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#if he can't open up about stuff the same way with her
fruity-fruition · 2 days
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My thoughts on Tenma Parents!
I am the Tenma parents' number #1 defender in a way. I still think they fucked up Tsukasa, but not intentionally.
(fyi, Tsukasa is definitely a mama's boy and I don't accept criticism. Saki's on the contrary)
I think Tsukasa's parents loved both him and Saki equally, unlimitedly, and wholeheartedly. The sad reality is that life handed the entire family a shitty deck of cards. And while love is unlimited, time and attention isn't.
They try their best, they genuinely do, but it's difficult juggling their job AND an ill child AND another child.
Due to Saki's (uncontrollable!! Remember!!) condition, one of the parents has to be with her nearly at all times and the other one has to work for the additional hospital bills (since the government can't cover some surgeries or procedures. Idk how it works in Japan but)
They try to be there for Saki and Tsukasa a lot but they do notice growing concerns abt both of them.
Saki's getting quiet, nearly bursting into tears every time Tsukasa or any of them leaves the hospital room. She clings on to people a lot to the point of where it hurts.
Tsukasa's getting quiet too. He thinks they don't notice, since he's trying to act upbeat and cheery in front of Saki to cheer her up, but they can't ignore... that. Whatever is happening to him.
They both don't know what to do.
Despite their best efforts, Tsukasa was still left home alone most of his late childhood and early teens.
They don't have favourites, but after a while, they can't say they know their son anymore. They saw him grow up without them, and it's the most heartbreaking thing to not be there.
--
They had to miss his middle school graduation. They tried to take time off work, but neither of them got off fast enough to reach the ceremony. Both only saw him that day at the hospital.
But Tsukasa lied. Lied to Saki's face, because he didn't want to upset her.
Tsukasa's mom: "Sweetheart, we're so sorry-"
Tsukasa: "-that you had to leave the ceremony early? It's okay!"
Their parents look at him confused because the issue is that they weren't even there. But Tsukasa gave them eyes, begging them to play along.
Tsukasa's mom: "...yeah. y-yeah, work called in and we really couldn't avoid it much longer"
Tsukasa lets out a sigh of relief before nodding and smiling "really! It's okay!"
When leaving Saki's ward, his mom asked him why he lied, and he just looked at her and shook his head.
Tsukasa: "...Saki does this thing, where she blames herself for stuff she can't control. I-I don't know how I know it, but I'm sure she'll do the same if she found out you weren't there. I don't want to see her doing that."
Outside, his mom pulls him into a hug, whispering apology after apology as she holds him. He kept insisting, it's fine! Really! He's a future star, with loads of celebration to come! Who cares if they missed one?
His mom looks at him, with genuine sadness, and asks him to be honest with her. Is he upset?
She noticed him froze, before shaking his head.
Tsukasa: "Not at all, mom! I understand why you both couldn't make it"
Tsukasa's mom: "...You can understand and still be upset. You're allowed to be"
But despite her best efforts to make her son open up, he still shakes his head and tells her it's alright.
She thinks he doesn't know that she knows. She knows that he wants them to worry less about him, which made them worry more.
--
She learned from Saki that Tsukasa doesn't have a lot of friends. He never mentions it a lot to Saki, but every time Saki asks him if he'd be hanging out with people, he just looks at her confused.
Tsukasa: "Why would I hang out with other people when I have the most incredible sister in the world!"
When he started to open up to her again, later in the future, when everything had settled down and life was beginning to move steady, she'll learn that his classmates think he's overbearing.
He wasn't getting bullied, nor was he actually disliked. But in terms of friends? They think he's a bit too loud, too tiring to deal with. Some even think he's a bit too selfish.
She would argue about that final point with her life. Because if anything, she wishes Tsukasa thought of himself more.
--
They learned more about him when he was 17. They learned about his friends, his troupe, his work, and how close he's gotten towards achieving his dreams. They're so unbelievably proud of him. He's grown into such an incredible person.
They just wished they could've taken the credit.
--
They loved their children equally. Even when Toya was pulled into the frame and they unknowingly gained a third, they loved him all the same.
But there's a difference in loving and knowing, because their son felt far more distant to them than their daughter. And they're trying their absolute best to fix that rift before it's too late
--
Both Tsukasa and Saki suffered majorly in their life, both in vastly different ways. But in terms of parents, I think Tsukasa got the short end. But not intentionally, y'know? It's like. Accidental child neglect.
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zmediaoutlet · 1 day
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"So how was it?" Dean says.
Sam squints at him. Crazy-bright day, light reflecting off every car, bouncing back from the license plate frame on the Buick in front of them. "How was what?"
He gets a significant look but then there's a honk and Dean waves irritably at the guy behind them, moves forward a half car-length like that means something. Sam said they should've just taken 87 instead of the state highway, but apparently that wouldn't have been as good a drive, so here they are, bumper to bumper. Some accident they can't see up ahead.
"Dean," Sam says, when they're essentially parked again. "How was what?"
Dean stretches back, knees spread wide around the steering wheel. "Uh, let's see," he says, and sucks his lower lip like he's really thinking. "The tonsil hockey? The tongue tango? The vertical v-grab—"
"You're the worst," Sam says, loudly, and Dean grins whitely out at the traffic. Relaxed. Probably more relaxed now that Sam feels blood rising in his cheeks, like he really did something. The dick. They roll forward another few feet and Sam braces his elbow on the open window, looking out at the growing green, the budding trees. Springtime in upstate New York, not the worst it could be.
"Sarah seemed like she'd be good at it," Dean says. Sam rolls his eyes, smacks vaguely to his left, catches leather jacket. Dean swats his hand away. "Hey, that ain't a dig. I admire a chick who'll really go for it. And, buddy, the way she was looking at you."
Sometimes it's like he thinks Sam's blind. Like, the only reason is that he doesn't notice. He sucks the inside of his cheek, squints out at the random field out past the highway. Cows, in the distance. "She was good at it," he says, finally. Soft where it counted, confident in the way that a lot of gorgeous girls are. Curving into his body but not limp or just opening her mouth for it and waiting for him to be done. Her tongue tasted like earl grey tea. He can taste it now, and rubs his fingers over his mouth.
Dean's been quiet, letting off the brake and rolling forward a carlength at a time. "You want to…" he starts, but what goes there? They weren't going to stay. They never were. Even an extra day didn't make sense, because what was going to happen—Sam taking the open invite, letting himself try, knowing that in the motel across town Dean was cooling his heels with motel porn and a takeout pizza, waiting for Sam to shoot his load so they'd be ready to pack up and leave the state? No, that wasn't going to happen. Not fair to Sarah, no matter if Sam explained the score, and it wasn't fair to Sam, and it wasn't fair, either, to…
More honking, somewhere behind them. They check the rearview at the same time, annoyed, and Dean mutters, "Like that helps?"
Sam turns on his side of the bench, putting his back to the window. Dean glances at him and then looks back out at the cars, frowning. "What do you think I'm missing?" Sam says. "With this stuff. Perfume? Long hair?"
"Perfume I can do, but I draw the line at wearing a wig for you," Dean says. Sam huffs and Dean glances over at him again, smiling. Kind of smiling anyway. "Not trying to—to be weird about it, or pick a fight or anything, Sammy. I just know you wanted…" He shakes his head, slouches back on the bench with two fingers hooked low on the steering wheel. "I don't want you to be—missing anything. I know, we got a job, and it's important. I'm not, like, trying to get you to move into a two-bedroom in New Paltz. I just don't want you to hate this any more than you do already."
Traffic judders to a halt again. Sam nods, looks out at the blinding chrome. His eyes smart. He sniffs, and drags his hand over his face, and then leans over the bench seat and gets his hand on Dean's jaw and turns his face and kisses him. Dean's lips startle open and Sam closes his eyes and licks in, pressing deep, Dean's hand gripping his jacket and Dean's breath filling his mouth. Coffee, salt. Sam tips so his forehead's against Dean's, their noses brushing. "Don't worry about what I'm missing," Sam says.
Dean's knuckles against his chest. He breathes in, shaky.
Honking. Dean takes a quick deep breath and pulls back, doesn't look at Sam. Traffic opening maybe, a little, ahead. They slide forward a car-length and then another. "Might make it to Allentown before dark after all," he says. His ear's pink. Sam sits back into the corner of the bench and smiles at the side of his head. "Shut up," Dean says, and Sam smiles out the window instead, the grown-grass verge starting to blur as they pick up speed. He wasn't going to say a thing.
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bayjaruchel · 6 months
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Underneath The Strobe Light
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Pairing: Mike Schmidt (2023)/AFAB Reader
Rating: Explicit
Summary: You're aware of your feelings for Mike, but you're unsure if he feels the same. A single late-night conversation changes everything. (4.2k | originally posted on ao3 | Masterlist )
Extra Notes: Posted October 29, 2023
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You know Mike, sometimes. Mainly in bits and pieces. 
You know he has that poster of Nebraska above his bed; you know he's got a soft spot for terrible eighties cartoons. You know he likes his steak well done. Maybe it's generally useless information — but you've tucked it all away in a dear corner of your brain, in a well-worn cardboard box with his name scrawled fondly on the side in Sharpie. 
He's been busy nowadays, especially with his awful new job at that abandoned restaurant. You've always been there if he needs someone to watch over Abby. It's a strange juxtaposition— spending more and more time at his house, but spending less and less time actually talking to him. But you know he's exhausted, both mentally and physically. 
You don't expect much. You don't need much. Even though Mike's always offered to actually pay you for babysitting Abby, you've always declined. 
However— needing and wanting are two very different things. 
And you want. So, so much. 
Sitting here, on the couch in his living room, your mind always wanders back to him. Abby's a really nice kid, even if she's a little on the eccentric side. Whenever you're sitting with her, watching her draw or watching the television, you can't really focus on Mike. But now, with her safely put to bed … There's nothing to stop you. Nothing to distract you from the empty spot next to you on the couch. 
You blink, already bleary-eyed from the hour. There's some mediocre sitcom playing on the television. It's practically white noise, and you can feel yourself slowly but surely being lulled to sleep. The stubborn part of you wants to fight it. The tired part of you wants to just let it happen. You fumble for the remote instead, switching the channel. 
World News Now? 
Not bad, you think wryly, slumping back into the pillows. You liked the guy playing the accordion and singing about the news, polka-style. Hopefully they'll bring that back. Maybe large broadcasting networks actually do know their audiences. 
Yeah, no. 
You stifle a yawn, tugging your blanket a little tighter. The room's dark, so the only real sources of light are coming from the kitchen and the bluish glow of the television. The only sounds besides that of the T.V. are the occasional car passing by, joined by the gentle chorus of crickets. It's quiet, but not in a discomforting way. 
It's kind of perfect. Like your own little bubble in the world. Untouchable. Not until the sun rises, anyway. 
Your bubble suddenly pops when a car pulls into the driveway, tires crunching on the pavement, and your heart skips. 
It couldn't be anyone else. 
About a minute later, there's the sound of keys turning in the lock. The door swings open and then shuts behind him. Softly. He knows Abby would wake up if he slammed it. Then there's the thump of him setting down his stuff— carelessly. 
The couch cushions squeak a little when Mike sits down next to you. Silently. He's gotten rid of that stupid security vest. 
"Hey," you offer. 
"Hi," he obliges. 
You're sure he's not really paying attention to the T.V. "How was work?" 
It's bland small talk at best, and brutally annoying at worst. But it's the only way to move into interesting conversation territory. And he didn't just trudge past you to go flop down on his bed, so you're assuming he does want to talk. You might pretend not to know, but you're well aware of his social life— or lack thereof. Everyone needs to talk, sometimes. 
"Pretty dull." Rolling his probably stiff shoulders, he lets out a small sound of discomfort. Sheepishly, he murmurs: "I kind of … I kind of just napped, to be honest." 
"Aren't you supposed to be a security guard?" You tease. "That's a really important job, you know. You have to stop all the dangerous teenagers from breaking in and spray-painting dicks on the walls." 
He huffs out something reminiscent of a laugh. "Honestly, the pay's too low to take it seriously." 
"And yet … " 
"There weren't any kids, okay?" Mike shakes his head. When you turn to look at him, though, he's smiling. It's faint, but it's there. "No dangerous teenagers that I had to fight off. It was fine." 
"Fine?" 
"Fine." 
You don't want to let the silence set in. 
"Oh, yeah, we finished the leftover spaghetti earlier. For dinner. I hope that's okay." 
"No, it's terrible," he deadpans. "I hate you." 
"Asshole." 
"Whatever." Mike snickers, and you bask in its gloriousness. "Yeah, it's okay. I know that I probably wouldn't have eaten it anyway. Did you, uh … " He pauses for a split second. "… Did you like it?" 
His tone makes you wonder, but you hastily brush it off. "Yeah, I did," you clarify, "the sauce was pretty great. Was it store-bought, or?" Because if it was, then where can I get it?
"Yup," he replies, popping the 'p'. "Great stuff, for something that's canned. But I always add a little more garlic powder, too." 
"Oh, really?" 
Mike hums an affirmation. "It's like magic, I'm telling you. Doesn't even take a lot to add flavor." 
"That's cool." You rustle with your blanket again, adjusting it more out of habit than anything else. That, and it's kind of cold. "I'll try and remember it for later." 
He's almost cheeky when he speaks. 
"It's life-changing." 
You can't help but snort. "You sound like an addict." 
Incredulously, he glances at you. "To what? Garlic powder?" 
"Pretty much, yeah." 
"I can't believe that you'd say that." He slowly shakes his head, for the second time in the span of roughly a minute. "Especially as someone who's experienced it firsthand—" 
"—you're the one talking about how life-changing it is—" 
"—you can't possibly ignore the irresistible savoriness of garlic powder." 
You look at one another for a moment. The sheer absurdity of the situation sets in all at once. And, well. He starts giggling, and you can't hold it in, either. How could you? Even though he looks at least part zombie, his eyes are still very much alive. Despite the blatant awkwardness and lingering shyness that always follows him around, he's still got a very contagious laugh.  
After you both calm down, he lets out a long sigh. 
"It's getting really late." 
You cling to what little stubbornness remains. "Yeah?" 
"Are you gonna head home?" 
Again, there's something there. Despite his nonchalant attitude, it's almost like— 
—but you're probably overthinking. Wouldn't be anything new. He has to get some rest, and so do you. The drowsiness repeatedly threatening to tug your eyelids closed is a testament to that. Normally, you'd just pass out on the couch or something, and take off early in the morning; before Mike and Abby wake up. But now, it's different. Now, you actually have to make a choice before your sleepy body makes it for you. 
"Um." You rub your eyes again. "I mean. I could, if it's bothering you—" 
"It's not." 
He interrupts you so quickly that it catches you off-guard. It seemingly catches him off-guard, too, judging by the way he promptly averts his gaze and pretends to care about the guy on the television going on about some sort of plumber strike in the city. 
"Oh." You need a second to process. "Oh, okay. Well, in that case … I don't really think that it'd be safe for me to drive right now." You laugh, a little too airily for it to be completely genuine. "I'd probably fall asleep at the wheel or something." At least that's the truth. "I'll just take the couch. As usual." 
"Okay," he says. He's back to murmuring. 
