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#out of tags but yeah i hate them and something needs to be done about the district
heiznx · 1 day
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BLISSFUL IGNORANCE
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∗༝*◦✦ song and dance competition with neige leblanche.
BEFORE READING, this contains light swearing, implication of unrequited love, manipulation, slight yandere behavior, book 5 spoilers, and all that goes along with it.
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“Neige broke the school rules for what?”
It was a rumor that spread around Royal Sword Academy, merely a few days before the cultural fair known as Song and Dance Competition where Neige and the seven dwarves would be participating in.
Neige, the overly kind actor, suddenly—according to the rumors—rebelled against the rules of the academy by using a broom during practice for the cultural fair to fly outside the academy to save Night Raven College’s students.
It was not unusual for him to break the school rules since there were incidents where he would help other students and unknowingly go against the rules for them; he would apologize and everything would be in the past.
“I heard they had the fight on camera,” a student whispered, referring to a floating camera paparazzis set up to capture any little information about the artist. “But it was deleted world-wide…”
“Dear merciful seven, Ortho, thank you so much!” you exclaimed as you felt your heart stop racing, your face going near the floating screen, seeing the complete progress of deletion of a certain video. “I was about to start crying.”
“Yeah, Vil drilled on us for a long time…” Deuce responded and Epel nodded beside you. “We owe you one, Ortho.”
“You did promise to help my brother grind on his account so he can focus on preparing for his presentation,” the humanoid said, pointing at you, who nodded profusely with gratitude. “Brother said he’d even hack into the gadgets of those who still have the video if you do well.”
Epel had gotten extremely upset at one point that he left the scene, while he was walking, Deuce borrowed a blastcycle from an Ignihyde student and picked up Epel to drive him somewhere, and out of concern, you tagged along.
Who was supposed to know that there would be thugs there? Your instinct was to call someone close and famous—Neige LeBlanche—but you didn’t also know that he was popular to the point of being stalked whenever he’s outside the campus’ protection.
“You got the most earful, prefect,” Deuce sighed. “Who knew he would ask you on a date after that and it was caught on camera?”
“He just wanted to have a few hours of my time after the competition, it’s not a date,” you said, acting like you did not spend the hours overthinking what he wanted from you. “Perhaps a tour at the academy.”
Epel grimaced, “He’ll only be coming over at Night Raven College once, he doesn’t need to be toured around.”
“And you didn’t really owe him anything,” Deuce said. “I think I developed my unique magic and I planned on using it, if he didn’t arrive, I would’ve knocked ‘em out so we can escape still!”
“I’m a third year and I was the most useless of all,” you muttered, groaning internally as Ortho moved to pat your back gently, but the coldness of the materials used on his palm seeped through your clothes and it made you uncomfortable. “Thanks, Ortho…”
“Still, I think Vil-san is grateful that you didn’t let us act… violent,” Epel said even though he hated the thought of not being able to do anything during that situation and let Deuce take almost everything.
“Yo! Break time’s done, Vil’s calling everyone to go back to practice.”
“Oh, thank you again, Ortho. I’ll come by your dorm after practice so I can start grinding.”
“Nice to meet you and bye, Ortho!”
“Is something wrong, Rook?”
“I wish I was you.”
“What?”
“Moi?”
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On the day of the fair, you had to stop your racing heart and mind from trying to distract you from what the fair artist would want to give you, because you had to put your focus on Trey and Riddle was trying to explain to you.
Riddle had you pause for a moment since you commented that you liked the way his tie was tied, prompting him to attempt to do it on your collar and you felt a little happy—happily distracted from what Neige wanted to ask from you.
“We’ve got a lot of visitors from Royal Sword Academy this year,” Trey said and you nodded, your chin hitting Riddle’s hand, prompting him to destroy the ribbon he was making and you sent an apologetic gaze.
“I’ll try to look around too, I’ll try selling my ticket—”
“The others would be sad to know that ‘ya weren't there, ya’know?”
“I’ve been with you all for two months,” you said in your defense, but a part of you was curious about the contestants. “The campus is filled with hot headed students, had it not been for Leona, I would’ve gotten bullied for the nth time, and most students actually dislike Royal Sword—”
— W H A M !
“Hey, punk. You’ve got snot all over my uniform. You’re not even gonna apologize?”
“I said I was sorry… Achoo!”
“Ewww! He sent more snot flyin’ our way!”
“By accent, you’d know it’s a NRC student,” you mumbled as RIddle stopped trying to tie your tie since he had to check on the incident. “Oh… Is that…?”
“Snick! Here, blow your nose.”
“Dominic!” you called as Riddle released you so you can head over to the dwarves. “How are you all here—”
“[name]-san,” the short gray-haired dwarf said, looking surprised, but he had to look away to apologize to the Night Raven College students Snicked bumped into. “I’m sorry about that. I’ll pay the cleaning bill for your uniforms.”
“You bet you will,” A student said and then at you. “Would ‘ya look at here—”
“Yes?” Riddle steps in, looking a little irked at the possibility of physical altercations happening on the campus on the very first day of the fair. “The culture fair has barely opened its doors, and picking fights is not a choice here.”
“Tsk.”
“How basic…” you muttered as you watched the students walk away upon being busted by the prefect of Heartslabyul. “Your reputation really goes around, Riddle… but are you guys okay, Dominic?”
“Thanks for the help,” Dominic says as he smiles at you, Grim, and the Heartslabyul students beside you. “As you can see…”
“Yeah, whatever, I coulda taken those guys with or without your help,” a pinkish haired dwarf grumbled, looking and most likely feeling ungrateful.
“Grum! Must you do this every time?” Dominic asked, his tone a little scolding as you felt a little uncomfortable with the slight bratty attitude from Grum. “Neige won’t be happy to hear you’re talking like that to [name]-san.”
“[name]—” Grum stuttered as you blinked, confused.
“Oh…!” Snick said, his voice sounding a little muffled.
“By the way, why are you all here?” you asked as Trey watched from behind. “This is far from the purple stage… or the lockers for the people involved in the competition.”
“Oh, yes, have you seen four other dwarves?” Dominic asked and Riddle shaked his head.
“I’m afraid not, would you like me to have the broadcast club page them?”
“I can help look,” you volunteered just before you felt a presence by your head that caused shivers up your spine.
“Oh, how ameowzing, to meet the talk of Royal Sword Academy~”
Grim purred quite loudly before exclaiming, “A floating severed head!”
“Che’nya…” you muttered as a hand went up to your forehead.
“Che’nya!?” the Heartslabyul prefect and vice exclaimed.
“Heh heh heh, is he a human? Is he a cat? He’s a mysterious and magical fellow,” the half-cat creature said with a grin. “Artemiy Artemiyevich Pinker! Thaaat’s me!”
“Artemiy, have you seen the rest of the dwarves?” you asked before you remembered his words. “What do you mean I’m the talk of your school?”
“Surely you’ve known,” Dominic says, wanting to explain, but his friends were missing. “Long story short, the video. Che’nya could explain.”
“Oh no…” you muttered, wanting to hide your face from the world and you looked down to do just that, but you noticed your disarrayed tie. “Oh, Riddle, could you…?”
Your focus flew quickly as Chenya said, “If you’re on the purrowl for your friends, I saw ‘em go that way and around the corner.”
“Thanks a bunch, if you’ll excuse us, [name] and NIght Raven College students,” Dominic said as you waved, smiling as Riddle moved to fix your tie, and Dominic’s smile fell a little, so did the other dwarves.
“Is something wrong?” you muttered.
“See ya around!” Aritemy bid the dwarves on their way. “Furtionately, the video was taken down.”
“Nice to see you, Che’nya,” Riddle says, pausing on your tie first. “I appreciate you reaching out to me, and I apologize for neglecting to get back to you.”
“About the video…?” Trey asked.
“As Aritemy said, fortunately, I had it taken down by Ortho,” you said as Riddle finished up quickly on your tie and you paused, getting a little distracted. “Oh, I’m coquette.”
You didn’t mean it seriously. Che’nya continued, “Y’know NRC students got in a fight near our school? They were recorded and Neige dropped by to save them and it ended with Neige asking [name] on a da—”
“It was a misunderstanding,” you cut in before you felt like you were rude for doing so. “I’m sorry Aritemy, I don’t mean to be rude, but everyone—this is just justification at this point—but everyone has been calling it a date.”
“A date?” Trey asked as Riddle’s eyes only widened a little. “But you said the video was taken down? For your privacy, [name], that’s good news. And for us, mind if we catch up later instead?”
“Certainly! I’ll get outta your hair!”
“And Che’nya, don’t use your signature spell to spook any other visitors, okay?”
“No promises~”
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“[name] doesn’t really stick out,” Grum muttered as he walked with the others to the dressing room, his hand being held by another dwarf to avoid getting lost. “They seem bland for Neige.”
“You met…?” a cheerful dwarf asked, eyes gleaming. “Oh! I wish I hadn’t gotten lost!”
“Grum, had it not been for [name]-san, we would’ve engaged in a fight,” Dominic said as he led the group of dwarves to the dressing room. “What Neige saw in [name]-san is not our business, and [name]-san is incredibly nice.”
“You saw [name]?”
“Oh, Neige!” Snick chimed before looking away to sneeze again, prompting Dominic to sigh and hand him a handkerchief. “They helped us earlier!”
“Do you remember where they were?” Neige asked, helping Snick wipe his nose but promptly pulled away to look outside the dressing room for [name]’s presence. “I…”
A dark feeling washed over him; it felt unfair for them to be able to see you first before he did when he arrived first to the dressing room, expecting you to be near Night Raven College’s side on the team.
It felt so unfair. He was the one who missed you the most, he thought. His rosy lips pressed on each other softly then he’d bite on a tiny part of his bottom lip as he looked for you outside the stage.
“Neige?” Dominic asked, concerned over his friend’s well-being.
Neige had been over the moon ever since he ‘saved’ you from those thugs even if you were with other people; he was a fan to the flames of rumors about him asking you on a date because he liked the thought of it.
The dwarves, but Dominic and Grum, were extremely supportive about it too. 
There’s a few Night Raven College students nearby and they were talking, some of them looked happy to receive the attention of the reporters and some of them are getting nervous about it.
There’s a ginger who was a little nervous yet tried to make a rational decision, and the main of the team, Vil Schoeheit—Neige hasn’t met him in a while—but that must be your team, he could find you through them.
“[name]!” Neige chimed.
“Where!?”
The dwarves, but Dominic and Grum, were insanely curious.
“Neige…” the actor said as Neige cuts in the middle of the talk of their team with a smile and wave towards the members, but ultimately going to you.
“Oh, Neige,” you smiled politely, but you were not comfortable with him walking up to you and focusing on you, especially after that one viral video. “It’s nice to see you.”
“It’s been forever!” he smiled, more than you did, without a care in the world, unlike you. “I should’ve told you to wait for me in the gate, you haven’t been responding to me, you promised me your time—”
“So that’s Neige LeBlanche…” Ace muttered. “No wonder he’s a household name, even the way he walks and talks is perfectly choreographed.”
“He’s not giving off the intense aura Vil has…” Kalim whispers.
“His smile is entirely unlike Vil’s. It is unaffected, like a tiny flower blooming—it’s different! Oui! The cameras better take this in all angles! And first-name basis!?”
“Hmph, the more innocuous someone looks, the worse they’re likely to act behind the scenes,” Jamil huffs, crossing his arms. “That’s how entertainers are.”
“Do you have any room to talk there?” Grim whispered before he frowned when Neige took your hand. “I don’t like this! Why is he all up on [name]!?”
“Oooh, I mean ‘ya can’t expect Grim to know, he doesn’t really have a phone,” Epel says, sighing. “Or [name] limits you to screentime?”
“—I missed you!” Neige exclaims after the long speech about what he should’ve said and done so you and him would meet sooner. “While we’re here we should have others take our picture—”
“Excuse me, Night Raven College entrants! It’s time for your rehearsal. Please stand by!”
“I really… really appreciate your words, Neige,” you whisper, not wanting anyone to know what you were telling him. “It’s quite hard to miss you when you occupy my mind a lot, you know?”
You wanted to let him down a little, and not tell him he occupied most of your time during practice due to his constant texts, that you couldn’t say to tone it down, and as for your lack of responses, it was because you put it on silent mode for Riddle and Trey.
Neige froze and your arm flinched ever so slightly when his grip on your hand tightened. He stuttered, “Me—me too! To you…!”
“If you’ll excuse our manager, Neige,” Vil cuts in and places a hand on your shoulder, gently. “We need them for the rehearsal.”
“Oh, right, sorry, Neige,” you say, embarrassed since you took a bit too long in trying to shoo Neige away for the rehearsal. “Perhaps later.”
“Later—okay!” the artist accepted it so quickly and he nodded. “I’m looking forward to your performance!”
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The first years were confident, but you, Vil, and possibly Rook would know that the team had been outplayed by the performance of Royal Sword Academy, whose performance was not in synchronized. 
It was a different type of charisma, and you didn’t wish that Neige would lose but you didn’t want your team to lose either, especially not when Vil’s sanity thread was thinning.
“Vil…?” you whispered as you walked with the model, trying to catch up, but scared to hold his arm. “Vil.”
It’s not that you and him were strangers, it was just that his vibe felt different—unapproachable—and you wanted to know why without further triggering the seemingly trance he was in.
Vil paused in front of someone’s dressing room, but turned to you, who was confused. To him, he was confused about you, he discreetly confided in you, and he knew you picked up on the depth of his dislike towards Neige but you still got involved with him.
“You should go back,” he said, a bottle of juice in his hand and you couldn’t shake the feeling of something being wrong with the bottle he was holding.
“Of course, but…” you said, trying to make up with an excuse on the spot without telling Vil straight up that you felt like you currently couldn’t trust him to be alone. “Neige was kind of… calling me over.”
It was a lie. Neige did want to talk to you, but there’s no specified date and time. 
Your heart pounded as Vil right now felt dangerous for you, every bit of him felt off for you, and it wasn’t the same as when you found him intimidating when you two first met and started talking.
“I see, so you’re with Neige too,” the actor muttered and now you tried to get close, but the door to the dressing room opened on its own and you paused.
“Oh, Vi,” Neige’s head peeked out of the door, his gaze going to Vil and then to you, his eyes brightened visibly, much to Vil’s dismay. “Oh! [name]-san…! It’s good to see you again—do you want to come in?”
“Ah…” you muttered and you smiled a little, albeit awkwardly as you glanced at Vil to check and then at the ominous bottle. “Of cour—”
“We didn’t get much of a chance to talk before rehearsals,” Vil cuts in and you swore you saw Neige flinch back a little when the actor covered your frame. “I was hoping we might chat a bit more.”
“Oh, of course,” Neige said as he stepped out of the dressing room. “I was thinking the same thing, why don’t you two come in—”
“Vil, the rest might be looking for us,” you said, hoping to convince Vil to drop what he might be planning as you gently pinched his sleeve, not wanting to cause a fold. “Even if there’s time—”
As soon as you touched Vil’s sleeve, Neige’s hand clasped around your wrist, and he didn’t seem to mind, he just smiled at you, adding up to your burdens since you felt like something was awfully wrong and Neige wasn’t helping.
“It’s okay! You can stay,” Neige said, trying to convince you and Vil, but mostly Vil since you seem to be following the actor around. “Dominic and the others aren’t around, they can’t really sit still so they’re at the booths. We have a lot of time to talk and I… I have something for you.”
You did not know what to say, because you needed to get Vil away from Neige as soon as you could, not only for Neige’s safety, but also for Vil; you can’t wreck your brain how else you could take Vil away when Neige was clinging.
It was not that you didn’t appreciate that the artist was so open to your presence and would always make you feel welcomed, but the situation was quite dire and having Vil approach Neige right after their performance felt so wrong.
“Speaking of something, I have something for you, Neige,” Vil says, holding you by the other arm causing you to look at Vil with concern. “I brought you some apple juice. I’ve been quite taken with this brand recently.”
“Oh! The one you posted about in Magicam!” Neige says, but his eyes were quick to look at the bottle since his eyes immediately went down on Vil’s hand on your arm. “I’ve been waiting to try it… thank you.”
“I—I’ll hold it,” you cut in but you can’t take the bottle when Neige’s hand is tightly on your arm and Vil has the other. “Since Neige and I will talk anyways…”
You looked over at Neige, hoping he would catch on your words and take you away; the glint in his eyes told you he did and the way he moved to wrap his hands on your arm seemed like he was going to take you away.
You were so wrong. He took the bottle and said, “Ah! Yes, we’re going to talk! Are you thirsty, [name]? Do you mind if we share the drink?”
All that was on Neige’s mind was an indirect kiss that happened in movies that he starred in, long filmings that he was in, and he was not the main character of those movies, but he watched people do it.
He watched people get giddy over it and didn’t understand it until now. He wanted to have your lips on his even if it comes from items, even better if it came directly from the source: you.
Your face nearly displayed a horrified expression upon his words, because his words meant you’d have to drink it first and the drink was the item you were most suspicious about.
“I…” you gulped.
You didn’t want Vil to find out you might’ve caught up to what he might be doing, and you didn’t want Neige to know what Vil was doing, because as far as you know they both knew each other and Neige genuinely liked Vil.
This was what you get for looking at both sides. You became the sacrifice and you didn’t know if you minded or not, because you cared less about what happened to you, more on the consequences.
“Should I drink first?” Neige asked. “But I…”
To Neige’s point of view, if he drinks first, you might avoid the place where he drank at and he would miss the opportunity to drink again if you chug the entire drink, he’s not sure if you would or wouldn’t, but he didn’t want to miss the chance.
You took too long and Vil might get suspicious. You grabbed the uncapped drink, much to Vil’s surprise that he released your hand as you said, “No, it’s okay, I can take it first…”
When you saw Vil surprised, it was the validation you needed that your instincts were correct and that something was wrong.
There were small traces of mist coming out; if it were a cold drink, you’d assume it was from the coldness, but the drink was quite lukewarm.
You’ve witnessed Vil’s unique magic, you learned that he can put any rules or conditions that he can’t even reverse, and you weren’t sure what the condition of the drink was, but there you were, placing the rim on your bottom lip.
“Henchman!”
Grim suddenly jumped on your arm and caused the bottle to fall down because you didn’t want to drink it in the first place, and at the same time, you see Rook and Kalim on their way.
