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#I didn't mean to make him so petit
golden-cherry · 5 months
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deal - cl16 (19/?)
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader
Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.
Chapter Summary: There's so much going on in Charles' brain, but having to come clean with his feelings is the hardest.
Warnings: 18+ (mentions of fingering, masturbating), angst, swear words, Lando being a little shit
Word Count: 3.4k
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A/N: sorry. and happy season finale. let’s hope for a better 2024.
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Charles has never been so happy about a pot of plants. 
After you slammed the door in his face, he barely made it to the street before throwing up in the nearest plant pot. His fingers clawed around the hard ceramic edges as his body struggled against the nasty words he spat at you. 
He doesn't even know why he was so mean to you. 
Was it because you had a wonderful evening last night? Because you two got so close that you both almost kissed? Because you fell asleep next to each other and he slept incredibly well? Or because Lando texted him in the middle of the night and asked what your favorite food was so that he could do everything right on your date?
Maybe he does know why he was so mean to you. 
"Charles? Concentrate, please," he is snapped out of his thoughts and Charles sits up a little straighter in his chair. He can feel something crack in his spine.
The meeting has been going on for hours. So long, in fact, that the private chefs in Maranello have already had to bring food to the room four times, with the last meal being dinner. Charles has eaten so much pasta and bruschetta that he feels sick just looking at the leftovers on the table in front of him. And the water with the slice of lemon in the glass in front of him no longer tastes very refreshing.
No matter what he eats or drinks, he can't get rid of the disgusting taste in his mouth. 
He wonders if your "I hate you" is as heavy on your stomach as the nasty words are on his. He would love to take back everything he spat in your face. Turn back time and undo everything. But he can't do that. Unfortunately. 
He'd love to bang his head on the tabletop. 
In fact, he can barely remember what he said. It's as if his brain short circuited, has had some kind of blackout, or as if a bomb has gone off and wiped everything out. Which doesn't excuse any of it. But from your hurt look, the tears in your eyes and your venomous response, it was so unacceptable that he'd like to slap himself for it. 
It wasn't the first time Lando had asked Charles for dating help and they are actually such good friends that Charles has always been happy to help him. But the fact that the Brit asked for help so that he could take you out nicely - that doesn't sit right with him. Which is complete nonsense, because he has no reason to. He has no claim of ownership over you. And besides, he didn't want to kiss you in the bookstore. 
Although that's not entirely true either.
He did want to kiss you. Desperately. And you'd been so close all day, you'd shown him your favorite place and everything had pointed to you wanting to make the move to something more - and then you gave him that look when he asked you for a dance. And he can understand why you didn't want to. After all, it's your place, your favorite place, and never would Charles do anything to tarnish that place in any way. Create a memory that you would later regret. 
The Petit Mondes is your safe haven. And as much as Charles wants you - and he definitely does - he wouldn't cross that line.
Since you've known each other, Charles has had to fight every waking - and to be honest, every sleeping - moment not to jump you. He can't stop thinking about you standing in front of him half-naked in a towel. Or how you turned around just a few steps away from him before dinner with his friends to show him your outfit. How you slept next to him and dreamt - dreamt of him. A moment he will never forget. 
Although he is actually a late riser, Charles woke up early that morning. Not because he had slept in, but because he was warm. Contrary to his expectations, it wasn't because of the comforter or the heating, but because you were lying half on top of him. Your head was resting against his shirt-clad chest, one of your legs was draped over his hip, while your arm was wrapped around his middle. 
At first, he didn't understand what was going on at all. He wanted to lift his arm to rub the sleep from his eyes, but he was met with resistance in the form of a lightly clad, sleeping beauty. His arm was wrapped around your waist, his hand was a little too high on your ribs to pass for being friendly, and by God - he hadn't felt this comfortable in ages.
Feeling your closeness had triggered something in him that confused him, but at the same time made him incredibly relaxed. He had pulled you closer to him, pressed you against him and enjoyed your warmth. For a moment, he had even considered whether he should just pull you all over him so that he could be as close to you as possible. 
Before he could think about how wrong that would be and how many boundaries he would be crossing, you had turned in his arms so that your back was against his chest. Your body molded perfectly against his, your warmth engulfing him, but nothing could have prepared him for the fact that you were going to move your butt a little in his direction, right up against his crotch. 
Charles had been awake in a flash and while you continued to sleep soundly, all the blood from his brain had rushed to his dick. Embarrassed, he'd squinted and focused on something else - Ferrari strategies, Joris last Christmas with the Leclercs, anything - and had scooted back a few inches to stick his hand down his pants so he could fix his raging boner.
But alas, you'd followed him like a magnet, squirming against him like you knew exactly what you were doing, so that his cock was wedged between your ass cheeks. Your body had been so warm, so soft against his hard one, that he had to stifle a moan.
Something you hadn't been able to do. If you hadn't been so close to him, he would have missed your soft gasp of his name. That's when he blew a fuse.
He would have loved to wake you up with kisses along your neck, let his fingers wander slowly over your skin until they finally disappeared into your panties. He would have let them glide through your folds and collect your wetness before gently rubbing your bundle of nerves. You would have turned to him and moaned into his mouth as he slid one of his fingers into your tight walls.
He'd never escaped his bedroom so quickly and quietly and jumped into the freezing cold shower.
The water felt like fine pinpricks as it splashed down on his burning hot skin, but no matter how cold he turned it on - his cock stood angry and proud. He put his head back in despair, his brain vehemently refusing to see his friend in this light, to desire you like this. But before he could do anything about it, his fingers had wrapped themselves around his aching cock. His imagination ran away with him, too many images popped up in his mind's eye as he squeezed it twice in the hope of relieving some tension. But the only thing it triggered was the feeling of a moment ago, when his cock was against your ass. 
He was almost ashamed of how quickly he came. 
He just hoped you didn't notice when he came back into the bedroom and woke you up with it. He had thought about lying back next to you, but had decided on the foot of the bed to create some distance. 
The fact that you were dreaming about him threw him off course. And he'd really wanted to kiss you - by God, he'd wanted to do even kinkier things to you - but the timing never seemed right. 
And then Lando's message came.
The vibration in his pocket brings him back to the present. Charles takes a quick look around to make sure he's not the center of the conversation, then glances at his phone. 
Lando: You need to come home now.
He looks at the screen, confused. Why the hell is Lando texting him? Lando of all people? Did you tell him all the things Charles threw at you? How badly he treated you? 
Charles: I'm in Maranello. 
If you really did confide in Lando, his answer sounds pathetic. Why else would Lando text him? His friend certainly knows that Charles screwed up. And also that you want to move out of the apartment. But does the Brit really believe that Charles could change your mind when he's the reason you're moving out?
Lando's answer comes immediately.
Lando: I don't care. Get your ass over here. 
The Monegasque turns on the keypad lock on his cell phone and places it on the table in front of him. It wouldn't make any difference if he went home now and tried to change your mind. What could happen is that his presence would only strengthen your decision to move out. Besides, he doesn't know how he's ever going to face you again. 
Before he can think about it, his cell phone starts ringing. The eyes of his co-workers land on him and he apologizes with a quiet "mi dispiace" before leaving the meeting, phone in hand. Out in the corridor, he doesn't even need to look at the screen to know who is calling. 
"If you don't go back to Monaco immediately, I'll come to Italy myself to get you," Lando snaps at him and Charles has to hold the receiver away from his ear to stop his eardrums from bursting.
"Hi, Lando."
"Don't give me 'Hi, Lando'. Get your fucking ass over here."
Charles rubs his forehead before running his whole hand over his face. "I can't just leave here."
"Don't talk shit like that. We both know you're not up for the meeting," the Brit replies bitchily. "Don't act like you don't have a choice."
The Monegasque rolls his eyes. "What do you want to hear from me now, Lando?"
The answer comes like a shot from a gun. "I want to know what you've been up to! Are you completely stupid?"
Charles would like to know the answer too.
"You go home right now, explain your shitty behaviour and apologize."
"And you're interfering because...?" His tone is cold. 
"Because I was in your apartment all evening and had to watch how devastated Y/N was. I'd love to kill you for it."
"Go ahead and do it. She sure as hell wouldn't mind."
He swears he hears Lando take a deep breath on the other end of the line. 
"I'm going to tell you this once. Just once, Charles. And I'm saying this for her sake, because I still have hope that you're the person I was praising to her."
Praising? If you've told Lando everything, then you've certainly told Charles everything about the Brit. That he just wants to get you into bed. So why would Lando want to help him?
"What you did was absolute bullshit, Charles. Totally below the belt and you've never acted as fucking shit as you just did."
Charles rolls his eyes. "Is there anything positive coming?"
"Shut up, you idiot. I don't know what you've done in the few days you've known each other to make her so crazy about you, but I don't have to. Any blind man can see there's something between you. Something good. So go home now and save what can be saved before she really decides to leave the country."
Charles, who had just been leaning against the wall, stands up straight. "The country? I thought she just wanted to move out."
"She's been thinking about it, asshole. United States, Australia. Something really far away from you."
"But she has her job here, at that one magazine. There's no way she'd leave like that."
"She got fired, motherfucker. Before you made your weird deal. Nothing's keeping her here anymore. So get your ass over here now before she really decides to take off."
How could Charles be so blind? He knows the magazine, his mom reads it occasionally and he actually knows that a new issue comes out every week. You've known each other for five days - five days that you've spent entirely with him. Something that would definitely not be possible with such a full-time job. 
"And what do you want from me now? That I drop everything to go home even though she doesn't want to see me?"
"I've never seen anyone as stupid as you."
"Can you stop with the insults?" Charles snaps through the phone. 
"You have nothing to say to me, you arsehole. She told me what you said about me. You owe it to us to go off and try to make things right." 
Charles can't help but laugh. "Us? So you two are already an us?" He doesn't know why he's talking to one of his closest friends like this. Especially when the latter only wants to help put things right that Charles has messed up. The Monegasque has no reason to be angry. But the disgusting taste in his mouth, which he hasn't been able to get rid of for hours, is not anger. Unfortunately, he only realizes it now.
He's fucking jealous. And he can't do anything about it.
"We're friends, but apparently you don't know what the word stands for," Lando replies snippily. "Go home, explain to her why you behaved so badly and apologize to her." His voice softens, warmer than it has been throughout the phone call. "Charles, I know you're being careful because you're afraid of getting hurt again. And I can understand that, I really can." He takes a deep breath. "But it's Y/N we're talking about here. Sit down and talk to each other, be honest, and then it'll all work out."
Charles' gaze wanders to the huge Ferrari logo hanging on the wall next to him and his bad guilt returns. You don't even know who he is. To you, he's Charles, the roommate who shows you beautiful places, introduces you to his friends and with whom you share a bed. You are the only person who knows him as Charles and not as Charles Leclerc.
What would you think of him if the cat was out of the bag? When you see who he really is, including the spotlight? What happens if you like Charles, but not Charles Leclerc? He doesn't know if he could handle it. His job is his life, he's on the road all year round and what little time he has he has to divide between friends and family. 
That's why his relationship with Annika failed. She was right about what she threw at him. That you always have to wait for him and that it's not fair. And she knew what she was getting into from the start. But you don't. You would be thrown in at the deep end if you decided to go for it. If you chose him.
"I don't think it's that easy," Charles says quietly, and he has to suppress the tremor in his voice. "She - she doesn't deserve this life. This risk. She - she," he takes a deep breath and has to wipe away the tear running down his cheek. "She's too good for me. She deserves someone great."
"How strange," Lando replies. "That's exactly what she says about you. So get in the car and apologize. I'm sure you'll be able to sort it out. And if you say shit like that about me again, I'll drive you into the wall in Bahrain next year."
Charles curls his mouth into a thin smile. "I'm truly sorry, Lando. And thank you for everything."
"I'm just absolutely the best." Charles can almost hear his grin before the Brit hangs up.
When the Monegasque re-enters the meeting room, all eyes are on him. With deliberate steps, he walks to his chair and grabs his jacket before looking at his team boss. "I'm going home."
His boss crosses his arms in front of his chest. "You can't just leave like that, Charles. We need to talk about next season and everything that's gone wrong this year."
"I can tell you exactly what happened," the brunette replies as he zips up his jacket. "The strategies this year were all for the trash, you screwed me over and you cost me the title." He grabs his wallet and car keys from the table in front of him. "Make sure things go better next year. After all, it doesn't get any shittier than this. See you next year. Have a good holiday."
He knows that his Ferrari can drive fast. And he also knows that he shouldn't drive that fast. But the roads home are empty and he wants to get to you as quickly as possible, in the hope that you haven't left the apartment yet. The accelerator pedal is almost stuck to the floor and he would certainly have to pay a heavy fine if the police caught him speeding. But apparently luck is on his side and it takes him just over three hours to turn onto the streets of Monaco.
The closer he gets to your apartment, the faster his heart beats and he can feel himself starting to sweat. What's the best way to start the apology?
I'm sorry I was so shitty to you, but it was because -
I behaved like crap, but it was only because - 
I'm sorry I was such a bad friend, but you should have - 
Wow. It actually all sounds like shit. 
Maybe Lando is right. Maybe the most reasonable thing would be for Charles to just be honest, even if it means destroying everything between you. But you deserve the truth.
I'm sorry I said those bad things to you and I'm sorry I hurt you. Of course, apologizing can't undo any of it, but if you gave me the chance, I could explain myself to you. I was jealous because we had such a nice evening and then I find out you planned a date with one of my friends. I wanted to kiss you in the bookstore, I've wanted you ever since we met. You've been messing with my head from the beginning, taking over my heart and I can't think straight when you're with me. Maybe it's crazy because we've only known each other for five days, but I've never felt about someone the way I feel about you. I'm in lo-
His train of thought stops abruptly as he turns into the street. A green Nissan is parked on the sidewalk in front of your apartment, the driver's door is open and the hazard lights illuminate the walls of the house. 
Charles worriedly parks at the next opportunity before jumping out of the car and dashing to the front door, which is wide open. He can already hear angry voices from outside, a male voice that almost shouts the whole house awake. 
And your voice, angry and rough and shaky, as if you were at the end of your tether. 
Charles sprints up the few steps to your apartment and stops like a flash on the top step when he sees you. You're wearing your pyjamas, your hair is disheveled, as if you've run your hand through it several times, and when you see him, you snap your eyes open as if you've seen a ghost. 
But it's not the sight of you that makes Charles' blood boil. 
It's Raphael's, who follows your gaze and takes a step back when he realizes who he's facing. "Your roommate is Charles Leclerc?"
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Hey girl I was the anon that requested Herve being a mommas boy while reader recently gave birth and it was sooo sooo adorable. You killed ittt
Would you be okay with writing a story part 2 blurb to it where maybe Herve still is being stubborn and Charles explains it to him and then he comes and apologises to his mama🥹🥹🥹
Note: thank you 💗 I'm happy you liked it!
"Hervé, can I come in? I need to talk to you", Charles said as he walked inside your son's bedroom after he nodded, "Is this about what I did?", Hervé mumbled.
"Yes, it is. That can't happen anymore, just because something didn't go your way and mama wasn't there for you at that moment it doesn't mean that you get to behave like that", Charles stated, "if there is something troubling you, you can talk to me".
Hervé stayed silent for a bit before he spoke up, "mama is always with Amélie, and when she isn't with her she's tired and can't play with me or when she plays, she's really slow", he explained his feelings, "and I miss having mama for myself", he nudged his foot on the floor.
"Mon petit, that's what happens when we have a baby - it happened when you were born too", Charles said, sitting next to him on his bed, "when you wete born, mama was tired because she was the one feeding you and you woke up a few times during the night, and then her body was healing as well - from what she tells me, some days it still hurts even if it hasn't hurt for a few days, and it's not something she can control.
"And now she has Amélie, and Amélie is little, so she needs help with everything - changing diapers, feeding, burping, changing clothes, baths, everything! And we boys have to protect Amélie and mama and make sure they're happy and healthy, so sometimes we have to be patient and understanding", he finished.
"Okay", Hervé sighed, "she still loves me, right?", he mused, "Of course she does, we both do, buddy", Charles ruffled his wavy hair.
"I should go apologise to mama", Hervé said before getting up and heading to meet you in the living room, seeing his sister asleep in the cot you kept downstairs.
"Hey, Hervé", you smiled at seeing him in a better mood than before, "mama, I want to apologise to you, I'm sorry for saying those things and for screaming", he said, approaching you.
Straightening your back and hissing at the pressure from your sensitive boobs, you held your arms out for him to cuddle, "apology accepted, amour, come here", you pulled him closer, "Amélie needs a lot of my help - and she's always on my boobs, right?", you playfully rolled your eyes, getting him and Charles to giggle, "so there will be times where I can't do everything with you, but I'll try to be better, okay?", you promised me.
"You're already the best, mama, I'm sorry I did those things, I love you and Amélie and papa", he said into your neck, fist grasping the fabric of your shirt, "Thank you, amour, I know you do", you smiled, kissing his cheek and waving at Charles to join the cuddle.
(Thank you for sending this in ✨️)
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blitzyn · 2 months
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prospect
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toji fushiguro x m!reader
request: none
a/n -> sighs and explodes i need this man injected in my blood right NOW. nobody will be able to convince me that this man doesn’t have a breeding kink. sometimes i forget im writing for real people on a real platform and it jump scares me when people comment on my work. but in a good way ofc i love seeing people’s thoughts on my stuff. ANYWAYS. REQS.
wc -> 4.7k words of filth LMAO
cw -> anal fingering, anal sex, spit as lube, throat fucking, using “pussy” and “cunt” as a synonym, mild impact play, breeding kink, mirror sex, finger hooking, bondage, begging, brief gun play, when i say “little” i mean that in a condescending sorta way and not bc the reader is described to be petite and tiny, not beta read obv
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"You're a tricky one, I'll give you that," is the first thing the man before you said. It'd been quite a while since the first time the two of you met in a dingy bar hidden in the sketchier parts of town. He hadn't been trying to kill you then - he was but a fellow patron eager to ruin his liver. Originally, he had a strange gut feeling about you. Like a pretty thing like you wasn't all it seemed, but he shrugged it off after a well-placed look from you offering to buy a couple more rounds.
So when he's given another job, the first thing he does is laugh. He didn't really mean it at first, but really, the irony was hilarious. The guy he nearly got to fuck was his current target: [Name] [L.Name], a rising Jujutsu Sorcerer. He obviously wasn't as strong as the esteemed Gojo Satoru or Geto Suguru, but he was advancing a little faster than many would've liked.
"Thanks. I tried," you replied, seeming much too relaxed for a man about to be assassinated. You were currently stuck on the floor with your arms tied behind your back and your legs bound together by plain, old, ordinary rope. You were a little embarrassed, truthfully, to have been caught by such a mundane trap like this.
You struggled against your restraints a bit, sighing in defeat when you only served to remind yourself just how stuck you were. "These are pretty secure," you started, giving the man before you a laidback smirk. "You experienced?"
Toji gave you a quizzical look for a moment before breaking out in an amused grin, resting his handgun against his shoulder. He definitely wasn't expecting his target to start flirting with him instead of pleading for his life like he was used to. But he'll entertain you for a while. "You could say that."
