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#I'm so glad she takes like no time at all to pick back up that first one was was me relearning how to draw her
cry4tzu · 3 days
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Love Amidst Persecution
Son chaeyoung x farmer female reader
Synopsis- loving someone even though its forbidden
Warning- takes place in the 17 century, mention of hanging, fuck chae father in this story, mention of homophobia
A/n- happy chae day
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In the small, idyllic town of Springfield, nestled amidst the lush, rolling hills of the countryside, the air was thick with anticipation. The sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm, golden light over the fields, where the crops swayed gently in the breeze. A sense of peace and contentment filled the air, as if everything was as it should be.
The people of Springfield went about their daily routines, oblivious to the events that was about to unfold in the future . Young lovers strolled hand-in-hand through the cobblestone streets, children laughed and played in the town square, and merchants busily set up their stalls, displaying their wares for all to see.
Seo y/n was a 17th century farmer girl, her hands calloused from the soil and her cheeks permanently flushed from the sun. Her home was nestled in the heart of the town, surrounded by lush fields and chattering streams. Life was simple, yet fulfilling, as she tended to her crops and cared for her livestock.
As she walked through the rows of corn, wheat, and potatoes, she hummed a cheerful tune, her basket swinging gently at her side. Suddenly, she heard a rustling nearby and stopped in her tracks. There, in the distance, she saw a figure approaching. As they drew closer, Y/N realized it was Son Chaeyoung, the daughter of the head of the town. She looked flustered and out of breath.
"Y/N, I-I'm so sorry to bother you," she panted. "My father sent me to fetch you. He needs your help with something important at the town hall." Y/N raised an eyebrow, skeptical. Chaeyoung seemed genuinely nervous, and she rarely ever saw her in the countryside. "It's nothing bad, I promise. He just wants your expertise on...on some crops that aren't doing well." Y/N hesitated, but eventually nodded. She knew Chaeyoung's father valued her knowledge and skills as a farmer. Perhaps this was a chance to strengthen their tenuous relationship.
She followed Chaeyoung back into town, her heart racing with a mixture of anticipation and fear. The town hall was bustling with activity, townsfolk rushing about, delivering messages and supplies. Chaeyoung led her to her father's garden . He looked up as they entered and smiled warmly. "Ah, Y/N. I'm glad you could join us. I'm sure you can help us figure out what's wrong with these crops."
Y/N nodded, trying to hide her unease. As she examined the wilting crops , she noticed something strange about them. "It looks like they're infested with aphids," she said, pointing to the tiny insects that were sucking the life out of the crops . Chaeyoung's father looked surprised. "Aphids? I've never seen them this far south before. Thank you, Y/N. You've been most helpful."
He gestured for her to sit down beside him, and they spent the next hour discussing farming techniques and strategies for dealing with the infestation. Y/N was surprised to find that Chaeyoung's father was actually quite knowledgeable about the subject, and they shared many stories and experiences.
When it was time for Y/N to return home, Chaeyoung walked her back to the edge of town. They stopped at a picturesque spot overlooking the valley, and Y/N offered Chaeyoung some freshly picked apples from her orchard. As they sat there, talking, enjoying the view and the crisp autumn air, Y/N felt a strange connection with Chaeyoung. It was as if they had known each other for much longer than just a few hours.
"You know," Chaeyoung said softly, breaking the silence, "my parents... they don't understand. They think that same sex relationship is wrong. That we should be with someone of the opposite sex. " Y/N looked at her, surprised. She knew what it was like to be different, to be misunderstood.
"Well, they're wrong," she said, offering Chaeyoung a reassuring smile. "You're special, and you should be with someone who sees that." Chaeyoung blushed and looked away, playing with a stray strand of hair. "I just wish... I wish they could understand." Y/N squeezed Chaeyoung's hand gently. "Time will change things, I'm sure of it."
They sat in silence for a while longer, enjoying the peacefulness of the moment. Finally, Chaeyoung stood up, brushing the dirt from her skirt. "I should get back. Thank you again for your help today, Y/N. It means a lot." She leaned in and kissed Y/N's cheek before walking away.
Y/N watched her go with a smile, feeling a warmth in her chest that she hadn't experienced in a long time. As the sun began to dip below the horizon, casting the world in a golden glow, she couldn't help but feel hopeful. Maybe things would change between Chaeyoung and her parents. Maybe they would come to understand that love had no boundaries, no rules.
She gathered up the remains of the picnic and started back towards her home, lost in thought. The image of Chaeyoung's face, the way she smiled and blushed, filled her mind. The way chaeyoung looks so effortlessly gorgeous.
As she neared her orchard, the setting sun cast a warm glow over the apple trees, turning their leaves into a symphony of reds and golds. She stopped for a moment, taking in the beauty of the scene, and realized that perhaps this was what love was all about. It wasn't just about being with someone you cared for, but about finding beauty and joy in the world around you.
The next few months passed by in a blur of activity. Y/N spent every spare moment helping Chaeyoung's father tend to their crops. After that she would meet up with chaeyoung. where they would shared stories, laughter, and even a few tears. Each time they parted ways, they promised to see each other soon, their words filled with hope and longing.
Despite the challenges they faced, they found solace in each other's company. They talked about their dreams for the future, about the places they wanted to visit and the things they wanted to achieve. Y/N found herself inspired by Chaeyoung's determination and resilience, while Chaeyoung admired Y/N's strength and independence. They were, in many ways, complements of each other.
One afternoon, as they sat beneath the shade of an ancient apple tree, talking about accident that their friend dahyun made, Chaeyoung leaned in and kissed Y/N. It was a soft, tender kiss that left them both breathless. For a moment, they forgot about everything else and were lost in the moment. When they finally pulled apart, they looked into each other's eyes, their faces flushed with emotion.
"I've wanted to do that for so long," Chaeyoung murmured, running her fingers through Y/N's hair.
Y/N smiled and leaned in, kissing Chaeyoung tenderly. The sunlight filtered through the leaves above them, dappling their skin with shadows and light. The warmth from Chaeyoung's body felt so right against hers, and Y/N couldn't help but feel a sense of peace wash over her. They kissed for what seemed like hours, lost in the moment, the world around them fading away.
Eventually, they pulled apart, breathless and flushed. Y/N reached up to brush a strand of hair from Chaeyoung's face, her fingers trembling slightly. "I feel the same way," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the rustling of the leaves. "I've wanted this for so long."
They lay there for a moment, their hearts racing, the world around them seeming to slow down. Chaeyoung traced the line of Y/N's jaw with her finger, marveling at the softness of her skin. "I never thought I'd find someone like you," she murmured, her voice thick with emotion. "Someone who understands me, and who I can be myself around."
Y/N smiled, her heart swelling with love for Chaeyoung. "And I never thought I'd find someone who could make me feel this way," she replied, reaching up to run her fingers through Chaeyoung's hair. "Who could make me forget about everything else and just be happy."
They lay there for a while longer, lost in each other's company, enjoying the simple pleasures of their love. The sun began to sink lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the orchard. Eventually, they sat up, brushing the grass from their clothes. Y/N glanced around, noticing how the trees seemed to sway gently, as if they were moving to some unheard melody.
"Come with me," Y/N said, taking Chaeyoung's hand. "I want to show you something."
She led Chaeyoung through the rows of apple trees, the evening air cool against their skin. As they walked, the branches overhead swayed gently, creating a natural canopy that cast dappled shadows across their path. They emerged from the orchard and found themselves at the edge of a small meadow, dotted with wildflowers and tall grasses. A small stream trickled nearby, its waters sparkling in the fading light. grasses swaying in the gentle breeze. The sky above was a deep, vibrant blue, speckled with puffy white clouds.
"This is my favorite spot," Y/N said, her voice soft with affection. "I used to come here when I needed some peace and quiet. It's where I felt closest to nature, and to myself."
Chaeyoung smiled, her eyes taking in the beauty around them. "It's beautiful here," she murmured, her voice barely audible over the sound of the stream. "It's like a secret oasis, hidden away from the world."
Y/N nodded, feeling a sense of peace wash over her as she looked out over the meadow. "I used to come here when I needed to clear my head, or when I just wanted to feel close to something bigger than myself." She glanced at Chaeyoung, her cheeks flushing slightly. "I never imagined I'd find someone who could make me feel this way, though."
Chaeyoung smiled, stepping closer to Y/N. "Neither did I," she replied softly, reaching up to brush a strand of hair from Y/N's face. "But I'm so glad we found each other." She paused, her gaze meeting Y/N's. "Because now I feel like anything is possible."
They stood there in silence for a moment, the sounds of the meadow and the stream providing a gentle background hum. Y/N leaned in, their breath mingling as she pressed her lips to Chaeyoung's. The kiss was tender and sweet, a perfect expression of the love they shared. As they pulled apart, Y/N's heart swelled with happiness, and she knew that no matter what challenges they might face in the future, they would face them together.
They stood there in the middle of the meadow, basking in the glow of their love, as the sun dipped below the horizon. The air grew cooler, and a gentle breeze rustled through the trees, carrying with it the scent of autumn. Y/N wrapped her arms around Chaeyoung, feeling grateful for the warmth and comfort she provided.
"Do you remember the first time we met?" Y/N asked, looking up at Chaeyoung with a smile.
Chaeyoung laughed softly, her cheeks flushing. "Of course I do. You were so quiet and shy, but you had this way about you that just drew me in. I couldn't help but want to get to know you better."
They stood there for a moment, lost in their memories, before Chaeyoung turned her attention back to the present. She looked around the meadow, feeling grateful for the peace and serenity that surrounded them. "I never thought I'd find a place like this," she said, her voice barely audible. "A place where I could be truly happy."
Y/N squeezed Chaeyoung's hand, her grip firm yet gentle. "You are my happiness," she replied, leaning in to press a soft kiss to Chaeyoung's cheek. "And I'm yours. No matter what the future holds, we'll face it together."
Their time in the meadow seemed to stretch on forever, the hours passing unnoticed as they reveled in the comfort and love they shared. As the last rays of sunlight disappeared beyond the horizon, the stars began to twinkle in the darkening sky. A chill crept into the air, prompting them to move closer together for warmth.
Y/N leaned against Chaeyoung, her head resting on the girl's shoulder as they gazed up at the stars. "Do you have a favorite constellation?" she asked softly, her voice barely audible above the rustling of the leaves in the trees.
Chaeyoung shrugged. "I've always liked Orion's Belt," she replied, her breath tickling Y/N's ear. "It reminds me of when we first met. It was like fate, you know? Like the stars were aligning just for us."
Y/N smiled, her heart swelling at the mention of their meeting. "That's a beautiful way to think about it," she said softly. "I think I'll always remember that night too. It feels like a dream sometimes, being with you like this."
As they continued to watch the stars, the sounds of the forest began to fade away, replaced by the soft rustling of leaves as a gentle breeze picked up. The air grew colder still, but neither of them seemed to notice or mind. They were content just being together, wrapped in each other's warmth and love.
"Do you ever wonder what it would be like," Y/N asked, her voice barely audible over the whispering of the trees, "if we could travel to each of those stars? To see the worlds they're part of, the people who live there?" She felt a shiver run down her spine as she imagined the vastness of the universe, the endless possibilities that lay before them.
Chaeyoung paused for a moment, considering the question. The stars above them seemed to dance in the darkness, their twinkling light casting a soft glow over the meadow. "I think it would be incredible," she finally replied, her voice tinged with awe. "But I think the best part would be coming back here, to this place. To know that no matter where we go or what we see, we'll always have each other. And this place will always be our home."
They sat in silence for a while, lost in their own thoughts and the beauty of the night. Y/N felt her heart swell with love and gratitude for Chaeyoung, for the life they shared together. She knew that their love was special, that they were meant to be together. As she looked up at the stars, she made a silent promise to herself: no matter what challenges they might face in the future, she would always fight for their love. She would never take Chaeyoung for granted, and she would do everything in her power to make her happy.
Eventually, the chill in the air grew too intense for them to ignore, and they stood, stretching their limbs and yawning. "You should go back home ," Y/N said, her voice husky with sleep. "It's getting late. And I don’t want you to get in trouble”
Chaeyoung nodded in agreement, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. She knew that the night couldn't last forever, but she didn't want to leave this place. She didn't want to leave the feeling of peace and contentment that came with being wrapped up in Y/N's love. But she also knew that if they get caught there will be consequences.
As chaeyoung was sneaking back home, she didn’t notice her father siting on the chair in the dining room.
“Where were you… let me guess out sucking the face off that bloody witch.”her father said. Chaeyoung was shocked. “Why so shocked? You thought I wouldn’t know, I have eyes on you everywhere.” he added.
“So you was spying on me, where’s the trust in that father.” Chaeyoung said. “You broke the trust as soon as you kiss that witch” he responded quickly.
“ oh bloody hell so what I like y/n what wrong about th-” she got cut off with a slap by her father.
“ you don’t like that thing, you don’t even know what love is. She must had put a spell on you to make you believe that .” he said angrily. “ she needs to pay for what she is doing to your mind” he said then went over to grab a torch. He walks out of the house. That’s when chaeyoung realizes what he means by that a rush to y/n cabin.
-
"Chaeyoung," y/n whispered, her voice barely audible. "What are you doing here? Your father gonna kill me if he found you here."
Chaeyoung knelt beside her, her eyes wide with fear and desperation. " you need to get out of here , my father is ordering the town to find you ." She wiped the tears from her face, as she gently brushing her knuckles against y/n cheek. "Please, y/n, get out of here, while you still can."
But it was too late. The sound of footsteps approaching echoed through the field. The townspeople had found them. They encircled them, their faces twisted with anger and hatred. They had found y/n, the witch who dared to love another woman especially the daughter of the town . They grabbed her roughly, tearing at her clothes, pulling her away from Chaeyoung. As they dragged her away, she struggled, desperate to reach Chaeyoung one last time, to tell her that she loved her, that it would all be alright.
"Witch! Witch! Hang her at the stake!" they cried, their faces twisted with rage and fear.
Chaeyoung followed, tears streaming down her face, her heart breaking with every step. She begged and pleaded with them to let her go, but they ignored her. They forced her to watch as they hung y/n from the gallows, her body twitching and jerking with each agonizing breath.
As y/n's life faded from her eyes, she looked down at Chaeyoung, her love, the only thing in the world that made her life worth living. "Chaeyoung," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "I love you. And I will never ever stop loving you. No matter what happens to me right now, it would never destroy my love for you." With those final words, y/n's soul left her body, as she was hanging from the tree. Chaeyoung screamed, her voice echoing through the fields, the sound of her anguish piercing the very heavens.
The townspeople, satisfied that justice had been served, turned their backs on Chaeyoung, leaving her alone to grieve. But even as they walked away, they could not escape the haunting image of the two lovers, torn apart by a world that could not understand their love. And so, their story lived on, a tragic testament to the enduring power of love, even in the darkest of times.
The sun began to set, painting the sky in shades of red and orange, as if the heavens themselves were weeping for the loss of y/n. Chaeyoung remained at the foot of the gallows, her body racked with sobs, her heart shattered into a million pieces. She clutched at the dirt, refusing to let go, as if somehow she could bring y/n back. But she knew deep down that this was not the end. There was something still pulling her forward, some unspoken promise that their love would find a way to survive.
Night fell, and the stars twinkled in the inky black sky. Chaeyoung's tears finally dried up, leaving her chest heaving with the memory of each sob. She looked up at the stars, searching for some sign, some hope that they would find a way back to each other. And as she stood there, gazing up at the heavens, she swore an oath: she would spend the rest of her life seeking out others like them, those who dared to love against the tide of public opinion. She would fight for their right to be together, to live their lives as they saw fit, free from the judgment of a world that could not understand.
Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months. Chaeyoung's determination only grew stronger, her resolve unshakeable. She became a symbol of hope for those who found themselves in her situation, a beacon of light in the darkness. And though y/n was gone, her spirit lived on through Chaeyoung, guiding her every step of the way.
Years passed, and the world began to change. Slowly, but surely, people began to see the error of their ways, to understand that love knew no bounds, no gender, no race. It was a victory of the heart over the head, of compassion over fear. And as Chaeyoung watched this transformation unfold before her eyes, she knew that her love for y/n had not been in vain. She had made a difference, however small, and for that she was eternally grateful.
Eventually, Chaeyoung found herself standing before a great crowd, addressing them with a voice that rang clear and true. "We must never forget the sacrifices that have been made for our freedom," she said, her gaze fixed on the sky, as if y/n were standing there beside her. "We must honor their memory by continuing to fight for justice, for equality, for love. For as long as there is one person left who dares to love against the tide, we will be there to fight by their side." And with that, a roar went up from the crowd, a testament to the enduring power of love and the indomitable spirit of those who dare to follow their hearts.
The years passed, and Chaeyoung grew old, but she never stopped fighting. Her story became legend, a reminder to all who heard it of the incredible strength that can be found in the human heart when it dares to love truly and fiercely. And though y/n's body was gone, her love for Chaeyoung lived on, etched into the very fabric of history, a testament to the power of the human spirit to endure against all odds.
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Okay this one's been stuck in my head all day but I have absolutely time to write it so please share this vision with me
Try as they might, Steve and Robin couldn't get tickets to Chrissy Cunningham's arena tour, but they could get tickets to a festival she was playing.