You held Grim properly in your arms before you grabbed Neige by the arm, wrapping your arm over his and then you led him away so he wouldn’t see the drink bubbling on the ground.
Your heart was at your ears, you can’t let Neige find out about Vil, because if it goes public, Vil’s reputation would die—you felt incredibly stressed and Grim was stimulating you more by shoving his paws on your chin and asking what was going on.
It was such a huge difference compared to Neige, who happily clung to your arm with his head on your shoulders, speechless by how you apparently ‘whisked’ him away like that, and you only snapped out of your trance when Jamil waved you over.
“Excuse me, you’re Neige LeBlanche, yes?” Jamil asked and Neige was even hesitant to open his eyes to look at him because he was comfortable on your shoulder. “I’m such a huge fan! I can’t believe I met you in person—and [name]... is this your… lover?”
Your jaw dropped at Jamil’s words as Grim exclaimed, “MYAH—”
“Oh! It’s not like that, but I appreciate your—”
Neige only wanted to look Jamil in the eyes in order to memorize his features since he was a Night Raven College student and seemingly your friend, but he was easily hypnotized by Jamil and you rubbed your forehead.
“Thanks for the save,” you whispered. “I’ll gaslight him later.”
A lot of things happened and Neige still couldn’t even read the room, you hesitate, wondering if it was right to keep such a person on your side, even Kalim could read the room better than Neige could.
You let out a breath as Jamil ordered Neige to sing and dance away from the entire coliseum; you have no idea where Neige would go, but hopefully, it would be far away from the purple stage—and you hoped he would leave quickly since the skies started to darken as a symbol Vil was overblotting.
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When others waited for Vil to wake up, you had to sit and try not to think too much because of the constant happenings all within one hour; it didn’t feel right to blame Neige.
It didn’t feel right to blame Neige for the castings of the movies, and that he was always chosen as a hero when Vil was always chosen as a villain and was compared to how Neige presents himself.
You couldn’t help but think that Neige was ignorant, and at the same time, you also thought about the possibilities Neige went through as a person and artist with all that ignorance and naivety. 
And what’s up with Neige? He has no danger sensors, but Vil was a good actor so it could be quite impossible to know he had malicious intentions and you only knew because you were with him before the incident.
“Should I be happy I got you thinking?” Vil asked. “Did you know what the condition was?”
He was being supported by Rook and the other dancers were trying to figure out how to fix the colosseum; Vil was not exactly happy, he remembered the way the drink’s rim was in your mouth and had it not been for Grim, who knew what could happen to you?
You shake your head and that didn’t make Vil feel any better—not that he ever will be since you still nearly drank it.
“I thought it was fine,” you muttered, sighing. “Rook would’ve done the same.”
“You would?”
“Oui, I would want to believe in you, the you who strives harder and reaches for greater heights than any other. I don’t want you to besmirch yourself by doing anything foolish.”
“I just happen to feel the same,” you muttered, even though you hesitated. “I don’t want your reputation to be ruined, Vil. I’ll carry your poison to my grave.”
“You’ve barely been here for a year,” Vil said and you’re reminded by your supposed home in a world different from where you currently sat. “I wouldn’t have forgiven myself.”
“I would, if it helps,” you laughed a little, unable to handle the serious moment, especially when the tension was crushing you a little. “I’d forgive you, Vil, I really… believe you are a kind person.”
In a moment of vulnerability, Vil’s chest clenched; he didn’t know you well, only knowing you from a few lessons in class because of you being a third year, but you do catch his attention on a few occasions.
Occasions such as you being knowledgeable in skin care, or the you that one time offered to give his face a massage while he stayed at Ramshackles; occasions that send his heart fluttering.
“Well, well, what do we have here?” a horned person stood nearby and you looked over. “I thought I’d arrive a bit early, and what do I find but a stage laid to waste?”
“Oh, Hornton…” you muttered, a little embarrassed like you’ve been caught even if you had done nothing but bare your feelings to both Rook and Vil. “There’s still two hours before the competition opens.”
“Hornton…!?”
“Oh, hey! So you’re the Hornton guy that wanders around Ramsheckle’s gardens late at night,” Grim said, earning the attention of the first and second years as if the third years weren’t already surprised by you. “I heard about you from [name], you really do have horns growin’ outta your head! Myah hah hah—MRAH!”
“Grim, are you nuts!?” Deuce whispered his hiss as he held Grim to his chest with a hand on his mouth. “Y-you can’t just talk to an upperclassman that way!”
“Roi des Dragons, how did you get into the coliseum?” Rook asked, earning a huff from the person.
“I was invited, by the child of man living in Ramshackle Dorm. I have my invitation right here.”
“I don’t think it’s that…” you said as you got up and dusted your bum. “The venue still has that mist, but for some reason you’re unscathed? Isn’t it the poison mist from Vil’s unique magic?”
“I suppose there was some sort of cantrip up when I came in,” the man said. “But no curse, no matter how powerful, will work on me.”
“I see you’ve taken advantage of [name]’s ignorance,” Vil said as he huffed.” Malleus Draconia.”
“Oh dang…” you muttered, remembering the times you heard his name but never saw him during the Spelldrive tournament because of the flying disk that went to your head.
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THIS IS HEIZNX, DAMN I LOST MY CHANCE TO PUT MANIPULATIVE NEIGE AGAJFJFHJFG BECAUSE VDC TOOK SO GODDAMN LONG. but anyways… i’m not too proud of it but i want to just post whatever i write since i have no job and i’m waiting for college to start. Original title was pretty please and it inspired me so bad but goddamn :((
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korattata · 4 months
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i'm really really glad that i had done rat intros previously so the girls are like.... basically getting along completely already
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neverendingford · 3 months
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#tag talk#hey bitches. she's afk so mom said it's my turn with the body. feels good to be back. I hate half of you parasites and I'm blocking some#same with Instagram. bunch of fucking drones posting shitty memes and sending the most unfunny jokes possible. blocking most of you there#started the process of sorting some things out with her girlfriend because damn some things are unacceptable and you've gotta say something.#she gets to do the soft and useless damage control later I guess I don't fucking care. I'm not going to let us get disrespected like that.#she lets it slide but I'm done taking shit.#sent an angry email to our therapist last night as well because fucking hell how can you be so incompetent at your fucking job.#Jesus h Christ didn't you study this in school or something? yeah we've gone through multiple therapists sorry that makes you insecure???#you're not the first and from the looks of things you're not going to be the last either.#saw the psychiatrist this morning and bipolar confirmed I guess. we'll see whether the new meds make much of a difference.#I kind of don't want them to though. I like being out and finally able to sort our shit out.#feels good to finally message people and tell them how I feel. I don't get a voice much anymore#and ugh I hate having long hair so much but I have to keep it because she needs it so I'll put up with it for her sake but damn I miss short#short hair was genuinely so fucking good and the hassle of long hair is so stupidly intensive but gender dysphoria so whatever I guess#anyway bye you mouth breathers I'm off to go get this stupid-ass body showered#I hate having a penis too though. that's one thing we can both agree on. it's so stupid and it hangs out and the shape is so stupid#God should take constructive criticism and also mean criticism because I have some opinions about how shitty his design is#anyway. bye idiots#Fade is such a fucking good band they were such a good pick for the Deadman Wonderland op
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kafkasmuses · 5 months
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innocence — modern ! coriolanus snow + reader : your friends ask you to get some drugs from the local dealer, but you never expect he would take a liking to you.
tags : 18+!!! MDNI!!! drug dealing ! coryo, drugs, praise kink, overprotective behavior, possessive behavior, porn with feelings, p in v sex, fingering, special treatment
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coriolanus snow hated parties, they were loud, and the people were insufferable— but he needed the money from the things he sold. cocaine, weed, even some ecstasy. whatever the people wanted, whatever helped support his grandmother and cousin. they weren’t living in the most luxury like all the other people who held parties in these neighborhoods, so that’s why coriolanus attended them, they always paid the most.
he typically got douchebags or stuck - up pretty girls, they both always paid him in crumpled up ones that he took forever to straighten out and count— what a bunch of assholes.
what he never expected, though, was you, coming up to the man dressed in a korn shirt and baggy jeans with a bow in your hair as well as wearing a pretty dress. your doe eyes peered up at him when you tapped his shoulder, he turned, eyes slotting down to meet yours, “hey.”
“hi,” you hesitate, cute, “i.. do you sell drugs?”
he clears his throat, “sorry?”
“do you—“
“probably shouldn’t repeat yourself, doll,” he tips his head up, “i do, are you buying?“
“just for my friends, yeah,” you smile shyly at him, and he returns it.
you’re so innocent, had you ever done any drugs before? definitely not the ones he sells, maybe the weed, but cocaine or ecstasy? no, no way. if it were for you, he wouldn’t be selling you it anyway. coriolanus had a certain soft spot, if you will, for the innocent girls that wander up to him at parties with their batting eyelashes and naturally pouted lips.
“alright, let’s go upstairs,” he tips his head to the stairs, chuckling when you move to give a thumbs up to your friends before following after him, “why do they make you ask for them?”
he suddenly moves back to grab your wrist when the halls find themselves crowded, not wanting to lose you in the sea of people, nor you lose him. you were a client, a customer, and he always treats his customer this way.
loud incorrect buzzer.
he doesn’t!
coriolanus never dares to allow himself to sweeten up around his customers, or anyone, but something about your shy, deer like attitude— it had a wolf wanting to protect.
“they say they’re too nervous to do it themselves,” you finally answer when he leads you into the nearest empty room, closing the door behind you.
he finally lets go of your wrist, “that so? what are they askin’ for?”
“cocaine,” you swallow.
“then they’re not nervous,” he chuckles, having to deal with his fair share of cocaine users, none of them are nervous to approach him, “why do you let them push you around?”
he moves to sit on the bed, chopping up the cocaine from his pocket on the nightstand next to him. he typically doesn’t like when his customers stand over him, because he never knows what they will do, and he likes to be in control at all times— but you’re harmless, aren’t you? just a little deer.
you exhale a nervous laugh, “they’re not pushing me around, they’re just asking me for favors.”
he hums, eyes peering up at you as his hands absentmindedly work on the pearl powder, it was muscle memory for him at this point. “you promise you’re not doing this shit, too?”
“i promise,” your lips tip up to a curt smile, “it’s really.. scary, honestly.”
he exhales, eyes trailing over the curves of your face before they meet the nightstand again, swiping the powdered sugar like substance into a little baggie. you watch him, almost admiring, “yeah. it is really scary, dangerous, too— don’t want you doin’ this shit too.”
a warm feeling courses through your veins, you hardly realize he’s holding the baggies out for you until he clears his throat, you blink a few times, quickly trying to grasp the money you had— it wasn’t given to you by your friends to spend for them, it was just your own money. how cruel.
“it’s on the house,” he quickly says, almost unaware of what he was saying himself until it finally passes his lips.
you bat your lashes at him, “what—“
“free, doll, just take it,” he allows himself a faint smile.
you hesitantly reach to take the baggies, “are you sure…?”
he nods, “‘m positive.”
“thank you, snow,” his eyebrows furrow at how sweet his name sounds on your tongue, like nectar delivered by the kindest dove from the gods.
you turn to leave, but he quickly stands, “hey—“ he pauses, eyes sweeping over your figure as he tries to figure out what to say, you probably go to millions of parties with your asshole friends, possibly with other dealers.. “some other dealers are gonna try to rip you off, make you pay a lot for a little bit— so just, come to me and i’ll treat you good as long as you’re staying out of trouble, princess.”
“okay, i will,” you nod quickly.
“good girl.”
⊹˚. ౨ৎ
you don’t see coriolanus for a while after that night, it has been no more than a few days, less than a week but the idea of you is rotting in his brain and eating him whole from the inside out. at every party he went to, every girl with a bow in their hair (he despises that it’s the latest trend) or wearing a baby pink dress reminds him of you. with their fluttering lashes and soft smiles, god, he hates that he sees you in every one of them. he hates that you have completely plagued his entire conscience, but yet he never complains about it, not once.
sometimes, sejanus, one of the other known dealers, though he more so considers himself a look - out when coriolanus is selling, or a promoter for coriolanus’ business— he notices how coriolanus’ eyes linger more than usual on the women at parties, it almost makes him laugh, or tease coriolanus.
isn’t he supposed to be intimidating? not a man easily falling for women.
a lover boy, that’s what he seemed like now.
sejanus swishes around his drink in his cup, eyes falling to coriolanus, “what’s up with you?”
coriolanus blinks once, twice, “what are you talking about?”
“you haven’t blinked in like an hour,” sejanus liked to overexaggerate, “are you okay?”
“of course i am,” he scoffs, “‘m gonna find arachne.”
arachne, sejanus’ best friend, albeit she talks so much shit about him behind his back. sejanus is sweet, passive, and arachne is the complete opposite. some would call arachne a maneater, coriolanus thinks of her as a conceited bitch who needs to be put on a leash. she had a tendency to run off whenever she went to parties with coriolanus and sejanus, so coriolanus always had to run after her to try and find her.
sejanus nods, offering a small i’ll look too.
coriolanus allows sejanus to walk the opposite way as he turns the corner, eyes scanning each room for a brunette with a bold red lip. he doesn’t find her anywhere, god, she better not be having sex in one of the rooms upstairs like how she was last time. coriolanus likes to think opening that door to that sight was something out of a horror movie.
he does find a different brunette, though, with more golden tones and curlier hair.
festus creed, of fucking course creed is here. he was another one of the other well known dealers in the area. he wasn’t that well with his sells, mostly because he acts like he’s above everyone else in the worst way possible, and even allows people to pay with sex.
coriolanus heard his sex is never good.
funny, isn’t it? how someone with a small dick and hardly any skills on pleasing women would offer sex as payment.
coriolanus, at least, thinks it’s hilarious.
what he doesn’t think is hilarious, though, is that festus is talking to someone coriolanus is far too familiar with. glittery eye makeup, a lacy bow in their hair, baby pink dress.. it’s you.
coriolanus’ mouth runs dry when you spot him in the corner of your eye, your lips twisting into a sugar - coated grin as soon as your eyes widen, “snow!”
you immediately move to give him a hug, festus’ searing gaze following your every movement in the creepiest way possible— god, coriolanus hates him. his fingers lace around your waist, tugging you close, “hey, princess.”
“princess?” festus snickers.
coriolanus tries to ignore him, but he finds it near impossible with the words that leave your lips next, “this is festus, my friend, do you know him?”
coriolanus scoffs, does he know him, what a joke, “i know of him.”
festus finds himself chuckling bitterly, “is that right, pretty boy?”
coriolanus takes a step, and you feel a certain mold of metal against your waist when he does, a gun, his cold lips part, “sure is.”
your eyes roam over his features, the curves of his skin when his brows collide, the way his eyes darken with malice, the grit of his sharp teeth, the flush of his jaw against his flesh as he moves it. his muscles flex underneath his baggy band t - shirt, veins pulsing. he was angry.
festus’ lips part, but you speak before him, “snow?”
his head nods in your direction, but he doesn’t say anything.
“answer your girl, snow,” festus taunts.
“go upstairs,” he mumbles, it’s to you.
so you do.
⊹˚. ౨ৎ
coriolanus sighs when he closes the door behind him, coming in mere minutes later. you had been sitting on the bed in the vacant room, fingers playing together, eyes glossed over in fear and pricking with tears. coriolanus wasn’t the only one who carried, but you didn’t hear any shots, fortunately.
“kid’s such a fuckin’ asshole,” he mumbles, cracking his bruising knuckles, “he’s not sellin’ you shit, is he?”
“sometimes—“
“don’t buy from him anymore,” coriolanus pauses, swallowing, “he laces his shit sometimes.”
it was true, festus was messy with his work, he didn’t lace the products himself but the people that distributed them to him would, he was just too lazy to even notice.
“i’m sorry,” it comes out hushed, a mere whisper, but coriolanus’ ears pick up on it easily.
his tone is softer now, “why?”
“i didn’t know—“
“then don’t apologize,” his head tips to the side, sniffling the bubbling blood in his nose, he inhales, pupils wide as they roam your features. a glass tear raced down your pliant cheek, and he immediately moved to carefully wipe it away, “don’t cry, doll.”
you don’t say anything, merely melt into his touch. coriolanus isn’t good with affection, he’s hardly had any girlfriend before and if he has, they don’t last long due to his struggles with showing kindness. so it’s obvious the next word that leaves his mouth isn’t one born from honeysuckle, “cocaine?”
your lips move nervously, bottom lip tugging under your teeth as your mascara covered lashes move to his frost - bitten eyes, “do you have.. ecstasy?”
his lips drop to a frown, “why?”
your lips tremble when they part, cheeks heating under his touch, “my friends want to try it.”
“no,” he swallows, jaw ticking, “i’m not selling you that shit.”
“what? why not?”
“that shit is too dangerous,” he chuckles, albeit it’s bitterness, “i don’t want you around that, it’s trouble.”
“i’ve been good,” you reassure, hips swaying when you scoot closer to the edge of the bed, closer to him.
“have you, now?” his thumb is gently rubbing against your skin.
“i have, i promise,” you offer, feeling his fingers move so his thumb is now moving against your bottom lip, dipping into your mouth ever so slightly.
you smile around it and his pupils dilate even more, are his eyes blue anymore or merely just sole pupil? “naughty girl.”
then he stops, as if he had realized something, and pulled away. your lips curve downward to a frown, desperate to have his touch again, “snow?”
“don’t,” his molars collide, “i’ll hurt you.”
“that’s okay—“
“—i’m bad news—“
“—i don’t think that—“
“—i’m dangerous, doll.”
you hesitate, inhaling sharply, “but you won’t hurt me.”
he doesn’t say anything for a minute, “so, you want cocaine?”
you give him a careful nod, and he smiles. again, he’s being sweet.
“you know how to chop up cocaine?”
you allow yourself a giggle, “you know i don’t.”
“i’ll show you.”
and he does, his hand is gentle as it guides yours, fingers curling against the curve of your own as he crushes up the cocaine, guiding you to chop it up with the card he gave you. you’re warm underneath his cold touch, his movements experienced whilst yours are new. “how many times have you done this?”
he shrugs, breath fresh against the shell of your ear, “a couple hundred, for sure.”
