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#there are people /asking/ for more eyes on certain cases
wosoamazing · 2 days
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Newest Signing
Part 1 - Fire on Fire Series A/N: This is the first part of my new Leah Series, I have already started writing and planing parts of it but if you have any ideas let me know and I will try and include them.
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Leah sat on her phone scrolling through various social media platforms, it hurt to see so many other people happy, with their partners when she wasn't, she had never had a successful relationship, to her no one was right, no one was the right match, she didn't feel like they clicked. So many of her exes told her that she had 'too high standards' or that 'soulmates don't exist' or something along the lines of 'you aren't perfect so why do you expect someone else to be perfect'. However she wasn't looking for a soulmate, she wasn't looking for someone perfect, she was just looking for the someone who was perfect for her.
She had started to think that maybe she was just asking for too much, and that her standards were too high, but that was until the day Jonas introduced the team to Arsenal's newest signing.
"Girls this is Y/N Y/L/N, she is our newest signing, and yes she did sign outside of the transfer window as approved by the FA due to issues at her old club, but no further questions on that please. She isn't going to be fully joining training until our Portugal training camp, just so she has some time to settle in but also a well deserved break, but you will see her in the gym and around the place, so please make her feel welcome. I think she is going to be really great for the team."
Her eye's immediately connected with the brunettes, she was tall and muscular, her face held the dreamiest blue eyes, and her smile was perfect, she continued watching the girl as she hugged Stina, the way her hair flowed, her body flowed, it was safe to say Leah was mesmerised.
"Stop staring, you creep" McCabe whispered in Leah's ear, causing her to break from her trance, giving the Irish women a playful smack on the shoulder. "I'm going to the gym," she said as she stood up and headed out, everyone around her making eyes at each other.
_____
You walked into the locker room behind Jonas and as he introduced you to the team, a certain blonde's eyes connected with yours, you couldn't help but notice the small smile her lips created when she saw you, but you quickly diverted your gaze to your best friend. Walking up to her and hugging her.
"I'm glad they let you sign out of the transfer window," Stina said, sounding relieved as she released the hug, "yeah I was worried they wouldn't but once I explained to the FA what was happening they were horrified and told me they would reach out to whatever club I wanted to, within reason, and see if they would sign me. Apparently there are going to be investigations."
"Good, they shouldn't be doing that. But where are you staying? You can crash at mine until you find a place if you need."
"Thank you, but I'm all good, Moster and Tante said I could stay with them, as they are in Paris for the next however long, however it was more a non-negotiable, I think they also meant I was going to be staying when they came back, again non-negotiable, but I'll see."
You and Stina continued talking until it was time for the girls to go to their meeting. You had an appointment with one of the physios just so they could check your range of motion and get some base lines in case you were to injure yourself before your first fitness testing session. As you walked into the gym, you saw a certain blonde in the corner, working away at some exercises which must've been set for her. As you worked with the physio completing the activities and exercises he wanted you to do you couldn't help but notice the way the blonde kept glancing over to you, almost as if she wanted to talk to you.
_____
You sat down at a table with Stina and Frida, Caitlin joined you and wanted to catch up with you and also trying to help you integrate with the team more easily, Caitlin's presence meant that Katie and then consequently Beth sat with you too. You knew the Aussies already due to having spent most of your childhood and your very early twenties in Australia, due to your Tante's work.
"Steph," you called out as you saw the very flustered Aussie walk into the dinning hall, she turned her head around to you, just about every emotion passing through her face.
"Y/N?" she questioned as she walked towards you, "what are you doing here?"
"Well if you weren't late you would've been here when Jonas said I was transferring here," you weren't normally one to say anything about your teammates being late, especially new teammates, however you are Steph had been teammates a long time ago, making your senior team debut for Melbourne Victory exactly a year after she made hers, and she also had a mark on her neck, so you were waiting to see how bad her excuse was.
"Sorry yeah I slept in, Calvin was up barking most of the night. It's so nice to see you again though," she explained as she pulled you in for a hug.
"That mark of your neck would indicate otherwise," you whispered in her ear, she just groaned knowing everyone would've already seen it.
You spend the rest of the lunch talking to mainly Steph or Stina and Frida but occasionally others would make some small talk with you.
After lunch you said your goodbyes to the team, and started to make your way out, when you heard someone call out your name, you turned around to see Leah moving towards you. "Would you like to join me and some of the team for dinner tonight? We are just going to a local pub," she questioned.
"Umm," you filled the air as you hesitated not sure what the goal of her invitation was, "if you don't want to, that's totally okay, I mean you're probably busy anyway," she quickly spat out trying to backtrack.
"Oh no, I would love to, it's just that I don't currently have a car," you told her as you fiddled with the ring on your finger.
"Oh, I can drive you if you want, you can just message me your address later," you nodded and mumbled a quiet thanks before you both went your separate ways.
____
You were just about to put your shoes one when you received a message.
From Leah: I'm just out the front in the car, no rush though. I know I'm early.
To Leah: Hey, all good, I'm actually just putting my shoes on now, I'll be out in a second.
You're pretty sure Leah's eyes widened as you walked out of the house and to her car. You opened the door of her car and saw her eyes run over your body before she said "You look nice," "Oh, thank you, it's nothing," you blushed slightly climbing into the passenger seat, but in truth it was nothing. You had a pair of light blue skinny jeans on, with a cropped country road rugby jumper on. You also have a black puffer vest in case you needed it but you placed that on the floor as you got in.
"You look nice too," you said as an afterthought, almost regretting it instantly, it probably wouldn't been better to say nothing at all than say that.
"Thanks," she smiled at you softly before she began to drive.
---
It was safe to say by the end of the night you hadn't once regretted your decision to come, all the girls there were super nice and it was a really great way to get to know them all, outside of soccer.
"Um, we're about to head home and we just thought to offer to take you home, since, um," Beth gestured over to where Leah was a the bar, you couldn't help but feel a small wave of warmth travel through your body at the fact that the team already seemed to care about you.
"Oh um, yes please that would be great," you followed Beth and Viv to their car, making small talk with them on the way home, when the car pulled up outside your home you didn't miss the look the couple sent each other, you quickly hopped out and thanked the two women profusely, before walking up the stairs of your home and collapsing onto your couch, noticing a message from Stina.
From Stina: Hey, I hope the night out with the girls went well. What would you say to a movie night at yours tomorrow night? In the theatre?
To Stina: Hey yeah it went well, Beth and Viv took me home, will explain why tomorrow night at movie night in the lounge room, you can invite Frida if you want too.
From Stina: Okay. I'll be over around 5. From Stina: Wait, why the lounge room?
To Stina: See you then, I'll make pasta.
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betweenbreaths · 23 hours
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95. Quiet, baby, the others will hear.
Fandom: Love and Deepspace
Characters: Rafayel x Reader
Rating: E / 18+
A/N: Working off this list of r18 prompts for practice; am open to requests for this fandom as well. ;)
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Sometimes, you think, Rafayel is an incorrigible, shameless and irredeemable asshole of the highest order.
And then there are days when you realise that he's so, so much worse than that.
You're at his latest art exhibition, and guests are bustling about. Their murmurs are loud enough that you can hear various buzzwords that the more pretentious visitors tend to use when they want to sound smart and knowledgeable about Rafayel's art. There are also quiet gasps by people enthralled by the ethereal paintings in display.
And, in your case, there are muffled moans spilling through the crevices of your fingers from where you're hidden behind a curtain in a corner of the musuem. Beneath you is a certain fame artist renowned and admired by everyone in the hall, although in your case, he's just a brat who's intent on making life absolute hell for you.
"Quiet, baby, the others will hear."
He briefly pauses to say that infuriating statement, as if he isn't the very reason you're in this state.
You're starting to regret even coming here now; you had arrived early with a bouquet of tulips to congratulate Rafayel, only to be greeted by a distraught Thomas who couldn't find the artist anywhere. He wasn't responding to texts or calls, including yours. Worried something might have happened to him, you immediately set off in search for him. You had then gone past an empty, unused exhibit in the corner of the museum, on your way towards the exit, before you found yourself being unceremoniously yanked back by an unknown force and crashing straight into the familiar arms of a young man.
And now, here you are, struggling to stay quiet while he ravages you, tongue lapping at your drenched pussy like a parched cat.
"Thomas is looking everywhere for you," you hiss, before throwing your head back against the wall when he sucks particularly hard on your clit.
"Don't care," he says, pausing to flash a mischievous grin your way. Still, it's no respite; he continues to pump his two fingers in and out of your slick center, while his thumb periodically flicks over your sensitive nub.
"He's the reason I didn't get to see you for two weeks. And you said you'd give me any reward I asked for if I finished my paintings in time."
"Yes, but not like this! We— ohh yes... w-we can do this later!"
"You say that, but you're clenching hard around my fingers." His lips quirk up at the corners once more, and he leans in closer to your pussy, hot breath fanning over the exposed, sensitive skin. "I didn't do much and you're already so wet for me. Looks like I'm not the only one who missed this, hmm?"
"Rafayel... Ha-ah!" He dives back in, lips hungrily devouring all that you have to offer, sending spark after spark of pleasure running like electricity through your skin. You're close; so close. He knows exactly what he's doing to your body; scissoring his fingers and thrusting them deep into the spot that you love, all while he traces circles around your clit with the tip of his tongue. You start to lose yourself to the intense pleasure that he's giving you, sinking down and hips thrusting to meet the rhythmic dance of his tongue and lips.
At that moment, the sudden sound of distant applause snaps you back to reality and your eyes burst open, hand flying to cover your mouth.
"Rafayel, p-please..."
Your near inaudible protests fall on deaf ears. If anything, Rafayel starts sucking harder, fingers thrusting harder and faster into you now. You can feel the familiar buzz of an orgasm prickling on your skin, and your body begins to tremble as you feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge with each passing second. Your muffled moans begin to crescendo in time with your building pleasure, fingers finding purchase in his soft, wavy hair. Perhaps it's for support, or maybe it's to pull him closer, to fuck yourself on his face and to satisfy both his and your thirst after two long weeks of pining for and missing each other.
"Come for me," he murmurs against your clit, moaning and rolling the bright pink nub between his teeth and tongue like it's the sweetest candy that he's ever tasted.
It doesn't take much more for you to find your release. You come apart, back arching of the wall with your head thrown back while your lips part in a silent scream of his name.
Even then, Rafayel, being the ruthless man he is, doesn't let you go. He continues to suck and lap at you, seeking every last drop of your release from your body. He drinks it all up greedily and when you're finally settled down from your orgasmic high, he releases you, a string of your cum connecting his lips to your kiss-swollen cunt.
"Rafayel..." you breathe out, and when your eyes meet, you just know that he's not anywhere near finished with you yet.
He stands, lanky figure towering over you, and in the next moment, you find yourself being spun around to face the wall. Your hands plant themselves on the cool, hard surface in front of you to reflexively stop yourself from falling face-first into it, and they are promptly covered by his larger ones.
And then you hear his voice, low and silky by your ear. The fiery heat in his breath against your skin makes you shiver in anticipation once more.
"I know it's going to be difficult, but let's try to stay quiet for a while more, okay?"
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area51-escapee · 11 months
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People want to be the main character so bad they want to solve a massive case with no training no experience no evidence nothing but an internet connection and their own wild theories. They are actively disappointed when these crimes are solved and they didn’t have a single hand in helping. They are actively disappointed when a crime is not as gruesome or twisted as their theories made it out to be. They make “in case I go missing” binders, not because there is a threat against their lives or well being but because they’ve become so rotted by true crime podcasts they’re convinced every person who looks their way on the street is plotting their kidnapping and murder. They are convinced every little occurrence is a sign that they are the next victim. An object on the ground. A wet gas pump. Somebody speaking another language than English. Asking for sources or questioning their story or showing proof that what they are saying is misinformation just gets you asked “why do you want women to get murdered????”. Somehow all they’ve learned from their true crime obsession is that every person who doesn’t fit their narrow view of “normal” is a threat to them and not that the authorities and legal system do not give a shit and regularly do not bother to do their job at every turn.
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bravesaboteur · 1 month
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The more I think about it, the more Laios and Falin's different perceptions of their parents are a case of "same parents, different childhood".
Whenever someone asks Laios about his and Falin's family, he comments on how they treated Falin but never comments about how how their childhood affected him - in fact, he kind of glosses over it. It's Falin that everyone is rallying to save, it's Falin that's Marcille's friend, it's Falin that everyone has a positive opinion of - he's just the weirdo brother that gets to share some of her light sometimes. He's the one who's only tolerated when he's useful in a dungeon. Falin's treatment is a large part of the reason that he left, but it's the symptom of a larger issue.
When we see Laios' thoughts of his parents in his nightmares, it's all about the expectations that he's supposed to live up to: the expectation to stop being "childish", the expectation to get married (to who his parents picked) and have children, the expectation to take over from his father as the village chief, the expectation to adapt to something that he isn't able to be in the way that people want him to. And these are all things that he has had to be told in some way: he had to be told that Shuro didn't like him, he had to be told that told that the gold-peelers were taking advantage of him - these aren't thoughts that just appeared on their own, these are all failures that someone has explicitly pointed out to him and they haunt him. Some of the things he considers his biggest failures are his failure to provide for and protect Falin and those have very tangible examples he can point to.
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We get a glimpse of what happens when he fails to live up to his father's expectations when Falin is born. He expects a certain reaction from Laios and when he fails to give that reaction he physically puts him down, dismisses him, and underestimates how much he understands.
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And that's something that's shown to be a bit of a sore point for him - people thinking that he doesn't understand something because he doesn't express himself like people expect. The few times we see him snap at people are because people think he isn't understanding something because he isn't reacting "normally".
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On Falin's side, the expectations seem to be a lot different - she's the younger one, for one, she's a girl, and she was so young when the fallout from her having magic happened. She too had an arranged engagement, but that was broken off when she was sent away to magic school and since then, their parents only seem to be passively involved in her life. She's mostly been freed of the expectations that their parents had for her in her village - she won't be coming back after all. She understands why they sent her away, she wasn't completely oblivious to the villagers treatment of her and it was, arguably, for the best so she is at peace with what their relationship is for now. But she still wants to go to her hometown and see for herself with adult eyes because she has never really had the space to do that.
I don't think their parents are inherently evil people - the truth is probably somewhere between Laios and Falin's version of the story, Laios' side tinged by too much cynicism and Falin's by too much naivete.
It just strikes me that when he tried to provide the "normal" way he failed, but given the space to do something similar to what people expected of him, but in his own way, he succeeded. He isn't perfect but his efforts are ultimately fruitful and he is able to carve out a place for himself, Falin, and others who had been ostracized like them to call home.
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soon-palestine · 5 months
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In a statement that was shared with The Nation, a group of 25 HLR editors expressed their concerns about the decision. “At a time when the Law Review was facing a public intimidation and harassment campaign, the journal’s leadership intervened to stop publication,” they wrote. “The body of editors—none of whom are Palestinian—voted to sustain that decision. We are unaware of any other solicited piece that has been revoked by the Law Review in this way. “ When asked for comment, the leadership of the Harvard Law Review referred The Nation to a message posted on the journal’s website. “Like every academic journal, the Harvard Law Review has rigorous editorial processes governing how it solicits, evaluates, and determines when and whether to publish a piece…” the note began. ”Last week, the full body met and deliberated over whether to publish a particular Blog piece that had been solicited by two editors. A substantial majority voted not to proceed with publication.” Today, The Nation is sharing the piece that the Harvard Law Review refused to run. Some may claim that the invocation of genocide, especially in Gaza, is fraught. But does one have to wait for a genocide to be successfully completed to name it? This logic contributes to the politics of denial. When it comes to Gaza, there is a sense of moral hypocrisy that undergirds Western epistemological approaches, one which mutes the ability to name the violence inflicted upon Palestinians. But naming injustice is crucial to claiming justice. If the international community takes its crimes seriously, then the discussion about the unfolding genocide in Gaza is not a matter of mere semantics. The UN Genocide Convention defines the crime of genocide as certain acts “committed with the intent to destroy, in whole or in part, a national, ethnical, racial or religious group, as such.” These acts include “killing members of a protected group” or “causing serious bodily or mental harm” or “deliberately inflicting on the group conditions of life calculated to bring about its physical destruction in whole or in part.” Numerous statements made by top Israeli politicians affirm their intentions. There is a forming consensus among leading scholars in the field of genocide studies that “these statements could easily be construed as indicating a genocidal intent,” as Omer Bartov, an authority in the field, writes. More importantly, genocide is the material reality of Palestinians in Gaza: an entrapped, displaced, starved, water-deprived population of 2.3 million facing massive bombardments and a carnage in one of the most densely populated areas in the world. Over 11,000 people have already been killed. That is one person out of every 200 people in Gaza. Tens of thousands are injured, and over 45% of homes in Gaza have been destroyed. The United Nations Secretary General said that Gaza is becoming a “graveyard for children,” but a cessation of the carnage—a ceasefire—remains elusive. Israel continues to blatantly violate international law: dropping white phosphorus from the sky, dispersing death in all directions, shedding blood, shelling neighborhoods, striking schools, hospitals, and universities, bombing churches and mosques, wiping out families, and ethnically cleansing an entire region in both callous and systemic manner. What do you call this? The Center for Constitutional Rights issued a thorough, 44-page, factual and legal analysis, asserting that “there is a plausible and credible case that Israel is committing genocide against the Palestinian population in Gaza.” Raz Segal, a historian of the Holocaust and genocide studies, calls the situation in Gaza “a textbook case of Genocide unfolding in front of our eyes.”
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supercutszns · 4 months
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Hi!! Just had to drop in and say I LOVED your Luke fic and I can’t wait for more. I would love protective Luke with hurt/comfort, if that sounds interesting at all. Thanks for sharing your writing!!! 🌸
fighting chance; luke castellan
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wc + pairing: 4.2k, luke castellan x daughter of ares! reader
synopsis: when an enemy takes advantage of your kindness during capture the flag, luke intervenes with a sword in hand.
warnings: a creepy boy👎, threats/harm to reader, she’s going through it, blood/injuries (nothing major), angry ANGRY luke, violence, lots of fluff/reassurance at the end<3
notes: thank you SO much for your kind words & your request!! hurt/comfort is my bread and butter my favourite fic genre of all time i think. & protective luke is just a bonus bc he’s already crazy so it can go as far as i want🤭 i’m not exactly sure what this turned into but if i fix it any more i'm going to go insane so hope you like it!
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You’re not much of a fighter.
That alone is a normal thing to admit—plenty of people don’t like violence, the frisson of a challenge, the bruises that come with them. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.
Unless you’re a child of Ares.
People at camp often ridicule your gentle nature when they see you with your half-siblings. They’re all gritted teeth and sharp edges, born warriors that take up all the space they can get. You, on the other hand, are lousy with weapons and even lousier with your fists. You’re quiet, attentive. While your siblings charge into battle without second thought you stay back, flitting around to adjust armour, change out weapons, oversee the terrain. Planning isn’t Ares’ style so you’re pretty much useless but nobody wants to admit it. You’re usually mistaken as a child of Hephaestus or Athena.
Unfortunately, you are a child of Ares, through and through—just in none of the ways that matter.
There are rare times your father’s influence peeks through. Not with bursts of rage or fists flying, but with thoughts. And sometimes those thoughts turn into words. Well, not sometimes. One time. This one.
The evening before the camp’s Capture the Flag game, every cabin gathered around the bonfire past dinner. To burn offerings, to chat, or in Luke Castellan’s case, to admire.
He watches you laugh with Clarisse from a distance. The Ares cabin leader always had a certain fondness for you. When Luke first started dating you he had to ask Clarisse for her blessing beforehand just to be sure she wouldn’t kill him. He’d do it a million times over just for the moment you look back, your face warming when you catch his stare. He rolls his eyes at you to lessen his smile, but he’s not sure it works. You giggle and turn back to your friend.
