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#ALSO YES I LOVE ALL THESE GIRLS NO HATE AGAINST THEM
patscorner · 2 days
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write a Paige fic with them being rivals on the court but secret lovers off the court please and thank you patty🫶
yes ma'am 🫡
Always and Forever
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Summary: You and Paige hate each other, or that's what you have everyone else thinking.
wc: 1,780
Contains: swearing, two kisses, just fluff
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For as long as you could remember, you loved basketball. You don't know when it started, but you knew that it was gonna be your future career. You joined your first team in 5th grade, and quickly became MVP, making progress faster than you could blink.
There was another girl in your class, and for whatever reason, she hated you. She also happened to be on the same basketball team. She made it known she didn't like you, because the first day of tryouts, she shoved you for no reason. Her hatred for you didn't stop there though, she refused to pass the ball to you, even if it meant costing your team a game, or taking unnecessary risks.
Nobody knew why she disliked you, but that animosity only grew as you both did. But there wasn't anything you could do, you both loved basketball, and you weren't gonna stop playing because some kid didn't like you.
But what you didn't know is that she felt the exact opposite. She was so painfully in love with you and so deep in the closet that she didn't know what to do with these feelings. Her only solution was to make you hate her.
Another thing you didn't know is that you felt the exact same way. If an outsider were to look at you two, you'd think it was one of the most intense long lasting rivalries of all time. But you two were head over heels for each other.
You only found out your junior year in high school, because the teachers and coaches were tired of you both bickering. They put you two in a room and told you to figure your shit out. Obviously, it started in a screaming match, but eventually you both grew tired of arguing, and a different type of tension filled the room.
You both start to have an actual conversation, without the arguing and fighting. Of course, there were small jabs at each other, you both still weren't friends, but by the end of the day, you weren’t enemies. Nobody knew that you were gay, so the only solution in your eyes was to pretend to hate each other.
Eventually, she admitted her feelings for you, and you didn't say you liked her back, but instead answered with a kiss. You started dating shortly after, and decided to keep your relationship on the down low. You both know it's for the best, as not everyone was open to the idea of you being gay, including your parents, so you both continued pretending to hate each other.
Even if everybody else thought you couldn’t stand each other, you were so head over heels for the kid who hated you for all of elementary and middle school.
Little did you know that kid would end up being the Paige Bueckers.
“So how does it feel being matched up against Paige Bueckers? I know that you guys have a long history.” the reporter asks, her smile matching yours. Oh, you have history. She's been your girlfriend for about five years now, but the media didn't know.
You and her were never super far from each other, since she got accepted to Uconn, and you got a scholarship to CCSU. The colleges were only thirty-five minutes away from each other, so that made seeing each other much easier.
“Yeah, it's gonna be tough, she's a good basketball player, y’know, great defense, amazing three-pointers.” You smile at the camera. “I'm excited, I can't wait to absolutely destroy her. I've done it before, and I'll do it again, no problem.”
The reporter chuckles at your words. “Big talk, can't wait to see the match up. Anything last words for Paige?” You can't help but smile at the reporter’s egging you on.
“Yeah, give me your worst, Bueckers. I'm coming for you, baby.” You say with a wink, before thanking the reporter, and walking away. You can't help but shake your head at the ridiculousness of your empty words. Everyone but Paige thought you were being serious, and to an extent you were, you had a bet with her that you'd score more than twenty points this game, but the rest was bullshit.
Of course, Paige saw the interview, laughing at your ‘seriousness’. So when it was her turn to be interviewed, she had to say something back.
“I mean, it'll be a fun game. Can't wait to see the big game that CCSU’s ‘top player’ was yapping about.” She throws up hand quotations and tilts her head mockingly as she speaks. “I'm excited to bring her hell and knock her off that tall ass high horse she's sat herself on.”
The reporter is eating up every word coming out of Paige’s mouth.
“Lots of trash talk from both ends, it seems the feud continues?” Paige nods and smiles. “Always and forever.” She winks at the camera as she speaks.
Always and forever.
The words Paige made you repeat back to her when she gave you the promise ring that you had safety-pinned to your jersey at all times. When you first put it there, it sent the media into a spiral, rumors spreading like wildfires. When interviewers finally asked you about it, you said there was someone, but the rumors about who were all incorrect.
Nobody would've guessed Paige, and you both made sure to keep it that way.
The game was just as tough as you imagined it would be. With 4 seconds left in the fourth quarter, the score was tied, 89-89. It was the Huskies ball, and they had one chance to win.
Nika passes the ball to Aubrey from out-of-bounds, starting the shot clock. Aubrey sneaks past defense, and attempts to pass into Paige. But, Aubrey's defender blocks the shot with her fingers, sending the ball flying into your hands.
You react quickly, sprinting back towards the basket, watching as the shot clock hits one second. You're only half-court, but you don't have enough time to get any closer, so you take the risk and let the ball fly.
Just as the ball leaves your hands, the buzzer goes off, and the stadium goes silent as the ball soars through the air. You freeze as you watch the ball fall through the net, the crowd erupting into screams. Your shot went in, making the final score 92-89.
You're immediately surrounded by your teammates, who are chest bumping you, and dapping you up. This moment is something you never want to end, but there's something missing. This moment won't be the same without one thing.
You manage to wiggle free from your extremely hyped up teammates, ignoring your name being called as you make your way to the Uconn bench. You try to ignore the eyes on you, as you find the only person you want to ever have to look for.
When you spot the back of her head, you quickly make your way to her before your confidence runs out. You pull her sleeve, and her eyebrows furrow as she makes eye contact with you.
“What-” She starts, but you cut her off.
“I'm going to kiss you now.” You say, but you don't move. You want to make sure this is what she wants, but as the smile grows on her face, her compliance becomes clear.
“Okay.” she nods as her face turns a bright pink.
You grin as you pull her into a searing kiss, her hands finding your waist as she reciprocates your passion. You hear the gasps around you, which only makes you smile more. When you feel Paige grin against your mouth, you wrap your arms around her neck.
She pulls away, laughing as your whine. Even though there's thousands of people in the room, she only cares about you. “Guess they know now.” she chuckles.
“Paige Madison Bueckers! What the fuck?!” KK screams, causing Paige to roll her eyes and look over her shoulder. “Can I help you?” She deadpans. “I'm a little busy right now.”
KK’s jaw drops even more from the audacity. "I can see that, I better be filled in after."
Paige looks back at you and smiles. “Yeah, later. Now, do you mind?”
“Oh, by all means, continue making out with your arch-nemesis. Don't let me, the six giant cameras, or the sold-out arena stop you.”
You laugh at this, kissing Paige’s cheek before pulling away. You look at your team, and around the stadium, and everyone's sharing the same expression, jaws dropped, eyes wide, and frozen in shock. You look up, and see yourself on the big screen.
Paige smiles down at you, her arm still wrapped around your waist. “I can't believe you did that. You're fucking crazy.”
You shrug and smile. “You love it.”
She kisses the top of your head. “Damn right.”
After the excitement of the kiss calmed down, the same reporter from earlier asked to interview both of you, to which you of course said yes.
“So what is your guys’ relationship status?” She asked, pointing the mic in your direction. You smile widely before answering. “Paige is my girlfriend, and she has been for five, almost six years.”
The reporter shakes her head in shock. “What made you guys choose to keep it a secret and cover it up with a seemingly harsh feud?” This time, she hands the mic to Paige, who shakes her head.
“Well, it started out real. Like I could not stand her, ever since we were on the same basketball team in fifth grade. But eventually, I started to like her, then I started to love her. Turns out she liked me too, so in high school we started to date.” She finished with a shrug.
“Oh wow, I mean this is a shock to everyone. You both played it off very well. What were some of the hardest moments?” You nod as the reporter speaks.
“Probably pretending to not care, especially if one of us has a rough loss or a great win. It was hard not to comfort or celebrate publicly.” You say.
“So everything after junior year in high school was fake? The rivalry, I mean.”
You smile. “Yeah, it was all for the cameras.” Paige’s eyes light up as she looks down at you. The camera picked up on the sparkle in her eyes as she looked at you with nothing but love.
Her hands squeeze your waist as the interview ends, and you both walk away. It felt like a huge weight had been lifted off your shoulders, and you've never felt happier.
You knew that whether the world knew or not, it was gonna be you and her.
Always and forever.
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taglist: @wintersstan @bueckerslover @lilia22hicks @fake-intelligences @girlokwhatever @pbloverr @breeloveschris
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moondustpugh · 2 days
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The Hate Formula
Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader
Summary: Living in the same building, across from each other shouldn't be much of a problem, right? But how come you and Joe tend to always push each other's buttons every day? Is it because you both truly just hated each other or is it because there was something more to it?
Author's Note: Let the chaos begin! This was a really fun chapter to write, so I hope you all enjoy! :)
Disclaimer: 18+
Wordcount: 3.4K
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part one - part two - part three - part four - part five - part six - part seven - part eight - part nine - part ten
“Oh god! Yes, Joe!”