“i could help you, you know, with the business,” you offer, despite not even really wanting to.
“no,” his fingers are tighter against your skin, but not enough to hurt, “i don’t want you in this business, you being around me is dangerous enough.”
“you’re not dangerous, snow,” you hush out.
he moves closer, and you feel his gun brush against your ass, lips curving into a smile, “you think so?”
you shiver from the touch, it’s loaded, the safety is probably off, “i know so.”
your thighs push together, he feels it, making him chuckle, “you’re so needy, princess.”
“snow,” you breathe out, “this isn’t fair.”
“how so?” he presses a soft kiss behind your ear, “just because you aren’t getting what you want?”
“do you want it?” you pause your movements.
“of course i do, i want it as much as you,” he moves your fingers so you drop the card, guiding them to his bulge, “‘m just not spoiled.”
you frown at his works, fingers curving around his bulge, god, how big was he? “‘m not spoiled either.”
“whatever you say, princess,” he grits out.
you palm him so well, it nearly has him rutting against your hand, breathing getting heavier against your ear. his fingers move to trail down down your back, dipping underneath the hem of your skirt and tracing along the thin material of your lace panties. his jaw shifts, “such a dirty girl, wearing these panties.”
you whimper when his fingers graze along the soaked part of your panties, thick fingers brushing against your clothed clit, “please— snow.”
“please what, princess?” you mumble something in response, but it’s nearly incoherent, more of a whimper, “use your words.”
he moves to pull your panties to the side, now touching your bare clit, making your thighs tremble, “i need— fuck, i need you— inside.”
he nods, pressing kisses along the side of your neck, finding himself already pussy - drunk. it almost felt sacrificial, a sinful man dipping his fingers inside of a goddess, the way you moaned at the feeling of his finger stretching you out— it was as if he could be confessing of his sins at any minute.
to see your hips bucking against his finger, his name hushed on the tip of your delicate tongue. didn’t you know that many people wanted him dead? how many people hated him? how the police could arrest him at any second? yet you didn’t care, a lamb to the slaughter, a deer in between the jaws of a wolf.
yet you were rutting against his hand, begging for more, desiring him to push another finger in— and he did exactly that, prepping your tight cunt for his cock, “you’re so fuckin’ tight, doll, i don’t know if it’ll fit.”
“it will— it will, i know it will—,” you’re just babbling nonsense at this point, and coriolanus wanted to be gentle, he really did, but your sweet moans, your sugary whimpers, the way he so easily pushed his fingers inside of you, the way that when you curl, your moans up a few octaves. you were so sensitive, god, were you a virgin?
the thought had coriolanus pulling his fingers out, twirling you around so he can push his fingers into your mouth, allowing you to taste yourself as his other hand undoes the belt holding his baggy jeans up. his eyes are crystalizing the memory of your tongue swirling against his fingers, sucking up every taste of your own cunt— have you thought of this as many times as he has?
he moves his hand to take his gun before it falls, placing it on the counter behind you, his fingers move from your mouth to help him push his jeans down, your lips part, “why do you have a gun?”
he smiles sweetly at your words, nearly chuckling, “why do you think?”
“‘m not sure, that’s why i asked,” you had a certain tinge in your voice that makes him quirk a brow.
“it’s to protect myself, princess,” he pushes his boxers down, finally freeing his cock, “now be a good girl, turn around, and bend over.”
of course you do exactly what he asks, bending over the counter so he can push your skirt up. the feeling of your innocence being stripped away right in front of you was far too good, like a cross ripped from the chain around your neck, or your holy water being unpurified. you were a cupcake with frosting on top, and coriolanus was sinking his teeth into you, rotting his sweet tooth.
his dick slaps against your heat when your legs part with desire, making you whine against nothing, “snow— please..”
“just say it, princess,” he moves to rub his red tip against your clit, making you shudder, knees buckling already.
“fuck me— f..fuck me,” you repeatedly beg.
he moves closer to press a sweet kiss on the back of your neck, bones colliding when his cock finally pushes into your cunt. you were so tight around him, squeezing him around your velvet walls. your jaw falls slack when you gasp at the feeling of him stretching you out, his lips pull tight together in a grunt, “so tight for me, princess— jesus christ..”
his breathing is labored when he pulls his hips back and thrusts in, he goes slow at first, treating you like you were a fragile statue made from porcelain, but then you’re begging him to go faster, to go harder. your fingers graze along the gun placed on the counter, right next to the cocaine. his tongue swipes along the roof of his mouth before he speaks, “are you sure, doll? i don’t— fuck— want to hurt you.”
“h-hurt me, it’s okay,” you mumble out, and he truly does hesitate for a second, then his thrusts are suddenly faster, bumping you into the counter with the sheer snap of his hips. your cries sound like noises formed from a blessed harp, passed down by the gods for him to listen to, each moan getting louder and louder until his ears are ringing, until the music sounds hushed compared to your screams.
it’s so obscene, all of the things that he finds himself spitting out as he harshly bucks into you. so cute, jus’ wanna ruin you, takin’ my cock so well, that feel good princess? he can’t help the way his hands snake up to your hair, tugging at the pretty bow wrapped around it, earning a frosted moan from your glossed lips.
it’s not long until you’re cuming on his cock, with him pulling out to twirl you around and push you to your knees, allowing you to jerk him off until thick white stripes are decorating your face. the white glitter, the sweet scent of your lip - gloss, now accompanied by his cum.
how cute.
“so fuckin’ pretty,” he mumbles as he tucks his dick back in his boxers, pulling his jeans back up when your painted nails move to wipe away the cum on your face, lapping it up with your pretty tongue.
you giggle sweetly, “do you do this with all your customers?”
he shakes his head, “no, doll, you’re special, you know that.”
and it’s true, you really were special.
you were a dangerous man’s doll.
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tojisbbygworl · 11 months
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He’s Not Actually That Cool - Hobie Brown x Black!Reader
Based off of this post
Part 2 bonus bonus ii
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Imagine Hobie, the undeniably coolest person in the Spider Society, is a virgin nerd with a big dick
Tags: Hobie is a pathetic virgin loser, 18+, a lil smut, Oral (m receiving)
"How are you even cooler under your mask?"
"I was this cool the whole time."
A scoff behind the both of them. It's you shaking your head in your mask.
Hobie smirks at you. "Something funny there, love?" You don't say anything, just pretending you don't hear him and looking away innocently.
Hobie was the reason you were a part of the Spider Society. He and Miguel had captured the anomaly in your own universe with your help, of course. You knew Hobie had immediately took a liking to you what with the way he stared at you through his mask when he first laid eyes on you, frozen in place, color palette pink.
You liked him the moment he ripped his mask off when it was all said and done. He looked real good with his wicks, his sharp facial structure, wide-set nose and even larger lips. You actually believed him when he said he was briefly a runway model, emphasis on the briefly.
He invited you to join them and pulled you into the portal before Miguel could even say anything. You two have been inseparable ever since.
As you met more people, they all told you of their opinion of the man who seemed to be your best friend. Everyone says the same thing, that he's effortlessly cool and it makes him a little obnoxious. It always made you tilt your head.
You've seen the anime action figures in his room ranging anywhere from Naruto to Tokyo Ghoul.
"Oi, don't touch my things. You're the only person I trust to let in here, don't ruin it."
He's talked your ear off about the intricate lore of FNAF (he HATES MatPat btw)
You've groaned at how many times you've heard the name 'Afton' leave his mouth.
"So the place shut down again after the victim lost their entire frontal lobe"
"And that's the bite of '83, right?"
"No, that's the bite of '87. Thought I told you about '83?"
He probably did but he talked about it so damn much that you forgot. "It's cool, I'll tell you. So the bite of '83..."
This man is a fucking nerd but the BIGGEST misconception everyone has is that he's probably great at sex.
He has a reputation of "running through" everyone who wants him at the society...and yet no one has actually done anything with him. Everyone whispers about it, but no one has ever come out and admitted to having sex with him.
He's without a doubt your closest friend, so you asked him about it while you were chilling at his, watching him strum his guitar.
"So I heard you been running through the Spider Society like a tomb raider."
He cackled, "Yeah, that's what they all believe, innit?"
"It's not true?"
He shook his head. "I haven't got bottle, luv. Don't know what the bloody hell I'm doing."
"Oh really?"
He stopped strumming to look up at you, his smirk falling upon seeing your sultry and mischievous face. He grew a bit nervous, but was more excited if anything.
"What's that look about?"
"Would you like someone to teach you?"
He dropped his pick from how badly he was shaking. Hobie gulped and slowly nodded his head. You walked over to him and slowly lifted his guitar off his body, then pushing him back into the couch and sitting on top of him.
That's how this current make-out session started with you doing most of the work, taking off yours and his clothes feverously.
Hobie just sat back and let you do whatever you wanted. He especially loved watching you strip down to your underwear, blood shooting to his dick as soon as he watched your breasts bounce out of your shirt. He watched you pull your panties off of you leaving you completely naked and him only in his boxers.
He shifted in the couch to relieve some tension. You giggled at his starstruck face.
"You good?" You asked him. He nodded. "Do you need me to pull it out for you?" He nodded again.
You laughed, but was quickly shut up by his long, curved shaft slapping back onto his stomach. His underwear did him no justice, nothing could have prepared you for this.
He shyly looked away and bit his lip, not wanting to admit that he liked the way you gazed at it. It fueled his ego, but he didn't know how to tell you without stuttering.
He was actually shaking pretty bad, and it worried you. "Are you okay?"
"Y-yeah...I just..." he gulped and looked back down, his dick jumping upon looking into your eyes. Just like his, yours were a deep brown. Your eyes were furrowed in concern, and your full lips were parted. His breathing got deeper.
"You really want to have sex? With me?"
You deadpanned him, then leaned your head down to his base. Hobie gasped when you stuck your tongue out and licked all the way to his tips. Your played with it for a couple seconds, leaving him a shuddering mess. His precum leaked from it and you licked it all up reveling in the salty taste.
"O-oh..." he moaned when you grasped it gently and began to pump. He closed his eyes and tilted his head back, so glad that he didn't have to imagine it was your hand beating his dick. He humped into it a little, and he looked so sexy crunching his abs that you couldn't help but to enclose your mouth over him.
"Oh, fuck," he exclaimed. He threw his head back up and gazed upon your form. You were giving him the sloppiest top he had ever seen, (he only watched BJ and missionary porn and you were much better than those girls)
God, he couldn't wait to get you under him and hump into you like's he's thought about for so long. He's used his hand, his pillow, he even looked up how to make his own flesh light because he would never be able to hide a real one from you. It was gross but fuck, how else was he supposed to get his rocks off? If he didn't do any of those things, he would have no control around you.
"Fuck, babe. Please keep going~" Hobie was drooling - actually drooling - out the side of his mouth. He panted and clenched his hands. You had to reach out and move them to your hair.
The poor thing panicked, he had no idea what you wanted him to do. He gently pet your small afro, more concerned that he was close to cumming down your throat.
You stopped and popped him out of your mouth, laughing a little at how cute he was.
You didn't notice how stressed he looked, him sitting up a little more in the chair. "Ngh, wait, no-" he whispered.
His dick bounces with each spray of his cum with him letting out a string of moans and curses as it lands on his stomach and chest. "Ffff...uh...uck..."
"Oh, I'm so sorry," you say, watching his fucked-out face. His head bounces with each deep breath he took.
"Why...did you...stop?" he asked in between pants.
"Why did you pat my head?" you asked, standing up, begrudgingly putting your clothes back on despite the ache between your legs.
"What was I supposed to do?" Hobie stares at your ass lustfully, feeling the blood rush back into his dick from how it moved.
"You were supposed to grab my hair and choke me with your dick, baby."
He gulps not being able to take his eyes off of you. "Oh."
You turned after putting your panties back on and froze. His dick was standing straight up again, the head glistening with thick white liquid. He stared at you embarrassingly, hoping that you would just come back over and kiss it.
"You could have said something before I started putting my shit back on."
"Sorry," he said, not being able to contain his excitement when you walked back over to him. His smile went away when you instead hovered yourself over his lap. His cum was still on his stomach and his dick. "W-Wait-"
"Yeah?" You whispered sensually, grabbing him again and pulling your panties to the side to line him up with you.
"I'm still-, I still have-, Is this okay?"
"I'm on the pill."
He starts getting nervous again, but he doesn't know why.
"You scared?" She asks.
He looks at her and rests his hand on her hip. "I don't want to hurt you. Or make you uncomfortable."
You giggled again. "I promise you I'll be fine."
"But, I still got my cum on me, babe."
"I know." You leans over to his ear and lick it. He shivers. "Isn't that so nasty?"
Hobie moaned as you begin to sink yourself onto him. You moan too, Hobie splitting you like you never imagined.
"You really want to shag a virgin?" He finally asked her, his voice wavering.
She rolled her eyes and sighed in frustration. "Virginity is a social construct. Don't be ashamed. Now shut the fuck up."
Definitely making a part 2 and a lil bonus and another bonus (ii)
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churipu · 4 months
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( OO1 ) ★ unwarranted assumptions , sukuna ryomen
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featuring. sukuna ryomen x reader
warnings. cursing, college! au, sukuna and yuuji are twin brothers here lol, sukuna might be a lil ooc here (he's in love, he just doesn't know it pls spare him omg). // wc: 3.5k
ENTRY ( OO1 ) OF THE "INTO THE IPINVERSE" MILESTONE
"how do i know if i'm in love with someone?" "you want to kill everyone who gets near them." "oh, shit."
tag: @rrairey milov, ily for participating in this mwah mwah, @sad-darksoul, @sweeneyblue1 , @idkuluka, @colorful-happy-shit
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sukuna and yuuji were quite the opposite. the only thing they share is their looks, and their love for basketball. that's about it. on one hand, we have itadori yuuji—the younger twin— who has a passion for basketball, is the campus' sunshine, and is always friendly to practically everyone.
on the other hand, we have sukuna ryomen—the older twin, just by twelve minutes— who also has a passion for basketball, is "considered" as one of the campus' scariest person, and is never friendly to everyone.
the two however, stuck to each other like glue. walking around campus with one another, like two peas in a pod, they did everything together. it's no longer an odd sight to see them both together — it is pretty weird if one is here, and the other is there.
despite their contrasts in personalities, the two were popular. being star athletes, constantly winning trophies for the campus, and climbing up in fame. hell, even people from different campus would drop by just to meet the two at times, it's funny.
"hey, great job on the match, yuuji."
then there was you. a friend of yuuji — the two of you met during the first semester, and have been good friends since then. however, you never really talked to sukuna. the only thing you both have exchanged were short greetings, and eye-contacts.
you had a cinch that the older twin doesn't particularly like you; but that was just your assumption. you didn't know the truth. this sole assumption was the only thing that made you cease contact with the male. in all honesty, you find him rather . . . well, intimidating. the aura he sets off was just, unsettling. so you just assumed that sukuna doesn't like you.
sukuna finds you rather, amusing. how you would only congratulate his younger brother, and not him as well despite him being next to his brother. how you would throw your gaze away the moment your eyes met his. how you would bow your head down a bit whenever you both exchanged greetings. he didn't understand why you were so intent on doing all that stuff, and so he assumed that you weren't fond of him.
the male wanted to question it, but really — it would be weird for him, and for you. so he never actually done it.
see? assumptions are such fucking party-poopers. i mean, if only the two of you had come to both of your senses and just talked instead of assuming things about one another, where you think sukuna hates you, and sukuna thinks you hated him.
"why do they do that?" sukuna finds himself asking his brother, yuuji. elbow nudging yuuji's arm lightly.
"i need names." yuuji replied back before averting his gaze to the side, watching his twin brother staring at something— or someone intently. yuuji looks over to what sukuna was so focused on, smirking lightly when he saw you in his own vision, "are y'talking about y/n?"
sukuna lightly grunted, leaning back onto the chair rest. his eyes finally ripping away from you, who was currently throwing laughs and giggles amongst your friend group.
"yeah, them. why'd they do that?" sukuna parrots.
"do what, exactly?" yuuji retorts back, leaning his cheek onto the palm of his hand, sighing out in triumph; trying to figure out where this conversation will go.
"avoid me, but not you." yuuji pops a small smile, lightly elbowing his brother's side, "what?"
"do y'like them?"
like? sukuna didn't like you. he just finds your attitude towards him amusing, and . . . maybe you confuse him a bit at the difference on how you treat yuuji and him. but sukuna would never say that to his brother, he'd never hear the end of it, he just knows it.
"like? psh, you've gotta be kidding me. i was just fucking curious about their behavior, you brat." he pushed yuuji away lightly before burying his face into his arms, heaving out a loud sigh.
yuuji chuckles, "brat? you're only twelve minutes older than i am," he sings out in a teasing manner.
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sukuna swore he just finds you amusing. at first.
so why does it pisses him off that you ran to his brother's side after a match and handed him a bottle of energy drink, and not him. murmuring out strings of curses, he felt like an absolute buffoon, standing beside yuuji — drenched in sweat, using the hem of his jersey to wipe the dribbling sweat.
while yuuji had all the glory. getting a small cute, teddy bear motive handkerchief from you, an energy drink, and a congratu-fucking-lations.
"yeah — that buzzer beater was totally amazing, yuuji. congrats on winning again! not that i've ever doubt you or the rest," you complimented, and hearing 'the rest' coming out of your mouth, for some reason; pisses sukuna off even more.
the older twin swerved his shoes on the court's floor, letting his soles let out a screech as it rubbed against the shiny surface of the floor. earning both yours and yuuji's attention.
"y'alright?" yuuji asks, popping open the bottle cap of the energy drink from you. and the sight made sukuna ball his fists in annoyance — god, he didn't even know why he was feeling like such.
"yeah. 'm gonna head to change," sukuna mutters out, hesitantly turning away to leave.
and the moment he turns his body away, sukuna could hear the vivid voices of both you and yuuji exchanging goodbyes. and before he knew it, yuuji was walking alongside him, "are you really okay? you look like you need to let out a fuse."
sukuna answered with a soft hum, his eyes narrowing as he continued on walking to the locker room. still angry, frustrated, and annoyed all at once.
"y/n told me to tell you congrats, by the way."
sukuna peered over the locker's door and arched a brow, "why couldn't they tell me that themselves, hm?" yuuji chuckles, finding his brother's behavior funny; because when else was yuuji going to see sukuna act like this?
like a love struck puppy, who doesn't know they're in love.
