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#wasn't a bad day just i have no idea what happened other than i was busy all day so
pumpkinbxtch · 1 day
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sumn about dionysus’s daughter and percy being obsessed w each other irks be in so kind of way, can i req something about it???
I would come back from death for you .⁠。⁠*⁠♡
— percy jackson x daughter of dionysus!reader
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warnings: none, i think
a/n: ok, here comes my confession. I don't know if this is something that counts as "obsession" as such because there are different types of it. I wanted it to be a more tender or cute obsession. I don't know, maybe I'll explore more but with a darker side.
The emotion was devouring him from the inside out. He knew he would be leaving in a few days, and even though he'd rather fight Hades himself than give his life on a silver platter, Percy couldn't help struggle with the thought of not being in your arms again.
— I'll go with you — you said, even though you knew it wouldn't happen. — I don't mind dying with you if it's the only way to keep us together.
Really, he wouldn't mind too, but he knew he had to keep you safe. Dionysus would never forgive him if anything happened to you, and to be honest, neither would he. You'd stay; that was the right thing.
The best deal he could get for now was to be together as much as possible until the day came.
You didn't say it, but it had become an obsession for each other. barely at night could separate to go to your respective cabins, and of course, not counting those times when you or he would sneak away to spend more time together. Some campers watched, they knew what was going on but still turned a blind eye because who were they to judge? Besides, it suited them to maintain the discretion or Dionysus would truly be in a bad mood, as having Percy Jackson as a son-in-law was enough for him.
That night, you had already turned off the lights, only the moonlight accompanied you, and you let out a deep grunt that turned into a gasp when you heard a knock on your door, you squinted your eyes and then heard two more knocks, three in total.
Obviously it was Percy, and you quickly got up before anyone could see him in front of your cabin. As soon as you opened, he slipped in between the door and closed it by pressing his heel. When you smelled the worn sunscreen on the curve of his neck, you let out a sigh; it was as if during the time you hadn't been together, you had been slowly holding your breath, suffocating without him.
— I missed you — he murmured, squeezing your body a little tighter. He placed a kiss on your shoulder and leaned back to look at you.
— It's only been an hour since dinner, Pers — you said, and he smiled at the nickname taking your hand to walk with you towards your bed. in the end, you were the only one to sit on the edge of it because percy stayed watching your bedside things, fiddling with and looking at your makeup.
— I'm leaving tomorrow — he said, still with his back to you as he struggled to read the label of a lipgloss, the one that suited you so well and that he never feared smudging when he kissed you.
Your heart raced. —Tomorrow? But...
— Things have changed, Chiron told me — Sadness and anger evident in his voice. Percy wanted to set the world on fire with Leo's help just because he hadn't had a couple more days with you. Instead, he took your perfume in his hands and brought it to his nose to smell it. Trying to imprint it in his memory, at least, until he returned and could smell it from your own body where it mixed with thousands of other scents resulting in your characteristic one. The one that drove him crazy.
That idea made him laugh, in fact you were the daughter of the man who could made men crazy with a snap of his fingers, so Percy believed you had done something similar to him, the only difference was that he was happy with it. He would jump blindfolded out of the grand canyon for you if you asked him to.
After a minute, he understood that your silence wasn't exactly a good thing, and he ran his fingers over the other beauty items on your wooden dresser, before turning towards you putting his weight on the dresser.
— Everything will be fine — he was convinced, but the tears threatening to fall from your eyes brought him to his knees before you, so quickly that you held back a sob seeing him on the floor raising his hands to caress your cheeks as if you were something religious that he was worshiping. Her turquoise eyes shone in the moonlight with empathy and they let you know that you had never felt that kind of religious love for which you would die until you had him.
Ugh, you were so in love with each other that it was ruthless to separate you even for just a little while.
You bent down to kiss him, and he stretched his neck to reach your lips desperately, without wanting to lose any piece of you.
—It will take much more than death to keep me from coming back to you— he whispered inches away from your lips, and you smiled because you knew he was serious about that.
With time on your shoulders, you settled on the bed, and he cuddled with you until you fell asleep while he stroked your hair and kissed you on the cheek; you had never felt so safe in someone's arms.
And it was in the morning, just after their last kiss, that your body began to ache for him and his absence. You returned to your cabin, cranky and teary-eyed, looking at the mess he had left on your dresser last night and smiled, recognizing your boyfriend's quirks, but little did you know that all Percy was doing was looking for things he could carry with him during his quest. Things that were yours and reminded him of what he had to fight for.
—Nice hair claw, Percy— Piper joked with a pink spark in her eyes, and he smiled proudly.
Leo dramatically put his hand on his chest and sighed loudly. — Better no one get in HIS – our – way because someone's waiting for him.
“Yeah, better not” he thought.
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I have a fluffy idea for once! No prompts from the list, just brain thoughts:
Adam has been staying in the hotel for a few months, very reluctant to participate at first, but slowly warming up to it. Him and Lucifer had a long conversation about Eden at some point, and since then they've gotten increasingly domestic with each other. While they're not openly in a relationship, they'll sleep in the same bed, have movie nights together, cook together, and be generally affectionate. They try to be subtle about it, but Husk and Angel both picked up on it rather quickly, choosing to keep it between the two of them that they knew.
Cut to the moment: Charlie set up a bonding activity for hotel residents! Ballroom dancing, to build teamwork, trust, and coordination. They switch partners a few times, but of course Luci and Adam end up together eventually. The two of them, having both been important figures in heaven at some point, definitely have ballroom dancing experience, and it shows when they dance with each other. Once the music reaches its end, they're so caught up in each other that they end it with a kiss... in front of everyone. Ensue dramatic reveals, probably some flustered Adam, Charlie being baffled, momentarily angry, and then just really enthusiastic. Them finally getting to be saccharinely domestic with others present :))
Feel free to do with that what you will, I just wanted some domestic fluff <3
Indigo (aroace, lonely, and coping through fictional ships)
AHHHHH I LOVE THIS!!! IT'S SO FLUFFY IM GONNA DIE! LOL
At first Adam was only at the hotel for salvation, to not be murdered a million times over by blood thirsty sinners who wanted revenge.
He tolerated Charlie and her stupid exercises, he was present for them but never really participated. Until one day he said to Hell with it and gave one of them a try. It wasn't bad, but still dumb in his opinion.
At some point he had befriended the porn star Angel Dust and by proxy his boyfriend Husk. Turns out they had a lot more in common than Adam originally thought. They would go out drinking and shoot the shit, it was nice to have friends.
Lucifer was an issue in and of himself. He sold his soul to the guy in exchange for protection and it had been awkward being around him in the beginning.
It's been six months now and Lucifer said he wanted to talk to him. Adam has thought he was in trouble for something he might have done.
But no. The king wanted to talk about Eden. REALLY talk about Eden. He even apologized for his role for the downfall of the garden. They sat on Lucifer's bed talking for hours about Eden, the good and the bad. When he even apologized about taking Lilith, Adam told him not to worry about it. It took him leaving the garden to realize she wasn't his type.
They talked so long they fell asleep. That was the first time they shared a bed and from then on, it felt weird NOT to. So they just shared a bed, it just kind of happened.
Adam remembers the first time they cooked together, it was breakfast with the works. That's kind of how he found out he is shit at cooking. So instead he would hand Lucifer the ingredients and the King would cook the food. He remembers when Lucifer placed his hands on his hips to sneak by and how the touch made Adams heart race.
Adam and Lucifer shared lingering touches that lasted a moment or two too long. How their eyes would lock and they would share gentle smiles when they thought no one was looking.
Angel and Husk saw all of this but didn't say a word. The couple would go public when they were ready.
One thing Adam could make was microwave popcorn. Which him and Lucifer shared as they watched horror movies, snuggled up on the couch, sharing a blanket with their fingers laced together underneath. Adam's head would rest in the crook of Lucifer's shoulder. Sometimes Adam would fall asleep and wake up in their bed.
They weren't exclusive with a defined label, but what they did have was nice.
Today, Charlie wanted to do a new trust exercise. "We'll be doing ballroom dancing! It's a great way to build trust and have fun at the same time. Now, everyone grab a partner. We'll trade off every now and then."
"Piece of cake." Adam said, he had lots of dancing experience from being in heaven. What he didn't expect was to be teamed up with Alastor first. "Keep your fucking hands where I can see them, asshole."
"Trust me, I don't want to touch you any more than you want me touching you." The music started and they began dancing. Adam saw Alastors eyes look over his shoulder, that's when the radio demon brought him in closer. His hand on Adams waist, the fallen angel thought he might be sick. "But if it pisses him off, I suppose I can suck it up."
Adam creased his brow and looked over his shoulder behind him. If looks could kill, Lucifer would have had the deer demon explode into chuck sized pieces. His face softened when he saw Adam looking at him.
"Switch!" Charlie called out.
Now Adam was dancing with Vaggie, much better than that freak. They didn't speak the whole time, which was fine.
"Switch!"
This time, finally Adam was pulled into Lucifer's arms. He smiled at him as they swayed together in perfect harmony, the music moving them. "Hey."
"Hey, did that asshole hurt you?"
Adam snorted. "No, that was just to piss you off." He felt Lucifers arm tighten around his waist bringing him closer. "But if I said yes, would you beat that fucker up?"
"I'd do it just because he touched you." Lucifer meant it, he didn't need a real reason to go deer hunting, but if that fucker laid a hand on Adam he'd kill him.
Adam felt his heart flutter, butterflies danced in his stomach. "I feel so special."
Lucifer twirled Adam outward and pulled him back in. "You are special. To me especially."
They stared into each other's eyes, Adam could get lost there forever. It's like nothing else existed but them. The music stopped but they didn't let go of one another. Adam and Lucifer kept eye contact a few moments more before Adam felt a hand in his hair, with half lidded eyes he looked at Lucifer's lips as he looked at Adam's. The hand in his hair guided him closer until their lips met in a tender kiss.
Adam opened his mouth when Lucifer's tongue licked at his lips asking for entrance and deepening the kiss. Adam sighed softly as the hand in his hair grazed the base of his horns, his own hands clung to Lucifer's shoulders holding him close.
"Dad what the fuck!?"
Adam and Lucifer pulled apart like they had been burned. Oh no! Everyone fucking saw them makeout like a couple of teenagers. They shared looks of shock. They never slipped up like this. They turned to see everyone looking at them with varying degrees of emotions.
"I fucking called it." Angel said looking smug, Husk handed him a twenty.
Adam felt like his face was on fire, embarrassment starting to set in. He was getting uncomfortable with everyone looking at him like a fucking zoo exhibit.
"Charlie I can explain." Lucifer started.
"Explain what? That you've been seeing Adam behind my back and didn't tell me? Cause that was a very passionate kiss."
Adam wanted to die a third time. He put his face in his hands. He was sure all the blood in his body was in his face. "God dammit." He swore under his breath.
"Charlie, dear. Don't be mad, I didn't want to say anything to you until I was sure how I felt."
"How do you feel?" She asked.
Lucifer removed one of Adams hands from his face, Adam looked at him and swore he melted at how gentle that look was. "I, I care a lot about him. Adam makes me happy in a way I haven't felt in a long time."
Adam felt the same way. "So do I." It came out just above a whisper, just for Lucifer to hear. His smile was so wide it hurt his face.
Charlie looked at them and her temper simmered away into nothing. Oh. "I'm glad you're happy dad. I just wish this wasn't how I found out about you guys."
"I'm sorry Char, we kinda, got lost in the moment."
"Like right now?" Angel chimed in. "For the record, you guys dance amazing together. I can only imagine what it looks like when you fu- ow! Husk!"
Husk had pinched him. "No one wants that mental picture."
"Are you mad?" Adam finally asked.
Charlie sighed. "All I want is for my dad to be happy. If that's with you, then so be it. Just don't hurt each other." That would be one hell of a break up.
"Thank you, Charlie." Lucifer said. He pulled Adam back in for another kiss, this one sweet and soft. Adam's heart raced and thrummed with joy.
"Get a room you two!" Angel yelled.
That they could definitely do.
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skrunksthatwunk · 6 days
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found out that rascal's owner took him again while i was out, and he's probably not gonna be back since the semester's almost over. i don't even know if his owner's coming back next semester, if i'll ever see him again. if he'll ever see me again. why do they wait until im not around to do this? why do they never let me say goodbye to him?
#i didnt really get to process it bc i found out when i was hanging w a friend but. im processing it now#sigh.. i dont know. i dont know.#at the end of the day he is and has always been someone else's cat. i can't control what she does with him#no matter what i think of it. she can always take him away. but every time it happens im just. im tired yknow?#it's worth it to me to have him around. i love him dearly and i want him to be in a home where he's actually cared for (which i have done my#best to provide) but he's just. not mine. and every time it happens i back up and think man. im such a sucker.#i don't think people manipulate me often. not in an ongoing way i mean. i don't think ppl see me as valuable enough to most of the time.#but damn. she really found my weak spots didn't she. free petcare courtesy of one chump who can't live without animals around. sigh#he deserves stability but he deserves love more. this weird shared custody thing is better for him i think. and frankly i also love him.#im not the priority here but my feelings are like. there. him being taken away without even telling me first hurts. i'd like to be able to#say goodbye to him. im not saying he has to stay or this has to go on but couldn't they just.. consider my feelings a bit more?#just bc you're fine with dropping your cat off somewhere for weeks not knowing when you'll see him again and not visiting doesn't mean i am#and i kind of feel like my roommate is part of this. after all it's not like his owner can just break into our room and take him#and if im always out when they do it there's a chance roomie's just shipping him off whenever she gets sick of him.#she's done it before. even after she agreed so vehemently with me about never wanting him to go back to such treatment and stuff early on.#she's been spraying him for little reason lately too. and i mean i get being a little more cautious with some things bc her neck's broken#but she's really fixated on how much he smells and bites and stuff and talks about how if i wasn't around she'd consider eating him#and then other times she's like that's my pookie. i don't get it. like yeah i tell rascal to fuck off sometimes bc he hurts me but it's not#like a hateful thing. i dont resent him for it i'm just annoyed sometimes bc he's maiming me a little. he's my baby. how could i loathe him?#so it makes me think that roomie might be blaming his transfers on his owner bc she doesn't want me to judge her#and like. this is her room too. it's not her fault she's more bothered by the smell than me. if she doesn't want to be bitten and clawed all#the time i can sympathize. i don't wanna force her to house him. but i wish she'd just be honest with me i guess#like. what if his owner decides to give him away without telling me? i'd take him in in a heartbeat. even though i know it's a bad idea.#but i'm worried he'll fall out of my reach completely. and at the very least I'd like to be able to say goodbye first. that's all.
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autismserenity · 3 months
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know someone who enjoys horror stories? share this one! it's true!
hahahahahahahahahaha aarrggghhhhhhhhhh 3,000,000 deaths due to COVID-19 last year. Globally. Three million. Case rates higher than 90% of the rest of the pandemic. The reason people are still worried about COVID is because it has a way of quietly fucking up your body. And the risk is cumulative.
I'm going to say that again: the risk is cumulative.
It's not just that a lot of people get bad long-term effects from it. One in seven or so? Enough that it's kind of the Russian Roulette of diseases. It's also that the more times you get it, the higher that risk becomes. Like if each time you survived Russian Roulette, the empty chamber was removed from the gun entirely. The worst part is that, psychologically, we have the absolute opposite reaction. If we survive something with no ill effects, we assume it's pretty safe. It is really, really hard to override that sense of, "Ok, well, I got it and now I probably have a lot of immunity and also it wasn't that bad." It is not a respiratory disease. Airborne, yes. Respiratory disease, no: not a cold, not a flu, not RSV.
Like measles (or maybe chickenpox?), it starts with respiratory symptoms. And then it moves to other parts of your body. It seems to target the lungs, the digestive system, the heart, and the brain the most.
It also hits the immune system really hard - a lot of people are suddenly more susceptible to completely unrelated viruses. People get brain fog, migraines, forget things they used to know.
(I really, really hate that it can cross the blood-brain barrier. NOTHING SHOULD EVER CROSS THE BLOOD-BRAIN BARRIER IT IS THERE FOR A REASON.) Anecdotal examples of this shit are horrifying. I've seen people talk about coworkers who've had COVID five or more times, and now their work... just often doesn't make sense? They send emails that say things like, "Sorry, I didn't mean Los Angeles, I meant Los Angeles."
Or they insist they've never heard of some project that they were actually in charge of a year or two before.
Or their work is just kind of falling apart, and they don't seem to be aware of it.
People talk about how they don't want to get the person in trouble, so their team just works around it. Or they describe neighbors and relatives who had COVID repeatedly, were nearly hospitalized, talked about how incredibly sick they felt at the time... and now swear they've only had it once and it wasn't bad, they barely even noticed it.
(As someone who lived with severe dissociation for most of my life, this is a genuinely terrifying idea to me. I've already spent my whole life being like, "but what if I told them that already? but what if I did do that? what if that did happen to me and I just don't remember?") One of its known effects in the brain is to increase impulsivity and risk-taking, which is real fucking convenient honestly. What a fantastic fucking mutation. So happy for it on that one. Yes, please make it seem less important to wear a mask and get vaccinated. I'm not screaming internally at all now.
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I saw a tweet from someone last year whose family hadn't had COVID yet, who were still masking in public, including school.
She said that her son was no kind of an athlete. Solidly bottom middle of the pack in gym.
And suddenly, this year, he was absolutely blowing past all the other kids who had to run the mile. He wasn't running any faster. His times weren't fantastic or anything. It's just that the rest of the kids were worse than him now. For some reason. I think about that a lot. (Like my incredibly active six-year-old getting a cold, and suddenly developing post-viral asthma that looked like pneumonia.
He went back to school the day before yesterday, after being home for a month and using preventative inhalers for almost week.
He told me that it was GREAT - except that he couldn't run as much at recess, because he immediately got really tired. Like how I went outside with him to do some yard work and felt like my body couldn't figure out how to increase breathing and heart rate.
I wasn't physically out of breath, but I felt like I was out of breath. That COVID feeling people describe, of "I'm not getting enough air." Except that I didn't have that problem when I had COVID.) Some people don't observe any long (or medium) term side effects after they have it.
But researchers have found viral reservoirs of COVID-19 in everyone they've studied who had it.
It just seems to hang out, dormant, for... well, longer than we've had an opportunity to observe it, so far.
(I definitely watched that literal horror movie. I think that's an entire genre. The alien dormant under ice in the Arctic.)
(oh hey I don't like that either!!!!!!!!!) All of which is to explain why we should still care about avoiding it, and how it manages to still cause excess deaths. Measuring excess deaths has been a standard tool in public health for a long time.
We know how many people usually die from all different causes, every year. So we can tell if, for example, deaths from heart disease have gone way up in the past three years, and look for reasons. Those are excess deaths: deaths that, four years ago, would not have happened. During the pandemic, excess death rates have been a really important tool. For all sorts of reasons. Like, sometimes people die from COVID without ever getting tested, and the official cause is listed as something else because nobody knows they had COVID. But also, people are dying from cardiovascular illness much younger now.