Your eyes snapped open as you grabbed the pillow from behind you and set it over your head. You closed your eyes again and forced yourself to fall back to sleep. It was about 2am, and you still had work the next morning. The last thing you wanted to hear was some random woman crying out Joe’s name in the middle of the night.
“Yes! Yes! Fuck!”
Exhaling a sharp breath, you took the pillow off your head, kicked your comforter frustratingly and swung your legs over your bed. Letting your feet touch the cold wooden floors, you reached over to turn on the light from your lamp and slid your robe around your body. 
“Jesus fucking Christ!” You cursed under your breath when you saw what time it was. 
“Yes! Ah–Joe!” 
Shaking your head, you walked out of your room, out the door of your apartment and into the elevator. The amount of noise complaints that you have filed for Joe for the last two years have been–well– countless. You have filed so many that you have lost track of the amount, and you at least have one almost every month. It wasn’t like you enjoyed walking into your landlord’s office every morning and complaining that the women that Joe would bring home were always too loud. You didn’t need to hear them cry out his name nor hear their moans in the middle of the night, especially on the nights that you have work the next day. 
The noises were worse during the weekends, and you didn’t exactly remember when all of this started. Maybe a month or two after you have moved into the building. All you knew was that this has been going on for the last two years, and it all started on a Sunday night when you were trying to go to sleep early since you have work the next morning, and you heard a woman moaning Joe’s name literally outside the hall. 
When you had opened your front door, you saw the woman pinned against Joe’s front door. His lips on her chest, and his hand was basically grabbing her ass. One leg curled around his hip, and she kept moaning his name. Sighing and rolling your eyes, you walked over to them and tapped Joe on his shoulder. Then, Joe pulled away and the both of them immediately froze and turned to face you. The woman looked annoyed, and Joe’s brows were all knitted together. He also looked annoyed over the fact that you had interrupted his little makeout session in the middle of the hall. 
You could tell that he was a bit drunk by just looking at his glassy eyes and his flushed cheeks. A smirk appeared across his face the moment he saw you standing there, your arms crossed in front of your chest. 
“What is it, love?” Joe asked.
You made a face as soon as you heard the little nickname that Joe had given you. Even in front of the girl that he was making out with, nothing stopped him from flirting with another one. He didn’t care at all about anything. 
“It’s midnight. I can literally hear the both of you through my front door and all the way into my room.”
You heard the woman scoff and saw how she rolled her eyes at you as Joe set her back down. He looked around the quiet empty hallway and turned back to you. 
“No one else is complaining about it.” Joe argued. 
“Take it inside your apartment or I’m gonna file a complaint about you.” You warned him.
Walking away, you sighed in frustration as soon as you closed the door behind you. Settling back in your bed, you pulled the covers close to your chest and closed your eyes. You were tired, and you just wanted to sleep. However, the moment you started drifting off, you started hearing the woman moaning Joe’s name again.
“Ugh!” You groaned in frustration, grabbing your other pillow and set it over your head. 
You didn’t sleep a wink that night, and you immediately went straight to the landlord’s office early in the morning. You had dark circles under your eyes, and you had decided to work from home that day. 
“Mrs. Johnson, I can literally hear them all the way to my room.” You complained. 
Mrs. Johnson sighed, leaning back against her chair and gave you a look. She looked like she didn’t believe a word you said as you continued to explain that this wasn’t the first time you have been hearing these noises.
“Mrs. Johnson, it gets worse on the weekends. I mean… fine, it’s the weekend but really? I have work the next day, and I can’t sleep because of him.”
“I’ll give him a warning.” Mrs. Johnson stated. “If he doesn’t stop then, I’ll talk to him and see what we can do.”
Pursing your lips, you nodded your head and sighed. You entered the elevator going back up to your apartment, feeling defeated and pissed off. You could clearly see her face when you told her what was going on and even if she didn’t have to say anything, you knew she didn’t believe you. You couldn’t help but wonder if it was because Joe was an actor, and he had bigger privileges than you. That just wouldn’t be fair. 
Entering your apartment, you saw Sara sitting on the dining table with her work laptop in front of her. A surprise look washed over her face when she saw you enter the apartment, still in your pajamas and robe. 
“I thought you already left for work?” Sara asked, her eyes scanning your current state.
You looked exhausted.
“I should be asking you the same thing.” You murmured, walking into the kitchen and pouring yourself a cup of coffee. 
“I decided to work from home.” Sara replied.
“That makes two of us.” You exhaled a sharp breath and sat across from her on the dining table. 
“Where did you go?”
You shook your head and rolled your eyes recalling what just happened back in Mrs. Johnson’s office. For some reason, with the way Mrs. Johnson was reacting to your little complaint, you sort of felt embarrassed. You went there early in the morning to complain about Joe for fuck’s sake. But it wasn’t your fault. They really were loud last night, and you couldn’t sleep. 
How come it felt like you were the bad guy here?
“Downstairs.” You bit your lower lip, playing with your coffee mug. “Complained to Mrs. Johnson about Joe’s little noise last night.”
“Ohmygod.” Sara rubbed her forehead softly. “Why? What happened now?”
“Sara, didn’t you hear how loud they were last night?” 
It was only 7am, and you were already frustrated and stressed over this situation. How was Joe able to just tick you off like this even when he wasn’t even around at the moment?
“No?” Sara furrowed her brows. “Don’t you think it’s time to put a stop to this? Do you two always have to banter in the middle of the hall all the time?”
You scoffed, shaking your head. “Sara, I literally couldn’t sleep last night. Are you on my side or his?”
“I’m on the ‘I wanna keep living here’ side.” Sara answered. “You both are lucky that none of the other tenants have filed a complaint with both of your loud bantering in the middle of the hall all the time.” 
Slumping on your chair, you took a sip of your coffee and gazed out of the big glass window for a moment. Sara could see the anger in your face, and it wasn’t just anger. There was some resentment in it too. She wondered if there was an end goal to this little game that you two were playing, and she wondered if you both would ever get tired of it. 
“Did you really not hear anything from last night?” You asked, your voice low. 
“No,” Sara replied, her eyes focused on her laptop again. “I don’t hear anything from his end.”
“Maybe because your room is farther.” You mumbled under your breath, taking another sip of your coffee.
“Maybe…” Sara elongated her words, reluctant to tell you what she really thinks. “Maybe you tend to hyperfixate your attention to him, that's why every thing he does, you sort of notice or hear it.” 
You stared at Sara for a moment before grimacing at the comment she just told you. Sara didn’t know what she was talking about. She has no idea how much hate you held into that man. She didn’t understand how much you just wished he would leave you alone. 
“He’s the last thing that I could be thinking of when I go to bed.” You shook your head and redacted your statement, “Wait, what am I saying? He’s never in my head. I don’t bother thinking of him.”
“Mhmm…” Sara’s eyes were laser focused on her laptop screen.
She didn’t bother arguing with you if you were only just going to keep denying the real reason as to why you kept up this little game with Joe. However, she didn’t think that Joe would also play the game that you started because he also came knocking on your door one Saturday night. You and Sara were watching a comedy movie in your living room, minding your own business and enjoying your night when you both heard a knock. Both of you exchanged looks for a moment. You both didn’t expect anyone coming over, so who was knocking on your door at this hour? 
The moment you swung the door open, you saw Joe standing there waiting for you. The expression on his face was telling you that he was here to irritate you on your peaceful Saturday night. 
“What do you want, Joe?” You asked, crossing your arms on your chest. 
Joe gave you a smile and said, “Can you please turn your laughter down a little? I can hear it all the way across the hall.” 
Was he playing with you? 
Was this his little revenge from the way you interrupted his little makeout session about a month ago? 
“What? She’s not screaming your name loud enough?” You raised your brow at him, anger already slowly coursing through your veins. 
Joe’s grin widened as he took a step forward. His lips grazed over your earlobe, a shiver sent down your spine when you realized how close he was with you. You could practically feel his breathing on your ear. You stood there frozen, your feet glued to the ground, and you could feel him grinning in your ear.
“I like to hear her moan my name clearly.” He whispered.
Immediately, that good feeling that rushed down your body faded as you scrunch your face and pushed him away from you. He laughed softly, stumbling back, and you could see his eyes twinkling in merriment. 
“You’re fucking disgusting!” You exclaimed. 
“If you don’t keep it down, love, I’m gonna file a complaint.” Joe’s voice sounded playful. 
“Then file a complaint. I don’t fucking care, you disgusting pig!” You yelled before slamming the door on his face. 
Shaking the memories away, you exited out of the elevator and pulled your robe closer to your chest. It was in the middle of the night and luckily for you, Mrs. Johnson was still awake. Sometimes you wonder if she ever slept because she was always in her office 24/7. Although, that was the least of your worries right now. Entering her office, she gazed up at you and immediately her eyes rolled to the back of her head as she let out an annoyed sigh. 
“What is it this time?” She asked. 
“It’s literally been going on for an hour now. I can hear it all the way to my bedroom.” You complained. 