"And I'll be gone before you eat breakfast." Subconsciously, you're fiddling with the slightly frayed edges of the blanket. It's well-loved. "As usual." 
You think you hear him suck in a breath, seconds before: 
"Why don't you stay?"  
Your own breath stutters in your chest. 
"... what?" Is all you can manage, without horrifically humiliating yourself. 
"I mean," he rushes to correct himself, "you come by sometimes because you want to spend time with Abby— she likes you a lot, you know, sometimes I think she likes you more than she likes me . I think—" He's properly nervous now, his knee bouncing up and down. But he's already continuing before you can get a word in. "I think she'd like you to be here in the morning. And you don't accept pay, anyway. You just— won't." 
His nervousness is spreading to you. "Hey, I—" 
"Why are you here, anyway?" 
The question sounds like it's been a long time coming. He's demanding you now, brow furrowed and eyes sparking with emotion. "Is it out of pity? Do you feel sorry for me? Do you feel sorry for Abby? Because if you do, then— then you can just—" 
"It's not!" You exclaim. 
Immediately, you realize that there's a sleeping girl not too far away, and shamefully lower your voice. 
"... It's not, I promise. I just—" It takes a little while for you to gather the right words, and when you do, you don't drop your gaze from him. All of his previous frustration is all but gone, replaced by a slightly wide-eyed expression that's making your heart ache a little. "I genuinely really like spending time with Abby, okay? She's really sweet, and creative, and just a really great kid. And I—" 
You stop yourself. 
"And you what?" Mike asks, gently. 
Might as well, huh? 
"And I really like spending time with you, too," you admit, finally unable to meet his eyes and focusing on your lap instead. 
There's an incredibly tense beat, in which you swear your life flashes before your eyes. 
Then: 
He's barely audible when he speaks. His knee has stopped bouncing, but he's playing with his thumbs. Clearly, your confession— vague as it was— resonated with him, in some way. You hope he understands what you meant, because you couldn't possibly put it all into words in a way that would make sense. 
"Feeling's mutual," he mutters. 
Your head almost snaps up at that. Maybe you had expected it, deep down— you're not oblivious, duh— but it's one thing to have a hunch, and another to have that hunch proven. And out loud, no less. 
"Yeah?" You dare to ask. 
Slowly, he looks up. He meets your eyes. 
"Yeah," he repeats breathlessly, like the wind's been knocked out of him. 
You let your blanket fall from your shoulders, and it slides all the way onto the floor. 
You reach out. 
He lets you lace your fingers through his. 
Mike's palm is sort of clammy— and he's shaking a little— but he still squeezes your hand. On instinct, you guess. It still makes you smile. He doesn't return it, but his lips are parted a little, and you really, really like that. More than you probably should. You like a lot of things about him more than you probably should. 
You scooch a little closer, and he doesn't move away. You let your gaze drop back down to his lips again, making your intentions clear. Still, you don't know if it's clear enough. You lean in, just barely. 
"... Can I?" 
His reply is almost instantaneous. 
"Please."  
You swallow all of the witty quips you could make, and kiss him instead. 
He's very tentative at first. Like he hasn't done this for a while. But you ease him into it— and before long, he's got one hand on the back of your neck, the other somewhere near your waist. He tastes like coffee and something else you can't really put your finger on. It doesn't really matter, though. Because you are kissing him, damnit! 
His eyes are still shut when you part— with a soft smack — but they flutter open after a second. You're not sure if you're supposed to say something meaningful. Luckily, he leans in instead, and your thoughts are immediately transported elsewhere. 
You kiss like this for a while. It's really nice, and you know he needs it. So do you. 
However— when you start losing track of time, lost in the moment, he makes a noise. 
It's quiet, definitely. But it's nothing like the little hums and sighs he's been making so far. It makes you shift closer, pressing more insistently into him. And he responds, enthusiastically wrapping his arms around you, closing the little distance between your bodies that there was. You can practically feel his heart jackrabbiting in his chest when you slip your tongue past his already kiss-swollen lips. 
He moans.  
You indulge yourself. For a little longer. And Mike chases you when you part. 
"We shouldn't do this in the living room," you whisper, nearly panting. "The couch is a little—" 
"Okay," he whispers back, already sounding wrecked. "Okay." 
You've been in his room before. You've sat on his bed— you've even laid on it before. But you've never straddled him on it before. It's a position that makes your head spin a little, and you occupy yourself with kissing him again. His hands fit perfectly on your hips, but they don't stay there for long, tragically— they trail upwards, up your waist, to your back. To your shoulders, and then back down again. It's as if he just can't get enough. You can't either. You need more. 
So, you tug at his shirt. He gets the message right away— hands scrambling to pull it up and over his head. He's still rather slim, but with a slight softness, mostly located in his midsection. There's a light dusting of dark hair on his chest, as well as the provocative happy trail leading down from his navel. You drag your eyes downward, admiring him, and then decide that you're wearing too much clothing. Your top comes off, dropped onto the floor near his. 
Mike takes more time to admire you when your torso is completely bare. His hands are warm on your bare skin, and slightly rough. Like before, he's hesitant at first, but when you encourage him— either literally or with physical indications— he grows bolder. His stubble scratches gently against you when his lips find your collarbone. 
You squirm a little, not even realizing it— and you feel him. Simultaneously, you both gasp. He's not fully there, but he's at least half-hard— and it can't be comfortable in those jeans. 
"Should I—" 
"Yeah—" 
With steady fingers, you unbutton his fly, and then unzip him. It's a little awkward when he shimmies out of the jeans, and when you wriggle out of your bottoms— you both snicker a little, but he's back to comfortably breathless when you settle back onto his lap. Under normal circumstances, you would tease him again. And yet, you can't bring yourself to. Not right now, at least. 
All you want to do is keep going. 
You roll your hips, testing the waters. His breath audibly hitches, and his hands fly up to settle back on your hips. He looks up at you, eyes already half-lidded— and they close when you grind down again. And again. His lips are clumsier this time when you kiss him, but he still reciprocates all the same. The sensation of him directly underneath you like this is intoxicating. You can feel every little twitch and every little jolt. 
"Fuck," he breathes, long and drawn-out, " God, I can— I can see the spot on your—" 
"Yeah?" You encourage, grinding down again, drinking in his answering groan. "You like that?" 
  "Yes —" 
"You want me to take 'em off?" 
Mike's pupils are blown wide, even though his eyes are already dark as is in the dimness of the room. He nods, once, then twice. "Yes," he murmurs. "Please," he adds, for good measure. 
He stares openly when you get off him, just enough to peel off your last remaining layer of clothing. And when you sit back down, well. It's obvious that you'll have to give him a second. "Can I," he says, finally, "can I touch you?" The way he's looking up at you again is just so sweet, so needy, that you consider saying no. Your throbbing core quickly shuts that idea down. 
"Go on," you encourage. 
He helps you move so he has easier access, and—  
His fingertips find your slit, already wet for him.
"Look what you did to me," you murmur. 
He visibly flushes— and then carefully works one finger into your slick heat. The feeling, combined with his thumb brushing against your clit— it's relief that you've needed this entire time, and you can't help but let a quiet sound escape your lips. It's apparently enough incentive for him to quicken his pace a little. Deliberately, he continues massaging your sensitive nub in a firm but easy pattern as he gently pushes a second finger inside you. 
Mike may be out of practice, but evidently, he still knows what he's doing. He peppers kisses up and down your neck, some more open-mouthed than others. Crooking his fingers, he maintains his diligent rhythm. A thought floats through your mind, unbidden— he must have strong hands, if he's been able to keep up like this—   
Two becomes three, and you're spreading your thighs a little wider for him. He's still transfixed, but speeds up at your urging, breath hot against the divot between your neck and shoulder. You chance a glance down, and you can see the visible outline of him through his boxers. You did that to him. He's desperate— for you. 
"Mike," you gasp, "nnh—" 
"Yeah, c'mon," he mouths, against your neck, "c'mon—" He's not letting up in the slightest, and when you tell him to, he speeds up again. He needs to see you cum just as much as you need to feel it. Your needs and wants are rapidly blending into one. You squeeze your eyes shut, but open them to look at him. His dark curls are a mess, his hand working tirelessly between your legs. 
  "Mike —" 
He says your name in return, like he's the one in the vulnerable position. 
"Mike , 'm gonna— 'm gonna—"  
"Please," his breaths are ragged, debauched, "cum, please, c'mon, lemme see it—" 
"Oh —" 
The tension snaps, and you spasm around his fingers. Your hips twitch, and you moan, your mouth falling open as you ride out your orgasm. You're rising— falling — molten honey pooling in your core, before flowing throughout your body. And Mike keeps going throughout it all, letting you enjoy the sensations until you're fully satisfied. 
Nearly boneless, you sag backward. His fingers, soaked with your glistening release, slip out of your cunt with a wet noise. He doesn't waste any time in bringing them up into his mouth, cleaning them off with his tongue— at the taste of you, he groans, even though it's muffled. Your mind takes a moment to catch up again with the world, but another thought manifests itself— how would he react, if you let him use his mouth on you? How would his head look between your thighs? He would be noisy, wouldn't he? Enthusiastic, pliant, and—
Your desire, although it waned for a short minute, comes back tenfold. But you take one look down again and— you can do that later. Right now, you want him inside you. 
Mike lets you tug him down for another kiss. He lets you feel the worn fabric on his thighs, almost playfully. When you palm him through them— he hisses through his teeth, hypersensitive even though you've barely touched him yet. You're going to fix that, though. Hooking your thumbs into the waistband of his boxers, you tug them down. 
You were right. He's desperate. As soon as his overheated skin meets the cool air, he lets out another quiet hiss. And when you take him in hand— 
"Mmh —" A firm stroke from base to tip, and you've already got him. He's average in length, but a little girthy. You know he'll be perfect. There's a little drop at the head of his cock, and you resist the urge to lick it off, focusing instead on warming him up a little. He whispers your name, once, when you pump up and down, twisting your wrist. 
"Got a condom?" You ask, stilling for a second. His eyes snap to you. 
"Oh my God, " he quickly mutters under his breath, before raising his volume, "uh, yeah, I think so. Lemme—" And he's already scrambling off the bed, opening the drawers of his nightstand with speed, but somehow simultaneously managing not to make much noise. He rifles through them, but soon emerges victoriously with what he was looking for. It's a little funny, how he doesn't waste any time in ripping it open and tossing the garbage into the mostly-overfull pail near his bed. Hastily, he rolls on the condom. You think he's expecting you to lay back or get up on your hands and knees so he can fuck you like that— you wouldn't be entirely opposed to it— but that's not what you want right now. 
You place your hands on his chest and push him back down so he's sitting against the headboard. He goes without complaint, even shifting when he understands what you want to do. He's flushed almost down to his neck. 
When you sink down on him in a smooth slide, still slick from earlier, you both moan. He sounds strained— he's biting his lower lip, squirming until he finally bottoms out. You have to take a moment to catch your breath, too; the fullness is just how you imagined, but it's so, so much, especially because of your lingering sensitivity. 
"I'm not—" He audibly swallows, hands tightening on your waist when you move just a little, "oh, fuck, I'm not gonna— I'm not gonna last long." He's babbling a little. "You're tight, fuck." 
You rock back and forth, once, and it's enough to force a choked noise from his throat. You watch his face, observing every little twitch, the clenching of his jaw. You can't hesitate for much longer, though— so you begin lifting yourself and dropping yourself down on his cock. Just in little movements at first, so you can get used to the feeling. His eyes squeeze shut— 
"Look at me," you demand, and he does. He doesn't try and thrust up into you when you really start to move. Up and down, up and down, with lewd plaps that accompany your sounds; his grunts—  you swear you hear him whimper .  His eyelashes flutter open and closed, as he struggles to follow your command, wanting to be good. For you. Even though you can see his thighs flexing as he holds everything back. You ride him for all you're worth. 
True to his words, you can tell when he gets close. Maybe he's been on edge this entire time. You thread your fingers through his hair— he buries his face into the crook of your neck, maybe out of embarrassment. You can feel how flushed he is, a thin sheen of sweat covering both of your bodies. Your muscles are aching, but you're determined to make him cum. You're determined to do this for him. 
He says your name, but it's more of a whine. "Please — I'm gonna— I can't — "  
"Go on," you pant, "you can. Don't hold back." Your arms are wrapped around his neck, now, holding him tight; just like his arms around your waist. The contact is almost too much, but somehow it's still not enough, despite him being inside you. "Go on," you repeat, after he whines again, the sound sending white-hot heat straight to your core. "Cum." 
Mike twitches, and you can feel him pulse— the sound he lets out is high-pitched, muffled into your skin. You slow your movements— the aftershocks of his orgasm last longer than yours. It might've been a little while for you, but it had definitely been longer for him. 
He doesn't let go, even after his breathing's slowed down. 
Gently, you pull his head back so you can look at him. He looks up at you with slightly wet eyes. The kisses you press to his cheeks and forehead make him scrunch up his face. 
"Hey," he rasps, "I gotta throw out the condom. Hang on." 
"Yeah, okay." 
When he slips out of you, you both sigh a little. With unsteady fingers, he ties up the condom before chucking it into the pail. 
The sheets are cool on your skin when he pulls them over you both. The room reeks of sex, but both of you are too exhausted to care. When you turn to lay on your side, he's behind you, throwing an arm over your waist. Tugging you closer. Almost absentmindedly, there's a kiss pressed to the back of your head. 
"Thank you," he mumbles. 
You stare at the far wall, unable to close your eyes just yet. 
"For what?" 
"For—" A pause. "For everything, I guess." 
The awkwardness is back. But you let it in. You smile. 
"You're welcome." 
He doesn't respond, but shuffles nearer, chest pressed up against your back. It's not long before you're both fast asleep. 
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keplerbyte · 11 months
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Fuck love triangles I will never stop thinking about poly Miles, Gwen and Hobie. ❗️❗️❗️
SPIDERBAND.
Gwen and Miles clearly like each other, no question. I was hesitant after ITSV because I just kinda liked their friendship but after watching ATSV they have my blessing. They're just so AHDOWNDK 😭😭😭😭
Gwen and Hobie give me chill besties vibes, but it could easily be more, they seem to give that impression to other people anyways. Gwen stealing Hobies shoes and leaving her stuff at his place is cute 😭 he let's her crash with him because she can't go home and I think thats sweet. ALSO HOBIE SAYING HES PART OF THE SPIDER ORGANIZATION JUST BC HES "LOOKING OUT FOR HIS DRUMMER" AAAQUUDHWI
HOBIE AND MILESSS, I love their dynamic so much, Hobie being Miles' hype man and Miles thinking Hobie is soooo cool. I love the idea of Miles not knowing he's bi before he meets Hobie and suddenly he's all kinds of confused, meanwhile "I dont like labels" Hobie is so confident and chill
BRAINWORMS BELOW
Miles KNOWING he likes Gwen but he meets Hobie and suddenly he's acting the same way he acts around Gwen? He's tripping over his words and trying to impress him, and at first he brushes it off as wanting a cool friend, but Hobie keeps TOUCHING him.
Slinging his arm over his shoulders and leaning in close to tell him something, hugs when he hasn't seen him for awhile (not quite to the level of the big open hugs he gives Pav of course) and hell even high fives and fist bumps make him freeze up and try to remember how to use his limbs like a normal person.
