

“It’s not that. It’s the sweetness. Overwhelming. We’re primarily carnivores.”

“Is turkey okay? Or maybe ham? I don’t know what to offer you.”

He tips his head to one side, considering. “Cow?”

“Yes, we have ground beef.”

“That would be preferable.”

“You just want it…raw?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.” There are a couple of defrosted packages in the fridge. You resolve to put some of your tip money towards the meal. You don’t like the idea of stealing from the restaurant.

It feels weird just handing him the styrofoam tray, but also silly to dump the mass of pink pulverized meat onto a plate. You refuse to watch him eat, studying one of the laminated menus resting on the counter intently, unfortunately catching a glimpse of him licking the traces of blood lingering at the bottom of the package when you dare to glance over at him.

“I’m aware this adds to the debt I owe you,” he says.

You discard the tray and fold your arms across your chest, trying to exude more confidence than you felt. “I’ll put it on your tab.”

A slight frown appears as the creature processes the phrase.

“It means adding it to the list of things you already owe that you intend to repay.”

“Ah. Yes, that.” He watches you finish cleaning up after his grim repast, wiping the counter down a final time before accompanying you to the front door and waiting as you lock the entrance from the outside, tugging on the chrome handles to make sure they’ve been secured properly. “Do you live nearby?”

“Yes,” you answer, suddenly wary.

“This is not a very safe part of town for humans,” he muses.

Is anywhere safe anymore?

“Is your living space guarded by the DDD?”

“Not internally. There’s just the street patrol.”

“I’ll accompany you as far as your destination, then.”

“You don’t have to.”

The doppelgänger insists, now walking beside you. It feels unwise to allow the invader to see where you live, but then again, had he done anything to harm you thus far? Surely there had been opportunity if that was his main goal. What was his main goal? What did he want, if not to consume, to take over control of the planet like his brethren?

“You’re not like the others,” you murmur your thoughts out loud, feeling the mimic’s eyes flick in your direction.

“Do you know many doppels?” He sounds bemused.

“No,” you reply, stepping over a broken bottle littering the pavement.

“Is every human the same?”

“Of course not.”

“So why should we be any different?”

“I guess you’re right,” you concede.

You’ve reach the end of the street you’re traveling on and take a right, leading the invader onward into another back alley. You’ve barely taken a few paces before the sound of heavy footsteps alerts you to someone else’s presence.

“Disposal team.” You hear the disgust and fear in your companion’s tone as he tenses, jerking to a halt. The sounds are getting louder as the guards draw closer. “Play along. They won’t be suspicious if they see a couple.”

Suddenly you’re pushed against the wall, so abruptly the air leaves your lungs, your next desperate intake of oxygen interrupted when the doppel’s mouth covers yours.

You feel you stomach do that little somersault motion again. His tongue finds the inside of your mouth. He tastes slightly metallic. The movements are inexperienced, clumsy. Imitating something he’s seen. The teeth that nip your bottom lip are sharp.

“Hey! You there! What’s going…” The DDD officer halts, the beam of the flashlight illuminating what appears as your lover pinning you against the wall, caught up in a moment of passion. You don’t even have to fake the look of embarrassment as your eyes shyly meet the guard’s, the doppel’s mouth sliding from yours.

“Sorry, sir. Just picked my girl up from work and I couldn’t wait.” He offers a sheepish grin that looks extremely convincing.

The DDD member’s partner draws even with his cohort, the gun in his hand lowering, looking over the pastel yellow dress you’re wearing.

“I know you. You work over at the diner.”

You nod frantically.

“You should get on home. It isn’t safe out here. Even with your man with you. Especially not down the side streets.”

“Sorry, that was my idea. My feet are killing me and I just wanted to get home faster.” You pause, reaching for your purse still slung over your shoulder. “Did you want to see our IDs?”

“Nah, that’s alright. Imagine a doppel making out with a human. Right?” He elbows his companion, grinning.

“Get home safe, now. No more dallying,” the older of the pair cautions before abandoning you, resuming patrol with the more inexperienced member who’s still wearing a smirk as he trails slightly behind, darting one more glance in your direction as if hoping to catch you in the act again.

The copycat heaves a sigh of relief when they’ve both finally departed, the booted steps receding in the distance. His eyes lock with yours, and you see his nostrils flare slightly, a slight frown wrinkling the bridge of his nose, then his eyelids lift, whatever mystery he’s been puzzling over solved.

“You liked that.”

“What?” It’s your turn to be confused.

“You liked what we just did.”

Oh. Your cheeks flush again. “No, I…I was just playing along, like you said. You caught me off guard.”

“You did a good job. Thinking on your feet. Admirable, really. How deep in debt I’m getting,” the doppel hums beside your cheek. He hasn’t shifted much since your discovery, one hand still braced on the wall at your back, his body leaning close to yours. “You smell good. Good enough to eat.”

You shiver and gasp. “You promised me you wouldn’t hurt me.”

“No, no. Not what I had in mind at all,” he hurriedly reassures you. The clone of the milkman plants a kiss on the side of your neck. Gentle. Not rushed, not under the guise of something to trick the guards. Repeating the process, getting accustomed to using the human body he’s replicated for this new task. He kisses your lips again, and you know you should be repulsed.

You’re not.

Your mouth parts for his, inviting him inside. He’s already growing more skilled, the tongue against yours slick, deft, curling and stroking, the fire he’d begun stoking in your core flaring anew.

You’re French kissing a doppelgänger, and you like it.

You feel a hand caressing down your body, pausing to drag the purse off your shoulder, then kneading one breast before sliding down to your hip, moving neatly around to grope the curve of one buttocks cheek. The fingers curl, dragging up the fabric of your dress.

“I can smell your arousal. Your body wants to mate.” It’s crass, vulgar, sheer filth the alien should be slapped for uttering, but there’s nothing derogatory in the way he mentions it, the words of observation that he spreads before your lips lilted with a kind of wonder, fascination, curiosity. He’s finally reached the hem of the skirt portion of your work uniform, shifting quickly to the waistband of the panties you’re wearing, dipping underneath and nudging at the fork of your body.

To be doing this, with a doppelgänger, in public…

Your legs are already shifting, your stance broadening slightly to grant him better access. A little grunt of satisfaction, and then his fingers glide through your slickened folds, searching for the source of that dampness.

You moan softly, disappointed when the fingers do not linger, instead brought up to the invader’s lips, his thumb rolling the slick of your sex over the pads of his index and middle fingers curiously before he thrusts them into his mouth, a fresh flood leaking from your canal as you watch his eyes slide closed, a sound of some rapturous enjoyment hummed around those digits.

He kneels down, the movement swift and smooth, your eyes darting nervously to the lit street so close and yet so far, the last of the street lamp glow’s reach ending just beyond the shadows you’re standing in. The doppel looks up at you and you bury a hand in the thick mane of chestnut hair, a tender gesture of permission, pleading. You don’t know if he’d stop even if you’d declined the offer, that ravenous look in his eyes intense as he impatiently shifts the hem of your dress again, dragging away the flimsy undergarment that clothes your sex, this last barrier discarded carelessly on the pavement nearby.

Your low heeled pumps scrape against the dirty gravel of the alley as you adjust your position, the alien’s face instantly at your pussy, nose digging into your mound, tongue laving the rosy sensitive flesh. He groans and you echo the sound, your legs already trembling as his tongue delves deeper, dragging fluid back, the inadvertent flick of the tip of the curled muscle against your bud making you gasp and moan, your head rocking back against the brick and mortar.

His attention focuses on that sensitive bundle of nerve endings, mouth clamping over it and sucking, slurping, nursing at it until you see spots in front your eyes. You know you’re being loud, your only saving grace being that the building at your back is a long abandoned shirt factory with no one to hear your lewd sounds of pleasure.

His fingers are at your entrance again, paired to penetrate into that opening. The milkman he’s imitating has long fingers that reach deep, curling and twisting inside, scooping out more of your arousal for him to lap at before he sups at your pussy, drinking straight from the source.

You bite your bottom lip until it bleeds when you climax, shuddering against that incessant mouth worshipping your cunt, your fingers knotting restlessly in his tresses. You cum like a freight train, hard and fast, an unstoppable force driving you right through into bliss.

He’s still lapping, enjoying the taste of you, this new creamier substance that emerges from deep within after your release. You can’t tolerate it any longer, now shoving gently at his shoulders, pleading you’re too sensitive, it’s too much, you feel as if you might faint if not for the strong building exterior supporting your spine.

The doppelgänger rises, face wet with your juices smeared across his mouth and chin and cheeks, a distinct shine visible even in this dim illumination. “Delicious,” he growls softly, dragging his fingers over his dampened features and then nursing them clean.

His gaze focuses on the smear of crimson on your lower lip and he licks at that spot, sucking the wedge into his mouth, tasting that little copper tinged leakage of your lifeforce. You whimper and keen, feeling his hand guide one of yours to his crotch, pressing it against the erection straining there.

You squeeze gently and he huffs in pleasure, dragging your hand up and down. Needing no further guidance, you begin struggling with the belt buckle and button closure and zipper keeping you from your goal, dragging his cock through the opening flap of his briefs, smearing precum over the tip and eliciting another deep growl, the mouth nuzzling your throat vibrating in pleasure.

“Want to fuck you,” he gasps, and you find yourself nodding, no longer caring about the exposed location or what you’re about to let invade your body. You want it, the brief satiety you’d just enjoyed already dissipating, leaving you hungry for more.

His hands loop around the back of your thighs, his body crouching slightly then lifting you up, your dress scraping along the bricks. He fucks up into you and your legs wrap around him, your wrists draped over his shoulders as you’re thrust into and back against the building.

The milkman’s copycat prick is large, long and thick, stretching you as he fills you when his hips snap forward. Your unprotected buttocks suffers abrasions each time you’re impaled but you couldn’t care less. The pain is lost amidst the pleasure you’re experiencing as he buries himself deeply, withdrawing just slightly before driving forward again. Your mouths seek one another’s but it’s difficult with all the jostling, a sloppy collision of wet lips and wetter tongue, trails of saliva linking your panting openings.

“Your stitches…the strain, you shouldn’t…you’re bleeding,” you gasp, the hand that snakes down finding his shirt sticky with blood.

“Don’t care…fix it later…”

Your breasts are tender from the repeated battering of his chest against yours. You’re being pummeled mercilessly now, the invader pushing so hard it’s as if he’s trying to merge completely with you. You almost think you can see, just for a moment, a shift in the facial features, a glimpse of the doppelgänger’s true form lurking beneath the false human surface, but then it’s gone and it’s just those soft tired eyes and that slack, generous mouth as his cock pounds into your cunt until your body finally surrenders to another release, your muscles clenching, sucking at his member. He chases his own climax, moaning against your mouth, pumping streams of hot seed inside of you.

You realize then you’re both sweating, both drenched in perspiration and saliva, blood from his reopened wound and cum that leaks out of you and coats the erection he withdraws from your body as he slowly lowers you back to the ground, your stockinged feet touching the dirty road, your shoes lying nearby where they’d tumbled during the rough intercourse with the alien creature.

The doppel retrieves your panties and you hastily shove them into the purse he hands you. There’s no way you’ll be putting those back on after being in the dirty alley, almost laughing aloud at the idea when you’ve just been soiled by something you should consider disgusting. The amusement fades as you watch him brush the sole of each nylon clad foot clean before assisting them back into your pumps, the gesture almost oddly tender and thoughtful.

The doppelgänger straightens, his fingers reflexively reaching for the bloodied area staining his shirt, then moving to refasten his pants. His eyes meet yours again, waiting to see what you’ll do next. Wondering if there is regret, perhaps. Or if this is the start of…something.

“I…I live two streets over. We’re nearly there.” As if you hadn’t been interrupted on your journey home. You don’t know what to say, just wanting to fill the sudden silence.

He nods and you begin walking in slow, measured steps. Your limbs are still tingling, the aftershocks of your most recent orgasm still firing through them.

You and your companion reach your destination. The building looms up between two shuttered shops. Five stories. No elevator. You resided on the top floor. A lot of stairs to tackle on a good night when you’d merely worked a shift at the diner. Now, after this…

“It’s a long trek. I’m on the fifth floor. Will you be okay walking that much? I don’t know where else to stitch you back up again. I need to wash it, I need a good light source, I…” You’re inviting him inside your apartment. The realization suddenly dawns on you.

“Yes, I’ll manage.” He pauses. “Thank you,” he says softly.

“For what?”

“Helping me avoid the DDD earlier. This. Letting me into your home.”

You nod, your hand resting on the rusted railing that borders a flight of cement steps leading inside the building. The nearby street lamp flickers, a bulb that was long overdue for a change, the filaments within struggling.

“Of course. People should help each other.” You ascend the stairs, holding open the door for him.

He nods gratefully. “I’m not human, though. I’m the enemy.”

“Are you?” Your voice sounds wary at this reminder and you pause at the top of the first landing.

“I won’t hurt you,” he promises, following you up the next flight of stairs.

“Until the debt is repaid?”

“You don’t trust me.” It’s a statement, not a query.

“I don’t know how I feel.” You’ve reached the third floor. Despite his bravado earlier, you see him wincing slightly, his breathing ragged as he keeps one hand pressed to the injury. You wait for him to recover but he waves his other hand, indicating you should continue your journey.

“Did you enjoy it?”

The words make you halt abruptly and he nearly collides with you. You hurry up to the next landing and clear your throat before you give voice to your admission. “Yes, I enjoyed it,” you say when he reaches your side.

“Will we do that again?”

“Now?”

His solemn features break out into a smile. Handsome. The milkman whose appearance he’d copied was attractive, especially like this. You like the curve of that mouth, the flash of his teeth. “No, not now. I’m hardly in any condition to…I meant later,” he adds for clarification. “Another time.”

“Oh. Yes.” A sudden thought occurs to you. “Will you be safe from the patrol? On the way back, to wherever…”

“I’ll manage. Don’t worry.” He steps closer to you. “Are you that anxious to be rid of me?”

“No, I only meant…” You shake your head, feeling flustered.

“Were you looking for me tonight? When you were behind the diner. Hoping I’d be there, maybe?”

“Why would I…I hardly know you.”

“You know me a little better now though, right?” He crowds you back against the wall of the stairwell. You’re thinking maybe injury or not, he still wants you. You can feel the desire radiating from his eyes, his lips hovering close to yours. “You’re really something special, aren’t you? Out of all the humans to run into, and I find the only one who’s willing to take a chance on me, risk…” His voice trails off before he kisses your mouth. It seems impossible there would be any passion left inside of you to respond but you find your lips melting against his, one hand curling around the nape of his neck, holding the doppelgänger close.

#francis mosses x reader #francis mosses x you #that’s not my neighbor #francis mosses #milkman #thats not my neighbor #the milkman #doppelganger #tnmn milkman #tnmn francis mosses #milkman x reader #milkman x you #divider @strangergraphics

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warnersister · 2 months

Text

Personal Space

Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x reader

Summary: you love your personal space. Unfortunately, Bradley also loves your personal space.

You never understood why Bradley stuck around. Since the academy you’d preferred to stick to yourself; get your head down and get the job done. Especially with a surname like Mitchell. You didn’t want your father and grandfather’s reputation to negatively proceed you, and by the time people had put two and two together as to whom loins you came from: you’d made your own reputation so Maverick never made much of a difference to it.

But still, having dinner in the mess you’d sat down, when someone came and thudded down next to you and began eating themselves. “I’m Bradley” he said when you finally looked up at him. You raised a brow “Bradshaw?” You ask and he nods: you recognise him from the photos your dad pinned up in your two’s hanger. You hum “and you are?” He asks “not important.” You reply, deciding you’d lost your appetite and stood to clear your plate “good talk!” Bradley said, but you were already walking away.

He’d next encountered you when you were running around the academy, early morning; before any naval training would take place. He hummed and decided it was perfectly acceptable to interrupt your jaunt with his presence. “Hey! Up so early?” He asks as he tries to match your pace from a standstill “could ask you the same.” You reply bluntly “well I wanted to get a run in before-” “well there’s your answer.” You reply, cutting him off. “You run really quick.” He says as you try to keep your pace increasing to shake him off “goodbye, Bradshaw.” You say, pulling your sunglasses over your eyes and taking off at a pace he couldn’t sustain. He just stops and shakes his head smiling, you were funny.

Eventually, you’d both gotten up in the air and were quick to earn your callsigns “Rooster” and “Hen”. Bradley earned his because he was up before the chickens, you’d earned yours because the chicken kept fucking following you around like you were his mother. You were sat on the aircraft carrier, your trainee group learning how to land on a ship deck and you’d finally gotten a moment of peace that evening. You sat on the edge of the deck, feet dangling over the edge as you watched the sunset, not moving when you hear someone slip into the space between the barriers beside you.

“Oh look my chick is back.” You mumble sarcastically and Bradley laughs loudly at you. “You love me really” he says, looking at you as if he wanted to you agree with him “you seem to keep telling yourself that, don’t you?” You hum, turning to watch the sea lap against the grey metal. You can feel him fidgeting beside you, as if antsy to say something. “What?” You ask, finally turning to look at him. “What?” He repeats, looking at you with raised brows “you want to ask me something. You’re fidgeting.” You point out “so ask me or fuck off” you say, turning away again. “Your last name is Mitchell” he says and you roll your eyes “you can read and hear. Two things I’ve learnt today.” You huff, again, with sarcasm. “Are you related to Pete Mitchell?” He asks, looking at you and nearly holding his breath “you finally put two and two together?” You ask and he lets out the breath.

