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#THIS GAVE ME SO MUCH WHIPLASH I HAVE NO SKIN LEFT
a-writer · 2 months
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Dancing around - Azriel x reader
I'll never get over the fact that Nesta and Az danced together in Hewn City which means that it is canon that Az actually knows how to dance so... here goes nothing:) Also took some things from scenes in ACOSF and changed it up a bit!:) enjoy<3
Warnings: no actual smut but a lot of smutty talking and thoughts.
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"You don't have to do anything you don't wish to. But Elain mentioned that you have particular skill on the dance floor. Skill that once won you the hand of a duke in a single waltz." Rhys said as his eyes fixed upon Nesta.
Yes, sending her to dance with Eris was risky. But they didn't really have more options right now. Cassian wasn't looking too happy about that.
"Over my dead fucking body" He exploded. "Why can't (Y/N) do it?! She's a good fucking dancer, that's for sure."
"Thanks for the compliment, Cass." You smiled at him, his eyes full of hope for you to take his side. "But I'm with Rhys on this one. If I thought it was going to work I would do it, trust me... But Eris has known me for years, he knows I despise him. He's not going to buy the act and you know it. Plus, it will be fun to see Nesta toying with him." You gave her a wink while Cassian groaned.
"You want me to dance with Eris?" Nesta looked at you, but it was Rhys who answered.
"I want you to seduce him. Not into bed, but to make him realize what he might attain once he understands that we have no plans to break this alliance. To weigh the benefits more strongly than the risks."
"I'm sure you will do just fine, Nesta. I can show you all the dances so that you'll be prepared." You looked at her with bright eyes. Dancing lessons, always so fun.
"Nesta hasn't agreed to anything." Cassian snapped. "Even one dance with that prick is too much-"
"I'll do it." Nesta cut in, looking at you.
"Good" You smirked at her. "We start tomorrow."
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The Winter Solstice celebration was in full swing, people drinking and dancing to the beautiful music. With Rhysand and Feyre in the throne, you were sandwiched between Cassian and Azriel, the former glaring daggers at Eris' back while he danced with Nesta and the latter monitoring everything, his left wing resting lightly on your back.
"Fuck." Cassian growled. "I can't stand and watch this." He stormed off towards Mor, who was hiding behind a pillar on the other side of the throne.
"How long do you think will take them to realize?" A slow smile crept on your lips as you looked at Az.
"Realize what, Azriel?" Your innocent eyes met his cold stare. Everyone knew that they were mates. Everyone but Cassian and Nesta, apparently. And Eris, luckily.
"You look beautiful, (Y/N)." The sudden change of subject almost gave you whiplash. "As always."
His eyes roamed down your body, covered in a Night Court black dress that hugged every curve of your body. A small strip went around your neck and back, securing two pieces of fabric covering your breasts diagonally, forming a triangle that showed the tan skin of your torso, from the middle of your breasts until the top of your navel. A tight skirt was attached to it and your back was left exposed, your hair tied up in a tight ponytail that flowed down to the top of your ass. It seemed like time had stopped while Azriel's eyes covered your entire body. Finally returning to your face, his stare found your eyes and suddenly you felt a blush staining your cheeks.
"Uh..." You coughed, trying not to think too much about that stare. "Thanks, Az. You cleaned up nice, too." Winking at him, you turned to look straight once again.
Cleaning up nice wasn't enough to describe him. Az was... Az. His eyes, his body, his hair... All of him made you think the dirtiest thoughts ever. Like how his lips would feel against your skin, how having him look at you with that intensity in his eyes would feel while he was moving inside of you- Stop.
You needed to stop. You coughed again and felt Azriel looking at you again, a smirk covering his lips. Okey, maybe your smell had given away what your thoughts had been about, but he didn't know that you were thinking about him, did he?
Before you could overreact, he leaned towards you, his breath tickling the shell of your ear. You could feel goosebumps erupt all over your skin as he whispered. "Would you like to dance with me?"
You turned, your faces so close that your noses were almost touching, and you could see the amusement glinting in his eyes. Without breaking the eye contact, he lifted a hand in between your bodies and you took it, trying to calm the rapid beating of your heart.
"Sure, Az." Your voice was higher than you'd intended, but still you plastered a cool smile on your face and lead the way to the dance floor.
A new song began just as you were settling down in a circle of couples. You could spy a glint of red hair on your peripheral vision, and you knew that Eris and Nesta were still going. Good. She seemed like she was having fun, after all.
The music began and both of you bowed, presenting yourselves to one another. He offered one of his hands and you gladly took it, taking one step closer to him. His other hand snaked across your waist and settled on your back. It was cold compared to your burning skin, and you could feel a shiver running up your back. Trying to suppress it, you forced yourself to look up at Azriel, a small sigh leaving your lips.
He was handsome, beautiful. The kind of person who turned heads wherever he went. A small pang of jealousy filled your chest at that thought and you shoved it down. It was ridiculous. You and Az were nothing, even though your chemistry was something else, that was for sure.
Azriel began moving, leading both of you graciously across the dance floor.
"I'm always surprised to see how good of a dancer you are." You were looking at his shoulder, trying to calm down the raging fire burning your insides.
"You'll be surprised to know how good I am at many things, (Y/N)." You could feel his smile as he said the words, and it was clear that he was aware of your body. Of the goosebumps, of your galloping heart and of the sweet, imperceptible to everyone but him smell of your arousal.
You tilted your head back, looking him in the eye, and the color stained your cheeks as you already found him looking at you. And then you felt it too. His slightly dilated pupils, his tongue swipping on his bottom lip and... His smell. It was just a slight change, you wouldn't even have noticed it if it weren't for the way he was looking at you. But there it was. Something muskier, rougher. Darker.
"You could show me, you know." The words left your mouth before you could stop them.
You were always teasing Azriel, making jokes, giving him shit for always being so mysterious. But this felt different. It seemed like the whole room vanished and you were the only ones dancing around. His hand tightened on our back, bringing your body impossibly closer to him. You could feel his heart through your own chest, and a knowing smirk creeped over your face as you realized that it was beating as fast as yours. Azriel leaned once more, his mouth caressing your ear.
"I've been waiting to show you for a long, long time, (Y/N)." His voice was deeper, and you had a hard time suppressing a moan.
He moved away and you almost whined until you realized that the dance was over. You were about to grab his hand again and demand to know more about what he just said when Cassian appeared.
"Az, I need you to go dance with Nesta, please." He signaled with his head towards the throne. "Eris is talking with Rhys and I need to know what's going on."
"Sure, brother."
Cassian sprinted towards Mor once more and you were observing your High Lord and High Lady. Rhys wore a cool smile, just like Feyre, but you could sense the worry in her eyes. You didn't even see Azriel moving until the front of his body was flushed against your back, his hands possessively gripping your hips.
"Tonight is the night I'll show you everything that I'm good at." He lowered his head, pressing a quick kiss just below your ear. "And I'll show you everything I've been dying to do to you."
Your eyes almost rolled back into your head and you were about to become jelly in his hands, but you managed to turn around quickly, grabbing one of his hands before he could slip away.
"Make it a promise, Shadowsinger."
Azriel smiled and winked at you, before he went to find Nesta as the next dance began.
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astroboots · 11 months
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EVERY YOU EVERY ME: Issue #2
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Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x female reader
Summary: Your streak of bad luck continues as you find that the universe is not done putting you in harm's way. Luckily, you have grouchy Spider-man to save you.
Word count: 3,500 words.
Content: Slowest of the burn, near death experiences, the emotional whiplash of Miguel O'Hara being a rude bastard and a total softie.
Astroboot’s Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Spiderverse Masterlist
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According to an article that ran in the New York Times: one out of every 40 New Yorkers will have a run in with a Superhero in the time they live here.
That might not sound like much, but considering that nearly 8.5 million people live in this city, it adds up to a lot of people. In fact, most in your friends circle have their own anecdotal story to tell.
I ran into Tony Stark at the Brandy Library and he asked me for my phone number. Bit of a sleaze but he bought our whole table a round of drinks.
Captain America landed on my Fiat on Manhattan Bridge. He dented the roof, but he was very polite about it.
Daredevil was hanging out at the fire escape ladder above the Meatball shop. Gave me tips on what to order.
It's nothing short of a miracle that having lived in this city for as many years as you have that this is the first time you've had a Supes encounter.
It'll be a great story to tell at parties. You fell out of the Chrysler building and were rescued mid-air. It blows all the other stories out of the water. Though, you'll probably leave out the part where he wished he'd left you to die.
You stare blindly at your computer screen. There are endless rows of cells on your excel sheet no matter how far you scroll. Uninterrupted numbers and reference codes for insurance claims that are waiting for your attention. But the numbers and letters all blend into an indecipherable sludge soup. All you can focus on is: 'I should've let you fall.'
Heat prickles your cheek, as you replay his words in your head.
What the hell.
That was entirely unnecessary.
You didn't deserve that.
Over the course of the last 24 hours, you've played the scene on an endless loop in your head, until the memory is worn and scratched like a used up VHS tape.
Did you do something wrong? You must've. Who has ever heard of a Superhero treating a civilian in this manner? You’re just a hapless innocent bystander who fell out of a building due to a supervillain battle they started. To blame it on you and then call it a mistake. Isn't that something a supervillain would do?
Gritting your teeth, you feel yourself seething of the memory of the windows next to you breaking and shattering out of nowhere as a bird-person villain with mechanical wings tumbled past you. Next thing you knew you were tumbling out the window. 
And then he saved you.
Did he mean to save someone else? Is that why he was so annoyed? But, you didn't see any other people falling from the building on your way down.
You replay the memory. Again.
The looming silhouette of his towering frame over yours as he sneered down at you.
He looked at you like he knew you. Like you had offended him with your mere existence. But you don't understand how. You've never met him before. Never met anyone who looked even remotely like him. You would've remembered a man with red eyes, they're not exactly common. Plus, you don't think you've ever met someone quite so tall. Your neck hurt with the angle you had to crane just to look at his face.
What could you possibly have done in your lifetime to piss off a Superhero you've never met before?
For that matter what Superhero is he anyway? You think back at the dark navy suit clinging onto every inch of skin, embellished by that bright angry red in the emblem of a spider.
Spider-man... 
Except Spider-man is known to be a swell guy with a great sense of humor. Not a rude asshole.
Aren't his colors inverted too? You pull up the browser on your screen and google "spiderman outfit". There's over 800 million hits. In all of them Spiderman's suit is primarily red with blue embellishment.
Whoever the guy is, you don't think he's your friendly neighborhood Spiderman that every New Yorker knows and loves.
With a hapless sigh, you click aimlessly on your screen, trying to look busy at work for the next twenty minutes until you can go on your lunch break. You go through the motions of your soul sucking tasks. Tagging each insurance claim into one of the following categories: approved/rejected/further missing information required.
Peering over your cubicle wall to the wall of windows, you spy the section that has been zoned off since yesterday. The broken window you were knocked out of has already been replaced, but there's still shattered glass and debris nearby.
Your stomach drops, the phantom sensation of the ground beneath you giving way. For a brief second you swear you can feel the weightlessness of soaring through the skies without anything catching your fall.
You stand up from your desk, solid ground meeting the soles of your feet to remind you where you are. 
The office.
There's a monotone drone of workers all around you grumbling and sighing just as unhappily. The quiet tip-tapping of keyboards of the working masses.
Is this the life you managed to escape death for?
Is this it?
It's kind of sad isn't it? You nearly died and lived to tell the tale, only to return to a life so unremarkable your brain didn't deign it necessary to provide you with any highlights (cause there are none).
The most exciting thing that has happened to you the whole of this year was being insulted by a grumpy superhero. The most you've wanted to live was during that span of ten seconds when you were falling out of a building to your death.
You glance at your clock, still 15 minutes before noon. You log out of your desktop anyway.
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You barely make it across the street from your office. The light is green as you cross Lexington Avenue when the screeching noise of tires tears down the street and rips through your eardrums.
A yellow taxi hurtles towards you at full speed. Through the car window separating you, the cab driver is staring up at you with wide-eyed horror. In that fraction of a second before the hard metal is going to collide and shatter every bone in your body, you only have one thought: Oh god, this is going to hurt.
Life doesn't flash before your eyes. All you see is the familiar blur of shiny blue and red.
Go figure that's the only moment extraordinary enough for your brain to think it's worth replaying before you die.
There's a blunt and forceful shove to the side of your ribs. Softer than you would've imagined a two tonne vehicle slamming into you would be. It doesn't hurt. It reminds you of that time you played football with your cousin and he body slammed you to the lawn. You've heard about this phenomena, the brain will try to protect itself by going unconscious if the pain is too extreme.
But there's no bright light, when you open your eyes all you see is the familiar shiny blue fabric.
A firm weight wraps around your shoulders, and you recognize this, the feeling of being held as you're pulled into their solid chest. There's not enough time for you to look up, you're slammed onto the ground, the solid warmth wrapped around you, absorbing the fall.
The pressure wrapped around you shifts then lifts away entirely. When you open your eyes for a second time, there’s no one there holding you. 
There's no one else there with you. Just the standstill traffic of cars and pedestrians gawking at you.
A concerned woman runs over to you, bending down to help you up on your feet. "Are you okay? That car came out of nowhere."
Your legs feel unsteady, wobbling as you put weight on it to stand up. 
“I’m fine, I think,” you respond, and look down on yourself. There are no scrapes, just a bit of dust on your work-attire from traffic.
"You're so lucky, Spiderman was there to save you."
You blink up at the woman in dazed confusion and it takes your brain a few seconds to process what she's telling you.
Spider-man...
In your mind's eye the flashes of blue and a vivid red invades your vision. It wasn't just your life flashing you by. Not just a figment of your imagination.
He was here. He saved you. (Probably not) Spider-man saved you (again).
A wave of gratitude washes over you. You take back every unflattering thought you had about the man not five minutes ago. Rude? Would a rude man save you, not once but twice in one day? No, of course not, you probably just misunderstood him, or misheard. After all, if he truly regretted saving you, he wouldn't have done it a second time... right?
--
When you get back at your desk, there's a post-it tacked to your computer screen, with an angry scrawl of a handwriting.
'Look BOTH ways before crossing!!!!!'
You stare at the note, and the way the word "both" is capitalized and aggressively underlined.
Rude.
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The universe is out to kill you. You're sure of it.
They say that death comes in threes after all. So no one can blame you for being a little bit on the edge after you've gone two for two within the time span of 24 hours.
