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#there is no escape from the hot singles
guinevereslancelot · 1 year
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hot singles with empty blogs in your area won't stop following you! you can't block them fast enough! it's too late! they have taken the bridge and the second hall. we have barred the gates, but cannot hold them for long. the ground shakes... drums. drums in the deep. we cannot get out. a shadow moves in the dark... we cannot get out. they are coming.
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twcbelts · 10 months
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*      @rvyalfamily​      +      @twotonesoffun​        :       *     stares   directly  at   you    both     and    places    becky    at     cody    AND     seth’s    feet   *    YOU   TWO    READY    TO    CATAPULT     YOURSELVES     DOWN     AN    OT3     RABBIT    HOLE    WITH    ME     ,      MAYBE     ???   
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shoutlikethewolf · 2 years
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I stole Roland’s EWTRTW outfit and my mom went ‘ooooooo 80’s!’
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screampied · 2 months
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"Just the tip" trope w/ jjk men?👁️👁️
໒꒱ ₊˚ ‘ JUST THE TIP, GIRL ! ’﹒⺡
ᡣ𐭩 feat. sukuna, choso, nanami, geto, gojo
ᡣ𐭩 total wc. 3.2k
ᡣ𐭩 warnings. fem! reader, mdni, overstim, unprotected, true form sukuna, praise, dirty talk, quickies, dry humping, whiney men, choking, inplied breeding, hitting it raw.
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࣪. ᨳ GOJO SATORU. ࣪
“princess, you’re killing me,” gojo whimpers, feeling you casually move your hips against him. he’s staring at you, glossed lips just trembling. with two rough hands attached to your waist, he faintly strokes a thumb beneath the fabric that stuck beside your skin. “the tip. please.”
“wait a little,” you hum, making his back hit against the softly padded pillow. gojo grunts, the smooth part of your panties glissading back and forth on his length. his boxers was lazily pulled down, and he was all exposed…all warm. you felt a tiny veiny poke through, skimming against your entrance and you giggle before leaning up close to his ear. “oh sorry, did you say something? i can’t understand when you mumble, baby.”
gojo lightly throws his head back, grabbing a chunk of your ass before his right thigh bounces in utter anticipation. “f-fuck, don’t whisper in my ear like that,” and his voice was so shaky—he starts to pant frantically, just imagining being inside of you again. “you fuckin’ heard me.”
“remember who’s on top of you,” you tease, pressing a kiss near the corner of his mouth. for a split second, you heard gojo gulp, bright blue irises meeting your gaze. now that made him hard. shivers run all over his body the moment he feels you wrap a hand over his shaft, staring to realign yourself. “but fine, lie back…princess.”
soft puffs of breath escape past his mouth as he stares at you, a near smirk stretching against his pink lips. “bratty girl. quit talkin’ ‘n just ride me, how about that.”
“for all i care, you can just get yourself off,” you snicker. after you speak, gojo immediately shuts up the moment his leaky tip just barely hovers beneath your slick entrance.
with a clenched jaw, he presses his lips shut, a soft whine running past his lips to moment you start to jerk. “lot of mouth for how needy you are to be inside, ‘toru.”
“s-shut up,” he grumbles, and it’s cute. the attitude in his voice. the slight rasp to it, even the adorable flush that crept onto both sides of his temples.
gojo craved more, his mouth started to heavily salivate just imagining being inside of you. pumping you full of thick inches for the umpteenth time. “god, i just— i need you. know i said the tip but i just want you.”
you pepper a kiss near the corner of his mouth, and his first reaction was to kiss back ; he misses, making him cause himself to dreadfully whine.
lips forming a sweet desperate ‘o’ he leans back before gripping your hip tightly. you whisper, slowly sinking down into his length. “you can never make up your mind,” you purr, and the silk that ran against your voice.
“say one thing then you want another,” you continue, and he leans into your touch. he grows hard inside you, warmth swallowing you entirely.
gojo’s ears perked at the sound of your voice, the softness air that danced against his earlobe from your breathe.
he couldn’t help but pant, awaiting to have you sunk all the way down to the base. “you keep whinin' everytime i don’t give your lips any attention,” and for a brief moment, gojo’s eyes meet yours again, he feels so hot. you talking to him in such a sweet way like that only makes him feel ten times hotter. “you want a kiss?”
“i … i wanna kiss ‘n pump you full at the same time,” he says in a single breath. the hold you had on him was so heady.
gojo can’t stop himself from feeling all over your body, he felt giddy. in the best way possible. the way your cunt gradually went down on him. you made sure to take your time just to tease him a bit more. gojo’s pout doesn’t take long to make an appearance on him. “just…touch me… just want a taste of my girl while s-she’s on top.”
but the moment you were all the way down…
you felt his dick stretch you out for how many times again, you suppress a moan. leaning in, you squeeze gojo’s lips together playfully—bringing him into a sloppy kiss. his favorite kind of kisses.
the kind where your tongue would slide against his in such a messy way, he’d suck on yours before moaning right into your mouth. a single make out session with gojo was enough to make you pulse through your pulled to the side panties.
“i’m n-not gonna last with you grinding against me like that,” he whimpers, nearly having the wind being snatched out of him the moment you start up a rhythmic grind. “ride me jus’ like that,” he’d pant, and as you tantalizingly ghost a hand up his abs, you intentional make him shudder within your hold.
gojo pauses, grabbing your wrist. with a swift lick of his lips, he uses another hand to spank your ass, another to make your hand wrap around his neck. “choke me. choke me while y-you ride me, baby. please?”
. ᨳ NANAMI KENTO.
“i don’t want you to overwork yourself, sweetheart,” nanami says in a hushed tone. in the midst of you having your hands kneading through flour, you’re bent over the counter.
“have i,” he started, pausing to kiss near your nape. he was so close you felt his bulge prop up against you, “told you,” he halts again, a hand snaking around your waist, “how pretty you look in sundresses?”
“no,” you nearly slip off a moan, trying to avert your gaze back towards the bowl that had your hands covered in dough. his touch felt so good, he was gentle with you. nanami sneaks a kiss near the corner of your neck before you gasp. he pants your legs just a bit before kissing down your back. chastely. “the food, baby.”
nanami huffs, softly ghosting a thumb beside the exposed skin near your back. “you’re an amazing cook sweetheart, but ‘m hungry for something else,” and his words were so warm, smooth and all. the moment he murmurs tender in a soft voice against your ear. it was enough to make you immediately throb. “i want a little of your attention, just…a little.”
“okay,” you mutter, gnawing on the skin of your lip once he hurriedly moves your panties towards the side. a dripping soaked mess, nanami couldn’t help but stare for a bit. he was already insanely hard. his touch, it was so sensually smooth. with a single hand on your hip, you let off a sweetened mewl once you suddenly feel the throbbing tip of nanami’s dick glide against your folds. “k-kento, fuck.”
“missed bein' inside my wife,” he rasps, and he’s so pushed up against you it makes him dizzy. nanami eases his was inside, stretching you gingerly before you left off a sweet whimper. “you always know how to bend over for me like a good girl,” he purrs, bringing another amount of kisses towards the back part of your neck.
his breathing becomes unsteady and irregular, the thin fabric of your sundress, he has a firm grip on it. “was…was gonna give you the tip but i just wanna pump you full, sweetheart,” and you bite your lip, feeling the tips of his fingers brush against your ass. “give you.. a baby or two.”
nanami had you leaning forward, your hands were still in the bowl of ingredients before he hesitates. his voice cracks, pitching high for a concise moment. for the first time, you were hearing a needy nanami. “will you let me stuff you full? tell me in that pretty voice of yours.”
his words, it struck right into your heart and in the process—right between your legs. you felt sticky, a bit moist just from nanami grinding up against you. whenever it came to you, he just couldn’t contain himself.
“y-yes, please kento,” you’d whimper out, feeling two big hands of his caress your ass. he groans, so thick and big…yet so tender with the way he relaxed himself inside. such gummy walls hugging him so tight and close, it makes his jaw tense in a thirsty manner. “just fuck me, baby. i want you so bad.”
“wanted you more,” he whispers. a stroke of his, lightly shoving his hips into you—you gasp, nearly dropping the dishes. “s-sorry, honey. might wanna hold on. ‘s gonna get a bit messy,” and as he says that, a soft chortles flies past his lips. nanami teasingly runs the cold band of his watch down your back, watching you cutely squirm. “but i’ll clean you right up, i love when my sweetheart’s a little nasty.”
ᨳ SUKUNA RYŌMEN.
ironically enough, you’d be the one asking sukuna. he’d have the snuggest grin on his lips, buff arms crossed towards his chest whilst you straddled him.
“speak, girl,” and you suddenly grow shy, being propped up on the king's lap. his voice was a deep pitched low, fully stirring you up from the inside. sukuna cups your chin, making it hard for you to avoid his gaze before he murmurs. “tell me what you most desire, little concubine.”
“i want…” you start to speak before trailing off. his gaze, it was never not intimidating. for a split second, you could just about make out a mere small smirk lingering against his lips. sukuna brings a hand toward your waist, softly stroking your skin before you intake a sharp breath. “i want to feel you f-from the inside, ‘kuna. just the tip, please?”
“awwww,” he purrs, and he’s sat manspread. his grip he had on your hip, the way his fingers tenderly strokes beneath the thin straps of your panties. needless to say, it had you soaked.
“just can’t get enough, huh? was last night not enough to satisfy you?” and he takes pride in the pout that goes against your lips. “go ahead then. show me how needy you can be.”
his words had such smugness to it, you whimpered with such exasperation. eagerly springing his length out, not wanting to waste anymore time. sukuna stares at you, a low grunt slithers past his lips before you’re just hovering over his fat tip.
it was glistening with pre-cum, you let off a soft coo, making his tip swipe and smear all over your glistening folds. “s-sukuna, i want you. i want more.”
“greedy girl,” he snickers, and you suddenly felt small. being sat on his lap, his frame was so big. a lot bigger and broader than you. sukuna’s base was hefty, it jolted against his leg the moment you pushed yourself forward. he leans in as if he was about to kiss you. instead, he cups your grin again, multiple eyes staring right into the depths of your soul before whispering out a husky, “no one’s stopping you, princess.”
you moaned, his words was enough to get you dripping like a faucet between your legs—how embarrassing…
within moments, you sink down a bit further, and he’s huge. you feel his dick reach everywhere, such thickness it has your mouth salivating. “f-fuck, ‘kuna,” and his ears perk at the sound of your voice. the bitter sweetness to it. you were always so whiney, growing quiet every few seconds to hear the squelches your pussy made in retaliation. huffing and puffing, your eye-lids grew heavy, he was insanely packed. you felt him everywhere, and once you finally sat down against his base, you pull him into a hug. “so.. so big, stretching me.”
“…oh, don’t tell me that’s all,” sukuna grumbled cheekily, feeling your frame. he creates a fake pout, unreservedly mimicking the pout you had on your own face earlier. “you said just the tip but you can barely handle a few inches, concubine.”
he chuckles darkly, watching your cute face fall. you try to pivot your hips but not even seconds later. you end up making a mess on his lap, bundles of nerves sending you shockwaves. sukuna smiles, bringing a kiss towards the corner of your mouth. “hm. looks like someone needs more training,” and with a sly eyebrow raise, he brings you towards his chest, petting your hair. “if you can barely handle the tip, what makes you think you can handle both of my cocks, princess?”
ᨳ SUGURU GETŌ.
geto would be occupying himself with something, you’re doing nothing but of course—straddling his lap. not a single thought in your mind.
he doesn’t mind it, he enjoys feeling your body all propped up against his. he takes the opportunity to gently snake an arm around your waist, holding you close. although, at this particular point you’d be basically cockwarming him.
“just the tip, you say, suguru,” you utter with a mere hint of sass on your tone. he smiles to himself, your back facing his chest. he’s so warmish, his body heat nearly radiates off of you. skin to skin, it forever felt so intimate. despite the two of you doing nothing but just staying still. “you just wanna fuck me.”
“princess, i wanna hold you and fuck you. ‘s a difference,” and his voice was a bit hoarse—it was unintentionally attractive. he’s sneaking a plethora of kisses down your neck, giving your collarbone a soft suck before he reaches down between your legs. “spread these for me, don’t be shy.”
such thickness to him, it made you swallow, recollecting your thoughts…speaking of thoughts, as mentioned earlier…
your brain was empty. all you could focus on was how stretched you were getting. you were soaking his shaft down to its full supreme—and the last thing you expect is for geto to start rubbing mean circles against your clit. your body’s initial reaction was to lean back against him, and he chuckles, cooing out a, “ooooh.”
“s-suguruuu, fuck,” you’d sniffle, feeling the rotation of his palm creating a circulation motion. he was always so good with his hands. while being stuffed full, he had a free hand maneuvering all sorts of shapes over your folds. “feel so full, jus’ fuck me already.”
“say pretty please ‘n i’ll consider it, baby.”
“you heard what i sai—”
“girl, don’t try me.”
you moan, feeling him spank your cunt at your abrupt sudden brattiness. as your head slumps back against geto, he caresses your entrance before grabbing ahold of your hips. “let’s try this again, yeah?”
through clenched teeth and a cute pout, you huff out a, “…pretty please, suguru.”
he chuckles, and you shudder at the brief sensation of his throbbing mushroom tip just sensually dragging against your core. you gnaw on your lip, digging your nails into the thin fabric of his shorts.
he adores your body language, how adorable—your back arches, and you can barely hold still. all due to his touch, his words, and even the warmth of his breath colliding against your skin.
“good girl. ‘s more like it,” he whispers, and you couldn’t hold in your moans the moment he starts to make you bounce on his cock. you’re a mess, head still leaning back against his cheek, geto faintly wraps a hand around your throat. “should hear how silly you sound for me. whiney girl, fuck…”
and that’s when a hand of his roams up your body, feeling near your chest. he gives your perky nipples a soft pinch and you whine, feeling yourself continue to grow hotter and hotter between your legs. “want attention here too, baby?”
pathetically, you nod, still taking inch after inch inside of your gummy walls. “course ya do,” he teases, sneaking a kiss near the inside of your neck again. “but before we do that,” and you feel your hips come to a terse stop. you pout, feeling two hands of geto’s rapidly stop your hips, and he pulls you closer so he could speak.
with a hand gently caressing near your throat, another prying your legs open for him once more…edging you, he says, “we gotta work on those manners. not gonna let a brat cum on me, sorry princess.”
ᨳ CHOSO KAMO.
“baby,” he says in a sweet, drowsy murmur. choso has you laid flat down. while trailing and skimming a few fingers down your spine—he makes your tummy meekly press right into the cushioned mattress.
“i wanna.. i wanna try something,” and as he’s speaking, you grow quiet, enjoying the hot touch of his fingers. “remember when you asked to see how fast i could last with jus’ the tip in you?”
“mhmm.” you oblige, teasingly hum as a response. you could hear the near shakiness coming from his voice. albeit, you couldn’t particularly see his gaze, but you’d bet money he was just staring right at your body…specifically, from the waist down.
choso kisses his teeth, and you hear a bit of shuffling, “okay. ‘cause, you’re all laid out for me ‘n i just wanna…” he precipitously pauses, feeling you playfully wriggle your ass against him and he groans. “don’t…don’t do that, do tease me.”
“then go ahead, ‘m waiting for you, choso.” you’d titter, awaiting for him to finally come inside—it doesn’t take long.
momentarily, just seconds later…his fat leaky tip was swiftly rubbing against your hole. he starts to pant, long strands of hair running down his back from each particular moment.
he was heavily impatient.
his mind roamed, just a single look at your slick entrance and he’s licking his lips. all he saw was his imagination of loads of his own seed pouring out of your folds.
“nice ‘n warm for me,” he huffs out, clouds of his own breath departing from his lips. choso’s ears, the very tips of them burned with an scorching hot. “always take me so well.”
“f-fuckkk, choso,” you’d gasp, feeling your cunt swallow him easily. he was slow, a single hand attached to your waist.
a soft whimper leaves from choso’s mouth, simply from the way your ass was all pressed up against him. with just a single bit of a hover, he leans forward and he delays his weight just briefly on top of you. “told you, could barely handle just the tip.”