The last thing Steve ever wanted to do was go and stand in a muddy field for sixteen hours while they waited for the headline act. But he was pretty sure Robin was in love with her favourite musician, and he wasn't about to deny his best friend a chance at love.
So he helped her make personalised t-shirts because honestly all the other bands in the line-up kinda sounded like they sucked.
His read, "Only Here for Chrissy" on the front and "I'm Steve" on the back and Robin's read "Chrissy, Will You Be My Girlfriend?" on the front and "If Lost, Please Return To Steve" on the back.
And it turned out, as they stood against the barrier in a not so muddy field, on a lovely, warm, but overcast, May day, that even bands that sucked could be fun. Even if it was only because they spent their day with earplugs in, so their eardrums wouldn't combust, bitching about each artist's lack of ability to put notes or an outfit together.
During the lunchtime intermission, the pair made friends with the lesbian couple next to them, Kayla and Jess, who were also eagerly awaiting Chrissy's set and similarly liked to mock those who committed crimes against sound and fashion. Steve was glad to have met them, they were really nice, and he felt better about leaving her to use the bathroom or to fetch food, knowing Robin was in safe hands.
He also felt better about letting her wander off, not that it stopped him from stressing out when she and Kayla had been missing for over fifteen minutes. He spread himself out to keep their places against the railing with his back to the stage, watching the crowd intently. Jess wasn't quite as chatty once they were alone, but she seemed content enough, bobbing along to the band that'd appeared on the stage.
Steve didn't turn back around to face the stage until he spotted the girls heading back towards them, he gave them a wave and turned around to look at the guys who hadn't been attempting to destroy anyone's hearing and was met with the face of the most gorgeous man he'd ever seen. Pretty face, long curly hair tied up in a bun, muscle tee showing off his many tattoos, piercings and chains and glittery Docs; Steve felt himself owl blink and blush.
God's gift to mankind was kneeling centre stage, guitar in hand making the most beautiful sounds Steve had ever heard as his fingers flew over the strings, and it was only when the rest of the band kicked back in that the man looked up, winked directly at Steve, and then jumped back to his feet, spending the rest of the song bouncing around the stage.
Steve only realised his mouth was agape when Robin finally arrived next to him and elbowed him hard in the ribs, giving him the same look she did whenever he was embarrassing in the club. He watched the rest of the Corroded Coffin, according to the backdrop, set in awe. Screaming and clapping along when they wished everyone a great day, throwing picks and drumsticks into the crowd and taking a bow; patting each other on the back as they wandered offstage.
As soon as it was quiet again, Robin wanted to know what the hell was wrong with his face and honestly, he couldn't answer her. He didn't even believe in love, not for himself at least, and he certainly didn't believe in love at first sight. It didn't stop him from spending the next couple of hours watching the faces at the sides of the stage, hoping to catch a glimpse of his new favourite guitarist, though.
As soon as Chrissy hit the stage, Steve got lost, between filming the set and watching Robin trying not to hyperventilate when Chrissy spotted her t-shirt, pointed to her, and giving her a coy little wink, blew her a kiss.
"An old school friend is here with me tonight, and I'd like him to help me out with this next track. Especially for the beauty in the front row, this is Girlfriend!"
The crowd went wild as the beat kicked in, but Steve was still watching Robin because it looked like she'd stopped breathing altogether. That was until she gasped loudly and started smacking Steve in the way she always did whenever she got overly excited; pointing wildly at the stage, and it was only when he looked over he saw Corroded Coffins guitarist bouncing up and down next to Chrissy.
Instead of the black muscle vest and skinny jeans he'd been sporting earlier in the day, he had changed into pale blue board shorts and a baggy white t-shirt that read "Hey Steve!" written in black sharpie with a giant winking smiley face underneath that could only really be seen when he swung his guitar around his back to copy Chrissy's dance moves.
The song ended, and the friends hugged, Chrissy waving him off the stage and calling out, "Eddie Munson everybody!" letting the crowd go wild for her friend before launching into the rest of her set.
By the time Chrissy had actually left the stage, Robin looked exhausted, having screamed and sung and danced herself out. They hung around a bit, said goodbye to Kayla and Jess, wishing them a safe journey home, and they were just taking one last look at the now empty stage when he heard someone yell his name...
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shomixremix · 2 months
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AT MERCY OF THE SAVIOURS
this is basically just gangfucking my team in genshin. but i do have one hot team, at least!
and thank you all sm for 100 followers!! this is like a little special for that occasion hehe
tags: zhongli, itto, alhaitham, wriothesley, female! reader, smut, gangbanging, blowjob, rough sex, creampie
-> listen. i do not know how or why the ex-geo archon turned businessman, a feral demon from inazuma who says fuck you to the authorities, a badass scholar from sumeru who's done with everyone and the count of criminals from fontaine would ever be in a same place let alone doing the same thing, yet here they are, gang-fucking the reader.
(can you imagine how much smuttier this will get once i pull for neuvillette)
reqs open ♡︎ | minors DNI
"mhh, fuck, so good, doll.." wriothesley grunted as he fucked you from the back, pounding into you with a steady pace. his thick fingers squeezed your meaty hips, sternly holding you in place. his thick cock was entering, no, abusing your greedy hole, each time making sure you could feel every single one of his inches dragging harshly against your plushy walls.
you tried to moan, scream, make any sound from how good he felt - but you couldn't, not with zhongli's dick so deep in your throat.
"yes..." the ex-archon sighed, a couple of beads of sweat rolling down his forehead. "you feel otherworldly, my dear. keep on sucking like that for me, hm?"
his words thick with praise made your pussy throb and clench around the man dicking you down, your legs and arms quivering. propped up only on your hands and knees, ass met with wriothesley's balls every time he thrusted in and mouth wrapped entirely on zhongli's shaft, you weren't sure if you even had the strength to hold yourself up any more.
you were cockdrunk from the way you could feel zhongli's tip repeatedly hitting the back of your throat, your numerous moans sending vibrations through his length so deliciously. even though your mouth was entirely filled with him, you still managed to whine and whimper, a little bit of drool dripping from your mouth.
"mmpphh, zhongli! z-zhongli!!"
in the process of focusing on giving the dragon adeptus the best head of his entire immortal life, you didn't realize you were neglecting your other lover, the one who was bullying your gummy g-spot with every trust and making you cream around him for the nth time. and the duke of criminals was having none of that.
"i'm glad you think at least one of us is doing a good job at satisfying you, slut" he almost growled out a sarcastic comment, rubbing the soft cheeks of your milky ass. suddenly, he slapped it hard, bottoming out in you with a loud smack! and picking up his pace.
"hey, don't- ahh, fuck, don't talk to her like that! she's s' pretty, yeah, such a pretty girl... needs that perfect ass grabbed and fucked full, not hurt, yeah? you understand what i'm sayin', right, bro?" a familiar voice joined in on the conversation, his loud voice coming out in breathless pants as he warned wriothesley. even though you couldn't see him, you knew that the oni was watching you get fucked by these two men, roughly jerking his monster cock.
"shut it, itto" another voice chimed in, scolding the large demon. "she can take it. she's tougher than she looks; don't let those puppy-like eyes deceive you. it wouldn't even surprise me if this was what she wanted all along: to be spanked and punished as she begs for more. not to even mention the way there's four of us here and she's only paying her sweet attention to just one... i believe that behavior is suitable for a good punishment."
ahh, the all too familiar voice of the fourth man sitting beside the oni, a long cock in the scholar's hand as he slowly stroked himself to the sight of you being fucked out by the others. you whined around zhongli from how rough they were treating you, feeling a little bit guilty for neglecting wrio and putting all of your attention on the geo archon.
"they might be right, love" zhongli hums as he fucks your mouth, immensely enjoying how you take all of him in your throat so eagerly.
"you have been beyond good for me, darling, but i think it's time we let someone else take their turn, hm? i have already had my fun with you, i believe it is time i let our friend, mister wriothesley, gain your full attention... what do you think, dear?"
all you could do was let out a whine around his tip, displeased that you'll have to say goodbye to his warmth and his rock-hard cock that so nicely filled your mouth... on the other hand, you felt guilty and ashamed for neglecting wriothesley, who jealously and feverishly thrusted into you, staying quiet.
"oh, don't be like that, love... one more, and you're all mister wriothesley's. do you understand?" even though his tone made your head fuzzy, you knew damn well that was an order, a warning of some sort. you nod eagerly, sucking at his sensitive veins as you feel how the fontainian man fucks you eagerly.
"she's close, shit!" wrio hums to the rest of them, talking about you as if you weren't even there. "just finish on her face and mouth already so i can give her what she needs."
something about the thought of another spilling all of himself over your pretty face and in your plump mouth made itto's cock twitch in his hands. archons, how that thought brought feelings of jealousy mixed with excitement…
"very well" regarded zhongli, holding the back of your head as he thrusted hard in your mouth. you gave it your best to give him pleasure, gently swirling your tounge around all his most sensitive spots and relaxing the tense muscles of your throat. as soon as you relaxed and let him thrust a little deeper, zhongli groaned out your name and released his hot pleasure in your mouth. you couldn't help but eagerly gulp down everything he gave you, a little bit of it spilling from the corners of your plump lips.
you released him from your mouth with a pop! and he petted you hair, looking down at you with nothing but adoration in his tourmaline eyes.
"there. so well-behaved for me." zhongli praised through a hum, soothing your cheek gently with his thumb. his head slightly raised, now turned to the man still balls-deep inside your cushy cunt.
"she's all yours, mister wriothesley." the dark-haired man hums in acknowledgement, quickly changing your position and tossing you on your back. your hands fly to his head, gently holding him between your palms.
"mmphh, wrio.." you moan softly, your fingers gently dancing through his thick, black strands.
"oh, so now you know how to moan my name, doll?"
your hips buck up to his eagerly, begging for more movement. you were just on the very brink of your peak, sososo unbelievably close-
"need something?" he asks, completely still inside you. you nod feverishly, blabbing and moaning as you look up at his pretty, simply hypnotic eyes.
"mhm!! need to come, please wrio, need to come so bad-!"
he smirks and it's mischievous yet alluring, and it stirs something deep within you - almost a fear that he will not give you what you oh so desperately want.
"work for it, then." he simply says, in one swift motion turning you around so that you were on top, seated snuggly on his painfully hard dick.
your eyes widen as he manhandles you into a cowgirl position, his hands still bruising your hips.
"noooo" you whine, unhappy that you'll have to do all the work as he simply gets to lay back and enjoy!
"please! i can't, i don't want to, i want- mph, i just want- ohh!" you whined and begged but to no avail. his rough palms once again met your ass, giving it a spank. it hurt, but the sting of it felt so good.
"the only way you're getting anything is to do as i say, doll. now, why don't you move those pretty hips if you wanna come so badly?"
another spank, making you hiss out in pain. the demon sitting across from the both of you immediately reacted, unsure whether he could take any more of looking at you being hurt for wrio’s and alhaitham's selfish pleasure.
"hey, hey, dude! don't be sucha' asshole! i told ya', she needs to be loved on more, yeah? yeahhh, look at that pretty, fucked out face! like yeah, sure, she's bein' just a tiny bit bratty, but c'mon, other ways to solve that exist, bro! i mean, how can you deny when a woman as gorgeous and sexy as her begs you to make her cum?! simple answer - ya’ don’t! you do as she says! every idiot knows that!"
you blush at the oni's words, a warmth wrapping around you. he was so sweet, and the sight of his big palm roughly squeezing his impossibly large dick was even sweeter.
"let him do what he wishes, itto" alhaitham snarls, gently stroking himself, in contrast with his demon friend whose hand was moving up and down his shaft fast. "I understand that she’s your girlfriend, but she's on his lap, after all"
the oni grunted in defeated, mumbling something about how "it wasn't fair that it wasn't his turn yet" and "girls like you can't be treated so harshly" as he sat back down. with zhongli leaving for the baths to properly clean his skin of mixed slick, there were only three of them fucking you now. which meant itto could get his hands on you all the faster.
meanwhile, you start grinding yourself on wrio's lap, desperately trying to bounce on his cock but you can't. you're so close to your high that your pussy is greedily squeezing wrio in, and his impossible girth mixed with your neediness isn't letting you move at all. in attempt to get any pleasure, you start moving in circles, clamping down on him with every move.
"holy fuck..." wriothesley sighs, throwing his head back. the way your cunt spasmed around him made him just a little closer to his release, and his hips started bucking into yours. archons, he needed to finish so badly...
three more bucks into you and he came, shutting his eyes tight and letting all of his cum release into your more than willing womb. that put you over the edge, falling on him from exhaustion.
you couldn't even rest for a second more, a pair of arms not belonging to the duke of criminals pulling you off his body.
"that's enough" the scribe announced as he pulled your still-sensitive body in his hold, "it's my turn with her".
"fuck off!" wrio cussed at his friend, grabbing a hold of you. "who said i was done?"
"when did i ask if you were done?" alhaitham commented, snatching you away from the fontainian's arms. itto tried to resolve things:
"hey, hey, dudes, let's not fight, yeah? no need to! we'll just let her decide, alright?" the two men fighting over you grumbled to themselves in a displeased manner, but ultimately agreed that it was fair and right for you to decide.
"so, whaddya' say, baby? who do you want in between those pretty, sexy legs?"
you thought for a moment, looking between the three men, all impossibly hard and longing for you.
"it's 'haitham's turn..." you say quietly, earning a big smirk from the sumeru man. he pulls you to him, rather excited that he was the one you chose.
"but" you announce as you're pulled in alhaithams arms, "it's not fair to the rest of you guys..." itto's patience ran thin as he sat back down, angrily fucking his fist in quick, desperate motions. why’d he ever have to allow his friends to fuck you like this?
"fuck, love bug, fine... 'ts okay, i'll..." he had to gulp down his spit to be able to say this, unsure if he was even correctly hearing the words that were coming out of his mouth.
"i'll let them do ya', sweets. a deal’s a deal"
when itto made that stupid bet with his more-than-willing friends and put a night with you on the line, he certainly didn’t expect that he’d be the one sitting it out. he was your boyfriend, for Inazuma’s sake, he should be the one buried in you, not the one jerking off the entire night because he can’t get to you!
even though it was ripping his heart apart, itto thought it was right to ignore his selfish needs and let the two of them go first. you were their prize, after all, and arataki itto was nothing if not an honest man who kept his word. that was one of the qualities he had promised grandma oni to keep, and he certainly wasn’t letting up now.
"but itto... that's so unfair to you.. i can see that you're hurting pretty bad..."
his dick was weeping for your attention. somehow, no matter how hard he tried, jerking off didn't go anywhere, always leading him to a place of very precum-sticky hands and no orgasms.
still, he brushed it off, waving his hand in a shoo-ing manner.
"no sweat, baby. i can wait a lil' longer, yeah? you just say there and be good for my pals, hm? hey, i tried to stop 'em, but if you go overboard they are really gonna punish you, baby, and they won't be as nice as me!"
oh, nobody was as nice as him. his words laced with adoration for your body, desperation for your warmth and thirst for your touch drove you insane. no matter how much you'd like having two gorgeous men as alhaitham and wrio fucking you, your mind still couldn't get over the fact that this sweet demon just went against all of his primal urges, just so you'd be able to be with who you want for the night and so his friends get completely satisfied.
"and what if she can't go on after this, itto? i stopped counting her orgasms after six, and she has come quite a few times since then..." alhaitham asked, worried for his demon friend and the fact that he might be left with blue balls and an excruciatingly painful dick.
itto growled low, shutting his eyes. fuck, this whole situation was unfair and it hurt. both physically and emotionally. itto was the one who wanted you the most, who loved you the most, why'd he have to suffer with not getting you at all?!
"if her pretty pussy really can't take any more after us, she'll be good and help arataki at least with some nice head, yeah?" you nodd feverishly at wrio’s question. you'd do anything to help your generous and selfless boyfriend feel good.
thirty minutes later, your legs were far apart, making enough space for the two men to both fuck your greedy whole.
"shit! so tight, fuck!" the scribe's and wrio's moans about how good you felt certainly felt like salt in the wound for arataki. he sat a little from you with a pout on his face, his slowly-softening dick laid in his palm as he watched you take the two of them, at the same time.
"hah-ah! mphhr.. itto..? why don't you- ah! mmm, wrio! tham! why don't you help yourself, at least a little bit? ooh~" you asked through a wrecked moan, feeling immensely guilty for leaving your love hanging.
"i'm good, baby" he muttered, a displeased look on his face, "can't come if it's not in you, anyway"
those words shoot you right through the heart, melting your insides completely and you come hard, milking the two men inside you. they both quickly follow your lead, spurting ropes of white inside you and stuffing you fully.
the two of them removed themselves from your body, leaving you shivering and full, spread out on the bed. Itto noticed your fucked-out expression, chuckling to himself.
“hah, feels good, doesn’t it, sweets? did ya’ say thanks to my pals for fillin’ you up, hm?”
you turn your head over to where alhaitham and wriothesley rested, giving them a soft smile. you mouth a meek “thank you”, too tired to even speak.
“let’s get ya’ all cleaned up-” your boyfriend starts to get up to go to the bathroom, yet your words make him stop instantly.