The "Cool Friend" excuse shatters once he catches Gwen and Hobie hanging out and realizes he feels left out and jealous... but he can't figure out who he's jealous OF.
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(I love this picture)
Also omg if Miles' parents think GWEN is a bad influence then IMAGINE THEIR REACTION TO HOBIE. I can vividly imagine Miles' dad saying "That kid is a PUNK." Meanwhile his mom is just ranting because "How do you even find these people Miles??"
"He's in a band with Gwe- Gwanda. They want me to join..."
"ABSOLUTELY not-"
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neverevan · 1 year
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I know we all love the idea of Eddie keep flirting with Steve and calling him pet names, because he thinks he can get away with it.
But I've been thinking about Steve casually calling Eddie baby without even registering what he's doing.
Like they are standing outside the van with the hood open and Steve just tutting at him like "Eddie, baby, you really gotta get your transmission checked, this is like the third time this month" and Eddie's losing his shit, mouth hanging open in shock, but Steve has no idea and it just keeps on happening after that.
Next time it happens, they are all over at Steve's, having a movie night and Steve has El and Max passed out on him, making him unable to get up from the couch without waking them and he just whisper-yells to Eddie "Hey babe, could you pass me a beer? Kinda tied up here" and Eddie just blanks and says nothing, but gets a bottle from the sixpack on the floor and Steve says "thanks" like it's just how things have always been between them.
And Eddie's working himself into a frenzy. Has Steve got no idea about what he's doing to him? Because Eddie's been lowkey crushing on Steve since he got mixed up in the whole Upside Down business and it just got worse when he woke up at the hospital to Steve holding his hand and giving him the brightests of smiles that there was, rubbing his thumb over Eddie's knuckles, whispering a soft "Hey there sleeping beauty, how're ya feeling?" while being completely oblivious to the suspicious look Wayne was giving them. And sure, hanging out with him nearly every day didn't help the situation one bit.
But this. This is going to be the death of him.
And it just keeps on happening. Steve murmurs "goodnight baby" into the phone before hanging up, he shouts "babe, come here, you gotta see this" when Lucas ends up stuffing fifteen oreos into his mouth (which is a new personal record) and whispers "hey baby, I'm sorry, I know you'd rather do something else, but I promised Mrs Wheeler" when they're watching Holly's ballet recital, waving at her from their seats when her eyes land on them.
It all comes to a head when Eddie's stupid van breaks down in the middle of fucking nowhere, on their way back from Indianapolis, after going there to buy a special boardgame for Dustin's birthday.
There's not a single car or house to be seen anywhere in a ten mile radius.
"Oh this is just great," Steve hisses as he jumps out of the car to walk around and Eddie does the same. He pops the hood and watches as a small cloud of smoke slithers out of it.
"Shit" Eddie swears under his breath. It looks bad.
"See baby, that's exactly why I told you to get it checked! Because I didn't wanna get stuck in fucking no man's land!"
"Look, I'm sure if we just leave it to rest a little..."
"Rest? Eds, come on, you know that's not how it works. We gotta walk up to the next gas stop and phone someone to tow it."
"Fuck, fine!" Eddie grunted. "But it gets dark in like twenty minutes."
They both know that they can't handle walking out in the wild after dark. Not after everything and not with all the nightmares that still tormented them most nights.
"Then I guess we're sleeping out here tonight." Steve says, dropping his hands on his hips. "You have pillows or some shit in the back?"
"Got a couple of blankets, yeah."
In the end they lay down two blankets on the bottom of the van and bundle up some old jumpers Eddie keeps in there for pillows. They lie there, facing each other in the dark.
"Hey... I'm sorry about all this" Eddie whispers, like his voice could disturb anyone out here in the middle of nowhere.
"It's okay, I just wish you'd pay more attention to stuff like this. I mean shit, babe, what if it's just you out here, huh? What then?"
"Steve-"
"I mean, I just hate to think about how shitty it would be, to be out here alone, in the dark... plus I'd worry myself sick not knowing where you are, you know?"
"Steve."
"Yeah?"
"I'm not alone."
"No, no you're not alone" Steve agrees with a private little smile.
They settle into a companionable silence and Eddie's almost certain that Steve is just about to drift off, but he can't contain it in himself any longer; he has to ask.
"Hey Steve?"
"Mmh?"
"Why uh... why are you keep calling me...?" He can't bring himself to say it out loud without his face heating up.
"What?"
"Names." He settles, hoping that Steve would get it.
"Names?"
He's gonna make him say it, isn't he?
"Yeah like uh... baby."
"Oh"
Even in the darkness of the van Eddie can see how the colour darkens in Steve's cheeks.
"Does it bother you?" Steve asks after a beat and Eddie just sighs out a soft "no".
"Okay."
For a long moment it seems that this is all Eddie's gonna get, but then Steve shuffles a little closer and runs a finger along Eddie's palm before taking his hand into his own.
"It just felt right, you know? Calling you that. I dunno, it was like how it was meant to be."
"That sounds kinda romantic, isn't it?" Eddie's shooting for a joke, but Steve just sighs timidly.
"Yeah, it does, doesn't it?"
"Steve-"
"Eddie... can I?" He doesn't finish it, but Eddie knows he'd say yes to pretty much anything Steve could ever ask from him.
"Yeah" He breathes with a little nod and Steve scoots even closer, placing his other hand onto Eddie's cheek. He leans in and looks him in the eyes for an impossibly long moment, making sure he's got permission one last time.
Steve whispers a soft "baby" onto his lips before finally closing the gap between them.
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Soft Boi - Max Verstappen
Summary: Max found his reason to smile no matter what and to her nothing else matters when Max smiles.
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"Hey mate, y/n has arrived. She's asked me to pass on her apology for being late." GP states into Max's radio as he sits in the car for FP1, looking at the data.
Max looks up, pushing his visor up properly before he spots his girlfriend moving back over to the garage from the pit wall where she presumably asked GP to pass on the message.
Usually girlfriends wouldn't be allowed to do anything like that, but honestly Max is yet to find a person who gives less of a fuck about any rules. He'd love to watch someone challenge her about her actions. When fans or the media say Max doesn't care enough, he is always internally laughing because they don't know much about his girlfriend due to him choosing to keep his relationship as something that is private to him, but if they knew how little she cares about other's opinions or thoughts, they'd have a field day trying too rip into them.
Although it would make no difference, because if she doesn't love you or at least consider you a friend then your opinion means so little she'd probably ignore it if it came up in conversation.
"Y/n!" Max calls out making her stop before smiling and moving to the car. Her smile trigging his own.
"Hi, baby. Sorry, I'm late. The fucking flight got delayed." Y/n sighs as she leans as much as she can through the gap of the halo. "How's the practice going?"
"It's alright. Better now you're here." Max smiles while she laughs watching him unstrap his helmet and pull it up just enough for her to close the space between them, placing a kiss on his lips before moving back.
"I'll see you in a bit." Y/n states then moving when she gets a look from Christian which just screams that she's holding things up. She shoots him a thumbs up before rushing off to the back of the garage.
That's where she stays till Max appears having a brief moment between the practice ending where he moves to y/n.
"Hi, baby." Y/n smiles while Max sighs knowing he can't stay with her for long since FP1 is always an important practice for set up and data. "What's that look for? Is something wrong with the car?"
"No, I have missed you and now I have to wait even longer to spend time with you." Max sighs gently taking her hand. "I love you."
"I love you too, you dope. We've got plenty of time to spend together, don't worry."
He kisses her softly then moves to get dressed while y/n sits waiting for him. She's a big personality, but actually Max brings out a softer more quiet side that doesn't require so much volume. The same way she brings out Max's softer side in terms of him being less serious and angry.
She's not's always there for the races but the whole team sees a difference in the world champion when she is present and it's nothing they are complaining about.
-
"Does anyone know where y/n is?" Max asks after finishing up for the day and finding that y/n is nowhere to be found in the Red Bull unit.
"She's already waiting in your car, said something about you wanting to leave as soon as possible. So she figured she'd grab your stuff and meet you there. Thought she might've mentioned it." Helmut states making Max smile. "You ought to just go ahead and marry her if she makes you smile like that without even being in the same room."
"I'll see you tomorrow." Max smiles heading out and brightening when he gets past the security gate for the paddock, spotting y/n in his car. Clearly having grabbed some food before she left as she holds a bowl with chips in it. Instead of going to the driver's side, Max smiles opening the passenger side and crouching down behind the door while y/n looks at him. "Are you having a good time?"
"Yeah, actually." Y/n giggles then holding out a chip for him which he takes opening his mouth. "Are we not leaving?"
"No, we are, I just figured I'd just check you didn't secretly leave for some other reason." Max shrugs before standing up and leaning in to kiss her before moving back and closing the door. Hyperaware of the fact there was almost definitely cameras which captured the moment.
He doesn't necessarily mind people recording them, even if he likes that there's little known about y/n. It makes him feel more like this relationship really is just something for him and her. It's not a display of evidence that he has a heart.
"You know how much I love your smile." Y/n states making Max sigh and look at her for a moment.
This is not the first time Max has had to hear from his girlfriend about how much his smile means to her. She's spent hours telling him that he has the best smile and she can't imagine a life without his smiles after being so privileged to see them every time she sees him.
"You know how much I love you." Max replies making her sigh softly getting up in her seat and climbing into his lap earning a laugh before she cups his face kissing him several times. "I thought we were leaving."
"Maybe I just wanted to do this away from the team. Plus all the onlookers have left." Y/n smiles before she sighs. "I missed you while you've been gone."
"I've missed you too. I wish I could bring you with me all the time. But you won't let me."
"I think everyone would agree, I distract you too much when I'm around." Y/n sighs softly before she rests her head on his shoulder. "Let's just enjoy the peace and each other for a bit."
"Ok, that's fine with me." Max nods shifting the seat back so she has a bit more space without being squished.
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hi, idk if request are open but if they are can you please write a percy x reader fanfic where they hate each other but one thing leads to another and it gets kinda steamy
⋆ ˚。⋆౨ৎ˚ Enemies To Fuckers
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content: percy jackson x reader fic warning: language, mentions of sexual stuff but nothing extremely explicit, arguments but making up (ish) author's note: okay hot ass take rn - like center of the earth hot or leo valdez hot - i can't stand enemies to lovers. IM SORRY I KNOW ITS A BIG THING BUT THE CHILD OF DIVORCE THAT I AM CANNOT STAND IT!! like, no, i refuse to let my love be hard and painful like my parents, even if it does come from a good place. i just can't picture hate turning into love, even if it wasn't ever hate in the first place. that's what it was displayed as and the thought makes me want to throw up- ANYWAYS IGNORE THAT TRAUAMA DUMP FRFR ENJOY THIS OKAY BYE BYE
"you're insufferable!"
"feelings mutual, jackson!"
"rot in tartarus!"
"if it means getting away from you, gladly!"
"okay, okay, break it up," jason huffed, shoving his way between the two and pushing them apart. he glared at each of them before pointing off to separate sides of the argo ii.
"i don't want to see you two near each other for the next hour."
"she started it," percy whined, pointing accusatorily at her.
"did not!" the girl insisted, glaring at the son of poseidon.
"did too!"
"did no-"
"STOP! gods, you're giving me a headache. you two need to start getting along...go!" he shooed, shoving percy one way and you the other. the two of you held each other's glare for as long as possible before getting cut off by the walls that stood between the two of you. y/n rolled her eyes as she lost percy, making her way towards the kitchen. she breathed out a small breath as she started grabbing all the things she needed to make a cup of tea. y/n wasn't a naturally angry person but something about the blasted percy jackson just had her seething. everything from his dumb soft-looking hair, to his stupid stunning green-blue eyes, to his foolishly handsome face- wait, what?
she quickly shook her head, physically trying to get rid of the thoughts. she placed the kettle on the burner, sitting for the water to boil, leaning back against the counter next to the stove. then she heard footsteps and percy walked into the kitchen before huffing out a breath.
"i was here first. get lost, sea boy," you bit out, rolling your eyes as she continued to move into the kitchen.
"don't worry. i'm not here to see you. just grabbing some snacks and then you can be bitchy in here by yourself," percy mocked, throwing a fake salute your way, before reaching for whatever snacks he wanted.
"gods, do you ever shut the fuck up?" you asked, with a mock pitchy voice. percy pulled a face, mocking you under his breath with a roll of his eyes. you sighed heavily, reaching towards the kettle and going to pour it into your mug, at the same time looking away to glare at percy.
"do you realize that you're, like, a massive cun-"
"wait, its-"
"shit! ow, fuck!" you hissed, instantly pulling your hand back from the boiling water that you managed to pour all over your hand. tears instantly pooled in your eyes and had anyone else been in the kitchen with you, you'd be a puddle on the floor. but this was percy. who, strangely enough, was quickly taking care of the boiling water and kettle before gently grasping your hand in his to inspect. you tried to blame the blush filling your cheeks on embarrassment or rage, but you knew what it was.
"next time you wanna call me names, don't do it while pouring boiling water," hissed percy, reaching under the sink and producing a first aid kit. he easily wrapped your hand and you couldn't seem to take your eyes off his focused but worried face. worried...about you. the boy, who you were certain would serve you on a silver platter to any monster who offered him a penny and pre-chewed gum, was worried about you.
"thank you," you whispered as he finished, pulling your hand back. percy rolled his eyes but it was softer than usual, leaning back against the counter and hanging his head.
"yeah, uh, no problem. can't pick on you if youre hurt. think it counts as ableism or something," he replied, glancing over at you out of the corner of his eye. you nodded slowly, biting on your lip as your gaze drifted off.
"you shouldn't do that."
"hm?"
"your lip," he clarified, nodding with his head, "it- it's bad for you."
"oh yeah?" you taunted, squinting at him as you could sense the lie.
"yup."
"and, totally, not because it gets you all hot and bothered?" you added, tilting your head innocently. percy froze, clearing his throat before glaring over at you.
"no, of course not-"
"your dick is fighting you here," you winked, darting your eyes down before looking back into his eyes. percy burst into a deep shade of red, adjusting his body to hide behind an open cabinet door as you laughed.
"you didn't pay attention in biology then, because it also happens when you are just filled with so much rage-"
"sure, buddy," you teased, taking a few steps forwards before taking his chin into your hand, gently turning it before pressing a kiss just to the corner of his lips. a shuttering breath left his lips, fanning across your cheek.
"you're cute when you're not calling me a bitch," you mused, softly glancing up at him. percy breathed out a laugh, his eyes locked on yours.
"took you long enough to catch on," he taunted, unable to look away from the girl who's affection he's been trying to win for weeks.
"hmm, wanna make up for lost time?" she offered, tugging a small part of her lip into her mouth with her teeth. percy groaned, shooting his hand forwards and roughly pulling her face to smash into his, lips clashing and fighting for dominance. you two were tugging at each other, all the pent up anger melting away into a pure drive to keep each other's hands on the other.
as percy's hand slide under your shirt and as your hips brushed against his, the door to the kitchen swung open, to reveal a fuming jason grace.
"when i said you needed to start getting along, this is not what i meant. people eat here, you know."