Without saying a word, Mrs. Johnson got up from her chair as you followed her towards the elevator. Tension in the air blanketed the both of you as you both waited for the elevator to take you back up to your floor. You crossed your arms in front of your chest and bit your lower lip. You could see from the corner of your eye that Mrs. Johnson looked pissed. 
When the elevator doors opened, you couldn’t help but sigh in relief as the tension left between the both of you. You stood behind Mrs. Johnson as she knocked on Joe’s door. You could hear silent voices behind the door suddenly stopped. When the door swung open, you and Mrs. Johnson gasped in surprise and immediately turned away. 
“Oh my god!” You exclaimed, turning your back to Joe. 
He was literally naked and a small towel was the only thing covering his front. Mrs. Johnson was even more frustrated as she shook her head, her hands found her hips. 
“Mr. Quinn, is this how you greet your guests?” She asked, her voice cold. 
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Johnson. I thought it was just her.” Joe disappeared from behind his door and grabbed a bigger towel to wrap it around his waist before stepping out from behind the door again. 
You knitted your brows. What did he mean by that? So, was he doing all of this on purpose? He purposely knew that you were going to be on the other side of the door, so he was acting like this? 
What a fucking asshole.
Your blood was literally boiling as you side eyed him, and he was giving you a devious grin. His eyes were only to you, and he didn’t even care that Mrs. Johnson was literally in front of him. She sighed and rubbed her forehead as she looked over her shoulder to look at you before turning back to Joe. 
“The two of you are literally the worst part of my job.” Mrs. Johnson murmured. 
Your eyes widened as you turned to face both of them. How were you the bad guy all the time? Joe was the one who was always causing trouble, and you were just telling her the truth! 
“He’s literally the one who’s making noises all the time!” You argued.
Joe scoffed at your argument, “Me? I can hear your goose laugh all the way to my apartment all the time!”
Your jaw dropped on the floor as you took a step forward towards him, your eyes sparking in anger. 
“Oh, yeah? Does the whole floor really have to hear you having sex all the time?”
“Does the whole floor have to hear your annoying laugh all the time?” Joe argued, taking a step forward towards you too.
“At least I’m not a fuckboy who brings different women every night, thinking he’s all that.”
“At least I’m not spending my weekends with cheap pizza and a pint of ice cream all the time.”
“I’ll rather spend my Saturday nights with cheap pizza and a pint of ice cream than breaking a woman’s heart and leading them on, acting like I’m interested but really, I’m just a player who loves the fucking attention!”
Joe knitted his brows, his eyes blinking at the argument you threw at him. Suddenly, he realized there was a deeper meaning in the sentence that you just yelled at him. He stared at you, stunned and didn’t know what to say. Mrs. Johnson pushed the both of you away from each other as she stepped in between the two of you. 
“Enough!” She exclaimed. 
Joe saw the look on your face when you realized what you told him as the both of you slowly looked away from each other and turned to Mrs. Johnson, who looked angry and exhausted. 
“I’ve had enough of both of you! One more complaint and I will kick the both of you out of here!”
Your mouth hung open in shock as Mrs. Johnson pointed at you and then at Joe, giving the both of you a warning look before walking away. Your nose flared in anger as you gave Joe a cold side eye. He also looked stunned from what Mrs. Johnson just said. You were mentally punching Joe in your head at the moment. You wouldn’t be in this situation if he would just shut up for once and stop pressing your buttons. 
Exhaling a sharp frustrated breath, you turned and walked back to your apartment.
“Hey.” Joe called out. 
Pausing in your tracks, you turned to him. “What?!”
Joe walked closer to you, his chocolate button eyes staring deeply into yours. For some reason, there was something in his eyes that you couldn’t describe what it was. It was almost too genuine, but you doubt it. He was an actor. He could pretend anytime he wanted to. 
“I’ll keep the noise down.” He stated sternly. “If you start talking nice to me.”
His face was inches close to yours as you smiled and glanced down at his bare chest. Your index finger grazing over his soft skin, making Joe hitch his breath. He could feel his skin burning under your touch, and he tried to hold himself together as he felt his face flushed. Then, suddenly, the smile on your face fell.
“I’ll rather live on the streets than be nice to you!” You stated. 
Then, your fingers found the hem of his towel before you yanked it down and immediately turned your back to him, smiling deviously. You didn’t even bother looking back as you walked towards your apartment.
“Hey!” Joe exclaimed, immediately picking up his towel and covering his front. 
Before you could close your front door, you cheekily grinned as you watched him walk back to his apartment, his bum literally hanging out in front of you. You couldn’t help but stare at it before closing the door. 
“I told you that this was going to happen!” Sara scolded you the next morning when you had told her Mrs. Johnson’s warning from last night. 
You bit your lower lip, feeling your blood rushed to your cheeks. Sara was furious, and you couldn’t blame her because you knew how many times she had warned you about this and the day had finally come. 
“I’ll try to stop.” You murmured, hanging your head low.
“You better because I want to keep living here.” Sara barked. “That little game you and Joe are playing is not just about you two. It’s affecting my living situation too, and I’m sure everyone on this floor is sick of it too.”
“I know, I’m sorry.”  
Sara sighed and shook her head as comfortable silence blanketed the living room. You knew that this time, you had fucked up. This time, it was partly your fault for bringing Sara into this mess. 
“I’m sorry.” You said again, interrupting the silence. “I’ll try to be… civil.”
“It’s okay.” Sara murmured. “Before you told me about this, I actually have something to tell you. Maybe it will help you to avoid Joe.”
“What is it?” 
“My co-worker Garrett saw the picture of us on my Instagram, and he was wondering if he could take you out on a date.”
You raised your brow at her, reluctant about the idea. 
“I hope he’s not an asshole.”
“He’s not. He’s really nice.” Sara smiled excitedly. “He’s blond, has green eyes and he works in Finance.”
You chuckled softly at the description that Sara gave you. You knew that she knew how picky you were with men. It had to be someone that was your type when it came to looks besides the fact that you were also picky with their personality. It was no wonder as to why you were still single until now. 
“Well, if he’s so nice and beautiful, why don’t you date him?” 
Sara shrugged and said, “Because I don’t like him like that. We’re just friends.”
You let out a soft hum as you thought over the suggestion that Sara gave you. You didn’t really want to go and date someone that you didn’t know. Someone you haven’t met at all, and you truly didn’t like being set up on a blind date. However, maybe Sara was right. This might help you avoid Joe. You could see him less if you had your attention to someone else. 
“Fine.” You agreed. “But if this doesn’t work out, it’ll be all your fault.”
Sara laughed softly. “Alright, alright.” 
********
Taglist:
@palomahasenteredthechat @sunvick @eddies-acousticguitar @demonsanddemogorgons @joesquinns @mmunson86 @ghostinthebackofyourhead @corrodedcoffincumslut @figmentofquinn @tlclick73 @munsonluvrr @ali-r3n @ficsbypix @capricornrisingsstuff @missonlypost @ali-in-w0nderland @amberolivia666 @lalalala-melmosworld @niallersfreckles @nanas-lasagna @emma77645 @indulgence-be-thy-name @readergf @ladamari68 @1paire2vans @d4rk4ng3l86 @paleidiot @josephquinnsfreckles @readergf @mvnsonlover
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Hotel Field Trip Drabble
Thoughts based on this post [Link] about Charlie and Alastor taking a field trip to a human hotel for "business experience" lol
// Adorable. I just wanted to write some scene ideas. And it went Charlastor shippy immediately...though I didn't add pets. Human Alastor based on this post [Link] //
Charlie looks almost like herself with slightly less pale like death vibe, but she looks like herself.
No one is prepared for how Alastor looks as a human. Like, stunned silence silence in the hotel lobby when he joins Charlie. He is a gorgeous biracial man with oval glasses, perfectly swooshed dark hair, and a smile that is charming when it doesn't stretch demonically across his face. Tall and lean and impeccably dressed.
Alastor is not prepared for how people see him as a human.
He was a half-creole man in the Jim Crow era south. The same people who loved his radio show were probably vile to him in person. (h/c that this is why he hates being photographed and says this face is made for radio) But a hundred years later culture has shifted and he's suddenly not only acceptable but desirable.
When they get to the human hotel in New Orleans--guess what, there's only one bed. (Surprised Pikachu)
There's a roaring 20s convention in town, maybe also some true crime TikTokers too. Ultimate Alastor chagrin. People parading around like they're from his day--but the dresses, the fashion, everything is just all wrong. Don't get him started on Jazz covers of pop songs.
He asks Charlie to kill him again because he'd rather be in hell.
Guess what, only room they have is the honeymoon suite.
Elevator is so crowded Alastor does the wall lean over Charlie to keep them both from being crushed. No, sir, you cannot murder a whole elevator for being in your personal space but you can be in hers.
Debating if there's a "ghost tour" where some of Alastor's victims are said to be haunting the place. Ends with him destroying a tiktoker's phone.
Yes serial killer Alastor had his own "moral code" but he makes it emphatically clear to Charlie that he was still a monster that enjoyed killing. And hell is the perfect place for him, because everyone there failed to be moral—other than the hellborn, like Charlie.