“just lie back ‘n let me give this body the—the attention it deserves,” he grunts, and his stuttering was quite cute.
choso lost all of his composure the moment he was just a few slim inches inside your cunt. squeezing him down so tightly, he watches as his own length gradually disappear between your folds.
“soaking me so good, should be a crime to be this w-wet,” and he nearly finds himself drooling, letting off a cute gasp once he hears that loud squelch. you gripped around him so good, it gave him whiplash … his head spun.
his breathing became erratic, and whenever choso grows out to be excited or far too buoyant than he needed to be, he ends up finishing early. and that’s exactly what he did. a flush goes over his face, as well as with a pout.
“s-shit,” he whimpers, barely even lasting as long as he anticipated. but he couldn’t help it. not with how tightly you maintained a heavy grip on him with your sweetened cunt.
his dick, it had length for sure, and poked against every orifice throughout your sweet cunt.
“wet girl,” he purrs, and starts to ramble to himself, observing his own thick ropes slowly spew outside of you. choso grows curious, using a thumb to swipe some excess of his cum off of your entrance, smearing it against your folds with a weary horny grin before plugging it back in. “my baby’s s-so sloppy.. should pull you close to me ‘n make you taste it.”
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cannotfly · 3 years
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tags; verses
*❈ ‣ you sigh before your window and gaze upon the town — ( v: canon. )  
*❈ ‣ had no way to guide you so i sang day in‚ day out. i thought i'd drop and still i sang. — ( v: foggs. ) 
*❈ ‣ and we’ll sail the world and see its wonders‚ from the pearls of spain to the rubies of tibet — ( v: post. ) 
*❈ ‣ isn’t that her dainty footstep on the stair? yes‚ isn’t that her shadow on the wall? — ( v: alternate. )  
*❈ ‣ how i would like to have wings – blue ones – how i would like to open them and raise — ( v: modern. )
*❈ ‣ if we lay a strong enough foundation‚ we’ll pass it on to you. we’ll give the world to you. — ( v: single mother. )
*❈ ‣ she's been living in her white-bread world as long as anyone with hot blood can — ( v. hawkins )  
*❈ ‣ don’t need a ring for my finger just need a steady hand to hold — ( v: main. feat. heygutlcss )    
*❈ ‣ chasing our heart’s desire but we go on pretending stories like ours have happy endings — ( v: affair. feat. heygutlcss ) 
*❈ ‣ i believed i had a choice til the music in her voice turned my whole world around — ( v: singer. feat. heygutlcss )    
*❈ ‣ i know you‚ you know me. one thing i can tell you is you got to be free — ( v: feat. honorhearted )
*❈ ‣ the world was my oyster but where was the pearl? who dreamed i could find it? — ( v: feat. iocaneimmune )  
*❈ ‣ if you love me tell me that you love me. if you don't just tell me that you do. — ( v: workhouse. feat. heygutlcss ) 
*❈ ‣ and even if the dream were not impossible‚ i know too well the ending would be sad — ( v: feat. gamblecity. )  
*❈ ‣ for somebody i thought was my savior‚ you sure make me do a whole lot of labor — ( v: feat. whenjet )  
*❈ ‣ i had this feeling as i was falling the sound across the bay was the sound of you calling — ( v: great gatsby. feat. playboths )
*❈ ‣ only we know what we’ve both been through‚ if i save you will you save me too? — ( v: main. feat. playboths ) 
*❈ ‣ this was an escape plan‚ carefully timed it‚ so let me go and dive into the waves below — ( v: panem. )
#*❈ ‣ you sigh before your window and gaze upon the town — ( v: canon. )#*❈ ‣ had no way to guide you so i sang day in‚ day out. i thought i'd drop and still i sang. — ( v: foggs. )#*❈ ‣ and we’ll sail the world and see its wonders‚ from the pearls of spain to the rubies of tibet — ( v: post. )#*❈ ‣ isn’t that her dainty footstep on the stair? yes‚ isn’t that her shadow on the wall? — ( v: alternate. )#*❈ ‣ how i would like to have wings – blue ones – how i would like to open them and raise — ( v: modern. )#*❈ ‣ if we lay a strong enough foundation‚ we’ll pass it on to you. we’ll give the world to you. — ( v: single mother. )#*❈ ‣ she's been living in her white-bread world as long as anyone with hot blood can — ( v: hawkins. )#*❈ ‣ don’t need a ring for my finger just need a steady hand to hold — ( v: main. feat. heygutlcss )#*❈ ‣ i know you‚ you know me. one thing i can tell you is you got to be free — ( v: feat. honorhearted )#*❈ ‣ the world was my oyster but where was the pearl? who dreamed i could find it? — ( v: feat. iocaneimmune )#*❈ ‣ yesterday love was such an easy game to play; now i need a place to hide away — ( v: feat. soldwrecked )#*❈ ‣ only we know what we’ve both been through‚ if i save you will you save me too? — ( v: great gatsby. feat. soldwrecked )#*❈ ‣ if you love me tell me that you love me. if you don't just tell me that you do. — ( v: workhouse. feat. heygutlcss )#*❈ ‣ and even if the dream were not impossible‚ i know too well the ending would be sad — ( v: feat. gamblecity. )#*❈ ‣ for somebody i thought was my savior‚ you sure make me do a whole lot of labor — ( v: feat. whenjet )#*❈ ‣ i feel like putting my arms around my knees and squeezing tight as possible and flying away — ( v: great comet. )#*❈ ‣ i had this feeling as i was falling the sound across the bay was the sound of you calling — ( v: great gatsby. feat. playboths )#*❈ ‣ this was an escape plan‚ carefully timed it‚ so let me go and dive into the waves below — ( v: panem. )
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suiana · 6 months
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✎ yandere! mean boy . . .
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✎ yandere! mean boy who's one of the most popular guys in the entire university. he's hot, smart, rich... he was perfect! ...but of course, he had a bad side to him as well. a side that you knew too well but others didn't. have i mentioned that he's only mean to you?
✎ yandere! mean boy who makes your university life as hard as he can. from minor inconveniences like bumping into you, to trying to ruin your reputation by gossiping about you to his friends. you're starting to wonder if he likes you? i mean, why else would he do this? you're not even in the same major! spoiler alert, he does like you. wow, who knew 🤯 ps, his friends are annoyed whenever he brings you up because once he starts talking about you he can't stop 💀
✎ yandere! mean boy who is very obviously in love with you. yeah, sure he might try to ruin your life but... he also spoils you! i mean, don't you see those gifts he left in your room? the new outfits in your closet? or the way your grades suddenly rose? that's all him! so... you should fall for him too now, right? boy is delusional 🔥🔥
✎ yandere! mean boy who's completely obsessed with you. unfortunately, poor fella doesn't know how to process his feelings and only shows disdain to you openly. if only you knew of the way his heart quickens every time you glance at him, or the way he jerks off to you to the numerous pictures he secretly took which are plastered on the walls of his mansion... he's such an idiot! when all he wants to do is worship you, he insults you instead :( not to worry... he'll be openly worshipping you soon enough. soon...
"watch your step."
he hisses as he glares at you. you only roll your eyes, continuing on your way to your lecture hall as you text your friend. seriously, this day was already bad and he just had to be here to worsen it? what luck you had.
you quicken your pace, trying to get to your location faster which only resulted in the university's mean boy (correction, he's only mean to you, so he's a secret mean boy) scowling and stomping right over to you.
"i said, watch your step!"
he yells out, grabbing your shoulder roughly as he turns around to face you. his hands shake slightly, still gripping onto your shoulder as his cheeks brun red. was it from anger or embarrassment? you'd never know. all he ever shows you is his disdain after all.
you stare at him with an irritated expression, eyeing him up and down before apologizing half-heartedly.
"sorry."
you then try shrugging his hand off you, clearly more annoyed than worried as the male continues to stare at you with an unreadable expression. cheeks flushed as he roughly takes his hand away before stomping off like an angry child. you merely shake your head at his actions. what a drama king he was.
jeez, he really is weird. always targeting you, and you only... what did you even do to get on his nerves? all you wanted was a peaceful university life! with good grades and a nice set of friends, and maybe even a lover if you were lucky! but no, he just had to have it out for you every. single. day.
and yet, he always seems to have a red flush on his cheeks whenever he does so. and the multiple times you've passed his friend group he always seems to be talking about you. is he bipolar? does he secretly like you? is he a tsundere?
you grumble slightly as you quickly rush off to your lecture. damn, he made you late. what an annoying guy.
meanwhile, your secret mean boy was struggling to contain his screams as he hid behind a wall after stomping off. with laboured breaths, flushed cheeks and hearts for pupils, he giggled like a patient from the mental hospital.
ah..! you touched him! touched him! if he imagines hard enough, he can pretend you're gently carressing him! that you're looking at him just like he looks at you!
he shakily stares at the hand you swatted away, smile errily wide as soft giggles escape him. ah, you're so cute when you look at him like that... when you look at him in irritation... would you look like that when he exposes the fact that he loves you? or when you're married and he accidentally burns his food? would you push him away and quickly cook up another meal?
he giggles like a high school girl in love, breathing growing increasingly erratic as he places both his hands over his chest.
ah...
he wants to touch you again.
he wants to see more of your expressions.
he wants you.
and he will have you.
whether you like it or not.
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sp0o0kylights · 2 months
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"Valentines Day is a capitalistic scam made to sell chocolate and flowers!" Eddie Munson bellowed, leaping to the top of a cafeteria table not even ten minutes into lunch. 
"Do you think he was born like this, or just dropped on his head as a baby?" Heather asked, rolling her eyes as the super senior began waving his arms around, getting way too into  his annual “anti-valentines day” rant. 
Steve, who'd tuned out the dramatics in favor of trying to figure out how he could ditch school, only heard her because she’d begun running her foot up his leg.
Directly in front of Patrick.
As if half the school didn’t know he planned on asking her out after school. 
Long over being a part of these kinds of games, Steve kicked out, forcing Heather’s leg off his. 
He did it harder than he intended and immediately winced, as  if he hadn’t meant to do it at all. Aimed a sad little look at her, softening his eyes in the way he knew ladies loved while murmuring a quiet "sorry.” 
A pudding cup was offered as an additional apology--which Heather, thankfully, accepted. 
Crisis averted, Steve used the movement of handing the cup over to get his legs well out of Heather's range. He had other things to think about today, and getting drawn into whatever drama Heather was trying to brew wasn’t on the list. 
Particularly given the basketball team as a unit had started snubbing him out. 
"Newsflash ladies! Your man isn't taking you to some shitty restaurant because he loves you, he's doing it because he hopes you'll give it to him in your car!" Munson continued, voice growing impossibly louder. 
A crude gesture followed, involving hip thrusts and hand jabs.
 Several of the cheerleaders shot him disgusted looks as he did it. 
"Definitely dropped on his head." Carol said, glaring at Munson as his little group of freaks and geeks cheered him. "More than once." 
Steve hummed an agreement, more on automatic than from actually listening. He knew how to look like he was paying attention, even if his head was deep in possible escape plans. 
If he dipped at the last minute to the bathroom on the way to fifth period, Tommy wouldn't have time to stop him and he could make a break for his car…
That just left making up a plausible enough excuse as to why thee Steve Harrington, whose single status was the current hot topic of the school, left school early on Valentines Day. 
("Candy, sex, the overwhelming affection of all the ladies." Tommy drawled out that morning, practically preening. "Valentine's Day is the best holiday man. Just look at all this!"  
He waved a hand at his locker, which was absolutely covered in paper hearts. 
"The rally squad put hearts on the lockers of everyone on the basketball team, Tommy." Carol argued, rolling her eyes. "Steve’s is practically buried in them.”
Tommy opened his mouth to respond, no doubt with something else teasing and rude, but Carol’s elbow caught him in the gut first. 
“If you keep acting like this you're not getting any sex." She warned. 
"Aww baby, don't be like that. You know you're the only one for me." Tommy teased, with a wink that prompted Carol to smack him on the shoulder.
Laughing, he added: "Besides we can't fight or we'll miss our favorite game. Which poor gal thinks this year is the year Steve will take her out on a date!"
Carol allowed Tommy to put an arm over her shoulder, the two of them turning knowing grins on their friend as a singular unit. 
Even if Steve hadn’t felt like their friend in a hot minute. 
Not in the way he used to. 
"I do love watching them stutter through their little confessions.” Carol admitted, like this wasn’t something they’d loved doing since middle school. “I wonder if anyone will ever top Cindy Komer." 
Steve almost wasn't fast enough to cover his wince--that particular incident had been painful for him and Cindy. 
Steve still had no idea what he'd said to make the then-freshman cry. 
He thought he'd been nice about turning her down, but judging by Carol constantly quoting what he'd said, Steve had a feeling he'd accidentally been an asshole again.
Not that anyone ever thought it was accidental. 
“Steve? Hel~lo? Are you listening?” Carol said, snapping to get his attention and God did Steve hate that.
Never realized just how much until Nancy but after she’d pointed out that Carol treated him and Tommy both like her dogs, well. 
It was hard not to notice--and be a bit resentful. 
“God you keep doing this, you’re turning into such a space case.” Carol continued, the edge back in her voice. The same one she’d been using for a while, like Steve was on her last nerve. “Please tell me you’re not still mooning over Nancy fucking Wheeler.” 
“No.” He snapped, only to know instantly that was the wrong move, and try to fix it before Carol blew up. “No--I’ve just already had to fend someone off today. Like first thing--I was barely out of my car.”
There, that should keep Carol and Tommy both off his back for being “angry” and it wasn’t even a lie. He really had been asked out earlier, though the girl had been gracious about his rejection.  
Of course, this kind of instant redirection came with a price--and in this case, it was being absolutely hounded for more information. 
“Oh shit who!? Was it that Buckley girl?” Carol perked up immediately, like a hunting dog scenting prey. “I swear she stares holes in your head, she’s so weird…” )  
"This isn't about romance! It's about showing who has the most cash, gets the most sex! It's a pathetic social ritual you're all falling for!” Munson yelled, jolting Steve back into the present.  “I bet none of you even enjoy it!” 
"Tell that to all the girls Steve’s dated!” One of the younger basketball guys hollered, prompting a wave of laughter from the rest of the cafeteria. “They seem to enjoy it plenty!”
Steve couldn’t see who had said it, and should have felt the normal wave of smug warmth that the team had his back.  
Except his team had already proven they didn’t. 
Were in fact, siding more and more with Hargrove, just as Tommy was. 
They were rapidly approaching a watershed moment. Steve could feel it, the same way he’d always been able to tell when a crowd was about to turn.
He was losing, but was still on top of Hawkins social spaces enough, had caught it early enough, that he could turn everyone’s favor--if he wanted. 
Emphasis on ‘if.’ 
Munson spun to face his table, hair whipping to smack him in the face. The guy had clearly been trying to grow it out, but right now he looked like one of those poodles Carol's mom loved so much. 
So said Carol, anyway. 
"You sure about that?" Munson challenged, a crazed grin breaking across his face. "Rumor has it King Steve lost his groove ever since Wheeler dumped him!" 
Steve grimaced, though he was secretly thankful Munson went with "dumped" instead of "cheated on" (or any of the other vile words Billy had flung around, spreading across the school in the sick, crawling way rumors moved. 
Hargrove had been positively brutal about the whole Jonathan and Nancy thing, and the only reason he wasn't here now to spin this whole situation against Steve was because the guy always vanished at lunch.)
Tommy's face morphed into an affronted snarl, hands slapping down on the table. He turned expectantly to Steve, waiting for "The King" to get up and "handle" Munson.
Like Steve even cared about this dumb high school shit anymore. 
It took him a moment to realize Steve wasn’t planning on doing anything. Was in fact, going to remain perfectly quiet, other than an eyeroll and half-assed middle finger in Munson’s direction. 
Tommy let out a disgusted scoff in his direction and then decided to handle things himself. 
(Like that had ever been a good idea.)
“Shut up, Freak. The only game you have is in the prison showers.” He snapped, half rising from the table. “Isn’t that why you keep your hair long? So all the boys will actually fuck you?!” 