“itto” you moan, as if there was nothing else for you in this world but him, “i-itto”
he turns around to look at you, an amused and a little shocked smile on his face. “that’s me, love bug, the one and oni! whatdya need?”
you look at him through your thick eyelashes, a gleam of lust in your eyes. 
“need you” you whimper, “really really really need you”
with those words, he’s immediately on you, nestling himself between your plushy thighs.
“awwww, there’s my pretty girl!” he exclaims excitedly, his palms on each side of your head as he presses kisses all over you. “i’m here, baby, i’m here. i gotcha.”
oh, no matter how good any of his friends felt, itto will forever be your favorite. not only because intercourse with him is pure love-making, filled with adoration and love you have for each other, but also because itto fucked like the big, beefy demon he is - rough and fast.
“ohhh… itto-oh..” you moaned as he slowly eased his tip inside your gaping hole, trying not to be overly rough right out of the gate - but he can’t, there’s no way after he’s been edging himself for hours. his hips snap into yours and he bottoms out in you, making you scream out in ecstasy.
you were amused by it all, really. just ten minutes ago you were taking two above-average cocks inside and doing just fine, and now you’re struggling to take your boyfriend’s cock? itto laughed at how you struggled, soothing your sides gently.
“aww, sweets, still so tight? three dicks haven’t loosened you f’ me, baby?” you whine in embarrassment, arms locking around your boyfriend’s large neck. your pussy pulsated and spasmed around him, sore muscles trying to accommodate his enormous size.
he started moving slightly, rocking into you with gentleness and warmth. itto pressed loving, eager kisses trailing all the way from your eyelids to your collarbone, trying to get you to rest and enjoy after hours worth of rough sex. 
three minutes of him moving and you were already seeing stars. Itto was so big, so thick and deliciously long, that just his shallow thrusts could hit all the right spots in you. he hissed as you clamped down on him again:
“shit, love bug, easy there, baby! already milking me, fuck! don’t ya’ do that, sweets, or i won’t be able to control myself, ‘kay?”
he groaned into your ear, warming you with the weight of his large, warm body on top of yours. even though he warned you not to, you couldn’t help but tighten on him and whimper for more. his thrusts changed their pace from slow and loving to erratic and careless, fucking into you like all he wanted was to breed you full.
“ahhh… mhh.. none of them could fill ya’ like i can, baby… yeah? and none of them could make you feel good, hm? this pretty little cunt needs me to fill her up, yeah? breed her nice and good, like no one ever before, right? mphh.. like no one ever will.. mine, sweets, all of this is just f’ me..” he groaned into your ear as he fucked you, his big palms sliding down to your ass and giving you a light squeeze.
suddenly, you clamp down on him hard, making him lose his composure. his hips stutter and his eyes roll to the back of his head as he finally reaches his high after a whole evening of torture, burying himself as far deep as possible and draining those pretty balls inside you. it felt so good - and you knew it did, by the small tears of pleasure in the corners of his eyes.
he stuffed you so full that you were sure it would make your stomach bulge, it had to! your boyfriend fell on you once he came, nuzzling his face in your skin. after a few minutes of deep breaths and cuddling, itto sat up:
“wanna go get cleaned, love bug? I dunno about you, but I wouldn’t wanna sleep bein’ this sticky!”
you smirk mischievously, putting a gentle hand on his meaty, exposed tigh. instead of getting up like he had asked, you slide down to your knees, in between his legs.
“what… what are you doing, baby?”
you paw at his cock once again, beginning to harden in your hand once again.
“mh… wanna say sorry for makin’ you wait, itto… wanna be good…”
and good you were, giving him all the attention he missed earlier that evening.
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luveline · 8 months
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I love bombshell reader. Would she ever get jealous?
Your eye is most definitely twitching. The pull and cinch of your lashes and the delicate skin of your eyelid distracts you mildly from the sight in front of you, but not for long. 
You rub at your eye with a perfectly filed nail, smudging intricate makeup all over the place. You remember your mascara only after you've mussed it and groan in annoyance. "Fucking fuck," you murmur, slipping a hand into your jacket pocket. 
"You okay?" Emily asks. 
Using your phone screen as a substandard mirror, you clean up the smudge you'd made of your make up with your pinky finger carefully. "I'm great," you say breezily. 
"You sure? You sound stressed." 
"She's jealous," Morgan says. Smugness lines his face and the otherwise handsome set of his mouth. 
You roll your eyes at him, to his bemusement, and sit back in your cold, leather-backed chair. "Sure, Morgan, I'm very jealous. Of what?" 
"Of our baby boy's new friend, obviously," he says. 
You don't give him the satisfaction of looking back at Spencer where he stands at the bar, nor do you let the practised smile you're wearing falter. Your guts an aching wound and your skin flushed with heat, you reach for the cherry coasting along the surface of your drink and pull it out by the stem, twisting it between your fingers. Unbothered on the outside, and an insecure, hurt mess on the inside. 
It really looked like Spencer was flirting with her. 
You chew your cherry for much longer than you need to for want of something to do, hot tears begging to well behind your eyes. Spencer isn't your boyfriend, you've held hands a couple times and that's that. He's allowed to want someone else. Someone prettier, smaller, she'd had a head of perfect braids and a dewy, do eyed smile. Cherry swallowed, you knock back your drink. 
"Sorry," Spencer starts, sliding into the booth next to you with another cherry sour for you and what looks like an ice cold glass of coke for himself.
You hadn't asked him for a drink and he hadn't mentioned getting you one. For a moment, the ugly weight of envy lifts from your shoulders. "Oh, thank you." 
"I just met this girl at the bar and she had something very interesting to ask me," Spencer says. 
You don't want to hear it. Morgan absolutely does, and with Emily to encourage him, they're happy happy torture you both. "Why's Penelope taking so long?" you ask, trying to change the subject too late. 
"What did she want, loverboy?" Morgan asks.
"Did you think she was pretty?" Spencer asks you.
Mortified, you stare at him. Plainly hurt, to his surprise, you clasp your hands together tightly in your lap. "Why would you ask me that?" 
"Because she wants to ask you out?" Spencer's knee bumps yours. "She thinks you're, quote, intimidatingly pretty." 
Emily and Morgan laugh together gleefully. You're glad this is entertaining for them, but mostly you're relieved. You pick up your drink and take a sip, looking over Spencer's shoulder into the bar for the girl he'd been speaking with. She smiles shyly. 
"I'm assuming this is from her?" 
"What? No, that's from me." 
Your gaze flickers back to him. "Really?" 
"That's my boy," Morgan jokes, swinging his arm behind Emily's seat. She laughs approvingly. 
Firmly back on stable footing, you give Spencer your stickiest grin, looking over his pretty face greedily. He's looking at your drinks rather than you but his torso is turned your way, the backs of his fingers brushing your stocking clad thigh. "Maybe I should go let her down gently?" you murmur, shifting in your seat to turn his way too, flirting with the idea of touching his cheek. 
"You might not need to," he says. 
"How come?" you ask. 
"Well, I… I sort of implied you were taken. You know. With the drink. And I also might've said you weren't interested." 
"Yeah?" You put your hand on his shoulder, tracing a whisper of a path up the slope of it to the base of his throat. "Well, it's a good thing I'm not." 
Emily shakes the small bowl of roasted peanuts, a deviousness about her as she says, "Good for all of us. I've never seen Y/N that jealous before. For once, I thought we'd have to protect her from you." 
You could kill her. Flustered, you tilt your head to one side and look out over nothing, mumbling, "I wouldn't say I was that jealous." 
"No?" Spencer asks. "I can go tell her you've changed your mind." 
"Don't push your luck, Reid." 
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Ok so I’m not really sure if I did this right but I was thinking about something with maybe lando or Charles and basically it’s vlogger reader just doing their thing around the paddock vlogging about what’s going on and things like that and lando/Charles and other drivers make little cameos in the vlog as well and it’s really sweet and cute and fluffy
Making Movies Out Of Memories - Charles Leclerc
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Y/n grins setting up her camera as they sit on the private jet, though just after hitting record she grabs and yanks Joris down into frame with impression strength and Joris' shock over the action triggers a high pitched laughter from Charles.
"It's a day in the life in the life of Charles Leclerc's WAGs. I'm his girlfriend, y/n and this is his wife, Joris."
Joris immediately beings shouting at her in French denying it while Charles and Andrea are cackling in the background. Much like her boyfriend, she takes great joy out of tormenting Joris whenever the opportunity falls upon her.
"Charlie, you tell your girlfriend to behave." Joris demands finally breaking free and getting to a safe distance from the young woman, though he jumps back more when she picks up her camera and stands up.
"Ah mon amour, you are scaring him." Charles chuckles making her sigh and roll her eyes moving to sit on his lap and directing the camera at the two of them. "Is it only a day in the life?"
"Mmm...maybe a weekend. It's the last race of the season. It's our goodbye vlog." Y/n smiles while slumping back on her boyfriend who wraps his arms around her tightly to hug her closer. "Abu Dhabi 2023 going to be well and truly documented. Making movies out of memories."
"That is beautiful." Charles hums then kissing the top of her head.
"Ok, vlog. We'll catch up when we land. Might do a cheeky time lapse. Depends if Joris forgives me for the manhandling and wants to be on camera." Y/n states before turning the camera off and looking at Joris with a slightly pouted lip.
"Yes. Yes. Record if you want." Joris nods making her beam at him and almost jump up to rush towards him, but Charles arms remain tight around her keeping her pressed firmly in place.
"Alright, I should've expected that." Y/n breathes with a sigh.
-
Y/n sets up the camera deciding to do an OOTD for each day of the vlog. Starting with Thursday which isn't too much effort since it's just a media day.
"Do you think this is ok? I don't want to be dressed down." Y/n frowns as Charles appears and just stops to look at her.
He apparently doesn't notice the camera before he moves towards her quickly kissing her a few times.
"Mon amour tu es si belle." Charles smiles as she is placed on her feet. "You are the best dressed."
"Lewis might have something to say about that."
"Lewis can say what he likes." Charles dismisses earning a laugh.
"Well I'm glad I captured that all on camera." Y/n smiles before her turns and groans spotting the camera. "Hey, I didn't know you'd be out here making bold statements."
"We need to go, grab your camera. Have you got everything in your bag that you need?" He asks spotting her bag and getting ready to carry it for her.
They head over to the paddock and every driver or team member who y/n passes gets a featured moment on the vlog. Kika gets an especially long feature with y/n getting several angles and even forcing Charles to hold the camera to capture the two of them together just goofing around and making stupid poses for the shot.
"Alright, I'll see you later for lunch." Y/n exclaims blowing the fellow young woman a kiss before linking her hand with Charles as they walk towards the Ferrari unit.
-
Y/n can't help but be completely a buzz with her boyfriend once again getting on the front row. Sure it's not a a pole position, but front row is better than being out of position like Carlos.
"You did so good, baby. So so good." Y/n smiles then kissing him softy after she does set up the camera to capture the moment. "P2!"
"Front row. Pole would be better but-"
"It's Max."
"I beat him before."
"And you will again." Y/n smiles then kissing him softly. "Ready to call it a day?"
"Yes. Let's go." Charles nods with a yawn but he beats her to picking up the camera and grins picking it up and looking at them. "Goodnight vlog."
Y/n laughs stopping it from recording and sighing as they head off for the night.
"Wait, actually while you drive. I was to do a quick little insider interview. Can I?" Y/n asks making Charles look at her as they sit in his car, the dimpled smile appearing as he teases her as if he won't do as she asked all before he nods and agrees. "Are you ready to say goodbye to SF-23?"
"I am excited to see what our car for next year can improve on." Charles states quickly earning a boo with y/n even blowing a raspberry at him.
"You can be honest with the vlog and I. Or do you want me to answer for you?"
"What do you think I would want to say?" Charles laughs making her smile and turn the camera.
"Charles is hoping that the car will be significantly better and easier to driver, but if it isn't easier to drive, he at least wants it getting results that reflect the teams efforts that are being put into this car." Y/n smiles which ultimately makes Charles laugh in the background loudly. "Alright, see you all tomorrow for the race."
-
Capturing footage for a race day montage is actually hard because usually everyone is so busy and rushing around. It feels like she's getting in the way. Almost like she's Martin Brundle on the grid walk.
"Hi, y/n's vlog!" Lando exclaims when he passes her in the paddock. Seeming to rush towards the McLaren garage.
"Good luck!" Y/n calls after him before suddenly feeling hands ushering her forward. It sounds odd to some but she instantly knows who it is without having to look. "Hi, baby."
"Where is my good luck?"
"I'm right here." Y/n grins then laughing as Charles pokes her in the ribs. "Ah, Charlie. Look, you have to go. Before you're late."
"Then we both need to hurry." Charles chuckles pushing her forward to rush them through the crowd before she is quite literally placed in the seat Charles has decided where she will be sitting for the duration of the race. "I love you, see you on the podium."
"See you then." Y/n laughs knowing the camera just caught the moment but from an angle that probably does her not justice.
When the race starts, y/n just watches knowing at some point the camera appears in the garage and seems to really zoom in on her as if she's Charles eyes during a red flag.
She runs out with the team when the chequered flag passes and she is there for Charles when he gets out the car, moving to kiss the young woman who makes sure the camera is capturing the moment too.
"I'm so proud of you!" Y/n beams as George does his interview portion.
"My good luck charm, yes?"
"Yes." Y/n laughs as she watches Andrea hand Charles his jewellery which is, of course, a priority.
Making sure to capture the moments of seeing him stand on the podium which does prove to show that the winks he does up there are usually towards his girlfriend in the crowd. Then comes the trophies and champagne showers.
Once he's down and with her again, she rushes to congratulate him again, now with Joris holding her camera to record the two of them.
"Ending the year on a high note." Y/n smiles overflowing with joy and pride with him.
"I am sad that Carlos did not properly finish the race."
Admittedly, y/n hadn't even noticed, even with her being in the garage. She was so focused on Charles and the broadcast that it probably would've taken someone screaming in her ear to get her attention to divert elsewhere.
"He just couldn't get through the pack, everyone seemed to be on such good form today." Y/n sighs smiling sadly before she looks at him then running a hand through his slightly damp and sweaty hair. "I'll let you go do the debrief. I think I'm going to track down Kika till you're done."
"Ok, we shouldn't be too long." Charles smiles kissing her quickly before they part.
-
Admittedly after finding Charles and cleaning up, the two of them celebrated pretty hard with all the other drivers and teams. Y/n is currently not impressed with her boyfriend for deciding they had to get back to Monaco as soon as possible.
"Y/n didn't want to finish her vlog. So I have decided to help." Charles laughs as he picks up her camera and hits record. He directs it down to his lap where y/n is resting her head trying to do her best recover from the violent hangover that had her spend the run up to their departure from the hotel entirely in the bathroom. "Y/n, baby, you have to finish you vlog."
"Please. No. I feel so ill." Y/n groans pulling the strings of her hoodie on her hoodie to try and cover her face.
"We will help." Andrea smiles taking the camera to direct it at himself and Joris. "Thank you for watching y/n's vlog. She'll be back not feeling so ill. You can be sure she did have a good time last night. I think she got some of it one camera-ah Charles, did y/n record some of the night?"
"Yes." Charles laughs as they point the camera the driver who pats y/n's head while she groans and whines shoving her face into his stomach.
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becca-e-barnes · 8 months
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Ma’am, you are deviously incredible 🔥 We’re begging for an exploration of him saying “I love you” while fucking her like he doesn’t 🥹
My brain keeps picking up the storyline a few splendidly torturous hours in when her body’s completely spent & quivering & she’s a blubbering mess & that’s when he picks her up & takes his sweet time positioning her so she can limply yet eagerly watch their reflection has he finally gives her… exactly what her twitching body’s been craving. 🥵
I'm so glad you all enjoyed the thought of this as much as I did because I've been dying to expand on it 😵‍💫 (Part 1 here)
I like to imagine by that stage, he's absolutely desperate too though. He's got to feel your sweet little pussy clench and flutter around him, contracting so tight every time you cum that he swears it's going to be the end of him.
He's been too hard for too long, buried inside your body and he swears he's never felt you this wet or this hot before. It's been fucking luxurious, forcing you to cum against his fingers, feeling how your body's natural reaction is to coax him to drain his balls into you but that alone isn’t enough. He needs more than that.
He wouldn't admit it to you but he can't take any more. His balls feel like they're fizzing; overfull and beyond ready to flood your waiting, overstimulated body.
He arranges you gently, laying you on your front because he doesn't trust your trembling arms to support you. "That's it, good girl." He coos, hearing you whimper and sob pathetically because he needs to slip out of you to slide a pillow under your hips.
"You've made such a mess." He groans, taking a second to appreciate the delicious, inviting, slick little cunt he's about to indulge in. "You're dripping, sweetheart. God, I just know there's no way I'm going to be able to pull out."
His huge hands are gripping your hips and with one sharp, brutal thrust, he's back inside you and you both sob pathetically at the feeling of your bodies being joined again. This is exactly what you've needed but you don't have the words to tell him that. All you can do is whine and will your body not to cum again so soon.
"I meant. What I said earlier." He punctuates his sentence with soft groans, drawing back until he almost slips out of you before pounding back in.
He leans forward, tilting your chin up, making sure you can see the way he's fucking you in the mirror at the end of the bed.