One night Alastor tries avoiding Charlie by going to the bar, maybe while she's enjoying dancing nearby. He's had a few drinks when an older woman starts aggressively hitting on him.
literally cannot compute. Cannot shake her because he's a mamma's boy with manners and the lady won't take no for an answer. Charlie said not to kill anyone.
Alastor using Charlie as a human shield—against flirtations.
Alastor and Charlie getting to dance to music from his time. He has a moment to think...Charlie is exactly the girl his mother would have liked him to bring home. And the girl he would never deserve.
Annnnd some how I turn that angst into a happy ending because
I write romances not tragedies, dammit!!
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cosmicjoke · 1 day
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As an eruri shipper I wanted to thank you for your callout post. For nearly a year now I have gotten so much hate on my fics that I thought about deleting them, I haven't tho, thankfully. I found out about the spiteful troll and so I did my best to ignore it. However, the hateful comments my work was getting was beyond me because I hardly ever care what people ship or do and was simply minding my business writing what I like only to be told that I'm a jealous loser and I should stop writing Levi together with the "ugly bitch" (referring to Erwin) and that I should touch grass or slit my throat ... which?? And they made it sound like shipping Levi with a man was illegal or that the ship was inappropriate in some way.
I don't know who is really behind those hateful comments but if it's really her I hope karma hits her way very hard. Don't tell people to kill themselves over fiction EVER. That's common decency.
And about some eruris seeing you as an anti shipper. I'll admit I thought you were one as well. It didn't bother me as everyone is free to do whatever they want, but it's a pleasant surprise to know you actually like the ship and write fics for it. If anything, I admire how you can put your shipping goggles aside to write your analyses. It's very impressive.
Don't know if this is relevant but self shippers scare me a bit. Some of them have mean girls energy and I don't want to be attacked so that's why I'm staying on anon🙏🏻
First of all, let me truly thank you from the bottom of my heart for reaching out. It means the world to me, and I admire you for sharing your experience too. I'm super glad to hear that you didn't let the person leaving hateful comments on your stories drive you to delete them. I understand completely where you're coming from, as I've deleted stories of mine in the past due to an overabundance of negative comments. But I've never had anyone actually leave me death threats, or wish for harm to befall me on any of my stories, and to do that is truly the lowest of the low. Not just because it's over something as harmless as a piece of fictional writing, but just in general, it's never okay to wish harm on someone who's never harmed anyone else, or over something as ridiculous as a disagreement.
And yes, given what I've seen from this person on twitter, claiming Erwin is some "old man", they seem to think shipping him and Levi is tantamount to pedophilia, which is so absurd it doesn't even warrant a response. Erwin is at most maybe 5 years older than Levi? If even? They're both in their 30s. Shipping them is totally normal and healthy, lol.
I just think this person has some sort of raging, disgusting prejudice against gay relationships, and they view all gay relationships as perverse in some way. It's truly their problem, not anyone else's. I don't know either if it's the same person I got into an argument with here on tumblr, but so much of the language is the same, and the things they say are so similar to what was being said on twitter and a03, that I'm more than inclined to believe it is the same person. I can only hope my post helps inform more people about them and what a toxic, horrible person they are. Hopefully it will lead to them being blocked so that it isn't so easy for them to harass others. Though I already know they have multiple accounts here on tumblr, since they saw my post and started ranting about it on their blog, even though I had them blocked.
It also means the world to me to know that I've been able to clear up with you my stance on eruri and shipping in general. That was big of you to not be bothered by me when you did think I was an anti, but I'm glad I was able to show you that I'm not. I'm really, really not, lol. I love eruri. It's my favorite ship, and all my favorite AoT fanfics are eruri fics, lol. You can find comments I've left on too many to count at this point. I just try to keep it out of discussions which focus on "Attack on Titan" itself and Levi's role within the story, because I just don't see his relationship with Erwin in canon as romantic. I just think you have to keep the ship separate from canon because if you're going into an analysis of the narrative and Levi's or Erwin's role in it with some preconceived idea that their relationship is romantic in nature, then that's going to color one's ability to objectively analyze the motivations and the reasoning behind both Levi's and Erwin's actions. But I was never, ever against the ship, or against the idea of them being shipped. I think I got the reputation of being an anti because for a long time, I was being inundated with anon asks basically accusing me of being homophobic for saying eruri isn't canon, or anon asks trying to "prove" to me that it is canon and then getting angry at me when I disagreed, or when I lost my patience with them for simply not accepting my stance on this issue. And I think this small group of people then went around to other eruri's and spread to them that I was some sort of aggressive eruri hater. But again, I never was and never will be. I talk more about Levi's relationship with Erwin than any other character, and I find their canon relationship to be incredibly moving and powerful, and further, I love Erwin as a character. One thing I hope all of this will also do is make it clear to other eruri shippers that I'm not against them or their ship at all. I really don't want to be anyone's enemy, least of all eruri shippers. That was never something I set out to do, haha.
But yes, I'm right there with you regarding some self-shippers. Obviously, most of them aren't like this person. Most of them are normal and understand what they write and do is just for fun. But after "Bad Boy" came out, it seemed like the most push back against analysis of that story and its implications came from the self-shipping community, particularly people that seem to actually labor under some sort of delusion of actually, truly being with Levi in a romantic, sexual relationship. I don't understand that at all, because Levi isn't real, lol.
But they seem to get so upset at any discussion of Levi's trauma, or of Levi being affected by his trauma, because acknowledging that trauma and the impact its had on him ruins whatever fantasy, dom-daddy version of Levi it is that they've concocted in their heads. They like to claim Levi is some hard-ass, stoic, unaffected, domineering sex god, because that's what turns them on, and any discussion about what the actual reality of Levi's sexuality would likely be, due to the sexual trauma he's been exposed to, needs to be shut down, because it ruins the fantasy they have. They can't claim that the way they characterize Levi is objective or accurate to canon if Levi's sensitivity or vulnerability as a person is acknowledged, so they like to claim he's not affected at all by his past trauma, that he's just too hardcore to ever succumb to or be profoundly impacted by the things he's lived through. They like to imagine he's just come out the other side totally a-okay and that his stoicism and rudeness is 100% just a product of him being kind of a mean person, again, because they like the idea of being treated meanly by him in a sexual setting.
But Levi isn't a mean person, at all. He's literally the opposite of mean. He's the most thoughtful and considerate character in the series, constantly going out of his way to express his gratitude and ease the suffering of others. He's just awkward, like Dimo Reeves says, and isn't good at filtering his words or expressing himself. That some of these people refuse to acknowledge that the way Levi grew up, the environment he grew up in and the way he was raised, didn't have an impact on his ability to navigate social situations is patently absurd and stupidly unrealistic. It also undermines the severity of abuse Levi suffered in his upbringing, to deny that it had any sort of negative or harmful impact on his ability to interact socially with others. He was raised by a serial killer, for Christ's sake, lol. He wasn't ever taught how to talk to people in a way that would make them more comfortable. He was only ever taught violence and how to kill by Kenny, and he was too young when his mother died to learn anything from her, and he was also abandoned and left on his own at the age of ten, in the most cutthroat, dangerous environment there is inside the walls, surrounded by criminals, rapist, murderers and human traffickers, as well as just desperate people who would resort to plenty of bad shit just to survive. He probably didn't have a single, normal social interaction in his life until he met Furlan and Isabel. I would like these people to explain to me, then, how it is they think that didn't have an impact on the way Levi interacts with others?
He's an exceptionally honest person, too, and he also isn't someone who's concerned with being well-liked, so he doesn't try to ingratiate himself to others by acting friendly. But Levi never sets out to hurt anyone's feelings. He isn't malicious or cruel. He just says what he's thinking and sometimes it comes out sounding unkind. And we see, when Levi realizes it, that he tries to explain himself, again, not because he wants to be liked, but because he doesn't actually ever intend to hurt anyone's feelings. This idea that Levi is a mean person is totally wrong.
Anyway, I went off on a bit of tangent there, lol. Sorry about that. But again I just want to reiterate how much I appreciate you reaching out like this! And don't let these freak shows get you down.