Whistles and yells lit the air, though Steve didn’t miss how the girls at the table looked taken aback at the sheer vitriol in Tommy’s voice. 
Even Carol looked startled, eyes sliding to meet Steve’s as if to confirm she hadn’t just imagined it. 
The three of them had always been good at this kind of mindless high school banter, but this over the top, crude shit? 
It wasn’t Tommy’s style.
It was Hargrove’s.
(That was its own growing issue. 
The way Tommy was gravitating towards Billy. 
How Carol kept expecting Steve to act like he used to. 
That she blamed his “outbursts” on Nancy, snidely mentioning that Steve had better have learned his lesson about “changing his personality for pussy.” 
Even now Steve knew they were only defending him because Munson was the one saying it.) 
“I didn’t realize Harrington still had his attack dog!” 
Munson put a hand against his heart as though injured, staggering dramatically backwards. 
“I thought you were too busy putting your tongue up Hargrove’s ass to bark at people!” 
Tommy immediately fired back, letting loose an uninspired string of curse words and something about Eddie being queer again. Steve didn’t hear the specifics--didn’t care to hear it, even as things started to spiral out of control. 
All he wanted to do was go home. 
Ideally before Billy got back from lunch and decided to make a spectacle himself, because Steve could feel that coming just as he could everything else. 
He was running out of time to come up with an excuse to get out of here without making a production out of it, and Munson wasn’t someone he wanted to piss off today, given he’d half hoped to buy weed off the guy before he ditched.
…Which was looking more and more unlikely given Tommy had just screeched some insult that had put Munson’s sights back on Steve. 
“You sure? Cause Harrington looks like he’s just gonna sit there and take it, just like he takes everything Hargrove and Wheeler and anyone else throws at him.”
He leered, leaning forward as if to see into Steve’s very soul. 
“I don’t know if anyone else has noticed, but our beloved King here hasn’t exactly been defending his crown. If anything, he’s abandoned it.” 
The world stopped. 
This was the first time someone actually called him out on the fact that he often let whatever crap Billy spewed go. That Nancy and him had a few awkward encounters publicly, with at least one of them starting a rumor that she’d told Steve to fuck off. 
(She hadn’t of course, but Carol had stopped running damage control, and Steve was feeling the effects of her ire.) 
Silence echoed, and Steve realized with a dawning sort of horror, that Munson was waiting for a response from him. 
Just as the entire cafeteria was. 
The catalyst was here, brought on early by one Edward Munson. 
With a startling amount of clarity, Steve realized he was done. 
With his so called friends, with  the girls who’d tried corning him all morning, with Hargrove and just--everything. 
He was over it. 
If Billy wanted the crown so bad he could fucking have it. 
(If Tommy wanted to pretend he was tougher than he was by mimicking the dick, then he could have that too.) 
“This is stupid.” Steve announced, dropping the masks he so carefully wore. The ones he kept having to fix, because the Upside Down and its related demons (human and non) kept taking chunks out of it. 
He stood, feeling the weight of the room press down on him as he faced them all down. 
“Yeah--!” Tommy started to pile on, seeming to think Steve was about to unleash hell, and got the surprise of a lifetime when Steve turned and jammed a finger in his face.
“Shut up.” He snapped. 
Knew instantly he only got away with it by the fact that he’d caught everyone off guard.  
King Steve did a lot of things, but he rarely blew up. 
“This is stupid.” He reiterated, voice booming across the lunch room, “ You wanna fight? Fine, but leave me out of it.”  
“The King doesn’t want to play? Why I never thought we’d see the day!” Munson clucked his tongue, and without missing a beat Steve turned to him. 
 “For someone who is always screaming about nonconformity, you sure are happy to attack anyone who doesn’t do what you want.”
Steve’s voice was loud, but he wasn’t screaming. Wasn’t yelling or throwing his arms around.
He didn’t need to. Had never needed to. 
“I heard you going off on that guy whose lunch you're standing on yesterday, because he wanted to watch the Colts play.” Steve continued, voice cold. “Half of your friends are terrified of you, because you’ll scream at them just like you accuse us of doing--and let’s be real here, Munson, you do it more.”
In a dramatic move that absolutely, 100% came from Dustin and his theatrics, Steve shrugged his letterman jacket off and bunched it into a ball. 
“You might as well crown yourself King, because you’re the exact same as the rest of us. Here--you can start with this.”  
Cocking back an arm, Steve let the jacket fly. Watched with everyone else as it  landed neatly right at Eddie’s feet. 
Shell shocked, Munson’s eyes drifted from Steve down to the letterman jacket and back. They were massive, those stupid eyes of his, but at least it meant Steve could see the realization wash over the guy in real time. 
Steve should have felt smug about it. His past self would have.
Presently? 
He just felt tired. 
“You’re welcome to jam it up your ass.” He finished, before giving his own sarcastic half bow to the room.  
The cafeteria was dead silent. Not a fork was scraped, or a loud piece of chip chewed. All eyes were on Steve, some waiting to see if Eddie would let him have the last word, others just  shocked to see Steve lose his shit in front of them. 
Idiot he was, he tried to rally anyway. 
Even Tommy, who’d partly stood up, hands pressed against the lunch table looked shocked.
“What the fuck Steve!?” He sputtered, and it wasn’t long before half the basketball team was muttering similar remarks. 
They were ignored. 
Whispers ripped across the room when Steve turned on his heel, striding towards the exit and making it clear things were over, but Tommy didn’t give up. 
“Fuck you Harrington!” He hurled at his back, Carol now standing and placing a restraining hand on his arm.  “You’re not fucking better than any of us!” 
Steve didn’t even look back. 
"That's my point Tommy." Steve said, loud enough to be heard. "No one is better than anyone else. You lot are all just buying into your own bullshit.” 
Then he was slamming through the doors, and out into the sunlight. 
xXx
He didn’t want to go home.
Not anymore, which was ironic in a way that made Steve’s face screw up in a grimace.  
Here he’d been dying to go to his stupid house all day, and now, after losing his shit and undoubtedly, the last of his social standing, he just didn’t feel like being by himself.
All alone, in a house too big for him, full of nothing but dark corners and a phone that never rang. 
So instead, he wandered, reminiscing on how Valentine's Day used to be his favorite day of the year. 
Steve loved the gesture of it all--the romance, the wooing. The butterflies floating in one's stomach, mixing with fear of rejection and a burning kind of hope towards starting something new. 
Of course, Steve also had always had a girl in mind, when he celebrated. Now, after Nancy…
He did not.
It felt weird to go to Skull Rock--the place he himself had made into Hawkins hottest makeout spots. Likewise all the local restaurants were off limits--too many adults knew how much he loved the holiday. 
Steve didn’t want to face that. The expectations, the knowing winks that would slide into uncomfortable frowns. Any possible advice given wouldn’t be appreciated, and the last thing Steve wanted was to get the “everyone has an off season, son” speech. 
So he’d stayed away from his usual haunts. Explored some storefronts instead, the Beamer parked in front of Family Video as he wandered. 
Had an entirely too peaceful two hours, which of course, meant he had to bump into someone.
At least, Steve thought dully, whole body tensing in preparation, it was Munson. 
Not Hargrove, or Tommy, or hell--the children, demanding he help them fight some other fucked up creature the government had accidentally summoned. 
“Hey Harrington.” Munson said, and it took a moment for Steve to realize the guy was embarrassed. “I uh, I need to talk to you.” 
Steve just stared at him.
“If you couldn’t tell from earlier,” He warned, “I’m a little done talking for today.” 
Or any day, for the foreseeable future. 
“Yeah no--I, I got that.  I--okay.” Eddie stopped rocking on his heels, before giving his entire body a shake, like the guys sometimes did while prepping for a game. “Hear me out, and then you can deck me or leave or whatever makes you feel better.” 
“I’m not going to deck you.” Steve said, exasperated and frazzled and not wanting to do this whole song and dance a second time. 
Not that it mattered, because Munson had already launched right into whatever it was he needed to say. 
“There’s this book right? My Uncle got it for me. It’s a fantasy book all about this big battle and there’s these wizards in it, and--” He stopped himself, shaking out his hands.
Like he realized he was rambling and needed the movement to get himself back on track. 
“I always--I guess I saw myself as a Gandalf kinda guy? Like I was this shepherd herding these lost sheep. A person who intimately knew all the dark forces of the world and could be a shield for them. Do not pass and all that.” 
He chuckled, but it was weak, and he killed it almost immediately. 
“...Okay?” Steve said, knowing he was supposed to say something here, even if he had no idea what. 
Maybe something about how Gandalf the Grey wasn’t exactly a shepard given he’d led the hobbits straight into Mordor, but saying that meant admitting Steve knew what Lord of the Rings was, which wasn’t a conversation he felt like getting into. 
Particularly not because he’d only read the damn things after losing a bet to Dustin and Mike both. 
Munson nodded, as if acknowledgement was all he needed. 
 “I thought that’s what I was doing. I wasn’t and I didn’t realize I wasn’t until you pointed it out. You shouldn’t have had to point it out. You shouldn’t have had to say any of what you did.” He rushed to add, oddly sincere. 
"Is this…" Steve might be confused but catching on, an uptick at the corners of his mouth as the tiniest spark of amusement leaked through. "an apology? Are you trying to apologize right now?"
Eddie groaned, flinging his head back. "No!” 
Then immediately; 
“Actually yes, but--”  
Which caught Steve off guard enough that he laughed, and had to hide it with a cough. 
“I am sorry, man. I shouldn’t have said that shit about you, especially not about you and Wheeler. It's more than that though.” Munson swallowed, before squaring his shoulders. “It’s that you were right." 
“I was right?” Steve repeated dumbly, because fuck, he couldn’t believe it either. 
Not that Munson heard him. Eddie always had been hard to stop once he started, and Steve had been in enough classes with the guy to know the train had left the station. 
"I did yell at Jeff because he wanted to watch that stupid football game.” He began, and Steve got a front row seat to watch as one Eddie Munson word vomited his way through a myriad of emotions. 
“I fuckin’ lost it on Grant because he missed band practice to drive his sister to some thing. Gareth looked like I was going to hit him when I asked if I had really been that bad--same exact look he gave Hagan and those other assholes that cornered him in the bathroom two weeks ago!” 
“Tommy did what?” 
Steve was promptly ignored. 
(Or more likely, Eddie simply didn’t hear him, too lost in his own voice to realize Steve had said something.) 
There were a lot of mentions of the Gandalf guy. Where Eddie thought he’d gone wrong, and even something about a glowing eye thing that had Steve a little concerned until he realized Munson was talking about Sauron (and also made Steve realize that he’d been pronouncing Sauron in his head wrong, oops.) 
“I called up this friend of mine who graduated. She’s always been no nonsense, so I asked her for her advice.” Munson said, finally seeming to slow down a little. “She told me I might as well eat my own doctrine because I sure wasn’t living by it, and that if I wanted to fix it then I should start by apologizing. To everyone but--to you, first.” 
Eddie took a step back, winging out his hands as if to present himself. 
“So here I am. Apologizing.” 
A pause wherein neither of them did a thing, which caused him to awkwardly add; “To uh, you. Harrington.” 
“Yeah I got that.” Steve said, because what else was he supposed to do here? “Good for you? I guess?”
“Most people either forgive a guy or tell him to fuck off.”  Munson pouted, and mimicked like he was kicking at a rock. 
It made Steve want to laugh again, though he shoved the urge down. 
“Someone once told me,” He said instead, speaking slowly to make damn sure he didn’t let slip this piece of advice came from a middle schooler. “that apologies without actions don’t really mean anything. They’re a start--they let people know you’re aware you screwed up, but no one’s going to trust you if you don’t follow through. So I can forgive you, but I think you’re better off doing this with one of your friends.” 
Someone who would hug it out, or at least tell Eddie how he could be better, at least. 
Rather than argue, Munson just titled his head back, eyes to the sky. Like he was really thinking on the words, before giving a sort of accepting sounding noise.  
“Trying too.” Steve admitted with a sigh. 
“That’s what you’ve been doing, isn’t it?” He asked, head coming back down so he could stare at Steve.
“The thing in the cafeteria was a good start.” 
“Yeah?” 
Eddie grinned. 
“Yeah. Don’t think Hagan’s gonna see it the same way though.” 
“We were falling out anyway.” Steve admitted, and hated how easy it was to say.
That they really were just going through the motions of friendship. Had been, ever since Jonathan had punched Steve in the face. 
“Think you lost more than just him as a friend, to be honest.”  
“Pro tip about the actions thing, Munson?” Steve said with a snort, once again unsure of where this conversation was going, “Nice people don’t typically point out when someone’s turned into a social pariah.” 
“No, I get that. Say,” Eddie’s grin had grown, which Steve would have taken poorly except he invaded Steve’s space with a goofy little hop. “I think you might be in need of some new ones!” 
“New…friends?” Steve hesitated, very unsure of what was happening. 
Munson promptly stuck his hand out. “Yup! So--hello, my name is Eddie Munson, and I am here to apply for the position as your friend!” 
Steve snorted, but the harshness of it was taken away by the grin on his face. 
He took Eddie’s hand, noting how doing so made the older teen’s smile widen. 
“Nice to meet you Eddie, I’m Steve.” 
Excited, Eddie waived their arms up and down, with far more enthusiasm than the gesture required. 
“How about we cement our new friendship by renting a truly terrible horror movie and drowning our woes with my other good friend, Mary Jane?” 
Then he waggled his eyebrows, like that was something scandalous. 
“Tempting me along with weed, huh?” Steve mused back, sticking his hands in his pockets once Eddie let him go. “Guess you’re a little like Gandalf the Gray after all. Just don’t send me on any missions.” 
“Steve Harrington.” Eddie gaped, pure delight spreading across his face. “Have you read Lord of the Rings!?” 
He got a shrug and a sly; “Maybe.” in response. 
It was worth the barrage of questions, even if the rapid fire pace of them nearly gave Steve a headache.
(Just as it was worth it several months later, when Steve was comfortable enough to instigate wrestling matches with Eddie over the dumbest of things. 
One particularly semi-drunk tussle over the remote led to an interesting discovery when Eddie popped a boner, and then frantically tried to escape when it brushed against Steve’s leg. 
 Instead of panicking--or letting Eddie bolt in his panic, Steve just dropped his whole weight down, effectively pinning the slimmer man to the floor. 
“Steve.”
Eddie said it so quietly he almost didn’t hear it, the word filled with desperation.
The kind of tone someone whispered a prayer in, a sort of pleading that Eddie did better with his eyes than his voice. Or would have, given his own were firmly scrunched closed the second he realized he’d been caught out. 
Except--
“Not right now I’m thinking.”  Steve told him absently. 
Which he was. Speed thinking even, if that was a thing. 
Because if two plus two equaled four (which it did) then feeling the exact same, fluttering excitement about Eddie’s boner as Steve had Nancy’s breasts, equaled…
“The fuck? Steve--”
Steve shushed him. 
That pulled a frustrated, embarrassed groan from Eddie that went directly to Steve’s own dick, not that it needed much help waking up. 
“I think I’m having one of those crisis’s Robin is always accusing the basketball team of having.” Steve informed Eddie dutifully, the dots done connecting.
Eddie, still refusing to open his eyes, snorted. 
“Whatever man. Can you at least be decent and hurry up with the beating? This is embarrassing enough.” 
“I’m not going to beat you up.” Steve said, thankful that his brain managed not to add some shitty comment about the entire town being awash in rumors of Eddie’s sexuality. That he’d confirmed it here wasn’t exactly a surprise. 
“I’m going to try something. If you don’t like it, let me know.” Streve added, before screwing up his courage and leaning down.
That of course, got Eddie to open his eyes.
“Wha--” He managed, before Steve’s lips were on his. 
For one single, blissful moment, Eddie Munson’s mouth was too busy to talk. 
“Yeah?” Eddie said, voice wrecked, and oh, Steve liked that. 
“Huh.” Steve muttered, when they broke for air. “Well that’s new.”
Liked the way Eddie looked at him more, hesitant, but with heat in his gaze. 
Steve had always been good about knowing what to do with heat. 