"I love you. And I don't want you to forget that." He sounds sincere, one hand trailing up from the small of your back to right between your shoulder blades and then back down again. It feels intimate and tender but all that is forgotten by the very next thrust.
"I love you. But for now, you're just a mindless. Little. Drooling. Breedable. Cunt for me." He slows his thrusts down, determined not to cum so soon but it's going to be difficult to last until he gets the first couple of loads out of the way.
"Baby..." You whimper, feeling the tip of his cock nudge against your sweet spot, making you shake from overstimulation.
"I know sweetheart, I know. It's too much. But you're being so good for me. You're so perfect. How have no idea how you feel. So wet and warm and I can feel you fluttering around my cock. It's like you're trying to squeeze every last drop of cum out of me. Is that what you want? Because angel, I'll keep this delicious cunt stuffed full of load after load until I have nothing left to give you."
His thrusts are punishingly fast, thumping against your raised ass, half chasing his orgasm, half holding it back.
"And when I do, I'll remind you just how much I love you. And the baby I'm going to give you tonight."
With that thought, he can't stop himself from cumming, his dick twitching inside you as he shoots thick ropes of his seed right against your cervix. You're so cock-drunk you can only rut yourself millimetres back and forth but that's all you need to send yourself spiralling into another orgasm that leaves you trembling and sobbing.
"Fuck, you want that as much as I do, don't you?" He kisses the back of your neck, breathing you in while letting the euphoric rush subside. He notices he hasn't softened in the slightest despite such an intense orgasm but he knows he needs to be gentle with you for a moment before he can get any rougher.
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libraryofgage · 6 months
Text
Good Vibrations Two
This AU got a lot more attention than I expected actually hfjdks I'm so glad everyone likes it!
Anyway, here's part two! We get some concert, some peeks at how Robin helps Steve navigate social situations, and a little Eddie having an itsy-bitsy crisis over Steve's fashion choices.
Have fun! And, as always, if you see any typos, no you didn't (especially for this one since I wrote most of it on my phone actually lmao)
----
Steve stares at the shirts laid out on his bed, arms crossed over his chest. Choosing jeans had been easy, but choosing a shirt is giving him trouble. What do you wear to a metal show at the local dive bar for a small-town band in which the lead singer is a long-time and way-out-of-your-league crush that you've been holding a candle for since the first time you saw him laugh on top of a cafeteria table?
You definitely don't show up in a plain black shirt, that's for sure.
The lights in the hall outside Steve's room flicker, switching off and on three times. Steve just barely notices, which means he doesn't get his pants scared off when Robin appears in the doorway, grinning at him while pocketing the key to the front door he'd given her months ago into a messenger bag. "Hey, dingus," she says, striding into the room and flopping onto the bed.
Steve rolls his eyes, yanking the shirts out from under her and laying them once more over Robin's stomach and legs. "What shirt should I wear?" he asks.
It takes a few seconds for Steve to look from the shirts to Robin, and she patiently waits until he's staring at her to say, "Just pick one. Nobody's gonna care what you're wearing."
"I care," Steve says, frowning as he looks back at the shirts. For the aforementioned crush reason, Steve cares very much about the shirt he wears. "What says 'Hi, we've never talked before but your music is the only thing I can hear and I think your hair is in desperate need of quality shampoo and also I've been halfway in love with you since, like, sophomore year'?"
Robin considers the question for a long moment before picking up a red sweater. "This one says 'I'm horny'," she offers.
Steve blinks, staring at the sweater for a few beats before laughing. "But I'm not," he says.
Despite looking at Robin, she happens to angle her head toward the sweater, and her response is lost on Steve. He frowns, waits until her jaw has stopped moving, and says, "I didn't get that."
After Robin first learned about Steve's deafness, he'd been overly anxious about asking her to repeat things. Somehow, it was worse to constantly ask when the person knew he couldn't hear well, if at all. But Robin had never shown annoyance; she'd just adjust her posture, make sure Steve could see her lips, and repeat her words. She does all of this now, and Steve gets to read her joking response, "Yeah, but you will be."
And, yeah, she has him there. Steve huffs and collapses onto the bed beside her, sacrificing the shirts. "I'll need a jacket," he says, turning his head to look at Robin so he can read her response.
Instead of words, though, he sees her face light up, and she jumps off the bed. Steve sits up, watching as she digs in her messenger bag before pulling out a t-shirt. "Remember when I stayed over a few weeks ago? And you let me borrow a shirt? You should wear it!"
Thankfully, Robin waits until she's done talking to throw the shirt in Steve's face. Honestly, he only understood a few words ("remember," "borrow," and "wear") but he's gathered enough context clues to get the gist of things.
He spreads the shirt out, humming at the Iron Maiden design. It's not one he wears often; for the most part, it's a shirt he wears on lazy days at home because of how soft it is. But as he's studying the design, Steve is suddenly hit with a stroke of pure genius.
He quickly changes into the shirt and then grabs a varsity jacket (not his letterman, but one he'd seen at the mall and bought on a whim because it used a nice shade of yellow) off his desk, tugging it on over the shirt but leaving it unbuttoned. After a few more seconds of digging around, he finds sneakers under the bed and tugs them on.
"Okay," he says, turning so Robin can see the outfit from every angle. He comes to a stop when he's facing her once more, hands buried in his jacket pockets, and asks, "What do you think? How's it look?"
"I think you'll give Eddie a crisis," Robin replies, wrinkling her nose at the varsity jacket. "Not, like, a bad one. But he'll probably ask where you got the shirt from."
Steve grins, thinking that sounds about perfect, and turns to study himself in the mirror. It's a surprisingly solid blend of metal and jock, and it makes him feel oddly confident, the same way he felt the first time he did his hair just right and everyone complimented it.
"Perfect," he decides. "Let's go."
----
The ride to the Hideout isn't exactly quiet, but it's not like Steve can talk and drive at the same time. So it's filled with music blasted as high as it can go on his car stereo, causing the whole vehicle to vibrate with each beat. When he finally turns the car off after parking, Robin grimaces as she rubs her ears.
She waits for Steve to be in front of her before saying, "We're putting the windows down next time."
"Oh. Sorry," Steve says, rubbing the back of his neck a little awkwardly as Robin dismissively waves off his apology.
"No, it's fine, I'm just saying. Now, let's get inside before they start."
With that, she loops her arm through Steve's and drags him into the Hideout. They're hit with a wave of cigarette smoke, spilled beer, and sweat as they walk through the door, the combined smells making Steve dizzy. He frowns, leaning closer to Robin as she squeezes his arm. He feels her thumb tap him twice, their code for asking if the other is okay.
"I'm fine," he mumbles, nodding to a table in the corner. "Let's go sit. I just need to get used to...everything."
The lights are weird, too. Despite the place being dim, the few lights that are on are flickering, and Steve is having trouble processing all the new information his (working) senses are taking in.
Thankfully, Robin pulls him over to the table he pointed to, a small circle near a stage of dubious sturdiness. It looks like it can barely hold the instruments, much less those plus the people who will play them. There's an amp on the side of the stage near the table, which means they'll have the perfect spot to feel the music's vibrations. Steve slides into one of the chairs there and closes his eyes, resting his arms on a table that is surprisingly not sticky.
He feels Robin move the other chair next to him, slide in, and start pulling things out of her bag. When Steve opens his eyes again, there's a notebook between them and a variety of pens in all different colors spread out across the open pages. Robin has already picked up a red pen and is writing with it as Steve chooses a purple one.
When Robin is done writing, she taps the page so Steve can read, "Want something to drink?"
"I'm not sure we can trust the glasses here," he writes back.
"The fact you're calling them "glasses" tells me everything. Just sit tight."
With that, Robin drops her pen, winks at Steve, and heads over to the bar where a woman is wiping the counter. Steve watches her for a few seconds before looking around at the other people in the place. Most of them are sitting in groups, talking amongst themselves. Most of them also have mustaches or beards, making it downright impossible for Steve to read their lips.
Instead, Steve just gets a dull kind of rush in his ears, an ever-present background noise he can't escape. Soon enough, maybe because he's thinking about it too much, a high-pitched ringing starts up in his right ear, growing and growing in pitch until it's all he can focus on. Steve grimaces and looks down at the notebook, trying to keep his shoulders relaxed so he doesn't look as tense as he feels. The ringing persists, and he rubs his ear like that's going to help.
His ear is still ringing, though it has started to diminish, when a water bottle is placed in front of him. Steve jerks, forcing himself to calm down as Robin slides into her seat again with a mug of beer that's more foam than anything else. "They're about to start," she says, waiting until Steve has nodded once to show understanding before taking a sip.
Steve looks up at the stage and wonders how he missed Eddie and his friends arriving. As his friends are setting up behind him, Eddie is resting one hand on the neck of his guitar and using the other to hold the mic close to his mouth. Steve can't read his lips, but Eddie's grin is a little contagious as he says something to a guy by the bar. The guy must say something back, because Eddie bursts out laughing, his head thrown back to show off a neck Steve wants to bite.
A tap on his arm brings his attention away, and he looks at the notebook to see Robin has scrawled out a transcript:
"Eddie: Thanks for coming out tonight, everyone
Guy: Fuck off, Munson
Eddie: Love you, too, Jeremy"
Steve snorts, looking up to see Robin's equally amused smile as she continues to write on another page. When he glances at the stage, Steve sees Eddie still talking into the mic, his eyes roaming over the audience until they reach Steve and Robin. Eddie seems to grip the mic tighter, and he holds Steve's eyes for a few seconds, giving just enough time for Steve to wave awkwardly before Eddie looks away. But his smile seems a little bigger than before, and Steve is happy to let himself think he caused it.
When he looks down again, Robin has finished writing, and she nudges the notebook closer to him. Eddie must talk fast, because her writing is almost indistinguishable from chicken scratch in dirt that a cat got dragged through. Thankfully, Steve is an expert at this point.
"Eddie: Anyway, you know the drill. We'll start with some Metallica, treat you to Iron Maiden, throw in a dash of Black Sabbath, and then grace you with a Corroded Coffin original. If you don't like it, not my problem."
Steve feels the beginning of the set as he finishes reading. He sits a little straighter, planting his feet firmly on the floor and placing his palms on the table with his fingers spread. Robin is still writing next to him, most likely transcribing the bits and pieces of conversation she can hear for Steve to read later and laugh at. She doesn't try to get his attention while she does, already knowing it won't be worth it after Steve has shifted into Music Mode.
In the same way that people can tell what song is playing based simply on the first note, Steve can sometimes tell based on the strength and length of the first vibration. In the same way people know the lyrics of songs after listening to them enough times, Steve knows the vibration patterns like the back of his hand. In the same way people who hear their favorite songs played live can tell when a note is wrong or a lyric is sung too fast, Steve can tell when the drummer or bassist makes tiny mistakes that wouldn't be caught otherwise.
And Steve loves it. He loves how his entire body thrums with each vibration that travels from the amp. He loves how he can close his eyes and picture a story based on the music, one that probably doesn't match the lyrics but tends to replace them in his heart. He loves that this is something he can still share with his friends, even if most of them don't realize how different his experience with music is.
So, for all the little bumps and dips that occur in the vibrations as Corroded Coffin plays, for all the tiny slips that certainly go unnoticed by anyone else, and for all the fact that Steve doesn't get to hear Eddie's voice, he can confidently say he loves the show. He's never heard the songs played like this before, and it helps diminish the gut-deep desperation for new music.
And then Corroded Coffin starts a new song. It's one Steve doesn't recognize, one with vibrations that are completely foreign to him, and he jerks his head up to watch Eddie play his guitar in an opening solo. It thrums across the floor, climbing up his legs and spreading in waves from his palms on the table. Steve feels goosebumps chase after it, a new wave washing over him when the guitar solo ends with a particularly strong vibration that's immediately followed by the drums and bass.
Eddie throws himself into the music, moving and twisting and strutting around the stage like he's playing to Madison Square Garden. Steve can't look away, the lyrics incomprehensible but replaced by the jerk of Eddie's hips and the tilt of his head and the little half-spin he does on his heel.
It ends too quickly with one final, reverberating strum that lingers in Steve's bones, burrowing into his marrows as Eddie pushes his hair back and grins into the mic. He says something breathlessly, his shoulders rising and falling rapidly as he tries to catch his breath, and Steve knows he's gone.
He's hopeless.
He's desperate.
He needs more Corroded Coffin, more Eddie, in whatever form he can get.
----
For the first time, Corroded Coffin gets genuine applause after playing. Usually, the patrons of the Hideout will politely clap (if they even notice the set is over) for about two seconds. Tonight, however, Eddie and his friends are graced with excited clapping, a few shouts, and one very strong whistle from a small table to the left of the stage. And it spreads because even rough biker dudes can fall to peer pressure when it's that enthusiastic.
So, yeah, genuine applause all because of Steve Harrington and Robin Buckley who, Eddie thinks, is surprising company for the former King of Hawkins High. No matter how unexpected, he should still thank them and ask what they thought of the set now that it's over. He carefully sets his guitar on a stand and glances over his shoulder, catching Jeff's gaze and flashing a grin. "I'll be right back," he says before jumping off the stage and heading over to Steve and Robin's table.
As he gets closer, he notices the notebook and pens spread out, colorful writing filling the pages and Steve grinning with amusement as he reads it. Robin is watching him like she's waiting for him to understand an inside joke already so they can laugh about it together. If Eddie didn't already know Robin was like him (band camp, summer after his junior year, during an unfortunate game of Seven Minutes in Heaven where they awkwardly stood in a closet together before Robin commented on his black bandana), he'd wonder if something was going on between them.
"How'd you like the set?" Eddie asks when he reaches the table, suddenly nervous enough to tug on a lock of his hair and pull it in front of his mouth.
Robin looks up, but Steve doesn't. He's still reading the notebook, snorting at whatever is written there like he didn't hear Eddie. It's not until Robin elbows him that he raises his head, eyes widening when he sees Eddie. "Sorry, could you repeat that?" Steve asks, his gaze dropping to Eddie's mouth (Eddie definitely isn't imagining that) and faltering some.
"I asked if you liked the set," Eddie says, frowning slightly as Robin grabs a pen and scribbles something on the notebook. It's too small for him to read, but he doesn't miss how Steve glances down for less than a second before his eyes light up with realization.
"Oh!" he says, looking back at Eddie and flashing a charming grin. "It was great. You guys are so loud, and I've never f-uh, heard anything like your original song before."
Eddie catches the way Steve fumbles, faltering like he wanted to say one word but forced himself to say another. Something is tugging at the back of Eddie's mind, but he can't quite grab onto it just yet. For now, he leans forward, placing both hands on the table so he can be closer to Steve. "You listen to metal often, Harrington?" he asks.
Steve stares at his mouth for a few seconds before nodding, and Eddie feels the thrill of learning something completely unexpected. "I like Black Sabbath best, but Judas Priest and Guns N' Roses are close seconds," Steve says.
"Yeah?" Eddie asks, "What do you like most about it?" He wants to know. Does Steve Harrington (King Steve, Steve "The Hair" Harrington, Steve fucking Harrington) like metal for the same reasons he does? Does he like the stories and the passion and the heavy theatricality of it all?
Steve seems to hesitate, possibly thinking about how to answer, before finally saying, "I like how it's music I can feel. When I listen to metal, it digs into my bones. Other music doesn't."
Somehow, Eddie's grin gets impossibly wider, and his cheeks are hurting from the sheer force of it. He's about to say more when Robin glances at the clock and swears under her breath. "Shit, I promised Mom I'd be home ten minutes ago," she says, grabbing the pens and recklessly throwing them into her bag.
It's the movement that seems to catch Steve's attention, and he looks down at Robin's hands before looking up at the clock. "Oh, fuck, your curfew," he says, looking at Robin like she hadn't just said the same thing two seconds ago.
"Yeah, no shit, dingus," Robin says, pausing long enough to speak while looking straight at Steve before throwing the notebook into her bag, too. She jumps to her feet and hauls Steve out of the chair, making his varsity jacket fall open to reveal an Iron Maiden shirt.
And Eddie thinks his heart just about stops. He doesn't know why, but seeing Steve in a metal band shirt under an undeniably jock jacket makes him feel....something. This is, like, sacrilege, right? How dare Steve Harrington allow Metal and Jock to meet? Doesn't he know the two styles clash? Or, well, they're supposed to clash, but Steve somehow wears them well, and Eddie thinks he's upset and annoyed by the fact.
Before Eddie can analyze that feeling, Steve says, "Sorry to run, Eddie. You played really well. Let me know when the next show is."
There's a lot to unpack there, too. Steve Harrington wants to come to another Corroded Coffin gig. Steve Harrington is sorry he has to cut the conversation short. Steve Harrington thinks his band played really well. Before Eddie can say anything in response, Robin is dragging Steve away, throwing a goodbye over her shoulder.
Eddie doesn't want Steve to go without something, though, some kind of departing word, so he shouts, "See ya later, big boy!"
Steve doesn't look back, but Robin nearly trips over the doorway. She then pauses long enough to say something to Steve, watching with sheer delight as he splutters and glances at Eddie before dragging her through the door. Eddie couldn't stop the grin if he tried, and he didn't try.
Later, when Eddie is sprawled on the floor of his room, staring up at the ceiling and thinking about Steve's stupid combination of Metal and Jock, he'll be struck by a sudden, consuming thought. What if Steve was wearing just the Iron Maiden shirt? What if he wore just the jacket?