“Yeah, he’s my dad.” You say after a while “I was a whoopsie baby my mother didn’t want anything to do with” you tell him. “He used to fly with my dad.” Bradley almost whispers, voice just a few octaves above. “I know” you nod “he’s practically wallpapered all over our hanger.” You say “so are you” you eye him. “He pulled my papers” he says, again after a few moments of silence “I know” you say “do you know why?” He asks “yes.” You reply, and he could tell you weren’t going to elaborate. “Y’know I’m not a fan of your dad, but I really like you.” He says and you just look at him with a blank face. “Yup” you hum to yourself and he raises a brow “just as Mother Goose was described” you say, and Bradley’s face immediately lights up with a huge grin, stretching and arm around you and pulling you into his side.

“Get off me.” “Yup, yep, sorry.”

For your first deployment, the academy set it up that you’d at least be with one person from your training squadron, and today the list of names were coming out; they were scribbled on the back of a napkin and pinned to a notice board.

“1. Haywood & Solomons, 2. Hughes & Shelley & Omaha, 3. Cooper & Parker & Cromwell & Smith, 4. Bradshaw,” you crossed your fingers as someone read out the names, then yours was read alongside Bradley’s “oh for god’s sake” you grumble, turning to see Bradley practically jumping for joy. “This is great! Me and you, Hen!” Rooster cheers and you just stare at him “should’ve called you leech cause you’re acting like one. Calm down.” You instruct and he tries to chill out, but the cheeky smile on his face was indiminishagble.

He only became more unbearable then, with you every working hour, your wingman on the missions you’d fly, inseparable despite your complaints. “Where’s your boyfriend?” Hawk asked you, as he came to sit with you for lunch. You shush him loudly. “Woah woah I only asked where he was.” “Speak his name and he shows up. I’m trying to hide.” you say in a hushed voice “plus he isn’t my boyfriend” “sure” he scoffs but the daggers being shot into his head silenced him easily.

“Hey Hen! Hawk” Bradley greets as he sits down. You grunt and point an accusatory finger at Hawk “this is your fault, jackass” you say and he laughs at you, him and Bradley engage in conversation as you just eat, having learnt the skill of drowning him out. “What about you, Hen?” Hawk asked, drawing your attention away from your plate and up to the two men alongside you, you raise an eyebrow - letting them know you were insinuating that you weren’t listening to their conversation.

“Do you want a family?” He ask and you just nod “really?” Hawk asks “that’s cute, didn’t take you for a family gal” he jokes and you harshly kick his leg under the table “kids and everything?” He asks after the pain subsides. “Yup.” You say and Bradley hums “I didn’t know that” he says and you just look at him “you never asked.” You reply simply, and that was true: he hadn’t. He was quite prepared to spend the rest of existence chasing after you, whether that meant giving you your first kiss on your deathbeds.

The two of you even went to Top Gun together, training to be the finest naval aviators of them all. And boy, you two fought to be the best; tongue and teeth, blood sweat and tears, everything. The decision came down to one final dogfight. “May the best aviator win” Rooster jokes, sticking out a hand to you. You eye it and internally question if you were insane, before leaning up to peck his cheek. “Prepare to loose, chicken.” You say, leaving him frozen in his place while you head to your plane. That day, Bradley was seriously off his A-game, and you came out on top.

A Mitchell finally Top Gun.

“Congratulations!” Bradley says excitedly on graduation day when you victoriously lifted the trophy above your head. You turned to him and he leant down slightly - you weren’t stupid, you knew what he was intending to do. “Thank you, Brad.” You say, turning to walk over to where your father was stood - knowing that was probably the only time Bradley wouldn’t follow you. That was the first time you’d ever called him anything short of Bradley Bradshaw.

“I’m so proud of you honey” your dad says, hugging you tightly and you embrace him back, smiling widely “thank you, dad” you respond and he looks behind you where Bradley was stood a while back, watching the ordeal. “Is that-” “yes” you tell him and your dad just looks at you “I wouldn’t get all teary he follows me like a lost puppy” you grumble but he just grins “he’s a good kid, hon.” He says and you shake your head “he’s definitely something”

“So how does their relationship work?” Bob asks Hangman, watching Bradley talk your ear off and you just staring ahead into space, blankly. “You see Bobby my boy,” Jake begins “Hen loves her personal space” Bob nods “Rooster also loves Hen’s personal space.” Bob nods again, now understanding. “Haven’t they done everything together though?” He asks “I think it’s more the fact that Hen does something and Rooster just kinda goes with it” Phoenix said and Bob hums, as Bradley continues to converse one-sidedly with you.

“He means well” you hear from beside you as you stare out from the hanger, turning to see your honorary uncle Tom walking towards you, you run towards him as he embraces you tightly “hey Ice” you smile, sweetly. “Hey sweetheart” he croaks. “I mean what I said.” He states and you raise a brow “he means well” he nods towards the man doing his required push ups on the ground with Hondo. “I know, Ice.” You tell him. “No, I don’t think you do” he hums and you raise your eyebrows at him. “The kids in love with you. You’ve either got to let him in or tell him to get out.” He says, “you’re living together for goodness sake”. “It was cheaper” you argue “we both know the accommodation is subsidised.” He states, matter-of-factly, patting your shoulder as he turns to go talk to your dad when he walks into the room.

It was true, you and Bradley were sharing accommodation. “Hey Hen, they’ve offered us shared accommodation back in Miramar” Bradley says, coming over with a pamphlet. “Why?” You ask, taking it out of his hands. ‘Married couple accommodation’ it states and you raise your brows “you getting ahead of yourself, Bradshaw?” You ask and he shakes his head “the guy assumed our callsigns were cause we’re a couple” he tells you and you just hum. “Well I’d rather stay there than in an apartment.” You say simply, giving him back the leaflet and refocusing on the plane you were working on repairing. “Seriously?” He asks, voice overly hopeful. You look at him and shrug “just go get the damn house, Bradshaw. Before I change my mind!” You say and he grins, turning and breaking out into almost a jog to head to confirm your living situation.

You take a moment of hesitation, before loudly groaning and heading out onto the tarmac, getting down and doing push ups alongside Rooster. He turns his head and looks at you and you just raise your brows at him. “Hey honey” he grins “hello Bradley” he nudges your hip with his own. “I’ll drive us home.” You tell him, and he raises his eyebrows “Home?” He asks and you huff “okay, Bradley I will drive the two of us back to our shared accommodation that we accidentally got given.” You say and he laughs loudly “home sounded better.”

Then after the mission, the whole Dagger squad got permanently stationed in San Diego, other than deployment, so they urged the new additions to the base to buy their own properties closer to base rather than on it. You and Bradley were sat in the Hard Deck, a long time before it was open, the rest of the Daggers spending time on the beach while the two of you were scouring Bradley’s laptop for a property. Well, Bradley was.

How about this one? He turns his screen to you. You shake your head “I want grass in the garden. I want to plant flowers” you say as you point at the paved back of the house, explaining that it’s a waste of money to have it ripped out. Bradley nods “Mkay, garden” he says, moving back to look again.

“How about this one? Beach front, close to the running track for you. Only a walk from the Hard Deck. White picket fence, really” he hums, turning the laptop again “garden?” You ask and he nods “garden.” He nods with a grin. “Shall we go look?” You ask and he raises a brow at you. “You said it’s a walk from the hard deck. Let’s go.” You say, putting the address into your phone and immediately recognising the street name, Bradley quickly falling into step with you as you walk towards the property.

You look at it and place your hands on your hips. Bradley was right. Pretty damn perfect. “Can I help you?” A lady asks, walking outside of the house, clipboard in hand. “Oh no, we’d just seen this property online and wanted to take a look.” Bradley tells her. “Well I’ve had a no-show on a viewing. How’d you like to take a look?” She suggests, motioning to the open door. “Okay” you nod, following her into the house.

“Obviously the kitchen, living room, even a deck out back with a huge garden and high fences” she says nodding out the window and you hum. “Out the side there’s an entrance straight to the beach” she motions, then starts heading up the stairs “three bedrooms, attic space, bathroom” she says “I’m guessing it’s just you two at the moment?” She asks “oh we’re not-” Bradley begins “yes, just us.” You confirm, shutting him up. “Okay, so there’s a large room for your bed and then if any new additions are to join, you have the space for them” she smiles and leads you back out front.

“It’s not cheap, it’s California. So I understand if you’re not prepared to pay that much money, do you mind me asking what you do?” She asks “we’re naval aviators.” Bradley says “stationed here?” She asks and you both nod “ah! I get why you’re looking for a property here!” She says and Bradley looks at you. “I really like it, Roo.” You say, and Bradley has to stop his jaw hitting the floor at your nickname. “It’s your call, honey” he says and you look at the lady and smile as she offers her hand “we’ll take it.”

“How shall we split the payment?” You ask Bradley as you walk back to the Hard Deck after organising a meeting with the realtor to actually finalise all the kinks and bumps. “I don’t mind doing the down payment then we’ll take it in turn paying the loan” he suggests “we can get a joint bank account and do it that way” you say and he agrees as you settle back into your seats at the Hard Deck. “Where’ve you two been?” Hangman asks “we bought a house.”

One evening, after you were all moved in and were hanging out at the Hard Deck after a long day or routine flying, you were sat outside with Rooster; watching the sunset. “When are we getting married then?” You ask and he spits out his beer “what?” He asks, eyes wide and getting progressively more giddy. “Well we live together, we have a joint bank account, and Jake keeps telling me we’re practically married. So when are we getting married?” You ask as he hugs you tightly “whenever you want, baby” he says, kissing the top of your head and pulling a ring out of his pocket to get on his knee. “Will you marry me?” He asks and you raise a brow “didn’t I just say that?” You ask bluntly “just say yes, please” he begs and you nod “yes. Yes I will marry you, Bradley Bradshaw.” You confirm as he kisses your lips gently.

“Okay get off of me now.”

1K notes · View notes

theostrophywife · 9 months

Text

stop the world i wanna get off with you.

pairing: theodore nott x reader. song inspiration: stop the world i wanna get off with you by arctic monkeys. author’s note: the theo brain rot is so real for me besties. i kid you not i listened to the song on repeat while writing this because my mans is arctic monkeys coded. plus, it was only a matter of time before we saw some smutty action from my favorite slutherin 😏 part one: baby won't you be my girl?

You were not a morning person.

Theo knew that. Hell, everyone in Slytherin knew that. Waking you up before noon on the weekend was a one way ticket to a world of pain. For some reason, your boyfriend was determined to make the top of your hit list this morning.

You groaned as Theo shifted beneath you, rousing you from sleep. He stroked your hair gently and pressed a kiss on your temple. “I have to go to practice, amorina.”

Sunlight streamed in through the skylight above Theo’s dorm, reflecting the rippling waves of the Black Lake across your boyfriend’s goose down comforter. You buried your head in the crook of his neck.

“Five more minutes,” you mumbled against his throat, relishing in his warmth. “Please, Teddy.”

A low chuckle rumbled through his chest. “You said that five minutes ago, sweetheart. Do you want your sweet and sexy boyfriend to be maimed by his captain?”

“If Malfoy so much as touches a hair on your head, I’ll turn him into a ferret again and set him loose in the Forbidden Forest.” You snuggled closer and twined your legs together. “Let’s see how threatening he can be against Aragog.”

“Sometimes you genuinely scare me, Y/N.” He wrapped his arms around your waist. “But apparently, fear is a very effective aphrodisiac for me. I’m learning a lot of new things about myself.”

“I can threaten you some more if you want,” you murmured sleepily. “As long as you stay in bed with me, Teddy.”

Theo groaned as you kissed his neck. “You’re absolutely cruel, you know that?” He tilted your chin up, pressing his lips against yours. You sighed dreamily into the kiss, morning breath and all.

Even though you’ve only been officially dating for three months, it felt like you and Theo had been together for a lifetime. You were already inseparable before, but after his confession at the quidditch game after party, you spent nearly every waking moment together. Hence waking up in his bed.

Theo placed a final kiss on the tip of your nose. “Now I really have to go.” You sighed in defeat, pouting like a petulant child. Your boyfriend laughed. “I’ll see you in the stands, babe.”

“Fine,” you mumbled grumpily.

You watched as Theo hastily threw on his quidditch uniform, admiring the view of his sunkissed skin and toned chest and abs. Thank Merlin for quidditch.

The cheeky tosser winked before heading for the pitch. You turned over in bed, burying yourself in Theo’s scent as you drifted back to sleep.

Several hours later, you finally managed to get dressed and dragged yourself to the Great Hall for a late lunch. When you got to your usual table, you found the boys and Pansy waiting for you. Draco and Mattheo were talking in hushed tones, no doubt discussing their strategy to destroy the Ravenclaws while Enzo scarfed down a plate of steak and eggs like his life depended on it. Pansy watched in disgust, wrinkling her nose at your friend.

“For Salazar’s sake, Lorenzo. You’re going to choke to death and I refuse to resuscitate you.”

“Don’t worry, Enzo,” you said as you slid in next to him. “I’m sure we can find a volunteer to perform mouth to mouth on you.”

As if on cue, a gaggle of fourth years giggled at the end of the table. Enzo didn’t seem to notice. Beside him, Blaise met your eye and shook his head. The two of you often joked that Draco took all the arrogance in their family’s gene pool, leaving poor Enzo hopelessly oblivious. The fact that sweet Lorenzo was related to someone as arrogant as Malfoy never failed to completely baffle the mind.

“Well don’t you look adorable, Y/N?” Draco drawled. “All decked out in your boyfriend’s jersey.”

You looked down at the emerald and silver jersey with the number 6 embroidered on the front, which was so big on you that the hem hit your knees. Matching streaks of your house colors adorned your cheeks and you had pulled your hair back with a pair of charmed serpent clips that writhed through your pigtails every so often.

“And up before mid afternoon, no less,” Mattheo commented.

You frowned, flicking him off before reaching for a sandwich. “Speaking of my boyfriend. Where is the little rascal?”

“Last I checked he was still on the pitch,” Draco said as you stuffed a few chips into your mouth. “Practicing to show off in front of you, I imagine.”

“I’ve seen him play before.”

Mattheo stole a chip from your plate. “Yes, but not as his girlfriend.”

You smacked his hand away and he gasped dramatically. Mattheo fetched something out of his robes and set it down in front of you. The small glass vial shimmered in the light.

“Your boyfriend wanted me to give you this.”

A motion sickness draught. Theo knew how queasy and nauseous you got during his quidditch games, so he’d concocted your own special cure for it. Hot and smart. Gods, you were lucky.

You flushed, pocketing the potion. “Thanks.”

“You idiots better win,” Pansy said. “Or else all my hard work for tonight’s after party will go to waste.”

Draco scoffed. “You mean our hard work?” He turned over to you, frowning. “Pans over here had us working harder than a house elf. I’ve got glitter in places glitter should never be.”

“Fitting for someone who thinks the sun shines out of his arse. Maybe it’ll finally teach you some humility, Malfoy.”

Mattheo draped an arm around your shoulder. “You know why our sweet little Pansy’s got her wand in a twist though, right?” He leaned in conspiratorially. “She finally plucked up the courage to invite a certain Ravenclaw to the after party.”

You squealed in delight. “Is that true, Pans? Did you finally ask Luna out?”

Pansy glared at you, practically hissing as she grabbed your elbow. “Say that a little louder, why don’t you? I don’t think they heard you across the room.”

You snorted. Your best friend has always been a little tightly wound, but Pansy Parkinson with a crush was a whole different animagus.

“Well, I, for one, am excited for this development in your love life,” you exclaimed, squeezing her shoulder. “It’s about time you did something about this little crush.”

“Says the witch who took twelve years to admit her feelings,” Pansy said with an affectionate eye roll. “Sorry love, but I’m not taking advice from you.”

“I’m choosing to attribute that to first date jitters and not a blatant insult against your best and most loyal friend.” You picked at your sandwich, waving a pickle in the air excitedly. “Don’t be nervous, Pans. She’s going to love you.”

The encouragement was met with an elbow to your ribs. You paused mid-chew, ready to give Pansy a peace of your mind when a soft voice interrupted you.

“Hi, guys,” greeted Luna Lovegood. She wore a striped blue and bronze sweater, representing the colors of her house. Strapped to her back was a set of feathered eagle wings that nearly dragged to the floor. “I love your snake clips, Y/N. It’s always great to see displays of house spirit. Beware of the nargles, though. They do love shiny things.”

“I’ll keep an eye out for them, Luna.” You said with a smile. “I’m looking forward to your commentary tonight. It’s going to be a heated match between our houses, but one thing’s for certain. The after party will be absolutely mental no matter who wins. Isn’t that right, Pans?”

Pansy nodded, the action making her sleek bob graze her sharp cheekbones. You always thought that your friend possessed an austere sort of beauty, but everything about her seemed to soften as she turned her attention on Luna.

“We can still count on you to make it tonight, right Lovegood?” There was a hint of playfulness in Pansy’s tone that you rarely heard her use. You couldn’t help but smirk. Pansy Parkinson fancied the absolute pants out of Luna Lovegood.

Luna smiled shyly, hiding beneath a strand of platinum blonde hair. “Thank you for the invitation, Pansy. I look forward to seeing everyone tonight.”

“See you tonight, Luna.”

Luna gave your table a friendly wave before returning to her own fellow Ravenclaws. You waited until she was out of ear shot before bursting into a fit of giggles.

“See you tonight Luna,” you repeated, putting on your best impression of Pansy’s husky voice. “Pansy Parkinson’s totally going to snog Luna Lovegood tonight!”