He leaned back down, pecking lightly at Eddie’s lips, and was delighted to find Eddie not only let him, but kissed back. 
“Not bad, Munson, but I think I could give you a few pointers.” Steve muttered, nose ghosting alongside Eddie’s. “Let me show you…” 
One boyfriend, several weeks, and another interdimensional monster later, Steve found himself socked in the arm by none other than his coworker, Robin Buckley. 
In her defense, she’d confessed her love for Tammy Thompson, still somewhat drugged on the Starcourt bathroom floor, only for Steve to tease her that at least his boyfriend could actually sing. 
“God you and Eddie Munson.” She muttered after, smile on her face. “How did that happen?” 
Steve knocked his shoe into hers, returning the grin unabashedly. 
“So remember last Valentines Day?” Steve started, all too eager to finally tell someone who understood about the best thing to ever happen to him. 
Robin of course, would soon also be ranked in that same chart, but Eddie didn’t need to know that. ) 
3K notes · View notes
yueebby · 7 months
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hii omg I love ur fics sooo much they're really helping me recover from.. gege. I was wondering if I could request gojo x drunk!reader. like maybe they come back from partying with geto and shoko and are just completely tipsy. but they're reallyyyyy affectionate and flirty and gojo literally goes insane like his heart can't take it . bonus points if reader won't stop peppering him in kisses.
"you're sooooo hot.. and- and strong! ohmigosh are you single?" AND MANS IS JUST BRIGHT RED.
preferably fem-reader thanks ^__^ <333
drunk in love — gojo satoru
contents. fluff, established relationship, alcohol (drunk!reader), gojo being gojo, youre drunk and in love but gojo loves you more
notes. anon your request was so cute i just had to write it TT i kind of got carried away from the original prompt.. but enjoy this as a form of therapy from that one eyed cat!! ps i hate drinking so idek if this is accurate :>
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the night had been long, and shoko is starting to regret letting you consume what felt like half your body weight in drinks during your night out in roppongi. impatiently, she checked her phone, hoping for a response from gojo to her text message. huffing in frustration, she turned to geto, “i thought you called him. where is that idio–”
"shoko, who is that?" in your drunken stupor, you shamelessly ogled the stranger approaching the entrance of the bar. shoko facepalmed as she watched your intoxicated heart eyes for the snow-haired man.
"she's all yours now."
gojo chuckled when he saw your inebriated state, "what did they do to you?" he had just returned from a tiring mission, but seeing you was enough to lighten the weight on his shoulders.
you shifted your gaze between shoko and the handsome stranger, causing mental whiplash. a mumbled apology escaped your lips before you left shoko's side to get a closer look at the man.
amusement danced in satoru's eyes as he observed you stumbling toward him. as the loving boyfriend he was, satoru wrapped a strong arm around your waist to prevent you from tripping.
you placed a hand on his chest to steady yourself, and couldn't help but notice the firmness of his physique. "so strong," you hiccuped, running your finger down his chest, "and handsome... are you single?" you blinked up at him with wide, inquisitive eyes.
suguru, watching from the sidelines, struggled to stifle his laughter as he observed his best friend's face growing increasingly red. the way you were looking up at him was driving him crazy. satoru cleared his throat and shook his head, trying to regain his composure though it was hard with the way his heart was beating so erratically.
"do you not remember me, sweetheart? your strong and handsome boyfriend?" satoru's glossy lips turned down in an exaggerated pout, and you gasped, confused on how you'd forgotten a face so beautiful. it was dangerous, how tempting the man in front of you looked.
giving in to your impulsive thoughts, you grabbed his face with one hand, squishing his cheeks together. satoru’s eyes widened as he noticed your intent on his puckered lips.
with an impish grin, you planted a series of quick kisses on his cheeks, then moved to his lips.“how,” kiss. “could i,” another kiss, “forget,” kiss, “such,” kiss, “a handsome face?”.
suguru and shoko watched in mild horror, as you showered gojo with affection. a dopey grin spread across his flushed face as he allowed you to have your way with him. he's afraid he might implode from the how adorable you were.
“i’m the most handsome man in the world, yeah?” he asks you with a grin, encouraging you to answer as he pulls you closer by the waist. satoru couldn't fathom what he had done to deserve this, but he would gladly repeat it tenfold if he could relive this moment once more.
you nod happily. “the most!”
“well aren’t you lucky to have me as your boyfriend.” satoru flashes his cerulean eyes at you above those dark sunglasses of his. just when you think he can’t get any hotter, he proves you wrong.
your friends' silent presence is suddenly shattered by laughter, jolting you back into the awareness of their company. satoru’s grin dissipates into a frown when he sees that your attention is taken off of him.
"'[name] is lucky to date him,' so he says," shoko giggles. "suguru, do you remember that one time satoru pretended to be a waiter at the restaurant [name] was on a date?" shoko not-so-secretly says to geto. "he got all drunk and then started rhapsodizing about how he was going to marry her."
satoru gasps at the memory of his awkward pining days. his attention quickly diverted back to you, anticipating your reaction.
suguru hums, “ah, or that one time he got distracted and nearly got us killed on a mission all because [name] sent a selfie.”
you pull away from satoru’s hold and he swears he feels all the warmth leaving his soul. his hands instinctively reach out to you, but you’re one step ahead, already making your way to the evil pair in front of him.
“really?” you ask the two, eyes shining eagerly.
shoko nods, an evil grin growing on her face, “you seriously never noticed that stupid dazed look he has when he sees you? even yaga has noticed it.”
gojo’s jaw drops at the sound of his best friends’ attempt to embarrass him. in his defense, he was just a man in love! satoru's infamous pout returns, and he’s trying to pull you back into his embrace and away from those traitors. to his dismay, you ignore him. did you even know that he was dying by the second without your affection?
“tell me more!” you gush, entranced with the idea that your boyfriend was just a lovesick puppy.
“is that really necessary?” satoru mumbles under his breath, though the telltale reddening of his ears betrays his indifferent facade.
“toru i didn’t know that you were obsessed with me,” a giggle erupts from you. to show your adoration, you turn back to cup your boyfriend’s face. he leans into your touch immediately.
“i still am y’know,” his gaze softened. your heart melts at the way he lowers his voice.
“i can’t watch this any longer,” the short haired female gags, searching her coat pocket for a much needed cigarette. suguru agrees silently, tearing his eyes away from the cloying display of affection.
you don’t notice your friends leaving while you’re too engrossed doting on satoru.
“baby– heh– we should head home now,” he groans softly, shivering upon your fingers tracing his undercut. if you continue this any longer, satoru's brain will be fried to the point that no reversed curse energy could fix. the effect you had on him was undeniably unjust.
“can you run me a bath when we’re home?” you pleaded, your voice tinged with weariness. after a night of drinking in roppongi, you felt the weight of the celebrations clinging to your skin.
satoru's lips curled into a playful smirk as he recognized the opportunity presented before him. "only if you'll let me hop in~"
a mischievous agreement danced in your eyes as you responded, "hm okay." you leaned in to place a tender kiss on the corner of his lips. satoru, his affection intensifying by the moment, gently gripped the back of your head and guided your lips back to his. gosh, he was so in love.
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i was going to post all mine but im currently rewriting it so bear with me please !!!!
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katsukikitten · 11 days
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cum here
Warnings: spit, dub con
A Bakugou Birthday collab read the intro on the ML first!
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A notification pulls your attention in your tipsy stupor as you collapse half dressed in your bed. Another successful night out with your girlfriends when your favorite pro hero posts a picture.
A thirst trap no less making you pop up in bed, the room spins delightfully as you stare down at the picture, screen shooting it without a care that he may get a notification for it but you were sure that you wouldn't be the only one.
Bakugou Katsuki, THE Dynamight with his shirt up exposing his abs, his Adonis belt and the vein that leads down to what has to be his fat cock.
You salivate over the thought of it and the several shots of tequila have you feeling bold, although your friends would argue you'd have been this bold sober simply because of how much you spoke about him even if most of the public thought he was an asshole you claimed that's what made him so fucking hot.
Pushing up your tits and angling your phone just right before you snap a photo and attach it to a very public reply before you slip into his dms to send a little something extra.
Bakugou's phone becomes nuclear to say the least, blown up from how many replies and notifications has gotten in such a short time. Each and every woman and the few male prospects are more than attractive and yet none make his cock jump to life, not fully anyway.
Until he sees you, tapping on the picture to make it full screen.
Soft fat tits pressed together, skin aglow in the ambient low light of warm string lights. Tongue lolling past pretty lips, wet muscle most likely fluttering before you took the picture. Obvious that you waited long enough for drool to drip from the tip in a silvery string as some droplets collected on those perfect tits. Pinching his screen to zoom in on your sexy mouth he imagines pressing his angry cock head against before he shoved his length until you gagged around him.
He groans at the thought, zooming out to take in all of you before he finally reads the caption..
Cum here.
“Fuck.” He growls, clicking on your profile, going to privately message you in hopes of more pictures. Palm moving to free his cock from his boxers when he sees you messaged him first.
Sharing your location with the pro hero like a fucking idiot. What if Bakugou had been hacked?
And here you were offering yourself up on a silver platter.
Cum here echoes in his head as he backs out to your selfie and before he can talk himself out of it he's jumping back into the tight black denim that never made it past his thighs.
You lock your phone falling back into your bed after you've seen that he's read your messages. Sighing as you hadn't expected much else, especially since it was his birthday and half of the feed were thirst traps of others tagging Dynamight in hopes of getting his attention. He ignored every single one of them, even from well known models and porn stars, so what chance did you really have?
Still, it was fun to be a little delusional every now and again.
Fireworks echo in the distance and you're surprised the spring festival was going this late into the night. Never one to miss a good show you rise from your bed, topless and half drunk to watch the last of the fireworks before you'd pass out, sleep well past noon before ordering a fat order or take out.
Leaving the sliding glass door open when the cool night air makes you shiver and regret foregoing a shirt. Eyes adjusting to the dark easily but your eyebrow furrows up in confusion. You hear the fireworks but you can't see them.
At least not well, a small orange burst that makes you wonder if maybe they aren't fireworks at all, that maybe it was just a villain making their grand escape.
Scoffing you turn, closing the sliding glass door only for it to be stopped in its tracks. Looking up for see a hulking shirtless man shrouded in darkness on your balcony. Smoke, caramel and whisky envelope your senses as the man breathes evenly behind you. You blink once, twice before you register his eye color.
Toxic, crystalline bromine.
"Dynamight?”
“In the flesh, Sweetheart.” He removes his hand from the frame of the door, takes a step towards you and you step back.
Stalking forward until you're both fully in the room and he delights in the mixture of emotions in your eyes. Fear, excitement, arousal.
“Haaah, what's wrong? Little kitty is acting more like a cornered bunny. Ya scared?” He leers over you, crowding your space, “Shouldn't be. Yer the one who invited the big bad wolf.”
Grabbing onto your chin to turn your pretty face this way and that, he doesn't even need to force his eyes away from your chest, your face captivates him that much. He runs his tongue across his teeth before he smirks.
“Now where am I supposed to cum again?” His large thumb swipes over your plush lips before he shoves it between them, forcing your mouth open.
He tries to recreate the picture you sent him, watches the wet muscle flutter and it makes him salivate. Makes him gather it in his mouth before he's pushing it the tip of his tongue letting his spit hit your tongue.
“Right here wasn't it?” He mixes his spit with yours with his thumb, pressing down on your tongue harshly. He watches your eyes widen before they narrow, into that hungry cat gaze that was in your photo.
Eyes that devour him whole as you hollow your cheeks to suck on his thumb. Swirling it around the digit before you pop off of him, the lewd sound echoing around the two of you.
You're fast, faster than Bakugou, especially drunk, expects. Jumping onto him and wrapping your legs around his waist, bucking your hips to make him fall onto the bed with a grunt as your tongue slides into his mouth. He paws at you heavily, grabbing at all your delicious softness as he growls into your mouth, calloused hands still warm from his journey here. Launching himself into the air that did little to sober him after he stalked your profile enough to get your apartment floor and balcony right.
Your claws dig into the nape of his neck as you bring him into a sitting position parting the kiss slowly, letting the silvery string that connects the two of you snap on its own.
“Gonna let me take care of the birthday boy and his special request?” You practically purr, crawling down his body as your fingers hook into the waistband of his boxers and jeans. All but ripping them from his body even when he lifts his hips to help you free his cock while he grunts out a “‘Course.”
It stands at attention, jumping as your eyes fixate on the one thing you've fucked yourself to the thought of hundreds of times. Drunk all over again, eyes falling to half mast as your hand grips him firmly, listening to him hiss over the contact before you give him a few languid pumps.
Hovering over him for a moment before you look up, watching his pupils blown wide, wider than what they were at the door. Soft almost unnoticeable red tint to his cheeks as he tries to control his breath.
“Try not to fall in love.” You giggle, lolling your tongue out to swipe over the leaking slit in a quick stripe.
“Ya wish, Sweetheart.” But already his head is falling back, hands reaching to grab at your hair before you swipe him away.
Slowly taking him into your mouth, hand gripping what you can't fit into your mouth, letting his fat cock head gag so that your throat contacts the same way your cunt would. Saliva pooling past your lips to coat his shaft, gagging again when you hear him groan before you start a steady pace.
Bobbing your head, alternating hollowing your cheeks and letting him ram into the back of your throat. Giggling when you push his head into the pocket of your cheek, holding eye contact and he reaches down to pull his balls harshly.
He's never been this close to cumming with such little effort.
You let your molars graze him lightly before straightening him in your mouth again. Sure to hit your gag reflex purposefully so that his pre and your spit soak his neatly trimmed pubic hair that's starting to slick to his skin.
If you're lucky he'll stay long enough for your pussy to do that to him too. Cunt neglected as it soaks your underwear as you adjust your weight on your knees for some sort of friction.
Moaning around him when he groans loudly, at his hisses and growls of sugared curses that do nothing but encourage your sinful movements.
Katsuki is panting, the man with all the endurance in the world is fighting the building coil in his lower abdomen and losing.
Bakugou Katsuki never loses but tonight he just might.
Letting his fingers card through your hair before he's pulling harshly, still you don't budge. Lost in your mission to make this last as long as possible by changing from a speed that's bound to make his cum flood your mouth to a slow bob that has you gagging around his sensitive head every time.
Letting your eyes flicker to look up at him and his debauched face, throughly fucked out as his chest heaves eyes fixated on you even as he struggles to hold his head up as if he couldn't bare to look away from.the things you do to him.
The sight is enough to make your eyes flutter, to make you moan around him and the vibrations make his sac tighten, moving your hand so you can shove all of him deep into your tight throat, tears in your eyes that stick in long lashes and fall in fat droplets as you bob on his entire length, once, twice.
And he can't take it, the sight, your eyes all but begging him to cum as you choke yourself on him, as if his pleasure was more important than air.
“Oh fuck princess, just like that.” He groans, cupping the back of your skull as he presses enough to make you gag one last time before he bucks his hips up into you. Starving you of air as your nose is pressed to his pelvic bone while he paints your pretty throat in sticky white cum, your claws digging into the thick meat of his thighs deliciously.
Finally he lets you up and you gasp desperately for air even if you found his aggression as he chased his high undeniably hot. You expect him to smirk, expect him to laugh or to leave pulling up his pants in a hurry but he doesn't.
Instead his large hand grips your chin, pulling you to him as his free hand comes to wrap around your sensitive ribs. Closing the space so that he can kiss you, swiping his tongue over yours shamefully groaning into your mouth as he tastes himself mixed with your spit.
“Fuck.” He pulls you onto the bed, flipping the two of you so he can pin you to the mattress chasing your lips desperately. His other hand has a mind of its own as it rips your panties from your hot core, fingers quick to press and spread your glistening folds. Cruelly avoiding your clit before he shoves two thick digits knuckle deep into your drooling cunt.
Forcing you to arch off the bed, pumping into you with a harsh pace, fingers perfectly positioned to bully that spongy spot that has you seeing stars before he times it perfectly.
Pulling away enough to look you in your eyes before he slowly, roughly, swipes his thumb over your clit and makes you cum in a matter of seconds, faster than any toy. You arch off the bed with a moan so loud you're sure the neighbors know his name now, little do you know what else he has in store.