He’s always loved your softness; your capacity to defend and not attack. Your body rejects any skill you could possibly develop for violence. Believe him, he’s tried to teach you sword fighting, but the last time he gave you a lesson you nearly impaled yourself thirty seconds in. He loves your wit and your tenderness, your proficiency at preventing conflict, your refusal to argue. But a selfish part of him loves the fact that he’s your protector even more.
The night wears on with the flickers of fire and friendly banter. One of the times Luke looks back at you, his brows wrinkle. There’s a guy talking to you. A group of them, actually, but there’s one clearly leading the pack. Some Aphrodite kid. Luke’s jaw twitches.
“Hey, princess,” the voice makes you pull away from your talk with Clarisse, but you’re confused. Luke is the only one that calls you that.
“Um, me?” You ask when you see the boy in front of you. He’s tall, chest puffed out. It’s not an endearing silhouette. “What’s up?”
“You wanna be on my team for Capture the Flag tomorrow?” He asks nonchalantly.
You laugh politely, “Sorry, but I don’t think we’re allied with Aphrodite tomorrow. That’s your cabin, isn’t it?” You feel bad that you can’t remember—his face is so … plain.
He chuckles back, but it’s a lot less nice. “No, doll, that’s not what I mean.” He steps a little too close, and even though you know Clarisse is behind you it feels like she’s a thousand miles away. “Well,” he drawls, a smirk drawn out, “you meet me in the forest after we start, and then we can … you know. Confer.”
“Confer?”
“Yeah. You get what I mean, pretty girl, don’t play dumb.”
A revulsion coats your gut. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t call me that,” you say as firmly as you can.
“What, pretty or dumb? Why not both?”
It’s demeaning, the way he says it, and it stirs a temper in your stomach you know you inherited from your father. You’re not big on confrontation. Or embarrassment. But this weirdo is talking to you out in the open and people are starting to stare. He wouldn’t dish it out if he can’t take it, right?
“I’ll pass on your offer. I have a boyfriend and I’m actually on his team tomorrow, so I’d rather confer with him, sorry.” Your hands wring together but you do your best to quell them, imagining it’s the string of Luke’s camp necklace, threaded between your fingers. You try to look for him out of the corner of your eye.
He snickers, even though it’s common knowledge you and Luke have been together for months now. “So you are dumb, huh?” He tries to smirk and you assume is supposed to be sexy, but it’s just gross. His hand tries to slide around your waist.
“Don’t touch me, please,” you hit his hand away. Your skin is crawling and the knot inside you tightens.“Just leave me alone. People are looking, you know.”
“We could go somewhere where nobody looks,” he sneers, and the grin on his face is so sleazy that you just can’t stand it anymore.
You pray to your father for strength. And to yourself for forgiveness.
“I’m sorry, are you stupid or something? I told you, no.” You snap. “Maybe you’re the pretty dumb one, but for a child of Aphrodite it’s shocking how little the first one applies.”
His eyes are wide, and the posse he’d assembled behind him has attracted quite the view. You almost feel like crying, all these eyes on you, but you’re so sick of people thinking they can walk all over you just because you’re not like your siblings.
“What the fuck is wrong with you? I’m just trying to be nice—” He grabs your wrist as you leave but you yank it hard.
“Don’t. Touch me.” People are staring at you now, but the only one you care about is Luke, who looks equally ticked and equally proud, and all you want to do is kiss him. “Hope the only time we confer tomorrow is if somebody’s sword is at your throat.”
It’s the last thing you say to him. He starts to go after you but Luke is already at your heels. “Back off, man.” You can spot how all his muscles are already rearing themselves for a fight. You wrap a hand around his wrist, and he meets your eyes. Not now.
The altercation is lost the second the two of you leave the bonfire. Nothing matters when Luke has you in his arms, kissing you outside of your cabin, telling you how damn beautiful you looked.
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You’re fixing a new Ares boy’s armour when Luke finds you. “Hey, angel,” he says, leaning down to press a kiss to your cheek. He relishes in the way your face heats up. “You ready for battle?”
You smile, “Always.” You pat the kid on the cheek and send him on his way. He gnashes his teeth and roars, joining his siblings at the front. Luke catches the longing in your expression.
“All good?” He asks gently.
It takes you a second for your eyes to meet his. “Mmhm,” you swallow. “Just hope his armour doesn’t fall off.”
Luke sighs for a moment, then wraps his arms around you. “He’ll be fine, sweetheart. Be safe, okay? Stay close.” He kisses your temple, rubbing circles on the nape of your neck.
“Yes sir,” you reply against his chest. His insides flutter.
He pulls your face up to his and kisses you, tender and wanting. “Let’s show these hooligans who’s boss,” he quips.
“You’ll show them. I’ll hide in the woods until some idiot comes along and tries to ambush you.”
Your dulcet tone has him wrapped around your finger, and you don’t even know it. “You’ve always got my back,” he croons, kissing your brow.
“And you’ve always got our flag.”
You kiss him again and he lets you slip out of his arms no matter how badly he wants to keep you there forever. He watches you vanish into the trees, and his heart goes with you.
He gears up with his team and the horn sounds. Game on.
There’s yelling, sweat, adrenaline, and Luke embraces it all like a man starved. This is his chance to be ruthless, to let all his untapped rage cycle through him. This is why he’s unstoppable. This is why he’s the best.
Clarisse is unusually cooperative today, but competent as always, and whenever someone’s weapon breaks or they lose their team she just barks at them to go find you. You, the smartest person in Ares, who can mend a weapon with nothing but blades of grass and determination. Luke is pretty sure your cabin would be lost without you. He wonders if you know.
The groove of the game has fully enthralled him. He’s alert, his wrist nimble, his sword a living, breathing part of him. There’s almost nothing that can take him out of his victory path until he hears one of the younger campers tell Clarisse he can’t find you anymore.
Whatever nincompoop he’s dealing with is left groaning on the floor. “What?” He barks, hand flexing around his sword. “Where is she?”
“Probably just moved,” Clarisse grunts as she kicks back an opposing camper. “She knows where everything is. Maybe she’s—oof—safer.”
“But how am I supposed to fix my spear?” The kid frowns.
Luke runs his tongue along the roof of his mouth, dry and laden with salt. He told you to stay close. Where would you go? “I’ll find her,” he decides, already sheathing his sword to walk towards the trees.
“Luke—”
“I’ll find her!”
He barely pays attention to the calamity going on around him. With a flick of his wrist he knows he can take out any person he wants. The second he gets to the trees, where the air is cooler, it’s startling how much quieter it is. No wonder this is your preferred hiding spot.
He thanks the quiet a thousand times over because if it had been any louder he wouldn’t have heard you scream.
It’s so short it’s almost indiscernible, but he knows it’s you based on how his body movies before his brain does. It snaps something in him, the adrenaline transformed into something acerbic, determined.
“Don’t fucking scream again.” A cluster of boys are stationed around you. You’re leaning back in the dirt. You barely feel the earth sticking to your skin. Just your heart jostling madly, your fingertips shaking in the ground beside you. “Okay, I won’t, just put the sword down—”
The snarling Aphrodite boy from last night takes a swing at you, and you scramble back just enough to avoid it. “No can do, doll.” His face is twisted with rage. The lackeys he had when you told him off are there too, cornering you against a cluster of trees like you’re some caged animal. There’s a dagger clenched in one of your dirt-ridden fists but you know it won’t do you any good. You can’t fight; you don’t have it in you. But these boys do. And they’re angry.
“Tell me where the flag is,” he orders. The tip of his blade comes under your chin, fogging up with the labours of your breath, your head pressed against the trunk of a tree.
You stutter, “You’re not—You’re not supposed to threaten like this—”
“You embarrassed me in front of all those people yesterday,” he cuts you off. “Thinking you’re so fucking smart. I didn’t even say anything that big a deal but you run your mouth to the entire camp and make me look like the idiot. I thought you were nice.”
The words are laced with poison. You know from the wild look in his eyes that this isn’t about the flag at all.
Tears sting your eyes and the sword grazes your throat. Of course this is happening to you. The one time you feel your father’s rage, when you exemplify the thing you’re told to be, you are punished.
You are never going to be the right kind of daughter.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” you try to say it evenly, but your breath is so ragged it’s barely audible. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said all that.” You mean it, but they won’t care.
The boy’s face looks pleased at your tears. It makes you inexorably ashamed. “Some fucking Ares kid,” he snorts. “Can’t even fight, can you? Can’t even pretend to.” His sword leaves your throat and travels up to your quivering jaw. You’re wordless, white-knuckling the dagger at your side, praying that Luke is somewhere nearby.
“No wonder they stash you back here. You’re useless.” His eyes scan every part of you, and the idea of him knowing what you look like forever is so revolting it makes you want to vanish. “Too bad you’re alone, though. Nobody’s gonna know I was here because nobody’s gonna hear you.”
Your eyes get wide, and something in your mind rumbles through you like an engine. An urge buried in your blood.
Your dagger tears into his leg just as his sword dashes your arm. The pain is sharp, stinging, but the boy winces and you know you hurt him too. It gives you just enough time to roll out of the way as he lurches forward. “The fuck is wrong with you?” He swears.
Blood drips onto your shorts, splotched with tears. You know you can’t go anywhere because his friends are here and you’re almost certain you’ll be maimed, but you tried. At least you tried.
The Aphrodite boy picks his sword back up, stalks towards you, and then freezes.
Because Luke has just spotted you. And he’s spotted the boy that has you on the ground.
And he’s the best fucking swordsman Camp Half-Blood has seen in three hundred years.
“If you don’t get away from her right now I’m putting this through your skull.” He emerges from the foliage, his sword raised, sweat dripping down his face. You have never seen anyone look angrier. He has never felt angrier.
The boy blanches, and Luke sees how easily his lapdog friends shrink in his presence. Good.
“Woah, easy,” the boy holds his hands up in mock surrender and tries to flash a smile but it’s just fucking pathetic. His arms are shaking and his throat bobs about a million times. “We’re just playing the game.”
“Like hell you are,” Luke spits. “You gang up on my girlfriend and you expect me to believe this is fair play? Want me to tie you all together and push one of you off a cliff to keep the spirit going?”
“Didn’t know she was yours,” the boy tries to shrug but again, it’s a miserable attempt that only makes Luke feel stronger.
“Not that it matters but yes, you do,” Luke chuckles thickly. “I beat your ass in sword training last week. You know exactly who I am. And I’m sure you know who you are, so it’s obvious you’re playing out of your league here.”
Out of the corner of his eye he sees you still cowering, blood dribbling down your arm. He wants to tear the world apart. “Apologize and maybe I don’t send you to the infirmary.”
“We just want the flag, man,” the boy swallows.
“And I want your head on a stick. Want to see who gets what first?”
It’s too provocative an insult for a moron like this to ignore, so soon Luke has the pleasure of disarming five bitter boys that have clearly never been good at a single thing in their life. He tears through them like sheets of paper, knocking them to the dirt, ripping their clothes. He thinks of you, just you, your honest heart and patient hands, and it’s enough to fuel him for a millennia.
The last boy, the leader, is at Luke’s mercy, and he has none to give. The flat of Luke’s blade is pressed horizontally against the boy’s neck, an angering similarity to the position he had you in earlier. “If you ever do this again, I’m going to kill you.”
“You’re—fucking—crazy—” The boy wheezes, the length of the blade squeezing his throat against a tree trunk. “I’ll—I‘ll tell Chiron.”
Luke has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep him from doing something he regrets. “Oh yeah? You want me to tell Chiron how you harassed and terrorised a girl in the middle of the forest all in the name of play? Want me to tell him what you said to her last night at the campfire? Because I’m sure it won’t take much for him to get rid of your ugly face as it is, and I’m a camp counsellor.”
He knows it’s not the most morally correct use of his title. He knows he might be stepping over the line. But he also knows you’re always being ignored or trampled over and he’s tired of pretending like he doesn’t give a damn. He’s tired of people trying to force you into something you’re not. Of you crying in his bed at night because they’re trying to drag a violence out of you that isn’t there. Always in the name of fucking play.
Luke takes the sword off the boy’s neck and shoves him backwards. His calf is bleeding, not a deep wound, but a wound nonetheless, and Luke is full of pride when he realizes you did that. The boy’s bad leg makes him wobble and fall at the force of the push. Luke enjoys watching the scramble. “I—I was just trying to be nice, it’s not my fault she took it the wrong way!” The boy flails his hands in the air, rising to his feet again, and Luke shoves him down twice as hard. A piece of his shirt tears off in Luke’s hand.
“You’ve gotta stop talking or I really am going to kill you,” he seethes. “Don’t touch her ever again. Go.”
Luke is sure he looks homicidal right now because the guy finally tumbles his way down the hill. His body fades into the distance, swallowed up by shrubbery and sweat.
The second he’s gone Luke tosses his sword and armour and gets back to you. “Shit,” he mutters, kneeling down. You’re still shaking, your head in your arms, and all his hatred morphs into a love so desperate it terrifies him. “Angel, come here. Let me see.” He lifts your face with his hands and scans you rapidly. “Did he hurt you anywhere else? Anywhere?”
“Just my arm,” you whimper. “My arm.”
He knows it’s not the cut that’s hurting you; it’s long, but thin, and it’s not bleeding too thickly. He takes the cloth from the Aphrodite boy’s shirt and wraps it around your arm, knotting it at the end. “All right, that should be better.”
You look at him with watery eyes, and he knows all you need is for him to hold you. He folds you in his arms and leans against a stump. You can’t get close to him fast enough. The tip of your nose buries itself in his neck and he feels the dampness of your cheeks on his skin. “It’s okay, sweetheart, you’re safe,” he soothes, pressing a kiss to your hair. “I’m so sorry.”
Guilt swaths over him for a brief moment; he wonders if he shouldn’t have done all that, if he should’ve been more sensible. Then your lips form a ‘thank you’ against his skin and all is forgotten.
You feel so small. The shock is still running its course, so all you can do is cry it out. Your hands still shake when you thread your fingers through Luke’s necklace to steady them. He soothes you the best he can, running his hand along your spine, all the sharpness of his voice softened just for you. “You’re all right, angel. I’m not going anywhere.”
You stay like that for a while. The sounds of the forest return to you; leaves in the wind, birds chirping, Luke’s breath tickling your hair. You crane your head up to nuzzle your nose against the faint stubble of his jaw. “My hero,” you murmur, and feel his skin shift as he smiles.
“Couldn’t have done it without you. Saw the cut you gave him on his leg.” He kisses your temple. “I hope it gets infected.”
You giggle weakly no matter how you try smothering it in his chest. “Gods, you’re awful.”
“He deserves it! I probably should have killed him!”
“You came pretty close, didn’t you?” You mumble. Luke’s expression is wary, but you smile to yourself and it dispels everything. “I was hoping you’d come.”
“Good. Serves them right, messing with you like that. Fucking idiots.” He kisses your face again for good measure, “You sure they didn’t get you anywhere else, princess?”
You nod but you know you look wounded. You nudge into the crook of Luke’s neck again. “They … you know, it’s just … the usual stuff.” Every word weighs a pound as it comes out. Your heart feels sore.
Luke tenses again instantly. “What usual stuff?”
“Um, just—” The shame gets caught in your throat. “They all think I’m useless, Luke. Why can’t I do this right?”
You start to cry again, but he just holds you closer. Sometimes it surprises you how much patience he has. He prides himself as the harsher one between the two of you, but you don’t know who he’s fooling with the way he always knows how to comfort people.
“I don’t know what to do,” you continue, blinking back tears, “I’m not—I’m just not good at this, I don’t know why I’m in Ares, I don’t know why I can’t … be that. Why is he my father? I’m no good at being angry. I want to be angry.”
Luke’s quiet for a moment. Nothing changes except his hand rubbing circles on the nape of your neck again. Then he sighs deeply and says, “You don’t owe your father a damn thing. You don’t owe anyone anything.” He’s resolute, firm, a sharp contrast to his gentle kiss on your hairline. “You’re the smartest, most generous person I know. You need those people in battle. You’ll lose if you don’t.”
The warmth of his skin prompts you to look up at him. He looks different so often, the way he can shift between so tough and so gentle. Sometimes, like now, he’s caught in the middle, the remains of a furious sweat hardening his face, but his eyes are nothing but tender. You think it’s how you like him best.
“Besides, we’re not our parents, right? Who cares about Ares anyway?” Luke shrugs.
“Luke! Don’t say that!” your tears turn into a giggle. “The Gods might punish you!”
“I’ll handle it. There’s enough fight in me for the both of us.”
“Okay, tough guy,” you mutter with a weak smile.
You’re still sniffling. He runs his thumbs across your cheeks, and his gaze softens. “You’re an Ares kid because you are a fighter, angel. You just fight a hell of a lot smarter than the rest of us. Best one I know. Well, other than me.”
It makes you smile. “So second-best?”
“Tied for first.”
He kisses you with that stupid roguish smile. It’s salty with tears and sweat, but it mends your heart anyway. There is nowhere in the world you’d feel safer.
“I love you,” he says against your cheek. “Be as sweet as you want. If anyone has anything to say about it I’ll mess ‘em up good.” Your face warms as his voice drops to your ear, “And I know you’re an Ares kid because you’ll encourage it every time. You might not have a violent bone in your body, but you sure don’t have a problem with me using mine.”
“Diplomatically, Luke. Diplomatically.”
“Sure, sure. Whatever you want.”
You can’t help but kiss him again. You’re not entirely sure why he loves you so much, why you love him so much, but you never feel quite as secure as when you’re with him.
Cheers boom from the other side of camp. Luke’s head perks up like a dog, and you turn back to search for spots of red or blue. “Did we win?” You ask, craning your head to get a better view.
“Don’t care,” Luke says.
You look back at him. His anxious face says it all. “Yes, you do.”
“Okay yes, I do, and I need to see if those douches found our flag so I can choke them out with it.”
You laugh, standing so Luke can jog off to see the state of your team. But before he goes, he picks you up and smothers you in kisses, holding you like you’re his prize.
You are not a fighter, but your boyfriend sure is. And you’re perfectly okay with that.
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mickyschumacher · 5 months
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𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐅𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 .ೃ࿐
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𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: after seeing you with play with some young fans you and charles meet on the streets of monaco, charles can't get his mind off having his own. or in which, charles has got a case of the baby fever. 𝐏𝐓. 𝟐 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄!
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: established relationship, fluff, 18+ (minors DNI), unprotected sex (wrap it if u don't want babies), breeding kink (obvi), charles meeting the bare minimum requirement to be a good human (lmao), slight lactation kink, mutual orgasms, handjob, pussy rubbing(?), reader is sensitive as shit, google translated french (my bad to the french speakers), a questionable perversion of having children that always comes with this context, also questionable whether this qualifies as baby fever but yeh
𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: charles leclerc x fem!reader
𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 3k+
𝐀/𝐍: wrote this one when i first started if you can't tell by the mention of pedro and tlou! my absence explained in another post! ♡︎
𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
⋆  •°.  。  .°•  ⋆
Charles loved his fans, especially Tifosi. After you, his family and friends, they were the most important people in his lives and constantly motivated him. Most of them were kind and sweet to him and loved and cherished you more than they loved him.
That's why whenever fans asked for photos with you, the both of you or autographs, Charles always accepted. He rarely refused them unless the fans gave off a certain vibe that rubbed him the wrong way; crazed fans or fans who liked you a little bit too much for his liking.
His favourite fans normally, however, were children. It was definitely pressurising to have that many children look up to him but Charles found it rewarding. They were so young and full of dreams that he could help fulfil. They always looked at him wide-eyed with their jaws open as if they had just seen an angel walk by, similarly to how Charles reacted when he had first seen you in the streets of Monaco.