“Oh, shut up,” replied Pansy. She tried her best to look annoyed, but the small smile on her face made it rather unconvincing.

After teasing your friend for at least another hour, the two of you finally headed down to the quidditch pitch. The boys left long ago, presumably to warm up before the big game. You followed Pansy into the stands, cringing slightly at how high up the seats were.

Across the pitch, the feedback from Luna’s sonoroused voice rumbled through the crowd. “Welcome fellow students. Join me in kicking off this long awaited match between Slytherin and Ravenclaw, the house of yours truly. As always, the goal is to provide live updates and unbiased commentary throughout the game, but I make no promises. Even a Corkendoodle wouldn’t be able to resist showing a little partiality. Now without further ado, let the games begin!”

The crowd roared as players from each side soared through the air at breakneck speed. You gripped the railing, thankful for Theo’s concoction as you squinted at the blur of players. As always, Madam Hooch kicked off the game by releasing a set of bludgers and the elusive golden snitch. With bated breath, you watched as she threw the quaffle into the air which marked the official start of the match.

A familiar figure zoomed past you, emerald robes streaming behind him as he caught the quaffle and cradled it under his arm. Theo circled through the air, easily outmaneuvering the chasers from the opposing team. He flew straight for a blonde Ravenclaw, making the poor fifth year think that they were going to collide before he swerved at the last second and looped around the frightened player.

“And that’s Nott of Slytherin with an excellent fake out,” Luna announced in her dreamy voice. “Oddly enough, this chaser is heading in the opposite direction of the goalposts. Another clever tactic, I presume.”

Theo brought his broom to a stop directly in front of you, hovering in mid-air while he cradled the quaffle underneath one arm. He immediately broke out into a grin when he saw you wearing his jersey.

“In a turn of events, Nott visits the Slytherin stands for a little chat with his friends,” commented Luna. “Actually, that’s his lovely girlfriend Y/N. I did warn her about attracting the Nargles, but nevertheless those serpent clips are a work of art. Oh look, there’s Pansy Parkinson! I know she looks a bit intimidating at first, but she’s really quite nice.”

Beside you, Pansy turned as red as a tomato. You stifled a giggle just as Theo pulled close, his watercolor eyes crinkling with amusement.

“My jersey looks good on you, Y/N.” Theo drawled, taking the time to flirt despite the fact that he was currently in the middle of a game. He leaned in and whispered low so only you could hear, “But I bet it would look even better on my floor.”

“Win this match and you might get your wish, babe.”

A smirk curved against his lips. “You evil little temptress. I hope you know that I’m holding you to that,” he inched closer, his gaze dropping to your mouth. “Do I at least get a kiss from my good luck charm?”

You shook your head in disbelief. “Aren’t you supposed to be doing something right now? Like, I don't know, playing the bloody quidditch game!”

He shrugged, winking at you in that cheeky way of his. “I’m perfectly capable of multitasking.”

Just then, a bludger whizzed past the stands, but Theo was entirely unbothered as he flipped over on his broom to avoid the hit. Your boyfriend hung upside down, keeping his eyes on you the entire time. “Now about that kiss, dolcezza.”

“That’s quite a creative way to avoid a bludger,” Luna continued. “I once hung upside down in a tree in search of moon frogs and it wasn’t the most comfortable position, but not the most uncomfortable either. Oh! It looks like things are heating up for this lovely couple.”

“You’re an absolute menace, Theodore,” you said with an exasperated sigh before pulling him by the collar and kissing him. The logistics were complicated by the fact that he was currently airborne, but Theo smiled against your lips all the same.

“A good luck kiss,” Luna said with delight. “Those two are absolutely adorable, aren’t they? Ah, young love.”

Satisfied, Theo flipped right side up and palmed the quaffle in his hand. “You hear that, babe? We’re absolutely adorable.”

You rolled your eyes affectionately. “Yeah, yeah. Now go out there and kick some Ravenclaw arse!”

Thanks to Teddy’s potion, you actually managed to keep your eyes open for the entirety of the game. It was a heated match with both teams playing with equal ferocity, but the boys had the upper hand. They moved as one, predicting each other’s moves from years and years of practice. Even the newest additions, Violet and Tracey, seemed to fit seamlessly into the group.

By the time you reached the tail end of the game, your throat felt raw from cheering and screaming. Pansy was in a worse state, hurling insults when one of the Ravenclaw beaters attempted to grab the tail end of Blaise’s broom.

“That was obviously a bloody fucking foul!” Pansy screamed.

“Some colorful words from the Slytherin stands,” Luna said with a little smile, making Pansy blush. “Madam Hooch seems to agree. Robinson has been fouled for blagging Zabini.”

You gripped the end of the railing as Theo zoomed past. The score was tied, but if he made this goal it would put Slytherin up by ten points, effectively winning not only the game but also the Quidditch Cup.

“You got this, babe,” you yelled. “No mercy, Teddy!”

Theo met your gaze and smirked. Vicious woman, he mouthed before careening straight for the goalpost.

The Ravenclaw keeper looked panicked as Theo dodged the other players and reeled the quaffle back. The shot was perfect, whizzing past the post so fast that the keeper didn’t even have time to react.

“Nott with the winning shot!” Luna announced cheerily. “That’s game, everyone. Congratulations to this year’s Quidditch Cup winner: Slytherin House!”

The cheers that erupted from your housemates followed you all the way to the common room. In true Pansy fashion, the large space had been meticulously decorated with banners and streamers. The music blared and the liquor flowed, marking the start of a night of mischief and revelry.

While waiting for the boys to finish showering, you helped Pansy play hostess. You greeted friends from other houses, filling their cups with your signature concoction. A fruity drink that masked the taste of liquor so well that the drinker didn’t realize they were pissed until it was too late.

“Congratulations on the win,” said a familiar voice. You turned around and saw Murdock raising his green cup in a toast.

You smiled, clinking your plastic cup against his. “Thanks Christoph. Good to see you here,” you lowered your voice, darting your head around the corner. “So things are going well with Daphne?”

Christoph smiled shyly. “Yeah, thanks for introducing us by the way. We’re going on our first date to the Three Broomsticks tomorrow.”

After his last disastrous attendance at a Slytherin party, you figured it was the least you could do for your Hufflepuff friend. “Don’t mention it, Christoph. What are friends for? Besides, it’s obvious that you two would be absolutely perfect together.”

“Who’s absolutely perfect together?” A familiar voice drawled. You felt an arm wrap protectively around you. “Besides us, of course.”

Even before you were dating, Theo had a tendency to be overprotective towards you. Most of the time he was pretty good at controlling it, but sometimes his jealousy got the best of him. It would’ve annoyed you if it wasn’t so damn attractive.

“Hey babe,” you said with a little smile, leaning up to kiss his cheek. “I was just telling Christoph here that he should offer Daphne a drink. They’d make a cute couple, don’t you think?”

Realization flooded Theo’s features, followed by a hint of embarrassment. “Definitely,” he said with a rueful smile. “Take it from me, mate. Don’t wait too long before chasing after the girl of your dreams.”

Christoph nodded, looking determined. “Thanks, mate.”

You handed your friend another cup and pointed him in Daphne’s direction. Beside you, Theo smiled sheepishly. His hair was slightly wet from the shower and he smelled like sea salt spray and smoke. The cozy knitted sweater he had thrown on brought out his watercolor eyes.

“Nice save, babe.”

“What can I say? I’m a hopeless romantic,” Theo said, placing his hands on your waist. “You bring it out of me, cara mia.”

You rolled your eyes fondly. “You know, I’d be mad if jealous Theo wasn’t so hot.” Theo grinned as you placed your arms around his neck. “But scoring that winning goal? That was downright sexy.”

Your boyfriend toyed with the hem of your shirt. “Oh yeah? Well, I had some motivation, thanks to our little bargain.” His hands slipped underneath your shirt, tracing teasing circles on your hips. “I delivered on my end. Now it’s time for you to pay up, love.”

“Good things come to those who wait, Theo.”

Theo pouted. “Fine, but only because I know you’re worth it.”

You pulled Theo in by the belt loop and kissed him, long and hard. He lifted you up and groaned as you tugged at his curls. Theo sighed into your mouth as you took control, showing him exactly how much you wanted him. You topped the kiss off by gently biting on his bottom lip. When you pulled away, Theo looked dazed.

“Fuck,” he said in a low, dark voice.

“A little preview,” you said with a smirk. “Just so you don’t think I’m completely heartless.”

“So my dorm or yours?”

You chuckled. “Theo, you haven’t even made your rounds. This party is to celebrate your win, you know.”

“Fuck the party,” he said dismissively. “You think I care about talking to all of these people after that? What do you want, love? Do you want me to beg? Get on my knees for you? I’ll do anything, princess.”

Salazar fucking save you.

You would’ve taken Theo up on the offer, but this was his moment. He deserved to be celebrated. Besides, he’d be all yours by the end of the night.

“As much as I love the visual,” you said, pecking him on the cheek. “I want you to celebrate with the team. You lot deserve it after working so hard all year.” You lowered your voice, whispering in his ear. “After that, we can go up to your dorm and I’ll give you your reward. Think you can do that, babe?”

“Yes ma’am,” Theo replied. “God you’re fucking sexy when you’re bossing me around.”

You smirked. “Good boy.”

Theo groaned before slipping his hand into yours. “Now come on, before I change my mind and claim my reward right here, right now.”

The two of you made rounds through the party, stopping here and there to talk to your respective friends. Most of the time, you were by Theo’s side watching in admiration as everyone congratulated him on the winning goal.

Even in deep conversation, Theo never stopped touching you. Whether it was the soothing rub of his thumb across your knuckles or his arm draped protectively around your waist, it was obvious that physical touch was your boyfriend’s love language.

You couldn’t help but smile at how easy it came to him, like touching you was as natural as breathing air.

“What’s that smile for, love?”

“I just really fucking fancy you.”

Merlin’s bloody beard. The smile on Theo’s face completely took your breath away. His eyes, which you often joked gave him resting witch face, lit up brighter than the sun.

“I really fucking fancy you too, darling.”

Finally, the two of you reached your friends on the other side of the common room. Blaise and Enzo were engaged in a competitive game of beer pong against Mattheo and Draco.

“The man of the hour,” Malfoy announced, clapping Theo on the back. “You fucking killed it out there, mate.” He turned back to the other boys. “We all did.”

“This calls for a celebratory shot!” you announced. “Wait, where’s Pans?”

Mattheo smirked. “Chatting up our commentator. Looks like our little Pansy’s all grown up.”

Across the room, you shot Pansy a wink as she and Luna sat rather close together, huddled on the couch and giggling every so often. You rallied the boys, raising your cups in a cheer. Pansy affectionately flipped you the bird as all six of you hooted and hollered, but she downed the liquor nonetheless.

The firewhisky must have been a fast acting agent of liquid courage because not even a second after she set her cup down, Pansy was kissing Luna. You squealed in delight while the rest of the group drunkenly cheered.

This night just kept getting better and better.

“Another one of our finest lost to young love,” Draco announced dramatically.

You rolled your eyes. “You could be too if you stopped being a coward and finally asked Hermione out.”

Malfoy nearly spat out his drink. “Granger? You think I fancy Granger? Little miss know it all, member of the Golden Trio, poster child Gryffindor Granger? Are you taking the piss, Y/N?”

“Oh please,” Mattheo said with a scoff. “We all see the way you look at her in the Great Hall. You don’t just fancy Granger. You’re absolutely smitten, mate.”

Enzo nodded empathetically. “Mattheo’s right, cousin. You should just ask Hermione out on a date.”

“Have you lot forgotten that the madwoman once punched me in the face?”

“I think she’d be good for you,” you said. “Set you straight.”

“Set me straight?” Draco repeated. “I don’t need anyone to set me straight. Especially not Granger. I mean, the witch is insufferable with her stupid curly hair and stupid big brown eyes and stupid flawless skin.”

Blaise sighed. “No offense, mate, but you’re even thicker than Enzo when it comes to girls.”

Enzo protested in response, but Draco was too busy having a meltdown to notice. His pale complexion blossomed with red as his mouth gaped open. “Do I like Granger?”

You rolled your eyes. “Obviously, you blubbering idiot.”

Draco glared at you, then at Theo. “Nott, please get your girlfriend away from me before I have a full on fit.”

Theo only laughed, pulling you closer. “Gladly. We were heading out anyway.”

You hugged your friends goodbye. Draco was still frowning at his drink when you and Theo finally headed out of the common room.

“Think about it, ferret boy,” you hollered from the door. “Granger’s a catch! We could use more female presence in this absolute sausage party of a friend group.”

With that, Theo hauled you over his shoulder. You squealed, pinching his bum as he carried you out of the common room. “Alright, love. That’s enough of that.”

When you finally reached Theo’s dorm, the two of you fell over in absolute hysterics. You plopped down on his bed, spreading like an obnoxious starfish. Theo followed after, diving on top of you.

“I think you gave Malfoy an identity crisis,” he said, laughing into your hair.

You shrugged, rolling over so that you were on top of him. “He deserved it.”

Theo toyed with the hem of your shirt, tracing circles on your hips. “And what about what I deserve?”

“It’s coming, babe,” you said with a sly smile. “And pretty soon you will be too.”

“Don’t tease, cara mia.”

“I never tease,” you purred. “I only promise.”

With a satisfied smirk, you pressed your lips against his. Theo groaned into your mouth as you straddled his lap, deepening the kiss. Large hands roamed underneath your shirt, his palms rough and calloused from hours and hours of playing quidditch.

A sinfully delicious moan slipped past Theo’s lips as you trailed kisses along his jaw, throat, and neck. You sucked on his flesh, hard enough to leave marks. You liked knowing that every time he changed, little reminders of you littered his skin.

“Bloody fucking hell,” Theo muttered.

“You’ve got a filthy mouth, Theo,” you teased. “I bet I could shut you up though.”

Your boyfriend groaned like he was in pain. “Please do.”

You winked before disappearing underneath the covers. Theo’s eyes fluttered close as you continued kissing down his chest, taking the time to trace your name on his abs with your tongue, which seemed to be a real crowd pleaser. You stripped off his trousers, kissing his perfectly defined v line before licking a teasing stripe along the underside of his cock.

“Figlio di puttana,” Theo cursed, low and rough. Your knees nearly buckled. There was truly nothing hotter than your boyfriend swearing in Italian. “Don’t stop, Y/N.”

“What was that you said about delivering on my promise?” you asked innocently, looking up at him through your lashes. “Because it feels like I’m giving you the winner treatment right now, doesn’t it baby?”

A choked moan was your only response as you took him into your mouth. You gagged as he hit the back of your throat, bobbing your head up and down in a steady rhythm. Theo fisted your hair in his hands, watching through heavy lids as you sucked your cheeks in.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” he groaned, stroking your cheek. “But I’m willing to die a happy man.”

You chuckled, sending vibrations to his sensitive head. Theo twitched against your cheek as you gripped his shaft, moving along with your mouth. He continued to curse colorfully while you wrapped your lips around him. You felt him tense underneath you, signaling that he was close.

Theo tugged lightly at your scalp. “I don’t want to cum yet,” he said huskily. “Not until I’m inside of you.”

Merlin bless your boyfriend and his filthy fucking mouth. Theo flipped you over, his body pinning you to the mattress as he kissed you roughly. You gasped against his mouth, giving him the perfect opportunity to slide his tongue in. Heat pooled in your core and flooded your body with desire.

“Theo,” you mumbled, tugging at his shirt. “I need you. Now.”

He ripped off his shirt, grinning. “Then have me, darling.”

“I want to be on top.”

You squealed as Theo rolled over, placing you on his lap. He gripped your hips and gently rolled against you. “I’m not about to argue with that.”

With a smirk, you toyed with the hem of your shirt. Theo grabbed your wrist and shook his head. “Keep it on. I want to watch you ride me while wearing my jersey.”

“Have I ever told you how much I love your filthy mouth?”

Theo grinned before latching his lips on your breast. He looked up at you and swirled his tongue around your nipple through the fabric. “It’s not ringing a bell. Shall I try the other side?”

“Gods, yes.”

He gave your other nipple equal attention as you lined his cock up at your entrance. Precum coated his tip, mixing with your own slick as you slowly lowered onto his length. Theo’s teeth sank into your collarbone, muffling his moan.

“Fuck me,” he exhaled in a shaky breath.

“I am, baby.”

Theo chuckled darkly. “Smartass.”

You rolled your hips as he gripped your ass, helping you lift and lower at a faster pace. Theo’s mouth collided with yours, his hands roaming underneath your shirt and exploring every inch of you like he was trying to commit your body to memory.

The intensity of his gaze pierced you with lust and desire. He lifted the hem of his jersey, watching as his cock disappeared between your folds.

“I love watching you take all of me, pretty girl.” Theo was ravenous, littering your neck and shoulder with love bites. “You ride me so fucking well. Maybe it should be you out there on the broom.”

“The only broom I’m interested in is yours,” you quipped back. “Besides, you don’t want everyone else knowing my tricks, do you?”

“Fuck no,” Theo whispered roughly as he switched positions. He pressed you against the mattress, hooking your legs on his shoulder before smirking. “This is for my eyes only. You’re mine, amorina.”

“Yours,” you breathed as he thrust into you. The angle allowed him to slide in even deeper, hitting all the right spots as your eyes rolled to the back of your head.

“That’s my good girl,” Theo declared proudly. “Now fucking take it.”