Removing his middle and ring finger from your fluttering cunt reluctantly, quick to press the digits to his tongue harshly. Smoky caramel fills your senses as his palm heats against the fabric by your head. Leaning over you again to swipe his tongue against yours to taste the two of you melded together in your hot, hungry mouth. He pulls away, hand gently cupping your throat as he holds your gaze, cock heavy and hard again as he aligns it with your still convulsing entrance.
“Sorry Sweetheart, guess I fell in love.” He bullies himself into you in one harsh thrust and you're seeing stars again.
“Now I gotta return the favor.”
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dcxdpdabbles · 4 months
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DCxDP: Immunity system
Danny gets confused for Tim Drake when he stop for gas in Gotham on his way to visit Dan. His clone had set up shop- a literary comic book shop- in Metropolis.
Danny was going for the weekend to help him run the red dot sale and also spend time with his Clone turned older brother.
Dan after being released from his prison and getting a Core Cleanse in the FarFrozen ectoplasm iced pools, had mellowed out greatly.
It turns out Dan had gone mad after suffering a dip in contaminated ectoplasm. He called it "Pit Madness" and Clockwork assured him it was a real medical condition
Much like getting bitten by a rabies-infected animal, Dan's condition was not his fault despite turning him violent.
After the Big Reveal with his parents - who took the news surprisingly well- Team Phantom introduced Elle and Dan to them.
The two clones had been quickly made official Fentons and now Danny had an older brother and a young sister.
Elle lived at home with Danny and his parents, but Jazz and Dan moved out after high school graduation. Danny was thinking of moving in with Dan to go to college.
He wasn't sure, but he still had a whole year to decide.
Danny found a gas station within his GPS map and stopped at the closest one. There weren't a lot of people around, so he assumed that was a slow day.
He was not aware the locals avoided the area due to the danger of feuding gangs. He was also unaware that while pumping the gas, a Scarecrow goon was watching him.
That goon knew his boss had been getting a bit bored with his experiments, and he knew it wouldn't be long before his boss turned on his employees to relieve his boredom.
He was just starting to sweat, thinking he would be the new genuine pig until Tim Drake himself rolled out of a beat up car in the bad part of town.
He practically gift-wrapped himself for Scarecrow! The goon grins, creeping up behind the distracted young man.
One of the employees' inside the gas station had clocked Tim Drake too and had been staring at him - how could he not when Tim was a Bi icon?- and sees the moment the goon covers the boy's mouth with a clotch and yank him into a van that speeds away.
For a moment, the employee only gawked after the speeding vehicle, too shook to do anything as it disappears around a corner.
He scrambles for his phone to call 911. He prays that his slow reaction does not cost Drake's life.
(His call's transcript pings on Oracle's program designed to pick up the civilian names of the Bats if ever used in the emergency hotlines)
Sadly it is hours before the Bats have even an idea of where Tim (actually Danny) was taken to.
Danny wakes up in a warehouse, strapped to a table. He only had a brief moment of thinking his worst fear was coming true ,his parents, were going to rip him apart molecular by molecular, despite it being two years since they learn.
Thankfully a man dressed in a ridiculous Halloween costume steps into the light and he knows it's not his parents.
"Lovely expression Mr. Drake. Let's see how lovely that fear truly is," the man says in a raspy voice, holding up a needle. He stabs Danny with it and the boy blanches as the hot liquid enters his blood stream.
A minute goes by.
Two.
Three.
"Ugh was that supposed to do something?" He questioned, moving around his restraints to check his chances of escape without outing himself as Phantom.
The camera pointing at him limits his options.
The man dressed as Scarecrow lets out a gleeful cackle. He doesn't answer Danny, instead turning to the door- from where Danny can lift his head, it looks like he's in a basement of some kind- and shouts, "Bring me experiment six two six!"
A bulky man comes in carrying a tray of tubes. Danny watches as Scarecrow carefully selects a tube and pours it into another needle. "Lets see how you handle this"
The answer is Danny handles it very well. In fact he takes all seven tubes without a single reaction. Honestly it's the needle that's a real bother.
Scarecrow is both impressed and slightly insulted by the end of it. "How did a simpleton chloroform work on you but not my brilliant science!?"
Danny squints at him. "I would call this many things but never science, let alone brilliant, you fruitloop."
He gets knocked out again for his cheek with a new chloroform rag.
He wakes to the same made leaning over him again, but this time, there is also a clown in purple. Danny can only stare as the clown cackles.
"I think you're losing your special touch if Tim Drake is immune to your Fear Gas." The clown says, and Danny wonders if a costume convention exists in town.
Danny is happy to see that besides being knocked out and tied him down they haven't really done anything to him. "Who are you supposed to be?"
The clown face spams before a wide, mad grin breaks across his face. If Danny were to look of the definition of madness in a dictionary he knows this guy would be the example for it.
"I'm just a simple chum who wants to see the world laugh," The clown tells him, holding a squirt flower in Danny's face. "Let's see that smile!"
Danny squeaks as the liquid splashes in his face, some going up his nose. He coughs while the two men stare intensely at him.
After a moment Danny gets himself under control. "Ugh what was that? Is smell nasty"
The clown face freezes, rage bleeding into his eyes as the scarecrow one scoffs "seem you are also losing your touch, chum"
"No no no. Our little friend just needs a higher dosage! I'll have him laughing in no time!"
He doesn't. After a gas tank full of that nasty-smelling stuff is forced onto his face, and five different needles stabbed into his arm the clown is forced to admit Danny is immune.
They still call him "Mr. Drake" even though Danny tells them between needles that's not his name.
After hours of attempting to get a reaction out of him- both by clown and scarecrow- , Danny is knocked out again by the little rag.
When he comes two three people stand over him. The two from before, though clown now looks murderous and scarecrow politely interested, and a women in green with leaves splat across her outfit.
So Danny got kidnapped by a Scarecrow, a clown, and a nymph? Sounds like the beginning of a bad joke.
The gas mask is forced back onto his face and another Danny struggles he can do nothing as he is forced to breath in a new gas.
The woman watches his reaction with a keen eye before nodding "He should be pretty far gone now"
Scarecrow shakes his head. "There isn't a single reaction. He isn't affected by your pheromones."
The woman scoffs, leaning over Danny and fluttering her eyelashes "You're going to kill dear old dad for me"
Danny glares at her. "Like hell, I will."
His voice is muffled by the mask but they hear him and the woman actually looks shocked "He might need a higher dosage "
"By all means, give it a try. Neither Joker or I saw a difference in Mr.Drake even after adjusting his intake."
"How is that possible?"
"Maybe because you all suck!"
The clown slams his hands on the table. "I am one of the best chemists in the world, brat!"
"And the ugliest!"
Danny doesn't see the knife until it's pressed repeatedly into his left leg. He screams around his mask as the Clown spits and swears at him.
The other two only watch, neither seemingly bothered by the man stabbing a teenager.
Then the knife is plunged into his stomach, and he screams as the world almost whites out in agony.
Danny, blinks the white hot pain, and is just barely thinking of going ghost when the door bursts open and a group of people wearing more costumes pour in.
A man dressed as a Bat flings the clown away with an outraged cry. Danny can't see where the clown lands, but he hears fighting all around him.
A boy in a hood and mask appears in his line of sight. There is a worried frown on his face as he quickly picks at the locks keeping Danny down "Do not worry, Drake, we are here."
Danny finally gives in to the pain, running to blissful darkness as a man in a red helmet lifts him off the bed and makes a run for the door.
The kid provided cover for them.
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landosjpg · 23 days
Text
mischief | ln
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the one where your boyfriend has a bad race.
lando norris x fem!reader
word count: ~0.7k
warnings: smut (minors dni), pwp, p in v, unprotected sex
note: lando’s special helmet is so hot it had me thinking all types of things all weekend so i couldn’t help myself. wrote this during the red flag after an all-nighter so excuse any possible spelling mistakes :)
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lando had a bad race. he had even missed on a podium for a little mistake he’d made during his last stint.
it really shouldn’t matter that much, really; he’d had an overall great weekend. but everyone knew how lando was and how he used to get in his head over those things every time. this one time, however, he wasn’t sad.
he was just pissed off.
once the race was over and he got out of the car, he didn’t even bother taking a few minutes to talk to his engineers. instead, he took your hand and practically dragged you to his driver’s room, promising his team that he would be back in less than fifteen minutes to complete his media duties.
he hadn’t even had time to take his helmet off, and of course he hadn’t explained what he was up to. but before you could think about it, he had you bent over the nearest surface as soon as he slammed the door of his driver’s room close.
the sudden roughness of his movements stole a yelp from your lips, making you look up at him over your shoulder. he probably caught on the confused look in your eyes, because before you could even say a word, his gaze found yours and he asked:
“can i, please?”
the hint of neediness in his voice made you instantly nod, he didn’t had to explain what he wanted. with your quick answer, he proceeded to quickly undo his suit just enough to free his hardening cock.
luckily for him, it was hot that day so you had decides to put on a sundress that very morning. his fingers slowly caressed your thighs up to your hips, pulling the skirt of your dress up with them and revealing your soft skin to him.
he couldn’t help a groan from escaping his throat as he saw the wet patch that was already forming between your legs; and without wanting to waste any more time, he gently kicked your feet to spread your legs open and with two of his digits, pulled your underwear to the side.
“so ready for me,” lando mumbled, his voice low and muffled under his helmet.
before he placed his cock at your entrance, his fingers gave your clit a gentle tap, making you squirm and moan under his touch. then, he quickly slid inside of you, filling you completely with one swift movement.
one of his hand found your hips as he started thrusting into you relentlessly, gripping your body as the other one pressed against your lower back, holding you down in place.
the tip of his cock hit the sweet spot inside you with every single movement of his body, and soon you couldn’t keep the sounds to yourself.
aware of the thinness of the walls and not wanting people to hear you, the hand that was pressed in your lower back slowly creeped up to your hair, holding it in a fist before he pulled you up, your back against his chest.
quickly, his hand found home in your mouth, covering it to muffle your oh so sweet sounds as you looked at his eyes behind his half-open visor.
despite of the helmet covering his face, you could see the lust in lando’s pupils, which was enough to send you over the edge, your walls strangling his cock as you came around him with a muffled cry.
feeling your hands trying to grab onto him and your pussy getting even tighter as he kept fucking into you, it didn’t take him long to reach his own high, filling you with a loud groan.
he stilled himself inside you, his grip on your hip softening and his hand dropping from your mouth, letting you catch your breath again.
you felt your boyfriend’s arms circling around your waist, keeping you close to him before he murmured a low “i love you” in between labored breaths.
after a few seconds in which the only sound that could be heard were your gasps for air, a knock on the door took the two of you back to reality, someone reminding lando of his media duties.
he sighed and took his helmet and balaclava off after putting his suit back in place. not without giving you a peck on the lips, he left you in his driver’s room and rushed to his interviews, a lot more calm that only a few minutes before.
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lovetwist · 1 month
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Veil of Deception (II)
SYNOPSIS: Forced into marriage with Feyd-Rautha, you must now consummate the union. A night of unsparing obscenity. His grip on you is deadly, perhaps worsening when you seek to escape him.
WARNINGS (R18+): dub-con, first time, biting, marking, sexual content, breeding, mentions of choking, power play, violence, weapons, cannibalism
Word count: 2.6k
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PART 1
The night seemed excruciatingly long, your body overwhelmed by the sensations ruptured by your husband: pain, pleasure, pure agony.
Feyd-Rautha was transfixed on the way your hair sprawled out on the bedsheets, creating a halo around your body. You had found it to be a strange request when you were informed to keep your hair long for the wedding. Now you knew exactly who had made the order each time your husband pulled, scrunched, and ran his calloused hands through your locks.
“Please – ah – slower!” you gasped underneath him.
What a mistake to beg or plead. His pace seemed to only quicken with every whimper you released. It had been hours, he was entirely relentless in his pursuit of unraveling you. Every time you felt as though you’d die, he’d slow and make you wet once more.
You hated the way you would arch for him, your physical body betraying your moral dignity. You hated how he would smirk every time, calling you ‘pet’. Most profoundly, you hated the mirror above his bed exposing the shamefulness of every position he took you in and the wanton expression you wore during them.
Feyd-Rautha was a skilled lover, but he was greedy in chasing his own release – which seemed to never end.
Your mother couldn’t prepare you for this, the Bene Gesserit had very little information on the na-Baron’s likes and weaknesses aside from rumors. He had killed the previous Sister sent to seduce him and broken the neck of another Sister who attempted to plant a trigger word in his mind.
Perhaps it would be a miracle if you survived your wedding night.
It was almost animalistic the way he pounded into you with limitless stamina. His seed was still dripping down your legs as he flipped you over like a hound. Your cheeks flushed at this positioning, he was treating you like a beast in heat.
“Cry for me, pet,” he’d sneer every time tears stung your eyes.
“I-I’m not your pet,” you’d pant trying to adjust to his speed. Your defiance and spirit would only set him off further into lunacy.
You’d never forget the raptorial look in his eyes when you first bled. He had prepared you well with his fingers and tongue, but his extraordinary size still pierced your hymen painfully. Feyd-Rautha arrogantly reveled in the fact that he was the first man to claim your maidenhood – and subsequently subjected you to every single one of his primal desires.
His bites on your body ached initially, followed by thorough licks of every reddened wound with his hot tongue. During the brief intermissions, he traced the bruises marked on your hips and thighs smugly. Your husband was a paradox, torment and pleasure wrapped into one.
The experiences he gave you differed wildly from anything you had read upon the marital bed. Though you were disappointed in the lack of romance, you did enjoy his physicality. His allure was striking with chiseled facial features, piercing eyes, and a toned body.
You didn’t fail to notice the flex of his muscles with every thrust into you or how his voice would drop several octaves when he was close to release.
His hands were rough, but his fingers were beautiful – the masterful way they would tease your breasts and sadistically wrap around your throat. You’d shiver when he licked your ears and nipped at your swollen lips.
Feyd-Rautha didn’t kiss you often, but when he did it could only be described as an unearthly procession of dominance. He was aggressive and vicious in the way he forced his tongue down your throat, exploring every inch of your mouth while his large hand locked your face in place. You couldn’t deny that your body was in complete submission of his depravity.
He smirked each time you moaned and mewled into his kiss, flattering his ego. The way he overpowered you so easily made your head spin.
“No more…” you groaned as you gripped the sheets beneath you, already wet with sweat and cum.
He’d sneer and scoff as he denied you, further burrowing himself into your hair and savoring your scent. You couldn’t oppose this predatory creature on top of you, not when he held your entire being in the palm of his hand.
“You belong to me, we stop when I say so,” he growled every time you tried to turn away. He held your wrists down with both arms, caging you beneath him like prey.
The last thing you remember from your wedding night were the rays of sunlight pouring through the curtains when you finally lost consciousness.
-------------------------------------------------------
The morning light filtered through gaps in the velvet curtains, casting a gentle glow over the chamber. You stirred, slowly emerging from the depths of sleep, your body still tingling from the intensity of the night before. Memories flooded back, mingling with sensations of arousal and embarrassment.
The bed was cold. Instead of your husband, you found a silver tray placed next to the nightstand with delectable plates of food.
‘Eat.’ was elegantly scripted on an adjacent card. You rolled your eyes at his overbearing personality but couldn’t deny the pangs of hunger.
After breakfast, you decided to take a bath. As you placed both feet on the ground to walk, your legs wobbled terribly. Sitting back down on the bed with a long sigh, you decided to wait for servants to eventually come fetch you.
Hours passed and no one came. When the sun rose high enough to be early noon, the doors burst open.
Your husband strode in, his presence commanding the entire room. His eyes, still burning with yesterday’s fire, swept over you. He took in your disheveled appearance with a hint of amusement.
"Good, you’re alive," he remarked, his voice laced with self-satisfaction.
"Apologies for the disappointment, but I don’t die so easily,” you retorted, unable to keep the edge out of your voice.
He ignored your comment, crossing the room in long strides until he stood before you, his imposing figure casting a shadow over you. Without a word, he reached out, his fingers trailing along the marks on your chest in a gesture that was both possessive and intimate.
