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#if i got bored with something i wouldn't finish it
vonaegiremblem · 3 days
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I finished my neutral run of Undertale Yellow yesterday, and I'm still thinking about how cool it was. The graphics in the final boss fight were so impressive and the different art styles were executed incredibly. The reveal that Clover would stay with Toriel if Flowey didn't intervene I think adds so much to the hints of their past we get throughout the game. I think it's not unreasonable to interpret this as Clover desiring a better home life so much that they would be willing to sacrifice their mission for it. It's a neat character detail.
I think the absolute coolest part of it all, though, is the pre-fight because it shows how well the dev team understood what made Undertale special. Undertale played on the expectations of your average gamer, and Undertale Yellow in turn plays on your expectations as someone who liked Undertale enough to seek out a fan game for it. I think it's safe to say that most people probably got the pacifist ending on their first run since they weren't forced into a neutral run like in Undertale. The pacifist ending basically shows the best and presumably canon ending for Undertale Yellow. After all, the only person who has to die is Clover. This naturally raises the question of what happens on a neutral run. It must be meaningfully different, or else it wouldn't be optional. Doing a low LV neutral run initially presents what would probably have been a fairly decent outcome for most characters if Flowey didn't step in. (Also it raises a really fascinating ethical question on whether you would be willing to sacrifice one random scrub monster or robot for a decent ending where Clover gets to live.) Without Flowey's intervention at the end, Dalv would stop isolating and would connect with the inhabitants of the Ruins, Ceroba would find solace in being with the Feisty Five, Starlo would return to his old self and makes good with his posse, Axis would get to remain active and without his anger issues, and Martlet and Clover would get to have a pleasant existence together. Now, all of this is, admittedly, pretty hypothetical, but it's not unreasonable to assume that this is how things would go. For those that wanted an ending where Clover lives, the neutral route seems to provide that as a possibility. And then it rips that possibility away. It plays with and takes advantage of that desire I think most people have to see all of the main cast if not happy, then at least content. Even though we got the "best" ending and know Clover has to die, we still want that wish fulfillment of seeing everyone together after the credits roll, and I think the devs were fully aware of that. It is genuinely so impressive that the devs managed to make such the neutral run into something so fascinating when it could have easily been a boring, stepping stone on the way to the other endings
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itsclydebitches · 9 months
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Just finished Good Omens 2 and I'm honestly boggling at the Aziraphale hate because yes, his decision led to the angsty cliffhanger, but it makes SO much sense for his character. Not just in a "Religious brainwashing and sunk-cost fallacy" kinda way but also a "Aziraphale has no reason to believe this isn't the perfect solution" way. That scene among the nebula is crucial because it establishes that Crowley loved being an angel—reveled in his ability to create and allow his creations to grow kinda like plants—and the only problem was that someone else was calling the shots, someone who wouldn't listen to his criticism. Aziraphale has also spent 6,000+ years watching Crowley do good, all the while forced to deny the fact that he's "nice" lest embracing his original nature get him into trouble with hell. Now, Metatron comes along with an offer that fixes everything in one fell swoop. Crowley can be an angel again, be nice without censure, his ideas and criticisms will hold weight because he'll be answering to Aziraphale, and they'll be together.
It strikes me that Aziraphale isn't there when Crowley sees Gabriel's trial, ergo he likewise doesn't see the (non)acknowledgement that there's an institutional problem up in Heaven. There just happen to have been two archangels who called it quits. Same when Gabriel blurts that phrase out to Crowley. Aziraphale has always been more blind to the ways in which Heaven is "toxic" (for very understandable reasons) and this season he's continually sheltered from new evidence of its structural problems. The plot just preaches to the choir: Crowley. He likewise wouldn't see the conflict Gabriel and Beelzebub have caused as evidence of an underlying problem because that's a problem he and Crowley will no longer share. Why would they be worried about Heaven still being unable to accept partnerships between angels and demons when Crowley will no longer be a demon? And that's something he presumably wants based on Aziraphale's memories of him and the ongoing admission that he's lonely.
The way I see it, they got what they thought they wanted at the start of Season 2. Heaven and Hell are keeping an eye on them, but functionally they're left alone. Crowley can spend all the time he wants with Aziraphale and nothing comes of that except that they're both continually named traitors and the higher-ups grumble about it. If Gabriel had never shown up, things should have been perfect based on Crowley's "Let's just run away and have each other's company" standards. Better, even, considering that they get to be together on their beloved Earth, rather than being bored out in Alpha Centauri without any sushi, plants, books, or Bentleys. And yet... Crowley doesn't strike me as particularly happy. Because, you know, based on that kiss he wants to be with Aziraphale, not just literally be with him, but the point of this post is that his "Let's run away and be an 'us'" falls totally flat when he doesn't explain that specific desire to Aziraphale; the desire to change what an 'us' means. From Aziraphale's perspective they're already an 'us.' That was the entire point of "our side" in Season 1 and now they can continue to be 'us' up in Heaven. Plus, Aziraphale likely sees this as a sacrifice on his part. He will give up his bookshop, his Earthly indulgences, take on the responsibilities of leadership (which I don't think he actually wants for a variety of reasons), and spend the rest of eternity in a place where he's felt so small because he thinks that's what Crowley wants. Crowley was happy as an angel. Crowley wanted them to be together without risk of permanent discorporation. They were able to achieve that after not-Armageddon and he still wasn't happy... so surely those two things together will do the trick. Crowley never actually articulates how he wants their relationship to change and the kiss comes much too late, when he's already rejected what Aziraphale must see as a perfect, selfless solution he's secured for them. Even if Crowley wasn't always moving too fast for him, an overture of romance isn't going to go well after that.
Is this crushing and angsty and devastating as a hiatus? Damn straight, my heart it breaking. But it's a good setup. More importantly, it makes perfect sense for their characters, particularly when they're still talking past one another. Aziraphale is someone who has always moved more slowly as a matter of course, as an angel he has remained immersed in the rhetoric of Heaven, his main avenue of breaking free of that (Crowley) has a huge communication problem (to say nothing of his own denial. He only made headway with the help of Nina and Maggie, seconds before Aziraphale shows up), and Metatron (in a no doubt incredibly manipulative manner) has just offered Aziraphale a job that presumably makes him happy AND Crowley happy AND allows him to maintain the moral this-is-how-the-universe-works perspective he's had since he was literally created. Of course he's going to say yes to all that!! And sure, there are problems in Heaven, Aziraphale isn't completely blind, but he can fix them now that he's in charge. How? Well... he'll figure that out later! Kinda like how he's been making plans on the fly this entire season. That seems logical from his perspective, right? It's not like he's gotten a crash-course in the concept of the master's tools never being able to dismantle the master's house...
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yourmidnightlover · 1 year
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truth or dare... don't lie
pairing: xavier thorpe x fem!reader
summary: during a game of truth or dare, a secret about reader is revealed that xavier offers to help her out with.
warnings: SMUT LMAO, unprotected PIV, fingering, oral (F receiving), virgin!reader, kinda soft sex tbh, reader loses her v-card bc i'm projecting, kent, bianca, and yoko are kinda mean in this i'm not gonna lie, theres a bit of angst at first but then it gets really smutty and comforting
a/n: THIS IS NOT EDITED! i AM working on a part two to my series, but i have finals this week and can't focus enough to develop the plot how i planned so you're getting this instead to tide you over... wooo! enjoy horn-dogs :)
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"it's your turn, y/n!" bianca started giggling as she took another sip of whatever alcoholic mixture she decided to deliver this time.
somehow you, enid, wednesday, ajax, xavier, bianca, kent, and yoko were playing a skewed version of truth or dare in xaviers single room. basically, it was the same premise of you choose a truth or a dare, but if you didn't complete the task or answer the truth then you had to strip. so... strip truth or dare.
it's not like anyone really cared, it was a week before winter break, and everyone had already finished their exams for the semester. luckily you were even able to have thing sneak into the teachers' lounge and bag some extra goodies, which was mostly only alcohol and little debbie snacks.
"what'll it be, y/l/n?" bianca continued to ask you. "truth or dare... or strip?"
you see, there was one MORE issue at hand...
you were down to your dress.
having already taken off your jacket, socks, and even your necklace, you were desperate to remain in the game with your integrity intact, although you were sure most of them wouldn't remember a thing because they had drank so much. except for wednesday, something about making sure enid got back to the dorm safely... blah blah blah.
well, and xavier, but you weren't sure why he wasn't drinking much on his end. maybe he was simply uncomfortable with it, or wanted to be the designated walk-er, helping everyone to their respective dorms. that's part of why you like him so much. he's so sweet and thoughtful, even when people choose to inebriate themselves beyond belief with alcohol. it wouldn't happen, and you know that. but a little schoolgirl crush never hurt anyone, right?
regardless, you needed something easy, so you remained covered and not embarrassed, "truth."
"boring!" enid rang out, hands cupping around her mouth to symbolize a megaphone.
"she is down to just her dress and whatever is underneath," wednesday pointed out with a nod. you turned to see xavier simply looking down at his phone, more than uninterested in the game.
"fine," you sighed. "i choose dare," you said smugly, noticing xaviers eyebrows raise as he made eye contact with you before you abruptly looked the other direction.
"there we go!" bianca clapped as the others cheered with her. "that's what i'm talking about y/n," she put her finger to her chin as if she were in deep thought with a quiet 'hmmm,' "i dare you to sit in xavier's lap for the rest of the game!"
"really?" your surprise was practically impossible to hide. "i don't think he'd be very comfortable with that, b."
"i'm cool with it if you are, y/n/n," he gave you a smile, one that you didn't recognize. it wasn't his 'i'm proud of you smile' or his 'you fucked up again' smile, no. this was a new one. this one seemed darker. mysterious. enticing.
you liked it.
"i-i'm cool with it," and with that, you got up and walked in his direction.
he had been sitting at his desk the whole time, in his comfy little chair. he pat his lap three times before you rolled your eyes at him and sat down on his lap, facing the same way as him. you tried not to put much weight on him, so you opted to sit on the very edge of his knees and let your tiptoes hold most of your weight.
"okay that can't be comfortable," xavier pointed out. "here," he carefully lifted you just enough to maneuver you over his lap, now sideways with your back against one armrest and your feet dangling over the other. "better?"
"mhmm, thanks," you smiled as you clasped your hands in your lap, one of xavier's arms still wrapped around your waist comfortably. it felt nice, like it belonged there.
from there on the game got a bit more... risqué. now there were kisses dared on cheeks, first time stories being drawn out, and so much more.
"xavier," ajax pointed at him, slurring his words with a big grin decorating his face. "truth or dare!"
"hmm..." he acted deep in thought. "dare."
"i dare you..." he clearly hadn't thought that far in advance, which is when enid leaned over and whispered something you couldn't make out to him. "oh that's good!," ajax whisper yelled, not being able to properly sense his own volume. "i dare you, xavier, to kiss y/n on the neck until your next turn!"
you turned to face him, your lips pressed into a thin line, praying that he couldn't see the rosy red blush that was surely adorning your cheeks by now.
"are you okay with that?" he asked, whispering in your ear so the others couldn't hear. once he got your quiet, but detectable 'mhmm,' he accepted the dare. "alright," with that, he got to work.
he pressed a feather-light kiss to your neck at first, and you thought you would be fine if this is what he would be doing the entire time. that was, until he began to press slightly open-mouthed kisses to your neck, occasionally gently nipping the area before soothing over it with his tongue.
there was no doubt in your mind that he could tell your heartbeat was racing. between feeling his hair brushing on the sensitive skin, and his tongue soothing his love-bites, you were about to explode. your hips were practically moving on their own at this point, trying to get whatever friction you could.
"hey," you felt xavier's hands grab your hips firmly. "if you don't stop moving your hips like that there's gonna be a mess between us that i really don't wanna clean up."
"what do you-" he shifted your hips up a bit more, hitting something a bit harder than his thighs were. "oh-is-is that...?"
"yea," he got closer to your ear, beginning to suck on the lobe and continuing his ministrations.
"in the school bathroom!" bianca rang out, laughing at whatever story kent was telling this time.
"i think it's y/n's turn again," kent diverted everyone's attention to you, so you tried to ignore xavier sucking on your neck like a leech, albeit a really hot one, to get through this.
"oh, and it's my turn," yoko cheered. "truth or dare, y/n?"
you really didn't think you'd be able to survive whatever dare they would throw your way, not in the slightest, which is why you chose: "truth."
"alright," yoko looked towards bianca and kent before asking, "what was your first time like?"
ajax might as well have ripped his beenie off then and there because you froze. you hadn't done it. you haven't gotten past giving a guy a handjob, let alone sex.
you didn't know how long you were quiet for, but you did notice when xavier stopped his kissing. you could practically feel his stare right on your face. you wanted it to go away. you wanted to disappear. it was humiliating, really. at least you thought it was until...
"you haven't, have you?" kent chuckled as bianca stifled a laugh.
"are you serious?" yoko asked incredulously. "well, i guess it makes sense to me," she shrugged as you tore yourself off of xavier's body, having to pry his hand away from your waist.
"hey," he held onto your hand softly and looked at you with what you thought to be puppy-dog eyes, you didn't have the best view due to the tears blocking your eyes.
"just..." you sighed as you took your hand out of his and ran out of his room, dorm, and the building as a whole. you just wanted to walk around, feel comfortable. then it hit you that there was always one place where you felt comfortable.
after around 15 minutes of walking around to clear your head, you got to xavier's paint shed. you had gone there nearly every time you needed help with homework, needed some advice, or if you simply missed him. it's amazing that even though he wasn't there, you could still smell his presence, the mahogany and woods scent that felt like home to you now.
you had made several forts in the place before, having secret sleepovers with each other countless times just because you wanted to. so, you brought out the mattress that was set up against the wall, put the fitted sheet on it and set up the bed as usual before plopping down on it.
you didn't even want to cry anymore. you just wanted to disappear. you felt like such a loser. i mean, why is that such a big deal anyway? it's just sex. but then again, if it's 'just sex' then why haven't you just done it?
"y/n/n?" xaviers voice called out as he knocked on the door of the shed. "look, i know you're in there. just wanted you to know that i kicked everyone out, okay?" you stayed quiet. "y/n," he sighed. "you know that just because you haven't... yknow, doesn't mean anything right? what yoko was saying... she doesn't make sense. because anyone would be so lucky to have you. you're unbelievably kind, and generous, witty, hilarious... and beautiful. you're beautiful, y/n. please just let me in? i wanna talk to your face, not some door."
you sniffled with a laugh, "it's been unlocked the whole time, idiot."
"hey, now," he called as he walked through the door, ducking down a little as to not hit his head on the low hanging fixtures. "why'd you run like that?" he as beside you on the bed, placing your long-forgotten items of clothing on one of the tables.
"why wouldn't i?" you turned the question on him. "i was humiliated," you began to pick at your nails. "i mean, you saw what happened. i was already flustered because you were kissing my neck and then i felt your boner because i couldn't just sit fucking still, which was embarrassing enough, but then the guy i like finds out i'm a virgin too! it was just too much. and then they were laughing at me and.... yea," you took a deep breath once you were done rambling.
"the guy you like?"
"you can't tell me you still don't know," you rolled your eyes once more before xavier grabbed onto your hands to stop you from picking at them like he normally does. "you. you know. it's you."
he didn't even say anything. it wasn't until you mustered up the courage to look at him that you saw a smile gracing his face.
"then you should know why ajax and enid dared me to do that to you in the first place," xavier scooted closer to you on the bed. placing one of his hands on your thigh. "i told them a couple weeks ago that i was starting to really, really like you-as more than friends. they went crazy, telling me you felt the same and everything, but i couldn't believe it. i mean, you're just... you're everything, y'know?
"i meant everything i said when i was outside. you're so sweet, and smart, and god, it takes everything in me not to kiss you when you look at me. because when you look at me, you really see me," xavier finished.
"kiss me," you told him in a soft tone.
"what?" his brows furrowed before you, with a shocking wave of confidence, swung one leg over his lap, now facing him and straddling his lap. his hands went to your waist
"i said kiss me," you leaned in closer to him. "please."
it didn't take anything else for him to bring one hand up to cup your face before finally connecting your lips. it wasn't like fireworks went off, or cannons bursted. it was more like a sense of belonging, welcomeness, and home. your lips had been craving him for so long, it was a sweet, cold treat in the summer as your tongues began to glide with one another.
once again, your hips couldn't contain themselves as they began to rock back and forth on his lap, this time successfully getting the desired friction exactly where you wanted it. you sighed into his mouth, your hands dragging through his hair as he began to nurse the same neck he was kissing nearly 45 minutes ago.
"i thought that would be the only time i'd have you to myself," xavier droned on. "i might've gone a bit overboard..." he laughed as he traced circles on your neck.
"what...?" you backed away from him before he picked up his phone, showing you with the selfie side of the camera how he had littered your neck with deep hickeys. "xavier!" you playfully shoved his shoulder.
"you better get used to it," he shrugged with a sly grin. "i can be territorial at times."
"god, as if you couldn't get any hotter," you began to peel off your dress, reaching for the hem before xavier swatted your hands away.
"let me," he ordered, you listened immediately, retracting your hands and placing them on his shoulders as he helped you rid yourself of your dress. "i don't even understand why you wore this since it's freezing outside."
"hmm," you mockingly acted like you were thinking. "well, when the guy i like is going to be in a place with booze, there might be certain possibilities and i wanted to look nice."
"you look better than nice," he pressed your lips together once more. "i was hard long before you even sat on my lap, y/n/n."
"please fuck me?" your voice was soft and whiny. "please? i want you, i just need you to-to y'know... please, xay?"
"you sound so pretty when you beg for me," he let his hand trace your neck before he buried his hand in your hair, gently tugging it back before admiring you in your nearly naked state.
"xay, please?" you were holding onto the hem of his t-shirt, nearly stretching it out with your begging.
"okay, love," he chuckled before swiftly tossing his shirt over his head, letting it land somewhere he wasn't concerned with. "now we're a bit more even, yea?"
"i just... i need you..." you were a squirming mess in his lap, to think an hour and a half ago you were pleading with yourself to keep your dignity and now you were begging for xavier...
"what do you need from me?" he teased, letting one of his hands trail down your front, hovering over your center. "i need to hear you say it for me. tell me."