People are having strokes and heart attacks younger, and more often, than they did before the pandemic started. COVID causes a lot of problems. And some of those problems kill people. And some of them make it easier for other things to kill us. Lung damage from COVID leading to lungs collapsing, or to pneumonia, or to a pulmonary embolism, for example. The Economist built a machine-learning model with a 95% confidence interval that gauges excess death statistics around the world, to tell them what the true toll of the ongoing COVID pandemic has been so far.
Total excess deaths globally in 2023: Three million.
3,000,000.
Official COVID-19 deaths globally so far: Seven million. 7,000,000. Total excess deaths during COVID so far: Thirty-five point two million. 35,200,000.
Five times as many.
That's bad. I don't like that at all. I'm glad last year was less than a tenth of that. I'm not particularly confident about that continuing, though, because last year we started a period of really high COVID transmission. Case rates higher than 90% of the rest of the pandemic. Here's their data, and charts you can play with, and links to detailed information on how they did all of this:
Here's a non-paywalled link to it:
https://archive.vn/2024.01.26-012536/https://www.economist.com/graphic-detail/coronavirus-excess-deaths-estimates
Oh: here's a link to where you can buy comfy, effective N95 masks in all sizes:
Those ones are about a buck each after shipping - about $30 for a box of 30. They also have sample packs for a dollar, so you can try a couple of different sizes and styles.
You can wear an N95 mask for about 40 total hours before the effectiveness really drops, so that's like a dollar for a week of wear.
They're also family-owned and have cat-shaped masks and I really love them. These ones are cuter and in a much wider range of colors, prints, and styles, but they're also more expensive; they range from $1.80 to $3 for a mask. ($18-$30 for a box of ten.)
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cocklessboy · 10 months
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The biggest male privilege I have so far encountered is going to the doctor.
I lived as a woman for 35 years. I have a lifetime of chronic health issues including chronic pain, chronic fatigue, respiratory issues, and neurodivergence (autistic + ADHD). There's so much wrong with my body and brain that I have never dared to make a single list of it to show a doctor because I was so sure I would be sent directly to a psychologist specializing in hypochondria (sorry, "anxiety") without getting a single test done.
And I was right. Anytime I ever tried to bring up even one of my health issues, every doctor's initial reaction was, at best, to look at me with doubt. A raised eyebrow. A seemingly casual, offhand question about whether I'd ever been diagnosed with an anxiety disorder. Even female doctors!
We're not talking about super rare symptoms here either. Joint pain. Chronic joint pain since I was about 19 years old. Back pain. Trouble breathing. Allergy-like reactions to things that aren't typically allergens. Headaches. Brain fog. Severe insomnia. Sensitivity to cold and heat.
There's a lot more going on than that, but those were the things I thought I might be able to at least get some acknowledgement of. Some tests, at least. But 90% of the time I was told to go home, rest, take a few days off work, take some benzos (which they'd throw at me without hesitation), just chill out a bit, you'll be fine. Anxiety can cause all kinds of odd symptoms.
Anyone female-presenting reading this is surely nodding along. Yup, that's just how doctors are.
Except...
I started transitioning about 2.5 years ago. At this point I have a beard, male pattern baldness, a deep voice, and a flat chest. All of my doctors know that I'm trans because I still haven't managed to get all the paperwork legally changed, but when they look at me, even if they knew me as female at first, they see a man.
I knew men didn't face the same hurdles when it came to health care, but I had no idea it was this different.
The last time I saw my GP (a man, fairly young, 30s or so), I mentioned chronic pain, and he was concerned to see that it wasn't represented in my file. Previous doctors hadn't even bothered to write it down. He pushed his next appointment back to spend nearly an hour with me going through my entire body while I described every type of chronic pain I had, how long I'd had it, what causes I was aware of. He asked me if I had any theories as to why I had so much pain and looked at me with concerned expectation, hoping I might have a starting point for him. He immediately drew up referrals for pain specialists (a profession I didn't even know existed till that moment) and physical therapy. He said depending on how it goes, he may need to help me get on some degree of disability assistance from the government, since I obviously shouldn't be trying to work full-time under these circumstances.
Never a glimmer of doubt in his eye. Never did he so much as mention the word "anxiety".
There's also my psychiatrist. He diagnosed me with ADHD last year (meeting me as a man from the start, though he knew I was trans). He never doubted my symptoms or medical history. He also took my pain and sleep issues seriously from the start and has been trying to help me find medications to help both those things while I go through the long process of seeing other specialists. I've had bad reactions to almost everything I've tried, because that's what always happens. Sometimes it seems like I'm allergic to the whole world.
And then, just a few days ago, the most shocking thing happened. I'd been wondering for a while if I might have a mast cell condition like MCAS, having read a lot of informative posts by @thebibliosphere which sounded a little too relatable. Another friend suggested it might explain some of my problems, so I decided to mention it to the psychiatrist, fully prepared to laugh it off. Yeah, a friend thinks I might have it, I'm not convinced though.
His response? That's an interesting theory. It would be difficult to test for especially in this country, but that's no reason not to try treatments and see if they are helpful. He adjusted his medication recommendations immediately based on this suggestion. He's researching an elimination diet to diagnose my food sensitivities.
I casually mentioned MCAS, something routinely dismissed by doctors with female patients, and he instantly took the possibility seriously.
That's it. I've reached peak male privilege. There is nothing else that could happen that could be more insane than that.
I literally keep having to hold myself back from apologizing or hedging or trying to frame my theories as someone else's idea lest I be dismissed as a hypochondriac. I told the doctor I'd like to make a big list of every health issue I have, diagnosed and undiagnosed, every theory I've been given or come up with myself, and every medication I've tried and my reactions to it - something I've never done because I knew for a fact no doctor would take me seriously if they saw such a list all at once. He said it was a good idea and could be very helpful.
Female-presenting people are of course not going to be surprised by any of this, but in my experience, male-presenting people often are. When you've never had a doctor scoff at you, laugh at you, literally say "I won't consider that possibility until you've been cleared by a psychologist" for the most mundane of health problems, it might be hard to imagine just how demoralizing it is. How scary it becomes going to the doctor. How you can internalize the idea that you're just imagining things, making a big deal out of nothing.
Now that I'm visibly a man, all of my doctors are suddenly very concerned about the fact that I've been simply living like this for nearly four decades with no help. And I know how many women will have to go their whole lives never getting that help simply because of sexism in the medical field.
If you know a doctor, show them this story. Even if they are female. Even if they consider themselves leftists and feminists and allies. Ask them to really, truly, deep down, consider whether they really treat their male and female patients the same. Suggest that the next time they hear a valid complaint from a male patient, imagine they were a woman and consider whether you'd take it seriously. The next time they hear a frivolous-sounding complaint from a female patient, imagine they were a man and consider whether it would sound more credible.
It's hard to unlearn these biases. But it simply has to be done. I've lived both sides of this issue. And every doctor insists they treat their male and female patients the same. But some of the doctors astonished that I didn't get better care in the past are the same doctors who dismissed me before.
I'm glad I'm getting the care I need, even if it is several decades late. And I'm angry that it took so long. And I'm furious that most female-presenting people will never have this chance.
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malkaviian · 1 year
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expanding on the "luca was bullied" thing, because i knew i was going to give this guy some trauma eventually
#oc talk#kinda classic but he was always a shy and soft-spoken guy- and that made him an easy target for bullies who wanted to mess with someone#i imagine it wasn't an everyday thing though; more likely they would let him 'rest' and then suddenly attack#and it could turn very severe. but he never said anything to anyone because he thought it wasn't that bad and that he could handle it#things got worse when he started to be himself though-- he didnt felt comfortable using '''girl''' clothes yet but he would like#use cute stickers on his face or draw stars or hearts under his eye with eyeliner or have pink school supplies-- that type of stuff#so they saw him as even 'weaker' and well the bullying got worse to the point one day he came back home with a bruise#because he was beaten up after school. his dad got worried and immediately talked about with the director but luca was too scared to talk#so he just said it was an one time thing and that he probably deserved it-- alongside saying his pale skin probably made the bruise#look worse than it was; alongside not really specifying who were the ones that did it. honestly the school didnt really cared that much#so they just allowed him to stay at home for a week and then come back. but he was anxious that entire week about the consequences#plus his dad asking several questions about it bc obviously he was extremely worried!! but luca just avoided them all or give vague answers#when he came back not a lot happened in a month-- but he was always on the edge and tried to be as quiet as possible#until one day after school they grabbed him and locked him the boys bathroom; although the original idea was the girls bathroom#just to add an extra. they also told him not to make any noise and he did in fact stayed silent for half an hour#until he realized he was literally all alone and locked in a bathroom stall and started to cry. no one would listen anyway.#to make it short he was about to call someone he was somewhat friends with but his dad called him first as he was getting worried#after an hour passed and he still wasnt home. luca went sometimes to a shopping mall somewhat near the school to get something to eat#but he would always tell his dad about it so he wouldnt worry. and well hearing his son cry on the other side of the screen made it worse#even more bc luca was babbling and couldnt form sentences. after he calmed down a bit though he told him what happened#luckily everything ended up alright and he didnt had to spend the whole night in there but you know. the trauma was now there#and thats why hes claustrophobic now!#bullying tw
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dcxdpdabbles · 3 months
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DC X DP Fanfic idea: It's all Fun and Games Kids!
Danny Fenton moves to Gotham.
He moved there not because his parents ran him out of the house. His dad was bawling and begging him to stay while his mother spent three full days writing up different graphs to show how much safer was by nearing by so they could protect him.
(It's not like he still lived with them. Danny had moved out to his own place in amity when he was twenty-five. Moving clear across state lines wasn't much of a difference in his eyes)
He moved there, not because the ectoplasm was high. Ectoplasm is everywhere on Earth, and quite frankly, Gotham's was as polluted as its water was. It made the air spicy.
He moved there not because he was offered an amazing job or a life-changing opportunity. Danny's full-time job was writing novels. They were all based on his adventures in the Ghost Zone -with changed names of course- and were a hit online. He also had all of the Ghost King's gold.
He moved there simply because Danny wanted to.
Something about the city called to him, in a way that said "Hey this could be your home." He visited once for a Humpty Dumpty concert and fell in love with the sights, the people, and the life of Gotham.
Now some people would accuse him of being mad. Those people probably had a rebellious teenage stage where they had done crazy things like sneak out of the house, underage drink, sleeping around, or smoke something.
Danny, when he was a teenager, was fighting for his life and the lives of the ungrateful townspeople.
He didn't get to his rebellious stage. He didn't get his rush of doing something stupid because he was young and thought himself bigger than life.
So here Danny is, living his life as he pleases to make up for it.
He doesn't have to sneak out of his house since he owns it, he rather not drink or smoke (would they even affect him? His healing factor has never been tested against it) and Danny would like to be emotionally attached if he decided to sleep with someone.
What then does a man with too much time, too much power, and not enough bad young person decisions do?
He flirts with Death.
Death just so happens to be Batman-shaped.
Now it's all fun and games. He knows he doesn't have a real chance with Batman- it's Batman. Way out of Danny's league.- but that doesn't mean he can allow himself to fall into stupid situations and be dramatically rescued by the crime fighter.
Now if only his kids weren't so good at their jobs.
"You really should be more careful, Mr. Fenton. This is the third time this week" Nightwing says while untieing him. Danny does his best not to pout at the other. He had been having fun finding the answers to the riddles.
He wasn't at all worried about the fact he was placed over a pool of burning chemicals. He had been tried to a chair that was carefully balanced on overlapping ropes. It wire would snap with each correct answer, until he would fall his demise unless they could outsmart the Riddler.
Danny had gotten five out of ten correct before Nightwing burst through the ceiling.
"I don't mind," Danny says rubbing his wrists. "Better me than someone innocent."
Nightwing's lips purse "You are innocent."
"Yes, but I hardly matter in the grand scheme of things." Danny waves his hand missing the look of distress on the hero's face. He looks around the darkness of the ceiling hoping to spot a certain crouching figure.
"Is Tall Dark and Daddy here with you?" He asks Nightwing when he fails to see him.
"Please don't call him that."
Danny shrugs, suppressing his smile. He twirls back around to Nightwing pulling out a piece of paper from his jean's pocket. "By the way, I found the other victims, hid them in the cellar, and drew a of map of Riddle's bombs for you. You're welcome."
Nightwing stares before carefully taking the map. He taps his ear twice, muttering in a code- for that may be English but sounded like gibberish that it can not be anything else but code- and only after he hears a voice respond back does the hero give a strained smile. "Thank you, Mr. Fenton. This helps a lot."
"You're welcome!" He repeats with a bright smile. It's so odd for his efforts to be appreciated. Odd but nice.
Danny waits for the other to do his Bat-trained disappearing act- sometimes he wonders if Gotham gave her Knights a form of invisibility- but the man remains.
He shuffles his feet uncomfortable and Danny's eyes light up. Oh! Another attempt to get him to stop flirting with his father. What fun~!
"Mr. Fenton.....last week Red Robin rescued you from the Joker. Do you remember?"
"Yes. Red Robin is a great kid."
"A kid....weird for you to call him that when he's only a few years younger than you." Nightwing starts but Danny holds up a hand.
"I'm older than you"
There is a tight frown on the other man's face now. "You are not."
"I am." Danny pulls out his wallet flashing his ID card. The downside to his Ghostly powers is that he seems to be aging at a slower rate- at least physically. His parents theorized that he would take two years instead of the one that his aging required. Not an accurate number but the closest they had especially since both his parents were late bloomers and had baby face.
While Danny might be thirty-eight he appeared to be no older than nineteen.
"Mr. Fenton I don't think you should be carrying a fake-"
"Stay away from my father Harlot!" Robin screeches falling down from the shadows above. He points a very sharp sword at Danny's neck, sneering the whole time. "He has better things to do than rescue a love-struck worthless fool!"
Danny, leans on the top of the sword, eyes drinking into Robin's slight flinch when it cuts his skin a little. This is it. The Rush he had been craving for.
"I don't mean to be kidnapped Robin honest. It just sort of happens in Gotham." He makes his voice and body innocent in a way even Orphan can not tell he is lying. He knows because Clockwork confirmed the last time they met that the girl read his body language just as he wanted her to.
The two ghosts met up regularly to watch his overly "sweet" eyes fluttering and cheerful "Oh Batman you rescued me~!" performances together for a good laugh.
"You lie! You plan for this to happen to try and seduce my Father!"
Huh. The kid was smarter then his foul mouth and snobby behavior looked. Still Danny only had to twist his face into confusion for Nightwing to step in. The other vigilantes pulled the scowling child away, scolding him for harassing frightened civilians.
It was fun to see but nothing beat making polite come-ons to Batman- nothing gross like catcalling but more of overly thankful and dreamy sighs. Maybe he should see what Two-face is up to?
Surely the man would take him hostage and Batman's many children would be too busy to save him thus leading the Dark Knight himself to come to his aid.
Or in a world where Danny Fenton decides that it would be hilarious if he took on a Brucie Wayne persona in Gotham. Complete with a Heart-eyes-it's-beefy-Batman mentality that tricks the Batfam into thinking he is a Himbo who has bad luck for always getting caught up in villain schemes for being at the wrong place and wrong time.
Also, the Bat kids make it their life goal to keep Bruce from rescuing Danny since they do not like watching Fenton flirt with their dad. Even if Bruce himself ignores the boy they can't really threaten him.
Danny Fenton isn't being malicious or anything. He's just a boy with a crush who doesn't know better.
Clockwork is cackling, recording his favorite parts of Danny's interactions with the Bats.
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Burns Like Rum
Ship: Astarion x female!human!reader/Tav
Summary: Astarion's hunger worsens every day and you don't have any blood to spare—but that doesn't stop you from inadvertently tempting him at every turn. Luckily for both of you, you've both got the same idea to cure him of his hunger.
Word Count: 7,840 words
Warnings: sexual content (18+), menstruating reader, hungry Astarion, mutual pining, possibly OOC dialogue, vampire feeding, soft Astarion, no particular timeline but Astarion hasn't told you anything yet
18+ Warnings: period sex, fingering, oral (f receiving), hand job, bite kink, blood kink, aftercare, use of the words cunt & cock
Note: For my usual readers, more Stranger Things content is coming, I promise! But this bitey boy currently owns my heart so I'm gonna show him some love :)
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☟ Continue below the fold ☟
Astarion was hungry, and it was entirely your fault, for more than one reason.
The first was that, almost a month ago now, you had let Astarion drink from you. He'd been starving, and it didn't help that the others had given him strict rules about feeding, so when he flashed those sad but gorgeous red eyes at you, complaining of hunger, you'd all but gifted him your neck.
He'd practically drained you that night. You had been weak for days. Of course, the others, namely Gale and Lae'zel, were furious with you for letting him drink from you, but the sated, content look on his face after feeding made it all worth it to you. He'd become more comfortable around you after that, too, and you'd considered that an improvement.
It hadn't been all that bad, really, for him to sink his teeth into you and drink until your grip on him had grown so weak that he'd let up to check on you. In fact, it had been...rather pleasant. He'd been gentle, careful, his bite sharp but considerate. You knew then that you'd risk becoming anemic for a week just to feel the pleasure of his hand cradling your neck and head, his mouth against your neck, his tongue soothing the bite he'd left when he'd had his fill.
But in the weeks that followed, his hunger gradually returned, and with a vengeance. It was as if he'd never fed from you at all, suffering hunger pangs he hid from the others—but you noticed, recognizing them from the night he'd begged you to let him drink from you.
You'd offered him more of your blood since then, but he'd refused you every time. He could smell your guilt, your need to make him feel better simply because you felt responsible for his current pain.
"I won't accept blood from someone who feels obligated to give it to me," he'd said, and his tone made it difficult to tell if he was being snide or kind.
Sometimes, you simply didn't understand that man.
And then three days ago, you'd been injured in a fight. It was nothing fatal, the gash in your midsection missing any major muscles and not deep enough to jeopardize your organs, but it was bloody. You'd limped your way back to camp, your head swimming, the world around you growing darker around the edges with every step.
You'd fainted in Astarion's arms—although collapsed was a better word for it, according to Karlach—drenched in blood, some of which was yours and some of which that wasn't.
"You should have seen his face!" Karlach had laughed when you'd woken up the next morning, woozy but fine thanks to Shadowheart. The blood loss kept you off your feet for the day to recover, and Karlach had taken the time to visit you.
"What do you mean?" you asked, although you already had a good idea what might have happened after you passed out.
"You put him in a right pickle, collapsing on him like that, all covered in blood and losing more of it quickly," she said. "He didn't know what to do with you. It was— It was like he didn't want to drop you, but he really did want to drop you, because all he wanted to do was drink from you. Can't say as I blame him—he's not fed in weeks and you turn up with his next meal draining out of you." You hid your face in your hands with a groan. "Why'd you beeline for him anyway? Shadowheart's tent was just a few paces away!"
You glared at her through your fingers. "You know why I went to him, Karlach!" She, of all people, would understand. She had been the first person to find out that, as much as you flirted with them all, Astarion was the one you wanted.
