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#all of those memories are you serious
lunarharp · 4 months
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when an obsessed orufrey person plays ace attorney for the first time in a while
#witch hat tag#orufrey#you know those times when the defendant is still in shambles at the end of a case because it was not a clear-cut thing#but you get to present one Special Sentimental piece of evidence that proves not all is lost#qifrey's breakdown would be like... he turns up calm and pleasant like dahlia kristoph gant etc but very quickly:#well first he's hiding his scar so you have to use the bracelet and also you find out about the seal on his hat using that.#eventually he is throwing water that comes out of nowhere like that coffee prosecutor guy. and his cape starts billowing#the more he breaks down his neck thingies start coming undone btw. To represent his descent into guilt and his LIES becoming undone.#course as the player i have already used my magatama and seen his 35894 psychelocks. but theyre those BLACK psychelocks#representing his repressed memories taken by the brimhats. also his glasses shatter out of nowhere when you keep presenting evidence#and tartah's testimony etc. and the player is like UHH this guy is A PUPPET MASTER but coco's heartfelt testimony commands the tone#and of course he's someone who has been twisted and damaged by trauma like adrian andrews. the mastermind is of course the brimhats#only me with my magatama knows that... only i can do it. It has to be me.....#just like how as the reader i can see everything about qifrey and i can hold him dear as much as i judge him#whereas if i were oru things would not be ok unless memories can be restored and mentally ill decisions can be illuminated#WELL ANYWAY !!!!! what i appreciate about ace attorney is its ability to mix silliness with seriousness#i cant usually make jokes about serious heavy heartbreaking stuff in witch hat because it is all very intense emotions for me#but i appreciate ace attorney's mix of sincerity and psychological pain and the inherent silliness to being a character in a situation#so.....Get Iguin on the stand. Now. BAILIFF.. TAKE OFF THE MASK#i would most love to be able to prove qifrey's eyesight is failing. hed be like I have no reason to pursue the brimhats (smiles pleasantly)#and it would be like You're lowering your gaze.. proof that the court lighting is too harsh for you..!#his glasses would crack at that moment btw. I used apollo's bracelet and saw the glyphs on the glass.#I know all about u. and i will save u
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ride-a-dromedary · 7 months
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I personally think a nice way to give us more chances to talk to Halsin in Act 3 is giving us the option to ask him for a new story from his 350 years of life, and we get a new tidbit of information that changes based on how high his approval is, or whether or not he's being romanced. If the approval is low, he shares little or refuses. I want a chance to hear about how much he studies, meditates, and hibernates and not just the salacious parts!
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newjenns · 2 years
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sol the timing is ruthless i agree but it was planned? don’t turn one fucking nice thing we have left into something horrible
girl i didn’t even say anything that fucking serious i just can’t stand him uploading and using technoblade’s name at a time like this which i think is fair e fucking nough all things considered.
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martva-v-lozku · 4 months
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Nie myślałam o tobie od lat
Twoja pamięć zdaje się przychodzić i odchodzić
Nasz czas wiele dla mnie znaczył
Teraz nie można Cię znaleźć
Byłeś pierwszym, który mnie chciał
Pierwszy, który mnie pokochał
Pierwszy, który mnie potrzebował
Kto jako ostatnia Cię poznała?
Ostatnia, która cię kochała?
Ostatnia, która cię trzymała?
To wspaniałe, cudowne życie
Takie cudowne, cudowne życie
Dzisiaj znów o Tobie pomyślałam
Przypomniało mi, jak z biegiem czasu się zmieniłam
Gdybyś tylko wiedział, co mi dałeś
Teraz nie można Cię znaleźć
Byłeś pierwszym, któremu zaufałem
Nauczyłam się, czym jest miłość, gdy byliśmy dziećmi
Kiedy tak się zagubiłeś?
Jak mogłeś pomyśleć, że będzie ci lepiej?
To wspaniałe, cudowne życie
Dlaczego musiałeś się pożegnać?
Dziękuję za te wyjątkowe chwile
Zawsze będziesz tu, w moich myślach
Czy wiesz, że zmieniłeś moje życie?
Jestem wdzięczna za ten czas
Jestem wdzięczna za ten czas
Jestem wdzięczna za ten czas
To wspaniałe, cudowne życie
Dlaczego musiałeś się pożegnać?
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tobiasdrake · 2 months
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*deep breath* Okay. Here we go.
I don't think the Netflix Avatar show likes women very much. It's a great show for fans of Aang, Sokka, Zuko, and Iroh specifically. All four of those characters get a ton of great material. In fact, it's super great for Sokka stans, because the show takes him ultra-seriously and can't go five minutes without one character or another (usually a woman) praising him.
But the way it handles its female cast is troublesome.
Katara
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So, all three of the main trio got some changes made to their stories. They changed Aang's story so that he wasn't running away from his responsibilities; He was just clearing his head and somehow accidentallied himself into a tsunami. Whoopsy-dooodle. Aang did nothing wrong.
They changed Sokka's story so that him being a leader of his people and a great guardian warrior is treated with complete seriousness. Multiple times, characters stop to talk about how brave and noble Sokka is for taking on such an intense responsibility, and tell him to his face what a great warrior and a wonderful leader he is. Also his misogyny is erased.
And they changed Katara's story so that she directly got her mom killed because she sucks at waterbending.
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Katara tries to waterbend to attack the Fire Nation soldier but couldn't manage it, provoking the soldier to start actively searching for her and forcing her mom to fake a waterbending attack and draw his fire. They changed Katara's story so that her bad decision making fucking got her mom killed.
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This is treated with the same level of severity as "Sokka was bullied by mean kids and also his dad doesn't think he's good enough to be a leader."
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"I hoped Sokka would do better but not everyone is meant to have people's lives in their hands," Sokka's dad says of him.
Yeah, you're right, that's totally comparable to watching your mom get barbecued because you tried to waterbend in a situation you shouldn't have and then failed.
In fact, they give Sokka's greatest trauma more weight because it gets examined again with Yue next episode, while Katara actively getting her mom killed isn't brought up again at all. We get traumatized glimpses of it throughout the season leading up to the reveal, but after this scene in episode 5, it never comes up again.
But to be fair, Katara was a child. An event this significant would surely have motivated her, driving her to become the great waterbender she is now, right?
No! Katara sucks at waterbending and needs men who aren't even waterbenders to teach her how to waterbend. She requires instruction from Aang in episode 1 to learn how to waterbend, then from Jet in episode 3 to learn how to waterbend better.
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And unlike the show, her relationship with Aang isn't a give-and-take; Katara doesn't teach Aang a single goddamn thing. He never learns to waterbend. She is a strictly a pupil throughout the whole season. Though she at least gets officially labeled a master in episode 8, so there's that.
In any case, the whole traumatic memory thing isn't even the only time she's directly compared with Sokka. Episodes 3 and 4 see Katara and Sokka bicker over whose morally dubious side character is better. Sokka likes the Mechanist and Katara likes Jet.
Ultimately, Katara is forced to eat crow when Jet turns out to be the worst, while Sokka is vindicated when the Mechanist sees the error of his ways and reforms. But not before two separate arguments where Sokka calls Katara childish and accuses her of acting like a little girl.
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Arguments ultimately resolved when Katara apologizes to Sokka for not adequately respecting his very serious and ultra important role as village protector and leader. Gives him a whole speech about how great and glorious he is. And Sokka... appreciates Katara learning to respect him properly, I guess, because he never offers any similar sentiments back to her.
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The show just... They need you to know how important Sokka is, okay? It's very important that you respect Sokka.
Suki
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Suki suffers tremendously from that whole "Sokka's misogyny was removed" thing. Y'know, because they need something else to do with that episode. The show is deeply aware that Suki is Sokka's love interest, so they just do that right off the bat. Suki falls madly in love with him from the moment they meet, and spends the entire episode making goo-goo eyes and trying to get him to Notice Me Senpai.
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They still do the "Suki Trains Sokka" stuff. But Sokka is a serious, dignified manly man worthy of the deepest respect now, so of course they don't make him wear the Kyoshi uniform. Instead, the main purpose of his training is to allow them to flirt some more. It's less martial arts training and more an excuse to grope each other and near-kiss.
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Suki's just a waifu now. She still fights real good, but all of the stuff that made her relationship with Sokka interesting has been erased.
Yue
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Yue, similarly, leaps straight to shipping from the word go. They write out her fiance, Hahn, by having Yue briefly meet Sokka earlier in the season. She spends one minute talking to him in the Spirit World about Spirit World lore; In that time, she falls so desperately, madly, unfathomably in love with him that she breaks off her marriage to Hahn and devotes herself to waiting for him to one day come to her.
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"Never have I known such joys as that time you let me explain the spirit bear Hei Bei to you. Truly, we are destined to be together for life."
Like with Suki, they go out of their way to have Yue and Sokka already be a ship from the word 'go' so they don't have to spend time developing any kind of meaningful attraction.
They just. They really want you to know that Sokka is the manliest and most desirable man ever to walk this earth. It is very important that you understand how great he is. Women hurl themselves into his arms with zero effort whatsoever, because he's just so goddamn irresistible.
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Fortunately, Hahn is super okay with this turn of events. He's the most chill guy ever, he gets along perfectly well with Sokka, and he completely supports Yue's right to dump him! In the famously misogynistic Northern Water Tribe, no less! What a swell guy. Aren't men swell?
June
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June gets hit with that "rewritten as hollow waifu" stick too, but her eyes are set on Iroh. They rewrote June to be super attracted and flirty towards the man who was her unwanted sexual harasser in the source material. So that's fun.
Also, she barely does anything. Zuko hires her to find Aang, she succeeds, and then she fucks right off out of the show - But she manages to find time to express how unbelievably sexy Iroh is twice during that time.
She seriously just dropped into the show to flirt with Iroh and leave. She is unbelievably inconsequential.
Kyoshi
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And then there's Kyoshi. They really want you to hate Kyoshi. She's constantly shot from below, as if looking down on Aang and the audience. Her voice takes on a demonic echoing reverb at one point as she's screaming at Aang that "THE AVATAR MUST BE A MERCILESS WARRIOR!!!"
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She despises Aang, calling him a coward for running away from his responsibilities - Which, I remind you, is no longer a plot point because they unwrote that flaw from his character. So she's just a complete and utter asshole, shot from the asshole angle, yelling violently at him with asshole sound effects. They want you to despise this woman.
Azula
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Awkwardly, they do not seem to want you to despise Azula.
There's a lot to be said for how Ozai treats Azula in the original show. The way the favoritism he shows her is every bit as cruel and manipulative as the unfavoritism that he shows Zuko. Ozai does not love Azula. He loves the reflection of himself he sees in her eyes, and his encouragement urges her to polish herself to ensure his reflection always shines through.
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This is not that. The show instead erases the favoritism entirely. Ozai doesn't really care one way or another about either of his kids. He plays them against each other, bragging openly to Azula about how great Zuko is and unpleasably writing Azula off as weak and useless.
They've rewritten the dynamic between abusive father and his two abused kids in order to take Azula's pride away. Reimagining her from a gifted prodigy who excels at imitating the toxic behaviors of a father who doesn't truly care for her, to a put-upon overachiever tearing herself in knots to live up to the standards of her unpleasable father.
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This results in a truly wild portrayal of Azula as insecure and jealous of Ozai's seemingly love for Zuko. Here, she is simply a browbeaten child constantly complaining to her friends about how mean her father is and conspiring to get one up over Daddy's Golden Child Zuko.
Which she fails at, because she backs Zhao. Zuko deftly defeats her without even realizing they're in competition.
Conclusion
The season ends well for some of these women. It ends promising that maybe we'll see Katara teaching Aang some day. It ends with Zhao bragging that Ozai just used Zuko to train Azula so maybe we'll see the more confident and misguidedly proud Azula some day. Yue becomes the moon like she's supposed to. June's still out there so maybe she'll get to do something again some day.
Katara gets to fight Pakku and lose, but she looks pretty cool. She gets to fight Zuko and lose, but she looks pretty cool. Azula learns to lightningbend because she's just so mad about Ozai's contempt for her and favoritism for Zuko, which isn't how you lightningbend.
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But promises of future content fall flat when the content that exists is so underwhelming. This season made its feelings on these characters pretty evident, and it's unwise to expect better material from creators who've disappointed you with the material they already made.
The women of Netflix Avatar simply do not get to shine, outside of superficial moments like the "Women of Northern Water Tribe demand the right to fight and then fuck off and don't do anything for the entire rest of the episode" bit.
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"In the midst of battle, we demand that you stop being sexist and give us permission to fight! This is a way better idea than convincing you to teach us to fight before the battle begins."
The characters of this show feel as if they've been reimagined to glorify the boys at the expense of the girls. The boys are treated with a great amount of care. They're dignified and made important movers of the plot, with their rough edges sanded off. While the girls are molded around them.
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insanechayne · 8 months
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~ ~ ~
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tonycries · 1 month
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Initiation!
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Synopsis. “Just a small initiation, nothing too serious.” Couldn’t be too hard, right? So why are you - the all-new frat sweetheart - being pinned to the bed and stuffed full from all ends by your frat brothers?
Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader, Geto Suguru x Reader, Fushiguro Toji x Reader, brief Nanami x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, fratboy! JJK men, gangbang, frat sweetheart! reader, cumplay, choking, oral (male + female), anal, double penetration, cunnilingus, Suguru is MEAN - so is everyone else, some heinous things idek how to tag, unprotected, no curses! AU, marking, pet names (princess, darling, doll), swearing.
Word count. 4.8k
A/N. Am not the same person I was before I wrote this…
Art by @_3aem on X.
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Tequila was your best friend when Suguru and Satoru weren’t around.
Which is probably why you were five shots deep before 9pm, heavy bass thrumming through your veins and sleek tabletop steady under your rocky heels.
Everything was a blur. The pulsing neon lights, cheers following your every sway and twirl, and the atmosphere heavy with beer and laughter in that heady Jujutsu Phi frat house. 
You almost miss that familiar flash of cloudy white locks and those narrowed black eyes greedily watching your hips to the beat. Almost. 
An excited exclamation of “There’s our all-new sweetheart!”. And the world tilts.
Falling down really does feel good. Especially when the ground is so warm - and smells faintly of overpriced cologne. 
“Careful, there, Satoru. Wouldn’t wanna hurt the sweetheart right before initiation.” 
A pair of strong arms underneath you, and a deep voice hot against your ear. “Havin’ a lotta fun without us, huh?”
Oh, you’d recognize those devastatingly handsome faces anywhere. You blink, eyebrows furrowed slightly at your best friends as you tried to focus on their words. “Sweetheart? Me?”
To your right, Suguru nods slowly, a sly smile playing on his lips. “Absolutely. Who else? No one better we can think of, darling.” 
Satoru’s eager voice chimes in, “As presidents, and the only men to binge Bridgerton with you, we love you. The frat brothers love you too, especially our supervisor.”
“Mmm, I dunno. What do I hafta do?” face heating and words slurring together, in your alcohol-induced haze, you miss the devilish glance shared between the two. 
Satoru chuckles, a dark glint in his eyes, “Just a small initiation, nothing too serious.”
Your laughter is infectious, and without much hesitation you raise your empty shot glass in toast, “Hmm, deal! To the newest frat sweetheart! How hard can it be?”
---
The consequences aren’t half as fun as the chaos.
Wincing at the dull ache reverberating in your head, you struggle to make sense of your surroundings in the dim lighting. Still disoriented and bleary-eyed, you sink into soft navy bed sheets.
Ah, soft. So soft. Warm, with a tinge of candied apples.
Satoru.
Slight panic setting in, and Satoru’s room swaying ever-so-slightly, you try to will away the overplayed pop pounding from the party still raging below - focusing on the whispered conversation at the foot of the bed..
“---blast at the party------”
“------frat---sweetheart.”
Head snapping up in a daze, the word “sweetheart” echoes in your ears. 
Something heated and prickly pools in your stomach as fragments of memories from not too long ago begin to piece themselves together. 
Your dawning realization - and sense of impending doom - is interrupted by a soft hum of delight
“Well, well, look who’s finally awake - our dear sweetheart.” Satoru teases, while Suguru, with his arms crossed, chuckles.
Liquor suddenly nowhere on your mind, your heart races - something about the suggestive gleam in their eyes doesn’t exactly ease your nerves. Your cheeks flare, the room feels suddenly smaller, the air thicker. 
You sit up, rubbing your temples, and the two of them exchange loaded glances that send shivers creeping down your spine.
Satoru pushes himself off the wall with a devious smirk, taking a deliberate step closer. “How’s our sweetheart feeling? You knocked out for a good hour or two, y’know. Was almost worried you’d miss the initiation~”
“What the fuck did I agree to?” you mutter to yourself. Yet, Suguru answers anyway, his voice a dangerous purr, “Just a little test of courage, darling. But don’t you worry; we’ll take very good care of you.”
Satoru nods, his gaze intense. “It’s all in good fun, princess. You’ll see.” His warm breath grazes your face as they tower over you, inching closer and closer. “Now, you wouldn’t go back on your word, would you?”
Goosebumps erupt along your shoulders at the proximity - and the realization - all the way down to where your thighs were desperately squeezing together. Shit.