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picture of your favorite moe anime sidegirl kouhais from your favorite gacha games
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heikeee · 4 months
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no but i need to scream into the void or i'll go mad. listen. kikyo wasn't a bitch. i don't think the way she was written did her any justice; it just makes her easy to hate. and don't get me wrong, this isn't about her relationship with inuyasha or kagome at all, i just want to talk about her as a character because she is one of the most complex of them and she needs to be looked at with more empathy.
i've said it before and i'll say it again: her whole thing is that she is tragedy personified. think about it. everything, and i mean every single thing that could have gone wrong in her life, HAS gone wrong. she had a difficult upbringing, having to raise her little sister and having to shoulder the burden of being the sole purifier of the shikon jewel (which constantly put her and her village under threat). she was never dealt an easy hand to begin with. then, she finds solace in love, tries her best to think of a way of unraveling herself from her duties to live a free life, while still caring for others selflessly: she took in onigumo, and he betrayed her. by pretending to be inuyasha, he had her think that her lover had betrayed her as well, and succumbed to wounds inflicted by him (or so she thought), while sealing him to the goshinboku.
the last wish she spoke of was to take the shikon jewel to the beyond with herself. later, kagome finds a way to actually destroy the jewel, which was what kikyo had intended to do but couldn't. in her heart, her last wish was to see inuyasha again. the jewel corrupts this wish and grants it in the most fucked up way possible.
her remains are robbed from her grave and she is brought back to life with NO agency on the matter, by someone who wanted only to exploit her powers. now, untethered from from her past duties, she is finally free to experience emotion. and that includes bad emotions. so anger, resentment, jealousy, contempt, loneliness, selfishness (and that's part of being human). every unfulfilled wish, the unfairness of it all. she spends the rest of the series navigating this undead existence, the duality of not belonging anywhere, constantly torn between doing what is right and what needs to be done to reach her goal, having no choice but to consume souls of recently departed girls to have the energy to fight her only fight (destroying naraku), all the while helping villagers and kids, and even the inugang, despite not wanting to align with their agenda at first. she contemplates sacrificing kohaku, yes, but ultimately her redemption is that she chose to save him instead of purifying the jewel in the end. she showed that she trusted the inugang to finish what she couldn't, and chose to spare another life, if possible (she says so herself in ch441)
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it is very difficult to relate to someone that doesn't give access to her vulnerable side very often. her and sango are the two characters who had it the hardest and were forced to make the most difficult decisions out of everyone. but we love sango, even when she chose to sacrifice rin, even when she contemplated killing kohaku then herself, because we know where sango's heart lies and how torn she is about all of it. kikyo, on the other hand, is stoic and hardened by her life (and also post-life), but ultimately her biggest trait was kindness. we don't get to see her cry and be like woe is me about it, something that could've made us more empathetic towards her like we are with sango.
my point is kikyo deserves to be looked at through kinder eyes. she is a complex character, and she requires a bit more analysis and compassion to actually see who she really is. my tragic girl
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rafeandonlyrafe · 27 days
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girls night
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words: 1.4k
warnings: 18+ only, smut, teasing, p in v sex, semi public sex, a bit of exhibitionism, unprotected sex, clingy!rafe, established relationship
“so the girls are coming over-”
“mhm…”
“so if you want to watch a movie upstairs, or maybe see if top can hang out?” you suggest, rocking back and forth on your heels.
“hm, no.” rafe shakes his head, keeping his ass planted in the middle of the couch.
“no? it's just that we're gonna watch like a romcom and drink wine and gossip-”
“i can do all that too.” rafe shrugs.
“but do you really want to?” you question.
“no, but i don't want to be away from you. so you'll just have to put up with me.” rafe reaches his hand out, pulling you onto his lap.
“how long until they get here?” he questions, one hand wrapping around your waist, tugging you into his chest while his other hand ventures to your ass, gripping it over your pajama shorts.
it takes you a moment to remember what rafe asked you. “hayley will probably be here in like ten minutes.” 
“enough time to make out.” rafe smirks at you before connecting your lips. the minutes pass by as he holds you tight against him, mouth dominating yours until you're suddenly interrupted by the doorbell sounding out.
“shit.” you whine, legs a bit shaky and weak as you stand, rushing to let hayley in who also brought your two other friends steph and tina.
“hi girlies!” you hug each of them before moving deeper into the house. “i hope you don't mind rafey joining us.”
“no problem.” hayley shrugs. she knows the most how clingy rafe can be, and how much you love it.
“pick a movie.” you toss the remote at tina. “ill get the wine!”
you bring back glasses and two bottles under your arms, one red and one white. you pour yourself some before looking to rafe.
“ill share with you.” he smiles, not a huge fan of wine himself, so if he's going to drink it, it's going to be from the same glass as you.
“okay, i know we've all seen it before but ive really been wanting to rewatch 10 things i hate about you.” tina says as she hits play on the movie.
“oh, yes!” you squeal, sitting down next to rafe. tina is on the farthest cushion of the spot away from you while hayley and steph have taken up the armchairs.
you lean into rafe, only occasionally reaching forward to sip your wine. 
you're watching the movie when rafe ducks his head, pressing light kisses to the shell of your ear before moving lower, kissing along your jawline and neck.
“rafe…” you whisper, hand moving to grip his thigh as he pays extra attention to the spot he knows you're sensitive at.
“want you so bad.” rafe whispers, not stopping the kisses despite your hand tightening it's grip on his leg.
“and i want to enjoy girls night.” you turn to rafe so your friends don't pick up on wait your saying. “after. you know i want you to, but not when we have guests over.”
“fine, ill stop.” rafe huffs, leaning back against the couch, pulling you further into him to make up for not kissing you.
rafes focus shifts to the movie to distract him, his hand randomly petting over different parts of your body until another idea sparks in his head.
his hand drifts further up, thumb swiping over the bottom of your breast, keeping his movements slow and casual like they're not calculated as he moves up until he's cupping your chest, thumb swiping directly over your nipple.
your eyes closed the second rafe touched your breast, concentrating on not moaning out and turning the groups attention towards you.
hayley lets out a laugh at a scene and it has you jolting back to reality. you grab rafes hand and lower it back to your waist.
“come on.” rafe growls in your ear.
you ignore him as something in the movie reminds steph of an ex boyfriend as she launches into a rant about him, the same one you've all heard a million times, yet you're still happy to hear again, to make the same comments about how much of a dick he is.
rafe leans forward, slipping his arm from around you as he grabs a blanket from the basket you pulled to the center of the room for the girls.
“anyone else cold?”
tina raises her hand so rafe tosses a fluffy blanket in her direction before draping a bigger one over both of your laps, covering you up to the waist.
“i know what you're doing.” you whisper, turning to rafe and pressing a kiss to the underside of his jaw.
“and do you want me to stop?” rafe asks. he already knows the answer to the question. as much as you feign not wanting to do anything until your friends leave, you find rafe just as irresistible.
it's why you don't really fight it when rafes hand disappears underneath the blanket. you even spread your legs for him, allowing his hand to cup your pussy over the cover of your shorts and underwear.
“you want to kill me.” you whisper-hiss into rafes ear, subtly covering your mouth in case you let any sounds slip.
“just can't resist that pussy, baby.” rafe presses kisses into your hair as you attempt to focus on the movie, rafes hand staying mysteriously still.
you become impatient, waiting for the inevitable, so you reach over, placing your hand on rafes thigh, slowly moving it upwards, teasing him by swiping your hand back down whenever you get close to his crotch.
rafe moves suddenly, standing up and letting the blanket fall away as he scoops you into his arms. “be right back, ladies.”
he rushes out of the room, not leaving you any other option as he presses you against his body.
“oh my god, rafe!” you squeal as he pushes you into the nearest private room, which happens to be your guest bathroom.
“i need you right now, fuck.” rafe tugs your pajamas down, revealing that you're only wearing a small thong.
“you could wait another like half hour? the movie was almost done!” you allow rafe to press your front into the wall, bending forward to stick your ass out.
“nope.” rafe opens up his shorts to pull his cock out, already hard from your teasing.
“ridiculous.” you roll your eyes, but its accompanied with a giggle. you love how rafe can never get enough of you, how his love and borderline obsession is clear to everyone.
“says the one dripping for my cock.” rafe chuckles, swiping the head of his cock through your folds before pressing against your entrance, pushing in with one quick motion.
“oh fuck!” you squeal before covering your mouth, remembering your friends aren't too far away, although they definitely know what's going on, you don't need them to hear it as well.
“god, you feel so good and warm.” rafe moans, immediately beginning to thrust, not wanting to take you away from your girls night for too long.
his hand wraps around your front, reaching down to rub at your clit while his other hand holds your hips steady, the slapping sound of your skin meeting together echoing around the bathroom walls.
“you're mine.” rafe huffs out, as if you need reminding.
his thrusts become wilder as the minutes pass by of him pressing into your cunt until you lose yourself to the high that rushes over your body.
rafe has to grab your hips to keep you upright as your pussy clenches around him, only a few more thrusts before rafe is spilling into you with a moan of your name.
“shit, i already want you again.” rafe laughs, pressing you into the wall as his cock finishes pulsing inside of you, needing to make sure hes filled you up as much as possible before he pulls your underwear and shorts back up.
“rafe, im gonna leak all over the couch-” you complain before he interrupts you.
“oh well.” the devious smile on his face tells all.
you pout as he gets redressed, opening the door like nothing at all happened.
“come on.” rafe holds his hand out to you, proudly walking you back into the living room.
“well, i can’t blame you for keeping rafe around all the time.” tina giggles as you retake your place on the couch, your face bright red.
“its me who needs her around all the time.” rafe smiles, pressing a kiss to the side of your head while you pull the blanket up over your face in embarrassment.
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cherryredstars · 9 months
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Idk what wrong with me but I've been craving some highschool oneshot, or anything tbh
So I hope if u could do badbad!Miguel x goodgirl!nerd?