"Well, obviously," she said, "but it didn't occur to you that he might...have an adverse reaction?"
Rolling your eyes, you snarked, "No, Karlach, it didn't, I was bleeding out and suffering from head trauma. I just...saw someone I trusted to keep me safe and ran to him."
She cocked her head to the side. "That's sweet, but stupid."
You snorted. "Yeah, I know—Shadowheart won't stop yelling at me for it."
You hadn't seen Astarion until that night, when the group of you had gathered at the campfire. It hadn't meant to be like that; you'd seen him and had wanted to talk to him, at least apologize for throwing your bloody body at him, but Shadowheart followed you closely to keep you safe and soon the others had gathered.
It had been like a very strange family dinner, made awkward by everyone dancing around exactly why you'd gone to Astarion, knowing a hungry vampire and fresh blood were not a good mix.
The final reason you were making his hunger unbearable made itself known at the end of the night, when it was just you, Astarion, and Shadowheart at the dying fire.
She must have caught sight of the way you kept looking at Astarion out of the corner of your eye, embarrassedly looking away or pretending to gaze into the trees behind him every time he caught you looking. She tapped your shoulder and told you she needed to get rest. The "you should, too" was implied, hanging in the air along with her worry about your healing.
"I'm fine, Shadowheart, really," you insisted. "I won't rip myself open again, I promise."
"I'll keep an eye on her," Astarion promised. "Nothing too...strenuous for her just yet." Something in his voice made you shiver.
She left the two of you alone. You looked first at the fire, then down at your hands, folded in your lap. Anywhere than at him.
You didn't even hear him move. You only knew he had when you felt him sit on the log beside you, one of his hands covering your own.
"Are you alright?" he asked, his voice soft. "I...am sorry I didn't visit you, it's just—"
"It's just that I threw myself at you when it looked like I'd taken a shower in blood and that made things a wee bit difficult?" you interrupted, the words spilling out before you had time to process that you were speaking. Embarrassed heat flushed through you instantly.
But Astarion only gave you that soft, slightly toothy smile. You drank it in, relishing his smile lines and the brief contentment on his face. "Something like that, yes," he said. "I was...worried I might hurt you if I saw you again and you still smelled so deliciously of your blood. I'm so hungry, darling, it's unbearable. All I wanted was to feast until there was nothing left of you, and I'd never forgive myself if I—"
"Stop." You held up your hand. "Please. I don't... Don't be so nice to me, it makes me feel like I'm on my deathbed."
Astarion laughed, throwing his head back. "I'd hardly call wanting to drain you nice, my love." Almost unconsciously, your gaze dipped to his exposed neck and you wondered idly what he would do if you were to bite him back.
Probably the strenuous activity Astarion had promised Shadowheart you wouldn't be doing.
He met your gaze, a sudden depth and seriousness in his crimson stare. "Stick with me, and you might soon be on your deathbed." Pointedly, he broke eye contact with you, letting his eyes drop first to your neck and then further down your body. You tingled, the feeling reminiscent of the anemia that had possessed your body in the hours and days after he'd drank from you.
You realized Astarion was waiting for a reaction from you, hoping for something more than your stunned silence. So you let your eyes drift across his body, resting on his mouth as you said, "Doesn't sound like a bad way to go out."
From the back of his throat came a sound that wasn't quite a growl or a groan, but somewhere in between, just as needy as either sound. "Don't tempt me, darling," he whispered. "I promised Shadowheart I'd keep you safe, and you certainly wouldn't be if I did everything I want."
Your heart skipped a beat. "Astarion..."
He closed his eyes, leaning toward you, releasing a tense breath. "Darling..."
"What if I want to tempt you?" You put your hand on his leg, sliding closer to him.
"Cheeky thing," he said, eyes opening in small slits. "But only when you're healed. I can still smell the blood on you." He sighed. "You have no idea how much restraint it takes not sink my teeth into that pretty neck of yours."
You frowned. "But I am healed," you said. "Just tender. Shadowheart wouldn't have let me leave her tent otherwise."
"I can't blame you for wanting me," Astarion teased, that familiar charm honeying his words, "but I've never been wrong." He cupped your cheek, his touch taking the bite out of his words. He offered you a small, sympathetic smile.
You put your hand to your abdomen, half-expecting to find that your wound had ripped open of its own accord. Your shirt and the bandage beneath it was dry—but a sudden twinge of pain, appearing only once it had been acknowledged, came from lower. You hissed.
Astarion sat up straighter. "What is it? Are you alright?"
"Shit. I think I've figured out why you still smell blood," you said through clenched teeth.
Astarion's eyes dipped to where your hand rested. "It's that time again already, is it?"
"It's early," you groaned. You stood slowly, regretting it instantly.
He tracked you as you moved, his gaze becoming dangerous and predatory. It was the look that had scared you when he drank from you, practically convincing you he wasn't going to stop. Still, his need for you burned through you like rum, its heat spreading through your belly.
"I didn't smell it before, not under all the blood you had on you," he said. His voice was deep, dark, dangerous. "But, oh, darling—I smell it now." He licked his lips and your stomach did flips that were neither pleasant or unpleasant. The hunger in his eyes was palpable
"I, ah, have to go. For your sake and mine. Um. So, uh, goodnight, Astarion. I...I'll see you when this is all over."
He stood up quickly. "Darling, do you need—" He cut himself off as you waved away his concern, crossing the camp to your own tent.
"No! Goodnight!" you called over your shoulder.
Astarion sighed. "...Night."
~❊~
You avoided Astarion like the plague. Well, perhaps not, because while you never wanted to see the disease, you were always on the lookout for your favorite vampire.
You caught glimpses of him through the open flaps of your tent, sauntering by with a swagger you found unfairly attractive. You saw him reading on his own when Shadowheart helped you changed your bandages, his handsome face fixed in concentration. A few hours later, you heard him arguing with Gale about the very same book, which had apparently gone missing, and you hated the flutter in your stomach at the growl in his angry voice.
"Stop that," Karlach said, glancing up at you as the pair of you cooked, Karlach helping you roast root vegetables evenly.
"Stop what?"
"Mooning over him," she said, jerking her head in Astarion's direction.
Your body flushed with heat. "I'm not—"
"You are, and we can all tell, and you should just get it over with, but only if you mean it."
You frowned, tearing your eyes away from the blessed sight that was Astarion basking in the sun. "Sorry, what?"
Karlach sighed. "If you sleep with him—" You spluttered. "—it had better be because you truly want him and not because you're bleeding."
You blinked at her. "Karlach, of course I want him, you've heard me talk about him before this!"
"I know, I know," she relented, "but I have a feeling there's more to our vampire than meets the eye." She glanced over at Astarion. "Just...be kind to him, dear. He's more fragile than he looks."
You followed her gaze over to him. He was stretching, his arms lifted high above his head, undoubtedly oblivious to the two of you watching him. Want and need bubbled up inside of you, both clamoring for Astarion, agreeing that he would fulfill them both. The deep-seated lust you'd had for him since he'd first put a knife to your neck burned even brighter as the breeze that had been kicking up dust all morning played with the silver hair curling around his ears.
His nostrils flared and you knew he'd smelled you. He looked over at you and Karlach and you froze. She waved cheerily, then frowned at you when you didn't move. You swallowed harshly and went back to removing the scales from the fish in your lap.
"He doesn't like not being around you either, you know," Karlach said, returning to the task at hand. "He's always looking at you when you're not looking. You're perfect for each other like that."
"I don't want to make this harder for him by being around him," you said, glancing back over at him. He was watching you as he poured himself a glass of wine. Had it been normal circumstances, when you weren't driving him insane simply by smelling like blood, you would have teased him for day-drinking. "He's already so hungry, I'd only make that worse. It was bad enough I threw myself at him covered in his favorite snack!"
Karlach snorted. The sound of a light laugh floated over to you and you looked up to find Astarion smirking into his goblet. He beckoned you over and your eyes grew wide.
"Excuse me for a moment, Karlach," you said, clearing your throat.
Karlach followed your gaze and giggled. "More than a moment, dear. I'll come back later to help you finish this." She left the log you'd been sharing and you waited until she was in her own tent again before you jumped to your feet and practically ran to Astarion.
"Hello, darling," he purred. "Care for a drink?"
"I could go for a little," you said.
Astarion smiled, that rakish charm summoning warmth that spread through your entire body. "I hope you like red," he said, and put his own goblet to your lips.
You held his gaze as you drank. You saw his nostrils flare, his pupils growing large. You knew he could hear how your heart was racing, could smell your arousal mixing with your blood.
He pulled the goblet away from your lips and took another swig. You licked the red wine off your lower lip and heard the breath catch in his chest.
"You're starving, aren't you?"
"You have no idea," he whispered.
"I might," you said. "Thought I'd say it's a hunger of a different kind."
Astarion's smirk was so wide you could see his fangs clearly. "Oh, really, darling?"
You nodded, taking a step closer to him. He breathed in deeply. "We could help each other, you know. Satiate our hungers."
His eyes grew dark, trained on yours. "Is that so?" He raised his hand, nearly brushing your cheek, but stopped himself just before he touched you. "You'd let me soothe your pain by..." His gaze dropped to your waistline. "...eating from you?"
A tremor passed through you at the sound of his voice, deeper than you'd ever heard it, laced with a danger and a seduction you were embarrassed to find attractive. Your body was tuned to it, his words seeming to drop like a stone from your ears to your core, spreading fire through your veins and melting your organs.
Astarion took a small step closer to you and took your chin in three gentle fingers, tilting your head up toward him. For a moment, you thought he might kiss you then and there. "I'm going to need an answer, darling."
"Yes." You couldn't get the word out fast enough. It came out breathy, nearly lost on the wind still swirling between you.
He chuckled. "Well, then. You asked for it." He dropped the hand on your chin back to his side. "Once everyone else is asleep, come find me. We'll find a quiet place and...have a little fun."
~❊~
Of all the nights, it had to be this one where everyone came to check on you before they went to sleep. Thanks to Astarion avoiding you like the plague when the two of you had become inseparable, your monthly bleed had become public knowledge. So practically everyone in camp came to you with solutions you declined, claiming to feel fine, even though your pain had worsened over the course of the day.
You watched Astarion slink off into the forest after the sun had gone down and waited until the others were sequestered in their tents, nearly an hour later, to pull your boots back on, stand on shaky feet, and follow the path you assumed he'd taken.
You had started to believe you'd taken a wrong turn somewhere when you heard his cool voice from behind you: "There you are. I've been waiting."
Astarion stepped out of the shadows. He ran his gaze over you, observing your slightly hunched stance, your hand on your lower abdomen. Your shoulders relaxed at the sight of him; he looked softer in the moonlight. The silver light fell across his curls and the statuesque panes of his face, somehow making that face that was so gaunt with hunger unbelievably beautiful.
He looked like a poet or a god, even in just the simple shirt he insisted on wearing around camp instead of the finer silks you knew he carried with him. Or perhaps it was the simplicity that made him so godly. You couldn't tell.
A frown graced his brow. "The pain is worse now, isn't it?"
You nodded. "Just a bit."
Astarion left the small hill he stood on and came closer to you. He offered you his hand. "Come on, dear, let me make you feel better."
You let him guide you away from the path you had taken and into a small clearing just a few feet away, conveniently hidden by thickets, trees, and tall grass. He stood aside, letting you take it in for a moment, as if waiting for your approval of the place. You looked down at the mossy ground and decided it would be soft enough.
"Well, this is nice," you said, seconds before you heard fabric rustling. You turned and blinked rapidly at what you saw: Astarion, his shirt now off and in his hands. You watched him lay it down where the ground was most level. Your breath caught horribly in your throat at the sight of the scar covering his back. You fought back the urge to ask, knowing it would only piss him off.
He turned back to you with a smile. "Your bed for the evening, my love," he said, gesturing to it.
"Oh, Astarion, I can't, I don't want to get blood on your shirt. What would the others—"
Astarion cupped your face in one hand. "The others will assume I hunted something and got messy," he said. "And I'll enjoy your scent while I have it."
Flutters in your stomach nearly brought you to your knees. You looked up at him, drawing in a tiny breath, and brought your hand up to hold the wrist that cradled your cheek.
"Please," you whispered, unsure of exactly what you were begging for but knowing what you wanted.
"Promise me you'll tell me if...I'm too much," Astarion said, and you got the sense he'd changed what he was going to say.
You nodded, whispering your promise, and wound your free hand into the hair at the nape of his neck, standing on your tiptoes to push your lips to his.
It was a messy first kiss. It was little more than teeth and spit, but it felt like heaven anyway, because his free arm was winding around your waist and pressing your bodies together, his leg sliding between yours. Bliss spread through you, starting at your core.
Astarion pulled away from you. "Someone's eager, isn't she?"
You whimpered and he stifled it with another kiss, softer than the first. He was gentle, more than you'd expected from a starving man. He cupped the back of your head and your hand dropped to his hip. You opened your mouth to him and reveled in the feeling of his tongue sliding against yours. He made a soft sound of satisfaction and pushed his leg up against your clothed core. You moaned loudly, your grip on him tightening. Need flooded you and your hips pushed down on his leg, finding relief in the pressure.
The two of you pressed your foreheads together, breathing heavily.
"Shh, darling, not too loud. You don't want the others to come investigate, do you?" His cheeky tone suggested he would love it if the others found the two of you like this—or, perhaps, further along.
You wrapped both arms around his neck and buried your head into his shoulder, heat burning through you, a mix of embarrassment and pleasure. You felt like there was a pendulum inside you, swinging constantly between wanting to slow down, afraid of coming off as too eager, and desperately needing him to get to it.
Astarion chuckled. "Don't hide, love." He smoothed his hand over your hair. "You do trust me, don't you?"
You kissed his shoulder and heard his breath catch. "With my life, Astarion."
"Are you ready?"
You nodded and he walked you over to his shirt and helped you to sit on it. He watched you lay down, his gaze falling your exposed neck. There was something more than hunger in his eyes; it made your breathing hitch.
Astarion crawled over you and placed his hand underneath your head before he kissed you. You draped your arm over his shoulders, holding him close to you, enjoying the soft touch of his lips against yours. It was chaste, as were the next few that followed it in quick succession, one after the other.
One hand slid down your body and stopped at the hem of your trousers. He tugged at the shirt tucked into them. "Darling? May I?"
"Please do," you said.
"Arms up."
He pulled the fabric over your head and tossed it to the side. He looked down at your torso from where he straddled your hips. His hands skimmed over you and he leaned down, pressing more gentle kisses to your neck and collarbones. Your body tingled with remembrance, practically yearning to feel his fangs sink into your neck, to feel your blood leave you with a burning that felt like intoxication.
"Astarion." His name was a breathy cry on your lips, and you saw how much he liked the sound of it when he looked up at you, a smile curving onto the lips still pressed to your skin.
"Yes, dear?"
You gently coaxed him back up to you with your hand on his chin. "Let me kiss you."
He smiled, brighter than the moonlight falling around you, and you pressed your mouth to his. He hummed happily into your mouth, a pleasant sensation that made you reluctant to break the kiss. But you did, kissing along his jaw and down his neck instead. You nipped gently at his neck, pulling a surprised laugh from him.
"Really, darling? Biting the vampire?" Astarion's eyes were sparkling with amusement. His face had relaxed into an easy smile. It was a good look on him; you liked it.
You giggled and placed another kiss over the bite. The pair of you rolled onto your sides and you peppered his chest with kisses, your arm wrapped loosely around his waist. You went back up to his neck and sucked lightly.
"So much for the others not knowing," he teased.
You looked at him through your lashes. "What if I want them to know?"
"Cheeky little thing," he whispered, dragging a finger down the side of your face. "As much as I love this—and believe me, I do love this—I can't wait any longer. I'm starving, darling. Let me taste you. Please."
Slightly subdued, you rolled onto your back. "Alright," you whispered, your chest tightening in anticipation.
Astarion climbed on top of you again. He undid the laces at the front of your trousers and slipped his hand inside them, moving slowly and keeping his eyes locked on yours.
The moment two of his fingers slid between your wet folds, your eyes fluttered shut and a happy sigh slipped from your lips.
"There she is," he whispered, his eyes half-lidded, as he worked you gently and slowly. You felt the blood and arousal gather on his fingers as he grew closer to your entrance. He dragged them back up to your clit and rubbed in a slow circle. You gasped, arching into his touch. Astarion giggled. "Oh, you like that, don't you?"
You wriggled underneath him, trying everything in your power to get more of his touch. He smiled down at you, kissing your cheek and cooing softly at you. If he spoke words, you didn't hear them, too lost in the pleasure he easily, skillfully, brought to you.
Without warning, Astarion plunged both fingers into your entrance. You moaned, grabbing at his hair. He chuckled, curling his fingers inside you. Whimpers slipped past your lips; you couldn't have controlled them if you tried, but you were by no means trying. His smile grew with every sound you made, and you wanted nothing more than to see that smile.
Just as suddenly as he'd pushed his fingers in, he pulled them out. You whined instantly but he shushed you and removed his hand from your pants. A small streak of blood was left on the skin of your stomach as he raised his hand to his mouth. You watched raptly as he licked your blood from his fingers, never once breaking eye contact with you.
He wasn't even touching you and the fire in your belly grew at the sight.
Astarion moaned softly around his fingers. You watched his deft tongue catch every drop of blood, thinned by your arousal, from his hand. He whispered your name in a whine and you let go of a long breath.
Once he'd licked his fingers clean, he bent down and yanked your trousers off your legs. You spread them automatically and he put one leg between them. He pulled off your undergarments and sat back, admiring your naked body with a satisfied smirk.
"Look at you," he whispered.
The need for him to touch you won out over the desire for him to keep staring at you. "Astarion." His name was a loud whine, emphasized by your writhing hips.
He chucked. "Needy girl." His hand returned to your cunt, his palm applying pressure to your clit while his fingers toyed with your bloody folds. His eyes practically rolled into the back of his head, the smell of blood so heady even you could smell it.
He teased your entrance for a moment and pulled his fingers back up, the tips of them coated in thick blood that looked black in the night. He sucked it from his fingers with a toothy smile, his fangs peeking out over his bottom lip.
You pushed your hips up enough to catch his eye. "Please," you whimpered.
"Alright, love, alright," he said. He put his hand back and slipped his fingers back inside you. Relief curled through you—as did his fingers. "I'll starve myself a bit longer for your pleasure."
You cupped his neck and brought his face to yours and kissed him fiercely. He made a surprised but pleased sound into your mouth and quickened his pace. You gasped against his lips and he ducked his head to your neck, kissing you quickly with every curl of his fingers.
You twisted your fingers through his hair, rapidly kissing the top of his head, pushing your hips up into his hand. He chuckled, his breath ghosting over your skin and raising goosebumps. You shuddered in his arms.
"I've got you," he murmured, sucking a light mark into your neck. You felt his teeth prick you and saw the shudder that passed through his body at the tiny droplets of blood that appeared.
He pulled away from your neck and curled his fingers just so. You groaned.
"Astarion!" you cried, throwing your head back.