"i need you," you sighed as you buried your head in his neck. "i need you to make me... make me cum?"
he chuckled maniacally, "is that a question? i thought i told you to tell me what you want?"
"please just make me cum xavier!" your frustration showed as you began to lazily press kisses to his neck. "please?"
he swiftly turned over so you were laying on the pillow at the top of the bed, him hovering over you with his hair falling to your face. he began pressing kisses down your body, gently squeezing your breasts and sucking on your nipples. eventually, after a few minutes of teasing, he reached your center. he moved your panties down your legs and began pressing kisses to your thighs, alternating between each one.
"has anyone ever done this for you before?" you shook your head 'no.' "is it alright if i do?"
"anything, xay, anything, please," you nodded as your hands tangled into his hair.
he pressed gentle kisses around your clit before licking one line through your slit, lapping up your juices like a man starved. you heard him moan into your pussy, the vibrations shooting through your core shocking you more than you thought possible. you reactively tugged on his hair, tossing your head back as he continued, now sucking gently, very softly, on your clit.
"oh my fuck," you breathed out, looking down at xavier to find his eyes fixated on you and your reaction. "god, you look so pretty, xay."
you felt him smile against your pussy, not letting himself get distracted by little compliments that he was sure melted his heart completely. one of his hands was gripping your thigh so hard you were sure there would be marks the next morning, the other hand was placed on your lower stomach, pressing down just slightly. he used the hand that was rasping your thigh and gently pushed a single finger in.
your mouth formed in an 'o' shape at the intrusion. his fingers were much longer than your own, and when he curled it inside of you, you swore you could see stars in his eyes as he continued to suck and kiss your clit. he gently thrusted his finger in and out a few times before adding a second finger.
"please don't stop," you were gripping his hair so tight you were surprised it hadn't ripped out. "'m so close, xay."
he stopped sucking your clit momentarily to say: "be sure to look at me when you cum."
you nodded dumbly as he got back to work, and it wasn't long until you were at that edge that no other man has ever been successful in bringing you to. at first you threw your head back before you remembered what you had promised him. with a few more thrusts of his fingers, you saw the look of pride on his face when he felt you squeezing his fingers in a vice grip, your mouth dropped open completely as pornographic moans left your mouth.
"fuck, yes, xavier!" you ground against his mouth as he worked you down from your high. "holy shit," your chest was heaving as he kissed his way back up your body.
he hovered over you as he sucked on the same two fingers that were just inside you, groaning, "did i tell you how amazing you taste?"
"will you fuck me now?" you reached down between the two of you to palm him through his sweatpants. "i really, really want you."
"i don't want you to just want to do this because you want to get it over with," you could sense the sincerity in his tone. "i want this to be more than just a hookup."
"it's not, xavier," you cupped his face with one hand. "i assure you, it's not," you smiled as he pressed your foreheads together. "you mean so much more to me than just one amazing night, xay."
"are you sure you want to do this?"
"yes."
"wait, i don't have anything..." xavier hinted with a worried look on his face.
"well, i'm obviously clean, and i've been on the pill since the eighth grade," you shrugged. "if you want..."
"really?" his eyes widened at the thought, you nodded. "i've never... shit. this'll be a new experience for the both of us."
after a bit of shuffling, xavier lined himself up at your entrance, looking at you one more time for confirmation. as he entered you, it was like the wind was knocked out of you. your arms wrapped around his neck as he continued to push himself into you. at a certain point, you thought it was never-ending.
"god, you're so tight," he breathed into your neck, pressing a kiss to one of your hickeys as he continued.
your head was thrown back as he finally bottomed out in you, one of your arms wrapped around his waist while the other was around his neck with your hand buried in his hair.
"so deep," you closed your eyes at the sensation. "'s like you're in my stomach, holy fuck."
he pressed down on that same spot he had earlier, very gentle, but you felt it so, so much. "is that where?" you nodded fervently.
"please move, xay, please," your hand was practically clawing at his back.
"i'm gonna go slow, okay?" you nodded at his words. "if you change your mind about anything at all, say the word and i'll stop, alright?"
"okay," you agreed with a smile as he slowly pulled back out before reentering at the exact same pace.
with each thrust, his pace increased. your moans' volume increased too. it was as if each whimper, moan, and plea was simply egging him on and bringing him to the end of that wonderful precipice of pleasure.
"you look fucking perfect," his own groans and huffs of pleasure rang out. "such pretty tits," he messily grabbed one of them. when he brought his hand down to play with your clit, you knew you weren't going to last much longer. "and such a pretty pussy for me. all mine, y/n/n. all mine."
"god, it's-i'm..." you were cut off by a guttural moan. "i need to cum. i'm gonna cum! xavier, please don't stop! please!"
"where do you want it?"
"inside, please!" you huffed out, clawing at his back as you whimpered in his ear. "need it so bad."
"say you're mine," he ordered. you could feel his dick pulsing inside of you.
"i'm-oh god," you cried out once more, tears forming at your lash line. "i'm yours! i've always been yours, xay, please! fuck!" for the second time, xavier was able to bring you off that cliff, this time he followed suit.
"so fucking pretty when you cum," xavier added before with a few more thrusts, his thick cum coated your walls. "oh fuck."
"oh my god," you sighed out as xavier slumped against your body, laying completely on top of you.
"you got that right," you could feel his smile against your shoulder before he began to press kisses against your warm skin. "here," he reluctantly got up from his position after carefully pulling out of you, tucking himself back into his sweats, and reached for one of his recently cleaned towels (he had a rotation for them, alright?). he began to wipe up your thighs, being very gentle at your center.
"xavier?" you called before he laid back down.
"yea?" he looked at your worriedly before you smiled, simply asking: "can i wear your shirt to sleep?"
a bright smile made its way to his face, "of course, yea," he helped you poke your arms and head through the shirt before he stepped back, admiring you in it. "i almost like this on you more than nothing on you. almost."
"xavier!" you called before shoving him to the side. "you perv."
"you like this 'perv,' as you call it," he rolled his eyes as he began to cuddle with you on the mattress.
"i wanna lay on you," you tried to get onto your knees to maneuver your way on top before he had to catch your arm.
"let me help you a bit," he tried to hide his smug smile while he rolled the two of you over.
"i'm never gonna live this down," you shook your head as he raked his fingers through your hair.
"nope," you laid in the most comfortable silence for a few minutes before he spoke again: "y/n?"
"mhmm?"
"i might've lied earlier when i said that i told ajax and enid that i liked you," you could sense a bit of restriction in his tone.
"what do you mean?" you held your breath.
"i told them the truth," he pressed a kiss to your forehead, getting your attention so you were looking in his eyes. "that i'm in love with you."
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luvvixu · 4 months
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how to tame your boyfriend
content: bf!gojo, mentioned of sex and sexual stuffs, 16+, fluff, drabble, does not contain any smut, i think gojo's like this can't blame me
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wanna know how to tame your annoying (and horny) boyfriend when your flight is delayed?
that's very easy. just buy him some lego and he would go on instant mute.
"i can't believe you really bought satoru—a full 27 years old ass man—a set of legos?" your friend from the other line, shoko, wheeze and at the same time confused for your action to tame your boyfriend.
sighing hardly while massaging your temple, you answered. "i had to, sho. he won't stop bothering me to have a quickie since our flight was delayed and he was bored."
your flight overseas was delayed for three hours because of some maintenance needed to be checked in the aircraft. now, satoru thought it is a good idea to spend those three hours having a passionate fornication.
of course you immediately dislike the idea even though you are tempted too. you value your morals, ethics, and dignity. unlike your boyfriend, he has no shame and would even proudly tell some random people that you are his by some marks solely created.
"could've played with his phone but seriously, why lego?" shoko was still laughing, now that you opened your camera and showed her your boyfriend who's literally sitting on the airport floor with bricks of lego on his hands.
satoru looked so focused and unbothered, which is an extremely good thing—like he couldn't stop whispers in your ears, whining about how needy he is right now and how badly he wanted you. but now he's occupied, it is the greatest relief for you.
"first, his phone is dead and was tempt to buy a new fucking phone just because he said charging using a power bank takes a lot of time. had to smack the shit outta him and force him to get out of the apple store."
yep, the idiot forgot to charge his phone before you left for the airport. now his phone is dead, the desire to buy a new one instead of waiting for his phone to be charged in a powerbank is crazy. although, money is not a problem for the head of the gojo clan—he got figures that cost more, more, more than your annual salary.
"second, lego made him focused and entertained on building it, not for having scandalous sex with me. i feel like he's being my child than being my boyfriend at this moment." you joked, lowering your voice so your big baby wouldn't hear you.
"you said it yourself that satoru is a full package." shoko rolled her eyes, but she's not wrong tho. satoru is everything, he could easily afford things and could even make some things impossible to possible.
"touché."
shoko let out a laugh. "anyway, gotta go now. got a client in an hour so bye my boo, mwa!" sending also a virtual flying kiss to your platonic friend, you both bid a farewell to with sweet smile on your faces.
as you ended the call, you turned your attention to your boyfriend who's now almost done on his lego that he's been occupying himself for like an hour now.
you made to take some photo of him and post it on your close friends in instagram because this scene of your boyfriend is literally a wholesome and definitely iconic. satoru glanced at you when he heard you giggle at some adorable shots of your boyfriend.
"what are you laughing at?" your boyfriend glanced up to you, confused and warily.
you shook your head, holding your laughter to not raise any suspicion. "nothing babe, just focus on fishing your lego instead of other things."
satoru showed you the figure "oh but i'm finished and we still have like an hour before our flight…" he paused. your mouth hangs wide, questioning about how the hell he builds almost five hundred tiny pieces in just an hour?! truly your boyfriend was really something but this is wild.
"how did you—"
"can we have a quickie now?" satoru smiles sheepishly.
your face turns more sour at his shameless request. although you understand that satoru is a man in need, but his neediness sometimes is really out of place and it took a lot of effort just to stop him from doing so.
"no, satoru. instead, we're going to have a quickie stop at the lego shop to buy you some more entertainment."
your boyfriend pouted at your answer like a hurdled puppy. "but i'm enjoying it more when i'm inside you."
that completely took you off guard.
"... tempting but no."
©luvvixu2023
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argreion · 1 month
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Just a Deal
𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 — P in V, breeding kink/talk, mating press, cream pies, Leon being old and aching, talks of eating out/cunnilingus, talks of Advil (reader using the deal of Advil jokingly for sex). Leon wondering if he's mid.
𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝑪𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 — 1.5k
𝑵𝒊𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒍𝒆❜𝒔 𝑵𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔 — Well, this is my somewhat proud attempt to come back to writing smut. I want to write more, so... Yeah, there's that! I'd call this a valiant attempt, y'know? Breeding kink is yummy. Don't murder me if there's a mistake, I haven't written actual smut in so long. :')
· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·
“Just an idea.” You said, glancing over at the male with a small smirk. Talk of sex over dinner? Maybe you shouldn't have waited till he got home from a mission. Hearing the pop of his back and the pained groans miles away from the apartment. Yet, you have to make a deal sweeter; Advil. The baby he loved, would sing it to sleep if he could. Pop a few and it worked wonders on him.
“That idea is…” What does he respond with? Makes his dick hard? The idea of folding his lover? Tapping his fork against the ceramic—reminds you to scold him later for that. Fine china was getting harder to get, and you’d rather it not have scratches on it when it’s for sale.  “I wouldn't mind doing it if you'd want me to. Sounds interesting, doll. Didn’t know you’d like me to ‘ruin your pussy like it’s your last day alive. To fuck your babies into you’.”
“Never say that out loud ever again, my soul left my body for a few seconds.” You sighed, hand already coming to rub your face. Cheeks were flush from the embarrassment of him being blunt. Someone above, please shut this man up. 
“I’ll let you finish up here, ‘kay? Don’t keep me waiting too long, supercop.”
· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·
Two hours later, dinner finished, and clothes are torn and flung away.
Forced into a mating press against your shared bed. Your legs loosely around his hips, moving with each thrust. Balls slapping against your ass as Leon pressed you deeper into the bed. Soft moans came from your lips at his pace. Curling up to hit your core in just the right places. Leaking more than you should’ve, silly little idea.
His hands came to hold your upper back, making your body flush against his. “What, thought you wanted this, doll? Wanted to be full of babies, right?” He taunted, wanting to rub it in your face. Rub it in your face that you weren't ready for him—weren’t ready for subpar dick. You’d thought he’d be slow, boring, but no, someone liked this idea. The idea of breeding had gotten to him. So much so that he manhandled you and did it himself.
“Mmmm, look at you, already willing to become a mama. Can’t wait to cream this pussy...” Leon leaned in, his lips brushing against your ears. “We aren’t wasting any drop either, doll. You know the rule. Call me a baker for making a cute little cream puff; gotta make sure she’s extra full.”
His chest rumbled as he felt you tighten around him. Attempting to milk him of his worth. He was doing something right. Wringing out moans from your lips left and right. Was doing something right with the way this was going.
“You like that, don't you?” He purred, letting his forehead fall to your shoulder. Sweating at the extortion of his aging body. Nipping at the skin, he quickened his pace. Little red marks litter your upper torso, shoulder-to-shoulder.  “Didn’t know I had a whore in my apartment. Should’ve thought of this sooner.”
You moaned in response, the lewdity had you rolling. ‘Call me a baker for making a cute little cream puff; gotta make sure she’s extra full.' It was bad that your baby fever had already made you so… Aroused. Choose a mating press over anything else for merely that—breeding kink on an all-time high from that. Over the kitchen counter, on his motorcycle, in the car, anywhere. The thoughts running through your head made you clench, erupting a groan from Leon's lips.
“Seems my question is already answered—you are a whore. A cute one at that.”
Leon purred in delight, satisfied by your response. Hands moving from behind your back to beside your head. Engaging your head as he maneuvered himself comfortably so that he could get rougher. Force himself deeper, make him feel like he could do something.
Yet, when someone musters up all their strength; means they crash and fall harder—especially on their lover.
With each harsh thrust, Leon could feel himself being drained. His old age was catching up to him, as was the ache in his back. Beginning to bubble up from his lower back to the beginning of his spine. Arched over his love like a cat hissing in old-timey movies. Your fingers grasping at his back and legs tightening around him. Exposing your neck to the open-mouthed kissing he brought on you. Stubble brushing against your delicate skin, vulnerable to a quick hickey.
More moans came from your mouth as he buried himself inside you. Sent you spiraling with each slam of his hips. A cloudy ring started to form and leak down onto the bed. Needed this more often, needed to be manhandled.
“Almost there…” He panted after each word he spoke. You could feel pity in your chest as you watched him struggle. Stamina wasn’t his strong suit anymore, sadly. Reminds you of when he was better in his younger days. Twenty-seven and lasting two to four rounds.
Might buy an extra bottle of Advil, just for him. 
In the back of his mind, he was cursing himself out for not being you to a climax. He knew worth wasn't purely based on orgasms or how experienced he was. Gosh darn it, though, made him feel horrible. Useless, or some other word Rebecca used that he couldn't remember. 
Being brought out of his thoughts by the feeling of nails piercing his skin would leave a mark he’d have to explain at work. Your back arching into his chest surprised him—he had done it. Blue eyes widened as you seized in his grasp, mouth agape as you gushed around him. If he had only recorded this, he'd love every second of it. Imagining you sucking him in every way he could think possible. Oddly, brought a smile to his face, alongside the ego boost. 
“That's it, let it out. I gotcha, pretty girl.” Leon whispered, rubbing your cheek as your eyes fluttered. One second they were squeezed shut, and now it felt like he was looking down at the prettiest girl in the world. That pleased look in your eyes made his balls tighten. His eyes fluttered, as his hips stuttered. Oh, fuck him.
“Go ahead and let that pussy cry more for me… So fuckin' gorgeous. Deserves this so badly.”
He'd already reached his peak, cumming inside your walls, panting heavily. Wish he lasted longer than this. Arms encircling your head as he pressed himself fully into you. The sweat from earlier now oozing from the bedsheets. Squeezing his eyes shut as he slowly emptied himself into you. Counting his blessings as you'd nag him to help change the bedsheets later.
The drive slowly faded into stillness. Finally resting inside you as he seemed to come down from the quick high. In some ways, it felt anticlimactic. An anticlimactic filling that leaked down onto the bedsheets. Cloudy ring, now a creamy white. Fresh new stain to add to the collection.
“I'm getting old, aren't I?” Leon asked himself out loud, trying to break the silence. It felt awkward, impregnated—something he didn't like. Too serious for his brain to handle.
“Maybe.” Was all you said, letting out a heavy sigh. “It's certainly getting old that you're laying on me now.”
“Forgot about that, sorry.”
You could feel the bed dripping beside you as he moved off. Letting himself curl up beside you, not wanting to waste a drop in you. Leon felt fragile for some reason, like a shivering old man in your head. Curled up beside his wife—crying, ‘cause he ain't got no one better. Maybe calling him an old man suited Leon now.
“I mean, that wasn't amazing.”
You paused; maybe you should've chosen your words more carefully. Leon was sensitive. Sex didn't feel amazing like it did in books or movies. Could women get post-nut clarity? Was that even a thing? Were you having that, or were you just not womaning? Maybe you should save yourself thinking for another time. 
“But you do better than a lot of guys, at least. For a super awkward man, who crashes almost every vehicle he drives, and can't tie a tie, you did well. Mating press might be your forte in sex positions.”
A smile came to your lips, leaning over to kiss the tip of his nose. Pleasantries aside, he'd take it over you using a vibrator or dildo. Enjoyed watching it, but hated not being the one to do it. Ok, well, he's just picky in that regard. A bit of a bummer, wouldn't you think?
Well, there was something he wouldn't be bummed out about...
Leaning over, your noses barely touching as you asked the one important question on the tip of your tongue, “If I get you an extra bottle of Advil… Will you eat me out?”
The response couldn't get any better, as he smirked.
“If you get me ice cream, I will.”
“You've got cream right here, dumbass.”
The chuckle that left your lips felt sinister. Followed by a smirk as you straddled him. Hands pressed against the sheets as you rested mere inches above his face. Dripping down onto his dumbfounded face.
“Well? Get to it, lover boy.”
Oh, he loved this game again.
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𝑻𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 — @rigorwhoring
You're welcome to send an ask or DM to be on my tag list!