Today was no exception. It was currently the mid-season break and you two were roaming the partially empty streets after having breakfast out, relishing in the privacy of Monaco. Halfway through your walk, you and Charles had bumped into some small fans, literally.
A set of 3-year old twin sisters and a boy who only seemed a year or two older had run to Charles and you yelling 'Charles!' and 'It's Ferrari!'.
Charles instantly was smiling at them, crouching down to talk to them and entertain all their bombarding questions that flew one after the other.
"Is the car really that fast?"
"Can I go in the car?!"
"I hope you win!"
You chuckled softly as Charles answered them with ease. You looked at the parents who also seemed to be equally as excited as their children. "Do you want me to take a photo for you guys?" You inquired softly.
The parents looked at you with wide eyes. "Can you? If it's no bother!" The father fretted, sharing a slightly alarmed expression with his wife.
You shook your head and smiled. "It's not a problem." They held out their phone and you took it into your hands, opening the camera. You hummed as you looked at the group. "Let's do three photos. One with the three angels, one with the parents and one family one?" You asked.
The parents were about to nod when the kids suddenly refused. "Four! We want one with a pretty girl!" One of the sisters yelled out, pointing at you.
Your mouth fell open while your body flushed with slight embarrassment. Charles grinned at you, agreeing with the children profusely. You gave a playful sigh and nodded. The children and parents began to poise for the camera several times and left the last one for you to take a selfie with them.
The parents turned to Charles, inviting him into a conversation as they apologised for the kids running to him all of a sudden.
You could hear Charles say it was fine when you felt a tug at the bottom your dress. You crouched down to the children who now crowded you.
The boy looked at you wide-eyed while the two girls poked your arm and asked "Are you a princess?"
You smiled softly. "I am!" You implored, "How did you know?" You asked in a hushed tone.
The children giggled. "Princesses are always pretty, that's why!" The boy said with red cheeks.
You hummed, pondering over the statement. You brought your hand out to pat the girls' heads and pinch the little boy's chubby cheeks. "That must mean all of you are also princesses and princes, hmm?"
The children cheered in agreement, giggling to themselves before discussing who was the best prince or princesses out of them all.
"I'm the best prince!" One sister said, putting her hands on her hips in determination. Her older brother looked at her almost offended. "How can that be? I'm the best. I'm older."
The other sister looked at her siblings dumbfounded. "Why can't we all be the best?" She sighed.
You grinned at her answer. "You're right! You are all the best. Equally. You know why?" You asked.
Three pair of big eyes looked at you with curiosity swirling within them as they shook their small heads 'no'.
You brought their hands together and held them in your palm. "Because you're siblings. You're family. That's the best."
The kids stared at you blankly, probably trying digest your words as much as they could at that age. The previous sister smiled widely, letting out a deafening yell, running to her mother. "Did you hear that, maman? We're all the best!" She screamed with joy.
You stood from the ground slowly, grinning at all the kids. "I did. We all heard that, ma cherié. It's true!" The mother chorused, giving you a thankful smile.
You smiled in response, shaking your head as if it was nothing. The parents and kids began to say goodbye to you and Charles, although the latter did so rather reluctantly as you walked over to your boyfriend.
You raised a brow at the dazed expression on Charles' face. "Cha? Mon amour, what's going on in that head of yours?" You hooked your arm with his, resting your head on his shoulder.
Charles blinked. "Hmm? Oh, nothing. Just thinking about those kids. Cute, right?" He breathed out, pressing a kiss to the side of your head.
You smiled. "Very," You agreed as the two of you began to walk to Charles' car.
━━━━━━━━━━━
Arriving home, the two of you decided to lounge in your living room, not bothered to do anything else for the day. You had managed to put on the newest episode of 'The Last of Us', eager to find out what was happening next.
You and Charles laid on the couch; your head resting on his chest while he cuddled you from behind. You were intently watching Pedro Pascal after being besieged with edit after edit of him on TikTok. Charles on the other hand wasn't focusing at all.
All he could think about what those kids you and him had met earlier that morning. Specifically, you conversing with them. You hadn't realised since you were so caught up with them, but at one point him and the parents had stopped talking and tuned into your conversation with the kids.
Charles had talked to you about kids before. You both wanted them and although Charles always talked about having three kids specifically, just like him and his brothers, he would leave it up to whatever you wanted because at the end of the day, it was you giving birth, not him. He would prefer to have children when he was slightly a bit more older, you both had more control over his life, and obviously with at least one championship under his belt.
But after today, Charles was prepared to throw that plan away. As lewd as it was, the idea of you getting you pregnant and having a family not only touched his heart, but immorally touched his cock.
Knowing that he would have to ensure that his cum was entirely within you, stuffed into your cervix, and not letting a single drop come out made him feel feral. To make matters worse, you would look like a goddess when pregnant because hell, you were so beautiful now. Round and full with his child because he made sure to fuck you till you were overflowing with his cum. Or when your breasts became heavy and sensitive to his touch, leaking sporadically, giving him the opportunity to clean you up with his mouth.
God, he was an animal. The worst.
"Charles, what are you doing?" Your voice erupted into the air, breaking him out of his deep train of thought.
Charles blinked at your question in confusion before he looked down, seeing his hand traversing under your dress and up your inner thigh. He looked over to your amused eyes peering at him.
"Sorry," He let out with a sigh, rubbing the warm flesh of your thigh softly. "I just... I can't stop thinking about children."
You raised a brow, not seeing the correlation to Charles' wondering hand. "Children?" You iterated, running a hand through his hair.
Charles shut his eyes at your actions, feeling at ease. "Those kids today... make me want our own children. Now. I want to have children now."
Charles peeked his eyes open, looking at your astounded expression with a bit of fear. "What about our plans? What was it? Thirty-three, a championship, lives under control, and then children?" You queried. "I-I'm not mad or anything, Cha. Just curious. Why the change of heart all of sudden?
You had now turned to face Charles, knees on either side of him, straddling his lap as you became fully attentive to him.
Charles played with the tresses of your hair that had fallen past your face before tucking them gently behind your ear. "You would just make such a good mother, mon ange. You're so sweet and kind. You now how to talk to them. God, pregnancy would look so good on you. I can't stop thinking about you pregnant," Charles let out a small moan a thought. "You all round with our child, hormonal, sensitive at my touch."
Charles' fingers brushed over your neck, making you shudder involuntarily. You melted at his words. Charles thought a great deal of you. You weren't opposed to the idea either, in fact all of his words were making you hornier by the minute.
"You know what?" You queried, "I also want to have children. You would make an amazing father, Cha. I know you would," You softly said, pressing a brief kiss to his lips.
Charles pulled away, boring his gaze into you. "Yeah?" He whispered, eyes soft and full of lust and love.
"Yeah," You repeated. "A father of all three," You teased, giving him a small knowing smile.
Charles' eyes darkened slightly at your words. His hands rested on your hips, his half-hard on in his pants turned harder, pressing into your clothed pussy. "Mon amour," He whispered into your ear, making the hairs on your body stand straight. "Should I fuck a baby into you?" He pulled his face back, waiting for your answer.
You sunk your teeth into your bottom lip, relishing in his words. "If you're going to fuck a baby in me, Charles, you better do it right the first time."
Charles groaned, grinning at your words. Staring at you with a fiery gaze, he quickly brought you down into a hungry kiss. His grip on your hips tightened while your hands became entangled in his hair. Another groan fell against your lips when you tugged at his locks.
Your heart slammed against your chest, beating loudly in your ears. Your skin was heated with Charles' touch ravaging all over you; grazing your arms, squeezing your ass only for you to press further into him. Your stomach surged with desire, feeling his clothed cock grind into you. "Fuck," Your swollen lips uttered out, high with an intoxicating buzz circulating your veins.
"Charles, I need–" You began only to be cut off by your own whimper as Charles bucked his hips up into you, setting a pace of stimulation with the tent of his pants and the gritty material of his shorts.
Charles smiled at the sight of your head thrown back and your back arching. "What do you need, ma cherié? Hmm? Tell me and I'll give it to you, my love," He sighed out, feeling his cock ache in its restraints.
"Fuck, j'ai besoin de ta bite, Charles," You murmured, feeling the temperature of your body rise with every passing second. Fuck, I need your cock, Charles.
Charles grinned at your use of French so early on. Normally when you were nearing your climax, you would lose yourself to all the French you knew. "As you wish, princesse," He stated. "Let's get this off, hmm?" He began to slid down the straps of your dress, pressing warm kisses on your shoulder. The sight of your bare breasts made him sigh in content, licking a strip from the base of your neck and down the valley of your breasts.
You felt a shiver crawl up your spine, feeling Charles' hands wander down your back while he pushed the fabric past your ass, hooking his fingers under your the waistband of your panties. You lifted your body up, aiding him in getting rid of your dress and underwear.
You settled back down on Charles' lap, pushing your wet core against his clothed cock. Charles nipped at your neck, dazed at the feeling of your pussy on him. Your hands reached out, rushing to get those shorts and shirt off of him. Pulling his shirt of him, you placed a trail of kisses down his chest. You could feel his lower stomach tense as you neared his waistband. With a grin, impatiently, you took off his shorts and the boxers underneath.
Your stomach churned and pussy throbbed at Charles' red, aching cock springing up, begging to be touched. You flickered your sultry gaze to your boyfriend, reaching over to put your fingers in his mouth.
Charles maintained eye-contact, lubing your fingers generously with his spit before he felt a shudder rip through him when you teasingly pushed your pussy to graze the angry tip of his cock.
"Vous taquinez," Charles uttered out almost with a whine after you removed your fingers. You tease.
"Don't be too sad, mon amour," You breathed out, trailing your wet fingers over his v-line before wrapping them around his cock. Charles sucked in a sharp breath as your hand began move up and down his shaft, mixing his spit and his pre-cum together, giving him a new, unique shine of his own.
"You wanted to see me pregnant, right? Full of your cum. So pregnant that everyone will know in a few months that you fucked me that good," You started, eyes trained on him while you pumped his cock with a tantalising grip. "We need a lot of your cum today. I'm just getting you prepared," You purred.
Charles let out a series of high moans, letting your words wash all over him and mix with his euphoria. His fingers reached out to your wet folds, stroking your heated slip with need. You trembled at his touch, bucking your hip against his fingers, increasing the pace of your hand on his cock.
Both of you moaned loudly while you jerked each other off, breathy sounds bouncing off the walls of your apartment. "Merde," Charles swore, pressing his head further into the couch, hips sensitively bucking into your hand as you brushed the slit of his cock.
He pushed himself, refusing to slack at your pleasure. He rubbed your pussy, groaning at the wet, glistening folds that were coating his fingers. You moaned, feeling a familiar buzzing pool in your stomach. "I need to," Charles panted out, covering your hand with his to stop you, "I need to..." He trailed off once again, pulling you closer to him.
Charles could barely think straight. He didn't know what he was saying or what he was doing. All he knew was that he needed to feel your pussy against his cock.
A guttural whimper escaped your mouth when Charles rubbed his cock against your folds. God, the both of you could get off just like this. He sighed out, eyes clouded with pleasure while he bathed in the warmth of your pussy. He could feel you jerk time to time against him, sensitive from nearing your climax.
You were was a sight to behold. You couldn't control your hips or yourself. You were just so receptive, automatically rubbing your pussy and clit up and down the head of cock. Your head falling back, supported by air while your back arched with lust. Sweat clung to your warmed body and your dry hair was now coated in a light sheen of grease. Face contorted with pleasure and flushed with heat.
"I'm gonna cum, fuck," Charles hissed out, partially angry that he already was about to climax but how could he not at such a view and feeling?
You blinked through your pleasure, remembering how you had gotten into this situation in the first place. You pushed your hips to him, hovering over his cock and sliding down onto him. You whimpered, feeling full with his throbbing cock in you.
Charles groaned, feeling your warm walls clench around him as you began to move your hips up and down. He watched your breasts bounce, making him flicker to that thought of them being full with milk once he got you pregnant. He would be selfish and have a taste of them himself.
Your pussy was a siphon, drawing and pulling his cock even further into you. Charles placed his hands on your hips, pushing you down on his cock to ensure he was balls-deep within you, fully sheathed. The breathy air was now replaced with both of your lewd moans and the sound of your skin slapping and sticking against one another.
"Merde, merde," Charles began to chant, increasing the pace of his hips snapping and rutting into your folds. Your hands fell to his own hands, tightening around them as pleasure bubbled at the pits of your stomach.
"Fuck, Charles. Cum in me, mon amour. Fais de moi une mère. Hmm? Imagine it. I'll be even more sensitive, my tits will be heavy and sore with milk and I'll ask you to massage them... everyone will know what we did," You moaned loudly. Make me a mother.
Charles's hips came to a halt, shaking with pleasure while he poured ropes and ropes of his hot cum deep into your walls. He let out staggered moans, feeling you clench around him and take even more of his load. Charles pressed his swollen lips onto your, kissing you dizzy while he thrusted out his high, ensuring his cum was staying within you.
Charles sighed out, pressing his forehead against yours. Realising you were once again on the brink of cumming, with his cock still in you, he brought his fingers to your engorged clit, rubbing the sensitive nub gently yet harshly.
He felt your walls grip him even tighter if possible as you began to convulse in his arms. "Jesus fucking Christ," You sobbed out, waves of your euphoric climax hitting you.
Christ, you were so sensitive, hips jerking up against his fingers, grinding to maximise your stimulation. He couldn't even stop you if he wanted to.
"Merde, ma cherié, cum for me. Yes, just like that," Charles coaxed, groaning as you somehow managed to get more cum out of him.
You let out a final whimper before collapsing onto him, feeling Charles' softening cock drive and push the cum deeper into you. You let out a low moan against his chest.
Charles pushed your chin up with his finger, looking into your eyes. He smiled, pressing a slow, soft kiss to your lips. "You did so well, mon amour," He praised, running a hand through your sweaty hair, getting a better glance of your face.
You gave him a weak smile, peering up at him through your eyelashes. "You think we did a good job?" You queried, voice quiet and tired. "You think we'll have a child soon?"
Charles grinned at you, planting another kiss on the side of your head. "If I didn't, I'll fuck you again and make sure that test has two lines."
𝐏𝐓. 𝟐 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄!
© 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐘𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑
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rebeccccccaaa · 10 days
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Poker Face!
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Spencer Reid x Reader
:: It’s game night at Rossi’s, a little pasta al dente, poker chips from Emily’s place, and a little too much Italian red wine. Poker after hours becomes a new playing field when you and Spencer decide to finish your game of blackjack back in his place. ::
:: warnings :: smuttt! and super mushy gushy fluff, sex under the influence (both parties drank alcohol), strip poker (kinda you’re playing blackjack), afab!reader, no mention of contraceptives oops...
:: authors’ notes :: i didn’t realize until i finished the story that spencer probably has his own poker set, he’s literally from vegas; anyway thanks for all the love on my last fic too sweet, hope you guys enjoy this one just as much <3
WC~ 3.1 k
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“Ok, ok! That’s enough!” Emily shouted, swinging her glass around. 
“Careful, Prentiss. This carpet is fine Italian wool. Gifted from my first mother-in-law,” Rossi scolded, Hotch chuckling beside him. 
“You guys are relentless,” she continued.
“I can beat him, I know it!” you shouted, your eyes comically wide. 
“No shot, sweetheart. Reid is literally banned from every casino in Vegas, you think you can really beat him?” Derek commented.
“I may not be banned from Vegas casinos, but I never lose Blackjack,” you argued.
“Honey, you’ve lost eight games in a row!” JJ shouted, laughing and holding her stomach. 
“Nevermind that! I’m gonna beat you Reid, if it's the last thing I do,” you narrowed your eyes playfully at Spencer, who sat as dealer with a giant grin on his face.
“I hate to interrupt this incredibly captivating game of Blackjack, but I’m kicking you out. It's late and an old man’s got to get some rest,” Rossi interrupted, erupting a series of ‘Boo’s’ and groans. 
“Come on, come on. Call your DD’s, call your taxi cabs. Or if you want to stay, you can start washing the dishes,” he bargained. 
Suddenly, all at once, everyone stood up practically scrambling and giggling like kids to avoid cleaning up. Penelope, Emily, and Derek hopped into a cab and Hotch drove JJ home then himself considering he hadn't anything to drink that night. That left you and Spencer, lingering on the sidewalk nudging each other in a fit of giggles. 
“I assume you’re gonna take a cab?” he asked you.
“That’s the plan.”
“So we can share since I don’t live far from you. I’ll walk from your place,” he suggested. 
“Oh no, no. Look what I snatched when everyone started leaving,” you pulled out the briefcase of poker chips that Emily had brought for that night out of your tote, “We’re going to your place and finishing what we started.” 
“Oh boy, you have no idea how long it's gonna take. We’re gonna be up all night!” Spencer laughed, and you gasped. 
“You’re an asshole,” you shoved him, before calling a taxi.
You squeezed in the back of the cab, legs bumping against each other. You felt your skin light up, you’ve always felt a certain way about Spencer. I mean who wouldn’t? Well actually, not a lot of people. You always tried to hide the pangs of jealousy or your faces of reluctance whenever the women you were working with or interviewed on cases would flirt with him, unnecessarily albeit. This happened more often than you care to admit or notice. 
You walked into Spencer’s apartment, tossing your bag on the couch before falling to your knees and putting the briefcase on his coffee table. You opened it up and began shuffling the cards, quite intensely to make sure Spencer wasn’t going to cheat. You knew he wasn’t, his brain was too smart, but you did it for confidence instead. 
“Do you want anything to drink?” he asked from the kitchen.
“Whatcha you got?” you asked.
“I’ve got a couple of beers, probably a little old. Oh, I still have the bottle of wine that Rossi gave to us for the new year,” he told you.
“Oh! Bring the wine! We’ll drink the beers later,” you winked at him, “Let’s get the fucking party started.”
It was late into the night now. You lost count how many times you’d lost to Spencer already. Just a couple of hours passed, and the wine was almost finished. You and Spencer couldn’t stop laughing and wiggling around. As Spencer shuffled the deck, a request you made him do after every turn, you came up with a devilish idea. One that would definitely get you in trouble should the outcome be anything other than what you would hope. 
“Ooh,” you cooed, mischievously.
“What?” Spencer questioned.
“Oh, nothing, just had an idea,” you were smirking, or rather trying really hard not to burst into laughter. 
“This can’t be good,” he mumbled, shaking his head. 
“Why don’t we spice things up, shall we?”
“No, no way,” Spencer already knew what you were going to say. 
“Strip Poker!” 
“No!” he shouted, a big smile on his face contradicting his words.
“What, you scared? Scared that suddenly I’m starting to beat you and you’re gonna have to take all your clothes off?” you teased.
“No, I am a gentleman and I’m not gonna sit through watching you take all your clothes to prove a point,” he argued sassily.
“You are way too confident for your own good, Dr. Spencer Reid. You’re just chicken.”
“Ok, fine then. You dealer, or am I?” he asked, pouring the last bit of wine into your cup. 
“Why don’t you hit me this time,” you said. 
“You got it,” he responded, “Care to shuffle while I grab the beers?”
“Of course. About time we crack those open,” you smiled widely. 
Now sitting down, face to face. Staring intensely at each other for a moment, hints of mischief and amusement in both your eyes. As you shuffled the cards well, Spencer couldn’t help notice the way your eyes were practically sparkling in the warm light of his apartment. How soft your skin looked in the light too. He doesn’t know when it happened. If it happened just now, or maybe he’s always felt this way about you. 