You stay away from windows in tall buildings. You look both ways, twice, before crossing the street. You try to go straight home from work the minute you clock out from work, turning down any and all initiations with friends to go out after out of precaution. It's just not worth the risk.
And for a while it seems to work. For a while, there are no more incidents. A week goes by and your nerves start to settle and you are lulled into a temporary sense of security before it all goes to shits.
A ceramic flower pot on a windowsill tumbling off the sixth floor of a brown house by Chelsea that would have dropped on your head and split your skull if someone hadn't bumped into you from behind that you weren’t able to catch sight of.
A piece of scaffolding that comes loose and falls from a construction site in West Village as you happened to walk past, and would have been crushed under if you weren’t tackled away at the last second by someone who fled the scene before you could thank them.
A hot dog cart runs amok, hurtling downhill towards you between 184th and 190th street in Manhattan when the cart suddenly out of nowhere, against the very laws of physics like it’s being pulled by an invisible force and changes direction mere inches in front of you, hurtling through the air and crashing into the windows of a bodega instead.
Each and every incident leaves you with an ever growing sense of paranoia that this cannot be explained away by being merely pure bad luck. There are cosmic forces at force that clearly want you dead.
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On Thursday, there are leftover cupcakes from a client conference. Mary, the secretary in your team, boxes up four of them for you and tells you to take them with you, because, "you've had a rough week, toots."
It’s not a flattering assessment of you, but when you see your own reflection in the mirrors of the office toilets, you can’t help but think it’s an accurate one. You look rough. Eyes bloodshot with deep furrowed lines underneath. Your face is gaunter than you remember seeing it too. 
You take the cupcakes. 
It's the first good thing that has happened to you all week, and as small of a comfort it is, you take it as a win.
You eye the box from your desk the rest of the day, squirreled away in your tiny cubicle. You are determined not to eat one while at work. Because you'll be damned if Matt from accounting catches a whiff of your cupcakes and asks you to share one with him. You want to properly savor them in the comfort of your home at the end of the day.
But as often is the case when you have something to look forward to, the seconds, minutes and hours tick away with a reluctant drag as if time itself knew you wanted the day to end faster and decided it'd be fun to flip yet another cosmic middle finger in your direction. 
When it's finally time to end work, you get off your chair so forcefully it knocks it to the floor. You are practically jogging through the lanes of cubicles to get to the elevator, and nearly smack the security guard on the other side with how hard you swing open the front door. 
It's pouring outside, which, of course it is. You take off your jacket and cover your cupcake box with it, because you're not going to let the universe ruin the one good thing you've got going for you this week, as you run towards the station.
The moment you step into the damp and sticky station any remaining sense of joy in you evaporates. There's a hoard of tourists swarming the subway paying no attention to their surroundings. Tourists wearing their caps and backpacks and wheelies knocking over a 'Caution Wet Floor ' sign as they gather in a throng in front of the subway map, blocking the way as you hear the train approach.
It's not that big of a deal. A train comes every two to five minutes, and if you miss this one, you'll just get on the next one. It's not the end of the world. Logically, you know that. Emotionally and spiritually however, the world around you has just taken a little bit too much from you for you to concede to this minor little loss.
You are going to make this goddamned train.
Taking a determined step forward, you shoulder and push your way through the throng of people to fight your way to the front of the track.
You push a little too hard. Your feet skid across the slippery tiles, leg buckling from your own weight and you lose control, tumbling forward.
In your peripheral view there's a blinding light approaching. There's wind beating the sides of your face, and you can hear the screeching metal of the train right next to you. Your foot drops into empty space and you are falling into the tracks. 
Oh god why...
Why?
You just want to live.
The cupcake box flies out of your grip, splattered somewhere across the front pane of the train. There's a hard tug on your shirt as an invisible force you cannot see yanks you back, hard.
Your head whips back and for a fraction of a second, there are crimson eyes staring back down at you, you blink and then it's gone.
You land on your ass with a bruising force to your tailbone with a bone-breaking thud. The subway whizzes by with a demonic roar past you, inches from where you're sprawled on your ass on the dirty tiles of the subway station.
In front of your feet, there's a long streak of white frosting trailing down from your feet to the tracks of what looks like a crime scene.
Maybe it's the stress. Maybe you've just had a bad night of sleep (after many successive bad nights with little to no sleep). But something in you breaks at the sight of the frosting smeared across the dirty subway tiles.
Your eyes sting with exhaustion. Chest drawing in tight with a crumbling ache that makes you want to curl up on the cold tiles. You're just so tired.
There are people around you staring at you. No one in their right mind who lives in New York would sit on the floor of the subway.
But your legs are heavy and numb. You can’t move from the spot. Everything tastes like bile. You try to swallow and force it back down but it's no use, your throat has swollen shut. Your cheeks run wet and you press your palms to your eyes to make it stop but that only seems to make it worse. Snot runs down your nose and drips down your wrist. You're crying and you don't know how to stop.
Is this the rest of your life?
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In the morning, you wake in your bed with a sore ache that gnaws at your bones. Swollen eyes and a soreness that scratches the lining of your throat.
Your back hurts, and as you try to turn to your side to get out of bed a sharp pain surges up along your entire spine.
Fuck.
It's too bright. The sunlight is offensive. It stings your eyes and makes you sick to your stomach. You only have vague memories of how you made it back home. Feet shuffling through the subway in a daze like the walking dead.
God is that what you are? A dead man woman walking?
You crane your head and catch a glimpse of your clock on the bedside table. 9.13 You're late for work. But that's mind as well, you don't have it in you to make it in.
What's the point anyhow? You hate that place.
Besides, if the subway on the way over doesn't finish off the job this time around, then eventually a taxi will. Failing that the universe is probably going to send over a ninja assassin rat from the subway to come after your life.
There's a soft breeze coming in from the open window that grazes the back of your neck and you turn your head towards it. All you can see from your window is the brick wall of the neighboring building. Even though your apartment is on the sixth floor, you can't see a speck of the New York skyline.
Still the breeze is nice, though you don't remember opening the window last night. You never usually do. It is silly and paranoid. No human robber could possibly climb up your six storey building just to climb into your window and rob you. If they could, they’d find that there isn’t much to rob in your apartment, the most valuable thing you own is a complete Le Creuset Cookware set. 
Your eyes glaze over your work tote bag on the floor next to the window, drifting upwards and spot the pink box sat on the window sill and you stop. 
You didn’t put that there. 
You sit upright in your bed, setting your feet to the floor and force yourself to leave your bed as you pad over to the open window.
It's a fancy looking thing. Baby pink, and chiffon ribbon on its side. Wrapping your pinkie around it, you tug it loose. You perch your thumb against the corner of the lid when you stop.
It's not another one of the universe's assassination attempts is it? You're not going to open it to find a bomb ticking down are you?
You hesitate for another moment, taking a deep calming breath before you gather the courage to finally lift the lid. Inside, there is a gorgeous display of cupcakes adorned with white and pink frosting, topped with strawberries, chocolate shavings and on two of them there's mini macarons.
Way fancier than the day old Costco cupcakes you'd lost yesterday.
Picking up one, you take a bite. The frosting is light and zesty. The refreshing lemon melts on the tip of your tongue as the buttery cream floods your mouth with the rich flavor. It's the best thing you've ever tasted.
Lifting the box, you check the sides of it to see if there's any note left behind, but there's none.
Gladis Bakery. It's from a bakery you've never heard of before. When you google the name the place is outside of New Jersey, 58 minutes away and you would need to take a subway then switch to a tram.
There's no note attached, but you don't need one. The list of candidates who would be physically able to climb up six floors up the bricks of your apartment building to leave cupcakes on your window isn’t a long one. 
Something warm blooms in your chest at the thought, and your fingers linger on the top of the box, savoring the taste of lemon and sugar still lingering on your tongue.
You put your head out the window, not sure what you're expecting to find but find yourself disappointed all the same when there's nothing there. No people in the quiet street below, and nothing unusual above.
"Thank you for uhm... saving me,” you say into the silence with nothing but the traffic noise below to answer you. 
 “And the cupcakes," you add. 
There's no reply. 
~ To be continued.
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luna0713hunter · 7 months
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Hey love, thank you for the story with insecure Usopp, it was just how I imagined :*
Could you know maybe write for Luffy x f!reader, where is so in love with him but insecure because she knows luffy can be rather childish and she thinks that he maybe does not know how a relationship works or what romantic love is but he notices and they talk and he assures her and like with heavy make out and suggestive at the end like „i‘ll show you how serious i mean this and how much i love you“
Thanks and love
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Author's note : thank you both for your kind words!!these two requests were similar so i decided to do them in one fic! Thanks for reading and your support!
Always serious about you
Monkey d.Luffy x reader
Summary : being in a relationship with Luffy was great! It was refreshing,fun and always so thrilling. But... sometimes you cant help but to wonder if Luffy is actually serious about you or is it all just a game to him...
Warnings : hurt/comfort,talk about insecurities,happy ending, relationship doubts
*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘
Laughter fills the kitchen of Going Merry as Usopp tries to fit another cupcake in his mouth.
You watch as Sanji shakes his head disapprovingly,Nami sharing a disgusted look with Zoro who's smirking slightly. And Luffy-
Monkey d. Luffy. The boy you grew up with and loved since the very beginning. The boy who dreamed so big even when he was small;the boy who became your captain.
And now,the boy who became your boyfriend after a tiny peck and shy confession on your part. But as you watch him stuff a donut in his mouth; seemingly competing with Usopp,you cant help but to wonder if you've made the wrong decision.
What if Luffy didnt even know how relationships work? What if he thought your confession was referring to being his best friend or something along those lines?
The thought has you stomach twisting and you gently push your plate away. Sanji,of course notices and shifts his attention to you.
"is the food not to your liking?"
You shake your head with a smile and rise from your sit .
"it was lovely as always Sanji. But I'm afraid I'm not hungry anymore."
"then I will wrap this for when you're hungry."
You give him a grateful smile and nod your head.
"thank you,Sanji."
And without looking at anyone else,you silently leave the kitchen.
As you step on the deck,the cool wind hits your face and makes you take a deep breath;it feels refreshing to get some air. The weather is nice,and the sky is clear. You lean against the railing and rest your chin on top of your folded arms and sigh;the stars are twinkling above and although beautiful,your heart clenches painfully. Your thoughts are dark just like the night sky and you feel tears burning your eyes and you push your face in your sleeves.
You hate this feeling. You hate having to doubt your relationship with Luffy. You hate hate hate, having to think about all these problems alone without any reassurance and a shoulder to cry on.
You hate doubting Luffy,your Captain,and the boy you loved since your childhood days.
The sound of the wind and ocean drowns your first sobs as your tears soak your sleeves,and you crumble on the floor with you head between your knees. You needed comfort,you needed Luffy.
You're so lost in your own thoughts that you dont hear the door to the deck opening,nor you hear the footsteps coming closer to you. You're so confused and lost that when a gentle hand lands on your shoulder,you jerk your head up so fast that you cringe at the whiplash you gave yourself.
You come face to face with Luffy,and your eyes widen immediately.
"L-Luffy-?"
"y/n?why are you crying?!" His hands are frantic as he starts looking for any injuries and when he finds none,he takes your face in his hands, "what's wrong?you suddenly left the dinner now you're crying!tell me what's wrong!"
When you look at his brown eyes,and see so much concern in them,you finally break.
Your sobs are loud and painful as your nails push in your skin and you bite your lip hard to keep yourself from letting out a pitiful whimper. Luffy's eyes immediately draw to your lips that are almost bleeding from how hard you're biting them,and with a sad noise he jumps closer to press his lips to yours.
The action has your eyes widening,and you look at how he's squeezing his own shut.
When he pulls away,his thumb brushes against your bruised lips done by yourself,and frowns.
"don't hurt yourself like that. If something's wrong,tell me and I'll fix it. I promise."
"Luffy," your throat dries and your tongue darts out to wet your lips;still slightly dazed from the kiss, "do you even...want to be in a relationship with me?"
Your question has Luffy tilting his head, genuinely confused by it.
"what do you mean?"
"do you," you huff and rub harshly at your eyes. But before you can do any more harm,He wipes your tears with his own fingers softly, "do you even know how relationships work?like... romantically?" You lower your eyes and bite your lips again, "maybe...you misunderstood my confession?"
Luffy stares at you without saying a word,and when you grow uncomfortable and start fidgeting,he suddenly lets out a loud laughter. You pout and smack him on the head.
"why are you laughing?!"
"how could i possibly misunderstand your confession when i know i love you so much?"
His words silence you and your lips part slightly. Luffy smiles and combs his fingers through yout hair, "i might be childish and immature,but i promise you that I'm always serious about my feelings for you."
He leans forward and presses his forehead to yours,and when he rubs his nose against your own,you giggle and look at him from underneath your lashes.
"you mean it?"
"with my life... I'm sorry i made you think otherwise." His fingers lock with yours and he kisses your cheek sweetly, "let me show you how serious i am about our love?"
You kiss his nose and nod.
After that night,you know to never doubt Luffy's feelings for you ever again.
*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘
P.S : i didnt like how this turned out :( hope you guys forgive me
328 notes · View notes
beelmons · 1 year
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devil's mark cw: slightly nsfw
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The heavy pants and and smooching noises where the only things that could be heard in the dark, tiny, closet at Rossi's house. Not that you minded though, the wet noises of your lips against Reid's was probably your favorite sound in the whole world. It killed you to be the only one who knew what was happening between him and you, if the decision had been yours, even the devil himself would know of your love.
But, in the end, the always worrisome Dr. Reid was not ready for a public commitment, or rather, he feared the teasing and nudging of his coworkers. Things were good as they were, why would you bring people into it? At least that was what he told himself everytime he wanted to hold your hand in public, or kiss you after getting good news, or simply put an end to other agents' flirting, and each time he had to stop himself. It was better this way, he thought.
"Come on, we have to go back." he said even when his hands kept you still pressed against his body, chest to chest, mind you.
"It's still not enough for me." you muttered, your lips attaching to a new area of his neck.
He noticed you didn't add as much tongue as you usually would, or that your lips seemed to linger a little longer than common, and specially that between kisses you pulled apart to be out of his sight, but he didn't make anything out of it, after all, your lips being on whatever part of his body had become his favorite hobby.
"They're gonna find out." he complained.
"They will." you breathed, and you tilted your head upwards to lay a deep but quick kiss to his lips "Eventually."
You hands sneaked in between your bodies to toy with the buttons of his shirt, spreading the collar apart to expose the center area of his chest. Your lips attached to the collarbone section. Pause. Then the pec section, and the mewl he let out was like honey dripping from his mouth.