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cupid-styles · 13 days
Text
golf (sugar daddy h)
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word count: 1.3k
content warnings: spicy but no smut, dirty talk, degradation, exhibitionism if you squint
sugar daddy h masterlist | main masterlist
talk to me
. . .
Mia doesn't care about golf. 
Not once in her life has she ever thought it was a fascinating sport. There are some sports, like hockey or baseball, that, at the very least, seem hot, if not a little attractive, but golf isn't one of those. 
And of course, Harry loves to golf.
It's nothing against him, really. If she's being honest, in her eyes, golf is a rich man's sport. Since they started seeing each other months ago, Harry has always made it a point to go golfing at least once a week. He has a membership to a country club nearby and either goes by himself, with his friends, or takes business partners there, where they spend the day drinking and hitting balls and whatever else wealthy people do at country clubs.
Mia wouldn't know because she's never gone and, quite frankly, she never wants to go. 
She adores Harry. She really, truly does, but being a frequent attender of the country club to play such a silly, boring sport just serves as another class barrier between them. Harry grew up going to golf camp, for crying out loud! Mia spent her summers working at the local ice cream shop, where she got paid $7 an hour to get yelled at by angry parents because she was only allowed to let their kids taste three flavors before they had to buy something.
So when Harry asks if she wants to spend her Saturday golfing with him at the club, she tries to come up with a million excuses as to why she can't. But because he's him, and he has a pretty face and a soothing voice and he threw in the prospect of spoiling her with a massage at the spa after they finished their game, she can't find it in her to say no. 
Harry has a business dinner the night before so Mia sleeps at her own place, which she's kind of surprised with, to be honest. (She anticipated him asking her to stay over so she didn't have a chance to get out of it.) Even despite the text he sent her at 11:40 pm to let her know that he got home safely (that's basically 2 am in Harry time), he shows up to her house in his golf clothes at 9 am on the dot, breakfast and coffee in hand. 
Mia has to physically drag herself out of bed to let him in, a scowl on her face, even though he went out of his way to go to her favorite bagel shop. 
"Morning, grumpy," he greets cheekily, smushing a kiss to her cheek. He doesn't even bother toeing his shoes off like he normally does, instead giving her bum a soft pat when she turns back around, "We have reservations at the club for 10, so you should go get dressed. You can eat in the car."
"Are you sure you want me to go?" Mia asks, and Harry has to ignore the slight hopefulness to her tone, "I've never even played golf before, I don't think I'll be very good—"
"It's not about being good, honey, I just want to spend the day with you. Show you off, y'know?" he leans forward to press a kiss to her temple before ducking down to catch her ear. "Now be good and go get dressed."
He doesn't catch the narrowing of her eyes as she reluctantly heads back to her bedroom, where she grabs the stupid golf outfit he insisted on buying her for this very occasion. She told him she was fine with wearing leggings and a tee-shirt, but he explained to her that there was a certain etiquette that came with golf, which included clothing. (Like Mia said, it's a rich man's sport.) So he bought her a short little skirt and a workout top and, if she's being frank, she's not sure if it's not more for him than it is for the game itself. 
She tried it on a few days ago when he brought it over and she batted at his chest when she saw the length of the skirt on her — unlike those trendy workout skorts that had spandex shorts underneath, the pleats of the one Harry purchased barely went down to the tops of her thighs. With a grumble, she said she'd just wear boyshorts to make sure no one "saw the goods."
But now that she's getting dressed for their golf day, she thinks she has a better idea. 
. . . 
Mia sucks at golf.
Harry keeps trying to encourage her and help her, but they're on hole 8 of 18, and she's exhausted. It's warm, she's sweaty, and Harry's beating her ass in the game. (What else would you expect from someone who spent their summer vacations playing every day?) 
"You got this, baby," he says, giving her waist a small squeeze as they approach hole nine. She rolls her eyes from behind her sunglasses, rolling out her wrist in an effort to get rid of the cramps. "Do you still need me to help you?"
Just as she's about to say yes, she remembers the impulsive decision she made this morning. And she realizes she knows exactly how to get this game to end. 
"Actually, I think I can do it," she replies with a smile, jumping out from the golf cart. "Will you just stand behind me and make sure I'm doing it right?"
Harry's pleasantly surprised but nods his head, a zip of enthusiasm firing through his chest. He follows her out and stands with his hands on his hips as she sets herself up, trying to find her stance. 
Per Harry's instructions, she leans over just slightly, a small bend in her knees. And that's when he sees it. 
She's not wearing anything underneath her skirt. 
"Mia," he growls, ambling towards her to cover her from behind, "What the fuck do you think you're doing?"
"Um, I think it's called teeing off? That's what you said, anyway—"
"Not that," he mutters, a protective hand squeezing her hip. He glances around them to make sure no one's watching them as his fingers dance down to the hem of her skirt, gently pulling it down. "Why aren't you wearing any underwear, Mia?"
"Ohhhh, that?" she asks, turning in his grasp. "I must've forgotten them. I'm sorry."
She has a look of false innocence on her face, her eyes rounded slightly and her lips pouted as if she was truly making a genuine apology. He's seething — he wants nothing more than to bend her over his knee and issue loud, harsh smacks to her ass, but he thinks she would like that too much. 
"You're such a fucking slut." he mumbles angrily, his jaw clenching. He grabs the golf club from her hand and uses his other to yank her back in the direction of the golf cart, a surprised yelp sounding from her mouth. "Are you that much of a brat that you've been walking around with your pussy out all day?"
She shrugs nonchalantly as she climbs into the golf cart. Harry rolls his eyes and shifts the key into the ignition, starting the machine back up. 
"Guess you'll just have to take me home, then," Mia replies with a sigh. Harry snorts and shakes his head. 
"You fucking wish," he says. She blinks at him. "No, baby. I'm gonna take you into one of those private bathrooms, edge you until you're crying, and then we're gonna finish this game."
Mia's eyes widen, shifting uncomfortably in her seat as he drives over a bump in the road. 
"Good thing I brought that nifty little remote control vibrator with me," he continues with a smirk. "Had a feeling you'd be a fuckin' brat today."
Mia doesn't know if she's ever regretted something so much before.
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shun-nie · 9 months
Text
SatoSugu x reader
=>They can't reach you while you're on a mission.
—>a little angst to fluff
!!!!!swearing, gn!reader, mentions of death!!!!!
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"Why did Yaga-Sensei gave the mission to Y/N anyway?" Satoru said as he frowned, you left early this morning and still didn't came back.
"Because Y/N always finishes their work smoothly, they always thinks logically and moves smart in missions." Suguru replies, he missed you too. He was also annoyed that Yaga-Sensei gave the mission to you but it was understandable why he did that. Suguru sighs, he and Satoru were sitting on a bench, sulking beacuse you're not here.
"I missed Y/N, Suguru. Why haven't they come back yet? The mission shouldn't be too hard for them right?" Satoru whined, it was so boring without you. And you always finished the missions quickly, plus you would call them if you were going to be late. Suguru frowned, what if something had happened to you? Sure you were strong and smart (pretty too) but anything could happen right?
Suguru immediately took his phone out of his pocket, went into his contacts and tapped your name. Satoru stopped whining and turned his gaze to Suguru, watching him get impatient as you didn't pick up. Suguru called you for the second time, after ringing a few times, he heard the message "the person you are calling cannot be reached at the moment, please try again later". Suguru looked at the phone screen, why weren't you picking up?
"They usually pick up the phone even if they're busy..." Satoru said quietly, he was thinking the worst scenario. Did you got hurt? Oh god. What if you did?
Suguru got up from the bench and looked at Satoru, Satoru undertood what he meant even if he didn't say anything. He stood up as well, they both walked off to find Yaga.
[meanwhile]
"Fuck, this shit hurts." you said as you clenched your fists, pressing a cloth over the bleeding wound. The mission went smoothly, there was two 1st grade curses. You got rid of them but then a special grade showed up, and there was a little girl in its hands. You had to save the child first, you did save the child and killed off the special grade but you were injured badly.
"Y-Y/N-san, please don't-please don't die!!!" the little girl cried out, tears running down her face. You panicked a little but calmed down.
"Hey, I won't die. Don't worry. I'm one of the strongests, y'know?" you grinned, you actually felt like shit and your head was hurting, there was a ringing in your ears, your phone was broken, you were bleeding from multiple spots. 'Fuck, I'll probably die.' you thought, guilty that you lied to the little girl.
"W-what do we do?! You'll die!!!" the little girl cried even louder, hugging your body close. Not wanting to let go. You sighed and pat her head, thinking of a way out.
"Say, what's your name?" you asked gently.
"Y-Yume..."
"Yume, that's a pretty name. Just like you." You said and smiled, Yume wiped her tears. Looking at you.
"Yume, can you find me a long stick?"
[...]
"Sensei, we have to look for them!! Let us leave!!
"I said no, Satoru. Y/N is strong, no need to worry about them."
Satoru clenches his teeth, clearly angry. Yaga refused to tell where you are and both Satoru and Suguru were worried about your safety. Sure, you were strong. There is no doubt in that, but you were still human and not an immortal. You could've die while they were sitting on a bench doing literally nothing. Suguru frowned at the idea of you dying alone, he wouldn't want that. You didn't deserve that.
Yaga couldn't reach you too, you didn't pick up his calls either. He was worried too, but he knew you were strong and believed that you would manage to get the work done.
"Sensei, we know Y/N is strong. But that doesn't change the fact they can get hurt." Suguru said, trying to remain calm. Yaga looked at them and opened his mouth to talk but Haibara opened the door harshly, he had a scared look on his face. Satoru and Suguru shared a look before looking at Haibara, Yaga was about to scold him for not knocking but he got silent as his eyes widened at Haibara's words.
"SENSEI!!! Y/N-SAN CAME INJURED, THEY'RE NOT BREATHING!!!!"
[...]
"..-/N...!"
".Y/-....!"
"Y/N!!"
"..The hell do you want? Don't scream in my ear you dumb fuck..." you said with a tired tone and opened your eyes slowly. Blinking multiple times to adjust the lights.
You saw 2 familiar faces when you opened your eyes, then you sense that there are 3 people in the room. All the eyes on you.
"Glad to see you're the same even if you came back from death." you heard Shoko's voice, she sound tired. And her voice was hoarse, did she cry?
You tried to process what had happened for a few seconds, and when you remembered what had happened, you immediately sat up in bed. Your head, throbbing as you did so. Suguru and Satoru were looking at you with concerns, Satoru probably cried as his eyes were red. Oh. Oh shit.
"Yume...Where is Yume? Is she okay?" You asked quickly, turning your gaze to Shoko, she sighed and nodded.
"Yeah, there was not even a scratch on her body. She's sleeping in your room." Shoko said and got silent for a moment before talking again.
"You almost died and you're not even worried about yourself..?" Shoko said quietly. You sighed and let Suguru lay you down on the bed.
"I'm sorry. The special grade just showed up, I couldn't just left Yume to it's hands." you replied quietly, "Sorry..." You said again. Suguru kissed your forehead, he was holding your hand as your other hand was being held by Satoru. Shoko walked over to your bed and kissed your cheek, it hurted to see you in this position.
"Just rest, yeah? Don't worry much about it." she said and walked towards the door, leaving the room to smoke her stress off. You were left with Satoru and Suguru, Satoru was resting his head on your stomach as he played with your fingers. Suguru was stroking you hand with his thumb, probably think of which words he should say.
"Satoru, Suguru. I'm sorry I worried you both." You said, not looking at them. Satoru pulled his chair closer to your bed, kissing the side of your lip softly before grinning. Teasing you about how depressed you sound, you teased back telling he looks as depressed as you. Suguru watched you both and smiled to himself.
He was glad you didn't left them.
.
.
.
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servicpop · 2 months
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CURRENTLY VIEWING : slightly obsessive deliquent oc x good student male!reader
「ㅤSFWㅤ」ㅤbandaging up your (almost) bf adrien after a bad fight!
✙ warnings — mention of violence / blood / slight homophobia / slight suggestions of stalking or obsession
notes ,, first actual writing post... hope you guys like it "
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Adrien and you lived two worlds. You were a model student, perfect in every way, whereas Adrien was nothing but a deliquent who skipped all his classes and failed all of his subjects (except for sports). If you two were so different, how did you end up together?
It started with an exchange of glances when you both started your first year of being a senior, somehow your presence was never known by Adrien until that one glance turned into never ending eye-contact, briefly smiling at eachother as you two met eyes from across the courtyard. His heart felt like it was about to crumble whenever you smiled at him. Your lips, your perfectly imperfect teeth shining at him. He had definitely fallen for you.
But how would his friends feel if they knew he was crushing on another guy?
As much as he wanted to hide it he couldn't. Everytime he went home and sat down in his chair, he would be welcomed with your face in the form of printed pictures stored in his top drawer. He knew it was wrong but he couldn't help it, you were so attractive you reeled him in like a fish. But somehow. Somehow. You and him talked more and more, exchanged numbers, hung out a few times and even brushed hands once! Adrien for sure didn't wash his hand after that. You weren't confirmed to be dating but it sure seemed like it.
And that was the start of Adrien's fall for you.
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It was around 5:00pm, the sun still shining brightly but casted a slight orange hue into the empty council room, indicating that sunset would near. You were currently in said room, sorting the books, cleaning the tables, finishing off the work your teachers assigned you because you were such a good student. Yeah it was nice for them to rely on you but to be honest, all you wanted to do was go home but alas you couldn't.
Almost as if the universe pitied your unbearable boredom, the door to the council room clicked opened. At first you thought it was a teacher, but turning around you met the deep eyes of Adrien. His soulless eyes bore into yours, his knuckles dripping with blood as he stumbled into the room, almost collapsing on the couch.
"Got into another fight," He grumbled, his deep sultry voice reverberated in the room. Shit, his voice was hot. Snapping out of your thoughts, you quickly rushed over to him, viewing his bloody and bruised knuckles. It looked bad. Probably from beating the shit out of someone but you wouldn't question it. After some rummaging around you finally found the first aid kit, clicking the white box open before kneeling down infront of Adrien, a small smirk plastered his face.
"You don't have to you know? I just wanted—" Adrien's voice was cut out by a sharp hiss as you applied the alcohol to his wounds.
"Let me be a good friend to you."
Ooh... friend? That hit Adrien straight to the gut
"I just wanted company."
"Then your not allowed to hold my hand with those bloody knuckles."
"..."
"please bandage my fingers."
A wholehearted chuckle left your throat as you fished out the puppy patterned bandages around his knuckles, making sure you kissed each and every knuckles after. Just to make sure that there was no lingering pain of course, not because you two were had something for eachother or anything. You looked up at Adrien to see a small smile on his face, he was always so serious looking and whenever he smiled it was usually the shit eating grin type of smile. You had only really grown closer with him for a few weeks now so... why were you already hooked on him?
"You lost in thought?" He asked, snapping you out of your little trance. You shook your head, and he brought your chin up to meet his in a light kiss, his calloused fingertips gripping your chin lightly while his other hand found solace in your own. It was something straight out of a romance movie, his warm fingers against yours, his lips against your soft ones in such a gentle kiss. You never knew deliquents could be this gentle. Pulling away you wiped your lips and tugged your hands from Adrien's. You weren't dating him. You can't do this. You turned your head a pout adorned your lips, "Don't just casually kiss me," you huffed.
"But I know you liked it." Adrien hummed.
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extra notes ,, I didn't have a full goal for what relationship reader and Adrien would have but i really liked the enemies to lovers sort of denial trope. I also experimented with the colour coding of the text, I find it easier to identify when they're speaking but let me know your preferences! I'm a bit nervous posting this since its my first time ever posting on tumblr but yeah! Also no smut yet, still getting warmed up you know
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bon2bonn · 3 months
Text
Media Menace
22!F1 grid X female!driver!reader
Words count : 1.5k
* just Some of the fans favourite moments of Y/N being the media menace she is ✨.
It was as a normal interview with Seb standing in the media pin , being asked about the drivers and the line up so far , he listened carefully before he answered " well , I think we have a solid lineup so far, each have their own unique driving style and that makes it more interesting to see and to compete with on track , they surly matured from where they started and........" What the fans didn't expect was when the camera zoomed in on the back of the pin , where some of the drivers were seen carrying a wiggling Charles trying to escape their hold as they marched on , being led by Y/N , who was chanting " to the pit ! , to the pit! " hand raised with a water bottle in it , her media officer could be seen standing at the back facepalming as she watched her driver walking away unfazed by the cameras following them .
••
*Crack-heads leader 🪄.
They paused as they came across Fernando , who was being interviewed close by and asked her something while pointing at Charles, she answered back and he nods at her , raising his own water bottle in a cheer , letting them go on their way with Charles seemingly pleading to be let down but no one dared to help him as the rest of the grid and media officers watched in amusement as they disappeared out of frame , the camera zoomed out and turned back to Seb as he finished his answer , blissfully unaware of the chaos behind him .
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* The road to Silverstone fistfight! , choose your fighter ! MV#33 Vs LH#44 🥊💪🏻.
She sat between Max and Lewis, bored out of her mind and fed up with their pity low-key shit talk by both drivers along with her team's principal and the media exaggerating the rivalry between them three , ignoring the reporters trying to bait her with their twisted questions as yet again she got stuck in the crossfire.
One reporter asked "what's your input on the ongoing feud ? " she let out a sigh at the repeated question for the millionth time this weekend alone , answering with a shrug " I don't know mate , I just work here " . Another one asked " what do you think of this ongoing rivalry, and do you think it'll last and how today's results will effect tomorrow's race ? " She answered nonchalantly " I sure hope it wouldn't affect tomorrow's race for I'm starting between them " giving them both a pointed look as if warning them , both looked away trying to maintain a stoic face listening as she went on answering , ignoring her officer who kept waving their hands at her from the back to cut it out " and as for if it'll last I honestly think today's quali could've been a fist fight, you know , end it there and move on with their day but no one is ballsy enough to arrange it , so here we are " leaving the reporters with a hanging jaws and taken back looks along with the driver's media officers as she leaned back into her chair waiting patiently for the next question .
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* "Bitch! , I'm out!" .