Eddie swallows around the sudden lump in his throat, his mouth going dry as he scrambles to his feet and gets ready to take a very, very cold shower.
----
Tag List (the tag list is completely filled up! There definitely wasn't enough room for everyone who requested a tag orz
Please follow the tag "good vibrations Steddie" or put on notifications for my blog to see when new parts are posted :D)
@hallucinatedjosten, @queenie-ofthe-void, @r0binscript, @jewellthebooknerd, @paintgonewrong, @vacantwatchers, @newagemyth, @gutterflower77, @just-a-tiny-void, @littlebluejane
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muwapsturniolo · 3 months
Text
✯FreshLove for the Fit✯
pt1
Summary: Y/N decides to DM Chris after receiving threats and things start to escalate between the two.
Warnings: NSFW content, swearing, mentions of jerking off, titties are mentioned, dildos, masturbation.
✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯
Y/N was dying of laughter.
Two days ago, one of her favorite content creators decided to go on a spam spree and like all of her posts. She was confused, to say the least, then she became flattered.
Now here she is, full-on cackling as she reads the hate comments she's receiving.
12-year-old girls' calling her all types of names and sending death threats, all because Chris Sturniolo was most likely jerking off to her?
It's hilarious.
She starts laughing even harder when she realizes Chris unfollowed her and unliked all of her posts.
She decides to mess with him a little bit and sends a DM on Instagram
Y/I/N
yo, your fans are cray asf. you need to tell them to leave me tf alone.
Chris's heart dropped when he saw the notification. Y/N was DM'ing him? He hesitantly clicks on the notification and his mouth runs dry when he sees what she said.
He felt like shit.
He isn't dumb, he saw what some of the fans were saying to her online. He thought it was crazy they were sending death threats to her because he was horny and dumb. He decides to respond back.
Christophersturniolo
i feel like shit for the stuff they are saying to and about you. it's not fair at all and I'm sorry.
Y/I/N
LMAO, im playing with you. ion care about these little ass girls. they mad at me because you were horny and jerked your shit to me. shit is funny.
Chris can't help but sigh, and laugh in relief. He really didn't want Y/N to be mad at him.
Christophersturniolo
fuck you had me scared. I'm glad you're handling this well though.
Y/I/N
lmao, i can handle myself very well thank you
Chris finds himself being bold behind a screen.
Christophersturniolo
i like the way you handle yourself.
Y/N smiles and turns onto her stomach, kicking her feet as if she's a schoolgirl texting her crush.
Y/I/N
so i take it you like my content?
She knows he likes it, but she wants to see him admit it. Y/N was a bit cocky, she knows she's pretty as fuck, has a nice body, and that her content is one of the best.
She just likes hearing people say it.
Christophersturniolo
love it actually
Y/I/N
tell me what you love about it.
Christophersturniolo
i love that you wear my brand as your getting off. the way you tweak your nipples through the shirts as you shove the dildo into yourself, chasing an orgasm. i love the way your moans are soft yet so loud at the same time. Don't get me started on your thighs, id love to be in between them all day.
Both of them are staring at their phones, bodies shaking as they take deep breaths. this conversation took a turn none of them were expecting.
Chris can't believe he's talking to a CamGirl who could actually expose this whole conversation.
Y/N can't believe she's even talking to Chris. Hell, she barely has wrapped her head around the fact he enjoys her content.
Christophersturniolo
what would you say if i wanted you to call me
Y/I/N
i would tell you to check my stories tab for prices.
Not even five minutes later, Y/N gets a cash app notification for $200 with the message
"FT me and wear FreshLove."
There's a phone number attached and Y/N is shocked. Her FT prices are only $130 but he sent $200.
She copies the number before pasting it into the Facetime log and pressing the call button.
It rings three times before Chris picks up.
"They look good," both of them think to themselves.
Chris is wearing a pink hoodie that makes Y/N go feral on the inside. Pink is one of her many favorite colors and to see him looking so good laid out in it, she's clenching her legs. It doesn't help that his camera angle is low. She wonders if that's what he would like while his dick is in her throat.
Y/N is in fact wearing FreshLove just like Chris asked (it was more so a demand but that's not the point), and he's trying to contain himself. It was obvious the pink shirt may be a size too small considering it was hugging her chest tightly, allowing her pierced nipples to peak through. His mind is running wild as he imagines fucking her while she's decked out in his brand.
"Hi,"
Chris is shocked when he hears the tone of her voice. He doesn't know what he was expecting, but he didn't expect something so soft and dainty. No wonder her moans sound the way they do.
"Hey..." Chris responds.
"What did you want to call for?" for some reason, Chris is too shy to admit the real reason he wanted to call. How do you tell a girl you only wanted to Facetime, in hopes she fucks herself on her pink dildo so he can jerk off.
"I don't know."
Y/N tilts her head to the side as she looks at him, "I think you know you're just too scared to say it." Her words are taunting,
Chris doesn't like it.
"Not scared to admit anything. I just figured you wouldn't like me telling you to go ahead and grab that pink dildo and fuck yourself for me. I was raised to be a gentleman after all." Chris smirks seeing Y/N get shy. Although her skin is brown, he can tell there's a faint reddish tint to them.
He keeps going, "Don't act all shy, like you don't post yourself online doing the same thing. After all that is how I found you."
Y/N likes being degraded. It's one of the many kinks she has.
"But I won't have you do that, I want to get to know you first."
Y/N is shocked. usually, when she does these calls, the guys automatically demand that she strip and start playing with herself. Although this whole interaction will be transactional, it's a breath of fresh air for her.
The call continues, both of them laughing and talking for more than an hour. The conversations jump from topic to topic. One minute they are talking about music (Y/N was shocked when Chris hadn't heard of Jorja Smith), favorite foods, and movies.
Suddenly Y/N asks a question that's been on her mind, " Why did you send $200 when the price was $130?"
"Because I wanted to" he answers so quick and nonchalantly, it surprises Y/N.
"But you didn't have to, especially if we didn't do anything sexual." When Y/N looks back at her phone, she sees a smirk made its way across Chris's face.
"I have a proposition for you."
✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯
i actually hate this so much but i did want to put out a second chapter 😭 let me know if yall like it or what you want to happen. im very open to suggestions!!!
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steddiealltheway · 6 months
Text
Steve can see it in Max. That same loneliness and ache that he finds in himself. For him, it’s result of his parents leaving with no intent to return to him unless absolutely necessary.
He knows he was an accident. Or rather a mistake as his father used to call him when he was particularly angry. But it made sense to him. Steve's the reason his father had to marry his mother. He left him "trapped." And maybe no one says it out loud, but he can tell his mother feels the same way too.
But they must keep up appearances, right?
Which is what Max has been trying to do since Billy died, El moved away, and it's been just her and her mom. But she's been going about it through a different route - pushing people away all while pretending things are fine. But Steve sees the way she picks up the broken pieces of her mom and tries to put them back together - Steve's had to do the same thing before.
So, he starts sticking around a little longer. Offering her more rides to the arcade and around town to pick up groceries when she needs to. Sometimes he'll tell her about a new recipe he's been trying for a casserole and pick up the ingredients, pretending like the milk and butter he bought will spoil by the time he drives home from her trailer.
Of course, they both know it's a lie, but Max humors him and plays along. She'll let him cook dinner while she picks up the bottles her mom left on the floor, dumps out the overflowing ashtray, and feeds the dog. Usually, Steve will ask her what she's learning in school and linger a little longer than usual in hopes that she'll say more than the usual, "I don't know. A bunch of boring stuff."
But lingering has gotten a lot of things out of Max such as her love for Kate Bush, a story about El and how much she misses her, and short quips about Lucas before she gets a sad smile on her face. Steve doesn't really know what to say most of the time, but he hopes that just being there will help.
Unfortunately, lingering and just being there has led him to his current predicament of none other than Eddie "The Freak" Munson sitting on the hood of his car glaring at him as he walks out of Max's place. Steve jumps a little, startled by the figure on his car and becoming more hostile as he sees the expression on his face. He shoves his hands in his pockets and slows his pace. "Is there a problem?"
Eddie snorts humorlessly. "Christ. You're really going to pretend like there's nothing wrong with what's happening?"
Steve's brows furrow, entirely missing whatever point he's trying to make.
Eddie stands up and stalks toward him. "I see you, you know. Always lurking around when her mom isn't home. Coming out of her trailer late at night."
Steve laughs, finally understanding the absurd conclusion he's come to. "Jesus, man. You're delusional."
Steve doesn't expect it, but Eddie sharply shoves his chest and grits, "I don't fucking lie to me, Harrington."
Steve holds his hands up. "I'm not," he firmly states. "Nothing like that is happening here. I'm glad you're looking out for her, but it isn't like that."
"Do you expect me to believe that? Maybe this is why you're always hanging around Henderson and the other kids."
Steve crosses his arms and his jaw tenses. "I'm not a fucking pervert or a pedophile if that's what you're trying to say. I'm just looking after them."
"Why?" Eddie asks, dramatically opening his arms, "Why would King Steve adopt a group of misfits to take under his wing? See, the math isn't adding up."
Usually, Steve would just brush it off and tell the person to fuck off and mind their own business. But his parents have just left town again without leaving a note and Max had snapped when Steve tried to help her clean the place because it looked worse than usual, and he was just generally feeling like shit and angry at his parents and Max's parents for not being there. So he broke, "Because I don't want Max to end up like me! I don't want any of those kids to grow up without a role model. And god forbid if any of those other kids' parents fuck up, and they’re left with only me. I need them to know that I'm there for them! Because sometimes it feels like whenever the world goes to shit, I'm the only one who is there, and I plan to stay there, okay?!"
He finishes his rant breathing a little heavier than usual and noticing that a few of the lights in the trailers have turned on around them. He looks around and awkwardly nods to the people glaring out their windows. God, he needs to get a grip.
When he turns back to Eddie, he notices the conflicted expression, jaw dropped, eyebrows knitted together, eyes searching him as if he's still wondering if he's lying.
A door creaks open behind them and Steve curses under his breath as he hears Max say, "Eddie, leave him alone. Do you really think I would hook up with my damn babysitter? Jeez."
"Language," Steve quietly lectures as the door swings shut. He runs his hands over his face and takes a deep breath. It's been a long fucking day.
A hand lands on his arm and tugs him away from Max's trailer. Steve glances up at Eddie, leading him across the way. "Where are we going?"
"My place," Eddie says.
"Why?"
"So we can talk."
God, the last thing he wants to do is talk to Eddie of all people, the guy he's been actively avoiding since Dustin started worshipping the ground - or rather tables - he walks on. But he lets himself be pulled away in the trailer and practically deposited on the couch in the living room.
He glances up and comments, "That's a lot of mugs."
"My uncle's, but that's not what I wanted to... Christ," Eddie says, pacing in front of Steve and tugging his hair in front of his face. The anxious display makes Steve feel even more tired, but he lets him pace. God, what is he even doing here?
"I'm sorry," Eddie blurts out. "I'm just..." he trails off and rushes over to grab a stool a few feet away before dragging it in front of the couch. He sits on it but his leg still holds that nervous energy as it rapidly bounces up and down. "I jumped to conclusions, and it was really shitty of me, man. I just... didn't believe what Henderson was saying about you and thought 'Oh, this makes way more sense than Steve Harrington being a good dude.' And I'm sorry to accuse you of that. And I... I didn't know about your... parents and stuff. Like I knew they were away a lot because of your parties but... I just never connected the dots. And I'm sorry. No one deserves that shit, man."
Steve doesn't know what to do this whole interaction, especially with it coming from Eddie Munson who he doesn't think he's ever talked to before this moment, but... he needs to hear it. God, he needs to hear it.
Of course, he can't let him know this, so he does what he's best at and brushes it off. "It's fine. You were just looking out for the kids. And really just ignore what I said back there, it isn't that big of a deal."
Eddie worries his bottom lip before he blurts out, "I know what it's like." He pauses and takes a deep breath. "I mean, I know what it's like to have... absent parents. But in my case, eventually, my uncle Wayne took me in, and I can only imagine if he didn't." He gives him a pointed look and lowers his voice, "Do you have someone like that?"
A big part of Steve wants to leave right now, and he knows there's nothing stopping him. But a bigger part of him needs to stay. Needs to talk about the emptiness in his house that he can never truly escape at the end of the day that he can’t talk to anyone about. Because he's not supposed to be weak. He's supposed to take care of the others. So he admits, "No, I don't have... anyone like that. Except Robin but..."
"That's different," Eddie finishes the thought for him.
Steve nods. He loves Robin, but he loves her as a platonic soulmate and not as a parent figure in his life. "You know, I once had this basketball coach in middle school - Mr. Weston. And I remember looking up to him so much. I wanted to be just like him, and I would go to his office during lunch and ask him for advice or talk about dumb shit that my father would never talk about. But he never shamed me for my questions. And sometimes he even packed an extra dessert for me." Steve smiles at the memories and runs a hand through his hair, remembering the day he got the news. "But one time, when I went to his office, he had this look on his face. And I just knew it was bad news. And really, it wasn't bad news to him because his wife was pregnant. But she wanted to move a few states away to raise the kid closer to her family. And it wasn't his fault, you know? It wasn't like he purposely chose to move away from me, but I felt like I was abandoned again."
Steve wipes a tear from his eye and puts his head in his hands. "God, I don't know why I'm even telling you this story. Sorry."
"Don't apologize," Eddie says quickly. He pauses and shifts on the stool, his gaze being far away. "I remember him. He was one of the only gym teachers that defended me against all the shitty middle school bullies. He was a good person.”
Steve nods. God, he was a good person.
Eddie continues, “I'm sorry that he left. And I bet he still regrets leaving you behind."
Steve leans back against the couch and looks away, shaking his head. "I bet he forgot about me."
"You're kind of hard to forget."
Steve looks at Eddie and sees a slight blush on his cheeks as he shakes his head and waves his hands as if trying to make the comment go away. "What I mean is that there's no way he's forgotten about you. Someone who you used to have lunch with all the time to the point of giving you free food... Nah, man. He remembers you. I think you may have been as important to him as he was to you."
The thought breaks away at a wall Steve had built up long ago. "Thanks," he practically whispers.
Eddie just smiles at him, small dimples appearing on his cheeks.
"You didn't deserve it either, you know," Steve says. "The absent parent stuff. Even with Wayne, they should've been here too."
Eddie's smile falters a bit as he swallows and looks at the ground. "Thanks," he mumbles. He looks up at Steve and comments, "Getting sappy with Steve Harrington. Who knew."
"Yeah, getting sappy with Eddie Munson," Steve echoes back at him.
Eddie laughs, "I'm surprised you even know my name."
"You're kind of hard to forget," Steve says easily.
That same blush comes back to Eddie who shifts in his chair a bit as if he needs to process the information with his whole body.
They sit in the moment for a bit before Eddie gets a somewhat serious look on his face and offers, "You know, I'm definitely not a parent figure or anything, but I'm always here and around to talk about that whole thing if you need to."
Steve's heart beats a little faster at the sheer genuineness. "Same here," he can't help but offer in return. He glances down at his watch and sighs, "It's getting late, so I better..."
"Right," Eddie says, standing up and leading him to the door. "Do you need water for the road or anything?"
Steve smiles and pats him on the back without thinking too hard about it. "I'm good, man. But thank you. For everything really."
"Sorry for being an asshole," Eddie apologizes again.
"Usually that's my line," Steve accidentally voices before cringing a bit, wondering further why Eddie's been so kind to him.
But as he opens the door, Eddie comments, "I don't know. It seems like Dustin was right about the whole reformed jock thing. Maybe your crown really has fallen - which is a good thing by the way."
Steve slightly smiles at him before he turns to leave. But he can't help but say, "I wonder what the neighbors will think about me leaving your trailer so late."
Eddie groans then laughs. "Sorry to ruin your image."
"I wouldn't mind," Steve replies, honestly unsure what he means by that. "Goodnight, Eddie."
"Goodnight, Steve," Eddie says, that same blush on his cheeks, only this time Steve isn't sure if it's something he said or a result of the cold night air.
In bed that night, Steve feels a slight weight lifted from him and can't help but feel like he’s a little less alone.
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tacticaldiary · 9 months
Text
A Cracked And Fissured Door
Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader
Genre: Hurt/Comfort
"You just...you make me feel like you only want me when nobody's looking."
It stings, if she's being honest. Being kept at an arms length when in public. Most people know about them, so she's not sure why he's so...cold and distant when they're not alone.
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"If he sends us out before next week I'm quitting." Soap groans, back cracking as he flops down forward on the bar. "Three ops in a week? What do I look like, a machine?"
Gaz snickers, raising his glass to that. "Bloody might well be at this point."
She hides a smile behind her own drink, leaning back into the bar. They had done three ops in a week, mission after mission after mission. It had been pretty rough, just as Soap said and she was more than ready to crash and burn and sleep for three days straight but abandoning their tradition of getting drinks at this specific bar everything Saturday was not something anyone on the 141 was willing to break.
"Just be glad we got the weekend off." Ghost says from beside her. She smiles warmly at him, is rewarded with a slightly blank look.
The flicker of her smile is hid behind another sip.