"Okay." you finally pulled apart "I'm satisfied, for now" you made sure to emphasize your last words.
You took a second to fix his shirt back up, trying to leave no apparent trace that it had been undone in the first place. He stole one last kiss, he himself not being entirely satiated.
"I'll go out first, I've been gone the longest." he proposed and you gave him a hum in agreement.
He subtly left the closet, head turning frentically in search for anyone that could be inside the house before heading back to the yard area. His brows furrowed in confusion, though, when everyone looked at him with startled eyes.
"Reid..." Emily tried to warn him.
"So, where were you, pretty boy?" Derek interrupted, not wanting to skip the opportunity to do some brother-like teasing.
"Just needed to use the bathroom." he explained, doubt still written on his face.
"That's one hell of a service in that bathroom." Penelope blurted out without much thought.
"I do not remember hiring anyone to do that" Rossi added.
"What do you mean?" a very confused Spencer said, annoyance slightly appearing on his tone.
Hotch was the only member kind enough to open his front camera and offer the phone to Reid so he could observe himself. Bright, burgundy lip marks decorated his face, from his cheek to a trail that clearly followed down to at least the top area of his chest. The color that tinted his face didn't fall behind, the stains basically merging with his newfound skin tone. Seconds later, your figure appeared from between the house doors, with a freshly applied lipstick adorning your face.
"Let me guess, burgundy?" Derek pressed the issue, making an observation on your lip shade, and you simply shrugged innocently.
The speed which with Spencer snapped his neck to you could have given him whiplash, but the fact that every action you had taken back in that closet made the outmost sense now had him so bewildered he couldn't have cared.
"We've known for a while, Spence." JJ reasured him.
"For real, kid, is not a big deal." Derek told him when he noticed the embarrassment in his face.
Your hand darted out to grab his, a bright, relentless smile drawing on your lips. He couldn't help but to break into a laugh that everyone joined him in, boy, he would have done that differently, but he felt so free, so finally free.
"Penelope." he turned to Garcia once his breathing calmed down.
"Yes, lollipop." the rest of the girls giggled at her new nickname, and Reid rolled his eyes playfully.
"Please tell me you carry wet wipes."
829 notes · View notes
lostinlewis · 1 year
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How Do I Make You Love Me?
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Rating: M
Words: 9432
“She’s with me.” 
A simple sentence, one with very few words, but so powerful it was hearing it said in that familiar soft spoken voice, it almost gave you whiplash with how quickly your head turned to look at him. Stood just behind you and to the side a little, his hair dressed in fresh braids, his black outfit quite understated by his own standards but fuck did he look good. 
“Sorry?” 
“I said, she’s with me.” 
With the second turn of the phrase, his hand slid along your waist and held it just tight enough that you could feel it in all its wonderfully large glory. Every hair on your body stood on edge, goosebumps decorated your skin, you wondered if he could feel how nervous you had become all of a sudden, you wondered if he could tell how paralysed you were under his touch. 
The man he was addressing in such a curt manner quickly took his exit and you were left with him, alone, well as alone as you could be in a room full of your colleagues and sponsors. 
“Why did you do that?” You asked him in confusion.
“You looked like you needed some help.” 
It became very apparent very quickly that his hand hadn’t lifted from where it held you, if anything it had only tightened its grip on your bare skin, the soft strokes of his thumb zoned your thoughts into nothing but the sensation. In a scenario for which you would normally be filled with confidence, you had never been one to be claimed by a man quietly, suddenly you found yourself without any, unable to say or do anything other than just exist as the person who Lewis Hamilton had his arm wrapped around in such a way that made you feel like a possession; his possession. 
“If I needed your help, I would have asked for it.” 
That sentence was all it took to lift the spell and his hand from you. 
“A thank you would have done just fine, but I suppose I should know better than to expect that from you.” 
And with that, he disappeared back into the crowd in which he had emerged from, leaving you standing at the bar, drink in hand, shaking with what could only be described as a mixture of annoyance, with the strongest burn of desire; the latter of which, you were an expert on ignoring now, you had been doing it for some years now. 
‘Who does he think he is? Swooping in to stop a man from speaking to me? Calling me rude? So fucking arrogant, so very Lewis.’ 
Your blood was boiling for the remainder of the hour you spent at the function, unable to make your excuses to leave any sooner. The moment you saw the perfect window you slipped out, unnoticed, and called yourself a cab. 
The Uber app read 35 minutes, you audibly cursed once more, your night was getting worse by the minute. All you wanted to do was take off the two piece that clung to your body suffocatingly tight, throw off the heels that cut into your feet like blades of glass, and jump into your bed to sleep it off but now you would have to wait in the cold, just to add to what was turning out to be an awful night. 
Your mind was still swirling with thoughts of Lewis as you stood shivering, waiting for your cab to arrive. If anyone asked you, your thoughts were solely about how annoying he was, literally the bane of your existence at Mercedes, but you knew they were anything but. Sure, he was annoying, but more so because you had wanted nothing more than for Lewis to like you for two years now and nothing you did seemed to work. 
Everyone had stories about how kind he was to them, how much interest he took in not only their lives, but the lives of their family members and friends, everyone but you. He was just fine in the beginning, friendly, maybe even a little flirtatious but that quickly changed. 
You hadn’t even made it two months into your new role on the strategy team, you had barely even had time to make an impact, when he became cold, distant, everything he wasn’t to the rest of your colleagues. Your relationship had only deteriorated from there, whilst you watched your colleagues be showered with kindness, with invitations to his parties, with little messages of praise on social media, you were left with the bare minimum of interaction, just when absolutely necessary and never too much. 
That’s why tonight’s interaction threw you off so much, it was unnecessary sure, but it was also completely out of left field, he had never chosen to speak to you outside of when he absolutely had to, let alone purposely coming to what he assumed was your rescue at a work function. It was unnecessary but that wasn’t what bothered you, what bothered you was how unexpected it was. 
Whilst your mind ran with thoughts of how good he looked, of how delicious he smelt, with how surprisingly soft his hand felt on your skin, all thoughts were clouded with a big fat ‘why’.
Why had he done that? Why now? Why? 
“You're shivering, here…take my coat.” 
You hadn’t heard him approach you, so lost in your confusion laced thoughts, it wasn’t until he was right beside you, offering you his ridiculously expensive coat, that you were faced with the reality of being alone with him once more, and really alone with him this time, there was not another soul in sight.
“I’m fine…thank you.” The smile you gave him was anything but sincere, and he could tell. 
“You don’t look fine.” He placed a hand on your arm as if to test your temperature and immediately the coldest shiver ran through your body. “If you’re not going to take it, at least take a walk with me.” 
Lewis didn’t wait for you to answer him, it wasn’t really a question, he began to walk off down the gravel path that led to darkness, assuming you were following behind. 
Your heels crushing against the stones on which you walked was the only sound that broke the silence as you followed closely behind Lewis, he seemed to be walking with purpose, leading you somewhere predetermined until he stopped abruptly.
The darkness made it difficult to see but eventually your eyes adjusted to where you were, in amongst a collection of trees, standing just in front of a stone bridge that led from the grand building, in which the function was hosted, to further down into the vast grounds. 
“This is much better.” Lewis mused as he leant back against the bridge, one leg raised up to support himself, as he looked at you.
“I mean, I don’t feel any warmer…”
Lewis smirked and shook his head at your response, looking down at the floor as if he was very carefully deciding what to say next. 
“Do you always have to be so difficult?” 
There it was, the sentence to make you drop the arms you had tightly folded against your chest, as you threw them to your sides in anger. 
“Are you kidding me? Me? Difficult? You’re the most difficult person here, Lewis!” You growled.
His face was graced with the kind of smile that made you want to just scream at him; so smug. He clearly wanted to get a rise out of you and it was working.
“I think you’d struggle to find someone who agreed with you here, babe.” 
“That’s because I’m the only person you’re like this with! And don’t call me babe.”
“Come here.” 
“What?” 
“I said, come here.” 
“You don’t get to ignore what I just said and order me around, Lewis! We’re not at work now.” 
“God, will you just do this one thing please?” 
You moved a little closer to him, but nowhere near where he was directing you. 
“You’re so fucking stubborn.” He laughed, pulling you to him so you were inches from his face now, your legs placed either side of his raised knee, it was practically impossible for you to be closer right now than you were, without touching him. “If you won’t take my coat, hopefully my body heat will keep you warm.”
“Why do you feel like you need to save me tonight? From that guy? And now from the cold? I’m a grown woman, I can look after myself.” 
“Can you just drop the stubbornness for five minutes, please?” 
You wondered if he felt the way your thighs tensed with anticipation as his leg brushed up towards your middle whilst he spoke. You wondered if his movement was intentional, done to throw you off of your stride and make you think of nothing but riding the thigh of the man that detested you; it had worked. 
“Tell me, why do you think I’m difficult? That I treat you differently from the rest of the team?” 
“I don’t know, Lewis. You didn’t at first, but I must have done something wrong, said something wrong, and from then on you’ve made it clear you can’t stand me.” 
“That’s not true.”
“What isn’t?”
“All of it. You haven’t said or done anything to make me dislike you, not at all.” 
“Then tell me, what is it? How can I get you to like me?” 
Lewis' brow furrowed as he thought about what you said, slowly his head began to shake as if he was disagreeing with something, as if he was disagreeing with you. 
With one of his beautifully adorned fingers, he reached up to stroke your cheek ever so tenderly, you were frozen on the spot, paralysed again under his touch. 
He had closed the minimal space between you without you even noticing, his warm breath tickling your lips as his forehead placed against yours.
“I already do.” 
Lewis whispered a sentence that would play on your mind every single minute of every day after, before he did the only thing that was left to do, he kissed you. 
His lips soft in a way that was dissimilar to any man you had kissed before him, the tongue that brushed against your lips, begging for entry, felt like it belonged there, like it had been there many times before. 
You didn’t reciprocate, your mind wouldn’t function enough to give you that option, instead you let him kiss you, you let him smother you in everything that was Lewis; you hoped he would drown you in it. 
Your phone vibrating in your hand felt particularly violent, an unwanted distraction to a moment you could have only dreamt of half an hour ago. As if nothing had happened at all, Lewis pulled away from you, the separation of your lips leaving a sting of anxiety on yours as if they needed to be paired with his permanently. 
“I…I've got to go.” 
You didn’t wait for him to say anything, you didn’t look back to see if he was trailing behind you, you walked faster than what should have even been possible in the heels that punished you. Away from him, away from the kiss that left you with a thousand thoughts, and towards your escape; something that you needed now more than ever.  
Walking away from Lewis that night didn’t stop him being the only thing you could think about from the moment you left him standing against that bridge. Nothing distracted you, nothing took your mind off of the moment, off of the kiss, and certainly nothing stopped you replaying his words; ‘I already do’ rang through your mind so much, you were certain you could imitate his tone of voice to perfection within a few days. 
As you pulled into the car park at Brackley, you purposefully sought out his designated parking spot to see if he was there yet, he wasn’t. It had been two months since you had seen him, the off season had fallen just after the Mercedes function, which meant you had had two months to stew on what had happened, two months to create scenarios for why Lewis had not contacted you, two months to ultimately circle back to what you thought before the kiss; he hated you. 
A part of you hoped that he would just appear in front of you and force you to be comfortable with his presence, but as the morning drew on, his absence from the factory day beat down on you like the heaviest weight in the world. 
Where was he? Why was he the only employee not there? 
Your role within the strategy team at Mercedes was an important one, you were one of the most important cogs to keep the wheels spinning, quite literally, so when you sat in with the rest of your team and barely engaged at all, it was picked up on almost immediately. 
You made your excuses to your senior as he questioned you about your silence, stating you weren’t feeling too well, and that was true, you weren't. The sickness you had was one that only people reckless with their own feelings caught, the problem was, Lewis was the only one who held the cure and he was nowhere to be found.  
Day two of the team being back at the factory started much like the previous day, except this time you knew where Lewis was, Instagram had told you. You sat at one of the many cafeteria tables, away from everyone else, tapping right and then left again, replaying his story over and over. Lewis was in New York, first he had a TV show appearance to promote the upcoming season, and then he was at lunch with some of his famous friends. 
In between those images were a few scattered scenic pictures, one of a bridge and another from the window of what you assumed was his apartment. The skyline depicted was beautiful, a view that you knew would have cost him millions, but all you could think about was having your hands pressed up against the huge window that framed the view, whilst Lewis took you from behind; you wanted to be filled with him as you took in the beautifulNew York skyline.
The fantasy was swiftly wiped away and replaced with a sharp wave of jealousy as you viewed the most recent story he had posted. It was a normal selfie in the mirrored wall of his elevator, the kind he had taken many times before, including once already that day. What caught your eye this time though, was a reflection that you hadn’t noticed in the morning selfie, the reflection of strands of hair that you didn’t recognise as anyone of his entourage, strands of hair that closely resembled that of one of the famous models he had been at lunch with that day. It was just them, alone, in his elevator; a moment so special to him, he had to capture it in the form of a photo.
It was then that you realised the moment you both had shared had meant nothing at all to him, whilst it was all you could think about, you realised you were just another woman who had left herself open to being conquered, and he had tried. You thanked your lucky stars that your Uber had arrived when it did, you thanked all of the Gods for having left that party unconquered and untainted by a man who had been through more women than he had hot dinners. Well, unconquered for the most part. 
As you sat in your strategy meeting on the third day, you had decided that really you should be grateful to him for being so sloppy with his posting. If you hadn’t seen the reflection in the mirror of yesterdays model, you probably would have spent right up until the next season started, obsessing over a stupid little kiss, but thankfully he had freed you of that burden, and now you were more focused than ever at making sure you gave Lewis a strategy he couldn’t help but be grateful to you for. 
It was late in the evening when you arrived in Barcelona, you had left before the rest of the team to head over there so you could settle into your room and hopefully prepare yourself for facing Lewis for the first time in months, the next day. You hauled your suitcase on wheels behind you as you made your way through the narrow hotel hallway. If you had been looking in front of you, you would have probably scurried into the first hiding spot you found but you were not, and so you walked straight into what might be the most awkward interaction in your life to date. 
“You’re here early.” 
Your face was already a scowl, annoyed at how long the hallway was to get to your room, but when you looked up at where the voice came from, the scowl deepened; Lewis. You had known you had to face him at some point within the next twenty four hours, you just hadn’t anticipated it being so soon, and you certainly were not prepared for facing him with company. 
“I…I thought I'd get some rest before heading to the track tomorrow.” 