Maybe it was those times where he felt a little more protective over you than the others on more brutal cases. The feeling of responsibility for you, to guide you, when you first join the team since you were the same age. Or maybe it was when you let him practically talk your ear off about peculiar facts regarding the case you had wrapped up. The small smile of your face knowing he thrived in these moments. The sweet giggle you let out when Morgan and Prentiss groaned knowing he would begin yet another tangent. 
Yeah, it was definitely then he realized how special you were and how much he wanted to keep you in his life; in more ways than one.
But in this moment, when you handed him the cards with the most devilish smirk on your face, Spencer felt a wave of avidity, longing for you more than he ever has before. He felt so conflicted about the game you were about to play. He respected you so much and yet craved to see you, to have you, in this very way for so long already. He didn’t know what to do. He dealt the cards however, entertaining the idea, and you tapped the table for cards before taking a big swig of your beer.
“Fuck,” you muttered under your breath, Spencer’s breath hitched. 
You took off your earrings first and Spencer quirked an eyebrow. 
“What? Were you expecting me to take off my shirt right away?”
“No,” he shrugged before giving you the deck to shuffle again. 
“I swear to-” you cursed, pulling off one of your rings this time.
Your shoes came off, then your socks. All your accessories were scattered on the table before you. The last game you stood up unbuttoning your pants. Spencer clenched his jaw, averting his eyes downward as you peeled your pants down your legs. It took quite literally everything in him to not drool over you. You sank back down to the ground, the bottom half of your body shielded by the table and Spencer looked back at you again. He dealt the cards. You asked for a card, and Spencer knew then you would lose. The probability was certain. When he hit Blackjack and you didn’t, Spencer gulped and you sighed in defeat. 
Staring boldly at Spencer, you disrobed your last garment that would give you some kind of modesty. Your bra is on full display with nothing else but your pair of underwear. You had a crucial decision to make if you ended up losing again and you were seriously considering that would be the case, the butterflies erupting violently in your belly. 
“We don’t have to keep going,” Spencer cleared his throat.
“And why would I do that?” Maybe it was the alcohol in your system that gave you this sudden courage, this seduction. You were starting to have fun seeing Spencer squirming on the couch, the bobbing of his Adam’s apple. You suddenly wanted to egg this round on as long as you can. 
“Ok, then,” he muttered, as he dealt the cards, slowly this time.
Spencer had a face down card, assuming it was a value of ten like always, and an eight. You had a seven and a three, you were fucked. You needed an ace and you’d hit blackjack, or you could build up; but that’s risky. Maybe Spencer can go over. You had a chance, you know it. Your chest was moving fast and shallow, but your face was stoic and firm. Spencer on the other hand was antsy; his eyes frantic and his leg bouncing. You knew he was staring at your chest. You planned to use it to your advantage. Was it fair game? Yeah, yeah it was. It wasn’t your fault he was distracted.
“Hit me,” you egged.
“You got it,” he responded. 
A five. Fuck. 
Spencer hit himself and he drew a seven. Those are bad cards. He most likely went over and you might actually finally beat him. 
“One more time, boy wonder,” you snapped. A six. A beautiful six of hearts. 
“I stand,” he mutters, probably knowing he lost. 
“Let’s see those cards, baby,” you teased.
“You first,” he told you, and placed your cards. 
“Blackjack, baby!” 
Spencer laid his cards revealing his seven and eight and underneath a nine, he busted; the cards of course. You won, you finally won. You jumped up in celebration, prancing in your undergarments around the room giggling and cheering. 
“I did it! I fucking did it! I beat the boy genius, fair and fucking square! You lose Spencer, loser!” you shouted taunting him and he couldn’t help the smile painted in his blushing face; he almost forgot you were prancing around almost naked in the middle of his apartment. 
“I- I was distracted,” he shuttered. 
“Damn right you were,” you joked, squeezing your breasts to flaunt them in his face. 
“It wasn’t fair game,” he bantered.
“It wasn’t fair game, my ass. I won and you lost, and you’re being a sore loser,” you mocked as you walked towards him like a panther, playfulness and seduction dripping from your tongue. 
Spencer took the moment you walked near and grabbed your wrist yanking you to stumble into his lap. You were shocked, surprised, a little turned on. You held onto his shoulders, your breathing a little quicker than before. You tried to convince yourself it was from the celebratory dance and not the growing bulge from Spencer that poked you from beneath. 
“I told you, I was distracted,” he told you, his hands finding a place at their hips. Fingers caressing delicately the hem of your underwear. 
“Blah, blah,” you whispered.
“Don’t give me that.”
“Now, Spence, I believe there is something you have to do, is there not?” you whispered.
“What’s that?” he bantered.
“You lost.”
“Right, unfairly I might add,” he joked.
“If all you’re gonna do is talk, then let me do the honors,” you told him. 
“Be my guest.”
Your fingers pulled gently at his tie he wore, pulling over his head and tossing it to the side on the floor. You started unbuttoning his shirt, Spencer staring with heavy eyes at you as you did so.
“I thought we were only taking off one item. We should play another round then if you want my shirt off,” he teased you, bringing his hands to gently hold your wrists.
“Like that’s gonna happen,” you rolled your eyes playfully. 
Spencer relaxed against the back of the couch as you unbutton his shirt all the way. You brought your lips down to kiss softly at his collarbones and his shoulder. Moving along his chest to kiss the other side. His hands moved slowly against your hips, fingers sliding between the fabric of your underwear and your skin. Your skin erupted in chills, a tingle running through your spine making your ears feel hot. You dragged your nose along his strong jawline before nipping your teeth playfully against his cheek. 
He brought his hands up, fingertips tracing your spine until he reached your bra. He skillfully unhooked it leaving you a bit breathless for just a second but a second too long. You could feel it, without even needing to look at him, to know he had such a teasing smile on his gorgeous face. You wanted nothing more than to kiss it off him. 
You shrugged your bra off, tossing behind him giving him a playful wink which made him chuckle. You brought his hands to your breasts as you pulled his head towards you by the back of his neck to kiss him feverishly. Something you both had wanted to do for quite some time now. You wiggled your hips a bit, feeling the prodding against your center, which made Spencer groan lowly in the kiss; his hands squeezing your breasts hard in discomfort. 
“Fuck, you’re gonna drive me insane,” he told you.
“Let me say hi to your little friend, Spence. Or do you want to play for that too?” you taunted him.
“God, no. I couldn’t wait a whole other hour for you to beat me again,” he bantered making you scoff and roll your eyes; his hands shot straight to his zipper to pull his pants down just enough for the both of you. 
You were practically itching to get your panties off. Standing up suddenly, both you and Spencer reached instinctively to pull them off you, his lips attaching themselves to your soft belly and hips. He freed himself from the constricting fabric of his pants and pulled you down, or rather yanked you to him. You couldn’t help the bubbly laugh that came from you making Spencer smile blissfully. 
You bite your lip as you reach between your bodies, lining Spencer up against you perfectly. The warmth radiating from you was driving him crazy. It took everything in him to not suddenly take control and rut his hips against you. You sank slowly down on his length, not so little, you thought yourself.
“Oh jeez, I feel like I could come already,” you gasped, the pressure building in the pit of your stomach felt already overwhelming. Maybe it was the fact you hadn’t had sex in years. You felt starved of this kind of touch, this kind of intimacy. The kind of feeling of Spencer’s cold fingertips touching and gliding across your skin like you were glass. Yeah, that was the feeling you didn’t know you needed, you didn’t realize you craved so much until this very moment. 
“I’m a bit embarrassed to admit the same,” he chuckled breathlessly, “If you don’t start moving, I’m not gonna be able to hold myself back any longer.”
You took this as the green light to start rocking your hips back and forth. One hand resting against his cheek and the other stabilizing yourself against the frame of the couch. Spencer’s hands rocked with you, his way of helping and understanding the rhythm you were going. He started, with gaining confidence, to buck his hips into you and that’s when the pleasure began to build. You panted heavily above him, moans every now and then escaping your mouth to echo against the walls of Spencer’s small apartment. 
“Shit. You feel so good,” he breathed out, “I thought I’d last longer.”
“Please, please don’t come yet,” you begged; bringing your forehead to his. You could see his skin becoming shiny with sweat, his cheeks flush with redness. Spencer, determined to make you come before him, or at the very least with him, reached between your thighs rubbing fast and swift circles against your clit. Your hips jerked with pleasure and Spencer’s name dripped from your lips like honey. 
“Oh, that’s it,” Spencer whispered. His free hand came up and pulled you in a passionate and sloppy kiss. His tongue entwined with your and you moaned wildly as did he. His brain was fuzzy, not that your’s wasn’t also, with the sounds of sex, the rhythm of your hips, the warmth of your slick soaking his fingers. 
“I’m close, fuck I’m so close, Spence,” you whined.
“Let go, sweetheart.”
“Ngh!” you moaned loudly. You dipped your head forward resting your forehead in the crook of his neck. Your bodies were so close, your bare chests pressed against each other. You both could feel the other’s breath and slowly you began to match each other’s erratic rhythm the closer you got to your climaxes. You messily pressed your lips against Spencer’s one last time before the wave of electrifying pleasure overcame you. 
When you came down from your high, all you could feel and hear in that moment was Spencer. His soft pants brushing your ear, his arms cradling you close, his subtle leg shaking from what you assume was him also coming with you. 
“That was really good,” you giggled.
“It really was,” he agreed.
“I’m gonna tell everyone about this,” you whispered wickedly. 
“What?” Spencer questioned fearfully. 
“I beat you in Blackjack,” you reminded him, making him laugh loudly. 
“Give it a rest you would?” he sighed. 
“No way. I’m gonna tell everyone. And everyone’s gonna tease you because I beat you fair and square. Unless, you wanna admit that my boobs were distracting you from your card counting tricks,” you teased.
“Alright, you won fair and square,” he smiled blissfully at you, his eyes soft and gentle in the warm light.
You giggled sweetly bringing him in a tender kiss, definitely not for the last time that night. Your bodies were entwined for the rest of the night until the tepid sunrays peaked meekly through the curtains of Spencer’s bedroom window. The two of you sharing giggles between the sheets with his arms embracing you the way they had been all night. Needless to say, blackjack continues to be your favorite poker game. Especially now more than ever. 
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Text
Secretly Mine
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Summary: Spencer and Reader have been seeing each other for a while without the team's knowledge
Category: Fluff
Couple: Spencer/BAU Fem!Reader
Content warnings: None
Word count: 1.5k
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Eight months have passed since your arrival at the BAU. You’re an integral part of the team. Hotch has been sure to let you know. You’ve stood out with your eye for detail at certain crime scenes, outshining even some of the team’s more seasoned members. Luckily, the academy’s rumors about the Quantico team’s bond have rang true time and time again, so competition and jealousy never became an issue. It only made them respect you and even open up to you.
One person who has particularly opened up to you is the genius of the group, Spencer Reid. The secret you learned: he’s a gentle kisser. Almost childishly chaste, but nothing seemed more fitting for his personality. What was surprising was the setting of your first kiss.
New York City police invited the team to investigate the terrorist cell killing random people across the city. Their attacks grew more volatile by the time you all arrived, placing bombs on government vehicles. One of these bombs hurt Hotch, and SSA Joyner did not survive the same blast. The results could have been worse, considering.
Your team faced the problem of uncertainty regarding who (if anyone) had been injured at that moment. Spencer was with Rossi at the police station while the rest of you were on the ground. That damn terrorist organization interfered with signals and transmissions all the time, and this was no different. You, by your luck, were the most difficult to get in contact with, despite being safe at Federal Plaza. You met with the team when it was safe to do so and all targeted areas were cleared. Most of you sighed in relief. Garcia even held your face, as if to make sure you were real, alive and, breathing.
Spencer held your face too, but not in the same way. You both took refuge by the water cooler, surprisingly where no one was present in a once-crowded New York City police station. You talked about what happened, Hotch’s current condition, and how long to expect these nerves to last. Your nerves didn’t settle, though, when Spencer’s knuckles brushed your cheek as he said, “I’m glad you’re okay.”
You didn’t blame these nerves, though, when you leaned into the touch, looking up at him with a smile. “I’m glad you’re okay, too.”
Spencer was cute, obviously, but workplace relationships are highly unprofessional and even a liability, if the case they just survived wasn’t enough proof of that. You’d think (well, you knew actually) Spencer of all people would know this. He knows everything. When you had a case in Baltimore involving the Ravens, he told you their name came from Edgar Allan Poe’s most famous poem. Then he explained the detailed theories surrounding his untimely death. Spencer believes it has something to do with cooping, whatever that means, you dared not to ask. There’s nothing he doesn’t consider.
So, Spencer must have considered all the odds of professional behavior in that moment by the water cooler since his lips delicately brushed yours. It was barely a kiss at first, until he leaned in for another, to where you could feel the warmth of his mouth and felt that he could do with some lip exfoliant. The last part you didn’t care about because it was practically over before it began. Neither of you said anything about it. Instead, you stayed there for a while, not touching or talking. Then Morgan told the team to pack up and get ready to go home.
Throughout the past month, you and Spencer have shared many kissing sessions. Not at work, though, because you both still have some sense. Kissing Spencer, though, tends to not leave you with much sense. His gentleness is not a front. His touches are tender and he’s never pushed you beyond your limits. It’s a good thing then that he’s a gentleman, so he earned kisses through dinners, movies, and day trips. It was something to look forward to in between grueling cases.
And it wasn’t even off work when Spencer would bring joy to you. There was a case recently in North Carolina that shook you more than you cared to admit. You didn’t want to mention what specifically, as it’s something you haven’t spoken about in a long time, but the team picked up on it quickly. They checked on you and even asked if you needed to sit out. You powered through and came to a satisfactory (for lack of a better word) conclusion. Afterward, Spencer invited you to ice cream. It was a welcoming change of scenery, despite the ice cream place being called Jack the Dipper. It was hilariously fitting, so it really wasn’t an issue. Spencer didn’t ask about what happened or what made you feel so disturbed. Throughout the night, he just made sure to ask if you were okay.
You haven’t been okay for a while. Not because of that case, but because it’s been three months now and you are still running around with Spencer without the team’s knowledge. The team might feel cheated (and Hotch might be pissed) because they are not aware of this information, but the uneasiness of all this was starting to settle in. The fear, the worry that this might just be all for nothing. Outside of the office, he shows that he cares. He knows things about you that you haven't revealed in some time. And apparently he has done the same. Bruises from harsh kisses around your bodies linger under work clothes from a weekend in, and the team has been none the wiser. And you’re not sure if you’re as okay with it as you thought you were.
The team went out to the bar on a Thursday, celebrating a government holiday the night before (i.e. a three-day weekend). The team took shots, bet money, threw darts, and Emily ended up with the most by closing. You would’ve coughed up more cash throughout the night if you were confident in your bets.
Spencer barely looked at you. Didn’t brush your hand or even stand near you for too long, like you had the plague or whatever Poe died from. It didn’t help the feeling in your core, and neither did the walk home. Morgan drove Garcia home, Hotch with Rossi, and J.J. with Emily. And of course, Spencer with you. When J.J. drove away after boasting about avoiding a ticket on an expired meter, Spencer didn’t hesitate to reach for your hand. It was nice, and as the weather grew colder, it was a welcomed warmth. But how could it not feel at least a little sour?
His apartment wasn’t far from here, so you walked. Your hands were laced the entire time, but he didn’t breathe a word and you couldn’t tell if that should make you feel better or worse.
It wasn’t until you climbed the steps to his door that he asked, “Are you staying the night?”
You swallowed. Unlike Emily, Garcia, and Rossi, you were on the side of tipsy rather than in dire need of a toilet to bury your head into. “Sure.” You said. “If you want me to.”
“Yeah,” He said, fiddling with his key and lock. “Of course I want you to.”
He finally opens the door and turns on the living room light. You barely had time to put your purse down before his lips were on yours. They were still chapped like the first time, except you could forgive that because of the growing cold outside. His hands hold your waist, they creep to your back. You couldn’t help but lean in, away from the door he pressed you into. It was when Spencer moaned in your mouth that you broke away. Catching your breath, you try putting together a sentence. But breathing is difficult right now for both of you. Spencer’s eyes are lazy and his breath still lingers with a scent of the mint gum he spit out when he showed up to the bar.
“I’m sorry,” he says, and you think it’s the start to an actual apology. “I was trying to stay patient.” He kisses you again, softly. And you kiss him back still. He moans again. “I want you.”
You swallow again. Your throat is so dry. “Spencer, I—”
“I want to tell them.” He interrupts.
You blink, it quickens as you take in the words. “What?”
His hands cup your face. He brushes the messy bangs from your forehead. “I want to tell them. About this. About us. I just…” He trails off. That is not something you’re used to seeing. “I want more time with you.”
As Spencer’s words sank in, you felt a mix of apprehension and longing, wondering just what could go wrong. A lot, in fact. But you have to believe he’s being honest. Why wouldn’t he be?
And with a soft smile, you reached for his hand and met his gaze. “I want that too,” you said, feeling the weight of it finally being lifted off your chest. “I’ve wanted that for a while.”
“I know. And I’m sorry I haven’t talked to you about it earlier. I was being selfish.”
“I wouldn’t say that.”
“But I would. Because it’s true. But that changes now.” The look on his face, the fully sober look on his face. He’s all in. “I will tell them you’re my girlfriend.”
2K notes · View notes
letoasai · 3 months
Text
Will work for food ~ part 2
Part 1 - Master list
Tim was anxious which wasn’t an emotion he often put into use. Even on a bad day he was calculating, overly prepared, and usually ran on caffeine. He was a young genius and a hell of a detective, but nerves probably didn’t care about his resume or personality quirks. 
He rubbed his thumb against the folded piece of paper kept hidden in his pocket. He’d examined it in the batcave but it held no clues of note. It was just a normal sheet of paper, and the ink could have been a pen from any local corner store. No DNA. No fingerprints. All the same, he kept it out of sight in public. 
Tim had been antsy about summoning Phantom, mostly because he felt like he was disrespectfully late. When he’d first laid eyes on the living form of the Ghost King, he’d felt a familiar ache. Neglect. He didn’t know if the king had neglected himself, or if the blame lay at someone else's feet, but he just couldn’t stand it. 
He’d offered food and company in an instant, the words popping out of his mouth before he could think them through. Despite that, he didn’t regret the offer. He could have done without the teasing from his siblings and teammates, but he didn’t regret the offer once. 
His only remorse was with the clean up efforts. The Infinite creature, Vortex, had left quite the destruction in his wake. Even with many extended members of the League assisting with clean up, it took ages. Search and rescues were active and humanitarian groups had arrived to offer aid but some things couldn’t be done in a weekend. 
The bats returning to Gotham didn’t offer much in the way of a break either. A Scarecrow outbreak with his fear toxin. Three different gangs in the middle of a turf war. A weapons smuggling ring being uncovered… It was one thing after another for a minute. 
When all was said and done it had been nearly two months before Tim had the opportunity to keep his promise. He was in his civvies, standing at the mouth of an alleyway across from a little italian place that looked cheap but was actually the best tasting, most authentic italian place in all of Gotham. Little hole in the wall places often were the best. 
The problem now was his ability to overthink things. Would he summon the king in a glow of green that would light up the street like a beacon? Would he arrive in his ghostly form, crown hovering above his hooded head? 
Phantom looked human enough but was he? Did he come from Earth originally? There were plenty of aliens that looked human. It would be rude to assume… 
What name did he use? Did he need to go full title? Why didn’t he ask more questions when he had the chance?
“King Phantom.” Tim muttered, deciding to just go for it. He still clutched the paper sigil out of sight. “Uh, Ghost King Phantom. King of the Infinite Realm. Um… Or was it High King…” 
“Just Phantom is fine.” 
Tim tensed, all of his hair standing on end at the voice directly behind him in the alley. He hadn’t made a sound but he needed to actively work to exhale and turn around to face his guest. There had been zero indication of his arrival, and he was thankfully, in his living form. 