You huffed through your nose, your eyes lazily flitting around the room. You were making your way back inside the abandoned building you chose to hide in when you suddenly found yourself tied up. It took you a moment to realize you couldn't move when he appeared in front of you, but even less to recognize him as the man you almost got to sleep with. "I would've loved to have you tie me up back then, but this wasn't really what I was thinking about."
"Your phone's a real cockblock, huh?" He chuckled lightly, in an almost mocking manner from what you managed to detect in his voice. "Can't even begin to imagine how long you've had to go without gettin' laid."
You rolled your eyes like he wasn't only there to kill you and get his money. "Don't get me started. There's always something new I have to kill every fuckin' second. My boss thinks it's great training to go out whenever I can."
Right. Technically, you weren't a fully-fledged Sorcerer. You had more of a vigilante-esque vibe to you. You hadn't attended either Jujutsu High School in Tokyo or Kyoto as well, only taught by your family and experiences. Not that that really mattered anyway. You fought, you got strong, and now someone put a hit on you.
You sighed, shifting your body to a more comfortable position before tilting your head back against the wall. “This is the part where I beg for my life, right?” You questioned rhetorically, with an almost bored expression on your face before your eyes lit up with an idea. “I’m not too good at that, but I am good at begging for something else.”
Toji raised an eyebrow in intrigue, unable to fight off the grin at the obvious implication. He didn’t stop you from shamelessly checking him out, but he cut your ogle session short regardless.
“Yeah? Care to elaborate?” He made his way closer, crouching in front of you to get a better view of your face. He knew what you were asking for. He just wanted to know if you’d follow through with it.
Maybe it was the adrenaline making you bold, knowing that he could easily kill you with the pull of a trigger—or maybe it was just because he was really fucking hot. With a quick, obvious glance to his crotch (you could see the imprint of his dick through his sweatpants), you spoke clearly. “I want you to fuck me.”
He liked how forward you were, how unafraid you were to say what you wanted. He swiped his tongue over his lips and nearly laughed at how your eyes darted downwards to watch it. “You call that beggin’?” He taunted, raising his arm to press the tip of his gun against your chin to tilt your head up. “Do it right.”
A shudder ran through your body at his demand, leaving a trail of heat that settled right into your groin. You felt hyper aware of everything—of the cool metal on your skin, of the faint gunpowder scent emanating from the barrel, of your heartbeat thrumming so hard you briefly wondered if he could hear it.
“Oh, please, Mr. Fushiguro,” you whined, staring up at him through your lashes pleadingly. You tried to squeeze your thighs together as you squirmed, attempting to provide your hardening dick friction. “Please fuck me. I’ve been thinking about this whole time. I need it so much.”
“Well, aren’t you a confident little thing,” he remarked with a thoughtful hum, carefully inspecting your reactions. “But what makes you think I won’t just kill you and get my money?”
“Because you haven’t yet,” you replied with a smug undertone in your voice, like you figured him all out. Although, when he dragged his gun up towards your lips, a brief wave of fear washed down your body, settling deep in your chest.
“Really? That’s all you’re going off of?” He tilted his head, watching you through the dark curtain of hair that fell over his piercing eyes. “That’s cute.” He held his finger over the trigger, teasingly flexing it before relaxing just as fast. He found it funny how your confident facade slipped away the moment you remembered that you weren’t talking to a casual friend—that the Sorcerer Killer himself was staring you down the barrel of his gun. But, apparently, that’s what got you all hot and bothered.
“I didn’t think you’d be this desperate.” His scarred lips curled upwards in a predatory grin as he nudged the tip of his gun against your mouth, prying it open. You fought the urge to squirm when he pushed it further, jaw straining, but you tried your best to comply. “You seemed all mysterious ‘n’ unassuming back at the bar. What happened to that? Got me feelin’ like I got the wrong person with the way you’re actin’.”
You tried to shake your head while a garbled noise left your throat, but he kept you firmly in place as he pushed it as far as he could go. Even as you squinted, it was hard not to practically eyefuck him where you sat. Your watery irises trailed over the length of his arm, tracing the bulging veins that patterned over his forearm, dipping back underneath his skin before reappearing in his thick bicep. His shirt did little to hide his chest, squeezing in just the right places to render any woman jealous.
You couldn’t stop your gaze from wandering down, down towards his legs, zeroing in on the dick print he so obviously flaunted like a trophy. Your mouth watered, suddenly finding it hard to swallow. You slid your tongue over the rough metal, imagining that it was his cock stretching your eager throat wide open; imagining the salty taste of his precum, of the scent of his musk, of—
“My eyes’re up here, pretty boy,” he interrupted, pressing the gun up against your palate to snap you out of your stupor and avert your gaze. “If you’re gonna deny bein’ a slut, at least act like it.”
He pulled it out of your drooling mouth, wiping the string of saliva off on your cheek before setting it on the floor with a dull thud. Your face was messy, chest heaving up and down as you panted, expectantly waiting for him to continue like a lost puppy.
“You’re so damn easy,” he commented teasingly, reaching down to palm his cock through his pants. It throbbed under his touch, leaking precum and straining against the fabric. “If I’da known all it took for you to get all nice ‘n’ compliant f’me was a dick down your throat, I’d have my money by now.” There was a hint of honesty to his voice that you couldn’t even find in yourself to protest.
“Please…” you breathlessly whined, trying to writhe out of your binds, but it was tied too tightly around your body to free yourself. “I want it. Stop messing with me.”
“I know.” He reached down to shift you onto your knees, steadying you with a firm hand on the back of your neck. You watched him slide his free hand under his pants to pull his thick cock out, eyes fixated on the leaking tip. He wrapped it around the shaft and leisurely jerked himself off, the wet sounds of his precum sliding along the shaft mixing in with your labored breaths and his quiet groans.
Finally, after what felt like decades, he shuffled forward just enough to press himself against your lips, finding little need to nudge his way inside when you so eagerly parted them for him. You let out a pleased noise at the taste of his precum, beginning to squint and fight the urge to gag when he refused to stop until your nose was buried in his pubes. He held you there for a moment, enjoying the sight of your throat bulging to accommodate his cock.
“You’re takin’ me in so easily,” he purred, sighing in satisfaction at the feeling of your tongue tracing over a prominent vein, making him twitch in your mouth. “Is this what you do? Use your body to live a little longer? 'Cause I gotta say, whatever you're doin' is really payin' off."
You visibly preened at his praise, feeling your dick strain against the fabric of your pants. He let you move at your own pace, watching you hollow your cheeks and slide and bob your head up and down. He was thick and long and made your jaw ache in the best way, utterly infatuated with his scent, with his taste, with the way he let you go at your own pace—but you knew better. You knew that he could easily take that control away from you and fuck your face.
You kind of wished he did, honestly.
With a bit of effort, you pulled away from his cock, breathing heavily. Your voice was shaky but it was firm, determined to get what you wanted. “Fuck my throat,” you demanded, staring up at him through your lashes. He gave you an intrigued smile, clearly pleased with your eagerness to be used like a toy.
“You sure? ‘Cause I’m not stoppin’ til I cum,” he warned. He hardly gave you enough time to reply before he held the base of his cock, gently tapping the tip against your slick lips to get you to open up wide again, obviously unconcerned with your response. “But if you really insist, then who am I to say no to a pretty thing like you?”
He adjusted his stance, towering over you with both his hands atop your head. He allowed you to take a deep breath before pulling you to him just as he shoved his cock back down your throat. You were still unused to him, nearly choking at the sudden movement, feeling tears pool along your lashes. You could’ve sworn his musk was an actual aphrodisiac. It was all you could smell, filling up your nostrils to render your mind a pathetically fuzzy mess.
“Thaaaat’s it,” he drawled out, staring you down with enough heat in his eyes to practically glue you to the floor. You weren’t even sure if you’d get up and leave if he gave you the chance to. Probably not, frankly. Not with the way his strong hands so easily kept you in place, nor with how he strained your jaw—infatuated with every inch and vein and his salty precum. “Take it all, baby.”
He chuckled to himself, not bothering to hide the condescension in his voice. “But I didn’t need to tell you that, huh? Is this muscle memory takin’ over?” Despite his words, his brows were furrowed, focused on thrusting his hips, stoking the rising fire in his abdomen. His rhythmic groans were music to your ears, mixing in with your wet gags and the faint sound of his balls slapping your chin.
“Fuck,” he panted, taking one hand off to wipe your hair off of your forehead and get a look at your watery, unfocused eyes. It sent a heat down his spine that made his cock jolt at the sight of your blissed out face. “You’re so damn tight… gonna make me cum.”
“Is that what you want?” He grunted, digging his fingertips into your skin. “Y’think it’s what you deserve?” For a moment, you were worried he was going to stop. But he didn’t really, instead he kept you still, holding you at a distance to make sure you didn’t accidentally pass out. “I wanna hear you beg for it.”
You blinked your tears away and looked up at him, squinting, confused when he hadn’t let you go yet. It took you a second to piece together what he wanted of you, and felt the burn of embarrassment trickle down your spine and settle into your chest when you did. He wanted you to beg with his cock in your mouth. You were quiet, unsure how to respond without choking and coughing into next week.
“C’mon,” he persisted, his scarred lips lifting in a grin. “I know a little slut like you can do it.”
With a deep breath, you attempted to get your words out through muffled sounds that very vaguely sounded like sentences. It was humiliating—letting him use you to entertain himself like this, but it was an exhilarating feeling that made your cock twitch and throb, aching to be touched.
“Sorry, what was that?” He questioned mockingly, expression laced with faux concern. “Do you mind repeating that?”
You paused, staring up at him pleadingly, but when that didn’t seem to work, you tried again. Drool seeped out the corners of your lips, trailing down your chin. It was hard to breathe and form coherent thoughts. Your cock throbbed and ached to be touched, finding your pants to be uncomfortably suffocating.
“Was that so hard?” He questioned rhetorically as he tugged your face close again, savoring the feeling of your throat squeezing around his dick before beginning to fuck it. He groaned when he felt you run your tongue over the veins, the vibrations of your voice sending heat through his body that he eagerly chased.
He swore under his breath, panting, focused on the tightening coil in his abdomen. “Shit—I’m about to—fuck—cum.”
You moaned when you felt him still, pressing your face into his pelvis to make sure every drop of his cum went down your throat. It was difficult to swallow, letting your eyes flutter shut until he was finished. Your vision was a bit blurry when he finally decided to pull away, leaving you gasping and panting.
“I want—I need you to fuck me,” you slurred, desire flashing brightly in your eyes. Your voice was raw and hoarse and raspy, but there was no hiding your desperation. “Please. I need it so bad it fucking hurts. Please, Fushiguro.”
“I just got done cumming down your throat and you’re already askin’ for more?” He chuckled condescendingly, reaching out to swipe the pad of his thumb along your chin to gather the mix of saliva cum. He brought it to your lips, watching you wrap them around his finger and suck the fluids off his skin. “You needy whore. You’re lucky I’m not in any rush right now.”
With a swift hand, he untied the rope holding your legs together to lead you to a different spot, confident that you wouldn’t make a break for it. Not that you could nor wanted to, anyways.
The mirror before you was dusty and cracked, but it still served its purpose well. He kicked your legs apart and brought you back down to your knees, lowering himself behind you with a firm grip on the back of your neck. You nearly came on the spot when he squeezed your aching cock, hips jerking needily, but he let go in the blink of an eye to unzip your pants and bring them down far enough to expose your ass. He brought two fingers to your lips and dipped them inside your mouth with his other hand, coating them with your saliva rather haphazardly.
He swiftly brought them back down, running them over your balls and perineum teasingly, grinning at your sharp intake of breath. He slid the pads of them over your hole, just barely pushing them through to feel the resistance give way before pulling them back out.
“I swear to god, I’ll—“ you tried to threaten, only to be cut off by a whorish moan that Toji managed to tear from your lips when he shoved his fingers inside you. They pressed against your prostate, firm and unrelenting, rubbing it just the slightest bit to keep you reeling. The sudden stretch fucking burned as you clamped down on him like a vice, wincing and groaning.
“You’ll what?” He urged, eyes fixated on your face, watching every single muscle twitch, noticing the way your cock spurt a fresh stream of precum down the throbbing shaft. “C’mon, don’t get all shy on me now. What were you saying?”
He thrust his fingers in and out slowly, emphasizing the wet squelching sounds of your asshole. You could feel his breaths brushing against your heated skin, sending shivers up and down your spine that ended in your fingertips. Your knees ached and your arms were growing numb from being tied back for so long but you figured you could ignore it for a little while longer if it meant you’d get what you wanted. His dick, namely.
“I’ll—agh, fuck—I’ll…” you trailed off, hardly able to form a coherent sentence with the way he massaged your prostate so perfectly. “Just… just shut up,” you muttered finally, breathless and unfocused as you stared at the spot you connected from the reflection in the old mirror. A subtle feeling of embarrassment settled in your heaving chest when you heard the raspy sound of his chuckle.
“Is that it?” He taunted, locking eyes with you. His free hand slid upwards, teasing your nipples through your shirt to watch you squirm. “I thought you’d put up more of a fight. I’m startin’ to question whether or not you’re really some hotshot Sorcerer.”
It was hard to refute him when you looked the way you did—all messy and disheveled and desperate, hard for the man supposed to kill you. You were completely unlike yourself hardly half an hour ago, but you barely gave a shit. How could you when the hottest man you’ve ever seen was behind you, fingerfucking your eager hole? Chances like these don’t come often to you, that’s for sure.
You shivered and moaned, leaning back against his chest. Your hips practically moved on their own accord, thighs flexing to keep yourself upright as you tried to fuck yourself on his thick digits. Toji could see the way your eyes unfocused and glossed over with understimulated tears, frustrated and horribly pent-up.
He gave your prostate a quick jab, firm enough to intensify the heated coil in your belly, but too fast to savor. He wasn’t planning on giving in to you so easily as he avoided your sensitive spot, instead moving his fingers in a scissoring motion to stretch you out.
“God—stop doing that,” you pleaded. You felt like an open book, unable to stop yourself from furrowing your eyebrows in annoyance or conceal the painstakingly obvious glint of hunger in your pupil-blown irises.
“Quit whinin’ and maybe I’ll consider it,” he murmured gruffly, enraptured by the way you writhed and squirmed and looked just downright pathetic. You both knew he wouldn’t, not when all the others he’s fucked couldn’t hold a candle to your pliant little body. You knew why he was there in the first place, but still, you remained there on your knees even when he untied them.
You nearly let out a sob when he curled his fingers again, offering you the barest of touches to your prostate that sent liquid fire coursing through your veins.
“Fuck, please,” you begged, yet again. You didn’t know much of this you could take or how long it’d be until he caved. God, was it so much to ask for a man to fuck you stupid?!
“I want your cock inside me so bad, fucking me fast ‘n’ hard ‘n’ deep,” you slurred, hardly able to maintain even the barest shred of dignity. You looked into his deep, green eyes through the mirror’s reflection, hoping he’d relent.
“Yeah? Y’want me in this slutty pussy?” He purred, sliding his slick fingers out of your twitching hole to give it a sharp slap. You jolted just as a spurt of precum slid down your hard cock, leaking onto your clothed, heaving abdomen. He chuckled breathlessly as he leisurely rubbed your puffy rim with the pad of a finger. “You should’ve just said so.”
He wiped his fingers off on the back of your shirt, offering you an oblivious shrug when you glared at him through the mirror. Your knees ached when he had you lean forward a little, placing your more of your weight on the poor joints as he reached down to quickly jerk himself off before tapping the tip of his dick on your asshole one, two, three quick times.
It felt like he was splitting you apart when he finally decided to push through after spitting on your hole, groaning at the way you squeezed around him tighter than a damn virgin. It hurt like a bitch. Of course it did—you made him rush and he was using less than ideal lube, but, God, you’d be lying if you said that it didn’t feel so fucking good.
You watched him lean back a little and hold you by the ropes binding your arms together, rolling his hips experimentally, only to grind his cockhead into your prostate so deliciously you saw stars. A searing heat enveloped your body, blinding you with white that took you far too long to come down from. Opening your eyes (you didn’t even realize you closed them), you instantly spotted your twitching cock drooling cum onto the floor. Fuck. He didn’t even start and you came.
“That was so damn fast.” He couldn’t be bothered to stop the hint of a laugh from leaving his throat. With his free hand, he reached down and gave your throbbing dick a squeeze, stroking it with a tight grip to milk out the rest of your cum.
You shuddered and trembled, biting your lip to stifle your moans. He let go to stuff two of his slick fingers in your mouth, careless with how deep he forced them in. Not that you really minded as you swirled your tongue around his skin, readily cleaning it off. You locked eyes, keeping your expression firm in a weak attempt to regain even a sliver of composure when he suddenly moved, giving you a quick, harsh thrust that nearly knocked the air out of your lungs.
He shifted his fingers, curling them as they pulled on your cheek, tugging at the flesh until he forces your mouth wide open. You couldn’t stop your tongue from lolling out, jaw slack as you drooled and whined and cried every time he rammed his thick cock into your eager fuckhole. He was relentless—pounding into you fast and hard and deep, just like you begged for so prettily.
“Fuuuck,” he groaned, digging his fingertips into the flesh of your hip hard enough to leave bruises, arms flexing to yank you back as soon as he pulled out. “Your pussy’s so damn tight,” he panted, brows furrowed in focus, relishing in the sound of his hips slapping your ass and your whorish moans. “M’gonna make sure your messy little cunt remembers my cock by the time I’m finished with you.”
“Uh-huh, mhm,” you nodded, hands itching to grab onto his biceps, his back, something to ground yourself while he churned your insides to mush. It was nigh impossible to think or breathe or speak, but it felt so fucking good.
“Awh, look at yourself,” he cooed, his voice slightly jumpy as he let go of your mouth to roughly pat your cheek, forcing you out of your stupor to make you stare at your reflection. “Are you out of it already? Should I stop?” He questioned, his raspy voice laced with faux concern.
“No! N-No,” you stammered, finding it difficult to comprehend what he was saying until moments later, alerted by the word “stop”. “Don’t stop! Ohh, oh god, please don’t stop!”
You’re so, so sensitive and so full, and you can feel him losing his rhythm. His cock is heavy in your stomach and you swear through your addled brain it’s weighing you down as a trail of precum connects your heated bodies together, frothing between your thighs and his balls.
“Fuckin’ hell,” he grunted, gritting his teeth. He could feel the burning coil in his abdomen intensify with each passing second, and suddenly he’s speeding up, pistoning into you with loud and sloppy thrusts. His green eyes are locked on your swollen and puffy hole sucking him in with a vice grip, watching his cock slide in and out, in and out, over and over again until you’re cumming hard, shaking and convulsing.
“That’s it,” he growls, the sound low and deep. It went straight into your stomach, sparks lighting up under your skin as your hips jerk, unsure whether you want to endure the building overstimulation or move away. “M’gonna cum so deep inside your pretty little pussy I’ll knock you up,” he murmured in your ear, dragging a canine down your neck to clamp his teeth down on the flesh. “Y’want that? To be my breeding bitch?”
You sobbed, unable to answer, but he didn’t need one. Not when your body spoke for you.