You tried to not look at her, your anxious mind ran with the idea that if you didn’t acknowledge her, she didn’t exist. That worked for all but thirty seconds, as if she sensed the tension that hung in the air between you all, she staked her claim on an impeccably dressed Lewis with an arm wrapped around his waist, sliding in as closely as possible to him, so you were forced to notice her. 
“Good idea, hope you have prepared some great strats for me to test out tomorrow.” 
Lewis’ smile was one of discomfort, you could see that the interaction was nothing but awkward for him too, both of you desperate to get out of the situation as quickly as possible, but both of you far too polite to do anything about it, well he was anyway. 
“I always do…it’s a shame that you don’t always know how to execute them.” 
Your comment was supposed to be a joke, but as the last syllable left your tongue, you heard how harsh it sounded. As if you hadn’t put your foot in it enough already, you decided to really round off the bitchiness with a line that you regretted the moment you said it. 
“Oh and try not to stay up too late with your new little friend, being a seven time world champion doesn’t excuse tiredness just because you couldn’t possibly spend one night alone.” 
You had already begun walking away from them both as you finished the sentence, something which you were thankful for; you certainly did not want to see the look on Lewis’ face as your unnecessarily harsh sentence sunk in. 
The first day at the track in Barcelona was always going to be uncomfortable for you, having to work around Lewis, with Lewis, like nothing had happened that night a few months ago, but the minute long conversation you had had with him last night as you walked into the hotel had made it so very much worse. 
He was dressed in beige cargo pants with the White Mercedes T Shirt on top, the bottom of one of the pant legs hung looser than the other, you knew that because as you all stood around the garage, Lewis right in front of you, it was all you focused on as you tried your hardest to not have an anxiety attack.
You always hated being the centre of attention, presenting your ideas in front of the whole team was your least favourite part of your job, but as you stood centre stage in the garage, you had never wanted the ground to open up and swallow you whole more than you did right that second. 
You could feel his attention more than anyone else’s, it might as well have been just the two of you in the room. You did your best to not look in his direction, your eyes scanned those of your colleagues so quickly, no one would notice that you hadn’t addressed any of your points to the number one driver, but instead to just about everyone else that bore little relevance. 
It was when you arrived at the instructions that were solely for his use that you had no choice anymore, and your eyes met his. Lewis seemed like he was listening, for the most part anyway, but as you rounded off your observations from last season, comments that could quite easily come off as criticism, you saw his eyebrow raise as he repositioned his stance, preparing to speak.
“I have noted all your points, but I have something to add…” You held your breath as you waited to hear exactly what he would say. “Last year we started strong, I was confident and that allowed me to get more out of the car than I should have. The strat calls became questionable somewhere in the middle of the season, some of the decisions you guys made were just not great, and I’ll be honest, I stopped trusting your calls.” 
Everyone’s heads turned to face you, waiting to see your reaction or hear your response as you fired back at him. Lewis stared at you too, a look in his eyes that dared you to carry on, dared you to fire back at him with an equally below the belt comment, but instead you stayed silent, flushed with embarrassment and annoyed at the audacity he had to call you out in front of the team. Lewis wasn’t finished, however.
“As long as we can rebuild that trust, then we should have no issues this season.” If you weren't mistaken, you could see amusement in his eyes. “And just as long as you guys remember to pit me on time too.”
The last comment was without a doubt aimed at you. You had made the call in Jeddah that meant he had missed a vital pit stop window, your hesitation cost him a podium, and Lewis had held it against you ever since, clearly. 
The rest of the meeting went by in a blur, both of you were quieter than usual, both of you clearly had other things on your mind and that was noted by Toto, so much so that he held you both behind after the meeting as if you were naughty children misbehaving in class. 
“So who wants to go first?” 
The deep German accent sounded around the small office of his, where you both were summoned to answer for your crimes. You sat obediently in the chair opposite his desk, Lewis preferred to lean back against the windowsill. 
“What do you mean?” You stuttered, feeling the pressure of having both mens eyes on you.
“Is there a problem between you both? I need to know now. Whatever personal issues you may have, I do not want them affecting the team performance and after that meeting today, clearly something has happened between you.” 
You wanted to scream out that what had happened was that Lewis had kissed you two months ago and never contacted you again, you wanted to pour out all of the jealousy that had eaten you up for the past few days but instead you said nothing, leaving it for Lewis to break the ice instead. 
“There’s no problem, apart from the bad strats last season.”
Toto shot Lewis a look that told him that he was less than impressed with his words, but it was too late, you had taken one too many criticisms from him that day, you could hold back no more. 
“I have no issue at all, Toto, however he has always hated me and now I guess he can’t hide it anymore. Now if you don’t mind, I have to go and prepare tomorrow's runs, hopefully they will be better suited to whatever Sir wants.” 
The tone when using his official title was very clearly sarcastic and the dramatic manner in which you exited the room, left both of the men stunned to silence. You didn’t care that it was unprofessional of you, and you certainly didn’t care how it affected Lewis, enough was enough, you were tired of being treated differently to the rest of the team, especially when you had done nothing at all to deserve it. 
Music played through the portable speakers you had brought with you to the hotel, the soft sounds of The Weeknd had you in a zen like state as you laid back on your bed, still wrapped in your post shower towel. 
The lyrics ran through you like sweet irony, every word started to resonate as you took in what was being sung. 
It's quite unusual/Seeking approval/Begging for it desperately (desperately)/I said
You typed the letter ‘L’ into the Instagram search bar, that was all you had needed to type, he was always your first suggestion as you had searched for him so many times. No new stories, he was unusually quiet today. You found yourself scrolling through the endless older posts of his, studying each picture of him as if you would be tested on how many freckles covered his nose. 
The feeling that you felt building within you was not unfamiliar, you had felt it once before. That night in question, as you hovered above the knee of the man who was quite literally the bane of your existence, closer to him than you ever imagined you would be, you felt just the same; a burning desire at your core, a feeling of yearning, a sensation of emptiness that only he could taper. 
How do I make you love me?/How do I make you/fall for me?/How do I make you want me/And make it last eternally?
You hoped the feeling would pass, you needed to wipe your mind clear of his face but nothing was working, even when you placed your phone beside you, the music only reminded you of him more. Lewis’ face was all you could see when you closed your eyes, the tightness of his waist in his race suit made you think of nothing but holding it, and the reminder of his kiss left you hoping for a taste of him again someday. 
There was really only one way to dampen the incredible heat that soared through your middle, you had resigned yourself to that fact. One hand found your sweet spot, the other found Lewis’ Instagram again as you allowed your imagination to carry your pleasure, whilst your fingers did all of the work. 
You were so lost in the moment, your eyes focused on the beautiful man on your screen, your ears suffocated by the lyrics that resonated more and more as the tracks changed, your mind working overtime to imagine how heavy he would feel on top of you, how expertly he would know how to please you with his vast amounts of experience, but you fixated on how big you already knew he was. He was unashamed of his enviable size, his racing suits fit a little too snug around his crotch and that allowed you to form such a wonderful image of just how perfect he would feel inside of you. 
You wanted him, you needed him, you knew this feeling would not pass until you had him, but you also knew that you never would. Lewis disliked you, the kiss was an anomaly, you knew he was probably drunk on the celebrations of him, and the alcohol; you knew there was no way he would do it sober. 
All of your senses were in overdrive as you touched yourself to relieve some of the tension you had carried with you for months, if not years, now. You closed your eyes, having his image burnt into your memory meant you no longer needed to stare at your screen, instead you pictured him as if he was there. You thought of how his fingers, almost twice the thickness of yours, would feel as a replacement of yours. You wondered how his tongue would feel against your nub, your memory flooded you with exactly how his lips felt meshed with yours and all you could do was picture how quickly you would fall apart in his mouth.
The more graphic your thoughts became, the stronger the waves of pleasure that soared through your body rocked you. So deep in thought you were, so lost in the scene that played out in your head, you almost didn’t hear the gentle knock at your hotel room door; you certainly heard the call of your name though. Lewis. 
Moments away from an orgasm, you groaned out of frustration. Why was he here? Did he want to insult your work even more? You thought about how tired you were, how little politeness you would be able to muster with exhaustion. What you didn’t account for was your current state of dress, or lack of it, to be more precise. 
Lewis’ lips were parted as if he was about to say something as soon as you opened the door up to him, but as his eyes panned down your body, taking in every inch of you, he was lost for words; until you made him find them again. 
“Lewis, if you have come to tell me how bad I am at my job again, can you wait until tomorrow? I’m tired.” 
“About that…” He didn’t wait for his invitation inside, he made his way past you as if you were not even there. “I came to apologise actually, I was out of line.” 
“Yes, you were.” You closed the door behind you as you began your rant. “How dare you undermine me in front of the whole team? Did you want to embarrass me? I understand that you hate me Lewis, but at least keep it respectful.” 
Lewis placed his phone down on the side table, shaking his head whilst doing so.
“As respectful as you kept it last night? You have no business making digs at whatever I do outside of work. You made the rest of the night super uncomfortable, for the both of us.” 
The internal smirk of satisfaction hearing that you ruined his night with her had clearly filtered through to your face, Lewis saw it, and it made him even madder. 
“Why did you do that? Why did it bother you that I was with her? Are you jealous of her? Is that what it is?” 
“Stop being ridiculous, Lewis.” 
“Am I being ridiculous?” You didn’t answer him, instead you busied yourself by smoothing out the curtains as if their creases were the most important thing happening right now. “What happened that night…I’m sorry.” 
An apology for kissing you, you thought you might be able to handle it better if he just said the words ‘I hate you’ instead; you did not want to hear his regrets of having been close to you.
“It doesn’t matter.” 
“It does. I’m sorry for kissing you and then never contacting you afterwards, that was not intentional.” 
You laughed at his absurdity, of course it was intentional, no one goes two months without contacting someone unless they intended not to. 
“You laugh like you’re not the one that regretted it the second it happened…”
“I’m sorry?” 
The increase in pitch after every syllable of your words was apt to describe the annoyance you were feeling. 
“You’re the one who ran off that night, not me.” 
“My Uber arrived-”
“Oh come on, you couldn’t have called another fifteen minutes later? You left because you regretted it, admit it.”
You looked at him, he looked at you. You wondered if there were as many unsaid things hanging in the air between you both as you felt there was. The tension should have been one filled with anger but it wasn’t, the atmosphere felt alien to you, a feeling you were unable to label. 
“I didn’t regret it…All I ever wanted was for you to like me, Lewis. I am sorry I have made you hate me, I’m sorry I have made it worse too.” 
Lewis reached out for you, wrapping his hand around your wrist before you quickly pulled it away. You were determined to not fall into the trap that was his touch once again, you had to be stronger this time, you had to put yourself first. 
“Why are you so obsessed with me hating you?” 
“So you admit it, you do?” 
“No. I do not hate you. I have never hated you.”
“Lewis, please…we don’t have to do this, all I ask is that you are cordial-”
“Stop. Let me finish, I need to say this.” 
This time when he reached out to hold your wrist, you didn’t pull away, instead you let him lead from your wrist, down to your hand, where he held you with the gentlest hold, the kind that comforted you but filled you with butterflies all the same. 
“I told you that night, when you were adamant once again that I disliked you, that you were wrong. You are wrong. I like you, I have always liked you, that’s the problem.” 
“What do you mean?” Your voice now was practically a whisper of nerves, you wanted to hear his explanation yet you weren't sure you were prepared for it. 
“I think it was about two months into you working with us that I realised.” Lewis led you over to the bed as he began his story, stopping you both to sit on the end. “I don’t even know how it happened, and especially not that fast, you know?”
“No, I don’t know. Spit it out, please.” 
“I realised that I liked you, like really liked you. The kind of like that meant as soon as I got to the track, or the factory, all I did was hunt you down. I paid no attention in meetings, unless you were leading them. I slacked in just about every single part of my job because all I could think about was you.”
“I don’t understand…”
“No, neither do I.” His thumb stroking circles over your hand tried to hold your attention to him. “I don’t understand how it happened, normally I am resistant when it comes to this stuff, but I guess you crept in.” 
“So why…why do you act like you can’t stand to be around me?”
“Because I can’t…but not in the way you think. I can’t stand being around you because it’s torture. I couldn’t trust myself around you, I didn’t know how much longer I could stop myself from making a move on you and the last thing I want is people to know I have slept with the lead strategist.” 
“Bold of you to assume that I would have slept with you.” 
Lewis laughed, you laughed too, all at once the tension in the air began to feel less like it was trying to suffocate you and more like a hug. 
“So that night, when you kissed me, what changed?” 
“I was suffering from the same thing you were last night, jealousy.” 
“I was not jealous.” 
The raised eyebrow, followed by an eyeroll told you how convincing your plea of innocence was. 
“Fine, maybe I was a little jealous.” 
“When I saw him approach you, when I saw the way you engaged in whatever conversation starter he laid on you, I saw red and I knew right then I had to stop him from having a chance with you.”
“A little selfish, don’t you think? Especially as you had no intentions of shooting your shot with me.”
“Yeah, I realised that when I saw you standing alone waiting for your cab. Besides, that outfit…fuck, it was hard to keep my hands off of you all night.”
“So you took me into the dark to kiss me and then what was the game plan?”
“There wasn’t one, but I know for sure I had no intention of stopping at any point…until you ran away and left me there, all worked up.”
Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment, not that he could tell. 
“If I hadn’t left, what would have happened?”
“Are you asking me if I would have fucked you up against that bridge?” You looked away, unable to hold eye contact as he spoke of things you had only dreamt of. “Because I would have, but I also would have regretted it the next day.”
“Ouch…”
“Not like that, look at me…” 
He didn’t wait a second for you to follow his commands, so impatient for your full attention, he placed his fingers on your cheek and turned you to face him. You both held your gaze there for the moment, silence polluting the distance between you instead of words, and all you could think about was the fact he had not let go of your cheek at all; it was almost as if the moment he touched you he was frozen too. 
“What I meant was, in the moment I would have loved nothing more than being inside of you, but I would have regretted it because you deserve to be treated with so much more care. You’re better than a quickie in the woods.” 
His thumb stroked your cheek now, in the same way it had your hand. 
“Sometimes a quickie in the woods is exactly what a girl needs…”
You both shared a knowing smile once more, you could physically and mentally feel the tension lift from your body; with a few short sentences, you were both bonding more than you had in two years. Who knew that all it took was you both talking about fucking each other?
“You have no idea how many times I have thought about all of the things I want to do with your body.” 