Gojo Satoru and Geto Suguru. It was hard to be best friends with them for years and not hear about the whispered rumors of how they were in bed. Enough to send a woman to heaven - or the hospital - they said. And you couldn’t deny that ugly little part of you that was sinfully curious.
A beat passes in the suddenly charged air. As if they were waiting. Studying your reaction - like predators stalking their cornered prey. Will you run away? Will you fight? Will you submit to them completely?
The room is silent, except for the distant thump of the music below, seemingly miles away. 
One. Two
Finally - not trusting yourself to speak - you manage a nod. 
Darkened blue eyes meet Suguru’s half-lidded ones, a silent understanding passing between them before resting on you - splayed out on the bed and tight dress hiking up so enticingly.
Oh. 
Oh, shit. You were in for it.
Without warning, Satoru surges forward, lips catching yours in a bruising kiss. You whine against his soft lips, the distinct taste of Baileys and Satoru completely filling your senses - you almost don’t register the slow, purposeful trail of kisses Suguru leaves down your heated neck. Almost.
Skin searing where his lips linger along your jawline, Suguru murmurs, vibrations sending a jolt of electricity right to your core. “Shhh, relax, darling. We’ll take care of everything.”
Maybe it was the way Suguru’s words were dripping in lust and something dangerous, tongue darting out to lick a long, sensual stripe up your neck.
Or maybe it was the way Satoru was sloppily licking at your lips, thumb pushing your chin down to suck on your tongue with his candy lips. But the room was spinning - and this time, it wasn’t the alcohol. 
“T-Toru- Sugu-” a muffled whine you barely even recognize rips from the back of your throat - and it was like something snapped. Maybe their restraint, maybe their sanity - definitely you by the end of this.
A hand hot on your thigh - Suguru’s or Satoru’s? You don’t have the time to wonder, the sequins hit the ground before you even realize what is happening. 
Skin-tight dress now in tatters on Satoru’s carpeted floor, you shudder as the cold air hits your heated skin. Large hands everywhere. Cupping your ass, tweaking your hardened nipples through your bra. Leaving your underwear in such a disarray as if it killed them to see you clothed.
“Shit. Suguru, look at this.” Satoru’s groans lowly, predatory gaze transfixed on the sight of your dripping cunt..
“Oh fuck, darling. Were you all ready and expecting this, hm? Our perfect lil’ slut.” Suguru’s smiles sinfully as he looms closer, a long finger playing teasingly with the thin fabric of your now-soaked panties.
You buck your hips, desperate for more fiction, as a manicured nail lightly grazes your swollen folds. Shit, and you thought Suguru would be the nicer of the two. “Please, Sugu.”
“Now now. Behave, darling. Wouldn’t want to get off on a wrong start to the initiation.” Suguru hums, pulling off your panties completely as Satoru’s iron-hold grip on your hips pin you helplessly to the bed. You struggle pathetically, leaking pussy aching for more more more.
And Satoru - your ever-merciful Satoru - listens to your desperate keens. Because, agonizingly slow, he drops to his knees, eye-level with your quivering pussy. 
“I’ll be taking this as payment, princess.” he hums, hot breath hitting your cunt in a way that almost makes you miss the way he snatches your wet panties right out of Suguru’s hands. As if a prize to be won.
Your face burns at the humiliation - or maybe at the way strong hands wrestle your thighs open. You gasp at the burn of the stretch, tense air grazing your throbbing clit as Suguru lets out a low whistle in appreciation.
You were so exposed. So vulnerable. And these fuckers hadn’t even taken off their goddamn shirts yet. 
Mouth opening to retort - or maybe beg for an ounce of friction, just anything that would-
Bang!
Dazed, you whirl your head towards where the door had now slammed open. In your lust-induced haze, you barely register the notion that someone else was going to see you so spread so shamefully and dripping all over Satoru’s sheets. Ah, they were going to scream. They were going to run away-
“Aww, already started without me?” a deep voice rumbles, raspy, dangerous. “Shit, these two brats weren’t kiddin’, you’re such a doll, aren’t you?” 
Satoru’s smirk grows at the slick pooling at your core as you make out just who it was that stood so imposingly at the door. 
Toji Fushiguro.
Someone you’d heard of more than you’d seen - for several reasons. Known around campus as the long-standing supervisor for Jujutsu Phi, but known more popularly amongst students as the man with a dick to die for.
The shutting of the heavy wooden door reverberates across the electrifying air inside. Your mouth drops into a soft oh as you spot the rock-hard cock straining furiously against Toji’s trousers, a dark patch of precum already pooling at the tip.
Oh. No wonder they say his dick can split you in half. 
Eyes following his every purposeful step towards the bed, you absent-mindedly wonder whether your best friends were hiding a matching achingly hard cocks. 
“Oh, fuck yes. Such a pretty pussy.” Toji appraises your cunt, greedily eyeing the way your walls flutter around nothing, slick pooling where Satoru was but a few inches away from where you needed him the most.
“Yo, old man. Catch.” Satoru’s voice rings in the loaded air. Muscled arms flexing, Toji easily catches the flimsy piece of fabric thrown at him, a lecherous smile growing as he realizes what it is.  “M’gonna have a lot of fun with you, doll.”
“Don’t count us out now, Toji. I’ll be making sure she’s absolutely ruined.” Suguru’s slow, sinful drawl has your head spinning.
Probably for the first time in his life, Satoru doesn’t speak.
Instead, he dives nose-deep in your cunt. Pretty ruby lips meeting your swollen ones, urgently lapping up your sweet juices, as if a man dying of thirst.
“Hah- Oh! Toru!” you whine, hips bucking up into his hot tongue as he bullies past your folds and into your quivering entrance, hurried yet methodical. You could feel Satoru’s lips curling at the lewd whimpers ripping from your throat. Bruising grip on your hips pulling you impossibly deeper onto his greedy tongue. 
He wastes no time - stretching you out on his tongue so sinfully, dipping in and out of your dripping hole at a merciless pace. In and out in and out in and-
“Hope you didn’t forget us, darling. I’d be heartbroken.” Suguru’s mocking words ring in your ears. Not completely present with Satoru’s dizzying abuse on your cunt, you can do nothing as Suguru snakes a hand down to your heated core. 
“Don’t move, doll.” 
And before you know it, two more sets of hands are unforgivingly on you.
All you can do is just lay there and take it as Suguru’s cruel, slender fingers tease your folds, up and down up and down - pointedly skipping your throbbing clit. A languid, sadistic smile spreads across his face as you whine in desperation.
Where Satoru was generous and impatient, Suguru wanted to make you cry. How could you ever have thought he’d be the nice one?
Hasty lips are on yours now, a small scar rubbing your lips in a way that so obscenely reminded you of the tongue still ruthlessly fucking into you right now. Pulling away mere centimeters, Toji murmurs lowly, “Open your mouth.”
As if on auto-pilot, you groan as Toji's steady stream of spit hits your ready tongue. Eyes rolling to the back of your head at the warm feeling, tasting of sin and everything you shouldn’t be doing.
Thick, calloused fingers squeeze your cheeks together, his spit now drooling down the corner of your mouth. “Now, show me what those pretty lips can do.” Toji grits out. 
Your eyes widen as he pulls down his pants just enough for his furiously hard cock to spring free, sculpted thighs straddling the side of your face. 
Thick and unforgiving. A prominent vein twirling delicately down his monstrous length. Precum leaking onto his sculpted abdomen, dripping erotically down to mix with your soaked underwear in his veined hand gripping the base.
Nervous eyes flitting between Toji’s bulging cock in front of you, to the slick dripping down Suguru’s wrist, and Satoru’s hooded eyes, miles away, and grinning devilishly around your cunt - you’re sure of one thing - you’d be damn lucky to make it out alive.
Toji’s throbbing head pokes your kiss-bitten lips, precum salty on your tongue. He spares no mercy.
“C’mon now. If you’re actin’ like such a cockslut then learn to take it like one.” Searing grip on your hair, Toji pushes his cock all the way down your ready throat, using your mouth as if it was nothing more than his favorite fucktoy. Maybe you’ll become his favorite fucktoy.
Your pathetic, wet gurgles mix with the lewd squelches of your cunt as Toji’s heavy balls hit your chin. Fat head hitting the back of your throat and your nose pressed into the tufts of thick, black hair at his pelvis. “Mmm fuck yeah.” he groans, thick fingers pressing around your neck to feel his dick down your throat. 
Drawing low hisses as you tongue at his slit, you breath in the heady scent of Toji and you on your panties and Toji-
“Look s’pretty gagging on his cock, darling.” Suguru’s voice is still silken smooth, mockingly pressing a kiss to your cheek. Pooling the trail of spit and precum on his tongue, before licking a long, languid stripe.
“F-fucking freak.” Toji huffs out a laugh, relishing the way you moan so lewdly around his cock. “Oh? You like that, doll? Little slut, aren’t ya?”
A dangerous chuckle, and he’s thrusting animalistically into your poor, pretty mouth. Balls tightening each time his thick cock disappears into your mouth, lips stretching almost-painfully to accommodate him. Toji’s hand closes tighter around your throat, blocking your airway. Making you choke and gasp for air around his cock, blood roaring in your ears.
Shit, he was going to break you.
Suguru’s clever mouth was on your aching tits now, jolts of electricity going straight to your cunt as he tweaks and teases your hardened nipples. Thumb rubbing harshly over your sensitive tip the way he wouldn’t with your clit. Over and over-
“Suguru, gimme the bra.” you whine, hips bucking as Satoru’s muffled words send vibrations exactly where you wanted.
In a flash, your bra is unclasped and thrown to Satoru. Wrapping it around one large hand, it disappears where you cannot see. Yet the jerky, impatient movements of his hand below - up, up, up - and down have your walls clamping down desperately on Satoru’s tongue.
Ah, he looked so pretty when he was shut up with his mouth full of your dripping cunt. Fucked out whimpers leave Satoru’s throat at each flick of his tongue, fucking your pretty pussy with his mouth till you felt raw.
Suguru - the ever-graceful Suguru - had his brows furrowed desperately. Lips messy with spit as he bites and teases your nipples hard, making you cry out in wet, little gurgles that muffle around the throbbing erection in your mouth, fucking into you with reckless abandon. Toji’s heavy balls stinging your face as he bottoms out with each harsh shove down your throat. 
He didn’t care if you could breathe - as long as you sucked the ever-loving soul out of him.
The heady air is urgent now. Hasty movements now becoming more and more frenzied. Mindless with lust. Filthy. Debauched. It was so fucking sinful. 
So it only made sense that your orgasm was the same.
You see white as you cum - or maybe that was the hot, thick ropes of seed that Toji painted your face with. Moans muffled and hips bucking deliriously, you moan breathlessly as neither of the three men give up their relentless abuse. 
Your head shot up blindly in pleasure, sharp teeth digging into your shoulder - hard enough to break skin. Suguru. 
Wrestled down onto the bed by three sets of strong arms still groping the expanse of your body, you ride out your white-hot high on the taste of Toji slipping down your throat, Satoru’s still merciless tongue, and Suguru’s index finally pressing down on your throbbing clit. Hard. 
Blood roaring in your ears, your vision blurs as you sink into the mattress. You think you’re in heaven, and it was only fitting that these demons with angelic faces were the first things that you see there.
“You alright, darling? Can’t have you go passing out on us mid-initiation, now.” Suguru tuts, sharing a glance with Satoru, who was absolutely dripping in satisfaction - and your slick, prettily glossing his lips and nose.
“Mmm- s’fucked out. Ah-” Your violent climax leaves you limp, and you feel like a fucking ragdoll with the way Suguru wraps a steady arm around your waist, pulling you impossibly close against him. You whine as your stinging tits meet his toned body, sticky with the heat of the room. When did he even take his shirt off? 
Satoru isn’t too far behind, with little care for the buttons flinging across the room as he rips his shirt open - creamy chest peeking out in all its chiseled glory. Shit.
You almost miss the bed shifting as Toji sits on the edge, watching the three of you with greedy eyes as he fists his cum-covered cock with your panties. Teasing, purposeful movements up his length.
Suguru’s hand stroking your face, Satoru’s on your hips.
“After all that princess, you deserve a little treat.” Satoru purrs lowly, lips glistening with your juices and breath hot against your ear. Shivers run along your spine - right down to where he was groping and playfully swatting your ass. Darkened eyes narrowed at the way it jiggled against his large hands. 
“T-treat? Wha-” 
Your disoriented stammers are stuck in your throat as Suguru shoves two long fingers into your mouth. Whatever moans leaving your lips are choked and muffled as he forces you to taste yourself. 
Fingers intertwining with your tongue, you’re delirious with the want for more more more - and evidently, Suguru is too, throbbing and leaking with need as he pushes his soiled boxers down. Something cold makes you flinch as your quivering thigh grazes his clothed erection. 
Oh. Who knew your best friend had a dick piercing?
“Fuck, darling. Really should’ve done this sooner.” he murmurs, voice thick with lust and more to himself than you. “Mhm. You don’t know how hard it was to not bend you over and stuff you till you can’t speak, princess~” a whisper from behind you - Satoru.
Before you know it, Satoru’s lips find yours in a fiery kiss amidst it all. As if he couldn’t get enough of the sweet taste of your cunt - and probably never will. 
Suguru is languid and unhurried where Satoru is impatient and starved, rutting desperately against your ass. 
Every twirl of Suguru’s finger is deliberate, leaving a trail of lingering electricity in its wake. And with searing passion, Satoru’s tongue tastes you in all the ways he possibly could. The three of you tangled in an unholy act. 
Fuck, it was messy. So fucking messy. 
Delicate strings of saliva and slick connecting you to the two as drool drips down the corner of your mouth, eyes scrunched closed at the sinful pleasure.
“Fucking freaks.” Toji spits out, eyeing Satoru’s fingers inching closer and closer to your ass, deftly prodding at your quivering entrance. Yet, his movements only grow more urgent, fucking his fist in desperate need to cum - to cum all over you once more.
Satoru pulls away, and you shiver at the cold feeling of his saliva hitting your rim. Once. Twice. Thrice just to watch the way your hole quivers so obscenely for him. 
In the haze of the pure want of the three men around you, it slowly dawns on you that they won’t stop until they’ve fucked you half to death. And you cunt clenches in anticipation. 
Maybe you really were a little slut. 
Suguru only has his flushed tip kissing your folds, but you already feel so fucking full. Maybe it was the way Satoru was now bullying long, pale fingers through that first, tight little circle of muscle. Scissoring you open, hooking a thumb to stretch your slutty hole till he was more than satisfied. 
Through the corner of your eye, you watch Toji. Eyes half-lidded, gaze locked with yours, and looming closer towards you. 
Before you knew it, a rough hand grasps yours, wrapping so daintily around Toji’s fat, leaking tip. Guiding your hand, thumbing his slit to pull his dick in harsh, mindless pulls to get off. It has your sensitive cunt so heated and dripping, slick trailing down your shaky legs. 
“Suguru, think our little sweetheart is ready? Don’t think I can hold back any longer, all her pretty holes are begging me to fuck her.”
You weren’t going to make it out alive. Maybe you didn’t want to.
He doesn’t wait for a response. Your surprised yelps are gagged on Suguru’s fingers as Satoru sheaths himself in your ready hole. A low groan ripping from his throat as you clamp down on him, struggling to bear with the delicious stretch. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, despite the panic setting in, as he pushes deeper and deeper. Inch by inch. “Fuck s’tight. So tight, princess.”
Was he even halfway in? He had to be, right?
Arm now burning with the feeling of Toji fucking his throbbing erection into your fist, you risk a glance behind you, catching a glimpse of the deliciously flushed cock pressing into you. Long, pale, so pretty - so Satoru. 
Chuckling at the dilemma on your face, Suguru hums. “Now, Satoru. That hardly seems fair. Don’t be greedy.” And at that last word, Suguru’s leaking tip pushes past your entrance - thick , with a long vein running down the middle, cold metal of his piercing making your walls twitch - grunting at the resistance that came with being so fucking full from both ends. 
“Just getting to fucking her already. Look at the pretty doll, so eager to please. She’s begging for it.” you moan at Toji’s impatient comment, his precum coating your hand a pretty gloss. You’re fucking yourself in mindless, shallow, bounces that have you split open on both throbbing cocks. 
Satoru’s hand snaking down to wildly draw circles on your clit, jolting at the overstimulation, whine deliriously as both Satoru and Suguru bottom out inside of you. 
Deep moans bouncing off the walls - tight, so tight. You were going to make them pass out. Or worse, cum before you.
“S’alright hah- Fuck!” Suguru can barely get the words out, you’ve never seen Suguru - all grace and poise - lose his composure like this. A slave to desire. And if Suguru was losing control then Satoru was on the edge of absolute insanity, darkened eyes blown-out and short, broken whines leaving his mouth at each breath.
You, on the other hand, have never felt more awake. 
“Oh- oh fuck. Can’t- Too much. Hngh-” Raspy moans ripping from your throat at each little movement, hips moving in a mindless tandem with your best friends’ as they start thrusting in slow, experimental thrusts. 
You felt so unforgivingly full - organs secondary to the cocks splitting you apart till you could barely form sentences.