"who knows?" yuuji shrugs, grabbing the hem of his jersey and ripping it off his body — breathing out loudly, using the handkerchief you gave him to dab the sweat on his face.
sukuna eyed his brother, squinting his eyes lightly before doing the same action, minus the handkerchief. while he was doing so, a thought passed his mind.
"how do i know if i'm in love with someone?" yuuji instantly knew who the person sukuna was talking about, but prompted to say nothing about it and just play along.
yuuji pretended to give the question a deep thought before eventually answering, "you want to kill everyone who gets near them."
sukuna stared at his brother for a short while, muttering out a subtle, "oh, shit."
the reaction was enough for yuuji to made his own conclusion, "you like y/n don't you? which explains why you're in such a shitty mood, since they only paid attention to me—"
"okay, shut the fuck up." sukuna blurted out, "so what if i fucking do, huh? it's not like they'd like me back anyways."
sukuna shuts the locker, the loud bang resounding in the almost empty locker room. yuuji broke out into a loud laugh, "there y'go, making assumptions here and there, it's not like you both have ever talked in a normal conversation before anyways. how do you know they don't like you?"
good point.
"what are you going to do without me?" yuuji sighs out exasperatedly, the younger twin approached his brother, sliding the partly (sweat) damp handkerchief into sukuna's grasp, "return this to them for me, and who knows — maybe you'll be able to make a more positive assumption or two after."
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sukuna wondered why he was standing in front of you, his hand shoved out, in between his index finger and middle finger was the same handkerchief yuuji had told him to give back to you.
"the brat wants me to give this back to you." he grunted out, his voice deep and unfriendly.
you stood in front of him, blinking rapidly; not knowing of what to say, should you start off with a greeting? or just tell him thank you? or maybe congratulate him for the match?
and so you decided to do all three, in a random order.
"thank you for your win, congratulations, hi." oh, god. the moment he stared at you in plain confusion — or maybe despise, you just wanted to crawl under the ground and die right there and then.
". . . thanks." he slowly murmurs back, waiting for you to grab your small fabric from his fingers, but you never did, "are you gonna take this or what?"
sukuna wanted to punch himself on the face after you flinched at the tone of his voice, your fingers frantically ripping away the fabric from his touch, mumbling out apologies. he didn't mean for his voice to come out that harsh.
the male wasted no more time in turning his heels to walk away, noticing your tense form; instead of a more positive assumption, his assumption worsened from you hating him, to you hating and being scared of him.
". . . bye." he mutters out, walking away with long strides to go find yuuji.
and when he did, sukuna just wanted to use his younger brother as a punching bag. hell, he didn't know why he was so angry at yuuji, and himself. heavy on himself, though.
"woah, what's up with you?" yuuji pushes his brother away lightly, "how did it go? did you guys like . . . at least exchanged phone numbers or not?"
sukuna shook his head, "think they're scared of me." he mutters out, throwing his head back, stressed out.
"is that your assumption again?" sukuna didn't answer him, which confirmed the question. the younger one heaves out a loud sigh that attracted an odd look—more like a glare—from sukuna.
"i wan' to sock your face in so bad," he mutters out condescendingly, eyes boring into yuuji's face; which in a way intimidated the younger twin, of course.
with a nervous smile, yuuji raises both of his hands up in defense, "chill, 'm gonna give you their phone number, maybe y'should ask them out or something."
see, the thing is that sukuna hated texting— in a way, it's like leaving footprints everywhere. he hated all that stuff. call him old fashioned, but you know he has a pretty good point. so he refused blatantly, "no, jus' leave it to me, i'll think of something."
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the gods are on his side.
"i guess, we're partners?" you asked him meekly, slipping into yuuji's empty seat since the younger one was away with his assigned partner on the other side of the lecture hall.
sukuna hums, not knowing what else to say. his eyes followed your figure as you dropped a binder on top of the table, though— one thing particularly caught his eyes. the strip of photo that was tucked beneath the binder's transparent cover, he recognized you, your two other friends, and yuuji.
why the hell was his brother there? the male had one of his eyes closed, and a toothy grin; showing off his pearly whites while his fingers are formed into a peace sign. his cheek leaning onto the side of your head.
indubitably silenced, you averted your gaze to his face slightly. seeing that his attention was on your binder, you awkwardly shifted the book away— and sukuna came into his senses, now looking onto the surface of the table.
"uh . . . should we get started then?" you proposed, and he gave out a subtle nod.
the passing half an hour was just plain awkward. awkward is an understatement, you wanted to just walk out on him— but that would be rude. plus, he's actually doing his share of work, and you did yours. only conversing when you both needed opinions on each other's results.
"so," sukuna started, breaking the silence that seemed like had been going on for like . . . forever.
"you like my brother?"
you slowly tilted your head to look at him, blinking your eyes feverishly, "what—? god, no. what? where did that even come from?" sukuna felt the knot in his stomach unknot, a little relieved to hear your answer.
"just askin', since you're both so close." he shrugs, not even sparing you a glance.
"you're assuming." you found yourself chuckling, "jus' because we're close, doesn't mean i like yuuji— i think of him more of a . . . brother figure," you informed sukuna.
"oh." he resounds, "since we're twins, y'think of me as a brother too or is that exclusive for my twin?" sukuna questions, his tone laced with mischief.
rolling your eyes, you answered him in the same joking manner, "exclusive for your twin, not like we ever talked before, y'know?" oh. right, that did shut sukuna up, his silence killing the conversation almost immediately.
his silence domineered over you. it was like he was planning to do something to you right this very moment, until your lecturer calls out that the session was finished (and how the project should be submitted next week during his session).
saved by the lecturer.
"uh . . . well, should we continue this next time then?" you asked him, packing your stationary.
"yeah, sure."
" . . . if you don't mind, can i have your number? for project purposes," jackpot. sukuna took the chance and nodded, using his pen to swiftly write his digits on your binder, "thanks, i'll text you later. bye, sukuna."
once you left his sight, yuuji pops in. grinning efficiently, "i saw that, this must be fate, i can just feel it."
"you believe in that shit? we're just gonna talk about the project." sukuna retorts back, packing his own belongings before swinging his bag strap over his shoulder.
"oh come on, you're smiling. at least your body's honest," yuuji teases, earning an up right smack to the back of his head, "if they ask where you should do the project — say our house."
absolutely not. sukuna thought.
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yet here you were, sitting on the floor of his room, scribbling away on a piece of paper as he sat across from you — glancing up from his own paper from time to time, taking a swift look at your focused face before returning to his own.
sukuna couldn't focus at all. he wanted to, really. but he was alone with you in his room, this was a chance for him; to get to know you. he had so much to say, but he didn't know where to start.
yuuji, earlier in the day had even gone out to give him a list of questions to ask you so you both could have a better relationship. sukuna didn't think it was needed, since well, it is sukuna. why would he need a list for?
on the other side, you too, were dying to say something. but the permanent scowl on sukuna's face made you falter even before you could take a whiff of him.
a knock to sukuna's door was all it took for the both of you to stop scribbling, finally taking a good look of each other. and the door swung open, revealing yuuji with a white shirt and a yellow jacket on, he was holding a plate of what seemed to be chocolate chip cookies, "so— how's your project holding up?"
sukuna shrugs, "i guess, it's fine."
yuuji slid the plate on top of the wooden table, grinning lightly, "you guys getting along just fine?" he questions, squatting down.
you nodded, "we're okay."
okay? okay??? well, in a way you and sukuna are both fine. but sukuna didn't feel fine, "guess so."
the dopey smile you had on the moment yuuji entered his room made sukuna think that you didn't feel comfortable enough to be in the same room as he is, alone. and honestly, just the thought of it made his stomach churn in agony — because, why must it be his own brother that he's jealous of?
"well, i gotta go. dig in the cookies, g'luck on the project you guys," yuuji smacked sukuna's back harshly before trotting away to leave the room, mutely shutting the door.
you grabbed a piece of cookie, taking a crunchy bite out of it. marveling in delight.
"are you scared of me?"
sukuna needed to stop with the sudden questions that made your heart leap at least three miles away. widening your eyes a bit, you arched both of your brows, "wha . . . t?"
you stopped chewing altogether, eyeing the male across from you like he's crazy. i mean — if you were to be honest, you were partially intimidated by him and the aura he's giving out.
"i asked if you're scared of me," sukuna repeats, laying his pen down onto the table as he intertwined his fingers together, waiting for an answer.
you nodded, "truthfully, you're intimidating."
oh.
sukuna expected that answer, but why did it actually made his heart throb? as in — the person he likes is actually scared of him, and it broke a little part of him. however, he still has a scowl on his face and his expression unchanged.
"you have this big scowl every time i go around yuuji, and it intimidates me. so i just assumed that you hated me," sukuna blinked, brows furrowing slowly; the creases in between his brows deepening by the passing second.
"what? i assumed that you hated me." he replied, emphasizing on the 'me'. and this time you furrowed your brows, swallowing the bite of cookie you took before and wiping the crumbs off the corner of your lips in confusion.
"what? no, i don't. what? why would you even assume that?" you questioned him, now dropping your own pen onto the table, completely disregarding the project.
"why would i not? y'keep avoiding me like i'm a bad person, so i just assumed that you hated me." sukuna replies.
"i thought you hated me, because you look like you want to kill me every single time, so i just never talked to you, it was pretty scary." you retorted back, shaking your head, the cookie was now a decoration in between your fingers.
sukuna can't help but to chuckle, "so it was jus' our shitty assumptions?"
you hummed, "i guess so."
to say the least, sukuna felt like he was breathing again. yuuji was definitely right about all these assumption things — and he kept in mind that he'd praise the younger twin later (maybe). the sight of you eating a cookie in front of him made him feel a little overwhelmed, now that he got all the hard part done. he felt like he could talk with you now.
"then . . . can i get to know ya'?"
you narrowed your eyes at him, "really? no strings attached?" he raised both of his hands up in defense, shaking his head lightly, "why do you look like you want to kill me every single time then? are you plotting my murder? is this a trick?"
your questions made him pop out a light smirk, "so what if i am, huh?" he teased.
rolling your eyes, you shoved a hand out to him, "since we didn't start off in the right path, why don't we start over? i feel like this is the only appropriate way."
sukuna raised his hand up to engulf yours in his, feeling a light tingle in his chest as you squeezed his hand lightly, "i'm y/n l/n, just call me y/n. cool?"
the male scoffs, "cool. sukuna ryomen, it's only fair if you get to call me by my first name too, so . . . call me ryomen."
"ryo for short. that's your name now," sukuna arched a brow with an amused smile, nodding his head. internally doing a victory dance in his mind as he just got a nickname from you — and yuuji is just 'yuuji'.
a win for him today.
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"you're a little smiley today, did something happen between y/n and you earlier?" yuuji asks, pressing the pause button on his controller to face his brother who was laying down on the couch, the corner of his lips tugged upwards.
"i'm ryo now."
"ryo as in ryomen? i mean — that's your name, so? what are you implying?" sukuna stared at yuuji with a lighthearted smile. yuuji is somehow smart to catch up with these kind of things that it sometimes baffles sukuna, "oh, i get it. so, now you both are on first name basis?"
not even first name basis. this is a nickname that they gave me. sukuna sings in his mind, breathing out in content.
"it's a nickname. they gave it to me," yuuji cooed loudly, tossing his controller aside, "y'know . . . i was assuming they didn't like me, and they assumed it was the other way. they assumed i hated them because apparently i looked like i wanted to kill them?"
yuuji pointed his finger accusingly, "see? i was right!"
sukuna rolled his eyes, "that's the first time y'have ever been right, don't get ahead of yourself."
"so — when are you planning to confess to them, hm?"
a light kick to yuuji's side was enough to send him toppling over the couch, whining out in pain, "we just became friends, and y'think i should confess? that can wait," sukuna mumbles out.
sukuna was just delighted that his assumptions were unwarranted.
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© CHURIPU 2024 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE
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moondirti · 2 months
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pregnant diner waitress reader just has a dirtbag babydaddy, calling her and screaming the whole over the car and her being late.
honestly i hadn’t planned to have her baby daddy in the picture at all but the angst potential here… too tempting to pass up
PART 1 • PART 2
tags: simon x reader x johnny. darkfic. dirtbags. verbal abuse (not by ghost or soap). pregnant fem!reader who still hasn’t realised she’s being actively abducted.
It takes a bit to convince you to let them drive you home.
Your resistance is met with a paradoxical reaction by both men. On the one hand, there’s a warm comfort at the knowledge that you aren’t so easy to take advantage of. Even in your distraught state, you push back against every solution they propose. It is quite a detour, I’d hate to inconvenience you or I’m sure I can get a friend to come out instead. You’re wary, though your exhaustion sways you to assume the best of them, which means that you aren’t quite at the point of flat out refusal.
Otherwise, they – Simon, in particular – simmer in frustration. Red wine in a saucepan, reduced to a stronger version of itself over flame. Bitter. Strong. More insistent: cannae rest easy tonicht knowing we left an expecting hen tae fend fur herself. They poke at the knot until they find a loosening, tugging, tugging, then abandoning it once a more promising end appears.
Eventually, their combined efforts (though most of the credit can be attributed to the sincere, puppy dog look Johnny sports at all times. Hard to resist, even for Simon) dismantle your willpower. You duck your head in a modest thank you and shuffle behind them, seating yourself firmly behind the drivers seat even though you’re offered shotgun, hugging your bag over your belly.
“Do you need me to type in the address on google maps or something?” You say after they pull out of the parking lot.
“Y’were on about Adderford.” Simon meets your wide eyes in the rearview.
“Yeah.”
“Reckon I know the road.”
Simon does know the way, and so does Johnny. Adderford, off of exit A36. Near a polluted lake that was the victim of an attempt to turn the town into an industrial hub. Nothing to show for that, of course – all it has to offer now is a poor quality of life for all those who weren’t fortunate enough to get out.
Yeah. They know the way, and their confidence must set a precedent for the trip. Your anxious fidgeting stops after 10 minutes of driving, and you’re smiling at the nonsensical story coming from the passengers seat a mere 5 minutes later. In the meanwhile, your rationalisation is visible. Simon watches your gaze flicker back and forth between them, then around the car that must feel luxurious next to yours. If they wanted to do something bad to you, then they would’ve already done so. Besides, what kind of delinquents drive a wrangler?
30 minutes in, you’re fast asleep.
They really couldn’t have asked for a better turn of events.
They come up on exit A36 and stick to the middle lane, passing the little sign that points to Adderford being a couple miles out. Past the point of no return, beelining towards the secluded house they’ve made your new home, and you can be none the wiser. Johnny can’t believe their luck, babbling in a hushed voice about how nice it’ll when you to wake up in their bed.
The fantasy loses its grip when your phone rings, blaring from deep within your bag. Panic ripples across your face, jolting you from your sleep as you scramble for the device. The series of events unfolds in far too familiar a way for one of them. Simon – a buried torment wringing around his guts as he listens in.
“H-Hello? Shit. What–” You’re breathless, stuttering. Back to that scared little thing they found by her car, crying. “Please- please calm down.”
And though you try to keep your voice low, they leech on to every word you say. Someone on the other line yells, indistinct insults punching through the mic and landing. You wilt, tucking your lip underneath two teeth, waiting the anger out.
(Tommy donned the same expression those nights when things got bad. Simon remembers hugging him against his chest so he wouldn’t have to face the misery his brother’s countenance wrought.)
“You shouldn’t- I’m sorry, but I thought I c-changed the locks. You’re not allowed to be in… not in my apartment.” More yelling. Soap twists a fist, concoting a hundred different ways he can track whoever it is down. Make them pay for their abuse with their own tongue down their throat. “It’s none of your business- you left…”
“Easy.” Simon whispers to his partner.
“Si.”
“I know, boy.” Perhaps all too well. It gets harder to keep a firm steer over the wheel.
“Don’t accuse me of– my fucking car broke down! You shouldn’t even– fuck! Hello? Hello?” A low scream tears from your throat, prelude to the aggressive shoving of your phone down into back your bag. Trembling fingers press down over your eyes, rubbing until your tears soak into your skin. Ridding of the evidence to your dismay. You suck in large gulps of air, holding them in your chest until it aches, then gasp out equally hefty exhales.
No one speaks for a while. Then–
“I don’t think I should go home right now.”
Too broken for them to feel anything but overwhelming pity. Johnny clicks his tongue, looking over his shoulder so you can latch on to the sincerity that seems to calms you so.
“O’course. Whatever ye need, lass.”
Your frown softens “There’s a motel–”
“Next one’s farther ou’ than our place is. Can’t take you there and back m’fraid.” Simon interjects. Like a record scratch, or sandpaper on an already raw moment. It must make him an awful man to use your earlier propriety against you, but conviction has superseded his desire to act decently.
Sure enough, you visibly blanch, shaking your head and stumbling over your words.
“No! No, of course not. Of course- that was so silly of me to ask. You can, I mean… you can drop me off anywhere, really. I’ll sort t-things out for myself.”
“Not what I meant, pet.”
You don’t catch on. He doesn’t repeat.
Johnny bridges the gap.
“We’ve got a spare bedroom.”
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next part
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hi!! this is the same anon from earlier and i saw you wanted to write for james potter. and i’m so sorry if you’ve done something similar. so maybe after a quidditch match, win or loss, all james wants to do is lie and bed with reader and hug her. but they’re not dating and he ends up confessing too, still tired, he doesn’t even realize he’s admitted his feelings
thank you again for your time:))
-can i be ‘🎀 anon’? lolol
hi lovely 🎀! thanks for your sweet words and adorable requests 😊 i hope you like it!
pairing: James Potter x reader tags: fluffy fluff, some angst, gn reader if you want word count: 1.9k
Cuddles and Confessions
So close. So bloody close. And to bloody Slytherin to top it off? The defeat stung worse than any other James could remember. 
As he lumbers back up toward the castle after the match, frustrated and furious, some Slytherin fans jeer at him from across the lawns. It pushes him over an edge, and he turns to — well, he’s not sure to what; berate them? beat them up? — a strong hand grabs his shoulder and turns him back around.
“Easy, mate. They’re idiots but they’re not worth it,” Sirius says easily. Sirius of all people being the voice of reason has James realizing maybe he needs to calm down. 