"Betcha your gonna take advantage of that, eh?" Soap nudges her, looking pointedly between her and Ghost. The latter rolls his eyes and says nothing.
"Only thing I'm looking forward to is an actual mattress." She knocks back the last of her drink and stands, shrugging Gaz's arm slung over her shoulder. "Speaking of which, I think it's about time we call it a night." Casting a glance at her boyfriend, who merely nods in confirmation and pushes the stool back himself, she nods at the others. "Don't cause too much trouble, boys. Text us when you're home safe, yeah?"
"We just got shot at for a week, don't think a car ride home is gonna be the end of us." Soap snorts.
"You never know." Is all she says before stepping out of the bar with Ghost, who offers her her coat to shrug on.
"Hell of a week." She comments, glancing at him gratefully as she shrugs on the warm fabric.
"Just glad it's over," Simon says simply.
Walking back to their car, she can't help but cast quiet glances at him as they walk. She knows Ghost notices them, chooses to keep looking ahead and keep the silence.
Truth be told, she aches to touch him.
Aches to feel his skin on hers, to feel the callouses of his hands brush against hers. His heat, ever all-encompassing makes her feel safe in a way no bulletproof vest ever could.
"Think I might ask Price to assign me desk duty for a while." She jokes, knocking their shoulders together gently.
To the untrained eye, to someone who might not have been tuned to what makes Simon Simon, it wouldn't have been noticeable, but he leans subtly away so they don't touch again.
She doesn't mention it, but it makes her heart heavy.
It's nothing new. She's not sure why she's even surprised anymore.
Trying again, her arm hangs beside her, purposefully brushing against his gloves. The frown on her face deepens when he shoves his hands into his pockets.
Maybe it's the exhausting week she's had, but it gets to her, infects her heart, mind, and soul with the insecurity she keeps locked behind a cracked and fissured door in her mind.
It stings, if she's being honest.
He's not the most...social person. Closed off and private, but baring her soul to someone she loves and getting so little in return...
Being kept at an arm's length when in public, even though their relationship is not a secret. Most people know, actually, so she's not sure why he's so...cold and distant when they're not alone.
The car ride home is silent, but not in a comfortable way their quiet is usually shared. Simon seems to pick up on it, because he grips the steering wheel a little too hard, the tension in his shoulders a little too foreign.
Gaz had no problem touching her. A friendly punch to the arm, an arm around her shoulder. Soap was a touchy person by nature, nudging her and ruffling her hair.
So why was it that Simon always pulled away?
The one person who should love her the most, who should be proud of loving her...why does he pull away and pretend this thing between them doesn't exist.
She doesn't get it, hasn't understood for the past two years they've been together. Pushing was not something she'd considered given his stubbornness and private nature, but there's no denying she's always felt a twinge of hurt whenever he disregards her in public.
Was he...ashamed? Of her? Did he not want to be seen with her?
The thought latches itself onto her, sucking away the usual confidence she carries and leaving her a nervous mess. It makes her sick. Before she knows it they're back home but she can't find herself to walk any farther than the front door that's shut behind her.
He doesn't comment on it, just casts her an inquisitive look before moving to the kitchen in view.
Simon always did like a cup of tea before bed.
"Simon?" The word comes out a little garbled, caught in her indecision, and morphed into something muffled. He hears it, because of course he does, and hums. Doesn't look up from where he's rifling through the cupboards for his kettle.
The air is cold in her lungs, freezes up with nerves, and this is all so ridiculous. It's stupid and she shouldn't be feeling this way but she does because she just does.
Trust was a precious jewel, a diamond only given to those who trusted enough to keep it unmarred. Necklaces and earrings and bracelets, she feels like she could make millions of intricate pieces with the bits of trust she had bared for Simon to take and keep as his own.
Simon knows what she loves, what she hates, how she feels about anything and everything. The rhyme and reasons, the way she ticks, and what throws her off kilter. He knows it all, it's been given willingly and eagerly to the man who took her heart with that rough demeanour on the tarmac two years ago.
She had given him all her gems, the shiniest and the dullest ones, but he's never even been bothered to spare her a piece of coal.
When she doesn't speak immediately, he pauses his movements and sets down the kettle on the counter with a 'clink'. "What's the matter, love?" He straightens up.
"Do you want to be with me?" She blurts out, unable to fathom leaving this conversation for another day. Not when she's so worked up and hurt and feeling.
His face stays blank, and when he responds it's almost as if he's doing it carefully. "What do you mean?"
"I mean what I asked." The sides of her coat are clutched with a knuckle-white grip, nausea making her an inch away from ruining the lovely carpet they'd picked out together when they'd first moved in.
Simon furrows his brows. "I'm here, aren't I?"
"That's not what I asked." Unease starts to curl up in her gut. "Do you like me, Simon?"
"Of course I fucking like you, what are you talking about?"
"You sure don't act like it."
There.
It's in the open now. Simon stares at her for a moment, shocked or stunned or whatever emotion that causes him to clam up for a moment.
He never really was good at this part of their relationship, but this...it was vital. It was important because she refuses to let this problem define what they have together.
"You don't touch me when we're not alone." She starts, "You act like I'm just no one when we're out together. You barely acknowledge me any more than anybody else, pull away when I try to touch you." It feels good to let this all off her chest. Months and months of trying to figure out what was going on. "Tell me why. I just want to know why."
"I'm a private person-"
"No Simon, that's not what this is." She shakes her head, emotion rising inside her. "You just...you make me feel like you only want me when nobody's looking. Like I'm...like you want to keep me a secret."
Her eyes are glassy because saying it hurts so fucking much, but it needs to be said. It needs to be voiced, he needs to listen and acknowledge-
"You know that's not true, so it shouldn't be a bloody problem-"
"Do I?" A laugh burst out of her, unexpected and short. It's enough to cut him off, cause him to narrow his eyes. "You've never told or indicated that to me. Not once. Not in two years."
"It's common sense. I wouldn't be with you if I didn't want you." She can tell he's trying to stay level, to meet her in the middle but all caution gets thrown to the wind because is he really trying to argue with her on this?
"No, it's not." She insists, trying not to raise her voice as anger bubbles up inside her. Was he not getting it? Not understanding that this was hurting her? That he was hurting her? "Sometimes I-..." She swallows, "Sometimes I'll be having a great time, like today. I'll be laughing and enjoying myself and then I'll glance at you, or try and do something as simple as brush shoulders, and I'll watch you push me away. Or pull away." Her voice waver but she fights to keep it steady. "And it makes me feel miserable because what is it about me that makes my own boyfriend not want to accidentally touch me?"
"Why didn't you tell me before?" He says, hackles raised at being put on the spot like this. Ghost doesn't mean to, but this is all so new to him and the only thing he knows how to do in these rapidly changing situations is to be sharp and jagged and tense. "If you're so miserable, why are you still here?"
"Because I love you!" She cries out. "And I can't help but think that I might never get the same back from you." Her grip on her coat tightens.
There's a beat of silence.
"I never asked you to. You knew what you were getting yourself into."
His words cut through the quiet, as sharp as the blades he keeps strapped to his thigh.
"Oh, fuck you." She whispers. "Don't give me that bullshit. That's not an excuse for not trying-"
"Not trying?" His voice gets slightly louder. "I try every day. I try to be someone you deserve but you're bloody well making it difficult when-"
"Just stop!" She yells over him. "Stop. I'm not asking for something you can't give. I'm just asking for an explanation."
"I can't-"
"You can!" To her dismay, her eyes burn with tears that are bound to fall in a few seconds, but she's too far into it to turn around now. "It's been two fucking years, Simon. Two years. I've never pushed or pressured you, I've listened and sat here and tried to be the one you can come to, but you never do." She sniffles, wiping her tears away roughly.
He stays silent, visibly frustrated but letting her talk.
"Do you know what they say back at base?" She spits out. "About me? They say I've forced you into being with me." A hollow laugh. "That I've got some dirt on you that keeps you quiet, or that I'm just someone you pass the time at night with because everyone thinks that you want nothing to do with me during the day. They talk about why we're still together, why you're still with me when you clearly have no interest." Her tears are long forgotten, left to trail down her cheeks in rivers of hurt. "They say...they say I'm only on the 141 because of our relationship."
And that was what hurt the most. Her own skills undermined like that.
That startles him enough to pull his brows in confusion "I didn't know..."
"Of course you don't, why would they say it in front of the man who looks like he could snap their spines in half?"
She waits for him to speak. To say something, anything, but all he does is stare at her with those half-blank eyes that she can never decipher and it infuriates her because did he not just listen to what she's told him.
"You know what, forget it." She chokes out. "I'm done. I'm fucking done with this." She gestures to them both, vaguely watching his eyes widen with muted panic. Getting shoved into a woodchipper would be less painful than the hurt that tears through her chest, hiccupping on swallowed sobs.
"Hold on-"
"I can't be the only one keeping us both afloat." She reaches behind her for the doorknob. "I don't want that. I love you, Simon. I really do, but it hurts so fucking much when you act like I'm disposable, like you're ashamed of being seen with me."
The door is pulled open by her, and then roughly shoved shut by Simon. He moves quicker than she could register, behind the counter one moment and right in front of her the next. His hand stays firmly on the door, keeping it shut as he leans down to catch her gaze.
"Ashamed is the last thing I am about you." He says quickly, clumsily. "I-...fucking hell that's not right at all, love."
Simon is...he's panicking.
The thought strikes her immediately with the way his chest rises and falls quickly, the lack of that cold clipped grace in his voice.
"I don't care." She chokes on a cry, hands planting themselves firmly on his chest to shove him away. It's like nudging a brick wall. The man is immovable, standing in place with their bodies so close it feels like they're sharing heat. "I'm tired, and you're making it worse so let me go." He grabs her wrists, presses them against himself to keep her in place. His hands are warm, rid of the gloves he usually dons.
She's met with every inch of that scarred face of his. She hadn't noticed but he'd discarded his mask as he'd been rushing around the counter to get to her.
"Listen to me." He breathes, trying to get his thoughts straight and keep her there with him. He can't lose her, can't let her walk out the door because he's afraid that she might never come back. "Please."
It's the last word that pauses her struggle. Simon...he was someone who operated on orders and demands so the frantic and silent plea pushed into the word is enough to make her still for a moment.
And a moment is all he needs.
"I've never..." He thinks for a moment. Never has she seen him look so frazzled. He tries again. "Everyone I've ever loved has been killed." Her eyes widen at the declaration. "My family. My friends...everyone." His breath fans over her face with how he's leaned down, hot so very him. "I think I'm afraid if I show the world I love you it might try and take you from me too." Simon's voice breaks at the end, as if he's voiced something from his nightmares and despite the pain she's feeling the sound slices through her. "And I can't...I can't live with losing you too."
With bated breath, he waits for her to respond. Part of him can't bear to look her in the eyes after the admission but he finds himself staring at her face anyway, drinking in any sign of hope.
Hope. How long has it been since he's felt the warm rays of such a feeling?
Slowly, so slowly it makes his breath hitch, she tugs her hand free on his. For a moment Simon thinks she might push him away again and his heart sinks like a stone, but then her fingertips graze his face, her hands cup his cheeks and suddenly they interlock behind his head, pulling him in.
Simon crushes her into him, tucking her head under his chin with a shuddering breath of relief. He's not lost her, not completely.
Hope.
There was still such a thing for a man like him after all.
"I'm not going anywhere." She mumbles into the crook of his neck, the feeling of his lips moving on his skin sending a shiver up his spine. "I'm so sorry, Simon. If you'd told me that before I would have tried to help-..."
Simon shakes his head immediately, arms tightening around her. "I chose not to tell you. The thought of coming home and seeing you on the ground...bloody...like them." He swallows past the lump in his throat. "Fuck, I'm sorry I hurt you, sweetheart."
Simon didn't apologise often, so when he did that means he knows he's fucked up.
She does not tell him it's alright, that she forgives him or that he's fine. Because he's not. His apology, his honesty doesn't make the months of hurt go away. It still aches at her like before, but this time the ache has a meaning behind it. It has a reason.
They hold each other for a moment, against the door, two people knee-deep in a problem that's been brewing for weeks and weeks, bubbled over the edge in the ugliest way possible.
"I need you to try." She whispers after a moment, the barest of smiles gracing her face when he nods slowly.
"I know." He says simply against her hair. Gently swaying in each other's hold, both are content to stay there for a while, to calm their racing hearts with the knowledge that the other is still there, is real and solid under their hands.
And it's enough.
                                  · · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
Change is a slow trek to an ever extending finish line.
Simon keeps his word. If there's anything it's good at, it's resilience. Though it makes him antsy and paranoid and dare he say slightly nervous to open such a part of him to somebody again, he tries.
He tried because he'd rather saw his own arm off than be the one who gives her a reason to leave. Not her. Not the best thing that's happened to him in years, the person who's managed to wake up Simon after years of being Ghost.
A subtle brush of hands as they walk.
An arm around her shoulder while they drink.
Thighs and sides pressed together as they take their seats on a heli.
The squeeze of her knee from under the table.
It builds and builds into something warm and new and fresh, a feeling that overshadows all the worry he had about the universe having a vendetta against him because if there was one good thing that Simon Riley wanted to keep, it was her.
Their weekend is filled with conversations, real conversations about things they've kept to themselves, worries and concerns, and moments of hesitance. He tries his best, though some words die on his tongue before he can get them out. She pushes him, but never more than he can take. Heart, body, and soul, she knows him like the back of her hand but he's the only one who can truly let her into his mind.
All that aside Simon also has another more personal task to work through once their weekend is over.
After paying some not-so-nice visits to more than a dozen people (to his absolute fury), she never once hears a peep of another disgusting rumour ever again.
Requests Are Open! Reblog, Like and Comment!
(26/07/2023)
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dirtyvulture · 6 months
Text
Natasha Romanoff* x Fem!Reader
18+ only, read at your own risk
Requested by @amanda13parker: GP!Nat who has blanket consent from fem!R to use her whenever and Nat takes full advantage of it. Cooking? Not anymore she's not. Bent over the counter and stuffed. Watching a movie? Nope. Riding Nat and bouncing on her ... thing... Sleeping? Woke up to being bred. And R is loving every second of it while being praised and a bit degraded, being called by Nat her good girl and her breeding slut since she enjoys it so much.
AN: Enjoy, friend! And everyone should go check out your artwork. 👀 This is basically just porn with no plot, so keep scrolling if you're looking for something with substance. 😂
*Nat has a penis.
You hear the front door slam open and Natasha trudge inside, dropping her heavy work bag to the floor.
"I'm in the kitchen!" you call out, although you know she can guess where you are based on the smell of your cooking. You're almost done now, the stew aromatic and bubbling in the pot, and you're taking the freshly baked bread out of the oven when Natasha walks in.
Just as you set the hot pan on the counter, you feel Natasha's arms coil around your waist, her front pressing against your back, her weight heavy and warm against you.
"That smells so good, baby," she whispers into your ear and your heart rate quickens when you feel her bulge press against your butt.
"Are you hungry?" you ask.
"For you," she responds, and before you can protest, Natasha has you turned around, facing the counter. Your shorts are on the floor as she wrestles out of her pants, her strong hands lifting your hips up to angle yourself back.
"Oh Nat," you moan as her thick cock slides through your center. You feel yourself dripping onto her in record time and you're glad she can't see how red you are in the face at how quickly she turns you on. Her fingers part your folds and rub your clit roughly, causing you to keen louder and thrust back, the emptiness in your core begging to be filled by her.
Natasha throbs at the noises you make, her breathing picking up as she prepares you for her. She slaps her cock against your butt before sliding in, grunting as you tighten and convulse around her.
"Fuck babe, your'e so big," you pant, pushing back to take her entire length. Natasha slams her hips forward, almost sending you crashing into the counter, setting a hard and face pace you can barely keep up with.
Good thing the bread is already out of the oven, because you have no chance of going anywhere now.
Natasha's grip on your waist tightens to keep you in place as she slams into you over and over, the tip of her cock brushing the sensitive spot inside of you with every thrust. You're almost standing on your tiptoes as you try to angle yourself to fit her better, moaning in ecstasy at the thought of her using you like a personal Fleshlight.
"Right there, Nat. Right there. Please don't stop," you beg, holding onto the edge of the counter so tightly if it weren't made of granite a piece would have snapped off.
"Look at you taking me so well. My good girl," Natasha grunts, losing some of her rhythm as she nears her release. The slick noises of sex fill the kitchen, and with one final thrust you come undone, spilling all over her cock.
***********************************************************************
Movie nights don't always go as planned for the two of you either. More than half the time they end up with both of you on top of each other, Natasha's cock somehow finding its way inside of you every time. But you don't mind. You love being bred by your girlfriend and even if your favorite movie of all time was playing, you'd gladly let yourself be taken any way Natasha wants.
And if being dragged onto Natasha's lap halfway through a movie and made to ride her cock until your legs were shaking and you were seeing stars wasn't enough, Natasha has the audacity to wake you up in the middle of the night, already with her cock between your legs, hard and ready for another round.
Both of you are lying on your sides, and you lift your leg higher to give her easier access to sink into you to the hilt. Your brain is a scrambled mess from being woken up so suddenly and fucked so frequently, but you don't mind at all. You love being used by Natasha and you love making her feel good.
The bed rocks as Natasha thrusts into you, holding onto your leg to keep them separated.
