Tumgik
#and there's I think two of them that I can't find ANYWHERE else
creedslove · 1 day
Note
Mari!!! I love your writing!!!
Do you think you could write a little jealous Dave York, maybe he has gotten with reader who is a little younger and he's a bit insecure, so he follows her or sees a guy flirting with her and he gets super jealous or protective. But in the end she's like I only want you and she let's him cum in her. 🫣
Sorry I just love Dave York I can't help it ❤️
Dave York x f!reader
A/N: bestie, who doesn't love Dave? He's literally precious, I love him with all my heart, and so do all of us!!! 💞❤️
Tumblr media
• okay, let's just establish something here: Dave is a jealous type, okay? No arguments about it, he can be a prince and sexy and treat you like a queen, but he is NOT gonna like to see any guy anywhere around you, he's gonna be pissed off and territorial
• you are definitely the best thing he has in life, he will never risk you having an interest in anyone else but him, he just gets angry and scared to even consider that, because it would break his heart and he would feel so betrayed
• luckily, just as he's obsessed with you, you're also obsessed with him, and you both are mature enough not to play stupid games or mess around with each other's feelings: you both love and respect each other and you don't flirt with other people for fun or whatever reason
• still, other people might try their chance, since you two are a very attractive couple: women all have their eyes on Dave and guys can't help but keep their eyes on you at times, and that's when our hitman gets bothered
• Dave isn't clueless, he knows he's a successful, charming and handsome man with a very attractive position at work but he's also aware you are younger than him, being his second marriage and already burnt by his ex wife, it's made him suspicious, because sometimes it's hard for him to see that good things can happen to him and you are one of them
• overall, underneath all of his hitman threatening persona, lies a rather insecure man who thinks you are way out of his league and that at any minute you're gonna snap from it and finally find someone you should really be with instead of him
• so when he has a break over the week, he decides it would be a great idea to call you up and meet you for lunch, just something quick: going to your favorite bakery for some sandwiches and a slice of cake; it was the kind of date you two didn't plan in advance but you loved it nonetheless, as it was so simple and romantic
• you felt so excited to meet your handsome Dave, you decided to look really nice for him, arriving a little before he did as he was still leaving the office, you picked a nice table and took a look at the menu, checking up your options when you felt glares at you
• you didn't know that man, he looked alright you guessed, he wasn't ugly, but he wasn't Dave's level of handsome either. He was wearing formal clothes which showed it was also his lunch break and once he captured your attention, he smirked and greeted you
• you politely greeted him back, wanting the interaction to end once for all, you weren't interested in him, simple as that, but the guy figured that if he insisted, things would be successful somehow, so he approached your table at the same time Dave got off the car and saw it from outside that unknown man making small talk
• Dave's body heated up at the same time he felt himself going cold and a bitter taste of jealousy flooded his mouth: he hated seeing you talking to him. He didn't know who that guy was but he definitely didn't want him around you, when you two were supposed to be having your lunch date, he didn't want to see you talking to a man who was visibly younger and fitter than Dave, whereas your hitman was going a little a gray and his belly was rounding up a little
• he feels his heart sinking at the same time he approaches the table, he wants to get there immediately and break apart whatever contact is going on, but hearing your voice brings Dave back to reality:
"I'm sorry, but I'm not interested, I'm waiting for my boyfriend, he's just arrived"
• you told the guy and got up, smiling and walking towards Dave, kissing his lips and hugging him. Your hitman simply wrapped his arm around your body and kissed your lips, giving the guy a rough stare
"is there anything wrong in here?"
• the man just shook his head and excused himself, apologizing and trying to hide how nervous he got once he "accidentally" spotted Dave's gun in his suit jacket. You didn't see when he flashed it at your admirer but you couldn't care less, you were just glad to see your handsome hitman there ❤️
____
Tumblr media
43 notes · View notes
scribbledghost · 3 days
Note
hi hi hi!! i just found your blog and have been binging your simon blurbs they’re so good TT ~ i was wondering if you’d ever considered writing platonic!simon ?? like maybe where reader is his younger sister or something (non canon obv but maybe she survived and he didn’t know until later in life??) i feel like it could be super angsty + a little fluff
I'm down to write any sort of Simon tbh! This is a very interesting prompt, and I think it can really give a glimpse into his character, so thank you for sending it in!
I think, at first, he's in denial. Heavily. Everyone else was dead, he had no reason to think you weren't, too. He'd operated under this assumption for years, even when he'd watched from afar as a group buried an empty casket next to the others. He hadn't found you in the massacre, and he hadn't found you at Roba's compound later. Surely those were the only two places you'd be, right? And no one - not the former squadmates who betrayed him, not Roba, not the brass - ever said a word about you being taken somewhere. You were dead, just like the rest. That's the only explanation that made sense. Even in his personnel file, among the list of other names of his former next-of-kin with a "deceased" stamp next to them, your name had a "missing, presumed dead" designation.
But still, part of him never stopped looking. Part of him still kept an eye out whenever he went anywhere, looking for you.
It was a futile endeavor, until one day... it wasn't.
"...Simon?"
He turns so quickly he develops a crick in his neck later, wild eyes immediately finding yours. He'd been out with the 141 in some dive bar somewhere, buried in between city streets and burnt out neon lights. The rest of the squad quiets, silently watching whatever this is unfold.
No. No no no no no. You were dead. You'd been dead for years. It's why he hadn't spent every waking moment looking for you. The person standing in front of him can't be you.
Except it is.
He stares, wide-eyed and barely breathing. You look different. Of course you do. But he never forgot those eyes of yours.
"Is it really you?"
He could ask the same thing. In fact, he does. He softly says your name, followed by a quiet "thought you were dead".
"Thought you were, too."
Right. Sometimes Simon forgets that technically, he's legally dead.
The dam breaks quickly, and Simon isn't sure who moves first between the two of you. You shed some tears, he holds you tighter than he's ever held onto anything in his life. He apologizes for not looking for you, for not doing more to reunite the two of you sooner, but you shut him down. You'd gone into hiding as best as you could after everyone died, never knowing that the men who did it were swiftly dealt with by your older brother. He had nothing to apologize for. And still, he keeps doing so.
Simon fills in the 141 on who you are - his baby sister, the last remaining member of his entire family. Price immediately mentions giving him some leave time in order to "catch up", which Simon takes. Gaz cracks a joke about how you can't be related to Simon - you're way too pretty (Simon is quick to remind the Sargent that he's never even seen his face). Soap, meanwhile, is grilling you about what his LT was like as a scrappy kid, no doubt to find ammo to use later to heckle him about.
27 notes · View notes
stagefoureddiediaz · 19 hours
Note
Hello, I don't get the "couch theory is a deeply buried fandom thing" going on ? I rewatched the beginning of season 6 just yesterday and it's a completely canon theory that Buck exposes to Eddie then to Bobby in those exact words, so I'm confused at the freak out ?
Hey Nonnie
Sooooooo Couch theory actually goes back to pre season 6 times and there is a difference between couch theory and couch meta - I shall attempt to explain!
So there have been jokes bouncing around fandom since fairly early on about Buck and couches - partly because they've always been a low key thing on the show (Buck and Eddie helping Maddie move her couch, Buck sleeping on Maddies/Chims couches when he moved out of Abbys, his comment about sleeping on the couch after the truck bombing etc) but some time mid way through s4 (I think - someone can correct me if I'm wrong) it was mentioned that Buck rarely interacts with anyone on a couch except Eddie and Chris - especially as time has gone on. it didn't really go anywhere aside from being a fun observation. It picked up a bit when we had Buck sleeping on the Diaz couch after the shooting - but it really was a fandom thing that we had a bit of fun with - and it becae a staple of fanfic.
Fast forward to season 5 and suddenly Bucks couch became a real thing - especially when Taylor moved into Bucks loft - I made an off hand comment at some point (I can't find the post) about how Taylors couch being blue and brought in by the two guys was a metaphor for Eddie during the shooting - how Eddie was always the thing between them in their relationship, not Lucy. Anyway things spiralled from there and there were many conversations happening about the couch being used as a metaphor for Buck's relationships etc - most of this was during the hiatus between seasons 5 and 6.
Then when season 6 started and Buck hadn't gotten a new couch, and he acknowledged why he hadn't got a new couch - the very thing we had been discussing over hiatus - and Oliver and Kristen Reidel mentioned it in an interview as well.
So now we're in a situation where the character has attached his own meaning to his couch, while we in fandom have out own thing going on with the couch of it all, essentially creating two different theories. Well a theory and a metaphor. I have recently reblogged a lot of hte couch theory posts should anyone want to read them for the full theory and exploration of the subject, but what it essentially boil down to is the following;
Couch theory is the fandom theory about Buck and his relationship with couches and encompasses the fact that its far more tied to the Diaz boys - such as the fact that post coma, Buck can only find the peace to sleep on the Diaz couch and not on his own - the one his mother had brought him. the theory posts explore the fact that we see Buck on the Diaz couch far more than anyone elses couch (in fact irc, other than his own couch, we rarely see Buck actually on a couch - chairs or armchairs yes but rarely couches - in other peoples houses!)
Then there is the couch metaphor - which is the symbolism Buck himself placed on his couch - it is the part of the theory that has crossed over as the character has become self aware of this specific aspect of the couch of it all - it is him recognising that he hasn't actually been the one to chose his couch - that his girlfriends have chosen them for him - and within that that he didn't have much agency in choosing the relationships either (this is not to say he didn't want to be in those relationships or that he was forced into them, it is him acknowledging that he has essentially been chased/ pursued and then gone along blindly, rather than the other way round, or an equal pursue/ pursued situation.) so like his needing to choose a new couch, he is going to take his time choosing his next partner.
Now we have a situation where Buck was seemingly going to pick out a new couch with Natalia at the end of s6 - which should, by implication of the weight Buck placed on the choosing of a new couch, mean that Natalia was the one - that Buck himself felt he had agency in his choice of relationship - and that he could stop placing so much weight on the couch and its symbolism.
Only we're in season 7 now, Buck didn't last very long with Natalia (a few weeks at most as the season is meant to more or lest pick up where s6 left off) and we haven't seen (properly) the new couch in the loft. In Bucks head he may no longer be placing any importance on the metaphor of the couch, however, the shows reluctance to give us little more than a glimpse through the stairs of a couch existing in the space, despite the fact we've had a couple of scenes in the loft now, is suggestive that there might in fact be more to the couch theory still to play out. Thats not the part the character is aware of (the metaphor) its the part he is un aware of - the part the audience is aware of - the theory that shows the Diaz boys as being central to the couch and Bucks search for happiness.
So couch theory lives on (it never died) and we wait to see how things play out with Buck getting (already having) a new couch, the fact that he already has one and where things head in relation to the diaz boys and Eddies couch - because Chris is the only one who has sat on it so far this season!
I hope this helps clear things up a little Nonnie but feel free to come back with more questions if you have them.
17 notes · View notes
knifegremliin · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media
go fuck yourself.
6 notes · View notes
0luv9 · 5 months
Text
can't move on || mattheo riddle
Tumblr media
Summary: He was done fucked, a weak man on his knees for her, mad for her, in love with her and funny enough she didn't know. Him sleeping around isn't helping him though.
Beware: angst, fluff (?), minimal plot, smoking, drugs, alcohol, she/her pronouns, second person used as well, miscommunication, misunderstandings, excessive use of swear words, both reader and Mattheo assume the worst, happy ending.
Words: 4.025k
Tumblr media
Mattheo Riddle is in deep shit. His feelings have dug him a deep hole, a hole so deep that he could bury himself a hundred times over and still not be anywhere near the surface. He is so in love with you. And you being so fucking oblivious, mistake his advances for him being friendly. It's funny because when has he ever done something friendly? He's not even friendly to his friends, he insults them as a greeting for fucks sake. It's ridiculous how clueless you are, it was endearing at first but now it's just painful for him to watch you go on dates, that too every date with a different guy.
He thinks you've fucked them all, afterall it's him, Mattheo Riddle, he only thinks in extremes, if you've been on a date with some dude, you ofcourse had fucked him because who wouldn't do you. He resorted to the same ways, fucking his frustration out but instead of feeling satisfied, he would feel relieved for a moment and then his frustration would grow more and more, never coming close to being satisfied. He thought he could just fuck it all out, that he could just forget you, that he could just hate you. It became a routine for him, he got rougher and rougher with the girls he slept with, reaching his own high became harder and harder. It was all because of you, 'cause you couldn't see his love and make him a lover.
His reputation was worsening, his grades started slipping, he started ignoring you, becoming angry easily, snapping at anyone and everyone. Fucking girls left and right, every day was the same and he wondered why the hell he couldn't find a solution to all his problems. His smoking habits became worse, one cigarette turned into two, two turned three and now he was smoking one pack a day. His life was fucked, he could no longer think for himself, the thoughts of you with someone else corrupted his mind at all times. Everyone could see him ruining his life, he couldn't care less, he didn't give a shit about the names he was being called, most of them were true anyway.
Tonight was like every other Slytherin party night, except for the fact that he hadn't touched a drop of alcohol, all he wanted was a drunk hookup but he had slept with most of the girls in the room and he couldn't bring himself to repeat them over. He sighed, walking off to a secluded balcony, pulling out a cigarette, it was boring, life had become boring.