Filthy. Fucking filthy. 
And the only place you wanted to be right now.
Pulse banging against your throat, sight spotty, you don’t even know if what you’re feeling is pain or pleasure. Head only full of Satoru and Suguru and Toji and Satoru and-
“Awww, look at her- hah- Cock-drunk little whore can’t even speak.”
Bruised tits bouncing as Suguru and Satoru move in sync, fucked-out, animalistic ramming of their cocks into your stretched out little pussy. Delicate tears stream down your face. Your pace on Toji’s twitching dick now jerky, desperate movements to keep your sanity. “Jus’ like that, doll. Yeah-” 
You could feel the burning stretch as their throbbing cocks rubbed against each other through your walls. Balls smacking against your stinging skin and their prominent veins massaging your snug cunt just right. The slapping of skin and Toji’s squelching have your head spinning.
A wolfish bite on your exposed neck - Satoru - as he tried to keep himself together. Arching you deeper into him, thrusts stemming from a carnal, depraved part of him. Faster.
“Oh. So good, princess. Hole sucking me in so good. Ah- fuck. Could do this for the rest of my life.”
“Nasty girl. You love this, don’t you?” Suguru purrs, amusement evident in his tone.
“Y-yes! Love it! Love it Sugu- Toru-” 
With a harsh slap to your clit, both men speed up their pace in your sloppy holes. Relishing in the precum and slick dripping down their sensitive lengths, and the creamy rings forming around their bases.
More. More. More more more more-
This orgasm is more obscene than the last. Supported by Suguru and Satoru’s strong arms, spread open and stuffed so shamefully by their throbbing erections. Your head is thrown back, voice-shot as broken moans leave your swollen lips. Fist moving in a mindless rhythm - no reason or rhyme.
“F-fuck, darling. Gonna-”
All it takes are your half-lucid, fucked out mewls, walls wrestling with the effort to clench around them, for Suguru and Satoru to slam into you purposefully. Once. Twice. Before spilling into you in unison. 
“Hngh- M’cumming. Oh, god m’cumming, princess. Ah! Milking me so good.”
Thick, hot ropes of cum that fill your snug holes. You could feel your stomach inflating, enough to make you feel like you’ll explode.
Cock-drunk, you’re dead weight in their arms as Suguru and Satoru moan in relief, riding out their highs. Endless spurts of their seed splashing into you. It dribbles out of your overfilled cunt and ass, soiling the wet bed sheets beneath you.
Soaked in their cum, barely conscious, body aching all over. Ah, this was heaven. 
“Switch. Wanna cum in her pretty hole.” 
You jolt as Satoru snarks under his breath, pulling out his still-hard head with a lewd pop! A wave of his hot cum gushing out of your abused hole, pooling so sinfully beneath you.
Your knees buckle, brain not catching up yet. Too fucked out, your ready ass barely resists as Toji presses his rock-hard tip inside, pulsing with need. 
“Yeah, that’s right. Take it.” Grunting lowly, veins popping out as his thick cum spurts uncontrollably from his twitching cock. Once. Twice. Thrice. Missing your hole slightly, splattering on your ass. Pushing his leaking head inside in desperate, shallow thrusts. He just needed it inside you.
Slowing to a stop, “Now, what do you say?”
“Th-thank you, daddy.” 
Vision blacking, you barely even register the words. It’s all that is muttered out before Toji pulls out in one, fluid motion and you’re thrown around like a ragdoll. Suguru’s hand firmly pinning yours behind your back, glistening cock still in you, legs spread sinfully open.
He licks a long stripe down your cheek, your tears salty on his tongue. “Don’t think the initiation’s done yet, darling.”
Cum leaking helplessly out of you, Satoru’s hungry gaze - blue eyes barely recognizable - meets yours. “Oh, fuck. Just look at you princess. So defiled. Makes me wanna eat out all the cum inside you before pumping you full of mine again.”
“Don’t cream yourself just yet, Satoru. I think we’re about to have another initiation coordinator.”
What?
Sure enough, distant footsteps steadily approach. Growing louder with each passing second, thick with anticipation. 
Closer. And closer.
The door is suddenly thrown open, light filtering in through the door, illuminating the stern figure standing in the doorway. 
Nanami Kento.
The frat treasurer, infamous as the devastatingly handsome impersonation of a stick up one’s ass, known for rejecting any and every advance left and right. 
His sharp gaze sweeps the charged room, dark eyes revealing nothing, catching on your teary, fucked out gaze, miles away. Body covered in cum and spit, marked like you were thrown to the wolves. Satoru grits his teeth with an impatient huff, looking like he’s ready to positively devour you, irritated at the interruption. 
“What are you doing? This is an embarrassment to Jujutsu Phi.”
In the twinge of disappointment, you can’t help but feel a brief glimmer of hope. Ah, Nanami Kento. Maybe he will be your savior - a temporary respite from the men who seem ready to eat you alive. And won’t stop till you’re not.  
“If you’re going to initiate her then show no mercy.”
The door slams behind him as he steps inside the heated hellhole. A cold shiver runs down your spine. Satoru’s burning whisper in your ear.
“Welcome to the brotherhood, sweetheart.”
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A/N. Whew this turned out longer than expected. Tried a new formatting thing, how we liking it??
Plagiarism not authorized.
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lovelovex · 1 year
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x
#i don’t have words tbh but i’ll try#i’ll try not to sound as dramatic as i actually want to but the thing you probably already understand ab our circle is that our core values#are loyalty and trust#so last night was just a huge thank you to everyone who have not once in all these years betrayed those values#nothing ‘just’ ab it ik ik but i want to be serious for a moment bc a lot of things have monumentally shifted inside the group#the changes we’d been forced to adjust to have been cruel and to me personally the heartbreak seemed unbearable#the betrayal and the doubts almost cost me everything and everyone i care ab the most and i never talked ab the confrontations inside#the circle but just trust me on this one it almost broke us all up#i wanna say it was a miracle but there’s nothing miraculous ab friendships that have been tested by fire surviving another test of fate#it’s a collective conscious effort to still stay and trust each other and rmbr everyone who never made us doubt them#hence the personal invitations and the intimate location that holds too many memories for all of us#D said smth ab the circle slowly shrinking but idk if eventually there would be like seven ppl showing up#those ppl would be the chosen family we find comfort in and thank you all so much for never leaving#you all are the reason things are Better now even tho no one thought we’d come to this a year ago#idk how to express my gratitude in words bc as always they all seem to fall flat#so i hope the songs we performed last night and the fact that i just silently (and creepily) stared at you and cried might have given you#the idea of how much i love love love every second we share together#it’s the biggest privilege in the world to me to have so many ppl i can say i love you to and to hear it back always Always it just means#everything to me#it’s annoying the hell out of me that i still can’t break the habit of disappearing sometimes but knowing i have you patiently waiting#for me to come back to myself is enough to stay sane and grounded#this is all over the place and i keep switching back and forth from ‘we’ to ‘me’ to ‘us’ and i’m sorry ab that it’s still hard to get down#from yesterday’s high and form coherent sentences#you’re everything we could’ve wished for and more and i hope we made you see it#to everyone on our side – we love you beyond words 🤍#thank you for loving and accepting a bunch of dramatic emotionally unstable theatre kids who just love to be idiots onstage and make the ppl#who make them happy – happier#love love x
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wife-of-all-dilfs · 5 months
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Hii! I love love love all of your finnick fics! Could I please request a fic where reader is also a victor from an earlier game and she is in an established relationship with Finnick. They both get reaped (not the same district) for the 75th games and reader gets critically hurt in the part where the cornucopia spins. Like she falls into the water after maybe being injured and she can’t swim, so Finnick has to risk everything to save her life.
I’m really looking for like a hurt/comfort with a seriously injured reader and Finnick going through hell to save her because he cannot imagine a life without her in it.
Thank you so much if you’re willing to write this or something like it, feel free of course to change anything to your liking!
two souls, one heart | f. odair
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summary: finnick refuses to lose the love of his life. your inability to swim complicates things, especially when the cornucopia begins spinning.
pairing: finnick odair x fem!reader
warnings: pre-established relationship, heavy angst, drowning, death, bone fracture
notes: thank you so much!!! i really enjoyed writing this, shed a few tears but still enjoyed it lmao. listen to 'beginning of the end movement v' by the newton brothers on repeat for the full experience <3
A quiet nursery rhyme was being sung by the water's edge.
The calm waves around the Cornucopia lapped at the rocks, the blistering sun causing the surface to sparkle. Wiress' voice interrupted Peeta as he mapped out the arena's clock-like wedges in the dirt. Everyone was focused on the map; you should have been too.
Dark blue ripples had your eyes captivated. So tranquil. So hauntingly beautiful. Loving the sea was in your blood, as your District Four was your home. You would think coming from a fishing district would mean your swimming abilities were mastered. In reality, they were practically non-existent. No matter how many times Finnick had attempted to give you lessons, they never stuck.
Neither of you seemed to care though, always too enraptured by simply being in each other's company—feeling Finnick's hands support your body as you floated on the surface...
"Don't you let go of me, Finnick Odair, or I swear to god I'll drown you."
"Will that be before or after you drown first?" he chuckled, though ultimately tightening his grip on your body in an attempt to reassure you.
....hysterically laughing when he got wiped out by a sudden wave...
"No way! I can't—" You broke into a fit of laughter— "I can't believe that just happened!"
"Are you laughing at me, sweetheart?" Finnick asked, trudging through the water towards you, his hair drenched and swept across his forehead.
"Yes!"
You doubled over, knees buckling as you struggled to contain your laughter. Despite trying to put up a serious front, Finnick too let a few chuckles slip at the hysterical sight of you.
"Oh really?"
Just like that, his arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you down into the cold water, earning him a squeal just before you crashed together below the surface.
...and washing up on the sandy shore in each other's arms, salty lips capturing one another.
"I'm covered in sand," you murmured against Finnick's lips.
He gave you another kiss before pulling away. "It's okay," he said, pecking your lips again. "I'll help you wash off in the shower when we get back." And then sent you a stomach-flipping grin.
Even though you wouldn't trade those memories for the world, if you had known your life would soon depend on the ability to swim, you would have paid much more attention to the lessons.
Finnick stood closely beside you, his trident digging into the dirt as he gripped it tightly in case of an attack. He had noticed your drifted attention, observing the way your eyes stared at the rippling water, like death was lurking just beneath the surface waiting to drag you down to the murky depths.
He could protect you from most things in the arena, but fear was something entirely different. A trident couldn't defeat the darkness in your mind.
A hand slid onto your lower back, rubbing gentle strokes to gain your attention. Your gaze tore from the blinding blue and settled onto Finnick's face beside you, watching his mouth curve into a light smile. You knew the silent words he was trying to convey: 'You're okay, sweetheart. I've got you.'
For a fleeting moment, the anxiety had disappeared. How could anything ever go wrong with Finnick by your side? The corners of your mouth quirked, preparing to send him a smile in response. But it never came. Something new had caught your attention. The woman by the water was no longer singing.
Wiress had been murdered.
The second Katniss let her arrow fly into Gloss' chest, everything around you seemed to explode into action. Anything that could go wrong would go wrong—Murphy's Law. And it did.
The Careers had initiated an attack.
Charging forward from the waterside was Cashmere, determined to avenge her brother's death. Instinct quickly kicked in and the spear in your hand was sent barrelling through the air and into her chest. As you watched her body slump to the ground, an enraged yell came from the side.
Finnick was fighting Brutus.
With your only weapon lodged within Cashmere's chest, aiding Finnick was impossible. Enobaria revealed herself beside Brutus, displaying her vicious fangs and throwing a dagger that sliced a small cut across Finnick's shoulder. Though the wound was minor, your heart lurched as he cried out in pain.
Before a single thought in your brain could form, your legs were moving. Not towards Finnick, but after Enobaria. Remember who the real enemy is—screw that. Finnick could have died. Your Finnick. He called out your name, his voice hoarse and frayed, but you continued on, hatred fuelling each step. It seemed Katniss and Johanna had the same idea, following behind you with their weapons bared.
Salt water sprayed onto your face, but you paid it no attention. Nor did you notice as the jungle surrounding the island began to blur into one overwhelming hue of green. Only when your body was thrown to the harsh rocky terrain did you realise what was happening.
The Cornucopia had started to spin.
Nothing could compare to the terror you felt as gravity's merciless force dragged your body toward the violent waves surging against the rocks. Just as your lower legs breached the edge, a hand grabbed onto your own. Katniss. She too was hanging onto Johanna whose only lifeline was an axe buried in the rocks.
A moment—that was all you were given to scan your surroundings. Supplies and sharp-edged weapons were flying everywhere. White water was spraying into the air. Finnick, who was thirty feet away, was gripping onto a rock ledge whilst keeping Beetee from sliding into the furious waves. His head turned to the side and even from a great distance, your eyes met.
It was at that moment you knew, you just knew the odds weren't going to be in your favour. God forbid you lived a simple happy life with the man you loved, days spent together on a calm beach. God forbid the Gamemakers gave you one last chance to be in his arms. God forbid you survived.
And with that sudden realisation, the universe, sick as it was, decided it was time.
Your hand began slipping from Katniss's; an unseen tear fell from your eye, and you smiled. A smile of goodbye sent to the love of your life. His face contorted into one of agony, lips moving but you couldn't hear his voice over the roaring waves. Still, you knew exactly what he was shouting.
"NO! NO!"
There was nothing he could do but watch your body disappear into the waves, repeating over and over "no, no, no," and praying his cruel eyes had deceived him. They hadn't.
Dark blue was in every direction you looked. The undertow tossed and rolled your body like a ragdoll in a washing machine and despite your attempts to swim, the surface only seemed to be slipping further and further out of your reach. Darkness engulfed you, so thick that you couldn't tell which way was up or down. That was when the panic set in.
Your arms and legs thrashed frantically, struggling against the water's force, desperate to reach safety or an air pocket. Cold water flooded your throat as you gasped uncontrollably. You screamed as every attempt at breathing felt like fire burning in your lungs. Finnick. Where was he? Where were you? What was happening? Why wouldn't it stop?
Thoughts submerged your mind in terror, and you were powerless to stop them. All you could do was feel. Pain. Fire. Burning
At some point, the Cornucopia had ceased its spinning and your body came to a rest in the water. An eerie calm suddenly washed over you; a sense of clarity stilled your wild movements. This was the end. There was no future. No hope. The world above wasn't yours to call home anymore. You now belonged to the sea.
Of course, your water-logged mind had forgotten that home was where the heart was, and your heart was still beating... above the surface, in the aching chest of another.
Tendrils of hair floated around your face like fronds of seaweed. Rays of sunlight penetrated the surface, turning the surroundings a vibrant sparkly blue. As you sank further down, the water, now a comfortable lukewarm, cradled you in its embrace. It felt safe, like being in Finnick's arms again. Like home.
You gazed at the sun's rays; they looked beautiful. You felt beautiful. But time was running out and the bright light soon began shrouding your entire vision, though not before you witnessed a dark figure dive beneath the waves.
**********
Finnick loved the ocean. He spent most days in District Four down by the beach, swimming, spearfishing, and watching the sun rise and set on the blue horizon. If he believed in reincarnation, he would have imagined himself to be a lionfish or dolphin in his past life, living in an underwater world, free from tyranny and oppression. He loved the ocean.
But that love was incomparable to what he felt for you. So, when he dove into the rocky waters to save you and felt the currents fighting against him, he determined there was nothing he hated more than the ocean. Not as he watched its strong grip drag your motionless body further down below him.
Your back had just touched the soft seabed when he swam far enough down to envelope you in his embrace. He should have swum you back to the surface immediately, but in his distressed state, he couldn't help but foolishly stare at your lifeless appearance. Your skin was blue. It's just the water's colour, he told himself. Your eyes were closed. She's just asleep. Your neck didn't pulse under his touch. She's... She's...
He had no justification for that. Feet planted firmly on the sandy floor, he propelled both himself and you back up to the surface. As Finnick paddled back to the Cornucopia, the others reached down and helped lift your limp body onto the rocks.
"Is she...?"
"Peeta," Katniss quietly reprimanded him.
Finnick paid them no attention. He said nothing but trauma screamed in his eyes. His breathing was ragged and his hands were trembling as he frantically checked your pulse again—in both your wrists and your neck; he even pressed his ear to your chest. All he heard was the waves lapping against the rocks.
"No," he whispered again.
It seemed to be all he could say anymore. No. No, this couldn't be happening. You were just standing beside him a few minutes ago; your eyes were just looking into his. However much he tried to deny reality, it didn't seem to make it any less true. You were gone.
He choked out a rough determined breath, interlocked his hands over your chest, and began pressing repeatedly over your heart. Wet strands of tangled hair were strewn across the rocks like dead seaweed. The usual soft pink accompanying your cheeks was nowhere to be seen, devoid of any life.
"Come on, sweetheart," he muttered before pulling down your chin to blow air into your lungs. The kiss of life. And when nothing happened as he pulled away, he restarted the chest compressions. "Oh, don't do this to me," he begged, voice breaking. "Don't do this. Breathe."