He was in jeans and an over sized hoodie. Tim could just barely make out a faded NASA written in the front. That was a point in the direction of him possibly being a human from Earth. He wore shoes this time, beat up looking kicks that had seen better days. His hood was also drawn over his head, likely to hide his bony appearance. Tim did spy the tail of his braid over his shoulder though, his hair black to further prove he was in his living form. 
“You…scared the hell out of me.” Tim said, smiling after another hard exhale. “I am sorry it took so long, your Highness.” 
“Phantom.” He corrected, looking around the street and taking it all in. Tim could clock him making note of the turns down the street and the buildings with fire escapes even with his hood up. People just had certain body language when casing an area. “I figured it would be a while, if you summoned me at all. I was not going to hold you to a whim, Red Robin.” 
“I said i would…” Tim muttered. “Uh, it’s Tim, out of uniform. If you don’t mind.” 
“Tim.” He repeated. That softness to his voice remained, and honestly, Tim liked the cadence of it. He liked it as much as he was sure he never wanted to hear Phantom raise his voice. “I understand.” He hesitated only a beat. “You can call me Danny. Phantom is probably a silly thing to call someone in a city like this.” 
“Not if it’s your name.” 
“Danny is okay.” He said, and for whatever reason, Tim noticed now how he kept his hands in his pockets, likely to hide them too. Frail, skeletal looking hands would just frighten some people. “Food? For a favor?” 
“No favor involved. I invited you out.” Tim said. “I mean, maybe we can chat about stuff but you aren’t obligated to answer or anything.” 
Phantom…Danny nodded, shuffling for a moment and looking around again. The height of the buildings seemed to be a mild interest of his. “Where are we eating?” 
“Well, if you like Italian, we’re walking across the street.” He thought pasta and breads would be both filling and flavorful. It would also be something easily packed up for Danny to take with him. 
“I’ll eat anything.” Danny informed him. “I have no preferences after all this time.” He hesitated. “Or maybe i need to rediscover them, but anything will be fine.” 
“Let’s… let’s go then.” Tim said, walking with Danny at his side. He’d made a reservation which wasn’t strictly necessary at such a small place but it gave him the option of reserving a corner table to offer them a little more privacy. 
They walked in, the hostess greeting them with a smile before leading them to their table and leaving them with bread, water, and menus. There were a few other full tables but it wasn’t packed the way it would be in the evening. 
Danny kept his hood up, but it was Gotham and no one questioned the decision. They just left him in peace to not start a conflict with someone who wasn’t causing any trouble. He also kept his hands out of sight until the hostess had left. He sipped the water once and broke off only a little piece of the bread. He buttered it and ate on it while flipping open the menu. 
Tim didn’t know if he was reading the English or Italian parts of the menu but it didn’t matter. Being fluent in reading an Earth language was another check mark for this being his place of origin. 
“Can i…” Tim hummed, keeping in mind that he was speaking with royalty and act a little less like Bruce interrogating a suspect. “Can i ask a couple questions?” 
Danny looked up at him, Tim only barely able to make out some of his features passed the unnatural shadows his hood provided. “Sure.” 
Tim smiled, not even bothering with the menu since he knew what he was getting. “You’re the King of a realm, but was Earth your place of origin?” 
“Yes, but not this Earth.” 
Dimensions! Tim filed that away for later. “You can travel to any of them?” 
“Within reason. Yes. I’m old, but not that old yet. Only eight or nine decades.” He tore another small piece of bread to eat. Tim assumed he was pacing himself. “They call me a baby Ancient still.” 
“That’s cool…” Tim muttered. “Are there many other Earths?” 
“The answer to that would never satisfy you.” Danny said softly. “Trust me. I am the Ancient of Space and i’m hardly satisfied with it.” 
There was a new fact for Tim to latch on. “What’s the-” He stopped when the waitress appeared. Both of them ordered, and Tim was certain he’d end up ordering more halfway through the meal so Danny could take more home with him.  
When the menus were taken and the waitress left again, Tim continued. “What’s the difference between being an Ancient of Space and being the Ghost King.” 
“When i died, or half died, it was my fate to one day become the Ancient of Space. I am that regardless. I won the title of Ghost King.” 
Tim dragged a hand down his face. “That’s…. Endlessly fascinating. I have so many questions.” He didn’t even know how to touch ‘half died’ yet. 
Danny hummed once and fiddled with the end of his braid. “Do i get to ask questions too?” 
“Of course.” 
Danny leaned forward, sipping at his water again. “This Earth has super heroes. That’s interesting. Mine didn’t. How long have you been a hero?” 
Tim nodded, figuring that would be the direction the questions would have wandered towards. They were far enough away from everyone in the restaurant that he didn’t worry about being heard. The music playing in the background also helped a great deal. 
“Hero might be a debate depending on who you ask. In Gotham we’re considered vigilanties. I first suited up at thirteen but it was really more like fourteen after a great deal of training.” 
Danny was quiet for a moment. “And how old are you now? I have trouble telling ages these days…” 
“Eighteen.” Tim said. 
“Young.” Danny muttered. “I was young too. Fourteen when i became the bridge. Sixteen before i really understood what it meant.” 
“The bridge?” 
“Balance. The living and the dead.” 
Tim huffed softly. “You wear a lot of hats, don’t you?”  
Danny made a quiet noise, and it took Tim a beat longer than normal to realize he was laughing. “I do, i wish i didn’t most of the time. It’s fine though.” 
“Just fine?” Tim asked after a beat. He knew a little about expectations and high standards that could weigh you down–both his own standards and other peoples. 
Danny nodded, one of his hands resting on the other. “I’ve seen things. Good things. Bad things. Things that will never happen. Things that have. It’s better i have certain powers because i have no desire to use them.” 
Aah. Tim understood that. “People who want too much power are dangerous.” 
“Exactly.” 
“The power of ruling an entire realm…” 
“Exactly.” 
Tim heaved a sigh. “Damn.” Maybe he should ask something less intense. “Did you enjoy the food we gave you last time? It was just some fast food but there was some worry it wasn’t good enough.” 
“It was great.” Danny said and he sounded sincere. “Nostalgic. It took me a few days to eat all of it. I know the Infinite Realm’s reputation, and it is a warranted reputation, but i’m… hard to offend. Little things are just little things.” 
“I’ll put them at ease then.” 
Danny was quiet for a moment, the silence not an oppressive one. “What is the difference between a hero and a vigilante?” 
“How people perceive us, i guess. Superman will always be seen as a hero. Wholesome and valiant and all that. Things in Gotham are altogether… shadier. Being a vigilante isn’t exactly legal and while we have our boundaries, we break the law all the time.” Tim said. They covered their own tracks well but it was fortunate that no one looked too closely at their activities. 
It didn’t bother Tim when he knew his reasons were still good. 
Danny made a thoughtful kind of noise. “I’m willing to bet Superman’s business isn’t purely legal either. This seems like a nice Earth though, despite whatever troubles you have.” 
“Some hero work is sanctioned by the government so it’s a fine line. Any of it could be argued.” Tim explained, and that was something Danny seemed to find fascinating. 
They paused their conversation again when the waitress appeared with their food, and Tim put in a second order for them to take when they left. The eyes Tim could feel on him told him that Danny already knew what they were for. 
He could hear Danny softly inhale and exhale as he looked at the plate in front of him that came accompanied with salad. He likely wouldn’t be able to eat even a fraction of it but the way he looked at it…. made Tim realize that he could see Danny’s face more clearly. The shadows that obscured his face from his hood had receded. He was still gaunt, but he eyed the food with so much joy. 
The first bite of –non fast food– food nearly seemed to overwhelm him in a good way. 
“You know,” Tim swung hard to change subjects. “We can do a bit of a food tour every time i summon you for lunch. Pizza. Chinese. Barbeque. There’s a great taco truck. We could get something homemade.” 
“You cook?” 
“Haa. No.” Tim said seriously. “But Al… my grandpa is an amazing cook and he seemed to think trading food for world saving services was very sensible but he was appalled that we offered you cheap fries and burgers. He’d honestly love to cook for you.” 
Danny smiled, this shy little look that shouldn’t have fit someone with the title of Ghost King but it sure fit Danny. “That could be nice. Decent home cooked meals are kind of mythological to me.” 
Tim nodded once, and knew better than to ask directly. “I didn’t have a very cuddly upbringing either. There was a lot of take-out involved.” 
“Your food ever come back to life and try to eat you instead?” Danny asked and Tim just stared. 
“I can’t…tell if that’s a real question or if you’re messing with me.” 
Danny smiled and was that a hint of fangs? “Dead serious.” 
Time groaned. “No, no you are a king. You are not making puns.” 
“Thinking i’m too mature for puns is a grave mistake.” Danny said without hesitation. 
“Noo.” Tim groaned, lips upturned into a smile. His brothers could never know about this. Dick would start a pun off and Jason’s morbid sense of humor about his own death…. Ugh, it would be bad. 
It did bring up the interesting question of Danny’s age. He said he’d been alive for decades but how did he mature. Was he still a teenager? Did he age slowly? Asking not only sounded like a bad idea, but Raven and Zatanna had both made sure he knew it was a question to not ask. 
They chatted, they ate, or well, Tim ate. Danny ate a bite every few minutes and looked thrilled about it but he was slowing down. Tim was looking forward to Danny being able to eat more with every visit. 
He flagged down the waitress, gesturing for a box and got a thumbs up in return. 
“You can take it with you.” Tim said when Danny was giving him a look. “It might be a couple days before i can call you again and this way you’ll have enough to eat every day.” 
“I can’t deny that.” Danny said. “You don’t have to keep summoning me.”
“I promised you lunches.” Tim said firmly. “And you said it yourself, you should eat more and spend more time in a living realm. You may as well take advantage of being summoned for food.” 
“Hm…” Danny played with the end of his braid again. “You do make a compelling argument. It’s nice to talk to someone without it being preceded by a brawl.” 
Tim stared, “What?” 
Danny just looked amused. “I’ll explain to you etiquette in the Infinite Realm sometime.” 
“Yeah?” 
The waitress returned with boxes for Danny to pack up his meal and the empty dishes were whisked away to make more room on the table while they waited for their to-go orders. 
They were almost startled when a second waitress reappeared with a few little dishes before they could begin speaking again. Everything was set in the middle of the table, presumably for them to share. There was a piece of white peach tart, a bowl of strawberry gelato, and a slice of frozen chocolate chip meringata. 
“Um…” Tim blinked. “We didn’t-”
The waitress chuckled. “It was ordered for you by another patron. Please enjoy.” She set down another set of utensils for them and walked away. 
Danny made a small sound in his throat. “Well i was full but how could i say no to a couple more bites…” 
“Wait.” Tim said, gaze subtly shifting around the room. Maybe he was trained to be paranoid, but it usually served him well. What he found almost instantly had his eye twitching. 
Not even halfway across the room sat a poorly disgusted Dick wearing large sunglasses, a fedora, and the world's least convincing mustache. When he saw Tim looking and grinned and raised his own wine glass. 
“I gotta kill my brother…” 
Danny sputtered out a laugh, so genuinely amused that Tim could definitely see his fangs as he laughed.
“That would make him my problem.” Danny pointed out, reaching for a spoon to try the gelato first. 
“I’m not seeing your point.” Tim said, delighted by Danny’s teasing. It was a rookie mistake to think one of his siblings wouldn’t find out about this. An absolute blunder that he hadn’t noticed Dick walking in after them at all. He’d never live it down. 
“Guess i’ll have to be more careful next time.” He added. 
Danny hummed again and seemed to have a fondness for the cold dessert. “I could always invite you to my realm sometime.” 
“Cool.” Tim said instantly. Ha, let them try to follow him then…
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chososdiscordkitten · 4 months
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Sub!Choso♡
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MDNI
pairing: Choso x gn!Reader Content: no use of y/n or pronouns, beginning is some reassurance to Choso, no intercourse, sub!Choso, softdom!reader, light teasing, guided masturbation, overstimulation, praising, use of sweet boy, good boy, and hon, reach around hand job in the mirror, multiple orgasms; all just Choso..... Word count: 3.7k (a.n) ...... is this a safe place to post this? I started writing this thinking it was gonna be short- I was wrong. I got a lil carried away. Wrote this while listening to 'Take Me to Church- Hozier'
⋆ ˚。 ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。 ⋆
Dating Choso came easy. He was nice, he was strong, caring. You always saw the tough side of him. He never had anything to complain about when it came to your relationship.
Always ready to hear your opinions and thoughts. And when you'd ask him what he think when it came to certain things he'd always reply with, “If it makes you happy, I'm happy.” never wanting to say something that might hurt you.
Always so eager to shut down your harsh words towards yourself whenever a certain shirt didn't fit the way you wanted to. And you’d compliment him, saying things like how handsome he was, how good he looked, or when he'd help you carry the cases of water, never hesitating to kiss his bicep and tell him how strong he was.
And everytime he would return a shy, “Thank you.” turning away from you, knowing how red his cheeks got anytime you'd praise him. So when he asked you;
“Do you like me?” One tired night after coming home from work, it took you by surprise. 
“What do you mean?” You asked, looking at him through the mirror in the corner of your shared bedroom.
“Do you like me? Like that?” he asked, hands between his knees. His eyes on your face in the shape of saucers, sitting on the corner of the bed.
“Of course I do.” you replied, not fully understanding why he was asking that. “Have I not shown you that I do?” You asked, concerned that maybe you had failed him in that aspect.
Turning around to look at him, seeing him look down. “No- I just.” he puffed, trying to find the words to tell you how he feels. “I don't see why you'd want to be with me.” He let out, almost a whisper.
“Choso.” You sighed, seeing him tilt his head slightly up. Taking a step closer to him, reaching for the sides of his face.
“If im with you- it's because you are you.” You smiled, your thumbs caressing his cheeks.
He looked up to your gaze, “But-” he started, “No buts. What are you doubting?” You asked, soft tone in your voice as he closed his eyes.
“I just don't see why you'd want to be with me- I can't talk about my feelings- I cry too much.” He started, seeing tears form in his waterline. His hands hugged around your waist as he tried not to cry.
“I see the way people look at you- and it makes me feel like maybe I'm not enough.” He whispered, hot tears staining the shirt you were wearing as he pressed the side of his face to your sternum. Your hands caressing the sides of his face as he lets out quite whimpers into your shirt. 
Pulling him from you, looking down at his flustered face and wet cheeks. “You're more than enough Choso.” You wiped tears from his cheek, “I know feelings are so hard to talk about, and your crying just shows me just how sensitive you are.” You assured, seeing him not find any reassurance in your words.
“But-” He started again. Nodding your head no as he stopped speaking.
“What do I have to do to get you to see what I see?” You asked, smiling as you leaned down to kiss his forehead. His hand holding your wrist, pulling away and placing a gentle kiss to his lips. Half lidded eyes locked on his as he parted his lips, almost as though he was trying to think on what would assure him.
Pressing another kiss to his lips before letting out a ‘Hmm?’ seeing him gulp his embarrassment. “What do you like…about me?” he asked, his ears now warm against your fingers.
Choso was never the type to fish for compliments, he never asked you to praise him whenever he did something for you.
But he wanted to hear it, he just never had the guts to ask. 
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The corner of your mouth curling into a smile at his brazen question, “I love your eyebrows.” You smiled, placing a gentle kiss to one of his eyebrows, “I love your eyes-” his eyes fluttering shut, pressing a kiss to one of them.
“And your nose.” You hummed, pressing a delicate kiss to the center of the black stripe that adorned his face. “Your cheeks-” He closed his eyes as he felt you pepper his face with gentle kisses.
The pink on his cheeks turned redder as he felt you kiss the shell of his ear, “And your earrings.” you smiled, his hands on your hips.
Feeling you straddle his thighs, lowering your lips to his jaw. “And your jawline.” you smiled, feeling him shift under you.
Trailing kisses on the edge of his jaw. Placing a kiss to his chin, “And your lips.” You whispered, pressing a soft kiss to his plush lips.
Your hands on the sides of his face, looking deep into his eyes. “I love every part of you.” You smiled, feeling his hands roam up your back. Pulling you close to hug him, your chin on his shoulder as he held you tightly.
“I love when you make me laugh-” you whispered, “How caring you are-” his grip on your back pressing firmer.
“When you do things for me without me asking you to.” You continued, you hand rubbing circles on his back.
The other trailing to his bicep, “And how strong you are.” You smiled, feeling goosebumps form as you trailed the tips of your fingers on his thick bicep. Tracing your hand down his arm, moving it so you could intertwine your fingers with his.
Pulling away from his hug and looking into his eyes. “And your big hands.” You hummed, feeling his thick fingers against your smaller ones. The tears in his eyes now gone as his bottom lip trembled.
Closing the few centimeters that separated your lips, Choso hesitatingly deepening the kiss. Feeling his lips suck on your bottom one. The hand on your back is going to hold the side of your face. Pulling away from you with nothing but hearts in his eyes.
“I love you so much Choso.” You whispered, seeing him hold back a smile- almost too shy to smile. 
Eyebrows furrowing together when you felt something poke your thigh. His face of embarrassment showed you what he felt, not even looking down to see what poked you.
“I’m sorry-” He started, apologizing before you even said anything. “I just- felt so happy hearing your words-” he babbled, wanting so badly to tease him. But you knew now wasn't the time for that.
Taking one of your hands and brushing the hair from his face. “Don't be sorry-” you hummed, looking into his face that was full of shame. Smiling as he tried to avoid your gaze.
“No- I am. You're just trying to be nice and I ruined it-” he mumbled, looking down. Trying to look away from the embarrassment. Seeing an opportunity to show him just how much you liked him. Mumbling a quiet;
“It’s okay.” before pressing a gentle kiss to his lips and taking your hand and trailing it to his clothed chest. Then down his torso as his breath hitched.
Your hand resting to the side of his hip, knowing he didn't wear any underwear whenever he'd be in his pajamas. Your hand cuffing around his clothed cock, earning a soft gasp from his lips.
Dragging your hand to where you knew his tip was, your fingertips grazing it delicately as he closed his eyes. Trying his best not to whine at the feeling. Smiling when you saw him try his hardest not to get too loud from such simple touches.
His cheeks flushed and such whiny sounds falling from his lips made something deep inside of you itch. Taking the hand that was on his cheek, placing the tips of your fingers to his lips.
Choso’s eyes opened to look at you, such deep devotion in his gaze when he looked at you. Kissing at the tips of your fingers before widening his mouth to welcome them. 
The hand on his clothed cock felt a small wet spot at the tip. Making you smile as he sucked at your fingers, hoping they'd be enough to quiet his moans. They weren't, his groans vibrated against your fingers causing a chill to run down your spine.
The mere sight of him making your own arousal pool in your stomach. Feeling his hips buck beneath you, you smiled. A certain image you've had in mind popping into your head when you saw the face he made before he was going to cum.
Stopping your movements as he looked into your eyes, almost asking you why you’d deny him this. Pulling your now wet fingers from his lips, seeing his face of confusion.
You raised yourself from his thighs, his face full of betrayal as you looked behind you. Pulling the small ottoman in the bedroom in front of him. Sitting down and looking at him, eye to eye but much further away than he wanted.
Smile on your lips as you saw his face churn with shyness. Feeling your gaze on the obvious wet spot on his gray sweats. Thinking he had never felt this hard in his life. “If I wasn't here; show me how you’d take care of it.” You hummed, seeing him look at you. Eyebrows furrowed showing you how unsure he was.
“Take care of…it?” he whispered, his hands going to cover the obvious wet bulge in his sweats. Your eyes looked down to his hands, you mumbled a small ‘Mhm’ as his lips cracked open to say something but not finding the words.