The pleasure hits you in waves. The sounds that you were both making were absolutely filthy, and you were glad that music was playing in the common room below otherwise the whole of Slytherin house would’ve heard you screaming Theo’s name.

“You getting close, baby?” Theo grunted as you fluttered around him. You whimpered in response, raking your nails along his back. “I’ll take that as a yes. I want you to cum with me. Can you do that, pretty girl?”

You nodded as Theo’s slender fingers rubbed against your clit, pushing you over the edge. You wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him closer, cursing as the orgasm hit you both.

Theo kissed you, swallowing your moans of pleasure as euphoria washed over you. He rode it out, hips stuttering as he finished. The two of you laid in the dark, bodies twined together while your heartbeats synced.

“Holy fuck,” you said in disbelief.

Theo chuckled. “That did feel a bit sacrilegious.”

He rolled over and grabbed his wand, casting a quick scouring charm over the both of you. Thank Merlin for magic.

You rolled over, propping your chin up with one hand. “You want to smoke a cigarette, don’t you?”

Your boyfriend shook his head. “Actually, I was thinking about quitting.”

Now this was news to you. “Oh? Has all my nagging finally paid off?”

“Maybe,” he said, shrugging. “I’m just thinking ahead. I don’t want our kids picking up the habit.”

Your eyes widened. “Kids? As in, plural?”

Theo nodded emphatically. “Oh yeah, little Theo Jr. and his brother Mattheo don’t need to be exposed to my smoking.”

You cocked your head in confusion. “Theo Jr.? Mattheo?”

“Don’t ask. I lost a bet.”

“You better be taking the piss, Teddy.”

He chuckled. “Mostly. I am quitting smoking and I am looking forward to a future with you, our hypothetical children’s names to be further discussed.”

“You absolute menace of a man,” you said, cuddling him with a wide grin. “I fucking adore you, do you know that?”

“I am stupidly in love with you.”

You giggled as Theo peppered kisses on your face. “Malfoy’s right. We’re truly revolting.”

“Oh, absolutely vile.”

Theo tucked you into the crook of his neck and kissed the top of your head. “I wouldn’t have it any other way,” you mumbled sleepily. “I love you, Teddy.”

He pulled you close and smiled. “I love you too, Y/N.”

taglist: @annaisabookworm @marina468 @writingsbychlo

please let me know if you'd like to be added.

#HELLO FRIENDS IM FUCKNG SCREAMIGN #theodore nott #theo nott #theo nott smut #theo nott fic #theodore nott x reader #theo nott fluff #theo nott x reader #theodore nott x you #mattheo riddle #draco malfoy #blaise zabini #pansy parkinson #luna lovegood

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coryosbaby · 4 months

Text

Give It To Me .

Dark! Luke Castellan x nymph! Reader

Content warning . Non-con, minor predator/prey themes, squirting

You sigh as your toes are enveloped in cold, crystal clear water. Making your way into the pond, you’re thankful none of the other nymphs had followed you here.

Sure, it’s fun to swim with the others. At camp Half Blood, you’ve made a lot of new friends that are just as appreciative of the earth as you. But sometimes you need a moment to yourself— a moment with nature and its elements.

Your clothes are discarded— this is your hiding spot deep in the forest, after all. It’d be a wonder if someone found it. It’s as if it was made just for you.

You spend a great deal of time in the waves, resting against a giant boulder peeking out of the water, relishing in the cool breeze moving through. You giggle at the fish tickling your ankles because they’re always quite fond of you.

You enjoy your swim so much that for a second you don’t hear the sound of another.

It’s the noise of a belt buckle clinking that makes you turn your head towards the shore. You peek out over the surface of the water, and on the shore you see the figure of a tall male.

He seems to be going for a swim. He peels his shirt off, then slips his jeans down to his ankles and throws them on the ground somewhere behind him. He steps into the water, slow, emitting a small sigh as it envelopes him. He wades forward and then relaxes against the waves.

Your eyes glaze over.

You want to move. Your body stays behind the rock , however, to admire him for a moment more.

He’s an interesting half blood. Not like the others— older, with dark, raven like hair, pretty doe eyes, and a very fit body. He’s incredibly handsome, and something tugs in your chest.

You move by instinct, and it makes a splash. Your body freezes up in fear. The boy whirls around, surprised by the sound of another ounce of life in the empty pond. You peek over, praying he doesn’t see you as he makes his way towards the rock.

But to no avail. His eyes catch yours, then, and a feeling like butterfly wings twirls in your tummy.

“I thought I was the only one here.”

You struggle to say something to him, the shock of being caught and the attractiveness of his voice washing over you. He doesn’t seem to mind your timidness, and reaches out his hand.

“I’m Luke.”

Luke. Where had you heard that before? You can’t be sure.

Your much smaller hand falls into his, and your arm erupts into goose flesh. His lips part beautifully—demigod charm.

“You’re a nymph, aren’t you?” He continues. “I’ve seen girls like you in the lake… never back here.”

“Yes,” you reply, in almost a mere whisper. “I’m sorry. I was just.. I’m shy, that’s all.”

He chuckles, both hands running through his hair. Water droplets stick to his forehead.

“Shy. Not shy enough to have a shirt on, though.”

You flush when his eyes drop down to your naked chest. Your hair covers your breasts, but that doesn’t make it any less revealing.

“No one ever comes back here.” you stutter out, embarrassed.

“But I did.”

You don’t know what he means by that. His head tilts, and his body moves closer to you. Your back hits the rock, your chest heaving. “I know nymphs are supposed to be pretty. But I’ve never seen one as beautiful as you.”

Your stomach tangles into knots, from nerves or arousal you aren’t sure.

“Oh,” you breathe out. He chuckles before looking around behind you.

“There isn’t anyone else here, is there?”

You shake your head, and you feel a bit queasy. Regretful, too, for revealing such a thing. Had your stranger danger warnings from your peers taught you nothing?

Something in the boy’s demeanor has changed, and you think that maybe he isn’t your handsome prince after all.

And looking at the scar across his eye, you finally remember who he is— Luke, son of Hermes. A counselor from Cabin Eleven. You had never spoken to him before— it’s a big camp, after all— but his wandering eyes whenever you were near seemed to be filled with lust. You had just toned it down to a weird crush.

How did you not register it before?

You don’t know, and as of right now you don’t care. You begin to move away to the shoreline, where your dress lays haphazardly on the sand.

Something clicks in your head — How could Luke think he was alone if your clothes were there? — and you decide that you really shouldn’t be here. Not near this pond, and especially not near him. Your relaxing day has just turned awry.

“Where are you going?” Luke calls to you, and you begin to move faster. You could care less if your underwear is exposed to him as you finally get to the shore. Your hands nervously fumble with your dress.

“Just… I forgot I had somewhere to be!”

“Where?”

You jump, turning around to see him behind you. His body drips with water and his hair is plastered to his forehead.

“Oh, you know..” you chuckle nervously, a shudder running through you. You avoid eye contact as you slip the dress over your damp body. “Just— nymph stuff.”

“Nymph stuff?” He questions. The way he says it is almost accusingly, as if you aren’t allowed to lie to him. His eyes are dark, his demeanor tense. He walks towards you, and your heart beats out of your chest.

You begin to run.

You don’t know why. It’s maybe—probably— instinct. But you don’t make it far. Not even a few feet. Luke takes after you, and before you can even move off of the sand and onto the grass he’s got you pinned underneath him. A terrified squeak makes its way through you, and you squirm in his grip. He grabs you by the neck and pushes you down into the sand.

“Stop fucking moving,” he growls, fumbling with his belt. “You dumb slut.“

You cry, your bottom lip wobbling. His cock hangs out of his underwear, heavy and thick. Your eyes widen to the size of saucers.

“Luke, please! No, no—“

“Shut up,” he groans out, wrapping a hand around his shaft. Your thighs clench together against your own accord. His other hand flips up the hem of your dress and exposes your wet panties to the open air, and he yanks those down, too. All the while, your heart thuds like a scared rabbit and your legs flail against him.

He pulls your thighs apart, and you whimper weakly.

“Oh, fuck,” Luke’s fingers play with your slit, soaking with something more than water despite your protests. “prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen.”

His tongue runs along his bottom lip as he pulls away, his hand going to one side of your head, the other moving down to position himself at your entrance. Your body relaxes against its own will, giving up on fighting. He’s extremely strong, definitely skilled in taking his opponents down. There would be no use.

Your eyes water as he sheathes himself in you. White hot heat courses through your veins, shock on your face as he pushes in to the hilt. You can’t do anything but lay there, frozen.

Luke lets out a grunt, his face resting in the crook of your neck as he begins to move. The smell of lake water and shampoo permeates your senses as you unintentionally bury your nose in his curls and sharply inhale. Your arms wrap around his big shoulders and you let out a salacious cry.

He slaps his hand over your mouth, his voice as venomous as a snake’s.

“Don’t you dare get us caught,” he warns, a low chuckle coming out of his mouth when you clench around him. “Dirty fucking girl. I bet you want that, don’t you? I bet you want everyone to see what I do to you. How much of a desperate bitch you are for me.”

You shake your head aggressively. He smiles.

Turning your head to the side, you see the expanse of the woods and the lake before your eyes flutter shut in pleasure. He hits a spongey spot inside you that has your toes curling, and he watches every movement — the way your face contorts in pleasure, your body taking over the rejection in your mind. The way your wetness leaves a white, creamy ring around the base of his cock. The way that everytime he touches that spot, your legs shake and quiver.

He fucks into it over and over, rutting into your like an animal, hammering his aching dick against your walls and making you see stars.

You should feel guilt, disgust. But he’s so heavy on top of you, and it’s hard to breathe, and his hands are coming down to your clit and— fuck, you’re going to cum.

It happens quickly. You don’t even fathom what happens before your orgasm washes over you, but your vision whites out and you seize up. Back arching, you let out a desperate mewl as liquid gushes out of your abused cunt. Luke, noticing with furrowed brows and his mouth agape, pulls out of you to slip his fingers inside instead. The digits slide in easily, coated in wetness, as he begins to thrust them in and out. The slick sound of your release sets your face on fire.

“Fuck yes,” Luke groans, and he sounds pained. “Give it to me, princess. That’s it, that’s the stuff…”

Rubbing at your clit, he helps you ride out your orgasm, drawing out more of your release. His fingers go up to his mouth, and he slides them over his tongue. He whines, positioning himself back over your pussy, his hand jerking off his own dick.

“Gonna cum all over you,” he grunts, arousal pooling over his fist. “Shit, ‘m gonna...”

His head tilts back, and he lets out a deep moan as he releases all over your bare pussy. Your hole clenches desperately when you feel his warm spend hit it, sticky and wet. His big hand splays across your thigh and digs crescent moons into it as he rides out his high with a shaky quiver of your name.

You lay motionless, his cum drying against your cunt as he comes down. He still holds your legs in his hands—as if you could go anywhere, at this point. As if he hadn’t just fucked you dumb.

He strokes the skin of your thighs, his breath bordering on a sigh.

“This’ll be our little secret,” he says softly.“Yeah, baby? Promise you won’t tell?”

It may sound sugary sweet, but underneath it all the sentence is incredibly threatening.

Sweaty and hot, you weakly nod. He gives a pleased, predatory smile that shakes you to the core.

“That’s my girl.”

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workingwhileidream · 6 months

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Okay Burrow's End had me thinking some thoughts... So here are my favorite Dimension 20 moments that rotate like a rotisserie chicken in my brain (in no particular order other than the order I thought if them).

- Riz goes into the butthole of the Corn Ooze Monster (Fantasy High). The first absolutely insane shenanigans move anyone makes on D20, setting the tone the show will have forever.

- Raphaniel kills Queen Pamelia (Ravening War). I think I saw Brennan's soul leave his body briefly when he got that How Do You Want To Do This from Matt. Time was an absolute flat circle that day.

- Hank convinces Brennan to let him role savvy instead of sneak (Mentopolis). Hank is one of the most famous content creators, having him on the show was phenomenal to begin with. Then right out of the gate, he pulls this move in his first episode. And it just works. Hilarious, instantly iconic.

- Jet Dies (A Crown of Candy). When Lapin dies, it is shocking but I wasn't attached to him as a character. Lapin was a bit antagonistic and his death happens early in the season. On the other hand, Jet is instantly likeable. Emily and Siobhan are amazing as siblings, their performances this campaign are some of my favorites. I have siblings and I am very close to them, so this hit me like a ton of bricks.

- The entire epilogue of Burrow's End. "Are you pitching and Air Bud ending?" is one of the instant hall of fame quotes from this show. I started crying I was laughing so hard.

- Ylfa's bottleneck and the TPK (Neverafter). There are so many close calls for total party kills in Dimension 20 history, but this is where it finally happens and it's only 3 episodes in. I was on edge, expecting another TPK at any turn, for the rest of the campaign.

- 3 nat one initiative rolls for the battle that literally opens the season (A Starstruck Odyssey). The beginning of a new season is always full of excitement. This season was extra special, having everyone back in the dome after the pandemic and the season being based off Brennan's Mom's comics. The zoom energy is still in the air and I still think about this season opener a lot.

- Mother Timothy Goose breaks Snow White's concentration with a cantrip (Neverafter). Only Ally Beardsley could and we all damn well know it. Still didn't stop me from being so far in disbelief that all I could do is laugh.

- Hob's "You will never know another lonely day" speech to Rue (A Court of Fey and Flowers). I will still cry about this if I think about it for too long. Rue and Hob's romance is the heart of this season to me. I won't be over it ever.

- Gertrude convinces Nyruth to give the Questing Queens very powerful boons after the Queens tried to rob them only a few hours earlier (Dungeons and Drag Queens). The fact that this season exists drives a level of serotonin into my brain that is unimaginable. This is the definition of a big swing and when Bob rolls well, Brennan has no other choice than to honor it. This is one of the moments I have made a meme of. I cannot wait for season 2.

- Wuuvy shows up to the duel and she did not come to play (A Court of Fey and Flowers). Aabria has talked about how Wuuvy is one of her favorite NPCs and I feel the same. Wuuvy and Rue's relationship has such a great arc and this moment is so pivotal.

- Fabian's no good very bad day (Fantasy High Sophomore Year). An iconic moment in D20 history that was truly wild to watch live. For everything to go so fantastically bad for Fabian and Lou was unprecedented. There is a reason why people still talk about this moment to this day.

- Amathar survives being pushed off the castle (A Crown of Candy). Brennan tried to kill Lou so many times in this campaign. I really thought Brennan had gotten him with this one, my stomach sunk. But Lou pulls it out and Amathar lives once again.

- Pib plays "Smoke on the Water" (Neverafter). "I stepped out to play 'Smoke on the Water' " is also a hall of fame quote to me. This list could be all Pib moments if I'm being honest, he's my favorite Zac character. And the fact that Zac doesn't roll well makes this moment funnier to me.

- Buddy Bear gets planted with the All Blossom (Dungeons and Drag Queens). Jujubee and Brennan owe me a therapy session for this one. I sobbed. My cat is my baby and I will be ruined the day she leaves me, so I get it. I really do.

- "Eat your dice, Brennan" (Fantasy High Sophomore Year). A great bit made physically possible by Siobhan. I hope Siobhan gives him gummy dice or something like that so that Brennan can continue to eat his dice for Junior Year.

- Orange Top Hat Fairy (Neverafter). It's a horror season and the cast is doing bits about how hot a mini is the entire finale and the Adventuring Party that followed. I felt the stress and off the walls energy through the screen. The Smooth Criminal pin was the first piece of Dimension 20 merch I bought.

- Viola's epic takedown of Phoebe (Burrow's End). Watching Rashawn absolutely crush it her first time in the dome was amazing. I loved Viola from the jump, her arc was so satisfying and fun to watch. Also the idea of a tiny stoat kicking a gun just the right way to get it to fire is hilarious. No notes other than please have Rashawn come back on every season she possibly can.

- Evan Kelmp warns the Rosemont student not to duel him (Misfits and Magic). Brennan's deadpan warning matched with the reactions of the other players and Aabria really make this scene. An underrated Brennan moment for sure.

- Stacey Fakename turns out to be real (Mentopolis). This was such a good reoccurring bit, so to have Stacey be real at the end of the story was too funny. In a season of bits, tropes, and puns - this one has the most payoff to me and is definitely my favorite.

#dimension 20 #d20 #dimension 20 spoilers #d20 spoilers #dungeons and drag queens #fantasy high #fantasy high sophomore year #the ravening war #mentopolis #misfits and magic #a crown of candy #burrow's end #neverafter #a starstruck odyssey #a court of fey and flowers

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pseudowho · 4 months

Text

Operation: Babymaker-- Ditch the Party...again

When it comes to trying for a baby, Nanami Kento always works overtime. And the reader had better be ready.

💜 💛 Part 1 LINK HERE: A Trip to the Tailors

💜 💛 Part 2 LINK HERE: Benchpress

💜 💛 Part 4 LINK HERE: Wet Dreams

💜 💛 Part 5 LINK HERE: Honeytrap/Maid Café

It's a beautiful day for a party, and Kento is a naughty, naughty goose drunk 🪿💛

And...LINK HERE to the original Ditch the Party

Warnings: 18+ throughout, breeding kink 💛

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"Kento! Are you nearly done? We've got to go!" You leaned out of the bathroom, smirking at Kento and the scrutinising eyes he ran over your niece's expertly wrapped birthday present.

Kento grumbled, mildly offended; "'Nearly done'," he scoffed, "as if I'd leave it to the last minute. It's been wrapped for a week." You padded over to him, pleased with your gift choices; a knight's costume (complete with sword and shield) and a glittery nail polish set.