He fucked the air out of your lungs one, two, three more times, feeling his balls tighten until he finally came, spilling his cum so deep inside you, you were sure it’d stay there for weeks. You moaned, savoring the warmth that spread through your body with each spurt of his cum that coated your velvety insides, trying to catch your breath before you had to move.
Toji sighed in satisfaction, pulling out after a few moments. He watched your fucked-out hole clench around nothing as it leaked with his seed, spreading one of your asscheeks to get a better view before giving it a final pat.
You didn’t realize he cut the ropes holding your arms behind your back until you nearly fell face-first onto the floor, catching yourself with your numb hands.
“Ow… fuck,” you cursed at the sharp stinging sensation that ran up your arms, shaking them uselessly in an attempt to restore the blood flow faster.
“You were better than I thought you’d be,” he hummed, getting up to fix his clothes. He grabbed his handgun from off the ground, holding it against his shoulder as he stared you down. “But you have three days. Make ‘em count.”
You weren’t oblivious to know that he was giving you a three-day recovery period before he began hunting you again. Even then, you couldn’t stop the shiver of excitement from running through your spine at the prospect of seeing him again.
You grinned, breathless and shaky but confident nonetheless. It was unlikely he’d fuck you once he found you, but a man could dream. "I will."
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cross-posted on ao3
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mypoisonedvine · 2 years
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𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘸𝘭 | steve harrington & eddie munson x reader
summary | steve and eddie are hunting through the forest at night looking for you... but don't worry, they promise they're not gonna hurt you. (based on an anonymous request I got for predator/prey and size kink with dark!steddie that was supposed to just be a drabble... oops.)
word count | 3.7k
warnings | dark (cnc aka noncon!!), smut (oral m and f receiving, creampie, pearl necklace, rough sex, outdoor sex, threesome, spitroast), hunting and predator/prey kink, size kink (meaning the reader is implied to be petite once or twice), degradation, humiliation, forced orgasms, aftercare, roleplay
18+ only, dark themes, read the warnings!
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"Come out, bunny," Steve cooed as he shined his flashlight through the trees.  "What are you hiding for?"
"She's just a little scared," Eddie explained, calling out into the woods as he continued, "aren't you, babydoll?  It's okay, we don't bite."
"Speak for yourself," Steve laughed, and Eddie shoved him on the shoulder. 
You shifted against the ground you were sitting on, trying to keep your leg from falling asleep, but froze when you heard a twig snap under you.  "Ohh, d'you hear that?" Eddie purred. 
"Yeah," Steve breathed, "is that you, bunny?  We just wanna talk, okay?"
You covered your mouth when you felt the tree behind you shake.  "This isn't gonna take too long, is it?" Eddie groaned to Steve.  He was casually leaning on the tree you were hiding behind; of course he was.  You shut your eyes and tried not to breathe.
"Just keep looking, okay?" Steve replied.  "It's gonna be worth it."
"Well, I knew that," Eddie purred, "been waiting too long to get a taste of that little pussy... what are you gonna do to her, when we find her?"
"I want her mouth first," Steve answered confidently, "you know the ones that act like they don't want it get so wet when they get a taste of some cock."
Eddie chuckled in agreement.
"How about you?"
"Oh god, I dunno— where to start, right?" Eddie laughed.  "All I know is where to finish: those tits."
"Now, don't get me wrong," Steve countered, "I like the way you think but... man, I've been waiting to come inside her for weeks.  She's gonna try to get me to pull out, though, so you've gotta help me keep her still."
"Didn't think you needed help holding down a little girl, Harrington," Eddie mocked.
"Trust me," Steve warned him, "she's tiny, but she's tough.  Not that she'll give us much trouble— just as long as we work together."
"Right," Eddie decided.  "Oh, by the way, I almost forgot..."
There was a moment of silence, and you wrinkled your eyebrows together as you hoped to listen in closer.  Why would they have just stopped talking so suddenly?
You leaned a little closer to the other side of the tree— maybe they were whispering or something— but all you heard was the slightest rustling of leaves.  You dared a glance over your shoulder: your heart stopped when you saw Eddie's face right there, smiling wide at you as he crouched on the ground.
"Boo."
You jumped up as fast as you could, breaking into a sprint; they didn't start after you right away, they were letting you get ahead on purpose, you knew that-- because if he wanted to, Eddie could've just grabbed your ankle right as you got up and you would've been done for.
That was the worst part of it: they were so sure they would get you in the end that they were letting you tire yourself out just for fun.  You should just be thankful for the sliver of a chance... but instead, you were terrified of how much worse they were going to make it for you, as punishment for not just surrendering in the beginning.
You ran like you’d never run before, the adrenaline coursing through you keeping the soreness in your legs from bothering you too much; you dodged trees and branches, hoping to be light enough on your feet to dodge the twisted roots coming out from the dirt.  Your sneakers were struggling to keep traction on the damp ground— it had just rained this afternoon, even now it was still a little foggy from the moisture in the air— but you managed to stay upright even when you almost slipped a few times.
You knew they were gaining on you because you could hear them laughing.  One more reminder that this was just a game for them— but it was all but life or death for you.
Steve caught up with you first, but he didn’t grab you; instead, he shoved you down, knocking you into the dirt, where you crawled pathetically until he grabbed you by the ankles.
“No!” you yelped.
“Shh, not gonna be so bad,” Steve promised as he turned you over— Eddie was standing just over his shoulder, and he bent over to rest his hands on his knees as he panted from the run.  “We just wanna talk, right?”
“Right,” Eddie agreed.
“Get up,” Steve snarled at you as he grabbed your hand and yanked you onto your feet; you yelped, struggling to find your balance, and he held your arms behind your back as Eddie stalked around you in a half-circle, like he wanted to see you from every angle.
"Oh no, little babydoll got dirty, huh?" Eddie laughed, noticing how the dirt and mud clung to your dress.  “Let's get you out of these filthy clothes, sweetheart…”
Steve kept you from struggling too much as Eddie roughly tore your clothes off, his tongue poking out from between his lips as he forced the fabric to rip.  You mumbled, “No, please… don’t…” as he ripped your bra away, but he ignored you— and he snapped through your panties in a second.
“There we go,” he purred as you hung your head low, his eyes and hands exploring your naked body hungrily.  “So sick of you hiding from us, babydoll— hiding in this dark forest, hiding those cute tits— and your pussy, it’s wet, isn’t it?”
Steve kicked your legs apart, and Eddie reached between them.  You tried to wiggle away, but Eddie smacked you across the face.
“Stop moving,” he warned harshly, ringed fingers groping around your pussy until he felt your soaked folds.  He looked at Steve, who looked back at him, and smiled.  “Oh, Harrington, she’s soaked…”
“Knew it,” Steve laughed.
“You caught her— you go first,” Eddie offered.
“Aww, thanks man!” Steve declared, before turning you around and shoving you down onto your knees.  “You know how to do this, don’t you?” he asked gruffly as he started to unbuckle his belt right in front of your face.  “I feel any teeth, I’ll fuckin’ knock them out, okay?  So be good.”
You winced as Steve pulled his erection out of his boxers, trying to turn away— but a hand on your head stopped you.  You only knew it was Eddie’s because you could feel his rings against your scalp.
“Open your mouth,” Steve ordered.  You did nothing; Eddie put his other hand on your chin, pulling your mouth open as you groaned in pain.  Steve slipped his cock inside, running it over your tongue with a groan before he plunged a little deeper.  “Fuck, c’mon, suck on it,” Steve encouraged.
Reluctant, but low on options, you closed your lips and hollowed your cheeks.
“Hah, figured you knew how to do this,” Steve breathed, tilting his head back.  “You act so innocent, but you love this, don’t you?  Slut.”
Steve’s hand smacked your cheek, and you whined around him.  “Think she can take it a little deeper?” Eddie asked him from behind you, and you saw him nod.  Eddie bent down slightly to speak closer to your ear.  “What do you say, babydoll, wanna choke on Stevie’s dick?”
You shook your head, but as soon as you did, Eddie pushed your head down to force Steve’s cock right into your throat.  You struggled and fought for air, pushing on Steve’s thighs desperately, but it was no use.
“Fuck,” Steve groaned, “fuck, don’t let her up yet.”
“Not yet,” Eddie agreed, “just a few more seconds…”
It felt like ages, but he did let you go; you pulled back with a gasp and a sputter, coughing vigorously as Steve and Eddie laughed at you.  You yelped as Eddie pulled you up onto your feet suddenly, his hand on the back of your head again to force you to bend at the hips.
“You can keep going,” he told you, like it was an offer and not an order.  “I’m just gonna fuck you while you suck on Stevie’s cock, babydoll.”
You opened your mouth to try to convince him not to, but Steve filled it again before anything could come out; you mumbled uselessly around him, his hands gripping either side of your head to hold you steady as he groaned.  “Such a sweet little mouth,” Steve sighed, “just like I imagined it.  How’s her pussy feel, Munson?”
“About to find out,” Eddie replied, rubbing his fat head between your other lips.  “Wanna bet she’s tight?”
“Oh, I know she is,” Steve insisted; and with a rough push, Eddie filled your hole.  It made you moan around Steve’s cock, which made him moan, too.
“Fuck, we were right,” Eddie breathed, “so fuckin’ tight.  Nice and warm, too— just been waitin’ for this dick, haven’t you, babydoll?”
You couldn’t say much, feeling horribly full and a little dizzy and totally used up.  They both fucked you relentlessly, neither offering much patience or mercy, or even sympathy for the fact that you were already being fucked so hard by someone else.
“Oh my god, she keeps getting more wet,” Eddie laughed, reaching around your hips to slide his fingers over the drips of arousal running down your thighs.  Steve pulled your head off of his cock, and you panted with an open mouth as he pushed you down lower.
“Lick my balls,” he demanded, and you grimaced a little but stuck your tongue out further.  He moved your head how he wanted it, rocking his hips against your face a bit; his cock, slick from your spit, rubbed against your face and got you all slimy.  “Fuck, that’s good…”
“Dirty bitch,” Eddie laughed, smacking you on the ass— a whine jumped out of your wide-open mouth.
“What?” Steve wondered.
“She clenched on me,” Eddie noticed.  “You like licking Harrington’s balls, babydoll?”
“Fuck, that is nasty,” Steve chuckled, looking down at you.  “You’re really a filthy fucking slut, huh?  Why don’t you just admit it?”
He tugged on your hair, keeping your face still so he could give it a few more smacks.  “Just say it, baby,” Eddie encouraged as well.
“I-I’m a…” you swallowed thickly, shutting your eyes so you could force the words out, “I’m a f-filthy fucking slut.”
Steve held his cock, smacking you lightly on the face with it— when he pressed his balls up to your chin, the tip reached your forehead.  “Look how big it is compared to her,” Steve told Eddie with a wide grin.
“Fuck, she’s so little,” Eddie cooed.
“Or I’m so big!” Steve defended.
“I mean, both,” Eddie offered.
“Thanks,” Steve rolled his eyes.
“Tell him his cock is big, sweetheart,” Eddie instructed you— and his hand slid up your thigh to pinch your clit.  You whined loudly, trying to press your thighs together, and he laughed.  “Tell him, baby, and look at him while you say it.”
You looked up at Steve, who had his eyebrows raised expectantly when he met your gaze.  “You, um… you have a big cock, Steve.”
“See?  Told you,” Eddie sing-songed.
“And how does Eddie’s cock feel, huh, bunny?” Steve asked you in return.
“I-it hurts,” you whined.
“Y’know, I was trying to get her to say it felt good,” Steve told Eddie, “but that might be more of a compliment.”
“Yeah, she can bitch about it all she wants,” Eddie chuckled, “I know she likes getting this pussy stretched out.  Don’t ya, little girl?”
Another hard pinch on your clit made you gasp: “F-fuck, fuck yes,” you sighed, “I like it…”
Eddie moaned lowly as he fucked you faster.  “You like it enough to come?”
You whined, but he started to rub your clit hard and fast; it made your legs shake, and you heard Steve laugh a bit.  “Is she close?” he asked Eddie.
“Yeah,” Eddie panted, “wanna cream for me, babydoll?  Go ahead and do it.”
“Think she’ll come faster if she’s sucking me again?” Steve wondered.
Eddie laughed; “Definitely.”
Steve pushed his cock back into your mouth, making you choke and gag again as the pressure on your clit nearly became too much to bear.  You hated that that actually worked, but it did— maybe the benefit was your orgasmic moans weren’t quite as embarrassingly loud, but Steve got a nice view of your eyes rolling back in your head.
“Fuck,” Eddie groaned, “good job, babydoll— coming nice and hard on my cock, feels so good…”
You were drooling all over both of them, in two different ways, and your hearing was a little fuzzy but you caught them both mocking you a bit for it.
“Gonna pull out and coat those tits soon,” he warned, “just like I said I would.  Did you get wet when you heard me say that, baby?”
You did, but obviously you didn’t say anything; you were too weak to hide your own moans now, and the hands in your hair and on your hips were the only thing holding you up now.
“Fuck, fuck, turn her around, Steve,” Eddie ordered; they both pulled out quickly and Steve grabbed your shoulders, forcing you to kneel and look up at Eddie.  He stepped up to you, one hand a silvery blur over his cock as he stroked himself, the other pushing your hair back and holding your head.  “Good girl, want this come all over your tits?”
Again, you didn’t need to answer, it was irrelevant anyways; a second later, he was groaning loudly as come shot out and landed in haphazard stripes across your chest.  Your nipples were getting harder, for no good reason, and Steve watched it all with a proud look on his face.  Eddie’s lip curled as he looked down at you, jerking his cock until every drop was on your tits; he sighed, and smiled.
Just as you were appreciating the brief moment of peace, Steve roughly yanked you up onto your feet and pressed himself up behind you.  “My turn,” he grunted as he suddenly and roughly filled you with his cock.
You whined and dropped your head limply, feeling Eddie’s spend starting to cool on your chest.  He had already put his cock back in his jeans, and was watching the scene before him with a grin.  “Be good for Stevie,” he cooed at you, holding your jaw in his hand and forcing you to look up at him.  “He wants to come inside you, nice and deep… last I heard.”
“Yep, still do,” Steve interjected, “wanna— ah, fuck— wanna fill this cunt.”
“No, please, please,” you whimpered.
“Take it all, sweetheart,” Eddie ordered you with a grin, “take all that fuckin’ come— and be grateful that Steve wants to give it all to you.  You should be fucking grateful.”
You whined through your teeth.
“You should thank me for coming on your tits,” he snarled.  “Say it, bitch.”
He smacked you across the face, and the words spit out of your mouth.  “Thank you!”
“Mm,” he hummed proudly, “such a good girl… obedient little slut.”
“I’m close,” Steve blurted out suddenly.
“She’s tight, right?” Eddie grinned up at him.  “Makes it hard to last.”
“F-fuck, yeah, it does,” Steve agreed breathlessly. 
“You don’t need to,” Eddie explained, “she’s just a fuckin’ toy.  Don’t need to make her come.”
“But I— I sorta wanted to feel it,” Steve admitted.
“Oh, yeah, it feels so good havin’ that pussy squeeze you,” Eddie agreed, “even better knowing she can’t help it.  Can you, little babydoll?” he giggled at you as he pinched one of your cheeks.  “Here… I’ll help you get her there, Harrington.”
Eddie reached between you legs again, pinching your sore bud just below where Steve was ruthlessly fucking into you.  You sobbed and shuddered, fighting the overwhelming sensation.  
“She’s already so close,” Eddie noticed with a purr, “damn Harrington, you’re good at this.”
“Th-thanks,” Steve grunted, “god, I can’t hold on much longer…”
“Come on Stevie’s cock,” Eddie ordered you, “mhm, just like that— give him a nice big squeeze, you dumb fucking whore.”
You came with a choked sob, insides tightening on Steve— who followed suit a split second later, groaning loudly and digging his fingers into the sensitive skin of your hips as he came.  “Fuck, fuck!” Steve moaned.
And that was when he dropped you, right into the dirt again, laying limp and helpless at Eddie’s feet.  They both stepped closer to you, crouching down beside where you were blinking up blankly at the starry night sky.  Eddie sat on the ground, lifting you up to rest your head on his lap; Steve pet your hair as you fluttered your eyes shut.
“Gimme a nod if you’re okay, princess, please?” Steve asked right away.  Your head was heavy from exhaustion, but you managed to nod, and he smiled down at you.  “Had me worried for a second there…”
“She’s tough, Harrington, give her some credit,” Eddie chuckled.  “You know she can handle a lot. And it was all her idea in the first place.”
“Yeah, true,” Steve nodded, brushing his hand over your face lightly.  “You did so good, babe, we’re both so proud of you!”
You smiled dreamily, squeezing Eddie’s hand.
“Wanna go home now, sweetheart?” Eddie asked quietly, and you nodded again.  “Okay, let’s get you all cleaned up…”
They cleaned you up alright… your back on Eddie’s chest in the bath, Steve in front of you, both of them helping wash you off— inside and out.
You whined a little as Eddie’s fingers slid over your sore cunt.  “Shh, just getting all’a Stevie’s come out,” he explained, “don’t get fussy.”
It hurt a little, but you could take it— and they had to get you clean.  You were a bit out of it still, but mostly coming back to reality, which is why you noticed Steve’s focused efforts lathering soap on your skin.  “S’it just me, or are my tits gonna be super clean after this?” you smirked.
“She’s onto you, Harrington,” Eddie laughed.
It was working, though— your nipples were hard and sensitive from the attention, and Eddie must have noticed how much you liked it since he could feel your hole clenching while he was trying to clean it up.
“You know I can hold my breath for three minutes, right?” Steve reminded you, and you laughed as you nodded.  “How long do you need?”
“Depends how good you are,” you challenged.
“Oh, don’t taunt his ego, princess,” Eddie cooed, “now he has to do it.”
“Yup,” Steve agreed, taking a big breath before dropping down under the water’s surface.
Eddie pulled his hands out of the water, resting them on the sides of the porcelain tub; you felt Steve’s mouth latch onto you a second later, and you gripped Eddie’s wrists tightly.  “Feels good?” Eddie assumed.
“Y-yeah,” you breathed.  Steve’s tongue danced up and down across your folds, and the texture felt different with the water than it normally did; not better, not worse, but definitely very different.
“Mm,” Eddie hummed as he moved his hands away from the edge of the tub, rubbing your shoulders gently instead.  “You like how Stevie eats your pussy, princess?”
“Fuck, fuck yeah,” you groaned, “he’s— fuck, he’s got his tongue inside me now.”
“Keep telling me about it,” Eddie requested, kissing down your neck.  Your back arched, and you felt Eddie’s cock rub up against your lower back.
“He’s… god, Eddie, he’s licking my clit,” you whimpered, “feels so good…”
“Yeah?  I know how sensitive your little bud is,” he cooed.  “You can tug his hair if you want him to go harder.”
“Shit, dunno if I can take it,” you admitted.
“Then I’ll do it,” Eddie grinned, reaching underwater and grabbing a tight hold of Steve’s floating locks.  It worked; you yelped as Steve wrapped his lips around your clit and suckled hard, your hips starting to shake.
“Oh, fuck!” you shouted, shutting your eyes tight.