"Mattheo," he nearly jerked his head in the direction of your voice, it's been so long since he's heard it. All of it coming back to him, all the feelings he was trying to get rid of came right back, knocking at his heart. He's looking for the sweet smile, the one you'd always give him when you'd talk to him but all you did was frown at him, looking at him like the onlookers who gossiped about him and it fucking hurt. "Yes darling," he greeted you like nothing was wrong, before you would've smiled at his cheesy nicknames but now you grimaced at his hoarse voice and stepped back, he quickly looked away, just like that he blew off his last chance, he couldn't face it, he couldn't see you walk away from him, he physically couldn't.
"Riddle-" "Don't, don't call me that," he whispered, it was pathetic, he knows it too but that doesn't stop him, he couldn't hear you call him that. "Mattheo, I am Mattheo," he breathed out like an affirmation to himself, as though reminding himself of the person he's losing, dropping his cigarette and putting it out with his shoe. There it is, he's doing it again, acting how you'd want him to act, you disapproved of his smoking habits, you never told him to stop though, just so you know, he would stop if you only asked but you never did. You never asked anything of him, making the friendship feel one-sided, never wanting to bother him, you didn't do that with your other friends, you were openly asking them for favours albeit small, still favours, that's how friends are, looking out for eachother but no, you never expressed it, he just had to read into it. It made him feel as though he was your friend, just for the name sake, wow- he couldn't even be your friend.
He closed his eyes trying to contain himself, taking a hit from the burning cigarette, his hands were trembling, he was hurt, he could never be with you, you were making it clear. For the first time he got an actual sign of rejection and he just couldn't take it. "Riddle." It was still your voice, coming from his side, he slowly turned, there you were, standing next to him, looking at him with concern, giving him the slightest bit of hope, making his heart pound against his chest. He simply stared at you this time, unable to think of a response because you called him by his last name, you never did that. You didn't speak either, both staring at eachother, him with everything unsaid, sadness, anger, hope, longing, love, every fucking thing while you looked at him with worry painted all over your face. Mattheo hated to have people worry about him, noone was obligated to do so and he didn't want anyone to do it but right now, he didn't seem to mind, your attention was on him, worried about him. You finally looked away, placing your glass on the railing, alcohol with a lollipop in the glass, a typical you thing.
"alright, Mattheo," a small smile was tugging at your lips at his actions, "tell me, what's going on?" He didn't have anything to say, what would he say anyway? Upon not receiving an answer you sighed and continued, "Draco was telling me how different you've been-" he scoffed loudly interrupting you, ofcourse this is what it is, Malfoy sending you to talk to him, to scold him like everyone else, ofcourse you wouldn't come to him on your own, he was so fucking worthless in your eyes. “Don’t do that Mattheo-“ “Yeah? Why not? Coming here to scold me like everyone else, you know what, surprise surprise, it’s nothing I haven’t heard before.” He was angry, you come to talk to him after all these days and it was to tell him, that he’s bad, that he’s wrong, yes, he started it by ignoring you but you didn’t even make an effort to talk to your “friend” while he was away, it pained him to know that you didn’t even care to check up on him.
“No, I am worried Mattheo, this is not okay for you,” you moved closer, shaking your head trying to find the words, “I tried Mattheo, to catch you, to talk to you but you were always turning away, ignoring me, I couldn’t even get a proper look at you these weeks. Draco was joking about you smoking two a day, one for each girl you slept with, it was then but now, a whole pack a day? I tried to get to you, tried to see what’s been hurting you, but all I saw was your back towards me.” You paused, looking around clearly frustrated, “I thought maybe you didn’t want to talk about it, so I stopped trying but I am sorry, I can’t help myself, I care about you Mattheo and I hate to see you like this,” you looked up at him, hoping he’d understand but he only stared at you blankly, maybe you were wrong to care, he clearly didn’t want to be bothered, you sighed yet again, clearly there was no point, you could only wish for him to be better.
You mustered up all the courage you could, moving closer to the brunette who still hadn’t said a thing, “I am sorry for bothering you, I hope you win whatever battle it is that you are fighting, just know that I care and I can’t help but be worried when you are hurting, sorry if it is selfish that I want you to be better, I won’t disturb you anymore” you gave him a small smile, going up on your tiptoes planting a small kiss on his cheek, lingering for a moment, holding his hand in both of your own giving it a hard squeeze before letting go. It pained you to see that he didn’t seem to care about his own life, making you feel useless for doing the same, he was dear to you, you didn’t want to let go of him but clearly he didn’t want the same, who were you to deny him of anything? So, you let go, taking the moment in before walking away, the tears were ready to fall, you weren’t going to let him see that, you didn’t want him to see how pent up you were over him when he couldn’t even bring himself to care.
Mattheo could feel his chest burn, he could feel the sting in his heart at the sight of you walking away, his knees felt weak, you cared? You tried to reach out? Yes you did, of course you did, you weren’t the ugly person he tried to paint you as, he wanted to hate you so bad, he wanted you to be wrong, he wanted you to scold him, he wanted you to hate him just so he could move on but no, he could never move on from you, even if you spat his way he’d love you. ‘Sorry if it is selfish-’ he fucking wants you to be selfish, he wants you to be selfish about him. Only if he wasn’t busy imagining you with other guys, maybe he would’ve noticed that you smile a bit more around him, just maybe he’d see your eyes looking out for him. Maybe then he would’ve seen the look in your eyes, one similar to his, but he was a fool, he’d always be unworthy of your love, you wouldn’t love someone like him, he ruled that possibility out the very moment he fell in love with you, thereby in his mind even if you actually loved him, you didn’t because he couldn’t see it.
He called after you, he couldn’t see you walk away, not when he has so much to say. You turned around, he saw tears in your eyes, he felt like dying, it was him who made you cry, if he didn't hate himself before, he clearly did right then. With two wide strides he was infront of you, holding your face, wiping away your tears, "please don't walk away from me," he muttered, trying to get you to look up at him, you look up at him with stars in your eyes, taking his breath away, 'I want you so bad' he thinks to himself but it's false, no, he doesn't simply want you, he fucking needs you like the air you take away from him, when you look at him like that- hazy eyed, making him think that you love him but he knows you don't, he knows you don't love the guys you go on dates with, he knows you don't love the guys you sleep with, in his eyes you love to care but don't care to love, he'll be one of those guys, if it means you'll have him, even if it is for one night.
He was staring at you, looking for a sign, waiting for you to push him away but you just look at him with glossy eyes, making him weak, unable to contain himself he presses his lips against yours, you hiss pulling back, the bitter taste of smoke invading your senses, your reaction hurts him, he couldn't even be one of your guys, that's how worthless he is, his grip loosens, he tastes you on his lips, sweet cherry- the lollipop still sugary on your lips. Then you surprise him, fisting his collar, pulling him down, soft lips on his, like honey against his smoke. He loses it then and there, his hand comes up to hold your face, the other low on your back pulling you flush against him. It was heaven, eyes closed, moving in sync, savouring every second, he could feel his skin tingle, his body burn, it was pathetic how you could bring him to feel so much with the simplest of touches, and now you were kissing him, better than any dream or fantasy, it's real, he reminds himself, frowning as he concentrates trying to capture every single detail, of you against him.
Mattheo walks you back to the railings, not letting go of you even for a second. You pull away as the cold metal makes contact with your body, the sting seeping through the thin layer of your clothes. Still impossibly close practically breathing the same air, then the situation dawns upon you, you look up at Mattheo in horror. This is what has become of your love for him, he's using your attraction towards him to get you into bed, just like he did with other girls. There was no difference in their relationship with him and yours with him, evidently so. You loved kissing him but you hated the fact that it meant everything to you but all it was to him was a one night stand, your dignity would not allow it, even though you wanted him so badly. "I'm- I'm sorry but I can't," you quickly walk off, not looking back this was humiliation, you felt embarrassed.
One moment you were there kissing him and the next you were gone, he fucking hates this because he doesn't know what to do or what made you push him away. You gave him hope when you kissed him but shattered it when you walked away, you were confusing him. Why'd you kiss him like that if you wanted to let go? His hands reach out to pull at his hair, "Fuck" he grits out, it was frustrating not knowing what to do, knowing he has done something wrong. But for the most part, he doesn't know how you feel, you kissed him like you felt something but you walked away like it was nothing. He's over it.
He's absolutely not over it. He couldn't even stick to the plan for five seconds, images of you in his arms plagued his mind. He could only cherish that moment, he felt more alive in those few seconds than he ever did, his lips are still tingling, it's the next morning and his head is still in clouds. Mattheo for once, feels human- he feels like going to class again just so he could see you. The wound of your rejection was still fresh in his heart but so was the memory of your lips against his in his mind.
He could handle the professors' taunts, he infact muted them out and zeroed in on your face, you were avoiding him, he could see it, trying so hard just like he did the past few weeks. He saw himself in you for a moment but then you started talking to some Hufflepuff dude next to you, smiling at him so pretty, his blood started burning hot when he saw the guy touch you. You did nothing to push him away, pfft- ofcourse he wasn't Mattheo fucking Riddle that you'd push him away.
Mattheo was practically burning holes into you skull as he took a seat in the very back. Only if he wasn't so overtaken by jealousy he'd see that your smile didn't reach your eyes as you laughed at the Puff's joke, that your reactions were simply polite, a mere distraction from the pinching of your heart. You didn't want to be one of the girls he slept with, didn't want to be discarded after being used.
He couldn't even be one of your guys, he fucking wanted it to be him so bad just to have your for a night, just so you could see him in a different light, just so you'd know that he loved you. He'd gladly be discarded by you.
Mattheo has been searching for you, for about an hour now, you were minx- rushing out of the class before he could catch upto you. You were no where to be seen, he was actually getting worried. He was just about to enter the dungeons when he saw Pansy near the entrance. She'd know your whereabouts, she was a close friend of yours. She'd help him too, because she was his friend as well, right? Or had he destroyed every relationship he had the past few weeks. "Pans, a moment please" "oh hey Mattheo," she greeted him with a smile, that's a good sign, "umm- do you know where-" there he was, polite stuttering fucktard, "oh I know where she is," He didn't even tell her who he was looking for, confusion taking over his features, "I saw you looking at her in class, you like her don't you?" Was he that obvious? If so, why couldn't she see it? "Yeah," he finally admitted it to someone else, it was out there now, he felt some weight lift off of his shoulders, there was no denying to it, he loved her and he doesn't care if he gets laughed at for it but then his heart stops at her next words. "She's on a date with some Hufflepuff, in Hogsmeade," her voice was sympathetic, hurt was painted all over his face.
They were standing there in awkward silence for a couple of minutes before she broke it, heading towards the entrance, "You know you should tell her," she gave him a small smile, she patted his back ready to slip into the entrance, he stopped her "Why? Did she say something about me?" His voice was full of hope, hoping that maybe she had confessed to her friend just like he did right then but to add onto his sorrow, Pansy shook her head, he let his head hang low, moving his hand over his face, scoffing bitterly at the situation he was in, "but you should still tell her, at least you'll be satisfied knowing that you did something about it than do nothing." She shrugged walking in, leaving him there to think about her words.
She is right. He has to know, to know how you feel, he has to talk to you, has to let you know how he feels because in his heart, there's hope that you may like him back because you kissed him like you did. Mattheo wants to confirm that it wasn't his delusions that rendered your lips to move against his in adoration, something more than just physical. He has to hold you again in his arms-
He didn't even have to walk far away to find you, walking alone in the empty corridor but you turn around as you see him. Mattheo won't let you do that this time, he's onto you within seconds grabbing your wrist and pulling you back. "What-" "Please don't ignore me-" "I am not!" You sound defensive, taking your hand back, folding them as you look at him as though he is some lowlife human, there's a similar hurt in your eyes, one he knows a bit too well. "Yes you are, please don't try to deny it," he says slowly and carefully, he doesn't want you to walk away, "what do you want Mattheo?" You are annoyed, you stretch out his name showing your impatience. He takes his sweet time though, taking your hands in his, they feel cold, snatching away the warmthness of the action, "Why did you walk away? Yesterday?" "Why? Is there some rule against it-""no no ofcourse not-" both of you interrupting each other, you were frustrated, what was he trying to do? Did his ego take such a huge hit that you didn't want to sleep with him, like those girls he used and discarded? "Tell me why is it that you care? It's not a huge deal to you, you can have anyone else to sleep with you, it shouldn't matter that one girl decided to walk away when you have tens and hundreds lining up-" "WHAT?" He was looking at as though you were saying something ridiculous, "I cared about our relationship enough not to ruin it but you had to be there, trying to use me like you use the other girls and then discard me-" "STOP!" He holds your face in his hands, intense gaze setting you ablaze, "I fucking care, don’t think otherwise, I care because it's you, you could never be them-"
"wow- am I so worthless and unattractive in your eyes that you don't even-" "Wait, it should be me saying all of this, about you and the guys you on dates with, the guys you take to bed-" "What guys-" you both were now screaming at eachother, it was overwhelming, having to be vulnerable and admit your feelings and not understand what the person in front of you is saying. "I have not once slept with the guys I went on dates with, I'm in love with you for fucks sake but I got tired of waiting for you to love me," What.