I have no idea what I meant by goodgirl!nerd,let just make her an good girl who always an big time nerd in the school,who loves helping people out,especially when it come to tutoringor tutor some students,so when miguel ask for her to tutor him,so he could catch up with his grades,she say yes to him,but he really didn't need the tutoring he just wanted to play around with reader (he would been craving for some of her attention,he would have an interest in her without anyone notice) he loved teasing,flirty, and most definitely love making her all stuttering and blushing mess,but what he hate how people who think that have their advantage over reader,eye fucking her with their eyes,it just makes his blood boil,his fist clenching in anger,but he deals with them later (beating tf out of them for thinking that they can touch what his) but not feeling satisfied he just had to show u who u belong to,and make you his,so on one can try to get u before him
Idk what wrong with me like I can write when I'm zoned out (also could u pls put nfsw pls)
Anyway have an great day
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Pairing: Badboy!Miguel O’Hara x Goodgirl!Reader
Warnings: Protectiveness, Suggested Physical Fighting, Smut, Slight Exhibition, Marking, Praise, Lots of Curses and Mentions to Disney
Summary: All good boys go to heaven, but bad boys bring heaven to you. (Get it..like the song)
A/N: THIS REQUEST IS SO!!!
Word Count: 4.5K (Barely Edited)
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It doesn’t take much to notice you. 
He sees you all the time, sitting in the front like the good little girl you are. Batting those innocent eyes up at every teacher as you shoot your hand up to answer every question with a bashful smile. Eyes you as you go up to different students, reminding them of tutoring sessions or offering help. His good little girl just wanted to make sure everyone graduates with passing grades. Just want to be so helpful for everyone, to feel needed. He could make you feel needed. Only if you’d let him, only if you needed him as much as he needed you. 
When he calls your name, your head shoots up instantly to turn to him. Your cheeks heat up when your eyes meet his, a smirk spreading on his face. He calls you over, finger forming a ‘come here’ motion. You instantly obey, getting out of your seat and standing over his desk. You flutter your lashes shyly at him, fingers fidgeting together as you try to kill the redness on your face. Miguel hums lazily, hand reaching out to play with a strand of your hair resting on your shoulder. Your hair is soft and silky against his fingers, his eyes watching as it twirls around his fingers.
“Tutor me.” He says simply, eyes blazing a lazy trial up to your face. His expression is one of boredom, except his eyes are glistening with mischief. 
The eye contact makes you flush deeper, face practically a tomato as you refocus your gaze to his ear to avoid his gaze. A stuttered response leaves you, uncertainty masking your voice as you ask him what he needs help with. The question momentarily pauses his movements. Truthfully, he doesn’t need help with anything. He has a high class rank, closely following behind your up and coming valedictorian title. In the end, he replies with science, a class he has a perfect grade in. You instantly agree, shyly giving him a time and day to go to the library for his sessions. 
He always shows up a few minutes early, you find him on his phone as his feet are propped up on a secluded table with his chair leaning on its back legs. A lazy smile crosses his face as he watches you walk over, not caring for the science workbooks you set down at the table. You try your hardest not to meet his gaze, finding it hard when he sets his feet down and leans closer towards you as you explain the material in quiet, stuttered sentences. He simply hums along to your explanations, not really listening as he brushes his shoulder against yours, accidentally grazing your hand when he points to a random paragraph, pressing the side of his knee against yours under the table. 
Each touch makes you stop talking, body tensing as a flush covers every inch of your skin. His touch burns against your skin, causing your voice to waver and fingers to tremble. He drinks in every reaction, interrupting your explanations with questions whispered too close to your ear in a flirty tone. They’re questions he already knows the answers to, but he just wants to keep hearing you talk and stutter. He’ll make you late to your next tutor session with a pout, teasing that he still doesn’t understand what you’re trying to teach him. It always causes your eyes to soften towards him and make you promise that you’ll move your schedule around to make room for a sooner tutoring session. It always causes Miguel to puff up with pride at his clever antics and for his heart to beat faster at the thought of spending more one-on-one time with you. 
When he’s not with you in his lovely tutor sessions, he keeps his eye on you. He watches you in the cafeteria as you offer someone your lunch because they didn’t bring any money and don’t have anything to eat. He smiles slightly to himself whenever you get stopped by an underclassman and you fuss over making sure they get to the right class and don’t end up lost in the halls. He gets slightly annoyed and furrows his brows when you hold the door open for a long string of people and only a few of them acknowledge your kindness with a thank you. You’re just so nice and he wishes he can have that sweetness of yours all to himself. Especially when he sees some random ass fuck trying their go at you. Because, of course you’re not just nice and smart, you’re a total fucking knockout. 
You have the sweetest little face paired with a body any man would get on his knees to worship, (a thought Miguel thinks about very often in the comfort of a bathroom or his bedroom), the shiniest fucking eyes that always blink up at everyone like they’re the most interesting damn thing you’ve ever met, and a voice that drips of honey and hidden sex appeal. And if it isn’t your looks that instantly draw them in, it’s that perfect personality of yours. Always kind and patient and funny. You’re always walking with someone in the halls, making everyone you’re with laugh and crave to be the subject of your attention. You’re a goddamn magnet, and everyone wants to be connected to you. You’re the type of woman that would convince any man to settle down, to drop to a single knee and ask you to be his for life. Because everyone knows that you’re a once in a lifetime girl and no one will ever come close to you. Every boy (and some girls) in this damn school wants a chance with you. 
And that pisses Miguel the fuck off. Because while you’re wife material, most boys here don’t even meet the requirements to be considered boyfriend material. Sleezy fucks who want a trophy wife that will suck them off after they come home from some meaningless job that they sit around all day doing nothing at. Immature cunts who think they’re funny when they poke fun at insecurities and claim it's a joke. Disgusting toddlers in overgrown bodies who don’t deserve to be in the same universe as you are. But, of course you’re still nice to them, and of course they think it means they have a chance with you. 
Miguel is always clenching his jaw and preparing his fists whenever he walks into the library to meet you after one of your earlier sessions to see some disney channel-looking fucker trying to sweet talk you. Key word being ‘trying’, because he can tell from a mile away that you’re still trying to be patient even though your body language screams ‘I am so close to slapping this boy with my textbooks’. The thought makes Miguel snort out a laugh that instantly dies as he watches some Zac Efron wannabe lean closer towards you. The asshole’s eyes instantly drop to your chest, where your textbooks are causing your boobs to be pushed together, revealing the most mouthwatering sight. Miguel’s eye is practically twitching when the dude’s slimy fingers come to run down your arm with the ugliest smirk Miguel has had the displeasure of seeing. 
Miguel doesn’t hesitate to walk over, walking slowly as he stops at the end of the table with a bored and displeased expression on his face. The boy, who’ll probably end up as a drug addict in his 20s, looks very annoyed at his presence. Even muttering something about Miguel being a ‘cock-blocker’ under his breath. The retort makes Miguel lift his brow in surprise. He didn’t know Mickey Mouse Junior even had a dick. Must be one of his magic mousekatools, he concludes. 
Miguel ignores him, instantly turning to you. The grateful look on your face as you stare at him makes Miguel puff out his chest, proud of himself for making you feel better. His body loses the tiniest bit of tension as you smile softly at him. “He bothering you, princesa?”
You instantly widen your eyes, moving to shake your head when Donald Duck speaks up, “I think you’re the one bothering her, actually.”
He must have been a mosquito in his past life, Miguel thinks to himself, it would explain why he’s so fucking annoying. Miguel turns over to Shrek’s brother and stares him down. The boy instantly looks like he might piss his pants, but keeps his position as much as his wobbling legs can, “I think you should leave Miguel. I’m sure she’ll be…preoccupied for the next hour or two.”
His comment makes you cringe from the applied meaning and Miguel sees absolute red. He has to laugh at what this fucker thinks would have happend if Miguel didn’t show up. Yeah right, like this motherfucker could last that long. Miguel grabs the front of his collar with a tight grip, almost pulling the poor boy over the table. A vein is visibly running down Migue’s neck as his jaw clenches. 
“Puta madre. Cuando termine contigo, no podrás tocar nada nunca más.” Miguel grinds out, shaking the worthless piece of shit slightly before turning towards you in a nicer, softer tone, but still laced with a bit of tension: “Go find us a nice table, hermosa. I have to take care of something real quick.” 
You can only nod, watching as Miguel leaves with the boy out the back entrance of the library. You wince slightly as the door closes rather loudly, feeling a bit of sympathy for the boy who most likely won’t schedule another tutoring session once Miguel comes back. You spend the next 20 or so minutes preparing the secluded table Miguel likes best. Laying out all your books and supplies, sitting still and then getting antsy and shifting things to straighten them every few minutes. 
When Miguel finds you, he walks over with his hands in his pocket. He looks just like he did a few minutes ago, his hair just slightly disheveled. Your heart might have actually stopped when his hand leaves his pocket to grab yours that are drummin nervously on the wooden table. His hand is rough compared to your soft one as he bends down and brings it to his face. His lips are soft, if not slightly chapped, when he presses a fleeting kiss to your knuckles, mumbling an apology for taking so long as he stares into your eyes. Your eyes are wide as you stutter out reassurance that it’s fine. Miguel simply hums before dropping your hand and going to sit down. He pauses when your small hands grab his once again.