“Not too much for you, is it?” Eddie grunted.  “You can take it, princess, I know how strong you are— I know you can let Stevie eat that needy little pussy as long as he wants…”
You tried to arch your back deeper, but Eddie used his other hand to hold your hips and keep them pressed forward by Steve’s face.  Another jerk on Steve’s hair made him put his tongue inside you again, deeper this time, licking over your g-spot as you whined.  “Steve!” you shouted out.
“Do you think he can hear you under there?” Eddie wondered.  “Let’s get you a little louder, just to make sure.”
Eddie sucked on your neck, the hand on your hips moving and groping your tits instead before pinching and toying with your nipples; you jerked wildly, Steve only managing to stay latched onto you when Eddie let go of his hair.  Steve’s hands held your thighs tight, not enough to keep you still but at least keep you mostly in one place.  “Steve!” you sobbed.  “St-stevie, fuck, m’gonna come!”
Eddie’s moan was muffled on your skin.
You came with a cry— you were burning up, you didn’t even notice that the water was getting cold.  You whined and sobbed and blabbered about how hard you were coming, about how good it felt, until the waves subsided and all your energy was gone.
You went limp against Eddie, and Steve reappeared with a grin as he pushed his wet hair back.  “Well, I think we finally wore her out,” Eddie noticed as he looked at you— half unconscious with your head draped on his shoulder.
“Wanna take her to bed?” Steve suggested.
“Always,” Eddie grinned.
“I mean to sleep,” Steve chuckled.
“Oh— yeah, I think it’s babydoll’s bedtime, hm?” Eddie teased lightly, holding your sides.
After they helped you dry off and get in your jammies, they pulled you into the covers, and even though you were almost completely out of your mind, you instinctively latched onto Steve and cuddled up close to him; he smiled and pet your head, just as Eddie slipped in behind you and wrapped you both up tight in his arms.
“Good job today, princess,” Eddie whispered as he kissed the top of your head.  “So good for us.”
“Sleep tight, okay?” Steve requested.  “‘Cause we’ve got so much more to do tomorrow.”
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thankskenpenders · 5 months
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Help me out here: Why is there so much Ian Flynn hate going around lately? I thought everyone loved that he was contributing to the games. Now suddenly they aren't. I guess that's par for the course for this series but I don't get it. He isn't perfect but I like what he's done. Am I a weirdo?
Ian Flynn has always had a lot of fans, but any creator putting their work out there is going to have detractors as well. That's just the nature of being an artist. To some extent, it's no big deal. He's not a perfect writer. Nobody is! I consider myself a fan of his work, but I've criticized plenty of individual writing decisions from him on here.
But Ian doesn't just have critics. He has his own obsessive hatedom. And the specific nature of Ian's hatedom is... interesting.
A decade ago, Ian was only the guy writing for Archie Sonic, meaning any debates over his work were quarantined within that tiny niche of the larger Sonic fandom. Only people who kept up with the comics month to month had any real reason to have an opinion on the guy, which means we're talking about merely thousands of fans as opposed to millions.
Within that group, he had some haters. You had the people who were mad about story changes made during his run, particularly things like ancillary characters getting killed off (although over the years we've learned that most of those were editorial mandates from Mike Pellerito). You had the people mad that Ian didn't push their favorite ship, with feuding SonAmy and Sonally fans claiming that he was CLEARLY biased towards one or the other. You had the people who just really, really liked one of the previous writers way more - usually Penders, as hard as that may be to believe today. That sort of thing. Pretty normal comic fandom type stuff. Again, it comes with the territory.
Unfortunately, many of those haters only got worse over time, morphing into reactionaries who constantly try to incite Comicsgate type culture war bullshit.
There are people still mad at Ian for making Sally bi and pairing her with Nicole instead of Sonic in the later Archie comics. There have been elaborate MS Paint red string conspiracy boards explaining how people like Ian and Jon Gray have apparently been destroying the franchise from the inside for years by Making Sonic Woke. (Jon gets dragged into this because people are still mad about him drawing The Slap 20 years later. Yes, really!!) There was an unhinged change.org petition trying to get Ian fired, specifically from people who were mad that the Freedom Fighters aren't in the IDW comics. There was even a very sad little fan campaign from these people trying to get Sega to move the Sonic comic license away from IDW and over to Udon, because they thought Udon would bring Sally and Bunnie back and also make them sexy again. There's a lot of this.
(Unfortunately, Penders has also exacerbated this by gossiping about Ian on Twitter and giving these fans ammo, but that's a whole 'nother discussion.)
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The thing is, for years, people who only played the games or watched the cartoons had no reason to pay attention to any of this. Now, though, Ian isn't just writing for some weird spinoff comics that only the super nerds read. Now he's writing comics that are canon to the games, and ALSO some of the games themselves, and ALSO consulting on other tie-in media like Sonic Prime, and ALSO writing the official Sonic encyclopedia, and ALSO serving as part of the new Sonic Lore Team at Sega. And on top of all this, he's got an increasingly popular podcast where he fields questions about his work on all of these things, which serves as one of the fandom's main windows into creative decisions being made behind the scenes.
As a fan of Ian's work, it's been really cool to see him rise in prominence. But the dark side of this is that his obsessive haters from the Archie days now have WAY more of a potential audience of their own. Now, every Sonic fan has to have an opinion on Ian. What this frequently means is that you'll have the Comicsgate types taking things Ian writes or says out of context, attempting to get more of the general fandom to yell at the guy.
Unfortunately, there are a wide variety of Sonic fans who take the bait:
You've got hardcore fans who disliked basically any recent piece of Sonic media and are looking for someone to blame.
You've got the people who are concerned about the sanctity of Sonic's canon, who shoot the messenger any time Ian mentions a new retcon from Sonic Team on the podcast - or any time he even mentions the THOUGHT of changing anything about the canon, as we saw recently with the Sol Dimension nonsense.
You've got people who romanticize some sort of mythical artistic vision that Sega of Japan supposedly has (or had) for the franchise. To many of these fans, American contributors like Ian just don't "get" the heart of the series and are trying to turn Sonic into something different. (This "heart of the series" tends to be some mix of Japanese instruction manual lore, the cinematics from Sonic CD, the OVA, and/or the games written by Shiro Maekawa, depending on what Sonic media the fan in question grew up with.)
You've got fans of specific characters or ships who pin the blame for how their faves are depicted entirely on Ian - most vocally fans of Shadow, even though the root problem is that Sonic Team hasn't known what to do with Shadow since 2006. At best this stops at regular old criticism, but at its worst this devolves into claims that Ian has an agenda against certain characters.
You've got fans annoyed by a perceived over-emphasis on comic-original characters in the IDW comics, ignoring the obvious facts that these characters exist because the game cast is so tightly controlled by Sega, and also, you know, that people just like the IDW characters and want more stories about them.
You've got a LOT of discourse over IDW's Sonic being a hero who tries to give his enemies second chances, as if half of Sonic's closest friends aren't already former villains and rivals. Honestly this is very transparently just reheated Steven Universe discourse lmao
You'll also see people who just think they could do Ian's job better. They can't believe that THIS GUY is the American fan working on all these Sonic projects, when clearly THEY understand the characters and lore and themes SO much better than this charlatan.
All it takes is for someone in one of these categories to be unhappy about some recent piece of Sonic media, and for them to come across an out of context quote or comic panel that rubs them the wrong way, and suddenly the leftist Zoomer Sonic fans will join the latest dogpile on Ian alongside the reactionary Comicsgate types who are mad at him for Making Sonic Woke.
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In general, when fandoms get upset, they tend to want a scapegoat. A person or two to point a finger at and go "THAT's who ruined the thing I love!" This tends to be based less on reality and more on which contributors are the most visible online. You'll sometimes see teenage and adult fans of children's cartoons single out a storyboarder who's particularly vocal on Twitter, blame them for every story decision they don't like, and harass them off the platform out of a sense of retribution for their favorite ship or whatever. Failing that, fans might choose to blame every nitpick, down to individual lines of dialogue and frames of animation, on a showrunner, just because that's the name they associate with the show. And unfortunately, when it comes to Sonic, Ian is now arguably the most prolific and outspoken contributor on the English speaking internet, and therefore a common scapegoat.
Some of the things I've seen Ian blamed for are truly wild. A lot of people have claimed for YEARS that he's just lying about the existence of creative guidelines and restrictions from Sega - or, as fans call them, The Mandates - even though they're just an inherent aspect of working on a licensed property. Others claim that The Mandates are real, but somehow Ian's fault. A vocal minority of fans have convinced themselves that Ian is the sole reason the Freedom Fighters don't exist in the IDW comics, even though Ian says he's been pushing to bring them back since day one.
Sometimes you'll see people say he ruined shit he didn't even work on. A few weeks ago on Twitter I saw someone claim that Ian had written a rejected script for Sonic Forces in which Tails died. I could not find a source for this for the life of me. As far as I can tell, the rumor seems to have been born from an alleged leaked script for Forces with margin notes from Aaron Webber that criticized the way Tails was written, and also an old tweet where Aaron joked that Tails would die in an upcoming episode of Sonic Mania Adventures. These merged into "Aaron Webber criticized a draft of the Forces script in which Tails died." How'd Ian get dragged into this? Who fucking knows!
It's all just a big game of telephone. All it takes is some asshole to make something up about Ian on Twitter or YouTube or a DeviantArt journal or some forum, and at least a couple people will believe it, and then it gets repeated as fact. Again, this used to be contained by the niche nature of the Archie Sonic fandom, but now there are WAY more people who are receptive to this shit.
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It's just sad to me that Ian tries to be so open and honest about his work, to try to explain the rationale for certain things, to keep fans looped in on the direction the franchise is headed, and this just gives the Flynnspiracy types more quotes to take out of context and try to paint him as the devil. If it sounds like I'm being overly defensive and dismissing his critics, man... some of the things I've seen people say directly to him are just unbelievable. People will send paragraphs-long angry screeds in to his podcast that completely tear him apart, and he has to sit there and be like "Well, that's your opinion, and you're entitled to it." People literally pay for special guest interview episodes where they just rapid fire complaints about his writing at him directly to his face. I don't know how he does it. I would snap.
All of this over Sonic the fucking Hedgehog of all things.
I don't know how to wrap this up. Engaging with fandoms online is very tiring, which is why I tend not to do it. Things like this are too common. I guess, just... remember that making art collaboratively is a complicated thing. The people involved are generally trying their best given the circumstances, but they're only human. They make mistakes. But please treat them like humans. Criticism and dogpiling are not the same thing.
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spacedace · 5 months
Text
Bit from a new dpxdc fic rattling around in my head I'm calling the Meddling Kids AU.
This snippet is so far removed from the context of the larger fic that I can't even imagine what yall are gonna think it's even about, which means it's perfect to throw out as a writing prompt for anyone that's interested haha
---
Well.
Good news: Jon had something that very publicly proved he couldn't be Superboy.
Bad news: his proof came in the form of getting his nose broken in front of the entire school cafeteria.
Weird news: tiny, waifish Danielle Masters - of all people - was the one who managed to actually break his nose when he'd stepped in to try to pull her off of Trip Hemmings.
She wasn't Kryptonian. Not unless Trip and his cronies were also secretly Kryptonians this whole time. She'd fucked them all up almost single-handedly when they'd tried to pull their usual shit with Fredrick Kern and she stepped in. But they were the ones that had started the whole messy fight when Trip decided to sucker punch the petite girl hard enough that the loud, ugly crunch of her broken nose had been heard even over the noise of the cafeteria, shoving her back into the cafeteria table and sending Fredrick's food flying.
She'd gotten slammed a couple more times during the scuffle, but she had given far more than she'd gotten and by the time Jon and Damian and managed to make their way through the crowd of students that had rapidly swarmed the scene of the fight, Trip's two goons were laying on the ground, conscious but groaning in pain and decidedly taken out of the fight.
Jon had surged forward through the crush of the gathered students towards where Danielle and Trip were. The latter sprawled across the table with Danielle on top of him, bleeding and bruised and feral looking with her bared teeth and wild eyes as she wailed down punch after punch on Trip's face. The fight was well and truly over at that point, Danielle clearly the victor, and teachers were on their way. Without even thinking about it Jon had reached out and touched her arm, intending to pull her off the little shit she was rightly wailing on before she could get in even more trouble for being involved with a fight.
It hadn’t been the wisest course of action. Danielle had been so keyed up she hadn't even realized it was him or absorbed anything he'd said, and assuming it was someone looking to hurt her turned one of her swings onto him. He'd had the spit second thought of how he was going to avoid the hit without looking like he had powers when her fist had collided with his face at a speed he hadn’t expected and sent him sprawling to the ground. It wasn't until he felt something hot dripping down his face that he realized she'd actually broken his nose and the pain flooded in.
So.
Danielle Masters was strong enough to break his nose. And still hadn’t managed to hurt anyone else - including fragile, normal humans - past some bad bruised and busted noses. She'd likely hit him as hard as she had out of blind reaction and not true intention to do real harm.
That was a thing.
A weird thing with some big implications.
D had checked, and Danielle Masters wasn't registered as a meta. Which didn't mean she wasn't one or that there was even anything nefarious going on. The uber-rich elite tended to cover things like that up, fine with meta rights and metas running around so long as it wasn't one of their own.
But it was still something.
She was strong enough to break Jon's nose. The number of entities in the world able to do that wasn't a very long list. The fact that a random girl at his school was capable of that was...not necessarily anything to be worried about. But the thing was that Danielle Masters was already someone he and D had been keeping an eye on as being...a little bit beyond the normal kind of weird. And that wasn't even getting into her dad's shady business or the potential connection between her and the weird spike in suicides.
“Here,” He blinked, pulled out of his thoughts at once to find the girl taking up all of them had shifted in her chair over to him to hold out an actual handkerchief to him. “Sorry about…” She motioned with her other hand towards his bloody face, wincing a little as she did. “You didn’t deserve that.”
He took the offered piece of fabric - oddly formal and old fashioned for anyone, let alone a girl like Danielle Masters - as the peace offering it was and offered her an awkward smile. “It was my fault for coming at you from behind,” He said, trying not to be too amused by the fact that they both sounded muffled and ridiculous with their busted noses. “I should have known better after you got jumped like that.”
Danielle shrugged, shifting back into the uncomfortable chairs they’d been parked in outside the dean’s office. The teachers on site were going over the situation with him as they had seen it, and from what Jon could hear were reviewing the CCTV footage from the cafeteria cameras. Trip’s family wasn’t prestigious or wealthy enough for the faculty to put aside their ethics and take his side, so their honest thoughts about the bully getting what he deserved - however annoying it was that they were going to have to deal with it all - shared freely from the perceived privacy of the office. Elle would still get punished for going as far as she did, but at least it wouldn’t be as bad as it could be for her.
“Assholes will be assholes.” She said, toying with the tie of her uniform. She’d ripped it off just as the fight had started, in a brief moment between kicking Trip back into his goons and them recovering enough to jump at her again. She had wrapped it around the knuckles of her dominant hand in a fast loop, giving her a little more protection before she then drove her padded fist right into the gut of Jordan Stone. She had followed it up by grabbing Jordan’s own tie and using it to get enough leverage on him to send him flying into Erin Dorner.
It was the kind of quick-thinking adjustment that Jon associated with D. Removing a potential liability, making it an advantage, latching on to any and all weakness in the opposition and using it against them. He wasn’t an expert in hand-to-hand combat the way Damian was - he could hold his own and knew how to fight with his fists as well as his powers, but there was a big difference between his skill and D’s - but he knew enough to be able to tell that Danielle wasn’t formerly trained. She was fast and quick and clever, but everything she did spoke of scrabbling street fighting brawls and learning from painful experience.
Something else to add to the seemingly endless list of things that were weird about Danielle Masters.
Because why would the daughter of one of the richest men in the country know how to scrap like a street fighter? Most rich kids didn’t really know how to fight at all, or if they did it was self-defense lessons taught by the best martial artists in the world. Maybe it was because of her meta powers? A fear of it getting out if she was taught to fight and ended up destroying a training dummy right with a single hit? But then how did she know to fight at all?
He teased Damian for going all Bernard Dowd on him for the oversized corkboard with all the notes and pictures and red thread, but Jon got it. Every new insight into the enigma that was Danielle Masters only ever led to a thousand more questions. A mystery only ever made murkier the more was known, instead of less.
Danielle - Elle, she’d told him to call her, a little fierce, even as her eyes were sad - hadn’t been afraid during the fight with Trip and his cronies.
Or if she had, her heart rate had never indicated it. It had risen during the fight sure, but it had been the steady quickening of a body exercising. No jackrabbit quickness, just an even increase in rate to account for her quick movements and hard hits. She hadn’t even really broken a sweat. She’d been steady the entire time, from the first sucker punch she’d taken to the face to the last she’d thrown herself at Jon.
She was scared now.
Dr. Penelope Spektor stood over the girl, usual bright, smiling face set in an unreadable mask as she stared down at Elle. Beneath the lighting of the waiting room outside the Dean’s office in her smart red suit and her glasses pushed up atop her head to rest against her bright red hair she looked almost like the devil. Jon wasn’t sure why that thought came to him. The school counselor had only ever been kind to him during the few times they’d spoken about his scholarship at Gotham Academy and his options for colleges. Maybe it was the intensity of her green eyes, the way they almost seemed to glow as they bore into Elle.
Maybe it was the way that Elle’s heartbeat had ticked up and started hammering in her chest the moment Dr. Spektor’s sharp heels were heard clicking down the hall towards them. The way she shrunk into herself as the woman moved to stand before her, above her, not saying a word. The way Elle looked like she wanted to fling herself from the chair and run as far and fast away from the woman as she could.
“I didn’t start-“ Elle’s voice was reedy, unsteady with fear and anxiety.
“Silence.”
Jon felt cold.
Elle snapped her mouth shut with a painful, jarring clack. Fast enough and hard enough to be painful. He thought he could hear one of her back molars crack from the force. He definitely heard her heart rate pick up even faster in her chest. So quick he was afraid it might just give out on her entirely. He saw the faint tremble of her hands as she wrapped them around herself, fingers digging into the fabric of her blazer with a kind of desperate hold as she clung to her own arms.
“I’ve called to inform your father of this incident.” There was a slithering, dark disgust in the words. A viciousness lacing through her icy tone. “Three days suspension. You will be spending that time with me.”
Elle looked like she might be sick at that, face draining of all color a the judgement the counselor had just given. She didn’t try to speak, to respond, just gave a stiff nod and bowed her head. Her eyes were wide as she stared down at the floor, too much white exposed. Blood dripped down from her nose again, the thundering of her pulse breaking through the clotting and making bright red drip down her face.
Dr. Spektor’s gaze slid over to where Jon sat, frozen in place by the strange scene before him. In a blink her face smoothed out, back into the pleasant, welcoming smile she always wore whenever speaking to a student. “Oh my, Mr. Kent I had heard you got injured while trying to break that horrible ruckus up earlier.” She tisked lightly, and Elle flinched a little at the sound. “I’m so sorry about that, Danielle has a bad habit of getting into trouble and I hate to see that she’s gotten you involved in her mess this time.”