"I can't believe she's five already," you crooned, fingers grazing over her gift, wistful. Leaning down, pressing a kiss to your forehead, Kento smiled into your hair.

"I can't wait," he hummed, the prospect of parenthood filling him with fizzy excitement.

You looked up at him with sternly pinched lips, and an unwavering memory of your last badly-behaved-Kento party attendance; "Well, you'll have to wait. It's child-friendly today. The strongest thing going past your lips is pink lemonade."

You headed towards the door. Kento had the absolute audacity to look at you with total innocence.

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"Happy birthda-- oh, she's gone."

Leaning down to hug the birthday girl, your niece, was futile-- she darted away laughing, slippery as an eel, into the maelstrom of other children, several dozen boys and girls her own age who had taken over the garden.

The obnoxiously loud party music, screeching kids on the bouncy castle, bustling parents making awkward small-talk, and flamboyant party entertainers turned the scene into a sensory nightmare. You felt Kento lean close, his smooth voice grazing your ear.

"I'll get us a drink, shall I?"

Before you could turn and beg to go with him, he was gone, weaving back to the kitchen with a sly look in his eye. Other parents stepped back from you, the currently child-free sacrifice, and you were as a gazelle on the Sahara.

"Tag, YOU'RE IT--"

You squeaked as a child slapped your thigh, promptly sprinting away. You smirked, tying back your hair, ready to be the cool auntie.

Ready to be IT.

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Kento strolled through your sister's kitchen, nodding politely to the horde of strangers, catching your sister's eye and being beckoned over. She looked sweaty, and harangued, but happy.

"Kento! Drink?" Without waiting for an answer, she bustled around behind her, scooping a ladle into an enormous crystal dish of juice, "Here, you'll need this, I promise. It's not that strong--"

Kento wasn't listening as two big red cups were pushed into his hands, and stared instead out of the window into the garden, his gaze meltingly soft and adoring.

He watched you, hair up, dewy in the Spring sun, laughing as you darted after squealing children. His chest burst, his head a montage of you and him and a fantasy child. Kento sighed, and took a generous swig of juice, thirsty after your long drive. He raised his fine eyebrows, glancing down into the cup.

"I don't normally like juice," he said aloud to your sister, who offered him a guilty little smile, "but this has something about it."

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Panting, and being congratulated by your watch for completing a good workout, you lolloped away from the crowd of children, who had now mercifully abandoned you for a live magician.

"Where is that man," you pondered aloud to yourself, as you poured yourself a glass of lemonade in the kitchen, "who promised me a dri-- oh!"

You slopped lemonade down your arm with a squeak of surprise, as strong arms wrapped around your waist, a wet kiss being pressed behind your ear.

"Kento! There you are. I was beginning to think you'd left me," you teased, wriggling away to wash your arms at the sink. Kento hovered behind you, predatory in his affections.

"Leave you?" He began, low and sultry, "How could I possibly, when you taste so--"

Kento was interrupted, your mother leaning past him to give you a kiss. As you spoke with her, you reapplied your lipstick, and Kento felt a wicked lick of heat in his belly, all inhibitions thrown out of the window after three large cups of 'juice'.

Your mother left, and you turned to drape your arms around Kento's neck, ready to be held at arm's length in accordance with his strict ick towards public affection. With a jolt of surprise, you felt his arms lock behind your waist instead, holding you flush against his body, his light slacks and summer shirt (why was his tie loose? how were the top three buttons suddenly undone?) leaving little to the imagination.

"That colour suits you," Kento whispered, husky as his eyes flicked down to your lips, one thumb coming up to slowly brush your bottom lip down, shuddering at the lipstick coming off onto his skin, "but it would suit my cock much better, don't you think?"

You blushed furiously, trying to battle your way out of his arms as he chuckled against your decollete. Your frantic eyes spotted the punch bowl, your sister-- from whom drinks should never be accepted-- and a series of empty cups.

You stuttered up at Kento, feeling yourself throb against your will as his tongue darted across his lips, smearing the lipstick residue on his thumb onto his neck instead. You began to hiss at him, berating, squirming against him to release yourself from his arms.

Kento groaned into you, and you clapped your hands over your face to hide your blush; "Keep that up," he threatened, low and laughing, "and I might just have to tie you up before I cum in my--"

You dropped out of his arms, wiggling under them and whipping your head round to check for other people, before pointing a finger at him. You mimed zipping your lips, eyes glistening, cheeks pink, and Kento felt his cock twitch at you telling him off. You had backed away, but Kento smirked, lopsided, and slowly loped towards you, eyes hungry, backing you into a corner.

"Tag, you're it!" A little hand batted at Kento's leg, and he flipped smoothly, spinning and jogging off into the garden after your niece. You stood, red faced, feeling your heartbeat between your legs, and wondering where to hide to cover your sha--

"You alright? Looking a bit..." Your brother-in-law walked into the kitchen, and finished weakly, unsure if he was about to inadvertently insult you. You smiled, flapping your hand at him.

"Hot," you gasped, "running round after this lot!" He smiled appreciatively, offering you a cup of your sister's deadly punch. You took a swig before holding it away from your lips, coughing.

"What the hell did she put in this?" You sputtered. Your brother-in-law looked sheepish, at least, on his wife's behalf.

"Everything, I think," he apologised, "Kento likes it, anyway--"

"Oh, he would," you snipped, before excusing yourself to the garden. Unable to spot Kento amongst the knights and princesses, your neck prickled, feeling distinctly hunted.

Staring from treehouse, to bouncy castle, to little wooden playhouse, to game of tag, you raised your cup to your mouth, ready to chug a mouthful of Dutch courage-- and you felt a long-fingered, enormous hand pluck the cup out of your grasp from behind, hearing Kento release a hum of satisfaction as he drained your punch in one gulp.

"Gorgeous punch," Kento drawled, slipping one foot between yours and one arm round your waist, "let's dip your tits in it and I can suck it right off."

Without warning, Kento hooked one of your legs from under you as you squeaked at him, and he took the opportunity to heroically catch you before you fell to the ground.

A small cluster of parents looked over to you both. Kento dusted you off, smiling at you, and gently chastising; "you shouldn't drink so much at a children's party, darling."

Your jaw dropped. Wordlessly, Kento abandoned you and hopped onto the bouncy castle with your niece; you sputtered at the faintly judgemental looks from the mothers beside you. Mortified, you moved to the party food table, pretending to organise plates to hide how flushed your face was, and how you had to clamp your legs together to stop the throbbing.

Turning round once you had calmed down, you felt Kento's arms cage you in against the table, just like the last party, and you gaped up at him in mute horror. Kento maintained eye contact, brown eyes twinkling as he reached round you, picking up an eclair from a plate of party cakes.

"Cream-filled," whispered Kento, taking a languid bite, whipped cream pouring from the end facing you. Kento chewed, leaning close to you as he swallowed, tongue darting out to lick cream off his lips, "my favourite."

You could have exploded, your whole body on fire with embarrassment and want. Nearby, your elderly great-aunt cooed as Kento appeared to lovingly offer you a bite of his pastry. You were silent, stunned; she reassured you.

"Don't mind me, dear, take a bite!"

"I'm-- I mean, uh--" you stuttered, and Kento smiled at your aunt, pulling you in sweetly by the hip.

"I think she's full, actually," Kento laughed with your aunt, smiling again as she walked off. Spinning back to face you, Kento's smile was gone and replaced by wolfish hunger again, "but not as full as you could be, all fucked-out on my cock, hmm?"

"Oh my god, Kento," you whimpered, face in your hands, now surrounded by children being invited to the table for lunch. Kento smiled, bending down to pass plates out, before pulling you aside again.

"Say it again," he growled, low and desperate, tucking your hair behind your ear, fingers lingering for a fraction too long, "but next time, I want it because I'm pulling your hair."

You ran, positively melting, in dire need of a hiding spot. Zipping through the kitchen, past the living room, you rounded the corner into the hallway, finding the nearest cupboard, and darting in.

No sooner had you reached up, pulling a little string to switch the light on...than a hand, strong and determined, closed around the doorframe, pulling Kento into view. You felt faint, both hands pressed over your mouth to stop yourself from audibly gasping.

Kento never once took his eyes off you, stepping into the narrow shelved cupboard, and reaching up for the light pull. The last thing you saw before being plunged into darkness, was Kento removing his tie.

Your senses heightened, you smelled Kento's cologne before feeling his lips on your neck, shamelessly sucking you, tasting you. Kento groaned, loud and shuddering, and he laughed as you slapped him on the chest. You felt him thrust loosely against your belly.

"I love parties," Kento lied, and you scoffed.

"You hate parties, Kento, you just love--"

"Fucking you with words before squirrelling you away somewhere?" His mouth moved lower, shifting your shirt and bra aside to pull your nipple into his mouth, hot and wet and sucking you just a little too hard, "Foreplay, darling."

You gasped, your fingers tangling in Kento's hair, his other hand making quick work of undoing your shorts. Idly slipping his hand inside and underneath your underwear, you bucked against his hand, Kento shivering with glee at your delicious wetness.

"Fuck yourself on my hand," he whispered, husky with restraint, "and we'll see who cums first, hmm? A little competition." You clapped a hand over your mouth as he curled two thick fingers inside you, so long that the edges tickled your cervix and you felt him in your belly.

The heel of Kento's hand pressed flush to your clit, and your hips stuttered as you rolled them against him, seeing stars with the friction, rutting down onto his fingers, holding him by the wrist.

Kento had already undone his trousers in the dark, and palmed his aching cock desperately inside his boxers. Whispering filth to you, sucking and releasing your breast into his mouth again and again with wet pops as he pinched your nipple between his lips, Kento wished he had more hands.

"Keep going-- fuck, good girl-- such a good girl--" he whispered, unable to stroke his cock for fear of cumming down your thigh, his head swimming with your velvety wet walls clenching around his fingers, using his hand as a toy to pleasure yourself.

Kento felt his high begin to creep down his spine, his balls clenching, biting lightly against your nipple and trying not to rip into you like a wild animal. As you felt your own orgasm creep closer, humping the heel of his hand, fucking his fingers as deep as they could reach for relief...Kento removed his hand with urgency.

"--can't-- can't hold back--" he shuddered, shunting down your underwear for better access, "--can't waste it--" Kento grabbed your hand, wrapping it round his twitching cock, and settled his weeping cockhead against your clit, keeping his other hand close.

Wrapping his fingers round yours, keeping himself pressed against your clit, Kento stroked himself fast, his groans building, until they tapered off into stuttering moans. You felt short, hot bursts of Kento's seed hit your clit, and fall into his other, waiting hand.

Kento shivered and swore to feel you rub his cockhead on your clit, using his cum as lube. He had gathered the rest of his cum, thick and white, on his fingers, and thrust them back inside you, not stopping until they grazed your cervix again. Positioning the heel of his palm against your clit again, Kento squeezed your thigh, pulling it forwards to encourage you to fuck his hand again.

You complied, Kento's seed giving you the lubrication you needed, pressing your aching pussy down around his fingers until you felt him deep in your belly again. Kento's mouth and other hand were full, busy with your breasts, kneading and massaging and pinching as he whispered encouragement to you.

"--got to cum-- suck it all up into you-- then I'll fuck it in even deeper--" Kento's drunk filth rolled off his tongue without a filter, going straight to your core, and your orgasm burned through you like wildfire.

Kento kissed you deeply, drinking your cries and whimpers down like liquor. Kento's strong hand thrust you through your ecstasy, feeling your pussy clench and suck against his fingers, leaving barely a trace of his cum behind.

Pulling his fingers out, Kento replaced his hand with his knee to keep you upright against the wall. In the dark, you blushed to hear the wet sucks of Kento licking his fingers clean.

"Ready?" He toned, low and devious.

"For wha--" With little warning, Kento lifted you against the wall, wrapping your legs around his waist, and pressing his half-hard cock into your pussy, still twitching from your recent orgasm.

Kento groaned into your neck, hot and squirming with overstimulation, letting your incoordinate shocked little thrusts suck his cock deeper, bringing it back to life. He felt himself twitch inside you, growing longer and harder as the blood rushed back.

Drunk on Kento's insistent need to fill you with his cum, you had tuned out the sounds of the party, letting Kento hold your weight and shuddering in delight as you felt his cock warm and swelling inside you. A change in the tone of voices beyond the cupboard snapped you to attention.

"Hide and seek!" cried a little voice in the garden, "You hide, and I'll count...one, two--" A flurry of little screams and footsteps came closer, into the house.

"Kento," you hissed panicking. Kento chuckled against your neck, rutting lazily into you, trembling with the bittersweet tang of overstimulation. Encouraging you to lock your hips round him, Kento looped his tie through the door handle, wrapping the tails around his hand and bringing it back to your arse you hold you up again.

"One more time," he moaned, suckling little red hearts into your skin, "I won't-- won't be long--"

Hearing Kento's wavering voice, so intoxicated by his need to fill you, you slipped two fingers down, shivering as you used the remnants of his cum to rub circles on your clit, deliberately squeezing your walls around Kento until he whimpered against you. Feeling you pleasure yourself around him had Kento reeling.

Kento began to lift you by the thighs, ramming you down onto his cock, now rock solid, and you muffled your squeals into his chest. You heard him growl, shuddering as you bit into his pecs, and it spurred him on to fuck you harder. Clinging on around his neck, Kento felt a rush of satisfaction as to your pussy quivered in response to his brutal pace.

"--so close--" he whined, his breaths hot and panting, fruity with the deadly punch that brought him to this, "--got to-- you first...fuck, so deep--" Kento's arms faltered, and you dropped deeper around his cock with a squeak, the jolt making you convulse with pleasure.

Kento came with a muted growl, biting into you, unable to press himself any deeper than he already was. Overtaken by the euphoria of feeling himself twitch and spurt inside you, hearing you trying to suppress your gasps, Kento thrust lazily into you, finally satisfied, panting as he came down from his high; you flopped against him, lost in delirious pleasure.

Your stomach dropped as you heard little voices outside the door. Kento held his tie taut as hands pulled at the handle, before declaring "it's locked!", the footsteps scurrying away. Kento chuckled into your neck, devious as you slapped at his chest again.

"You need to lie down," he whispered into you, helping you to dress yourself again, filled with anguish as he thought of his cum dripping out of you.

"I do need a lie down," you agreed, still giggling and love-drunk. Releasing the tie and taking you by the hand, Kento peered surreptitiously out of the doorway before spiriting you away to the living room. A set of little boys and girls, dressed incoordinately as princess-knights, sat playing with nail polish and make-up.

They looked up at you both as you approached, taking your rumpled appearances in as evidence of a really fun playtime.

Kento filled once more with wicked intent.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Lying back on the sofa with cucumber over your eyes, your lips were pursed as your niece plastered them with sparkly lipstick.

Kento sat cross-legged on the floor beside you, fingers splayed, nails now covered with nail polish of pink and red and gold and--

"Where did they get this cucumber?" You asked, sniffing, frowning. Kento's jaw twitched, answering after thanking a blushing little girl for her wonderful manicure.

"Sandwiches."

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sanguineterrain · 6 months

Text

restroom attendant | jason todd

Summary: Tonight is the worst night ever--you just got dumped on your birthday, and all you want to do is cry in the restaurant bathroom in peace. That is, until, the Red Hood bursts in. This city just won't cut you a break.

Pairing: Jason Todd x fem!reader

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings/tags: humor, mild angst, reader's ex-bf cheats and dumps her, jason is such a silly goose, flirting, meet ugly, canon-typical violence, awkward jason, comic relief dick grayson.

A/N: this is probably the silliest fic i've ever written LOL! i hope you guys enjoy it. please support your local jason todd enthusiast and reblog :)

the divider

Tonight sucks.

With a shaky hand, you attempt to soothe your swollen eyes. You’ve probably been in here for about twenty minutes. Your Uber has definitely left, as has your now ex-boyfriend of three years.

Yoga instructor. It’s always the yoga instructor. They’re always fucking the yoga instructor.

You swallow a mouthful of tears and phlegm and try not to let the wet sink touch your dress. All you’d wanted was a little class on your birthday, maybe have some wine and play footsie under the table with your boyfriend. But no. That would’ve been too easy for you.

You’re starting to think this city is cursed.

The door slams open. The force of it shakes the bathroom, rattles the mirrors. You spin around.

A man slides across the floor and smacks his head on the opposite wall. Red Hood appears in the doorway, the eyes of his helmet glowing eerily.

Yep. Definitely cursed.

"Let's try this again," Hood says pleasantly, reloading his gun with a fresh magazine. "And in the interest of making myself transparent: when I ask you a question, Jerry, I expect a truthful answer."

He stalks over to Jerry and heaves him up by the lapels of his suit jacket. Hood's biceps bulge as he holds Jerry against the wall. You squish yourself against the sink. Water soaks the back of your dress.

"You're crazy, I didn't do anything!" Jerry shouts, feet barely scraping the floor.

"Volume, Jerry. People are trying to enjoy their meals.”

“Let go of me, Hood! I wasn’t anywhere near the Iceberg Lounge!”

“Yeah, see, words are coming outta your mouth, but they don't match the fact that I have three people who put you at the scene. How can we remedy this inconsistency? Any ideas?"

Jerry squirms, but he's no match for Hood's strength. Your heart pounds in your chest.

"Don't give me to the cops!" Jerry begs.

"Cops are the least of your worries right now," Hood snarls. "You're damn lucky Nightwing wants to talk to you, Jerry, or your head would hurt a lot more."