Your mind flashed to the scene on the very same bed you were sitting on, only minutes before he arrived, a hot flush of embarrassment washed over you as if his hand cupping your cheek allowed him to read your thoughts and he would be able to see exactly what you did to yourself, because of him. 
“May I?” 
You weren't sure what he was seeking permission for, was it a kiss or was it permission to fulfil all of the fantasies he had about you? It didn’t matter what it was, there was not a single part of you that would deny his request. Afterall, it was all you wanted too. 
“You may.” 
Lewis’ lips met yours with such care you were the one that had to guide the pace, you could feel his restraint as he tried to be anything but the man he was with all of the other women before you, you could feel the way in which he wanted to treat you differently; he wanted to show you that you were nothing like the others to him, not even a little bit.
You were careful to not break the kiss as you straddled his lap, forcing him back onto the mattress with all of your weight. It took him all of a few minutes to find himself succumbing to his desires for you. 
His hands ran all the way down your back, his fingers brushed over the back of your thighs until he reached the end of your towel and now all he could feel was your skin. He waited a moment to see if you would stop him, but when you didn’t, he knew he had permission to do so much more with you and he was not going to waste it.
Lewis danced his fingers up your thighs until he had both of your cheeks cupped in each hand, squeezing a little, before slapping each one to make you shriek. His lips parted into a smile, he clearly thrived on getting a reaction out of you, everything he did would be to test you, to see what you really liked; even if you didn’t know it yourself, yet.
“Lay down for me, please.” He whispered into your lips. 
It took all of a second to switch positions, as you manoeuvred to where he wanted you, your towel began to slip off so you quickly held it together with your hand. 
Lewis watched you for a moment, sat back at your knees, he observed you cover your modesty with a sudden shyness, the kind he had never seen in you before. 
“Are you not comfortable?” 
“Sorry, it’s not that…I guess, I’m a little shy.”
Lewis placed his hands either side of your head as he leant over you, placing no weight on you at all but the weight of his lips, he kissed you with such a drawn out, deep kiss, before he rested his face just inches from yours. 
“Let me help you feel comfortable with me, I will show you why there’s no reason for you to be shy.”
With such a stark contrast to the way they found your lips, his kisses trailed down your neck with enough pressure you were certain he would leave a mark or two. He was careful to not touch you with anything but his lips until there was not an inch of skin left exposed for him to devour. 
Lewis looked up at you from the position he had found himself in at your chest, slowly his fingers unravelled your clasp on your towel, moving the white cotton to the side as he replaced it with his lips. 
So much time and care was taken with your body, he felt your tension release in line with where his tongue trailed and he knew that this was exactly what you needed. 
There was no rush in him, you would almost be mistaken for thinking he was the nervous one. He took his time to make sure each of your nipples had as much devotion laid with first a flick of his tongue around them before his lips clasped the sensitive nubs, gently sucking until what had fast become his favourite moan, escaped your lips. 
His eyes were locked on to your face as the kisses dared lower and lower on your skin until the only place left to be graced with them, was the very same place that needed it most. 
There was no care at all with the ferocity that was his tongue rounding your clit before his lips wrapped around it too, you let out the loudest moan yet as you finally felt how perfectly he was built for pleasing you. He was so much better than you could have imagined. 
Lap after lap he watched you, every move he made was to feel the way your thighs brushed against his beard whilst your whole body shook, and your moan, music to his ears. He knew right then that he would make you feel this way forever if you let him. 
“Lewis…Lewis…I-“
Your weakened pleas were incoherent and told him nothing, but they didn’t need to, the way your body shook with every little flick of his tongue, told him everything and more. You were close now, so close that your ending was but a few laps from arriving. 
“Don’t hold back, beautiful. Let me taste it all.” 
Lewis spoke with a huskiness about his voice, you would soon realise that was the way he sounded when he was so ridiculously turned on he was ready to burst, but this was about you, how good he was making you feel, that was his priority right now, the grinding of his dick into the bed was something he had no control over, it was the only thing that would taper his overwhelming urge to be inside of you. 
He took hold of both of your hands, interlocking your fingers between his so he could feel you squeeze them as the inevitable pleasure washed over you. When it hit, when the knot in your stomach exploded, it took every sense of yours away, faded your ability to think, talk and even see, into nothingness, as everything about the next thirty seconds was focused on your pleasure alone. 
As you moaned out into the air, squeezing both his hands with yours and your thighs tightened around his face, Lewis couldn’t help but groan too, your pleasure was his, after all. He was so attentive that he never once stopped caressing your now overstimulated clit with his tongue until he was absolutely certain you were done; your little whimpers told him as much. 
“You have no idea how many nights I have got myself off thinking about how sweet you would taste.” He kissed your flustered cheek. “And Baby, you didn’t disappoint.”
You were still coming around from your orgasm as you felt him on top of you, this time his whole weight was on you. He was topless now, clothed in nothing but the shorts that clung loosely at his waist. He was so much heavier than you imagined, his height did his broadness no justice but that was an afterthought, all you could concentrate on this second, was the thing that was throbbing against your middle as he lay on top of you. 
“Lewis…please…”
Sentences were still something you were unable to form in your post orgasmic haze, the smile on his face told you how adorable he found it. Your desperate hands worked his shorts down his body until the sound of him smacking against your wet folds was all that could be heard. 
You gasped, he groaned, both of you in awe of each other before he had even put the tip in. His patience amazed you, he made sure to smother your face and your neck with kisses as he cradled you, holding his dick at your entrance whilst he did so. 
No movements you made, no rocking of your hips, no pressing down on his cheeks, made him do the one thing you needed; put himself inside of you. He waited so frustratingly long to make the final move, you found yourself losing any semblance of your own patience by the second. 
“Are you the shy one now?” You teased him. “It’s rude to keep a woman waiting, Lewis.” 
He let out a chuckle as he moved his hand in between both of your bodies so he could hold his dick at your entrance. You swallowed your gasp, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of his size shocking you before you had even really felt it, but you needn’t have, he could already tell. 
“So confident a moment ago, think it will be a little too much for you?” It was his turn to tease now. 
“I can handle it…” 
Your lips parted as he slowly stretched you, just enough so only the tip was inside of you; pressed against your sweet spot intentionally, your inability to speak told him all he needed to know. 
“Too much?”
You shook your head as your eyelashes fluttered with the struggle you had to keep them even slightly open whilst he slowly gave you more of his inches. He felt so very thick, he stretched you more than anyone ever had before and the second he bottomed out in you, you realised you had held your breath the whole time. 
Lewis was so very patient. You could feel the way his dick throbbed against your sensitive walls, so desperate he was to do everything he had thought about doing to you, but he kept perfectly still, brushing his lips over yours as he watched you adjust to his size. 
“That a little too big for you, Baby?” 
He was getting far too confident with it now, he could see exactly what he was doing to you without even trying, he could hear in your rapid breaths how this was so much more than you had ever taken before, and he could feel it in the warm wetness that had engulfed him, just how wild it was driving you. 
“Lewis…”
Your voice was nothing but a whimper now, a pathetic, lustful whimper; his name being the only word you could remember. If he had left you in this state by just being inside of you, you knew the moment he was let loose on your body, it would be like nothing you had ever experienced before. 
“Yes, Baby?” 
His kisses had moved down to your neck now, his determination to keep you in an overstimulated state was really something to behold. 
“Lewis…” 
“Tell me…” He moved up to meet your lips with a kiss that lingered for a moment. “Tell me what you need me to do to you.” 
You felt yourself clench around him as you heard his words. Lewis was willing to do anything you wanted right now, your pleasure was his priority and it was by far the hottest thing you had ever heard. 
“Everything…please…please…” 
He gave in before your pleas had even finished, hooking both of your legs over his forearms, he pushed them back towards your chest as he showed you exactly why he was so confident. 
The sex was passionate, raw, every bit about both of you connecting both physically and mentally as he drew out the strongest orgasms from your body without even trying. You had never orgasmed through penetration before Lewis, but he made it seem like something that came so easy to you with how often he could make you do it. 
The final scene played out with him moaning in such a deep guttural way, you fought back your own just so you could enjoy it. You watched him now, as much as your overstimulated mind let you anyway. You watched him, his muscles bulging as he strained to release every little bit he had inside of you, his skin damp with sweat all over, so much so it made him glow. 
Lewis fell to the bed next to you and pulled you into him immediately, you were so used to men needing their space in recovery mode it shocked you. Lewis didn’t need space, he wanted you as close as possible as you both came down from your incredible highs. 
At some point you must have fallen asleep because the next thing you knew, you were laying in bed alone and immediately your heart sank. Your thoughts ran crazy for a moment, panic of having now been conquered, Lewis was immediately bored; thankfully those thoughts did not have time to fester. 
“You look worried, what's wrong?” Lewis asked you as he emerged from the bathroom, rubbing his face with a towel. 
He was still naked, and even when soft you couldn’t help but note how big it still was. You felt your mouth begin to salivate as you stared at it. Lewis noticed where you held eye contact too and giggled. 
“You’re still hungry?” He chuckled as he made his way back over to your side of the bed. “Babe, it’s late, we both need to get some rest before tomorrow. I’ll be over for breakfast before we have to head to the track, I promise.” 
Lewis placed a kiss on your forehead, you realised what was happening at that moment and grabbed his wrist. 
“Please don’t leave.” 
“But you need to sleep, Baby.” 
Gone was the need to call you by your name, that had changed the moment he got close to you tonight, from here on out it would be pet names at all times when referring to you. 
“Please, Lewis.” 
“Are you sure you want me to stay?” 
“More than anything.”
Lewis climbed back under the duvet, his whole body curled up around you, almost immediately you felt him begin to harden again. You couldn’t help but roll your hips back into it, you were exhausted but it felt a shame for it to go to waste. 
“No, Baby. Not now, you need to rest.” His nose nuzzled into your neck with affection. “Maybe if you do as you are told, I might consider fucking you so hard you are walking funny for the rest of the day.”
“Lewis, that is so unfair. How am I going to sleep now? That’s all I am going to think about.” 
“Well, you know what to do if you want it…” 
You could sense his delight in your desperation for him but he was not going to let you get your own way, not when he knew what was better for you at that moment. Regardless of whether you behaved or not, there was no way he was letting you leave that bed without being filled with him at least one more time. 
“Tell me a story, Lewis.”
“What would you like to hear?”
“Tell me about your first love, what was she like?” 
“Beautiful…breathtakingly beautiful…” 
You closed your eyes as you let your body relax into the big protective arms that wrapped around you. You could feel yourself drifting off to sleep, soothed by the soft tones of Lewis’ voice as he recited lines of a woman who began to feel more and more familiar as he went on. 
“Not only beautiful, she is the smartest woman I have ever met. She is able to command a room with confidence, she is able to hold her own up against some of the strongest men I know.” 
You felt him peek at you to see if you were sleeping yet. 
“Carry on, I’m still listening…she sounds great by the way…” 
He chuckled once more before he placed a kiss on the back of your neck.
“She thinks I barely know her, she thinks I want her just to add her to my conquered women list, but what I do know would probably surprise her. I know that for breakfast she only ever eats seeded bread, toasted lightly but buttered to every single edge. I know that with that toast she always has a black coffee, she always refuses sugar when the barista offers it but she secretly adds some to it at the condiments counter. I know that she tells people that she isn’t bothered about being single, I know that she says she has no desire to be in a relationship but I also know that her favourite genre of music is love songs, that her favourite movies are romantic ones, she loves love, she’s just too scared to try it.” 
You were so close to sleep now, trying desperately to hang on to being awake as you never wanted his monologue about you to end. You were unable to respond with words, instead you encouraged him with a gentle squeeze of his hand as you held it tightly, wrapped at your chest. 
“I know that she has spent two years thinking that I hate her, when in reality it couldn’t be further from the truth, and I hate that I even made her think that. I know that I need to make up for that, I need to make her feel as loved as she deserves to feel. There’s a lot of things I know, a lot of things I need to say to her, but she’s sleeping now, her soft snores are somehow now my favourite sound. But when she wakes up, I will be right here, and I will be here for as long as she will have me.”
He placed a final kiss on the back of your neck, so careful he was to not wake you. 
“There’s a lot of things to tell you about the first woman I ever loved, but the most important is that I have been certain from the moment I met her that there will never be another woman for me. You are it baby, you are who I pictured when I was imagining my wife as a little boy, imagining the mother of my kids, and I will work hard every day to make sure you want to be that woman too.” 
Lewis was drifting off to sleep now, his words now more of a mumble, but still his mind ran with so many thoughts, two years worth, desperate to escape his lips. 
“And when you wake up tomorrow, having heard only half of this, I will tell you I love you…and hope it doesn’t scare you away.” 
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mama-qwerty · 3 months
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Thoughts on Prime S3 - Dread
So I binged Prime season 3 last night. Overall it was a fun ride--the animation was beautiful, the characters' expressions and movements were fantastic, and the voice acting was stellar.
But there were a few things I that poked me the wrong way.
Buckle up, folks. This is gonna get LONG.
Let's start with my beloved. Dread. Specifically, his 'redemption'.
We all knew it was coming. They weren't going to let a Knuckles be a manipulative, selfish, greedy, double-crossing asshole. This is a kids' show, after all, and all the characters have to do the right thing in the end. So his switch to help the heroes save the universe wasn't unexpected.
But the way it was handled gave me whiplash.
We have Dread being a magnificent bastard in season 2. Oh so ruthless and selfish and looking out for number one and eyes on nothing but his Beauty. So much fun to watch this guy be so un-Knuckles like and enjoy every second of it.
But then season 3 comes and he's just . . .
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This.
He planted himself by the door and just . . . sat there. One of the most fun and animated and enjoyable characters of the last season is now set decoration.
So. Okay. I'm gonna do what I love to do. Deep dive into his head.
He's moping. He's depressed. He's lost his Beauty, again, and has no idea where it is, or how to get it back. That was his entire focus. He had it, he had it in his grubby little mitts, but lost it.
The first time he failed to get it, he lost his ship, his crew, his courage, and his confidence. He threw himself into denial, becoming a Party Pirate who only cared to be jolly and jovial and distract himself with fun every day. Any mention of his past made him testy. He didn't want to think about it. Didn't want to be reminded of it. He avoided fighting his past crew when they attacked, because he didn't want to face his failures, face his past. So he didn't. He hid. He ran.
But then Sonic gave him an opportunity. A chance to succeed where he'd failed before. And that greedy light was in his eyes again. The tunnel vision, the single focus, the obsession came back full force. And this time he managed to claim what he'd been lusting after for who knows how long. He finally got his Beauty, and it reinforced those feelings of obsession. Of possessiveness.