Any moment now. Any moment, your eyes would flutter open, the colour would return to your glowing skin, and your heart would beat with life beneath his hands. Your lips would whisper his name and he would pull you into his arms, where he would keep you safe until the end of time.
"Breathe."
Thirty compressions. Two breaths. Nothing. He did it again. Thirty compressions. Two breaths. Silence. Maybe he should've just ripped his heart out and replaced yours with his own. Death would come for him within seconds but hearing something beating inside your chest would've made the sacrifice worth it.
Life would flash before his eyes and your beaming smile would be the last thing he'd get to see. His last thought would be of relief that you were alive.
Johanna rested a tentative hand on Finnick's shoulder. "Finnick, she's—"
"No, she's not!" he exclaimed, continuing his movements. "She's fine. Aren't you, baby? You're fine." He cupped your jaw, his thumb stroking your soft skin before he pressed his lips to yours and blew twice. "You're fine."
The golden bangle around his wrist glimmered in the sunshine as he pressed on your ribcage. All he had to do was keep you alive until Plutarch rescued everyone. One simple task and he failed.
"Finnick, we have to go," someone said. Who? He didn't know nor care.
Leave me, he wanted to say. Leave me here to die. Let the Careers mutilate my body, take my life, my last breath, but let it be by her side.
Something cracked beneath his palms and he knew one of your ribs had fractured. His arms stilled, half-expecting you to cry out in pain but then he remembered. And with that sickening crack came a devastating realisation—you really were gone.
A sob erupted from his throat and his head fell to your chest, drenching your already-soaked wetsuit with hot tears. Everything else seemed to disappear. The arena, the Careers who could attack again at any moment, the spectators who were avidly watching. Everything.
It was just him and you. He didn't care that his screams and deafening sobs could bring unwanted attention or jeopardise the group's safety. Any tribute with half a mind would know crossing him in such a state would be a fatal flaw. Even if they did, it wouldn't matter. Nothing mattered. Life no longer had meaning.
Finnick pulled your lifeless body onto his lap and cradled you protectively in his arms, lightly rocking back and forth. His forehead rested against your own, cold and damp. You always were the cold one, needing his touch to light a fire beneath your skin. He loved having you rely on him for warmth, but not like this.
"Come back to me, baby, please," he begged almost inaudibly. Tears were running down his cheeks as he brushed pieces of hair away from your face. His lips were on yours once more, heartbroken and painfully delicate; not to fill your lungs with air, but to fill your heart with his love in the hopes it would be enough to bring it back to life. "Don't leave me."
Pleas, prayers, begs, and wishes flew past his lips, over and over. And then they stopped and Finnick simply stared. Silence fell across the entire arena. The birds didn't chirp, the other tributes remained quiet, and the trees stood still. Even the water had calmed, resembling a perfectly flat mirror.
Finnick only had three words left on his tongue. Three final words to give you, wherever it was that you were. He slowly leaned down, squeezed his stinging eyes shut, and pressed a long farewell kiss to your forehead. His eyes remained closed as he parted from your skin, unable to take another look as he whispered his final goodbye.
"I love you."
And then, for the first time since he had rescued you from the blue depths, he felt his heart beating again. Just like yours was.
**********
There was a voice, distant yet reassuring—a lifeline to consciousness. Black was all there was. Coldness was all that was felt. It was desolate. But that voice... that voice was so anguished yet so familiar and encouraging that it lit a fire inside your chest, warming you from the inside out.
In the distance of the dark void was a figure, their body made entirely out of a pulsating golden light. Each word the voice spoke enhanced the light's brightness. "Come... me, please..." Brighter. "Don't leave..." And brighter.
The light was warm and comforting, just like the voice attached to it. Whoever's voice it was that brought the light resonated deep in your mind, tugging at the strings within your heart.
Your heart.
The thumping in your chest was weak, almost non-existent, but it was still there. Though it seemed time was running out. Pitch-black darkness outweighed the golden light ten-to-one; you could feel its cold breath creeping onto your back. So, you started running towards the figure. Sprinting. Until all that surrounded you was golden.
"I love you."
Water. At first, it came trickling out in two fluid streams from the sides of your mouth. Then suddenly, it was spraying into the air as choked coughs forced the liquid from your burning lungs. Light flooded your vision—not golden and inviting, but vivid and overwhelming.
There was something warm beneath your legs, against your arm, rubbing at your back, holding you in an upright position. While you heaved, dry-retched, and gasped, that soothing warmth remained.
As your airways began to clear and the expulsion of water ceased, your half-lidded eyes rolled around the area. Still dazed and disoriented, you struggled to make out what surrounded you. There was immense rippling blue, vibrant hues of green in the distance, dark rough grey beneath you, and elongated blobs of colour that stood a few feet away.
"Just–just keep breathing, sweetheart." That voice. The one belonging to the figure of light that brought you back. It was madly repeating the same words over and over. "You're okay", "Deep breaths", and "You're alive."
Shaky fingers brushed the stray wet strands of hair from your face. So warm. With the little energy you had, your head turned to seek out the golden light again. And you found it.
The blinding sun shining down reflected off his bronze hair, turning it a divine golden hue. His brows were raised and scrunched together as though he couldn't possibly believe what he was seeing. Deep lines were etched into his tear-streaked skin, evidence of his previous turmoil. Those sea-green eyes stared at you, afraid that if he so much as blinked, you would fall lifeless in his arms once more.
"You're here," he whispered.
Finnick. YourFinnick. Your light.
When your eyes met, a splitting grin lit up his face, made up of an inconceivable amount of raw emotion. You weren't sure what to do—smile, laugh, cry, kiss him? Your mind was scrambled, overwhelmed with love for the beautiful golden-haired man in front of you.
Without warning, your face scrunched up and the tears began flowing. You weren't sure why you were crying. Maybe it was because you had just been brought back from the brink of death; maybe it was because you couldn't believe someone actually cared so deeply about you.
Finnick cradled your face in his hand. "It's okay," his voice trembled, tears now cascading down his cheeks. His smile, however, never disappeared. "You're okay. You're safe now. I'm not letting you go."
He took your face into two large hands, brought you to his lips, and pressed a tender kiss to each tear that rolled over your skin. One of your hands rested over his; the other was placed against his chest, feeling it rise and fall so you could synchronise your breaths.
His arms moved to pull you tightly against him, almost like he was trying to merge your body with his. Or perhaps, it was your soul. You didn't care about the pain aching in one of your ribs. You wanted to tell him that his soul was already intertwined with your own, but words couldn't describe the sentiment as profoundly as you felt it.
In the simplest of terms your water-logged brain could muster, you whispered, "You're my light, Finnick."
Brows scrunched together, he looked down at you, fighting back the urge to start sobbing in your arms. If he had been anywhere else, if there wasn't an entire country watching, he would've gone on for hours, explaining how stupidly, selfishly, and incredibly in love with you he was.
But he couldn't do that. Not now. So, he placed his hand over the one you had resting on his chest and readjusted its position. He could feel the thumping, even through your palm.
Your eyes were full of emotion as you stared up into his. You already knew what his next words were going to be and for the first time since you were thrown into the water from the Cornucopia, you smiled.
Rhythmically, your hand and his pulsed together. Finnick's gaze flickered across your face and he grinned. "You're my heart."
2K notes · View notes
buckyalpine · 11 days
Text
Imagine the fluff of Bucky retiring from the avengers because he met you, the sweetest thing on the planet, the woman he's down on one knee for ready to marry in a heart beat. He's built a house from the ground up, a quite place for your little growing family because not long after the wedding, he has a baby boy on the way. It’s all perfect.
The absolute angst of him losing you when complications arise during the delivery and the doctors and nurses chase him out, not giving him a chance to hold you and comfort you. The last thing he sees is your labored breaths and dropping pulse.
He hears the cries of his son moments later but his happiness is short lived when the med bay is forced into an emergency evacuation because of an attack on the compound. He sees a blur of doctors rushing you to a different wing and in the midst of the chaos, his new born baby is placed into his arms. He pleads to be able to go with you but he's dragged out with no answers with the building crumbling and bursting into fire and flames behind him moments later.
He's inconsolable.
Completely distraught.
The memorial service held for you leaves Bucky in shambles, clinging onto the tiny bundle wrapped up in his arms, the only thing he has left to live for now. He doesn't want to go on without you, it's just him and his little boy in the world. He know he has to be strong for his son so he carries on as best as he can. His heart hurts when his baby boy asks for his mama.
He visits your grave often but he never truly feels peace.
There was never even a body for him to bury.
Bucky comes out of retirement when Tony calls him about a mission. He knows its serious because they wouldn't ask him to come for just anything. He doesn't want to fight again but he does it for his son; the world has to be safe for his baby.
"Daddy will be just fine" Bucky reassures his now 5 year old, pressing a kiss to his head, leaving him to stay with Sarah while he's away. When he's back at the compound, he's given a briefing on what they're up against. They leave the next morning.
-
"I've got them in the west wing, headed towards you Steve" Bucky may have been out of the field for a couple of years but his skills and training still run in his blood. He trails behind the target, gun in hand, catching a knife that's thrown his way before dodging another. He gets them cornered in an abandoned ware house, ready to end it all, justice be damned, he just wanted to get back home to his baby boy. He's about to pull the trigger but that's when he sees it.
The red skull with tentacles surrounding it.
He freezes.
He blocks a punch that comes his way, grabbing their wrist and holding them in place, shoving them against the wall. All he can see are their eyes.
Bucky knows those eyes.
No.
He rips the mask off and nearly sobs, his hands trembling as he continues to hold them with all his strength knowing it was hurting them but what choice did he have.
"Doll?"
Just a thought, okay love you, bye.
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moonstruckme · 1 month
Note
hi! i've been stalking your page for literal hours and i love how you write poly marauders so much!! could you write how they would react to the reader coming home from a night out with a black eye or something like that?? <33333
Thank you lovely! And thanks for being so patient while I took literal months to get to this request haha, love you! <3
cw: reader is drunk and has a black eye
poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.2k words
“Hey, gorgeous,” Sirius says as you come in the door. Remus shushes him, and he lowers his voice. “How’re the girls?” 
“Good,” you reply, cautiously quiet as you kick off your shoes. 
Rounding the couch, you see James asleep on Remus’ shoulder, a small puddle of drool soaking into the material of the taller boy’s pajama shirt. They’re all in pajamas, actually. Envy strikes you through the heart. They look so unbearably cozy, better than you in your scratchy jeans and too-tight top. 
“I hope you didn’t wait up,” you say as Remus flips his book closed, and Sirius chuckles. You’ll learn later that you’d been slurring your words. 
“We don’t mind,” Remus confirms your suspicions. “You didn’t walk home by yourself, did you?” 
You shake your head, flopping into the spot beside James on the couch. Only you hadn’t quite thought that through, and Remus tuts as he starts to rouse. 
“Sorry,” you whisper. “Um, the girls dropped me off out front.” 
Sirius nods his approval. James hums as he picks his head up off Remus’ shoulder, spotting you. 
“Hey, lovie.” He transfers his affections to you, wrapping his arms around your neck and letting himself weigh heavily against your front. You giggle, your favorite monkey. “Did you just get home?” 
“Uh-huh. Oh, Jamie!” You gasp as a memory makes its way out of the fog of your brain. “I saw something you would have loved.” 
“What’s that?” he asks. 
“We came across a dog park, and I didn’t even know those could be open at night but—” 
“No, angel.” He’s stopped hugging you, an unpleasant development, one of his hands leaving your neck to hold your cheek. “What’s that on your face?” 
“Hm?” You don’t remember anything getting on your face. “I dunno. Jamie, I’m trying to tell you about the puppies.” 
“Just hold on, darling, sorry. Is that a bruise?” 
“What?” Sirius is in front of you before you know what’s happened. Vampire-fast, you think fascinatedly, wondering if he’d have been a streak across your vision had you bothered to look. Though, to be fair, your vision is generally streaky at the moment. He takes your chin in his hand, tilting it up and to the side. “Remus, point your light here.” 
There’s a low creaking as Remus adjusts his reading lamp, and then you’re squeezing your eyes shut. 
“Jesus, what the hell?” 
Remus curses softly, and you squint to see him leaning closer to you. Your boyfriends’ faces crowd your vision like a three-headed monster. 
“Baby,” Sirius says, sounding heartbroken, “what happened?” 
“I don’t—can you move the light away?” 
More creaking, and you can see again. You blink, eyes watery, and Sirius lays a painstakingly gentle thumb over the skin beneath your eye. 
“It must be bad if it’s already bruising,” he says. 
Remus stands. “Then we should put ice on it.” 
You pout as he disappears into the kitchen, but Sirius recaptures your attention by turning your face toward his. 
“I need you to think.” He fixes his stare on yours gravely. His eyes are the color of the moon reflecting off water. You try to tell him so, but his frown doesn’t abate. “Listen,” he says, “what happened to hurt your eye? You have to remember.” 
You purse your lips, shaking your head at him. “I feel like I’d know if something happened,” you say self-assuredly. “It’s probably just makeup. Can you get me a wipe?” 
“Angel.” James’ eyebrows have hooked upwards in the middle. He’s looking uncharacteristically serious, too. Your boyfriends are really not being a ton of fun tonight, you think. “It’s all red and purple. You can’t tell me that doesn’t hurt, babydoll.” 
You shrug. That may be so. But if it doesn’t hurt, who really cares? 
Sirius gets up just as Remus comes back with what looks like a balled-up dish towel. He passes it to you with a tender look on his face. 
“Put this on your eye, honey,” he says. Then, “Sirius, love, where are you going?” 
“To call Evans.” 
You touch the cloth to your eye, but it’s freezing cold, and you opt to let it rest in your lap instead.
“She won’t even be home yet,” Remus argues. “And what do you think you’ll accomplish if you do get ahold of her? She can’t tell us anything now that she won’t still know in the morning.” 
“What if somebody did this to her? If Evans saw, I want to know about it tonight.” 
“Don’t you think,” James says, “that if someone hit her, the girls would’ve come in and told us?” You lean against his side, and he wraps an arm around you automatically, rubbing your shoulder. He smells like strawberries and laundry detergent and something ineffably homey. “They wouldn’t have just dropped her off out front.” 
“What if no one saw?” 
“Then what do you think calling will do, love?” 
“I just…I feel like I have to do something. Don’t you?” 
You lean your head on James’ shoulder and snuggle into the familiar sounds of your boyfriends’ voices, overlapping and intermingling. You don’t realize they’ve gone quiet until Remus’ hand wraps around yours, and you open your eyes. 
“You’ve got to actually hold this on your eye,” he chides lovingly, taking the dish towel from you and pressing it to your face. 
The edge of something hard beneath the cloth digs into a tender spot beneath your eye, and you flinch. “Ow.” 
Remus’ forehead creases sympathetically. “Sorry.” 
But the pain brings another memory out of the fog. You pick your head up as you feel your good eye widen in realization, meeting Sirius’. 
He flicks up an eyebrow. “What’re you smiling about?” 
“I remember what happened,” you admit, a touch of embarrassment to your tone. And if you hadn’t had everyone’s attention before, you do now. 
“What was it?” James rubs your shoulder reassuringly. “You can tell us.” 
“It’s…when we were at the dog park, I got distracted.” 
Remus’ eyes narrow. “Go on.” 
You rub your lips together self-consciously. “I may have walked into a sign. About poop bags.” 
James leans away from you to see you better. “Like, a metal sign?” 
You nod, and he winces. 
“Ouch, lovie.” 
“Fucking hell.” Sirius covers his face with both hands, loosing a big breath through the cracks in his palms. Remus reaches back to pats his leg consolingly. “I was ready to go after whoever did that with a tire iron.” 
You shrink into the couch cushions. “Sorry.” 
“You could still take a tire iron to the sign, I suppose,” James says. 
Sirius ignores him, crouching in front of you and taking your face in both hands. Remus lets the cloth drop rather than maneuver around him. “Don’t ever scare me like that again, understand?” 
“Yeah,” James agrees, “if you injure yourself in the future, ask for a pen and make a note on your arm or something. Save us the worry.” 
You lean forward, pressing a lingering, heartfelt kiss to Sirius’ cheek. 
“Thanks for worrying,” you say, and where your lips touched him the skin glows pink. 
“You’re taking years of my life, you know,” he says quietly. 
Remus chuckles. “Don’t worry. It looks good on you.” 
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guacamoleroll · 2 months
Text
𝖋𝖔𝖗𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖗 𝖎𝖓𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖙𝖜𝖎𝖓𝖊𝖉 「𝔩𝔲𝔠𝔦𝔣𝔢𝔯」 ೀ⋆。˚
content. f!reader. discussions of separation/divorce, friends to lovers, (name) is a fallen angel, sexual harassment, insecurities, discussions of mental health, spoilers for hazbin hotel season finale, implied/referenced not-safe for work. not proofread. 3.3k+ words.
author's note. i'm not sure if i'll be making a valentine's day post, but i haven't updated in a while, and i wanted to post something. so here's another hazbin hotel oneshot that's been in my drafts for a while! (sorry to all my bsd readers, i will be posting content soon!) i hope you guys enjoy ٩(^ᗜ^ )و ´-
would you like to see more? join the taglist or comment under this post!