He fucked up.
"Fuck, fuck-" his knees hit the ground as he covers his face with his hands, he's ruined all his chances by being an assuming dickhead. Heavens goodness- "FUCK!" He groans into his palms, not being able to digest what you had just said, he feels ecstatic that you love him but he hates that he's ruined his chances with you, "Mattheo-" "Fuck, I am so sorry, I've been a fool, a fucking idiot-" he pulls you down, grabbing your hands, crying because he doesn't know any other way to express it. He has lost his chance all because he let jealousy get the best of him, took illogical steps to overcome it. "I love you, I fucking am in love with you," he grips your hands tight, shaking them as he speaks, unable to control his very physical reaction, "Mattheo what-" "I thought that I could fuck it all out, fuck all the feelings away but no you were always on my mind, not just you but you with someone else, happy. I thought maybe I could resort to your ways, thought maybe I could sleep around then I'd get rid of my feelings, afterall you seemed happy doing it but you never- FUCK! I am so fucking sorry, I love you-" you kiss him, he sure was an idiot to think that you could just flip a switch and "unlove" him, what kind of love would that be? You hated to admit it, you loved him even when he was sleeping with so many girls, you loved him before he did that, a few weeks were nothing to make you hate him.
It was brief kiss, enough to silence him, tears were still running down his face- he was a heartbroken man on his knees afterall- they were only a sign of his regret, then he was at it again, apologising, "stop Mattheo, you are foolish if you think that I'll love one moment and not love you the next-" "but you don't deserve it, not after what I did-" "let me decide that. Do you love me?" Your ask is serious, so he answers you with utmost sincerity, his words soft, full of truth "I love you, more than I think I can handle," he looks down, you don't let him as you wrap your hands around his neck, pulling him close, "Learn to handle it then, I am not going anywhere." For the first time in his life, does Mattheo experience pure bliss, you are a sin against his lips, he pulls you closer like a prayer because if there's a god above, he'd pray for you to be his.
...
3K notes · View notes
Text
Any Time Of Day - Charles Leclerc
Summary: Charles finds his girlfriend doesn't need it to be night time for her to have a reason to sleep
Almost wrote this for Max. My top tier favourite fics are sleepy!reader fics, bc it is literally me. Might be slightly surprising at the speed I can roll fics out. But generally (so long as I'm not going through a rough patch) I can sleep for 8-9 hours a night then nap anywhere from 2-5 hours a day :D Looool
No part 2 requests please
Tumblr media
Charles has adapted pretty well to have a girlfriend who would choose sleep over just about everything else. Aside from him, though he's pretty sure she might places him equal to sleep.
As someone who loves playing piano, Charles will play and practice when he's home.
When he sits down y/n smiles moving up behind him and sliding her arms down around his neck before she kisses the top of his head through his hair.
"Any requests?" Charles asks making her smile, though he can't see it. He can sense it.
"Just something pretty." Y/n smiles then moving back and lying on the sofa, picking up her phone and hitting record on her voice notes since she likes to always record Charles' when he plays. Especially because it's like a lullaby for her and it's not surprise to Charles when he stops playing and turns to find her asleep.
Charles smiles moving and tapping the buttons for her phone to stop recording before he leans over stealing a kiss before pulling a blanket over her. She won't sleep for long, but she'll have a nap then call it a day.
What he doesn't really expect is for y/n to wake up as soon as he's sitting down on the simulator.
"Are you ok?" Charles smiles making her look at him with a slight pout. "Come on then."
Charles has learned to adapt to the distraction of his girlfriend sleeping on top of him while he's on the sim. He's almost certain it can't be as comfortable as sleeping on the sofa or in bed, or even just on top of him anywhere else.
But y/n just likes sleeping and she likes being within as close a proximity as possible with him.
She settles down on top of him again, heavy breath hitting his neck as she rests her head on his shoulder. He isn't the type to praise himself but he really does feel like there good reason to give himself some praise purely because he can manage pretty consistently fast lap times with his sleeping girlfriend on top of him.
He's just grateful she doesn't move and wriggle too much or get disturbed by his movements.
-
Y/n smiles greeting Joris and Andrea with a tight hug each, each of them picking up the young woman who has gained a but somewhat of a sister position with the two of them.
They get up into the private jet, Charles guiding y/n with his hands on her waist up into the cabin.
"You can lie down, cherie." Charles states making her smile brightly at him. But he knows she's not about to do as he suggested.
She nuzzles up to him, giving Joris the perfect opportunity to capture a few photos since Charles does love sharing pictures of his girlfriend just completely passed out on him.
He sort of lets her settle into a deeper sleep before he moves her to lie on the seat that's reclined back into a bed set up.
He keeps himself close to her, resting his hand on her ribs so he's somewhat hugging her with his arm.
"Do you ever wonder if she sleeps too much?" Andrea asks when there's a lull in conversation and Charles looks over to check that y/n is still asleep.
"I don't think so." Charles frowns in thought for a moment. "Her parents said she is this way. Before I met her and when she was a child. She just likes sleep."
"Maybe you should get some sleep." Andrea offers up making Charles look at him with a small smile.
"I think I will." Charles hums since the flight it one of the longer flights on the calendar.
Y/n grunts a little as she feels Charles nudge her so he can lie down with her, but she quickly senses his body down beside her own. Her arms wrap around Charles tightly while he returns the gestures, somehow managing to get to an angle that he places a kiss on her lips.
And despite him sleeping for quite a while by the time he wakes up, quite hot and maybe a little sweaty from the boiling temperature of y/n. She's very hot bodied, usually when she sleeps she seems to just get even hotter.
Some might think her slightly sweaty sleeping isn't very appealing but the way it makes her look ever so slightly disheveled by the sleep and heat.
"Cherie." Charles whispers while managing to reach for a water bottle. "Do you want a drink?"
Y/n lifts her head, raising her brows while her eyes are still closed as she wakes up before she slowly peaks her eyes open.
"Please." Y/n mumbles then sitting up and rubbing at her eyes with a big yawn while Charles sits up too and opens the water bottle.
"Here you go." Charles smiles handing her the bottle and taking the opportunity to tidy her hair for her a little.
She gulps down two thirds of the bottle before smiling when Charles takes the bottle from her.
"Good sleep?" Charles chuckles while noticing actually everyone else in the cabin is now asleep with headphones blocking out the noise.
"Yeah...how long do we have left?" Y/n yawns while Charles hums moving to check.
"Less than an hour." Charles smiles then sitting back and grinning at the young woman while she lies her head in his lap. "Are you going back to sleep?"
"No. I'm just comfy like this." Y/n murmurs with a yawn.
-
It's a surprise to no one in the team when they find y/n has fallen asleep on the counter that Charles keeps his helmets on. It's only testing in Bahrain so garage restrictions for non-team members isn't quite so monitored.
Y/n is holding his spare helmet on her stomach while Andrea keeps an eye on her just to make sure she doesn't move and drop the helmet or move and accidentally fall off the counter entirely.
"Hello? Is that Charles-yes, that's Charles Leclerc's girlfriend asleep in the back of his garage. Testing mustn't be thrilling enough for her to be paying attention." Ted laughs as he stands in front of the garage. "By the looks of things she's doing a very good job at guarding his spare helmet too."
"Testing isn't always the most exciting experience to her credit." Crofty states before they move on while Charles comes back into the garage.
He does out a couple more times before his session is done for the day and he smiles spotting y/n still soundly asleep as he steps on the scales to be weighed.
"Cherie, you need to wake up." Charles states after pulling off his helmet and balaclava. He reaches his hand out to gently rub her thigh making her squeak as she immediately begins to stretch making Charles and Andrea both make a grab to catch the spare helmet.
"Sorry." Y/n mumbles then sitting up and looking at Charles. "How'd it go?"
"The car feels good. Some things to work on. How much did you see?"
"I only feel asleep when we hit half way through the third hour...the engines are like white noise." Y/n mumbles earning a laugh from her boyfriend before he helps her get down. "I'm glad the car feels good, a better start than last year."
"Definitely. Come on, you need food and drink. I need to debrief."
Taglist: @namgification @hiireadstuff @jsjcue @geniusalpaca @itsjustkhaos @llando4norris @partyinpitlane @lpab @xoscar03
2K notes · View notes
fuckyeahgoodomens · 2 months
Text
David and Michael interview with Emily Aslanian for TV Insider, 10.7.2023 :)
David: So Gabriel shows up at Aziraphale's bookshop naked. He's lost his memory. Where does that leave our good heroes?
Michael: Well, Aziraphale, for someone who is of a slightly nervous disposition, for a naked... his ex boss to turn up outside his bookshop in Soho in the daytime, naked and wanting a hug, is not necessarily what Aziraphale had on his bingo card that day. But once he comes in and Aziraphale has to take him in, we discover that there is a mystery to be solved.
David: Yes.
Michael: And Aziraphale enjoys a mystery, but doesn't enjoy things like the end of the world or the stakes being that high.
David: He enjoys the mystery a little too much for Crowley's like.
Michael: He does a little bit.
David: Crowley just wants this sorted and he doesn't want you indulging your fantasy of being a private eye.
Michael: That's right, Aziraphale gets to really enjoy that. But they are forced, you know, they're a team of two now anyway, because they become detached from their respective head offices. But this forces them together even more. They've only got each other to rely on and they have to solve this mystery. And the clock is ticking. So it starts a whole chain of events that starts off potentially not being as high stakes as Season One. But as it goes along, we realise the apocalypse was just the beginning.
David: It was nothing! It was a mere bagatelle! How much time passes between Series One and Series Two. Do we know exactly?
Michael: I don't know exactly. But things have changed, obviously, between... I mean, Aziraphale is thoroughly enjoying himself. He's sort of got what he wanted, which is to be able to be in his bookshop, listen to music, watch shows, eat nice meals, drink wine, hang out with Crowley. He's a little disconcerted by not having the company behind him because he's such a company man. So that's a bit strange. But Crowley is...
David: It's not worked out quite so well for Crowley. He has the liberation of being free from Hell breathing down his neck. But he has lost the company apartment. So he is living in his car now with his pot plants. So circumstances are slightly reduced for him and he can't quite let go because we see him on a park bench catching up with Miranda Richardson's character Shax, who's taken over from him, trying to dig up a bit of gossip and find out what's really going on. So they have the freedom of not being watched over. But for Crowley, it's not worked out quite as well as perhaps he imagined.
Michael: What are they looking for in each other, I wonder?
David: In each other...
Michael: Well, I mean, I think, they sort of... on the surface, the things that annoy them the most about each other are actually what they are most compelled by.
David: Crave, yes, yes.
Michael: And so they’re sort of bound together, aren’t they? In all kinds of ways. I think Aziraphale is both infuriated and maddened and very stressed out by Crowley’s constant questioning of things. Things that Aziraphale thinks are just… those are the rules. Crowley being a sort of rule breaker and a rule bender, he finds incredibly stressful. And yet I think that’s sort of what he craves.
David: Drawn to.
Michael: He’s drawn to that.
David: Irrepressibly.
Michael: Yes.
David: Yes. And I think probably Aziraphale’s very consistency and very even-temperedness is something that Crowley kind of craves as well. There’s a sort of security in that which he doesn’t really get anywhere else. But, yes, they bicker away, but clearly with the security of a couple who know they can't really exist without each other. But I don't think... they never really admit what they are to each other. There's sort of understanding that they've only really got each other now, and therefore they rely on each other hugely. And, you know, as soon as Aziraphale is in trouble, he calls up Crowley to come and help him. There's no question there's...
Michael: Someone once said, what do any of us have but our illusions? And what do we ask of anyone but that we be allowed to keep them?
David: That's... who once said that? Should I not ask you that?
Michael: Don't ask me.
David: Don't ask you that.
Michael: Let me just say that.
David: It's lovely.
Michael: And sounds clever.
David: Michael Sheen once said something about illusions. It was really nice.
Michael: Whenever you hear someone say, 'A wise man once said', it's usually me.
David: It is usually you.
618 notes · View notes
drabblesandimagines · 24 days
Text
Cramped
Inspired by @creativepromptsforwriting prompt 1080! "I can't stop thinking about kissing you." "And what are you going to do about that?" Leon Kennedy x gn reader
Tumblr media
“I can’t do this.” Leon mutters under his breath, but you hear it as clear as day from your position.
How could you not, seeing as you’re currently only an inch away from his chest, his head nearly resting atop your own?
You’ve been trapped in this tiny storage cupboard for at least 20 minutes now, waiting for Hunnigan to give the all-clear that all 27 heat signals had dispersed from outside your current location. You would describe yourself as a relatively decent shot, Leon more so, but the numbers weren’t in your favour.
“Claustrophobic?” You whisper back, cautious that your voice may carry. You wish you could shift your left foot ever so slightly, currently standing awkwardly over a bucket that was sat at the bottom at the cupboard when you entered.
“No.” He has his hands braced either side of you against the opposite wall, seemingly caging you in more than the cupboard is. Your arms awkwardly hung by your side, painfully aware of how if you moved even slightly forward you’d be pressing your front into his chest, fingers ghosting against his hips.