"You fainted,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. "I hope you’ve regained your strength.”
"Don’t touch me,” you shot back, unable to suppress the surge of defiance.
He grabbed your face, forcing you to meet his gaze. "You are my possession. Mine to use, mine to break if necessary,” he reminded you, his voice a low growl. "And you will open your legs for me. If not, then I’ll have to use your pretty little mouth."
You bristled at his words, but beneath the anger, there was a flicker of something else— fear, perhaps, or maybe something more primal, a recognition of the power he held over you and a heat forming in your lower core.
For a moment, you were tempted to push him away, to fight or defy him once more. Not all battles were won in a day, you thought to yourself.
Thus you didn’t protest when he ripped the sheet exposing your naked form, and you stubbornly ignored the fact that you came three times underneath him that afternoon.
-------------------------------------------------------
On the fourth day of your marriage, you become suspicious of why you never see servants. Every day you awake, and everything is remarkably already prepared.
“Why do I not have any servants to attend me,” you questioned.
“You do. Only, no one is allowed to enter my chambers without prior permission,” he replied flatly.
“Well then, I’d like to leave for my own chambers.” You weren’t confident if you even had chambers, but you guessed they must be storing your clothes and belongings somewhere.
“You will leave when I no longer require you here,” his voice boomed. “Aren’t you enjoying our honeymoon, pet?” he mocked.
“Do not call me pet, Feyd-Rautha. I am your wife, not an animal you can cage and entertain on a whim.”
“Right,” he drawled. “If you had been an animal, I would’ve already broken you a thousand times over,” his eyes glinted with interest. “Especially one that doesn’t know when to shut its barking, wife.”
As Feyd-Rautha's words hung heavy in the air, a tense silence enveloped the room. You could feel the weight of his brutal nature pressing down on you, suffocating any resistance that simmered to rise within you. With a deep breath, you squared your shoulders, refusing to cower before him.
"I demand to know why I'm being kept prisoner in this room," you declared, your voice trembling with a mixture of fear and determination.
Feyd-Rautha's eyes narrowed, his gaze darkening with anger. "Prisoner?" he scoffed.
"You are performing your marital duties, na-Baroness. Do not sour my mood. Lest you’ve forgotten the purpose of this union, I need to fuck you until your womb swells with my seed,” he gritted his teeth, “It’s been pleasurable so far, hasn’t it? You moan like a whore under me each night."
Speechless, your mouth gaped at his profanity.
"It would be a mistake to disobey me."
A surge of frustration bubbled up inside you, threatening to spill over. "And if I refuse?" you challenged, daring to meet his gaze head-on.
His lips curled into a cruel smirk, a glint of malice dancing in his eyes. "Then you will suffer the consequences – which you would not be able to bear, little one" he replied, his voice dripping with menace. “Do you want me to show you?”
Before you could respond, he clapped his hands twice. The doors to the chamber burst open, entering a group of armed guards standing at attention. Feyd-Rautha's expression turned into a dark leer.
"Escort my wife to her personal chambers," he commanded, his tone deceptively calm. "And make sure she doesn’t go anywhere without a guard. From now on, she is not to enter nor stay in my rooms."
As the Harkonnens moved to seize you, you realized with a sinking feeling that you were truly trapped in this gilded cage, at the mercy of a man whose cruelty you had yet to understand.
-------------------------------------------------------
Deep within you, a flicker of rebellion still burned bright, a willful resolve to reclaim your freedom and dignity, no matter the cost.
Your room, surprisingly luxurious, boasted a large balcony that offered an overhead view of the training grounds. It seemed purposeful, chosen to serve as a stark reminder of the life you had been thrust into: perpetual violence.
You weren’t alone in your room; servants flitted about, attending to your needs with a silent efficiency that bordered on eerie. They all looked the same, simple white garbs and shaven heads. Attendants moved like shadows, their presence barely felt and never acknowledged. It was as if they were part of the furniture, existing solely to serve.
As na-Baroness, you only had a few measly duties assigned to you: organize balls and events of state. This was laughable as events on Giedi Prime occurred only a few times per year, mostly none with consequence or importance.
There were two ways you could see your husband: on the training grounds or when he came to fuck you.
Feyd-Rautha was a formidable warrior with carefully honed skills and keen senses. However, he often flaunted his prowess to the point of showmanship. Having nothing else to do, you watched his sparring sessions sometimes.
Under the black sun of Giedi Prime, it all seemed like a colorless nightmare that you’d hallucinated. Blood, violence, and the never-ending screams haunted you even as you closed the balcony doors. This was no nightmare, it was reality.
Your husband was a disciplined man who adhered to a tight routine; training early each morning, proceeded by visits your room.
After your confrontation, he hardened towards you. There would be no conversation, Feyd-Rautha had the mind to only satisfy himself and left quickly afterwards. He always slept in his own his chambers.
His anger did not ever seem to dissipate, only replaced with lust temporarily.
The monotonous days left you feeling isolated and adrift in a sea of strangers. The only reprieve came in the form of letters you sent to your family. They’d ask you how you were faring and you’d carefully craft missives that painted a picture of marital contentment while concealing the ugly truth. Of course you couldn’t tell them, not when everything hinged upon the success of this union and the delivery of an heir.
On some lonely nights, as you lay by yourself in the large bed, you regretted asking to leave his side. After all, your golden cage hadn’t expanded and you still exercised no authority.
Four weeks later, you felt relieved that your blood came. True it was your purpose to bear a child, but there was a part of you that feared your husband would simply leave you alone for good once he confirmed a pregnancy.
That afternoon, you gently denied him access to your body. “My courses have come,” you explained, crawling off his lap.
He was shocked for a moment, but then slowly released his grasp on you. He left the room without a word.
Later in the evening, feeling brave or perhaps missing his touch – which you’d never outwardly admit – you decided to break one of the rules by visiting his chamber.
You thought of things to say to him.
I’d like to spend more time together as husband and wife.
I think it would help our marriage to get to know one another.
I want to explore the estate and Giedi Prime.
Your musings were interrupted by the synchrony of female voices and laughter coming out of your husband’s room.
In a momentary fit of shock and fury, you ignored the guards and pushed open the doors.
He was polishing his dagger leisurely with three naked Harkonnen women laying across his bed.
“How dare you enter my chambers without permission,” he hissed. You didn’t miss the way he angled the tip of the dagger towards you.
“Who are they?” you demanded, voice unable to conceal your disturbance and a hint of jealousy.
“My pets, they require special attention,” he replied coolly, at which the harpies giggled in unison.
You understood that they were pleasure slaves. It was common for noblemen to have concubines; you just hadn’t expected your husband would as well. Did he spend the night with them? Is that what he did after leaving your bedroom every day?
You stood frozen in place, humiliated at your naivete. You meant nothing to him, another whore but adorned with an empty title. A guard swiftly followed you inside the chamber, roughly grabbing your arm and beginning to drag you out.
“Na-Baroness, you do not have permission to be in here–”, the rest of his sentence could not be heard as Feyd-Rautha slit his throat and sliced his arm. The man fell where he stood.
“Perfect timing,” he growled. “My darling pets were getting hungry,” he squinted his eyes at the dead guard as though he was lowlier than filth.
None of the other guards dared to touch you after that display.
Monster. Traitor. Killer. 
When the three women ran down to divvy up the bits of his body, you had to fight the urge to puke. You stare at their markings, soulless ebony eyes, and sharp black teeth as they devour the man’s limbs, you’ve never felt more disgust or fear in your life.
Harkonnen. Monster. Traitor. Killer. 
Feyd-Rautha approaches you, expressionless and without any hint of remorse. “Go,” he commands. “Get out unless you want to become fodder for them as well.”
As you turned to walk away, tears fell like raindrops, marking the path of your departure with silent rage and hatred.
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HEAR ME OUT!! ollie thinking felix is single right, hanging out at oxford and everything and then one night felix is nowhere to be seen and he finds him with a girl. turns out feliz is vv much not single but ollie knows her as the smart girl of the school so he's shocked by the pairing?!?!?!
Who would've thought? || Felix Catton x reader
A/n: I actually hate how I did this but oh well, also, my first felix catton fic did so well so quickly!!!! so happy you guys enjoyed it :)
Warnings: swearing, mentions of sex, drinking, idk rlly im so bad w my warnings 😭
Wc: 764
Felix Catton Masterlist
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"Gorgeous, isn't he?" Your voice causes Oliver to flinch as he whips his head to where the sound of your voice came from. "W-what-" He stammers. You giggle at his behaviour, taking a long drag from the cigarette before dropping it to the ground and stepping on it.
"I see the way you stare at him, Ollie. I don't blame you though, he's a sight for sore eyes," You sigh, leaning your head against the wall, watching Felix with his friends.
Oliver didn't know what to say. He only stared at you before gravitating his gaze back to Felix. Oliver knew you as one of the smartest girls at school, your grades rivalling with his.
"You can admit it. He's gorgeous." You open your mouth again, turning your head at Oliver with a grin. He gulps. "I-uhm-" He began before you interrupt him, "Come on, Ollie" Your tone was playful.
"He's gorgeous." Oliver quickly replied as you smile. You push yourself off the wall, patting Ollie's shoulder before leaving him standing there dumbfounded.
~
"Fuck!" You curse as you feel the hot liquid cascade down your front. You let out a loud groan, throwing your coffee cup in a nearby bin. "I'm so sorry-" "It's fine! Completely fine," You mutter to the idiot who bumped into you because his eyes was trained on a book.
You let out a deep sigh, checking your watch. You would be late if you turned back around to change. "Hey! Y/n!" You hear a voice call out from behind you. Turning your head you spot Oliver coming your way on his bike.
“Hey?” you greet him with a hint of confusion. Without a word, he unzips his backpack, pulling out a plaid shirt. “Wear this to cover the spill,” he suggests, a warm smile accompanying the gesture. You conceal any distaste with a subtle expression, graciously accepting the offered shirt.
“Uhm-” “Just return it later when you can,” he cuts you off, not giving you time to answer before riding off. You stand there, looking down at the plaid shirt, before letting out a sigh and slipping it on.
“Cute shirt, babe,” your boyfriend chuckles, and you respond with an eye roll, sitting down with a loud huff escaping your lips. “Don’t even. Some idiot bumped into me on the way here,” you mutter, opening your notebook aggressively.
Farleigh strolls in, joining the two of you, “Woah, loving the shirt, y/n. Where’d you get it from? The charity shop?” He jokes, prompting you to scowl at him. He raises his hands in surrender as Felix’s chuckles resonate beside you.
“Jesus, what’s got your panties tied up in a knot?” he laughs, taking a seat beside you while you choose to ignore him. Suddenly, Felix exclaims, “Oh, shit! Farleigh, we gotta go. Professor Davies wants to see us,” checking his watch before swiftly getting up.
Farleigh vents his frustration with a groan, “Sorry, babe. See you later?” Felix plants a kiss on your cheek, and you nod in response, waving the two boys off before redirecting your focus to the notebook in front of you.
“Hey,” you raise your head to find Oliver approaching. Flashing a warm smile, you greet him with a friendly, “Hi Oliver,” your attention briefly returning to your book as he stands there, exuding a hint of awkwardness.
“I’ll make sure to return your shirt once it’s washed,” you reassure him, receiving a silent nod in acknowledgment. Returning to your book, you shift your attention back to him, “Is there anything else you need?” He nervously scratches his neck. “Do you mind if I study with you?” His question catches you slightly off-guard.
“Absolutely, feel free,” you graciously respond, rearranging your belongings to create space for him to settle. A warm smile graces his face as he takes the offered seat, expressing gratitude with a simple “Thanks.” You reciprocate with a light chuckle, assuring him, “No problem at all.”
~
“He is such a nerd,” Farleigh snorts as you roll your eyes, your fingers moving to play with Felix’s necklace around his neck. Noticing your quietness, Felix looks at you on his lap. “You okay?” He says quietly as you hum, taking a sip out of his glass, before pressing your cheek against his, your eyes wandering around the table.
“I should probably go now, I don’t wanna study too late,” You let out a quiet sigh as you get up from your boyfriend’s lap. Felix lends a helping hand to adjust your skirt, smoothly guiding the denim down while playfully patting your ass, accompanied by a mischievous grin.
“Where are you going? It’s still so early!” Annabel shoots you a disapproving frown from across the table. “I really need to study for that test tomorrow,” you respond, the playful boos from others resonating as you playfully roll your eyes.
“Listen, I’ll buy the next round yeah?” Your offer is met with enthusiastic hoots as you chuckle. Rounds tend to be costly, especially with our group, but being part of a wealthy family, the expense doesn’t faze you.
Felix joins you in fetching the drinks before you wave at your group and make your exit. Outside, the cool night air embraces you as you walk down the stairs, and a twinge of regret sets in over your choice of attire.
Lost in thought, you accidentally collide with someone. Looking up, you find yourself face to face with Oliver, whose initial surprise transforms into recognition. “Oh, Oliver, hey,” you manage a smile, and he reciprocates it warmly.
“Hey. You headin’ back?” He gestures behind him with his thumb, and you nod, “Yeah, studying for that test we have tomorrow morning.” A chuckle escapes you as he nods, an awkward silence settling between the two of you.
“Is it, uh, busy in there?” Oliver speaks up. “Hm? Oh. Uhm, no, not really,” you shake your head. Another moment of silence follows. “Listen, Ollie, I should really get going,” you purse your lips as he moves aside. “Yeah, of course,” he offers you a warm smile, and you nod your head, walking away.
~
Over the course of the next couple days. Felix and Oliver had become very good friends. You would hear Felix’s recounts of his day when the two of you were entangled in each others arms and it always included Oliver.
The party rolled around and you found yourself dancing with Felix, your ass on his crotch as the two of you seamlessly moved to Sexyback.
With one hand cradling a red plastic cup filled with alcohol, and the other clasping a partially smoked cigarette, Felix guided your hips skillfully, his touch resting casually on your hipbone.
“You look so fuckin’ hot,” Felix exclaimed loudly over the music as you smirk to yourself, already abit tipsy. “Do you wanna go somewhere?” You reply back to him, turning around as he eagerly nods.
You giggle to yourself, knowing what the rest of the night would consist of. Fucking Felix. You stumbled as Felix pulled you along the house. “Fuck, these heels,” You moan in annoyance.
Eager to reach his dorm quicjly, Felix scooped you up in a bridal carry, one arm under your knees and the other supporting your back. A light squeal escaped you, drawing the attention of those around, their curious stares following the two of you.
The second he shut the door behind him, your clothes littered his room as he ravenously attacked your lips, his hands roaming around your body as you let out quiet moans, enjoying the way they groped every inch of your body.
Meanwhile, Oliver was roaming around the party, completely and utterly bored. He first wandered around looking for someone he knew, but that was only three people. You, Felix, and Michael. Michael wouldn’t even be there, so just you or Felix.
Acknowledging the fact that neither you or Felix were here, Oliver’s gaze fell on Farleigh at the other end of the room. With a joint in hand, reclining on the couch, Oliver decided to test his luck and headed in Farleigh’s direction.
“Do you know where Felix is?” Farleigh looks Oliver up and down before raising an eyebrow at him. “Why do you wanna know?” His tone was flat, bored from talking with Oliver already.
“Just wonderin’,” Oliver shrugged awkwardly. Farleigh, taking a long drag, nonchalantly answered, “He went back to his dorm, I think,” his tone uninterested as he flicked ash from his joint.
“Thanks,” Oliver nods his head before turning around. The walk to Felix’s dorm was all too familiar for him, often spending time there whenever he and Felix hung out.
He knocks on the door. No response. He knocked again. Still no response. Oliver then tried the door handle, twisting it only to find it unlocked. Opening the door with a loud creak as his eyes look around the dimly lit interior of Felix’s room.
“Felix-“ Oliver cuts himself off as he realises what he just walked in on. A feminine gasp reached his ears as he instinctively tried to avert his gaze. “For fuck’s sake, mate!” Felix’s irritated voice resonated, accompanied by the rustling of sheets in the room.