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synopsis. two fallen ones, cut from the same cloth, destinies forever intertwined by the choices you made as young seraphim.
OR someone comes in to try and ruin your relationship with lucifer, and he isn't happy about it.
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You remembered the sensation of an eternal inferno, the mark of damnation that scorched your fingertips, submerging your divine being within a cluster of flames. Exiled from the heavens—a fate worse than death to most became an accepted element of your newfound reality. You never belonged perched atop clouds, even with the virtue nestled in the recesses of your heart. A part of you feared the unknown as you descended through novas and clouds, but it felt like a pressure had lifted from your being as those imposing gates shrunk behind you.
As the first of a cluster of falling stars, your impact landed you on the steaming ground of a new, hellish landscape, your mind scattered from the force of the fall, limbs trembling with their aching joints. And that was when you saw him, a brand-new man who held out his hand, smile desperate yet reassuring. The Morning Star himself, brought upon the same fate, still shaken from the tragedy of his descent—it had been much more personal for him.
“It’ll be okay, (Name),” his familiar voice reassured, but it was impossible not to hear the waver in his tone as your hands intertwined. “It’ll all be okay.”
And with a single touch, traversing hand-in-hand through this foreign land, you knew that someday, he would be right.
But that happened many millennia ago, a tale for storybooks rather than a memory that should’ve constantly been on a loop in your mind, held onto during the dead of lonely, bitter nights. Despite your long-standing friendship, the both of you held very separate lives—him with his family, you with your industry. You worked in tandem in relation to the public and aristocratic duties but otherwise barely spoke past the occasional smile and wave. And no, you couldn’t help the desolation that had sprouted inside your heart, the muscle aching as you observed his radiant smile from across ballrooms, the king exchanging affectionate glances at his wife while coddling his sweet daughter. But you were happy for him all the same. He deserved to be surrounded by those he loved, deserved to be happy after years of heartbreak, even if you weren’t in the picture.
But you knew that you could depend on each other, even if you hadn’t spoken in months. It was an unspoken connection between you, a rule unbroken. Which was the reason you knew his midnight call one evening had been serious. His voice was flooded with anguish, sputtering out incomprehensible words as his breath caught with every beat. You dropped everything, the paperwork and meeting planning, flying over with speed so fast that the denizens of Hell whispered for days about the shooting star that had flown across the sky that evening. 
In your journey, there was one persistent question that kept bothering you—why wasn’t his wife the one to comfort him? It wasn’t that you minded, not at all, but the entire situation struck you as odd. However, your answer became clear as you cracked open the doors to his bed chambers; the room was frozen and still as if left abandoned. However, the knocked-over furniture and smashed artifacts only made it look like it was robbed, which you highly doubted. And there in the center of the chaos was the Morning Star himself—no, Lucifer. Simply Lucifer. His body crumpled to the ground, painful hiccups leaving his lips. You slipped inside with ease and were about to grab his attention, and then you spotted it, the large lettering of a familiar type of document—a divorce agreement.
You were aware that the relationship between Lucifer and Lilith wasn’t perfect, not by any means. When they had fallen in love, there wasn’t a guideline for navigating relationships and marriage. They had to play it entirely by ear, leading to rushed decisions and a shaky foundation. You had always believed that they were each other’s perfect half, but it was only because their punishment and subsequent banishment had tied them together and forced them to suffer the same fate. At least, that was their belief for a couple of millennia. It didn’t mean that the split that was bound to happen didn’t hurt.
His cries had been hard to hear, throaty and painful, his body trembling as he mourned on the floor. It took a culmination of your mental and physical strength to unravel him, forcing him away from those papers and into an embrace, slowly steadying his breath with yours as he clung to you as if you would leave if he let go. That night set the standard for weeks of a miserable routine, with the former king reduced to sobs and silence. It was unbearable, especially as he pulled away from those who cared for him—his fellow sins, his friends, and especially his daughter. But you continued to hold on, not leaving even with his harsh utterances and occasional outbursts. You wouldn’t let him be alone, couldn’t let him be alone, moving into the broken family’s manor to care for him full-time.
And he would always be thankful for that.
His mental health was climbing uptick for years, fluctuating back and forth until he had stabilized, at least in comparison to his state before. He became fantastic at masking his depression, brushing it underneath the rug as he delved into his own creations, pushing many of his relationships even further away as he stopped leaving home. You were the one to bring him food and clean the estate—his staff had drifted to other careers over the past few years. You were the one assuring that he wasn’t left hunched over a bench in the worst posture possible, toiling away with his latest obsession, no matter the cuteness of the ducks.
In his more conscious moments, you would listen as he ranted about his issues, even though you both were aware they were a product of his self-isolation. But in those instants, whispering quietly as if the heavens still held onto your every word, hiding from its light as if the touch of it would scorch your skin, an intimacy blossomed from the depths of your former friendship. It had remained idle for centuries, underlying the foundation of every interaction and word, leaving fleeting touches and shared laughter in your blissful youths for stern support and brief softness in your demonic adulthoods—neither of you ever noticed that you saw the other through heart-shaped lenses. Two fallen ones, cut from the same cloth, destinies forever intertwined by the choices you made as young seraphim.
But that had been the norm for thousands of years.
And without knowing, you had fallen into a relationship stage humans had archaically dubbed as “courting,” traveling outside the estate for the chance to spend time with one another, exchanging personalized gifts whenever the opportunity arose, swapping words of encouragement and affection. It was only after you had kissed him on the cheek one night that you both realized your feelings, and it only spiraled on from there. There were scars from his past love—undoubtedly, you had nurtured them with care—but even despite those, you worked to establish a healthy, balanced relationship as you navigated this strange stage in your lives.
However, there was someone who had not been quite so fond of this new development. You had attended meetings with the Heaven Embassy for many years as a favor to Lucifer, his absence becoming common after his separation from Lilith, but you could still remember locking eyes with the first man as you entered the room, dropping the chicken drum in his hands as his mouth widen agape.
“Hot damn.”
His flirtatious and oftentimes self-centered advances didn’t fly past your head like you wished they would. It seemed despite having thousands of years under his belt, he was unable to learn any kind of manners, but he had been the original sexist prick. And for his status as a divine man, he fucked around a lot. You didn’t doubt that was due to his own insecurities about both of his wives preferring someone else’s dick over his.
Once you and Lucifer had started dating, you happened to make the mistake of slipping that information to Adam in the hopes that he would back off, but it only seemed to provide him a challenge as his flirtations increased tenfold. From then on, your meetings no longer consisted of the same old information surrounding the exterminations; rather, they were him pointing out the many sexual accolades that he had roped under his belt and the way that apparently made him better than Lucifer—his favorite line was always that “that snake must have a little snake.”
Your disdain was obvious, repeating over and over for him to shut his mouth, but he would only smirk, taking your response as a sign that he had struck a nerve and that it was an opportunity to dig deeper. You decided to take over all the meetings with the embassy, keeping Lucifer away from the lecherous banter of the man, no matter the discomfort that formed in your gut from his unabashed perverseness and the predatory stares at your body.
“Come onnnn, babe,” Adam whined, in the middle of biting the meat off a chicken bone.
You shot him a look. “I’m not your babe, Adam.”
“Babe.” If you were able to reach over and strangle him, you would’ve. That was probably the reason the coward used a hologram instead of coming here himself. “A guy like that couldn’t possibly please you the way I could.”
You massaged your nose bridge, pointedly ignoring the flicker of his eyes from your face to your chest, unable to maintain stable eye contact. “Can we just get on with the meeting?”
“You know I’m right, but I’ll let you off the hook for now.”
You groaned, slamming your head onto the table.
From years onward, his nerve only increased, but he had never shown his bloodlust to you before until the exorcist army descended from the heavens to wreak chaos and death upon the doorstep of Lucifer’s only child, Charlie. You and the ever-so-optimistic princess of Hell developed quite a soft spot for one another, which wasn’t difficult since you had already been considered family in centuries past. The title of your romantic relationship with her father initially came with questions and a couple of awkward moments, but it wouldn’t stop either of you from growing a deeper friendship and understanding, walking through the process together. And it definitely didn’t stop you from defending the girl you had seen for years as a pseudo-daughter, along with her noble ambitions.
“Charlie!” you yelled, knocking Adam away from her as he attempted to strangle her. Charlie sputtered, holding her throat with a pained cough, and you raised a steady hand to her back, helping her rise to her feet. You gave her a once-over, relieved to find that she had no substantial wounds besides a couple of cuts and bruises.
You sighed, cupping her rosy cheeks. “Thank goodness you’re alright. Sorry for being so late. Your father will be here any moment.”
Her formerly desolate expression quickly changed into a beaming smile, eyes glimmering with revitalized determination. “Good! We need all the help we can get.”
However, the moment was cut short by the overexaggerated breaths of a particular man, Adam wobbling to his feet as he cradled his bruised ribs, which you didn’t doubt had been cracked in the impact. It was hard not to smile as he struggled to stand, a wave of retribution twitching through your fingertips.
“You bitch,” he groaned between shallow gasps, though his voice drifted into a humorous lilt. “You know, I’m all for feisty women, but this shit’s a bit extreme, don’tcha think, babe?”
“I am not your babe, Adam.”
You cringed at the moan that left his lips, knowing it was not from the pain of his bruises. “God damn, I love it when you say my name.” He chuckled. “It’d be better if you screamed it.”
“You couldn’t have been that good if both your wives left you for someone else,” you muttered, swallowing your bodily urge to vomit as you rubbed the burgeoning headache coursing through your temples.
His expression drained of any warmth or humor, only leaving behind the rotted, sinful corpse of a man that he pretended not to be. “What the fuck did you say to me, bitch?”
“Hmmm,” you hummed, rolling your eyes. “Did I strike a nerve there?”
His mouth contorted into a snarl. “You know, the only reason that snake keeps your ass around is because he needs a couple of assets,” he barked, curving his hands to gesture toward your curves. “To distract him!”
“Hey! Don’t talk about him—”
He cut you off, his imposing figure towering over you. “You’re only a convenience. A pretty face and a hole to fuck.”
You gasped, but he didn’t let you speak, a smirk curling up on his disgusting face. “You don’t mean anything to him, hun,” he sneered, his voice sickeningly sweet as he grabbed your chin, craning your neck at a muscle-aching angle to stare into your eyes. “You had a chance at heaven, slut. A chance to be with me. And you fuckin’ blew it—!”
He didn’t have a chance to finish his sentence, a bone-crunching punch tunneling into his face, his body cast off the hotel, which rocked under the aftershock, before it started to crumble like a deck of cards. With no time to waste, you and Charlie haphazardly jumped from shrapnel piece to shrapnel piece, able to land on the ground with barely a tumble as it collapsed into your foundation. The moment would’ve been devastating if your focus hadn’t been pinpointed elsewhere, the screams of a dying man drawing everyone to the impact pit.
“You have a lot of fuckin’ nerve,” a low voice scowled, sweltering steam blocking everyone’s vision away from the pair until it evaporated into the air, and that was when you spotted him. His voice was barely recognizable. The duplicated tones and whispers surrounding each word made him unidentifiable. But you knew who it was; those familiar sets of wings and the eyes of his tailcoat were clues enough. You hadn’t seen him take this form in decades, centuries even—he had no use for it, and to go to such an extreme was unlike him. He was shaking more than ever before; his fists balled up Adam’s collar as he pinned him to the ground.
“Intruding on my fuckin’ realm. Hurting my daughter.” And with each offense, another blow was added to the first man’s face, which looked more like roadkill than a former human with each malefaction. “Harassing and insulting my future wife!”
“Don’t you mean your little whore?” Adam managed to utter, that cocky tone still persistent. 
But that was a terrible mistake.
Lucifer did not respond to his comment, not at all. Instead, he paused, finding himself unprepared for the sheer audacity of the man underneath him, a man only clinging to life through recesses of holy power and spite. To the unsuspecting bystander, it would seem the king had calmed himself down, but instead, an inferno blazed between his fingertips, his form threatening to tear with the amount of heavenly light that he balanced on his palms. The ire of his many eyes looked upon Adam, and they saw to it that his judgment day had come early.
“Die.”
“Dad!”
Luck seemed to have Adam’s back as Charlie intervened, one of the few people who could ever draw her father out of such an irate warpath. However, it was only after a moment of contemplation from Lucifer, whose eyes stared at Adam, his face unreadable as his fingers twitched before he cracked a wicked smirk.
“How’s mercy feel, bitch?”
The next moments were a blur, though those eyes had turned towards you instead, not with the anger they had towards Adam, but of sheer contemplation—not that you paid attention to them, watching Adam’s death unfold in an ironically anti-climatic sort of way. You would’ve felt bad if your mind didn’t remedy the guilt in your gut with memories of your several encounters, most of which were not PG-13. The rest of the staff and residents gathered their bearings, joining to work on rebuilding the hotel, but you did not have the strength to. Instead, you took a moment for yourself, thoughts toiling through your head as they often did, not understanding the icky, nauseous feeling pooling at the bottom of your stomach.
You flinched at the brush of a hand that rested on your shoulder, only to find that it had been Lucifer, his brow furrowed in that same contemplative expression. And much like those times alone in the estate decades prior, a patient silence persisted as he sat next to you, gauging each touch as he pulled you closer, allowing your limp body to lean into his.
“You know none of what that asshole said is true, right?”
Is that what you had been so concerned about? You couldn’t tell. Your thoughts surrounding your relationship, especially in the context of his former love, had always been indecipherable, even to yourself. His question brought a small beam of clarity into the shadowed pits of your darkest thoughts, but it wasn’t the time to talk about it. Not now, at least.
“Yeah, I know.” Your voice was more shaken than you wanted it to come out, but he understood the underlying message. He could tell it wasn’t the truth, not entirely, and that the roots of your insecurities weren’t something to be remedied through a singular conversation. But it was a start. He intertwined your fingers, caressing the bare area of your ring finger.
“I wish you would’ve told me,” he spoke, his voice soft. “I would never have let you go to those meetings.”
You stayed staring out into the distance. “It wasn’t that big of a deal.”
However, he believed differently, tilting your chin as he cupped your face, much more loving compared to the hands that had grabbed you prior. And his eyes, ones that had been filled with hatred, now glinted in sharp concern. “But it is a big deal. That’s sexual harassment.”
“You were going through so much,” you replied. “It was just one additional thing I didn’t want you to deal with. Another burden on your back.”
“(Name),” he said, voice stern.
The gruffness of his uncompromising tone drew your eyes to your hands. “Any insult to you is an insult to me. Always has been, always will be. People don’t get to talk to you like that. It doesn’t matter what shit I’m going through. That doesn’t mean you get to be thrown under the bus.” He cracked a smile. “And anyone who even thinks of treating you less than the perfection you are deserves to be roasted alive. You’re not a burden. You’re priceless.”
“You’re really into those cannibalism metaphors recently,” you quipped, a bit of your reprieve and humor returning back. He laughed, his heart falling into ease, though he recognized the nod towards his disdain for a certain radio demon, his expression contorting in disgust.
“I’m not gonna eat him! Think of how gross that thing would taste. Just awful, bleh—!”
You cut him off with a kiss, making his rosy cheeks redden more. “Thanks, Lu.”
You tried to stand. His arm braced underneath your back, a hand brushing across the sensitive skin of your waist as he hovered above, his lips locked onto yours. You sighed into his mouth as his fingers mapped every beauty mark of your face, only for him to split, panting. His eyes shone with recognizable desperation, but the smirk on his lips told you he was prepped to tease, brushing the stray baby hairs out of your face that had been ruffled in the fray.
“If someone ever bothers you like that again, you tell me. Got it?”
You only sighed. “Lucifer, I can handle my—”
He pressed a kiss to your knuckles, mouth upturned in a cheeky grin at the way it cut you off. “It’s not smart to fight without your shield, now, is it?’
You relented, unable to withhold your bashful grin. “Of course.”
A silence persisted.
“Your future wife, hm?”
“…shit.”
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ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ: @little-miss-chaoss
© ɢᴜᴀᴄᴍᴏʟᴇʀᴏʟʟ 2024 — ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ ᴏʀ ʀᴇᴘᴏꜱᴛ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ꜰᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ʀᴇᴀꜱᴏɴ. ʜᴏᴡᴇᴠᴇʀ, ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ʙᴏᴛʜ ᴡᴇʟᴄᴏᴍᴇᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ᴇɴᴄᴏᴜʀᴀɢᴇᴅ
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astralnymphh · 5 months
Text
stuff you up ౨ৎ
aestras thanksgiving smut special
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' so who's getting stuffed, you or the turkey? '
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HELP PALESTINE . DO NOT BUY TLOU2
♡. summary; fuck the festivities, who actually cares about all that sappy shit. instead, embark a newly founded festivity– fucking your girlfriend up in the dusty memory of your old bedroom~ ♡. a\n; late af as fuck but just a fun little smut, nothing too serious, a bit rushed but here y'all go ♡. CW; groping under the table, fingering (r), clit stim (r), strapping (r), horndog!ellie, dom!ellie, tipsy!ellie, risky sex (joel almost catches u), cock referred as 'her' + referred as ellies, cocktip teasing, ass grabbing, some ass smacking, some plot, jokey bickering, readers a bit bratty, a slight brat-taming moment if you squint, mouth muffling, squirting, petnames; babe, baby, babygirl, princess, good girl, (lmk if i missed anything)
♡ WC; 5.5k ♡ masterlist ♡ thanks 2 @fleshunger 4 proofreading the intro ♡
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Paired minds savor the embellishing glow of lit stick candles settled before them in a ritzy manner– shedding light over plates of arraying colors. Marination that glistens, crispness that scrapes, and mushy mesas' of garlic herb potatoes that delicately slump in the cradle of a spoon. Consume with your eyes first, then your cameras– and conclusively, your rumbling tummy. 