His eyes widening at the realization of what you were asking of him. Goosebumps forming on his back. Seeing you rest your elbow on your knee, propping your head in your hand while you waited. He stood up, taking his shirt off quickly- not wanting it to get ruined. His chest almost heaving from how flustered he felt.
Tossing it to the side and sliding his sweats down to his knees, his eyes avoiding your gaze as his throbbing cock flung out of his soiled sweats. Seeing a smile form on your lips when he sat back down on the edge of the bed. His eyebrows pinched together when he saw how lovingly you watched him.
“So pretty Cho.” You hummed, making his heart clench. Looking down to his leaking cock, and back to you. “Go on.” You smiled, the look on your face as though what you were asking of him was some innocent act.
Gulping as he took his hand, grasping the middle of his pale shaft. Inhaling sharply as he slid it up to his tip slowly. Choso had done this many times, never feeling shame or embarrassment for doing what seemed to be something normal.
But not once did he ever do it infront of you, the feeling of being so exposed while you watched him. Fully dressed and praising him. You've said it to him before, but you always liked the way his face churned when you'd tell him, “So big.” you'd purr, his eyes squinting shut at hearing your words.
His hand took a snail pace, stroking up and down slowly as he looked to his cock and back to you to see if you saw what you were hoping for. His sweats falling from his knees down to his ankles as he let out soft whines. His thumb caught the very tip of his cock as he looked to your approving gaze.
“Does it feel good?” you hummed, hearing him let out a choked moan, he let out a soft ‘Mhm’ as he stroked himself. “Use your words.” You demanded, his face showing you how reactive he was to your tone.
“It-” He whined, trying to get the words out. “It does-” he managed, eyes flickering back to you.
“Always so cute when you're like this Cho.” You smiled, seeing his hand speed up the tiniest bit at your words, seeing his free hand hold onto the edge of the bed while trying not to cum too soon.
“Are you gonna cum?” Your tone came out more teasingly than you meant for it to, seeing him nod his head no, going back to the slow pace he kept before.
“It's okay. You can cum.” you hummed, seeing him look to you with pained eyes as his hand sped up. All but asking for your permission. Gasping at the feeling of his fist brushing against his crying tip.
Chin in your hand watching his fist come down his shaft, making him throw his head back and let out a groan. Stroking his cock through his orgasm, only making himself more messy. Whining as he came down from his orgasm, looking back to you to see if you found what you were looking for. 
“Again.” You smiled, loving look on your face when you looked at his fucked out one. Wincing when he heard your words, almost like you didn't have any issues about demanding another one.
His hard cock twitched as his hand connected again, stroking slowly at his shaft, making sure to not touch his tip too much. Knowing how sensitive it still was, soft whines left his lips once more as he saw you furrow your eyebrows at his movements.
“If you're not gonna do it right, don't do it at all. Choso.” tone now deprived of all sweetness. Now sounding more upset.
“M’sorry-” he whined, stroking past his tip. Bucking his hips into his hand, choked whines falling from him. Soft sighs from him when he saw your eyebrows unfurrow.
Looking at him again with a smile. “There you go,” You cooed, “Good boy.” you continued, earning small whines from him at your words. Looking at you with a shamed face before asking;
“Can I-” Seeing you lift your head from your hands and rest your palms above your thighs.
“Can you what?” you teased, seeing his hand move sloppily as he heard your tone. He moaned, babbles of ‘pleasepleaseplease’ as his hand tried to keep the pace he set for himself.
“Please what Choso?” you hummed, seeing him almost cum without permission.
“Can I cum- please.” He managed through various whines, blushing so intensely that it roamed down his neck, onto his chest.
“Go ahead, hon.” You smiled, seeing his face churn as he chased the fleeting orgasm at his own hand. Unable to keep his fist tight enough to make him cum from how fucked out he already was. Barely managing to come once his eyes met your gaze.
Standing up from the ottoman as he came down from his second orgasm. Pressing a delicate kiss onto his forehead as he stroked himself slowly.
“You're so pretty like this Cho.” You cooed, holding his head in your hands as he looked up at you through his eyelashes. Seeing his eyebrows pinch together at your praises. Placing a kiss to his lips, eyes half lidded before pulling away.
“You did so good.” Pushing away the strands of hair that stuck to his forehead. Opening his mouth to speak- hesitating as he looked into your eyes.
“Touch me. Please.” He whined, feeling your hands on the sides of his face and his cock hardening once more. Pulling away from him before slipping off your shirt- knowing just how messy he gets. Kneeling before him, hands on his bare thighs as he squirmed at the feeling.
“I always liked how sensitive you were, Cho.” You started, taking the tip of your finger and tracing it on his darkening head. Seeing his thighs tremble against the feeling.
“How pretty you look when you ask me to help you.” You continued, slowly trailing the tip of your index finger down his shaft, hearing how he became breathless at the simple feeling. Taking your finger and gathering the mess he made at the base of his shaft, looking up to his eyes and licking it from your finger.
Smile on your face from the flavor hitting your tongue, seeing him try his hardest not to whine at your words. “And how sweet you've always been.” You smiled, leaning against his thigh. Seeing his mouth want to say something, lip quivering at trying to get the words out.
“Pl-” he started, a gasp leaving his lips when he felt the tip of your finger circle around the opening of his tip. Hearing you let out a teasing, ‘Hmm?’ As his hands gripped the edges of the bed. “Please-” He whined, seeing only the tip of your finger dance around his angry head.
“Please what?” You asked, seeing his tip let out a fat tear.
“Touch me-” He started, soft gasps leaving his lips at how sensitive his tip was.
“I am touching you, aren't i?” You smiled, hearing his groans become more and more frustrated. Looking up to see his face, a twinge of regret in your heart when you saw teary eyes looking back to you. 
“Okay, okay.” You smiled, raising yourself slightly so you'd be closer to his face, pressing a kiss to the corner of his opened mouth.
Looking into his eyes when you wrapped your hand around his base, gasping at the sudden feeling. Pressing a kiss onto his lips as he exhaled in relief, resting on the back of your calves as you slowly started stroking him.
Rolling the palm of your hand onto his tip as he squirmed beneath you, looking up to see his head thrown back, choked whines leaving his throat as you continued. Your free hand going to his balls, caressing them gently as he moaned more pleads.
Sadistic grin on your lips as you looked at the messy sight before you. “You gonna cum for me, Choso?” You smiled, seeing him flip his face back down to you.
Muttering a gasping ‘yes’ as your hand sped up. Seeing his cock leak out small pumps of milky white cum onto your hands. “You wanna make me happy?” you smiled sweetly, knowing that all you needed to do was ask him that one question and he'd be putty in your hands.
Nodding his head yes, not being able to speak from the whines leaving his mouth. You pulled away, making him let out a groan.
“You look so pretty- you have to see yourself.” You smiled, crawling onto the bed, hearing how hard he was breathing. Bare chest against his back as he whined. Feeling your hands snake beneath his arms, touching his ribs and grazing his chest.
“Look-” you whispered into his ear, being able to feel the shiver that ran down his spine. Seeing him lift his head to look into the mirror in front of him.
“Look how beautiful you look like this.” You whispered, lips brushing against his ear as your hand trailed down his torso. Fingers slowly tracing the ridges of his abs, hearing him exhale at your words. “You look even prettier when you cum.” you grinned against him, making him let out a soft whine at your dirty whispers.
“I'll show you-” you grinned, almost too eager as your hand trailed from his abdomen down his happy trail. Already feeling him writhe against your touch.
Seeing his gaze fall from his own body to your face peeking behind his shoulder. Feeling you slowly push the tip of his cock through your fist. Making him shift his hips, your other hand going to hold onto his thick bicep. Slowly stroking his cock as he felt another orgasm pool into his stomach.
“I’m gonna cum-” he whined, feeling that the sight of himself in the mirror and your sweet voice in his ear was too much.
“Already? I've barely touched you~” You teased, pressing your thumb onto the bottom of his tip. Sliding it up and down as you waited for him to answer, not stroking him just to see what he'd say.
“I’m sorry-” he whined, making you let out a small laugh.
“My sweet boy. Always so polite.” You smiled against his ear, making him buck his hips up your hand to get some stimulation. Seeing his eyes squeezed shut through the mirror, “Open your eyes.” You demanded, seeing him open them and look into the mirror.
“Look at your arms-” you started, slowly stroking his cock as he tried his hardest to not close his eyes. Feeling your hand caress his bicep, fingers pressing down at the small vein forming. Moving the hand on his bicep to his side, keeping the slow pace as you stroked his cock.
“And your chest-” you hummed, sliding your hands past his hardened nipple, making him gasp at the feeling. “Look how pretty your cock is.” you giggled, seeing his eyes trail down his own reflection- exhaling when he saw your hand stroking him.
The feeling of your other hand rolling the bud of his pink nipple between your fingers made him almost cum on the spot.
Seeing his face churn in the mirror you whispered, “Are you gonna cum again?~” as he muttered various ‘yesyesyes’ feeling your hand polish the tip of his cock.
“Look at yourself Choso-” you smiled, seeing his eyes scan his body with low gasps. Whining when he felt your hand speed up, making him cum once more. Barely being able to keep his eyes open as you brushed your thumb across the tip.
“Look how pretty you look~” you gasped, feeling his cum fall between your fingers that grasped against his cock. Choso’s eyes falling onto his own face as he came down from his orgasm. His breathing slowed as he felt himself give you the last of what he had.
His cock softened in your hand as you felt aftershocks flow through his body. Kissing his shoulder before letting his cock go. 
Almost feeling him fall back onto you, before you laid back into the bed. Feeling him flip over and resting his head onto your sternum. Holding himself close to your skin as you rubbed circles onto his bare back.
Tired eyes looking up at you, “Thank you.” he whispered before leaning up to give you a soft kiss to your lips. Placing one of your hands onto the side of his face, your fingers trailing above his pierced ears, feeling him hum against your chest.
Trailing the hand on his back up to his hair, combing it away from his face as you felt him slowly becoming heavier- showing he was falling asleep. “I love you.” You hummed, earning a small grunt from him as he tried to stay awake. 
-
I wrote this cuz I personally find it to be one of the most attractive things I can think abt- and when looking for some like this abt Choso, I found very few which was UPSETTING!!!! its one of the few things that made me take 5 min breaks like every few sentences because i felt so flustered writing this. again I suck at writing aftercare. im SORRY. I needed to write something nasty- I felt like I was punishing myself or something. I needed to get this out of my head before I wrote pt 7 of obsessive!Choso!!! im getting to work dw
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wongyuuu · 4 months
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back room | csc
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pairing: seungcheol x f!reader genre: smut word count: 2.3k summary: while seungcheol is on a meeting you decide that it's a great moment to send him nudes. warnings: minors do not interact, kissing, stimulation, swearing, petnames, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (don't do this) a/n: this is part of 1k event, it was requested @xcynthiaaa. i hope you like it. prompts: "Feeling a bit possessive, aren't we?" + “Can you stop sending me nudes, I’m at work.” lower case was intentional, not proofread
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you anxiously watched the meeting room, you glanced at your phone every now and then to make sure that seungcheol had gotten your text. he was doing a good job of keeping a straight face, his eyes not even once going to his phone or to you, though you were sure that he knew that the new influx of texts was from you. 
without meaning to, your eyes went from him to the woman sitting right in front of him. since the beginning of the meeting she never stopped looking at seungcheol and if the nasty gossip that floated to your ears was any true, she had been hitting on him a long time before you showed up.
maybe you were feeling a little insecure about yourself, because the woman was stunning, with the kind of face and body one could easily find in a magazine, or maybe you just hated the fact that there was a woman throwing herself at your boyfriend. to his credit, seungcheol never looked at her, unless she directly called his name, and when she touched his leg with her pointy shoes he scooted his chair back.
you bit your lip, wanting to come up with an excuse to go into the meeting room and maybe end it. but you didn't have a good one and although if you did go in, no one would ever bat an eye, it just wasn't right. and, more than anything else, it could backfire and instead of being amused by your sudden jealousy, seungcheol would get angry because you could have potentially ruined an important moment for him. 
so you kept your butt on your chair, doing your very best to keep your focus on the work that needed to be done. it was pointless and you knew that. every couple of seconds your eyes moved to the meeting room. 
"who was the idiot that decided that a meeting room should have glass walls?" you asked no one in particular. 
"pretty sure it was the ceo" wonwoo said from the desk in front of you. 
it was a surprise that he even heard you in the first place. wonwoo was great at ignoring the people around him, you more than anyone else, and he usually had his earbuds in, blasting music loud enough that people near him could hear it too. you liked to pretend that he never answered because his hearing was getting progressively worse because of all the loud music. 
"almost certain your boyfriend agreed, saying it was a great idea," he said, not looking at you. 
you choked on your own saliva, eyes wide as you reached for the water bottle on your right. no one was supposed to know about your relationship with seungcheol, as it was against company rules. both of you thought that you had done a good job in hiding it, a fantastic one actually. 
you never arrived together, never left together, barely talked of things that weren't specific about work, and if there was a company dinner you never sat close to each other, always choosing opposite sides, but careful enough not to be facing each other. 
you were always careful, to the point most people thought you didn't like each other. 
"he's not..."
"you don't have to lie" he waved a hand in your direction, "i'm the only one who knows. and i only know because i saw you together a couple of weeks ago at a restaurant" 
you opened your mouth to say something when your phone suddenly lit up with an incoming text. it was pathetic how quickly you grabbed your phone, to the point wonwoo laughed at you. 
cheol feeling a bit possessive, aren't we?
you bit your lip trying to hide your smile but it was almost impossible. when you looked at the meeting room, seungcheol's eyes were focused on you. 
to the average person, he looked displeased, angry even. but you knew that the glint in his eyes was for a different reason.
you moved your attention back to your phone.
you just wanted to remind you that you have a girlfriend
you went through your gallery again, clicking on the picture you took a few days before and pressing send. seungcheol had to be away for a few days because of work and because you weren't part of his team, there was no reason for you to tag along. you had been feeling hornier than usual, needy even. so you decided that if you were missing your boyfriend to the point where your fingers could do nothing but make you even needier, he too could miss you a little bit. 
so you took pictures of yourself sprawled in his bed, wearing the red lingerie you knew he liked the most, and sent it to him. it took him a couple of hours to see it and it was so long that you started to think that maybe it had been a bad idea and that though he was someone who enjoyed foreplay there were things that he wasn't willing to do. 
to your surprise and delight, he was more into it than you expected. 
after that, if you were feeling pretty enough, you'd take pictures and randomly send them to him. 
cheol you know i love it but, can you stop sending me nudes? i'm at work  we're at work
you okay ;)
you send him a different picture, this time one he had taken the night before, of your reflection in the mirror while you rode him. 
you smiled at your phone before setting it down, happy with yourself. seungcheol looked almost pained as he turned his attention back to the meeting, nodding his head every now and then, but his eyes continued to move back to his phone. 
he couldn't really believe what you had done, though you weren't the shiest woman he had ever met, for you there had always been certain boundaries you refused to cross. he couldn't help but wonder if you had gotten jealous enough to do that, send him pictures while he was in a room filled with people. had the client had gone a little further you would have barged into the room ready for a fight? 
his hard on was a little uncomfortable, and yes he crossed his legs in order to hide it, but it was extremely hard to keep the smile away from his face.
"i'm sure we can make the adjustments for next week, can't we seungcheol?" his boss suddenly said.
seungcheol cleared his throat and adjusted himself on the chair. 
"yes, i can finish it by friday next week
"great!" the woman said in her high pitched tone. 
seungcheol took a discreet deep breath to keep himself from rolling his eyes. 
he didn't know how you even thought that he could be interested in her, or if anything at all even went through your brain. the client was objectively pretty but everything else about her didn't do much for him. and she crossed one too many lines during the meeting. seungcheol made it a point to keep quiet for the day but there was no way he would stand another meeting with the woman. he would still work on the project but the ceo could handle her by himself, something told him he would be happy to.
"i was thinking that maybe we could all go for lunch," she started.
seungcheol stood up, shaking his head. he pulled the folder from the desk and held it in front of himself. the sight was ridiculous and he could picture you laughing in his head.
"i have a lot of work to catch up on, i'll have to pass on it"
the polite thing to do would be to shake her hand but seungcheol wanted to get away as fast as possible so once the ceo nodded at him, he turned on his heels and left the meeting room. 
he went straight to your desk. you smiled while looking down and at the mere sight of you, his cock twitched like he was a fucking teenager that had never seen a woman before. 
"yn, i need you at the archive room. now"
at the sound of his voice, you looked up. your smile melted away and you wore the usual serious face whenever seungcheol was around. 
he hated it, the fact that you had to hide your relationship. he wanted everyone to know that you were his, and then maybe all the stupid men in the office would stop trying to ask you out. 
"why?" you asked, your tone bored. 
"because you were the last one to go through the files and i need help" he matched your bored tone. 
wonwoo laughed, making seungcheol turn to him. he raised his eyebrows, a silent question thrown at the man sitting in front of you. wonwwo just shook his head, his smile suddenly gone. he turned to you, eyebrows still raised. 
you sighed and followed him. your heels clicking on the floor while you followed him three steps behind. 
was the archive room always that far away?
"what do you need?" you asked, tone still bored, when the room came into view. 
seungcheol opened the door for you and followed you inside, locking the door behind him. 
when you turned to look at him you smiled at him, your arms crossed over your chest. he threw the folder he used to cover himself to the side and put his hands on his waist. you watched in complete amazement and laughed when you noticed the bulge in his pants. 
"awn, did you like the pictures that much?" your voice was taunting. 
seungcheol took three steps closer to you and pulled your hand, putting it over his cock. just that was almost enough to get a moan out of him. 
the second he saw the picture of you over him, his dick deep inside your pussy, it was all he could think about. having you again, as fast as possible was his only concern. 
"there are cameras in here," you said, your eyes wide while you looked around, lightly pulling your hand away from his grasp. 
"there isn't"  
at his words, you opened the zipper of his pants just enough to push your hands into his boxers. you wrapped your hand around his cock and ran your thumbs over his tip, pumping him a couple of times. you smiled when a quick shudder ran over him. 
seungcheol grabbed your face and pulled you to him, his lips crashing over yours. he pushed his tongue through your lips, taking control. his hands moved down to your neck, squeezing it softly. 
"my little menace," he said "what did you think was going to happen, hm?"
he pulled your skirt up until it was pooled around your waist and pushed you until your back was pressed against the wall.
"you wanted me to walk out of that room and fuck you, over your desk?"
you moaned at the thought, though in your ideal world, none of your coworkers would be around to witness it. seungcheol turned you around and forced your legs apart with his feet while holding one of your arms behind your back. you used your free hand to steady yourself on the wall. 
"if you don't ask, i'm not going to fuck you, baby" 
it was something seungcheol often relished on, the fact that he could make you beg. you were so quiet, so shy, but he always made you say it, implore for it. 
"you're the one with a hard on, sweetheart" you teased. if he thought that you were going to beg this time too, he was wrong "i can go back to work as if nothing happened"
you really couldn't. if you did it was going to be the worst work day for you because the only thing you could possibly think about was the fact that your boyfriend had a hard on because of you and you said no when he wanted to fuck you. 
seungcheol shoved your panties aside and pushed himself into you. he groaned as your walls sucked him in. you moaned at the feeling of being full, at being stretched out to fit him. he moved relentlessly, his pace almost cruel as he searched for his release. 
"jesus, cheol..." a loud moan left your lips as you were suddenly pressed on the wall. 
"you have to be quiet, baby" you could feel his smirk on your neck "everyone will hear you"
seungcheol snaked his arm around your waist, and his fingers worked your clit with the same drive as his hips moved. he was a madman and you loved every single piece of him. you covered your mouth with your hand, your eyes shut close, in a pathetic attempt to be quiet. even if your moans couldn't be heard, there was no way people wouldn't hear the sound of his hips on your yours. 