Being seated in another post-race conference with Seb and Lewis after scoring P2 after a breathtaking battle against Seb, both Seb and her were beyond exhausted from pushing eachother to the limit but they enjoyed how they kept eachother at the tip of their toes , same as the fans who were at the edge of their seats anticipating who'd cross the finish line first between these two , and the final lap was proof of it , but she made sure to secure herself the position by one tenth of a second ahead of Sebastian who made sure to congratulate her first , everyone was pleased with the race results, well, everyone but the reporters who kept slipping backhanded remarks starting from the post-race interview up untill the actual press conference where they kept asking whether she considered another career or if she ever consider an early retirement , she got bored as another one asked why she still held on to the F1 career instead on Turning to other fields os sports , she gave him a fed up look " I just wake up everyday and decide that I want to make my life harder , why choose something else easier while I can make myself miserable here with you lot asking me the same question in hopes I'd give a different answers?" That got them to shut down for a while before another one asked the same , again.
Before either Seb or Lewis could shut them for their way or choice of questions she took the mic with no hesitation addressing the reporter who asked her for the third time when she'll take the retirement decision " look , and listen carefully cause I'm going to say it once , and I won't be repeating myself . when I Y/N L/N finally decide to retire from F1 my statement would be " Bitch, I'm out " nothing more , and definitely nothing less , so untill I myself say I am retiring I won't entertain this question anymore, and I advise you along with everyone else to do the exact same thing . next question please ! " Leaning back with a leg crossed over her knee as she waited for the next question . And It'd be save to say no one dared to poke at her with such assumptions after that answer , and earning herself the Bear nickname.
•••••••••••••••••••••••
* Toto's karma .
She rolled her head back distractedly looking up at the sky as she had to sit again through one of the team's interviews with her and Lewis both stuck with Toto as he went on and on about the teams competing against Red Bull and their chances this season and his opinion on drivers etc ...., she looked at the side , waving at some of the fans who walked by and shouted for her attention, sending them hearts and making faces before she was brought back by the host asking them three " speaking of the Red Bulls and the on going rivalry , who can you say is your favourite driver " Toto answered before any of his driver's could do, in a dismissing tone " in Red Bull? , I can't say there's anyone one I can name " . she however smirked as she shared a side look with her teammate before she answered ignoring Toto's pointed look giving him a wide tight lipped syndical smile " Oh! , but I know one I could name , you might be very familiar with him after all " the host eagerly look at her waiting for her answer " my favourite Red Bull bull driver is Toto Christian Wolff " Lewis tried to hold back his laugh as she kept smiling smugly at the said man , who looked away at the mention of his name with his eyes clenched in a grimace , wondering what have he ever done in his past life to get her as a karma/driver . The host stuttered before changing the topic , asking the drivers about their upcoming summer breaks and holidays .
••••••••••••••••••••••
* lando's downfall (literally) .
She stood in the media pit doing an interview with one of her favourite reporters , answering swiftly as the reporter gave her questions she actually enjoyed for once , not the diet and ignorant questions as if she barely knew anything about the sport , let alone drive . Her interview was going well , too well if she could say , because not long after she was halfway through answering her question , a gremlin decided to poke her for the fun of it. Having finished his interview already he turned to her to fill the time before his next interview , and boy would he regret it .
She kept swating his hands away and smacking him in attempt to finish her interview in peace , but no , he didn't pay her any mind untill he was called away . She glared at his smug face as he successfully annoyed her for the day , then she looked at the reporter with a wide sweet smile as she said " he'll regret it , trust me " nodding along as the reporter laughed nervously at her not knowing how to react , but that turned into shock as the driver excused herself for a moment.
she went around the pit sneaking up behind the McLaren driver, giving a thumps up to the reporter who looked at the camera with wide eyes before back at her , only to witness as she swept her foot in a kick aimed at the back of lando's knees, causing him to gasp as his feet gave up on him and he fell face first on the ground mid interview . She dusted her hands in accomplishment as she made her way back to the interview , asking as she smiled innocently " so , where were we?"
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theprettywriter · 8 months
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The devil's darling : Osamu Dazai
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Synposis : with your first visit to the port mafia's headquarters, you see the other side of your lover. The one that he never showed you before. It was as if you suddenly remembered that he wasn't just your sweet boyfriend . He was also the most feared man in Yokohama. He was also the youngest boss of the criminal organisation, the port mafia.
Genre/ warnings: port mafia boss dazai, fluff, angst, mentions of blood, knife, mentions of getting stabbed, slightly suggestive
A/n: this story doesn't follow the original beast au storyline. In fact I won't even call it beast au because everything else is same other than dazai being the boss.
Author's pov
You hummed a soft tune as you walked around the huge office, lightly touching the art piece that hung on the wall in fear of damaging it somehow. Now you know you just shouldn't touch the delicate art work but you couldn't help yourself. If you find something fascinating then you just need to feel it once. And you also know that your boyfriend wouldn't blink an eye even if the art piece got damaged. He's more than capable of buying a few hundreds of the same piece if he wants but you'd rather live without the guilt of ruining it.
Deciding that you should probably stop touching it, you took a step back, opting to admire it from a distance. "sweetheart" you perked up at the sound of his voice and turned around, your lips curling up in a soft smile as your eyes met. "hmm?" you hummed silently asking him to continue.
Dazai placed the papers he was going through down on his desk, looking at you with soft eyes "are you feeling bored, my love?" he mumbled and you quickly shook your head. Well you admit that you were starting to feel a tiny bit bored with him silently working on some papers but you didn't want to disturb him so you opted to look around his office to pass some time. You know he's a busy man so you cherished every moment with him that you can spend in comfortable silence.
He looked at you silently for a moment before pushing his chair back slightly and extending a hand towards you "come here angel" your smile widened and you skipped towards him, placing your hand on his. A small smile tugged on his lips as he pulled you on his lap, kissing your wrist when you cupped his face with soft hands.
He hummed raspily when you leaned forward to press a quick kiss on his lips, his one arm wrapping around your waist while the other tucked your hair behind your ear "hey samu" you whispered against his lips before pulling back, giggling when his lips chased yours "hey angel" he mumbled pulling you in another kiss "you know I can tell when you're getting bored, sweetheart. You keep looking at the clock every now and then."
You scrunched your nose smiling sheepishly. Of course he'd catch on "okay I am feeling a little bored but it's fine. Your office is so big I'm sure I'll find something interesting in here" you said tucking a side of his hair behind his hair. You love it when he tucks his hair behind his ear. He hums as his hand slips inside your shirt, lightly caressing your bare waist "do you want to go back home? I can call a car for you -" before he could finish his sentence, you cut him off quickly shaking your head "no no I'm fine. I want to stay here with you. I can wait until you finish your work and we can go home together " you paused before adding "b-but I can go back if I'm disturbing you"
He tched pulling you closer "nonsense. You're never disturbing me, angel. I'm happy that you're here. I was asking in case you wanted to go back" you smiled at that, kissing his nose "then we'll go back together" he smiled softly with his hand going to the back of your neck. Pulling you towards him, his lips brushed against your forehead before he pressed his lips on yours in a deep kiss. Your eyes fluttered shut as you wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing him back softly.
At the same time, someone knocked on the door and you pulled back startled, going to get up but dazai didn't let you. You looked at him surprised when his grip around your waist tightened and he held you firmly on his lap while someone entered the room "boss" Nakahara Chuuya's voice sounded in the room and you turned your head to see chuuya standing there with his head bowed and his one hand holding his hat against his chest "they've been taken care of as you asked" who was taken care of? You'll never know and you don't even want to know.
You were just here to spend some time with your lover "good. Now chuuya, you've come right in time" chuuya looked up, silently asking dazai to give him his next orders "see, this is the first time my sweet girl has visited the headquarters and she's started to feel bored so would you mind giving her a tour around the building while I finish my work?" you looked at dazai surprised while chuuya nodded "of course not. I'd be happy to" "samu" you whispered tugging his coat slightly to make him look at you "I'm fine staying here" dazai smiled, running his thumb across your bottom lip "I know your curious little brain is dying to look around the building, sweetheart. So go with chuuya and I promise I'll be done by the time you come back. Then we'll go home"
You hummed thinking for a moment before nodding and looking at him with a smile. He raised an eyebrow when he recognized the mischievous glint in your doe eyes . You bite his thumb lightly, giggling softly when you saw his eyes darken a shade before getting off of his lap and pressing a kiss on his forehead "then I'll see you later Samu" he hummed, squeezing your hip and watched as you turned around and started walking towards the door.
You said a small thank you to chuuya as he held the door open for you and turned around one last time to wave at dazai, smiling as he waved back. You fiddled with your fingers awkwardly as you both passed by the multiple guards whose jobs were to guard the boss's office. Each one bowed towards you and you almost told them to stop bowing so much. You weren't used to it, unlike dazai who wouldn't even glance at them.
The long walk towards the elevator was silent with chuuya walking besides you in a respectful distance. You'd seen him many times before. You're aware that he's dazai's right hand man so you've seen him besides dazai multiple times but you've never talked to him properly so you were a little scared that the whole time will be spent in awkward silence.
So when you both reached the elevator and he pressed the button, you finally decided to break the silence "I hope I'm not disturbing you while you're busy, nakahara san" Chuuya's gaze snapped at you and his smile made you feel a little at ease "of course not, y/n San. I could actually use a little walk right now too. And please just call me chuuya" you nodded smiling softly as you both stepped in the elevator, now feeling more relaxed.
"is there anything you'd like to see first?" chuuya asked before pressing any button. You shook your head and he nodded "then we'll start floor by floor" the moment You both stepped out of the elevator, you were suddenly aware of the many eyes on you and it made you feel very, very uncomfortable. It was like every person in the floor was staring at you and judging you.
Your gaze fell on the floor and you whispered to chuuya "is it just me or is everyone staring?" chuuya kept his eyes ahead, chuckling softly. He didn't need to look around the room to see what everyone was looking at. "don't worry. This is the first time the mafia is seeing their boss's partner. That's why they're all staring. They don't mean any harm" even though he said that, he still looked around the room once with his eyes cold and stern. And once was enough to make all the men look away.
You didn't notice when people stopped staring at you because you were already busy looking around the huge place. There were so many long hallways and even more doors that you were sure you'd get lost in here if you wander around alone. Every person around you stepped back as you walked past them. But thankfully you were distracted enough to pay them no mind.
"this is the security room" chuuya said stopping in front of a black door before opening it. You hummed leaning forward on your tiptoes to look at the dark room. The only light in there being the many monitors that showed each and every part of this building. "you can go inside" chuuya smiled as your eyes widened "I can?" he nodded "of course you can" he held the door open for you but before you could take a single step in, the men sitting inside were already standing up and bowing a full 90°. Ah they must have probably seen you with dazai through the cameras when you had entered the building. Your eyes widened even more and you hastily said "p-please continue your work!" before looking at chuuya who nodded chuckling softly and closed the door.
"let's not go inside any room from now" you look at him sheepishly and he nodded "as you wish" you had a feeling he was trying to be polite by now laughing at you.
The next half hour went by a blur. Walking around the building, with him showing you the various rooms. You actually managed to see the inside of their training room because it had glass doors instead of the black wooden ones. From the outside you could see various types of guns hanging on a wall and many men training. And After only seeing men on every floor, you were surprised and very happy to see a girl outside the training room. She was wearing a mask so you couldn't see her face but before you could stop yourself, you waved at her with an excited smile. Your smile softened when you saw her eyes widen for a moment before she shyly waved at you and bowed before entering the room.
"that was Gin" chuuya said as you both walked towards the elevator "gin?" you looked at him and he nodded "Gin akutagawa. She is Ryunosuke's sister" your eyes widen in recognition "I didn't know he has a sister. They seem completely opposite of each other " you smiled at the image of the two siblings "they are" chuuya replied shortly.
After walking around the building for another 10 minutes, you were starting to feel tired. You've been walking around since 40 minutes but there are still places left to see. It seems like chuuya noticed your pace getting slower and stopped before turning around and looking at you "are you feeling tired, y/n San?" you smiled slightly and nodded "a little" ''would you like some water?" chuuya asked pressing the button on his ear piece and you nodded again "yes some water would be great. Thank you" he gestured for you to follow him "this is the resting area. You can rest here for a while and then I can take you back to the boss's office" he told you before saying something in his ear piece.
You wanted to tell him that you were fine and that you can continue the tour but before you could say anything, you both heard a commotion from nearby. Chuuya's gaze snapped towards the voices and he looked at you for a second "please wait here for me y/n San. I'll be back in a second" you know that you're safe here. This building literally belongs to your boyfriend and all these men work for him. But still the idea of being left alone in between all these new faces made you a little uncomfortable so you shook your head and stood up "I'll come with you" he nodded and got in front of you. All this time he was walking besides you so you were confused as to why he suddenly got in front of you "I'd like You to stay behind me" all the warmth in his voice had disappeared and you recognized the coldness in his voice. You've heard it before when he's doing his job as dazai's bodyguard and second in command.
You followed him as he walked towards the direction where the voices were growing louder and louder, until you both reached what looked like a room made for holding different types of weapons. You peeked around chuuya to see a small group of men standing at the center of the room but your eyes widened when you saw him "dazai?" you whispered, a smile blooming on your face but it soon dropped when chuuya growled "what the fuck are you doing?" you realised that the words weren't directed to dazai but the man standing in front of him.
"y/n San don't come any closer" chuuya said without looking at you and rushed by dazai's side. Your nervousnsess seemed to grow when you sensed the tense atmosphere in the room. Dazai looked calm at once glance but if you looked closely you could see the coldness in his eyes as he raised a single hand "chuuya. Stand back" Chuuya's jaw clenched but he didn't argue and stood a step behind dazai.
"now" a shiver ran down your spin when his lips tugged up in a smile. Not the smile that he gives you. But a cold and humorless one. "why don't you continue?" his voice was calm when he spoke to the man in front of him and only then did you look at the unknown man. While dazai looked as calm as ever, the man in front of him seemed to be shaking with fear. You looked at dazai nervously when he took a step ahead, causing the man to step back "you were saying something weren't you? Cat caught your tongue?" his lips pulled up in a smirk and there was almost a pleasant glint in his eyes when the man opened his mouth to say something "you're crazy" he sneered causing an empty laugh to slip past dazai's lips "oh really? I wouldn't have known until you told me"
Suddenly your eyes caught the movement of the man's hand and your eyes widened when you noticed the shine of a knife in his belt. For some reason the only thing going in your mind was that you had to take dazai out of here. So your legs started moving before you could even comprehend it and you were already running towards him. The man stumbled back when you got in between him and dazai and you breathed shakily reaching up to cup his face "samu" you whispered, your thumb rubbing his cheek softly. You didn't know what you were feeling when his gaze fell on you. That cold and empty gaze looked at you for a moment before a smile pulled up on his lips. But that wasn't the same smile he gave you almost an hour ago. That smile was full of love and warmth but this one lacked both of those emotions.
Chuuya had pulled his gun out the moment you stepped in but you were too busy trying to find your dazai to notice that. Your eyes searched his and you felt his hand gracing your waist in a light, feathery touch. And then as you continued looking in his eyes, trying to find the same warmth, you realised with a sinking feeling that you weren't looking at your lover right now. You were looking at the most feared man in the city.
"sweetheart" he mumbled, his fingers digging in your skin slightly with his voice void of an emotion. He always calls you that so why did it feel so different right now? "go back to my office. I'll be there soon" he wasn't asking you. He was telling you to go back. But that didn't stop you from shaking your head. You needed to get him out of here. "come with me" you whispered with pleading eyes, gripping his coat and hoping that your dazai would come back.
Before he could say anything, you heard chuuya yell "oi!" and all of a sudden, your were in dazai's arms. His arm was wrapped around your waist tightly and you were pulled in his chest. Your heart was pounding when you looked up, noticing that every man standing in this room were pointing their gun at the man who was arguing with dazai. "d-dazai?" you called him turning your head back and a fearful gasp left your lips when you saw dazai gripping the sharp end of the knife with his bare hand. The knife that was inches away from touching you. You looked up at him, tears filling your eyes when you saw the blood dripping from his hand while the man holding the knife stumbled back with wide eyes "samu y-your hand-" he shushed you softly. Placing a hand on the back of your head, he pulled you in so that your face was hidden in his chest. Once he was sure that your vision was blocked, he kissed your head and mumbled the words that only you could hear "those pretty eyes were only made to look at beautiful things, angel. Not at these worthless and pathetic beings"
Because your vision was blocked, you couldn't see him flipping the knife around in his injured hand. But you heard the blood curdling scream that left that man's mouth when dazai raised his hand and stabbed straight above the man's heart. Your eyes widened and your hands trembled as you gripped his coat tightly at the same time another scream echoed the walls.
A cruel smile lifted dazai's lips as he twisted the knife in the man's flesh. His smile widening at the screams and cries of help. "you know" he mused digging the knife deeper "I would have loved to hear you talk, had you not made the mistake of thinking you could get away after trying to hurt my love" with that he pulled the knife out only to stab him again. A small whimper left your lips when you heard another scream. The one that caught your lover's attention even with all the screams and cries. It was as if your voice snapped him back from his deranged haze. He dropped the knife and looked at chuuya who nodded, ordering a few men to take away the body.
He rubbed the back of your head with his uninjured hand, mumbling "don't look back angel. I want you to only look at me. Do you understand?" your reply was a small nod as you slowly pulled back and looked up with teary eyes . His jaw clenched at the sight but he didn't said anything and wrapped an arm around your shoulder, walking towards the elevator. The whole way towards his office, you didn't say anything but your bottom lip trembled when your eyes caught the sight of his bloodied hand hanging by his side. Chuuya took a different elevator and followed you both at a distance as dazai guided you back to his office.
As you entered the room, you turned around and looked at chuuya, your voice coming out shaky "c-can I get a wet towel and a first aid kit please? " "right away" chuuya replied and you saw him speaking something in his ear piece just as the door fully closed. You didn't say anything as you took his good hand and guided him towards his desk but you felt his eyes on you the whole time. When a knock sounded, you rushed towards the door and opened it to find chuuya standing there with the things you asked for. Taking the kit and the small basket of wet towels from his hands, you whispered a small thank you and turned around not waiting for his reply.
Still chuuya nodded as the door fully closed, and he turned around, standing there on guard with his hands clasped behind him "no one is allowed to enter this floor until I say so" every guard in the hallway nodded before passing the order in their ear pieces.
You found dazai leaned against his desk, watching you silently as you stood in between his legs, holding his injured hand gingerly and started cleaning the blood off of it. He didn't as much as blink an eye but you felt your own getting teary when you saw the blood staining the whole towel. You exhaled shakily, treating the wound as gently as you could all the while avoiding his eyes.