Rather to consume what's meant to be, than to gorb the scruffy haired girl next to you– at least for now, yes? 
It's your first Thanksgiving with Ellie, being that you two only linked heartstrings this year.
You, the possibly innocent angel that you are– right now, serve clement smiles to whomever talks to you, be it Joel or some random relative who’s name only just surfed your ears this night, it doesn't matter. De rigueur, wear it well.
A baser mind– I mimic regret while telling you this– tumbles far from the garden of Eden and slips away into a daunting realm, the underworld. By under, I mean downstairs, below the button, the internals. Ellie straight up, served hot, was just bursting with hormones. The tender meat oozing with buttery slick melt fell short in maintaining the contact of those chartreuse eyes, instead, suffering the envy of them rooted to your thighs beneath the oak. 
Noses immerse themselves in salty goodness, eyes feast before gobs could, rolling molars gnaw turkey off the tines of forks, but her, her cunts' the only organ thinking right now.
Especially while seated adjacent to you, her clit was throbbing past the hard material of her jeans.
"You both settlin' in your new apartment?" Joel's bellowed drawl carries over the other muted chatter, low in the background.
"Mhm," your hum slopes and rises behind lips sealed to a glass rim, then part with a smack, "Ellie’s definitely settled more than me." ending with a giggle.
Her ear pivots from you, dirt–dappled nose at the fore, "Oh? What's that 'spose to mean babe?"
"Can't keep your hands off that shiny new Playstation, hmm?" 
"Tchh– you bought it for me." replied her with a skosh of sass.
"That I did."
"Uh–" Joel bumbles.
Els drones out, "Andd all my video games–"
"Where's my thank you?" you pout in frolick, forwarding your face for her view.
Hmph.
Her miffy eyes bounce around her skull hence to piloting back on yours, her own pout puffing, "Okayy, here," she sighs lowly, nosing her lips down to pucker a peck– smacking together.
A shared hum in approval vibrates between the bond of skin, half–approval, a kiss was meager in your book of play, and you felt particularly playful this eve.
With a finished kiss, leaves your mouth to mouth a sneaky little quip, fruitful in a whisper, "Didn't hear a thank you~"
"Hmm?"
"Els.." 
Faces still bathing in transferring warmth, her breath hitches on your mid–face, a sigh to end all worries, "You'll see, just wait." Her voice cracks a bit, silken on your ears.
Waiting wasn't even on the table. 
Not when a brawny hand suddenly gropes your inner–thigh, squeezing the fat in little wags.
Give thanks to whomever, thank fuck for being at the tables edge, where nobody else could witness this.
"Anywho–" Ellie grogs her throat clear of those debaucheries, returning to her normal seated poise, "yeah, like, we're settled– thanks for helpin' us find that place." her pitch heightens, flowing into a nosy chuckle.
"Course, kiddo." softly spoken off Joel’s sentiments, but minding less attention and returning his mouth to something more, toothsome. Foodsome.
Goddess, her grip is mighty.
Devious fingers– they found their way, quick. Fingers such as hers, waxy and pale, rigid and calloused, stamping up your hip and giving firm pressure to the bone. Knuckles flushed of pigment, they dig around the crest wanton, nudging you slightly.
"Seriously?" you spit through grit teeth, wiggling your hips in reaction.
Ellie harks your mutter, tugging those smug corners into a cocky smile as her nervy nature would plant her in, naughty–toothed smile, "Huuh?" that bastard coos, "what's wrong babe?"
"You dickhead." 
"Me, dickhead?"
"Yes, you, dickhead."
"That's a lot of dicks n' heads, what is it with you and dicks n' heads?" she creeps her face closer, squinting dumbly– which only made her onslaught of 'heads and dicks' more peeving now that you really loured at her.
Grimacing at her dense brows queller than a storm, blushy nostrils taunting in a wiggle, it subtly made sense– impish coquetry. The kind of shit you toss like a game of ball, prior to the main event. An event, to be seen.
"Why you givin' me that look, huh?" she squints lower in return, flaring her nose, "Do I have a dick for a head?" 
"I would not kiss you if that were the case," you claim advantage of her closeness and peck her goofish scowl, forcing a crescent to spry on that mouth, "Dork."
Hooks on your hip palpate harsher on the jut, her thumb swiping where the cushion and your butt cleft. Pressure given, when words pique her interest.
"Babe," Els murmured with fry in her chords, "d'ya want it?"
"It?" you gulp.
"Mhm.." thrummed she, eluding, "c'mon, you know.." said with that chilling husk, whew.
Okay, maybe it's clearer–than–a–midsummers–noon clear, that Ellie was a tad tipsy. Pink worm of hers just couldn't resist the samplage of some bourbon, sweet oakey notes that evoke memories of bourbon skies hence, quite the beautifying thought. Skies where you play a shrouded silhouette to her line of sight, tapping thumb to chin in ponder. Ponder, pondering.. for what were you pondering those sunsets?
Yet now you lacked a ponder on whatever the hell she was hinting to, only for it to ferment suddenly.
"Ellie, what are you on–"
"My fingers," a blurt wets her whistle, cocking her head dear to your poor ear, "do you want.. my fingers– in.." you feel her dual digits dive in the crevice of your thigh and groin, curling snugly.
"Ellie.." you hiss, pinching your brows in honest bewilderment.
Her pinkie roves over the bulge of your crotch and punctures the inseam right above your clit, stinging the little bud– which throbbed at her press.
"Do you?" her breath wanes, speech sedated with the aim of persuading you.
Contemplation was considered– maybe too carefully, maybe not. Problem one, legitimately most if not all of your family was within spitting distance of you, but on the other hand, the gutsy hand, weighed her offer slacker than a greedy businessman. In precis, her puppy eyes of coveted sanction, rears triumph. Dickhead.
A caught gulp squeezes down your gullet, puffing your chest out, "Mhm.." 
"Okay.. mhh–" she giggles with husk, creasing up as her lithe fingers trace and wrest your fly open, skulking her hand beneath the hood, "Just focus on dinner baby, I got this.." wisped soft, kindred to cashmere.
The unyielding stretch of your denim fastens around your hips in the act of her palm ramming inside, yanking you forward. Pursing your lips in elated exhales, you try, try to winch meat to mouth and void the tamping of your clit, try as you might– the pleasure is dire.
Ellie’s prints depress a lewd discovery, the stub of her smaller knuckle thickens itself in leaky panty, secreting from your eager hole. A discovery, worth a hushed gasp, "Ooh? Wet already babe? God damn.."
"Shut.. up.." choked you, only reaping a laugh from her.
"Fuck, I do all this?"
"Duh."
"Hehe– fuck that's hot.."
She withdraws her fingers half–way, to slither them under your panties. And without a foraged bit of foreplay, dilates your labia with her furled digits loading inside of you.
A squishy nub brushes your sweet spot.
Your pipes in turn swell with sharp intake, wall of your throat cooling instantly. Fuck, bona fide fuck. Enormously fucked when her pumps wreak gentle squelches from your dewy core.
"Jesus, mhphh.." a gruff of air susurrus from her, starkening her torso in an 'appeasingly normal' angle so she may, blend in, bemusing your mother with small–talk, "So, d'you always have a gathering this big on Thanksgiving?"
Out of all people, really, Els? 
She indulges with a smile, purely answering, "Oh yeah, every year– whole family, too many relative I suppose." fading erratically into a giggle.
"Heh– ‘least you got a big house, shitt– I mean," In spite of sounding casual, slips into a grit curse when your wet walls clench her in, "–dang, what I wouldn't give to live here, right babe?"
A mere butt of her elbow nearly dips you into the waters of appearing– deviant of natural, those slender digits, twisting a tender knot inside. She pumps at a canter, lesser than brisk, swifter than a slug. Beat, beat, beat to your g–spot, akin to the pitter, pitter, pat of your whizzing heart.
"Y–yeah, soo jealous, even though I did as a kid.." laughing it off awkwardly, a bask of 'Please let that be the only time I talk.' relief uplifts your sunk gut, momentarily.
"You still eating well livin' on your own?" your mother queries, tuning that time–old maternal charm.
"I mean, d–decent, enough–"
Ellie thrusts her fingers faster, fashioning a trickle of ooze to froth out onto your underwear. Pacified by the sensations, you clamp tighter, knocking a winded hitch to your staggering speech. Fucking inconvenient. Olives of her eyes binge a glint so bawdy, yet inlaid in a bad case of puppy–face, bullshit purity on her glossy lips. She knew the consequences, and consumed them like nothing.
"Pshh– decent? Babe, please, I'm like the microwave master!" exclaimed she, feigning a biggety tone atop her rasp.
You scoff, "Ah–" shuffling your thighs in light see–saw motions, "again, decent."
The knot squeezes as she finger–fucks the tranquility of mind from your pussy, staring knives at you when her supple thumb drags your clit in flicks.
"Sure it's not good?"
"Mh–mh.."
"Like, really good?"
No way she was referring to the microwave meals anymore.
Your mother intrudes softly, "Honey I can start bringin' you my homemade food if it's not–"
"It's okay, she's just playin' around–" Ellie replies before a vowel can flutter your lips, proceeding to eye–fuck you with a smug visage, "she loves my cooking." she rasped, eyes slimly showing.
All you can spotlight on is her gropey hands, jerking you like some toy, it felt too fucking good. Too pleasant to snuff, too divine to scold, exhilarating to your veins sore with salaciousness. Then, you route back to a ponder, what more could she stipulate? 
"M' gonna go to the bathroom," you swat her hand out and jostle your fly up, netting a coo of amusement from Ellie– secretly.
"You good babe?" she vocalizes after, keeping her pussy–prune digits free of smear.
"Come with me." purred you, hoisting from the oaken chair.
Ellie's lids arise with tangible hots– an aphrodisia densely potent of kindiling her eyes. No anointing of sanctity will ripen her intentions, nor anchor the even throb of her cunt. For a throb is a hymn, to you. She wants you, and she's going to have you. Moments and minutes hence, falter to compare in energy.
Cue her cheek pleating smile.
"Okay–" a light snort prances off her open lips, whirling her lap aside to skim through the tight wedge and stumbling to you, "which bathroom we doin'–"
"Just follow me," your voice aspires over, cusping your hand and snagging her calloused ones in the curve of it, "gonna' show you somethin'."
"Heh–" she chuckles dryly, tailgating with a gentle pull of your forearm.
You two whip around a door nook, glide through the foyer and advance upon a staircase. Your cotton–clad heels stroke wood planks beat by beat, soft wallops that carom off skyscraping maroon wine walls. Ribbons of lunar light dangle on and off your heads, crafting gauzy shrouds that mix and mingle off the corners with a bobbing ascent. Every wall laid reminiscent of a ritzy manor, a lacquer of lavish. 
The flight of stairs then ingress into a much thinner hall, in a much quainter space, and fitted to each doors awaiting enigma. Duller light spills through, glossing the path you took towards a fawny brown door– your bedroom.
Ellie espies the cleave of an abutting door, aiming a bead on with her index, "Wait– isn't that the–"
"Shh," you gingerly rustle air on locked teeth, shifting your arm towards the gilded rotund knob and twining with metal clicks and clacks, "bathroom was just a cover up."
"Oh~" 
"Hmm hm~" you kittenly croon.
The barrier pendulates sideward from your stride, only to be elbowed soundly back to a wisping shut.  You pinch the little knob's notch and, click, lock the door. An amused flit of breath pours from her agape lips, catching your wordless gist bereft of another second.
Ellie thrums that same old rasp, sweetening you up, "Real smooth babe, takin' us up here.." her feet coast her closer to you, kitty–cornering you to a rearwards stumble.
Plaster bumps, a welting sharp ridge– they trench in your ankle and up as your calves butt the wall, inevitably backed up. Trapped, positively trapped. 
"Well–" a scoff enlightens your latter words, "couldn't just stay there with you two fingers deep, hm?" and your 'hm' asks for her agreement, pitch yawing.
"Was 'gonna make it three, but.." 
"But?"
Her head shrouds yours in a gray penumbra, orangey–tint nose a scant whisker from brushing yours, and sends you into a conundrum with a mere utter, a tepid utter, "got uhh', something better for you." tying off with a willed lip bite.
"Oh really?" you moon with pep, hooking a calf around hers.
She smokily coaxes, "Fuck yeah– look." her knotty digits then cruise around her hips, meeting at her denim zipper and tugging that metal tab down. Fleeting as starlight, she thumbs the belt–band and chucks her jeans just beneath the ruck of her asscheek, chafing fabric to fabric with her lax boxers.
A lone brow quirks, expressing the fact that with the way she juts hers hips forward and palms her crotch weirdly– it reared too obvious, "Ellie, don't tell me–"
A springy mass wiggles against the front inseam, held in her teasy tauty grip– veins popping of course, "Tell youu whaat?" her words muff in hoarse laughter.
"Baby.." you exhale, adjoining a whiny moan. Ellie's such a goofy tease.
That simple mass in her crotch, was a sign– a clear, lucid, taintless and foretelling, that you were getting stuffed like a turkey tonight.
In counter, her exhale fuses with yours in dancing particles, so gentle, finer than purity made flesh, "Babe.." and such gentleness caresses your ears, a pureness forgotten in those divinity forsaken puppy eyes– pout moist.
You can't rend your pupils elsewhere, trapped like mice, you gape with encroaching arousal dowsing out your nerves– and drenching down below. Markedly, where you gaze now– her fingers tug the waistband down, exposing the bulbous green head of her cock in her boxers tight band, barely, literal orb of luster dabbled on the tip.
Now your eyes truly cannot escape.
Cotton tenderizes in lines around the bulge, her hand stroking above the shape. And the way you stare, fucks her mind good, speaking throatily, "God," a gulp bubbles, "can't stop starin' hmm?"
"Hehe– couldn't help but wear it?" you snap back.
"Yes ma'am," said off a grunt, pushing said bulge to your curious hand, pleading for a rub, "you gonna' suck her?" soothing is her tone, a breathless moan.
You coo, "Want me to?" and weasel your palm in circles, watching her pelvis follow.
"Uh'huh babe– mhh, need it.." she rolls the hem of her shirt up to her ribs, flaunting that strapping waist– perfectly toned.
Appetent with sure appetite, you nod, a nod that tows her lids down, down.. down, till the green born of her eyes rely on a thin horizon hawkeyeing you. A sliver of sparkle, eager in you. It only takes you dual bends of the knees, stamping chiffony flesh to cold oak and your fingers tucking in her underwear– to excite Ellie.
"Yeah, m'gonna suck her, suck that cock." you mouth in broken vowels, steeping breath on her firm navel pouch.
"Fuck.." she nimbly grunts and tosses her head back, tightening skin on the jounce of her adams apple, swallowing.
Giving tender pressure on her boxers, you slither them netherward until they sojourn atop her bunching jeans fixed above the knee. You swear, those quads of hers clench at your brushing touch, causing your sights to skip up on that dangling cock. Wow. The fat head pokes your nose–tip, curbing up as she cradles its silicone girth to palm.
"Hold uh'," what you expected to be 'up' erupts as a tiny grunt snuffing, eyeing her other hand concealing her lips with a muffled 'puh' to top, "there we go." that hand draws down to smear her spit along the length, squelching mildly.
"Mhh–" you hum shorn of audible sound, batting keen breath on her strap, "–so big.."
You tell her that, everytime. And everytime, she revels in that negligible fact, shutting her eyes in skin–sheathed darkness– pinpointing on how too–too hot that seems. And the way you say it? Oof.
Ellie tacks five fingerprints on your head's crown and coaxes in flits of force, easing you on, "My god, babygirl– oooh.." she relishes an oval–mouthed moan, watching your lips wrap her cockhead.
And it's warmer than anything you've gobbled so far this eve.
Balming a heat like that, tucked in her boxers so neatly and snug– it tickles your gums. Soft and pliant, your lips are, they crease and roll under as you swallow her in, impressing a pit on your tongue when they meet.
"Hhmmm.." you moan a mouthful on the frothed up silicone, dragging your lips back over to motion a bounce of your head.
"I know~" she coos to your bumble, pucking her hips with an equal piston to her pelvis, "them' lips feel goood– fuuckkk.." as if you can feel them, dork.
You clasp her thickness in hooks of your tongue, sending splotches and globs of spit to pool around your oval–ringed mouth, courtesy of her tip bumping your throat in, "Guh- guh, guh, guhh–" prods. 
Ohh, that birdsong. The quaffing of your vocal bands subject to her humps, producing a rhythmic beat to alight her hormones. Your song worthy of hearing. You wimp the swelling sink that her nails wreak, a flicker between cuspate tapering and a meek love– a calling for more.