Jon, for reasons he couldn’t comprehend, felt oddly at ease at her words. As strange as the feeling of being frozen in place that had overtaken him as he watched the tense scene between the school counselor and Elle. A slow, honey-thick feeling of calm, laced through with understanding and acceptance.
“It’s okay.” He said, throat feeling tight around the words. It wasn’t alright, he wanted to get to his feet, to put himself between Elle and Spektor. Wanted to drag the girl away somewhere safe and try and make her feel better, try and figure out just what was going on and why she was so afraid of the red-headed woman.
It was alright, though. He could feel it, settling into his chest, relaxing his shoulders, soothing away the tense anxiety. It was a little odd, but he just didn’t have the context of it all probably. Nothing to worry about, nothing to think about.
Elle was still hunched over, shoulder’s tight, eyes now squeazed tight. Her grip on her arms like a vice, squeezing with enough force she had to be bruising beneath the layers of her school uniform. Her heart rate a roaring drum in her chest, heart slamming painfully against the cage of her ribs, afraid, terrified.
“The fight wasn’t her fault Dr. Spektor.” He said, the words feeling like burning tar against his tongue, even though he knew the truth of them. “Trip and the other two attacked her first when she was trying to get them to leave the person they were bullying alone. She was just defending herself.”
Dr. Spektor’s lips twitched, just a little. Her expression held on her normal warm smile but something curled at the edges of her smile, the corners of her bright green eyes. Dark and deep, sharp as shattered glass and viciously, sickeningly pleased. She pulled her glasses off her head and set them back in place on her nose and the glimpse of that hungry thing beneath was gone.
Never there at all. A trick of the light. Too much time seeing the worst of humanity as Superboy and mistakenly thinking he saw it in the pleasant, kind face of the school’s counselor. Nothing to worry about at all. It was fine. He felt fine about all of it.
Elle was crying now.
He felt sick.
“Well, that is good to know.” Dr. Spektor said, voice honey sweet and lulling. “But I would hate for Danielle to fall into those old, nasty habits of hers. Better to make sure she understands that violence is never the answer.” She stepped over to him, leaning over to settle concerned eyes upon him and a gentle hand on his shoulder, surprisingly cool even through the weight of his blazer and the layers beneath. “Again I am so sorry you got hurt, Mr. Kent. I do hope Danielle can make it up to you later. She could use a good influence like you in her life.”
The sick feeling in his gut grew worse, even as his body was flooded with a sense of blissful contentment and unquestioning understanding of the situation. The vague idea that had been bubbling in him since the start of the school year to reach out to the girl in question solidified into a determined certainty that he would do just that the first chance he got. A flame flourishing at the gentle encouragement of a fan.
Just behind the school counselor Elle was terrified out of her mind.
Elle was just a little upset that she got in trouble, she’d be fine.
Dr. Spektor was treating Elle with a barely contained cruelty, venomous and wrathful.
Dr. Spektor was treating Elle normally, disappointed that she resorted to violence.
It was all wrong.
It was all perfectly fine.
The counselor stood up straight, gave him one last pat on the shoulder and a smile before turning towards the door of the Dean’s office. Her smile slipped for just a moment, face back in that disdainful blankness as she plucked invisible lint from her suit jacket. Not even looking at Elle as she gave a short, “Go to the car. Wait there. No detours. No calls. Speak to no one.”
Elle lurched into motion, getting to her feet with a mechanical kind of stiffness. She didn’t run down the hall but her awkward, robotic gate was nearly at that speed as she almost threw herself down the hall towards the side entrance where the staff parking lot was.
Dr. Spektor’s smile returned. Professional. Polite. The person everyone in school knew they could reach out to and trust if there was anything wrong, if they needed help. Guiding the students with a gentle hand, bolstering the faculty with her bright positivity. She knocked on the door and entered upon invitation with her familiar cheer.
Something was deeply, truly wrong with everything going on here.
Everything was perfectly normal.
D found him ten minutes later, dry heaving in the boys’ bathroom.
He couldn’t remember why he was there.
Everything was fine.
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charlesf1leclerc · 8 months
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I have no ideas but i love to support writers so here we are
Charles with reader that speaks italian and french fluently, but they're not her first languages. and he didn't know that. So he's Very pleasantly surprised when he hears her talking with the ferrari people in italian. And then with his mom in french and he's all heart eyes for her😌
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Summary- you learn French in order to make a great first impression on Charles family and Charles is over the moon about it 
Warnings- poorly edited , badly translated French, mention of marriage 
Authors note- I hope that this is ok and to your liking 
It was a sunny evening in Monaco you and Charles where on your way over to his mums house for a family dinner. You were quite nervous was you had never met his mum before, you had met his brothers around the paddock and at races but you had yet to meet his mum and your really wanted to make a good impression. You ha doit your nicest dress on and tried to look as classy as possible not wanting to look tacky around the mother of the love of your life. You also had another little trick up your sleeve you had been learning a little bit of French so you could interact with the family in their native language, Charles hadn’t known you had been learning the language and you couldn’t wait to see his face when he found out , you just hoped tou wouldn’t miss pronounce anything cause that would ruin your prefect first impression.
“ here we are “ Charles spoke up
“ it’s really nice, this where you grew up” you inquired
“ yep this is where little Charles lived” 
“ aww it’s so cute”
Charles came around and grabbed your hand as you walked up to the door. He could obviously feel your sweaty palms and he turned to face you before ringing the bell.
“ it’s gonna be ok Cherie, she’s gonna love you, how could she not”
“ yeah it’s just meeting your mum is a big deal I just want to make a good impression”
“ and you will “ he says pulling you into him kissing your temple before ringing the doorbell.
After a few minutes the door finally opened. “Bonjour”
“ bonjour mama” Charles spoke leaning in to kiss his mum on both of her cheeks.
“ et vous devez être o/n” ( and you must be y/n) she spoke turning to you
“Oh mum y/n dosent speak French “ Charles spoke this was your moment 
“ c'est un plaisir de vous rencontrer Mme Leclerc”  ( it’s so nice to meet you Mrs Leclerc ) 
Charles turned to you stunned at the fact you had just spoken such fluent French, he didn’t know you knew how to speak any other language other then English and he wasn’t gonna lie this made him fall in love with you even more. 
“ oh tu parles français “ ( oh you do speak French ) she looked humorously at Charles.
“ juste quelques petites choses alors peut-être ne comptez pas sur mon français pour toute la nuit” ( just a few things so maybe don’t rely on my French for the whole night ) you laughed
“ well anyone nice to meet you dear, come in come let’s go settle inside and get to know each-other.
you and Charles followed her inside. Charles stopped you by grabbing your arm . You turned around to face him.
“ since when could speak French” he looked at you
“ since a couple weeks ago, I learnt some specially for today although I only know a few things I thought I might need to say “ you laughed rocking back on your heels
“ marry me “ he stared at you
You burst out laughing 
“ what”
“ I mean I’m just so in love with you right now , you went to all that just for my family”
“ I mena i love you and I will do whatever for your family to love me”
He pulled you in to kiss your lips
“ your perfect for me” he looked lovingly in your eyes still holding your cheek.
“ you guys ok” Pascale shouted 
“ coming mama” Charles linked his hand with yours as you walked further into the house. It’s safe to say the rest of your French knowledge paid of that night 
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hellsslibrary · 6 months
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⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚NSFW Alphabet with Azul Ashengrotto˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆
DNI : minors.
!!Warnings : switch!top!male!reader, switch!bottom!Azul, size difference kink, oral, toys, cock warming, praise/humiliation kink, power dynamic, ink(I'm not sorry).
#a.n. : While everyone is writing kinktobers, I'm still trying to finish this. But wait after the alphabets, there will be kinktober... In November, to make it more convenient (and maybe earlier, if I try). Also, no pictures today because I want to redo the decor, and I'm writing this part of Azul for two beautiful ladies, so...(I'll add them later)
A = Aftercare (What are they like after sex?)
He is embarrassed about this (just a little), but he will help put things in order in what he and his partner have done. Prefers to rest a bit before cleaning, but if his partner starts, he will certainly help too. Especially if he was in a dominant position.
B = Body Part (Their favorite body part as well as their partners)
Well, in your body it would... Certain parts. He definitely has a kink for the size difference (you can't argue with me, I want to pin him against the wall). And he will love anything if it is bigger than his body parts? Palms, muscles, if any, tongue, di—. Yes.
Honestly, he really likes his chest, and not just the nipples specifically, he likes it when his partner touches him anywhere on the chest in general. I just have a headcanon that he has very petite chest, even for a guy and well... Sorry.
C = Cum (basically anything related to sperm)
So... His sperm has the most ordinary consistency. It is released quite a bit during orgasm, but it tastes quite salty. There is his ink in the sperm (fanfiction with the overblot form of Azul is always in my head, maybe I’ll write them too someday)
Mmm, I think he likes it when people cum in his mouth. Fish sperm, according to internet experts, is simply disgusting. So he likes this taste, definitely.
D = Dirty Secret (Self-explanatory, their dirty secret)
He is the power bottom almost always, simply because he is flattered by the idea of control. But damn, he has moments where he just wants you to take it all into your own hands and take it as you please, mostly without considering his opinion (but still having his consent to it, of course).
E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they are doing?)
... No. Simply no. He's definitely a virgin. I doubt he even knows much about sex in theory. Well, dick, hole there, sperm, orgasm. That's all, okay?
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
Doggy style~. Don't lie to me that you didn't want to bend him over his table in the VIP room, I won't believe you (it's not exactly doggy style, but who cares). He mostly refuses to look you in the face when you're dominant, so why not.
If he is dominant... Missionary position? I just like the idea of a dominant bottom underneath a service top and well... Azul would be a good fit. He likes to be snuggled anyway.
G = Goofy (Are they more serious at the moment? Are they humorous? etc.)
Extremely serious, but with a hint of playfulness, if that makes sense. For example, if he has sex with a partner, it means that they literally mean the world to him and he is exposing a part of himself that is really vulnerable, so he likes it if both parties take it very seriously, but he also likes to have an opportunity to tease you and pull your strings just to see how you react.
H = Hair (How well groomed is it? Does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
I wouldn't say he's shaved, but his hair is definitely short, so there's no real need for that. The color is absolutely identical and they are also slightly curly, just like this hairstyle...
I = Intimacy (How are they feeling at the moment? Romantic aspect.)
He is very romantic in general. As I said earlier, he exposes a part of himself that is truly vulnerable, so when his partner takes it seriously, he feels very loved, generally respected and accepted, so he becomes much more romantic both sexually and in general .
J = Jack off (Main canon of masturbation)
He has a lot of stress in his life, you know? So, fuck... I think he would like to do this more often, but he doesn't do it often anyway. He still prefers your hands.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
He probably likes to be humiliated and praised at the same time, and I can't explain it for the world, but I know it. Also likes power dynamics, likes to be bossed around and have less power than the other person, but still respected. But when it comes to dominating you—... For now. He also loves getting your cock warm (sorry). Well... I like to attribute this kink to all busy characters, except for Vil, what will you do to me.
L = Location (Favorite places to do things)
Very personal to him, so the only place he could really do this is either his room, his partners room, or some motel if he's really desperate. Specifically and for the most part, this is his room because he knows where everything is and he has certain toys that he can just pull out whenever he wants. Although... With a lot of persuasion or no choice (if one of you was EXTREMELY horny), he would agree to have sex in a less secluded place
M = Motivation (what turns them on, turns them on)
When he and his partner have a truly romantic relationship (that is, serious) or when you start whispering all sorts of dirty things in his ear and touching his thighs, for example.
N = No (Something they wouldn't do is disabled)
Hmm, I should at least list with someone no (with Vil there will be a direct list, lol), but Azula will also receive this honor. Rape, he also really doesn't like threesomes because he feels it's more about getting laid than actually caring about each other and wants to dedicate all his love to one person in particular. And also his real form until a very distant moment in the relationship.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
Receiving. You can't tell me otherwise because this man looks like he was made to be flexed, especially with his skinny waist like...(sorry, I got carried away) and he probably doesn't mind either sit on your face (if that’s what you’re into, of course). The ratio would be something like this: 60% for you, 40% for you.
He's not particularly good at giving blowjobs, but it's all made better by his enthusiasm to bring you to orgasm as quickly as possible... As long as he's not teasing or denying your orgasm, of course.
P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)
He is slow and sensual as he loves to enjoy every moment he can spend with his partner in this way. Also wants to make sure that the other person knows that he loves them for real, and not just for sex.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickie games, how often, etc.)
Doesn't like quick games, but if he's really busy and his partner wants to do it, he'll agree to one. Well... Actually, they happen quite often, if I may confess.
R = Risk (are they playing with experiments? Are they taking risks? etc.)
Willing to take risks, but very quickly draws a line under what he doesn't like to do (he absolutely doesn't want many things until he becomes comfortable with his boyfriend/he has more trust in him). He wants to spend time with his partner as fully as possible.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they last? How long will they last?)
He becomes very weak in this position, so can usually only last about 7-10 rounds at most (still a reminder that this is a magical world, kittens). He actually only tries three or so, but if his partner wants to try a few more, he's more than welcome. True, only a few.
T = Toys (Do they have toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)
He probably has a dildo that he pleasures himself with from time to time, but he only really uses one. He takes good care of it and always makes sure it's properly cleaned so he doesn't get an infection or get sick or anything like that. Not a big fan of toys in general, but if that's what you want, he's okay with it.
U = Unfair (How much they love to tease)
He really likes both sides of the coin. He enjoys both teasing his partner and receiving teasing from him. Loves it when he squirms under his partner and he starts making comments about it, although he always complains about it, he likes it. And I also like the completely mirrored version.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
Very loud because he often forgets to be quiet, the only thing he can really think about is his partner at that moment so nothing else matters. Although, if you persuade him to have sex outside of your rooms with him... He will hardly utter a sound, he is too ashamed.
W = Wild Card (random character headcanon)
He... Loves... Jerk... You... With...His... Tentacles. Okay, listen to me. When in the end, you gain his trust completely, he will agree to many things in his form. And damn... The tentacles are clearly faster and more skillful than his arms (even if they are quite chubby).
X = X-ray (Let's see what's going on under those clothes)
12 cm/just under 5 inches. He has a mole on his balls. His balls are surprisingly quite large and plump.
Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)
Like I said, his sex drive is quite high considering his stress level, but on average... He's fine with about 2-3 times a week. Although, what if you want more? He's all yours.
Z - Zzz (How quickly they fall asleep later)
Doesn't fall asleep right away, he likes to compliment his partner or talk a little before he falls asleep. If his partner is asleep, he can simply lie there for 10-20 minutes and come to the realization of what he just did before falling back to sleep.
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monarchberrysblog · 27 days
Text
'𝔴𝔞𝔦𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔤' 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔶𝔬𝔲 (𝔣𝔦𝔫𝔞𝔩𝔢)
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Summary: “…I’m in love with you.”
Content Warning: sweet, wholesomeness, a little bit of mutual pinning, idiots in love but they finally admit it 😦
Word Count: 2.2k words
Author’s Notes: This is the finale of ‘waiting’ for you! I was not expecting to see many of you guys tune in, and thank you for the support; it means a lot to me as a small indie author here on this platform. Once again, thank you for your love and support! (If you see errors, no, you didn't—)
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Standing at the hostess stand with the restaurant door in front of you has become a familiar sight over time. Seeing the brown carpet and warm lights was a sight your eyes bore to. It's been repetitive, but you didn't mind. As long as things don't happen out of the ordinary, it's okay. Everything from the outside may show two women next to each other having small talk is normal, but the context of it says otherwise.
“Yeah, I see what's going on here…” Jess jokingly announces to you. “Oh, what are you talking about?” You dodge her statement by providing a rhetorical question you desperately didn't want to know her comment to. “Hey, I'm a grown woman, married and about to have a child. I can smell the tension and chemistry from here.”
“Okay, but we don't know if Miguel handed me the umbrella a couple of days ago.” You added on.
“You say you don't know if Miguel lent you the umbrella, but why did you bring it into the restaurant and leave it leaning against the doors?” Jess inquires. You rolled your eyes and neatly stacked the menus next to you. “You know what I think?” She continues. You let out a long sigh and prepared to hear Jess’ investigative skills on the table. “I think that you know that it was Miguel who lent you that umbrella.”
“Nah, you think?” You hear the sarcasm in your voice before you turn your body away from her in response. “Do you like him?” She challenges.
“No, Jess.” You grumble, looking over your shoulder just to look at her for a moment.
A little smirk formed on her lips as she noticed you peel over to her. “Admit it; you like Miguel, don't you?” She mocked, waiting for a response. You turned away and huffed. “I don't know what you're talking about.” You mumbled, barely loud enough for even yourself to hear.
The sudden appearance of the restaurant's bartender hopping out of nowhere was enough to make you cringe. “You said otherwise on text last night while you were three drinks in.” Lyla jumped into the space, showing her pink iPhone to Jess, causing you to tackle the shorter, petite woman nearly. “No!” You huffed, wanting to grab the mobile device from her. The phone was no longer in her hands but in Jess's hands. “Very interesting…” She mumbled, scrolling through the drunken messages you and Lyla shared the previous night before, reading them.
The slight frown on Jessica’s lips soon evolved into a shit-eating grin. “Oh, this is too good…” Jess snickered, scrolling through the messages. “Jess, give it over…” You demanded, walking over to her. “Oh hell no, this is just a chef’s kiss to the recipe of ‘I told you.’ Jess laughed out loud, handing the pink iPhone back to Lyla. “Thanks for sharing, Lyla.” Lyla gave you a grin and left the area back to the restaurant‘s bar.
You covered your face with the menus, slowly sliding them down to reveal the burning look on your face. Silence filled the space before you fixed your hair and looked at an odd corner. “So, you do like him.” She muses.
You sigh and see a couple of hungry customers enter the restaurant. “Interpret it as you will.” You huff before you grasp the restaurant's menus and usher the guests to a clean table.
/
It was the thirtieth-anniversary opening of the restaurant, which means that the restaurant would close early for the employees to celebrate amongst each other and have a poor excuse to get free food and beverages. This night was no exception.
“I'm not drinking that, Lyla.” Miguel huffed to the bartender. “Oh, come on! This soda tastes amazing!” Lyla held the ocean-like teal color soda to Miguel, insisting he take a sip. “This looks like this would send me to a coma!” He groans in disgust. “But it's a Baja Blast!”
“I would never put that in my system even if it was the last drink on this planet.”
Lyla shrugs and sips on the drink. “Suit yourself.”
/
The cool spring breeze accompanies the silence on the rooftop of the restaurant. The city's skyscrapers brightly shined, giving any on-looker a sight to see. “I didn't expect to see you up here.” Miguel greets you, soon sitting on one of the garden chairs next to you. “I don't do well in loud, crowded spaces.” You shrug, taking a sip of water from your bottle.
He nods and leans back a bit on the iron garden chair. He glances back to the garden bed momentarily and nods, deciding to initiate conversation. (In the worst way possible.)
“You know, six years ago, a year before you came in, we used to have a garden up here on this very rooftop.” You turned back and saw the now-empty garden bed lacking the green veggies, let alone a single sprout.
“What happened to it?” You ask, soon turning back to look at the bright scenery before you two. “Since Alex came in, he wanted us to bargain for our ingredients rather than grow them. Too expensive, he says.”