Slowly, you reach for your purse, trying to pull out your phone. Instead, you knock it to the floor. Tears gather in your eyes because this night just can’t cut you a break.

“Motherfucker,” you whisper.

Hood turns, those frightening white eyes now on you. Jerry also looks at you, legs still dangling.

“Hey,” Hood says without a sign of struggle. “Shit. Y'alright? Did I swipe ya?”

“No,” you say, voice shaky.

His posture softens. “Okay. I’m not gonna hurt you. Don’t be afraid.”

“I believe you. But, um… you're in the women's bathroom.”

Red Hood gives the room a onceover.

“Huh. So we are. Dunno how that happened.” He shakes Jerry by the collar. “Why’d you run into the women’s bathroom, asshole?”

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry! Don't kill me!” Jerry wails.

“Shut it, Jesus. I'm not gonna kill you. Not yet, anyway.”

“It's fine, I was just leaving,” you say, bending down to get your purse.

“Hey, no, don't let me push you out,” Hood says. “Sorry. I'll be gone in a couple minutes.”

Hood adjusts his grip so Jerry's face is against the wall, arms and legs restrained. Then he zipties Jerry and sits him down hard on the floor. Hood presses a button on his helmet.

“Yo, N, I'm at Prescott's. Yeah, with Jerry. No, I didn't tell him to run in here, he did that all on his own! Well, I chased him for ten blocks, so I’d prefer if you’d keep your bitching to yourself. Thank you… Okay, we're in the women's bathroom, so—well, I didn't do it on purpose! No, I’m—will you just come here? There’s a side window.” Hood presses the button again with a grunt. “Dickhead.”

“Are you gonna erase my memory?” you ask.

Hood jerks, turning back to you.

“What? Hell no, I'm not gonna erase your memory. I don't do that shit, I promise.”

You slump against the sink. “That's too bad. I would prefer it.”

He looks up from Jerry’s last ziptie and pulls it extra tight. Jerry whimpers.

“How come?” Hood asks.

You shake your head. “It's nothing.”

“Hm. Doesn't look like nothing. If you're in danger—”

“I'm not in danger. I…”

You glance at Hood. You can't see his face, but his body language seems genuine. From what you've heard, Hood isn't known for mincing words or doing things he doesn't want to. And he’s good to Gothamites. Well, the law-abiding ones, anyway. He’s even been endorsed by Batman.

What's the harm in telling him about your disastrous night? Not like you'll see him again. Or Jerry.

“I got dumped,” you say.

“Ah.” Hood nods. “Been there.”

Somehow, the idea of Red Hood getting dumped is weirder than him beating up a guy in the women’s bathroom of Prescott’s.

You sniffle, and wipe your eyes with the back of your hand.

“Yeah, um. It was our three year anniversary today. He took me here, told me he was in love with his yoga instructor, and then left.”

You tear up thinking about it. Hood makes a quiet noise.

“Shit. Well, I haven't been there,” he says. “But I know infidelity. I'm sorry. Dudes are trash.”

“And it's my birthday today,” you blurt, sniffling.

“Happy birthday,” Jerry says, clutching his stomach.

“What a fucking asshole!” Hood snarls, and lets go of Jerry, who crumples like a sack of potatoes. He’s out cold in a second, frozen on the floor.

Your brows rise. “Is he okay?”

“He’s fine. It’s his first time in Gotham.” Hood shrugs. “Anyway, where was I? Right, your asshole ex. Like it's not enough to publicly dump you, and then he goes and does it on your birthday? Who is this guy? I'll go talk to him right now.”

You laugh a loud, snorting laugh. It bounces off the tiles.

Hood tilts his head. “What’d I say?”

You catch your breath and wave your hand.

“No, nothing, I’m sorry. I’ve just had a crappy night and that’s probably the nicest thing anyone’s ever offered to me.”

“I mean it,” Hood says. “I’ll scare him if you want.”

“As tempting as that is, I don’t want to be an accessory to a crime.”

You also don’t want to put your ex in the ICU, no matter how much he might deserve it. Best to let the universe do its thing.

“You’d be acquitted, don’t worry.” Hood leans against the stall. “I’d never letcha go to jail.”

You smile, your ears growing warm. “You don’t even know me. What if I deserve it?”

“Nah. I got a good sense about people. I can tell you’re sweet. Probably don’t even run through red lights.”

“I try not to,” you say, heat spreading to your face.

“Yeah, a good girl. I figured as much.”

Your eyes widen. Hood coughs and rubs his neck. Even his coughs sound intimidating through the helmet, but that’s negated by his scrunched-up posture.

“Fuck. Sorry. That wasn’t a come-on,” he says. “I mean, it sounded like one, but I’m realizing what a creep I am, flirting with you in a bathroom with a zip-tied criminal. Sorry.” He shakes his head. “I hate myself.”

You grin. “It’s okay. You made my night better, actually. Thanks.”

“That’s a testament to how terrible your night’s been if I made it better.”

You shrug. “Could always be worse. I bet Jerry had an even shittier night than me.”

“You’d win that bet. But I—”

The window swings open with a clunk. Nightwing pops his head in. He looks at Hood, then you.

“Uh,” he says. “Evening. What’s going on?”

“What’s going on is it took you almost ten minutes to get here,” Hood says, back in Vigilante Mode. “Did you get lost?”

Nightwing smiles with all his teeth. “I was actually cleaning up your mess at the Bowery, Hood. You’re welcome.”

He looks at you. “Hi. Sorry about this. I hope we didn’t ruin your night. If there’s anything we can reimburse you for…”

You shake your head. “It’s okay. My night was already sunk. Don’t worry about it. Thanks for keeping Gotham safe.”

Nightwing laughs. “The pleasure is ours.”

“Alright, enough chattering, Dickwing,” Hood says. “Take him.”

He lifts the unconscious Jerry, pushing him up to the window. He does so effortlessly, his jacket riding up to reveal his skin-tight jumpsuit.

You look away before he catches you staring. There’s definitely something wrong with you.

Nightwing takes Jerry and waves at you. Then he disappears.

“So, uh,” Hood says. “I gotta go.”

“Oh! Right, of course. Sorry to keep you.”

“Now what’re you apologizing for?” he asks, and it almost sounds like a tease. You wonder what his smile looks like. What color his eyes are.

“Well, I really didn’t mean to keep you…”

“You didn’t keep me,” Hood says, and you can hear the warmth even through his decoder. “This is probably the best arrest I’ve ever made.”

He starts to climb through the window, then stops. He digs into one of the pockets of his belt and pulls out a scrap of paper.

“This is my number,” he says. “Well, it’s kind of the vigilante hotline. But you can reach me here, in case you ever need help.”

Hood walks over to give it to you. He smells like gunpowder and oranges. He’s even larger this close, the width of his shoulders dwarfing you.

“Thank you,” you say quietly.

He nods and backs up, clapping his hands.

“Right. So I’ll go… Bye.”

Hood looks at you for a moment more. Then he hops up onto the window sill and slides out, somehow graceful despite his bulk. The window closes.

Your dress has dried, which is nice. You walk out of the bathroom. It’s a miracle no one else has come in.

You get your coat and this time, when you see the empty seat across from yours, you don’t burst into tears, which is progress. You call another Uber and go to wait for it at the front. The hostess approaches you.

“Ma’am?” she says, and holds out a small, plastic container. In it is a slice of tiramisu.

“I didn’t order this,” you say.

“It was called in and paid for by a Mr. R.H. He wishes you a happy birthday.”

“Oh. Thank you.”

You’re definitely leaving a five-star review on Yelp.

#jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #jason todd fanfiction #red hood x you #red hood x reader #red hood imagine #batman fanfiction #dc fanfiction #jason todd reader insert

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trendywaifus · 6 months

Text

↳ i fantasize about you all the time!

the girls can’t get you off of their mind so they jerk off to you.

featuring — transfem! march 7th, stelle, bronya, kafka x fem!reader

cw: pillow humping, cursing, grinding, cream pie, facefucking, masterbation, pet names, not proofread

sighing happily, march plops onto her plush bed. her recent mission was incredible and felt like a fresh breath of air compared to the previous ones that involved wild goose chases and non-stop wrongly arrests. the planet she visited was beautiful; full of breathtaking sights, delicious foods, large cities, and for once, normal people.

with her precious camera in hand, she goes to her recent photo album and browses through series of photos she took over the duration of the mission. there was a few particular pictures that made her smile and shake her head—stelle messing around with a few exotic monkeys while you were nearly kneeling over laughing and danheng standing there looking awfully dumbfounded in the background. warmth floods her body when her gaze observes your pretty face; parted plush lips spilling with laughter, literal tears in your crinkled eyes, the way the sun shined so perfectly on your face—aeons, you were gorgeous.

“ geez, i feel so mushy inside now. “ she giggles, skimming over a few pictures, only taking a few seconds to look at them. it went from gorgeous scenery, animals, group photos, to you. march abruptly stops at a photo of you idly eating a slice of cheese cake. she eyes your pink lips wrapped around the fork and then her gaze shifts to the blissful expression on your face. she remembers the soft, dulcet moan you produced after taking a bite of the slice of cheesecake. gosh, did it really taste that good to make you moan like that? well, it was delicious but seriously?

without thinking, march takes her bottom lip between her teeth. all that aside, you sounded so pretty. march can’t help but imagine those pretty lips wrapped her dick. blood rushes down her abdomen and she feels herself getting hard. heat rushes in her cheeks as dirty thoughts of you fills her mind. “ not again. .” she groans, glancing down at the growing bulge poking out from her skirt. she feels ashamed for thinking about you this way; you’re her best friend after all.

“ ugh. .” she sighs, carefully setting her camera to the side. march adjusts herself to tug her skirt and panties down to her plush thighs, freeing her hardened length. she wraps her hand around the base and work her way up. closing her eyes, she envisions you kissing her cockhead while grinning up at her with roguish eyes. “ don’t just look at me like that.” march groans, softly squeezing herself. she can almost hear you giggle in response and take her inside your hot mouth, teasingly circling your tongue around her tip.

“ aeons, please st-stop teasing me, (name). . “ march moans, throwing her head back in frustration as she hurriedly drags her palm back down her cock. she imagines your head slowly lowering down until your mouth hits her abdomen. her dick is pretty average and little more on the skinny side, so you shouldn’t have to worry much about gagging. march lets out a soft moan, buckling her hips as she starts to speed up her strokes. pleasure courses through her body like a wildfire.

“it feels so good, keep doing that, (name)–please. . !” she begs, focusing her attention on her leaking tip, smearing precum along the shaft. she falls back on the mattress, covering her mouth with her free hand as a high pitched moan escapes her lips. she repeatedly thrusts her cock into her hand, imagining herself sloppily mouth fucking you. “ ah, c’mon, just like that—i’m gonna cum soon! “ march breathes, arching her back in pleasure. she feels a familiar knot twisting and turning in her belly which only prompt her to go faster. despite her hand burning with exhaustion, she maintains her pace.

the thought of you peering up at march with hazy eyes as she’s desperately fucking your mouth drove her over the edge. “ cumming—cumming! “ she nearly screams in a muffled voice, eyes rolling to the back of her head as cum spurts out from her cock and spills all over her thighs and the sheets.

her cock twitches as she slowly ceases her movement, easing herself down from her high. filled with ecstasy, she sighs deeply.

she wishes you were more than her best friend.

grumbling, stelle tosses and turns in bed, restless as she’s unable to fall asleep. heaving out a small sigh of frustration, she lays on her back. “ maybe i should of had a warm glass of milk before bed or asked for another room. “ she mumbles, running a hand through her grey locks. you’d think a luxurious hotel would have fairly soft beds but nope. instead, the mattress felt more on the harder side and bumpy. she wonders if march and danheng had similar beds like hers.

“ even if my bed’s terrible to sleep in, i still would sleep better if (name) was here. .” stelle whines, longing to be cuddled up in your arms and nuzzled up against you. she wants her face buried in the crook of your neck, inhaling your sweet scent while your nimble fingers soothingly comb through her hair. stelle whimpers softly, imagining your hand running down her back and slipping under her shirt to massage the warm skin underneath.

stelle instinctively palms herself through her sweatpants, breath hitched as her cock twitches. “ (name). .” she lowly groans, pretending that you’re the one rubbing her, whispering sweet promises into her ear—whispering about how you wanna ride her thick cock until she’s milked dry. “ wanna fuck you. .” stelle whispers out, screwing her eyes shut as she lets herself get swallowed up by lust and desire.

“ please let me, please. .” stelle begs, hurriedly pulling down her sweatpants and boxers just enough for her stiff cock to spring out from its fabric confinements. she takes herself in her hand and strokes her swollen red tip. she imagines flipping you over on your stomach and have your hips up in the air, displaying your pretty ass and pussy to her. stelle’s length twitches with excitement. she’d knead your ass and tease your drooling entrance with her cockhead, coating it with your juices before slipping inside.

“ shit. .! “ stelle groans, fist pumping her cock. all she could think about is your pussy clamping around her as she fills you up, bottoming you out. she desperately wishes you were here so her imagination can become reality. your cunt is far more perfect than her hand. she huffs in frustration, stopping herself mid stroke. she turns herself around on her stomach and props her elbows against the mattress. she snatches the pillow and situates it under her so her cock is pressed up against it.

another groan escapes her lips as she slowly drags herself along the smooth, warm surface. a sense of relief and lust washes over her. “ so much better. .” she chokes out, rolling her hips against the pillow, beads of precum darkening the thin covering. she envisions the pillow being you; getting fucked into the mattress while you’re nothing but a moaning mess. stelle throws her head back in ecstasy at the mere thought. she moves her hips faster, each thrust pushing her closer to her orgasm.

mind clouded with lust, drool dribbles down her chin. “ wanna cum inside (name)—please, i’ve been good. .! “ stelle moans out, the bed creaks as her pace becoming more feverish and sloppy. she can hear your sweet voice in her head, telling her to cum and not a moment later, she does just that. “ c-cumming. .! “ she whimpers loudly, thrusting one last time before her hips stutters, ropes of cum shoots all over the pillow and her stomach.

hair sticks to her sweaty forehead as her head droops down to see the mess she’s made. “ how am i going to clean this up. .” she wonders tiredly, slowly catching her breath.

“ you sure you don’t want me to bring you back anything while i’m out? “ you asked with a warm smile, massaging bronya’s tense shoulders. she melts under your touch, sighing in content. “ it’s fine my love, don’t trouble yourself. you’ve been stuck here with me for quite awhile, i preferred if you go out and get some fresh air. “ she answers, turning her head a bit to give you a loving smile.

“ if you say so. “ you dipped down to place a lingering kiss on bronya’s lips, delicately running your hands down her arms before detaching yourself away to leave. her cheeks turns pink from the simple gesture and she waves you goodbye with a shy smile as you exit her office. grabbing her pen, bronya’s gaze returns back to the current document she was working on.

after forty minutes of signing and reading lengthy documents, the sudden memory of you running your hands down her arms as you kissed her pops into her mind. she swallows thickly, why was she thinking about that? it was just a simple innocent gesture shared between lovers. bronya adjusts herself in her chair, loosely crossing her legs, setting her ankle on the opposite knee. shame swells in her chest as indecent thoughts flows through her head. bronya’s only been with you for a couple of months now and if something like that is able to rile her up then she’s going to have to get use to it.

her cheeks turns darker as she feels her cock grow hard against her tights. she sighs exasperatedly, grabbing a fistful of her hair in utter annoyance. bronya tries to resume her work and did her best to ignore it but she couldn’t. when she attempts to think about something else other than you, she couldn’t either. bronya’s very confident to say she’s well–disciplined but it seems to be not true when it comes to you.

“ i musn’t. .” she whispers, voice strained as the thought of masterbating in her office enters her mind. if she makes too much noise, the guards present outside of the double doors might get alerted. not to mention, you’re also coming back soon, considering you left about forty minutes ago. she can’t face anyone—especially you like this. if you were to walk in right now, you’ll see bronya’s cheeks stained with a deep red and a look of frustration on her face.

she has to have some sort of relief if she wants to think clearly again. this will be the first and last time she’ll ever do this. tentative, she uncrosses her legs and leans her back against the chair. her deft fingers snakes under her dress to rub her clothed length. she nearly sighs in relief as she runs her gloved palm along down the shaft. chewing on her lip, bronya’s eyes flutters closed as she gives in to the lewd thoughts plaguing her mind.

bronya sees herself bending you over on her desk, peppering kisses along your back while rocking her hips against your ass. she can hear you beautifully gasp as she roams a hand down your stomach to play with your clit. “ you don’t have to worry about a thing, sweetheart, allow me to take you here. “ she softly moans, gently squeezing herself through her tights. if you let her, she’ll first fuck your thighs, slotting her cock between the supple flesh and indulge herself.

precum leaks out of her tip, causing a small dark patch to form on her tights. aeons, bronya can just feel it; your thighs squeezing her while she slowly thrusts between them. a gentle moan surges from her chest. her hips buckles, eagerly pushing up against her palm. the supreme guardian desperately wants to free her arching length from the fabric confinements to please herself properly but she’s afraid of going further.

in bronya’s fantasy, she’s pulling herself away from your thighs and if you give her permission to, she’ll finish all over your pretty back. she lets out a shaky sigh, trying her best to fist pump her shaft. “ i’m going to enter inside now, okay sweetheart? “

she knows that her dick is little more on the heavier side so she’ll try her best to be gentle. excitement fills her chest at the thought of your gummy walls welcoming her cock while she settles inches in you. once fully inside, she’ll fuck you ever so lovingly against the desk. “ mmph, as expected you’re taking me so well. . . “ she whispers, increasing her pace and roughly rubbing her palm against her swollen tip.