Felix quickly moves to cover the both of you as you screw your eyes shut. “Can’t you fuckin’ knock Ollie?” Felix exasperates as he slips on his boxers, his frame still covering you from Ollie’s eyes.
"Sorry, the door was unlocked, so I thought-" Oliver began, but Felix cut him off, "Yeah, well, you thought wrong," accompanied by an annoyed chuckle. You reached for Felix's shirt, slipping it on as you sat on the bed.
Oliver couldn't help but feel a twinge of curiosity at who Felix was fucking; there was no denying it. It couldn’t have been Annabel or India—two girls he's often heard talking about Felix as if they were together—both of them were at the party when he left. So who was it? “Seriously mate. If I don’t answer, I’m either not here or don’t want to answer,” Felix runs his hands through his hair.
He was very bothered that he was interrupted. Felix hated being interrupted in the middle of things. Especially sex with you. “Felix, it’s okay,” You rest your hand on his shoulder as he looks back at you.
Oliver's jaw hung open, frozen in a momentary state of shock, as your head playfully emerged beside Felix. His eyes widened as he tried to process the unexpected sight before him. A cascade of questions flooded his mind, evident in the incredulous expression on his face. "Hi, Ollie," you greeted with a light chuckle, amusement dancing in your eyes as you observed his stunned reaction.
The air seemed charged with a mixture of surprise and curiosity as Oliver stammered through his words, attempting to articulate the myriad of questions racing through his mind. "I- What- Are you two-" he fumbled, his sentences colliding in his attempt to understand the situation unfolding before him.
Felix, ever nonchalant, cut through the awkward tension with a matter-of-fact tone. "She's my girlfriend," he stated, his words hanging in the air. As if to emphasize the point, you casually moved to sit on Felix's lap.
A moment of stunned silence enveloped Oliver. Felix had a girlfriend, and it was you. The revelation hit him with unexpected force, leaving him momentarily breathless. Questions swirled in his mind, and he couldn't comprehend why no one had ever mentioned it before.
"Why do you look so shocked, Ollie?" Felix chuckled, a lighthearted tone in his voice, while you added to the teasing atmosphere with a playful giggle. You could practically sense Oliver's head spinning with the unasked questions, creating an intriguing air of mystery around the situation.
Oliver's eyebrows furrowed slightly, his expression a mix of confusion and surprise as he processed the unexpected pairing. He released a nonchalant shrug, attempting to mask the internal whirlwind of thoughts.
"No one’s ever said anything about it, I just assumed you both were single," he admitted, his eyes fixed on you and Felix. Oliver's head continued to shake in a subtle attempt to grasp the reality of you being in a relationship with Felix.
A faint smile played on your lips as you tilted your head at him, a touch of amusement in your gaze. "You never asked," you pointed out casually, your words hanging in the air. Oliver's lips formed a perfect 'O' as he absorbed the implication, silently nodding in acknowledgment.
The room was then engulfed in an awkward silence, the weight of unspoken words lingering in the atmosphere. Sensing the discomfort, Oliver took the initiative to break the tension. "Uhm, I should get going," he announced, his hand absently scratching the back of his head. Felix, understanding the unspoken cue, nodded in agreement. "Yeah, go ahead."
Oliver's lips pursed, his gaze flickering between you and Felix, caught in a moment of realization. With a slightly awkward smile, you innocently waved at him. "Bye, Ollie!" you chimed in a light-hearted manner, attempting to alleviate the awkwardness as he leaves the dorm.
Felix couldn't hide his amusement. "You really didn't tell him?" he asked, breaking the silence with a playful smile as he looked down at you. In response, you innocently shrugged. "I didn't think it was that necessary to bring it up, besides, he really never asked."
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anantaru · 9 months
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neuvillette eats pussy to distress
cw. oral (fem! receiving), you're a lil bratty, fem! reader
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what comes out of your mouth are nothing more than short-planted whimpers, little, hesitant cries, and then a filthy moan of neuvillette's name, but you tell yourself that you do not want to give him that certain satisfaction he had longed for all night— and you sneakily trace along his scalp with your trembling fingers, he hisses when you tug on his roots, then whines into your pussy when you do it again, eyes growing wide at your fine-drawn pursue.
"there certainly is no need to hold yourself back for me." he suddenly claims and it has you avert your eyes, the way he had phrased it was almost a little too detached and apathetic to your own liking— almost as if he didn't take this whole thing serious and believed that he gave in, just for a second, in one of the lewd, obscene pleasures of human kind, before adding, "because you do, in fact, hide your voice."
"am i correct?"
"i don't!" sweet sweet liar, because you do, you've been blocking them out this entire time, "maybe you're not as good— fuck, as you think you are!"
the man laughs, a little aloof, and evidently, neuvillette was aware on what he was capable of doing to you and his fingers are cool and persistent in fucking in and out of your little hole, and despite it being only a digit, not even fully in, your toes curl and your legs clasp around his head when he adds his tongue, it has your sticky slick pooling between the folds of your cunt and merging with his spit, fuck, acting as if he didn't bring you unrecognizable pleasure was harder than you originally thought.
especially since he appeared to be exceptionally fatigued and certainly used your body as a way to distress from day to day work— for him, this type of work life balance was the most sufficient one.
neuvillette slides his warm tongue up and down your pussy in long swipes when you shiver at the mere sight of him doing so, feeling like everyone in the giant building can hear what's happening to you right this second, more so know who is pulling those lewd noises out of your sore throat.
your glowing eyes, in a sudden haste, spring open when you feel how he languidly spits on your cunt, once, twice— so you're wetter for him, he claims you taste better that way, lubricating you so he can drag his tongue into you faster, just like you so desperately wanted him to, yet in secret, you'd never tell him that— while, the chief justice most definitely preferred it if you're adequately messed up whenever he comes to see you, your exposed core luminous, hole clenching around his digits and you swear you can feel him smirk faintly, although he wasn't a man of great emotions, while proceeding in this particular task, he couldn't possibly suppress this feral, animalistic desire housing deep inside his chest, rumbling and aching for a possibility to escape.
the twist in your stomach builds up quickly, quicker than you initially had anticipated, "how— how, fuck!" you manage to say, "how are you so fucking good at this?" and your fingers find themselves wounding in his hair, holding onto him for your dear life when a tremor of cold shivers crossed over your figure when he groans into your pussy by the nature of your rough tugs on his scalp, his breath hot and wet when it ghosts over your soaked folds. 
"there they are." he moans into your cunt, not giving a single flying fuck if his face was slicked up in your juices, as said, he adored making a mess, "those noises i've been looking forward to."
at last, when he adds another finger into your hole and curls them up, the tightened thread in your stomach snaps in half and you shake violently while pinned down with one of his arms strongly locked over your stomach, with a cry of his name, that you originally preferred to stay hidden in your throat, your loud moans tumble and bounce from your lips to his ears as you cum all against his mouth so he could finally taste you.
but the long-rooted waves of your pleasure have not dissipated as he continues to flick his tongue over your clit, your slick by now basically coating the entire lower half of his face, his eyes fixated on nothing but your addictive, more so intoxicating expressions— you knew neuvillette wouldn't stop, there's no such thing as leaving a case half finished, he had a habit of prolonging your orgasm until you're overstimulated to the hilt, always, whenever he had you under him, it's his way of fucking you, until you're nothing but satisfied, such as he was whenever a trial ends with no complications.
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©2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify
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zanarkandskylines · 2 months
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₊✩‧₊◜ can’t stop thinking about the possibility of getting caught with Bakugo in public on a patrol shift.
꒰ tags & content ꒱ 18+ MDNI! Voyeurism, dirty talk, some praise/pet names, biting/scratching, unprotected sex, overstimulation, cream pie
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“Mmph, mm!”
“Shh, baby, ya gotta keep it down,” Bakugo coos, tenderly stroking your hips before driving his cock into you full force again, pressing your back up against the brick wall of the alleyway. “Someone’ll hear how good your gettin’ fucked.”
It was a slow patrol day, no emergency calls or distress signals for the last hour or so. By some miracle, the two of you were stationed to neighboring sectors for the second time this week. Your schedules were opposite as of late, only getting to see each other in passing or on a day off, so you took advantage of the time you were given.
Bakugo bounced you off his hips with his thrusts, holding you effortlessly as he drilled away at your drenched pussy, slick frothing up between you two. The way your walls clenched around him and massaged every inch of his thick cock has his head spinning. You had one hand over your mouth and one on his shoulder, desperately trying to cover up your ascending moans.
“Ahh Dynamight!” you whine as your hand slips from your face, biting your bottom lip - hard enough to leave it pulsing and flushed. You’re too delirious and fucked out to keep your volume hushed, every single nerve in your body on fire with each buck of his hips.
“That’s-mmph-right, ba-fuck-by, only the number two hero can...fuck you this fuckin’ good,” Bakugo growls, pulling you by the waist to plunge deeper into your tight cunt, hot breath tickling your neck. The angle makes your eyes roll back, swearing he's piercing your cervix as drool threatens to drip from the corners of your mouth. You claw at his chest, viciously groping his pecs and twisting his clothed nipples beneath your fingers. An animalistic groan erupts from his throat as his pacing becomes brutal, the pleasure becoming unbearable in your belly. Your slurring words as they're spilling from your lips, garbled by the moans bubbling up from deep within you.
The communicator in both your ears beeps simultaneously and the general alert of "Assistance Requested in Sector...," signaling any nearby heroes for help. Bakugo kisses your jaw repeatedly, nipping at the skin in-between each peck of his lips.
"Go'head princess, cum all over my cock for me."
The thread inside you snaps violently, the pressure of your orgasm wracking your body so hard that you're close to passing out from the rush. You're vibrating and clamping down on him with newfound strength that he's gasping for breath when he feels the flood of slick coat his dick, dripping from your folds, down his length and onto the ground between thrusts. There's an audible sloshing as Bakugo's tempo becomes uneven, chasing his own release.
"Fuck! Y've never...squeezed me like this...you're so fuckin'-mm-tight!"
His words are strained as he latches onto your collarbone, canines sinking through your hero suit and piercing your skin. A breathless scream escapes you as you feel the explosive release against your walls, hot spurts of seed flowing into you and combining with your own spend. Bakugo's knees buckle and threaten to let him collapse as he catches you - steadying himself to hold you and use the wall as support. His crimson gaze meets yours, darting between your parted lips and lidded eyes.
"Ch-christ baby, that was insane," he rasps through harsh breathing. His follow up kiss is rough, a silent thank you between clashing tongues and bruised lips. He breaks the kiss to nuzzle his face into the crook of your neck, sweat collecting on your suit from his forehead.
"I'll take th' call, your shift's up anyways. I'll swing by your place after, 'kay?" Bakugo whispers as he's putting you down slowly, pulling out of you as he keeps you upright on jelly legs. All you can do is nod and smile, readjusting your hero suit to its natural state. He's fixing his own clothes and notices you're shaking like a leaf, struggling to stand up straight.
"Y'okay to get home? I can take ya if you can't walk. 's my fault anyways."
"Y-yeah, I think so. I'll just sit here for a few minutes," you say, sliding down the wall and plopping to the ground. "I legitimately think you fucked me into another dimension for a hot second."
Bakugo snickers, kneeling down to cradle your cheek and kiss you again, but this time, it's featherlight.
"Glad to have ya back in this one."
You say goodbye, waving to him as he leaves the alley to answer the earlier distress call. His voice travels through your intercom as he responds and heads to the neighboring sector, a few explosions ringing through the air. The pulsing in your center calms to a flutter within the next few minutes and allows you to finally get to your feet. Good thing you're next scheduled patrol isn't for a few days - you're gonna need some recovery time after a fucking like that.
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lots-of-pockets · 6 months
Text
Five times you find an excuse to carry Natasha and the one time she asks
Paring: Natasha x you
Words: 4756
Warnings: some swearing i think
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1.
You tenderly grip the side of Natasha's thigh to keep it still as you graze the disinfectant wipe over the shallow cut placed just above her knee, your thumb absentmindedly grazing soft circles across the warm skin.
She was sat on the closed toilet seat clad in nothing but her sports bra and underwear, her hand clinging to both your index and middle finger as her eyes watch your every move.
Scrapes and bruises littered seemingly every inch of her pale skin, marring the already scarred, yet still beautiful canvas that sat before you. Some were sunken in and white, old from years of healing. Some were newer, still pink and raised. Each and every one told a different story. Some of which you knew, but most of which you didn't and probably never would.
You didn't necessarily mind honestly. Because all that you cared about right now was the fact she was letting you take care of her. That she'd allowed you to tenderly undress her without a single word of complaint. You had her trust, and if that's was all she was ever willing to give, it would forever be enough.
Not a single word had been spoken between you since she'd gotten home from her latest mission with Steve just twenty short minutes ago, and you weren't in a hurry to break whatever comfortable silence had settled upon you and you knew Natasha wasn't either.
You give the flesh of her thigh a comforting squeeze when a small, pained hitch of breath emits from the back of her throat at the sting the wipe against her skin, giving the damp skin a soft kiss before covering it with a large bandaid.
You then look up at her from your spot knelt between her legs, content to find her green irises already staring right back at you. They looked exhausted. She looked exhausted, and all you wanted to do was scoop her up into your arms and take her to bed.
The sudden shine of her eyes is what halts you in your tracks.
It was oh so rare to see Natasha cry. To witness her completely drop her walls and allow you to see the true pain she always seems to mask without an issue. It was a sight that has your own throat constricting and without a word, you place your hands underneath her armpits and coax her off of the closed toilet seat and onto your lap.
She straddles you, legs tight around your hips as arms rise to settle around your neck. Your own arms settle around her shaking frame, one hand cupping the back of her head as the other traces soothing circles over the bare expanse of skin.
"I've got you, baby." You finally speak, nuzzling your nose into her neck and taking in soothing scent of slight sweat and vanilla. Your lips press a soft kiss to the skin as you pull away just slightly, tightening your hold around Natasha to reassure her you wouldn't be letting go until she requested it.
She was trembling in your arms, tears hot against your neck, yet her sobs of grief don't make a single sound. Natasha had always been a silent cryer. No matter the circumstance; no matter the situation, it was quiet. All of the time. And you absolutely hated it.
She deserved to feel her grief just as loud and freely as everyone else, yet she fails to agree. She'd never outrightly told you so, but the look in her face as you'd spoken those words had been enough. And so you simply hold her. Love her. Cherish her, hoping that one day she'd realise she deserves the entire world.
Natasha soon stills in your embrace, those once barely audible hitching breaths easing into just quiet sniffles. With a soft kiss to her shoulder to let her know you had her, you place a hand beneath of each of her thighs and haul yourself to your feet.
It was an easy feet considering her slight frame, but that doesn't stop the quiet squeak of surprise that escapes her lips as you bounce her up in your arms slightly to get a better grip, forearms slipping beneath her behind as opposed to her thighs as you carry her through to your shared bedroom.
"I've got you, baby."
2.
"Babe, can you help?!"
At the sound of your girlfriends voice, your eyes instinctively flicker away from the tv and towards the kitchen doorway. You don't wait for her to ask again as you pause the show you were both currently binging before rising to your feet, shuffling through to the kitchen where you were greeted with the sight of Natasha trying, yet failing to reach something on the top shelf of the cupboard.
She was clad in nothing but one of your oversized shirts and underwear, her typical attire after a long day at work.
She jumps, and you couldn't help but snort in amusement when she doesn't even come close to reaching the desired item. She glances back at the sound of your stifled laugh, an unamused look appearing on her face in the form of a pout. Without a word, you walk towards her and cup her cheeks before pressing your lips against the warm skin of her forehead. She all but melts into your touch, and you allow your lips to linger just a few seconds longer than normal because of that.
As you pull away and Natasha falls against your chest, you look up to see the item she'd been attempting to grab was a bag of popcorn. You knew you could easily reach up and grab it for her. After all, you weren't exactly small. But a part of you wanted Natasha to be able to grab it herself. She was miss independent. Always had been and you knew she'd appreciate it if you didn't treat her like she was incapable.
With that in mind, you give her body one last squeeze before bending down and wrapping your arms underneath her backside.