He grinned and quickened his pace. You sucked in a deep breath, fighting back tears of pleasure.
"Let go, darling," he whispered. "I've got you."
Astarion looked back down at your neck. He locked eyes with you as he pressed his tongue to your skin, slowly licking up the droplets as they began to run down your neck. The combination of his intense stare and the movement of his fingers was all you needed; with a loud cry, you came on his fingers, your walls clenching so hard around him he could hardly keep moving them.
He chuckled. "That's it, dear, that's it." He cooed softly, helping you through it with his voice, his soft touch, and gentle kisses to your lips.
You were breathing hard when he finally pulled his fingers out of you. You whimpered at the slight pain but realized your cramps had all but disappeared.
Judging by the state of his hand, you didn't want to know how bloody his shirt was. It looked as though he'd reached into someone's chest and ripped their heart out; his hand was drenched and rivulets of blood ran all the way down to his elbow.
Astarion giggled at the sight while you burned with embarrassment. "Well, well, well. Someone's happy, isn't she?"
"So are you," you said, nodding to the bulge in his pants.
He grinned. "Well, what did you expect? You were quite vocal, my needy little thing." His eyes drifted back down to your cunt, lust curling through his gaze. "Tight and wet and utterly desperate for me."
He licked a stripe up his hand, his eyes fluttering shut. "Oh, darling, you taste good." He sucked your blood off of every finger, pleasure sliding over his face.
You smiled. "There's more where that came from."
Astarion raised one perfect brow. "Can you handle another little death?" he teased.
You nodded. "I can take a few more."
He chuckled and groaned at the same time. "Oh, my love, don't make promises you can't keep."
You met his gaze as he finished cleaning off his hand. "Believe me, I can keep it."
The vampire grinned. "Very well, then. I'll eat good tonight."
He kissed you chastely as he put his hand between your legs again.
Astarion brought you pleasure unlike anything you'd ever felt before as his fingers slid over your blood-slick skin, teasing your folds and entrance with a smirk, often just barely inserting the tip of his finger before pulling it out again and tracing over your clit and smearing blood across your skin. He kissed and sucked on your breasts, leaving darkening bruises and tiny scratches from his teeth, licking up the tiny beads of blood that sprung from each nick. He kissed along the line of scarring and stitches you had gotten from your injury, fading fast but still a reminder of what had gotten you on your back for him in the first place. Now that he'd eaten a little, he was intently focused on bringing you to the edge and pulling you back, again and again and again.
He worked another orgasm out of you and was on his way to coaxing out the third when you stopped him.
"Is it too much?" he asked, frowning. His unbloodied hand moved to rest on your hip, his thumb smoothing over your skin. His eyes searched your face, looking for anything to tell him why you'd stopped him.
You shook your head. "I need more, Astarion," you gasped, slurring his name into Astari. The unintended nickname made him blush. "I need more of you. Please. Please."
The smile returned to his face, cockier than before. "Oh, darling. I need more of you, too," he said, looking into your cunt and licking his lips. "I could just eat you up."
You spread your legs wider. He settled between them. "Please do."
He breathed in deep and his eyes practically rolled back into his head. "You're going to be the death of me— Ah. Well, you would be, if I was alive."
You frowned. "Would this even be happening if you were alive?"
Astarion thought for a moment. "Let's not think about the logistics," he decided and licked the drying blood from his fingers off your abdomen. Your body trembled. He lifted your legs over his shoulders. You squeaked and smiled at him.
"Lay back," he whispered. You obliged him.
Wet warmth touched your skin just above your clit and you glanced down at him, watching him slowly lick the drying blood from your skin. He kissed your skin as he cleaned it, leaving you covered in slowly darkening bruises.
You stared at the stars as he pressed a soft first kiss to your clit. You let out a slow breath and he began to suck, his lips closing around it, his tongue licking light stripes.
You pushed your hips against his mouth. "Circles," you whispered.
"As you wish," he said, his breath fanning over your cunt and making you tremble. He went back to his feast, licking in circles this time, and you let out a soft whimper. You reached down and he reached up, lacing your fingers together and squeezing your hand. You squeezed back.
He moved further down until his nose bumped your clit and his lips found your entrance. He moaned, the sound deep and guttural, at the taste of your blood. He lapped at your entrance, his tongue sweeping up the blood as soon as it collected there. You shuddered, your breaths coming in heaves.
Astarion kissed your entrance once before he dove in, pushing his tongue into your cunt. You gasped and he laughed and buried his face in you.
Through the pleasure, you wondered dimly how he was breathing (did he, as a vampire, need to breathe?), but the thought was pushed away the moment his splayed fingers on your hip dug into your flesh and pulled you even closer to his mouth.
The sounds you were making were obscene: your moans were loud and coarse, and your cunt squelched lewdly as he drank your blood and arousal. You felt filthy, aware that the mix was running down your legs and buttocks but knowing the vampire eating you out was enjoying you too much to care.
Astarion himself was quite vocal, moaning into you and making you shiver. He whimpered, whined, groaned, and keened, growing louder with every swallow of blood. He alternated between watching you writhe and squeezing his eyes shut in pleasure.
You watched his hand slide from your hip to his bulge. He palmed himself through his trousers, hissing in pleasure, and the sight was enough to send you over the edge for a third time.
But Astarion didn't let up. He lapped at you, sucking so harshly your pleasure bordered pain, until your legs stopped shaking and your breathing evened out.
He lifted his head with a grin. "How do I look?"
You looked at him and started laughing. He was the smiliest you had ever seen him, his eyes practically glowing, and the lower half of his face was covered in your blood. His teeth were stained red and sticky blood dripped slowly from his fangs. It ran down his chin in rivulets and splatters dotted his lower cheeks like freckles. Some of it was even in his hair.
"You're ridiculous," you giggled. "And a messy eater."
He snorted. "Excuse you!"
"It's all over your face!"
He sat up with a grin, licking his lips. "You mean you are all over my face."
Satisfaction curled through you. "Yes," you said, reaching for him. He took your hand again. "Yes I am."
He wiped his face with his hand and licked it clean once again. You reached up and wiped some off on your thumb, then held it out to him. He took your thumb into his mouth and sucked. Your heart stopped beating.
"Feeling better?" he asked you, lightly placing his palm over your abdomen, applying a little pressure, and rubbing gentle circles.
"Much better," you said. "Thank you. But, ah..." Your gaze drifted from his beautiful, if slightly pink, face and down to his bulge. It was just as, if not more, prominent now that he'd gone down on you. "What about you?"
Astarion smirked. "I like your enthusiasm, but don't worry about me. Not tonight, darling."
You frowned. "Why not? What if I want you inside of me?" You walked two fingers up his leg and slowly covered his crotch with your palm. When he didn't protest and his eyes fluttered shut, you gave him a gentle squeeze. He let out a soft moan through closed lips and tilted his head back. You kissed the column of his neck and bit down gently. You sucked—hard—and a rumbling moan came from his chest.
"Because," he said finally, drawing in a ragged breath. "Because that would be a terrible waste of your precious blood." He looked at you with half-lidded eyes. "When this is over, I promise you, you can have as much of me as you want." He pushed his hips into your hand and you gave him another gentle squeeze. He gasped.
You nuzzled into him and his arm wrapped around your shoulders, holding you there. "And what if I want all of you?"
The question hung in the air. He looked at you for a long time and suddenly you saw the fragility Karlach had mentioned this afternoon, which felt like years ago instead of mere hours. You reached up to cup his cheek and, though you were stark naked, the sexual desire in the air seemed to have disappeared.
"I want all of you, Astari," you whispered. The nickname made his eyes grow wide. "All of you, in every way, for as long as possible. If you'll let me. If you want me, too."
He whimpered, and the sound was broken. You hated hearing that pain coming from him. "I want you, I do, I just..." He closed his eyes and you were suddenly very sure there was a darkness, a secret, he was trying to hide from you. You were certain it had to do with his vampiric master he'd so often complained about. "I'll try, my darling, I'll try for you."
You sat up on your knees and cupped his face in both hands and kissed him. You didn't break the kiss once as you pressed your body against his and held him tightly. You felt the scar on his back and wanted to ask but didn't, letting him keep his secrets for now.
His arms came around you, cradling your back and holding you tight to him. The kiss became a long-lasting hug, the both of you burying your heads in each other's shoulders until Astarion pulled away from you, a smile on his face. You returned that smile and sat back on your heels.
His eyes trailed over your body again. There was a note of nervousness in his voice as he asked, "Darling, would you mind...touching me again? I could use some relief."
You grinned. "Of course, my love. All you had to do was ask."
Relief crossed his face. He leaned back as you trailed your hand from his shoulder, down his chest, and back to his bulge. You tipped his head back with your free hand and kissed his neck while you rubbed him. He pushed his hips into your hand, sighing blissfully, and your hand was in his trousers in seconds. He grew loud, thrusting his cock into your hand with a power that surprised you.
"Take what you need," you told him, your voice hushed, your lips directly next to his ear. "Help me give you what you want."
He whimpered, your name a broken cry from his lips, and he cuddled into you as he came. He buried his head into your neck, hiding his eyes and barely holding back grunts. As his thrusts grew weaker and you slowed your hand on him, you felt hot tears on your neck and wondered what this poor man had been through that he hadn't yet told you.
You removed your hand from his pants and he immediately wrapped you in another hug, one strong enough to knock you down and knock the breath of you. You held him as tightly as he held you.
When Astarion at last pulled away from you, his tears had stopped but his eyes still shone with them. He kissed you softly.
"Thank you," he whispered. "I... Thank you."
You brushed some of his hair from his face. "What's wrong?"
He shook his head. "Nothing. You were... It's just that no one has cared about me during sex in a very long time and...you did. So...thank you."
You took his hand and squeezed it. "Oh, Astarion," you cooed. "I always care about you. Like this or otherwise. You could stop this right now—or before it even began—and I wouldn't have stopped caring about you."
He smiled. "Oh, darling. I love the sentiment, but I'm not done with you yet."
Astarion kissed down your body and laid between your legs again. He licked another stripe up your cunt and you saw the coating of blood on his tongue before he swallowed. "Shall we try for a fourth? Or perhaps even a fifth?" He raised his brow, leaving the decision up to you.
You laid back. "We'll try for as many as you'd like," you said.
He bared his teeth in a feral grin. "All night it is!"
~❊~
You woke up the next morning sore and alone and with very little sleep.
Astarion had been relentless and stopped only when you simply couldn't take it anymore and he was practically drunk on your blood—all without making you bloodless and woozy. When you had finished for the final time, he had cleaned you up, helped you back into your clothes, picked up his own shirt, and walked you back to camp. He was so gentle that you didn't even mind the teasing about how you limped.
Dawn hadn't been far off as you each went back to your tents after exchanging a final, solid kiss. So you woke to the sound of everyone else beginning their day just a few hours later.
You felt the soreness in your core before you even moved. Biting back a sigh and not regretting it one bit as you pictured Astarion's happy, bloody face, you rolled over and hoped your recent injury would be enough for the others to let you sleep in.
You were wrong.
Shadowheart opened your tent a few minutes later with a urgency that made you jump.
"What? What's wrong?" you asked, blinking blearily in the bright sunlight.
"Are you alright? You never sleep in, you're always up making breakfast!"
You groaned. "Is that it? Are you just hungry?"
She peered at you. "Are you hurt? Did your wound reopen?"
"What? No! I'm fine, I'm just tired, that's all! I have lost a lot of blood recently, in case you forgot."
She sighed. "Oh. Alright. Well, just know the others are worried, too—Astarion especially."
You remembered how he'd checked in on you last night and had asked if he'd hurt you at all when you'd returned to camp and wondered if you had worried him by sleeping in. Suddenly you were grateful the others could chalk it up to his not-so-secret crush on you.
You dressed and hid the light bruises on your neck and collarbones in a high-collared shirt. You only noticed you were walking with a slight limp still after you'd left your tent and made your way across camp.
Karlach called your name and was at your side immediately. "You're limping! Are you hurt? Do you need me to fetch Shadowheart?"
You blinked at her. "What? No. I'm fine!"
"You don't look fine," Gale said, a few feet away, looking up from the book he'd been engrossed in for days. "Did you hurt your leg the other day? Or have your stitches ripped?"
"My, my," said a suave voice behind you. You turned and found Astarion grinning like a cat. "You do have quite the limp, there, darling. Are you sure you're alright?"
You huffed at him, your body remembering his touch immediately, his ghostly hands sliding across your skin. "I'm fine, I promise. Now hush and someone help me make breakfast."
Both Karlach and Astarion sat with you, Astarion very close to you and giving you a smile you couldn't help but return. Karlach stared at Astarion like he'd grown two heads, her gaze flickering between the two of you. She gasped very suddenly.
"Not a word," you hissed at her, knowing she'd figured it out.
Astarion smirked.
"And nothing from you, either," you added. "You're the reason I'm walking like this, you bastard."
He smiled sweetly at you, catching the fondness in the words. "And I gladly will be again." He took your hand and lifted it to his mouth, kissing it. Your eyes grew wide.
Karlach squeaked.
"You know nothing," you told her. "At least for a little while."
"Yes," Astarion agreed. "At the very least, tell Shadowheart nothing—I broke my promise to her to keep our dear girl from doing any strenuous activity."
You turned red and Karlach groaned, "Not before breakfast, please!"
Astarion opened his mouth—undoubtedly to say something about how you were technically his breakfast, based on the hour you'd returned to camp—but you moved quicker than he could speak. You grabbed him by the collar and yanked him toward you, kissing him heartily to shut him up.
A heavy silence settled over camp. You cracked one eye open and found the rest of your companions staring at the pair of you, mouths agape and eyes wide.
"Oops," Astarion muttered, sounding rather pleased.
You cleared your throat. "I, ah, I've been meaning to tell you all. Honestly."
Gale heaved a sigh. "How much do I owe you, Wyll?"
Your jaw dropped open. "You placed bets?!"
"Alright, you bloodsucker," Wyll said, holding his hand out and waiting for his payment from Gale. "You win."
"Yes," Astarion said, and you expected him to be wearing a smirk infused with his charm, his triumphant eyes on the others. But when you turned to him, he was staring at you, a dopey smile fixed on his face. "Yes, I did."
☞ ❊ ☜
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Baldur's Gate 3 // Astarion Acunin
part 2 (Sweet Like Wine) {here}!
Taglist: {comment and let me know if you'd like to be added to the Astarion taglist!}
3K notes · View notes
hispg · 4 months
Text
Trying hard
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Pairings: ID! Leon X Fem! Reader
Summary: Your husband will not give up until you're pregnant. No matter what.
Wc: 2.2k
Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, p in v, creampie, mentions of pregnancy, worshiping, mentions of lactation kink, breeding kink.
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"Negative again?" Leon asks, watching you leave the bathroom.
From your crestfallen expression, he didn't need to think about much to understand that the pregnancy test had come back negative once again.
You'd been trying for three months, three months of unprotected sex at every opportunity. But so far your actions had yielded no more results than memorable nights.
"Yes, negative." You say with sadness in your voice, sitting down next to him on the bed.
He gently takes the test from your hands, calmly examining the result.
"Don't worry, we'll do fine." Leon says with a smile, bringing your hand up to his lips and giving them a gentle kiss.
You smiled weakly, looking down at your lap in disappointment.
You sometimes blamed yourself for thinking that you might have a fertility problem. But all the tests you had done didn't show anything, so maybe it was just bad luck.
"Don't stress your pretty little head about it, Hm?" He says to you, gently moving closer and giving you a kiss on the cheek.
You loved the way he was always supportive of you, and that he would never blame you for any of it.
"Do you think we can make it this year?" You ask softly, turning a little more towards him.
He chuckled, nodding at you, "We just have to try, one day it will happen."
The way he was so sure of you, you felt so safe with him.
"Come here." He proposes, spreading his legs and tapping his thigh, showing you where he wanted you to stand.
You nodded with a smile, mounting him and sitting on his soft thighs. And he promptly wrapped his arms around you, giving you soft kisses on the cheek.
"Have you thought of names?" He asks in a whisper, wanting to improve your mood somehow.
You mumble a soft no, clinging to him tightly. He knew you were controlling your tears at that moment.
"Shhh, it doesn't have to be like this. We just need to try a little harder." He murmurs, holding you by the waist while his other hand goes up and down your back.
"I feel guilty..." You say weakly, knowing from his sigh that he didn't like what you said.
With the hand that was on your waist, he lifted your chin, making you look at him, "Don't say that. There's no one to blame here, we're going to have a baby, we just need to be patient."
You pouted, and he, knowing you'd protest, gave you a soft, gentle kiss on the lips, shutting you up instantly.
Instinctively you wrapped your arms around his neck, returning the kiss with the same tenderness and gentleness.
You only felt his hands running down your hips, playing with the soft fabric of your nightgown. His touch was gentle, just light caresses over your clothes.
When he decided to stop the kiss, he let his forehead rest on yours, looking at you with big, gentle blue eyes.
"I love you, you don't know how much." Your husband says, soon pulling you in for another kiss.
This time he wasn't being soft or gentle, it was something more intimate, hot, his lips moving with yours sensually, making your body shiver with precipitation.
His tongue sliding into your mouth, caressing your own. The kiss got deep quickly, his hands finding their way under your nightgown, caressing your soft skin.
His calloused palms moving up and down your thighs, giving gentle squeezes, feeling how soft your skin was under his fingers.
A contrast to his rough skin.
"I bet you'll be the most beautiful mother in the world." He murmurs as he separates his lips from yours with a 'pop' sound.
"Do you think so?" You ask with a silly grin, you've already become more attached to the idea of getting pregnant than you should be.
"Positive." He says against your skin, his lips tracing your neck.
He made a point of mapping every corner of your skin, leaving wet kisses, holding off just a little longer so that you could feel his teeth grazing your skin.
You gasped softly, your breathing growing heavy with each kiss, each time his fingers kneaded your skin under your nightgown, sending shivers up your spine.
"I can already imagine." He says, trailing kisses down to the cleavage of your chest, holding you tightly by the hips to prevent you from moving.
"You, all round and pregnant. All swollen." His words vibrated against your skin, making you gasp with every sentence.
You could feel his stubble on your breasts, rubbing gently against your body. This was followed by his hot breath against you, and if you looked closely, you could see that he was salivating just looking at your breasts.
"And these tits here? Fuck, they're going to be so heavy. So full." He purred, pulling the top of your nightgown down, exposing what he wanted to see.
Your breasts bounced free, making him growl and bite his lip in response.
In the blink of an eye, he was stuck to you, sucking and nibbling on your breasts. He was latched onto the spot like a starving man, sucking you so hard that you could even feel his teeth on you.
"Fuck, imagine you leaking milk. Asking me to help you. And I'd suck out every last drop." He whispered against you, wrapping his tongue around your nipple, making you moan like crazy.
Unconsciously you started grinding against him, rubbing your wetness against his thighs, feeling his growing erection poking at your ass.
"You're going to feed me every night. Every. Fucking. Night." With that he left your left breast, not letting you breathe before moving on to the right.