“ you feel so wonderful, my love—i’m nearly there. . !” bronya breathes, feeling tension rise in her belly. her hips are nearly off the seat of the chair as she desperately rolls and grinds her cock into her hand. sweat rolling down her brow, chest heaving heavily as she breathed, her flushed face crunched up with pleasure—she swears if anyone barges in to see her like this, they’ll think she’s having some sort of rare panic attack.

her hand flies to her mouth, muffling a loud broken moan as the tension in her abdomen tightens until it becomes utterly unbearable. before she knows it, a large patch of her tights is sticky and drenched with cum. bliss wraps around her like a blanket and her mind becomes clear again. she lets out a deep sigh, back slightly slouched against the chair. the underlying sense of shame doesn’t mix well with the satisfaction she’s feeling right now.

when bronya hears the doors creak open and your excited voice calling out to her, she immediately straightens her back up, fixes her dress, and grabs her pen; acting as if she didn’t cum at the thought of fucking you right where she sits.

“ welcome back, my love. “ she musters up a warm smile as you approached with a few bags in hand, trying her best to not appear undone.

kafka lazily takes the last sip of her wine and places the empty glass on a small table next to her. “ hmm. .” she sighs, resting her cheek on her palm with a bored look on her beautiful bare face. soft classical music idly plays in the background as she thought about what to do for the night. resting in her own room while drinking wine and listening to her playlist is peaceful, but she’s starting to get a bit restless. bothering her fellow colleagues were out the question since it’s already late.

clad in a black robe, kafka stands up from her chair and sits on her bed. when she glances over at her phone on the nightstand, you immediately come into mind. it’s been months since you two broken up and to be truthful, she regrets letting you leave her and the stellaron hunters. but since you’re in the astral express crew now, she doesn’t have to worry much about your safety. also, elios did say you and her were going to cross paths one day as well.

but fuck, during nights like this when she had you, you’d already be folded like a pretzel on her bed getting stuffed full of her dick. kafka wonders what you’re doing right now. are you thinking about her like how she’s thinking about you? well, you should be. she made sure to convey her love for you in all different types of ways and positions before you left. hell, if you were to contact her right now and ask for her to prove herself, she’ll be there within an hour. sneaking on the astral express train is extremely easy. but apparently, you want nothing to do with her which she believes is a poor lie, but oh well.

a sly smirk tugs on her lips as a exciting idea settles in her head. “ my pretty girl wouldn’t mind. “ she says, moving her robe a bit to wrap her fingers around her hard length in one hand while the other grabs the phone from the nightstand. stroking herself a few times, she goes to her camera and angles herself so everything below her neck is only showing then she presses record. kafka smoothes her hand up her cock. “ ya know, darling, if you were here right now, i wouldn’t even let ya sleep.” she drawls, a soft chuckle escapes her lips. she imagine being in between your legs, eating out that pretty pussy of yours. fuck, you’d taste so good on her tongue right now.

or better yet, your pretty lips sucking her length while she sips her wine. you use to be so eager to please her and she’d always return the favor. that was one of many things she loved about you. she releases a breathy moan, pumping her shaft into her hand. purple tresses spills from her shoulders as her head tilts to the side. “ fuck, i miss you baby. .” she moans, biting her lip. she starts to feel herself grow desperate at the thought of pushing your knees against your chest and splitting you open with her fat cock. she wonders, what type of expression you’ll make? perhaps that one fucked out expression of yours where its clear that you’re drunk off her dick; face twisted with pleasure, wild (e/c) eyes filled with nothing but infatuation and lust, and swollen lips parted open.

“ i know you miss me—i just know you do, darling. . !” kafka’s practically fisting her cock, jerking her hips up to meet the strokes of her hand, not caring if her robe becomes undone. she bets you’ll take it like a champ as she reshapes your tight pussy. “ such a good girl for me, baby. fuck, i wanna cum all over your pretty pussy. i know you’ll like that, yeah?” kafka rasps, swiping her thumb over her drooling tip to use the precum as lube.

“ damn, i might actually cum faster than i expected. . ! “ she groans through gritted teeth and then forces out a strained laugh. she feels a knot tighten in her stomach. desperate to cum, her fist pumps becomes less aimed and more sloppy. “ keep your eyes on me, darling—i-i’m going to cum!“ kafka moans out, throwing her head back in pure ecstasy as ropes of cum spurts from her cock and spills all over her.

kafka mumbles out a small string of curses while smiling at the mess she made on herself. she felt no shame when she ends the recording and sends the video to you.

if anything, she wishes that you were here to clean her up by licking the cum off her half naked body.

#march 7th x reader #stelle x reader #stelle smut #bronya x reader #bronya smut #kafka x reader #kafka smut #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail smut #honkai star rail women x reader

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satorusugurugurl · 5 days

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Weak Spot

Summary: Cuddling on the couch leads to a fascinating discovery.

Pairing: Choso Kamo, Gojo Satoru, Ryomen Sukuna (Modern AU), Nanami Kento, Geto Suguru, Fushiguro Toji, FAB!Reader

Word Count: 4,141

Warning: horny reader, whimpers, moans, trying to stay quiet, accidental orgasms, tickling, roughhousing, foot massages, foot play if you squint?? Hair pulling, public smexy stuff, hugging, of weak spots

A/N: Just a quick series of blurbs with JJK men finding your weak spots thank you for all of your suggestions!!

**MDNI!!**

Choso Kamo:

The evening you had started as a quiet one. You and Chosi sat on your couch watching some rom-com you had picked out. You’re fully invested in the film, lying on your side munching away at popcorn as Choso lies behind you, his arms wrapped around your waist. His eyes are heavy, and he drops his head to your shoulder with a tired hum.

There was nothing out of the ordinary when he did that. Resting your chins on each other's shoulders was something both of you often did—sort of a silent way of expressing the love the two of you shared. But, the second Choso rubs his chin over the spot where your shoulder meets your neck, you cry out, covering your mouth.

At first, your boyfriend freezes up, eyes widening at the sound leaving your lips. For a moment, Choso thought that maybe he had hurt you, but as he felt your trembling against him, he knew that’s not the case. You moaned so loud like you did when he would fuck you. That reaction made him move his chin harder over the same spot. The moan that leaves your mouth has his cock twitching in his pants as your body rocks back.

“C-Cho—w-waah!” He rubs harder, his large hands leaving your waist to cup your breasts gently. “Ah—fuck, nnngh.” The way your body jerks as if you’re trying to escape his grasp has him groping you harder, pulling your back into his chest. “Choso, h-hold on a second baby.”

“I found it.” His gruff voice whispers over your neck, causing goose flesh to rise over your arms. “Found your weak spot.”

“B-Babe—ah~ wait~!” Your boyfriend's hands grope your hips, his chin digging into your sweet spot as his hips rut against your ass. “C-Cho-Choso.”

Your boyfriend hums in approval. Hearing you get off without him even touching you between the legs fills him with a certain sense of pride. The strange new feeling has him rubbing circles into your sweet spot with the tip of his chin. The pressure, gentle rubbing, and the feeling of his hot breath against your skin have you pressing your thighs together.

You were crying out softly, whimpering into the back of your hand. The sensations and stimulation to your neck had a pleasure twisting in your lower abdomen, your underwear soaked. All of it felt so good, but it wasn’t enough to send you over the edge just yet; it was the feeling of Choso’s hardening erection that had you teetering on the edge like you were a tightrope walker.

“Haaah~ oh fuck.”

Chiso chuckled deeply, “Yeah, you want more.” He digs his chin into that spot on your neck, and you can even form words.

“Ngggh! Hah! Fuck~ c-cumming—c-cumm—” One of your hands reached back, turning at his dark locks of hair, while the other clawed at the cushion of the couch as your orgasm hit you.

Your boyfriend opens his mouth to speak but can’t even begin to find the words to say. His focus is drawn to you. You’re shaking; legs pressed firmly together as you tug a bit harder on his hair with each wave of the orgasm you ride.

“O-Oh fuck,” you whine, feeling his breathing heavily, “I-I can’t believe I just—nngh!” Yours flipped so your face is pushed against the sofa, and Choso is scrambling behind your, yanking your sweats down as you feel his hard cock rutting over the curve of your ass.

“So hot; need to feel you do that again, but this time on my cock, okay?” His voice is desperate, shaking, and full of horny desire. “Is that okay, honey?”

“More than okay; give it to me, Cho~!”

Gojo Satoru:

A black blindfold flew past your head as you squeaked, turning the corner into the living room. “I-I said I was sorry!” You squealed happily as your boyfriend followed close behind. “I didn’t know you were ticklish on your ribs! I swear! I promise!!” You don’t even come close to meeting the front door as you’re gently tackled to the soft rug.

“That’s the last time I ever let my infinity down around you!” He playfully growls as he crawls on top of you, fingers wiggling around your face. “In the meantime. I do believe some form of payback is due!”

You can’t protest because his fingers are tickling your sides. “Ah! No! Hahah!” You scream, kicking your legs out as you’re trying to strip his hands from tickling against your rib cage. Every attempt you make to stop him is thwarted as it easily evades your grasp.

Long fingers that you usually love, we’re now you’re the mortal enemy. They move against your cage, tickling every spot that you weren’t sure if Gojo assumed they were or if the bastard was using Six-Eyes to his advantage. Because each time his fingers grazed over your rib cage, which also happened to be your weak spot, you squirmed underneath your boyfriend. You tried to hide the moans with laughter; it was useless because, despite desperately trying to hide them, your squirming legs were all Satoru needed to see.

He kept his fingers moving, tickling you faster, smirking as you bit down on your bottom lip. “Mmmnngh!” your friend is trying to free himself. “Satoru! Stop! Please!” you cried out in between laughs and moans.

“Why?” he cooed with a smirk, “Why do you want me to stop, sweetheart?”

“B-Be—aha!” Your back arched as your mouth dropped. “I-I ah!”

“Is it because you're getting all hot and bothered?”

“No!”

“You’re a liar~”

“Mmmm fuck! Ooooh fuck!” Your chest heaved as you shook underneath him, his hips slotting between yours as the smell of musk and clean linen invaded your senses, making you feel high. Off of the pleasure, the tension, everything just seemed to enhance the pleasure that was pulsating in your pussy. “Fuck!”

“Hehe! Someone’s gettin’ all wet and turned on~!”

“T-Toru!”

“Yeah~? Want me to fu—”

“C-Cumming!”

Your body arched, shaking as your friend clamped your thighs together, but Satoru’s body stopped you from doing so. Just allowing you to kick your legs out, toes curling as you cummed hard. Satoru’s face turned a bright red as he pulled his hands away from your ribs. You lay there on the ground panting heavily, covering your eyes with your forearm, the shame of what just happened fostered inside your chest.

Satoru was silent for the longest moment, his eyes meeting yours as he sputtered and blinked, a trickle of blood running from his nose. “D-Did you just cum?” you could only groan, nodding once.

“T-Tickling my ribs, I-it’s my weak spot ass.”

“O-Oh—” you both sat in silence, “uhm sweetie.”

“Huh?” you pulled your arm away, “what?”

Satoru started tugging your leggings down, panting like a feral animal. “Let me tickle you again with my cock inside of you!” you squeaked as he pounced on you grinding his hips against yours. That night, you both learned that Satoru had a bit of a tickling kink and that you were happy to serve him.

Ryomen Sukuna (Modern AU):

“Are you sure about this?” your boyfriend asked gently as he took a marker and marked where your cartilage piercing was going to go.“You're okay with me piercing you?”

“You were perfectly fine piercing me last night.” you waggle your eyebrows at him before taking your bottom lip between your teeth as he deadpans.

“That was with my cock, this is a big ass needle that’s gonna be stabbed through your fucking ear.” He gently holds your earlobe, giving it a gentle tug. “Dor—”

“Mmm!” Your eyes go wide as your hands fly up to cover your mouth. Your earlobe is being held between Sukuna’s thumb and index finger. His eyes are slightly wide as he stares at your ear in stunned silence.

Crimson eyes search your face as if looking for the answer as to why you made such a sexual noise over him, touching your ear. But you don’t say anything, your eyes darting around his workspace at the tattoo shop. Slightly annoyed by your lack of attention, focused on him. Your boyfriend narrows his eyes before giving your earlobe another sharp tug.

“Nnngh!!” you moan into the palms of your hands, trying to silence the noise that threatens to escape.

Noticing that your eyes are still averted from his, Sukuna gently runs his fingers up your ear, caressing it slowly and sensually, as if it was your pussy that he teased and edged the night before. With each stroke of his black, gloved finger, you twitch and turn against his chair, your hands clamping down harder over your mouth.

Your boyfriend stands up, crawling up onto the chair with you, his leg strategically placed on either side of your hips, trapping you underneath the large frame of his body. His eyes darken with lust as he rubs his finger back down to your earlobe slowly back up. The way you arched slightly against the covered black chair had his cock tightening in his pants; his breathing was heavy as he pulled his hand away.

“Fuck,” you gently whisper into the room, finally removing your hands. “Kuna, uhm may—e-eegh!” you get your teeth as your boyfriend leans his tattooed face down, blowing against your sensitive earlobe. The sensation has your eyes rolling back as you moan loudly, not even trying to muffle the sounds. “K-Kuna!” His left gloved hand shoots up, covering your mouth as he takes your earlobe between his teeth, gently nibbling on it.

Your eyes are all back as you buck your hips upward, searching for something to grind yourself on as pleasure explodes within your abdomen. You’ve always had sensitive ears, but none of your partners in the past have ever played with them before. So for Sukuna to not only massage the sensitive flesh but also take it between his teeth and gently suck on it, you were shocked to be getting off on it.

Here you were, having your boyfriend suckle and nip at your ear as his hand kept clamped over your mouth. Your hands shot up, gripping his black tank top, holding onto the fabric as pleasure rocks through every nerve of your body. A familiar coil tightened in your stomach, and for a second, you panicked before you realized this man, the man that you were falling in love with, was about to make you cum from playing with your ears.

All it takes is a nibble on the sensitive skin, and your eyes are wide as you rock shamelessly into the air. Your orgasm hits you fast and hard, giving you heart palpitations as you grip Sukuna tighter, holding onto him for dear life as you cum in the tattoo shop he works at. Your boyfriend sucks and gently nibbles at your skin. His hand was still firmly against your mouth, silencing the moans and whines threatening to alert his coworkers about what you were up to.

Your boyfriend only removes his hand from your mouth as you gently release your grip on his tank top. Pulling his gloved hand back, he stares down, panting heavily like some rabid animal. The way your breast moves up and down as you gasp for air, basking in the afterglow of your orgasm, has him moving before you even think. You follow him with hazy eyes, watching as he rips the gloves off his hands, tossing them in the trash before he locks the door to his office.

“Take off your pants,” he grunts as he undoes the buckle to his belt. “I’m going to fuck you, and then I’m going to pierce both of your ears. And once they’re healed.” He sticks his tongue out, revealing his piercing that glimmers in the lights above. “ I’m gonna run my piercing up and down the sensitive studs that I’m going to put in your ears myself.”

Nanami Kento:

“Oooh, my god, my feet are killing me,” you mutter as you lie on the couch, and your husband sits down next to you, taking your feet gently and placing them in his lap. “Whoever invented high heels needs to be sent to hell.”

Nanami chuckles at his hands, gently moving to massage her clean feet. Both of you had just gotten out of showers and settled onto the couch for a quiet evening after nonstop meetings at the high school. Hair is brushed back, still damp, as his thumbs gently move up and down your feet, causing you to tell your head back and moan.

“Does that feel good?” he gently asked, increasing the pressure against the sole of your foot. You respond with another moan. I suppose I’ll take that as a yes.”

You lay your head back against the throw pillows, losing yourself in your husband’s gentle caresses as he works out the nuts and the sore tendons of your feet. It feels so sinfully good that it has you gently squirming against the couch. But when he gently runs his well-trimmed nails up, scratching the bottom of your foot, you moan. Not in satisfaction of the relief that his fingers bring, but one that is full of sexual desire.

Your hand stops just above the pad of your foot as his eyes slowly turn towards you. Both of you stare at one another in shock. That had never happened before. Nanami had given you plenty of massages in the past, so why was this one different?

“D-Did that hurt?” Kento asks. As he gently begins, he rubs your foot again.

“N-No, it just felt good.”

“Like this?” he continues to need your foot using his thumbs. But you don’t have the same reaction you did before. “Or this?” The second he’s dragging his nails from the tip of your toe down to your heel, pleasure erupts from you. “Oh, that was it.”

“O-Oh, my god!” He does it again and again and again. “K-Kento! Fuck!”

Honey brown eyes, watch as your toes curl with each scratch of his nail. “Huh~ I knew your neck was sensitiv., but this is something I’ve never seen before.” his scratches increase in speed, and his eyes are transfixed on your face, watching as you pant and moan, your back arching as you throw your head back. “If I didn’t know any better, I would assume that you’re about to have an orgasm.”

“Fuuuck~ fuck fuck~ Keeento!” You grab onto the sofa, back arching higher as your pussy begins to pulsate as intense pleasure reaches its peak. “Oh my god! Oooh, my fucking god!!” you scream out loud as you cum hard. You're shaking as you try, pulling your feet out of your husband’s lap only to have him pull them back, his nails scratching harder against the soles of your feet, extending your orgasm and making it all the more intense.