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He manipulated his crew into thinking Sonic was the bad guy for wanting it, and turned his back on them the first second they no longer served him any purpose. His eyes were only for his Beauty.
Then the Chaos Council snagged it from him, and he latched onto their ship like a tick to get it back. He endangered himself, left his home, left behind people who were loyal to him (for whatever reason), all because he wanted the shiny rock back.
And then he lost it again when Nine and Sonic took all three shard pieces back to Ghost Hill. He fought with his urban counterpart, essentially cutting any possible ties of loyalty and help there, and was now stuck in a city he didn't know, with no allies, nowhere to go, and no Beauty.
So it tracks that he would be feeling pretty low. He failed to do the one thing, the only thing, he'd ever wanted to to in his life. He had it. And lost it. Three times.
He's not feeling bad because Nine has them and will use them to destroy everything. He's disappointed in himself for failing. He has no purpose now. Treasure was all that mattered to him--that specific treasure--and now that it's gone and outside of his reach, he feels he has nothing left to care about.
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(And as an aside, I love his pose here. Boy just looks so defeated.)
So, okay, I can get that he would be feeling all "Poor Dread, lost me Beauty again" right now. And I think him refusing to go after the rest of his crew when Nine threatened them was also on point. He's still got tunnel vision--"No treasure, what's the point?" It sticks with the Dread that was established in season 2. Nothing in it for him, no treasure, no valuable shiny rocks, he's not gonna waste his time or risk his skin for it.
He has shown exactly zero loyalty in the past, so this fits with his characterization.
Now here's where I would have done things differently. Because very shortly after this, he's right there with the others when they decide to make the raid on Nine's encampment. No hesitation, no grumbling about how he'd 'better be rewarded after all this' or whatever. It's like he's a completely different person. The Dread from season 2 would NOT have done this of his own free will.
Let's back up to before Sonic and the Roses left to save Batten, Sails, and Catfish. Black Rose stopped to ask Dread if he was coming, to which he responded with the aforementioned "No treasure, no point." Rose simply said something along the lines of a disgusted "Some captain" and walked out.
But this was the PERFECT opportunity for a seed of redemption to be planted. Instead of simply walking out, Rose could have turned to him and said something like:
"No point? Look around you! Everything's coming undone, and there'll be nothing left if we don't stick together and stop Nine!"
"Then it shouldn't matter if I go or not!" he replies, shooting her a snarl. "Me Beauty be gone. I be a failure. There ain't nothing left f'r me."
"Ya know, you had people who were loyal to you. People who would have fought by your side until the end. That should have been what mattered to you. But you chose a shiny rock over them instead." She tsk'ed. "Some captain."
To which he would have been all "Sod off and leave me in peace" as they left to rescue the rest of the Angel's Voyage crew.
But the seed would have been planted.
And there could have been a scene, a quick one, where, when Sonic's talking about giving himself up to Nine, Dread has a devious look. "If we go to the fox, he'll have me Beauty. I c'n sneak in and get it back while the others be busy." And then he'd chuckle to himself because he's oh so smart and clever, before standing and joining the others with a boisterous "Let's take the fight to him! We'll teach that no good landlubber t' mess with us!" or some such piratical speech.
So it would appear he's all gung ho about joining the fight, but he still has his selfish reasons that would have stuck with his season 2 characterization.
And then, during the looong fight, we could have had little glimpses of others coming to his aid. Ren specifically, and when his urban twin saves him, he'd look surprised, because they didn't exactly part on good terms.
"Ye . . . saved me?"
"Yeah, so?"
"I thought ye didn't like pirates. Me specifically."
Ren shrugs. "We're all in this together, right? You're here helpin' now, ain't ya? 'Sides, I hate the world endin' more than I hate you. C'mon. Less yakkin', more punchin'."
And that would make Dread think. Just for a moment. Another seed planted. Then he'd blink and head back into battle.
I would even keep the whole 'Jack appeals to Dread's greed' scenario. Because Dread still has that mindset. So he heads in to go for the Prism, sinking back into the Gollum-esque obsession again. But when he sees Black Rose in trouble, that's when those seeds really start to take root. What she said comes to mind again, and he remembers every time they'd helped him. Maybe different members of the crew had jumped in when he was overwhelmed in the fight. He sees other variants helping each other, or helping members of the different groups. How they're putting their lives on the line for people they don't even really know. Helping each other. Saving each other.
He thinks of Ren, who saved him regardless of their last meeting.
With one last look back toward the Prism, Dread jumps down to save Rose.
It could have been handled so easily, with just a few extra seconds of show. Cut out some of the extraneous fight scenes and add some more character interaction/growth. It would have made Dread's redemption seem more genuine, and less of a "Let's just throw away all the characterization he had last season to get to the end."
Love me some Dread. I just think he could have been handled a lot better.
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rhettabbotts · 5 months
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milkshake anon back to say wow wow wow your drabble made me more feral for pornstar!rhett.
i wanna suck on a jumbo popsicle on a hot summer day while he watches
the air in your apartment was sticky and warm. the a/c was out once again - no thanks to your landlord. it was the middle of summer in new york and you truly thought you were going to melt into a puddle on your scuffed wooden floors.
"you know i have air conditioning at my place, right?" rhett questioned as he stood with his hands braced against the kitchen counter. he was in a white wifebeater tank top and white boxer shorts, the tank clinging to his chest. his skin had a sheen of sweat glistening from the sweltering sun beating into the apartment windows.
"i know. but traffic is horrendous. and the train will take hours. hundreds of stinky, sweaty new yorkers. no, thank you." you stuck your head in the freezer for the fifth time in the past several minutes. upon opening your eyes, you saw something shoved in the back corner. you let out a squeal of glee when you realized what it was.
a popsicle. a delicious, chilling treat. your mouth started watering instantly and you couldn't get the packaging open fast enough. cherry flavored, your favorite. as the cool sweetness touched your tongue, you let out a salacious moan. rhett's head snapped towards you so fast, he nearly gave himself whiplash.
"fuck, that's so good," you whimpered as your tongue swirled around the popsicle.
“you like it that much?” rhett questioned as he leaned against the counter, arms crossing over his chest.
“tastes amazing,” you grinned around the cold treat. “want some?”
“don’t let me interrupt,” he smirked, nodding at you to continue.
you sucked and licked at the popsicle until the sticky red juice was melting down your hand, traveling down your wrist and making a mess. your eyes never left rhett’s as your tongue swirling around the ice, putting on quite the show for him.
“my turn,” rhett demanded as he took the remnants of the popsicle from your hand and threw it in the sink, pressing at your shoulders until you felt the laminate floor against your knees. “you little fucking tease.”
you couldn’t be more thankful for that popsicle in the back of your freezer.
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barcingmatter · 1 year
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The Beginning (Star Witch Au)
"-And thats why I can't become a witch."
The middle aged person across from Danny hummed quietly for a moment, sipping at their tea while he looked back down at the book in his lap, the title 'A Witchlets Guide To Apprenticeship' taunting him.
"And your parents won't let you apply for the public mentorship? There is one in Amity Park that's always accepting applicants," they set their cup down, looking through the tea leaves left in the bottom.
Danny set the book on the table to join the others he'd been picking through. The library's decent selection on becoming a witch only frustrated him.
How was he supposed to put any of the books to use in his situation?
He huffed, sinking into the plush chair. "No, they're only willing to consider it if I can manage to get a private mentorship. They're only doing it because they KNOW I don't know anyone who can do mentoring. They want me to give up and become a scientist like them," he droned.
The person across from him didn't look up from their tea leaves, like they were looking for something.
"I'm curious," they began, "why do you want to become a witch so bad?"
"Well- its kinda- I mean most people think it's kinda childish-"
"I assure you even if it's childish it won't mean any less."
Danny turned to them and they finally looked back, porcelain cup abandoned on the table. "I... I wanna be worthy of the stars."
They raised an eyebrow. "Worthy of the stars?"
The library was quiet for a moment, save for the subtle 'tick, tock' of a pocket watch hanging from the elders necklace.
"The stars guide people who are lost, and they tell stories and preserve history. They're always there, they help people, kinda... I wanna be like that. I wanna be like the stars, and I wanna know them," he explained.
The elder stood, leaving their cup in its place on the table and picking up one of the books Danny was looking through before their conversation began. "Not many witches do private mentorships outside of family or monetary gain. It would be easier for you to give up and listen to your parents wishes. You might not be good enough to make it to an academy anyways, much less gain an artifact."
Their pocketwatch ticked just a bit faster.
Danny glared at his pile of books, "it would, but that would be stupid. If I gave up on it now I'd probably hate myself for the rest of my life. And then I'd die and still hate myself for not trying." He picked up one of the books and cracked it open, ready to start looking for something, maybe a loophole that would work.
"Alright," they smirked, standing in front of the boy. "I'll mentor you."
The book tumbled to the floor as Danny looked up at the person quick enough to give himself whiplash, "huh?"
"You need a mentor, and I am certified to do so. I only have one condition," they grabbed their necklace, flicking open the pocketwatch.
Danny scrambled to his feet, half sure he was having some weird lucid dream, "yeah anything! Well, not my soul but I mean other than that-!"
"If I mentor you, you will not be allowed to quit. You'll have to push through to graduation, no matter what."
Icy blue met muted red, and Danny nodded enthusiastically.
"Of course! I'm not gonna give up, not when I actually have a chance!" He grinned, hands trembling with energy. Could this really be happening? Could he finally have his in?
"Well then, Daniel-"
"Wait how did you know my name?"
"-I'm clockwork, and I'd be happy to take you on as my apprentice."
They stuck out a hand, Roman numerals and curved lines running along the skin from the palm until it disappeared under a sweater sleeve.
Danny grabbed it, shaking perhaps a bit too excitedly.
The pocketwatch stopped ticking, the stars shone a tad bit brighter, just for a moment.
The tea leaves at the bottom of an old porcelain cup resembled a star.
⏳️____✨️
And that marks the start of danny becoming a witch in this au!
This au is based off of this post I made.
To make it make a bit more sense, in this au magic is practiced by humans and exists parallel to science and the modern world, kinda like little witch academia. Anyone can become a witch but you have to have completed a year long mentorship (at least) to qualify for any magic academy.
Only certain witches are qualified to be a mentor, with it essentially like being certified to be a teacher. Most mentors do public mentorships, mentor a specific family, or get hired on a witch by witch basis.
Clockwork just so happens to be certified, and as a time witch they knew that in quite a few timelines they'd mentor Danny, so they arranged it so they'd 'coincidentally' end up at the library at the same time as the kid trying to look into mentorships. Totally coincidental, not at all staged. Time magic.
Let me know if you want more of this au!
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porcelaincvnt · 1 year
Text
𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐧𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐚.
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🪷 𝐎𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐎 𝐗 𝐅𝐄𝐌! 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑
🪷 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖
𝐂𝐖 // non-massacre au, breeding, body worship, pregnancy, a bit of cockwarming, praise kink, “princess” and “sweets” are used.
𝐚/𝐧: istg obito has a grip on me. anyways, to my fem!reader followers, this one is for you 🫶🏼 ik i said i would write for everyone, but this account has been lacking fem!reader so my apologies. enjoy this treat i made for yall <3
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marrying him was both a blessing and a curse.
you couldn’t have been happier to marry into one of the most powerful and prestigious clans within the leaf. coming from a smaller clan, this obviously was euphoric news to them. you could never forget the excitement in your family’s eyes the moment they saw your ring perfectly snug around your finger, a blood red diamond shining boldly amongst the silver.
the man who gave you it was one you’d thought you’d never cross paths with. paired up with him on one small mission triggered a butterfly effect that seemed to stretch forever. despite his intimidating demeanor and his ninjutsu enough to make anyone’s blood freeze, he was a man the opposite of what he seemed. a childlike charm to him that tugged your heartstrings, a gentle soul and an unwavering heart of gold made you drawn to the man long after the mission was over. you understood why his two good friends adored the guy, even though it was complete whiplash to you. only through a friendly conversation with Rin would reveal his name. Obito Uchiha.
he was, perfect. the perfect boyfriend to now husband, the one you’d stay with until death. walking through the afterlife together for all eternity. even now, years into the relationship, you still felt like a young shinobi stuck in that lovestruck daze during that mission, a hopeless romantic under a cold gaze.
however, despite all your daydreaming and reminiscing, a piece was still missing.
as the early days of marriage withered away and the honeymoon was long over, obito began to appear less and less. nights became lonely without him, sometimes you don’t see him until days later. the bed was nearly always empty and cold, not even the blankets kept you warm. it was too much for you to handle. spending your days walking through the woods or visiting close friends and teammates, but became old way too fast. you had to understand though, he has important matters to attend to for the sake of his clan and you, you damn well knew that. you just missed him, simple as that.
of course, your not the type to hide under that cold gaze for long. it began to crack, like a doll’s face. falling apart in front of your dear husband, something you so desperately prevented. through your glassy eyes, you saw pain trace obito’s face. he couldn’t bear to see his wife crying in front of him, especially due to a neglect that was out of his control. the last thing he wanted was for you to feel abandoned and ignored, a feeling he knew too well.
“forgive me princess. let me make it up to you.”
a raspy whisper that filled your ear, your eyes widened as you immediately recognized the tone of his voice. before you could say anything, your feet left the ground as obito carried you bridal style to your shared bedroom. carefully setting you down, pulling your obi until your yukata came loose. slipping off your body, revealing your figure. running his hands up from your waist, obito stopped at your breasts. slightly squeezing and fondling them, while he runs his calloused fingers against your nipples. you watched as he leaned forward, latching his mouth onto one tit while his right hand continues to squeeze the other. his warm tongue swirls around your tit, occasionally sucking it through his lips.
obito nipped at your fragile skin, littering it with bite marks visible enough to see from afar. he only stopped to indulge in the sight in front of him. his love sprawled out, hickies littered your neck and chest. his eyes fell on your weeping cunt, begging to be stuffed full. only a weak and raspy please had your husband push your knees against your chest, and sink deep into you. your cunt fluttered around his girth as your cheeks stung from the heat, it felt like years since you’ve had sex with obito, yet the familiar feeling of being filled to the brim never failed to have you crumble underneath him.
almost like a switch, his desires wrapped it’s grip around him. almost like a chokehold, his pace quickly sped up. the sudden shock of pleasure made your mind blank, already seeing stars as your husband chased his high. he stared down at you, admiring your fucked out state. face hot with strands of hair stuck on the sides of it, eyes teary while your mouth hung open and eyebrows pinched upwards. it drove him wild, near animalistic. it’s something you rarely see your husband do, a sharp contrast to his gentle and kinder nature. it was so terrifying yet exciting. he was so stuck in his trance, you could only whine and push yourself against him, patience was thrown out the window when it comes to sex with obito.
it didn’t take long for him to grab your hips, a grip that will surely leave marks for days, and pulling you onto his cock. the image of your baring his children filled his head, your tits swollen with milk and a beautiful bump made him ravage you, desperate to fill you with his seed.