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Me & my hubby!
—When you accidentally introduce your boyfriend as your husband
Fandom: Bungou Stray Dogs
Pairings: Dazai, Chuuya, Fyodor, Ranpo, Akutagawa, Jouno X Fem!Reader
Genre: Fluff, Humor
Format: Drabble
Warnings: Suggestive content in Dazai's
Word Count: 1.6K
A/n: This is very rushed so sorry if its not well written
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↳Osamu Dazai
As the door of the fitting room opened, your boyfriend came into sight. The white tuxedo hugged his slim frame perfectly, making his tall figure stand out even more. The color had given him an elegant look, which nearly made you wonder if he was the playful guy you were dating.
Dazai smirked as he picked up on your stun and flashed you a cheeky smirk. "Like what you see, Bella? You're staring a little too hard you know~"
Suddenly the fitting room seemed like the perfect place to show him how much you actually liked his new look. It didn't matter if you made a mess out of the tux, since you were about to buy it anyway.
"Oh Osamu... You should wear white more often"
"Everything alright here?"
The salesclerk was checking up on you with a warm smile.
"Ah yes! We would like to buy this one. It looks gorgeous on my husband"
You didn't exactly pay attention to your words, but seeing Dazai's eyebrows jump in surprise made you question your statement, and...
Oh.
Anxiety washed over you as you weren't exactly unfamiliar with your partner's commitment issues, but much to your surprise, Dazai wasn't upset nor terrified; his huge ass grin was showing off his joy and flatter.
"I'm her husband!"
For god's sake.
The salesclerk on the other hand was looking at you oddly, probably questioning her life choices.
"Ah, ok. Well then would you mind taking the tuxedo off? I'll wrap it up for you"
A snicker left your boyfriend's lips as he pulled you close by your waist. "Sure, but I might need my wife's help to take my clothes off. Will you be kind enough to help me out, Anata?"
"Oh shut up already!"
↳Chuuya Nakahara
One of the benefits of working at the same organization was that when your boyfriend had a mission overseas, you could go with him.
You had just arrived to your hotel after a five hour flight, which made you tired as hell since you couldn't sleep on the airplane. Although that wasn't enough to lessen your excitement for going on what could be some kind of a trip after you finish the job.
"Have you made a reservation beforehand ma'am?"
"No, it was kind of rushed. Would that be a problem?"
The receptionist shook his head to the side. "Not at all. Lucky for you, we still have some rooms available"
The door of the hotel opened and Chuuya came in, approaching you with your luggage in his hand. You looked back at the receptionist. "Great! Then I'd like a room for two people. We're going to be here for a while since my husband needs to take care of some stuff from work; right, honey?"
Chuuya froze in the spot and a light shade of crimson appeared on his cheeks. This was definitely unexpected. It made him feel butterflies in his stomach in a good way and somehow questioned all the logic that made him avoid thinking about the future of your relationship.
"Well your husband doesn't seem to be sure" The receptionist commented in a humorous way. "Alright then, here's your key"
On the way to your room there was a silence that couldn't exactly be marked as "uncomfortable". Chuuya was wearing a warm smile yet so drowned in his thoughts that you refused to take him out of his zone. However, when you reached the door, he suddenly lifted you up, making you suddenly gasp and gaze at him with astonishment.
"What are you doing?"
"What a good husband is supposed to do"
The familiar beam was back on his face.
"I'm carrying my wife to our shared hotel room"
↳Ranpo Edogawa
"Ranpo! You can't eat this whole cake!"
Going to the bakery had become some sort of tradition since you and your boyfriend started dating. You went there every afternoon, tasted the new pastries, you lectured him to not get carried away and he stopped you by shoving a cookie in your mouth. That was pretty much repetitive, except that something extra was coming along today.
"I can and I will. That's why it's called sample y/n" He munched on his cheesecake, delighted by the sweet taste lingering in his mouth.
"Well Mr. detective, It's a sample so you should just take one bite and then move on! If you like it then just buy one!"
The baker chuckled and walked toward you. She knew you since you were regulars there, and she had enough respect for the president to not throw a tantrum over a few pieces of cake. "It's alright Miss y/n. Let the man eat his sweets"
"You don't understand ma'am! My husband eats way too much sweets and that's not healthy at all! What if he comes down with diabetes or something?!"
Ranpo stopped chewing for a brief second and looked at you from the corner of his eye. The lady on the other hand, was more excited than shocked. "You got married? Oh! Congratulations! It's nice to know that Mr. Ranpo has finally settled down!"
You didn't know if you should correct yourself or hide your red cheeks. "I— I meant that— " "Please have some more cake! They're on the house. Consider them a gift from me"
As she left you alone, you finally turned to your boyfriend to see his reaction, which was exactly the way you expected it to be; smug and playful. "Ah, I went into this marriage with so much hope"
"Oh grow up!"
↳Fyodor Dostoevsky
"How's your steak honey?" You asked, looking at your boyfriend with curiosity. He had been taking bites reluctantly, swallowing without actually tasting the meat.
"It's burnt to a crisp, even though I ordered it medium rare" He gently wiped his mouth with the napkin, placing the cutlery on the table. You gave the dish a once over and flagged the waiter down. After a while he approached your table. "Is there a problem, ma'am?"
"Yes. My husband ordered his steak medium rare and as you can see, this is not what he asked for"
My... Husband?
"Eh, so... He'd like his steak... Medium rare... Please?" Awkwardness was hitting you and you really didn't want to be alone with Fyodor right now, but unfortunately, you were on a date and there were no way to escape from it.
The waiter excused himself after apologizing and taking the plate back to the kitchen. He did find your sudden change of expression odd, but he didn't say anything since he wasn't asking for less tip. However, Fyodor was completely ready to bring it up. You could tell that based on his grin, but you were doing your best not to face him at that moment.
Not that it was enough to stop him.
"How's your pasta Mrs. Dostoevsky?" "Fedya! Stop!"
↳Ryuunosuke Akutagawa
Getting sick on valentine's day was not originally your plan, but at least you got to visit the doctor together. You were now waiting for the secretary to call your names.
"How long should we wait?"
Covering your mouth with a tissue, you lightly coughed. "Anytime now. All the people ahead of us went inside"
Akutagawa glanced at the door of the doctor's office and nodded. He had made a reservation at your favorite restaurant today and was planning to take you to some place nice afterwards, get on one knee and ask you to spend the rest of your life with him, but you suddenly got sick. It's not like he could be mad at you. It was not your fault, but... It seemed like the perfect opportunity. The perfect day for a memorable gesture...
"Mrs. Akutagawa! You're up"
Akutagawa.
She was referring to you, with his last name.
You had introduced yourself as Akutagawa. He was sure you did it accidentally since your face was redder than a tomato now, but still, he never thought hearing it would feel so... special.
The raven-haired man held your hand and leaded you to the doctors office, a ghost of a smile spread on his face. He might've lost the chance to propose now, but it's not the end of the world. You're stuck with him and not going anywhere, so he would try to make the perfect plan for a perfect proposal, for the perfect girl.
↳Saigiku Jouno
"Are you sure this is the store?" Your boyfriend crossed his arms.
"For the thousandth time! Yes!" "Well, you were also sure that you knew my size but it turns out you were wrong" "Ugh! Let's just get inside!"
Thanks to his job, Jouno was always on endless missions and barely had time to rest, let alone go shopping. You this T-shirt when you were walking by and you just couldn't help but to imagine your boyfriend in it. It might've cheered him up if it was his size.
The clerk recognized you the second you set foot in the store. "Oh hi ma'am! Welcome back!"
"Hi Amaya. Thank you. So, remember how I was not sure if the T-shirt was my boyfriend's size?"
She only nodded with a forced smile, because how could she forgot? You spent fifteen minutes staring at the T-shirt, wondering if it would fit him.
"Well, it wasn't" Jouno's smile got wider and you sighed. "Yeah yeah, I admit it. I don't know what size is suitable for my husband. I'm the worst partner ever. Can we please change this one and leave?"
"I don't understand ma'am"
For real? You just can't take a break.
"I'm saying that the T-shirt was too big for him!" "Yeah I got that, but I thought he was your boyfriend?" "What do you mean you— oh!"
No.
No no no no no no no no.
Jouno's smirk was still on, and now with a little smugness. He was clearly enjoying himself.
"If this is your way of proposing, it's really lame" "Oh shut up you big jerk!"
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5K notes · View notes
cythena · 19 days
Text
‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ CLOSER
‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ " i just can't leave you alone "
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synopsis . . . choso is so infatuated with the shy girl from his forensics class. his hobbies outside of school make it so easy to get to know more about her but he just wants to get closer to her.
warnings . . . college au, ghostface!choso, reader is very sick in the head, dubcon, dark content, reader has longish hair but the texture can be in whatever way you want, breeding, slapping, hair pulling, bdsm (not with reader), choking, breaking n entering, stalking, porn, choso is a huge creep, voyeurism
notes . . . 2.7k words, 10 minute read, a little longer than usual. this is not not sum light but iykyk. so proceed with caution if you're concerned.
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his eyes are attached to every movement you make. it could be anything. you clicked your pen, your head slightly tilting to the left, your sigh after glancing at the clock. he noticed it all. he loved it. it was the way he passed his time at 10 in the morning. unfortunately, this was the only avaliable time for this class but fortunately for choso, it was the same time you picked.
you were a dream; pouty lips and doe eyes fit your soft face. then he could drag his eyes down to your chest, admire your waist, and fantasize about your hips. he had an hour of time with you, albeit a table away from you, but still. for an hour, he memorized every feature he could to save later for his sketchbook.
he would arrive early just to see you walk in, and sometimes you would walk past his seat. on those days, he would catch a whiff of your delicate perfume. it was sweet vanilla, soft. you'd think it would fit you. you looked very sweet, with your hair styled with bows and a large collection of skirts. your voice rose in pitch whenever your existence was acknowledged by others.
but choso's seen you. he's really seen you — in such a raw state that no one had the faintest clue about it. you're very forgetful, leaving your curtains open like you wanted him to watch. you were such a tease. your room was true to your aesthetic. he watched you open up your sanrio decorated laptop and settle into your lush bed. from his angle, he could see the screen with you.
you leaned against your pillows as your fingertips moved naturally to a website. the sight excited him to the core and he started spinning his various rings around his fingers. he wasn't dumb, he knew you would get lonely. but he wasn't sure what site you were on. nevertheless, he was so interested in what softcore video caught your eye. you weren't into the dirty stuff. you liked it clean, amateur for sure.
to his surprise, your video was nothing of the sort. a masked man pulled on the bare girl's chain. her skin was red and dripping. a grin spread across her lips as the huge man slapped his cock on her face. your hand was already between your legs. your pajama top had the first few buttons popped open while your other hand palmed your tit.
choso's cock hardened at the view. your lips parted as you played with yourself. he was eager to join you, but he stopped himself — forced himself to burn the moment into his memory. the priceless sight needed to stay with him forever.
the woman and the video was tossed onto the bed. the camera propped in front of her face but a majority of the man was visible. his upper body towered over her as a large hand left bright marks onto her ass. her face contorted in pleasure. choso wondered how your face really looked now. he wanted to hear your sounds.
your thighs clenched together around your hand. your shoulders caved in and your entire body shook. choso's breath quickened. the man in the video wrapped his hand around her neck. he yanked her against his chest while keeping her pinned by the waist.
you quickly pressed a hand over your mouth while your eyes shut. chills racked through choso's spine. he wasn't sure he blinked until you were settled in your bed again and your laptop was shut. his hand clutched the neck of his shirt, now feeling warmer than before.
he took a moment to gather himself. his legs felt like jelly. he sank down to the grass outside your window but stared at your windowsill. the small window of light shining on the grass suddenly snapped off. you finally shut the curtains and he knew it was time to go. standing up, he felt an odd warm feeling in his pants.
looking down, he could barely see the faint glistening on his dark pants.
"fuck..."
that was months ago. over time, he's felt closer to you. you've shared so many intimate moments together, unknowingly. in his mind, you've consummated your love on numerous occasions. but it still wasn't enough. he wanted to really touch you.
he wanted to kiss you and caress your hips. in the same thought, he imagined his knuckles rubbing against your scalp as he pulled your hair back. he knew you would love that. your dirty searches told him many secrets. they helped him collect so much information about you.
there were a few attributes those videos shared. they were nasty, dirty, spit and cum covered those girls entirely. those girls were treated like a personal pets to serve those men. but the one that was in every single video, no matter the genre...those men were always masked.
even the nights you decided to take a softer route, the man's identity was unknown. it seemed you had a strong taste for the mystery. he's never seen you take a second glance at any video with a man's face.
he was so proud to know this about you. he watched you walk past him every day and all he could think about was how you would feel if he was the man and you were his to use. you'd be a toy he could never get tired of. he's felt a cord attach the two of you ever since. it was made of the secrets you shared.
the videos started getting more intense, more bloody and brutal, and your orgasms became harsher. this video had the man forcing himself into the unsuspecting girl's room. the man covered her mouth to stop what choso assumed were her loud moans.
choso watched your heaving chest. you're such a sick freak, he thought but he wondered...if watching it made you cum so hard, then would experiencing it be even better? an unknown and unexpected man having his way with you. he cock ached with the desire to climb through your window and test your theory.
you were much earlier today, choso had barely arrived and settled in to wait for you when you walked in. he was sliding his rings on his fingers again when he heard your footsteps. you looked so adorable. you wore a white tank top with a cute bow decorating your cleavage and a brown skirt. you were so effortlessly pretty in his eyes.
your perfume was different today too. you must've run out of your vanilla pearl. he loved the scent so much he went a bought a bottle to remind him of you. he'd spray it on his shirts every night. this new scent was fresh, floral. it was so light and refreshing. the charming mixture of flowers was irresistible. it lingered around him.
"excuse me, choso, would it be alright if i moved to sit with you? i'm sorry, i just wanted to see better."
you nervously tugged on the strap of your bag. your index and thumb toyed with the cat pin on it. the smile forced itself onto his face. he hoped it wasn't scaring you. there was no stopping the joy of hearing you say his name.
"yeah, that's alright." he even pulled the chair out for you to sit with him. the table had enough space for the both of you yet he scooted it a little closer to his side.
minutes of silence passed. choso had decided to entertain himself with your his sketchbook. it was his but the only thing he could bring himself to draw was you. it didn't look like that at first glance but it was you. he could draw you from his pure memory. there was you sleeping, playing in makeup, changing. one of you sitting in class caught your eye. you admired the faceless drawing.
"you're really good."
choso stopped, feeling heat rise to his cheeks. he even tried to cover some of the drawing with his palm. he could see part of your smile from the corner of his eye.
"thank you...do you wanna see more?" he offered, feeling his nerves tingling.
now you scooted closer to him. your shoulder pressed against his now. he slid the sketchbook over to the middle of you. his mind wandered and he could no longer completely focus on giving you a tour of his drawings — not when your tits were so close to him. he could ever see a little of your bra peeking out in a gap.
your nail ended up pointing to the one of you changing shirts. it was the one time you faced the window. he remembered you didn't even bother to put on a shirt again that night.
"this is the same girl, isn't it? why don't you draw her face?" you asked.