“Isn't bargaining with food suppliers more expensive than buying a bag of mulch?” You questioned, glancing back at the empty garden boxes that once contained fresh, healthy veggies ready to be grown.
“To him, the garden was a waste of time due to a lack of produce during the winter.”
“Ah.”
Silence filled the space between the two of you, only allowing lowly sirens of police cruisers on the streets to fill the giant, awkward silence. “Why is it hard to talk to this man? But enough! Maybe it's time to actually talk…”
“So—” The two of you spoke at the same time before you two started to stack on each other sentences like a tower of Jenga. “Sorry, go ahead.” You laughed awkwardly, soon tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “No, you've heard enough of me; what did you want to say?” Miguel dismissed his words, waiting for you to speak. You nod and soon take a deep breath.
“Well, we’ve been working together for a couple of years now, and I realized,” You look over to him and lean back on your seat. “I'm always at the front, and you're always in the kitchen, and we rarely see each other—I mean...” You pause for a moment and decide to spill it. “…This will sound weird, but it feels like I've known you forever.”
Miguel raises a brow before a lowly chuckle fills y'alls bubble. “Yeah?” Miguel chuckled before turning to look at you, locking eye contact. “Name one thing about me that you know about me.”
You think for a moment before you recall an odd detail. “I know that you have an orange cat named Lyla.” You announce confidently with a little smirk on your face. “C’mon, almost everyone in this restaurant knows that.” Miguel retorts, remembering his little friend back at his apartment.
“Okay, but tell me why you named the cat that? Is it because of Lyla, our bartender?” Miguel let out a sigh at the question and then nodded. “Yeah, because the orange cat is similar to her, wild and energetic. Let me show you.” He then pulls his phone out and scrolls around for a bit before he pauses and shows the screen to you.
The phone presented a video of the marmalade cat zooming around his bedroom, jumping on his nightstand, bed, and desk, presumably in the early morning hours. “Lyla, ya parale con tus joderás…” You can hear Miguel’s raspy voice through the phone’s speaker. The cat in the video only responded with multiple chirps and continued to zoom around, knocking Miguel’s desk lamp and creating a loud crash. The lamp breaking earns a low groan from Miguel in the video.
The video ended, causing you to laugh at the active animal. “I can see why you named the cat after Lyla. Very similar when it comes to sudden bursts of energy.”
The man only groaned in annoyance, not to you but to the feline he has as a pet. “She is always knocking stuff down and scratching things up. It's her favorite pastime while I'm here at work.”
You shake your head while smiling at the cat’s antics. “Well, that's one more thing you know about me.” Miguel shrugs, resting his arm on the garden table near yours. You could almost feel his pinky against yours. One sudden shove and you would be resting your hand on his.
I want to know more…
“What about you?” The question returned you to reality, snapping your focus into the conversation. “What about me?” You laughed nervously. “Other than talking to me, you seem to be the type to come in and do your job.” You felt yourself cringe at his words as it wasn't far from the truth.
“Yeah, I mean—it's not every day that an old man throws soup at you or a lady complains about blood in her steak when she ordered a rare steak.” You grumble, soon moving your hand away from the table to massage your temples, recalling an unwanted event.
“Like today, a lady wanted warm water to ‘sanitize’ her utensils.” You can see the look of troubled cross Miguel’s face. “Sanitize?” Miguel nearly laughed at the claim. “Does she know that we have a dishwasher we pay?” You shake your head at the question and groan. “No, apparently, because Health Codes don't exist in her world.”
“Did she do the same thing with her cup of water?” Miguel laughed in a troubled manner, hardly believing the interaction. “No, and then I told her: You do realize that the water has to be 145°F and the utensils have to be marinated for five to ten minutes?”
“And what did she say?” Miguel chuckled out. “She stayed quiet.” You chuckled, remembering the disbelief look on the customer.
“Well, you know people say ignorance is bliss,” Miguel added, soon taking a deep breath from his chuckle.
“I wish I was that happy about life.” You moved your hand away from your temple and rested it on the garden table. But it wasn't the garden table; it was his arm. You moved your hand away immediately and kept your hands to yourself.
“Sorry.” You sighed and got up from your seat. “Im going downstairs to get a drink, is there something you want?”
It got quiet again, and it was going so well. Why did you have to ruin it!!
“Hey,” He paused momentarily, stopping your footsteps. A pregnant pause filled the bubble between you two as Miguel deeply inhaled, creating a sharp sound between his teeth. “I’m in love with you.”
“…what?”
“I’ve been in love with you. Ever since you became a hostess.” You nod, a bit troubled at the confession. “It’s constantly with you, and it will continue to stay that way.”
Your little heart fluttered while your stomach dropped in excitement. Seems as if the feelings were mutual. Instead, you kept quiet and kept your response silent and to yourself.
“But will getting to know each other make things better?”
Silence hung the environment with ease. He got up from his seat and stood before you, locking his eyes on yours.
Nothing comes to mind, leaving you frozen. Nothing at all. It felt as if Miguel sucked the words out of you. “I—” You began, but Miguel placed his finger against your lips, pausing your words.
“You don't have to say anything if you don't feel the same way. We rarely speak, but I wanted you to know and get to know you better.”
He moved his finger away and waited for you to say something—even a single peep from you. “Say something, please…” He pleads softly, a tone you always hear whenever you speak to him, contrasting what your coworkers always hear.
“Miguel, I—” You felt a soft, plush sensation against your lips. The sensation of his arms pulling you close to a warm embrace while his lips sewed onto yours. The kiss tasted sweet, like the desserts he often snuck to you under Alex’s nose. The warmth from his hands against your upper back is enough to make you melt, leaning into him.
After a brief moment, he pulled away and fixed your hair for you, being gentle with his touch and motions. He looked down and saw the look in your eyes, little hearts in them, accompanying admiration.
You clicked your tongue before you took a deep breath. “…I like you too.”
“I would like to know you better, too.”
A small sigh of relief leaves Migurl before he gently grabs your hand. “That's all I needed to hear.”
/
SEVERAL YEARS LATER
(You can read it if you like—)
The lively, lightfall footsteps of a child filled Miguel’s home floor in Brooklyn. The footfalls soon entered the kitchen with lively brown eyes looking up at Miguel with admiration. “Papí!” The toddler yelled out, running to him at full speed and embracing him tightly. “Ay, Gabriella…”
He stopped chopping the vegetables, placing the knife down, and lifted the toddler.
“Did you sleep well?” He soon planted a forehead kiss on the tiny girl. “Yes! Can you make cheese omelets, papí?”
Miguel chuckled before he glanced at the chopped veggies on the cutting board. “Yes, mija, but you need your veggies, too. Especially onions and bell peppers.” The toddler expressed a “blerg” in response, looking down at the chopped onions and tomatoes. She leaned down, grabbed a small fistful of diced ham, and began to snack on it.
“Why is mommy crying more?” The toddler asked, looking up at her father while eating the uncooked deli meat. “Well, it's because she's carrying your little brother, Samuel, and she's been more tired recently.” The toddler pouts her lips for a moment and nods. She finishes eating her ‘snack’ and thinks momentarily before her eyes shine in excitement.
“Can we make mommy a cheese omelet to make her feel better?”
“Claro que sí, hija.”
While the father and daughter interacted in the kitchen, a marmalade cat strolled past the two to the door. As always, the cat looked up at the umbrella bucket, now seeing two umbrellas in the long container.
Translations:
ya parale con tus joderás (stop with your bullshit.)
(If I missed any, let me know)
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Tag List:
(Tumblr hates me istg—)
@soymiguelsesposa @huniedeux @improbable-outset @leafyturtle @oharafilipinawife @daisy-artfield @freeingrebels @roserfz27 @heyybaejjk @esmedelacroix @yougavemeyourheartyouknow @rosegnome @lazyjellyfish300 @peachey-pie @itswhateversworld @tryinghardatlife @famouscattale @safixiovi @miguelzslvtz
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169 notes · View notes
levyfiles · 4 days
Note
some people are mad at steven for a moral issue, tbf. regardless of your thoughts on watcher’s streaming service he did still say he has racist and homophobic friends. he still goes to a homophobic church.
I absolutely recognise that you must have been recently introduced to The Pod Clip that the twitter teens who hate him preserved to break out whenever it's a fresh moment to rally hate against him, but I would advise anyone just receiving this clip from August 2020 being passed around with the angle that Watcher tried to hide this. I and many others were there and just know that I have a zero tolerance standard for people who show no remorse or growth when they uplift racists and bigots.
Mine and other fans who were startled by the statement hoped publicly that it would be an opportunity to clear the air for Watcher because the current political climate was just finally examining anti-blackness in everyone's biases and as someone who is mixed-African growing up in an Asian household, I know that anti blackness is and has been a normalised mindset in the Asian community.
But the thing is, months before this, Steven platformed Tammy and her colleagues to discuss how all of us can work together to stop Asian hate and one of the conversations I highlighte back then was how very clear Tammy was that allyship from the Asian community to the African-American community was tantamount to moving forward. That the us vs them rhetoric has and continues to be harmful for both parties. Ryan and Steven were very involved in this discussion and agreed wholeheartedly.
Having said that, the narrative around the podcast ep never had a chance to be discussed rationally. It really ended up skewed because Steven's response to the backlash from that clip was this
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I hope that's legible to you. Many people who felt uneasy about what he said felt a lot better and his intention to say something at the top of the next episode would once again, unfortunately, get derailed because Twitter users (some who are particularly loud about loving and supporting Watcher yet constantly join in on the throng of bullying as soon as the tide turns) were adamant that they needed Watcher to post the clip and Steven's apology publicly on their youtube front page and on the main socials, to literally advertise it when the reality is that not many people were watching/listening to the podcast. For what reason would it be intelligent or good business practice to broadcast this hurtful moment so that more people could get hurt by it?
Watcher's response amid the harassment was to release a full podcast episode where they all discussed what they would do going forward to show that they are allies, not just by not being racist or homophobic but by being anti-these things. They showed that they cared about their impact. It was emotional and devastating to watch and by that time, we knew the pod was likely going to wind down. 2020 was already a miserable time and it was made worse because no matter what Steven or Watcher said at the time, the "stans" on Twitter wanted the man fired, they posted memes saying the world would be better if Steven Lim didn't exist, they wanted him shamed by his staff, and for Ryan and Shane to publicly disavow him. Many of these so-called devoted fans raided the server to yell about how Steven's alleged homophobia hurts them, most of them were white and pointedly talking over people of colour telling them "it's not your apology to accept!". It was a blood bath.
And I see waaaay too many of the same faces utilizing this completely neutral move--that of COURSE could have been executed better--to terrorize Steven, to make petitions to get him fired, commenting on his wedding photo telling him that Tammy should leave him, posting those same damn disgusting memes because you see, a whole bunch of people forgot how disgusting and evil this vendetta was to the point where even watcher's socials started to FOLLOW some of these genuinely mean-spirited individuals. They didn't give a shit about a movement or activism.
What kills me--what absolutely THROWS me--is that these same people expect to be able to return to interacting with the staff, attending live shows, buying merch and sending fan mail as soon as the hate tide winds down. All these people so concerned about a statement referencing faceless hypothetical racists and homophobes that Steven never named nor attributed any context for--as he was never given the chance--are so quick to dehumanize and caricaturize real human beings to their faces and they think this is a normal and acceptable behaviour.
You'll have to excuse me, as an older fan who has seen my fair share of normalised homophobia and racism in these communities, if I disagree.
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bbodiless · 2 months
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TOO BIG, SUGU’! | Geto x Reader
content. +18 content mdni, big size difference, !fem reader, teeny tiny reader, p in v, !gentledom geto, etc.
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You were such a teeny tiny thing on your own, but compared to Geto? You were like a microorganism. He was so much bigger than you, so much taller, so much more muscular, and he absolutely loved it, meaning he was definitely going to use it to his advantage.
Geto was bigger than any other guy you've been with, in more ways than one. You both still were struggling to make half of his cock fit in you, let alone the entire thing. Not to mention the fact that you were so, extremely tight... it drove him insane.
-
You're on top of him, straddling his hips while one of his hands holds your waist and the other holds his cock up straight. He was hard as a rock when he saw your little body writhing because of his tongue licking up every drop of your sweet nectar. Now, you were going to help take care of it.
Your hands gripped onto his shoulders tightly as you squeezed your eyes closed, preparing yourself for his cock like it was a shot. "It's okay, honey. I promise I'll be so gentle," he vows, his voice is so soothing that you let out a relieved sigh, not that you thought he'd be rough anyway, that's just not his style.
He pressed a kiss to your forehead before guiding you down slowly, his tip nudging at your entrance. "I'm going to slowly slide you down onto it, okay?" You nod and he makes sure his cock is still lubed up before gently sliding you onto the tip. You're already gasping slightly and he's hushing you reassuringly, telling you it's only the tip and you're okay.
His cock was so girthy that it felt like you would rip at the seams. "Hah- That- That's a lot—woah," you stammered, tears forming at your lash line because of the intensity. He eased you down until he reached the hilt, which mean't only half of his cock was inside you. "Okay, do you need a second before I move you again?" he asked. You shook your head and he nodded, just once.
He pulled you up slightly before bringing you back down, causing you to let out a choked moan. Your nails were digging into the tender skin of his shoulders, tender because you kept scratching them harshly. "Such a good girl, are you okay, baby?" You don't give him a direct response, instead you lean into his chest, your movements now uncontrolled by him, instead controlled by you.
You release his shoulders and hook your arms around his neck, your head burrowed in the crook of his neck as you ride him slowly. He lets out a groan at your tightness gripping him like a vice as he succumbs to the sensation. Your tiny, barely-there breasts gently bounce as you bounce on the upper half of his cock.
His hands find your waist again after they've been on your lower back, guiding you as you go from riding to bouncing. You were so petite, so small that he began thrusting up and using your body like a fleshlight. And, god, you were so cockdrunk that you had your tongue lolled out and your eyes rolled back as he fucked you so fucking good.
"Sugu—" *hic* "Too m-much!" you cried as he fucked you relentlessly. He knew it was a lot to process for your little body but he couldn't resist going as hard as he could when he had a perfect pussy wrapped so tight around his length. "I know, baby. I know. Just be a good girl for me and take it, 'kay?"
He was so close; his cock throbbed inside you as his hands moved down to grip your ass. "Mmhh.. Baby, 'm gonna cum, okay?" he panted. You didn't even get a chance to reply before his warm, stickiness coated the inside of your womb, triggering your orgasm. Both of you simultaneously panted as you came down from your climaxes.
"Should we see if you can take the whole thing down your throat?"
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hi, hope u have a nice week ahead!!
could u write a charles leclerc x reader where theyʼre super close with one of their friends, and that friend has a baby, and charles and reader are SO protective of the baby and they get asked to be their godparents and its all fluffy?? tysm tysm!!
Note: thank you 🫶 hope you have a lovely week too!
"I can take Marta for her appointment", you offered as the boys seemed to be discussing some plans but an appointment was proving to get in the way, "you don't mind?", Riccardo asked.
"I don't, and if it's fine with you and her, I'm fine too - isn't she doing the glucose test? They just make her chug a sugary juice and then she has to wait it out to check for gestational diabetes - good company is always nice for those", you added.
"I owe you one, Y/N", Riccardo said after Marta said she didn't mind going with you instead of him, "yes, you do!".
.
"Hey little angel", Charles said as he held the first baby of his friend group in his arms, smiling at her chubby cheeks, "you have such a cutie face, don't you?", he cooed, "Oh, there comes the nurse, and from what I heard she's coming to give you some medicine, but it's okay, I'm going to let you get to your papa again so he can cuddle you after", he smiled.
"She's so cute", you cooed to Charles as you let the medical staff do what they needed to do, "she is", Charles kissed your forehead.
.
"They're all being really loud, aren't they?", you cooed at the three week old baby on your arms, "you'll learn in due time that it is always like this - so much excitement, fun and joy, and now that you're here, even more", you caressed her soft cheek with your finger, "another thing is that there are so many of us you'll always have someone to protect you, to take care of you, to defend you when your mama and papa say you gave them a hard night - I'll always be in your corner, petite fleur", you kissed her forehead.
"That I don't doubt", Marta said as she stepped inside the nursery, "didn't mean to spook you, but I needed to pump some milk out", she said as she sat down on her big comfy chair, turning the pumps on, "if you want to hold her that's fine - I just took her here because she was fussing, I figured it was from the noise", you explained.
"She looks perfectly content on your arms, I'll get my cuddles later", she smiled, seeing how gentle you were with her, recalling the conversation she had with Riccardo just the night before about who should be their little girl's godparents.
.
"Come here, little angel, uncle Charles has got you", Charles said as he held the little girl, kissing her cheek multiple times and adjusting the hat on her head so the sun wouldn't bother her eyes before he reapplied her suncream, "can't have my favourite princess looking like a little lobster, can I?", Charles spoke to her, getting a few giggles out of her.
"We actually wanted to talk to you two", Marta began, "we never know what life throws at us, and we want to make sure if something unexpected happens, our daughter is in good hands", she added, "We would love for you two to be her godparents", Riccardo wondered.
"Really? Absolutely, guys!", Charles said, kissing his now goddaughter's cheeks again before setting her on your lap so he could hug your friends while the little girl fiddled with the charms on your necklace, "are you happy, baby? Happy happy happy!", you cheered, kissing her chubby hands as she palmed your face.
"Thank you, it's such an honour", you said to Marta and Riccardo.
"We wouldn't trust anyone else - the way you are with her, the way you love her, everything", they smiled.
(Thank you for sending this in ✨️)
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mariclerc · 29 days
Text
Dad and daughter moment | pg10
Summary: You decide to leave your boyfriend at home with your little girl and they had a little adventure.
Warning: none. Dedicated to @martaaairwin1994-blog
a/n: this is like a part 2 of "family cuddles" I hope u like it <3
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It was a sunny afternoon and you decide to go buy some things for the house and some things that both you and little Lucille need.
“I can go with you bebé?” Pierre asks behind you.
You deny. “Obviously not, silly... Also, who is going to stay with Lulu?”
When you go out alone to shop or do anything you always take Lucille with you, the times you leave her with Pierre have not been so... encouraging, let's put it that way.
One time they almost burned down the kitchen making cookies, or one time he fell asleep and left Lulu on her own. In the same way, you had to give even a vote of confidence to your boyfriend, maybe he is a little bit clueless, but that doesn't mean he does it on purpose.
“It's okay honey, I'll take care of her, I promise!” He says and you give him a kiss on the cheek.
“Good boy!” you giggle and you head out of the room.
“Mama!” Lucille says hugging you.
“My little flower! You're going to stay with papa today, is that right?” you said while giving her a little kiss on her cheek. “He's going to take good care of you today!”
She nods happily and smiled. “Okay mama!”
***
“Well little princess, what do you want to do today with papa?” Pierre asks Lulu. “We can do what you like.”
“Paints papa!” She says between giggles.
“Oh, so you want to paint with papa? Let's get to it then!” He says as he carries her in his arms and goes to look for the materials for their colorful adventure in one of the closets.
After a while they had paints, brushes and canvases for their painting.
“Bright! Bright!” says Lucille jumping while pointing at the bright pink color.