“fu- please y/n, please take this fuckin cock for me hm? please—“
his voice trails off in groans, curses under his breath as he leaned in, his face nuzzled into your neck. sweet kisses become messy, the pleasure was so much it became impossible to kiss him without crying out. you were close and so was he. a desperate “inside..” nearly pushed him to the edge, bodies pressed up against one another in a mating press.
“c’mon sweets, cum with me..”
he rasped, pushing you to your orgasm, as he finally reached his. nothing was more overwhelming then having your walls painted white, your womb filled with his seed, until it couldn’t take more. you remained in a mating press with obito as his cock sat in you, making sure you don’t waste a single drop. the afterglow settled in, you watched as he pulled his cock out, a whine spilling out from the emptiness you felt. that feeling fading away once you felt him kiss your forehead. you looked up to see a blushy and fucked out obito, who was smiling softly at his dear wife. entrapped in his larger arms, a sense of refuge and relief washed over you.
you knew you married the right man.
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sungbeam · 2 years
Note
That's okay, thank you for telling me. Would you be more comfortable doing something like your suggestive fic with Heeseung?
𝗱𝗮𝘇𝗲𝗱
lee heeseung x gn!reader
0.4k words, making out, implied hickeys at the end, suggestive, not proofread tbh
a/n: hi anonie!! tysm for sending in a request ^_^ i hope u enjoy <3 lol i feel like i always take a different route for each suggestive fic i write but it's like,, , idek nevermind 😭💀
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"Kiss me."
Lee Heeseung's eyes went as wide as a deer in headlights. Maybe if he wasn't hyper focused on the fact that you had just said that to him, he would have realized he just gave himself whiplash. "Sorry?" 
It was probably his poor hearing. The club's music was practically pulsing through his bones at this point, so he wouldn't be surprised if he had completely heard wrong. 
But your wide, desperate, dilated eyes were telling him otherwise. You grabbed him by the lapels of his bomber jacket and yanked him toward you. He felt the warmth of your breath dance on his lips and he was trying so, so hard not to look. 
But your mouth was right there.
"My ex is right there," you said to him, loud and clear. "Please. He won't bother us if he sees."
Heeseung struggled to swallow, his Adam's apple bobbing roughly. He cleared his throat—oh god, his heart was going to jump out of his ribcage. "Yn, you're not in the right state of mind. We can go to a different part of the club, maybe!"
"He's coming over," you squeaked. "I won't kiss you if you're uncomfortable, Hee, but please—"
Christ, you were begging. 
Heeseung leaned over, grabbed you by your cheeks, and swooped you into a kiss. Oh good god, your lips were so soft and pillowy, the kind of heaven that he couldn't have ever imagined. He could feel you relax against him for a split second, before you were pressing your mouth against his with just as much fervor. 
The smell of your perfume overwhelmed his senses, made him drunk and dizzy and dazed; he could only dive deeper and deeper. 
He tilted your head back to deepen the kiss and pressed you up against the side of the booth, your back flush against cool, polished wood. You whimpered into his mouth, and he nearly melted. 
Heart hammering against his chest, he pulled away. Both of your chests rose and fell rapidly as oxygen flooded your lungs. Heeseung searched your eyes, and wondered if you had enjoyed that as much as he had. Wondered if you wouldn't mind if he…
"Your neck is so pretty," he rasped to you, voice hoarse and roughened. His left hand trailed down your jaw and ghosted over your throat— "Can I mark you up, baby?"
There was that dilation. Your eyes widened, and now you were the one gulping. "Yes." You had no clue where this side of Heeseung had come from, but you were suddenly glad that you had asked him to kiss you. Yeah, your ex was gone, but it didn't mean either of you wanted to stop what you had begun. 
And as he cupped your neck in one hand and suckled the skin on your collarbone with his mouth, you had no one else but Lee Heeseung on your mind, on your tongue. 
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enha m.list
permanent taglist: @tayunji @im-a-big-mess @doodlewon @y3jiishot @crazywittysassy @seomisaho @stopeatread @enhacolor @yedammi @rnjfy @jaehunnyy @w3bqrl @smolpeyy @otchae @luv4vernon @shakalakaboomboo @ashxxkook @parkjusing @dior-15
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pinkpruneclodwolf · 1 year
Note
For the Malleus thing: it's overexposure on my answer. Malleus is a main staple character that has a lot of fans compared to say: Cater or Kalim. Of course, Octavinelle matches in turn for numbers with Malleus but Malleus also has a dedicated shipping fandom that are so attached to him that they cause... problems.
Shipping is fine in moderation but when I see enough people start fighting that this fictional character is "their" man and not someone else's OC, I know Malleus has had too much time in their head or something warped him. I like shopping and run a sort famous /Reader blog for all genders, and that gives me insight into who people kinda want on that side and Malleus is very famous. Shipping aside, Malleus also has such diehard fans that... they forget his CHARACTER!
Malleus' fandom is the same as Octavinelle (woobifying/creeps flooding in) and now bleeding in Savanaclaw (creeps flooding in/racism against dark skinned OC's): the story is revealing that Malleus isn't gap moe and is an actual character that can do wrong, and hurt people... and they HATE that. I've seen four people drop Malleus like a hat because he was didn't understand what he was doing wrong in the Dorm Uniform. Malleus has had a rigid set of understanding of creatures and it's very straightforward instead of nuanced, and even Malleus admits that he wants to try and projects that his advancement on human understanding will only take 100 years. That's fair considering he's been in the human world for 3 FREAKING YEARS, guys. I believe if we were given how long it took Lilia to understand a human customs outside of Silver experience, it'd not do anything to people's opinions. Because to them, it's not about him learning. He doesn't know so he's obviously a BAD CHARACTER, that must be it! "He's a jerk and now I'm going to do a 180° on my own Malleus opinion that is all over my blog and gave my followers whiplash, starting a bashing war by actually not doing a proper review of his character!" No. That's unfair. Why?
Malleus is an interesting character and I'm so sad that he's gone so far into the fandom that he's been woobified and there is no self warn anything: no disclaimer that this is a more romantic Malleus compared to the canon one, or people admitting that Malleus might be OOC as his character reads so incomplete because they write him so... wrong? I think my real problem is the tail end of fandoms that radicalize and throw Malleus around as something he isn't, and that's okay to a certain degree (my /Reader blog acknowledged that Malleus is a canon as I can do without just being Readers buddy, which he's more likely to be in canon). It's just... people are too radical, I think.
I fear the wars this man will create when Chapter 7, Part 3 shows he's got more flaws then he does. I can see a Rook Chapter 5 happening. :(
But I'm not all pessimistic, I know the right fandom should be encouraged and the minority should be ignored, so I know whatever Yana/Aniplex gives us: I support. I know common artists, writer's, editors are all doing fine and I interact normally, but I hate the "drop him" culture these games have in the EN side.
Oh no I get you.
Malleus by himself is an interesting character in his own right, without needing to be steeped in fanon.
I do think that because he was left to stew on his own with pieces of content to hold Mallelikers over, people ended up turning him into their own character to fit their own needs.
And in some ways it's kinda meta because that was something he was trying to escape his whole life so that he could be welcomed by those around him.
I'm usually not as steeped in the fandom as I used to be what w college and stuff creeping up but I'm genuinely sorry that everyone has experienced some form of harassment from both sides of the fence bc one hc didn't fit the other's or the argument of whether his character is good enough or not.
It's disheartening to see others get jumped because of how strongly they feel towards a character and its horrible that you have to endure that on your page anon.
I'm honestly praying Malleus doesn't go through what Rook went thru because that moment is still be felt to this day due to how decisive it was 😭😭😭.
And it's funny bc Rook not choosing Vil was supposed to give Vil growth, who was so hard pressed on winning to the point that he'd contemplated killing his opponent and subsequently Overblotted. The point was that Vil wasn't supposed to win because it'd feed into him. It was a lesson.
With Malleus' Dorm Vignette, I'd argue that him summoning the other dorm leaders was a long time coming considering they weren't doing any affirmative actions to ensure that Malleus could attend. He brought them to him because it was the only thing he could think of; he's not good with technology, time is a construct to him, and no student is willing to approach him for the fun of it unless it's to get smth out of it. It was mostly an act of burning the village to feel its warmth tho it wasn't out of malicious intent.
In the end I can reason he was still partially wrong, he only considered brainstorming with Lilia [and Lilia, a jokester that he is, encouraged him.] Instead of talking to Crowley.
But I do think that Malleus being the poster boy has led to him being so oversaturated in the fandom that a lot of his personality is lost in translation once more.
I liken it to Ace Trappola. Fanon!Ace played up his worst traits to the max without allowing the nuance of his character growth to shine thru. Luckily, Ace is in the recovery period but the same cannot be said for Floyd 😭😭😭.
My most basic observation is that popularity takes the nuance out of characters and I'm hoping against hope that Chapter 7 shows a new side of Malleus that sets the record straight bc as someone who loves character studies watching Malleus get chopped and screwed is 🥶🥶🥶.
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daddyhausen · 2 years
Note
Lazy sex with Matt Jackson when it’s super late but neither of you are sleepy?
ah yes my favourite malewife <3
.*•…………………..•⊹•…………………..•*.
• one hundred sleepless nights — matt jackson •
.*•…………………..•⊹•…………………..•*.
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.*•…………………..•⊹•…………………..•*.
{ masterlists } | { aew masterlists } | { matt jackson masterlist }
.*•…………………..•⊹•…………………..•*.
{ warnings } — 18+ { minors do not interact }, fem!reader, make-up sex, fingering, nipple play, multiple orgasms, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, penetrative sex, gentle sex, male + female orgasms, squirting, creampie, cockwarming
{ word count } — 1.2k
{ genre } — smut
.*•…………………..•⊹•…………………..•*.
{ taglist } — @boutmachines @thewrestlingbitch @omg-im-such-a-masochist @thebestintheworld @chrisdickinson @cuzimacomedian @wardlow @sammiejane22 @april-jeanette-wagner
{ comment if you want to be added to the taglist }
.*•…………………..•⊹•…………………..•*.
even with the warmth of the blankets and the comfort of your bed, it became almost impossible for you to find sleep. the bed empty aside from yourself, his side of the mattress cold, barren, still neatly made as the first day he left. he’d been away for some months now, with no insight of when he was to return. every phone call or text left you with such a feeling of hopelessness for his return 
“just a few more days” he’d say. those days soon sprawled out into weeks, and more recently into months, almost seven months to be exact. you missed his warmth, his touch, his comfort. you missed the nights where he’d quietly pull you into his chest, silently consoling you after a particularly frustrating day or a terrifying nightmare or the light press of his lips to your forehead as you’d slowly begin to drift into a lovely slumber. 
such sensations were only phantoms in your memory, especially in the past few weeks. you were not sure if you’d even be able to describe how they felt it had been so long. you found yourself staring mindlessly into the wall in front of you, it stared back, merely a blank canvas of a faded cream colour. you’d come to notice the small cracks beginning to form around the corner as the house continued to age. 
your eyes peering up slightly to the window frame, the colour was once a vibrant white, now a weathered grey from years of decay, paint chips beginning to flake off, revealing the wooden interior underneath. there was a soft breeze outside, the leaves from nearby trees rustling against the glass, the sound far less comforting when accompanied with your own lonesome silence. still sleep evaded you.
there was a slight creak of your bedroom door, your head whipped around with such speed that you almost gave yourself whiplash. you saw him, in the shadowy glow from the hallway, his figure placing his suitcase and backpack by the door, joining you on the bed in silence. that seemed to hurt more than the months without a word of his return. 
he wrapped his arms around you in silence, head upon your shoulder, fingers softly drawing shapes into the exposed skin of your stomach. you began to cry, completely overcome with emotions as your tears silently dripped onto the pillow, trying your best to stifle your sobs. 
“i’m sorry for leaving you for so long, princess…” he muttered quietly into the skin of your neck, tightening his grip around your waist. you remained silent for a moment, as per evidence of your frustrations with him. 
“you could have told me you were coming home…” your words muffled into the pillows, hiding your face from his gaze, desperately trying to dry your tears. he felt his heart break at your statement, you truly resented him in that moment, yet, you still kept yourself close to him, having missed him far too much. 
“i know, princess. i’m sorry. i thought you’d be asleep by now…” he leaned over you momentarily to place a soft kiss to your cheek. to be truthful, he’d wanted to surprise you with his return, although that sentiment seemed to do more harm than good as you pretended to have fallen asleep to end the conversation. 
“i know you’re not asleep…” he gave a small, helpless chuckle in the hopes you’d crack even the slightest smile. still nothing. he cleared his throat awkwardly, silence overcoming the room again. his body still leaning over yours, holding you close to his chest. “let me make it up to you, princess”
your eyes fluttered open at his statement, turning to face him slightly. through the darkness and in the silence, you kissed him, rather softly despite your frustrations towards him. he welcomed the kiss, his hands roaming your figure, prying his shirt you’d been wearing from your body, leaving you bare underneath it with the exception of your panties. his lips remained against yours, deepening the kiss as he allowed his fingers to slip down from your stomach, past the waistbands of your panties, lightly teasing your clit. 
you moaned against his lips, a sensation which made him smile to himself, his fingers dipped past your increasingly soaked folds, sinking into your void, slowly curling his long digits. you sucked in a shaky breath as he parted his lips from yours, replacing the sensation as his tongue swirled around your hardened nipple, lightly sucking and nipping the swollen bud between his teeth. a hand came up to play with his hair, slightly tugging at the dark strands, which have seemed to grow longer since you last saw him, stopping right between his shoulder blades. 
“matt…” you whimpered through a moan, hips bucking slightly to meet the movements of his fingers. he did not respond verbally, simply increasing his speed, that of which you felt yourself, shying away from him, merely due to the overwhelming pleasure. 