You were already marked, the sweet bites of love staining your delicate skin.
"Leon, God..." You moaned, tangling your hands in his hair and pulling him to your breast, making his nose nuzzle at you from how close he was.
And it didn't bother him one bit, you saw his eyes squint in a smile as his lips were glued to you, the sounds he made were as obscene as the scene before your eyes.
His tongue lapped at you, just as his hands held your hips tightly so that no matter how much you were squirming, you didn't move a muscle.
Once he opened his mouth, you knew what was coming. He traced your areola with his tongue, sucking lightly on your sensitive area.
Your mind was already in shambles, your panties soaked just from watching him feed on you like this. Feasting on every part of your body.
You could already imagine the image, Leon begging to taste your milk, wanting to know what it tasted like, the texture, wanting you to feed him every night.
Just thinking about it made you feel your pussy clench around nothing, making you let out a whimper at how excited you were.
He ravaged your nipple, sucking like a baby, growling as you slowly ground into him.
He could see your pink face, your panting breaths, you holding onto him so tightly, almost begging him to keep going.
And he was crazy if he didn't.
You could feel his grip on your hips tightening, you knew it would leave its mark the next day.
"Leon... Please." You pleaded with a little pout, clit throbbing for him to just fuck you.
You watched as he withdrew his lips from your breast, leaving a trail of saliva connecting the two of you.
"Please what? Mh?" he teases with a mischievous grin, rubbing his lips against yours.
You whimper, keeping your pout and looking at him with a sly expression.
"I need you. Please." You say slyly, rubbing your wetness against his thigh once again.
He moaned low, quickly turning you over and lying on the bed, climbing on top of you and planting kisses on your neck once more.
In this position you could see the wet spot staining his sweatpants, he was so turned on just thinking about you being pregnant. His mind was going wild with so many possibilities.
"You're going to be so beautiful, fucking beautiful." He says, taking advantage of the distraction to lift your nightgown up to your waist.
And once again you had him salivating, the lace panties that looked so beautiful on you. As soon as he saw it, he felt like ripping the fabric off with his bare hands.
You arched your body and gasped in response, holding back the urge to moan louder and roll your eyes.
But it all stopped when he found your clit, tapping it lightly before massaging your bundle of nerves.
"You're going to carry my baby. You're going to get all swollen because you're carrying my baby." He growls, kissing and nibbling your stomach.
As if to remind you how much he wanted this. How much he wanted you to carry his child.
His child.
"Yes, I'll carry your baby." You say shyly and softly, pushing your hips against his in a search for friction.
This made his eyes glaze over in anticipation, his cock throbbing painfully in his pants. The idea was too much for him, it was all he wanted most at that moment.
A desire he was going to fulfill no matter what.
He then began to remove your panties, slowly sliding them down your legs and off your ankles, then tossing them into a corner of the room.
And there you were, dripping wet, so ready for him, and you were like that because of him. Only him.
In agony, he removed his own pants, along with his underwear, his cock sticking out, drenched in his precum.
So red and flushed, the tip so swollen that it was painful for him. He then captured your lips in a sensual kiss, making you squirm and moan beneath him.
All you felt afterwards was him sliding his cock into you, shoving it all in at once. You were so wet that he didn't even have to do much.
As usual, your legs wrapped around him, his hips pressing into you all at once. You could feel the heat of his body against yours.
"I bet all you want me to do is fill that pussy, don't you?" He asked in a warm purr, slowly moving his hips against you.
All you did was nod in a sloppy way, he had you so full that you couldn't even think about anything. Just the sensation of paradise he was able to give you.
"So that's what I'm going to do, princess." He says this before giving a deep thrust, so deep you could bet he wanted to get as deep as he could reach.
He reached down to bite your neck, thrusting hard into you at a relentless pace.
One thing he had plenty of was stamina, you can believe that.
By this point he had given up on understanding any kind of language coming out of you. All that mattered was fucking you nice and hard.
All you could hear were his hips against yours, his balls slapping against you so hard that you rolled your eyes every time.
Your warm walls tightening around him was a clear answer that you were enjoying it, the way his cock was all wet with your fluids told him exactly what he wanted to hear.
He liked fucking you like this, in such a raw and dirty way, feeling you clench around him, your sweet moans entering his ears and making him grunt against you.
Or the tantalizing image of your breasts swaying as he thrust into you.
"Leon- Mh- I'm close." You say in a loud whimper, sinking your nails into his back.
"Go on, princess." He looks at you with a naughty grin, sending you straight into the edge.
You arched your body, crashing against his as you came, your cream dripping down your body, making a mess of the sheets and him, all he needed to start fucking you even harder.
"Good girl." He purred, slapping your clit lightly in approval.
He held you by the hips this time, slamming his hips into you, each thrust making you shudder. You held him tightly, as if you depended on it.
In and out, he took his cock out only to put it in again. Hammering his entire length into you.
You noticed when his thrusts became sloppier, him moving desperately to reach his own climax.
This time all you heard was his loud grunt, followed by a swear word that became almost inedible in the heat of the moment.
He sank into you in one powerful thrust, bottoming out and spurting all his seed. You felt that he was so deep that he wanted to hit your womb directly, just to be sure.
He let out a murmur of approval, lying down beneath you gently, but the peace soon ended when he felt his cum oozing out of you.
And he couldn't let that happen.
So he pulled out of you, getting down on his knees and pushing his cum into you once more, this time making sure that you didn't waste a drop, that you kept it all inside you as you should.
And he even smacked your tight pussy, murmuring a soft, "You did good."
You smiled under your breath, looking at him with tenderness. Your sweaty, tired expression said that you had enjoyed this as much as he had.
Despite the almost romantic moment, you could still see the lust in his eyes.
A silent message that you could already translate into your memory.
'Catch your breath, we're not finished for the night.
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brodieland · 2 months
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.˚ 𓈒 ࣪.𝝑𝝔 Love the guys your dad hates !! ´ˎ˗
Percy Jackson x fem!dionysus!reader Synopsis: a daughter of Dionysus needs a break from the chaos by the water, till a Poseidon boy comes and spoils the quiet. Word count: 1610
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Dionysus, the god of wine, vegetation, fertility, pleasure and insanity.
Y/N Y/L/N, daughter of Dionysus. Being his daughter didn't just make you a half-blood to one of the twelve Olympians, along with his powers of vegetation the insanity trait also followed through with it. Maybe you weren't fully demented, just slightly nutty. Your brain moves a million miles a minute and sometimes its hard to think with so many things happening around you. So every now and then, you sneak away from the hundreds of kids at camp half-blood and make your way to a clearing deep in the middle of the forest. In the middle of this clearing was a beautifully clear blue lake surrounded by an immense amount of greenery and flowers. It was perfect. And the best thing about it was that no one knew where it was.
Or so you thought.
After a long day of helping younger campers with their archery, you were absolutely wiped. When you were finally done with your duties, you rushed back to your cabin, changed into your favorite wine colored two-piece(very on brand), and quickly snuck off without being noticed down to your spot. The lake.
Arriving as quick as you could, you slipped off your clothes down to your bathing suit and made your way into the water. You laid and floated to the top, starfish style, and floated your way to the middle of the pool of water and closed your eyes to relax. After a few minutes you sank down and let the water take you. Complete silence. Under the water was complete silence and you loved it. After a few moments you needed oxygen and made you way back up. After breaking through the surface of the water, you noticed a blurred figure standing by your clothes, looking as if they were inspecting them.
"What the hell" you thought to yourself. You were convinced no one knew of your spot.
You dove back underwater and made your way to the lakeside where this mystery person, and your clothes, were located. When you got there, that's when you shot out the water, asking what they were doing and scaring them in the process.
"WOAH" said the figure as they jumped and dropped your clothes back down to the ground. You rubbed the water from your eyes and that's when you realized, this wasn't just some random person. It was a certain big three kid you may or may not have had your eye on. Specifically a Poseidon boy, or the only Poseidon boy in fact, Percy Jackson.
You wouldn't say you guys are the closest of close, but you guys would talk every now and then. As much as the both of you wanted to be able to talk more, being the daughter of Dionysus made that a little hard. Your dad was never a big Percy fan the way you were, I guess that happens when you smart-mouth a god of wine, and refuse him some wine. Though you found the interaction funny, Dionysus never really cared for any campers other than his own kids. It is what it is though.
"Oh, um, my bad didn't mean to scare you.. like that" you were a little nervous, he was really cute. "So um, what are doing here. I didn't think anyone else knew of this place.."
"Well, I noticed your always disappearing after you finish your camp jobs and stuff, you know? So, I got curious and followed you out here to see what you were doing, sorry if that's kinda weird" Percy started rambling, but the thought of him actually noticing you weren't around and following you wanting to know where you go, made you feel excited.
"Wow, you were curious about me, that's adorable" you started giggling as you said this, amused with yourself.
"Well, yeah I, uh, was" while he was talking Percy was stuttering and looking around, clearly hot in the face. Yours was just as hot though so not much room to talk. That's when you got an idea, and with that you extended your hand toward Percy.
"Here, help me get out" you asked.
"Oh sure" he happily reached out and grabbed your hand, that's when you held on tight and pulled him into the lake with you. You started laughing so hard your stomach started hurting, and if you looked down and saw a six-pack you wouldn't have been shocked.
After a few seconds, Percy emerged and looked at you wide eyed. "DUDE, MY CLOTHES" right, he was fully clothed, whoops!
"Your in shorts, just throw your other stuff back to the shore and you'll be fine" and that's what he did. You tried not to stare so instead you just splashed him and swam off laughing.
And that's how the next few hours went by, swimming and goofing around with Percy. You really liked hanging out with him and he enjoyed it just the same. Sucks your dad didn't like him. And before you two realized it, it got dark, and therefore late.
"Oh my gods, Percy we have to get back before curfew we have to hurry" you hated getting in trouble, you liked being able to stay off radar.
"Oh come on, we'll be fine if we're a little late" Percy said.
"Maybe for you, but I don't know if you remember, my dad kind of works here, so he'd punish me himself. Plus, he's not your biggest fan" you explained to Percy in a matter-a-fact tone. That's when he gave in and the two of you started running back clothes in hand. You guys made it back just about a minute or two late. Despite being past curfew, he still walked you back to your cabin, what a gentleman.
"Hey, thanks for walking me back" you said as you both walked up to the cabin door, stopping and turning to each other.
"Oh of course, no problem" Percy smiled, clearly not a care in the world if a harpie found him here. And funnily enough, that made you happy. Dare you say, you had butterflies in your stomach just standing near him the way the both of you were at that very moment.
That's when the both of you started leaning in closer and closer till your lips finally connected. It was like a dream come true, this was a perfect moment not even your dad could've ruined. Or so you thought, because as Percy pulled you closer by the waist and you pulled him in by the neck, your cabin doors swung open.
"Hey, there kids" Dionysus shouted, despite the smile on his lips, his eyes had a murderous intent behind them as he stared at Percy. The both of you jumped back and separated, standing there embarrassed. Then, Dionysus turned directly to Percy, with the same smile and crazed look in his eyes. "I'm gonna give you a ten second head start, after those ten seconds are up, I'm sending my grape vines your way. And if they catch you, they will wrap around you and you will get hung upside on the nearest tree and I will leave you there for everyone to see."
And without a second thought Percy ran for his cabin as fast as possible, looking back once to shout a 'see you later' at Y/N. "NO YOU WON'T" shouted back Dionysus.
"YES YOU WILL" you shouted and waved at Percy as he kept running. You couldn't see it, but he had a giant grin on face when you said that.
"Dad did you really have to do that" you turned to your dad and asked, with slight annoyance dripping from your voice.
"Of course I did, your my kid. And really Peter Johnson? You went out on a secret date with Peter Johnson?" Dionysus questioned.
Your face got hot when he said date. "Hey, it wasn't a da- wait, how do you know about that" you looked a him with a raised eyebrow.
"Heard about it from the grapevine" with that he patted your head as you both said your goodnights.
You walked into your cabin and changed and started getting ready to sleep. As you were now walking towards you bed, you heard a knock at your window. You completely stopped where you standing and turned your head to see your favorite forbidden kid standing right by your window waving at you. You quickly made a b-line and made your way straight to opening your window and speaking to Percy.
"Hey Percy, glad to know my daddy didn't scare you off" you said while making both you and Percy laugh.
"Not even a god, not even one of the twelve Olympians themselves, could ever scare me from you. Which is why I'm here, to see if you want to hang out again tomorrow, but this time as a date?"
Oh my gods, oh my gods, oh my gods, oh my gods. Oh. My. Gods. He just asked you on a date.
"I'd love to go out on a date with you Percy Jackson" you smiled out at the boy standing in front of you and he smiled back.
"That's amazing to hear Y/N Y/L/N" and with that he leaned back in and planted a quick kiss on your lips then made his way running back to his cabin before the harpies, or gods forbid Dionysus, knew he wasn't in his cabin fast asleep.
After watching him run off, you shut the window and made your way back to your bed, having an amazing sleep. All nightmare free, just Percy.
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zyafics · 1 month
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play fake | part four
series play fake — ( masterlist )
pairing rafe cameron x female reader
summary when rafe cameron needs to secure a gf in order for his father to see him as a stable man, he enlists the help of a bartender who wants nothing to do with him.
content 18+, eventual smut, angst, fake-dating, jealousy, people-pleasing and independent! female reader, ward cameron pinning rafe and sarah against each other, rafe being an asshole
zya's notes thank u for all your lovely comments and reblogs, i love reading them sm! this one is going to be a long one too, so please enjoy <3
dedication also, this chapter is for @rivaiken iykyk ;)
𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃 ⋆.˚ ⋆.˚ ⋆.˚ ⋆.˚
The next couple of days have been radio silence. You don't try to communicate with Rafe and he doesn't try to communicate with you. You just throw yourself into your work, scolding to yourself how this was such a bad idea.
It wasn't meant to be a fuck relationship. It was meant to be fake. Nothing more than public displays of affection and going on to ignore each other behind the scenes. Rafe, himself, said that he wanted to continue doing all the shit he's doing now, just with you as a shielded layer of protection against his father.
Whenever you think back to that moment in the country club bathroom, your stomach recoils. Not because of the sex, but because of how willing you are. You always saw yourself as an independent person. Someone who can handle your own needs. You had to be; you grew up with no parental guidance and raised two younger sisters. You take care of people, you think of others. You handle everything yourself.
But you remember you were deep on your knees, ready to give him anything; when you were splay against the counter, begging him to make you come. God, you feel embarrassed by your own desire.
Maybe it's the control. Maybe it's because you're so used to it in the real world, for once, you want to give the reins to someone else. Especially in the bedroom. And Rafe perfectly takes it.
The only problem is he doesn't give it back.
Asshole.
You're behind the counter, telling Miranda about the new backlog of orders that the system hasn't placed, and a spill in one of the corners, when the bell rings, signaling the entrance of another customer.
"I'll be right with you!" You shout over your shoulders, quickly summarizing the last of the tasks for Miranda before turning to the new customer who walked in.
You plastered on your service smile, ready to take their orders.
Only to realize it was Rafe.
Your smile drops.
"What do you want, Rafe?" You ask pointedly, setting the towel down on the counter as he slides into the seat before you, a casual demeanor to his own presence.
"I need you to play the part again." He says, without so much as an apology or acknowledgement to what happened the other night. "It worked. My dad likes you."
"That's great," your voice is empty of emotions. "Are you coming here to tell me about what a perfect plan you made?"
"No," he shakes his head. "I need you to attend a party with me."
"Business?"
"No, at my house."
Your answer is immediate. "No," you say, shaking your head. "Can't make it."
"You don't even know what it is about."
"Let me guess," you cross your arms, pretending to ponder. "Your dad trusts you enough with me, so if he sees you and me at your party, he would assume I'll be able to control you and you won't push yourself over the edge?"
His reply is silent. That's how you know you're right.
"Guess my Pogue brain caught up fast enough."
You turn around to grab a small glass, pouring out a shot of tequila on the table before tipping your head backwards and taking it all in without a chaser. You need it for whatever this conservation is about to go. "I won't be able to go. I have a double shift."
"I haven't told you the day yet."
"I have double shifts all week," you declare sharply, the bitter taste burning your throat. You squint your eyes for a moment, readjusting, before you find his gaze again.
"I'll pay you."
"God, is this party that important?" You huff out of astonishment at his persistence. "The answer is still no. I don't want your money."
Rafe's brows furrow together. He doesn't understand why you're acting so cold to him. He came in with a good proposition; you wouldn't have to do any of those silly dinners with his father, all you had to do was make an appearance at a party long enough to satiate Ward and then you can do whatever the hell you want. Why are you being so difficult?
"What the fuck is your problem? Why do you have such an attitude?"
You laugh, abruptly, because this is so ironic and humorous to you that the sound rips out. The reckless prince, the man who received a collegiate degree from UNC Chapel Hill doesn't know what a Pogue is thinking.
You don't answer him, deciding to take one of the tasks off of Miranda's hands and clean up the spill yourself. It’s better than being cornered by Rafe. You move to the other side of the counter for the flip-door exit, stepping out from behind the booth.
Heading to the back to grab the supplies, Rafe follows you. Once you step into the backdoor, grabbing the mop, he slips in behind you, blocking the exit.
"You gonna talk or just avoid me all day again?"
You scoff. "That's rich coming from you."
His forehead wrinkles. He truly doesn't know. "What the fuck are you goin' on about?"
Having enough, you throw your arms out in frustration. "I'm talking about the fact that you're the one who fucked me in a bathroom after some problem with your dad," you snap, lashing out from all your pent-up anger. "You refused to talk to me. All you did was used me as your fucking toy."
He staggers back for a moment. Before a cruel smile appears on his lips.
"I remember you were begging for it."
You slap him.
It was so unprecedented, without thought, that it shocked the both of you. The next few seconds were quiet, too quiet, like it was a live wire waiting to spark.
Your voice is calm, almost deadly. "I want you to leave."
His anger comes back tenfold. It's almost a match made in hell; how your rage matches his, how he doesn't back down—but neither do you.
You were going to drive each other insane.
And some sick part of you liked it.
"When have I ever fucking talked to you, Pogue?" He snaps back with dark fury. "We're barely even friends. If I want to fuck you, and you let me, I'm taking it."
"Whenever you had a problem with your dad, you came to me, in this bar," you gesture out to the door. "You talked. I listened. That was the deal."
"We never said that in our relationship."
"Well, I'm putting it in," you declare. Approaching him, stepping a foot closer to close in the distance between the two of you. He doesn't move. He doesn't waver. He watches your step with heavy breathes, dark eyes. In a low breath, you warn, "you want to fuck other people? Fine. I don't care. You do that. They aren't the ones sticking with you, helping you with your dad. They don't have to carry the weight of you being you."
You know the last line was a hard hit, but it was true. You were tired of being seen as another Pogue, someone on the bottom of the litter meant to be used and thrown away. You need to make your stance firm.
"But if you want to fuck me," you conclude, pointing to yourself, "you talk to me, first."
He says nothing. Your anger is filling your adrenaline. It could also be the tequila. Whatever it is, you don't know what provoked you to say the next sentence.