Your thumb strokes over the redness and slight purple color of his knuckles, something that definitely wasn’t there when he first came in, hinting at what happened outside of the library building. A slight crease appears between your brows and your lips are in a sad pout.Your eyes don’t leave his hand when you mutter, “You’re hurt.” 
Your concern makes Miguel slightly happy, liking the idea you care for him. He slips his hand into yours, bending back down as his hand goes under your chin to lift your face. Out of sight from peering eyes, he presses a kiss to the corner of your lips. “Don’t worry ‘bout it, mkay?”
Your stuttered and shy state makes him smile, muttering how cute you are as he finally sits down. You have to clap a hand over your mouth to conceal a squeak when Miguel grabs the seat of your chair and pulls it closer to him, practically connecting the edge of the chairs. He casually throws his arm over the back of your chair, not doing any dramatics like faking a yawn or stretching. You stare and blink at him, nervousness bubbling in your stomach as he leans in closer. “Are we going to start or what, mami?”
He keeps his smile to himself, watching as you clear your throat and scramble to open your science textbook to where you had left off the last time. He just sits and watches, fingers ghosting over your shoulder gently, feeling nothing like the other guy. He listens to what you’re saying faintly, pointing at some diagram in the book. He thinks you asked him a question because you stare at him patiently, yet expectantly. He turns to you, shrugging, “Can’t see the model clearly.”
You nod, moving to push the book closer to him before his hands are on your waist. He leans fully back into his chair as he lifts you off yours and into his lap. He pulls the book in front of the both of you, head resting on your shoulder as he hums. “That’s better. Now ask the question again.”
Your brain stops functioning for a second, Miguel’s hands leaving your waist to rest against your legs, fingers slightly caressing the side of your thigh. Your nervousness makes you squirm, and his hands instantly grab onto your thighs tightly with a hiss. He grinds out for you to ask the question again, but he doesn’t sound aggressive. His voice sounds more pained and desperate. You nod with a gulp, hesitantly reasking the question that he pretends to think about before answering correctly just to hear your praise. 
As you continue talking, Miguel’s fingers rub the skin just below the ending of your skirt. You try to ignore the touches, but your body melts against his front as your voice quiets and you shift your body slightly to press into him. Miguel’s breath tickles your neck and your thighs clench as a single finger slips under the material of your skirt. It just barely skims over your panties, and your breath hitches. Miguel smirks at your reactions, asking you what’s wrong as he slowly moves your leg so it hangs over his leg. You’re a stuttering mess, brain malfunctioning when his hand comes back and caresses the crotch of your panties. Your cheeks flush, knowing it’s damp in arousal. 
A quiet groan leaves Miguel as he moves your panties to the side, letting his fingers rub against your bare pussy. Sticky fluid instantly clings to his fingers and his head turns to press kisses against your neck, his free hand coming up to your chin to tilt your head to the side for more room. Your hand comes down to hold his arm, eyes closing as the tips of his fingers tease your entrance. When he hears your slight whimper, he looks up to your face and pulls his fingers away, moving them to trace circles in your inner thigh. 
The small sound you make in protest causes him to chuckle, “Shh, shh. Keep talking, baby. You’re supposed to help me, remember?”
You open your mouth to protest but his fingers are back, this time slowly sinking into your heat instead of just teasing with his fingertips. Your eyes instantly close again and you let out a shuddering breath. You open our eyes, trying to focus on the words in the book. When you begin to read and explain a scientific equation, Miguel’s fingers reach knuckle-deep into you. You can hear the muffled sound he makes as he continues to suck and kiss your neck. Your weak explanation is cut off when he pulls his fingers back and pumps them into you, curling his fingers. The beginning of a moan is let out before your hand clasps over your mouth. Miguel laughs evilly as he continues moving his fingers. 
You're sure this is a game to him. Everytime you stop explaining things, he stops and tells you to continue. But once you start talking, his pumps and curls his fingers faster, causing you to cut yourself off when sounds of pleasures. You’re a mess by the time you finish your explanation, hips grinding into Miguel’s hand and fingers clutching to the edge of the table for stability. 
Once you say your last words, Miguel speeds his fingers up and bites into your neck, “Good girl. Gonna give you a reward for being such a good girl for me, yeah?”
You don’t hesitate to nod, face screwed up in pleasure as you reach closer and closer to the edge. Miguel leaves your neck, licking the bite soothingly before tilting your face back towards him. He muffles the loud moan you make as you gush around his fingers with a deep kiss. He bites and sucks on your bottom lip, eyes closed and brows furrowed as he savors the taste of your lip gloss. His tongue swipes over the seam of your lips, causing you to part them as his tongue explores your mouth. 
His fingers move to lazy pumps, working you through your orgasm before stopping completely. Your body shakes slightly against his, and he smirks into the kiss before pulling away. His fingers reappear from under your skirt, covered in your white cum. You both watch as he part his two fingers, white strings connecting the two. You let out an embarrassed whimper, watching as Miguel brings them up to his mouth, licking them clean. Your taste instantly floods his mouth and he practically rolls his eyes back. Of course you’d taste so fucking sweet and delicious. His fingers leave his mouth with a small pop, hurriedly coming back to kiss you again. A shy moan leaves you at your own taste. 
Miguel’s hand moves your other leg, spreading you out fully so both of your legs are pressed into the sides of his thighs. His hand leaves your chin and scoots you further up his leg, working on undoing his jeans just enough to stick his aching cock out of his underwear. The head is red and leaking, precum sliding down his length. His hand comes to pump himself before he moves you back over him, his cock resting against your ruined panties. 
“Move your panties to the side for me, yeah?” He mumbles against your lips. You comply instantly, pushing your panties to one side, moaning when Miguel takes a hold of his cock to align it with you. He pushed slowly into you, his hand releasing his cock to hold onto your thigh and to cover your mouth as you continued moaning out. He throws his head back with a choked moan the moment he bottoms out, holding still to bask in the way your tight cunt swallows him and squeezes around him. 
“Feels so fucking tight. Feels like I’m in heaven.” Miguel hisses out, his hips thrusting into you experimentally. 
The cutest of mewls leave your mouth, causing Miguel to nose your cheek almost lovingly. He takes his time, lazily thrusting into your pulsating pussy in an attempt to hold himself back. But he’s wanted this for so long. He’s wanted to touch you, to kiss you, to just be near you since the moment he laid eyes on you. And he’s here, in the goddamn school library, and you’re letting him fuck you as you sit on his lap. It feels like a scene straight out of some fucked-up erotica or porn video. Would it be too much if he started thanking you until he’s a babbling mess?
A strangled noise leaves Miguel when you start fucking bouncing on his cock, impatient with his slow speed. Instinctively, his hips speed up. The sound of wet squelching filling the small, unoccupied section of the library. Anyone can walk over, some poor student or librarian in need of a book only to find his good girl riding his cock so desperately. The thought makes his balls tighten and he has to distract himself before he blows his load into you too soon. He buries his head into the curve of your shoulder, shifting the hand that covers your mouth to stuff two of his fingers past your lips. Without even asking, you start sucking on them as you lift your hips up and down. 
“Good girl. Good fucking girl, princesa.” Miguel praises into your ear, his hand leaving your thigh to pinch and play with your neglected clit. It causes you to squirm and for your steady riding to falter. “Oh fuck. Taking my cock so well, yeah? Taking it is so good for me. Holy fuck!” 
More curses leave his mouth as he pounds into you, shifting his hips until he hits that gummy spot inside of you that causes you to wrap your arm around his neck to hold on for dear life. Your pussy just keeps quivering around him, milking him for the cum you so desperately need to be filled with. The cum he wants to fill and claim you with. The thought of you walking out of the library, hell going to tutor another student, with his cum flooding your pussy and dripping through your panties is something he’s fantasized about for months. His pure, innocent girl tainted with how dirty she is by fucking him of all people, in a place where anyone can see how naughty she really is.  
“Miguel!” 
The sound of your muffled call makes his eyes snap open from their closed position, He looks up at your face, watching as a line of drool drips from your stuffed mouth. He has to groan and give you deep thrusts as a thank you for the pretty sight. As he thrusts, he realizes how much your walls have contracted, practically trying to trap his cock inside you. He notices how much your body is beginning to twitch and he knows you’re close. Your eyes look hazy and the muffled moans you let out add on to how close you must be to coating his cock. 
“Wanna cum on my cock, love? Gonna cum and make you all mine, yeah?” He whispers into your ear, slowing his fast thrusting in exchange for hard and deep thrusts that cause you to whine. You desperately nod your head, babbled and incoherent nonsense being said around his fingers. 
Miguel let out a low chuckle, speeding up again and relishing the happy noise that vibrates in the back of your throat. Your walls clench around him like a heartbeat for a few blissful moments before you're screaming around his fingers as your back arches and thighs shake. Miguel moans as he feels you cum around him, the lewdest noises coming from your wet cunt as he hammers into you for his own release. A sweat builds up on his face as he drives into you, trying to push in and out of your tight walls that only seem to tighten the more he thrusts. 