He observed you silently. His sharp eyes not missing a single detail from your shaky hands to you avoiding looking at him. His looked away for a moment, his voice coming out eerily calm "are you scared of me?" your movements halted and you finally looked at him. Again, his face seemed calm but you didn't miss the subtle tense in his jaw and the many emotions swirling in his eyes. Holding his uninjured hand for a moment, you said "I'm not scared of you, Osamu" his gaze fell on you and he gently squeezed your hand "then why are you avoiding me?" he asked quietly and you looked down again, resuming yout work "i-i'm not'' you both know that was a lie.
Placing his pointer finger under your chin, he tilted your face up, mumbling "look at me angel" you were trying to avoid his eyes to stop yourself from crying. You didn't want to appear so weak in front of him but you couldn't help it. A single tear ran down your cheek and dazai pulled you to him swiftly, wrapping an arm around your shaking form "i-im sorry" you whimpered burying your face in his chest while dazai's brows furrowed "why are you apologizing? You've done nothing wrong sweetheart" he whispered, his hold around you tightening as he pressed multiple kisses on your head "y/n please don't cry" he buried his face in your hair, exhaling the sweet fragrance of your shampoo "y-you got hurt because of me" you pulled back slightly to look at him and wiped your tears, a smile almost pulling on your lips when you saw the visible confusion on his face "what do you mean I got hurt because of you?" his honey eyes stared in your own as he patiently waited for you to finish your sentence.
"well" you looked down "i-i feel like if I hadn't come in between, then you wouldn't have gotten hurt. It was silly of me. Chuuya and everyone else wouldn't have let you get hurt even if that man had tried to attack you. But because I came in between.." you trailed off fiddling with the buttons of his coat. He tched shaking his head with a small sigh and made you look at him "angel I didn't get hurt because of you. That shit head was thinking about swinging his little knife at me before you were there too" your eyes widened at his words "y-you knew he was thinking about hurting you?" a raspy chuckle left his lips as he nodded, taking your hand and pressing soft kisses on your fingers "of course I did" he mumbled "then why didn't you move away? O-or-" he cut you off with a small smile "because thinking and doing are two different things, doll. He was thinking about it. He wanted to do it but he couldn't. He didn't have the guts to stab the boss so he decided to be a fucking coward and tried to hurt you thinking he'd have a chance to escape" his eyes darkened at the last sentence and his arms wrapped around your form, pulling you in his deep embrace again.
You hugged him back, noticing all the tension leaving his body as he relaxed against you. His voice much more soft now "you didn't hurt me angel. You'll never hurt me. So stop worrying that pretty little head, you hear me?" you nodded pressing a soft kiss on his jaw "Samu?" he hummed nuzzling his face in your neck causing you to giggle softly as you placed one hand on his shoulder while the other stayed wrapped around him "what did that man do? Y-you looked angry when I got there" you asked hesitantly not knowing if he'll even answer it or not. He has told you many times before that the less you know, the safer you will be. But there are only rare times when dazai truly gets angry. So you couldn't help yourself but ask.
He sighed tiredly and pulled back a little to cup your face with one hand "we found out that there were a few spies in the mafia" your eyes widened at that "chuuya had managed to find every one of them expect one person" "you knew that man was the spy?" he nodded looking proud at how quick you catch on "I had my doubts but I didn't want to risk him running away so I stayed quiet until my doubts were cleared. When he saw me he got flustered and you know a flustered human will always make mistakes. He didn't have any chance of escaping so he started babbling nonsense" he didn't want to tell you that the nonsense he was speaking, included you. He was already planning on how to make him see hell on earth but you gave him a quick death by coming in between. He wasn't mad at you about it. If anything, it made him realise the difference between you and him once again. While he's out here killing people, you're saving them without even knowing. And a quick death wasn't known as a punishment in his books.
He noticed you've gone quiet again as you absentmindedly played with the locks of his hair "sweetheart" you looked at him questioningly, his hands a little desperate as he pulled you in "tell me I didn't scare you" you smiled softly cupping his face and leaned forward until your lips brushed against his "I'm not scared of you, Samu. You didn't scare me. I was just a little... I can't find the right word for it but I'm not scared of you" he looked at you quietly for a moment before exhaling and pulling you back in his arms "I love you" he mumbled kissing the side of your head and you smiled "I love you too samu"
After a few moments of him holding you, you turned around in his arms so that your back was pressed against his chest and his one arm was wrapped around your waist . He watched you silently as you gently cradled his bandaged hand close to your chest "does it hurt?" you whispered and he could only manage a small shake of his head as he felt his heart skipping a beat when you raised his hand to your lips and pressed a soft kiss on his knuckles.
He knows what you were feeling. The emotion you couldn't name and neither could he to be honest. He was damaged since the early age of 14 so blood and gore didn't have any effect on him. Catching and punishing spies wasn't any surprise either. But this was the first time you, his precious angel witnessed something like this. And he was mad at himself for every letting you see something like this. When he was walking you to his office, he was convinced that he had scared you. That you will start hating him after seeing the side of him that he desperately wanted to hide. That this morning was the last time he was able to see your sweet smile. So imagine how he must have felt when you still welcomed him with open arms. When you still kissed him and heard him and held him with that smile and gentle warmth.
As he saw you softly caressing his injured hand, he wondered how you can treat him with the same love and affection after witnessing his true side. Holding you again was another thing. He was terrified that he won't ever be able to see you and your warm smile again. It scared him more than he expected. And this was the first time his expectations had gone wrong but he was so glad they did went wrong. Because he fell for you all over again. He loved you a little more than yesterday and he held you just a little tighter as you kissed his cheek, asking if you both can go home now.
Home. He never thought he would have a place that he could call home but here he was, letting you decorate his lifeless penthouse with your yellow cushions and curtains and flower pots and what not.
Smiling softly, he nodded, holding you just for a second more before pressing a deep kiss on your lips.
"let's go home, sweetheart"
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hajimeseyo · 4 months
Text
“Tell me something about yourself that not many people know.”
“What's this?” he asks, voice laced with amusement.
“Just answer me, ‘tsuya.” you grumble, head lolling over the side of the bed you're currently spread out on, peering at his upside down figure. “I'm bored.”
Mitsuya hums thoughtfully, pen tapping against the table absentmindedly. Both your homeworks lay abandoned on his table, you having already given up a long time ago and pestering him to do the same, despite his best efforts to stay focused and finish them.
“I have a dragon tattoo on the side of my head.” he says casually.
“WHAT?????” you leap up from your spread-eagle position to gape at him properly. His lips curl into an impish grin at your reaction, the sight sending butterflies flying through your stomach. You swat them away in favour of focusing on the more pressing matter at hand. 
“Yeah.” His hand comes up to tap at the right side of his head. “Right here.”
You scramble off the bed, nearly tripping over yourself as you rush to his side. “Whaaat the fuck. You're the last person I'd expect to ever have a tattoo.” you say as you pull up your chair next to him, plopping down on it.
He huffs in amusement. “I am in a gang, y'know.” 
“I know, but you're like, more well behaved compared to them.” You pause, peering at his face suspiciously. “...right?”
A mischievous smile is all you get in response.
Rolling your eyes, you turn your attention back to the side of his head, peering closely at the short lilac hair, trying to catch a glimpse of the tattoo. You can't see anything, though, due to all the hair fully covering it.
“Can I…?” you raise your hand hesitantly. He nods, grabbing your wrist and bringing it to where the tattoo supposedly lies, the warm touch sending sparks flying through your skin.
Carefully, your fingers gently part his hair to reveal the scalp below. The slight shiver as your fingers make contact with his head doesn't go unnoticed by you, although none of you say a word.
And there, under the lilac strands, you catch glimpses of furling strands of black ink, coiling and curling into something resembling—
“A dragon?” you murmur.
Mitsuya hums. “Mhm. I designed it myself. Cool, huh?” You can hear the pride in his voice.
You snort, not wanting to give him the satisfaction. “I suppose.” Following the strands of ink, you trace down the side of his scalp, mesmerized by the intricate design. Despite your seemingly unimpressed response, you found the tattoo really beautiful, the art style unique and artistic, the way it curves along the side of Mitsuya's head so naturally you wouldn't be surprised if he said he was born with it. Lost in your concentration, you don't notice Mitsuya's slowly reddening cheeks, closing his eyes as his head subconsciously leans into your gentle touch.
The two of you stay like that for a while, in comfortable silence, him enjoying your ministrations, you too absorbed in admiring every detail of the tattoo to notice. 
Until you trace the final curl of the dragon's tail, the trail ending making you snap out of whatever trance you were in, face immediately flushing a deep red as you realized you probably spent way more time touching him than you should've. Your hand instantly jolts back from his head as if it touched hot iron. At the loss of your touch, Mitsuya's eyes slowly fluttered open, gazing lazily at you, the sight once again sending some weird, hot feeling shooting through you. Damn this man and his stupidly pretty face.
You clear your throat, trying to act natural. “Why have a tattoo when you can't even see it under all that hair, though?” 
That question catches him off guard, and he barks out a laugh. “There's a funny story behind it, actually.”
He goes on to tell you the story of how he got the tattoo, from meeting this boy called Draken, to playing games at the brothel, to deciding to become a delinquent and accidentally matching tattoos with Draken. Your jaw dropped more and more as the story progressed, mostly from how unexpected and wild the entire thing was.
“Damn.” you laugh when he finishes. “And here I thought you were this good, well-behaved child who got roped into the gang business by their friends. I mean, abandoning your sisters to graffiti a wall?” you shake your head in mock disapproval. “What a bad child you are.” 
His lips stretch into a sly grin, something dangerous glinting in his eyes. “Oh? Really, [name], you should've known by now.”
He leans forward until his lips are right by your ear, voice coming out in a teasing whisper.
“I can get quite naughty sometimes.” 
...
You're quite certain your face is in flames. 
You sit there, short-circuiting, as Mitsuya leans back into his chair, a self-satisfied smirk on his face. Fumbling, you glance around desperately from something that will save you, and your eyes land on the abandoned exercise books on the table, the whole reason you were at Mitsuya's house in the first place. 
“Oh! Would you look at that! Our homework! That we still have to finish!” You pull your chair back to the other side of the table hurriedly and bury your face in the books, your homework suddenly being the most interesting thing in the world. You hear him chuckle, but he doesn't say anything, picking up his pen and continuing with his work. Your heart finally stops racing, and you think that you're safe until—
“[name]?”
“Hm?”
“I enjoyed that very much. Feel free to do it again if you want~”
“...”
This boy is going to be the death of you.
(part 2 here!)
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angel-of-the-moons · 6 months
Text
Eccentricities
Yandere! Miguel x Fem!Reader
TW/CW: NSFW, Dark Themes, Dead Dove Do Not Eat, Yandere!Miguel is a warning on his own, spying, peeping, camera use, masturbation (m)
MINORS DNI I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR CONTENT YOU CONSUME
A/N: Enjoy my brain rot I now infect you all I'm so sorry it took me so long to finish
Taglist: @vineberries9 @irmiki @autismsupermusicalassassin @obi-mom-kenobi @rin-matsuoka345-blog @loosecan @6thhokageswife @selarus @heyohalie @sapphire-and-ruby @night-spectrum @famouscattale @thespaceinbetweennothing @lazy-idate @toshimoshiko @saharadesertaj @flaps200 @amelialysm @fried-milkfish @zaunsin
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Pt. 1
You weren't sure if it was your luck, or your resume that landed you probably the easiest, most well-paying job you've ever worked. But man, were you glad whatever did get it, got it for you.
Little did you know, it was neither.
The truth is... your boss, Miguel O'Hara, noticed when you emailed it to him. Something about the pictures attached stirred something up inside him.
Maybe it was the soft, Mona Lisa-like smile in your photos, or maybe it was something else entirely. He himself didn't know it, the reason why you immediately piqued his interest.
Sure, he's hired female employees before, one or two housekeepers. They were always buxom girls looking for the whole "boss having sex with his hot maid" cliché. One even tried to trick him with a false pregnancy test, just for him to call her out with a body scan right then and there.
And yeah... he almost always wound up fucking them. But that was it. They were good, warm holes to fuck, that was all. Fuck them until he got bored with them, and toss them out; that's what he would do.
Hell, some of them weren't even good fucks... He'd had better sex from random women he brought home from clubs.
Thank god for non-disclosure contracts.
But you... He had a feeling you would last longer than all of them. There was something about you.
And whatever it was, when he met you for the first time in person in that tiny café, was absolutely intoxicating. Your scent, your voice, the way your eyelashes batted your cheeks, even the shy shuffle of one foot behind the other as you spoke with him.
He could already imagine himself splitting you open with his cock, right then and there. Making you gasp, and scream and writhe and beg him to show some mercy at how he would pummel that sweet little cunt of yours; showing everyone there that you now belonged to him.
But patience is a virtue, and good things come to those who wait.
And Miguel O'Hara always got what he wanted, in the end.
It was just a matter of waiting.
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"I just have to say that, I... It's very generous of you to offer me a room to stay in, Mr O'Hara." You say as he leads you down the hall.
"I really can't thank you enough."
He sucked in an imperceptible breath at your little smile and twinkling eyes as you rocked your head back to look up at him and meet his red-brown ones.
He flashed a smile, charming. His teeth were crooked in some places, but for some reason it put you a bit at ease. Despite his sheer size, Miguel looked... Normal. Drop dead gorgeous "normal", but still. It made him... more relatable to know someone like him wouldn't immediately run to a dentist to fix his teeth to project an image of perfection. That he wouldn't give in to vain appearances.
"Of course. You don't have to thank me at all." He said, leading you down the hall of his impossibly large house--no, mansion--to where you would be living.
"All my previous maids have been given their own spaces to live in, it's easier on them so they don't have to worry about arriving late, or paying for taxis or finding their own ways to work." He replied casually.
"Oh, actually, I'm curious about that. I haven't seen other staff around here, why is that?" You chirp innocently.
"Ah, well..." He said, giving a strained smile. He had to think of something. Fast. He couldn't possibly tell you the real reasons why. Maybe.
Yet.
"They simply didn't work out. Many of them didn't follow direction well and were constantly challenging my authority."
You frown, your brows furrowed. "Okay, arguing with your boss sounds kind of... Dumb."
"Indeed." He chuckled, his voice a deep timbre that you swear sent shivers right through your very bones.
"And as for why you are currently my own employee? Well. I do like my privacy." He tells you.
God, the smell of your perfume and the way your lips sparkled from that lip gloss...
"Ahem. Technically, the only other person you'll be seeing is Lyla."
"Lyla?" You echoed.
"Yes. She's my... assistant. Artificial intelligence. Don't let her snark fool you, she's not so bad once you get to know her." He smirked.
He could hear your pulse quicken whenever he smiled.
"Oh! An AI? I've... I've never actually met one. Like a literal one, not the ones they program into taxis..."
"No, she's far more sophisticated than that. Expertly programmed by me, smart... And of course there's the sense of humor, I don't know where she got that... But she won't bother you often." He assured you.
"Oh! Of course..."
"Now, here's your room." He gave you a grin over his shoulder as he reached for the control panel of the double doors. He could hear your heart pitter patter already.
The doors opened with a dramatic whoosh, and Miguel stepped aside for you to walk in.
He felt a smug sense of pride at your shock of the huge room he'd given you for your own personal space, and how you'd murmured that it was larger than your whole apartment.
Luxuriously furnished, it looked more like some kind of... Of ten-star hotel room or something!
The way your eyes sparkled and your mouth parted in a soft, excited smile. Everything about you had his heightened senses on alert, but not in a bad way.
You looked so soft. So delicious. Something about you made him want to devour you, bit by tiny bit.
"Mr. O'Hara, I... Oh I can't thank you enough! This is..."
"I'll leave you to it." He chuckled, giving a wave as he walked past you back out into the hall.
Pausing in the doorway, he gave you one last look.
"And you can call me Miguel... Pequeña ave."
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He simply couldn't wait and had to violently suppress the urge to drop to all fours and leap like an animal to his office and check the well-hidden, practically invisible cameras he had planted in your room and bathroom.
The moment he entered his office, he locked the door and turned Lyla's access to the room off to leave him to his privacy in case she called him.
Miguel felt a buzzing beneath his skin at the thought of what you could possibly do once you've fallen into a sense of safety and privacy, especially since he'd given you permission to have a few days to become acclimated to your new environment before you had to start work.
He sat on his chair and immediately opened up the files on his monitor, selecting the camera feeds until holograms of you at various angles were projected for him to see.
He watched intently as you unpacked your clothes, placing them in the large ornate dresser.
He already made a mental note to hire movers to bring the rest of your meager belongings to his house.
Yes. Yes.
You would stay.
For as long as he wanted you. And right now he could see himself wanting you for a very, very long time.
The moment you flopped on the bed, your breasts jiggling so beautifully to him, the cute look of surprise as you sunk so deep into the downy mattress before settling in with a relaxed groan that sounded so pornographic to his ears it sent blood rushing straight to his dick.
He leaned back, running his tongue over his fangs as he continued to watch you unwind and unpack, careful not to prick the sensitive muscle on the sharp bone.
He watched you pull a small black box out of one of your suitcases and hastily move to hide it beneath your clothes in your dresser.
Bottom row, far left side, all the way to the back. He made a mental note to inspect that drawer later.
Miguel leaned in towards the projections and tapped the one of you nearest to your new closet as you slipped your blouse off and down your shoulders, revealing your back and the straps of your bra.
The leather creaked under his weight as he shifted, switching the angle to the one directly above the closet, facing down, getting a full downward view of your breasts.
He groaned and reached down to palm at his cock that throbbed in his trousers, stroking the clothed flesh in languid motions, vein beating relentlessly along the length.
He let out a guttural groan when you bent over, slipping your shoes off and placing them on the rack within the closet.
He switched angles as you bent over again and pulled your pants off, revealing your cute ass peeking out from the cotton, cherry-print panties you wore.
He ripped his trousers down to his thighs and fisted his cock in his large hand. He was disappointed you didn't notice he went without boxers today, or maybe you had but were too shy to look.
You were putting on quite the show.
Surely, you couldn't be this naive, right? So innocent? You couldn't just believe some rich man would let you, a cute, sexy little thing live in his house without planting cameras in your room and bathroom?