“I can’t do this.” Leon says again. “Missions - with you.”
“Oh, come on,” you wish you could step back so you could give him a proper withering stare. “You can’t blame me every time something goes wrong. The intel definitely said only five guards were on site at any one time.”
“No. I mean, I…” He’d rub the bridge of his nose if he could bring his arm forward to do it without hitting you in the process. “I can’t concentrate.” You scoff, immediately defensive. “And how is that my fault?” “Because I can’t stop thinking about kissing you!” Silence. “Oh.” “Yes, oh.” He mocks, frustrated. He's meant to be better than this. Hell, he usually is when the two of you are paired up. Leon’s flirty, sure, but he knows to be professional when it’s a matter of life and death, and trapped in a cupboard with a number of hostiles outside is definitely a time when he should be at his most focused. But ever since the two of you retreated in here, all he can think about is how close you are, how good you smell, the warmth of your body pressed up against his, how he could place his fingers under your chin, tilt your head up… “Well, what are you going to do about it?”
“Sorry?” He looks down at you in disbelief, sure he’s misheard. “I said,” you lift your hand and trail your fingers up his chest before you rest it just above his pounding heart and meet those soft blue eyes. “What are you going to do about it?”
He doesn’t need a third invitation, dropping his hands from the wall. One arm wraps around your waist, bringing you needlessly forward that final inch, your left thigh finding its way between his in lieu of anywhere else to go. His other hands grabs the back of your head and tilts it up to meet his lips, stealing your breath with a deep, frantic kiss... Hunnigan smiles to herself as she leans back in her chair at HQ, your voices falling silent on the comms in what she suspects is the result of other activity – Leon had left the channel open when you'd been forced to find cover. It’s only when she hears Kennedy let out a muffled moan that she taps to disconnect the audio, her suspicions now well and truly confirmed. The computer screen in front of her shows a blueprint of the factory, where two red dots reside in the small storage cupboard she’d directed them to after she’d ‘alerted’ them to the unwelcome company. She still needs to work out how to explain the sudden disappearance of 27 hostiles, but it’s worth it so she won’t be forced to watch the two of you dance awkwardly around each other in the office anymore.
--- This is probably the closest to a drabble I've ever gotten despite my blog name, ha! Masterlist . Requests welcome . Commissions/Ko-Fi
PS: Thanks to @porcelainseashore for helping me clarify the ending <3
640 notes · View notes
hcmoeroticisms · 2 years
Text
.
0 notes
disneyprincemuke · 6 months
Text
the new hires * fem!driver
still skeptical about roaming by herself on a race weekend, oscar and logan pick her up from her garage before media commitments
pairings: oscar piastri x fem!driver, logan sargeant x fem!driver, sebastian vettel x fem!driver
warnings: nothing~
notes: i am really liking this so far! feel free to send in requests for this series and/or in general! requests are always open~ i hope you guys enjoy this hehe
(series masterlist) | (📂 the rookie season)
Tumblr media
she leans back on her race car, arms folded over her chest as she chews on the inside of her cheek. she stares at the concrete floor blankly, wondering when she get swept away from the garage.
the day has barely started. the garage only had a few engineers roaming around, and sebastian is absolutely nowhere to be found. which is why she's decided to hide in the comfort of her own garage.
oscar had texted her when she was making her way to the paddocks that he would pick her up when it was time for media commitments. but it's been 20 minutes since the agreed-upon time, and sebastian has now been kidnapped by other people for his big-boy meetings.
meetings that didn't involve her right now.
she can't handle the stares when she walks around the paddock, so she simply doesn't go anywhere on her own. she hushed whispers and judgemental stares always manage to get to her.
"oi!" a familiar accent catches her off guard. she stands up straight and turns towards the exit of the garage, finding the two taller boys waving her towards them.
"we're gonna be late, let's go," logan laughs, hurrying her to get to them. "we can't be late — we're the new hires."
“you’re the new hires,” oscar mutters, pointing between the two as he sucks in a sharp breath. “i was here last here.”
"then you shouldn't have taken so long to pick me up," she mutters. she jogs over to the two other rookies and smiles widely. "thanks for picking me up, though."
"you wouldn't have made it there on your own otherwise," oscar shrugs. he pulls her in for a side hug and a kiss to the crown of her head. “what’s a 2023 rookie round-up video for if it’s just logan and i?”
“but it wouldn’t wind up to that because you picked me up,” she states, narrowing her eyes down into a judgemental stare. “duh?”
when he pulls away, she hops over to logan and greets him with a hug. he gives her a kiss on the cheek before they start walking around the lane of garages to get to the paddocks.
"so, did you finally buy your first car over the break, (y/n)?" oscar begins as he shoves his phone into his pocket. he leans forward slightly to get a look at her face with a raise of his eyebrow. "don't tell me you haven't."
logan turns his head to the side, glancing at the girl walking next to him. "by the looks of it, she hasn't."
"well, you guys keep saying i should get a supercar," she explains, lifting her hands up in the air, "but i just want a functioning car that i shouldn't have to overthink in while i'm driving."
which is exactly why she's put off buying her car for months. now that she's a somewhat prominent public figure, everyone's been telling her she should get a car that speaks for her career.
but she doesn't want an expensive car that she has to truly overthink. she doesn't need a car that would stress her out if she were to climb a curb or hit a wall.
think how expensive that would be for her.
not to say that she's a bad driver. she just prefers an easy car.
"dude, you've been talking about that car for years!" oscar throws his head back, rolling his eyes before throwing a glare her way. "you can't tell me we listened to all your yapping about a milestone car when you get into formula 1 only for you to not... get one."
"give it time," she scowls, waving oscar off.
"well, it at least better be a cute car," logan mutters with a scoff. "or else i'd be quite disappointed i waited this long for you to get a car that isn't you."
"i don't need a car, anyway," she answers breathily. "you guys drive me around plenty. my license is only good for the track, it seems."
“we won’t be around forever to drive you around. we’re not together all the time,” logan scoffs. he lifts his arm up and rests it on her shoulder as they walk.
“well, when you do happen to be around, you will,” she scoffed, pushing his arm off her shoulder. “and stop doing that — just your arm is heavy enough!”
“i know, that’s why it was on your shoulder.”
“logan!”
“what?”
“knock it off,” oscar scoffs, pushing himself between them. “you’ll attract the cameras if you’re going to be like.” he turns to her. “do you want that?”
she quickly shuts her mouth and stands a little straighter. she looks straight ahead and presses her lips together. “you got me there.”
“i know,” oscar mutters, glaring at her.
“hey, you’re not kidnapping my driver, are you?” sebastian’s voice halts their footsteps, making them turn around at the same time comically. “i need her for the race on sunday.”
she scowls at her mentor. “yes, cause i’m walking with them in the paddocks unwillingly.” she puts a hand on her chest and the other on her forehead. she runs over to sebastian, faking a sob. “my knight in shining armour, thank you for saving me from these bad bad men!”
“hey!” logan grips her wrist before she can get any further. “we’re going to be late!”
sebastian raises an eyebrow. he looks confused at first but it slowly carves into realisation why the three of them are out and about together. “oh. f1 media commitments?”
“official crew and all,” oscar shrugs with a small smile. his eyes follow logan and her, gently exhanging smacks on each other’s arms as they hurl insults at one another.
“oh, alright,” sebastian laughs before briefly turning away from them. “have her back in my garage on time! with no scratches, preferably. we have a meeting with the team later.”
“i’ll try, but she keeps hitting me!” logan answers, landing a firm shove on her shoulder.
she’s barely moved, only taking a small step back to regain her balance. she gasps at his action, “don’t make me bite you.”
“okay, cut it out,” oscar laughs. he walks away, leaving the two behind. which would be a problem seeing that they don’t actually know where the filming setup is. “i’m leaving.”
“see, he left us because you’re being annoying,” she grumbles, landing one last hit on logan’s shoulder. she jogs to catch up with oscar, who has walked away quite a fair bit from them.
“i’m only taking inspiration from you.”
“oh, shut up.”
Tumblr media
taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse (comment to be added)
1K notes · View notes
brbsoulnomming · 9 months
Text
Tell Me Sweet Little Lies Part 1
By the time Eddie is twelve, going to live with his uncle in a trailer in Hawkins, he only has a dozen or so words from his soulmate.
It used to make him guilty, that his soulmate was the kind of person who rarely lied, getting stuck with Eddie who spit lies out like they were the shells of sunflower seeds. Then it made him angry, that he only had a handful of shit like he did it! and I already washed my hands. A small spattering of normal kid shit, while Eddie had to say things like no, officer, I don't know where my father is and Mom's just not feeling well today, Mrs. Anderson.
Then, a year or so before his dad got caught for good, he got It's nothing, I just tripped and Yeah, Mom, I understand, I know he won't do it again and he thought - maybe his soulmate is the kind of kid who knows sometimes it's just better not to say anything.
Eddie can understand that.
Living with Uncle Wayne is - hard. It's hard because it isn't hard, not the way it should be. It makes Eddie say more things that he knows his soulmate will see on his skin, things like I never wanted to be here anyway, and I want to be alone, just leave me alone.
His uncle is endlessly patient, and it grates on his nerves because he wants it. He wants it so bad to be real, but he just - keeps waiting for the other shoe to drop, for something to be too much.
For Eddie to be too much for him.
It comes to a head one night when Eddie's mad at him over something or other, asks why he's doing all this.
"You're my kid, and that means I'm not going anywhere," his uncle says, all gruff and raw honesty, and Eddie can't bear it.
"You don't think your soulmate's going to get tired of all these lies that keep showing up?" he snaps, even though he regrets it the moment it's out of his mouth.
He regrets it even more when there's a heavy, aching silence, and he finally looks up at his uncle, eyes wide and terrified as he thinks this is it, he's finally gone too far -
"It's not a lie," Uncle Wayne says finally, holding Eddie's gaze. "You hear me? It's not a lie. I'm not going anywhere."
Eddie nods, and his uncle relaxes a little, then grimaces, like he isn't sure he wants to say anything else.
"I don't have anyone for lies to show up on, anyway."
He says it like it doesn't matter, but Eddie bursts into tears anyway.
Not everyone has a soulmate. The majority of people do, but it's not uncommon for people to never have words written on their skin. In school, they teach that it doesn't mean you can't be happy, it doesn't mean you can't find love. They teach about soulmate bonds that didn't work out - there's whole plays and novels and movies written about that kind of tragedy and misery, after all.
But sometimes there's still an undercurrent of pity, of bitterness. Outside of school - or inside it, when it isn't the teachers talking - some people say there's something wrong with people who don't have soulmates, some people say that they were meant for bigger and greater things.
Some people say that soulmates are supposed to be between a man and a woman, and every time someone who's queer gets a soulmate, it's because they stole them from someone else.
And Eddie doesn't believe that, not really, but he can't help but wonder if maybe his uncle does, and he can't stop crying.
Now his uncle is the one who looks terrified.
"Son, come here, it's all right, it really is." Uncle Wayne gathers him up in his arms, holds him close the way no one's ever done for him before, and just lets him cry and cry and cry.
Later, Eddie thinks about just letting it go, but - he has to know, he just does.
"Do you think someone stole your soulmate from you?" he asks as he's washing dishes, not looking at his uncle and hoping it doesn't sound anything like do you think someone like me stole your soulmate from you?
Uncle Wayne scowls. "That's a load of horseshit, is what I think. No one can control whether they have one soulmate or two or none, and it doesn't make someone greedy or a thief."
Eddie opens his mouth, then closes it again. He's known about people with two soulmates before, of course, the same way he knows about people with none - and he's heard the comments about them being greedy same as he's heard comments about them being lucky, or a dozen other things people've theorized to explain it. It's just that it doesn't really tell him what he'd wanted to know, and he can't figure out how to ask without being more specific.
Uncle Wanye is looking at him real close, though, and there's something like a quiet acceptance that flashes over his features.
"No one can control who their soulmate is," he says softly. "Whoever yours is - they were meant for you in a way they aren't meant for anyone else. Love like that can't be stolen, kid, it can only be given."
He thinks about that for a long moment, then nods. "Okay."
"Good," his uncle says gruffly. "Now finish those up and get off to bed."
------
First part of a Steddie and platonic Stobin soulmates AU I'm working on, where any lie you tell gets written on your soulmate! No idea how long this is going to be - it was supposed to be a oneshot but it just keeps growing, so I wanted to share at least the first bit of it.
Now with Part 2
1K notes · View notes
ddejavvu · 8 months
Note
Hi!! So I saw your post for Anakin request and I thought of one. Remember that scene where Anakin and Obi wan go in a club? So I was thinking that scene with Reader and Anakin seeing Reader getting hit on and his being a little jelly. Reader gotta remind him that its him that she wants
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Debilitating Desire - Anakin Skywalker x Reader (18+)
Summary: Anakin doesn't handle jealousy well. When a sleazy patron of a bar you're investigating decides he's got the right to touch you, and Anakin can't react because your relationship is a secret, he has to save his outburst for later. Unfortunately, he's only able to make it a few steps down the street before he decides he needs you, right here, right now.