"she's too pretty, i'd never be able to do her justice."
your eyes widened, for a second you wished he was saying it about you. still, it was romantic. oh. it also meant choso had a girlfriend.
"she must be beautiful then."
you were so clueless to his affections if one could even call them that. you stared at him with what looked like stars in your eyes. he couldn't bring himself to look any further. instead, he pulled the sketchbook closer to himself and smiled at your portraits.
"incredibly."
every time choso set up outside of your bedroom window was more exhilarating than the last. it was his favorite part of the evening. it was your time together. tonight he would be doing you a favor. he felt significantly better about it knowing you'd appreciate it. he knew you better than anyone and tonight he'd proof it.
he wanted to get to you before you were ready for bed. you were in the shower for twenty minutes so when you grabbed your towel and left the room, he pushed open the window. he was careful not to dirty your clean floor as he tiptoed towards your door. he stood and waited for the water to stop running.
choso's heart raced, blood and adrenaline pumping a thousand times faster. his fingers twitched at the touch of sinking into your flesh, especially the clean skin after your shower. he ran his fingers over the textured metal and pressed against them. he was finally going to make you his even if you didn't know it was him.
time couldn't have gone by any faster. the water shut off and within minutes your footsteps came padding down the hall. he adjusted his mask in your mirror, the white ghost mask identical to the man's in the videos.
the door opened and his hand smacked over your mouth. he shoved your back to his chest and pinned you against him. he held you close, inhaling this new strawberry scent of your soap. his hand caressed the side of your hip.
"calm down," his chilling voice demanded. your breathing slowed and he relaxed as well. you stared at your reflection. this form towered over you. the towel you clutched to your chest began slipping out of your grasp.
choso steadily removed his hand from your mouth, ready to clasp it again if needed. "good girl, you can be a good girl for me. yeah, get on the bed." he patted your side and let you walk towards your bed. he stalked behind you. you turned around to face him with teary eyes. he tucked your chin between his thumb and index.
he moved your hands away from the towel and let it pool around your hips now. your soft breast filled his palm nicely. he felt like such a virgin looking at your body. it's like even when he's so close you can't help but be a little tease.
"spread, now."
you were so obedient. you followed every command like a well trained puppy. he kneeled between your spread legs, shifting the towel completely off of your thighs. your body was everything he ever dreamed of and more. he wanted a taste but this stupid mask was in his way.
he hovered over you, trapping you between him and the wall. you slapped your hand over your mouth when he snatched your neck. the mesh couldn't hide the beautiful panic on your face. your breathing quickened. he forced you to look into the droopy eyes of the mask while he unzipped his pants.
what he really wanted to do was kiss you. then, he wanted to hear his name. next time.
he didn't give you a warning when he shoved two fingers into your cunt. you squealed against your own palm — the most heavenly noise he's ever heard and it was his doing. you were at his mercy. the cold metal sent chills through your walls. he twisted and curled his fingers inside of you, pulling you closer to your finish.
he squeezed your neck enough to make your eyes cross and you go dizzy. a smile planted on your lips behind your hand. your walls contracted around his fingers and stayed tight.
he admired the strings of slick between his fingers. he needed it. he was so desperate to taste you. so he slipped his fingers underneath his mask and into his mouth where he sucked every last intoxicating drop. it seemed everything about you was sweet except that fucked up head of yours.
he yanked your legs around his waist, lining your hole up perfectly with his hard cock. the tip swept against your clit. your sensitive body reacted to every touch. he wanted you to beg for him to do something. he didn't care what it was just, beg.
he planted his hands on your waist. you clawed at his forearms while writhing. "please," you whimpered. "please, sir, i wanna feel you."
"my dirty girl." taking your breath away, he buried himself into your hole. you were so full of him it felt impossible. he gathered your wrists in one hand while slamming his cock into you.
drool dripped out the corner of your mouth stuffed with choso's thumb. you loved grabbing onto nothing and digging your nails into your own palm. you sank your teeth into your quivering bottom lip. choso laid a slap on your cheek and you moaned.
"oh! please! f-feels so good!" you gasped. moans continued to interrupt any word you could think to say. you just gave up trying to speak. he kept reminding himself that next time you'll be crying his name.
the need to feel you tighten around his cock powered him. he frantically drove himself into your hole working towards that blissful release for both of you.
he forced you further into the mattress by the neck. it was like his strength tripled when with you. it was like he was fucking a message into you. a message he wouldn't leave until he knew it was engraved in your mind.
"you're all fucking mine. all mine. say it."
"aha! yes!" you grinned. "i'm all yours!"
he dropped your bruised hands and you gripped his shoulders. your eyes crossed and rolled back into your head. your body convulsed as you tried to steady yourself with his shoulders. you felt your legs go weak and slip from his waist.
he flipped you over to your knees, his thick hands grabbed onto your waist while pushing you into the bed. it was pure instinct at this point. he brought his hand deep into the strands of your hair. using this, he made you squeal when he yanked your head back. tears fell from your doe eyes.
every signal in body told him he needed to fill you and he wasn't going to stop until he did. he let out a heavy growl with his head throw back as his cum spilled into you. he stayed inside you, forcing his seed to stay inside you.
"thank you," you breathed. choso rubbed your bruised hips and other darker spots littered across your body. he inhaled your scent again before pushing himself off of you. he watched you roll onto your side and close your eyes.
the next school day, you took your seat next to choso. you bounced into class with a bright smile. today your perfume was new. it was a sweet strawberry scent that filled his nose. he is cheeks heated up, remembering your smell that night.
"good morning choso," you smiled as you began unpacking your bag.
"good morning y/n."
choso shut his sketchbook and spread his palm over it. something you dropped clattered on the desk. looking back down, he saw one of his rings spinning around. he swept it up and slid it back on his finger.
"i knew it looked familiar but i think there was one more. could you come get it tonight?"
of course you knew. you shared every sick fantasy with him. "i'll be there tonight."
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— © cythena 2024. do not share on tiktok, plagiarize, repost on other platforms, copy, or translate.
644 notes · View notes
glitterquadricorn · 1 month
Text
Look What You Made Me Do - MV1
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+summary: The couple was once thought to be the modern-day Romeo and Juliet (minus the unaliving part). Where you saw her, Max was not too far behind and vice versa. And despite his father's insistence to stay from her, he simply couldn't. He was enthralled by her and her persistence on the track. Together, they rose through the ranks and found themselves to be teammates in Formula one. But their story turns sour when Max betrays her in the worst way possible. +pairing: Max Verstappen x F1!driver +warnings: cheating, mentions the p*quets, curse words, hate comments, poorly edited. If i missed something, let me know.
face claim: Florence Pugh
I do not give my permission to have my work reposted. I do not give my permission to have my work translated. If I'm notified that you've stolen my work or claim it as your own, you'll be asked to take it down before I'll report you. End of discussion.
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Her phone constantly vibrated against the glass coffee table of Max and Her's home. People were mentioning her in a tweet made from one of those wag accounts saying that Max was spotted with another woman that wasn't her and that he could be cheating. 'Max wouldn't cheat on me, right?' she thought to herself. Although, she remembered he had been acting rather weird lately. But him acting weird could mean anything.
The sound of the front door opening and closing and keys hitting the ceramic bowl alerted her that Max was home. Her eyes went straight to the bright orange bag in his hand. The same bright orange bag from the picture in the tweet.
"What's going on in that head of yours, Schatz?" Max hugged her, kissing the top of her head. He smelled like her.
"Thinking about what to make for dinner. Anything in particular?"
"I was thinking we could get takeout."
"Sounds good." She watched as Max turned towards their bedroom and tucked neatly into the collar of his shirt, which was a redbull shirt no shock there, was a semi dark hickey. A hickey she knew she didn't put there. Maybe that one tweet was right.
Dinner that night was a silent affair. The question of rather or not he was actually cheating weighed heavily on her mind. One half of her was being completely ignorant and believing Max would never do such a thing. The other half, the rational half, are putting the pieces together and ringing the alarm bells and are practically shouting from the rooftops that he is most definitely cheating. It was getting to be too much for her.
"Are you cheating on me?"
Max began choking on the water in his mouth. "What? Are you crazy? Where are you even getting this from?"
"It's just- I kept getting tagged in that one tweet-"
"And you believe it? You know those kinds of accounts make stuff up."
"Never said I did, Max," she said. "But explain the orange shopping bag, or how you got that hickey on your neck, or how you smell like none of the perfumes I have."
"I don't have to deal with this." Max stood up from the table and y/n followed after him.
"So, they're true?"
"Y/n, I don't want to talk about this right now."
"Well, that's just too damn bad. We're talking about this now because If we don't it won't get talked about at all."
Max faced her, his body shaking with anger. "Fine! Yes, I did cheat on you. Is that what you wanted to hear? How you weren't good enough and will never be good enough for me? How you'll never be good enough for anyone? How sometimes I can't fucking stand you to be around you? You. are. insufferable."
Her eyes started to fill with tears. In all the years she's known Max, he's never not once gotten this mad nor has he ever been this hateful. As if he realized what he's said, he began to apologize profusely.
"I'm so, so sorry, Schatz." Max tried to come closer to comfort her, but she stepped away.
"Thanks for letting me know how you really feel about me, Max. I'll uh get out of your hair."
"Y/n, please-"
"No amount of apologizing will ever make me forget what you said. You were the love of my life, the man that I thought I was going to spend the rest of my life with and have kids with."
"But we can still have that!"
"It's rather funny you're trying to save a relationship you destroyed," she chuckled loudly at Max's audacity. "Tell me, how long have you been cheating? And be honest, I deserve that much."
With his head hung low in shame, he mumbled, "Nearly a year."
"Unbelievable."
Before heading off to their bedroom to pack some clothes, she looked at the man she once loved. "You know, I've dealt with a lot in my life. I've traveled the world seeing it in a whole new light while doing what I loved, been in a crash or two that was painful, seen and experienced things I didn't think I'd be able to experience, but this... this hurts the most."
Once she left the house, she got in her car and tapped on her lawyer's number, texting him.
I don't care how you do it, but just get me out my redbull contract. DON'T TELL ANYONE ABOUT THIS.
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yourinstagram(left) and maxverstappen1(right) . 2hrs ago
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yourinstagram
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liked by taylorswift, lilymhe, pierregasly and 932,312 others.
yourinstagram: Mama Tay once said don't get sad, get even 💅🏻💋#newsponsor #newthingsarecoming
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taylorswift I taught you well young grasshopper. liked by yourinstagram
lilymhe where are you going dressed like that? cause damn. ⤷ yourinstagram sponsorship meeting with a new sponsor.
user1 you want to explain that second picture?
user2 looking respectfully.
user3 new things coming? what's that supposed to mean? ⤷ user4 she did say she got a new sponsor and I assume it's with Chanel. ⤷ user5 I can't help but think the whole new things coming means something else.
pierregasly 👀👀 ⤷ yourinstagram just taking lessons from you.
francisca.cgomes are you single? ⤷ yourinstagram why yes, I am. you asking me out on a date? ⤷ francisca.cgomes of course! ⤷ pierregasly I'm right here you know. ⤷ yourinstagram I'll make sure to have her home before midnight 😉
user6 not y/n flirting with pierre's girlfriend 🤣
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For half an hour, she sat on the couch listening to Lando, Logan, Charles and Pierre answer questions about their summer break, their hopes for the second half of the season and what they want for their teams/cars. Not one question came her way, and she was happy about that. She hated doing media with a passion. She could understand they had bills to pay, families to support, but if she could get away with not doing any kind of media without being fined for it, she'd happily do it.
Just when she thought she'd have an easy day, a reporter she was familiar with, one she has had problems with since her debut in 2021, raised her hand.
"Mackenzie Smith, Espn. I have a question for you, y/n," she smiled. "Over the summer break there was a rumor going around saying you were leaving redbull at the end of the season. Is that true? Can you maybe give some insight on that?"
It's an innocent question to ask, but knowing Mackenzie, she'll somehow go off topic and ask questions she has no business asking about.
"Accounts like that always make up some of the most ridiculous things for clicks. Unfortunately, people believe it and until me, or my agent confirms it, then it's just that. A rumor."
Mackenzie huffed, clearly not satisfied with that answer. But if there's something about Mackenzie everyone should know, is she has a habit of asking rather intrusive questions she has no business asking. "Your relationship with fellow driver, Max Verstappen, ended over the summer break as well."
"My relationship, or lack thereof, is not yours or anyone's business. End of discussion."
"But he-"
"Yeah, and I said end of discussion. What part of that did you not understand?" she paused. "Now, does anyone have any other questions? No? Okay."
She sat the microphone down beside her and walked out the room. Was she going to get lectured by her PR manager? Yeah. Was she going to be fined for walking out? Probably. But she didn't care and if there was one thing she knew she didn't have to sit there and be questioned about her personal life.
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porscheformula1team
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liked by yourinstagram, mickschumacher, and 1,253,549 others.
porscheformula1team: Come meet our drivers! Mick, who is returning to the f1 grid after missing out on the 2023 season and Y/n, who finished 2nd in the drivers' standings. The future for Porsche looks bright!
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yourinstagram Thank you for this amazing opportunity, Porsche. ⤷porscheformula1team: No, thank you for taking the risk and signing with us.
mickschumacher It's good to be back in formula one.
user7 while I am excited for Mick to be back, I just think y/n is a backstabber for leaving a team that pretty built her entire career. ⤷user6 did you honestly think y/n would stick around after Max cheated on her?
user8 this is the best thing to wake up to!
user9 redbull was holding y/n back, so it's a good thing she left.
user10 future wdc winners? liked by mickschumacher, yourinstagram,porscheformula1team
user11 best driver's pairing in f1 liked by porscheformula1team
user12 signing these two was the biggest mistake Porsche ever made. ⤷porscheformula1team we beg to differ. ⤷user13 Porsche defending mick and y/n 🥰🤗
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Max Why didn't you tell me you were leaving? When did you even sign with porsche?
Y/N Didn't know I was obligated to tell you I was leaving. I signed back in August after I got that Chanel sponsor.
Max YOU SIGNED BACK IN AUGUST?! WTF
Y/N I move fast just like you.
Max What's that supposed to mean?
Y/N It means you're okay with getting into a relationship with Kelly 2 weeks after we broke up.
Max You're being childish, y/n.
Y/N Did you really think I'd stay after you cheated? In 2024, you better get used to being behind me because that WDC is mine.
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Don't let this flop. I worked real hard on it.
ALL PICTURES ARE FROM PINTEREST AND CREDIT TO THE OWNERS.
Tagging:
@letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked @patzammit @tinycyberhacker @keenmarvellover @mrspeacem1nusone @lendeluxe @alexxavicry @allenajade-ite @catswag22 @eugene-emt-roe @wcnorris @bibissparkles @cherry-piee
706 notes · View notes
libraryofloveletters · 4 months
Text
Stuff It
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Charles Leclerc x Fem!Reader
Warnings: cheesy boyfriend charles, horrible artistic skills, pascale knows you two are just idiots in love, first christmases together.
Word Count: 661
Author's Note: charles seems like the type of guy to go to his mom when he's stuck on what to give as a gift so here we are lmao
--
Charles goes a bit over board seeing that it’s your first Christmas with him, as his girlfriend that is. He revives an old tradition you two had as children.