Enlighten me a morsel of those twisted, dirty thoughts, auburnhead devil.
Leathery wads of her free digits roam hot on your pulping cheeks, chiseling out as you suck. Her fingers then find themselves arcing a tuck behind your ear, thumb printed to your temple. A dash of encourage, she presses, a truer than blue visage, she contorts ran by pleasure. Squelch, suckle, drag spit, and repeat.
Due to your stretching spread of lips taking her well, likeness of a blockade in your mouth, you couldn't speak. Obviously. So over the wish–wash of saliva, Ellie tunes you in with her filthy comments.
"Suckin' my filthy cock.. fuck–" she pauses with a gruff moan, baking in your brain deep, "gonna' make me cum so goood–" her vowel strains, clenching her pussy lips around nothing except the cool, cruel air, "yes.." 
A reed of cold nips your chin, seconds hence realization settles; you're getting sloppy. A manifestation of Els actually fucking your noggin to slosh, wouldn't spark surprise if liquid poured from your cranium at this point.
Her own arousal rots you further down, too.
With the feeling of her cock climbing near hellward down your throat, smacking on the gummy walls, and the husk her moans endure, crucifies your pussy with an ache of want. Fabric of your jeans suffers a beat, your clit, throbbing. It hurts so good and it stings so right, so tight, you need her now.
A faster bob you give, the more Ellie can't take it either. 
"Babe–" she hawks out, but fails to halt your bopping movements, "babe, fuck–" the digits parked behind the conch of your ear skip and push your jaw up, staking her cock out with a spring. 
"Ghh– schhlp, huh?" a chuck of spit muddled your words, unfurled tongue lapping up every web left by your messy, messy mouth.
Nook of her hand like a cusp to your jaw, she beckons you with a nudge, and rasps, "Up– c'mon, n'turn that ass around." 
Ass. Something about that word reverberated in you, bothered you hotly, made a tepidness leak from your cheeks. The rasp she rung it with, eyeing you with twin fern flames for irises– an approaching engulfment to marry your skin with ashen blessing, more consuming. Ass, Ash, haha.
A flutter in your hips spreads like fire across your legs. It weakens the muscle you bend, standing upright challenged resemblant of a feat, especially when Ellie's grabby gropes found purchase in the crevice of your hips, spindling you on a quick axis. It wanes the composure you hold like a goblet, dwindling to shattered shards across the floor, primarily as those bedeviled claws slot under rough woven denim and remove them false of trouble and trick– ruching to nothing at the root of your ankles.
Where happy hubbub clamors downstairs, pleased pandemonium moans upstairs.
A jut of two knobby hip bones thump into each asscheek, denting the skin into a gully. Warmth, a ligature of it rides through your backside, making you shake. Not like her hands would let you tremble, one being so immovably returned to your hip.
"Fuuck that pussy 'been waitin' for me, huh? Can just tell.." mumbles her with vocal fry, pupils ogling bare of shame at your cinched folds, clasping nothing.
"Your fault."
"Oh really?"
"Mhm.." you hum timidly.
"Gonna call me dickhead again, or–" a fat ball teases the dripping lips of your pussy, spreading them slightly and sloshing the skin around, "Is this enough?"
To give way, was a mistake, buckling your pelvis deeper on her cock which faces a grip ardent to shaft– teasing with rolls of her wrist. The cockhead, or literal dickhead, warps and smooshes against your clit as she toys with it. A whiny, "Huuh– Els.." mangles in your larynx, pitching.
"Yeah, you like that? Know you do." that damned smirk lives in her curving tone, sweet with a dash of tang. Her cock dilates your delicate folds further, exposing the velvet flesh to cold air and an intrusive visit. 
Your fiendish pussy kisses her cocktip and ceases its movement, clamping her in place, whimpering, "Mhh, ahh– ah.." 
"Hey, 'lemme go– was just getting started babe," she laughs crisply, landing a fine plume touch to your ass, "c'mon.. loosen up.."
A flux of slacken tires the muscles that clamp her in, hugging your entrance more softly around her tip.
Ellie winches weight on her knees, crouching her groin into you with a slow swerve, "There we go.." she purrs with tension in her tune, relieving a sigh when her cock pops in silkenly.
You seize up, gasping sharply, hips begging to break brittle in her grasp of iron– but iron does not deform easily. Pressure stays pressured, and digits knurl over the hill of your hip bone to prop it upright. With walls expanded on her cock like your pussy was made for her, it humbles you, belittling you to sludge in her metal caress.
"Fuuckk yeah–" she broadens her sigh of bliss, abrading on the 'K', like a crackle. Pleasure kills neutrality in the smoothest way, gathering grooves in her forehead, "y'feel so warm baby.. mhmm–" 
"That's not even your dick.." you half–way give a giggle, suppressing the moans you choke up.
A tense whistle of air sounds from Ellie's nose, a reaction of vague irritation, "Swear to god.." her tongue smacks after and a sudden thrusting of her fat cock catches your mind astray, winding those choked moans out. 
"Uhn– uh fuck, huhh–" you babble.
"Not my dick huh? Who's fucking you? Tell me, fuck– yeah?" Her words warble where skin smacks, wetness palping in obscene squelches. 
Does she really expect you to answer when her cock continually swells your cunt and abuses your g–spot? Yeah. Ellie will fuck the answer from one hole to the other, if she so feels compelled to.
But of course, you don't answer.
"Baaabeee," she taunts, "baabyyyy," and tortures, "who she getting fucked by right now, tell mee.." and fucks, cooing purer than vernal spring washed in the rain, mushing globs of pre–cum all over your cervix.
"Y-you.."
"That's right."
This feels almost violating to your vagina, to be stuffed like this. Did she size up? Get a new strap? Whatever the case presents itself as, it felt fucking good. Made you woozy, each bop she played like a drum on your sore ass, summoning a white ring of creamy sap to veil around her cock's girth. White droplets failed to envelop her cock, though, each jiggle of your muck bodies lashing beads of it onto the oak boards, your thighs, her pretty auburn bush, etcetera. Attempting to grab the wall, duh– that fails, then you scramble jittery digits across said wall, awkwardly finding a rigid door trim to grasp at long last– speak of the devil, Ellie laughs at that.
"Haha– aww, too big for you princess?" she utters to you like a dumbass, ego brimmed with the pumps her cock skids on your gummy walls, smirking with thinned lips.
Vulnerability loathes humility, "Fuck y–you."
"Sure."
Her perception of sight, harboring verdancy, drops low to your bulging hole that swallows her good– as you should, tender milk that pools inwards as she slides out, and froths a flood of slick when she humps it back to the same hole it spilled from. 
Might she indulge more sampling?
Ellie's hell–sworn index traces your swelling folds mellowly, togging a cap of pearly cum on her finger pad. Scrutinize, then she licks. Her peach lips kiss her finger softly, puckering wrinkles as she sucks the sleek off, "Sssmhpt–" her lips zip, "yeah–ha, that's what 'm taking about–" delighted, she is.
The knot in your womb begins to coil and fill, a rapturous sting impaling inside. Your folds, springing on her friction, sends a ripple to fluctuate in your ass cheek. Enticing. So enticing, Ellie grabs a handful, bloating fat strokes of your buttcheek between the webs of her delirious fingers.
"Ghh– yes.. yes–" she growls, deep in her lungs. The harness in return rubbed her clit in all the right ways, electrocuting her legs with a twitch, "arch that bsck f'me baby, c'mon– arch on my fuckin' cock–" 
Harking her, you heed. Heed with a convex draw of your back, protruding your ass out for her messy usage. That– that was the last straw, her only straw. You being so keen. Something less than a mutter of, "Good girl." was the last audible voice you could pick up, her game swapping to a faster ramming into your sloppy pussy.
"Ellie!" you wince, praying on a star, "So g–good.." you gape and fall forward, smearing slobber on the drywall.
Her cock was too much. 
A tear soaked upon that very wall, gifting it a taste of your salty heaven.
"Mhmm– god, fuck fuck fuck! You're so good, s'good t'me.." a breath shuddered, she limps forward onto you. Her pale hips still punishing with a litany of humps, now scores deeper on your gushy cervix, her drenched chest marking hot on your clothed back.
"Needa' cum– Els, babe.." why you were even asking, might flummox a future specter of yourself– purling on her thickness, feeling the endless tension pull from you in strings of cum, kissing the head of her cock, you were on the train track to cumming already. Dumbified questions really egged Ellie on, luckily.
"Yeah baby, want'chu to– all over her, she needs it, mhm–" she assures you, two foam–spit lips stamping your lobe, "feel that baby?" her elbow mounts like a belt to your hip crest, ducking under and tamping your womb, palm to pudge, and intones, "She's so fucking deep– shit.." 
Spade of her cock punching your walls, over and over, you finally snap. The added hand to your belly, sought it done. Done well, pronto. 
You convulse in tight vices to squeeze her dick, orgasm shaking you to the literal core, "Huunhh– Ellie, Els! Ssuhh– Ell–" a clammy paw wedges your mouth from splitting the walls with your uproar, fingers tender on your lips cushion.
"Shh– shh.. not so loud babe, take it easy–" snuffing you, she talks clemently, little grunts detailing you on how close she was, too, "that's it.. don't hold back baby– uh, fuck."
Her cock fucks you just right, blows you fried so easily, with every heavy lunge– you weep.
A pang twisting inside averts a sightly gaze to the beautiful coastline of darkness, pure oblivion. Fuzzy dollops of faded splotches prance your vision like a sick joke, mocking your high. You can't even croak, not even a peep, just sit back and let cum dribble from your hole, plashing her filthy cock in a sick mess.
Right on a dream–like cue, a snarled groan mauls from the deepest depth of her diaphragm, fresh on your ear, "Ghhodd– fhmm, good fuckin' pussh– mhh!" 
Splash.
Her lids squinted tight, nose flared wide, she came. In waterfalls you couldn't observe, but swore you heard. A geyser to the floor, hyaline ribbons of her precious flavor taint the floor so disgustingly, so vividly, it shines.
Guess the wine loosened both of her lips.
She usually does not cum like that.
Damn.
Muggy exasperation fans your neck in ghostly hands that wrap, a recalescent mist baying for some kind of relief in dramatic swells and shrinks her chest pushes into you. Then, something moreso flobbed, a chuckle.
"Heheh–" her fingers slip from your lax lips, tapping kittenly on your chin.
"That's was, mhh– um–" you huff, dead of air just like her.
"Good?"
"Yup, just– couldn't.. oof.." 
Her lips purse and plant a kiss to your scruff, grinning against the flesh, "Did good for me," moist smacks besmirch further, rasping, "felt so good t–"
A beating of hardy steps peals through the door's underside, sending a wash of shock over both of you abruptly.
"Fuck." Ellie's voice muffles sotto voce, darting grips to your folded hips, thumbs tacking on the streched knoll your ass provided.
You perk your ears in tune of this noise, gut instinct curls and kicks your body to move, bucking back on Els– who mind you, was still sheathed inside you.
That knocked another grunt from her, "Hmmph– don't do that– god, babyy.." she whines, runting back into you.
Hole stuffed back up, you clench your fists into a ball. This idiot.
"Ellie? You in there?" A familiar, dense, Texan drawl aptly known as Joel's, beacons from beyond the door.
That's bad.
"Shit what do I–"
"Get off, for onee–" a tense on your chords, you huff, bucking her muck sweat thighs off your hind and skidding out her cock pronto. The sudden emptiness was jarring, but, no time to waste.
"Fuck! Again–" she hisses.
You crouch your bare bum inches from the floor and swoop up the pooling pile of denim and cotton panties, rearing them up and fiddling with the metal button. Ellie followed suit, the best of her abilities– sex really fogs up her faculties, and pressed her cock plumb to her stomach as to tuck it properly her boxers, letting the band snap in place on waist– gently.
Triple knocks erupt, and then his bellow, "Kiddo?"
"We're good, we'll be down!" she calls back, eyes far from not studying your scurrying silhouette, just has to comment, "–fuck that ass." like she wanted more.
A grumbled 'Hmm' vibrates on the oak, trailed by fleeting footsteps that trudge away, thump, thump– you get it.
"Oh?" you kink your whisper, foxily, "second rounds?" and pivot around to face her.
"Mphht– not what I meant, dickhead." her voice deepens weirdly at the brink her sentence plonked upon, cocking her head with a smirk.
"Whatever." your eyes roll, capering off the room's corners.
"Hmph–" gruffed in amusement, "Cutie." gingerly steps huddle you right against that wall again, two biceps meeting warmth–to–warmth with your soaken shirts waistline.
Scoff, just scoff, "I think this is how second rounds start, liar." 
She goes all bumbly, furrowing those bushy orange brows and frisking her eyes in a roll, copycat, "Don't get me started, pleasee." she begged fakely, cadence dense.
"Too late."
"You're right." her lips, wisp to yours so perfectly timed, interlocking one pink bud under your top lip and butting noses, plushing together in tide. Even plopped a little smack to the clad meat of your ass, how sweet.
A scant hint of dinner lingered on her breath, passed to you like a spill. Makes you want to slink those stairs in one go for a different palate of seconds. But, alas, you two bet smooches on the hope of no further interruptions, scarfing up kisses like hungry dogs.
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(pls lmk if u wanna be added to the perm list, some mentions didnt work!)
@whore4abby @aouiaa @ellieslittlewhore @baumbii @tlougrl @mina-281 @beabeebrie @elliewilliamsisactuallymygf @nicolicht @cosmikoo @xinyaya @sawaagyapong @reinersbigolboobies @brunettedolls-blog @syrenada @fairyysoiree @p4ison1vy @nil-eena @hi2647 @disaster-bi-suki @rarestdoll @narieater @hrtmal @eudaemoniaaaa @ellie-07063 @luvfaeri @carleenaelaine @kissyslut @ellieswh0r3 @beemillss
2K notes · View notes
harrysfolklore · 12 days
Note
another instagram prompt with madison beer as face claim but relationship focused please!! 🥺
WELL HELLO THIS IS MY FIRST F1 BLURB 🥹 i’m kinda nervous idk why but i hope you like it! i left this open for a part two so lmk if that’s something you’d like to see
btw this is obviously inspired by taylor and joe breakup and taylor and travis lol, also harry ilysm sorry for making you the villain here, anyways, ENJOY!
MASTERLIST | MY PATREON
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liked by arianagrande, sabrinacarpenter and 5,028,299 others
yourinstagram THE SPINNIN TOUR STATRS IN 10 DAYS 🥲🤍 who am i seeing there??
view all 76,044 comments
ynfan1 SO FUCKING EXCITED
conangray LETS GO 🔥
ynfan2 this is going to be the biggest concert tour in history and i’m so serious
↳ ynfan1 i mean the pre sale broke ticketmaster, three stadium dates on each city sold out. it’s going to be insane
harryfan1 i can’t wait for the boyfriend harry content this tour is going to give us
ynfan3 she’s getting ready to make history
annetwist ❤️❤️❤️
harryfan2 soooo ready to see harry at the vip box on opening night and all the other nights
dualipa an angel 🤍
oliviarodrigo 💘
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liked by harryfan1, harryfan2 and 6,754 others
harryupdates Harry out in London today !
view all 309 comments
harryfan1 MY BUUUUB
ynfan1 what is he doing in london??? the spinnin tour starts today
harryfan2 HARRY GET YOUR ASS TO ARIZONA RN
ynfan2 he’s not attending opening night :(
harryfan3 what is he mad about lol
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liked by charles_leclerc, sza and 6,826,239 others
yourinstagram 7th night of the spinnin tour done ! houston thank you so much for your love and your loud singing, i’m making the best memories of my life on this tour thanks to you 🤎
view all 78,203 comments
ynfan1 TOUR OF THE CENTURY
conangray this tour changed my life fr
↳ ynfan2 BEST OPENING ACT EVER
harryfan1 okay but WHEN is harry doing his spinnin tour debut
↳ ynfan1 i wonder the same thing 🤔
arianagrande 🖤
charles_leclerc I can’t wait to see the show 🙌🏻
↳ charlesfan1 CHARLES ???
↳ charlesfan2 he’s a pop girlie wbk
harryfan2 get your ass to the next show NOW
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//
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liked by harryfan1, ynfan1 and 109,035 others
people It’s over 💔#YN and #HarryStyles are calling it quits after six years of dating. Tap the link in our bio for the full story.
view all 25,364 comments
harryfan1 WHAT?????
ynfan1 NO WAY
harryfan2 nah i don’t believe this
ynfan2 but what about lover??? delicate ??? pov??? so american ??? golden hour ?? paper rings ?? WERE ALL THOSE SONGS NOT REAL
harryfan3 man im so confused right now, how did this happen
ynfan2 lord she must be heartbroken and she has to continue with the tour performing for 70k people every night
harryfan4 this is clearly fake
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liked by charlesfan1, ynfan1 and 29,827 others
profesionalfangirlie UM HELLO I JUST MET CHARLES LECLERC AT YN’S SHOW !!???? istg i just wanted a refill for my lavender haze margarita and he was there in line too WTF ?? #thespinnintour
view all 2,927 comments
charlesfan1 NO WAY 😭😭😭
ynfan1 THIS IS SUCH A SLAY
ynfan2 yn is a celebrity to celebrities
charlesfan2 HES SUCH A FANBOY
charlesfan3 i need to see him trading friendship bracelets
charlesfan4 HOTTEST MAN ALIVE
ynfan3 he’s about to experience the best show of his life
charlesfan5 THE CONTENT WE DESERVE
ynfan3 WAS HE AT THE VIP TENT??