"you’re going to be filled with cum" he whispered, his free hand grabbing your neck, tilting your head back "running down your thighs the entire day"
seungcheol pinched your clit and it was enough to throw you over the edge. this time you were able to swallow your moan. you pressed your hands on the wall, trying to steady yourself, as your legs shook. seungcheol was quick to follow, your walls clenching around him like a vice as he pounded into you again and again. 
he used your shoulder to quiet his own moan and heavy breath.
"just so you know, this wasn't my intention," you said once you were able to breathe again.
seungcheol laughed and took a step back as he adjusted his shirt and pants.
"no?"
you rolled your eyes and leaned on the wall.
"maybe later, at your place" you gave in
he laughed and pulled your skirt down while you buttoned his shirt. 
"well, it's only noon"
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yxami · 6 months
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Happy nut or not November day 10
desc: desperate yandere x gn reader, slight hints of masochism/degradation, mentions of stalking, obsession, perverted habits, hint of nsfw if you squint
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Desperate yandere that doubles his homemade lunches so the two of you could eat together in case you forget your lunch.
He’s the same guy that ties your shoelaces when you ask with a whiny tone, expecting him to say no at first until he pulls your foot on top of his thigh no matter how expensive his pants are.
He loves to spoil you with little affections but he’d never dare to make anything obvious. No way. He’ll only drop small hints and things that might have you growing a suspicion that he has deeper feelings than a normal friend should.
He’s too shy to admit anything directly, he’s just waiting for you to finally get the lit light bulb in your head about everything.
Desperate yandere that sprays his signature body spray on you that costs an unnecessary amount of money just so people get that you’re always around him even if he’s not already glued at your side to prove it.
Since there are times where he can’t stay right beside you he’ll resort to other tactics as well, either it’s convincing one of his stupid admirers to watch you or downloading a tracking app on your phone without you noticing, he’ll always make sure to keep tabs on you.
The day he gets caught is the day he dies of pure embarrassment.
And unfortunately for him today was the day.
“What is this?” You trap your beloved friend in the gymnasium corner behind the bleachers, the place were couples often went to go make out, but this situation was far from something like that. You were sure that your friend was hiding a certain secret but you weren’t sure what it was.
“Ha.. Um, your phone?” His throat croaks under the pressure as he presses his back into the corner, it should be illegal to be making him feel this hot and bothered, he’s trying to suppress the boiling feeling in his stomach.
“Don’t play games right now, what is this?” You click on a hidden app that was purposefully taken off your home screen, it seemed to be a tracker that people use to watch over their friends and families but you don’t recall getting this and the only other person was unnamed and directly above your profile on the map tracking you.
You clicked on a button that called the profile in the app and his phone started ringing, what a shocker.
“I—I don’t even know why it’s ringing..!” He dryly laughs, fumbling to grab his phone to end the call before you snatch it out his hands, he instinctively reached for it but you shoot a look at him that makes him let out a throaty whine with pink pouty lips.
“Why would you download this on my phone?” You sigh, holding his phone hostage by having it right on top of your phone as you look through his, trying to figure out what else he might have. You’re honestly surprised he hasn’t grabbed it out of fear that you’d find worse things.
“I just… um I don’t know!” His exhale stutters as it sounds like he’s ready to sob, glassy eyes evident as he looks up at you. He pushes his bottom lip even more as he reaches his hand out to cling onto you like he always did before pulling back incase you’d get mad.
“M’sorry..” He murmurs, never failing to stop looking at you, as if to prove his obedience even more than he already did during your friendship.
“Geez, what am I gonna do with you..” You fold your arms, phones still in hand as you lean against the other wall connecting to the corner. He still sits quietly against the other one, as if waiting for your command.
“Forgive me?” He frowns, daring to suggest something even if it rhetorical. He has a feeling from your words that you’re not actually pissed so he gets up and hugs you, pressing himself into you as he drops his head on your shoulder, inhaling your comfortable scent.
“Dunno’ I’ll have to think about your punishment” You feel for his back pocket to shove his phone into and he pressed himself more into you as if to give you more range to touch him, shamelessly enjoying your hands on him. He probably would’ve enjoyed you kicking his ass too.
“Okay, can it be at your house?” He says with too much of an eager tone than you needed right now. If he had a tail it would’ve been wagging at the idea too.
“Don’t think that this is a reward” You yank near the bottom of his hair when you feel him getting too cocky and running his hands down the small of your back. He lets out a filthy moan with blush pouring across his face as he looks slightly up, showing his adams apple.
“Sorry, I’ll behave..!” He submissively says, hoping you’d just attack his neck with kisses and bites to mark him but even he knows that’s out of the question right now.
Maybe you’d do it when he came over..?
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kkami-writes · 8 months
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that hufflepuff boy
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pairing. hufflepuff!felix x slytherin!fem!reader ft! hufflepuff!bangchan, slytherin!seungmin, ravenclaw!hyunjin synopsis. The moment you stepped into the halls of Hogwarts your classmates had deemed you as the princess of slytherin, a title you learned to hate. If only they knew that the cold, seemingly proper girl was absolutely head over heels for Hufflepuff's resident sunshine boy, Lee Felix. tags/cw. hogwarts!au, fluff, maybe some angst if you squint, lots and lots of mutual pining, acquaintances to lovers, side seungjin, smut, slight corruption, public sex (library), virgin!felix, oral (m + f receiving), vaginal fingering, pet names (princess, love), unprotected sex (don't do it), swallowing of cum
disclaimer!!! both felix and reader are 18+, consenting adults at the time of smut. word count. 5k (5,155)
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The first time you had met Felix is during third year, on a random spring morning as the two of you were paired up during potions. It had been a rough first three years for you as the nickname of Slytherin’s princess had been pushed upon you solely based on your parents' old-fashioned views. Even in this more progressive time, there were still a fair amount of pure-blood purists despite it being an unpopular stance after the second wizarding war.
Still, people had assumed you had thought the same as your parents and being sorted into slytherin hadn’t helped your case. Reluctantly, you instead fell into your role as the prim and proper princess they thought you were - no one had ever bothered to even ask if you could think for yourself or had your own opinions. Although you did have a few actual friends, the isolation you had felt from your peers had made you slightly bitter. 
So when you’re paired up with a random hufflepuff who gives you the brightest smile you’ve ever seen, one that could easily rival the sun - you’re a little starstruck. You don’t think anyone has ever looked at you like this and it easily makes your cheeks darken. He treats you like a normal person, as if you were already friends and it’s…refreshing to say the least. The last person you got partnered up with had sat as far away from you as they could and didn’t talk unless absolutely necessary. 
You’re surprised that you work well with the boy, him making small conversation and keeping you engaged in the potion work. Felix is nice, almost too nice, and you’re sure he’s like this with everyone but you still feel a surge of happiness when he laughs at one of your small jabs. You can’t help but think the sound is just as sweet as him. 
As class ends, you’re packing up your books and Felix waves goodbye to you with that pretty smile on display. 
“Bye! I hope we can talk again!” Then he’s gone and you’re left sitting there a little dazed as you stare at his retreating figure, something stirring in your chest that you’re not 100% sure of, but you do know one thing. 
And it’s that Felix is made up of sugar, everything nice and sun kissed freckles, and you’re pretty sure you’re fucked.
By fifth year you had fully recognized that the flowers blooming your chest was pure adoration for the hufflepuff. You had been sitting in the library with Seungmin, who was busy with his nose in a book and blatantly ignoring your obvious heart eyes towards a certain boy who sat not too far away at his own table; him and his quidditch captain Chan were probably going over some strategies for the upcoming game this weekend. Hyunjin was on your left, the ravenclaw busy with another one of his drawings he often did. 
You let out a small dreamy sigh, one that was barely audible but it was enough to have your fellow slytherin rolling his eyes and closing his book.  “Are you for real? You look so pathetic…how long have you been pining over that hufflepuff for?” He groans, throwing his head back. 
“Aw, I think it’s kinda cute,” Hyunjin chimes in, not looking up from his drawing.
“That’s because you’re a hopeless romantic,”
“Ok mister I read romance novels,” At this Seungmin’s ears tinge red and you think he might throw his book at the male. They thought you were annoying with your crush? They should look at themselves. With Seungmin thinking he was slick with his hidden gazes towards the ravenclaw or the many sketches Hyunjin had of the slytherin. 
“Can you two shut up? I’m busy pining over here,” They both roll their eyes at you now. 
“Honestly? I’m surprised he’s your type. I thought someone like Minho hyung was your type,”
“It’s because Felix is the only one willing to give yn any time of the day,” You swat at Hyunjin for that and he simply clutches his arm dramatically, whining your name. 
As you play fight with your friends (was it really playing though? The three of you were probably gonna get kicked out of the library soon), it goes unnoticed by you that someone else had been staring a little too long over at your table, his eyes sparkling as he watched you interact with the two who were usually never seen without you. He’s pulled from his thoughts as his own best friend and quidditch captain Chan nudged him from his tiny daydream. 
“You good mate? You've been staring at her for a while. We are supposed to be going over strategies,” He teases lightly as he watches Felix’s ears turn a little red. 
“Um, right. Sorry! I’ll focus, I promise,” Chan laughs, his signature dimples showing as he ruffles up the blonde’s hair.
“It’s fine, I should probably go study for my n.e.w.t.s anyway and we have practice tomorrow so we can go over more stuff,” Felix nods, agreeing with him before his gaze is once again glancing over towards you and it looks like you’re about to strangle Seungmin, while Hyunjin holds you back by your robes with a bored look on his face. He can’t help but laugh at your guy’s ministrations - he loved that you had slowly come out of your shell since third year and had found some good friends.
Well, at least he hoped they were just friends. He wouldn’t go as far to say the two of you were friends either, just acquaintances, mostly talking to each other in the halls when you passed by or occasionally partnering up during class. But Felix still did not have the guts to ask you out on a date, the fear of rejection controlling him. Chan is nudging him again and he’s pulled out of yet another daydream.
“Damn, you’ve got it bad huh? You’ve barely even talked to her for the last two years,” “Hey, that’s not true!! I say hi to her everytime I see her in the hall!”
“Uh huh. Why are you so interested in her anyway? Aren’t her parents blood-purists? I don’t think they’d approve of a muggleborn, no offense. And she is called the slytherin princess for a reason,” 
“Yeah but she’s not like that,” Felix is quick to defend you, not that he really thought Chan believed in those kinds of rumors - he was just curious about his crush.
“How do you know?” “Just- okay in third year, I remember everyone telling me to beware of the ‘slytherin princess’” he makes quotations with his fingers. “That she was cold and mean and definitely would not be nice to a muggleborn like me. But then we got partnered together during potions and she was really nice? And funny? I just thought you know, that she couldn’t be that bad. Plus! Seungmin and Hyunjin are both half-bloods, and they’re like her best friends. When we talk, just the two of us, she’s kinda shy to be honest. It’s cute and all but, when I see her like that,” Felix points to you, who is laughing hard at a joke Seungmin had said, both you and Hyunjin holding onto each other as you wheeze. The librarian shushes you loudly and gives the three of you yet another warning, only one away from getting kicked out. “When she’s alone with her friends she blossoms into this really bubbly and bright personality and I just - I want to be able to bring out that side of her when she’s with me. I wanna be able to get to know her more…you know…maybe ask her on a date,” He flushes at that and Chan lets out a low whistle that gets his own little hush from the librarian.
“Yeah, you are down atrocious my man. I think it’s time to put on your big boy pants. You should ask her out, after the hufflepuff vs slytherin game. After we win you can ask if she wants to go celebrate,” 
“Oh..that might be a good idea. She always comes to the games for Seungmin. But wait, what if we lose?” 
(Felix will later find out that you had only ever attended the Hufflepuff vs Slytherin games just so you could watch him, something Seungmin always complained and pouted about.  “I’M your best friend! You should be watching for me!! Not that stupid pretty Hufflepuff,” “So you admit he’s pretty?”
“I fucking hate you,” ) “Then you ask her if she’ll take you on a date so you can get over this horrific loss we have faced,”
“That…makes me sound like a loser,” Chan just shrugs. 
“Listen, if it gets you a date who cares,”
“Ok, yeah. You’re right. First, we’re gonna stomp Slytherin into the ground. And then- I’m gonna ask her out,”
Felix did not in fact put on his big boy pants on. While they had in fact won the game, he had frozen when you hopped over to him, a pretty smile on your face as you congratulated him on the win. His mind blanked, head empty as he just stared at how pretty you looked and how he wished he could give you his Hufflepuff scarf for you to wear. He wanted you to cheer for him during his quidditch games. He thinks you’d look breathtaking in yellow. 
But instead he said a quick ‘thanks!’ before running away, face completely red and leaving you behind with a small disappointed look on your face.
By seventh year, you were no closer to being over your infatuation with the pretty freckled Hufflepuff. Even though you had dated other people here and there, no one could compare to the way your heart reacted whenever you talked to Felix briefly in the halls. 
Still, you had slightly given up hope that the boy would reciprocate your feelings. Afterall, he had shown no signs of being into you - despite what Seungmin and Hyunjin had told you. You were still scared of rejection, that he wouldn’t be interested in a Slytherin like yourself, much less one still dubbed the princess of snakes. 
Yet Felix continued to treat you the same as always, greeting you in the hallways with that sweet smile of his and it never failed to put butterflies in your stomach. 
So when you’re paired up for a project in potions again, you can’t help the excitement that builds in your chest. It’s a more extensive project, requiring you to brew a particularly complex potion, needing to do research in the restricted section as well as write an essay. 
“Hey!” Felix greets you with that devastating smile and you pretend you’re not melting on the inside. His voice had gotten so deep and that blasted australian accent was constantly trying to make your knees buckle when you heard it. You can see Seungmin in your peripheral vision, pretending to gag over how pathetic you look face to face with your crush. Subtly you flip him off and you can hear his infectious laugh as he walks out of the classroom, probably off to find Hyunjin.
“Hi Felix,” 
“So, when are you free to work on the project?” “Honestly whenever you’re free, I know practice must keep you busy captain,” At the title his cheeks flush involuntarily, scratching his cheek shyly. Oh what you wouldn’t give to kiss his beautiful freckled cheeks.
“Yeah well, Seungmin has been keeping us on our toes. He’s always been good at strategy and as captain he’s really proved himself. But besides practice I'm pretty free too. We have practice on Wednesdays and Fridays. So we could do the project this weekend? If you want of course, we could pick another day if you want,” 
“Nope, this weekend sounds perfect,”
“Great, wanna meet at the library at one?” 
You nod and he gives you a small smile before bidding you goodbye. And that’s how you end up with a study date with one Lee Felix. (Neither of you had said the word date but you could dream and live in your delusions for a while. At least before Seungmin pulls you back down from the clouds.) 
Saturday comes much faster than you expect and you take almost half the morning preparing yourself - perhaps taking a little extra time on your makeup and hair. Of course you make sure not to go too overboard, just accentuating your features a little more, wanting to impress the way too pretty Hufflepuff. 
Even though you show up to the library ten minutes early, you’re surprised to find Felix already there with a book open and taking notes. When he looks up to see you his expression brightens up significantly, waving you over quickly. He’s rendered you speechless with a simple look and you can feel those annoying butterflies fluttering in your stomach. 
“Sorry did I keep you waiting? I thought I was early,” You say as you take a seat next to him, pulling out your own notes and potion textbook.
“Oh no, don’t worry. I uh- got here early to get us a spot next to the restricted section,” Your head nods in understanding as you bite back a laugh, the library practically empty due to it being a Saturday. 
After some brief small talk, the two of you get into researching the potion, taking extensive notes on how to properly brew the concoction without causing your cauldron to explode. It was a tricky potion, requiring absolute perfection in order to work. 
Somehow during your silent period of individual research, Felix had managed to scoot as close to you as possible, thighs pressed together and you thought your heart might leap out of your chest. You can smell the hint of his floral cologne and the urge to bury your face into the crook of his neck is overwhelming. 
The two of you stay like that for a while before you close your textbook, stretching out your arms and flexing your hands from writing too much. 
“Shall we check out the restricted section? I think i’ve read all that I can in our textbook,” 
“Yeah, same! This potion is gonna be a pain in the ass,”
“Tell me about it. I’m not exactly looking forward to actually brewing it,”
“Can’t be that bad, I’ll get to do it with you,” And there it is, those damn butterflies making another appearance. You flush before clearing your throat, moving towards the restricted section, having already gotten permission from your teacher and the librarian. Felix can’t help but find the blush on your cheeks beautiful.
The two of you moved to start to browse the new section, looking for specifics on the ingredients needed for the more intense potion that you would have to brew. Your eyes skim through the shelves, noting some of the more interesting books that you might have to take a closer look at later, specifically a fun book on jinxes that you could probably use against Seungmin who was always trying to create new spells to tease you with. And on the rare occasion the two of you would team up to bully Hyunjin instead, especially when he was bragging about acing a test he didn’t even bother studying for. It would have to wait for now as you spotted an old potioneering book that looked promising on the top shelf. Reaching for it, you cursed at how short you were - even standing on your tiptoes didn’t help as you extended your fingers as much as you could. 
Suddenly you can feel a firm chest pressed to your back and a hand resting on your hip, another hand coming to grab the book you were trying to get. Your heart thumps against your ribcage at the close proximity of Felix, trying not to think about how his body feels as its pressed flush against your back or the grip on your hips as he steadies you. Slowly you turn around in his grasp, blinking up at him as he practically has you up against the bookcase, caging you in. Felix is also looking at you, an uncharacteristically serious expression on his face and the potion book in his hand.   It feels like you’ve been standing there forever, both of you just getting lost in each other's eyes and you wonder how many constellations you could draw against his freckles. The way you want to count just how many he has or if he had more in other places as well. Your eyes widen when the hand that was resting on your hip is suddenly moving up to cup your cheek and you wonder if he can see the way you flush under the dim lighting of the library. 
“Can I kiss you?” The deep timbre of his voice never fails to send shivers down your spine or heat into your stomach. You nod even though you really wanna say ‘hell yes’, you manage to hold back and not embarrass yourself, especially now when he’s asked something you’ve wanted to do since third year. 
His lips feel plush against your own, and you vaguely wonder if this was real. If Lee Felix was really here, kissing you sweet and softly like you were the most precious and delicate object in his hands. It’s a short simple kiss and you almost go to chase his lips when he pulls back, but you don’t have to worry as he doesn’t keep you waiting too long. He drops the book to be forgotten, as he brings his other hand to fully frame your face and kisses you square on the mouth. Your head tilts as he deepens the kiss, lips molding perfectly together. 
His tongue is swiping along the seam of your lips, asking for permission which you happily grant, tiers parting for him so he can lick at your own wet muscle. You can’t help the blissful sigh that falls from your lips and Felix all but eagerly swallows the noise, his pink tongue exploring every inch of you that he can. He has you fully pressed against the bookshelf now, your bodies slotted together, as if two puzzle pieces had been connected and you can start to feel something hard being pressed against your hips.
You can barely even focus on that with how dizzy the kiss is making you feel (though it’s possible it’s the lack of air as you’ve basically forgotten how to breathe). Teasingly you nip at his lower lip, sucking it into your mouth and he all but lets out a deep groan that makes you wetter than you’d like to admit. Eventually you both part for air, the two of you practically panting, lips slick with each other. You’re licking at your swollen lips, still able to taste him on your tongue as a thought pops into your head. You move to place your hands on Felix’s hips, maneuvering him so you’re the one who has him pressed against the bookshelf. He tilts his head and looks at you inquisitively, and you can’t help but coo at how cute he looks, especially with slightly reddened cheeks and completely kiss bitten lips. 