Contents/Warnings: jedi!reader, fem!reader, smut (minors dni), p in v, rough sex, biting, overstimulation, semi-public sex (they're in an alleyway), jealousy, reader gets grabbed by the wrist by a creepy guy </3, lots and lots of messy kisses, anakin's a little possessive but is anyone surprised
WC: 5.2K / navigation / inbox / send me anakin requests!
feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!
Tumblr media
Scouting information from bartenders is next to impossible, but scouting it from their patrons is much easier. Loose-lipped drunks are your targets tonight, and you reconvene with Anakin to corroborate information after gathering intel.
"Okay, I've got a Twi'lek male," You start, and Anakin shakes his head.
"No, no, one of the men I talked to said he was Neimoidian."
"Someone else said Rodian," You groan, "Anakin, maybe we should be asking people who aren't drunk."
"Look around," The man before you scoffs, gesturing to the bar full of nothing but reeling, wobbly drunks, "No one here is sober but him."
"He doesn't have a translator on hand," You drawl, looking at the Ithorian bartender who purposefully 'forgets' his translator whenever someone tries questioning him, "And we don't either."
"We're not getting anywhere," Anakin concludes, a sour scowl on his face as he reaches for your waist to lead you out. "No one's sober, so let's just go, and-"
"I'm sober." A raspy, near-hoarse voice comes from a table nearby, and a hand catches your wrist. Your instinct is to reel back but you don't, even when Anakin's hand tries prying you away with its gloved grip on your waist.
It's a human speaking to you, as far as you can tell, and he's leaning back into the shadowy corner of the bar that he'd been occupying. You're not sure for how long, but if he knows anything about the incident you're trying to gather intel on, you'd like to hear it.
"How long have you been here, sir?" You question, tensing slightly when the man's hand stays firm around your wrist.
"Couple hours," He looks smug, knowing he's holding prized information from two Jedi, "Something you'd like to ask me?"
"You've been here for a couple hours and you're sober?" Anakin questions, pressing you harder into his side in his futile attempt to casually tear you away from the man, "I don't believe that."
"I can hold my liquor," The man boasts, voice far more harsh when addressing Anakin than yourself, "Among other things."
Anakin's had enough. He grabs your hand, stealing it away from the seedy man's grasp and scoffing something unintelligible at him. But you yank him back, a tense smile on your face as you tilt your head towards him urgently.
"I'd like to find out what he knows," You speak forcefully, leaving no room for argument even if Anakin is especially good at creating them.
He scowls at you with an intensity that would normally excite you, though you're not sure you're capable of any feeling other than creeped in the bar you're standing in now.
"You're welcome to go back to the transport if you'd like," You narrow your eyes at Anakin, and the man in the booth leans back smugly at the offer, "But I'm going to do my job."
"Yes, boy," The man disregards Anakin's hands clenching at his sides, "Go back to your ship. You're not needed."
"I'm fine here," Anakin snaps, and the second you sit down across from the man, his hands are on your shoulders as he stands behind you. He grips them tight but the gloved hand clenches just a little more into your skin, and the firm grip grounds you, keeping your voice steady when you speak.
"If you've been here for a couple of hours, you probably witnessed an unfortunate incident a little while ago, didn't you? A fight?"
"There's lots of fights here," The man hums, pretending to think on it, "Can you be more specific?"
"The victim had seven blaster wounds," Anakin seethes, hands only tightening in their grip on your shoulders, "You happen to hear seven blasts?"
"Eight." You mutter, pointing at a singed hole in the wall, "One missed."
"Ah, blaster fight," The man in front of you strokes a hand thoughtfully along his stubbled jaw, "Yeah, 'think I can remember something like that. Some incentive might help jog me a bit, though."
You're not sure whether he means money or sex, but you can't rule either out with the way he's staring. You'd have expected the modest Jedi robes you're wearing to deter any wandering eyes but evidently, some people can't be discouraged.
"We don't have any incentive to offer," You narrow your eyes at him, and Anakin takes over.
"Unless by incentive you mean your life. Tell us what you saw, or you'll envy the target of those blasts."
Your annoyance boils just beneath your skin at Anakin's threats, but you know he won't listen to your urgings to be more careful with his word choice. This man doesn't exactly seem like he'd file a formal complaint with the Jedi Council, but if word ever got around that Anakin was threatening unnecessary violence, you're sure it wouldn't go over well.
Despite Anakin's words having been nothing but a bluff, the man changes his tune when he notices the saber clipped to Anakin's belt, your own hidden beneath the edge of the table. He straightens in his seat, sighing in annoyance, "It was two Neimoidians. Dressed real fancy, stood out like sore thumbs in this place. They cornered some unlucky human over there," He points to the corner of the bar where the singe mark hangs over the cheap decor, "She tried to run, but a Rodian shot her down."
"One Rodian?" You ask, and the man nods.
"Hell of a shot." The man muses with a gnarled grin, and that only makes you more worried. Hell of a shot but he'd fired eight? Clearly they wanted this human - who you have good reason to believe was an undercover informant working against the Separatists - dead.
"The shooter and the Neimoidians were working together?" Anakin confirms, receiving another nod from the man opposite you.
"Thank you," You stand, and to your delight, Anakin's hands snake down your back, the strong, gloved one finding your waist again like a magnet.
"I'm here most nights," The man calls out before you can leave, and you turn to glance at him in disdain as he props his feet up onto the dingy table, "Love to see 'ya off duty, sweetheart."
"Go," Anakin spits against your ear, grip on your waist turning harsh. Your breath hitches and you let Anakin practically push you out of the bar and onto the streets, teeming with civilians until you duck into an alleyway three blocks down from the door.
You're immediately backed up against the wall of the building behind you, but you're too fired up to care as you glare at Anakin, "Don't start with me. Threatening him, Anakin? What if Obi-Wan found out?"
"Obi-Wan is going to be too busy tracking down those Neimoidians to care how we got it out of the guy," Anakin scoffs and the exasperated breath hits your face. His expression only darkens further at the mention of the older man, "That's not the point. Did you see the way he was looking at you?"
"That doesn't matter," You assure Anakin with a soft sigh, but from the distasteful curl of his lips into a hard sneer, it does matter. He's standing tall in front of you with ragged, angry breaths coming from his chest, brows furrowed and jaw clenched as he tries containing his upset. It's not aimed at you, of course, but it's a sight nevertheless. He's all sharp features and tense muscles, rage brewing inside of him that's sure to spill over if you don't turn down the heat in time.
"Men like that are creeps," You dismiss, but Anakin is much less eager to let the situation go, still pressing you against the wall of the dingy alleyway, "Women don't talk to him unless he pays them to, is it any surprise he was forward when I approached him for free?"
"But you gave him no indication-" Anakin gushes, poorly-contained rage grating at his rough voice, "I don't understand. I don't understand how I'm supposed to be yours, how you're supposed to be mine, if people like him think you're theirs for the taking."
"It doesn't matter what he thinks, he can't have me, Anakin." You assure him. You know it's hard for him, being secretive about your relationship. Anakin is highly devoted, to his work, to his training, but most of all to you, and to have to stuff that down whenever you're not alone grates on his nerves.
Your answer doesn't seem to persuade him, so you brace your hand against his rapidly rising and falling chest, "He can't have me because I'm yours, Anakin."
Whatever hateful haze has clouded over his eyes clears like fog as he blinks at your words, probably muscling down hot tears of frustration. He surges forwards to kiss you, and it's hard to be upset that you're pressed against a dirty wall when Anakin's mouth is on your own.
His kisses are fervent and desperate, lips relentlessly catching your own between them. They're sloppy as his hands find your waist like there's magnets in your blood, his palms oppositely charged.
"I want you," He pleads, voice rough and ragged, "I want you all the time. I wanted to take your hand in there. I wanted to take more than your hand," He pants, speaking against your lips that have grown dewy from his saliva. "I wanted to grab your jaw-" He mimics the action, gloved hand clenching at your chin, "And- and kiss you, and bend you right over his table and take you."
"Right in his face," Anakin grunts, and you feel his cock beginning to stiffen through the layers of his robes as he presses himself to you. "Right in his fucking face, angel, I wanted to have you."
"You have me now," You breathe, equally as lustful as you press sticky kiss after sticky kiss to Anakin's tense jawline, "Ani, you have me now, and you have me forever."
"Forever," He groans, and you can see his eyes dilate at the thought. He's perpetually breathless as he chooses to spend his oxygen by kissing you once more. It's all heavy pants and strings of drool, appropriate for the dark, damp alleyway you're hidden in; a dirty fuck for a dirty place.
"Anakin," You moan, your pussy pulsing as his tongue smooths over your top lip, "I need you, here-" Your words muffle as Anakin licks flat over your lips, practically drinking the words out of your mouth, "-here and now. I know it's dirty, but I- I need it. I need you. Please?"
"Say it again," He orders, kissing you so that you can't.
You have to speak while he's still dragging his thick, wet tongue over yours, "I need you."
"More," He presses, his nose now nudging at your cheek as he tilts his head, granting himself only deeper access to your warm mouth.
"I need you," You vow, words garbled as he never backs away from your mouth, "Anakin, I need you."
"You have me," He groans, reveling in the pleasure that your words bring him. His hips roll compulsively against yours, grating through the many layers of robes you're both clad in like he can't stop them if he tries. "And I have you. Angel, I've got you, come here."
He says it like you're trying to leave, like you're not smashed flat between him and a wall. But you try anyways, slinging your hand around his neck to drag him in closer.
Anakin was focused on undoing your belt, but when you pull him close with your arm wrapped behind his neck he pauses, eyes closing as he knocks his forehead against yours.
"Ani-"
"He touched you," Anakin remembers, reaching up to take your wrist in his hand. He holds it delicately, bringing it between your faces to kiss the soft skin against the inside, "He grabbed you. He touched you right here," He peppers more soft kisses against your wrist, "Did he hurt you?"
"No," You hum softly, lips still slick with Anakin's spit, "It was just creepy, that's all. It didn't hurt."
"I'm sorry. I love you," He tells the skin of your wrist, and your hand naturally fits against his cheek, your fingertips ghosting over his ear.
"I love you," You repeat him, and his eyes flit back to your own.
"I love you." He rushes in for another kiss, this one just as desperate as the last. His tongue probes freely through your mouth, he's always been good with it, and your cunt clenches around nothing as Anakin's hands slide back to your waist. This time he lets you sling both of your arms around his neck, shuddering into the kiss when your nails scrape up the baby hairs at the base of his neck.
"Fuck," He groans against your mouth, fingers tugging more desperately now on the belt that he's so accustomed to putting on and taking off. Finally he undoes the buckle, letting it slide down to your ankles. You feel dirty as you hear the clatter of your saber against the ground; you're getting stripped and fucked in a dingy alleyway. But It releases the waistband of your pants, and shame gives way to pleasure as Anakin pries eagerly at the clasp.
"Touch me," You beg, and he's one step ahead of you. His hand presses flat to your belly as he snakes it down your pants, his warm skin pressed flush to your slit as he cups your needy cunt. You feel slick gathered in your pussy, and you're sure if he slips two fingers inside, it'll gush over his digits.
"You're warm," He murmurs, and you're not sure whether he means the spit he's lapping from your mouth, or the way your cunt bleeds heat against his palm. Either way, you know he likes it as his hips buck into your own again, pressing his hand further against your pussy.
"Ani," You feel his bulge through the layers of clothing he's sporting, still dragging him impossibly further with your arms around his neck, practically smashing his face into yours. "Ani, I need you inside, please?"
"I'll take care of you," He promises, kissing sweetly across your jaw, and down to your neck, "Angel, I want you to touch me."
"Hm?" Your brain is dazed, comprehending little as Anakin rolls his palm against your clit.
"Use this hand," He reaches for the one that the man inside had grabbed, "Use this hand, angel, and touch me with it. Get me hard, use the hand he touched."
"Okay," You breathe, scrambling for his belt and letting him help you with the hand that's not down your pants. A part of you is worried someone will see the two of you, but halfway disrobed and shrouded in shadow, you're not recognizable as Jedi, nor are these streets ever free from filth; you blend right in.
When Anakin's belt is undone he lets it fall just like your own had, and you gratefully slip your hands beneath the tunic it had been holding down. You have easy access to his pants now, and slipping your hand inside like he's doing to you means you're met with a half-hard dick.
"You're leaking," You observe, as precum oozes from the head of his cock. You smear it around the tip with your thumb, and his hips jerk into your hand. It's an awkward angle that you're at, stroking his dick while he cups your pussy in the palm of his hand, but it's apparently not uncomfortable to him, because with each pump of your fingers around the length of his cock, it hardens in your grip.
"Oh- fuck, get it- get it messy," He pants, straining as he tries not to cum right then and there at the sight of his pre smeared over your hand.
It's hard not to get it messy. His sticky precum oozes from the head of his dick like a steady stream, beads and beads of the stuff smeared away by your hand to help lubricate the measured strokes you're pumping over his dick.
Your fingers are soon tacky with precum, and his dick makes obscene squelching noises as you run your fist down it. He's panting as his palm grinds hard against your clit, and your hips snap into his hands, moving your entire body forwards. It means your fist slides roughly, sharply straight down to the base of his cock, and he bites back a hiss at the slight pain you've inflicted upon him.