"I wasn't on the pill, goddammit."
For a moment, sobriety reigns over Rafe's features. His eyes widened. "Did you—"
"I bought a Plan B, you asshole." You cut him off, not wanting him to think you're too stupid to think of the consequences. You knew. That's why you told him to pull out. "I wasn't going to carry your babies in me. But, it was expensive. Do you know how much that cost out of my paycheck?"
To him, that may seem like nothing. Nothing more than scraps rolling around his room, in his pockets that he could spare. But for you? That's money that could've gone to paying off your debt, to helping Sailor, to taking care of your siblings.
He remains silent.
You continue.
"You cover for me however you want. You host that party if you want to so fucking badly. But I can't do it. I have work."
You push past Rafe and he lets you, grabbing the mop out of the corner and stepping back into the open atmosphere of your bar. You may hate the noise that comes from the place, but it was better than being suffocated in a room with him.
Rafe quietly follows after you after you return behind the counter.
He looked like he wanted to say something more, but his words were not coming out. His gaze flicks to you, jaw clenched.
"I... I didn't know," his voice is a whisper, almost indistinguishable, that you can't help but let out a bitter chuckle.
"Yeah," you agree. "Because you refused to talk to me."
He says nothing, muted by his own anger, looking down at his hands, before he walks out of the bar. He doesn't bid farewell and you don't expect him to. All you know is he's going to get shit-faced soon and you had nothing to do with it.
As you are helping your little sister with her math homework—where all her struggles were about multiplication tables and recognizing whether a fraction is improper—you miss the early days of your life. Where you don't have to think about anything else.
About the bills. About the loans. About how to take care of your siblings.
About a stupid Kook prince you can't get out of your mind.
Your baby sister is seated on the couch, reading some children's book that you made a couple of years ago, stringed together with yarns and colored pencils. Her delicate voice echoes through the joint living room, sounding out the words on her own as she heard you read them million of times before.
Your sister, Amara, pulls you back to reality as she taps your arm, pointing to her problem on the kitchen counter that she's struggling with. She points to the question, reciting her logic of how she got there, and you return with praising her thought process but reminding her of her multiplication tables.
"Ohhhh," her voice drags, giggling at the realization. "I see."
You chuckle softly, laying your chin on her small shoulder and picking up your phone off the counter. While she fixes her mistake, you scroll through social media.
A notification flashes at the top of your screen.
topperthornton: hey
Why the fuck is another Kook sliding into your DMs?
you: hello?
He quickly responds, asking if you are your name.
you: why?
topperthornton: idk if u know but rafe is hosting a party tn
you: so i heard
topperthornton: well, you should come
you: i don't think so, white boy
topperthornton: it's rafe.. he's asking about u
Something in your chest sputters. You pretend it's not your heart.
you: ?? for what
You hope you didn't come off too eager. You don't want to be. You should be pissed, goddammit, but something about knowing Rafe, drunk right now, is thinking about you, makes you weak.
You hate it.
topperthornton: idk what happened between the two of u but he's drunk and crossed out of his mind and he's just been rambling about u
You stare at the text for a hot minute, before another one follows.
topperthornton: u need to come immediately
Fucking hell.
You know you shouldn’t. You just came out of a long, tiresome shift. You have siblings to take care of. You have a math problem that has yet been corrected. But, something in your chest caves. The idea that Rafe needs help, that he's asking for you specifically, and you aren't coming? Makes you uneasy. 
You have to go.
There's no other way around it.
Scrambling, you pull your Amara off your lap as you run out the door and race down the block. When you stop in front of Pope's house, you pound your fist against the door, praying someone is home.
It's Pope.
"Hey," he greets. "What's up?"
"I know this is last minute but I need you to watch the kids," you announce breathlessly. His eyes follow you, concerned.
"Everything okay?"
"It's fine," you wave off. "I just have to go somewhere and I don't know how long I'll be. Amara is doing her math homework and Leilani is just reading a book. They're really sweet, I promise."
Pope laughs you off casually. "I know," he says with a smile. "I've babysat them before."
"So," you string the words together slowly, hoping your anxiety isn't coming off too strong. You don't want Pope to feel obligated. "Can you... do it?"
He nods. "Of course. Pogues help each other out."
You smile, pulling him into a quick hug, before handing him the spare key to your house. He heads over to take care of your siblings while you run to your beaten-down car, reversing out the road.
When you arrived at Tannyhill, you truly underestimated how large the party was going to be. People crowded all over, dancing, swinging, just having a reckless and wild time at Rafe Cameron's place. While you know you should be slightly embarrassed by the long pajama pants and braless baggy tee you're wearing right now, feeling overdressed, you step out of the car and head inside.
Topper spots you at the porch.
"Thank God," he mumbles under his breath. "He's been out of it."
You wonder if Topper knows about your arrangement with Rafe.
"Yeah," you nod. "Where is he?"
"I put him in his room with some water but I gotta tell you, he's wasted. Some of the things he says... may not be tasteful."
You scoff. We've already crossed that bridge. "I think I'll be fine."
Without another word, Topper pulls away and you head up the familiar stairs of the estate, descending down the hallway you were here just days ago. It feels, for some reason, like a lifetime since you visited.
You knock on the door, twice, to no answer. Deciding to go for it—praying you won't walk into some lewd act—you step into the room to find it peacefully quiet. Rafe laid out on the mattress, his eyes closed.
You scan the room, trying to see if there's any destruction—any thrown chairs or broken bottles—to find everything in the same condition as you visited prior. The only difference is a pink bag, sitting in his drawer with a bouquet of flowers sticking out.
Your stomach twists in jealousy as you wonder who that could be for. At what fool is receiving such gifts or who gave him such.
When you peek inside, you notice a couple of things: a white envelope, a bundle of red tulips, and like ten-plus stacks of Plan B.
You stiffen your laugh. You realize the fool is you.
Butterflies erupt in your stomach.
The bed creaks and you jump at the sound, seeing Rafe pulling himself up on the mattress into a sitting position, rubbing his eyes to clear his vision, before he finds you, standing in front of him.
He says your name. He thinks he's hallucinating from the drugs.
"Yeah," you nod, cautiously approaching him as his glazed eyes follow your every move. "It's me."
"I thought you said you had a double shift."
He didn't mean for his words to come off so sharp.
"I locked up an hour ago." You explain, brushing past his aggravation.
Rafe nods at your explanation, but his movements are sluggish. Lag. He truly is out of it. You're surprised he went this hard.
His head hangs, staring at his lap, before he asks quietly. "What are you doing here?"
You shrug. You don't know either. You thought he needed help. The idea of him asking for you, but you weren't there for him, kills something inside of you. But, you can't say that. Not after everything you said to him. Not after what this relationship is based on.
You are nothing more than a fake girlfriend.
"Topper said you needed help," you evade any sense of responsibility. Of care. "He texted me."
His jaw clenches, and he looks up at you. "Top has your number?"
"No. He found my Instagram," you answer, wondering if that is jealousy you hear. But, you settle that it can't possibly be the case. "He DM'd me and I came over."
Now it's your turn to be vulnerable.
"I thought you needed help."
Rafe scoffs, bitterly, running a hand through his tousled hair. "Unless you can get this headache out of my heart, I don't think there's much you can do, sweetheart."
You nod, your feet shift to the door, ready to leave. If this is all, if that's all Topper is worried about, Rafe should be fine.
"Come here."
You find yourself listening. Again. Your feet pads against the hardwood floor as you streamline over to him, stopping just in front of his legs hanging off the ledge of the mattress. His head tilts up to meet your gaze; his cloudy blue eyes staring back at you. You bite back a thought.
"I know something that would make me feel better."
You scoff at the suggestive tone. "Let me guess: fuck?"
"Sit on my lap."
You hesitate for a moment. You don't want to be another fuck. But, when his hand lands on the side of your thigh, gentle and earnest, you relent.
Slowly, you settle onto Rafe's lap, both legs on either side of his waist. Your body facing him, and despite him in the lower position, he meets you at eye level.
"Better?" You tilt your head, watching his shoulders unwind every-so-slightly.
"Much." He murmurs, his eyes tracing your face. "God, you're gorgeous."
You flush, knocking a weak palm against his broad shoulder. "Shut up," you say, feeling anything but. You're wearing scraps for clothing, something you planned to go straight to bed—not attend an extravagant party hosted by one of the island's finest.
"I'm fucking serious." He snaps, but his voice doesn't have that hard edge. You blame that on the alcohol too. "I saw all those girls tonight. And yet, here you are, in your fucking pajamas and getting me hard."
You scoff, turning away. "So it does lead back to sex."
"No, it means that they pale in comparison to you," he cups your chin, gently, pulling your gaze back to him. "I'm serious, sweetheart. Believe me."
You're afraid that if you move up against his lap, coming closer, you would feel his erection. Not to mention, if you do, you don't know if you're going to start dry-humping him like you did the other day. But, you remain firm on your stance.
You're not going to let him fuck you unless he talks to you.
The atmosphere thins into a silence, as you take in the low hums of the downstairs party blasting in distant music.
"How was the party?" You ask, probing for a conversation starter. "Was it everything you dreamed of?"
He scoffs. "You're looking at it. I basically drank and smoked until I got sick."
His vices. At least you didn't have to hear about the women he hooked up with, if that's the case. Something deep inside of you hope there isn't.
You nod silently, finding your fingers tracing the outline of his shoulders, your nails scraping against his hot skin and trailing up the crook of his neck. Rafe lets his eyes flutter close for a moment, breathing in a shaky breath.
"Don't do that."
"Why?" You ask, genuinely curious. "I'm just tracing."
"Because anything from you right now feels good," he confesses quietly, and your breath caught in your throat. You hand stills. "Fuck, don't stop."
"You're going to have to give me one signal here, Rafe," you roll your eyes. "You can't say green and red light at the same time."
He pauses for a moment. Contemplating your words.
"Green," he whispers. "Definitely green."
You return to your outline of Rafe's silhouette. He lets you. He says nothing as you follow down to the curve of his arms, skimming against his defined biceps and the muscles instinctively flex under your touch. It made you smile. You pretend you aren't proud of it.
This is done in complete silence.
Then, out of nowhere, Rafe confesses, "I shouldn't have touched you like that."
You freeze. You knew immediately what he was referring to.
"I—I was out of it. I took it out on you."
He still doesn't get it.
You abandon your artwork and use both hands to cup the underside of his jaw, forcing him to tilt his gaze and look up at you. With a sigh, you say, "that wasn't the problem." Your eyes study his face, "it was the fact that you didn't talk to me or explain to me what happened."
His gaze is broken; so incredibly so. The whites of his irises are a faint shade of red, bringing out the deep set of his blue eyes.
"I need to know these things, Rafe." You continue gently. "It's not about me being nosy, or a bitch, or anything. If I'm getting into something with you, I need to know the full picture so I can help you." You swallow your voice as you mumble out the next one. "So you can help me."
You hope he doesn't know the strain in your tone, how hard it was to say those words. You hope he doesn't press on it.
"Okay." Rafe nods, dipping his chin into your palms. "I get it."
"Easier said than done, darling."
Rafe knows it is. He's been struggling to string words together before you came into his life, much less with you in it. But, he was willing to try.
He begins at the dinner. With a stumbled start, he explains how Ward doesn't think he was good enough for you.
You stop him to ask questions. "He said that?"
"No," Rafe shakes his head. "But it's the look on his face. It's—the way he acted. You should've seen how he looked at me when he complimented you, like I'll never compare."
You frown at those words; you didn't even notice.
When he satisfied your questions, Rafe continued on with his story. Rambling further. Each word spilling out easier than the last. He assumed it's because of the alcohol, or the drugs, or perhaps it was neither altogether and it was just you. All in all, he knew.
It was easiest to talk to you.
It reminded him of the bar. He put himself in that setting. His words tumbles out of him with the impression that you won't share it with anyone else. The idea that you were just you, a bartender, who probably had to deal with this shit a thousand-times-over with other talkative customers. That it was you, who he is confessing a vulnerable part to, without the retaliation of judgment.
Rafe breakdowns the comments Ward made. The little conversation they shared after dinner, when you were helping with the caterers. Your clothes. It all became too much to him; like he was the problem. That nothing he did was good enough. His mind was spiraling by that time and having nothing else to pour it into—the drinks, the drugs, the partying—all he had was you.
And he used that to his advantage.
You listen intently, nodding along and following his words without further interruption. Only on things you truly need to clarify. When he finished, even with his incoherent noises and words, something in his chest lightens. It feels more at peace.
You stare at him for a few moments, digesting the information. A protectiveness forms in the pit against your stomach because fuck Ward, you decided. Sure, there may have been admiration from your end about his ability to become a Kook but that means shit now. You hate how he treats Rafe. You hate how you didn't notice.
"God, your dad is a dick."
Rafe doesn't agree like you expect him to. His gaze hardens, like he can't stand you insulting him. You realized, in that moment, you crossed a line. That he may harbor all these hurt and anger and resentment, at the end of the day, it's still his father.
"Sorry," you mumble softly. "I didn't mean it like—"
"I know what you mean."
That came out with an edge.
You swallow, deciding that you should leave. Maybe you being here isn't the right decision. Your legs are starting to cramp from their overstretched position and the inside of your thighs burn from the overuse. You peel your hands off his shoulders and slowly will yourself off of Rafe's lap.
"I should go," you declare, glancing at the exit.
Something in his chest tightens. He wasn't mad. He just wasn't used to regulating his emotions, especially about his father. All he knows is that he doesn't want you to leave.
"Wait," Rafe declares as you pause in front of his bedroom door. He stammers for an excuse. "I never made you come."
Your eyes slightly widen from the suggestion. "It's fine," you say, even though, in that moment, a small part of you hated him for that. "I... I finished myself off when I got home."
The image of you, in your bed, alone, touching yourself to relieve your aches, does something to him. Both in guilt and in arousal.
"No," he raises from his bed, approaching you. Now, with him standing on his own two feet, he towers over you—dominating and intimidating. "It's only fair. I should give back."
"Rafe," you place a hand on his chest, laughing awkwardly, because you don't know how you feel about him pleasuring you. "It's fine. It's not a tit-for-tat thing. You don't owe me anything."
He feels frustrated again. That's not what he meant.
"Fine." He snaps. "You want my words? I want to make you come. I want you to feel as good as I did that day."
You stare at him, the air stolen from your lungs, not knowing what to say. Then, suddenly, an idea occurs to you and a sly smile rises to your lips.
"You want to help me come?" You ask sweetly, watching as he nods his head like an obedient dog. "Okay."
Your hands travel down to the hem of his pants, to his belt, and unbuckle them. Rafe's face conveys surprise, that you're so eager to accept, and when you pull out the leather strap, you stop. Just for a moment, you glance back, asking in confirmation. "My pleasure, right?"
He doesn't know what you're trying to do, but he nods anyway.
"Turn around."
Rafe does what you say. You take both of his wrists into one of your hands—a struggle that Rafe had to assist with—and pins them behind his back. Using the belt, you tie them together.
"Sweetheart..." His voice is low, unsure of how you're able to proceed, but the arousal travels through his body at the uncertainty.
"Trust me." You whisper, buckling them into a firm lock. When you walk back around to face Rafe, your panties dampen at the sight before you: him, standing tall, with his arms pinned behind him, almost helpless. "Sit."
Rafe takes the seat on the desk chair you pulled out, his bounded arms touching the back of the seat as his focus is pinned on you, standing before his bed.
You let out a shaky breath, excitement bubbling in your stomach at the idea of what's about to happen, before your fingers hook to the band of your pants, slowly pulling them down to your ankles. He watches every little move; like a strip tease catered specifically for him. Something he can see. Something he can't touch.
Rafe can feel his erection hardens in his jeans.
"What are you doing?" Rafe's voice is rough and once you step out of your pants, revealing the white panties underneath, he groans at the sight.
"I'm going to make myself feel good," you declare evenly, trying to calm your racing heart, "and you're going to watch."
His Adam's apple bobs. "How do I help?"
"I look at you as I do."
A complaint lodged in his throat but you caught it before he proceeded. "My pleasure, right?" You remind him, to which he, with great reluctance, nods.
You leave your shirt on, deciding it would be unnecessary to take off, and settle down on his bed. Your back pressed against the mattress, you position yourself comfortably in a way that allows Rafe to watch.
And he's watching.
"Are you going to use your fingers?" Rafe asks, deciding that he needs to talk to keep him sane.
"Mhm," you answer, spreading your legs. Arousal licks up your stomach as you feel the cool air brushes the inside of your thighs, raising goosebumps against your skin. You feel the urge to laugh to dispel some discomfort in your body, at how intense Rafe is studying you, but you choose not to. "I might only use two. It'll be tight."
Fuck, Rafe thought.
With a tentative hand, you brush your fingers against your panties, feeling your wetness forming a spot. The light touches ignites heat in your core and your eyes flutter close for a second.
"Look at me." Rafe commands, trying to regain some control. It doesn't work, but you listen anyway.
You watch him as you continue to stroke yourself, pressing against your clothed pussy, not quite entering, as a light coat of your slick covers your fingers. You tip your head back with a small moan.
"Sweetheart," he groans, "stop torturing yourself."
When he truly means to stop torturing him.
You pull your hand back and stuff your fingers into your mouth to cover with saliva, tasting the faintness of your arousal, before returning back to your pussy. Pushing the drenched fabric to the side, a forefinger slips inside easily.
A whimper escapes you, your back arching slightly from the intrusion of your touch. Rafe's breath hitches in his throat as he watches you steadily pump yourself, in-and-out with one digit. You focus on your own pleasure, how good it feels, with the heightened sensitivity of Rafe's attention all on you.
And he's fucking hard.
Rafe watches as you spread your wet folds, slipping in another finger to your tight cunt. It kills him that he can't do anything about it. 
"I bet my fingers would fill you more," he offers seductively, trying to remind you of his existence. That he can do it too. You laugh softly, not taking the bait. "What are you thinking about?"
"How good this feels," you whisper, hearing the sound of your wetness squelching in the air. You mewl. "You."
Rafe grunts at the confession. You try to keep your eyes set on him, to remember what you're doing, who you're doing it with, but the build-up is causing you to lose control and makes you close your eyes.
"Eyes." He demands, his voice sharper than before. You open them with great resistance, each second longer is a struggle to keep them focused on him. 
"Oh, god," you moan, quickening your pace as you connect your gaze with Rafe. The way he looking at you right now. It reminds you of the night at Topper's house, the time in the country club's bathroom. "Yes, yes, fuck."
He can't stand this. He's straining against his jeans, his cock painfully hard without any relief, while his wrists are bound and reddened by how tight you locked him in. How he's pushing against the leather, trying to break free.
You close your eyes again in pleasure. Your orgasm is getting close.
Rafe swallows hard. "You feelin' good, sweetheart?"
You nod eagerly, flicking your gaze back to him. "You enjoying the view?"
He clenches his jaw, not responding, but you can tell. The impressive outline of his bulge against his pants, how hungry his eyes are. How much he wants you.