It’s only when you move down to your knees does he understand what you’re doing, him scrambling to try to pull you back up but you don’t budge. 
“A-ah! W-wait. What are you do-” He falters as he watches you glance up at him through your lashes, sweet innocent eyes looking up at him. Just the sight of you like this, looking so pretty on your knees for him makes his dick twitch in his pants, trying to swallow the lump in his throat. 
You place your hands on his thighs, running them up until your fingers are playing with the zipper of his trousers and he watches as your tongue darts out to dampen your already slick lips. “Is this ok?” You question simply, watching as Felix’s resolve crumbles, nodding his head. 
With permission you’re quick to undo his pants, only pulling them down to expose his already hard cock. His dick is somehow pretty, yet it doesn’t surprise you - everything about the boy was just so pretty. You lean in to press small teasing kisses to his length, keeping eye contact with the Hufflepuff. Felix doesn’t dare take his eyes off of you, so entranced by you. As much as you’d love to tease him, to build him up until he was begging for you - the two of you weren’t exactly in a private space, so you’d have to do it another time (god you hoped there would be another time). You part your lips to take the head into your mouth and it has Felix gasping already, his head falling back against the bookcase and his hands finding purchase in your hair. You hollow your cheeks as you suck softly, his natural musky scent was mixing with the floral cologne he had put on and it was all so heady, making you slightly lightheaded. 
He’s completely lost in the way your mouth feels against his hard length, warm and wet, and he’s scared to finish too fast like some virgin (even though that’s exactly what he was). Yet he can’t stop you, blunt nails grasping at your silky locks as you blow him, eliciting a moan from you that vibrates against his cock. His bottom lip is between his teeth in an attempt to stop any embarrassing noises from escaping. 
Except when you’ve got his whole cock down your throat, choking on it slightly has a deep moan slipping from his lips. He’s looking down at you through half-lidded eyes, pupils blown and hazy with lust, the sight of you with your mouth absolutely stuffed with his cock has him twitching in your mouth. You can taste his salty precum in the back of your throat, desperate to see what his release will taste like. 
“Ah…fuck. Princess you look so pretty like this…’m gonna cum,” He grunts softly and he can’t help the small buck of his hips into your mouth.
You definitely weren’t expecting the nickname, but you found yourself liking it MUCH more when it was coming from Felix. You open your mouth with your tongue lolling out when he tells you he’s close, blinking up at him and he gets the message. He releases your hair to bring his hand to his cock, stroking it once, twice - before he’s coming thick ropes into your mouth. You patiently wait for him to finish before you’re swallowing his load and you definitely don’t miss the way he groans just from watching you do that. A giggle falls from your lips as you come to stand up and he’s quick to kiss you again, moaning from tasting himself against your swollen tiers. 
He’s tucking himself back into his pants but not bothering to redo his pants before he’s once again moving you so he can press you against the bookshelf. It’s your turn to tilt your head in questioning as he moves to kneel down, hands running up your upper thighs until they’re disappearing under your skirt. He loops his fingers into your panties as he looks up at you.
“Can I?” He asks and his eyes are still dark with arousal, completely gone at this point. You nod far too eagerly and he chuckles deeply at how excited you look, slowly dragging your (damp) underwear down, having you step out of them. He slips them into his back pocket with a smirk. 
“You’re not getting these back,” 
Your mouth is wide with his bold words, wondering where the shy Felix has gone. You don’t really have much time to think more about it before he’s diving under your skirt and attaching his mouth to your wet cunt, a hand coming up to your mouth to muffle the sound that leaves your lips involuntarily. He laps at your core, moaning against you at your taste and the vibrations only aid in your pleasure. You can’t even see him with your skirt completely covering him but you can’t find it in you to even care, the way his tongue is flicking at your clit has you whimpering. His hands are gripping at your hips tightly and you hope that he leaves a mark, a memory of this moment you shared with him.
He has you all but clenching around nothing as his lips suck on your sensitive bud and your back is arching off the bookshelf and your head is thrown back. Soft moans spill from your lips and the sounds go straight to his dick, feeling himself hardening again in his pants. It doesn’t matter though as his focus is on you and he so badly wants you to cum against his tongue. Felix easily slips two fingers into your heat with how slick you are and you let out a soft sigh at the sensation. He’s a little clumsy with them but you’re too far gone to really care, feeling your thighs start to shake and that familiar pressure building in your lower stomach. 
“Lix- Lixie. I’m close,” You manage to mumble out, not knowing how much longer you are gonna last, especially with how his skillful tongue continues to work you to your high. With your words he’s once again latching onto your clit with his lips, sucking eagerly and his fingers pushing into you faster. He hums against your core and you’re gone, your rather loud moan muffled by your hand as you’re coming against his face. Felix doesn’t stop lapping at your pussy until you have to push him away, feeling sensitivity starting to build. 
When he comes back up he has to hold you up, your legs shaking slightly in the aftermath of your orgasm. He’s quick to have his lips on yours again and you can taste yourself against his tongue. He can tell he’s going to quickly become absolutely addicted to kissing you, your lips so soft against his own. Felix is pressing against you and you can feel that he’s hard again, so you reluctantly pull away to call out to him. 
“Felix,” You start, suddenly feeling shy even though you literally just had his dick in your mouth. 
“Yes love?” It really feels like he’s trying to kill you with these nicknames but you push through, letting your hips rock against his and he’s biting at his lip hard to stop himself from moaning. 
“I want you. So bad. . .need you inside me,” 
He seems a little hesitant but he can’t deny the way his dick twitches just at the thought of being buried inside you. How warm and tight you’d feel against his length.
“Are- Are you sure?” You nod. You’ve never been so sure about anything in your life.
“Yes. I-If it’s okay with you,” Still you stress this point, not wanting to pressure him but you’d be lying if you weren’t still absolutely soaked for the boy in front of you. 
“How can I say no to you?” He hums, pressing a soft kiss to your lips before slowly turning you around to have you bent forward slightly. You grab onto the bookshelf to ground yourself, biting at your bottom lip as you feel him grinding his clothed cock against your core. You’re about to open your mouth to beg him to stop teasing you but then you feel his tip pressing against your entrance and all thoughts are flying out of your head. Felix is gripping you tightly by the waist and slowly, almost agonizingly slowly he pushes in. You can feel every single inch until he’s completely sheathed in your warmth and the groan he lets out fills your belly with straight heat.
“F-fuck. So good, you feel so good princess,” He groans, his breath heavy as he shakily pulls out just enough so he can easily slide back in, setting a slightly uneven pace but it feels so good that you don’t even care. All you can think about is Felix, the way his hands feel against your skin, how sweet he sounds as he murmurs praises against your ear, the way his cock fills you so nicely - your head is so blissfully empty besides the Hufflepuff and you love it. He angles himself upwards, finding your sweet spot so easily and you clench around him the moment he hits it.
His hips rock languidly into you as he flips your skirt up so he can see the way his cock disappears into your soaked cunt. Felix is so entranced at the way your arousal clings to his length, you’re so wet you’re practically dripping down your thighs and it makes it so much easier to thrust into you. He knows he’s not gonna last very long so he grabs you to pull you flush against his chest, holding you to him as a hand wraps to your front, two fingers rubbing at your clit.
“Lix! Oh- Oh…’m close,” You mumble out, gasping as he holds you against his body, your hips trying to meet his thrusts. 
“Yeah? Gonna cum princess? Need you to cum all over my cock. Can you do that love?” He hums into your ear and his voice has you absolutely gone, Felix purposely making it just a little bit deeper. The way his cock is pressing against your gummy g-spot has you seeing stars. 
It doesn’t take long until you’re shuddering and coming, your walls spasming around Felix which has him reaching his own orgasm - spilling into you with his warm seed. Both of you are panting hard with you holding onto the bookshelf as if it was your last lifeline, practically the only thing keeping you up with how shaky your knees are. 
When he pulls out you whine a little, feeling his cum leaking down your thighs. He watches for a second, seeing his own release dripping from your pussy has a surge of pride filling his chest. After a second he pulls out his wand, muttering a quick spell that cleans you up, thankful that charms had been his best class. You need a bit longer to collect yourself, your head slightly fuzzy from two orgasms. 
Felix is busy looking you over, making sure your uniform is neat and smoothing your hair down. It’s all sweet and lowkey domestic, making your heart swell at the Hufflepuff in front of you. He smiles that smile you love and it baffles you how this boy could go from fucking you in the restricted section of the library to this innocent looking sunshine. 
He’s coming to cup your face again, leaving a few kisses against your cheeks before kissing your lips.
“So like…I know this is backwards but uh- do you like? Maybe wanna go on a date sometime? And be my girlfriend?”
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walpu · 2 months
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I've got those requests almost at the same time jsrfwwxewe also I fucked up big time and accidentally deleted them but thanks god I've made the screenshots
I've been looking forward to writing something nsfw for him lmao
nsfw headcanons w/Aventurine
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characters - Aventurine notes - gn!reader, nsfw, subby!Aven. Somehow turned into a character study. Somewhat angsty but with a turn for hurt/comfort. No beta.
Okay, first of all, he's no virgin. But he's NOT a manwhore either. Like for some reason when it comes to the cunning characters it's always either he's a dickrider-pussydestroyer-900 or he's actually a fragile innocent virgin baby. Not the case with Aventurine, not on my watch at least.
I mean it's pretty much canon that the only moment he feels truly alive is when he's gambling so he won't seek sex for the purpose of filling up the hole in his heart. And I don't see him as a lustful person in general.
He has one-night stands from time to time though. Not particularly often but once in a while he feels a certain level of frustration and stress budling up in him so in order to distress without losing his cool he seeks sexual relief. For him it's a safe way to relax a bit without actually taking off the mask of a frivolous and confident man.
Also. He's very touch starved. Not even in a lustful way, he just wants to feel someone's touch. Someone on twitter pointed out that he's practically hugging himself on his e6 and I haven't been the same ever since.
And now look at his body language in almost every cutscene. He has his arms crossed and is generally pretty reversed. I think he doesn't trust people around enough to be in his personal space but when it's a part of the sexual act, it's just natural. He doesn't have to feel exposed. So yeah. This is another reason why he seeks sex.
Now do you remember what Sparkle said to him? About stripping himself naked for Sunday and all that? Yeah I feel like he gets comments like that a lot due to people's prejudice against Avgins. People are usually not this straightforward butttt the idea behind their comments is the same.
He may act unaffected as long as he wants to but I do think it messed him up quite a bit.
Due to his fucked up views on his own value and his sexuality he doesn't have a healthy set of boundaries with his partners, allowing them to be as mean and rough as they want. And I don't mean just kinky stuff, I mean genuinely uncaring partners who really don't give a shit about Aven's comfort. I think subconsciously he seeks people like this. In his eyes, it's better this way, otherwise he may crumble from a gently and caring touch.
So yeah. His sexual encounters usually leave him sore and exhausted. The initial feeling of relief washes away in the morning, leaving him more empty than before.
Okay now to the happier part because we are 466 words in and I still didn't say anything good or sexy.
If the two of you started your relationship as a fling then initially he would be surprised because of how observant and attentive you are.
"My, my, how caring you are. But don't worry about me, you're free to use me as you wish" he says in the same flirty tone as usual. And you just. Stare.
He acts like he's bored while you literally pry the information out of him and, well, he doesn't give you anything specific anyway so you have to ask questions during the whole prosses to make sure he's doing fine. Orrr you just set for something very vanilla just in case.
In reality he's a bit confused. Has mixed feeling about this. Being treated with such care makes it harder for him to hide behind his mask but it feels so nice.
And when he realizes that he has actual feelings for you he just. Stops sleeping with you lmao. If you have questions about this he'll find 2134144 excuses but in reality he just tries to figure out his own feelings.
If you started off as friends then he would not try to sleep with you until you start dating. At first he just doesn't want to mix up this dynamics. And when he catches feelings, he just tries to make sense of it. Plus since sex is not something entirely positive for him, he's just kind of... unsure how it may affect your relationship even if it's obvious that the two of you want each other.
Okay now the real talk. When the two of you are officially lovers be prepared to face his messed up views on his own sexuality. Will probably need a lot of reassurance, attention and aftercare to realize the importance of his own safety and comfort. Learns to value himself through you.
A very good lover, knows how to please you and wants to please you. His previous sex partners weren't important to him so he didn't go out of his way to make them feel good but with you it's a different story. Literally worships your body, pressing kisses everywhere. Especially likes your thighs. Kisses them, bites them, leaves marks all over them. Loooooves teasing them while keeping eye contact with you right before giving you oral.
I feel like he's a switch but leans towards being a sub. May dom if you want him to or, rarely, if he feels like it.
May look like a brat but is not actually a brat. Well, most of the time. He's a tease but still does pretty much everything you want without making you work for it. However, if he's in a playful mood, may get all cheeky with you. Says stuff like: "Oh, that's all? I know you can do better" or "My dearest, don't disappoint me, okay? You know I don't make deals that don't pay off" just to rile you up. He loves being tamed okay. He knows you won't hurt him so him being all cheeky and disobedient is actually a huge sign that he's comfortable with you and trusts you fully.
Worship his body and he'll melt. Like. He'll genuinely crumble.
Goes all worked up and needy and soft and completely submissive in your arms.
Loves loves loves edging you. And fucking hate being edged. And by "hates" I mean he will whine and sulk and beg you to let him cum already. Secretly loves it but won't admit. You know it anyway since he never tries to stop you, obeying your every command, like a good boy he is. If you tell him that you'll stop doing that if he actually wants you to he'll huff and admit that he's not actually against you being a meanie.
Loves marking your body and loves when you mark his. HOWEVER would prefer to leave/have hickeys on the parts of your bodies that are usually covered. Doesn't want to create any rumors and doesn't want to make you uncomfortable. However, if you're into this, he'll gladly cover your entire neck with hickeys.
Is actually very sensitive pretty much everywhere so it's quite easy to overstimulate him. Once again, he'll whine but would never be against it.
Has the pretties moans and is very loud as well.
Doesn't have a lot of stamina so if he tops and you're still not satisfied after he cums, he'll use toys to entertain you up until he is ready for another round. If he bottoms then please give him some time to rest. Andddd kiss all over his body so he would get worked up again as soon as possible.
Has a praise kink. And a bit of a degradation kink too actually. Don't just insult him, mix it up with a praise and boom he's ready to cum.
Loves aftercare. Both giving and receiving it. He feels extremely vulnerable after a sensual lovemaking session so please just hold him and tell him he did great.
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gothhabiba · 9 months
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Some hints about evaluating scientific studies
Firstly, understand that something being published in a scientific journal (or an academic journal for the social sciences) does not automatically make it true. Publishers profit from publishing novel, eye-catching, surprising research, which means they are more likely to publish positive results than ones that didn't find a connection between given variables. This means that scientists' careers benefit when they get positive results. Certain institutions also benefit from certain findings above others (a committee for research on "obesity" that is funded by a government organisation tasked with ending it, for example, is likely to try to stretch the evidence to find a link between body weight and poor health outcomes). So how do people evaluate scientific studies, especially without being scientists themselves?
Literature reviews
Literature reviews, which aim to assemble and summarise most of the available or influential papers on a given issue, can be a good place to start when trying to research that issue. Typically, scientific studies shouldn't only be evaluated on a case-by-case basis (since even well-designed studies can be contradicted by other, equally well-designed studies), but a full survey of the different results people have gotten should be taken.
Background information and conflicts of interest
Try to find out who funded a given study. Who published the study? What do these people stand to gain from the results of the study being accepted? (For example: you might pay special attention to the experimental design on a study on whether a certain essential oil helps to reverse hair loss that was carried out by a company that sells that oil.)
In theory, many journals call for study authors to declare any conflicts of interest they may have in a special section of the paper. This section should also list funding sources. You might also look up the authors on linkedin or something to find where they're employed; also look into whether another conglomerate owns that company, &c.
Experimental design
If the study involves a survey, have the authors of the paper provided the questions that people were asked, so that you can evaluate them for potential ambiguity or confusing wording? Not being transparent about the exact wording of questions is a sign that a study isn't trustworthy.
What's the sample size? Is it large enough for the claim the study is making to be reasonable? (More on this in the next section.)
Does the experimental design make sense with what the researchers wanted to study? Are the claims that they make in the conclusion section something that could reasonably be proven or suggested by the experiment that they performed?
Does the experimental design "bake in" an assumption of the truth of its hypothesis? (For example, measuring skeletons to argue that they fall into statistically significant size groupings by sex, using skeletons that you sorted into "male" and "female" groups based on their size, is clearly circular).
How was data collected? People might change their answers to a survey, for example, if they have to speak to a person to give them, rather than writing them down anonymously. Self-reported information (such as a survey aiming to figure out average height or average penis size) is also subject to bias. A good study should be transparent about how the authors collected their data, and be clear about how this could have affected their results.
Also regarding surveys: do the categories that the authors have divided respondents into make sense? Are these categories really mutually exclusive? If respondents were asked to sort themselves into categories (e.g., to select their own race or ethnicity), is there any guarantee that they all interpreted the question / the boundaries of these categories the same way? How would this affect the results?
Interpretation of results
Could anything other than the conclusion that the authors came to explain the results of their experiment? For example, a study finding a correlation between two variables and assuming that this means one variable causes the other ("being in a lot of stress causes short stature" or vise versa) could be missing a secret third thing which is in fact causing both of those things (e.g., poverty). Check to make sure that the authors considered other explanations for their findings and ruled them out (for example, by controlling for other variables such as socioeconomic status).
Are the results of the study generalisable to the population that the authors claim they're generalisable to? For example, the results may not be true for the entire population if only cisgender men between the ages of 30 and 40 were tested. Sampling biases can also affect generalisability—if I surveyed my college to try to find out the percentage of women in the total population, you might ask "but is your college sure to have the same percentage of women as the Earth does?"
Statistics
Are the results statistically significant, or are they within expected margins of error?
Many studies provide a p-value (a number between 0 and 1) for their results. In theory, a p-value represents the chance that the study's results could have been achieved by random chance. If you flip a coin ten times (so, your sample size is 10), it's not very odd to get heads six times and tails four times, and you wouldn't accept that as proof that the coin lands on heads more often than tails. The p-value for that result would be high (that is, there's a high chance that the coin appears unfair only because of random chance). On the other hand, if you flip a coin 100,000 times and it lands on heads 60,000 of those times, that's much better evidence that the coin is not a fair one. The p-value would be much lower. Typically, a p-value lower than 0.05 is considered statistically significant.
In practice, there's more than one way to calculate p-values, and so studies sometimes claim p-values that seem absurdly low. A low p-value is not proof of a claim in and of itself. Check to make sure that the authors of the paper also provide the raw data, and not just the p-values; this indicates a concern with other people being able to independently evaluate their results, rather than just trying to get The Best Numbers.
Citations
If the study cites something that seems foundational to their claims or interpretation, try tracing it back to the paper that was cited. Does the source actually claim what the authors of the first study said it did? Does the source provide proof or support for the claim, or does it seem flimsy, like a "common-sense" assumption?
Replication
Check the studies that cite the one you're currently looking at. Has anyone else tried to replicate the study? What were their results?
What if I really, really don't want to read scientific studies?
That's fine. Not everyone is concerned enough with specific scientific questions for regularly reading scientific papers to be reasonable for them. Just keep in mind that not everything in a scientific journal is necessarily true; that profit motives and personal and institutional bias impact results (e.g. when some studies revealed a lack of poor health outcomes for "obesity," and many scientists responded by calling it a "paradox" that needed to be "solved"); and that pop science and journalistic reporting on science are subject to distortions from the same sources.
Try finding commentators on scientific matters whose output you like, and evaluate their writing the same way you would evaluate any other critical writing.
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