"Now," He breathes rough and ragged, "I need you now. Maker, I'm gonna fucking-" He cuts himself off with a grunt, the hand that's cupping your wet heat flipping and twisting to yank the waistband of your pants down. It catches you by surprise, and the tantalizingly small amount of friction you'd been able to gain while grinding against his palm is gone, leaving the cool air of Coruscant's dingy lower levels to shock you.
"Put it in," He orders, his head downturned, forehead pressed against your own, "Baby, put- get me inside of you, I need-to-be-inside-of-you- there y'go."
You use your fist to line up his cock with your needy entrance, his hips more than willing to close the distance to make it easier for you. You don't get a second to adjust to the heavenly feeling of his tip brushing against your folds before he's jackhammering into you, chest now pressed tightly to your own as he slams you once more against the wall.
You let out a garbled scream as you're instantly full, the pace Anakin sets absolutely merciless on your sloppy cunt. You're well wet enough to provide lubrication for his lengthy cock, but just because you're wet doesn't mean you're ready, and the sensation of him bypassing any cautious thrusts and heading right into jackrabbit territory is one that has you crying out.
"Scream," Anakin hisses, his teeth digging harshly into your plush bottom lip. He licks over the stinging bite mark seconds later, the wet muscle sweeping over your own, "Scream as loud as you can, angel. I want him to hear. Tell him," He pulls away from your mouth only to wrestle your face to the side, his gloved hand gripping tight at your jaw.
"Tell him," Anakin urges, kissing and licking sticky stripes up your neck, "Tell that miserable old creep who makes you scream. Tell him who you love, tell him who fucks you into the wall."
"A- Ani-" You try, but it's not good enough for the man still relentlessly pounding his hips against yours. His free hand is gripping the pliant flesh of your ass with a force that surely means your chub is spilling through his fingers, and he uses the grip to hike your leg up, giving him a better angle to destroy your drooling cunt from.
"Louder. Say it louder." Anakin demands, forcing your jaw open with his hand, "Tell him!"
It's terribly difficult to power through the rather attention-grabbing sensation of Anakin's rock-hard cock bullying your wet cunt. He's rougher than he needs to be, balls slapping hard against the flesh of your ass that he's got in his hold.
But you have to try, and with an embarrassingly loud, desperate pitch to your voice, you scream, "Anakin!"
The second his name comes spilling from your lips in a wanton cry he manhandles your face back towards him, jamming his lips over your own.
"Maker," He growls, "You're so fucking perfect. I tell you to scream my name and you do it," He revels in your obedience, tongue licking a hot, wet stripe over your mouth. He holds it open with his fingers pinched into your cheeks but he doesn't venture inside, merely flattening his tongue over your stinging, swollen lips to leave a drooly residue behind. Only once you've been marked does he delve his tongue between your lips, licking at your own like it's his last meal.
"You're so good for me," His words slur together in their intensity, voice thick and raw with obsession, "Nngh, you're so-" You reach down, barely able to coordinate enough brainpower to take his balls into your hand, massaging them as best you can while his hips piston in and out of you at record pace, "-you're so good to me, Angel. More, give me- more, I want more." He begs, the words spilling over your tongue. He grabs tighter at the flesh of your ass, surely bruising the skin and leaving you sore tomorrow.
"Ah! Anakin," You cry, the feeling of his tongue lapping at your own and swapping spit until there's pools of it around your teeth sending a pulse of electricity straight to your core that makes it throb. Anakin feels your cunt convulse, only pushing his tongue further into your mouth. He's a presence; every part of his body is touching every part of your body. He's all-consuming, he's an enigma, he's yours.
Anakin fucks you harder and faster than ever before. All of his strength training must have done wonders because you can't fathom how he's able to generate that much power this fast, but his hips ram into you while his gloved hand releases your ass to pinch at your clit. He abuses the sensitive bud, pinching and rolling it between his fingers to coax more convulsions out of your sticky cunt.
It works.
The pressure that Anakin presses around your clit lights a live wire of hot, heavy arousal that trails up your spine, heat flowing from where Anakin is still latched onto your shoulder right down to your throbbing core. All of a sudden it's too much, everything is too much, and you feel your orgasm hit you like a speeder, knocking the breath out of your lungs as white hot pleasure burns at your cunt. It's a sensation that splatters firework-worthy bliss from your head to your toes, and your thighs tremble as Anakin fucks you through what might be the most intense, violent orgasm of your life.
"Anakin!" You scream.
Everything he does is rough, from the way his teeth nip at your lips, to the way he's trying to suck your tongue down his throat, to the way his fingers bully your puffy clit, to the way the head of his cock pounds into you with enough force to bruise. It's rough, it's messy, it's aggressive, and it's wonderful. You've never felt such pure jealousy radiating off of Anakin before, and you think it's because you've never been able to indulge him so soon after his jealousy blooms. If he's wary of someone in the temple you have to wait until nightfall to fuck, and if the incident occurs any time before dinner he's more mellow when he finally has you. But now it's fresh, now the brand of raging jealousy is still sizzling against his brain, and he's pumping all of the residual heat straight into you.
"Kriff," He grunts, nearly biting the tip of your tongue as he tries latching onto your lower lip, "Cum. Fuck yeah, angel- angel cum for me, cum- aagh! Cum on my dick," He demands, and you couldn't deny his request if you tried. Your pussy clenches wildly around his cock, convulsing with the force of your orgasm and you claw at his back, regretful that you hadn't stripped off his shirt so that you could scratch up his skin.
All too soon the effects of Anakin's pacing and strength flip a switch, and you're twitching in overstimulation added to your bliss. There's a distinct stinging sensation that's now alongside - and possibly contributing to - your residual ecstasy. The ache is a product of Anakin's sharp thrusts, but his movements are getting sloppy, and all the while he spills obscenities in drool over your tongue.
"You're mine. Gonna fucking cum in you, gonna make you mine, gonna- aah!" He rambles, words and spit alike spilling hastily from his mouth and into your own as he struggles to keep himself steady. He's jackhammering into you so fast that you think he could knock you right through the wall if he tried. You're plastered against it, head thrown back and chest heaving as you try not to collapse under the intense amount of sensation you're receiving.
"Ani," You grip at his biceps, dragging one hand up his left arm and digging your nails into his scalp, "Ani- cum, please cum! Please," You whimper, not sure if you're begging because you need the delicious sensation of his release painting your insides, or because you might pass out if your cunt gets fucked by Anakin's stupidly big cock much more than it has been already, "Please cum!"
"You want me to cum?" He asks, a dreadful rasp to his voice as he ravages your mouth. He bites at your tongue, latches on with his teeth like a wild animal and digs them into the squirming muscle until your saliva runs hot, "You want me to cum in you, angel? You want me to fill you up- stuff you 'til you're leaking?"
"Yes," You moan, one hand still clutching his arm while the other tugs at the base of his curls, "Yes, fuck Anakin, please, I need you to give me your cum! I need your cum, please!"
"You need my cum," He revels, a growl lacing the edge of his voice that sends perpetual shivers down your spine, "You fucking need me. Wish that creep could see you now. Fucked stupid, begging for my cum. Beg for it again, baby. Beg for my cum."
"I need it!" You cry, desperate as you yank tighter at his hair, "Anakin, please, I need it!"
All of a sudden he's no longer invading your mouth, his own latching tightly to your shoulder as he sinks his teeth into you.
"Take it," He grunts gruffly against your skin as he latches onto it, dick finally twitching before spurting hot, thick globs of cum into your spent cunt. Nothing is more gratifying than the feeling of Anakin biting at your shoulder while his hips fuck his cum relentlessly into you, and you're sure you'll be sore all over tomorrow morning. He's letting out the filthiest, most obscene string of grunts against your shoulder as his teeth barely avoid breaking your skin, and though your limbs shake with overstimulation your body doesn't move because it's in his strong grip.
The feeling of him cumming inside of you is like a second orgasm of your own. It's not really a release for you, you haven't cum twice, but Anakin's warm cum flooding your core and squelching as he jerks his hips through his climax feels almost as satisfying as if you were the one cumming. His grunts and growls slowly fade as he comes down from his monumental orgasm, and when he unlocks his jaw from around your shoulder, he leaves behind a ring of teeth marks and a sheen of drool on your skin.
"Kriff," He pants, chest heaving and dick softening as he slumps against you. You're not ready for his added weight, but the little strength he has left is used to hold you upright, so you don't flatten beneath his frame.
"Are you okay?" He hums, lips moving lazily against your neck. They're still wet with spit, and you feel the stuff cooling on your skin.
"I'm okay," You decide, "But- but I don't think I can walk, Ani."
You feel him smile, hear him huff out a laugh even though his eyes are drooping, "I'm sorry. I- It's like I couldn't control myself," He admits, breath fanning warm and wet against your neck, "Not after seeing him grab you."
"I know," You stroke a gentle hand through his sweaty curls, happy to be close to him now that your veins aren't pumping lust through your entire system.
"If Obi-Wan asks," Anakin straightens up, his limbs surprisingly strong for how aggressively he'd fucked you, "You got shoved around by a nasty patron, okay? We'll say they caught you by surprise when you were trying to talk to the bartender."
"Okay." You nod, letting him do all of the work in retrieving your belts from the ground and securing yours around your waist. He hooks his own tightly, his saber thankfully unharmed from being dropped.
"Come here," He holds his arms out, but you barely move to help him scoop you up. He does the lifting on his own, letting you sling your spent arms around his neck and laze your head against his shoulder.
Anakin makes it out of the alleyway, but when he should turn left towards your speeder, he veers right.
"Anakin," You frown, lifting your head wearily to see him approaching the bar again, "Anakin, our speeder's the other way."
"I want you to talk to him," His voice is firm, not much of its honey-sweetness left that had been there after you'd fucked in the dingy alleyway, "I want you to stand there, while I hold you up, and I want you to inform him he'll be questioned by the Jedi Council about what he saw. I want you to lie to him while my cum drips down your legs, angel." He murmurs, his words impossibly filthy even for the setting you're in, "Can you do that?"
"He won't be examined by the Council," Your hazy brain struggles to keep up, "What do you mean?"
"Lie to him." Anakin repeats, eyes slightly darker than they usually are, "Make him afraid while your pussy leaks my cum."
"Okay," You nod willingly, letting Anakin brace your feet on the ground with one of your arms slung over his shoulder to lead you into the bar. Your legs are shaky, you look a mess, but you could be perceived as someone coming away from a nasty fight, so you hold your head high and try to control your thoughts.
"There," Anakin murmurs, spotting the old man where he's already watching you from the corner, "Do it, angel."
Anakin leads you over, stopping short in front of the man's table so that he can't touch you again. He looks pleased at your return, albeit confused as to why you're a mess.
"The Jedi Council wants to speak with you," You recite obediently as the man's eyes widen slightly in apprehension. You can already feel the slow trickle of Anakin's thick cum leaking down your thighs now that you're upright, and it almost distracts you from what you're saying. "They want to know your role in the fight, and what you observed if that's truly all you did. They suspect that you might be working against the Republic, and-"
"I'm not talking to the Jedi Council," The man's face curls into a sneer and his voice is gruff, but not pleasantly so, like Anakin's. He stands from his seat rather uncoordinatedly and bolts for the door, surely expecting you to chase after him. But you don't, you couldn't if you tried, and Anakin gathers you back into his arms.
"Good." He hums, resisting the urge to kiss your forehead for fear of outing your relations, 'You did good, angel. I'm proud of you."
"We'll have to sneak into the temple without interception," You plan as your head rests once more on Anakin's shoulder. He navigates the crowded bar perfectly with you in his arms, and this time he turns towards your speeder like he's supposed to. "Obi-Wan will be waiting for us, but you can tell him to gather the Council, that way we'll have time to clean up."
"Oh, no." Anakin's chuckle is dark as he lowers you into the seat of your speeder. He kisses at your forehead, strokes away a bead of sweat at your hairline, "No, angel. You'll speak to the Council the same way you spoke to that lowlife. With my cum dripping down your thighs."
Tumblr media
feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!
2K notes · View notes
pancake-breakfast · 9 months
Text
I think chapter 2 of TriMax Volume 6 might just be my favorite thus far. Everything in it hinges on this one iconic scene.
Tumblr media
This isn't the first time Wolfwood has pointed a gun at Vash's head. Maybe it won't even be the last. But it holds a bit more weight here because just a few pages ago, we saw a flashback where Wolfwood pointed his gun at someone else's head.
Tumblr media
His hand shakes as he aims at Knives. His breath is heavy, and the memory of the Fifth Moon incident is fresh in his mind. He knows if he can just pull the trigger, he can end it here. This being of destruction will be gone, and maybe this time his fancy scientists won't be able to bring him back.
But then Knives does Plant things, and under the weight of it Wolfwood finds he just can't follow through. He fears his own death too much, and Knives will surely kill him.
Tumblr media
When he points his gun at Vash, it's different. His hand is steady, his breath calm. The memory of everything that happened at the Dragon's Nest is fresh in his mind; just this morning he warned Meryl that she and Milly should remember that, despite his ideals, Vash is still a loose cannon that they'd do well to avoid. He thinks to himself that if he can just pull the trigger, if he can just take out the less intimidating of the brothers, then one of these monstrous twins and half of the problem will be gone.