"You like being woken up just to be bred like the slut you are?" she grunts into your ear.
"Yes, yes!" you respond, reaching back to tangle your hand in her hair, dragging her head down into the crook of your neck.
"Who's slut are you?" Natasha asks, her thrusts quickening. She will never get over how well you take her, like your pussy was meant for her cock and her cock only.
"Yours!" you pant, slick running down the inside of your thigh. You aren't even sure if you've cum already, but Natasha gives no signs of slowing down as she plows into you. She gropes onto your breasts, biting bruises onto your neck and shoulders, handling you roughly as she searches for her release. And you're happy to lie there and be used, your body in a state of euphoria as Natasha finally cums into you, the hot pulses of her seed triggering yet another orgasm from you, and you go limp in her arms.
"That's my good girl," Natasha murmurs into your sweaty neck. "You'll look so beautiful carrying my child."
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
AN: Please like, comment, and reblog! Follow for more content. 🥰
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weird-is-life · 3 months
Note
steve request🩷🩷
soo reader is drunk and at a party. maybe someone at the party calls steve who is her bestie to come pick her up. he’s out with eddie, robin and nancy at the time and they go and pick her up. because she’s drunk she’s so clingy with steve and doesnt want to be away from him and the rest of the gang make fun of him for it. he loves it really tho🩷
Ty for the request, lovely💕! Hope this is okay, warnings: fluff, use of pet names, mentions of parties, drinking, getting left alone by friends at a party, (0.6k)
Steve finds you sitting with your head down on the stairs of the house. The closer he gets to you, the louder the music is and he winces as he remembers how he used live for these kind of parties.
Now looking at you, he can only think of it as something he hates. Sure, the dancing, the drinks are fun, but getting left alone by friends isn't. Steve can't even count, how many times he was left alone at some party. It's too many.
He hates that your friends left you alone, but he's glad you called him, because he can now make sure you're gonna be okay.
He approaches you carefully, so he doesn't scare you, "Hi, sweetheart."
You immediately cheer up, lifting your head up quickly. You smile big at him and basically throw yourself around his neck, almost knocking him to the ground.
"Woah, woah, I'm happy to see you, too," Steve chuckles and hugs you back.
"Stevie, what are you doing here?" you ask happily. You called Steve to pick you up, which you clearly don't remember anymore.
"I came to take you home," he tells you amused, "c'mon let's get you moving."
Steve stands both of you up and you don't let go off of him, even as he starts to walk you to the car. And he's okay with that, he doesn't mind, that you've leaned with almost your entire weight against him.
What gets him a little flustered are your words. You start whispering all kind of nice words, compliments to him, that he's sure, you would be too shy to say sober.
By the time, you get to the car, Steve's cheeks are burning. He curses under his breath, because he knows, he's going to be teased even before he steps a foot into the car.
And he's right. Straight away Eddie, Robin and Nancy grin at him. You notice the three of them and smile drunkenly at them.
"Hi guys, you came, too?" you ask as you plop yourself without a care in the world next to Robin sitting in the back seat.
"Hi babe, " Robin greets you, while Steve squeezes in the seat next to you.
Your attention immediately goes from Robin back to Steve. You slide closer to him, as close as you can and you almost end up sitting in his lap. They all laugh at that.
"I missed you, Stevie, " you whisper, or more like you tell him very loudly, so the whole car hears it. Steve chuckles, because you were together few hours ago.
"I missed you, too." Steve tells you and puts one arm around you. You snuggle impossibly closer to him.
"I didn't sign up for this cuddle session, when I agreed to drive," Eddie mutters from the front of the car.
"Sorry, Eds. Did you want a hug, too?" you ask innocently.
"No, no, it's okay, you just keep hugging Steve. Lord knows how much he loves it," Eddie teases Steve again and Steve just glares at him. But it's true. He loves being close to you, maybe it's because he loves you. And maybe he'd get to hold you close more often, if he had the guts to confess his feelings to you.
"I love it, too, Stevie," you state and hide your face into Steve's front. It takes you only a few minutes to fall asleep, completely at ease in Steve's arms.
Steve can only smile and hold you tightly, as the blush comes back to his cheeks. He ignores the teasing smirks and looks from everybody.
Steve will survive the teasing, if it means he gets to hold you close. Anytime.
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ew-selfish-art · 9 months
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Dp x Dc AU: Not exactly a meet cute between Jazz and Jason.
Jason's had a long night of beating the shit out of a gang that dared to sell in his territory, the last thing he needs is the Bats on his tail. He can always sense them when he leaves Crime Alley- they watch for him. Waiting for him to fail. It pisses him off.
So Jason shakes his tail, he's pretty sure it's the demon brat, parks his bike, removes his helm and heads into the loudest bar he can find, ditching his mask along the way. There are no camera's and there was no one watching, so Jason just looks like any other angry frat guy at the bar. Well, he supposes that the Leather jacket might be a stand out.
He grabs a drink, and looks at the time. Jason just needs to wait out the chance that a baby bird saw his bike and hope that curfew kicks in before this has to be a 'conversation'. Besides, the music is good and despite all the people, the crowd is pretty behaved.
"Hi! I'm so glad you're here!" A woman approaches, he can tell she's had a few drinks from her walk but her eyes scream sobriety and fear. She's tall in her flats, her hair looks disheveled (from dancing maybe) and her outfit screams 'this is the one fun black top I own'. She's beautiful and her approaching him might've been a wet teenage dream if his suspicions weren't immediately raised.
"I certainly am here." Jason replies, a smirk set into his features easily and as he straightens out his back he can see the three men watching the back of her head like predators. They're wearing super lame white hoodies and coats, like they're organized somehow.
"That's why you're my hero! Always ready to grab me at a moment's notice! Any chance you'll be good to leave after you finish that drink?" Her eyes are pleading but she keeps the same happy smile and joyful tone the whole time.
"Nah, no worries about the drink. It was cheap and I was just getting bored with it anyway. " Jason explains, setting his glass down on the counter. He's mentally photographed the three creeps, "Did any of your friends also need a ride home?"
"Nope! They all got in an uber... without me. So they'll be just fine!" She explains and there is an anger in her eyes that clearly meant she was telling the truth. Her hands are straightening out his jacket collar, making it look like they're more comfortable with each other than just strangers. She lays her hands flat on his chest once her task is completed and Jason feels his throat go dry.
"I'm always telling you to find better friends. Now c'mon, I parked out back." he wraps an arm around her waist, though its not tight, and peers over his shoulder. These guys weren't going to leave without a fight it seems, Dumb, Dumbie and Dumber are all watching her with evil in their eyes.
The two of them walk out and before she can even say thank you, the door swings back open and she's sucker punched one of the assholes and Jason's pulled his gun out for the other two.
"You gents are gunna go home, or you're gonna end up in the dirt. Pick." Jason growls. Not taking him seriously at first, he shoots one dudes foot and the last one standing looks like he might pass out. He picks up his fallen comrades and backs away into the bar.
"For ancients sake those dudes were trying to traffic the hell out of me." She sighs, and Jason holsters his gun.
"Yeah no shit. You okay?" Jason inquires.
"I will be. I'm Jazz, thanks for saving me Hood."
"I'm no-"
"You're literally leaning comfortably on Red Hoods motorcycle that still has his helmet perched on it. No one would do that unless they were suicidal or him." She challenges, but then a look changes in her eyes and she almost looks nervous "But still, do you uhm, wanna get out of here?"
He blinks. She was trying to pick him up? AFTER finding out he was a crime lord??
The answer is that yes, Hell Yes, Jason does want to get out of here. None of the Bats will bother him while he has a civilian, not at the diner he takes her too and certainly not while he's taking her back to one of his safe houses.
Jason had expected one of his siblings to show up in the morning and cause a ruckus. He hadn't planned for a dude to let himself into his kitchen screaming about government agencies tracking Jazz down that wasn't related. Turns out it's her brother and he's floating and no he's not going to explain why he's there or how he found them.
Jazz has a lot to explain to the both of them and it starts with "So I can admit that I have a thing for motorcycle guys-"
1K notes · View notes
tetsumie · 7 months
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“𝐘𝐎𝐔’𝐑𝐄 𝐒𝐎 𝐂𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐘” — 𝐏𝐓 𝟐
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read part 1 here!
pairing: kuroo x reader & kenma x reader
genre: hurt/comfort
a/n: hello !! sorry for being gone for soooo long D: i wasn’t doing well and was in a really bad place mentally.. (plus burnout 😓😓) but regardless tysm for all the love in the first part of this fic! i appreciate u all sm and i’ll work on getting asks in! thank u for being so patient w me !! luv u :D
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kuroo tetsuro
you woke up late today and weren't surprised that kuroo had already left for work by the time you woke up. but he did leave you a post-it note saying he made breakfast leftovers for you in the fridge.
you smile at the thought that kuroo took the time out of his day to make some food especially in the morning. however, as you're getting ready for the day, your eye catches the lunch bag that's sitting on the kitchen bar countertop.
"this idiot," you mumble, shaking your head with a smile on your face. you pull out your phone and shoot him a text.
y/n: thanks for the breakfast it was really good
tetsu: im glad :)
y/n: also you left your lunch at home stupid
tetsu: oh shit
tetsu: can you drop it off for me? i cant come home to pick up, im in a meeting rn
y/n: yeah that's fine
tetsu: thanks baby ill kiss u when i see u
tetsu: love u 2 the moon and back !!
y/n: ur so weird
y/n: love u 2 the moon and back <3
a few hours pass by and now you're taking the bus to head to kuroo's office with his lunch bag in hand. before leaving the house, you decided to swap his current lunch which was some leftovers with his favorite food, grilled salted mackerel.
you enter his office floor and are greeted by the office receptionist from the floor. "i'm just here to drop off some food for kuroo-san."
"oh yes, right this way," she stands up and opens the office door for you and points out where his room is.
as you're about to knock on his door, you hear his voice from the other side. "i'm not sure if i can come out tonight to eat kenma. y/n probably wants me home, you know how clingy they get sometimes."
your heart sinks to the floor.
has he always thought of me this way? clingy? i didn't mean to act that way? i just like being in his company. i didn't mean to be clingy. i didn't know he felt that way...
"anyways, i'll call you back kenma. i gotta get back to work. see ya later" he ends the call.
you take a deep breath, standing in front of the door, thinking about kuroo's words to his best friend. before you could even knock, the door opens and you're greeted by kuroo.
"oh y/n! you should've texted me you were here!"
you let out a laugh that sort of dies in your throat. "oh um i just wanted to surprise you that's all."
"come in, let's eat together. you can see the beautiful downtown view from here," he tries to usher you inside his personal office room.
you're a little uncomfortable so you hold yourself back from going on, "maybe another time, yeah? i gotta head back. i've got a lot of work to do with college and work and stuff."
"no yeah of course, i get it. work hard! but first..." kuroo smiles and before you can pull away, he kisses you on the head. "i'll see you when i get home. love you!"
too ashamed to even look at him as you walked out of his office, you just wave to him with your back facing him as you walked away.
you're now sitting on the bus on the way home, thinking about the way he called you clingy. "you know how clingy they get.." has he always thought i'm clingy? has he just been putting up with my annoying habits? i thought he liked the way i treated him. i didn't know he thought it was clingy.
you're trying to look back at your actions and now it's all coming back to you.
you're always trying to kiss him, hug him, cuddle him. you're always talking to him about random things from an occurrence at the grocery store to some new show you're watching. literally last night, you both were cuddling while watching a new episode of kuroo's favorite sit-com and you were running your fingers through his hair.
it all made sense.
you were clingy.
and he wanted space.
you were going to respect that.
kuroo comes home later that evening and announces himself with an "i'm home!"
you're on the dining table with the computer open, working on some new assignment and you smile at him. "welcome home," you say with a smile.
he's expecting you to get up and come over and hug him like you usually do but to his surprise, you continue to look back at your computer.
he assumes you're just busy and doesn't think much of it.
kuroo heads into the shared bedroom to unwind from his hectic day at work. he takes a shower and changes into some pajama pants and is now heading back to the living room to see what you're up to.
you're still sitting on the dining table with all your notebooks splayed out and computer open, working on what seems to be some really big project. he plops down next to you and starts squinting at the screen. he starts poking you to grab your attention from the screen.
"the mackerel was really good today."
"that's good."
silence envelops the atmosphere between the both of you until kuroo decides to speak again.
"what are you working on?"
"college stuff."
"maybe take a break now?" he suggests.
"i can't. it's due soon," your voice flat. "if you want dinner, there's some leftovers i made in the fridge."
"alright," he replies, getting up from the chair to the kitchen to warm up some food.
his shoulders droop a little. he was hoping to spend some time with you. but he is aware that something is off with you. he's not sure what it is but he knows something isn't right. you haven't given him a single kiss or even a hug since he's been back and your usual sarcastic remarks are gone.
you've barely even acknowledged his presence.
"maybe it's just an off day?" is what he convinces himself.
but those "off days" are starting to become more consistent.
you're out of bed before he wakes up in the morning and you barely talk to him when he comes home. you always end up sleeping after he falls asleep and he can't even stay up because of how exhausted he gets after work. the amount of physical affection has declined from you and every time he texts or talks to you, your replies are barely existent.
it feels like he's living by himself. when did it get so cold?
on the other hand, you think it's going well! you haven't been all up in his business lately. you're giving him the space he wants. you're hoping that kuroo is feeling much happier since you're smothering him less. sure, you miss getting to hold and cuddle him but this is what he wanted, right?
now that the week is over, kuroo is hoping to spend the weekend with you.
that morning, kuroo sets an alarm to wake up earlier than you in hopes of spending some extra affectionate time with you. however, the moment he wakes up, the other side of the bed is empty and cold.
he has no choice but to get out of bed to see where you are. there's no way you're up right now. at 7 am on a weekend? no way.
he walks out of the room and he feels his heart chip. you're sleeping on the couch, slightly shivering because the blanket you're using barely covers you. have you been sleeping on the couch this past week? why didn't i notice? kuroo begins to internally berate himself right now for letting you sleeping on the couch for this past week right under his nose.
with no hesitation, he bridal-style carries you back into the shared bedroom and tucks you under the duvet cover and comes back into bed.
however, you've already woken up and you sit up on the bed, startled. "w-what? where am i?"
he scoffs, "i brought you in our bedroom idiot."
"oh," you're now grabbing your stuff and climbing out to go back to the couch but kuroo stops you by grabbing your arm.
"where are you going?"
"to the couch?"
"but this is our bedroom?"
"no, this is your bedroom," you emphasize.
"y/n." his tone feels cold to you. "talk to me."
"we are talking, are we not?"
he starts scratching the back of his neck. "yes but you know it's not the same. what's going on baby?"
his hand to tries to reach your cheek to stroke it with his thumb but you turn away and immediately stand up from his bed. "it's okay kuroo, please go back to sleep. it's the weekend, you should rest."
his heart chips at the gesture. why are you avoiding him like this? what did he do? what happened to 'tetsu?'
"it's tetsu to you," he mumbles.
you open your mouth but shut it and cast you eyes away from his stare down at the floor.
"it's always been tetsu to you," he states.
you're still silent and he takes it as his queue to continue speaking.
"baby, everyday i come home from work and you barely acknowledge me. you're always busy doing 'college stuff' or something else. you barely hug me or even kiss me anymore. what happened? what did i do? did i do something wrong? did i overstep my boundaries? are you mad at me about something? please i wanna know what i did wrong so i can fix myself."
your heart softens at his words and you begin to immediately reassure him.
"there's nothing wrong with you... nothing has ever been wrong with you... i just want to work on giving you your space. i know that you think i'm clingy and so i wanted to work on just giving you room to breathe. i know i can be a little too much sometimes. i'm sorry for not realizing how clingy my actions were sooner. i'm sorry i-"
he immediately walks over to you and brings you to his chest, hugging you tightly. your eyes slightly widen. "don't you dare fucking apologize. it's not your fault. shit, it's never been your fault, baby. what made you even think that?"
in embarrassment, you mumble, "i heard you say i'm clingy to kenma. sorry i didn't mean to overhear."
"oh, my love," he pulls away and looks at you with a sad look in his eyes. "it's not what you think."
he sighs and he sits on the side of the bed and taps the bed space in front of him for you to sit down as well. "kenma's been trying to get me to go meet some new volleyball members to affiliate them with the jva and to be honest, i already have so much on my plate with the current affiliates, that i'm really trying to avoid going out for dinner with him. i'm trying to get one of my coworkers to go on my behalf to seal the deal but i can't find anyone willing to."
"i just used your name as an excuse. i swear on my life, i never really meant that. i never ever meant to hurt you."
still finding it hard to believe him, you mumble, "you don't need to lie.. i understand if-"
"y/n, i swear on my mother, i'm not lying," he interrupts. "every single fucking day, the only think i ever look forward to is seeing your beautiful face in my apartment. i look forward to your rambles about the new show you started watching or how the current professor you're shadowing is a douche. i love your bear hugs and i love the way you kiss me all over my face in the mornings. fuck, i love knowing that i get to go to sleep with you every night and i get to wake up to you every morning. i love you, just the way you are. please don't ever change yourself over some fucking lie i said."