“keep still, princess” he muttered against your nipple, taking the sensitive bud between his teeth once more, tugging slightly, enjoying the way your breast bounced upon its release. “you’re so fucking close, baby. just a little more…”
his fingers moved at an ungodly pace, the sickly sweet wet sound flooding your ears, completely overshadowed the series of moans and profanities that followed. your back arched with such pleasure as your orgasm gushed around his fingers, he let out soft mutterings of praise as the bedsheets below became increasingly soaked, not that either of you seemed to mind at this moment. 
he pried his fingers from your warmth, licking them clean with a moan, a subtle “fuck” muttered under his breath. so much for the both of you sleeping. he was wide awake, despite the clock ticking towards three in the morning. you on the other hand, still coming down from your orgasm, once of which left your eyelids heavy. 
“no, no. princess” he cooed, lightly tapping your cheek to rouse you from your sleep. “stay awake for me. we’re not done yet”
in a matter of seconds he had stripped himself bare, re-joining you on the bed with a flurry of sweet longing kisses. he positioned himself between your thighs, lips still firmly pressed against yours as he slipped his cock deep into your warmth. his movements were slow, intentional, trying to draw out your second orgasm much slower than the first.
his body close to yours, skin to skin, your legs wrapped around his waist to gain more leverage, more pleasure. his thrusts still held the gentleness of his touch, yet ruining you so thoroughly, your back arched with a long moan, allowing him to wrap his arms around your figure, driving his cock deeper into your void, his own orgasm nearing. 
“matt please…” you hummed into his shoulder, nails leaving red rivers of your lust across his back, the sensation only fuelled his arousal further. he gave a final thrust, a rough one at that, his hot seed flooding your void to the brim, your own juices spilling around his cock. the scenario was ethereal, romantic even. both your orgasm flooding each other at the same time, it was a sensation you surely missed. he remained inside of you, revelling in the feeling of your warmth. 
“i promise i am never leaving you for that long again, princess”
.*•…………………..•⊹•…………………..•*.
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londonhalcyon · 10 months
Text
Chapter Update
You read that right. I’m still alive! Just drove halfway across the country solo and am pretty much on vacation whenever I’m not in the office, so updates will continue to be sporadic, not that that’s anything new at this point.
But new chapter! And one that can only be described as emotional whiplash. Fun.
Here you go:
Chapter 37: At a Loss
And here’s your obligatory chapter preview below:
* * * *
Chapter 37: At a Loss
My body felt fuzzy, like my consciousness was struggling to fit in it after a long holiday. My left arm was asleep. I had woken up on top of it. 
The surface beneath me was hard, slanted, and damp. The air clung to my skin, heavy with morning dew. Water beads coalesced beneath my fingers. Birdsong echoed all around, a cacophony of whistles, chirps, and trills. A solid warmth pressed against my back. Something tickled the nape of my neck. 
My dry eyes burned when I opened them. I had slept with my contacts in—again. Pinching the bridge of my nose, I blinked until my eyes watered. The rough roof tiles eventually came into focus, sparkling in the golden morning sun. The open sky was cloudless and blue, and the breeze carried the scent of fresh grass from across the field. I shivered, instinctively pressing against the warmth at my back. A faint huff sounded behind me. Warm air hit my neck. 
Oh. Oh, my God.
An arm was draped over my side. Gingerly so as not to dislodge it, I rolled over to come face to face with a sleeping Merula, her other arm tucked beneath her head. Eyes closed and face slack, she didn’t stir when I moved. 
“Merula,” I whispered, even though there was no one else around to disturb. “Merula.”
She grunted with groggy annoyance. I repeated her name louder. She mumbled a string of slurred syllables that might have been a sentence. 
“Merula,” I said. “Merula, we fell asleep on the roof.”
Her eyes cracked open, unfocused with sleep. She blinked at me, and gradually, her lips curved into a smile. “We did,” she said, a slight rasp to her voice.
“We fell asleep on the roof.” I laughed at the absurdity of it. She sleepily chuckled with me.
My left arm tingled uncomfortably from above my elbow to the tips of my fingers. I sat up to stretch it, flexing my fingers until the pins and needles faded. Arms wrapped around me from behind, and the warmth returned to my back. Into my shoulder, Merula said, “I’m not ready to wake up.”
I gave a very dignified, “Mmph.” I leaned into her arms. “I think we already have.”
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fandom-blackhole · 10 months
Note
How about 81 and 90 for boba?
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Come Celebrate with Me!
89. First Time  90. Unexpected Virgin
Boba Fett x AFAB!Reader
Soft caresses with rough, callused and scarred hands trail your body leaving paths of sparks that buried in your skin and made you feel as if you were burning alive. Sun chapped lips trailed your jaw and collarbone as your own lips parted in a soft sigh and you threw your head back to give your lover more access to your neck. Baring your throat where he grazed his teeth across the supple skin making you gasp and curl your fingers into his shoulders harder.
You and Boba had been together in some way for awhile, taking care of each other and slowly falling for the other was just written in your fates. You'd healed many bounty hunting wounds from when he still worked for Jabba, gave him a soft place to rest when everywhere around him was too dangerous to let his gruff down. Boba in return had saved you from many a bad characters and threats as well as helped you by bringing gifts of food and water when you had fallen on hard times even when you'd lied and told him you were fine. The two of you just circled each other for years, not moving closer until he disappeared, rumored to have died only to show up at you door years later, armor repainted and very much alive as he whisked you away to the palace he now claimed as his own.
That'd been a few months ago now, and since Boba has treated you like nothing short of royalty. Anything and everything you could have ever wanted he gave to you. But most importantly to you, the feelings the two of you had danced around previously were now shared and expressed through small touches- a reassuring hand on the small of your back, a trailing finger across you jawline, a keldab kiss before leaving for a few days, lingering kisses in the dark of night, hard kisses that never went too far after stressful days. But things never exceeded or went past chaste touches in a sense, hands never wandered too far, kisses never got too intense, the heat burning in your insides was never stoked to the point it consumed you, and oh how you wished it would. You wanted everything and more with Boba, but he always stopped short and you never pushed not wanting to cross a line and upset him.
But now, something had snapped in both of you, Boba's hands finally pushing up your tunic, running those sinful hands that you've dreamed about endlessly over bare flesh and you moaned directionly in his ear, whisper a soft, "Please," as you watched his pupils consume his brown eyes until nothing was left but an endless black hunger. As one of his hands continued to drift upwards he let his other skim downward, slipping a few fingers beneath the waistband of you pants leaving a teasing touch his fingers against your ass causing you to moan and throw your head back again, too which Boba took advantage of and nip at the hollow of you neck grunting as your hips involuntarily ground against his own. 
You felt drunk, high on every sensation Boba was providing you, so when he pulled back his face dark with a different emotion than before you felt a bit of whiplash from the change, but worry very easily over took the burning, even if it lingered naggingly in the back of your subconscious.
Quickly moving your hands to cradle his face, you met Boba’s eyes, which were still blown out with desire, making your belly clench, but you shoved it aside to instead ask, "What's wrong, love?"
His hands, now moved to your waist, tightened as he watched you, the silence stretching, but you waited knowing he was just trying to find his words. After a few minutes, as you were about to reassure him that he didn't need to tell you, that you didn't need to continue even though you so desperately wanted to, he replied, voice rough and torturously thick with conflicting emotions, "I can't….I… Little one, I don't know if I can…."
Confused, you furrow you brow and shake your head, brushing your thumbs across your lover's cheeks. "I don't understand, what can't you do?"
Closing his eyes, you could feel the vulnerability coming off him in waves as he pressed his forehead to your own and whispered, "I've never….done this. Gone further than this. I do not want to disappoint you."
Surprise overtook you, as you pulled him up to look at you once more, meeting his eyes with a soft, loving smile.
"I can't say I'm not surprised. I would have thought you'd had your pick of anyone in the galaxy."
When he saw no judgment, Boba relaxed a bit, leaning his face into your hands.
"I could have, if I wanted, I guess, but no one ever was special enough to peak my interest, for me to want them. Not before you, and after you… after meeting you no one else would ever be special enough, little one, I only ever wanted you."
Biting your lip you couldn't help the shiver that ran down your spine at his confession, the heat slowly creeping back to you conscious.
Unable to take it, you leaned forward and gave him a deep kiss, tongue pressing to his own as you swallowed each other's moans and one of your hands trailed downward, over his chest and stopping at his abdomen.
"I have wanted you for so long it has hurt. I don't care how much experience you have, only that you love me as much as I love you."
You meet his eyes as your hands slips into his pants, slowly wrapping around his thick twitch cock as you lean forward again, pressing a slow kiss to his lips as your hand moves slowly, Boba’s eyes drooping in pleasure as your kiss along his jawline to his ear, whispering, "We can take things slowly. There's no rush to get to know each other. My love, we have all the time in the galaxy."
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khodorkovskaya · 8 months
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05.09.23
okay so... deep breath...
im barely hanging on you guys. like. i am under so much stress.
so basically i had two exams to retake: probability and functional analysis. and it's the only ones i have left to complete my degree. but, here's the fun little twist! if i don't pass im out! i only have one chance to pass them. and if i don't, thats 4 years of studying down the drain. fun fun fun!!!!!
so the first exam was on the 28th and it was really hard. i studied a lot, made flashcards and everything. and it was like impossibly hard. the thing is, this was a yearly class, so the overall grade is the average of two semesters. i got a 4.5 for the 2nd semester, so i only need 3.25 to pass the year. but the exam was so hard idek if i got 3.25... the prof said that if we only fill out the theory questions, that's a 4. the theory questions counted up to 8 points, so like if i get 8 points overall, that's a pass. but guys... im so scared...
so ive been freaking out a lot. and taking anxiety meds. and when i think about this exam i feel this FEAR in all caps. like. it's so bad. i can't sleep, i can't do anything, my skin is breaking out, it's hell.
then the second exam was on the 4th, so yesterday. and i was this close to losing it like the pressure was too much to handle. i burst out crying right before the exam but i managed to calm down. and tbh i think i'll pass this one. it was also quite difficult but i think i did okay. but still. the FEAR...
like i can't even describe it to you guys. i don't know if i'll even be able to have the courage to open my grades when they arrive. like i went on the university portal yesterday and my hands started shaking and i like had to crouch down bc my whole body became so weak i couldn't stand. it was terrifying.
so yeah... im really not having a good time right now.
in other news, okay, so i wanted to find a video in my whatsapp messages. so i went to "media" and started scrolling and i stumbled upon some things B and i had sent to each other back in the day. and i saw his new profile picture and.... he's in budva.
and okay first of all call me fucking geoguesser. bc the picture is just a selfie of him standing in front of a mountain. and i knew it was budva just from the shape of the mountain alone. and his head in blocking most of the mountain too but i still knew that it was budva right away.
then out of curiosity i checked his telegram profile picture and it's him in the old town sitting on a boulder like the thinker. again, i knew it was budva right away lol. and it's funny bc i saw that he deleted all of our telegram messages. all of them! i wonder when he did it. and why.
and also it hurt bc budva is MINE. like when lucien went to budva i was super jealous. but like whatever, it's a touristy destination, it doesn't matter. but it's strange that B went there. i mean we have so many memories there together. it's like if i went to sarajevo all of a sudden. and i wonder who he went with. his friend from belgrade? his new gonzesse lol? anyway, yeah.
another weird thing is that okay my zurich friend was in town and he asked to hang out and i had to decline bc i was studying for the exam. and then i saw on instagram that he posted this one song to his story. and the story itself was weird, my oxford bestie sent it to me like "what is this? why is he so weird?". it was basically like a blurry photo of a dimly lit street but like whatever artsy.
but yeah, it gave me whiplash because i had posted this exact song to my story exactly a year ago. day for day. like isn't that a weird coincidence.
and usually you know how im very obsessive especially when it comes to music. like if i like a song i listed to it on repeat non stop for days. and because of that a lot of the music i listen to is linked to a certain period of my life. so the song my zurich friend posted is the song of me breaking up with B. that's why it stood out to me so much. it's so strange...
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xalicitie · 2 years
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Lackluster — A dive into Mike Wheeler’s fanon POV.
Mostly just fun practice for my writing since I was recently reading the Goldfinch. How the author played with words caught my attention. This is very short and I won’t be making a prequel so enjoy.
And uh how tf do you use someone gif and use credit this is confusing
https://elbyrs.tumblr.com/post/691673749189181440/did-shetalk-to-you-at-all-not-much-i-mean-a
Hawkins was a hollow place.
It was empty, and monotonous. Despite the dimension my girlfriend, El, had opened a gateway into, and all of the abnormality and madness that bled into Hawkins with it, the world of this town I’d grown up in was rather tiring and grueling.
My friends had taken it all discretely differently—Max had fallen into her own bubble, having to have dealt with Billy’s passing and sacrifice, Dustin was .. past it. Yes, it had been more than half of a year since the events of Starcourt had ensued, but the effects of the predicament were only now seeming to drown my demeanor, to prick my thoughts and engulf them until all I could think of was the irreplaceable loneliness that swam in my mind. Dustin being over it—being caught up in the our new DnD club, laughing like things hadn’t completely changed-it irked me.
And Lucas had been through the same thing, it was almost as if he’d forgotten the past events. He was enraptured by the idea of making a difference in the basketball team, albeit he sat on the bench for the whole damn season.
I was irritable. Sick with yearning, yearning for what we had before. The past piqued my interest, as I racked in my head how things could possibly go back to how they were.
Will. And El.
Believe me, I enjoy Dustin’s and Lucas’ company as any other best friend would. But those two—they completed my world, they were the remaining landmarks to what I called happiness.
El. My girlfriend. I enjoyed being around her, as any boyfriend would. I was flattered by her letters, and her sense of fun and the aspect of freedom that encapsulated her mannerisms left me in awe.
But there was a looming obstacle, like an iceberg, that dawned before our relationship.
I was not in love. I feigned it; I knew it, but my incredulity abstained me from approaching the feeling.
Had I ever been in love with her? The question gave me whiplash, it forced me to consider all of what our relationship was and who I was and who or what was the catalyst of my sudden uninterest.
Will.
I hadn’t seen him in so long, I could barely picture him in my mind, the image of him was a blurry, rainy picture—his gleaming brunette hair and his sleek, alabaster skin, and his incandescently beautiful eyes. Ones I could run amiably in and dance with infatuation in.
I was burdened with guilt. It hung on the broad of my shoulders like weights. I was guilty of faking my endearment for El, for being attracted to a man. For being attracted to the boy who happened to be my first real friend.
A heaviness wilted my eyes at night as I mused on what to do about the situation. How I’d act when I flew over to California, whether I’d choose honesty—a coarse road—over fraud.
I’d find out March 22nd.
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