It lights something carnal within you. You start to pump harder and faster inside your pussy, your moan growing louder and without inhibition; Rafe's very own porn show in front of him.
He has enough.
"I need to touch you." Rafe declares desperately, rising from his chair, his eyes never straying from the perfect image of you, on his bed, fucking yourself, writhing in ecstasy. "Come on, sweetheart, I can—fuck—I can make you feel so much better."
He's bargaining, goddammit.
A small laugh leaves you, mixed in with the sound of your own pleasure, and you don't acknowledge his comment. His pleads. He steps forward, closing the distance between the two of you.
Rafe growls out your name.
You glance up at him through a heavy-lidded gaze. "Hmm?" You say innocently, pulling your hand out of your pussy. His eyes glance down at your slickness glistening off your fingers, his chest tightening.
"Say yes." He demands weakly, his voice rough and filled with so much restraint, like he's seconds away from losing it. "Tell me I can touch you."
You pull yourself to your knees, bending before him, your smile full of satisfaction. "You want me that badly, baby?"
He doesn't even bother denying it anymore. "Yes."
"My pleasure, right, baby?"
"Fuck, yes," he groans. "Please."
You grin, bringing your wet fingers to his mouth and pressing it against his full lips. He takes you in, sucking your arousal clean from your hand, his eyes still on yours, and you, finally, finally nod.
"You can touch me."
Rafe breaks his belt buckle in one swift motion, surprising you, before his hands immediately cover your body, grabbing at any flesh he can find. His mouth claims yours, pulling you into a hungry kiss and pushing you back against the mattress as his weight pins you down.
"You can't get enough of me." You tease, moaning at how good he tastes, how you can taste yourself on him, and your fingers find his hair. When he breaks, his hard eyes land on your face.
"You don't know how fucking badly I want to punish you right now," he confesses lowly, his hand lowering to the space between your legs. "For torturing me like that."
"It doesn't feel good, does it?"
Rafe scoffs, capturing your cheeks in one large hand, squeezing them together. He runs the pad of his thumb across your bottom lip, mumbling, "this fucking mouth."
You provoke further. "You love it."
He doesn't answer you, silencing himself with a bruising kiss against your lips and sucking all the air out of your lungs. When his hand lands on your pussy, his fingers begin to run tight circles around your clit, causing you to arch into him.
"Oh, god," you moan into his mouth as he swallows the sound. Breaking from the kiss to glance down, he watches at how responsive your body is, how you're writhing under his touch, and smirks.
"Feels good?"
"So good," you whisper needily, "please keep doing that."
Rafe descends down your body, kissing a trail from the navel of your stomach to your wet cunt, aching and waiting just for him. "I'm going to make you come on my fingers, tongue, and face. Think you can do that for me, sweetheart?"
He doesn't give you time to answer, covering his mouth over your swollen nub and sucks.
"Oh, fuck," your hips involuntarily bucks against his face. He grins against your pussy, in satisfaction, at how good he's making you feel. At how good you taste. To be denied of this, for the past hour, was torture. He wants to pleasure and punish you, all in one. "Don't stop, don't stop."
Your legs wrap around his head in a lock as he ascends you towards your peak, slipping two thick fingers into your pussy. The size makes your walls clench around them. Rafe groans, the vibration against your clit pushing you further into your climax.
"Please don't stop, please." You moan in desperation, afraid of him pulling out again, tipping your head back against his pillows, your fingers gripping his hair harder. Rafe twists his fingers, entering at a new angle, allowing the cool sensation of his ring against your hot cunt and amplifies your sensitivity.
"I'm not going anywhere, baby."
Rafe quickens his pace, his fingers thrusting in with precision and hitting all the right spots. In addition, he slurps harder, tonguing your clit in a way that causes stars to blanket your vision. Writhing in pleasure, you moan and whimper, racing towards your orgasm. 
"Come for me," he commands, feeling your walls twitching towards a desperate end, “let me hear my girl."
You release with a heavy cry, coming on his face and slumping back against the bed from pure exhaustion. Combined with the day you had, the double shifts you've been pulling, and the incredible orgasm you're given, all you want to do is sleep.
"Get up," Rafe declares, but you don't move. "Come on, sweetheart."
"Give me five minutes," you yawn, holding out five fingers while your eyes flutter. "I just need to..."
You don't finish your sentence, closing your eyes for a brief moment. That's what you tell yourself, and the last thing you remember before you fall completely in your slumber. 
— read part five —
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sunderwight · 3 months
Text
Bingqiu AU where SY and LBH grow up as childhood friends (idk maybe they're both at QJP but Shen Jiu is less of an asshole, or maybe SY transmigrates into Random Village Bully Child No.3 when Binghe's mom is still alive -- or both) and there's none of the tension of the idea of "one day Luo Binghe is going to rip my limbs off" for Shen Yuan.
So he and LBH can just be bros! Fantastic! Shen Yuan has never had a little brother before but he's had a little sister, he knows how to do this. Just spoil the cute kid rotten!
It's only fair compensation for how many terrible things LBH is gonna have to endure on the road to ruling the world, after all. SY also feels more freedom to change minor aspects of the plot around, too, like maybe he'll stop Liu Qingge from dying, definitely he can help LBH get a better start to his cultivation journey, and maybe the abyss and xin mo thing doesn't really need to happen...?
The list of things SY considers meddling with ends up including wives.
Like really, come on now, Luo Binghe may be a stallion protagonist but there's no need for that many women. Especially when at least half of them are just increasingly cheap copies of the other half, and that's being generous about it. Some of PIDW Binghe's wives were, frankly, horrible people. And if he's being honest about it, it wasn't fair of Binghe himself to take on that many either. Even if anyone would naturally give their left arm to be the protagonist's wife, after a certain point Binghe just can't spend that much time actually with them! And then he can't form the kinds of deep and meaningful bonds which might actually help heal his trauma!
SY's not looking to interfere too much, of course. Ning Yingying is not his favorite wife, but she's fine. She causes trouble but it isn't on purpose, and she's genuinely sweet and willing to befriend Binghe before he's anything special (although even now, it's obvious Binghe is special). Ning Yingying can stay.
And of course, so can Best Wife Liu Mingyan.
But Sha Hualing? Well, she offers some political advantages, and as the demon wives go she's not the worst. She's kind of iconic and was very popular, but Shen Yuan thinks the harem could do without her scheming and malicious attitude towards the other wives. The cost of harmony was too high for the political bonuses offered, especially when Binghe might as well just take her ancestral lands by force and be done with it. He's going to advise against that match.
And the Qin sisters. Sure there's the legendary threesome, but Wanrong's dead weight and it never struck SY quite right how Qin Wanyue pressured Luo Binghe into sex. The threesome wasn't even good anyway.
Better Qin Wanyue than the Little Palace Mistress on that front, though. But aish, that's complicated, the Palace Mistress is even more politically vital to securing HHP than Sha Hualing is for her father's kingdom, and almost as bad for the peace and harmony of the harem. Ultimately SY will leave it up to Binghe, but if Binghe asks, he's going to advise against the Huan Hua wives too.
With thoughts like this in mind, SY starts talking to Binghe about how to establish a household, what to look for in a spouse (or twenty), and other topics of that nature. What sort of household Luo Binghe ought to strive to have, and what sorts of standards he should himself to. Also while of course assuring him that Shen Yuan isn't interested in women. Lest he worry that Shen Yuan might be trying to steal any of the wives from him, at any point. He's not competition!
SY: I am helping to pave the way for Binghe to have better marital relationships! I am the best big brother slash best buddy ever! don't worry, no matter what happens to Binghe, this gege will be your no.1 cheerleader forever!
LBH: is he saying I should get a palace if I want to marry him? well... that sounds reasonable. ok, I will do it! (•̀ ω •́)✧
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kalims · 1 year
Note
Can I please request any Twst character seeing their crush kiss their tsum?
⊹ kissing their tsum tsum
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premise. maybe leaving their tsum somewhere to come back to wasn't such a good idea anymore when it's clearly taking the attention of the person they like.
parts. floyd (i somehow forgot him help)
content. gender neutral reader
characters. riddle, leona, jack, epel, sebek
cw. written by someone who hasn't played through the event and does not know shit lol
note. are they just plushies??? or do they have a consciousness of their own??? I am so confused but wow I wrote somehow
I just slapped whoever had cards on the event onto here 😭 caters part is my favorite ugh
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riddle rosehearts
left his tsum in it's custom made velvet chair to grab another jar of sugar since riddle didn't know it ran out.
and yes, he had one made for it. smaller version of his own and stuff, it literally has better privileges than any other resident of the dorm.
^ he totally drinks tea with it and believes that even if it isn't actually alive it's him and if this tsum didn't drink tea at the exact time for a specific rule he still feels like he broke one.
he even pours a cup for it hekasbkqkas.
I mean the liquid doesn't get drank by anyone obviously but riddle still does it.
so as he's walking back, opening the chair to take a peek to see if it's enough cubes once he closes it, and looks up he almost just trips on air and drops the glass jar.
he fumbles with the object for a second, blinking rapidly at the sight of you snuggling into his tsum then giving it little kisses every now and then, did he hear you calling it cute—?
"wha...what in the world are you doing?!"
"it's so adorable.." you mumble, hearing the boy but it just goes in one ear and out the other.
good lord he doesn't know whether he'd like to melt into a puddle, combust from his red face, or be that tsum.
should he be jealous? no. but is he? yeah. even if he's denying it severely.
next session the tsum was left with no tea and was promptly caged in his room in hopes that you would not do all that to his tsum, and to his real self instead.
leona kingscholar
I honestly don't think he would really care for it??
I mean wow. it looks like him. cool. whatever. what's he supposed to do with it? it's just a plush no need to work up so much for it.
not that doing effort for it benefits him in anyone but he just keeps it on his bed since he didn't really wanna go anywhere else and his bed just happened to be near so...
*yoink*
no one tells him this, especially not ruggie but he actually sleeps with it. an arm over it sometimes and usually coddling it in his arms.
trust me ruggie has proof.
100 madol for 5 seconds fr
well as usual it's in his bed just there in it's habitat just like the real leona kingscholar.
even someone like him takes the time to actually go to the bathroom so while he's gone, and when he's on his way back he immediately knows you're there.
that's a scent he can recognize anywhere (well duh. bro spent so long tryna engrave it) and if he can smell you so close to his destination then obviously you're in his room.
also he left the door slightly closed and it's more open than before so that's that.
just like anyone else he completely stops before he could open his mouth and is actually flabbergasted and flustered?
why are you kissing his tsum?? "that's kinda creepy ain't it?" he drawls but his tucked ears says I wanna be it so bad.
"guess i'm creepy then."
you say simply and go back to coddling the damn thing. leona scowls at the relevation. there's no way a small, lame version of him is gonna win you like that!
move over so you can enjoy the real thing >:(
jack howl
mr. everyday is leg, arm, everything day guy.
I believe he's more of an outdoors dude, a very sweet outdoors dude.
the kind of sweet outdoors dude that would buy a miniature plushie version of weights for his tsum so it can get the eveyday is leg, arm, everything day too.
cute thing is jack is actually so proud of himself 😭 evident from the cute lil' wag of tail he does.
he's so pure!!
and him and his tsum totally 'work out' together.
well it's mainly him but he likes to think that his tsum is too. if he's doing an exercise that doesn't require a lot of moving his tsum is just there somewhere with it's weights facing him.
if he's running he has it on his shoulders awww..
sometimes he can get a little distracted though. from his intense focus he didn't even hear you approaching, let alone sitting down and basically hogging his tsum all to yourself!
at some point you just made the tsum copy whatever the real jack does. jack is doing push-ups? damnn.. tsum is doing is so easily.
you get the point.
it's only then when jack notices when he hears you and mistakes your comment for him.
"ahh, you did great cutie.. so strong, so cute." he hears you mumble and turns pink before turning back to look at you and the happy movement of his wolf traits pause.
oh that wasn't for him.
jack stares in envy. HE SWEARS THAT TSUM JUST SMIRKED AT HIM.. LITERALLY TRAITOR.
man just feels betrayed.
cater diamond
absolutely adores him tsum to bits!!
ever since he got it he practically drags it everywhere and his magicam page is full of it.
I reckon cater named it. maybe dia(mond) or something, if not then the classic cater 2.0 which is funny cause now he got 3 clones!!
^ the other two and now lil' cater 🎤
which makes me wonder. it'd totally be cute if he had like, two other tsums that are copies of the result of his unique magic. now it's actually cater 2.0 for real!
cater 2.0 is definitely more popular than some students so you could go up to one and say: you know who this is *picture of random student*
they'll be like: ehh... can't say I do, or seen them before
you holding up a picture of cater 2.0: what about this?
them: oh thats cater 2.0 obviously!
random student crying in the backround.
IMAGINEEE (laughs in pain)
ahem. he likes to have his tsums (tsums cause he actually got 3 to match himself) around everywhere so he can incorporate them into his selfies.
also he needs to feed everyone more cater 2.0's content. there's cater D, cater I, and cater A who all spell out dia :DD big brain
in the music room of his club where's he's peacefully testing out a riff behind him his tsums lay..
so obviously he didn't hear you shuffle into the room, let out the quietest gasp ever and just take the three into your arms and look like you're in heaven.
you stay like that for a while, smiling and hugging the tsums cause wow were they just adorable! and there's three of them!
you all spare the three a sweet kiss before realizing that the music has stopped and cater is pouting at you.
"aw that isn't fair!" he whined, and smiles cheekily. "these guys and I want some of that too!" he points to his two splits that has recently conjured.
now you got three miniature caters that got the kiss, and three real caters that want one yayy!
sebek zigvolt
said he was not going to care for.. something like that and if there was anything like.. that, the only thing he'd care of was one of malleus'.
then said that 'he wanted to educate the plush' even though it was a plush. he's already contradicting himself here, where's the hate??
legit just rambled to the plush for an hour straight preaching about the greatness and glory of his young master.
where silver actually woke up from! silver!! crazy, right?
it must have been a lot of even silver rose from it.
said he was not going to spend anything on it unlike the other people who had spent a hefty amount of madol for the comfort of their tsum and for them alone.
but he figured.. just getting a small painting of the young master so the tsum would look at it everyday isn't too much of a stretch.
that's what he said before and now he's on his way to get another smaller version merch of malleus.
god forbid if malleus ever came inside the room cause he's just gonna see a lot of stuff.. but don't worry cause sebek atleast has a separate corner for all that.
'I will not care for it' my ass.
of course he had completely forgotten that he had invited you over and was outside fetching his blade he forgot to bring inside.
as per dorm rules! don't want it flying away anywhere if a.. *coughs* storm suddenly appears.
lilia had already invited you in and insisted it was fine for you to enter sebek's room beforehand even with your doubts he just pushed you in and you weren't in a place to argue when he didn't even budge when you tried to stop.
once you just walked around out of curiosity it was only in due time where you would see the plush.
an idea pops in your head.
sebek did not expect to see you inside his room.
let alone on his bed, with his tsum in your arms and you dutifully committing yourself into showering it with love and affection.
he's just flabbergasted, shocked to silence, every synonym near to those. but there's an increasing amount of steam pouring out of his ears as his face twitches more by the minute.
"WHAT ARE YO—"
you kiss it so casually that sebek shuts up and almost faints out of embarrassment and fluster.
WHAT IS GOING ON?? he's so confused. WHO LET YOU IN??
bat chuckling somewhere
epel felmier
would very much like to dress up his tsum.
he knows because vil already saw the tsum looking like a monstrosity covered in dirt and leaves, only spared a disappointed look but stayed silent.
not in the way you'd think cause he feels like he can do whatever he'd like to this tsum and vil wouldn't really care like the man would to real epel.
a hallelujah for him honestly.
he doesn't really put much love to his tsum but it's pretty cute that's all. rook finds it way more appealing than him though which he isn't sure how to interpret.
epel doesn't leave it just anywhere when it's outside of pomefiore. cause students there are polite and definitely would not wreck a plushie that looks exactly like him.
if he did the tsum would probably disappear on campus and be found in a dumpster.
*chills* cause he somehow feels for the tsum.
when he's angry he just vents to it and vents whenever. including the times he's just having a crisis about you.
if that tsum was alive godddd epel would be so exposed.
he left the tsum somewhere outside, in the middle of the garden.
he was practicing his make-up there, as per vil's instructions and went out to go fetch a product he had forgotten to grab along with the others.
he figured he might as well take a cup of water as a drink to go.
epel is just gulping down the water when it's just coincidence that he lowers the cup, sees you, there's water still in his mouth, then you give his tsum a little cute kiss so he just spits it all out.
OH MY GOD WHAT WAS THAT. he thought completely out of it. he stares intensely at the tsum.
he's definitely regretting venting to the tsum about you cause epel somehow thinks it's somehow alive and is now rizzing you up, with the knowledge HE gave IT!
he's so mad help 😭
*epel trying to aggressively rizz you up too*
"you don't need that." *snatches and throws the tsum away*
IN JEALOUSY.
meanwhile you watch it fly with sad eyes. :(
mad epel.
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note. jesus christ I wrote all of this RIGHT AFTER I posted that /srs ☹ AND I DID ALL THIS IN LIKE AN HOUR HELP ME WHERE DID THAT COME FROM
commision me!
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meangirls-imagines · 2 months
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Regina's Protector
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WARNINGS: none, fluff, a lil violence (you slap cady), protective reader
cady heron.
the bane of y/n y/l/n's existence. 
you see, y/n had a reputation for being nice and friendly to everyone at north shore. that's why she balanced her girlfriend regina out so well. regina was the fire and y/n was the ice. the two had started dating early in their freshman year and quickly became the school's power couple.
the two were very protective of each other, regina lashing out more than y/n most of the time, but there had been a few of times that everyone witnessed just how protective y/n can be. (just ask shane or aaron or jake). 
enter cady heron. the new girl of junior year. this is where things take a turn.
y/n had a bad feeling about the redhead the first time she met her. especially when she caught a glimpse of her hanging out with janis. the bad feeling increased the first day they were in class together and cady began staring at her with heart eyes.
regina knew y/n wouldn't cheat on her. they were obsessed with each other, but the more cady hang out with their group, the more she noticed cady staring at her girlfriend. maybe y/n was right about this bad feeling about the girl. but, regina couldn't jump to conclusions just yet, she wanted to wait it out.
well, waiting it out was an awful idea on regina's part. 
shit went downhill very, very quickly. 
after cady continued to send heart eyes to y/n, regina had enough and became extra possessive of her girlfriend. cady wasn't backing down however, becoming more of a bitch as the days went on. she began to say sly remarks to y/n about regina, like how she was only with y/n for popularity and status. 
then the comments got bitchier. 
"you know, i thought i saw regina getting a little too close to shane again, you might wanna check your girlfriend, y/n."