This time, there's no crushing sensation of oppression. There's no air of fear and malice. There are no threats or memories of twisted promises. There's only a look, wary and concerned...
Tumblr media
...but even by the time this happens, Wolfwood has already lowered his gun. He's decided not to pull the trigger, not because of an immediate threat on his life, but because... well, it's Vash.
Wolfwood surely knows that if he pulls that trigger, he catastrophically fails his mission, and whatever consequences might await him on the far side of such a failure aren't going to be anywhere near pleasant. But it doesn't seem like it's fear of Knives that makes him lower his gun. At the very, very least, Wolfwood knows no one stands a better chance at taking down Knives, but he also knows Vash. He's seen Vash's fake smiles and knows his real ones. He understands Vash's ideals despite very much not wanting to and not knowing how he could possibly accept them for himself. He's fought side by side with Vash, and been standing at his back since day 1.
And before this night is out, only a few minutes after pulling a gun on Vash, Wolfwood's right back there again, moving in tandem with Vash, being a human shield so they can accomplish Vash's goals together.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
It's only when the fight comes to a close that Wolfwood realizes that's what he's been doing. He didn't put any thought into falling in step behind Vash, didn't dwell on the fact that Vash trusted and moved with him during the fight. It's only afterwards, when they stop to catch their breath, that he realizes Vash hasn't looked his way through the whole battle. That Vash didn't need to look his way through the whole battle.
Not only did Vash trust Wolfwood at his back, but he knows Wolfwood well enough to move intuitively around him, not hesitating and always understanding what Wolfwood's about to do. And at that moment, Wolfwood realizes two things:
First, that there's no way Vash didn't notice when Wolfwood pointed a gun at him. If Knives could figure it out while half dead and barely knowing Wolfwood, then Vash, who's awake, alert, and has spent plenty of time with Wolfwood, can surely figure it out.
And second, that when he's fighting back to back with Vash, nothing else really matters. All his (quite legitimate) fears about what Vash is and how dangerous he can be, about Knives, about finishing his job, about what he himself has become... they all melt away. He's where he needs to be, where he should be, and that's all there is to it.
Tumblr media
1K notes · View notes
Text
Bring Heaven To You - LN
Summary: Y/n had been dating Charles til he breaks up with her and when he shows up with a new girl less than a week later, Lando makes a move that he doesn't think is very disrespectful given the relationship ending, and he intends to show her what heaven really feels like in a relationship.
No part 2 requests please
Tumblr media
Lando had heard the news, seen the announce of the "mutually agreed" ending to the relationship. He supposed it had been fairly obvious that the two were slowly growing apart.
Or more, Charles was losing interest in a woman too good for him anyway.
She's actually a neighbour of Lando's. Living in Monaco as some big millionaire's daughter, aka she doesn't pay for her living costs for Monaco.
"Hey, y/n. I was wondering when-are you ok?" Lando questions spotting her at the entrance, as he steps out and finds her very much looking a bit of a morning after mess.
"Yeah...just getting air. I don't feel so good." Y/n sighs as he sits down beside her. "Turns out drinking your problems away and sleeping with a millionaire isn't the way to go."
Ignoring the pang of jealousy that someone else got to be her rebound, Lando pats her knee.
"I would've thought millionaires would be exactly the type of people to fix problems."
"Yeah, well when you sloppily get drunk and he enjoys raw-dogging it. It comes with a lovely morning wake up of him telling me his assistant got me the morning after pill-actually two because apparently I'm a bit chubby and he doesn't want to risk it not working right because of dosage." Y/n laughs dryly then rubbing her hands over her face digging the heels of her palms into her eyes. "I almost want to credit him for knowing that woman who weight more need more than one pill."
Lando doesn't even know what to say, but his instinct is to find the bastard, take him in a choke hold and keep his head pressed under water till he feels like he levelled the universe's need for karma.
"I know what you're thinking." Y/n sighs but Lando can't help but mentally counter that she definitely doesn't. "This is not the right way to handle a break up. But this is the classic response isn't it? Drink, sex and wallowing."
"There's worse ways to handle it."
"Mmm...I could pull the ultimate move of manipulation by going to Charles and say if he doesn't take me back I'll kill myself." Y/n laughs then shaking her head. "I got dropped off here by the asshole's driver and I don't have the energy to move. Do you know how many rich people have drive past giving me the dirtiest looks? Safe to say any amount of self-confidence Charles didn't take has well and truly been washed away."
"Ok, as much as I want to respect you and respect Charles. Y/n, Charles never treated you right and that rebound was a fucking cunt." Lando states then standing up and offering his hands. "And if you're going to make be sad. Then you're going to have to fight me doing anything to get a smile out of you to do it."
"Sounds like the last thing I want to do is take your hands then." Y/n smiles lightly before shaking her head. "I need a shower, he might've given me the morning after pill but uhh...he didn't let me stick around to wash of the 4 drinks I spilled down myself or the sweat."
"Give me your hands y/n. You can shower once you're actually on your feet." Lando shrugs making her smile finally reaching her hands out and allowing herself to be pulled up to her feet. "You're freezing."
Y/n's body is only adorned in a slinky dress that is thin as hell with strappy heels on the floor. Presumably she hasn't worn them this morning. To put it lightly, she's not dressed for the coolness of a Summer night.
"It's October." Y/n smiles sarcastically then sighing as he pushes the door open. "You don't really have to stay with me. You were on your way to somewhere."
"Not to anywhere important." Lando shrugs making her smile sadly before he gestures for them to go ahead. "My apartment or yours?"
"Mine." Y/n laughs not really sure why they'd go to Lando's. "Are you going to be on y/n patrol or something? Make sure I don't go off the rails and throw myself in the ocean?"
"Well I am now." Lando frowns making her smile lightly at him.
They get up to her apartment Lando sighs taking in the soft vanilla scent that always seems to fill up the space. He's been in her apartment before. She keeps it much more full of stuff and life than he does with his. Not like it's cluttered but you can learn a lot about her if you pay attention to the details.
"If you just want to sit down or...wonder around, snoop in my stuff, just...if you go in my bedroom, possibly don't mention some of the stuff you find. It's embarrassing enough that you found me looking like this on the floor at the doorway of our apartment building." Y/n smiles then moving down her hallway into her bathroom.
"Fucking hell, make it hard for me." Lando whispers to himself while moving around to sit down on her sofa.
About 20 minutes later, y/n reappears with a towel that only just maintains her modesty as she does a spin.
"Improved?"
"You always look good, but I think for a full evaluation you'll need to remove the towel."
"And here I was about to praise you for not being a perv by being caught wanking with my underwear."
"Dirty or clean?" Lando questions making her frown in confusion. "Did you think the underwear I'd use would be dirty or clean?"
"You're disgusting." Y/n laughs picking up one of the cushions to throw at him before she moves back. "I'm going to get dressed. I won't be long."
Lando smiles sort of glad that y/n at least still has her sense of humour intact. Though it might be the residual alcohol in her system. Really Lando always thought she was too funny for Charles, he never seemed to understand her humour but Lando got it. That's why they got along even before her and Charles broke up.
When y/n appears clothed and layered up in some joggers and a sweater. From that Lando feels the urge to cuddle with her just from the sight.
He's never seen her so dressed down, presumably the image of Charles' girlfriend doesn't allow for it much even if Charles isn't the most fashionable person on the planet.
"You look cosy." Lando comments while she sighs. "I would offer to leave you with your thoughts but everything you've said till now tells me that's not a good idea."
"I'm not in a depressive episode, Lando. I'm just...single and had to tell the world it was a mutual decision, but really I said that so he didn't look shit in the media...I heard he's already with someone new."
"He'd be stupid if he gave you up and then moved onto someone new."
"Or I'm just that bad." Y/n smiles as she tucks herself up on the sofa and looks at him. "Being a good neighbour to you doesn't mean Charles though I was a good girlfriend. You never know what's going on that you don't see."
"You're being harsh on yourself."
"You're being too kind." Y/n mumbles gently kicking him with her foot though he quickly grabs it and uses it to yank her towards himself, forcing her to slide across the sofa.
"Maybe I'm not being kind. Maybe I'm dropping hints that you're not picking up." Lando states making her stop laughing at him. "You should come to COTA as my guest."
"Now you're just asking for trouble."
"I only stopped myself before because you're were in a relationship." Lando shrugs earning a laugh of disbelief from her. "Figure the best time to shoot my shot successfully is when you're still a little disorientated."
"I'm so stupid. I was dating some asshole who dumped me for someone better and now you're telling me I was so blinded by Charles that I didn't notice you." Y/n groans covering her face. "And now you want me at COTA with you."
"You can say no."
"I feel like I've already been enough of a bitch to you...especially when you're seeing me at my worst."
"If this is your worst, I'm not sure I even need to see your best." Lando smirks earning a pointed look from her.
"Were you always this smooth? Have I been deaf this whole time?"
"Yes."
-
Y/n felt oddly empowered walking into the paddock with Lando who seems to be proudly at her side.
Admittedly, she went all out making sure she had the perfect outfit, got her nails done with papaya French tips, sunglasses mask part of her face as the sun shines down on them.
"Y/n?" Carlos chokes out clearly shocked that she's not only switched from red to papaya but from Charles to Lando. "Has Charles seen you?"
"I don't know, why?" Y/n smiles sweetly since actually her heartbreak is long gone and she doesn't care in the slightest about Charles. It turns out when someone points out just how little you were valued by someone else, it becomes pretty hard to miss them.
"You-The two of you are together, yes?"
"Carlos, your concern is unnecessary...I know Charles is here with someone else. Why can't I be here with someone else who actually treats me like I matter?" Y/n questions making Carlos speechless but she can't help as she makes another comment with a slightly more hurt tone which makes Lando's head turn with a concerned expression. "Plus...you've been teammates with both of them. Tell me I didn't upgrade."
Carlos laughs not being able to deny that Lando has at least brought back the life to the young woman. He'd felt bad knowing that Charles was slowly involving himself with someone new while still in a relationship with y/n, who Carlos knows deserved better. He just never thought better would come in the form of Lando and certainly not the week after the relationship was announced as over.
"We should go." Lando comments making her hum and follow him giving Carlos a little wave as Lando flashes him a smile.
"You know, I am beginning to think I've risked it with this top." Y/n sighs as she uses her free hand to gently tug her top which is only held in place by string tied around her back. "It looks good but one quick move and someone is definitely getting flashed."
"You can borrow something from me if you need." Lando states earning a small smile. "I know you're already repping papaya on your nails, but if you need some extra layers for safety, McLaren will be more than happy to have you representing the team in uniform."
"You think?"
"As part of the McLaren family. I think I can speak confidently on the subject." Lando hums earning a small laugh from the young woman.
"In that case, if it gets a little colder. I may take you up on that offer." Y/n grins then moving around in front of him, forcing him to stop as she rests her arms on his shoulders. "You know you don't have to treat me this good just because-"
"I am treating you like this because you deserve it and it's how I treat the woman I want to be in a relationship with." Lando cuts in then grinning into a kiss as she leans in. "I don't know who is showing off more. You or me."
"I think it's nice that we're both showing off." Y/n shrugs her hand moving to cup his face, her thumb gently rubbing his cheek before she pecks his lips again.
There's a sudden gust of wind making her body shudder quickly before she finds herself pulled against him as he tries to protect her from the cold.
"Come on, let's get you inside. I think we can find you a jacket to keep you a bit warmer." Lando states then grinning as he picks her up in a big hug.
-
Y/n sighs looking at her phone tilting her head as she reads through the high amount of hate she's getting. There's a very few who seem to support her, them pointing out the difference between y/n and Lando now vs y/n and Charles in the past few weeks.
Some have also noted the new mystery girl that Charles appeared with.
"Charles wants to speak to you." Lando comments suddenly, appearing out of nowhere and sitting down across from her since she's in some of the outdoor seating in front of the McLaren unit.
"Mmm...I could get used to an F1 driver being my personal carrier pigeon." Y/n jokes then shaking her head. "Is it too petty of me to say that I don't really want to to talk to him?"
"No. I warned him that it's your choice and I'm not force young." Lando shrugs making her smile and move over sitting in his lap, closing the space between them as she makes her shameless public display. "I'd rather you didn't really."
"Then I won't. Spent too long wasting my time pleasing him anyway, why waste another second when I got you?" Y/n grins before placing several kisses around his face earning some loud laughter.
"Oi! Keep it in your pants kids!" Daniel exclaims passing the two with Max who is laughing pretty hard too.
"Not wearing any!" Y/n shouts back making both Max and Daniel trip over their own steps then both laughing while she grins and leans back on Lando resting her head on his shoulder. "I mean that by the way."
Lando hums sliding his hand just under the denim of her jeans and sliding it over the skin as if to check himself.
"Noted for later. For now, do you want to come to the garage with me? It's one of the safe places where Charles can't try to corner you for a chat."
"Oh my gosh, yes. That sounds so fun." Y/n gasps standing up and tugging Lando up before he has a chance to really process what she's saying.
-
Turns outs that y/n really couldn't avoid Charles forever and while he didn't catch her in COTA, he did catch her in Mexico.