The thing about lifelong friendships, they often leave a little to no room for a surprise.
So on you and Charles, your lifelong best friend, finally being to date, there isn't much he could do to surprise you.
It's your first Christmas together as a couple officially, and Charles just wants to do something to make it special for you. He's tried to do everything he could think of, from googling to Pinterest to asking his brothers, who let's be real, weren't much help. He finally turned to the one person he knows would have an answer for him.
"Maman, je ne sais pas quoi faire." (Mom, I don't know what to do.) Charles's chin rests on the palm of his hand, watching as his mom cuts the fruit at the kitchen counter
Pascale hums, as if in thought for a moment before she speaks. "Why don't you stuff a stocking for her?"
"I'm not 6 years old, maman." He huffs, his brows furrowed and she smiles - he looked exactly like he did when he was 6 years old right now.
"I know that Charles, but when you guys were little you used to exchange stockings, remember? You draw her a picture and we put sweets and little toys in for her."
Charles tries to think, it sounded familiar and he nods. "Yeah, okay."
"Are you staying for lunch ?" The woman asks and he shakes his head, kissing her cheek after he gets up. "I'll be back tomorrow, love you!" He shouts to her as he heads out the door.
He has the shops with one thing in mind, find you a stocking that suited you best. He searches and searches and with no luck does he find one with a picture that suits you. Finally in a last ditch effort, he ends up in some random shop that sold random odds and ends for Christmas.
There's a blue stocking with snowflakes, and printed along the side of it with your initials on the top; Charles thinks what is his luck to find this.
He pays the man at the counter and heads home with the stocking shoved into the bag. He had picked up a few things he thought you'd like while he was at the other store.
The stocking sits on the coffee table, filled with all your favourite beauty products, sweets, and a few other odds and ends that Charles thinks that you might need or like.
He was working on the last thing that he wanted to put in, a drawing of you and him in front of his race car, which was, in his words, rather poorly drawn.
He folds the paper carefully, slipping it into the side of the stocking before picking it up to put it away before you come home.
It was as if he summoned you, the front door opened and in you came with a bag in hand. "Hi love," you smiled.
Charles's hands are behind his back and he's a bit shifty. You look at your boyfriend with raised eyebrows. "You okay?"
"I have something for you," he says, pulling the stocking out from behind his back.
You can't help but laugh, a big smile on your face as you reach into the bag that you brought in with you. You pull out a red stocking with Christmas trees on it and show Charles.
"Did you talk to my mom?" He asks, as you two switch stockings. You nod, smiling, "I guess you did too."
It was no surprise that you and Charles found your way to each other, you are identical in almost every way. The stockings contain a few of the same things, the same sweets, the same drawings.
To be fair, your drawing was a bit better than Charles' but it's the thought that counts.
Your hand rests on his jaw, giving him a kiss. "thank you baby, this is the sweetest thing you could have done."
985 notes · View notes
hitomisuzuya · 9 months
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More threesome or technically foursome brainrot. Scaramouche x fem! reader Wanderer x fem!reader Kunikuzushi x fem!reader. Smut. Degradation. Praise. Cunnilingus. Fingering. Choking. Dacryphilia.
I saw a lot of people requesting more of this, so I decided to write some more stuff for it.
It's Kunikuzushi who is crying and whining for you, rubbing his head between your legs. "Please let me taste you," He whimpered, his cheeks flushed as his tongue sweeps out to kitten lick your clit.
Scaramouche holds you down with one hand, spreading your legs apart for Kunikuzushi with the other. "He has been crying for you like that all day. Now be a good slut, and quiet him down."
Wanderer pushes Kunikuzushi's face further against your cunt, making him groan in bliss as he latches his lips onto your clit. Wanderer's fingers pinch and pull on one of your nipples.
Kunikuzushi would gaze up at you, studying your every expression as he licked and sucked on your clit. His grip suddenly tightens possessively on your hip. "You taste perfect, whore," He's seen the way you react whenever Scaramouche or Wanderer degrades you, so he wanted to try it to. He giggles, delighted into your cunt when your walls clamp tight around his tongue.
Scaramouche and Wanderer make you kneel between them, alternating between sucking their cocks and jacking them off. Wanderer would command you to open your mouth and stick out your tongue for them to cum on.
Kunikuzushi who gets swept away by the pleasure of fucking you that he wraps his hand around your throat, enjoying the way you mewl and squirm when his cock kisses your sweet spot.
Scaramouche who stuffs his fingers inside of your dripping cunt, ruining orgasm after orgasm until you are babbling and begging him to let you cum.
Wanderer who sucks relentlessly on your nipples to overstimulate you. He wants to see your eyes well with tears as your walls flutter and clamp sensitive around his cock when he bottoms out inside of you.
Scaramouche who wants to watch you play with and finger yourself while he jacks himself off. He'll control the pace of your fingers. Your pleading cries about how you can't make yourself cum on your fingers is what makes his cum spill warm onto your chest.
"Listen to this whore, begging for us to fuck her again," Wanderer groans, gripping your hips as he fucks you from behind.
Kunikuzushi would needily push his cock against your lips as Scaramouche bounced you on his cock. "Since I swallowed your cum, its your turn to swallow mine," He forces your mouth down onto his cock, holding your head in place as he ruins your throat.
Wanderer who smacks a hand across your ass, telling you to loosen up your cunt so he fuck his cock inside your cunt at the same time as Scaramouche. Each thrust from Wanderer fucked you harder onto Scaramouche's cock.
Kunikuzushi cums twice down your throat as he watches Scaramouche and Wanderer abuse your cunt at the same time. Their cum leaks out of your cunt when they pulled out of you. You aren't sure have many times you squirted, screaming that you can't take it anymore, but not stop to either.
"Slut is so fucked out she doesn't know up from down," Wanderer groans, fucking his cum and Scaramouche's back up inside of you.
Kunikuzushi who licks your tears away after he brings you to squirt, screaming on his fingers from sucking on your nipples.
Scaramouche who kisses you passionately after he eats you out.
When you plead that you can't cum anymore, they each prove you wrong, fucking you senseless until you can't comprehend a thing or form a coherent word.
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lemonlover1110 · 1 year
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𝐂𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐒
Aki Hayakawa
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Pairing: Aki Hayakawa x f!Reader
Summary: The man who revises your paper is straight out of your sex dream. You'll let him do almost anything for him- Except smoke inside your room when he so desperately needs it. But he finds an alternative for his cigarette. And afterwards he can't stop thinking about you.
Warnings: MDNI, Alternate Universe, Smut, Vaginal Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Oral Sex (m. and f. receiving), Spitting, Public Sex, Creampie, Aki has tattoos and is hot (as always)
Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi
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“Okay… The essay is good, it just needs a few changes.” Aki says, leaning down as he reads the paper in his hand. He’s focused on helping you, and you’re focused on him. Arms and neck filled with tattoos. Both ears pierced. Hair up in a knot. You’ve never seen him around, if you had, you would’ve remembered. And now you’re wondering how you’ve never seen him before. You’re too focused on his face and not at the fact that he’s pointing at the pen in your hand. You’re brought back to reality when he clears his throat, “May I?”
“Oh, yes. Sorry.” You awkwardly chuckle, giving him your pen. He begins to circle and underline the areas that you need to work on, and you feel your cheeks get warm. You’re embarrassed but you don’t know if it’s because he caught you staring mindlessly at him, or the fact that your paper has so many mistakes.
Your roommate, Himeno, suggested that you go to the library so they could check your paper. You find yourself understanding the content, but when it comes to writing an essay in any class, you always get a mediocre grade. Himeno said that one of her friends is helping out, you never asked who it was, and you obviously didn’t bother looking for them. You saw Aki available and went up to him immediately. He luckily could help with the subject you needed help in.
“You have all the right ideas, they’re just disorganized.” He adds, which you don’t know if it makes you feel better or worse about yourself. You know the material, you just don’t know how to properly word it. He takes a seat beside you, all his attention on the paper. Your eyes shift from his focused face to the paper in his hands. He’s nitpicking any minor mistake in your writing. It almost hurts your feelings, even though you know he’s trying to help you.
You came here because you needed help, and he’s giving it to you. Although your mind wanders off, as you watch him move his lips. He’s explaining what you need to fix so your paper receives an adequate grade, yet your brain doesn’t comprehend anything. You’re nodding, acting as if you’re understanding a word he says. Your eyes are staring at the peek of the dragon tattoo that he has on his neck, and you notice that it starts on his arm. Although he has many other tattoos on his arms
“Do you understand?” He asks, which brings you back to reality. You try to smile, trying to hide the fact that you don’t understand and that you were zoning out because he is, in fact, fucking hot.
“I do, thank you, Hayakawa.” You end up responding. He gives you your paper back, and you stuff it back in your bag before standing up.
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When you’re back in your apartment, you lock yourself in your room to finish up homework for other classes. You’re thinking of the man that helped you with the best of his ability, while fixing up the essay. You type away on your computer, making the near perfect essay. You come to a stop on the third paragraph to look back at the paper and reread the suggestion he made. 
His handwriting looks neat yet sloppy at the same time, and the way certain letters are written makes you chuckle because who writes them like that? You like his handwriting though. Way better than the majority of guys. 
You focus back on your computer to type out the rest of your essay, but instead of typing more, you open a new tab. And instead of searching up resources to help with your writing, you type in Aki Hayakawa and look to find any social media he has. You find his Instagram and click on it, only to find out it’s private. You squint your eyes to look at the profile picture, but his face is covered by a camera. He seems to be into photography, at least that’s what you can tell from the picture.
He probably has an alternate account for his photos, but you’re really not in the mood to look at pictures of flowers or random insects/animals that you can find in your backyard. You go back to the previous page and also find a Twitter account. A smirk comes onto your lips as you think at what you can possibly find on that page. 
You click on his Twitter and immediately go to the media. You don’t really care too much to read about his thoughts; you don’t want to lose interest because of one unfunny tweet. You grin when you find his face in many pictures, as well as some other photographs that you don’t really care about too much. You come across one particular picture that makes you stop scrolling completely. 
It’s him and your roommate. Himeno’s arms wrapped around him as she smiles at the camera. Aki smiles as well, not as bright as Himeno though. You realize that Aki is the friend that Himeno was telling you about. You sigh as you click out of the picture. You remember her saying,
“He’s so hot, God, I’d do almost anything to be with him.”
You close the tab and go back to your essay, and when you're completely concentrated on the task in front of you, there’s a knock on your door. You puff out a breath before you stand up from your chair and walk to your door. You open the door to find your roommate with a bright smile on her face, a beer in her hand.
“My friend is coming over, come join us.” She suggests. You’re about to shake your head since you don’t have too much time to finish your essay but then it hits you, 
“Is this your same friend that tutors?” You ask, and she hums in response. She doesn’t know that you know him since you never asked for his name. Before she could tell you anything about him, you left. 
“I promise he’s fun! Well… After a couple of drinks. He acts mature and all that but he loosens up.” She tells you. You don’t understand why she’s insistent, but you end up nodding slowly.
“Alright, I’ll join you.” You answer.
“Yay! He’ll be here in a few minutes. Let me get changed.” She responds before walking away, and you decide to do the same. But you decide you’ll wear something different. Maybe something that shows a bit more skin, but not too much. You don’t want Himeno to notice and come to the conclusion you’re trying to impress her friend. You are, but you don’t want her to notice.
Right when you finish changing, there’s a knock on the front door. You walk out of the room and go to the front door, since Himeno is apparently still changing. You open the door, and just as you expected, there’s Aki.
“Oh, hey.” He greets you and says your name. He raises a brow before asking, “Is Himeno your roommate?”
“Yeah. She’s in her room, she’ll come out soon enough.” You inform him and he nods in response. You move out of the way so he can enter the apartment, and when he does, he walks to the couch. He takes a seat and makes himself comfortable. “Would you like a beer?”
“It’s fine. I can get it.” Aki answers and you go to the couch to sit down as well. You put some distance between the two of you so you don’t make him uncomfortable. This awkward silence fills up the room until Himeno walks back and joins you. 
She changed. She changed from a black tank top and sweatpants to a tight white tank top and shorts. You really aren’t surprised. She smiles at Aki, greeting him with a melodious, “Hey~”
You can tell she’s had one too many beers already. She seemed fine when she knocked on your door, but you obviously misjudged her. She takes a seat between the two of you, closer to Aki. Way closer. So much so that she’s almost invading his personal space. Aki isn’t sure what to do with his personal space being invaded, so he tries to scoot away, but he can’t since he’s at the end of the couch.
“Don’t you want to start watching that movie?” Aki asks, hoping that it’ll make Himeno stand up, and give him the chance to reclaim the room that was taken from him. When you hear the word “movie” one thing comes to mind, and it’s nothing pure. You’re not even sure if Himeno meant to invite you– Unless Aki was the one who suggested that they’d watch a “movie”.
“Why don’t you go grab a drink first?” Himeno suggests, the alcohol in her breath blowing into Aki’s face. Her arms wrap around him, and he’s trying his best to distance himself. This is why he tries not to come around at night. She has one too many drinks and gets touchy.
“I actually have to finish some assignments.” You say, standing up from the couch and beginning to walk to your room. You hear a groan from Himeno, but she doesn’t say anything to stop you. Now that Aki is here, she’s changed her mind about having you join them, so she isn’t exactly too mad about the fact that you’ll choose to lock yourself up in your room.
“Uh… Actually, I think I should go with her. I explained everything to her but she seemed to be needing some more help.” Aki tells Himeno, making her let go. He’s clearly uncomfortable, but he doesn’t have the courage to voice it. It makes the woman pout and cross her arms, and Aki says, “Go drink some water and look for a movie you want to watch. I’ll make it quick.”
He follows you to your room, uninvited, and neither of you know what to say when he closes the door behind you. You take a seat at your desk and decide to focus on your homework while he waits it out.
“Sorry…” He begins, and you hum in response. You don’t care all that much about it. He stands around awkwardly, not wanting to take a seat on your bed without asking. “I didn’t expect her to be already tipsy, and she tends to be touchy.”
“Oh yeah, I get that.” You respond. “You can sit down.”
“Okay…” He responds, but instead of actually taking a seat, he walks over to you to check what’s on your computer. He finds the paper that he revised on your desk as well, so he knows you’re still working on the paper he helped you with at the library. “Do you need me to revise that again?”
“I think it’s fine.” You answer. You don’t have all that much energy left to check the paper another time and make more revisions before turning it in. You end up turning off your laptop, deciding to take advantage of the moment. You might never have him in your room again, so you might as well talk to him. “When are you going back?”
“In a few minutes. When she’s had some water and time to be more level-headed.” He replies. He takes a seat on your bed and pulls out his phone. “If not, I’ll just leave.”
“I definitely don’t think that she’ll grab water like you suggested.” You tell him as you stand up and sit down on the bed. He still wants to wait a couple minutes before deciding to leave. “How did you two meet, anyway?”
“Hmm… I think it was around campus or something. She came up to me and we hit it off.” Aki recalls, although he can’t remember it all too well. “She’s three years older than me– I think.”