You must know. You must simply know, and that is why you are sashaying your hips this way and that as you dump your clothes into the laundry bin and grab the vinyl bag containing your hygiene products.
He used his thumb to smear the stream of precum leaking viscously from the head of his cock, groaning as he switched the feed to your bathroom cameras.
He watched you place your pads and tampons in one of the drawers of the vanity, organize your oral hygiene products next to the sink. He studied each bottle of vitamins you placed, his eyes picking up the words "prenatal" on one.
He dropped his head back with a groan and rolled his hips, languidly stroking his dick as his eyes rolled back.
Prenatals. You weren't pregnant, he'd be able to smell it if you were. But already the thought of fucking you full of his cum played in his mind.
His head snapped up when he heard the shower turn on and he frantically switched the feed to the shower cam.
He watched and listened as you hummed a little song to yourself, giggling at the rainfall-like streams that filled the stall.
The way your lips parted and you made that little "oooh" sound had him wondering how you'd sound when he fucked you so hard your eyes crossed.
He began to pump his fist harder, the rivulets of precum giving him ample lubrication to stroke himself.
He ran a hand through his hair as he panted, watching you as you slowly slip your bra off and toss it to the floor, along with your panties.
His hand smashed the control after to change the camera to one that had a better angle of you.
He made a sound that was almost a whimper as you closed the stall door, stepping under the steamy water with a happy and content sigh.
Miguel bit at his bottom lip, fangs threatening to prick the plush skin.
Everything about you was cute and sexy, even that cute little patch of hair between your legs, cut into the shape of a heart.
The thought of lasering that hair off and replacing it with a permanent tattoo of his spider symbol... His own little brand...
He moaned loudly into the dark of his office, feeling his balls draw taut as his orgasm got closer.
Your hands lathered in shampoo, you started scrubbing your hair, your flesh jiggling deliciously as you rinse it out, nails scratching at your scalp.
He wondered what you'd do if he pulled your hair, what sounds you'd make.
He wondered how you'd do if he pulled your hair and made you choke on his cock.
"Mierda!" He hissed, pinching the base of his cock in an effort to stave off his orgasm.
Miguel continued to watch, giving himself teasing strokes as you conditioned your hair right after.
His fist pumped harder and faster when you began soaping up your hands to scrub your skin, cupping your breasts and brushing over your hard nipples.
His breathing was so fast he was practically hyperventilating, the tip of his cock leaking more and more, the length of it throbbing and twitching as you washed the soap off.
When you slipped your hands between your legs to clean yourself there, all Miguel could do was moan pornographically, grabbing at his balls and stroking his cock as he arched his hips off his chair, his thick ropes of cum painting his fingers and dripping down to his palm, splattering a part of his leg and the underside of his desk.
He dropped down, sighing as the buzz of his orgasm slowly faded.
He cut the feed to your room.
And in the dark, bright, ruby-red eyes opened and a fanged smile bloomed.
He was going to enjoy making you his.
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Pt. 2: Link
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justatypicalwizard · 5 months
Text
A scrap from your book
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Bakugo x reader, aged up, college! au, quirks don't matter, no warnings, just heartwarming
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Roommate Bakugo who is forced to share a room with you for about three months due to unexpected construction works in the college apartment he occupied. The whole Bakusquad was moved to random rooms. To make it worse they were all shared ones. You agreed to take in a male occupant.
Roommate Bakugo who tries to spend as much time outside of the cramped college room as possible. He feels like he's kinda invading your privacy as well as just finding the whole situation uneasy.
Roommate Bakugo who has to complete a bunch of assignments but the library is packed in the late afternoon hours, the air thick with gossip, stress, sweat and annoyance. Bakugo finally wandered off to the dorm room to find some peace for his work.
Roommate Bakugo who spotts you always turn off your lamp and tune down the brightness on your laptop when he tells you he's going to sleep.
"You don't have to do that." He grunts, already wrapped up in heavy covers.
"I don't mind, you do the same." Because he does.
Roommate Bakugo who walks on you watching a film he loves. At first he just circles the small room mindlessly, more interested in the unwrapping dialogue between his two favourite characters than the laundry he's picking up.
"You wanna watch?" You ask, pausing the movie.
"No. I was going to do my laundry."
"I can wait, I can buy some snacks in the meantime, I was looking for an excuse to do it anyway."
So the two of you ended up finishing the film together, sitting on your bed.
Roommate Bakugo who talks to you more, geting used to the situation faster than he thought he would. You both sit by your desks working on the boring college stuff. He spotted you were trying hard, not slacking around and keeping most of your deadlines. Even if he didn't want to admitt it, he was impressed. Not that he didn't do the same, it's just rare to find a person who actually cares.
Roommate Bakugo who didn't know how to phrase a sentence. He was working on a piece of paper for the last two hours after an intense day of workout and his brain refused to cooperate anymore.
"Can I ask you for a favour?" Your face appeared from behind your laptop screen.
"Depends on what is it."
"I finished a short essay and I wanted to ask if you could read it and tell me if it makes sense."
Might as well take a break to refresh his mind. Bakugo read through the text and came to the conclusion that you were a good writer. A very good writer in fact.
"How would you say that in other words?" He asked after you were happy with your work, your laptop tossed aside as you lay on your bed scrolling through your phone.
You skipped to him, read through the sentence and gave him a paraphrase, one that he wouldn't think of himself.
"Thanks."
Roommate Bakugo who was eying you book collection for some time. You had a bunch. When he asked the two of you started talking and in went on and on and on. Finally, you stood up on your bed, the sheets dipping in where you stretched out to reach the highest shelve. Picking out a book you handed it to him.
"My favourite."
So he started to read it.
Roommate Bakugo who got a text from you that you wouldn't be back in the dorms for the night. After a shower he laid down in his bed, shirtless, with your book in hand. It was definitely worth it and he was way past the half already. Suddednly the doors opened only to reveal you, eying him up and down.
"The fuck you doing here?" Suddenly Bakugo felt a tad bit embarassed about his bare chest and lose sweatpants.
"My friend cancelled, sorry, you have someone over?" A small sly grin appeared on yoru lips.
"Jeez no, I'm just half naked."
"I don't mind." You shrugged, throwing your bag on the bed.
And what was that supposed to mean?
Nevermind. Bakugo wanted to get back to the story when he spotted something horrific. His hand gripped a nice chunk of the page, torn out of the book. He must have done it when you startled him with the grand entrance. It was readable as he only torn the cream white but it still looked nasty.
"Shit, I'm sorry." He didn't even look at you, opting on eying the damage, embarassement creaping up his cheeks for destroying someone's else belonging. One of yoru favourite belongings.
You came over, looked at the book and started to laugh.
"What's so fucking funny?" From embarassed Bakugo quickly merged into defensive.
"You look as if you killed my grandma. It's just a book." You saw that it didn't make him feel better, in fact the frown in his brows deepened. "I like my books being used. Lets treat it as a memory of you reading it. Give me the torn piece, please." Your hand reached out and he put the scrap into your open palm.
You skribbled something down on it using a pen fished out of your drawer. When you gave it back to him, the paper read 'Don't stress so much, dummy.'
"You can keep it." A smile brightened your face as you turned around to do other things.
Roommate Bakugo who would never admitt to anyone that he kept that scrap in the back of his phonecase at all times.
Roommate Bakugo who would never admitt to anyone that it took you roughly two months to steal his rock-like heart away.
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randomshyperson · 3 months
Text
One For The Road - Heart Shaped Series
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Chapter Summary: Wanda's first mission as an Avenger was also marked by the first time she met you.
Warnings: typical canon violence, fluff and Avengers working together but nothing major | Words: 2.501k
A/N-> This is an extra chapter (can be read separately and doesn't impact the current plot of the fic). It's just about delving a little deeper into what happened before the main story and I plan three of them in total (the other two will be their first kiss and their first time). Good reading!
General Masterlist | Wattpad | AO3 | Series Masterlist
-&-
Before.
They were there to observe. After all, what criminal in their right mind would let the Avengers attend an event where half the guests were wanted by Shield?
But even on the outside, and accompanied by Barton, Steve and Natasha who were basically the most protective members over her, Wanda was nervous.
It was her first official Avengers mission. Not only that, but she had what they called a perfect disguise consisting of an old American football team cap and sunglasses, and Wanda was having a hard time thinking that it would work. Maybe so, because she had only appeared a few times on television, and wasn't exactly the most popular Avenger among them. 
But there was also Captain America in all of his glory of an enchanted big body wearing the same outfit. So ignoring Steve's warning about keeping it on the down low, she was forced to use her skills when she noticed that the waitresses were whispering about him - One peek and Wanda could read their suspicion. The blonde among them was sure of who he was, but a little influence from the witch and that certainty vanished. She could go back to serving coffee without further doubts.
Steve could thank her later for that.
Wanda's first mission was simple. To observe, to provide support. It was more about seeing Steve in action than anything else. Learning how the more experienced ones acted or something. She knew that Clint was somewhere high up, perhaps in one of the buildings away from the main square. 
In any case, they were all surrounding the large Italian-style mansion on the edge of the island. And Tony in his iron armor was taking care of the offshore area, in case the targets escaped by water.
Everything was going well, and almost tedious to be honest, for hours on end. The gala party was happening loud and clear into the night, but Wanda and the others had the excuse of dinner time to stay at the tables in the cheap corner restaurant. 
"We have our first celebrity guest, Captain." Clint's warning over the communicator almost took her by surprise - but Wanda was paying attention to the mansion's large iron door, where she could see the movement in and out of the party. The equally bored security guards finally got something to do - Opening the door to the visually drunk man heading towards the limo waiting for him.
Steve left some cash on the table, standing up before the drunk man had even finished insulting the staff for taking so long to open the door for him. She knew the captain was heading towards the parked motorcycle to follow the car since that was the plan. But she noticed - felt - something different.
The target was an Italian mobster who had attracted Shield's attention by being quoted in a human experimentation scheme. All those involved in the Hydra project, which created people like her and Pietro, were being hunted down one by one. It was an Avengers-level operation because little was known about how far Hydra had managed to go. How many superhumans they manage to create? It wouldn't be smart to send ordinary agents who would probably be up against people as powerful as Wanda.
And well, there was another detail about the target; he had two daughters. According to the files, the girls didn't take part in their father's work. They just enjoyed the money from a crime like two foolish socialites.
Although the two figures were identical to the photographs in the files, something in Wanda clicked when she looked at what was supposed to be the mobster's youngest daughter.
"Steve, there's something wrong." She gasped into the communicator. The waiter looked surprised - he thought she was talking to him.
"Mi dispiace, signorina, cosa ha detto? (Excuse me, what did you say, miss?)" But Wanda muttered excuse me in a very bad accent and got up. At her warning, Steve hesitated and instead of going to the motorcycle, he stopped at the bar. 
The mobster didn't leave the scene either, confirming Wanda's suspicions that things were very wrong. 
From inside the mansion, two security guards ran out - they shouted that something had been stolen from the sale. And the gate was closed again.
The man, drunk and confused, was searched. The presence of a pearl necklace hidden in his jacket was enough for him to be dragged back by the thugs, who ignored the foaming protests of him and his eldest daughter, who ran inside after her father.
"What's the saying again, thief who steals thief...?" Clint joked over the communicator, clearly from wherever he was, he had witnessed the whole scene.
Although he laughed, Steve began to move forward. "Change of plans, guys. Let's break up the party." He announced, and it was no surprise that the positions of the remaining team members quickly began to reveal themselves.
Everyone left their hiding place to invade the party - Tony's armor was the first to act to hack open the iron gates. Most of the security corps surrendered on seeing the Avengers there, but there was still conflict. Steve just wanted to act quickly before the mobster they had come to capture was executed for stealing a pearl necklace.
And Wanda, well, she followed her instincts.
The mobster's daughter fled the scene - She was supposed to go after her father, but she snuck into the parking lot. Wanda had to run a little to avoid losing sight of her.
The confusion of the party invaded by the Avengers was loud enough to drown out her footsteps, and Wanda managed to hide behind some pillars when the figure reached a parked car. She thought she was about to discover that the mobster's daughter was actually more aware of her father's business than she let on when something much more shocking happened.
Before her eyes, Wanda watched the figure change completely. From the original appearance, only the coat and expensive dress remained.
A shapeshifter? What an incredible thing to witness, Wanda thought. She had only heard stories about Loki and had never seen anything other than Natasha's tools of disguise. This here was truly remarkable.
You hummed low, pulling out a closed suitcase from your coat. The Italian mafia symbol made Wanda understand the whole thing quickly - The necklace was just a distraction. The real theft was what you were carrying.
The coat was discarded on the pavement in the parking lot, but before you could stow it in the trunk, you froze. Wanda had half a second to hide behind the pillar, holding her breath and hoping you hadn't seen her.
Well, worst case scenario, she'd use magic on you.
She risked a peek, but you were no longer near the car. Gone, like the suitcase.
Wanda sighed in defeat, feeling pathetic. Her first mission would be marked with the escape of an enemy. How embarrassing.
But then she was suddenly grabbed and restrained. Wanda gasped in shock, imagining that it was one of the building's security guards. Her magic acted faster than the panic in her system - it went through her body and hit the attacker in the chest, who was thrown to the ground.
"Wow, how did you do that?" The voice that came out was definitely not that of a brute like the party security guards. Wanda turned around panting, ready for another attack, but you were sitting on the floor, back to your original appearance, looking at her as if you had just seen the most incredible creature in the world.
Wanda opened her mouth, but couldn't think of anything to say. She was sure she had been grabbed by a security guard, but then she understood: You had changed to look like one. But her magic forced you to return to your real appearance, and Wanda had to convince herself that the way her heart raced and her stomach did two flips was because of the fright, and nothing more.
Her lack of reaction didn't intimidate you. You tilted your head gently. "You're the new one."
You started to get up, Wanda swallowed dryly, taking another step away.  Her hands glowed as red as her eyes. "Stay back."
But you looked at her carefully, as if you were studying her. And you didn't seem afraid of your powers, even though a minute ago you'd been thrown to the ground for it.
"Oh, I remember you from television." You suddenly declare, a glint of recognition in your eyes. "The girl from the country who fell from the sky."
Wanda tried to steady her trembling hands. "I'll take you into custody. I know you stole something."
But you didn't pay any attention to the statement - You advanced against her and she backed away instinctively until Wanda was pressed to the pillar again. One hand against your stomach and the other on your shoulder, keeping you at a safe distance.
She could have just hit you with the magic, but she didn't. Just like you, she didn't attack.
"What... are you doing?" She gasped in a mixture of curiosity and fear, both hands controlling your distance were expelling her power. One of your hands moved up and grabbed her face gently - Wanda had to bite the inside of her cheek at the way her skin burned at your touch. Was it attraction she was feeling? No, it couldn't be. You were a complete stranger. She had to convince herself that this was fear.
You turned her face to one side and then the other, your eyes so focused that you seemed to be trying to memorize every aspect of her appearance.
"I've never met another one of us before." You say, and Wanda frowns in confusion. Your hand remains on her chin, and she swallows dryly before taking a chance:
"Us? Like... another Baron Strucker experiment?" She deduces, and you nod softly before letting go of her face.
You move your hand down and hold the one she has against your stomach. "It's so warm. What is it?" You ask tenderly about her magic. 
Wanda can feel her cheeks burning but she managed to stammer: "Hm... it’s a form of energy, I think." Jesus, Wanda pull yourself together. Well, who could really blame her for feeling out of place about the whole thing? She was literally on her first mission, being pinned against a pillar in the parking lot of a mafia party by some random thief, blushing under the worshipful gaze of that same shape-shifter while her team blew stuff up in the background. It was too much for anyone. 
She tries to gain a little control when she evades your touch, slipping to the side and putting distance between your bodies again. She also ignores how her hand is tingling, as if she was missing your touch from seconds ago.
"How did the Baron manage to give you energy?" You asked curiously but frowned in a worried way.
Wanda sighed. She really was having a conversation with a jewelry thief.
"It was a stone... um, a special kind. It may sound ridiculous, but it was a magic one. It came from outer space, the Avengers actually have a lot of work protecting them. And well, it now sits on the head of one of us and-"
But you suddenly moved - You lifted the hem of your dress just above your thigh, and pulled out a small, hidden pistol. Wanda's heart leaped to her throat. She barely had time to think about reacting, and you had already pulled the trigger.
There was still an arc of magic protecting her when she risked opening her eyes again. You were both out of breath, staring at each other before you lowered the gun.
The shot wasn't aimed at her, as Wanda realized the next second. But behind her, to one of the party guests who was trying to escape the Avengers by running into the parking lot. And well, catching one of them, off guard was quite an opportunity. The man now was writhing in pain on the ground, bleeding from the shot to the neck that you had hit him with. His own gun, loaded to shoot Wanda, rolled off his hand to the grass next to his body. 
Wanda should move. Criminal or not, trying to murder her or not, he needed help.
You raised an eyebrow at the magical protection disappearing around her. "You’re full of tricks aren’t, you?” You teased while hiding your gun again, now on your belt. “This was fun, Wanda Maximoff. Unfortunately, I must leave."
She shallows, knowing she really should move her feet. "You can't go... I have- I should arrest you."
You glance towards the man on the ground, practically unconscious now before looking at the girl again. "But he needs your help, and what kind of superhero doesn't help a bleeding victim?"
Her body reacts to your sarcastic words; she rushes to reach the assaulter and stop the bleeding. You don’t miss the opportunity to walk away to your motorcycle.
Wanda is too busy with the guest to notice you are escaping - Her magic do the hard part to patch up the bleeding and she’s stuck there with this man, at least for the necessary time for you to escape.
Wanda bites her tongue when she sees your motorcycle flee out the back exit, hoping none of her colleagues saw her letting you escape.
It doesn't even take five minutes for Natasha to find her, worried about where she was hiding during the shooting.
“What the hell happened here?” Asked the widow but as soon as she saw the gun on the floor, she assumed that Wanda was defending herself. She sighs before the witch can come up with an explanation. “Fuck, I’m just glad you’re okay, Maximoff. Pretty hardcore for your first mission, huh?” Nat jokes, and somehow, she manages a little chuckle from Wanda. The redhead gives her shoulder a soft tug. "Come on, witchy, i’ll take care of this one. Go find the others."