↳ profesionalfangirlie i think he’s up there in a suite of the stadium with family and friends
↳ charlesfan1 OHHHH
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liked by charlesfan1, charlesfan2 and 9,265 others
charlesupdates “I wanted to give YN a friendship bracelet with my number on it, since I knew her shows were all about friendship bracelets. She didn’t want to meet me after the show so I took it personal. Other than that the show was completely out of this world, she’s amazing.” -Charles on attending the Spinnin Tour for Fedez podcast !
view all 828 comments
charlesfan1 OMG???
charlesfan2 THIS MAN ISTH
ynfan1 girl wtf why didn’t you want to mee him ? @yourinstagram
↳ ynfan2 i bet it was a timing thing and not her actively not wanting to meet him 🥹
charlesfan3 is he shooting his shot ???? publicly
charlesfan4 NOT CHARLES BEGGING FOR A CHANCE
ynfan3 this would be such a powerful ship… ferrari’s golden boy and the pop princess.. do you see the vision…
↳ charlesfan1 I SO DO
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INSTAGRAM DMS
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//
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liked by charles_leclerc, jacobelordi and 6,398,002 others
yourinstagram last night of the spinnin tour in the us 🥹🥹 you can tell by my fave here that i’m going to miss these crowds every single day. THANK YOU for coming to the shows, singing every lyric and making friendship bracelets, all the memories we made together will stay with me forever 💘 LATIN AMERICA YOU’RE NEXT 🇲🇽🇦🇷🇧🇷
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ynfan1 IM SOBBINGGGGGG
ynfan2 IM SO EXCITED FOR THE NEXT SHOWS
arianagrande easily the best show anyone has ever put on, love you sister 🤎
theweeknd The GOAT 🐐
ynfan3 she finished her stadium tour after getting out of a 6 year long relation and being completely heartbroken. she loves her art more than anything
↳ ynfan1 she can do it with a broken heart because she’s THAT good
charles_leclerc Congratulations, excited for what’s coming next 🙌🏻
↳ charlesfan1 CHARLIE ???
↳ charlesfan2 WHATS GOING ON 😭
ynfan4 harry styles you have nothing on her
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liked by ynfan1, charlesfan1 and 10,296 others
ynupdates YN AND CHARLES LECLERC OUT AND ABOUT TONIGHT !!!
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ynfan1 HUHHHH???
ynfan2 GOOD GOD
charlesfan1 IS THIS ACTUALLY HAPPENING
ynfan3 wow and some people clowned him when he said he wanted to give yn a bracelet with his number
harryfan1 she’s dating someone already ??? wow
↳ ynfan1 she has all the right do it especially after realizing that she wasted 6 years of her life with someone who never made any sacrifice for her
↳ charlesfan1 ntm that charles has done more in what a week??? (commenting on her posts, holding hands in public, not making her run from the paps) than harry did in 6 years
↳ harryfan2 i will always mourn ynrry
ynfan3 IM SOOO HERE FOR YNS WAG ERA
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//
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liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55 and 9,302,933 others
yourinstagram my first race 🏁 i had the best time with the best people🤍
view all 99,027 comments
ynfan1 OMFGGGGG
charlesfan1 the jacket ????? the bracelet ????? the last pic ????? INSANIYY
dualipa ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥
ynfan2 THIS IS SO SERIOUS ALSJAKA
harryfan1 she never posted harry in their 6 years together but she posts dumps about her rebound 😭
↳ ynfan1 as if harry wasn’t an ass who never wanted their relationship to be publicly acknowledged, bffr
ynfan2 IM SO HAPPY FOR HER
charlesfan2 i lowkey love this, charles is proof that persistence is key
charles_leclerc ❤️❤️❤️❤️
↳ charlesfan1 AHHHHHH
↳ charlesfan3 I CANT DO THIS
ynfan3 idk if they’re dating but it’s so good to see her proudly attending events and posting about them and not hiding to please the person she’s with
leclerc_pascale Belle 🤍
↳ charlesfan1 MAAAANNNN ITS SERIOUS
lilyhme queenie ⭐️
↳ ynfan1 told ya she was going to befriend all the wags 😭
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liked by scuderiaferrari, yourinstagram and 2,038,766 others
charles_leclerc Perfect race ❤️
view all 44,827 comments
charlesfan1 LOML
ynfan1 perfect bc yn was there so true
arthur_leclerc 🙌🏻
charlesfan2 checo in the back is killing me
ynfan2 HARD LAUNCH YN ON INSTA NOW !!!
leclerc_pascale ❤️
harryfan1 you’ll never be harry
charlesfan3 i need yn on every race now
yourinstagram 😍😍😍❤️‍🔥
↳ ynfan1 HEEEEELP
↳ ynfan2 CONTROL YOURSELF
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liked by charlesfan1, ynfan1 and 9,643 others
charlesupdates Charles and YN in Argentina today !! YN has a show there tomorrow, we love a supportive boyfriend 🥺
view all 997 comments
charlesfan1 OMFGGGG
charlesfan2 WE STAN THIS
ynfan1 maannn this is what she deserves, someone who's willing to travel across the globe to support her
↳ ynfan2 i can't believe harry just went to ONE show of the positions tour and we used to think that was the most romantic thing ever
charlesfan3 I KNEWWWW he would be at every show once her tour started again
ynfan3 I CANT WAIT FOR ALL THE CONTENT
charlesfan4 we need a charles cam at the spinnin tour crowd
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liked by ynfan1, charlesfan1 and 14,382 others
ynupdates YN JUST CHANGED THE KARMA BRIDGE TO "KARMA IS THE GUY ON THE PITS COMING STRAIGHT HOME TO ME"
view all 1,005 comments
ynfan1 WTFFFF
ynfan2 SHES INSANE 😭
charlesfan1 LORD PLEASE HELP ME
ynfan3 she's so silly. she's also deranged
charlesfan2 what a time to be alive
charlesfan3 MAN I CANT STOP WATCHING THE VIDEO OF CHARLES REACTION
ynfan4 FRUIT BOY YOURE SO OVERRRRR
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liked by carlossainz55, yourinstagram and 4,973,229 others
charles_leclerc The Spinnin Tour🤍
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charlesfan1 GOING INSANE
ynfan1 OMG BABYYYYY
leclerc_pascale 💕❤️
ynfan2 FINALLY SOMEONE WHO POSTS ABOUT HER !! AND ATTENDS HER SHOWS !! AND IS SUPPORTIVE !!
charlesfan2 this boy is down BAD
carlossainz55 🙌🏻
ynfan3 i cant believe some people still want her old relationship when we have THIS
charlesfan3 charlie's popstar boyfriend era
yourinstagram thank you for being here 🥺
↳ ynfan1 SHE DESERVES THIS AND MORE
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liked by charlesfan1, ynfan1 and 29,265 others
thepopbuzz YN and Charles Leclerc spotted on a yatch in the Bahamas, the couple seems to be enjoying their days off before they have to go back to touring and racing respectively. Tap the link in our bio for more details 👌
view all 6,022 comments
charlesfan1 AHHHHHHHHH
ynfan1 i love one fairytale couple
harryfan1 trying to rewrite history i see
ynfan2 WE STAN
charlesfan2 that should be me
ynfan3 finally a boyfriend who likes pda
charlesfan3 I LOVE THEM SO BAD
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liked by yourinstagram, arthur_leclerc and 4,027,119 others
charles_leclerc I wanted to take pictures of my girl but she beat me to it
A much needed break
view all 58,266 comments
charlesfan1 STOP THIS
ynfan1 IM SPIRALING
carlossainz55 Enjoy mates 🙌🏻
lilyhme cuties 💓
charlesfan2 THE BOYFRIEND CONTENT I SIGNED UP FOR
ynfan2 HIS 🥹 GIRL 🥹
yourinstagram lover booooy ❤️
↳ ynfan3 AHHHH MY HEART
charlesfan3 we love simp charlieeee
ynfan4 i can’t stress how happy this makes me. from running to get in a van to this
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liked by arianagrande, charles_leclerc and 10,278,683 others
yourinstagram SURPRISE !! my new album THE TORTURED POETS DEPARTMENT is coming soon 🤍
ALL IS FAIR IN LOVE AND POETRY
view all 102,826 comments
ynfan1 KAHAIAJAYAABAJAI
ynfan2 WHAT ON EARTH
oliviarodrigo NO WAY ‼️‼️‼️
conangray thank you mother for constantly serving
ynfan3 THE COVER ??? THE NAME ?? THAT LYRIC ??? we’re not ready
charlesfan1 oooohhhh this is exciting
ynfan4 and fruit boy better HIDE
dualipa 🖤🖤🖤🖤
postmalone 🙌🏻
charles_leclerc So proud of you ❤️
↳ charlesfan2 AWEEEEEEES
↳ charlesfan3 i know they just started dating but i hope we get songs about him
740 notes · View notes
double--blind · 6 months
Text
(SPOILERS) breaking down how obsessed Andrew is w/his sister bc he's a repressed lil liar and I'm going insane
This post got longer than I intended it to
1. He claims they don't spend enough time apart from each other to even begin missing her so he doesn't even know if he would, but just earlier in the game he was apart from her for probs like 30 mins tops to investigates some cultists and guess what???? He was already missing her 😒
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2. Says "I thought you grew out of this touchy-feely crap" when Ashley asks for a hug, but earlier when he was cooking dinner, he was the one with the inexplicable urge to "pull this broody bitch into [his] arms and force her to stay until she smiles" 😒
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3. Piggy-backing off the last screenshot: WHAT OTHER THOUGHTS, ANDREW??? yOU WERE JUST THINKING ABT HUGGING HER. WHAT DO YOU EVEN MEAN. THESE ARE SIMPLY INNOCENT BROTHERLY THOUGHTS ARE THEY NOT????? 🤨🤨🤨
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4. Bro just can't keep his hands off her. And everyone thinks Ashley's the clingy one jeez (lol the way he springs apart from her when Mom catches them is definitely definitelyyyy not worth analyzing. nope. not even when it happens a second time on the couch. nope. nooope)
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5. What. What is he thinking here. Don't think I don't see those grey lil blush lines. Is this connected to my third point somehow bc like... 🤨😬 Is "Andrew" is gonna start doing and being what "Andy" was too spineless and afraid of doing?? That's what the vow was partly abt right?? Does that include—
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5. WHEWWW BOY that little flashback with his gf has so much baggage in it I just wanna dissect. His girlfriend's tryna have a serious discussion with him abt his weird sister for the sake of bettering their relationship bc she genuinely loves him, but he just gets caught up in fondly talking abt said weird sister instead??
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6. He's awfully hesitant abt Ashley learning some independence, bc y'know what?? I think he doesn't really want her to stop relying on him. But what do I know y'know
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6. Wants his gf to put tie her hair up in a ponytail, then when she refuses bc he'll pull on it, says it's just "how boys express their love". Well. You know who else puts there hair up in a ponytail??? You know who else's hair he's always pulling on and touching???
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7. The voicemails in his gf's phone left by Ashley are heard by him in his dreams, and his dreams are a construction of his mind utilizing his memories, personal hangups, and knowledge of Ashley. The voicemails irl were left on his gf's phone, and for all we know, he never actually listened to them in person. Bearing this in mind... odds are the things Ashley's saying contain bits of truths he believes within himself, filtered thru her crude, hateful dialogue.
Here. I transcribed one of them...
"DO YOU THINK YOU'RE BETTER THAN ME!? Just because you can fuck him and I can't? You think that's love?! Are you fucking delusional?? Cumdumpsters like you are just that. He will never love you. Not like he loves me. I am the only one. I am everything. I am the secrets you'll never hear. When he lies in bed at night, and when he needs someone to hold on to… It's not you he seeks out. It is me."
8. Claims Ashley's the one with the jealous streak, not him, but I think he's just as bad. The only difference is that Ashley's never given him reason to act on it since all she's ever wanted was him, but at the slightest mention of her gettin it on w/someone else, even as a joke, he gets mad. "OVER MY DEAD BODY!!" he says, when she's jokingly contemplating getting knocked up via the neighbor so an ambulance would come for her. "I wouldn't let them," he says, when she's complaining abt not being pretty enough for the wardens to bang her
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9. Going hand-in-hand with that fact, he's intensely protective of her. Didn't hesitate to cleaver the warden who found her in the closet (probs didn't even BLINK lmaooo he chose VIOLENCE), and when the cake-stealing cultist insulted her just once, he stepped forward just like that
10. In their apt, when they were lying on the floor talking abt jumping off the balcony, he was really caught up in the "romantic" fantasy of them committing a double suicide and dying with their bodies entwined so irreparably by the impact they form one unified corpse "never to be separated!" and they get buried in the same coffin together. UM??? Bro fr thought he was the sane one of the two. That wasn't even true before the cannibalism and demon summoning 😭😭😭
BONUS:
11. This might just be me, but his reaction to seeing the post-sex vision doesn't strike me as someone who's inherently opposed to the idea. Instead of disgusted, he was... flustered?? He acted like she walked in mid-guilty pleasure wet dream. This wasn't a "GROSS THATS INCEST" reaction which is... the most normal reaction to have. That's the face of a man that got CAUGHT bro.
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He asks "we're not like that, are we?" and "why are you like this?" and questions the veracity of the vision, but he never actually explicitly denies wanting the vision to happen, more focused on Ashley and her reaction. He buries the elephant under the rug as fast as he can, bc yeah, it struck a landmine, but it probably wasn't a landmine for the reason Ashley thinks it is. I bet the vision just hit a little too close... :P
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ln444 · 6 months
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dating lando. . .
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cw: mentions of sex, f!reader, fluff, slight smut.
notes: my first post 😭 i'm not very confident abt it but i hope you guys will like it! my requests are open so don't hesitate if you have any suggestions or just want to talk ! enjoy<3
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physical touch; i feel like lando would be incredibly touchy, even if it's just his hand on your thigh or sitting beside you with your shoulders touching. he simply needs to feel close to you every chance he gets. in public, he might dial back his affection slightly because he treasures those private moments, but that won't stop him from stealing sweet, discreet kisses when no one is watching or quietly holding your hand because he just can't keep his hands off you. in crowded places, he's the kind of person who instinctively puts his arm around your waist to ensure your safety. when it's just the two of you, lando can't help but be hands-on. he'll find any excuse to touch you, whether it's running his fingers through your hair or playing with your hands while you're chilling. he'll pull you closer every time you're beside him, or even have you on his lap while he's engrossed in some random pc game. kissing you is practically an obsession for him, and it's not limited to your lips. he adores exploring every inch of your skin, planting kisses on your neck, nose, cheeks, hands, and thighs. however, his absolute favorite place to kiss is still your lips. every kiss from lando feels as passionate and full of adoration as the first time, and he can never get enough of it.
quality time; he would definitely message you whenever he's available to spend time with you and invite you to hang out. he absolutely loves your company, even if it's just the two of you relaxing on the bed, watching entertaining videos and tiktoks, or having silly conversations. however, his favorite moments are when you embark on fun dates, like going to the arcade or go karting. his heart is full of joy from seeing you happy during these moments and he wants to tattoo every second of them into his memory. lando likes all types of dates because his primary desire is to share time with you. it might depend on his mood; sometimes he just wants to chill with you all day, staying in bed or playing games together. other times; he wants to venture out and go dance with you all night or go for a midnight swim. in the end, what really matters is that you are together.
words; in the early days of your relationship it was kinda hard for lando to express his feelings, he felt a bit uneasy because he was not used to vocalizing his feelings, he's more the type to keep everything for himself. but, with you, he learns surprisingly fast to talk about how he feels, both negative or positive emotions. you became his safe place. he would always praise you when he has the chance to even if it's for small random things, he would always remind you how much he's proud of you (and you do the same too ofc). even if this man loves teasing you, he also knows when to be serious and how to make you feel valued and loved. he uses a lot of nicknames like "angel", "love" or "sweetheart" because he knows how much you love them and how special it makes you feel. you were definitely the first one to say i love you, not that lando didn't want to say it but he was just too nervous to do it but since you did, he can't help but say it everyday.
sex; lando always makes sure you feel safe and comfortable when you're having sex. it doesn't mean that he doesn't like it rough tho, he absolutely loves having rough sex with you, even more when he's stressed or frustrated because of a race; hair pulling, spanking, face fucking, dirty talk... but always while making sure that you're okay. when it comes to vanilla sex, lando can become the softest man ever, he would whisper sweet things to you like; "that's my pretty girl", "i'm so lucky to have such a beautiful girl just for me", "you're doing so good angel", accompanied by gentle touches and kisses all over your body or when he's softly making love to you. his favorite thing is eating you out, he's literally obsessed with your pussy and will find any excuses to get a taste, even more when you ride his face while your eyes are locked with his.
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