James falling into step with Sirius without a word, the two make their way back up to the castle. 
When they get to the common room, it’s packed with mad and sad-looking Gryffindors consoling each other, complaining about bad calls, bad-mouthing the Slytherins: a typical post-match defeat. 
“Thank Godric,” Sirius sighs, heading immediately to a small table stacked with firewhisky. He grabs two glasses, but James stops him before he fills the second one.
“No thanks, mate. Don’t really feel like the company,” he says, scanning the room. He admits to himself there is one face that would have made him stay, one person whose company was actually the only thing he wanted right now. But he doesn’t see you. So he stalks off, bounding up the stairs to his currently empty dormitory. 
He’s lying on his bed, tossing a ball up and down when he hears a soft knock. 
“What?” he yells, the harshness of his voice even surprising him a bit. Surprise shifts to horror when your beautiful, blushing face peeks around the door. 
“Hi, Jamie,” you say shyly. “I’m sorry. Sirius said you wanted to be alone. I should’ve listened. I didn’t mean to annoy you. I’ll just —” 
“Wait, wait, wait,” he rushes, going over to you and pulling you into his room. “I’m so sorry, love. Please don’t go.” 
You smile a bit at this, looking down at your feet before nodding slightly. 
“Ugh, I’m a prick. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you.” His voice is soft now, warm and enveloping as you look into his pleading eyes. 
“It’s okay,” you chuckle. “I get it. Rough night, huh?” 
“Yeah,” he chuckles, smiling for the first time all day. You had a way of bringing that out in him. 
“Want a hug?” you offer. He nods immediately, internally cringing for being so uncool in front of you.
“Yes please,” he half laughs. 
You step close to him, and even this increased proximity has him reeling. He can’t wait to feel your warmth around him, to smell your hair as he nuzzles into you. 
He’d been hoping to win tonight’s match for more reasons than one. He hated Slytherin for starters. He loved winning for seconds. But also, he had been hoping a Gryffindor victory party could be the perfect place to finally tell you how he feels about you. Firewhisky flowing, adrenaline pumping, maybe he’d finally have the courage he was supposed to have as a Gryffindor and tell you the truth. 
You bring your arms up around his shoulders, pulling him close to you, bringing one hand to his messy hair and scratching comfortingly. James’s large body immediately melts into yours. He hums into the crook of your neck, and you giggle. 
“Thanks for coming to check on me,” he whispers into your shoulder, holding you close. 
“Why would I want to be downstairs wallowing with everyone else when I could wallow with you?” you tease, pulling back slightly to be face to face again. He hates how much he just wants to pull you back into him. 
“Oh, I’m much better company than those wankers,” he plays along. 
“Yes, I’m sure. Seems you’re quite chipper from your greeting.” 
He cringes and whispers “sorry” again. You shake your head quickly, wanting him to know you’re only teasing. 
The silence stretches a bit too long, neither of you knowing what to say. It’s especially awkward because your hands are still on his shoulders, his on your hips. 
“So what were you doing?” you ask, coming up with nothing better. 
“Just lying in bed, wallowing,” he confesses. 
“Sounds fun,” you chuckle. You break apart from him, the tension becoming too much and head over to his bed, plopping down onto it. He laughs and follows, sitting close next to you. “What do you want to do?” you ask, your voice low. “I came to cheer you up, but I think I’m doing a bang up job so far,” you chuckle, scrunching your nose. 
Before thinking about it, James brings his hand up to your face, lightly tracing his finger down your nose for you to relax it. 
“You’re not,” he says earnestly. “I’m already better, just having you here.” He thinks he feels your face warm where his hand still caresses it but pushes the idea down, not wanting it to be wishful thinking. 
“So what do you want to do?” you ask again gently.
“Honestly?” he asks shyly. Nervous was a weird look on him, usually so cocky. 
“Of course,” you giggle in your warmest tones, wanting him to be open with you, relishing in the intimacy you seemed to be building. 
“I want to keep lying in bed wallowing.” 
You stiffen immediately, chiding yourself for misreading his nerves. He wanted you to leave; that’s why he seemed shy. 
James sees — and feels — you tense at his words, and luckily for him, he realizes right away what you’re probably thinking. He continues before he can stop himself, dreading your leaving more than dreading saying something stupid. 
“With you,” he adds hastily. He feels himself blush, hates it, but pushes on. “I want to lie in bed and wallow… with you,” he repeats more softly. 
“Oh,” is all you can think to respond.
“I mean, just hang out, you know. I just… you just… I just like hanging out with you. And even just your hug made me feel better,” he rambles sweetly. 
You smile and pull away from him a bit. Before he can be disappointed, though, you’re pulling him with you as you shuffle further back onto the bed, lying down and bringing him horizontal with you by the shoulder. 
You’re lying next to each other, both tense, facing the ceiling, your sides grazing but nothing more. You look over at him, and he looks at you, and you both look away like idiots. 
You take a deep breath, reminding yourself he literally just told you he wanted to be here with you, clinging to that to give you the courage for what you were about to do. You turn toward him and bring your hand up to his hair. His eyes snap to yours. First they show shock but that quickly melts to adoration. Then they show nothing at all as they close in comforted bliss. You chuckle softly and see the corners of his mouth tug up at the sound. 
“Feels nice,” he whispers.
“Yeah?” you whisper too. He just nods. 
You shuffle closer to him, and he turns his body towards yours. Your arm is cramped now between your two close bodies, so you do the reasonable thing for comfort, you tell yourself, and wrap your arm under his shoulders. His face coming to the crook of your neck, you miss the huge smile that breaks out on it at the contact. 
He’s lying on your shoulder now, the rest of his body flush with yours. Your arm is around him, your hand coming up to continue playing with his hair. James brings his arm over you, hugging you close, and you place your arm on top of his. 
It crosses James’s mind that friends don’t cuddle. But he stops his internal monologue in time to savour the moment rather than over-analyse it, which he’s bound to do later.
You just lie there in silence for  a bit, the tension having eased considerably. 
In your warm, comfortable cocoon, you bring your face closer to the top of his head on your shoulder and nuzzle him a bit. He just hums in response. 
“You’re comfy,” he says. It sounds muffled, his mouth squished against your shoulder. You laugh, and it shakes him up and down the slightest bit. 
James loves the feeling of your vibrating chest just below him. He can’t help himself and tickles you where his hand rests near your ribcage. You laugh louder. You hold down his arm to stop him and playfully shake him off a bit to protect yourself from more tickling. His grip tightens in response, and he’s almost on top of you by the time he’s done adjusting himself. 
“No, no, don’t go,” he chuckles. “I’ll stop.” 
Your laughter has mostly subsided, but your voice is raspy as you respond, “Promise?” He nods into your shoulder. “Fine. I’ll stay if you behave.” 
He laughs, squeezes you, whispers, “Promise.”
Any tension that had been left has dissipated completely, and you fall into easy chat as you hold each other close. Your hand continues playing with his hair, tugging it when he says something stupid. His arm draped over you occasionally squeezing you more tightly whenever either of you says something nice. You go over the highlights of the match, lamenting the result. Without realizing it, you start talking about any and everything else, and by the time the conversation lulls for the first time, both of you chuckling lightly, James wonder how much time has gone by. Not enough, he thinks to himself, wishing this would go on forever. 
The quiet, your hand in his hair, your warmth radiating around his body, it all soothes him into a half slumber. It washes over him how exhausted his body is from the match, how tense it had been from the fury at its result.
“This is nice,” he slurs. 
“Mmhmm,” you hum. 
“I’m not even mad anymore.” He sounds astounded even in his sleepy tones. You chuckle. 
“Good.” 
“Mmmm. We’ll prank the Slytherins tomorrow. And I’ll think of another time to tell you how I feel.” Your hand halts its motions. James is still completely relaxed, and you realize he’s pretty much half asleep, not truly realizing what he’s saying.
You don’t want to take advantage of him in this state, but you want to be honest with him too, and he clearly wanted to talk to you about whatever this was. 
So, you warmly whisper, “How do you feel, Jamie?”
“I love you,” he mumbles. You’re melting at his words, and you can’t wait till tomorrow to say them back. You shift your weight so you’re more facing James than under him, and this rattles him a bit more awake. His drowsy eyes are heavy initially but then they startle slightly. Before he can worry or regret, you hold his face gently in both your hands, your thumbs caressing his cheeks. 
“James…” He just looks deeply into your eyes, his eyebrows furrowed, not saying anything. “I love you, too.” 
His face shifts as if in slow motion. His eyebrows rise; his lips smile widely; his eyes crinkle.
“You love me?” He sounds equal parts giddy and disbelieving. 
“Yeah, I love you, you grump.” He chuckles. “You love me?” you echo.
He takes his time responding. Scanning your features adoringly. Eventually, finally, calmly and assuredly he says again, “I love you,” nodding as he closes the little distance between you. 
Your kiss is slightly awkward at first, your lips smiling automatically at his words before realizing they’re being called on to take on new, intoxicating shapes. 
761 notes · View notes
notjustjavierpena · 4 months
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Mouthful
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Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost
A/N: Made with the help from my loveliest @strang3lov3 with a talk about men conking out after cumming and how Hubby Javier still hasn’t gotten his dick sucked. So to all the girlies who want to give your fictional husband a blowjob, this one is for you.
Summary: Javier is starting to come down with the flu but he just simply won’t lie down to have some rest. You have a trick that never fails.
Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader/You (No y/n)
Tags: +18 smut, husband!javier, domestic life, sickfic, Inés is a menace, Javier is a stubborn man, ❤️ JAVIER HAS A DAD BOD!!!!!!! ❤️, blowjob, deep-throating, mouth-fucking, praise, dirty talk, cum-swallowing,
Word count: 2.8k
Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/52856839
Mouthful
You hear the clink of plates being lifted out of the dishwasher, the sound of Sebastian crying, stuttering sobs as he is bounced, and Inés going on about something that happened in preschool. Javier is barely listening, replying with half-sentences that seem to make his daughter more frustrated with her father not paying attention and eventually leading to her talking louder. 
The idea of what will meet you in the kitchen is enough to make you want to flee to the bedroom, enough to make you want to pretend that you haven’t heard them during an extended nap. However, you could never bring yourself to let Javier go through the hell of late afternoons with children alone.
“Look who’s up,” he says with a desperate smile as you enter the room, twisting his whole body to make his crying son spot his mother. As soon as Sebastian’s eyes gaze upon you, his wails die down and they stop completely the moment you take him from Javier’s arms. 
“Mom! Guess what happened today at school,” Inés interrupts just as you are about to say something. She speaks loudly, and you automatically reach up to cover Sebastian’s ear that isn’t pressed into your shoulder. 
“Inés, indoor voices,” Javier finally manages to say, reaching up to rub his temples, “Shhh…”
“Sorry,” she makes a face, not completely convinced. 
“What happened at school?” You ask but instead of looking at her, you find yourself staring at your husband who looks like absolute hell, glassy eyes and exhaustion radiating from him. Inés giggles as she tells a joke that isn’t really a joke, too lost in her story to notice that you aren’t really listening. 
Javier places a hand on the kitchen table, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. His shirt is crumpled, his eyes have dark circles and you don’t actually think that he has even noticed that he is sniffling every other moment. He sighs deeply, breathing mostly through his mouth as he does it, and then goes back to emptying the dishwasher.
“Are you okay, honey?” You ask him, stopping midway to shush Inés who doesn’t look pleased, “You look under the weather. Are you feeling okay?” 
There’s an almost offended nature in Javier’s reply. He doesn’t stop what he is doing, sorting through the cutlery, “What? No, yeah. Estoy bien, mi amor (I’m fine, my love). Just need to get this done.”
“And then what?” You ask with a raised eyebrow. 
“And then I’ll get started on dinner,” he tells you with a tired smile that isn’t very convincing. 
“You look like… m i e r d a (shit), and you probably feel it too. I was sick last week,” you spell out the dirty word, using the Spanish word because the English is short enough to make Inés guess what you are saying. 
“Mom,” Inés predictably complains. 
“I’m fine. I just need 20 minutes where no one comes near me,” he says with exasperation. He finishes up the bottom drawer of the dishwasher and goes to pull out the top one. You find yourself laying a hand on top of his, stopping him in his tracks.
“Javi,” you say softly. 
“What?” He grumbles.
“I can finish up here. I’ll cook dinner,” you tread lightly, knowing that he hates being babied by you. Him not pulling his weight is a common fight that the two of you have had, and he probably feels on edge when you ask him not to help out with the kids. 
“I can do it,” he snaps but suddenly sneezes, and it ends up making his nose prickle enough to cause his eyes to water. 
“Go do something else, laundry maybe. I’ll do this,” you say a little more firmly, strategically sending him to your bedroom to make him spot your bed and have some well-earned rest, “It’s really not a problem, and you know I hate doing laundry anyway.”
“Fine,” he holds his hands up in surrender. 
“I love you,” you say in a sing-song voice as he leaves the kitchen, “Go have your 20 minutes.”
Inés looks longingly after her father but you manage to distract her with a snack before she runs after him. You run your free hand over her hair as she eats a peanut butter sandwich, Sebastian cooing happily on your hip as he has been allowed to chew on a banana.
“Do you want to watch cartoons before dinner?” You ask, “Give Mommy some time to get things done in the kitchen, and then I can hear all about school while we eat?”
“Fine,” she parrots her dad, holding up her hands as well and running off to the living room. You follow her, setting Sebastian down in his playpen and turning on the baby monitor. Then you turn on the TV, adjust the volume, and let Inés busy herself by singing along to her favorite theme song. 
You finish emptying the dishwasher, cut vegetables, and throw them into the slow cooker with other ingredients, and after you check on both of your kids, you realize there’s some spare time before you have to pick Lucas up from his play date. 
You decide to go upstairs to do another round of laundry, but when you cannot find the laundry basket, you go to your bedroom. Javier must have taken it when folding clothes. 
“Jesus, why are you not resting? I sent you here so you’d eventually nap,” you groan as you enter the bedroom and see Javier putting his shirts on hangers. 
“I told you I’m fine,” he seems even more sick at this point, nose slightly congested and causing him to speak nasally, “I can do this.”
You walk up to him to yank a clothing hanger out of his hands and throw it onto the floor, receiving a glare in response. Javier doesn’t look pleased with your behavior, but you don’t find his stubborn attitude charming either. 
“Javier F. Peña,” you tut, “Just go lie down and trust that your wife has everything under control. It’s what a lot of husbands do, you know.”
“Well, wife, I don’t need your permission to do housework,” he tries to push past you but you catch him in a disarming embrace, giggling as he tries bending down to pick you up so he can move you out of his way. You avoid his efforts, catching him by the wrists when he straightens once more, and push him back towards the bed. 
“You need rest, husband,” you shove him when the back of his knees hit the edge of the bed, and he lets himself fall down into the mattress, bouncing slightly as it connects with his back. 
“I don’t need a nap, I’m not a child,” he groans dramatically. 
“Then stop acting like one,” you pull the baby monitor out of your pocket and place it on the nightstand. When Javier tries to sit up again, you snap your fingers and point at him, “Nuh-uh, lie down.” 
It makes you realize that you need to use alternative methods to get him to obey; he simply won’t do as he has been told, and if anyone is ever in doubt about where Inés gets her stubbornness from, you’ll simply glance over at her father to answer the question. 
“What if I treat you to something special?” You ask with a little smirk, moving to the end of the bed so you can proceed to crawl onto him. You sit on his legs, “Think that’ll make you relax?”
You already know the answer to that question. He looks ready to conk out. 
“I’m actually fine, I don’t need—“
“I know, Javi,” you reply. Your fingers find his crumpled shirt and you pull it out of his jeans, shoving it up over his stomach so you can access his belt, watching your husband twitch underneath you at the sound of the buckle clinking as you undo it. 
He lifts his head to watch as you tug down his jeans and underwear, “Just so you know, I’m not sleeping after this. I have to—“
“I know, Javi,” you repeat, bending down to nuzzle your nose against his soft stomach. His cock lays flaccid against his thigh, but you pull it out from underneath the waistband of his briefs to lay it against his tummy so you can skim your palm up and down the shaft. His soft cock slowly comes alive underneath your touch, and soon you can wrap your fist around him to stroke him till he stands completely erect. 
Below you, Javier groans when you press a kiss to his belly, “And I have to get the laundry done.” 
“Whatever you say, baby, let me take care of you and I’ll let you do as much laundry as you want,” you hum against his skin, relishing in his warmth and his so-called dad-body - the last year has blessed you with Javier getting a little softer to the touch - that you nuzzle up to at every opportunity you get. 
Javier isn’t a fan of himself growing soft around the middle but you savor it every time you get to see that bit of pudge strain against his usual jeans (which he refuses to buy in a bigger size). If you thought he was gorgeous when his muscles were toned and his body looked younger, you had not been prepared for how good he looks now that he is older, rounder, and getting comfortable. His arms are still deliciously strong; an overwhelmingly sexy result of still carrying Inés around everywhere, picking her up from the ground if she has a tantrum at the grocery store. 
“God, you’re so sexy,” you pinch his stomach to earn a little noise. Javier says your name in disapproval but you just look up at him with a smile, grabbing more of his pudge before biting into it and kissing it afterward, “Let your wife have her fun.”
Javier is just about to say something - you don’t know whether it is about his body, the lack of a blowjob, or laundry once more - but you know it’s more complaining and so you cut him off by running the flat of your tongue from base to tip of his cock. He tastes like salt. If you had the time, you would not finish until his scent and taste were everywhere on you. In your clothes, etched into your skin, and on your tongue. 
“Oh shi—“ he gasps, resting the back of his head on the mattress once more. He breathes deeply in through his mouth, nose still stuffed, and stares at the ceiling as you work your tongue up and down his shaft only to follow the wet trail with your nose.
When you reach his cockhead a third time, you suckle on the very tip to rid him of the pearl of precome that has accumulated at the slit and is threatening to slide down (you want to treat yourself to it before it does). Above you, Javier moans at feeling your mouth, not your tongue, properly for the first time. 
“Fucking hell, baby, gotta admit that I didn’t see this coming,” he half-chuckles, half-groans.
“Maybe I just wanted to shut you up for a moment. You are stubborn, you know,” you pull back to talk, look up at him, and nuzzle needily at his cock. He looks down at you but you simply smile, “I looove you for that though, not annoying at all.”