Natasha offered her a hand to help her up, but Wanda didn't want to take it. Her own were stained with blood.
"I think I'll go back to the quinjet." Said the brunette with a sour stomach. A lot had happened in a very short period of time. Natasha nodded quickly.
"Yeah, sure, go ahead." Said the widow, forcing a smile when she noticed the way the witch was shaking with adrenaline. "And Wanda. You did alright, okay? More than that, to be honest. You caught the hint that something was wrong very quickly. I’m proud of you.”
Wanda just nodded, taking the opposite path from all the confusion.  Completely unaware that a few kilometers away, at high speed, a shapeshifter left the motorcycle's handlebars to press against their own chest. Trying to understand why their heart was racing so much and the feeling of doing something wrong if the robbery had been a success.
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zombiekillerbiceps · 1 year
Text
Hide and Seek
Note: I saw Scream 6 last night and remembered I'm attracted to men who want to kill me, beware ye who enter here etc.
Contents: NSFW, 18+, 3k words, LeonxReader, knife kink, home invasion roleplay, cnc with enthusiastic consent, Dom!Leon, ambiguous era, masochist reader, very slight blood, bdsm, hair pulling, choking, rough sex, degradation, threats, crying, insults (bitch, slut, whore), glove kink, boot kink, primal kink (adjacent?), spoilers for Scream 2, no y/n.
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"Yeah okay, so basically she's the mom of one of the killers from the first film," you told him, grabbing another hand full of popcorn, "and what's really fun is their last name Loomis is a reference to the doctor in Halloween, anyways, their whole purpose as killers is to make a point about how people are violent by nature and not because of movies, and how people are more likely to kill because the media glorifies murderers."
"You really like these movies, huh?" Leon asked.
He was, admittedly, a little bit bored. Slasher flicks never did it for him. But what he had was an opportunity to cuddle up on the couch with you and watch you get passionate about something.
Passionate was definitely one way to describe it. The way your breath quickened during the chase scenes and the way your mouth hitched up into a smile whenever Ghostface caught a victim didn't go unnoticed by him. When Ghostface was taunting the victims over the phone, your eyelids got a little heavy, your face a little red.
"What's your favourite part about them?" He asked, watching for your reaction.
You take a long moment to ponder it. The way they act as a mirror to the cultural zeitgeist of the time, reflecting fears, values, and cinema of the era was up there. The kills were always legendary too, just really brutal. But if you were being honest with him?
"The chase," you admitted, your cheeks reddening just a bit.
You two finished out the movie, and because it was your turn for Movie Marathon Night, you put on Scream 3. Leon waited until the moment when Ghostface was stalking a victim through their home before leaning close to you.
"I could do that to you," he said, his voice a low roll.
Your breath hitched in your throat, surprised and immediately turned on at the rumble of his voice. You looked up at him.
"Yeah?"
"If you wanted me to."
You thought about it. Leon's heavy boots on the hardwood floor, his strength contested against yours, the glint of a blade against your throat...
"I definitely like the sound of that." You agreed, and then, sheepishly, "I like the knife too."
"I know," he said, and you burned in embarrassment.
It was a few weeks later that you were putting groceries away, the whole conversation (disappointingly) forgotten, when your phone rang.
Unknown Caller
Your eyebrows cinched together in confusion. Who could be calling you? You propped the fridge door open with your hip and answered the phone.
"Hello?" You ask, reaching over to the counter to grab the carton of eggs.
"Hello, sweetheart." The voice on the other end was deep, a little raspy.
"Leon?"
"Wouldn't you like to find out," Leon the Caller responded. "Do you want to play a game?"
"That's Jigsaw," you teased, excitement bubbling up in your stomach.
He didn't answer for a while. Long enough to make you double check the call wasn't dropped.
You pulled the phone back from your ear.
Still on. Full bars.
"Did I ruin the-"
"You didn't answer my question," he said, slowly, sharply.
You grin. "Okay, I'll play."
"Excellent. How about hide and seek?"
"What?"
"I'll give you ten seconds to find a place to hide, and then I'll come find you."
"Are you home right now?" You ask, straining your ears to hear anything in the house.
"Ten."
"What if I find you first?"
"Nine."
A prickle of fear slid up your back. His voice was sharp, serious. You'd never heard it like that before, and it made it so easy to believe that he wanted to hurt you.
You leave the kitchen, pace getting quicker as you scan for places to hide.
"Eight."
The coat closet was too small. The linen closet where you kept the board games too obvious.
"Seven."
Was he in the house? Do you lock the door to keep him out or does that just trap you?
"Six."
You start up the stairs at a creeping pace to keep quiet, thinking you could probably slip into the bathroom unnoticed if you were quiet enough. The stair creaked under your weight.
"Five. You'll have to be quicker than that, sweetheart." The taunting in his voice was unbearable. Smug, confident, and a fully loaded threat all at once.
A spurt of adrenaline. Your body is bolting up the stairs before you can think better of it.
"Come on," he groaned. "Too loud. You're making this too easy for me."
Your hands turn the bathroom knob and he chuckled over the phone.
"The bathroom? Really? A second-story dead end. You're smarter than this. Three."
"Shut up," you sputter out, pulling the door open defiantly.
He's standing there behind the opaque shower curtain. He tears it open, prying it off the bar entirely. He's wearing a tight black t-shirt and tactical cargo pants, tucked into military boots. You don't miss the knife holster on his shoulder, or the black gloves on his hands. His icy blue eyes meet yours and he feigns disappointment.
"Two," he says, over the phone and to your face. His voice is ice cold. He steps out of the shower slowly. Purposefully.
You expect the heavy boots to make some kind of noise, but he moves like a fucking ghost.
"One."
He drops the phone and charges.
You slam the door just before he meets it. His body slams into it and you feel the force shudder through the door and into you. You hear the doorframe crack. He didn't even have a lot of time to gain momentum, that was just his raw strength. Real adrenaline is floods your brain.
You turn tail and run faster than you've ever run before. The bathroom door swings open behind you. He's catching up with easy, effortless strides.
You make it to the bedroom and slam the door behind you. Your hands shaking as you go to turn the lock.
The doorknob moves under your hands. It won't lock if it's half turned. You struggle with it, fighting with both hands, your sweaty palms making it hard to get a grip.
You manage to wrestle it back just long enough to lock it.
Silence.
You back away from the door, your hands shaking. Your breath comes in quick, harsh breaths. Just when you start to relax, hard pounding at the door kicks you off again. Again. Again. Again again again again - he's going to break the fucking door down!
Silence.
You hear something metallic touch the doorknob. Something pops. It starts to turn.
You do the only think you can think of and dive underneath the bed.
The door swings open. You watch his boots, massive and impossibly fucking quiet cross the threshold.
"Sweetheaaart," he coos. "You don't think you can really hide from me, do you?"
You gently put your hand over your mouth and nose to muffle the sounds of your shaky, terrified breath.
You watch as he crosses over to your shared closet. He opens it. Then, with the unhurried confidence of someone who knows they'll get what they want eventually, he turns. One step, then another, he walks towards your hiding place.
His boots stop just shy of the bed. Just inches from your face. Impeccably polished, but undeniably beat up.
You hear the rustle of fabric. He tosses the blankets on to the ground, blocking your view.
This was bad.
You could just barely hear him cross over to the other side but, from the angle you were at under the bed, couldn't see it. For a painfully long moment, nothing happens. You debate bolting for the door.
A hand wraps around your ankle!
He begins to pull you out from under the bed, the leather of his gloves giving him grip against your bare skin.
"No!" You cry out, instinct taking over. You kick at him and he releases you.
You scurry out from under the bed, fighting against the blankets in your way. You hear him step up onto the bed as you come out from under it. You half- crawl, half- run towards your escape, looking back to see him jumping down, completely unbothered. Your legs are unsteady, everything in your body just trying to get away without really thinking about how.
You brace yourself against the door frame and use it to propel you forward.
His hands are on your shoulders, yanking you against him.
You struggle in vain, a massive arm wrapping around your waist. Your hands try to pry his grip off your hips but his gloved hands don't move. You try to find purchase on the ground but he lifts you until your toes can just barely touch.
He isn't even breathing hard, you realize.
This is easy for him.
"Let me go!" You are try to sound defiant but the high pitch of your voice betrays your fear.
"Let me go isn't our safe word," he says in your ear. You feel him relax against you a little, only just enough to hold you in place.
"Fuck you," you take advantage of his kindness and work your way out of his grasp. You dash for the stairs again but don't even make it a couple of steps before there's a sharp pain in your skull.
A gloved hand is gripping the hair at the base of your head. Electricity echoes through you. You whimper, body freezing up at the pain.
He's almost dragging you backwards. Your body hits another wall, hard enough to make your head spin.
Leon's hand is on your throat. His eyes are wild and dark, and you can tell by the way his gaze rakes over your body that he likes the chase just as much as you do.
His free hand reaches up to pull his knife from it's holster on his shoulder.
You forgot about that.
Your pulse roars in your ears, your body squirming against his grip on your neck. He tightens his grip. For a few seconds, everything becomes light and airy. Then he relaxes, and the oxygen floods back into your brain with a rush of endorphins.
"If you keep squirming like that, I'm going to really hurt you." Fuck, his voice so low and threatening... It genuinely scared you, and the fear just made him hotter.
Sharp, unforgiving features tower over you as he brings the knife point to your abdomen. He traces the hemline of your pants before tucking the curved blade under the hem of your shirt. He pressed in enough that the skin bends beneath the blade, threatening to slice open if you move.
"No," you whimper. "Please don't."
He pulls the knife away, eyes softening and meeting yours.
"No isn't our safe word," he says, but this time there is no mocking tone. His gaze is gentle, genuine, asking a question without asking it.
The fear settles in your brain as you meet his eyes. He would never hurt you if you didn't want him to, you trusted him with your life. The vulnerability is given willingly, as much as you act like it's being taken.
This makes you bold. You spit in his face, trying to turn your thrilled grin into a snarl and failing.
"Fuck. You."
Your spit runs down his cheek. His features harden. He looks like he could fucking kill you.
"You little bitch," he mutters through gritted teeth.
The knife is there against your skin again, a cold pinpoint threat. And then it's gliding up your body, tearing your shirt with it. He pushes the knife back into its holster and stares at you, exposed and cold.
Then he's wrestling you to the ground. You try to resist until your muscles ache with the effort. He does it easily anyways. If his combat training didn't tell him exactly how to manhandle you like a doll, he would still easily overpower you.
One hand pins you down by your back, while his other tears painfully at your denim shorts. You struggle against him, lifting your hips and "accidentally" making it easier for him to drag them off you.
"You're making it too easy for me," Leon taunts you. You try to get to your knees but he pushes you back down with a mocking tsk.
"Oh, look at this," he says. You feel the leather of his gloves pressed against your hole. He drags a finger down your slit, smearing the slick with ease. "Act like you don't want it, but this tells a different story."
Two fingers push into you. Hard. You're wet enough that it's easy for Leon to pump in and out of you, whimpers spilling from your lips. Usually, he would curl his fingers inside you, hitting the spot that made you white hot. But this time? Nothing. He pumps his fingers in and out of you almost intentionally avoiding making you feel good. He was just making a show of you. Playing with you like a toy. Taunting you with every wet push inside you.
Then his fingers are gone. He releases his hold on you to adjust his weight. You hear his zipper.
You wonder how far you can take this.
You drag yourself forward, actually managing to almost get to your knees this time. He lets out a noise of surprise before you feel two hands on your thigh, dragging your bare skin against the hardwood floor. You whimper in pain, and then he's on you again.
"Stop it. A bitch should know when she's been beat," his voice was heavy in your ear. He wrapped an arm around your neck, choking you and using your shoulders as leverage all at once.
You could feel his cock against your ass, so hard it must hurt. His free hand lines it up with your cunt, the tip just dipping into you. He groans with self restraint.
"Ready, sweetheart?"
"Please," you beg quietly, as if asking for it too loudly would break the scene.
He thrusts in one, smooth motion. His cock pushes into you, painfully stretching your cunt around him. His bicep flexes next to your face, using your body to pull himself deeper.
"Fuck, you're so wet for me." He buried his face into your shoulder, whimpering into the torn fabric of your t-shirt. "Such a little slut."
He sets the pace hard and fast at first. Your high builds quickly, legs shaking beneath him, biting into his arm hard enough to leave marks. The pain only makes him rougher with you, fucking into you hard and sharp.
"Such a fucking slut, you like when I take you like this?" You whimper a response, nodding against him. "Yeah you do. Fucking whore."
He adjust his position, fucking you faster. His breath is hard and heavy, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.
"Fuck, you take me so well. Fucking." His babbling became almost incoherent, a sting of curse words and praise and humiliation, but you didn't care. It was enough just hearing him talk to you, grunting words between thrusts and moans, pushing into you. Closer, closer.
"Fuck, you about to come for me baby?" He can feel you tighten around his cock. "Stop fighting it. Come on, come on me like the little bitch you are."
It's enough to send you over the edge, whimpering as you come so hard it almost fucking hurts. He rides it out with you, slowing but never stopping. You try to catch your breath.
"Fuck, Leon," you manage. "That was so good."
"Don't think I'm done with you yet," he mutters, driving his hips into you a little harder.
You cry out, body over stimulated, the adrenaline crash rendering you weak and shaky. He keeps a slow pace, but he pushes into you as deep as he can go, almost threatening to push through you.
"It's too much," you whine.
He laughs at you. Then you hear the knife unbuckle again. You're too exhausted to even pretend to fight back, the cold tip tracing your back.
It bites into your skin, sharp and painful. And then it drags up, the sensation like fire on you. It traces your ribs, up to your shoulders. You can feel a thin line of blood drawn from its tip in the round of your shoulder while Leon keeps fucking into you at that slow, tortuous pace. You're too sensitive, the pain too much. Tears start to collect in your eyes. Tension starts to build in your abdomen again.
Leon switches to the dull side but digs it in enough to make you whimper. He keeps fucking you slow, deep, coaxing you deeper and deeper with his sultry voice.
Your cunt starts to tighten around him again and even that hurts. You sniffle, fat tears rolling down your cheeks.
Leon works the dull side of the knife against your throat and that alone is enough to almost drive you over the edge. His body hot and heavy on top of you, both of you sweating and moaning.
"You still with me, sweetheart?" He asks, his voice shaking slightly.
"Mhm. Are you?"
"Ohh yeah," he confirms. He ducks his head closer to the other side of your neck, and you work a hand up into his hair, holding him close. You surprise him by pulling his hair, some part of you hoping it will get a rise out of him, but it doesn't. The same slow, deep pace. Pain danced with pleasure, arousal and discomfort tightening in your stomach, threatening to overcome you.
"Cry all you want baby," he groans in your ear, "it's just going to make me fuck you harder."
It's a promise. His hips snap into you harder, dragging out another climax so hard you're left breathless.
He doesn't stop. He doesn't even let you catch your breath this time. He's stopped talking now, his breath hard and fast in your ear. You try to tell him it hurts but you can only stutter pathetically beneath him.
He pulled himself into you, threat of the knife ever present against your throat. Your body felt like it was on fire.
"I can't, I can't, Leon-" you manage to plead, your body working up to another orgasm.
"I didn't fucking ask if you could," he groans in your ear.
That sends you over the edge again, crying out as your cunt clamped down around his cock. Your body shakes uncontrollably, tears fall down your cheeks as your breath comes in moaning sobs.
You can feel his cock spasm inside you, spreading you more with each pulse. His cum is so hot it feels like it could burn you, his hips fucking it deeper into you as he rides through his high. Eventually, he slows to a stop.
You lay there like that on your hallway floor for a moment, before Leon released the knife with a clatter and rolls off of you.
Still shaking, you curl up to him He wraps his arms around you and you feel undeniably safe. Of course you do, you couldn't do all that with just anyone.
"Got a little carried away there," he admitted with a soft laugh.
"Yeah, I think you liked it more than I did," you joked back with a shaking voice.
He peppers the top of your head with gentle kisses.
"Are you still doing okay?" He asks. You nod against him.
"Sore. Overwhelmed."
"Let's get you into a bath, then how about we watch some TV together?"
"Yeah," you agree, kissing him. "That sounds good."
1K notes · View notes
princesssmars · 7 months
Text
practical magick
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a stiles stilinski x witch!reader
plot : just when stiles thought he had gotten used to the dramatics of the supernatual, he happens across you performing magic in the forest. when you fail to wipe his memory, his thursday afternoon gets a whole lot weirder.
wc : 4.678
contains : sfw. kissing at the end. the picture for look inspo is fair-skinned but the reader's skin color is not described! reader has hair! google translated latin sorry 😞i like my men loserish and obsessed sorry.
a/n : yasss a little halloween special. rewatching teen wolf for the third time bc idfk. is it obvious i love witch!reader's yet.
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for the first time in over a decade, stiles stilinksi was bored out of his mind.
he had previously thought that given his adhd gave him a deep desire to be doing literally anything all the time that the word bored wouldn't enter his daily vocabulary until he died.
yet here he is, kicking his feet at the dead leaves on the ground as he searched for any hidden traces of wolfsbane. the only reasons this had even happened was because he had opened his big mouth too many times and was sent on a busy quest by deaton, to "make sure the surrounding areas were safe for werewolves."
just reminding himself of what led him here was enough to tick him off again. it wasn't like the past two years have been easy, being under the constant threat of werewolves, werewolf hunters, kanimas, etcetera etcetera. it was enough to stress out the most stable of adults, and stiles was the direct opposite of that, so of course he got nervous and started talking over people and pissing them off.
"stupid wolfsbane, stupid werewolves," he mumbles, kicking at more of the dead brown leaves on the forest floor, tearing a line of the familiar purple plant up from the ground and stuffing it into the brown sack in his other hand. once he was done it was likely it would either be tucked in jars in deaton's stash or burned. he wouldn't mind seeing the latter.
its another twenty moments of grumbling and scavenging before a sound in the distance stops him in his tracks. he stands still, making sure that he barely breathes before he relaxes, figuring his anger and memories are making him paranoid of the woods.
a minute later he wishes his mind was playing tricks on him, because he nears the noise again, but this this its louder.