"i heard regina is going around gloating about how she's only using you for sex."
y/n was a very small strike away from snapping. she knew the comments were affecting regina more than she let on and the fact that cady continued to make them, pissed y/n off to another degree. the day that y/n snapped, no one was expecting it.
y/n's friend chris was throwing a party at his house so her and regina were going together. it was a pool party so regina made sure to pick y/n's favorite of her bikinis to show off to her girlfriend. when they got to the party, they found karen, gretchen, and unfortunately cady. y/n set off to get her and regina drinks, kissing the girl softly before beginning her search.
after getting herself a beer and regina something fruity, she turned and saw cady looking at her, biting her lip. "can i help you with something cady?" the redhead shook her head. "just wanted to talk. you look really hot y/n." 
y/n rolled her eyes and set back to find her girlfriend. cady followed after the girl. "why are you with regina? you could do so much better than her." y/n stopped in her tracks, turning to cady. "excuse me?" cady shrugged. "i mean, you could go for someone skinnier, i see regina has put on a few extra pounds lately."
the next few seconds happened very quickly.
the drinks were dropped and y/n slapped cady right across the face. she began to spew off insults at the redhead. luckily, chris was near by and pulled y/n away before more damage could be done.
kicking cady out, he led y/n back to where the plastics were sunbathing, explaining what happened while making y/n sit on regina's sun lounger. the blonde immediately pulled y/n closer to her, rubbing her back in an effort to calm her down. 
karen and gretchen joined in on the hug, y/n smiling at the two. chris walked off, allowing the girls to have some privacy. 
regina and y/n decided to leave shortly after, regina wanting to get y/n to destress. karen and gretchen hugged the two, promising to be over later and the couple left.
once back at regina's house, the blonde changed into comfier clothes, pulling some out for y/n. the girl took them, pecked regina on the lips and went to change. the two laid in bed, netflix playing gently in the background. regina leaned up to kiss y/n's cheek.
"thank you for standing up for me baby. i appreciate it." y/n kissed the blonde's forehead, rubbing her arm. "of course baby. i wasn't going to let her talk about you like that." regina smiled and softly kissed y/n. "i'm so glad i have you baby." y/n smiled. "well, you'll have me for a very long time then baby. i don't plan on going anywhere."
regina smirked. "good. i intend on keeping you forever." 
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erideights · 7 months
Text
Little pieces here and there (2)
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Pairing: Buggy x Fem!Reader (One Piece Live Action)
Chapters: one, three, four, five
Word Count: 2K
Warnings: Flirting, suggestive flirting, heavy pinning
A/N: GUYS THIS CHAPTER HAS ME ON THE FLOOR, I HOPE YOU ENJOY, THANKS FOR YOUR PATIENCE and if you like it let me know to start preparing part 3 ♡ (sorry for any grammatical mistake!)
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"The One Piece will never be yours!" He shouted angrily, that -now- dwarf with a red nose, giant hands and feet, when he was defeated. Just like in a cartoon for kids.
"You're just a sad, lonely little boy wearing another man's hat!" She could not understand how it was possible that this intimidating, psychopathic, eccentric clown had turn around so quickly into this little thing that was so... dare she say pathetic, but she didn't wanna be too cruel to him.
The moment Luffy declared his intentions again, Buggy began to look around him, desperate for a way to escape, maybe one of his crew members who would miraculously come to the rescue, or an unexpected ally.  Like (Y/N).
"Wo wo wo wo, no no no no, wait wait!"
He opened his mouth and begged, probably to suggest some kind of pact, to promise (Y/N) a place among his crew like he did with Luffy before, but before he could say anything else, the rubber boy already threw him into the sky.
And that was the last time she thought she would see Buggy The Clown. Little did she know, she was wrong.
Oh, so wrong.
Let's say that the days to come were anything but calm. From the Kuro Incident™, at least they won Usopp's friendship and the Going Merry, one of the cutest ships she has ever seen, to be fair.
And then they arrived at the Baratie, where they met the oh, so attentive Sanji, Zoro was about to die, and Nami... Nami left with the fishmen. Although (Y/N) was on Luffy and Sanji's side when they claimed something bad was actually happening, because she wouldn't have chosen to leave with them just like that, without a hidden, ugly reason behind. Didn't fit in with the idea she had of the ginger.
"I know someone who knows where to find her," says her "captain" when they all discuss their next step.
"Hello boys!" Buggy's head coughs and exclaims in the most forced, sarcastic way possible. Imagine threatening to kill those people after kidnapping them less than a week ago, and now your life depends on them. Low blow, if someone asked her. "Sweetheart." He then smirked devilishly when he saw (Y/N) a little further back, resting her side on the kitchen counter. Surprised to see him and the way he calls her, she raises an eyebrow and gives a small, amused smile. "Hello Buggy."
"Arg, Doll! I'm so happy to see a beautiful face like yours around here." The clown shouts when (Y/N) comes out on deck after several hours organizing the pantries with Sanji. She looks at him out of the corner of her eye with a little smile on her lips when she leaves a snack for Usopp and goes towards the bow of the ship or, in fewer words = in the opposite direction to where her mere existence is spiritually needed. The clown is already tired of giving Usopp directions after all morning arguing where to go, so infatuated and hypnotized by the mysterious aura that surrounds the woman, he doesn’t give up, and his head floats in the direction of the girl, following her, resting right by her side as she sits on the ground, legs falling over the ship's railing and out to the sea.
"Pretty sure you didn't hear me back there" because the idea of someone ignoring him was unthinkable. A war crime. An insult to God itself. He was still Buggy The Clown, The Flashy Fool, even without his crew. Or his ship. Or his body. Fucking hell, what did he have left apart from the head? "I was saying I'm glad I'm not only surrounded by idiots. Having your beautiful face around here makes standing them much easier." He flirts, winking an eye, which (Y/N) doesn't fully get but finds kinda interesting. "We had a moment the other day, right? It wasn't just my imagination, I know it."
"Yeah, we totally had a moment" She agrees, clearly being sarcastic to everyone but him.  "You kidnapped us, you called me pretty, you searched me, I threatened you, you liked it..." she lists, lying her back on the deck, arms raised, own head resting on her hands, enjoying the breeze, the sun, and the smell of the salty water. 
"I loved it," he corrects her after emitting a little grunt of satisfaction, vividly remembering that scene. What would he not give to go back and enjoy it a little bit more before the rest of her crew ruined his entire day -week- so blatantly and unnecessarily over the top.
"You're welcome. Any time." She answers after an amused giggle, eyes closed.
"Don't tempt me."
"Now tell me," Buggy resumes the conversation after about 30 seconds of silence. He clearly doesn't know how to enjoy it. He is that type of person for whom silence not only makes him uncomfortable, but also terrifies him. Theatre kid. "What's a woman like you doing with a bunch of insufferable kids like them? I know they're trying to organize their boy band and go on adventures around the world, but you... you should look for someone more suitable to your needs, capable of giving you different stimuli. More mature." He adds in the end with a low, seductive tone of voice, shamelessly feeding on the image of the curve of her body now that she's not paying visual attention to him.
"Hmhm. Maybe I'll look for them." She answers nonchalantly, just because. She finds really entertaining this type of tug-flirting-war. Even if he's the only one that flirts and she just gives him opportunities to do so.
"You don't have to look too far." He was so cliché, how cute.
"You talk too much to be no more than a floating head."
"I could always put my tongue to better use." Snapping her eyes open, (Y/N) holds her breath for a second, taking in what she just heard = what he just offered. That would be, literally, giving head. In all the glorious sense of the expression. Raising both eyebrows, she turns her face on the ground to observe him, nibbling at her lower lip. She seems to consider it for a few seconds, because no, she cannot deny how interesting and, at the same time, weird, degenerate, the idea is. But before he has the opportunity to keep talking his way into convincing her, she breaks into a cruel smile and decides to cut his mood "You mean like guiding us to the Konomi islands instead of talking with me? You're right, you should get back to work."
He looks at her like he was just betrayed by his second in command, hoping she would agree by the expression on her face seconds ago, the way she looked at him and how she was biting her own lip in that tortuous way that pushed him to want -need- to do it by himself.
"Wait, no need to play difficult with me sweetheart, I--" But it's too late, (Y/N) is already standing, grabbing Buggy's head between her hands, and before he could add anything else, she winks at him, kiss one of his cheeks, screams at the top of his lungs "USOPP!! CATCH HIM!" and throws his head like she was playing volleyball, Usopp jumping to be able to reach him, both of them celebrating the pass like children, ignoring Buggy's complaints.
The third time he flirts -tries to- with her, she's back on the deck, helping Zoro and Sanji moving some things around. He begins to scream desperately, and knowing damn well that if no one pays attention to him he won't stop even if that means losing his voice, she approaches, hands on her hips, sighing as she looks at him like someone that is about to regret getting close to a crying, annoying child. "What's wrong with you?" she asks dryly, pressing her lips together. "Ah, my guardian angel. Could you do me the favor of scratching me behind my ear?" Oh. A waaay more harmless request than she expected. Of course, she relents, because she sees nothing wrong with this small favor; she’s quite the empathetic, and in his place she would surely prefer to jump headfirst -ba dum tss- into the sea rather than suffer that itch and not be able to scratch it. After granting his wish, just as she is about to leave, Buggy moves his head much faster than anyone would predict, to catch one of the girl's fingers in his mouth and suck and lick and nibble, in a… God, a sample of what he could do with his tongue somewhere else.
A shiver runs down (Y/N)'s spine, and it reaches a pleasurable end between her legs, causing her to press them together as she inhales deeply.
"Wanna see what else I can do?" He whispers as he releases her. She can hear him over the crash of the waves against the hull of the boat, eyes fixed on his face, will to complain nowhere to be seen. Bold, not in a hundred years she would have expected that. And for a moment, she is tempted. That has been undeniably attractive. And it had a really strong effect on her. "I would gladly show you if you let me, you just have to ask, sugar lips. I bet it's been a damn long time you don't treat yourself--"
"(Y/N)!!" Zoro calls her, instantly exploding the bubble between Buggy and her.
She sighs in relief because only God knows she was close to give up. Then swallows, shakes her head exaggeratedly to shake herself out of his spell, and, licking her lips, gives the clown a mischievous smile, recomposing herself. "Nice try"
"Stop trying to deny the obvious" He tried again for the... 5th time? She /really/ lost count during their journey. Appearing from nowhere, he startled her in the process. He was now in a shelf of the kitchen, at the same height as the girl's face. "The chemistry between us is unbearable, you can see it from miles away." Jumping to approach the edge of the shelf, his eyes look her up and down. "Turns me on how you play hard to get because I don't like easy things either, so I respect your game," he nods, raising an eyebrow "But come on... I know you like me. I've seen how you look at me or bite your lip when I flirt with you, you have nothing to be ashamed of."
This whole thing was really trying her patience. Not because she wanted to fuck him off, but because she knows that all that flirting would end with her giving in and doing something she certainly shouldn't. As of for now, he had gotten her to vaguely consider it, and she had to admit, she was growing some kind of attraction slash fondness slash crush for him, but it wasn't enough to fall to her knees.
He wanted war, tho? He would have it.
"You're right, I like you, but you know, I like my men body and all, capable of grabbing me by the hips and pushing me on theirs, to fuck me and make me scream their name until I lose my voice. To make it difficult for me to walk straight the day after." she whispers, approaching him slowly until they share the same air, her nose touching his red one. (Y/N) closes her eyes, taking a deep breath as her tongue caresses her own lips, almost touching the clown’s ones too. Yes, she likes him, she has some sort of twisted soft spot for men who ranged from intimidating psychopath to the most pathetic human being depending on the day, and Buggy was the perfect example for that. "And you..." she tilts her head to the side, attempting to close the distance between each other and kiss him, but at the last second she withdraws, leaving the poor clown with his eyes closed, waiting for the touch of her dreamy lips. "Unfortunately you're just a head."
"Try again when you get your whole body back!"
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riki-dazed · 30 days
Text
enemies with benefits
NSFW smut · block & don't read if you're uncomfortable · fingering, cursing, lil smug shit riki · wc: 1668 · requested
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Your best friend drags you along for a night out which leads to an unexpected encounter with a boy you're not very fond of, Riki. The evening ends with him being knuckles deep in you, in your car.
You stop in your tracks in the middle of the street, "What do you mean Riki's there?"
The evening breeze feels cool against your skin as you're on your way to a restaurant with your best friend, the two of you had made plans to meet her boyfriend and another mutual friend.
"I didn't want to tell you cause I knew you wouldn't comeee," Your friend whines, pulling at your arm to drag your body along, "It won't take long. We'll just grab a bite and then leave, okay?"
You stare at her more shocked than upset as you let her pull you into the restaurant and out of the cold night's air. She was right.. If you knew Nishimura Riki was going to be there, you probably wouldn't have agreed on going out with them. On a good day, you and Riki would get by with a small argument. The both of you can barely get along when together, the clash of your personalities being a perfect match made in hell.
"Over here!" You hear Jake's familiar voice call, causing both of your gazes to shoot in his direction when you step through the door. Your friend smiles excitedly, and hurries over to greet him.
Unlike her, you stand still in your spot, your gaze shifts to the boy sat next to Jake in the booth. His dark hair's styled perfectly, a familiar leather jacket hugs his shoulders just right. His eyes are focused on his phone, so he doesn't notice when you take a seat directly in front of him moments later. Your friend waits for you to sit before she takes a seat beside you.
"Hi Riki," She smiles, his gaze shifts off his phone to look up at her, he nods, and then settles his eyes upon you.
He suddenly doesn't seem too amused anymore, "Why's she here,"
"Hello to you too," You mumble under your breath, slightly annoyed. You look down at the table to avoid his gaze, suddenly feeling one of your feet being kicked underneath the table. Though, in a playful manner.
Was that him?
"Can we all please just get along for an hour," Jake sighs, a small, hopeful smile plays on his lips as he tries to plead with mostly his friend that's sat beside him. Riki scoffs.
"I told you this was a bad idea, babe," Your friend adds, eyeing her boyfriend.
The two exchange looks of uncertainty, causing you to let out a sigh at the table. You stand up, gathering your bag and phone, already fed up with Riki's attitude after only a couple of minutes.
You look at your friend, waiting for her to move out of the way so you can squeeze out the booth. You speak hurriedly, "Jake can drop you off, right? I'll just head off now,"
"We've already ordered your food," Riki speaks from across the table, you watch him with your eyebrows furrowed. Gaze piercing, his eyes move from your face to the plush seat you just pulled yourself off, "Sit."
With a huff, you do as he says, not wanting to bicker on further. Riki picks up his phone, you eye him cautiously as yours vibrates moments later. Surely that wasn't him you think as your eyes stay locked onto his. Though, the menacing smirk that's playing on his face is giving you reason to believe otherwise.
You pick up your device, your breath almost getting caught in the back of your throat as you briefly scan over the text you've just received... From no other than the smug boy who's currently scanning your face for your reaction.
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"Oh fuck off," You mutter unamused, immediately placing your phone face down onto the table. The couple's eyes are now back on you, wondering what just happened.
"My brother texted asking for money," You smile awkwardly, they nod obliviously and get back to their conversation.
...
"You'll be fine," Your friend smiles, patting you on your head. You're left standing there in the dark, completely and utterly dumbfounded.
How could they do this to me?
"You're a bitch," You half-joke as you watch her get into Jake's car, a grin plastered across her pretty face as she waves you bye. The tall figure beside you also watches their car drive away, he's just as quiet as you are. You don't know how to break the silence.
You actually spent most of the evening in silence, trying not to make eye contact with Riki after he had sent that unhinged text to you. It was hard, though, boy was it hard to not look at him. Especially when all you had in your brain were images of him fucking you in that same leather jacket the previous week.
To make matters worse, your friend decided she wanted Jake to stay the night at her house. Maybe she did it on purpose? But surely she couldn't have known about the nights you've spent with Riki; no one knows... Except the boy who suddenly decides to break the silence with his deep voice.
"Do you want me to drive?" He pulls you out of your thoughs, the both of you still not looking at one another.
"You can fucking walk home," You sneer in reply, turning to walk towards your car. You hear footsteps following behind you shortly after.
The drive to his dorm is silent, no music is listened to, no words are exchanged. The silence between the both of you is so incredibly loud, your thoughts run wild as you notice him looking over at you from the passenger seat. All you can think about in this current moment is how things never end well when the two of you are left alone, especially during the night. You suddenly start wishing you knew you were going to be seeing him this evening, maybe you would have put in a little more effort into getting ready. You'd never want him to know that, though. After all, you hated him, and he hated you. Who cared. Definitely not you... Right?
You stop your car in a parking lot across the street from his building, more silence ensues. You can't help but feel a little breathless knowing how close Riki currently is to your presence.
Please leave quickly
"I can't stand being in public with you," He speaks, his voice is hushed. His eyes are focused on you, but you continue looking straight ahead over the steering wheel.
"I'm glad the feeling is mutual, passenger princess,"
"Because I can't fucking control myself around you, Y/n, "
You shift your gaze to look at him briefly after his sudden statement, a feeling of dizziness washes over your body as you look back over the wheel immediately. You hope he climbs out of your car soon. Very soon.
An enticing chuckle escapes Riki's lips when he notices your thighs shifting in their place, he watches your face as you try to steady your heart rate. After a few short, silent moments, he reaches his arm closest to you out, his hand hiking your skirt up your thighs.
"What- What are you doing?" Your voice is breathless, the feeling of his touch against your thighs igniting something feral within you.
His hand finds its way past the hem of your panties, his cold fingertips settling upon your soaked core. He can't stop smirking to himself over just how wet you are for him. You squirm in your seat, the unexpected and sudden touch causing your stomach to drop.
"I'm doing you a favour," He replies unruffled, as if fingering you in a dark parking lot was a completely normal thing for him to do on a random weekday.
Your hands grip onto the steering wheel as you try to steady yourself, your abdomen tilting automatically to give him more access. You scan his face, the sight of him intently focusing on his work under the fabric of your panties alone seems like it's enough to send you over the edge. His eyebrows come together as he continues fixating on getting you off.
Your hips work alongside his fingers' movements between your folds, your grinding against his touch becoming faster and harder as the seconds tick by. Your gaze drops to his lap, a hushed moan falls out of your lips at the sight of his free hand moving about the inside of his pants.
Am I in heaven?
You chant his name quietly, over and over, signifying that you're about to cross the finish line. Riki takes your trembling as a hint to keep his motions against your clit steady and unchanged.
"Fuck, Y/n," He groans, his fingers now pumping into you rapidly, "Cum for me,"
Your body continues to make involuntarily movements against his digits as you create a mess all over his hand, and your poor car seat. You yourself are a panting mess, somehow even too embarrassed to look over at his face. He's seen you in much less clothing before, but something about having Riki watch you be so insanely needy for him and his fingers left you a little humiliated. He keeps his hand in place, rubbing comforting circles against your sensitive skin.
"I still- god, fuck, I sill hate you," You try to regain your breath, stammering over your words as you watch Riki take his fingers into his mouth, licking them clean from the mess that you left behind on them.
Fuck
"This changes nothing," He smiles, referring to the agreement between the two of you.
You watch the tall boy leave the vehicle without another word. Little do you know that he's hurrying off to his dorm, in desperate need to finish off the job awaiting him within his pants.
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