"i'm so sorry y/n, so sorry for ever making you doubt my love for you," he intertwines his hand in yours and looks into your eyes. "i'll do anything to regain your trust.
he senses the hesitation in your eyes and honestly, he can't blame you. you've been harboring this guilt for a week and it makes sense that you're still feeling a little uncomfortable around him.
but to his surprise, you inch your way closer to him and hug his chest and the tears begin to fall. his body tenses and he feels so guilty about everything. he rubs reassuring circles on your back and kisses your head every few moments.
after you wipe your tears on his shirt, you look up at him and honestly kuroo hates to admit this but you still look gorgeous even with a tear stained face. he's grinning at you and begins to pepper your face with his kisses.
"love you to the moon and back," he whispers into your ear.
you chuckle and kiss him on the lips. "love you to the moon and back, tetsu."
in that moment, he swears to himself that he'll make sure that you never have to doubt his love for you ever again.
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kozume kenma
as the ceo of his own startup company, a youtube streamer, and a college student, kenma can almost never find any time to himself. the only time he really feels at peace is either when he's asleep or when he's with you.
but sometimes things get so hectic and suffocating, he just wants to be alone, away from the world.
after a long day of classes, you walk into your shared apartment and you can hear kenma talking from his bedroom/home office. you try to keep quiet not disturbing him.
in hopes of cheering him up, you decide what better way to do so by making his favorite food: apple pie. you put down your stuff on the living room couch, grab the apron, and get to work.
kenma stays locked up in his bedroom for the majority of time that you're baking and a part of you just hopes that maybe he'll come out to just say "hi" or just accompany you to see what you're up to but unfortunately he doesn't.
after the pie is done baking in the oven and you've brought him a slice so he can get some food in his system because you're sure he hasn't been taking care of himself. you're hoping that maybe, just maybe, the both of you will finally get to spend some time together.
you knock on the door twice.
no response.
you knock once more and call out his name, "kenma, you busy still?"
still no response.
you sigh, realizing there was no hope in knocking, and decide to twist the knob and enter his room. you're greeted with the sight of him sitting on his gaming chair, knees to his chest, headphones over his ears, and slightly biting the eraser top of his pencil.
he must have felt the presence of someone else in the room with him because he looked away from his computer screen and his eyes widened. he slid his headphones off his ear and hung them around his neck.
"how long have you been home?" he bluntly asks.
"for an hour or two now, i think," you reply.
“oh sorry, i didn’t see you,” he mumbles.
you chuckle in response. “i didn’t think you would considering you’ve been cooped up in your room the entire time.”
“well yeah,” he says. “i’m busy.”
as he’s about to put his headphones back on and get back to work, you speak up. “i know you’re busy but do you wanna eat with me? i made-”
“can we talk later? i don’t have time for your clinginess right now.”
oh.
he puts his headphones on and indulges himself back in his work, not even registering the weight of his words.
you slowly walk out of his room, silently close the door, grab yourself a slice of apple pie originally made for the both of you, and plop yourself on the couch to watch some new show on the television.
after working for nearly hours on end, kenma finally finishes the load of work he had piled. now all he wants to do is just spend some time with you before going to bed. he walks out of the bedroom and is greeted by you asleep with the television humming in the background.
he can't help but let a small smile envelop his features. it's such a domestic sight and he wants to photograph this moment in time.
he knows he said some harsh words to you out of frustration but he hopes that you understand that he didn’t truly mean them.
he goes over and kisses your forehead and he smells the distinctive scent of apple pie and his heart softens at the thought that you made him his favorite food.
he goes over to his bedroom, grabs a blanket and lays it over you and goes under the blanket, snuggling himself closer to you. he hasn't felt this relaxed in a while and your presence is just so comforting to him.
he doesn't know what he'd do without you.
the next morning, you wake up and find yourself in an awkward position and your feel arms wrapped around your torso. you look to your left and are greeted by kenma's sleeping figure and you can't help but smile.
but you remind yourself of what he told you yesterday and you silently get up from the couch and begin to get ready for the rest of your day.
his words, "i don't have time for your clinginess right now", really had sent you into a spiral last night and you were too exhausted to think clearly. did you always come off as clingy to him? you were definitely a bit more energetic and enthusiastic than him but you never thought it was clingy?
you can't seem to think straight so you decide to maybe go out for a walk, just to take your mind off things. you just need some time alone, away from your apartment with him.
kenma wakes up only a few minutes later and he feels cold. his neck is sore, considering how he slept in an uncomfortable position because he wanted to sleep with you. however, to his surprise, he doesn't find you asleep next to him.
as he walks around the house, calling your name, a sense of urgency begins to form in the pit of his stomach.
he dials your number and it goes to voicemail.
he does it again. still voicemail.
he's about to call you one more time until he hears the jangle of keys and the door opening. a sigh of relief leaves his mouth and as you're about to turn your keys to open the door, he's a step ahead of you, opening the door for you.
"oh my god, i thought you went missing," kenma hugs you, catching you by surprise. "where'd you go?"
hesitant to reply, you say, "oh just went on a walk, that's all."
"you should've told me, we could've gone together," he states. "i feel like we haven't seen each other in forever."
"it's fine. don't worry about it."
there's something wrong and he can sense it in your demeanor. as you're heading to the master bedroom, he can see the way your shoulders slump as you put your keys back. he doesn't address your distant behavior, thinking that you're just having a rough morning and it'll get better as the day goes on.
unfortunately, it doesn't get better.
you seem to be fine but you just feel incredibly distant.
kenma's been playing games in his room all day and unlike usual, you're not in his bedroom watching him play or sitting on the bed scrolling through your phone. his gaming experience isn't the same when you're not there.
he pauses his game and goes out to the living room to see you lying down on the couch, scrolling through videos on your phone. he wants to ask why you're not staying with him but he doesn't want to make overstep your boundaries, especially since it seems like you're not in a good mood.
but that's anything from what you want.
you want him to ask you to stay in his room and keep you company. but because he hasn't done so, his word "clingy" began to scream louder in your head and to be frank, that's the only thing roaming in your head.
"do you want to do anything today?" he asks. "you know.. because it's the weekend and we can go out if you want? like going out to eat?"
a part of you began to feel guilty considering he was thinking about what you wanted to do and you hated feeling like a burden towards him. he already expressed his disapproval with you when he said he found you clingy so you didn't want to impose any further.
"no it's okay," you reply, eyes glued to your phone. "i don't want to annoy you or anything.. so i'll just go on my own or something..."
he hums in response but his eyebrows furrow as he doesn't seem to move from his spot. he can tell there's something wrong and you're obviously being very dodgy with him about the subject which is why he decides to take a seat on the couch and snatch your phone from your hands before you can even register what's happened.
"hey give me back my phone!" you sit up, stretching yourself over to grab your phone back from him in a failed attempt.
"not until you tell me what's wrong," he says flat.
you sigh, knowing that this conversation isn't inevitable. you can't avoid him forever "you called me clingy yesterday, kenma. sorry that i don't really want to hang out with you right now."
the words that leave your mouth have kenma in a state of shock. you took that seriously? you really thought he meant that? in order to ease his busy day of meetings back to back, you came home baked him some apple pie to ease him from his stresses.
and what did he do in return? called you clingy when you just wanted to spend some well-deserved time with him. god, he was being so ungrateful. his body fills with guilt when he he realizes you took his comment to heart.
“honey, i-” he starts and then is cut off with your words.
"i understand where you were coming from, i like to show my affection with you through physical touch and i know you’ve never been one to really reciprocate that," you begin to ramble. "so i’m really sorry for pushing your boundaries and i’ll give you the space that you need."
guilt is eating him away and he needs to clear the air now, otherwise you might be closed off forever and he’s not sure if he’s ever going to be able to reconnect with you.
“y/n, honey, don't apologize for this. it’s not your fault at all,” he starts. he puts down the phone onto the couch and grabs both of your hands and squeezes them assuringly. “i'm sorry for pushing you away and calling you clingy. you didn't.. you never deserve to be told that."
his hand finds its way to your cheek and he begins to rub comforting slow circles. seeing the sullen look on your face made him realize that he never wants to see you like this ever again. it was like you had lost the light in your eyes. kenma hated how he had diminished that so quickly by making you think that he didn't like your company.
he loves you so much; he could never imagine what life would be like without your presence.
a small smile begins to creep back on to your face and kenma finds himself in a slight sense of relief.
"it's okay," you finally utter out. "do you wanna watch that new episode? apparently there is so much drama now and i'm avoiding socials so i don't get spoiled..."
he chuckles, "i'll do anything with you."
he knows that he can't take back his words from before but as he's sitting on the couch with you in his embrace, he knows he can show you his love through his actions. he'll do anything to bring back that trust to you.
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© tetsumie 2023 all rights reserved 
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3K notes · View notes
luveline · 7 months
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Badass!reader in the verge of crying but still pretending like she isn't? Spencer doesn't even try anything and he just lets her be until eventually she cries? Just some hurt/comfort :)
If it's a no please feel free to ignore this! Have a lovely day jade <3
tysm! hope this is okay angel ♡ fem!reader, 1k
"Irresponsible, sloppy, and pig-headed." Spencer winces. "I expected more from you. I'm extremely disappointed." 
Spencer winces worse. You can take a scolding. You can take a beating. But disappointing the people you care about, and disappointing Hotch? His chest hurts for you.
He pretends to have been reading as the door to Hotch's office opens and you step out, glancing up as you take the stairs down into the bullpen. Your desk is adjacent his and Morgan's, crowded by case files you nearly send flying as you hurry into your chair. 
Spencer takes his computer mouse and clicks on the work contact page. Your instant messaging is still open, the last message he sent you glaring and awkward, hey, think hotch is going to call you in for cincinnati. don't stress. 
You'd opened it but not answered. He peeks around your monitors to analyse you. You're staring hard at a single spot. The longer he looks, the glassier your eyes become. 
He sighs and cracks his knuckles, thinking. The last thing you want is for him to make a big deal of this, he knows that, but he needs you to know that he's here for you. 
"Did you want to get dinner tonight?" he asks without raising his head. 
You respond eventually, two seconds too slowly, "Where from?"
Your voice is fraught with the weight of your upset. Spencer ignores it for now. "Luh Bem?" 
"If you want to." 
"What I want is a cup of coffee." He stands, still without staring at you —an impressive feat of self control— and begins toward the office kitchenette. Predictably, you follow him. He's already putting a second mug beside his own when you step into his reach. 
"So, did you want to go?" you ask. 
Spencer nudges your hip with his gently. "Duh. What else would I wanna do on a Friday?" He makes your coffee exactly how you like it without asking and leaves it billowing steam by his own as he adds his five sugars. 
Bringing his coffee to his lips and turns, he leans on the counter. You do as he does, murmuring a thank you as you pick up your mug. Spencer lets his arm rest on yours, ever so slightly taller, more as your back begins to slouch unconsciously. There's no point in asking you if you're okay, because you'll say that you are. There's no point in trying to comfort you, because, despite your affection for him, you're not someone who cries easily in front of others. It would have you pushing him away. 
You're a nice girl under all your hardened exterior, and Hotch's disappointment hurts. You try very, very hard not to cry, swallowing and taking little sips of your hot coffee. 
You press your coffee into his hand and turn your body toward the cabinets, away from the office. Spencer waits, and waits, his relief immeasurable as you finally hide your face in his shirt sleeve and sniffle. Even though his heart breaks for you, he's glad you're giving in. You need to let stuff out before it eats you alive. 
He puts the coffees down behind him one at a time so as not to disturb you. Hands free, he lifts the hand furthest from you to your arm. If you were somewhere more private he'd hug you to him by the small of your waist. For now, he rubs a short line down to your elbow. Up, down.
"He was being harsh," Spencer says quietly. 
"Sorry," you whisper. 
He can't imagine how mortified you are. You won't sob or even shake, but these hot and fast tears aren't unfamiliar to him. Theyll be followed by an abundance of remorse.
"What are you sorry for?" He pulls you in closer, a squeeze of a hug. "You're okay. It's okay, he's just– he's mad about other stuff, he's upset about Beth. It's not just you." 
"He's right, I messed up," you say, your breath hitching. 
"You messed up," he agrees. "It was an accident. You'll be better next time." 
You sniffle rough and lift your face, wiping your tears with a cruel hand. Spencer takes your wrist in his hand to stop you, turninh to cover you from any nosy eyes. His fingertips are as soft as his voice wiping the rest of your tears away as he laments, "Please don't cry, don't get upset." Your face is hot to the touch. "Don't be embarrassed." 
"I'm not crying," you say, a last teardrop streaking from the corner of your eye. 
He wipes it away. "Okay." 
You pout at him like you want to cry more, and Spencer wouldn't mind, he'd stand here wiping your tears for hours if you needed it, but that's your worst nightmare. 
"Are people looking at me?" 
"Nobody's looking," he answers honestly. "You're only making a scene for me." 
You laugh but quickly cough. Spencer takes his opportunity to hug you and pats your back, considers kissing the side of your head but can't make himself commit to it. 
"Do you still wanna get dinner?" you ask weakly. 
"Yeah, I do. I really do. I'll get you whatever you want." 
If it were Morgan offering, you'd step on his foot. For Spencer, your clear and evident favourite, you nod into his chest, your hand slinking low on his back. 
He hugs you so hard he feels his ribs. 
"Wanna sleepover and watch Golden Girls?" he asks, prepared for rejection. You're the type to lick your wounds alone. 
But maybe in the privacy of Spencer's apartment you'll let yourself be upset properly, so he can comfort you appropriately. It aches how badly he wants to rub the tight space between your shoulders, tell you it's fine, you're fine, and one mistake doesn't define you, it never could. 
It's evidence of your affection for him that you agree. "Could we get the dinner to go?" you ask. 
Spencer tries not to look to triumphant. He's going to coddle and comfort you half to death, and by the looks of you, you're happy to let him. "Absolutely. Whatever you want." 
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gargoy-ross · 3 months
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The Vees with a s/o that likes to crochet + how they'd react if you gift them a plush of you two holding hands
First time posting on Tumblr, I know these are probably ooc. Gn reader, a bit suggestive on Val's. That's all, enjoy :)
Vox
Vox doesn't really understand your hobby, but hey, whatever makes you happy. Besides, he loves it when you run to him all giddy and exited to show off your latest creation. He'll let you sit on his lap while you crochet and he works. Just make sure your yarn doesn't get tangled up in the wires...
Giving him the plush
Keeping the gift as a surprise was hard, this man has cameras everywhere, but somehow you managed. And you're quite proud of yourself for that too. Now you're sitting in his office, waiting for him to get back from the meeting. You glance at the clock - it should end right about now.
As if on cue, Vox opens the door and as it slams shut you hear the most tired and annoyed sigh from him.
"Bad time?" You ask.
He shakes his head at the question. "Just a shitty meeting," He practically falls into his chair, "and an even shittier day."
He raises his brows and the annoyance is gone in an instant. "What's that for, doll?"
"I made this. For you." You smile awkwardly as you pass the box to him.
Vox carefully lifts the lid and takes the plush out. He examines it as if he wasn't quite sure what it was. The expression on his screen is unreadable, and his voice quieter than usual.
"You made this? You made... us?"
You nod and Vox's expression softens. He has already forgotten the stress from earlier.
"It's adorable. Thanks doll."
He smiles. Not the business man smile or the TV host smile, a genuine smile.
Valentino
Val thinks it's a waste of time. Why would you sit there, making stupid knots instead of, I don't know, spending time with him?! But, like Vox, if it makes you happy, he'll tolerate it.
Giving him the plush
You decide to present him with the plush one night after he's done with filming. So there you sit, on the couch in one of the backrooms in his studio, nervously fiddling with the gift. When Valentino steps in to the room he's surprised to see you. You don't usually spend time at the studio.
He's voice is ever so sultry when he addresses you. "Well hello sweetheart. Didn't know you were waiting for me." He then notices what your holding and snatches the plush from your hands, a teasing smile on he's face as he toys with it. "Oh my, what's this darling?"
You stand up. He cocks his head, making sure to hold the plush out of your reach.
"It's a gift. I though I'd be nice to give you something."
He's grin widens and he lifts your chin up with one of his hands. "Not exactly my style of a toy, but thank you sweetheart."
Velvet
Velvet would most be the most tolerant towards your yarn hording habits. She doesn't mind, as long as you keep your stuff separate from hers. If you have the talent, she might design accessories which she'll ask you to crochet for her. And, if you agree to it, she will make you a Sinstagram to show off all your creations.
Giving her the plush
Velvet is on her break when you decide visit her studio to give her the gift. You've put the plush in a gift bag hoping it wouldn't raise questions from her employees. While you don't think they'd make fun of you, you know how important the public appearances of you two were for Velvet.
It doesn't take long for you to find her, scrolling on her phone as she picks at her lunch. "I didn't know you were stopping by babe."
"I figured you'd be on your break about now." You say, handing her the bag. "This is for you."
She wastes no time taking the plush out. "Aww, you made us hold hands. It's adorable." She turns it around in her hands examining all the little details you've made. "You even got my outfit on point." She then leans in to give you a quick kiss on the cheek.
"I'm glad you liked it."
She has to soon get back to work, her collections need to be perfect for the next show, so you bid your goodbyes. Later that day you get a notification from your Sinstagram that you've been tagged on a post. You can't help but smile when you see the photo Velvet had posted to show off the plush.
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