"its closer," he thinks.
he barely even registers when his legs start running. he may have a bag full of wolfsbane, but there was no guarantee the threat was something the plant could harm. and he didn't feel like tempting fate today.
at this point he's slightly lost his direction, but when he passes the stunted redwood stump he and scott carved their names into during the fifth grade he starts to understand where he is, and as his heart beats in his hears he knows if he turns right here he'll come up onto the old willow tree-
in the span of ten seconds he smacks head on into a hard object, falling on his ass and gasping as the air is knocked from his lungs. he blinks quickly to try to rid of the black spots in his vision, and before he can comprehend it he's making eye contact with you.
he's slightly embarrassed that the first thought that races across his mind is how pretty you are. he knows he should be wary of you, but he can't help it. your hair is a rich (h/c), seeming to almost shine despite the sun being blocked by clouds. your skin is smooth and your eyes are gorgeous and big and still staring straight at him.
you both rush to stand up. he holds his hands out in a way that you would calm a wild animal, hoping it doesn't piss you off.
you continue to stare at him. which isn't helping calm down his racing pulse.
"uh, alright. look, i'm not gonna hurt you, alright? i'm just...looking for something..."
before he can finish his sentence, you raise your hands to cup the sides of his face. his words die in his mouth and he feels his cheeks warm up to the point he's surprised they haven't burned your palms. you look determined, and for a second he feels like he's gone to heaven
"convertere et perge quid agas. oblivisceris quid hic vidisti."
turn around and continue what you're doing. you will forget what you saw here.
his mouth opens and his brows scrunch in shock. he never thought those latin lessons he took online and with lydia would pay off, but he's really glad he did them now.
he considers doing what you said, just turning around and forgetting all about this encounter. but unfortunately his curiosity is getting the better of him, and if his suspicions are correct he needs to know more about you.
"i'm gonna guess you just tried to put a spell on me, right?"
your eyes widen so largely he's afraid they're going to pop out of your skull.
"i..i don't understand, that should have worked. are you a warlock? druid?"
"no, no. i'm just stiles." he tells. his guess that you were something supernatural is partially confirmed, since you know about druids and the whole tried to put a spell on him thing.
"well, stiles, unless you tell me why my spell didn't work on you i'm most likely going to have to kill you." you deadpan.
he thinks you're kidding so he eta out a strained laugh. you don't even twitch.
he wracks his brain for a good enough excuse that will save his life before his arm moves without command and thrusts the bag in your direction.
"well, i have a uh, a bag full of wolfsbane, if that matters at all. pretty sure it does since…yeah…wolfsbane”
yours eyes dart from him to the bag, most likely not trusting that their isn’t some insta-death powder that will pop out as soon as you open it, so he looses his thumbs grip and steps closer so you can see the purple herbs inside.
“hate to admit it but you’re right,” you sigh, pushing back some hair from your face. his eyes follow the movement before darting back to yours.“ that much wolfsbane would make most supernatural or magical doings wonky.”
"yes, yes! exactly. that makes sense. im sorry about that-"
"why would you even have that much wolfsbane anyway? are you a hunter?"
"what? no, no! im not, i swear to you im not a hunter. i can explain this, really i can." he nearly chokes on his words at the speed he speaks.
you stare at him for a few seconds more before crossing your arms over your chest, hopefully about to let him explain why he has a bag filled to the brim with a dangerous plant on a random afternoon.
when you start to walk directly past him into the forest he doesn’t think he’s ever been more confused.
"fine. you can explain it on the way back.”
he’s as still as a statue as he process your words. you just accused him of being a hunter and now you want him to follow you to whatever mysterious place your going? even for him this is weird, and he’s ten seconds from refusing-
“hurry up.”
he rushes to catch up behind you.
after around twenty minutes of stiles repeatedly asking where you were going followed by silence on your end, you finally reach a clearing in the woods filled by a large victorian-era house, fully black with large looming windows lit up by warm golden lighting coming from inside. there's a nearly fully glass sunroom/greenhouse on the right side, and he can see from here the varying flowers and plants that fill the room. he wants to ask how a house like this could be kept under wraps from the rest of the town, but then he remembers.
magic, duh.
you lead him through the threshold of the home and down a hallway until you arrive in what must be your living room, not giving him a chance to admire the room before you're pushing on his shoulders so he sits in a loveseat, taking your own seat across from him. your legs spread and you rest your elbows on your knees as you glare at him, causing him to shift in his seat.
"why are you carrying a bag full of wolfsbane?"
"my friend's boss, deaton. he asked me to pick up any wolfsbane in the woods to make it safer for them when they do the whole wolfing out thing."
"deaton's working with werewolves again? does he have a death wish?" your brow raises in confusion, he notes how the fingers on your right-hand scratch at the skin on your right.
"i'll be honest, you're kind of creeping me out."
"thank you. why is he doing it?"
"my friend, scott. he's a werewolf. and so are our friends erica and boyd. and derek and his weird uncle peter-"
"the fucking hale's are back? are you kidding?" a scoff leaves you and you get up out of your chair, starting to pace back and forth in front of his chair.
"yeah, it was this whole thing with peter being evil and killing his niece, and he turned scott but scott thought it was derek who turned him. it was a whole thing. not to mention how peter came back from the dead-"
you continue to walk around the room while occasionally pausing to pay attention as the boy details the events that have happened in the past year. despite you being a stranger it felt oddly cathartic to vent about everything that had happened to him. admitting to the countless times he felt scared out of his mind but had to stay strong lest his enemies take advantage of it.
"that's a lot for a normal human to go through in just a year with no prior knowledge of the supernatural. i'm surprised your brain didn't implode from the stress."
he blinks. "thanks. i guess."
"you're welcome. i'm going to make some tea. stay here," you say, moving from standing across from him to heading to a room near the side of the room, able to faintly see some dark counters and pots and herbs hanging from the ceiling, "not like you'd be able to leave anyway."
that's reassuring, stiles thinks to himself, bouncing his leg up and down where he sits. after a minute he figures you won’t kill him horrendously if hes looks around a bit, so he gets up and starts observing the countless pictures on the walls. some are old, like the people in them are wearing outfits from a few hundred years ago, while some are colored and recent. in most of the recent ones, you’re with three older women who look just as dark but ethereal as you do.
he continues looking at some pictures and hung-up trinkets when you come back into the room with two cups of tea, handing one with a smile to the wary boy with a halfhearted promise that it’s “totally not poisoned.”
“can i ask you a question?” he asks, sipping at his tea after he discovers it’s not poisoned and actually really good. he was never really fond of tea, always preferring coffee or energy drinks when he was in a low-energy period. he remembers his mom liked chamomile tea.
“you just did. but go ahead.”
“why would you let me in here? you could have just questioned me at the willow tree, you didn’t have to let me into your house. not that i don’t like your house. i like the whole victorian gothic vibe.”
you don’t answer for a solid minute, slowly drinking from your cup as you stare into the lite fireplace.
“witches pride ourselves on our knowledge. to be aware of our abilities and surroundings at all times to best stimulate our growth. and as much as i’d like to be this powerhouse who could take down any threat, i know i’m not. if you actually were powerful and i tried to take you on myself? who knows what would happen.”
“and i’m guessing that magical barrier around the house would protect you in case i really did try anything?” he gently asks, not wanting to talk too loudly to distract you from opening up to him.
“exactly. plus if you tried anything my aunts probably would have put a curse on you and your loved ones. something not too flashy to attract attention, but enough to cause great suffering.” he notices your soft sigh when you stop talking, almost like you’re disappointed you won’t get to see this suffering play out.
“plus it’s better to know where your talents excel,” you continue, setting your cup down on a skull patterned coaster on the coffee table in front of you. “i’ve always been better at using my magic to investigate my surroundings. helps to find materials or signs of psychos roaming around.”
something you two have in common. it makes his mouth quirk up.
“so, the werewolves and all the other things being back in town, that’s a problem for you and your aunts, right?”
“yup. if it was just werewolves it’d be normal for beacon hills, but kanimas and a whole pack of alphas? who knows how much that can disrupt the natural balance and what more they’ll bring.”
he thinks over his next words carefully. scott would likely be upset at first at him for trusting you, but he was also the nicest person stiles had ever met. if you could help them then it was worth the risk.
“then how about a trade. you help us with this alpha problem, and you get the experience you need to become a great and all powerful witch. pretty soon you'll be riding your broom to your heart's content."
you can’t help but scoff a laugh as you think it over. he starts to think you’re about to reject the offer as you stare him down before you get up and offer him a hand.
“you’ve got a deal.”
after shaking on it, you send the boy back with his bag of wolfsbane and a few more helpful weeds from your greenhouse, giving him a note to give to deaton so he won’t ask too many questions.
when he returns to the vets office he dumps the materials on the operating table, ignoring isaacs joke about how if he took any longer they’d all be alpha chow by now. he can tell deaton is concerned about where he got the vials of strange red and yellow herbs, but when he reads the note his eyes widen and he lets out a mix between a laugh and a sigh. scott asked insistently what was on the note but his boss refused to tell him what it said.
before he left to drive home, deaton pulled stiles to a corner and told him that he had been in close contact with one of your aunts before something happened a few years after the hale fire that caused them to go into hiding and cut contact with all supernaturals they had previously been helping, including him as the emissary of the hale family.
as he lay in bed that night staring up at his ceiling, all he could think about was you. you were a welcome distraction from the chaos of his current life, a pretty distraction at that. if not a bit scary. which he didn't mind all that much.
the both of you spent more time together in the following weeks. at first, it was just simple conversations by the willow tree talking about the werewolf situations and checking what materials deaton needed from your family. as time went on his curiosity got the best of him and he started to ask you more questions about your life.
"so hit me if this is stupid but did you have any family in salem? or can you like make a potion ina cauldron to see if I did because I could use that as massive bargaining power in fights with issac-ow! why'd you hit me?"
"you said i could."
"yeah but not so hard. jeez, ever thought of quitting this witch thing and trying boxing."
"never thought of it. maybe i should start now. with your face."
"really funny."
(your threats kind of reminded him of derek, but had less of an 'i'm about to rip your throat out and eat your esophagus vibe.' slightly.)
but as time went on it got deeper. as he told him more about himself you started to do the same, once even apologizing for "giving off psycho killer bitch vibes" and chalking it up to being so isolated from people for most of your life. he told you he didn't mind the vibes, assuring you he liked it maybe a little too excitedly.
he could really feel the shift when one day he came up to the willow tree and he saw you, standing with a frame photo in your hands and nearly on the brink of tears. he was so shocked at seeing you show such intense emotion he wasn't watching where he was going and stepped on a branch, alarming you as your head whipped to him like a deer in headlights.
"i...im sorry. i can leave if you want."
"no no, it's," you shook your head, looking down at the photo once again. "it's fine. it doesn't matter."
"well if it's enough to make you cry id say its world ending-"
"could you just shut up? for once in your life?"
it's quiet for a minute, the only sound in the air being the gentle breeze. even thought the comment stings stiles knows all too well you're just lashing out in anger and hurt.
"im sorry."
"don't apologize. i get it, i do." he moves closer until he's standing beside you, walking slowly so he doesn't make you lash out again.
he looks down at the photo and he gets it. its you, about six or seven with a bright smile on your face and standing with two people he can tell are your parents. he can see the resemblance. you have one of their smiles and hair color, the other's nose, and by their clothes, the same dark style.
"its been over ten years. since i lost them," you whisper, your voice sounding more weak than he's ever heard it. "itd be nice if I was staying with my aunts for some sabrina the teenage witch reason but no. i don't have a choice."
he gently puts a hand on your shoulder. "i get it, i do. i lost my mom. every day i remember things about her in things i do. it hurts but its better than forgetting."
you sniff and hes about to back up when you put your hand over his on your shoulder, gripping it tightly. it hurts a bit. he doesn't really care.
"its not fair."
"its not."
"...thank you."
"don't mention it."
you give him with the materials and he's about to leave when you stop him, your hand grasping his wrist. he wants to ask whats wrong but he stops. you're staring right at him, into his soul he thinks, and all he wants is to hold you and tell you any pain he's suffered the past few years is worth it because it led him to you, that even if you asked him to sacrifice himself on an alter for a spell that would make you happy for a minute he would do it-
"this bracelet. i want you to wear it and don't take it off no matter what, all right?"
hey, that works for him.
as soon as the bracelet was clasped around his wrist he felt different. like his nerves were tingling and his brain was warm. he felt like he was going to get the most powerful migraine in existence and reached to take it off when you took his hand again.
"please. just give it a minute."
and so he did.
only thirty seconds of dull pain later and he felt normal, if not better. like when you're a kid and have the best day of your life and return home to a good meal. a nice bath, and a great night's rest. he feels almost powerful.
"hey what is this thing? did you just give me powers? is this gonna make me your servant or something?"
"bye stiles."
he gives deaton the materials after telling scott where he was ignoring the weird look on his face before the boy goes back to examining an adorable beagle on the operating table.
deaton takes the bag and bottles with an appreciative smile, his eyebrows scrunching up when he notices the jewelry on stiles wrist.
"where'd you get that bracelet?"
"uhh, i found it. at a thrift shop. thought it looked cool. why?"
deaton clearly doesn't believe him but decides to entertain stiles anyway. "the band is a normal bracelet but the charms are what makes it special. they're pagan."
"could you explain them to me? just because you know."
the vet just shakes his head and laughs before pointing to each one.
"this one, the witchs knot. standard symbol for warding off evil. its mostly used as a protection charm."
stiles admires the charm, the metal silver with the symbol burned into it. it looks like a circle with a line roped in and out of four points of it.
"this, hecates wheel. a goddess of magic, as you probably already know. symbolizes the power of knowledge and life."
this charm is a bit heavier, the stone looking weathered with a scratched labyrinth engraved on it, a distinct 'x' in the middle of it.
"and this one is..." deaton starts before his words trail off. stiles looks at it. it looks like four combined circles, each with symbols inside them. the two across from each other on the side looking like two crescent moons, the one on the top holding a basic pentagram. but he doesn't recognize the one on the bottom-two perpendicular lines forming an 'x' with little swirly lines coming from the middle on the top and bottom.
"what? what does it mean? is it bad?"
"no, it's not bad at all, stiles. the crescents and pentagram are used in another basic protection spell. more protection for the user."
"and the one on the bottom?"
"well, i don't honestly know what it is. its most likely a personal sigil made by the person who made it. but by my guess, based on others I've seen before, it might mean whoever made it has a deep love and affection for whoever they gifted the bracelet to."
stiles thought he was keeping his cool, but scott made extra sure to remind him the following days and the dumbass look on his face when deaton explained the symbol to him.
he didnt know what to do. this had to mean you felt the same way he did about you, right? why else would you gift him a love sigil on a bracelet you insisted he wear? for a second he considered it was a love spell you tried to put on him, but he was feeling iffy about that. mostly about how he wouldn't care that much.
(he apparently admitted that in a sleepy haze when he was sleeping over at scotts, and he's never wanted to die more than when he woke up and realized issac of all people heard him.)
the next time he saw you he tried as hard as he could to act casual. you asked him about ten times if he was okay, and he eventually came up with a good enough 'just a slight stomach bug' lie and regretted it immensely when you invited him back to your house, telling him you'd been practicing making simple health remedies and you had the perfect thing to fix him.
the whole walk to your house he was on edge, his palms feeling sweaty for the first time in his life as he repeatedly wiped them off on his pants. just like the first meeting, you tell him to wait on the couch and he lets out a shaky breath when you leave into the kitchen.
what does he do? does he confess? does he need to? he was so scared that he was being too obvious and maybe that's why you put the sigil on the bracelet, to let him know you returned his affections. but what is he wasn't obvious? and he was basically telling you he only liked you because you liked him? what if-
"stop staring into space and drink this tea, dummy."
he laughs awkwardly and takes the ornate cup from your hand, sniffing the tea before he drinks it. it's sweet but savory, smelling like nutmeg and milk. he can see little flakes and leaves floating on the top. he takes a sip and hums at the taste.
"screw boxing, you should be a professional chef. i'm gonna need you to give me this recipe."
"yeah right. a witch never reveals her secrets." you scoff before sitting down next to him on the couch. you put your arm up on the back and rest your head on your wrist as you cross your legs, your foot brushing against his leg. he nearly spills the tea over his lap.
he can't help but admire you. he had given you a few magazines he'd gotten from stores and stuff to better show you how people were dressing these days, and while you'd hated most of it you took to some trends, wearing a pair of black ripped skinny jeans and a pair of combat boots. he tried to focus on the rips in your jeans as to not let his eyes wander up, where you were wearing a leather halter camisole with nothing underneath. he can't help but laugh in his head when he thinks of the word camisole. maybe he was spending too much time around lydia.
"stiles? seriously are you possessed or something? normally you'd be talking my ear off trying to guess exactly what ingredients i used for the tea."
he sets the cup down after taking another long sip and turns his body to you, your eyebrows raising in what he can tell is amusement. most people could easily get annoyed by his theatrics, but after your near trauma bonding at the willow tree, you had always made sure to welcome them with a smile.
"look, i have something to say. which you probably already know, but i need to say it to you anyway to make sure you really know, y'know?"
you blink. "go ahead."
he breathes in and out a few times, his previous confidence suddenly disappearing.
"let me guess, you saw the sigil and now you're going to confess your love to me?"
he goes into a near coughing fit.
"how, well thanks because now i dont have to actually say it, but if you had given me a minute-"
before he knows it you're scooting closer, your faces just a few inches apart. you're staring at him with that same look you had when you gave him the bracelet. his breath is picking up and he bites his bottom lip, your eyes darting to the motion.
"can i kiss you?"
"yes, god yes-"
your hand grips his chin and brings his lips to yours, the intensity and plushness of it nearly driving him insane. he doesn't really know what to do with his hands, settling to just keep them on his lap before your other hand brings them to your waist and squeezes them in place. at this point you're nearly on his lap and that combined with the kiss and the fact he swears he just felt your tongue poke his lip is going to be the death of him.
he pulls away from the kiss and kneads his hands on your hips, able to feel the softness of your skin on the places where the camisole lifts up.
"wow. i mean just...arent you a recluse? where'd you learn to kiss like that? have you like, conjured up clones to practice with or something."
"stiles?"
"yeah?"
"shut up and kiss me again."
"whatever you say, babe."
for the first time in his life, stiles stilinksi thinks everything is gonna work out.
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ty for reading! had to tell myself to get up off my ass and write at 3am and wrote about half of this so sorry for any dialogue inconsistencies. love you bye bye.
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