Pierre chuckles. “Do you like bright pink? What do you plan to paint today mon petit artiste?” He says while smiling. (my little artist.)
She starts making strokes on the canvas. “Draw!” smiled.
After a while, what started with simple strokes on the canvas continued with clothes and hands stained with paint. But they didn't care because they were both laughing out loud and having lots of fun, it was a nice moment between father and daughter that they will both always remember.
They are not aware of your arrival at the house, you enter the hallway, laden with shopping bags. You kick the door shut with your foot and head towards the living room, a wry smile on your face.
In the living room, chaos reigns... Paint splatters adorn the coffee table, the floor, and most alarmingly, the pristine white wall, in the center of it all, sits Pierre his face a canvas of vibrant colors, a look of pure joy on it. Lucille sits next to him, similarly decorated and equally delighted.
You take a moment to take in the scene, a rollercoaster of emotions flitting across your face - exasperation, amusement, and a touch of awe.
Feigning exasperation. “Oh my god Pierre, what have you done?”
Pierre looks up, a sheepish grin spreading across his paint-streaked face. Lucille lets out a gleeful squeal.
“Surprise amour! We were... expressing ourselves artistically.” He says with his voice thick with paint.
You walk towards them, placing the bags down. “Looks more like a warzone to me.”
Lucille reaches out for you, her tiny hand covered in a rainbow of colors.
“Papa! Paint!” Lucille giggles.
“Woah there, little Picasso. Let's get you cleaned up before mommy has a meltdown, alright?” you scoop her up.
Pierre chuckles, wiping a hand (mostly clean) across his forehead.
“Meltdown? That's a bit dramatic, don't you think love?”
”But look around you, Mr. artsy pants. This is gonna take some scrubbing!” You say raising an eyebrow.
“Hey, it was her idea! I was just, uh, facilitating her artistic vision, you know, that helps with kids creativity.” He stands up.
“Ah yes, the renowned Gasly School of Modern Toddler Art. I should've known.” You say sarcastically.
Despite your teasing words, there's a warmth in your voice. You glance at Lucille, who's now giggling uncontrollably.
“Alright, alright. I admit, it does look like you two had a lot of fun.” You say with a soft voice.
“We always do when you're not around to boss us around.” He says as he puts his arm around you.
“Hey! I'm not a boss, I just keep things from descending into complete chaos you know?” you playfully swat his arm.
“Seems like you failed today, love.” he smiles.
“Oh, shut up you colourful boy.” you laugh a little.
You lean in and kiss Pierre, a hint of paint transferring to your lips. He pulls away, grinning.
“So, how about we clean up this little art project and order some takeout? Celebrate our success in the realm of abstract expressionism?” He says in a soft voice.
”Sounds like a plan. Just promise me finger paints are off-limits next time, alright?” You smile at his proposal.
“No promises, but I'll try my best chérie.” He hold his hands up in mock surrender.
Lucille lets out another gurgle, her eyes sparkling with mischief. You can't help but laugh, knowing that with these two around, a little chaos is always guaranteed in your life.
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breezybangtanbebe · 2 months
Text
Mine: JJK💋
A/N: an oldie from my WP Oneshot series🥰 might be slightly unedited because I pulled it from the archives. Forgive the typos por favor..
Tags: JungkookxReader,established relationship, possessive boyfriend Kookie 😋, Halloween party themed, public sex, teasing, edging, raw sex, creampie 😌✨
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4.3k words
"Hold up.....that's what you're wearing?"
Jungkook stops midstride as he stepped away from the steamy bathroom, the small towel shifting quickly underneath his hands as he dried his damp hair. Water still dripped down his bare chest and torso, collecting in the dips of his abs and naval. His bath towel that was barely clinging to his waist shifts as his dick stiffens at the sight of your exposed skin.
You were standing in front of the wall-sized mirror beside your vanity, touching up your make up and fluffing your hair, which laid in full wavy coifs all around your head and down your back. You didn't glance over at Jungkook at the sound of his question, but a part of you knew exactly what was going on in his mind.
The two of you were attending Jimin's yearly Halloween party at his family's lake house just outside of the city. Since freshman year of college, this party was a regular thing, gaining more and popularity as time went on.
Costumes were optional, ranging from minuscule to extravagant. And the two of you tended to ride that middle line when it came to what you wore to these functions.
Well, more so you.
Jungkook could wear a brown paper bag as a costume and still turn heads. Something that before dating him was much less annoying. You stifled your distaste for what Jungkook had set out for tonight. Mainly because it was hot as fuck.
Your boyfriend's normal aesthetic consisted of dark colors, loose-fitting, and a bit emo. But tonight he was going for a bolder look.
Blood red pants that hugged his buff thighs, a matching loose blazer lined with patterned silk and print button-up that you knew would NOT be buttoned up.
He'd always had an amazing physique and filled out whatever he wore. Something you had a love/hate relationship with since making things official. And by no means were you unnattractive. You just preferred to play it cool with how you dressed as to not attract unwanted attention.
But this year, you figured it was time for you to switch it up as well.
"Hmm?" you murmur in response to the question, leaning closer to your reflection to check your lashes. You then planted a gentle hand on the mirror for support, extending your back and deepening your arch to give Jungkook and eyeful of your plump curvy backside from where he was still standing off to the side. He gawks at your voluptuousness for a few seconds before blinking away his thoughts and snapping out of it.
"Don't 'hmmm' me. Turn around." Jungkook steps up behind you, pulling you by your elbow so that you faced him. You huffed stubbornly as you turned on your heels and looked up at him with a full-on pout.
"Whaaaat Kook..." you whine, but your boyfriend isn't phased. He only examines your outfit, glancing over your shoulder at the mirror to see the way your dress stopped just below the curve of your ass cheeks. You unconsciously reached back tug at the hem to pull it only a fraction lower. Jungkook smirks but the expression doesn't meet his eyes when returns his gaze to you.
"I thought you said you were dressing up as a witch..." he quirks a brow at you.
You looked down at your outfit as if you hadn't picked it out yourself and frown innocently.
A witch, indeed you were.
Your skin-tight black dress clung to your body perfectly, accentuating every dip and curve on your somewhat petite body. The sleeves were long, wide at the opening, and hanging down from your wrists at a point. Seeming ordinary from behind, disregarding how short it was, the front of the dress was the real focal point.
A deep plunging neckline, stopping just above your navel, exposed the smooth skin of your cleavage and sternum. Thin black strings were woven through tiny holes lining the v-neck, creating diamonds up to your bust.
"I am. See?" You point to the witch hat a black pair of tall thigh-high heeled boots laying on the floor near the door and Jungkook follows your finger with his eyes. His jaw drops are the shiny leather and he does his best not to drool at the visual of you in them.
"Well...Don't you think this ...costume...is a bit much? I mean...My friends are gonna be there and..." he stammers, pausing as he returned his gaze to you.
"Aaaand..so are mine. What's your point?" you tilt your head and bat your lashes, making Jungkook clear his throat. He takes a look at the back of your body again in the mirror then stared down at the woven laces cutting down your front and between your breasts and drags his teeth over the pink flesh of his inner bottom lip.
You smirked.
"My point is...don't you have a dress that's longer than that? One that covers your ass and tits a bit more?"
You don't even attempt to stifle your scoff at his words, taking a tiny step back to look Jungkook up and down. Which might have been a mistake considering he was still naked and incredibly tempting.
But you held your scowl as you continued.
"Did I say anything about your costume last year? Or now? What the hell are you supposed to be anyway?" you fold your arms over your chest.
Jungkook narrows his brow and shrugs before pointing to the bed, where his outfit was draped over the comforter.
"I'm a vampire...see?" pointing with emphasis at the set of fake fangs placed next to the collar of his blazer. Your eyes follow his hand and you roll your eyes at the tiny white fangs.
"And last year was different. Last year, you weren't mine..." Jungkook pulls your gaze from the bed with his tone as he continues with a pout.
"Are you saying you don't like it what I'm wearing?" you say and Jungkook snorts, reaching up to rub at his nape with a conflicted expression.
"Babe.....is that a serious question? It doesn't matter if I like it or not. I don't know...I just don't want you to be uncomfortable...."  he drops his hand and steps up to close the gap between you, glancing over your shoulder again to stare at your ass.
When you notice the crease of uncertainty in his expression, you let out a sigh.
"Well.....would you be uncomfortable if I wore this?" you gazed up at him. Feeling your eyes, Jungkook tears his away from your reflection.
"Huh? What?...no...Im just saying.." he stammers, his eyes still flitting back to the mirror at your outfit and you can't help but be amused by his distracted features.
You knew you were playing with fire. But tonight was supposed to be fun. So after allowing him to oggle you for a few more seconds, you turn around to face the mirror with a smirk. Jungkook watched you fluff your hair, smudge your dark lips together, and cup at your cleavage to make sure everything was as it should be. Then you locked eyes with his and shrugged.
"Then I'm wearing it. Hurry up and get dressed. We're already late...."
As you turned to walk away from the mirror, you yelp in surprise when you feel Jungkook yanking your arm back, turning you and pressing you against the glass forcefully.
"Jungkook what are you...ah.." your voice trails off into a moan when you feel the front of your dress being lifted. Jungkook nudges at your foot with his, making you spread your legs and grant him access to the apex of your thighs.
Your breathing hitched when you felt his fingers grazing the thin fabric of your panties, the tip of his middle finger drawing a line over the slit of your lips teasingly.
"You don't think...I'm insecure? Do you?" his voice drops an octave, almost to a rasp, and your bottom lip trembles as you struggled to find your words.
"Hmm?" Jungkook questions as he lifted his hand to let it slip under the elastic and down beneath the lace. When his hand makes contact with your sex you gape at the feeling.
"N..No..." you stammer as Jungkook rubs your pussy gently, not trying to focus his touch on any particular area just yet.
"Good...because I'm not...because I already know this..." he pauses as he presses his middle finger down over your clit, creating that pressure and friction your boxy craved.
"...is all mine. You know that right?" Jungkook says slowly, matching the pace of how he rubbed your swollen bud with intent.
You braced your hands at his strong shoulders, moaning softly in response, encouraging Jungkook to up his efforts.
"Mine?" he repeats, leaning closer to kiss your lips tenderly. He pulls back to catch your reaction to his touch, dipping his fingers through your slit to lubricate his actions over your clit over and over until your mouth gapes.
You knew he was waiting for you to respond...
But who could talk with a hand stuffed into their panties like that?
His finger repeated the teasing action on your clit and whimper softly, making Jungkook smile.
"Wear whatever you want baby...Just remember who you belong to,"  he says softly, leaning in briefly to press his lips to your forehead. As he did, you were barely aware of his fingers abandoning your clit until you felt them gliding past your entrance, plunging deep inside of you.
You gasp at the sudden intrusion, letting your head tilt back to hit the glass as Jungkook trailed feather-light kisses down the side of your face and neck, his fingers curling inside of you as he rubbed at the rigid wet flesh.
"This is mine?" he murmurs against your throat, parting his lips to draw his tongue over your pulse, already getting in character for tonight it seems. His teeth graze your skin and your knees start to weaken at the pace of his fingers.
"Mmhmm" you hum in response, pressing your lips together to keep from crying out. Your breathing quickened and your eyes began to roll as you felt your fuse beginning to burn out. The familiar heat building deep inside of you, the tingle of sensation signaling the nearing of your release.
Jungkook chuckles softly as he bit down on your neck and sucked it gently as his fingers began to move faster against your spot until he could feel your walls clenching hard around him, almost pushing him out as you came on his hand.
"That's my girl..." he hissed as you cried out, shaking and digging your nails into his shoulders as his fingers slowed inside of you.
Jungkook slowly pulls his hand away and lifts his head to catch your blissful expression.
Red cheeks and glossy eyes.
Smeared black lipstick beyond the line of your mouth from biting your lips.
You were so perfect to him despite all of it.
He glares down at you with fondness and adoration, his freshly scrubbed skin glowing a smooth tan underneath the lights of your bedroom, and the ever intoxicating scent of his body wash and shampoo fills your senses. You resist the urge to bite your lip as your eyes skimmed over the smooth marbled flesh of his chest, only inches away from your face.
"You're....an..asshole..." you murmur as you panted. Jungkook grins wickedly as he stepped away, brushing his wet hand over the towel at his hips. He bites his lip as he looked down at your trembling knees and dark panties, which were completely soaked through and dripping between you spread legs.
As you widened the gap to keep your dress from getting wet, Jungkook backs away still grinning as he began to dress. He pulls his underwear up beneath his towel, tossing it aside before reaching for his pants.
He cuts you a brief look as he dressed and smirks.
"Looks like you'll have to take those off....."
Jimins house was packed. Cars lined the street and driveway and music could be heard all the way down road. It was a good thing they were deep in the woods, otherwise, there would have been a plethora of noise complaints plaguing the local police station.
The two of you entered the large house hand in hand, greeted happily by mutual friends and classmates. There were many new faces among the familiars, many people not in actual costumes. The looks of wanting and approval of Jungkooks "costume" didnt go unnoticed by you. But neither did the gawks and stares of appreciation for your curves in your dress go unnoticed by your date.
He played it cool though.
Jungkook's behavior wasnt too peculiar as the night progressed. Sure he stayed on your ass majority of the night, dancing closely and holding you by the waist or clutching your hand possessively. But you didn't mind the attention. You absolutely loved it when Jungkook got like this.
He was absolutely the jealous and possesive type but in a healthy way. He never stopped you from being you. But he also had his own ways of coping with it. And he intended on letting you feel how much the attention your costume was drawing was effecting him.
The fact that he knew you still werent wearing panties didnt help that either.
As Jimins house grew more and more crowded, and your feet were beginning to feel sore from dancing and standing in those heels, you and Jungkook eventually found large plushy love seat in farthest corner of the living room.
You were seated comfortably between Jungkooks legs, your back to his front, vibing out and mingling with friends as they passed.
After a while, as the alcohol really began to settle in, you found yourself nestling against your boyfriends hard chest and mumbling along to whatever song was playing.
Jungkook held you close, cradling you in his lap, rubbing at the exposed skin of your thighs gently as his buzz deepened.
"i looove this song.." You groaned out suddenly as the musc changed and a sultry guitar began strumming and the smooth vocals filled the wide space.
Jungkook lifted his brow as you pushed up from his chest to sit up and let your feet touch the floor.
You slowly began dancing from where you were perched on his lap, humming the melody drunkenly and winding your hips in slow circles to the beat. You felt Jungkooks body stiffen slightly beneath you and you smiled inwardly at the feel of his hands slowly coming up to grip you at your waist.
"Hey Beautiful.....what are you doing...." Jungkook says to you, his chest vibrating against your back as you continued to grind back against his lap.
"Babe....." Jungkook he sighs in your ear, a warning in his voice evident as you reached back to touch his hair, still snaking your body to the beat.
"Dont think you can tease me baby..." you hear and feel warm against your cheek as Jungkook leaned into your touch, gripping your hips and letting his hands slide over your thighs and back to your waist.
".....and dont think I wont fuck you right now....in front of everyone....Im not that drunk..." his husky whispers make you bite down on your lip, mischief sparking in your eyes and excitement strumming in your chest at the thought.
You looked around at the many people only a few feet from where you and Jungkook were tucked away. Sure the music was loud, the dim lighting and smoke was concealing them enough. But anyone could walk over to the couches to sit. Any of their friends could come over to talk. At any moment.
That alone was enough to turn you on even more. The idea of getting fucked in front of everyone and the possibility of getting caught had you clenching with need and you already knew you were beginning to drip because pf the alcohol.
Fuck it.
You ignored him as you kept rubbing your ass over him, knowing exactly what you were doing. Teasing him in small circles with your hips and letting your hair sway over your back. Seducing him with your curves and shameless lapdance as if no one was watching.
This only went on for a few seconds until you felt Jungkooks body relax, his hands at your hips gliding back to tug at the back of your dress. You gasp when you feel his warm hands on your bare ass, squeezing at your pliant skin as you continued to move.
Jungkook shifted behind you, lifting his hips just enough to unbutton his pants and push the front of his underwear down to free himself.
Your breathing hitched when you felt how hard he actually was, almost pulsing beneath your heat. Jungkook eased back in the seat, his chest heaving at the feel of you sliding the face of your pussy over his shaft, slicking his length with your wetness.
"Youre so fucking wet baby..fuck..." Jungkook murmured as you slid over him, the tip of him brushing against your clit and entrance with every movement.
You whined at the delicious tease , your hands braced on the arms of the chair as you rocked your hips back and forth. You lifted up slightly  and Jungkook takes that as his opportunity to grip himself at the base, lining the head of his dick up with your slickness and rubbing it against you gently as you moved.
Seeking permission to enter.
With hooded eyes, you glanced around at the party still occurring around the two of you. Everyone seemed completely distracted, drunk or high and under the haze of the atmosphere. Nobody even paying any attention to the horny couple in the shadowed corner of the house.
So slowly, you sank yourself down on him, a low groan and hiss of satisfaction escaping the both of you at the feel of finally being connected. You pressed yourself back until your bare ass was flush against Jungkooks pelvis. The stretch inside of you was welcome, your walls already quivering and trembling around him. They ached for more. They ached for stimulus. They ached for movement.
So you obeyed your body and began to wind your hips again, rising a few inches and sliding back down.
"Fuck..."Jungkook grit his teeth and shut his eyes tight at the feel of you taking him, your body swallowing him and enveloping him with your warmth. Out of reflex, Jungkook thrusted upward to meet your stroke.
You couldnt stifle the moan of surprise at the feel of Jungkooks tip hitting hard at the very back of your desire. It almost hurt but the pain quickly subsided when you felt Jungkook shift behind you.
The chair begins to recline a bit, allowing Jungkook to lean back enough so that his range of motion was extended. And just when you were about to continue riding him, he holds you still by the waist and starts flexing his hips up into you.
Jungkook fucks you deep but agonizingly slow, stroking your body to the soothing rhythm of the song drowning out your moans.
He felt so good, too good. And you bowed your head in an attempt to hidd your face from those in front of you. But you didnt hinder your moans of pleasure as you tried your best to fuck back against Jungkooks deep strokes.
Jungkooks bottom lip stung from his bite, the skin trapped between his teeth as he focused all of us strength into his core and legs as he rammed into you. His hands were digging into your hips, squeezing you and holding your body in place as he chased your high. You were so close, your walls clenching him in and your head falling back as you cried out.
Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes and your vision fell out of focus as Jungkook hit your spot with ferocity and it only takes a few more strokes for you to explode around him.
You felt Jungkook sitting up to wrap his arms around your waist, still moving inside of you but more staccato as he relished in the feel of your cresting orgasm.
You felt his shallow breathe at your ear and your head lolls weakly to lean back against his as Jungkook slipped in and out of your walls.
"Mine?...This is mine?" His husky tone sends a chill down your spine,adding to the overwhelming combination of sensations already rushing over your flushed skin.
You moaned softly in response, biting your lip and tightening around him as if that were the answer and Jungkook groans low in his chest as his strokes became stagnant. He held you close, trapping your body against his as he spilled himself deep inside of you.