“Yeah… She’s taken a while to get her degree. But hopefully next year she’ll make it!” You share, and he nods in response. You aren’t sure what you two can talk about other than Himeno, until you look at his arms, “You have a lot of tattoos. That’s cool.”
“You think so?” He responds, and you nod in response. “Himeno was actually the one who pushed me to get a tattoo. It was a small one on my thigh but then I just couldn’t stop getting more and more.”
“I’ve been thinking of getting one myself, which one was the least painful for you?” You ask, and he takes a moment to think about it. He has so many… 
“Forearm is not so bad, also outer thigh is okay.” He informs you. “Neck was very painful, don’t do that. “Butt is okay. At least from what I’ve heard.”
“From what you heard?” You chuckle, and he ends up laughing as well. “Are you sure you don’t have a tattoo on your butt?”
“Maybe once upon a time I went out to drink with Himeno and we got too drunk…” He explains. You begin to wonder for how long exactly they’ve known each other. He shares a couple more things with you– How his ears piercings was also something Himeno forced him to do, that he’s lucky she didn’t force him to pierce his nose and also get a lip ring. They’ve known each other for around four years. Aki is graduating this term, and works part time as a barista. He tells you so much about himself. 
There’s a knock on the door, interrupting the conversation that you and Aki withhold. Himeno’s speech is slightly slurred as she says, “Aki, how much time– Do you have left? Is her paper not ready?”
“Oh she’s definitely opened a few more cans of beer.” You comment, and Aki hums, a bit disappointed. 
“I need a fucking cigarette.” He rolls his eyes. “What options do I have?”
“Sneak out the window– Which I don’t recommend since this is a second floor. Or wait till she passes out and leave. Unless you want to make up an emergency.” You tell him and he subconsciously begins to bounce his leg, looking around the place to decide what he wants to do.
“Can I smoke in here?” He asks and you shake your head. As much as you’d want to let him do anything he wants, the last thing you need is your bedroom smelling like cigarettes. You’ve forced Himeno to smoke outside, even when it’s pouring out
“Sorry, I don’t really want my bedroom to stink.”
“What? Do I stink?” He questions. He’s never associated his addiction with a horrible smell. Sure, smoking outside is the formality so not everyone is clouded with the smoke. Maybe it has a strong smell– Well, it definitely reeks but he fucking needs to smoke.
“You don’t stink, but if you pull out a cigarette in my room then you will. And I will too.” You explain and he still sighs. He lays his back on the bed and stares at the ceiling for a second. 
“Will you suck me off?” He asks out of nowhere, and you feel the heat going to your cheeks as he says that. “I need something that’ll distract me from smoking, and that’ll certainly do the trick.”
“You know, Himeno would be willing to give you a hand if you asked.” You say, your hand going to his belt. Does he need a cigarette so badly or does he just want a blowjob? You don’t care to ask as your lips go down to peck his lips. When you pull away, he says, 
“I don’t want Himeno.” He responds. “She’s a nice friend but that’s all she’ll be.”
“Hmm…? Didn’t we just meet? You’re already talking about us being more than friends?” You begin as you unbutton his pants and pull them down. Your hand goes into his boxers and begin to feel his length, which is certainly impressive. Although you aren’t too surprised. “Will this actually help you?”
“I suggested it for a reason.” He responds, and you pull down his boxers. You run your thumb over his tip, spreading the pre-cum on his cock. You lower your head, your tongue circling around his tip. You met a couple hours ago, and here you are, starting a blowjob. This wouldn’t be your first one night stand though. You’ve fucked guys that you’ve known for a shorter time.
You lower your head completely, wrapping your mouth completely around his cock. You take in as much as you can, and you can hear him softly moan as you bob your head. Your hands stroke the parts of his cock that can’t fit in your mouth, while your other hand cups his balls.
“Fuck– That’s good.” He can’t help but moan as he feels your mouth wrapped around his dick. Maybe he was thinking of a similar scene in the library while looking over your paper. And now he feels your tongue gliding on his shaft. 
You take his cock out of your mouth, your hand stroking his cock while your mouth goes down to suck on his balls. He shuts his eyes and bites his bottom lip as he feels your mouth. God, he has to remember that Himeno is right outside so he can’t let her hear what’s going on inside your room. That he isn’t in fact helping you with your assignment. 
Your tongue licks from the base of his cock back to the tip. Your mouth wraps around his cock again, doing the same thing as before. While it feels great for Aki, he still says, “Baby, can you take it all in your mouth? It’ll be so good”
The pet name “baby” makes your panties wet. All the heat immediately goes to your cunt, but you focus on Aki and making him come. Using your mouth for his pleasure. 
You feel his hand on the back of your head, and he begins to push your head down on his cock. You begin to gag on his cock, and the sound is better than any melody for him. And the best part of all is that it feels so good for him. Even better than before. He could come at any moment.
Too engrossed in what you’re doing, any noise from outside is canceled out by Aki’s moans and your gagging. Until the door strikes open, and a drunk Himeno walks into the room, looking for Aki. You raise your head, taking his cock out of your mouth. You’re wide-eyed while the man can’t help but be annoyed by the fact that he was so close to finishing, and he was interrupted.
Himeno is trying to process the scene in front of her, asking, “What’s going on here?”
“A- Aki needed a cigarette.” You stutter.
“She won’t remember any of this in the morning. There’s no need for an explanation.” Aki assures you. He pulls his boxers back up and begins to fix himself. “I have to go. I’m gonna smoke a cigarette.”
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Just as Aki said, Himeno remembered nothing the next morning. Yet, you decided that you’ll keep your distance because Himeno clearly likes him, and getting with him is sort of a betrayal to her. It’s easy to avoid him, mainly because you’ve never bumped into him before. You avoid the library, and he doesn’t come over to hang out with Himeno often.
Nearly a month after everything, you find yourself back in the library, ready to check another paper. The paper Aki checked got a near perfect score, and while you’re trying to avoid him, you value your grades more than anything. Your eyes meet when you step into the place.
You’ll look for someone else because you doubt either of you will feel too comfortable around each other, especially after a month of not talking. Or maybe that’s just you because Aki begins to walk towards you.
“Hey.” He says when he’s in front of you. You smile at him, avoiding eye contact. “Do you need help on another paper?”
“Uh… Yeah.” You nod, looking around to find another person that’s not Aki, to check the paper you need help with.
“I can check it for you.” He states, noticing that you’re looking for someone else. He left someone on their own to come up to you. He hopes at the very least you’ll take his help so he doesn’t look like a jerk.
“Sure… But aren’t you busy?” You question and he shakes his head. You noticed he was with someone else, but he decided to walk up to you. “I don’t want to–”
“It’s fine, they were just leaving.” He responds, and you end up sighing. He furrows his brows at your reaction and just when he’s about to ask what’s wrong, you end up saying,
“You know Himeno likes you, so I think it’s best if we–” You begin but he cuts you off.
“I’m helping you with your essay, I’m sure Himeno won’t get mad with that.” Aki answers, and you end up sighing again. He’s not wrong, but the reason you don't want his help is because you aren’t sure if you’ll behave around each other. 
You end up going with him to take a seat. You pull out the paper and hand it to him so he can look it over. And he takes it as he takes a seat beside you. Unlike the first time, you don’t gawk at him. You stare elsewhere, somewhere that he isn’t in your vision.
You feel him pat your thigh, and the heat goes to your cheeks immediately. “Do you have a pen?”
“Oh, yeah. Sorry.” You respond, reaching into your bag to pull out a pen. You give it to him, and once again stare off into space, until his hand goes back to your thigh. But this time he isn’t patting to ask you for something. He takes advantage of the fact that you’re wearing a skirt. 
He caresses your thigh, all while his focus is on the paper in front of him. You don’t understand how he suddenly got so comfortable with you to do this, but at the same time you really don’t care that much. Except when his hand goes to your clothed cunt and he rubs lazy circles on your panties. No one will notice or know, yet you’re still freaking out. But you won’t push his hand away either.
“Same mistakes as the first time.” He comments, pushing your panties to the side. Two fingers run through your folds as he circles and underlines what needs to be fixed. He mutters, “You’re so wet, and I haven’t done anything.”
“Huh?” You question, your face burning up, the same heat that’s in between your legs. Yet one is of embarrassment and the other of arousal. 
“I said, last time clearly didn’t do anything. You made very similar mistakes.” He begins to circle your clit. You didn’t really expect a stunt like this from him of all people. But then again, you don’t know him well. You’ve stalked his social media after giving him a blowjob, but that’s about it. 
You wait for him to push two fingers in, but at the same time you’re not desperate for it because his fingers’ speed against your clit is just right. He moves his fingers perfectly. You bite your bottom lip, preventing a whimper from leaving your lips.
“Does it feel good, gorgeous?” He asks, glancing at you before his eyes go back to the paper in front of him. “Wouldn’t it feel good if I slipped a finger in? You’d have to ask me in a pretty little voice.”
“Please.” You whisper. You’re scared of being too loud and being heard, although half the library is empty.
“Can you be a tad bit louder? I can’t make out what you’re saying.” He says, and you end up shaking your head. The library is so quiet that you could hear a pin drop, and you’re scared that if you raise your voice just a bit more, that people will turn to see. The place isn’t too crowded. Just a couple of people cramming in for exams.
His fingers press against your entrance, but he doesn’t slip a finger in. He fixes your panties and stands up, “I need a cig. Check over what I wrote. I’ll be back in a second.”
You watch as he walks away, and you stuff your paper back in your bag. You stand up and begin to walk to the shelves. You begin to look for a book that you’ve been researching for a term paper. Instead of asking the librarian for help, you go to the very back of the place, looking for the book. 
You waste around ten minutes, before you spot it. Your arm goes out to grab it, but before your hand gets to it, someone else grabs it. You notice the tattoos on his hand and immediately figure out who it is. You turn around to look at him, and he’s so close that you’re pushed against the shelves.
“I thought I told you to make revisions and here you are…” He sounds a bit annoyed as he says this. His lips go down and he pecks your lips before he kneels down in front of you. He lifts up your skirt, and you press your thighs together.
“Right here?” You ask, tilting to the side for a moment to see if you find anybody. When you don’t, you stop squeezing your thighs. He pushes your panties to the side, once again, and forces you to spread your legs.
“You should really be checking your paper…” He tells you before his tongue licks up your cunt. He really couldn’t care less about your paper. He can say he was upset when he stepped back into the library and you weren’t there, waiting for him. He was going to tease you a bit more. But now he’s glad that you decided to come here because you taste great on his tongue.
He spits on your cunt before his lips attach around your clit. You throw your head back, making a couple of books fall over. The sound would sure catch a couple of people’s attention, but they’re all too focused on their own thing to care. You put a hand over your mouth to muffle any sounds from escaping your lips. 
Books knocking over aren't alarming, the sound of moaning sure is.
He detaches himself from your clit and licks down your folds to the entrance of your cunt. He teases it before he inserts his tongue inside of you, which makes your eyes roll to the back of your head. He moves it in and out of your cunt while his fingers begin to play with your clit.
“Fuck, that’s so good.” You whisper, your hips bucking. He’s looking up at you, watching your face as you try to contain your pleasure. He really wishes he could hear it, but he sure picked the wrong place to do this. Either way you wouldn’t make a sound in your apartment either because of your roommate.
You shut your eyes, feeling your climax get closer and closer. He takes his tongue out of your cunt and begins to flick your clit. The sweetest “Aki” leaves your lips while your thighs begin to squeeze around him. He swears this is heaven, and you’re the sweetest angel.
You keep your thighs squeezed around him while your orgasm takes over you. You hear Aki humming, loving the way you taste around him. A moan escapes your lips, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you come.
Aki continues flicking your clit for a couple more seconds, watching the beautiful face that you make as you orgasm. When a sigh escapes your lips when you come down from your high, he kisses your clit and gets off the ground. He grabs the back of your head and pulls your face in for a kiss. His tongue enters your mouth, pressing against your own. His tongue glides over yours while your hands go to the bulge that’s in his pants.
When he pulls away, a string of saliva connects your lips. You stare into his lust-filled eyes, and you watch him bite down his bottom lip as you feel the bulge in his pants. His thumb pushes down your bottom lip before he orders, “Open your mouth.”
You do as he says and he spits in your mouth. You swallow as your hands unbutton his pants. Your hands go inside his boxers and you begin to stroke his length. He says, “You want me to fuck you here, baby?”
“Hmm…” You hum in response. You pull down his pants, “You already ate me out, we might as well go all the way.”
“You’re right. I’ve been daydreaming about your cunt wrapped around my dick.” He says, stroking his cock a couple of times before he runs the tip through your folds, getting his cock wet with your slick. “And the craziest thing is that this is the third time we meet.”
“It’s the effect I have on people.” You chuckle, before he slowly pushes his cock inside of you. You whimper, feeling as his thick cock stretches you out. You both shut your eyes, taking everything in. He’s even bigger when he’s inside of you, at least that’s how he feels.
“Your pussy feels so good.” He whispers. Your cunt feels just like he imagined– No, even better. So nice and tight. The night he needed a cigarette, he shouldn’t have asked for a blowjob, instead he should’ve straight up asked you to fuck him. He actually would’ve finished.
When he bottoms out, he waits a moment, letting you adjust to his size. He begins to move slowly, looking at your face as you try your best to contain yourself. His bottom lip is between his teeth as he fucks you. One hand goes to the shelf behind you, causing a couple more books to tumble over.
You’re beginning to moan, and as much as he loves the sound, he can’t risk getting caught. One hand covers your mouth while his lips go to your ear, “You want us to get caught, naughty girl? You want everyone to come see you get caught?”
God, he just feels so good inside of you, it’s hard for you to keep it all in. His cock hits all the right spots. You could come alone with the way he moves in and out of you. Yet your hand still moves down to your clit to play with it.
Aki understands the way you feel because he’s trying his best to contain himself as well– In more ways than one, because he could come at any moment. He stops covering your mouth and his lips land on yours again. 
He feels your cunt clench around him, and he moans in your mouth. When he pulls away, his lips go to your ears again, “Love your tight little pussy. I could die in it, and I’d die a happy man.”
His cock picks up speed with every thrust. His hand is back on your mouth, muffling the sounds that get louder and louder with every thrust. You reach your climax, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as your legs spasm.
“So fucking good. I need to come inside your pussy.” He mutters. After a few more thrusts, you feel as his warm cum fills up your cunt. He keeps his cock inside you for a minute. He takes it out and fixes your panties. He pecks your lips one more time, as he fixes himself up. 
“Go fix your paper, and if I like it enough, I’ll give you another reward.”
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simpjaes · 3 months
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how about jealousbf!heeseung who takes you to the empty soundproof vocal rooms and stuffs you full with no mercy after you looked at jay a little too much while they were doing their dance practice
tags: front man heeseung, wannabe groupie reader, he's not her bf !! non idol au, they're just in a band !!
wc: 1k
looking at jay was never an issue until heeseung was looking at you.
who would blame you though? it's not your fault Sunghoon always brought you to band practices. it's not your fault that Heeseung never really paid attention to you before they managed to finesse their way onto a label.
then again, it's not like you knew that Heeseung was always looking. You always seemed to share a gaze between him and everyone else too, so it wasn't really a competitive thing until he noticed you consistently looking at jay more and more.