You follow your little snarky remark up with a press of your lips to the underside of his shaft, using a hot open-mouthed kiss to cut off whatever offense he might take from your teasing. He doesn’t even seem to register it after feeling your mouth on himself again. 
Then you let saliva gather in your mouth before spitting directly onto the head, using your hand to smear it down his length by stroking him a few times. You lean over him and bring your mouth down over his girth, no teasing or anything, until the thick head hits the back of your mouth. 
“Fuuuck, and then up again,” he groans, a strong hand reaching for whatever he can grab of you. His fingers curl around your shoulder, moving inwards until they dig into the back of your neck. Slowly, you drag your lips all the way off of him again. 
Javier makes a sound when you pull off but it quickly turns into a whimper as you let more saliva drip down. You smear this too, swirling your sinful tongue around the tip and occasionally licking like were you eating a popsicle on a summer’s day. 
You can feel him pulse against your lips, so you show mercy and let him into your mouth again. He is hot and heavy on your tongue and a moaning mess above you, nails starting to dig into your skin. 
You start bobbing your head, hand on the base of Javier’s cock to hold his generous size in place. When he bumps against your throat for the first time and thus makes you gag the first time, he lets out a sound that you can never get enough of and it causes your cunt to throb between your legs. 
“Who would think that a pretty girl sucks cock like that? Oh, fuck… I love you, just like that—” he talks in a way that makes you think he might not even be aware of what he is saying but is simply letting his mouth run, “Suck that cock, baby. Good fucking girl, married the right one, didn’t I?”
You hum in reply and he growls at the vibrations of your voice. The pride you feel is indescribable, and so you seek out his approval once again by moaning as you taste him. Even if it results in your eyelashes dampening from Javier pushing his hips upwards, you lean further down and force yourself to relax your throat. 
He slides into the tight space at the back of your throat and his hand flies to the top of your head. He fists your hair desperately when you gulp around him and make your throat spasm, tugging at your follicles to the point where tears slide down your face. Soon, they also mix with the spit coating his cock.
You swallow around him again. Javier holds your head with both hands now, “Can I - Christ - can I fuck this gorgeous mouth? Por favor (please), baby.”
Even if it is hurting a little, you nod the best you can because Javier’s groan as he starts thrusting his hips upward is worth any ache in your body. Your thighs flutter, your clit pulses. 
Both his hands gather your hair in a makeshift ponytail. He uses it to move your head as he pleases, makes you bob on his dick until you gag wetly with every other thrust of his hips. Every time he bucks his hips, his thigh muscles flex and your nose buries itself in his happy trail. 
“You gonna take it?” He rasps, chest heaving. He is nearly there, muscles in his whole body twitching as he slowly loses control over himself when pleasure is so close. The next thrusts are maddening and you can’t blink any tears away even if you tried, “Fuck, swallow, baby. Take my come.”
You look up at him through your wet lashes and hum a mhm, confirming. Yes, yes, yes, give it to me.
You know he is peaking when his breath stops. He holds it during the last thrusts, finally letting out a loud moan as he finishes and sucks in a deep breath afterward. 
His cock spurts in the next moment. You can feel it hit the back of your sore throat, warm and salty, in several pulses and automatically, you swallow hungrily around his girth. The action makes him groan weakly and his hips stutter until he finally needs to let go of you. His arms lie flat along his side.
“Holy fuck, baby,” he sighs contentedly when you pull off, “Fuck, I don’t even know what to say.”
“Don’t say anything, Daddy,” you tease, and then you treat the sensitive head of his cock to a few innocent kitten-licks, essentially cleaning him up until he softens. 
He whimpers when it becomes too much, and so you pull off to kiss him along his stomach. You can hear his breathing changing, turning into something less erratic. 
“You okay?” You eventually ask but receive no reply. You look up. 
As predicted, Javier snores. You smile to yourself as you push yourself away from him, careful not to wake him up as you pull his briefs and jeans up again, leaving the latter unbuttoned. 
“Javier Peña, the most stubborn man on the planet has a weakness,” you whisper and shake your head with a fond smile. 
You grab the baby monitor from the nightstand and leave him to sleep, knowing he’ll wake up feeling a lot more sick and, hopefully, a lot more cooperative. You bring him a glass of water and some Tylenol to wake up to, write a note for him about how much you adore him, and that you’ll take care of everything. He needs it. 
.
.
.
FOLLOW @notjustjavierpena-fics AND TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS 💖❤️💖❤️
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belliesy · 1 year
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MINE. miguel o’hara x reader
✿ tags. afab reader, dubcon, exes to lovers, reader knows about miguel being spiderman, kinda guilt tripping, he not wearing his suit, porn with some plot, rough sex, degradation, blowjobs, deepthroating,face fucking, facials, squirting, full nelson, size difference, unprotected sex
✿ synopsis. miguel shows up to your apartment bruised and bloody and convinces you to help him // not proofread
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You wake up to pounding on the door.
2:06 am
‘Who the hell is here at 2 in the morning?’
You curse at yourself as you roll out of bed, rubbing your eyes and shuffling through the living room to the door. The knocking slowly stops as the person on the other side must have heard you coming, you put your eye to the peep hole and see your ex. “Miguel?” You ask through the door, “baby, please let me in.” Miguel begs through the door. You roll your eyes and notice the blood and bruises littering your exes face, shaking your head you open the door slowly. Cursing at yourself again for so easily letting him in.
You step back as Miguels large frame enters, “Well?” You interrogate, “what do you want?”
“I just need you to help me.. y’know.” Miguel responds, he looks embarrassed but you know that he doesn’t really need the help. This is just another excuse to see you.
“Fine, sit on the couch.” You sigh, “Your leaving once I’m done”. Miguel nods as you get what you need and sits on the couch.
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“There, all better” you say, crumpling the bandaid wrappers into your hand and throwing them onto the coffee table. “Thank you, baby” Miguel takes your hand and kisses the inside of it. You quickly pull it away from his lips.
“What?” Miguel asks innocently. “I’m being grateful for your help”. You roll your eyes and begin to stand up, “you can get out now”. Miguel grabs your arm, “wait, wait, I still need help with something”. Miguels eyes go to tent in his pants.
“No, Miguel, you can do that yourself, now leave.” You pull from his grab and stand up again, this time grabbing his arm and pulling him up. “Please, cariño, I know you miss me, how good I would fuck you.” Miguel steps closer to you, backing you into a wall, his knuckles drag across your face before going to your shoulder, pushing down.
You hate this and him. Hate how bad you miss him and how he fucked you, missed everything about his dick, how it felt in you, how good choking on it was like. You shame yourself on how easily your giving into everything. “Fine, this is never happening again though”. You lower yourself more to the point where your on your knees.
You unbuckle his pants and pull them and his boxers down enough to where his cock springs out. “Fuck, always looked so good on your knees for me.” Miguel grunts as your cold hand slowly starts stroking it. Your mouth goes to suck on his tip and Miguel flinches. “I could never find anyone as good as you,” he moans, “should have never let you go.”
You smirk to yourself and lower your mouth on him, moving your hand down to continue jerking him. Miguel is already moaning and whimpering for you, he feels hot in your mouth, he’s throbbing and probably almost ready to cum from the lack of sex in what feels like forever to him. You decide to tease him, your mouth comes off his dick with a pop. “Probably couldn’t cum from any other girl.” You look up innocently at him, “needed me? Missed me so much you had to come here?” you smile and watch as Miguels hips thrust into your hand. You look back at his cock and rub your thumb over the tip. “Don’t tease me, baby.” He moans throwing his head back. You begin to laugh before Miguel is grabbing your head and slamming you down on his dick.
You choke and your eyes water. You’ve missed how he fills your throat, fucking it like you were nothing. You moan and hum around it, driving him crazy and making his hips fuck your face faster.
“Don’t act like you don’t fuck yourself stupid thinking about me fucking your tight cunt, ah- you fucking, whore.” He looks down at your face, “but yeah, I would be lying if I said I didn’t miss you”. He pulls out of your mouth, still grabbing your hair and starts jerking himself off. You sit patiently and with your tongue out, waiting for him to spill all over you.
When Miguel cums he’s moaning and throwing his head back. His cum is warm and splashes your tongue and face, coating it a pretty white. He looks back down, watching you swallow what landed in your mouth. “Good girl, didn’t even need me to tell you”.
Miguel quickly pulls you up, flipping you around. He stands behind you and with no prep shoves it into your tight hole. “Mm, fuck, Miguel.. !” You cry out, “sorry, thought how wet you were would be enough.” He fakes sympathy and starts with slow lazy thrusts.
You throw your head back again as he lifts your hips, moving his arm under your knees, your legs bent. You face is hot with embarrassment as he pounds into your wide, spread legs. You feel so exposed but the angle his hips fuck into you feel so good. It already has you going stupid. “Missed this pussy so much,” Miguel grunts. You babbling too now, “I missed you so much, missed how good you fuck me, please don’t stop!” You cry, head thrown back into Miguels shoulder. “Don’t worry, princess, I’m gonna fill this pussy up”. He reassures while reaching deep inside of you.
You feel him move from hooking your legs under both arms to just one. He rubs your clit with his free arm, your screaming from how good it is. Your cunt throbs around him, making him mumble degrading comments to you. Making you grow wetter and so much closer to your climax.
Miguels thrusts stop and he buries himself into you, you feel his cum fill you up. His hand continues rubbing your clit and your soon squirting around him, squeezing him so tight. Your both moaning, overstimulated messes. Your body shakes and twitches, his cock is throbbing inside of you. He lets your legs down slowly, him still inside of you. His body is leaning on you, pushing your bodies against the wall to lean against as you catch you breathe.
Miguel wraps his hands around your waist. “So how about a date this weekend?”
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notes - .. im so tired rn so this one was kinda lazy
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povlnfour · 6 months
Text
ੈ✩‧₊˚ PADDOCK TO PADDOCK (LN) PART 8
series masterlist | previous part
lando norris x fem!horse rider!reader
landonorris just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚
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landonorris 100th race, p2, and a nice little call with my girl to show off her flexibility. thank you austin
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user3 ‘MY GIRL’🥹🥹🥹
user7 I KNEWWW EVERYTHING WOULD BE OKAY
user9 lando have you seen what she’s done?
landonorris have friends? yeah pretty happy for her tbh
charles_leclerc p2 because the fia hates lewis and me*
user2 see everyone the boys are fine
landonorris keep crying mate
yourusername i actually hate you so bad rn
yourusername @/charles_leclerc SURE you don’t wanna date me instead?
user1 HELP Y/N AJDJDJSJ
user6 she said i’ve had ENOUGH
charles_leclerc make me that rice dish again and i’ll consider it
landonorris @/charles_leclerc you don’t even know what tteokbokki is called you don’t deserve her😤
yourusername just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚
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yourusername from monaco with love
👤 tagged alex_albon, lilymhe, charles_leclerc
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alex_albon we need to have a serious conversation about how cute lily always looks in the photos you take and yet…. me…
lilymhe that’s just your face baby
charles_leclerc he’s not gonna know what hit him🤫
yourusername you could not have made this sound worse
charles_leclerc i’m quite enjoying being an accessory to internet drama
lilymhe do you know what’s rude? you spend one (1) second with a man and get a dating rumour… yet NOTHING when you hang w me!
yourusername FR we’ve been married for two years atp🙄
landonorris i know a Better place in monaco you can visit🧡
yourusername get your cute butt home and show me then
texts with charles ੈ✩‧₊˚
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y/nupdates just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚
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y/nupdates y/n at the airport today!! it seems she’s flying out to mexico for the upcoming grand prix 🩷
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user9 seriously? has everyone just forgotten she’s a cheater?
user3 and yet you follow fan accounts of her??? get a life
user7 ur actually miserable. lando hates u.
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y/nupdates any unnecessary hate comments will be deleted and you will be blocked🩷
user8 she’s so pretty even in the rain :( and she stopped to take photos with fans
user1 apparently someone gave her a necklace with an L on it and she put it straight on🥹
user8 @/user1 YOURE KIDDING THATS SO CUTE IM GONNA CRY
user1 THEY GAVE HER A MATCHING BRACELET FOR LANDO WITH HER INITIALS ON AS WELL!!!!
landonorris thank you admin for giving me a new lockscreen
user2 OH MY GOD ADMIN
y/nupdates 🫣🫣🫣🫣🫣 YOU ARE SO WELCOME
landonorris just tweeted ੈ✩‧₊˚
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tweet 4 should finish: hate towards those close to me*
tweet 6 should finish: blocked by my team**
twitter reacts ੈ✩‧₊˚
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mclaren from p17-p5. not the start to the weekend he wanted but he only went and turned it around🙌🏻
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user2 SO PROUDDDS
user9 all because of her….
user3 HAVE FUN GETTING BLOCKED LMAO
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user6 GUYS I THINK MCLAREN ACTUALLY BLOCKED THEM THE COMMENT ISNT SHOWING UP FOR ME LMAOOO
yourusername that’s my boy
mclaren we heard it had something to do with his lucky charm😉
user3 this isn’t taking a week off ma’am
yourusername had to support the boy. it starts now <3
y/nupdates just tweeted ੈ✩‧₊˚
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a/n:
OKAY this part was boring i am very sorry BUT there is onE OFFICIAL PART LEFT. it’ll be a long one i warn now but then there may be a mini epilogue of stuff i fully made up for next summer xxxx
thank you all for coming on this crazy ride with me — sorry it’s aLL OVER THE PLACE atm but it makes sense in my head ok
charles au is also otw next week and a one shot lando smau
taglist (found in pinned post): @idkiwantchocolatee @vellicoranorca @alessioayla @bborra @crimeshowjunkie @minkyungseokie @paolexsstuff @celestialpato @champagnelovers101 @loxbbg @hobiismyhopeu @tsukishitm-a @moonypixel @champagneproblems17 @ironmaiden1313 @lqvesoph @sunflower-golden-vol6 @six-call
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runningfrom2am · 6 months
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leveling the playing field II
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summary: you didn't meet the requirements for the plinth prize, only to find out that you're not just missing out on that- you're missing out on the opportunity of a lifetime. your friend wants to help, because maybe you can help each other.
pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader
wc: 2.8k
tags/warnings: capitol brat!reader, maybe slightly ooc coryo, idk i tried my best. do they love each other or hate each other? who knows. also someone dies (but its not too graphic), mentions of blood and violence you guys get the vibes.
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a/n: embarrassed to say this is grabbing me by the cuff of my shirt and yanking me out of writer's block sorry to everyone who followed for drew's characters lmao. anyway idek if any of this is any good but as long as i'm writing something i'm pleased.
next part
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Coriolanus clenched his jaw as he watched you eat from the plate of fruit your maid brought up after you called for tea, hoping that somehow you would just miss the sound of his stomach growling. He had said no, but you insisted because you were hungry. You don't even know what hungry feels like- he's already regretting letting you help him.
"So," You start, covering your mouth as you finish chewing so you could get down to strategy. If you were going to help, you had to go at this wisely. "What is your plan? Lay it out for me. I'll give you my thoughts."
"I talked to Tigris, she agreed that I need to get Lucy Gray to trust me." He tells you. "She said she would want someone here to care about her. That will have to be me."
"Okay." You nod, reaching for another slice of apple on the plate, trying to ignore the way his eyes track the fruit all the way from your plate to your lips. "So, I'm doing a more behind-the-scenes thing. I think that's better, for us and her. I don't want her to be overwhelmed."
"Yeah." Coryo agrees, staring at you. At this point, it's driving you crazy.
"Coryo." You state, pushing the dish across the coffee table in his direction. "Eat. Please."
"No, I couldn't." He tries to politely decline and you raise an eyebrow at him.
"I insist. It was made for two, I can't possibly stomach it all. It would be a shame for it to go to waste." You had laid your cards out just minutes earlier, making it clear you both knew more about each other's home lives than you cared to discuss, but that didn't mean you would torture him with it.
He hesitates before grabbing a slice and taking a few bites, looking past you and out the window. He wouldn't want it to go to waste like you said, after all.
"I won't tell anyone, you know." You say, your tone walking a line between joking and being serious. He'll interpret that in whatever way he chooses, and you're okay with that.
"I should be going, actually." He says, dropping the other half of the apple slice back onto the dish and standing up, smoothing the creases in his slacks.
You stand up as well, making your way to the door and ringing the bell that summons your maid. "I'll walk you out, just give me a second." You explain to him, and by the time you're done your sentence, she is there looking at you expectantly. "Take these leftovers and pack them up for my friend." You tell her, pointing to the mostly full plate. "And pack some of those pastries you made for his family as well, if you don't mind. Oh! And that bread, it will go bad soon if someone doesn't eat it." She just nods silently as you speak, walking past you to take the plate before leaving.
"Thank you." Coriolanus mutters through gritted teeth once your maid is out of earshot.
"Like I said," You smile. "I don't want it to go to waste."
The morning the tributes arrived, Coriolanus was late to class. He had never been late to class, not once, and you would know- because you hadn't either. Not that you were worried, but it was almost the only thing you could think about. It was odd, but he must have gone to greet Lucy Gray. That would be the only thing that made sense.
"Your little excursion is in violation of about five Academy rules, Mister Snow." Dean Highbottom says as the blonde boy walks in, uniform disheveled as he finds his seat across the room from you.
You make eye contact only briefly with him as the Dean goes on about how endangering the life of a student is against the rules, and your friend would be accumulating a demerit over the whole thing.
From what you can gather, he did go see Lucy Gray, which went farther than he intended when he ended up escorting her all the way into the monkey cage at the zoo. To you, that was comically appropriate. To Sejanus, it was a crime. Of course it was, his heart never left District Two. As much as you had your differences, Sejanus was a kind boy. You did like him, only after you got it through your mind that if you were to leave the Capitol, you would always be Capitol at heart. You're pulling on a loose string on the hem of your uniform sleeve, more, more, until you've almost undone the whole length of your wrist. When the thread breaks you want to hit something, for little to no reason, and you bite into your bottom lip.
You don't even know why you're so mad. You have a short fuse and you know that, maybe it's about Coryo. Maybe it's about your sleeve that's now slightly longer on one side.