"Y/n, please." Charles tries as she spots him nearing her and tries to rush to the safety of the McLaren unit but his voice rising in volume forces her to stop.
Her body slumps and she sighs slowly turning.
"I really don't want to talk." Y/n states making Charles look at her with those big eyes that really make her rolling her own and gesture for him to go ahead.
"Y/n, I'm sorry." Charles sighs making her sigh looking at him with a dead-eyed expression. "I should've never treated you the way I did, it was wrong and not fair. You don't have to forgive me but I want you to know I am sorry."
Y/n frowns, a little shocked. She expected possibly some jealousy of some anger saying that she shouldn't be dating Lando. But an apology is quite nice.
"You seem happier with him that you were with me." Charles adds making her sigh.
"Because he doesn't speak to me like I've always done something wrong...maybe do better with your new girlfriend...and don't cheat on her instead of just breaking up because you realised it wasn't the right fit." Y/n states trying to keep her tone as soft as possible since Charles isn't there starting fights. "Thank you for coming to talk to me."
"Thank you for not running off." Charles nods then swallowing. "It's nice seeing you so happy with Lando."
"It's nice being so happy with Lando. You could ask him for some tips." Y/n shrugs before feeling some pride in herself then she moves away. "This was a good talk, Charles."
He doesn't stop her this time and actually the witnesses to the interaction see a look of regret on Charles face as it seems to dawn on him how badly he fumbled with her. Especially when she's so clearly thriving with Lando which means it's not very likely she was the issue this whole time.
"I hope I don't have to fight him, I don't actually know who between us could take the other but I feel like he's got the upper had a little." Lando states as y/n nears where he was standing with Jon.
"No, I think I put him in his place without your help." Y/n states making him grin at her. "But thank you for your concern."
1K notes · View notes
dazaichuuya69 · 11 months
Note
Can I have Dazai, Fyodor, Chuuya and Akutagawa with a s/o who’s normally shy, but is secretly very kinky?
Character/s - Dazai, Fyodor, Chuuya, Akutagawa, gn! reader
Warning/s - Smut, kinky stuff, swearing but not like a lot
Notes - HOLY FUCK THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR REQUESTING!! I decided to do hcs for these because I felt like I could write more like this but if you want something else just ask. Also writing for Akutagawa was surprisingly fun
Tumblr media
Osamu Dazai
He will find out all of your kinks.
You can't hide anything from him, he was called the demon prodigy of the port mafia for a reason
Only he'll probably use less violent methods to get you to tell him
Basically you'll just sit on his lap and watch porn together
He WILL be able to read your reactions so don't even try hiding them from him because believe me, he did feel the subtle way you tried to grind on his cock when you saw those people getting tied up, and he definitely saw the ways your eyes looked at the computer screen when you saw that person getting gagged and blindfold
So once you've seen all that porn, he has you tied to the bed with a blindfold on, while he does whatever he wants to you <3
By the end, neither of you have any secrets, because he fucked them all out
Tumblr media
Fyodor Dostoyevsky
You are PERFECT for him. He loves how you act shy but are secretly kinky as fuck
But because Fyodor's mean he makes you tell him exactley what you want
And if you dont he WILL deny you of your orgasm until you do because he's a sadist!
He loves making you wear a vibrator in public just because of how flustered you are when he *accidently* turns it to the highest setting just when you want to say something
And this is only one of the very fun things he does to either embarrass you, or get you to admit your kinky desires
Some of the others include making you walk around naked all day, and having to call him master until eventually you tell him all the things you want to do
And then surprisingly he actually does them
Tumblr media
Chuuya Nakahara
Found out while you two were having sex because unlike Dazai and Fyodor, he is not a sadist.
He had a bad day at the mafia and was looking for a good way to relieve stress
So he pinned you to the table and started degrading you while fucking you
Like, really roughly
Only you kept on getting more aroused
I mean who doesn't want Chuuya to call them a dirty slut
He knew that talking about your kinks probably wouldn't work because of how shy you were
So the next time you had sex he tried it again, and kept on trying more things to see what you liked
Until eventually, he had you tied to the bed and blindfolded while he fucked you with his gun <3
Tumblr media
Ryuunosuke Akutagawa
After you've had sex a few times, he just decides to ask you about it
But, given how shy you were, you didn't really get anywhere because HE was blushing too
Well, not exactly blushing, but he was definitely flustered
So he just wrote down all the kinks he could think of on a bit of paper, gave it to you and all you had to do was circle the ones you liked!
Talks to Chuuya and Gin about the ones you circled so that he knew how to prevent risks of you were doing something like breathplay, because he has basically no experience in this stuff
Chuuya and Gin were so shocked. So so shocked.
Akutagawa already had everything laid out on the bed as well as some water on the side for when you finished, but that won't be for another few hours because he will find out exactly what you like
2K notes · View notes
sonarspace · 2 months
Text
love cramp, choso
wc: 1.8k content: fluff (reader has period cramps and he takes care of you). nsfw (oral. fem! receiving. multiple orgasms. face riding. overstimulation if you squint.) a/n: not proofread as usual. idk why its taken me so long to write for him but here we are :D.
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟
the first time choso eats you out he thinks he’s in heaven. sweet taste and honey like consistency. he can never get enough of tasting you. so when you get your period it’s like his source of food is gone.
you wake up to find your underwear covered in a light shade of red. the cramps come soon after. choso comes over at night, a smile on his face — excited to be around you.
the smile is soon wiped off his face when he walks around the couch to see your eyes scrunched. your body curled up, and your hands clutching your lower abdomen, a cramp hitting when he walked in. “are you okay??” he moves over to you. his hand moves over yours holding your stomach. trying to pry them away to see if you're hurt in anyway.
"cramp," you cry in pain. he pushes the hair sticking to you back and presses a kiss to your head. you huff out a laugh "ha, that was a bad one, but yes i'm okay.. i got my period in the morning".
"ohh," choso elongates the word in understanding. he asked you about it earlier when he noticed the pads in your bathroom shelf and you explained to him what it was then. how your cycle happens once and sometimes twice if the universe was trying to fuck with you.
and sure the universe was trying to fuck with you this time cause only two weeks later your cycle starts again. having done his own research about it, choso's patient and understanding when you lose your temper or get too emotional.
as soon as he finds out your on your period he gives you a quick peck on the lips and is out the door. not because he doesn't want to be around you but because he wants to take care of you in the best way he could. "text me, if you need anything specific i'll be back in twenty minutes."
you text him a "come back quick, i wanna cuddle 😞" after he's gone for ten minutes. he replies "be back real soon sweet cheeks :)". he does a quick google search on foods to reduce menustral cramps and grabs whatever he thinks you'd like from the list: dark chocolate, bananas, avocados, chamomile tea, pineapple and some ice cream just cause, and a heating pad since you've lost yours.
you're sitting up on the couch now, knees brought up to your chest. he gives you a short haul of all the things he's got you. a smile on your face and his love gripping your beating heart as you watch him explain why he bought each item.
a happy tear slips from the corner of your eye and he notices, "why are you crying? does it hurt too much?" you shake your head and chuckle softly "i'm just really happy you're here choso". he blushes "wouldn't wanna be anywhere else, darling".
fifth day of your period and you're barely bleeding. the cramps are almost gone unlike usual. you can't help but notice how he's being a little distant. you're about to ask him but that is until you notice his hard on and connect two and two together. he's sitting beside you trying really hard to keep up with the movie instead of getting on his knees and eating you out like a starved man.
he gulps when you move your hand to his thigh. you know you shouldn't tease him but you do anyway because it's fun to see him get flustered by your touch. your hands slide further up his shorts, your nails lightly scratch his inner thigh. his breath hitches when your pinky finger lightly rubs over his boner.
you fake a yawn and competely remove your hand. "i think we should go to bed," you tell him. he follows you with a confused look. "is there something you want to tell me, choso?" you tease him. "um...can i-" he clears his throat.
he gets on his knees then. "can i please, please, please eat you out?" you're taken aback. your lips parting in a silent gasp — expecting him to ask you for a blowjob instead. "is that why you're so hard?" you raise an eyebrow.
"god yes, baby, please let me touch you. let me make you feel good, please it's all i've been thinking about for the past five days. thought i'd be able to spend the night between your legs but you got your period," he pouts. you laugh, your hand grasping his cheek, "oh choso, you're a such a needy boy, aren't you?" and he nods feverishly.
"go ahead." you tell him. and his lips are immediately kissing up a path to your shorts. his hands on your hips to keep you steady, as he kisses you over your shorts. his nose nuzzling against your clit and he whimpers. his hands make their way under your shirt, his cold fingertips cupping your boobs. you gasp your head falling backwards.
you feel his teeth nipping at the skin of your hips. you look down to see him pulling off your shorts with his mouth. determined to keep massasing your boobs he successfully pulls down both your shorts and panties. "choso," you whine at his neediness. he stands up and press a quick kiss to your lips. his hands under your shirt helping you remove it. fully nude now, he gets rid of his own clothes quickly and pushes you down on the bed. "just relax, i'm going to take such good care of you sweet girl."
he kisses his way down to where you need him the most. leaving hickeys on his way — obessed with the way your skin felt under his lips and between his teeth. his arms move under your legs as he gets comfortable. he slowly licks once from your entrance to your clit, twice, thrice until you moan out a please.
"shh sweet honey, need to take my time. been waiting for five days, you can wait a bit longer for me, can't you?" he pouts. and his pouts always have you melting. "yeah i can wait," you pant. you're so wet — all because of him, he thinks. he takes pride in having you sprawled and needy for him like this, it's rare. sometimes he can't believe he has the same effect on you like you do.
he takes a finger and gathers your wetness on his tip, smearing it all over your stomach. he moans as he bites your inner thigh and inserts a finger into your needy hole. he moves up your body to lick at the wetness he left on your abdomen. the sounds he lets out as he licks it off you are pornographic.
"clenchin around my finger so much, breathe for me baby, deep breaths," he guides you. he chuckles when you give him a blank expression. another kiss to your hips. he always had to kiss you. it's as good as oxygen for him — the taste of you on his lips, on his tongue.
his tongue pokes out and licks lightly at your clit. "that pineapple's made your taste sweeter," he hums. he loved your taste. could live off of it forever. he presses his tongue on your clit, heavy. his eyes meet yours. your lips parted in a whine. his finger plugged in you starts slowly moving in and out, curling — trying to reach that spot in you.
your eyes roll to the back of your head. his long fingers reaching deep inside of you, curling and meeting your sensitive spot. you buck into his hand. your hand makes its way into his hair, scratching lightly. he replaces his finger with his tongue. dipping in and slurping. making filthy noises.
he links a hand with your free hand. the need to hold you through this in some way. his tongue alternates between flicking and sucking your clit and dipping into your needy hole. his thumb rubs your clit quickly trying to get you to reach your orgasm. he feels your walls tighten around his tongue as you cum.
he doesn't stop though. his tongue moves over your clit sucking. desperately wanting you to cum once more. and you do with a loud cry of his name "choso, choso, god, choso".
"no god here baby, just your choso." he smiles. his chin drenched in your juices and his hair slightly undone, sticking to his face. he tries to go down on you once more but you pull him away with the grip you have on his hair. "i can't" you pant.
"it's been five days, sugar. please, please, just one more," he begs and you give in. his tongue moves over you quickly. his teeth coming out to lighlty nip. adding an extra sensation. making it harder for you to keep your orgasm in, you let go. he lays beside you, breathing heavily. he kisses you deeply, enough that you could taste yourself on his tongue. you look down to his cock, rock hard and covered in white liquid. "did you..?" you ask with knowing smile. "yeah, your pussy drives me crazy." he laughs.
still unsatisfied, he grabs your hips moving you over him. "choso?" you question. "need you to ride my face, doll. get yourself off on me, come on. please?" he asks. grabbing your ass and moving under your pussy. you clench around nothing when his breath hits your core. "it's just beggin for my mouth, peach," he pulls you down on his face.
his tongue works you to yet another orgasm. your hips have a mind of their own as they move over him. his nose pushes into your clit. his ministrations this time have you more than cumming. you gasp as you squirt all over his face. surprised that he made you reach this state, he takes it all in like a proud man. satsified groans and whines falling out of his lips.
you pant pushing yourself off him. you lay beside him, breathing heavily — too tired to move. you hiss when you feel a warm towel between your legs. he cleans you up quickly and softly. a gentle peck on the marks his nails left inside your thighs. "choso, no more. please." you whisper.
"no more baby. just cleaning you up". he smiles softly. his hair fully undone and framing his face perfectly. he lays down beside, pulling you in as close he can. "really tired you out, huh?" he pushes your hair back so he could take in your features clearly. your eyes slightly open, cheeks flushed, lips bitten red.
you take him in for the first time in hours as well. his lips flushed a darker color than usual and his cheeks warm as your palm cups his face to pull him in for a kiss. you hum a yes into the kiss. "my girl, my sweet girl. my girl. the most perfect girl. my honey bun. my sugar filled doll. i love you. thank you." he whispers against your lips.
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟
© SONARSPACE 2023 | DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE, OR REPOST MY WORK ON OTHER PLATFORMS!
1K notes · View notes