Hah, always the fucking guitar players too. What do they have that he doesn't? Aside from skilled fingers?
Arguably, Heeseung's fingers are quite skilled too. Just because he's the front man doesn't mean he can't fuck like a guitarist.
So, well, it all really started when you didn't show up. It's rare that you don't, honestly, and all the members seem to miss you when you're not there but man.
Jay sure is a fucking asshole.
"I think she wants me." He joked that one day, nudging Sunghoon and watching them both nod in confirmation that yeah, it's probably true.
"I could take her into one of the soundproof rooms, none of you would even know." he said on that same day, giving Heeseung the idea to do it first.
After all, it's not like he hasn't seen you disappear into sticky bathrooms or dingy band van's at several small town shows with other bands and their members. Why would he be any different? Why would Jay be any different?
Exactly. You're a wannabe groupie and Heeseung is far too willing to feed into your fantasy of fucking a rock star now rather than later.
Jay likes the chase. Heeseung likes the hunt.
And so, that next "practice?" Of course you showed up. Bright eyes, slutty outfit, doe eyes blinking in awe at a bunch of guys who haven't even debuted past a burned CD with shit sound quality? Heeseung approaches you.
Being the front man and all, it's not hard to get you alone as the members take their time doing their own work on the new song. Heeseung's vocals were all finished, and Jay was too wrapped up in his guitar solo recording to notice you eye fucking him again.
"Welcome back, we missed you last time." Heeseung starts in a sweet voice, opening his arms out for a hug.
You kind of quirk your brow at him because, well, you've known the dude for like two years by this point but never has he done more than an awkward side hug while covered in sweat and the scent of musk and alcohol after a show or a hard practice session.
"Oh?" You question, surprised by the grip he holds on you.
"Wanna come with me somewhere?" He asks again, even though the question felt more like a demand in the way he immediately starts dragging you away from the recording studio and into the hallway.
You don't really say much, being more of a go-with-the-flow person than anything. You just shrug, following him into what you obviously know is one of the sound proof rooms they've used previously to practice the noise music.
Working out the kinks of a song doesn't always sound so good, yknow? Nobody really wants to hear that shit til it's ready either.
And it's not like you're stupid or anything. You know what this is, when he steps inside and closes the door behind you. In fact, you're entirely down for it despite not really knowing why the band's front man suddenly wants to be alone with you.
"Hah," Heeseung smirks, watching you already start to slip your shirt off. "I knew it."
You just kind of look at him.
"Well, what else would I expect after being dragged in here?" You ask, pausing your movements and allowing your shirt to fall back into place against your waist.
"I don't know?" He laughs back, rolling his eyes at you briefly before boxing you up against the wall. "Jay?"
You smirk.
"Honestly? Yeah. We've been eye fucking each other for ages." You laugh, brushing Jay off entirely. "Didn't expect you to be the one to come after me."
"Well, if you would have stopped staring at his fingers for thirty seconds maybe you would have noticed it."
"What can I say? He moves fast."
"And you think I would? You've seen what I can do with my tongue, right?"
You pause, noting all those instances during shows where he definitely treated his tongue like some sort of mating ritual. Licking up his microphone, flicking it between his fingers, even going as far as flattening it at multiple city girls that seemed to want a bad boy for the night.
"Don't think I have, actually." You roll your eyes playfully, blinking at him innocently. "Care to elaborate?"
Man, he elaborated.
Without another word, actually. Which was a bit of a shock to you, considering he likes to rasp those vocals all night through song and shrieks. Ah, the sounds are so much different vibrating when his tongue is buried into you, moving faster than you'd have expected.
What's worse? You never really noticed how pretty his vocals could sound until he was muttering out words of degradation towards you. He went in raw, explaining that it's his right. That he should be the first to feel your pussy squeeze him dry. Whispers questions of how many other men have been in you like this. Asking if you've always been this breathless for them. Asking why you're not screaming loud enough for Jay to hear, even through the soundproof room.
In reality, your throat is dry from allowing yourself to be loud for him. Rasping and panting confirmations of his filthy words, only to feel him plunge into you harder, harder, harder. Like a mantra of a song he only wishes he could write.
The proof of having you before Jay could, the proof of fucking you better than anyone else could.
By the end of it all, to Heeseung? Doesn't really matter if every other member of his band has a turn with you know. He's only gonna ask what his dick tastes like. He's only gonna ask if they fucked you cross eyed too. Because he knows the answer will be no.
Why?
Because you keep coming back for more. Up until Jay takes note, mentioning a month later to Sunghoon, right there in front of everyone,
"What's gotten into her? She practically ignores me."
And of course Heeseung smirked, giving him the answer he probably didn't want to hear.
"Me."
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slasherscream · 3 months
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my girl can wear whatever she wants tiers please for crazy ass boys gang!!!
CRAZY ASS BOYS GANG + MY GIRL CAN WEAR WHATEVER SHE WANTS TIERS
❥ my girl can wear whatever she want cause I can fight ❥
Billy Loomis - When you look particularly good his arm might as well be glued to your waist. He's both possessive and protective. He hates the way everyone's eyes devour you, but can't help how prideful it makes him either. Yeah, you want her. Of course you want her. Everyone does. But only I have her. God help the idiot that's stupid enough to open their mouth and not just look.
Jordan Li - They love watching you put your outfits together. They make suggestions from your bed, glancing up at you every few minutes. They can't help it. Their eyes are drawn to you permanently. No matter how crowded the room they can find you in a second. Whenever there's a party Jordan loves watching everyone try to sneak quick glances at you. They jump like rabbits when they wind up meeting Jordan's eyes and watch that smile that Jordan only wears around you fall back into the usual scowl. No one wants to be caught staring at Jordan's girl.
Arvin Russell - It's not possible for you to feel fear in public when you're with Arvin. You could be wearing straight lingerie in the most dangerous city in the world at 2 am and be safe. He's not just ready to protect you but hungry for it. Every time he proves he'll fight till his knuckles are bloody and bruised over you he watches you walk a little more confidently. Shine a little brighter. Knowing that he's there to protect you has only made you more yourself every day. And Arvin? He's obsessed with the transformation that the safety net of his fierce protection has ignited within you.
Jason Dean/JD - You wish he'd only fight people over what you're wearing. Unfortunately, this is not the case. JD pulls out a gun. Not every time, granted. Just a large majority of the time. In his defense, how is he supposed to act when someone has the audacity to cat call you? Do you expect him to just watch and not care as you experience that brief shiver of fear that runs up your spine when a man whistles at you before following it up with even more salacious words? If you feel fear, he'll make them feel fear. Simple.
Sparrow!Ben Hargreeves - If someone is stupid enough to not recognize him before they say anything to you about what you're wearing they will quickly recognize the tentacle wrapped around their throat. "Apologize." He hisses through gritted teeth, increasing the pressure, knowing just how much strength he can use before it would break their neck. How he ever expects anyone to apologize to you with a giant tentacle wrapped around their wind pipe you don't know. This is the second time this month. You're running out of night clubs you're not banned from.
David Mccall - You walk out of the house with the confidence that only someone who's done 12 tours over seas should have. But no, you just have a boyfriend who is incredibly scary. You've watched him almost break a man's hand for brushing it against yours at a crowded bar while he reached for his drink. You don't even think before you throw on an outfit anymore.
❥ my girl can wear whatever she want because she a hoe and I knew that before we started dating ❥
Josh Washington - Could he fuck someone up if needed? Yes, but he feels no need to. As long as you're not in danger or being disrespected Josh loves the way you express yourself through your look. You're hot and beautiful, of course you wear stuff that's short or tight, or both. If he looked like you he'd do the same thing. People don't usually say anything to you anyways, since he's always pressed to you like a second skin. He's not a jealous guy, but he is a chronic clinger.
Stu Macher - Is probably the person wolf whistling you in the first place. Points at you from across the room when you're talking to other people and says, "That's my girl right there. She's smoking, right?" He will always be smug he pulled you and NEVER shut up about it. The more wild you dress the more smug he gets. People can look all they want. But you only want him. What's there not to brag about?
Kevin Khatchadourian - Kevin above anyone else would thoroughly understand your psyche before dating you. He's involved with you because, somehow, you intrigued him against all odds. He already expected and predicted with near perfect accuracy every step of the relationship. Skimpy outfits are not throwing him. Can he fight? Yes. But, frankly, if someone pisses him off by hitting on you swinging on them is not gonna satisfy him. He's more of a "put their fingerprints at a crime scene so their life is ruined" type of get back. If he decides not to kill them.
Sebastian Valmont - Sebastian is the one buying you more hoe clothes. He loves your style and is not insecure. If either of you wanted someone else, you could go get them. But you two were practically made for each other. He wants to show you off. Is never going to be the type to try and dull your shine. He wants to walk into a room with you and have jaws drop from the deadly combination of the way you look together. He thrives off of seeing how much people want you. Knowing how futile it is. How hopeless. He pulls you tight into his side and grins like the devil himself (also, and this knowledge is of utmost importance, he cannot fight for shit.)
❥ my girl can wear whatever she want cus I’m scared of her ❥
Nathan Prescott - Is possessive, jealous and insecure enough to absolutely want you to change what you're wearing. With anyone else he'd even be bold enough to tell them to change. You are not anyone else, though. You are you. Considering every other behavior you tolerate from Nathan on a monthly, weekly, daily, and hourly basis you would snap on him like a twig if he tried to bring one more red flag on board. He knows this. You know this. When you slide on your low rise jeans and the tiniest crop top known to man, you make eye contact with one another in the mirror. He looks away first. You go back to peacefully fixing up your hair. Upside, no one is crazy enough to actually hit on you when you're at parties held on campus together. Which means Nathan won't have the cops called on him. Hooray!
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cowboydisaster · 11 months
Note
Hey could you write a little fic about Arthur hearing fem reader crying and comforting her? Really pile up the fluff if you decide to write please 🩷🩷 love your stuff so much xxx
A Shoulder to Cry on
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pairing: Arthur Morgan x fem!reader
word count: 1000
a/n: Thank you for this sweet prompt, nonny! I was looking to write some fluff and this was perfect.
beta read by @margowritesthings
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You feel foolish for even crying, but you can't bring yourself to stop the glistening tears from streaming down your face. You’re petrified, miles away from your former camp, stuck up in the Grizzlies. The Pinkertons are on your tail like a cat on a mouse, and you know it’s only a matter of time before they inevitably catch you. Your time is running out. You’ve had a good run with the van der Linde gang, but it’s time is nigh on done. It's a daunting realization, especially after losing so many folks back in Blackwater. 
Because of your position in the gang, you’ve been given your own bedroom in the same cabin as Arthur, Dutch and Hosea. It's a cold room, but better than what most of the gang have. The wind whistles outside as thick snowflakes land on the roof, causing ice cold water to drip repetitively from the ceiling above. The wind and the leak intertwine with your cries, forming a sad, sad song. 
You sit on the bed with your knees hugged to your chest, sobbing into them with no sign of stopping. You try to keep quiet as your breathing comes in shudders, and your shoulders shake violently. There is an ache in your ribs from the sobs erupting from your chest, but it pales in comparison to the ache in your heart. You hiccup, catching your breath, and unknowingly alerting Arthur who is walking by to catch some shut eye. 
With his eyebrows pulled together in worry, he gently nudges your door open. You don’t even look up, and he stands in the doorway for a moment, glancing over your curled up, crumbling form. Of course, he knows what's wrong, and his heart shatters at the sight of you looking so broken. His heart– it’s been longing for your own for so long, and seeing you like this breaks him. 
“Oh, darlin…” He murmurs, stepping forward in only a few strides. You hear his boots clicking against the floor before the bed dips under his weight, and then his big, warm arms are around you. 
“I'm so sorry.” He whispers.
There’s something about his arms around you. They are sturdy and unmoving, and yet piece by piece, they begin to build your broken heart back together. There’s so much safety and comfort in his arms, you’re sure that he could protect you even from the storms raging in the Grizzlies with his hugs. You wrap your arms under his, hands on his back as you sniffle and cry into his shirt. 
“Do you wanna talk about it?” Arthur asks quietly, swaying you lightly in his arms as he shields you from your pain and the cold. Arthur doesn’t push you. He knows exactly how you feel, and opening up about these things is far from easy in his own experience. The gang– it’s coming to an end, and you both know it. Now you just have to find a way to exit peacefully, hopefully taking those that you love with you. 
"Shh, shh. You're okay." He coos, tucking your head under his chin.
Arthur is radiating with warmth, and you feel the frostbite leaving your nose as you nuzzle into his chest. His thumb reaches up to wipe away a fresh tear as he frowns lightly at the sight of you so upset. Your skin is soft against Arthur’s calloused hand, and your eyes slip closed as you savor the feeling of his touch.
“I’m scared, Arthur.” You admit, lip trembling as silent tears slide down your frozen cheeks. 
“I know you are, I know, but I will get you out of this mess. I promise you.” Arthur swears, resting back against the headboard as his mind runs rampant. He can’t let you die for this gang, and he’ll get you out safely if it's the last thing he does. 
“You just rest now, alright? You don’t gotta worry no more. I gotcha now.” Arthur murmurs, laying down with you nuzzled into his side. You cuddle against him as tightly as you can manage, placing your head on his chest as you nod your head. For the first time since Blackwater, the trails of tears from your reddened eyes cease.
Arthur’s hand runs soothingly up and down your back as he makes sure you’re comfortable and taking deep breaths. He wishes he could take this pain away from you, but he knows he can't. All he can do is hold you. 
Your eyes slip shut as you nuzzle against his blue wool coat, your cries dying down to soft sniffles. 
"Feelin' any better?" Arthur asks, watching as your breathing settles back to normal. Your cheeks are red from the cold, and your lashes stick together from sticky tears. Arthur pulls the blankets up over the two of you, not wanting you to catch a cold. 
"I am now that you’re here." You whisper, feeling a heavy tiredness fall over you. Arthur is so comfortable, and you feel safe enough to fall asleep in his arms. Arthur can tell you're drifting off, and he wraps his arms around you tighter for it. 
"It's okay, get some sleep. I'll still be here when you wake up." Arthur murmurs. Seeking more of his comfort, and taking another step towards telling him how you feel, you unwrap one of his arms from your body. Arthur's eyebrows pull together, and at first he's worried that he's crossed a line until you intertwine your fingers with his own and hold your joined hands against his chest. 
Arthur smiles down at your hands, watching your face relax as you finally drift to sleep. He'll hold you the rest of the night, making sure you're okay. 
"I'll get you outta this mess." He reiterates, "If it's the last thing I do, I won't let you die for these fools." 
He hopes that you'll go with him, run away to some place far. Arthur's never been one to daydream of pleasantries, but you make him want a home, a family. He'd leave the gang for you, he'd buy a home and work an honest job just so he could come home to you. He'd make you proud. 
But for now, all he can do is hold you, comfort you from the storm outside alongside the one raging in your mind. Now the only sounds in the room are the leaking roof and your light snores as you take comfort in the first safety you've felt in days. Arthur will always be that comfort for you. 
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taglist: @margofiore @mrsarthurmorgan7 @woman-with-no-name @tillith @luvliewriting @pine4pple-b0i @photo1030 @dudsparrow @holyratrimony
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