You're drawn from your thoughts as Clemensia stands up from her seat next to Coryo, addressing Dr. Gaul who, as far as you know, had only been in the room for a minute or so. "Coriolanus and I do all our assignments together, I think it would be fitting for us to write up the proposal together too. I have some good ideas for things to be incorporated into the games along with betting." Your eyes roll so hard at this that it makes your head ache.
"I brought her a rose from Grandma'am's garden and she ate it. She needs food." Coryo tells you, walking alongside you down the hall.
"I'll get something together for her. Would you like to come with me to pick it up and then we can go to the zoo?" You ask, adjusting your shoulder bag as he holds the front door open for you.
"Okay. Are you sure you should come?"
"If you would like me to." You shrug, leading him in the direction of your parent's town car.
He thinks on it for a moment. Does he want you to meet Lucy Gray? You were technically also her mentor, even if you were taking a backseat. It struck him again, harder somehow, when he met her in person how similar she was to you. Besides the distinct accent, every word that came out of her mouth sounded as though it could have been written in a script by you. If you were district, that is. It was hard to wrap his mind around.
"I would." He finally answers, more so on impulse than resulting from his thought process.
You smile, linking your arm around his as you approach the vehicle.
"Then we can drop you at Clem's. if you'd like." You offer bitterly and he just gives a curt nod in response.
After getting your maid to pack some food for Lucy Gray with some extra for the two of you, assuming you would be gone for the evening, you got a ride to the zoo. The atmosphere was exciting, with people and children crowding the bars- this time including a few of your classmates. Sejanus, which you had expected, and Arachne- no doubt there to get attention.
"Lucy Gray!" Coryo called out, summoning the girl toward the two of you as you approached the bars marking the edge of the enclosure.
"Well hello, Coriolanus. You brought a friend, care to introduce us?" She smiles, looking between the two of you. Admittedly, you admire her poise, given the situation. Politeness in front of the cameras was a must- she's doing an exemplary job in humanizing herself.
"Lucy Gray, this is my friend Y/N Y/L/N. Y/N, meet Lucy Gray." He nods between the two of you and you reach through the bars to shake her hand.
"Hello. Pleasure to meet you." You smile at her, which she returns.
"You as well." She nods, clearly impressed as she looks between you and Coryo. You had decided back at your home to not introduce yourself as another mentor, just as a friend, after gushing the reaction to the other tributes thinking Lucy Gray was getting special treatment this morning when her mentor was the only one to show up. "Coriolanus, is Miss Y/L/N here your sweetheart?"
His face flushes red as he shakes his head, refusing to look at you. You laugh, not noticing his change in undertone as you answer for him. "No, no. Just a friend." You explain, digging in your bag for her food, wanting to quickly change the subject. "We brought you this." You hold out the napkin for her, containing a sandwich, a couple of desserts, and some plums.
"Oh wow, thank you!" Lucy Gray smiles, accepting it gratefully. "Hey, Jessup! Come eat." She calls out to the other tribute from her district, who you remember was assigned to Lysistrata Vickers.
He comes over, but doesn't acknowledge either of you as Lucy Gray holds out one of the dessert bars to him. "I'm not hungry."
"It won't do you any good to starve now. You need your energy." Lucy Gray insists, practically shoving it into his hand.
"I hope you like blueberry." You cut in. "It's a blueberry biscuit with pistachio filling. Made fresh this morning- I promise it's good."
He doesn't say anything, taking it and retreating to the rock he was previously sitting on to eat.
"Will you be sharing everything with him?" Coryo asks her quietly as he walks away.
"Why? So I can keep my energy up enough to strangle him? I don't think that will matter much in a few days."
"You can't trust anyone once the games start, so why trust them now?" You reply quietly, scanning over the other tributes, eyes landing on Arachne taunting her tribute. Of course she would- her arrogance never fails to impress you.
"Your friend over there seems just lovely." Lucy Gray says sarcastically, eyes following yours as you watch your classmate.
"Not our friend." You and Coryo respond at the same time.
"She's poison with perfect teeth." He continues and you nod.
"One thing I learned in twelve is that hunger is a weapon." Lucy Gray says. You're not sure what she means, but you nod anyway.
"Here, let's sit." You suggest, changing the subject as you crouch down to lay out a cloth on the ground to place the food on.
As you're laying it out carefully between the bars for Lucy Gray, you can feel Coryo's eyes burning into the backs of your hands. Lucy Gray notices this too, handing him a cookie from the pile.
"No, I couldn't." His default response. "You need it more than me."
"You were staring. Here, we'll share." She insists and he takes it gratefully, breaking off a piece and placing it in his mouth.
"Here..." You mumble, digging through your bag again and pulling out the glass container designated for his dinner. You place it in his lap, not giving him the chance to turn it down. "Packed it just for you."
He takes it off his lap, tensely getting up. "I'll be back in a moment." He tells you both, red uniform disappearing behind the small crowd.
"You can see it too?" Lucy Gray asks you, nibbling on half of a sandwich.
You nod slightly, eyes still trying to track him to see where he went, then landing on him talking to Sejanus who's desperately trying to get his tribute, Marcus, to eat some of the food he brought.
"He's quite sensitive about it." You explain. "I appreciate you being kind to him. No one else knows... I think. Regardless, you are very important to him."
She nods a little bit, watching you watch your friend. "Are you just buttering me up?" She jokes and you shake your head, returning your attention to the girl across from you.
"No, I mean it. It's more than the prize for us." You state. "Him." You quickly correct yourself. "I just want to help however I can, if you need anything else just ask, but I'll bring food every day. Or I'll send it with Coryo."
"Coryo, huh?"
"Well, yes. We've been friends for years."
"I see." Lucy Gray nods, both of you watching him make his way back over. You lift up his container of food and hand it to him before he even has the chance to sit down.
"What about you, Lucy Gray? Any friends back home? Family?" You ask, looking away from him as he sits. You want him to eat, but you know he would loathe you for watching, so you direct all your attention to her.
"I'm an orphan, just like Coryo here." She nods to him and his brows furrow at the nickname coming from someone new. "It's just me and the Covey."
"Covey?" You ask.
"Yeah, they're my family and we perform together. It's how we make our change."
"Well, you are a very talented singer. Jaws were on the floor in the Capitol during your performance." You smile. 
"I'm not one to go quietly, that's all."
"I'm not either." You agree. "I think we'll be fine friends."
Just at that moment, the three of you hear a scream that has you turning your heads as fast as lightning over to the source, catching the end of Arachne getting her throat slit by her tribute. You and Coriolanus are on your feet in seconds, running over to try and help her just as gunfire rings out, taking down her tribute for the crime of her murder.
You pull off your blazer, both you and Coryo using it to try and stop the bleeding, but you could tell it was no use. By the time you look up, the crowd of spectators was completely gone having rushed for the exits during the attack.
Just as you both realize it's no use, and that she's already dead, you're being pulled away by peacekeepers.
"Hey! Let me go right this second!" You shout, trying to pull away.
"You kids have to get out of here." One of them answers blankly.
"I have to get my stuff!" You complain, trying to wiggle out of their strong grip. "You want me to leave my knife over within reach too? Are you stupid?"
They stop, sighing as they let you go. "Thank you." You huff, readjusting your shirt before walking back over to where you were just sitting with Lucy Gray, quickly gathering your things but leaving food for her.
"Lucy Gray, are you alright?" You ask, seeing her lying on the ground a few feet away from the bars now, just getting up.
She just nods, the fear in her eyes starting to cease. 
"You're not shot?" You follow up with, looking over her at the same time she does.
"No, I'm fine. You go." She replies, standing up again and dusting off her dress.
"Thank god. Those idiots are awful shots!" You bite, looking back at the peacekeepers over your shoulder, Coriolanus now nowhere to be seen.
You stand up and pull your bag across your body, walking past them toward the exit as they attempt to guide you in the right direction. "Don't touch me!" You hiss, smacking their hands away.
"Coryo!" You call out, running to catch up with him in the academy hall the next morning. He slows down, glancing over his shoulder and stopping to wait for you.
"Y/N." He states, looking at you expectantly. 
"Shall we go see Lucy Gray today?" You ask, reaching up to tighten your ponytail that had come loose in your jog.
"No." He shakes his head, continuing to walk and you follow after him. 
"What? Why not? She needs us to bring her food, and we have to-"
"I'll discuss the games with her at the planned meeting this afternoon. You won't be going back to the zoo."
"Excuse me?" You ask, grabbing his arm to stop him in his tracks. "I know I'm like, your assistant, or whatever, but you will not tell me what I can and cannot do."
"It's too dangerous. They are dangerous." Coriolanus argues. "I won't have you ending up like Arachne."
He had been up all night writing his proposal for Dr. Gaul. It was the only thing that could get his mind off the death of his classmate, and off of you. What if it had been you? He should have known it was dangerous, it was his fault. It was his idea that the mentors get closer to the tributes and someone was killed. Arachne's blood was on his hands, and he was just relieved that it wasn't yours staining his uniform instead.
"No. No, she died because she was stupid." You whisper, looking around. "She taunted her tribute and handed her a knife, at that point it's natural selection. I am not her. I am smarter."
He stares down at you, scanning over your features as you beg him to let you continue to help. "You need me, Coriolanus. Admit that much to yourself."
"I don't need you," He spits back. "But I like you much better alive. You are the one person in this school I can stand, I won't lose you over something so reckless." He pulls his arm from your grasp and walks off.
You look around, seeing your classmates staring and you roll your eyes. "Take a picture or something." You say to no one in particular, prompting people to avert their eyes.
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elmhat · 4 months
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DISC WAR FINALE - TUMBLR SIMULATOR
(The posts here are ordered from least to most recent, since I figured it was a better experience to read them chronologically.)
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🟩 evilwarcriminal Follow
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Mwahahaha… They'll never find my evil lair where I do evil things. Evilly. That I gave them a compass to
#sorry for vagueing #everything I do is mysterious
12 notes
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💿 fuckdream123 Follow
just said my final goodbyes before my inevitable death and my friend couldn't even be assed to put on a shirt??
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#cw nudity
56 notes
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💿 fuckdream123 Follow
boats are so fucking boring man send me some asks or something
🟩 evilwarcriminal Follow
I'm about to kill you, can you please take this seriously
💿 fuckdream123 Follow
why'd you make it so fucking far away
🟩 evilwarcriminal Follow
Sorry I didn't realize you were THIS SLOW
💿 fuckdream123 Follow
can you just give us the coords
🟩 evilwarcriminal Follow
Then it wouldn't be dramatic
💿 fuckdream123 Follow
it's not dramatic when you're having a whole ass conversation about it either
💿 fuckdream123 Follow
fuck i shouldn't have posted that. who am i gonna talk to now i'm fucking lonely i have no one
🐝 what-if-bees-had-nukes Follow
hi
💿 fuckdream123 Follow
no one at all
21 notes
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🥇 dreamsno1traitor Follow
EVERYONE SHOULD BE AT THE PORTAL!
If you don't see one of your mutuals here please tag them, it's gonna ruin the moment if someone shows up late
🥚 baddestboi-withahalo Follow
@evilwarcriminal
🔥 murdered-yo-fave-pet Follow
DELETE THIS
134 notes
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💿 fuckdream123 Follow
#rigging is allowed
16 notes
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🐝 what-if-bees-had-nukes Follow
he has an elevator, we're doomed.
🟩 evilwarcriminal Follow
Can you get off your phone. I'm trying to monologue
4 notes
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🔥 murdered-yo-fave-pet Follow
New ask game cause I'm sick of waiting, tell me what you think dream is doing rn and I'll tell you how much death I think he deserves
9 notes
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🟩 evilwarcriminal Follow
I'm kinda busy rn but can someone remind me later to post my villain monologue? It's only a first draft but I had to spend all my time setting up my lair. And also blowing up that country a few weeks ago
5 notes
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🐈 antthecatmaid Follow
I stg punz is being so sus. what's he even waiting for. he better be paying by the hour
11 notes
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🐝 what-if-bees-had-nukes Follow
listen I think I'm gonna die dream is about to take my phone the coords are
2 notes
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🔥 murdered-yo-fave-pet Follow
Fuck this I'm going through @dreamsno1traitor
🥇 dreamsno1traitor Follow
WAIT I NEED TO GO FIRST STICK TO THE SCRIPT
13 notes
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💿 fuckdream123 Follow
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HOOOLY SHIT BITCH BOY LOOK AT THIS BITCH BOY BITCH DROP YOUR ITEMS IN THE HOLE ✨BITCH✨
#cw nudity #again #can people please wear clothes around me thanks
2,577 notes
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🟩 evilwarcriminal Follow
/ tw prison
/ tw loss of canon lives
/ tw near death experience
/ tw getting defeated by your archnemesis
.
.
.
I won't be able to post for a while.
78 notes
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🦆 stabbyduck69 Follow
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ooooohhh look at me i'm skeppy! in the skeppy cage!! can't believe that fucker made this wtf is this place
🦆 stabbyduck69 Follow
okay i'm done now bad where did you go @baddestboi-withahalo i need to get out again @baddestboi-withahalo @baddestboi-withahalo @baddestboi-withahalo
💎 goodestboi-withahalo Follow
Thank you for accepting this job opportunity
18 notes
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🟩 evilwarcriminal Follow
Guys get out of my inbox. Your hate anons aren't even effective if I don't have a phone in prison
6 notes
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🧨 deadpresident2 Follow
Hey I'm back from the dead
💿 fuckdream123 Follow
REALLY????
🧨 deadpresident2 Follow
Sorry forgot the /j
8 notes
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🥇 dreamsno1traitor Follow
Good job today guys. Yeah. Woo. I'm very happy.
#forgive me if I sound too excited
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🐝 what-if-bees-had-nukes Follow
.
#I need to be vague about this cause he follows me on here #but I think my best friend almost just traded my life for two pieces of plastic #it was a pretty stressful situation though #ig I can't complain too much #am I weird for thinking that's not normal for a friendship? #sorry #I'm probably being unreasonable #they were some really nice pieces of plastic #you can lmk what you think in dms if you want #just please don't send me asks about this situation #I really don't want him to see #neg #discourse
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🦆 stabbyduck69 Follow
it's great that we got dream but we need to go after @.bloodforthebloodgod next
🐷 bloodforthebloodgod Follow
what's happening what
🦆 stabbyduck69 Follow
go away i thought i blocked you
💿 fuckdream123 Follow
FUCKKJL YOU TECHNOO
🐝 what-if-bees-had-nukes Follow
technoblade is cringe
🐷 bloodforthebloodgod Follow
you literally tagged me
🦆 stabbyduck69 Follow
yeah cause i needed my followers to know where to send the death threats
28 notes
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🔱 warden-of-the-vault Follow
Pandora's Vault is now open to visitors!
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Just be aware that the entry process is a lengthy one with several waivers to sign. Plus there are a couple of annoying manual searches along the way. The prisoner is also highly dangerous, he will get inside your head and control your thoughts, transforming you into a servant to his every whim, destroying your very soul from within. I'd recommend not visiting at all actually. You can if you want but I wouldn't. If I were you. That's just me though.
#just me and him
103 notes
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(Here's another dsmp dash simulator post I made!)
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riverbutghost · 9 months
Note
Can I get who did this to you + you could’ve died with ghost ? With injured reader ? I love ur writing !
Omg stopp I love you <3 I love angst so I hope I’ll deliver the bestttt. Please keep up with prompts like this guyss I love it.
Here are some angst prompts !!
Pairing: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x GN!Reader
Summary: You accidentally came face to face with Graves after his betrayal, and he attacked you. Ghost wasn’t happy that you kept this a secret.
Warnings: military stuff, wounds, Graves stabs your hand, slight torture, we hate Graves in this one lol…
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You were tired, exhausted. You could barely walk. The mission was almost done.
You gripped your gun tighter, hardened your gaze and pushed through the fire. It was hard for your to walk with an injured leg, but that wasn’t important. You were going to get checked out anyway.
There was a noise coming from behind. You turned around, fingers dancing around the trigger.
“Well, well, well… Look who’s here.”
You turned around again, the voice was familiar.
“Graves…”
You clenched your jaw after remembering his betrayal. He had betrayed you, your team. Your anger was getting worse.
Your hand automatically moved to your comm, but Graves pushed you to the ground. You gasped and looked up to him. He crouched down.
“Yeah, no need to inform anyone here. We will just have a talk.”
You grimaced as he kicked your gun harshly.
“Fuck you, Philip. I thought we were friends-“
“Oh, really?”
He laughed and smirked sinisterly. You furrowed your eyebrows. It was like he was someone else.
A sudden pain jolted through your hand as you screamed. You looked down, and saw that Graves had a knife in your hand. A fucking knife was deep down inside your hand.
“Stop it fucker!”
You yelled at him, trashed and turned but he didn’t pull it out.
“You’re naive, to think that we were friends. I always hated you to be honest.”
You gritted your teeth in pain. You couldn’t concentrate on his words as your hand throbbed. It was worse than your leg obviously, and it made you forget about your leg.
“Oh for fuc-“
You gripped your side and screamed as he kicked your ribcage quite forcefully. You curled up in a ball, and whimpered.
“Shut it. You stole something from me. Give it back.”
He wasn’t playing around anymore, he was serious as fuck. And you didn’t know what he was talking about.
“I don’t know-“
He stepped on your injured leg, making a noise coming from it. You yelled and trashed. You started hitting his leg, but he wasn’t budging.
“Please- Please!”
He eventually let go, but your leg was still throbbing. You whimpered again as you looked down on the ground. There was blood everywhere.
“Give. It. Back. Or else, I swear-“
His attention immediately went to the noise that came from his comm. Your breathing was getting better and you prayed for him to leave.
“You’re lucky, next time I won’t play games. I will kill you immediately.”
He kicked you one last time before leaving. You laid down for a moment, with closed eyes. What did he want? You absolutely had no clue.
You tried standing up, but whimpered at the way your hand and your leg throbbed. Still tensed up, you held your breath and got up in a swift motion.
“Aghh, fuck!”
Your face scrunched up and you cursed yourself, Graves, war and everything.
“We found Graves, meet us in front of the heli.”
You sighed.
-
“Hey, you okay?”
You turned towards your Captain and smiled.
“Yeah, all good. Need a few stitches, though.”
You chuckled with him. You swiftly looked at Ghost to see how he was when the helicopter touched the ground. His eyes met yours instantly, but he averted them again and gritted his chin.