Natasha glances down at you with an adorably confused expression on her face, and you press an affectionate kiss to her clothed chest before standing up straight and bringing her with you. She lets out a undignified yelp at the unexpected action, her arms all but clinging to your head as it settles in between her breasts.
Keeping your arms hooked tightly beneath her butt, you bounce her up slightly wanting her to be able to reach her popcorn without fearing she'd fall.
"What are you doing?" She laughs as she looks down at you. You were greeted with an adorably tiny double chin, and you couldn't help but nuzzle your nose against the soft flesh before gesturing with your head towards the popcorn.
"Grab your popcorn baby." You coax, and Natasha rolls her eyes fondly as she releases you with one arm and successfully grabs her snack. Once it was in her grasp, you don't put her down. You simply allow her to slide down your body so her legs were hooked around your waist. Your arms remain beneath her ass, and you give it a playful squeeze earning yourself a quiet squeak of surprise.
"Snuggle time?" You ask, and Natasha sends you a playful glare before nodding her head and allowing you to carry her back through to the living room.
3.
"Nat? Are you coming to bed baby? It's late and-" the remainder of your words get stuck in your throat when you fully take in the sight that greets you. There your girlfriend was, sprawled out on the gym floor, still clad in her workout gear, fast asleep. She was curled up on her side, hands tucked beneath her chin with legs curled up against her chest.
Slipping into the large room through the small gap you'd created, you kneel down next to her and rest a gentle hand on her bare side. She doesn't make a peep at the touch, telling you that she must be exhausted because Natasha was notoriously known for being one of the lightest sleepers ever.
"Oh baby..." you trial off, unsure as to why she'd allowed herself to fall asleep here when there was a perfectly good bed available just upstairs. It was past eleven at night now, way too late for her to still be working out but getting that into her head was proving to be exceedingly difficult.
You contemplate your next actions for a few silent moments as you stare down at your sleeping girlfriend, not wanting to wake her but unsure if you were able to carry her such a far distance to your shared room. It wasn't that she heavy. In fact, when she was awake you could carry her miles because at least then she was holding up some of her own weight. But she was asleep now, and you knew she'd be a complete dead weight.
Knowing you had no other choice, you carefully manoeuvre her onto her back and situate yourself between her legs before leaning down and placing your chest against her own. Her arms seem to instinctively rise to cling to your shirt, and you couldn't help but smile at the action as you hook one arm beneath her back, placing the hand of the other against the back of her head before easing her into a sitting position.
She was now straddling your lap, head heavy against your shoulder as her hands dangle limply over your shoulders. You take a few moments to prepare yourself before hooking an arm beneath her backside and rising to your knees. Two arms would probably be easier, but you needed that to keep her chest flush against your own so she didn't fall backwards.
With a quiet grunt, you lift one leg so your foot was planted firmly on the padded floor before using all the strength in you to rise fully to your feet. You manage the task with no more than  a small wobble, and you silently congratulate yourself as you gently bounce Natasha up into your arms so she'd be more supported.
"What?" You hear her grunt in confusion as her legs instinctively tighten around your waist, and you shush her quietly as you rest a tender hand on the back of her head.
"It's just me, pumpkin. Go back to sleep." You murmur into her ear as you muzzle your nose into her neck, and Natasha let's out a heavy sigh before once again falling limp against you.
Once you were sure she wouldn't wake again, you bring both arms back beneath her behind and begin making your way out of the gym and towards the elevator. You silently curse Tony for making the compound so freaking big as the sliding doors open, arms already aching as you step inside and use your elbow to press the button to the floor your shared room was on.
Natasha, just like you'd suspected, was now a dead weight in your arms, legs limp around your waist and head heavy against your shoulder. You could feel the soft breaths of her quiet exhales against your neck as she sleeps peacefully against you, and you allow yourself to take comfort in the feeling as the doors slide open allowing you to stop out.
The journey to your room was thankfully quick, and you gently bounce Natasha up again so she was at less of a risk of falling when you release her momentarily with one of your arms to type in the code. Soon, you were inside your room, and you let out a quiet sigh of relief as you place one of your knees against the mattress before cupping the back of her head and easing her down onto the bed.
Knowing your next task -stripping her of her tight work out gear and into some comfy pyjamas- would be exceedingly more difficult than the last, you decide to take a few moments and climb into bed next next to her. She seems to instinctively sense your presence, curling up against your chest and throwing one of her legs over your waist, her hand slipping underneath your shirt to rest against the bare skin of your back.
You immediately return the embrace, the hand of the arm acting as her pillow grazing gentle patters against her back whilst your other hand trials affectionately just beneath the waistband of her yoga pants.
With the knowledge that you wouldn't be moving for the remainder of the night, you place a tender kiss to her forehead and murmur a quiet I love you against her hairline before allowing your own eyes to flicker closed too.
4.
When you hear Natasha sigh for the third time in just a few minutes, you force yourself to look away from your book and stare at her with a single eyebrow raised. You were both lounged on the couch, Natasha at one end with her blanket and laptop, and you on the other with your book. You'd both just eaten dinner -Mac and cheese courtesy of Yelena, and you had both taken it upon yourselves to have a few minutes of personal time before you inevitably ended up snuggled together.
When you receive no response to your silent question, you bookmark your place in your book before setting it down onto the coffee table.
"What's wrong miss pouty pants?" You tease affectionately as you poke her with your foot, and the red head sends you an unimpressed glare before seemingly reluctantly bringing her attention back to her laptop. Her hands were frozen on the keyboard, and you could see by the reflection in her glasses that was was working on what appears to be yet another mission report.
Understand her frustration, -because this was the fifth document today, you rise to your knees and shuffle over to her, wedging yourself in between her body and the back of the couch.
Your cheek settles on her shoulder, and though she hesitates, you do eventually feel her cheek come to rest atop of your head. You smile at the action as your arm settles around her waist, fingers creeping beneath her shirt to rest against bare skin. 
"When do these need to be in?" You question quietly, and you feel her stomach rise and fall as she takes a deep breath.
"Tuesday." She responds, and you hum in acknowledgement as you reach forward to save the document before closing the laptop.
"What? No! What are you-" she attempts to grab the computer as you reach over to set it on the coffee table next to your book.
"Baby, it's only Friday. You have time." You attempt to assure her as you grab her hand, but Natasha simply shoves you away from her and attempts to make a grab for her computer. Her fingers skim it before you decide enough was enough. Without a word, you rise from the couch, grab Natasha by the underarms and haul her up with you.
She lets out an undignified yelp her chest collides with your own, "What the heck are-"
"No more computers for Natasha today," you interrupt her as you bounce her up in your arms, your arms beneath her backside to keep her supported as you carry her out of the room and up the stairs. She squirms relentlessly throughout the entire journey making it much harder and longer than it needed to be, but you eventually make it upstairs without dropping her on her ass.
"I will kick your ass," she warns in an almost silent growl as you kick your bedroom door open. "Put me down, right no-ahhh!" you toss her onto your shared bed. She glares at you as you climb in next to her, placing a hand on either side of her head.
"What in the actual fu-mhhhfff."
You smirk against her lips when you feel her kiss back without hesitation, knowing you had her right where you wanted her.
5.
Though the sight in front of you was becoming rather amusing, you knew for a fact that if you didn't put a stop to it now, Natasha would hand Tony's ass to him served on a silver platter.
You see, she was sick. And not just a little sick, but a full on fever and flu that had left her so congested she sounded like a duck when she talks. She needed to be in bed. You knew that also, but convincing her was a quiet the fucking task.
You'd attempted to get her into bed, but she'd simply pushed you into it instead, muttering -if you like the bed so damn much, you get in it- underneath her breath before storming out of the room.
Ten minutes later, you were in the meeting room, and the first five minutes had been fine. Natasha had seemingly been able to get herself under control and not a single peep was made. That had changed rather abruptly when Yelena had teasingly poked her sisters red nose, and Natasha, with a sharp glare towards the blonde, had sneezed four times in a row earning herself a look of disgust from Tony.
"Listen red, you're gross and contagious. You're going to make everyone else gross and contagious if you don't get out of here." Tony attempts to be nice about it as he shields himself with a piece of paper, but the damage had already been done if the look of pure anger on Natasha's face was anything to go by.
"You're a man. That automatically makes you gross and contagious. No one likes you and your stupid tin suit so shut your fucking mouth before I shut it for you." She growls, and Tony winces as he sends you a helpless look.
You shrug a little helplessly yourself, not knowing what to do without angering the red head further. As they continue to bicker, you feel a poke to your arm. You look over and see Yelena staring at you with a smirk. It was clear to see she was amused also, but there was a hint of concern in her eyes that wasn't hard for you to miss.
"How much do you like your face?" She asks, and you frown in confusion as you glance between the red head and her sister.
"Quite a lot." You admit, and Yelena clicks her tongue in thought for a second before turning back to you.
"I won't be able to carry her myself, but we have more of a chance if it's two against one." She murmurs, and you hum in thought as you watch Natasha take yet another step towards a terrified Tony.
You knew this may be your only option to get her out of here. After all, it was becoming increasingly obvious that she wouldn't willingly leave herself and there was no way you could talk her out of whatever this was when the threat -Tony- was still within close proximity. You couldn't exactly ask him to leave either, because this was his building.
"Okay. I got her arms. You get her legs." You tell her as you shrug off your jacket, and Yelena nods as she rises to feet and shakes out her arms as it preparing for battle. You snort slightly at the sight, but do the same knowing that by the time you're done, you may no longer be alive.
Yes, Natasha was small, but she was still a former assassin, probably stronger than you and Yelena put together. This was not going to be fun for any of you.
With Yelena close behind, you make your way over to Natasha, stopping just a few feet away. Tony see's you and his eyes light up, proving as a temporary distraction for Natasha who looks confused at the abrupt change of emotion.
Without warning, you lurch forward and grab the red head by the waist, trapping her arms beneath your own as you lift her from her feet. An undignified yelp was your response, and Yelena was quick to step in and grab her flailing legs, wrapping her arms around her calves and effectively pinning them against her own chest.
When it becomes clear she was trapped, Natasha squirming ups a tenfold and you grunt slightly as you begin carrying her out of the room. "What the fuck? Let me go! Stop fucking manhandling me you fucking assholes!"
"Thank you Y/n and mini Romanoff. Bye red!" You hear Tony call, any both you and Yelena share a smirk as you successfully manage to carry the unhappy Russian into the hallway.
"No sex for a week! A month! Yelena I'm stealing your vest and setting it on fire! This is not fair! Let me go!"
Yelena looks mildly disgusted at Natasha's words towards you, but when she hears the threat towards her vest, she looks as though she may cry. When she meets your eyes, you shake your head, silently letting her know Natasha didn't mean it, and whilst she seems doubtful, she does nod her own head in understanding.
Soon, you were in the elevator, a much needed break for your arms and legs because this was way worse than any workout you'd ever done.
"Nat, you're sick," you start as you tighten grip around her. By now, she was becoming increasingly close to getting herself out of your grip, and that would not be good for either of you. "You know what Tony's like with germs. And you need to be in bed. Preferably with some medicine and soup. Doesn't she lena?"
Before Yelena could get a word in edgeways, Natasha throws her head back, and it collides painfully with your nose. You immediately see stars at the action, your eyes burning with the familiar sensation of tears that immediately escape and fall down your cheeks.
Fucking hell that hurt. What was her head made of? Cement?!
Natasha, thankfully, seems unaware of what she'd done, but Yelena see's it and cackles. The elevator doors open, and without a word, you yank Natasha's legs out of her grip, set her down onto the floor, press a kiss to her head to let her know it wasn't her you were mad at before storming off.
"Y/n, no! I'm sorry." You hear Yelena cry. "Don't leave me here with her!!!"
It was your turn to laugh. Serves her fucking right.
A week later, you still had two black eyes.
6.
When the clock strikes one AM and there was still no sign of Natasha, you let out a quiet sigh and kick off the blankets before climbing out of bed. You shiver slightly at the coldness that greets you, pulling on the closest hoodie you could find. It just so happened to be one of the many oversized ones that Natasha's owns.
It falls to your mid thigh and just about covers your ass. You smile in amusement the sight, knowing that this very hoodie all but buries Natasha and falls to her knees.
With a fond eye roll at your tiny girlfriend, you leave the room with the intention of figuring out just where she'd disappeared off too. Instinct tells you she was in the very place you'd left her after heading to bed yourself about four hours ago, and when you reach her office, you figure yourself to be correct.
There Natasha was, still sat at her desk, glasses perched on her nose as her tired eyes flicker over her computer screen. Next to her sat at least three empty cups of coffee, and you sigh at the sight, knowing she'd done everything in her power to keep herself awake despite being exhausted.
Pushing the door open further, you step inside and lightly clear your throat to let your presence be known. Natasha looks up at the sound, her lips quirking up into a small smile at the sight of you in her clothes. It didn't happen often due to your size difference, but either way she absolutely adored it.
"Hi baby." she greets tiredly, and you hum as you step closer and perch yourself at the end of her desk. Her hand immediately settles on your thigh, and you set your own on top of it, trailing the pad of your thumb over the soft skin.
"Hi you. How are you getting on?" You decide not to bombard her with the why aren't you in bed question just yet, knowing it wouldn't do either of you any good.
Natasha sighs as she uses her free hand to pull off her glasses, setting them down next to her still open laptop, "Good. Nearly done actually." She tells you somewhat proudly, and you couldn't help but smile as you gently reach forward to cup her cheek before pressing your lips in a tender kiss against the spot between her eyebrows. Her eyes flutter closed at the gentle affection, allowing you to linger for a little while longer than normal.
"It's late pumpkin." Is all you say as you reluctantly pull away, gentle fingers tucking her hair behind her ear, and Natasha sighs quietly as she nods her head. Her eyes flicker between you and her computer, and you sense that maybe there was something she wants to say but can't quite bring herself to do so. Not wanting to push her, or able to read her mind much to your dismay, you simply perch yourself on her lap and wrap an arm around her shoulder.
Knowing this wasn't something you did frequently nor often, Natasha was quick to wrap her arms around your waist and tuck her head just beneath your chin. In response, you cup the back of her head with your free hand, nuzzling your nose against her hair and taking in the comforting smell of vanilla.
About fifteen minutes pass before you feel her breathing deepen signalling she was growing dangerously close to falling asleep, and knowing her bed would be much more comfortable than her chair, you kiss her head before pulling yourself away from her and rising to your feet.
Natasha looks up at you with an unhappy frown as she grabs the material of your hoodie and tugs in a futile attempt at pulling you back down to her lap.
"No baby," you shake your head as you pry her hands off of you, "let's go to bed, okay?" You attempt to coax, and Natasha let's out a rather quiet, unhappy whine as she attempts to reach for you again.
"Nat, baby, bed. Your chair won't be comfortable." You strive to persuade, bending down and cupping her face in your hands. Tired eyes blink back up at you for just a moment before she pouts and holds out her arms, and you go to take her hands, assuming she wanted your help standing up.
Natasha, however, frowns and shakes her head, only furthering your confusion.
"What is it, my love?"
You watch as hesitation peeks in through the sleepiness lingering in her eyes for just a moment before she swallows heavily and once again holds out her arms. Her lips part, a barely audible question slipping through.
"Carry me?"
It was said so quietly, so nervously it was obvious she was scared that you'd say no. Of course you'd never. Not once has she ever asked you to carry her before. Each and every time you'd done so, you'd been the one to initiate it and not a single complaint had ever slipped from her lips.
It leaves you to believe that maybe, just maybe, there had been many times she'd wanted to ask, but was simply just too scared. Heart melting, you place your hands underneath her armpits and tug her to feet.
"Of course I'll carry you baby. You never have to ask." You murmur, pressing a gentle kiss to her lips before bending down slightly and wrapping your arms beneath her behind. You stand, bringing her with you, and almost immediately her legs hook tightly around her waist, arms loose around your neck as her small hands tangle through the baby hair at the nape of your neck.
Keeping one of your arms beneath her for support, you rest the other across her back and begin to carry her out of the room.
"I love you." You hear her murmur, and you smile softly as you give her body a squeeze.
"I love you more than you could ever imagine."
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