You felt the warmth of his seed coating your walls and another shiver hits your when you feel Jungkooks lips at your ear. His breathing was heavy and his mouth was hot. His teeth nibbled at your lobe softly before he parted his lips to speak
"Kiss me.." he exhales and you immediately turn your head, craning your neck back to lock lips with Jungkook sloppily.
He slowly loosens his arms around you, letting his hands slide back to hold you at your waist as he kissed you. His tongue tasted like green apple jolly rancher and tequila, rolling and twisting with yours, humming low in his throat.
Your walls contracted around Jungkook reflexively when you felt his hand circling your throat gently, coaxing you and leading the kiss as he softened inside you.
The air surrounding the two of you felt thicker, every sound and movement suspended in a place apart from where you were. In this corner, in the house full of people..
The two of existed in a little bubble of bliss on the couch in the shadows. Kissing each other tenderly and passionately, wrapped in Jungkooks strong arms as you leaned back against him.
As if it were instinctive, your eyes open to notice someone approaching the corner and you break the kiss just your little bubble of love is popped by..
"...shit...Taehyung! Hey!" you blurt out, forcing Jungkooks eyes to open wide.
Taehyung steps up through the smoke ,a red cup in hand and his eyes hooded in his half assed Joker costume and stops right in front of the loveseat.
"Tae..Bro...whats up?" Jungkook sits up, repositioning you on his lap and pulling your dress down as much as he could. The movement makes you even more aware of the fact that Jungkooks dick was still inside of you, trapping majority of his dripping cum from drizzle out of you as you both looked up at a drunk and oblivious Taehyung.
"You guys are so fucking cute...its gross" he chuckles, tipping his cup up to take a sip. He takes a long draft of his drink and swallows before continuing.
"Anyway...Jungkook! We're setting up for a round of beer pong in the back. How bout it? Me and you vs Jimin and Hobi..." he slurs loudly over the music.
"Cool. Yea...We'll be right out..." Jungkook yells in response, masking his annoyance seamlessly and Taehyung nods. He shoots you a knowing wink before turning away and youre eyes widen.
He didn't know what had just occurred over here....did he?
You dont have much time to ponder over the thought though.
As soon as he disappeared among the crowd, Jungkook was lifting you from his lap and guiding you to stand, still holding you at your waist. The moment his dick slipped out of you, you pressed your thighs together as tight as you could.
The walk to the nearby bathroom was comical, the two of you shuffling closely with one in front of the the other. Both sheilding each others wet and soiled areas until you reached the privacy of the bathroom.
After doing the necessary things one must do after spontaneous raw couch sex, you were standing in front of the sink assessing your appearance as Jungkook stood wide legged nearby over the toilet with his head back.
"Well...This dress is done for." you huff at your reflection, the seat of the black fabric stained with sex and release. Jungkook lifts his head and gazes over at you and grunts in amusement as he flushed.
His eyes fell to the back of your dress that was not only stained and wet, but parts of it were ripped and stretched beyond repair.
"Here.." he says as he turns to you at the sink while you turn to face him curiously.
Without a thought, he removes his red blazer and drapes it over your shoulders.
"There...We're going outside anyway and Im kind of over Taehyung staring at your ass." he mumbles bitterly as he fixed the garment over your petite body.
You smirk at his jealous remark.
"He can look... But he knows who I belong to.." you arch your brow and Jungkook mirrors you as he placed his hands at your waist beneath his blazer. He pulls your forward into his chest and reaches lower to cup your ass cheeks.
"Act like you fucking know then...." he growls as he dipped his neck to hover over your lips.
You lift your chin to plant a few soft kisses to them, rolling your eyes and giggling against him when he squeezed you harder.
"....that is too bad about the dress though...."he murmurs as he pulled away, loosening his grip on your ass and stepping back to look down at your body.
"I kinda liked it..."
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ixiot-ghostrebel · 11 months
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Another sagau reader hearing someone insulting characters and going apeshit but when someone insults reader are like "......hmm shodul I drink hot chocolate or tea today?" This time ganyu( becose I still pissed at one guy who insulted her i her own story quest) bennet and nilou (another chance to make azar feel terror)
COMING RIGHT UP, ANON. THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING OMG 💀 I have been too dead without these requests, fr.
Click Me For Part 1!
When Someone Insults Ganyu, Bennett, and Nilou vs When Someone Insults Reader...
(Disclaimers: Might Be OOC, Mentions of Violence, & Quest/Genshin Impact Lore Spoilers!)
Ganyu
Okay, first of all: Yes, I am adding that stupid idiot cough Xin Cheng cough into this.
You were just following the Traveler and Paimon, joining Ganyu's Story Quest which, for some reason, was not completed yet. So, you decided to tag along to see Ganyu!
You weren't hyped when that beggar came out of nowhere and started to do all that fairytale stuff even you don't approve of—and you were someone that sticks themselves into your own head, thank you very much.
So when this man started to gain the audacity to insult Ganyu, you knew you had to step up and do something. No one, and you quite mean it, was going to insult her and get away with it.
"Hey!" You came out from your hiding spot (you're the Almighty Creator, you know it'll make the situation worse). "Just what the hell do you think you're doing, huh?"
Xin Cheng pales at the sight of your enraged figure. He stutters to make an excuse, but you cut him off. You're having none of it.
"Get your useless self out of here, before I decide to kick it down the mountains myself!"
To say that Ganyu was shocked that you were getting angry over a mortal was an understatement. She was beyond surprised that you even stood up for her.
But she did have to intervene with your threatening—after all, she is still an Adeptus. Protecting the people of Liyue was still her duty.
"Your Grace...Please let him go. I'm sure he already understands his mistake." Ganyu's soft voice only made your anger increase—she sounded so upset!
"Y-yes, please, Your Grace! I understand what I've done wrong, I—"
"Silence." You glare down at the mortal. Your turn back to Ganyu, and considered your choices. While you wanted to wreck absolute vengeance on this man, you also didn't want to hurt Ganyu's feelings more.
Guess you were going down Trauma Lane, then. You sigh, and stomp your feet as you turn around to glare at Xin Cheng, catching his petite form by surprise.
"If I ever see you do this again..." Your eyes narrow. "Believe me when I say it—you will be granted no mercy by any adeptus nor Rex Lapis himself. Now SCRAM!" With that, he was running for the hills. You weren't entirely satisfied, but you'll take it. For now.
What would Happen if Ganyu heard you get insulted? Well, first of all, she would gasp quietly to herself. What was this blasphemy? She's utterly horrified.
Ganyu thinks she might faint once she realizes you were nearby, checking out vendor goods next to where the gossipers were spilling terrible insults of your image.
"Y-Your Grace! Please accept my apology on behalf of the people of Liyue." Will literally run up to you and apologize for them. While she may not be the one who did it, she's still cares about the People of Liyue—and thus her reasoning as to why she's askign for the mercy of the Almighty Creator.
Your puzzled look turns to Ganyu. "Who are you apologizing for?" Ganyu blinks.
"The, uhm—the gossipers..?" You're still confused, until your eyes shine once recognition hits you like Truck-Kun.
"Ohhh, those dudes! Yeah, don't worry about them—they're pretty boring, saying the same thing like a broken record. Say—wanna shop with me? I'm paying, of course."
And that's how you got Ganyu to be more comfortable around you! :D
Bennett
Ah, our unlucky yet optimistic adventurer! This boy—he is good. He's cool, and he's rather awed by most of the kids in Mondstadt.
He was hanging out with Razor and Fischl when someone decides to insult him. this genuinely upsets him—after all, they were insulting his ability and his position in the Adventurer's Guild...
Already, Razor and Fischl were already up to defend him, but what they didn't expect is for the Almighty Creator (aka you) got to it first.
"I beg your pardon," you say through gritted teeth. "How exactly is having a bad luck aura got to do with ANYTHING related to being an adventurer?" You're glaring so many daggers you could practically say you were breaking all the walls. "Perhaps we'll see just how lucky you are when I send you to Dragon Spine and watch your dead corpses FREEZE TO DEATH?"
The insulters were paling the more you went on. Razor and Fischl aren't sure what to do—you're already there, dealing with the situation.
But Bennett? Well uh, like usual, his bad luck got the best of him, and he accidentally stumbles towards you (miraculously). He bumps into you, and you shift your gaze onto him.
"Uh—Sorry, Your Grace! I really didn't mean to bump into you, I swear!" Poor guy is scared because his bad luck affected him at the worst time of all. He thinks he might get killed.
You though? Oh, hell nah. Your gaze already soften, and you decided to show favoritism! You pull the boy into a hug, glaring at the insulters one more time as a warning to scram, before you go back to enjoying giving the boy affection!
But when Bennett hears you get insulted? Well, first of all, screw his bad luck because the insulters were quite literally telling him how bad of a Creator you were!
He immediately tries to avoid getting too deep into the discussion, trying to sway the topic elsewhere to no avail, and he pales when he realizes you were literally a few steps away from them!
And it seems his bad luck gets in the way again, because you just turned right as he was staring at you with shocked eyes!
However, instead of being mad, you were actually beaming when you see him. You wave at Bennett, smiling.
"Bennett! Help me choose some flowers, yeah?"
"Uhm—uh, Sure, Your Grace!"
And that's how the insulters were hiding in their homes for the rest of their lives as you merrily dragged Bennett out of that horrendous conversation.
Nilou
Honestly, do I need to say who decided to insult this amazing dancer?
Yes, it was fricking Azar again. What is up with this crazy old man, nobody knows. Perhaps you should put him in prison for a while until he's gained a sense of appreciation for the Arts. ALL of the Arts.
Apparently, when you had drilled fear into this man, he thought it only applied to flipping Nahida. As much as you love Nahida, you are not going to have Azar twists your words and make it seem like you grant him permission to snark down other people—especially the people of Zubayr Theater.
So when Azar finally decides to have scholars gain the nerve to insult Nilou on behalf of his stupid brain, you (of course) just had to get yourself involved with this.
"Excuse me, but since when did you have the audacity to judge someone else's profession of art, simply because it isn't 'academic' in any way?" You spat. "Where I come from, Art courses are necessary in order to move on in your academic life." When Nilou hears you, she, first of all, is grateful of you stepping up for her, and, second of all, very scared of what might be happening next.
The scholars pale, but they seem to have taken your comment as a debate.
"With all due respect, Your Grace, the Arts are anything but educational—"
"Was I looking for a second opinion, dimwit?" You narrow your eyes. "Besides, have you yourself ever tried the Art of Dancing or the Art of Music before?"
"Well—uhm, no, but—"
"Then shut up, then." The scholars begin to panic as your voice becomes low and dangerous. "You don't have an excuse to be judgmental if you haven't even tried this stuff yourself."
"Ex-Sage Azar told us to say this!" They blurt out, and that only increases your rage. Seeing that things might escalate, Nilou steps in.
"Your Grace, let's not be too harsh!" She exclaims, waving her hands frantically. "I'm sure they understand what they did wrong. There's no need to have them punished." You narrowed your eyes in disagreement, for a half second, Nilou thought she made the situation worse.
But when you sigh heavily, she knew you relented. You glare at the scholars again.
"Tell Azar if he does this again, to ANYONE, I'll cut his head off, and there's no more excuses there. In fact—bring me to him. I'll have a talk with him myself."
Yeah, Azar got traumatized again :)
But when Nilou hears you be insulted? Quite literally behind your back? She thought she was going to faint from the gossiper's comments alone! You being there to listen it to it all only made her feel worse.
She was about to confront them, until she saw other people nearby dealing with the situation. So, Nilou decides to check up and see if you were okay...After all, those comments weren't nice.
She was pretty shocked when she realized you were contemplating over wares instead, completely unbothered by the drama going on behind your back. Nevertheless, she was still going to apologize in case you were just hiding your emotions.
"Uhm, Your Grace—I would like to apologize on behalf of all of Zubayr Theater. We should've done something earlier." You look at her, confused.
"What are you apologizing for, Nilou?" You ask. She blinks.
"Uhm, the gossipers, Your Grace..?" Your eyes widen, before you bark a laugh.
"Oh, those dudes! Yeah—don't worry about them, honestly. Say—help me pick: should I get hot chocolate or tea from this lovely store?"
Let's just say you had a fun time hanging out with Nilou for the rest of the afternoon :)
AND THAT'S IT! WE ARE DONE! I AM SO SORRY FOR BEING INACTIVE AND TAKING 30+ YEARS TO FINISH THIS, BUT IT'S HERE! :D I HOPE YOU ALL ENJOYED IT!
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Ghost Rebel Side Notes: To anyone who's waiting for The Lost Shining God of Celestia, yes I have been writing on it. However, due to personal life problems and other IRL circumstances, it's taking a little longer than expected. I am sorry, everyone!
✦ Check out The Ghost Rebel’s Blog Description & Info Page to See if Their Mailbox is Open! ✦
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non-stop-imagines · 5 months
Note
Can we please have a blurb for my biggest fan where the baby has her first Karting lesson or event and she's scared so she goes crying to charles for comfort.
I love hearing from you and I love this idea. And I love Dad!Charles. 😚💕
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Karting Woes
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Black Mom!Reader
Word Count: maybe 400 words (I didn't check) and an insta smau
Warning: Fluff, truly just fluff, Dad!Charles that we all deserve, Gia crying and being worried, a cute little ending 😘
A/N 3: man petite souris = my little mouse;
______♥_____
"Okay, okay. Let's go find Charles." You and Gia weaved your way through the crowd of children of various ages and their parents, knowing you would find Charles with Gia's kart, looking it over one last time. Gia was holding your hand tightly as you guided her through the crowd, but she immediately lets go and scurries over to Charles once she sees him, tears streaming down her face.
"Petite souris, why the tears?" He picked her up and lets her arms wrap tightly around his neck as he gave you a wide eyed look, briefly glancing at the crying child in his arms.
"She just came to me and said she needed to talk to you." You take a step closer to run your hand down the two braids that you had put in your daughter's hair.
"I can't remember *hic* where to break *hic* and the racing line *hic* for turn 3. And-and I don't know if I-I'm gonna do good and that if I-I d-don't do good you and m-mama will be mad..." Charles is quick to hush the spiralling child in his arms.
"Woah, woah. Okay. First, breathe. Here put your hand on my chest." He took her tiny hand and placed it on this chest, then began to take a long breath in, allowing his chest to lift exaggeratedly so the child knew to follow suit. Gia tried, but continued to suck in small gasps of air, a bit further from the verge of crying, but still in the verge. So Charles placed her back on the ground, kneeling so he could be eye level with her, and engulfed both of her hands in his to bring them to his chest. "Ah, try again, mon petit souris. In..." This time she does as told, taking a deep, long, exaggerated breath in, puffing out her cheeks and raising her shoulders in the process which made you look over and see that Charles had done the same. Charles then counted to 5 with his fingers before letting out his breath, the small child mimicing the action. "Better?" Gia nods while Charles brings his hand down one of her braids, guiding the end in front of her shoulder. "Okay. Now, what is this about me and your mom being mad at you?"
"That if I don't good you and Mama will be mad at me..." Gia played with her fingers as she quietly spoke, looking up at Charles after receiving a light kiss on the top of her head.
"Gianna...are you having fun?" You daughter nods and Charles continues. "You want to go out there and try your very best, oui?" Another nod. "Well, then there is nothing your mom could be mad about. This is your first race, mon petit souris. All we want is for you to go out there, learn, and have a good time. Bon?" His hands had traveled back down to your daughter's, grasping them and gently wiggling her arms.
"Bon. But, but what what about my nerves?" You're daughter's little voice chirped, making you want to cry more than you already wanted to.
"You being nervous means you care, and it is the greatest doing something you care so much about, I promise." He brings Gia into him for a hug and rapid fire light kisses on the top of her head. "And the, uh, second thing?" Charles knew exactly what the second concern was for your daughter but he liked allowing Gia to voice her own concerns. It has saved the both of you many whiney tantrums.
"Turn 3. I can't remember the racing line or where to brake." Gia takes a flat hand and rubs some pieces of hair back that were tickling her forehead as she turned toward the track, pointing at the curve in question.
"Okay, let's go take a look." Charles stands straight up and hold out his hand that Gia quickly accepts. What you don't expect was for Gia's other hand to blindly reach out for yours, which you take, following them to the track so he could go over the information again. Gia held on to your hand with an unwavering grip as she watched Charles' hand move fluidly to give visual to his instruction, her full attention on him, nodding intermittently as he spoke. And you watched to, but your mind blocked out the words and only observed how your boyfriend's hands mimiced the curve and the motion of driving, seeing how his bracelets and rings made the image that much sweeter for you. The sight was what dreams were made of, as a mother and a girlfriend.
"You feel a little better about that corner?" Charles turns back to Gianna who was nodding up at him.
"Yeah, I feel better." Gia turns briefly to look at you and then turns back to Charles quickly as if she forgot something. "Oh! Merci, Charles." You let go of Gia's hand so Charles could pick her up again.
"De rien, ma petite souris." He looked at her as she continued to analyze the tricky curve. Proud to be here in this moment with her and for her to trust him so much, and wondering what he did in his life to deserve this. "Do you still need to finish your warm up? Have you done the bands yet?" Gia shakes her head, her small braids whipping around. "Alright, let's go."
"I'm gonna head back to the chairs." You decide to give them their bonding time, stopping to give Charles the kiss he leaned in for after setting Gia back on the ground.
"Okay, I'll be over there in a minute." One more kiss and then he was off with your daughter back to the white tents being used as garages, your daughter now skipping along having forgotten all of her woes from minutes before.
______♥_______
You watched as all the kids began to line up on the grid, with Gia lining up P11, her vibrant pink helmet and red race suit combination not making it difficult to point her out. Charles' arms snaked around your waist, making you flinch but settle into his body once you saw it was him. "How was she?"
"She was fine. I don't even think she remembers what she was nervous about." You let out a singular breathy chuckle as he gave you small pecks behind the ear, everyone now waiting for the race to begin. "I think she'll do fine."
"You're a good dad, you know?" You meant your words, but you knew that they would have Charles floating on Cloud 9, probably for the rest of the week. You knew how much he liked being a dad and how much he cared about being a good father figure to Gianna, so sometimes you would just remind him that he was doing a good job. You also liked to see how flustered he got.
He brought his fingers to your chin to guide your face to look at him, a cheeky grin on your face that he couldn't help but kiss. "Merci, ma cherie." You both turn back to the track as the your daughter's first race begins.
yourusername
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Liked by susie_wolff and 98,389 others
yourusername I'd say going from 11th to 6th in your first race is pretty good. Mama is so proud of you Gia. 😚♥️
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charles_leclerc Super proud ♥️♥️
>yourusername Super proud of you for not crying for too long after she crossed the finish line 😘
>charles_leclerc She did so good 😭😭
user1 So proud of our baby!🥳
>yourusername Gia says thank you to all of her internet aunties and uncles 😁
susie_wolff You have to bring Gia out to practice with Jack sometime!
>yourusername Booking the flight right now! I would take any chance I can get to spend some time with the Wolff's ♥️
>susie_wolff Text me so we can set it up!! ♥️♥️
>user2 I don't think the world would survive the power surge that would be produced from these two linking up
scuderiaferrari We love a good Lewink 😉
>yourusername Any day you get a Lewink is a good day 😘
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