You found this pretty weird, but shrugged it off.
You got up, body focusing on your injuries as you walked out of the heli. You waited for one of them to turn around. Why would they though?
“Give your old pal a hand !”
You jokingly said as Simon turned around and lifted you in his arms. He put you on your feet and continued his walk.
“Uhm- thank you..?”
You mumbled and tagged along. What was his problem now?
-
“Come with me,”
You held your breath and cursed. You had to get checked out but Simon was asking you to come with him.
“I’m gonna take a sho-“
“Come.”
He left no room for a reply and you followed him, a little annoyed. When you realized that he was actually taking you to get checked out, you furrowed your eyebrows.
He opened the door an closed it back after you two got in.
“Did something happen..?” You asked him with a shaky voice.
“You tell me.” He grumbled, eyes never leaving yours.
“I-“
You stopped mid sentence, sucked your bottom lip up and looked up at him. His gaze softened a little and he took a step closer. His hand came towards your waist, but you whimpered in pain. His hand was pulled back immediately.
“What-“
He mumbled and took a deep breath. His hand made contact with your vest, and he pulled it off. You didn’t say anything.
He looked at your bruised ribcage, and opened his mouth to speak again.
“Where else?”
You pointed down to your leg, dried blood was still there. He ripped your pants of within a second, and you gasped lightly as the sudden contact with air.
Simon looked up at you with…disappointment… which then turned into anger. He took your arm and inspected it as well. After a few calming breaths, he opened his mouth. He took a few steps back.
“Who did this to you?”
You took a deep breath. There was no denying now.
“Graves… He attacked me.”
Simon furrowed his eyebrows and took a step towards you.
“What..?” He asked in confusion.
You just swallowed and pursed your lips. Simon’s confused face suddenly turned into an angered one, and he took a step back.
“Why didn’t yo- Why the fuck didn’t you tell us-me?!” You looked down in shame and held your tears in.
“I can’t believe you! You could’ve fuckin’ died!”
He slammed his fist into the medical cabinet, and the glass shattered into pieces. You flinched.
There was a loud silence for a few minutes. Only the breathing of Simon was heard. You opened your mouth to speak.
“I didn’t want you to think..low of me.”
Simon averted his eyes away from you and shook his head slightly.
“You could’ve died. That’s what matters. You matter.”
A choked sob left your throat as you buried your face to your hands. Your arm was throbbing, but you didn’t care.
“Hey, hey- It’s okay. Don’t pull that shit again, yeah?”
Simon rushed towards you and lifted your chin with his thumb.
“We can’t lose you. I can’t, lose you. Not you, okay? just want you to be more careful with your life.”
You looked up to him with big broken eyes and his gaze softened even more if that was possible.
He sighed after a minute of you staring at him with pleading eyes.
“C’mere, pretty..”
You pulled him closer to you and threw your arms around him.
“Gotta check on your wounds too, love.”
Simon mumbled against your head, breathing deeply into your hair while thinking of ways to make Graves suffer for almost killing you.
You just sniffled and held him tighter. Simon didn’t know how to approach you, but one thing he knew was, Graves was about to get fucked, that was sure.
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strawhbrrries · 11 months
Text
Inked
pairing: tattoo artist!frank castle x afab!reader
summary: frank castle was praised for his work constantly, leading you to get a thigh piece. which then leads you into a problem because your artist is so fucking attractive
warnings: cussing, masturbation (m and f), fingering, frank with no shirt, tattooed frank!!!, no use of y/n or description of reader, not proofread 
word count: 2732 words
author’s note: this has been a looooong time coming so i'm excited to finally be able to share it with you guys!! i hope it does the drabble that started it some justice. dedicated to the sweet anon that requested it be turned into a full fic! please enjoy! mwah!
tags: @kloofspeaks
inspired by this drabble!
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Your wallet was burning a hole in your pocket, a big gaping tattoo shaped hole. To match the tattoo shaped hole in your wallet was a perfect spot on your thigh just begging to be decorated, but your current artist was booked so far out and you needed it now. 
“Just go to this guy.” Your friend mentioned, giving you the contact information for one of the artists at the studio they frequented. His work was insane, you spent an entire week looking and relooking at all the pictures he posted before ever working up the courage to email him, he was faceless and you assumed he was some old man who’d been in the game a long time.
You couldn’t be more wrong.
“Can I help you?” A deep voice snapped you back to reality, you had gotten side tracked looking at all the art on the wall from all the artists in the studio. The guy you were seeing, Mr. Castle, had the best work though and you were glad your friend had mentioned him. 
You turned around and immediately wanted to hide, a very handsome man with a tall stature was the source of the voice. It made your panties wet and made you want to rub your thighs together to relieve the building tension, not that it would help but you sure could try. He was rugged, in a gorgeous way, his hair was fluffy and fell over his ears but his jaw was sharp and complimented the style. His face was serious, not that he was trying to be but it made you nervous. Made you want to confess every bad thing you’d ever done out of sheer anxiousness, to fill the silence as he waited for your answer. You hoped he wasn’t your artist just for your sake, and maybe for your underwear.
“Yeah, uhm. I have a consultation with Mr. Castle.” Your voice was much softer than his, you looked down to avoid eye contact with him. To avoid spilling your guts to some handsome stranger who was probably married because how could he not be? 
“That’d be me.” For the first time since you saw him a smile appeared on his face, it complimented him more than the stoic look he carried. The blush that arose was almost embarrassing, he thought it was cute. “Just Frank though.”
“Huh?” You stopped listening after he mentioned he was your artist, the blood pumping in your ears being the only sound you heard. Of course you would end up with the world's most attractive man as your artist and of course he was going to be touching all over your legs, this was a cruel dream. You’d practically broken a finger from how hard you were squeezing your hands.
“Just call me Frank, Mr. Castle is my dad and I hate the formality.” He chuckled, writing something on the clipboard he’d been holding. You hadn’t noticed anything below his neck and now you were actively, and very obviously, checking him out.
His arms were veiny and filled with tattoos that disappeared under the sleeves of his shirt and poked back out at the neck before disappearing down his back, it seemed he had one big connecting tattoo but you couldn’t exactly ask him to strip in public. You couldn’t see his legs or his chest but you assumed they were also covered in tattoos, you wanted nothing more to learn about them all. 
“You can just follow me this way, the consultation won’t take long.” He cleared his throat, clearing the awkward air that hung between you. 
He walked to a booth all the way in the back and to the left, pulled the curtain closed after you walked in. Motioning to the chair that sat in the middle of the space you sat down and placed your purse on your lap, mentally cursing yourself for being so fucking awkward. This wasn’t your first tattoo so what was your problem? He was and you knew it. 
“Did you get the email I sent? I know my description of the idea was bad so I can explain it better.” You rambled, watching him sit on the swivel chair next to you and pick up an ipad from the counter that sat in the back. 
“Yeah, let me show you what I drew up and we can go from there.” He looked at you through his hair as he leaned his elbows against his knees, pulling up the drawing. He turned around and the ipad and handed it to you, chuckling when your eyes lit up at the design.
“It’s like you read my mind, holy shit. This is exactly what I envisioned.” For the first time since you saw him your voice was confident and loud, your eyes bright and your mouth a bright smile. He slowly took the ipad back and let out a laugh, god he was attractive.
“It’s what I do. Do you like it, does it need any change? If so I can fix those right now and then I can print it out and we can play with sizes.” He watched your face, he could almost see the gears turning in your head as you processed his words.
“It’s perfect, no changes.” You nodded, smiling big.
He printed out a few sizes and tested each of them against your thigh, he pretended not to notice the blush that only darkened in shade every time he touched you. You appreciated it, trying your best to regulate your breathing and the pounding your heart was doing. You worried if you’d be able to control yourself when it came to the actual tattoo, he would be touching you nonstop for an unknown amount of time. He settled on the middle size, taking up a big chunk of the free space you had but not so much it looked awkwardly big and not too little so it looked too small.
You had trusted him and set the date for your actual tattoo, two weeks from the day you went in. You spent every day and every night for the next two weeks thinking about him. If you were making breakfast you thought about how he liked his bacon cooked, his coffee, or if he even ate it at all. If you were showering you thought about the products he used and if he used a loofah or a rag, if he had separate conditioner and shampoo. When you laid awake at night, hands stuffed in your panties wanting to cry his name, you thought if he was doing the same. Came to the image of his smile and fell asleep to the sound of his voice playing in your mind.
He’d seen thousands of clients, tattooed plenty of attractive women, but nobody had been so stuck in his head like you. After he walked you to the door he went back to his booth, closed the curtain and fucked his hand like a teenage boy. Washed his hands in the bathroom and went to greet his next client like he wasn’t thinking about bending you over the counter. Having you ride him in the tattoo chair. Making you be quiet so no one else heard you. Shit, he was hard again. He didn’t know if his self control was strong enough to avoid hitting on you and being unprofessional the next time you came in. 
The day finally came, you had counted down the days and the minutes until you could see him again. There was this incessant need to see him and try to figure out the mysteries that stood behind Frank Castle. You asked him what kind of coffee he preferred, black, and picked it up on your way to the studio. The nerves were hitting you, not only would you be getting a decent sized tattoo but it’d be done by the most attractive man you’d ever seen. The man you’d spent two weeks masturbating to, this was going to be fun.
“God, this is just what I need this morning.” He groaned, taking the paper cup of coffee out of your hand and taking a long sip. “Typically I try not to drink caffeine on days I’m actually tattooing, makes the hand shake sometimes. I was up late last night so this is a must.”
“And I’m using it to get rid of the shakes.” You joked, taking a sip of your coffee and following him back to the booth. 
You’d opted to wear a yellow sundress, not by choice as it was one of the only clean articles of clothing you had that left your thigh relatively exposed. It was a choice you were now regretting, in the days leading up to the appointment you apparently did everything but laundry. Frank was trying his hardest to ignore it, he was insanely glad he’d walked in front of you. Had he been behind you he’d for sure stared at your ass the entire walk to his booth. He can’t deny that he hadn’t when he made you enter the booth before him, it was a glorious sight. He adjusted his pants before he did anything else, this was going to be a grueling few hours.
He carefully placed the stencil on your thigh, being careful to move the dress up just enough that it wasn’t in the way but not too much so your pussy was on display. He wished it was. He wanted to eat you out like it was his last meal. But he refrained. He’d been on his best behavior so far and he was determined to stay that way, no matter how much he wanted to hike your dress up and pull your panties down to your ankles. Once he finally was satisfied with the stencil placement he asked for your opinion, as it was going on your body forever and not his. You had him adjust the angle once before deciding it was perfect, he had to ask three times before you admitted you didn’t like the original placement.
The tattoo took three hours, three long hours of his hands touching you in the most non-sexual way but yet turning you on ridiculously. You were sure that by the time he’d wrapped your tattoo there was a large stain on the fabric of your panties, a part of you wanted him to see it and know he caused it. The other part was embarrassed. They were fighting to see which part would take over.
“Can I see your tattoos?” You asked softly, an attempt to stay with him longer and avoid going home. You knew you could just book another appointment but what fun would waiting be? You could just stall for as long as you could.
“Oh? Yeah, sure.” His face was shocked, like nobody in the entire world had ever asked to see the intricate tattoo that was drawn across his body. You refused to believe it.
You watched intently as he removed his shirt, your eyes following the lines that were revealed by the lack of fabric. He watched silently as you raked your eyes over his skin, a small hint of a blush covered his cheeks. He’d never had someone so curious about his tattoos and want to see them, it was odd to be the one in the spotlight. 
“Can I touch them?” You looked up at him, moving a bit closer as you waited for his response.
“Yeah…” He breathed out, quiet and waiting for the feeling of your hand on his skin. His breath hitched in his throat the second he felt it, the warmth of your hand felt incredible on his skin. 
You trailed your fingers over every line, starting from the bottom of his left arm and down his chest. Goosebumps followed closely behind your fingers, the contact was something unusual to him. Welcomed, but unusual. He watched you the entire time you marveled at the ink, answering every question you had. He’d had people be interested in the ink before but never to the extent you were, he appreciated it and would think about it forever. He’d think about you forever. 
“Frank…” You whispered, looking up at him as you placed a hand on his chest. 
He looked down at you and groaned, the self control he had was no longer a thing. The pink staining your cheeks and the way your eyes were glazed over and he hadn’t even touched you made him want to do bad things. He wanted to corrupt you, bend you to his will for only him to have. His head dipped down, softly placing his lips against yours. A small whimper escaped your lips as he brought a hand to cup the side of your face, switching positions with you on the counter. Now he had you pressed against it and was able to do whatever he desired.
He nipped at your bottom lip, swiping his tongue across it to soothe any pain. He’d slipped his other hand under your dress at the same time, rubbing the skin just above your panties. You leaned your hip into his touch, bringing the hand that was on his chest to his hair. Using it to ground yourself just a bit, the fact that you were making out with the man you lusted after for two weeks was insane. It felt like a dream.
“Can I touch you?” He mumbled against your lips, playing with the band of your panties. 
You shook your head yes and helped him slide your panties down, stepping out of them and scooting them to the side to be discovered later. He slid his middle finger between your lips, gliding it up and down a minute as he continued kissing you.
“You’re so wet, who did this?” He mocked, circling your clit a few times.
“You did.” You whimpered, trying to grind down against his hand for just a bit more friction.
“That right? Been thinking about me this whole time? Wanted me to help fix your problem?” He slid his middle finger inside of you, curling it against that wonderful spongy spot.
You couldn’t muster up a response no matter how badly you wanted to, his singular finger felt better than any of your fingers had for two weeks. This was everything you wanted and more. He chuckled at you, flattered that him barely doing anything set you off like it had. 
He pumped his finger in and out slowly, watching as your juices coated his finger. Enjoying the moans he was pulling out of you, even if they were trying to entice him into adding another finger. He gave in, the pretty noises you were making he just couldn’t resist. He would do anything in this moment to please you, if you had this effect on him for everything he’d be screwed. He added another finger, kissing along your jawline as he did so. You could’ve seen stars right then and there, if this was how full you felt from just his fingers you could only imagine the fullness from his cock.
He curled his fingers rhythmically with the pumping, using his thumb to circle your clit as best he could. The knot in your stomach that had formed the day you stepped into the studio was bubbling, you could feel it twisting and tightening. Your orgasm was on the tip of your tongue and it felt explosive, three more pumps of his fingers and your vision went white. His name falling off your lips like a mantra, like it was the only name you knew and you didn’t care if the rest of the studio could hear. He was making you feel so fucking good, you could scream it from the rooftops. 
Nearing the end of your orgasm he slowed his fingers down, placing one last kiss to your lips before completely removing them. You whined at the loss, feeling so empty now that they were gone. He smiled softly at the whine, washing his hands in the sink next to the counter before bringing a towel over to help clean up any mess.
“Do you do this with all your clients?” You joked, fixing the sweaty hairs sticking to your forehead.
“No, only you. Step in here in a sundress again and we’ll see what happens.”
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jjunberry · 2 months
Text
txt! as chase atlantic songs
pairing! txt x reader
genre! angst, slight smut
warnings! toxic relationships
synopsis! songs by chase atlantic i think txt would be
wc! 600
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soobin as slow down
“you’re buried in the pillow, yeah, you're so loud”
you were soobin’s dirty little secret. he met you after a show and once he had you, he was hooked. he was laid on the bed and his eyes trailed your form. “come here babe.” he said his voice deep. you crawled up the bed and sat on his lap. his hands gripped your hips, giving them a squeeze. “gonna let me fuck you?” you nodded. “you gotta keep quiet baby.” he said before flipping you onto your stomach. soobin was quick to push your panties the side. using your wetness he coated his dick and slipped in. you moaned out at the feeling. soobin grunted and pushed your face down into the pillow. “be quiet or i’ll cum and send you home needy.”
yeonjun as right here
“i’m right here, here. oh, baby take a look around, i’m the only one that hasn't walked out.”
yeonjun hated your friends. he only ever wanted your attention on him. he slowly drove them out. one by one they fell off cutting contact with you. “i just don’t understand why they go out without me.” you ranted doing your skin care. “come to bed baby, forget them.” he said. you ignored his words continuing your rant. “baby.” yeonjun snapped his voice stern. “i do not care about your fucking friends. now come to bed.” you nodded and abandoned your skin care. yeonjun pulled you against his chest. “i’m the only one here for you, forget them.” he kissed your head.
beomgyu as you too
“if you love it, then you cut the thing loose.”
it was a repeating toxic cycle. fighting, breaking up, getting back together. fucking roughly to bury the reason you faught again. you were tired but you just loved him. you’d forgive anything he did. “y/n we need to talk.” beomgyu said. here we go. another fight. “what now beomgyu?” he leaned against the door frame and watched you change into sleep clothes. “i’m done, i have my bags packed. i can’t keep doing this. it’s exhausting.” you sighed and looked at him. “very funny beomgyu just come to bed.” he ignored your words and walked over kissing you deeply. “goodbye baby.” he turned to leave. “if you leave don’t fucking bother coming back.” he just sighed and walked out.
taehyun as the walls
“honestly she needs a little loving. fuck it, now i’m getting off the subject, yeah, yeah.”
you were lonely. always by yourself. against the wall at parties, in the back of the room. he always spotted you though. there was something about you taehyun couldn’t shake. you needed something or someone. that someone being him. it didn’t take long for you to fall into bed with him. taehyun filled that void and satisfied that need and want within you. he had his hand wrapped around your throat as he thrusted into you roughly. he stilled cumming in you. when he cleaned himself up he left and rejoined the party. you never felt so full yet so alone.
hueningkai as heaven and back
“all in one night. she just went to heaven and back.”
you always wanted him. he just wanted something quick. kai took you out that night. all over the town. different clubs, different parties. you felt so high. kai took you by the hand and lead you do a dingy bathroom. his hand slipped into your pants. your eyes rolled back. before you knew it kai was taking you against the bathroom stall. you felt like you were in heaven. you could feel your orgasm approaching but it was cut short when kai finished and pulled out. he tucked himself away and left the stall. your heart sunk to your feet. it all came crashing down watching him leave you.
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author’s note! i got a little carried away with this one…. these are some of my favorite chase atlantic songs soooooooooo it was only fitting i went a little crazy writing this.
tag list! @jjunieworld @304files
love, echo ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪
© jjunberry
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