You don’t even have a chance to recover from your surprise orgasm when your husband is pulling you into his lap, making you straddle the hard bulge in his pajama pants. He grabs both sides of your hips and rocks you gently back and forth over his erection. His breath is hot against your mouth before he slams his lips against yours. His tongue doesn’t even ask for permission before sliding it into your mouth. It wraps around your tongue, and the lingering taste of white wine and chocolate dances over your taste buds, making your hips faster against Kento’s.

Your quiet evening wasn't as peaceful as you both had anticipated. But it was an evening that all massages were purely orgasmic.

Geto Suguru:

“Ya’ know, when you texted me at 10:20 at night asking me to come over, I didn’t think it was for this reason.” Suguru chuckles from behind you, twisting different strands of your hair in his hands. “But practicing braiding hair for the girls is kind of hot.”

“The girls have been begging me to do a different hairstyle. I could practice on myself, but it’s easier this way.” His words trail off, and you can’t help but smile at him in the mirror.

“Ah~ you just wanted to see me~!” Suguru’s tanned skin slightly flushed as he pouted. “Oooh baby, it’s okay~!”

“Alright l, alright, that’s enough out of you.” He grumbled, giving one of the sections a harsh tug.

You inhaled sharply, the sound choking out with a moan. Suguru winced, looking into the mirror before you to whisper a rushed apology until he saw the look on your face. Your cheeks were flushed, eyes half-lidded as your hand was over your mouth. Geto stared down at you, eyes wide, as your whole body trembled.

“Did you just moan?”

“N-Nuh-uh-haaaah!” You yelped out a louder moan as Suguru tugged your hair again, harder this time. “Nnngh, oooh god.”

“You did!” He released the three sections of hair before running his fingers through the strands of your hair, gently caressing the crown of your head. You thought you were in the clear, but just as you were about to breathe out in relief, your boyfriend grabbed a handful of your hair, tugging it sharply. That breath of relief turned into a moan so sensual, so pornographic, Suguru tugged again.

“H-Haaah Suguru p-please!” You mewled as you gripped the bathroom sink, “I-I—fuck!”

Your eyes were watching him in the mirror, a sinister smirk on his lips as his eyes trailed up and down your back. Watching how your muscles tensed up with every tug, how goosebumps rose against your skin. Suguru was getting off on the fact you were squirming just like you did when his cock was buried deep inside of you.

“Fuccck, you’re so goddamn fuckin hot!” His hand tugged a handful of hair harder and harder. “You look like you’re in such a euphoric state. Are you seriously getting off on this?”

“I-I—fuck! Fuck fuck fuck.” Your nails scratched over the marble counter as Suguru pulled you up by your hair, bent you over the counter, and his fingers massaged your scalp. “S-Sugu-Suguru~!” You cried out as he pulled your hair back, smirking at you in the mirror.

“Look at yourself, Princess~ look at how turned on you are over me just playing with your hair.” His hot breath blew against your ear. “This is good to know for when I fuck you from behind, yeah? Is your pussy clamping down each time I tug?”

“F-Fuck! Fuuuck!” you grip the edge of the sink harder, your body shaking as your toes curl. “Sugu~!”

“If you beg, I’ll give you what you want.”

“N-No, Sugu, wait pl—”

“Wait~? You don’t want me to fuck you.” A final sharp tug was the last straw. You moaned loudly, eyes shut tight as you creamed your panties. You whispered and whined as you convulsed against the counter. Suguru stood behind you, biting his lip as he watched you unravel from something minuscule.

It was only when your body stopped shaking that Suguru released his grip on your hair. He was beginning to pull down his sweats when you were around, grabbing a handful of his dark, luscious locks and giving it a sharp tug. Suguru let out a moan that was just as pornographic as yours had been as you pulled him down to your height, glaring into his eyes.

“I-If you don’t fuck me right now, I’m gonna tug your hair until you cum in your pants.”

As tempting as your threat was, Suguru would rather not cum in his sweats like a teenager. Instead, he grabbed your hips, whirling you back towards the mirror, and tugged your sweats down along with his own. “Yes, my Princess, as you wish.”

Toji Fushiguro:

You never thought domestic life would be for you in all your years. But when you met Toji, your views changed. Your boyfriend was a single father, and you were absolutely smitten by him. Toji was a bit brash and liked to gamble, but he was incredibly smart and spoiled you rotten. So you had no problem cooking dinner and helping around the house with his help. The longer you were with him, the more you loved it.

The three of you were a family.

Standing in the kitchen, cooking dinner for the three of you had become a nightly routine you adored. You were standing over the kitchen sink, washing the dishes you had soaked for a bit. You had time to kill, seeing that Megumi was finishing up a play date with his friend Yuuji. Yuuji’s dad would walk them home in about an hour and give them more than enough time to prepare dinner and clean the kitchen.

Just as you were finishing the dishes in the sink, large buff arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you firmly against a broad chest; the intoxicating smell of amber and driftwood wafted over Toji, buried his face and your neck. It was such a domestic gesture, and it had you weak in the knees.

“Fuck that food smells so good.” He grumbled, hugging you a bit tighter, stealing your breath away. “God, I’m so lucky to have you.” Toji groaned into your ear as he lightened his grip on you before squeezing you again.

The feeling of him robbing himself so tightly around you wasn’t at all painful. Instead, it was the exact opposite. You felt your body burning as he squeezed you tight before releasing you again. The smell of him, the feeling of his arms so muscular wrapped around you, and the slight oxygen deprivation always got you going. It was usually all of those factors individually. But to have them all happen simultaneously while he hugged you so tight, oh God, it got your blood boiling.

“You look so damn cute, too~” You whined in response, lifting a hand, your mouth covering it. “Say, if I bought you a cute little apron, would you wear it for me? Just the apron?” Another squeeze of his big arms had you moaning louder. “Oh, someone likes that idea, don’t they?”

When all you can do is whimper in response, Toji knows there’s more to your arousal than just the prospect of being his little housewife that has you squirming, how your breathing becomes more profound and shallow. It wasn’t just the idea of wearing an apron for him. It was because he had his arms wrapped around you; he pressed you back against his chest while he squeezed and released, constricting his arms around you.

“F-Fuck! Toji, oh God!” You rocked your hips back against his crotch, trying to release some of the building tension in your body. “Fuuuck~!”

Toji smirked, hugging you tighter. “What a kinky little girlfriend I have.” he ran his tongue over his top lip before hugging you even tighter as your body trembled. “Getting off from a hug~ good to know~!” Your boyfriend hugs you again. This time, you gripped the edge of the sink as you tried to warn him. But there was no way you were getting any words out from the pleasure that was rushing. “What ya’ gonna cum~? You’re shaking like you do right before you cum in my mouth.” You somehow managed to nod your head.

“G-Gonna~ gonna!”

“Go on then~ make a mess~”

With one final squeeze, your cummed with a shuttering gasp as your body shook and twitched against him. Your legs clamped tight together as Toji held you as tight as he could against him. His breathing was as ragged as yours as he took in your post-orgasmic appearance. Heavy breathing, flush cheeks, the way sweat beaded at your forehead from the intensity of the pleasure. Seeing you in such a state had him going feral.

“Fuck!” Toji picks you up, pressing you against the refrigerator, your skirt up, tugging your underwear. “We got about l thirty minutes before Meg’s gets home. In those next thirty minutes, I’m gonna make sure to hug you nice and tight, and in exchange, you make sure to hug my cock just tight with your pussy.” He growled into your ear; it was so raw and full of need that you took your bottom lip between your teeth and giggled. You might enjoy being his living girlfriend, but he was just as smitten with you as you were with him.

Forever Tag List:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks

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cherry-leclerc · 7 months

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the red high heels ☆ cs55

genre: humor, secret relationship, leclerc!twins

word count: 1.9k

It's 2am and Charles is desperate to find you. Who better to help look for you than his teammate?

req... guys, i literally wrote different versions of this request at least 5 times...anyways, hope you enjoy a quick one :)

Groaning, Carlos stands up from his bed, making his way to the door. It’s 2 am and he was far too comfortable until he was rudely interrupted. Opening the door, he sees a despaired Charles, dark under eyes evident. “Charles? Are you okay, man?” His voice is raw and croaky almost. His teammate shakes his head, then nods.

“Fuck, it’s just that…my sister. Mate, I don’t know where she is.” Hearing this, the Spaniard narrows his eyes, all of a sudden awake.

“What do you mean you don’t know?”

“Well, I checked her room, I called her and nothing. We’re supposed to be leaving for the airport in an hour!”

Carlos stays still for a moment. “Okay, I’ll help you look for her, she can’t be too far out. She’s not like that.” The Monegasque nods slowly before beginning to slump his way into the room. Carlos sprints after him.

“Oh! Um…How about you wait outside? It’s just that the room is so messy.” Turning his gaze, he points to the spotless room. Charles frowns.

“Carlos, this has got to be the cleanest room I’ve ever seen in my entire life.” He scrunches his nose before waving his hands in his teammates direction. “Hurry and put on a shirt so we can leave.” With tight lips, he nods. He’s slow about it too, the way he makes his way to his suitcase. Opening it, it’s empty. He slightly curses himself for being too much of a neat freak that he just had to organize his clothes into the small closet. “Some girl kept your shirt?” Charles' smile is teasing as he sends over a playful wink. Carlos winces.

“Of course not! Just have to…” He points over to the closet that is on the other side of the room. He pats his face. “You know what? I think I’m going to put my shoes on first! I’ll be quick, if you want we can meet outside.”

“It’s no big deal. I can wait. I mean you are helping me after all.” The brown eyed man wants to yell when a kind smile tugs at Charles’ lips. Get out, get out, get outttt.

“Of course.” Leaning down to grab his Golden Goose under the bed he takes a deep breath. His heart is beating so fast, he thinks it might leap out of his chest. Charles is talking, but all is unclear as Carlos reaches down. He quickly relaxes when he finds his shoes. He lets out a shaky breath.

“Oh no. Is your age getting the best out of you?” Charles snickers as Carlos grunts before sitting beside him, slipping on his shoes ever so slowly. Charles is growing impatient, he could tell. This was good.

“So, um, where do you think she is?” Carlos questions as he unties his other shoe. Charles hums.

“You know what? I have a feeling she’s not that far…Twin telepathy.” The broody man rolls his eyes as Charles shares a thoughtful glance. He laughs. “Call it what you want, but that shit exists.”

“I bet.”

The green eyed boy furrows his brows at Carlos’ clumsy fingers playing with his laces. He desperately huffs. “Do you need help or something?”

“Almost got it…” The white strings become undone for what seems the millionth time before he finally gets the grips of it. Bravo, Charles mutters.

“Coming back to what you were saying, what do you mean by twin telepathy?” Carlos stands up making his way to his empty suitcase again but Charles doesn’t even seem to notice as he becomes entertained by his bracelets.

“Oh, well, it’s real. I feel like she can’t be that far. How else do you think I would win at tag when we were younger?” He raises an eyebrow over his teammate. He continues with a now moody face. “Though, something else tells me she’s with someone, y’know?” Carlos chokes as he turns to face Charles. I don’t, he squeaks out. “It’s just that I’ve had this feeling that she might be seeing someone from the grid. I told her not to and she said she would never, but I don’t know why I could never really believe her. Plus, she’s oddly been attached to her phone a tad bit too much.”

Just then Carlos’ phone rings. They both shoot their eyes to the bright light that shines in the middle of the messy bed sheets. Reaching out, Charles grabs it before handing it over. You should probably answer. Hastily, he takes it.

Get. Him. Out.

He coughs as he slips his phone into his back pocket. “Hey, why don’t you start looking for her without me? I swear I’ll be out in a minute.”

“I don’t know where else to look, I’ve tried everywhere! Just hurry so we can brainstorm ideas. I swear to God when I find her-” A light thud echoes the small room as he cocks his head to the side in attentiveness. He raises his hand to his ear. “Did you hear that?”

The Spaniard immediately goes to rub his elbow. “I just hit my arm, that’s all.”

“Be careful, mate.” He stands up. “Okay grab your shirt.”

“Mierda. I can’t find it.” But that's a lie because just a couple of feet behind Charles, it lies. Right next to a pair of red heels. Charles' eyes roam the room with a slightly annoyed expression before spotting it. Picking it up, he pauses. When he turns around he wears a toothy grin.

“Oh shit! You have a girl over! That’s why you went all shy!” He picks up the heel. “That’s crazy. Looks just like my sisters. Girls just have the same taste these days…”

Carlos quickly grabs the shirt from him before snatching the heel back too. “I-I didn’t–I mean I did, but she left! She must have forgotten her sh–” The words tumble past his lips so fast that he doesn’t notice how Charles’ expression has dropped.

The red high heel could have been anyones, true, but not everyone had your initials at the bottom. He knows since he was the one who had gifted them to you as a birthday present. You had begged for months.

“Hope you shut up now that you have them,” he says as you smile down at the designer heels. You nod happily.

“I promise I’ll take care of them, Charlie! So sweet, I mean, you even added a nice detail!”

He’s fuming, but he’s also confused. “You motherfucker–”

“It’s just a shoe, mate!” Carlos' voice cracks in nervousness as his teammate strolls his way over. The Monegasque quickly grabs Carlos’ collared shirt as he pushes him against the closet. His body thuds as he groans.

“Where’s my sister?” His harsh glare doesn’t equal his tone and that scares Carlos just a tiny…lot.

“I don’t know! Let’s go look for her!” He tries to pry Charles’ hands off, but this only makes him push him back against the wood, harder. He cringes.

“Stop lying.” When Carlos looks down and doesn’t respond, he doesn’t think twice as he starts to bang his body against the brown doors. It shakes so much that the closet starts to get slightly unbalanced. And then…

It tips over.

Reacting quickly, Charles swiftly pulls Carlos away as they both fall onto the floor. The closet falls with a loud thud as they both gasp. But Carlos is quick to try to lift it up. “Calm down, it’s just a closet-”

“Fuck you, your sister is inside!”

Charles’ eyes go wide as he runs over to help his teammate. Finally, once it’s stood up correctly, they open the doors in a hurry. You moan as you rub your head.

“You both are so fucking innsufferable.” Your eyes are screwed shut when you reach your arm out for help. Your boyfriend is about to help you but your brother beats him to it. He leads you to the bed as you curl into a ball. “Oh God, I think I have a concussion.”

“We should take her to the hospital,” Carlos says as Charles bites down onto his nails. He agrees. They care, of course they do, but they’re not smooth about it.

“You grab her head and I’ll grab her legs.” Charles instructs as Carlos nods.

“No!” You sit up straight as you crawl further away from them. “I’m fine.”

“Amor, you should get checked out-”

“I don’t like that nickname. Stop it.” Charles mutters as he crosses his arms. You ignore him.

“Seriously, I’m fine. All your clothes saved me.” He lets out a sarcastic laugh as you giggle. Charles can’t help but glare at both of you.

“Okay, since you’re feeling well, then we should leave. Now.”

“No.”

His gaze sharpens as you cuddle your legs to your chest. “Stop being a brat. Let’s go.” He reaches out for you but you only kick his arms away. I’ll leave with Carlos, you bicker back. “Just shut up. Let’s. Go.” He reaches out to grab your legs as he starts to drag you towards him, but you’re kicking and screaming so loud that he lets go to cover his ears. He almost loses it when you run over to Carlos as you hug him like your favorite teddy bear.

“You can go. I want to leave with Carlos.”

He clicks his tongue as he places his hands on his hips. He taps his shoe. “Listen, say goodbye or whatever you want, but you are not going anywhere with him.” You shake your head. Carlos sighs as he places a kiss to the top of your head.

“I think he’s right.”

I don’t need your help controlling my sister, Charles wants to warn him but he doesn’t when he notices you deflate, furthermore. “No, I want to stay with you. I can deal with him later.” The Spaniard unties your hands from his waist before he leans down to place a kiss on your cheek.

“No, you should listen to your brother.” You know he isn’t breaking up with you, but perhaps a bang to the head has you slightly sensitive. Tears slowly fill up your eyes.

“Do you not want me anymore?” Your voice is small and he wants to punch himself for causing so much confusion. He’s about to say, you know I always do, but decides not to answer when he looks up at Charles, who stands by quietly.

“I…”

Charles awkwardly clears his throat as he twists his heel. You muster up the dirtiest stare possible as you say, “What do you want now?” He winces at your tone as he exhales in defeat.

“You can stay.” You narrow your eyes as you let out a wobbly smile. Are you serious? He nods as Carlos smiles at him in thankfulness. “But we spoke about this so many times, didn’t we? I always warned you that relationships like this take lots of taking care of, that's the main reason why I was always so against it, never because I didn’t want to see you happy.” His eyes flicker to Carlos, who’s attention remains on you.

“I know that, but I don’t care. I’m willing to learn.”

“I know you are. And you.” He points sharply at the Spaniard. “I can’t believe you went behind my back! That’s my sister!” Calm down, you plead. “You know what, we’re twins, so I hope you think of me when you kiss her-”

The room goes silent as you stare back with wide eyes. Once a single giggle is let out, a string only follows as you hurl over laughing. “That’s so wrong!” Charles blushes.

“Forget I said anything, just…Be careful and treat her right.”

Carlos bobs his head as he hugs you from behind and you lean into his touch with a glow Charles has never seen on you.

“I swear to God I will always do that.”

#carlos sainz drabble #f1 #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz one shot #carlos sainz smut #carlos sainz fanfic #carlos sainz imagine

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