“That’s my good fucking girl. Came so beautifully around my cock.” He mumbles, looking down to where the two of you are connected to see the most gorgeous white ring at the base of his cock. He can feel himself twitching inside of you, on the brink of exploding. 
Miguel bites into your neck as one last act of claiming as he spills into you, his hips not stopping as he pumps you full of his seed. A delirious moan comes from you as you feel his warmth, but you seem happy as you melt into him. Your skin is sticky from sweat, arousal, and Miguel’s saliva when he pulls his face away from your neck. The bite mark is red against the purples beginning to stain your skin. He can feel himself getting hard again at the sight of it, but he refrains from taking more than what you’ve already given him. 
He lifts you up slightly, moaning as a mix of cum slowly falls from your hole, dripping onto the underside of his semi-hard cock. It drips down, merging with the cum that still sits at the base of his dick. He makes you stand between his legs, your upper body pressed against the table as you try to recompose yourself as Miguel lifts up the back of your skirt to study your glistening pussy and thighs. He pressed a small kiss on your pussy lips before readjusting your underwear to cover you again. A proud smile graces his lips as he watches the previous wet spot in them get darker from the cum still trying to leave you.
When he pulls the skirt back down, he finds you looking over your shoulder with a shy look. His beautiful good girl is back to her doe eyes and flustered cheeks. Miguel tucks himself back into his underwear, zipping himself back up. He takes the time to lazily look around, amazed that no one realized what was happening or witnessed it. He stands up off the chair, looking back towards you and wraps one of his arms around your middle to pull you up against his chest. 
The tiniest of squeaks leaves you as you meet his hard chest again, looking up at him with amazement. You can’t help but study his face, admiring the way his lashes flutter as he blinks and the way he looks good from even this angle. HIs eyes look down at you briefly, a lazy smile coming over his face as he shakes his head. He works on packing up your things for you, closing the unneeded textbook and stuffing it and your other supplies back into your bag. When he’s finished, he shifts his face down towards you, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. 
The sappy smile that appears on your face makes his heart beat fast and for his own cheeks to heat up. He gulps and clears his throat, looking away as his hand starts rubbing the skin it rests over. He slings your book bag over his shoulder, the pastel color of it a large contrast over his entirely black attire. He stares back down at you, pushing hair out of your face and tilting his head at you. 
“Do you have another tutoring session to go to now?” He whispers softly, smiling when you shake your head no wordlessly. He hums in pleasure, his arm sliding from around your center and down to your hand, dwarfing it in his. He gives it a tight squeeze and pulls you with him as he starts walking towards the exit. You follow him with no resistance, just hurrying your pace to keep up with his long strides. 
“Where are we going?” You ask as the afternoon sun instantly hits both of you when you walk out the door. He pulls you straight to his car, opening the passenger door for you and closing it before putting your bag in the backseat. You watch without question through the windshield as you buckle in and he rounds the car to go through the drivers’ side door. After he buckles in, he turns and starts reversing, not answering until he’s out of the parking spot and turning the wheel back to straighten it. 
“Imma take you home so you can change.” He says simply, turning to throw you a quick smile before grabbing your hand again and intertwining them as he clutches onto the gearshift. “And then, I’m going to take you out on a date.”
Part 2
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Literally the longest thing I’ve posted because I love this request so much! I now reached 100 pages in my writing doc. As always, SpanishDict was used.
5K notes · View notes
luveline · 2 months
Note
also didn’t realise that amanda was their little baby but here’s an idea if ur up for it. amanda inherits like spencer’s smartness i guess and so when she starts spewing facts about the random-est stuff spencer’s overjoyed and then bombshells just staring at them with adoration in her eyes?? idk something really fluffy
“Shoes?” Amanda asks. 
“Yeah, babe.” 
“No thanks.” 
You hold Amanda’s socked feet in your hands. “You need shoes to keep your feet warm.” 
“I’ll have socks.” 
You look past her tiny face to her father for some assistance. Spencer scratches his neck, looking absolutely exhausted, though he’s dressed sharply. You’d spent a few minutes finger curling his hair this morning before it dried, and he’s brushed them out gently, giving him a windblown look. You pretend to take a photo of him. He rolls his eyes. 
“Amy,” he says lovingly, baby-voice in play as he leans over the back of the couch, “you know why you have to wear shoes?” 
“Why?” 
“Because growing up, your feet are very small, and very fragile. They need time to grow in proper structures, and they can’t do that if you don’t wear shoes when you’re walking a lot.” He gives her shoulder a rub. “Don’t you wanna match me and mommy?” 
“You wear shoes… different. Mom has heels,” she insists. 
“What if I wear flats?” you ask, eager to leave the house before afternoon. 
She shakes her head, crossing her arms over her chest with a Spencer style pout. 
Spencer sits down next to her with a sigh. You’re both aware of how smart she is for her age, and while it can be interesting, it’s also made some stuff so, so hard. Like explaining shoes. “I’m not want to wear them. It’s good for my skin to breathe.” All her r’s sound soft, like w’s.
You rub your eyes. Spencer sucks in an excited breath. “Yes! Skin can’t really breathe, but it’s good to have it uncovered sometimes to help your circulation and your pores.” 
“‘Xactly,” Amy says. 
“And, you know, shoes that don’t fit right force your feet into narrow positions, which can cause a whole bunch of problems.” 
“No shoes,” Amy says. 
“But…” Spencer backtracks, thumbing under her eyelashes gently. “If you don’t wear your shoes, we can’t go out to the store for groceries and we can’t go to the bakery on the way home. Which means you won’t get your sugar donuts, mommy won’t get her slice of cake, and that’s gonna make me so sad.” 
“Why?” 
“Because I love when your mom is happy. It makes me happy when she’s happy. She doesn’t look very happy now, does she?” 
In all honesty, you’re much too pretty to be sitting on the floor, tights to the carpeting and your cute black dress bunching up your thighs. You refuse to close yourself into the ‘mom’ box some may expect of you, dressing as you had before you became a mom, but you’ve allowed Amanda the opportunity to choose your necklace; a gold pendant ring with green and pink sapphires. It’s gorgeous, colourful, and doesn’t even slightly go with your outfit. Spencer reaches for it now, tugging it straight carefully against your neck. 
You frown deeply, pulling your widest, softest doe eyes. “Please, lovely girl, put your shoes on. Or I’m gonna have to be strict, and I hate being strict.” 
“Don’t fw-own, mommy,” she says, listing into Spencer’s side, “you’ll get wrinkles. Worse wrinkles, ‘cos your muscles remember.” 
And again, all her r’s are w’s, her pronunciation lispy and sweet despite her amazing expertise. Spencer laughs and takes her face into two hands, kissing “Wow, smarty pants,” into her crown. “You’re so smart! I can’t believe it!” 
You feel your annoyance softening. Fine, she’s a smarty pants, and you secretly love it so so much. You’ll just have to carry her to the car. Or her genius dad can carry her. Actually, that could be great, Spencer’s never looked so handsome as he does carrying around your little baby, especially now he’s started working out every now and then. 
“Better role your sleeves up, Spence,” you say, standing up off of your knees. “I’m keeping my heels on. Daddy’s gonna carry you, and you’re gonna get wonky feet.” 
“That’s fine,” Spencer says to her in a whisper, “I’ll carry you forever if you want me to, even if you do get all wonky, bubby.”  
Amy preens as she wraps her arms around him and he picks her up. He takes her shoes from your hand without her seeing. 
“Isn’t she amazing?” he mouths, and he means it, his eyes wide with it. 
“She’s gonna protest socks, next, Spencer Reid, and then what are you gonna do?” you ask. You aren’t half as concerned as you’re pretending to be. Amy’s a baby. She’ll learn how important shoes are soon enough. 
“I’m gonna hold her in my coat, like this,” he says, pulling his coat over her legs. 
“Like that,” you say to yourself, grinning. “Okay, you two do what you want. Can we go now? We really need to get some groceries.” 
1K notes · View notes
lewisvinga · 2 months
Text
me n my dumbasses | charles leclerc x fem! driver! reader x pierre gasly
summary; just f1’s fave ‘childhood besties to lovers’ throuple being iconic
fc; various girls on pinterest
warnings; cursing i think
taglist; @namgification @louvrepool @locelscs @thehufflepuffavenger1 @minseok-smaus @goldenmclaren @ollieshifts @lavisenri @graciewrote @xoscar03
note; requested !
masterlist !
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liked by charles_leclerc, pierregasly, and others !
yourusername: average day w the most stupid people in all of france ( and monaco ) (( i unfortunately have dealt with them my whole life and i also unfortunately love them ))
tagged; pierregasly, charles_leclerc
charles_leclerc: but pierre was first in ur last photo dump ☹️
pierregasly: mate you almost killed us …😀
charles_leclerc: NOT MY FAULT YOU’RE BOTH GOOD LOOKING?? also did you just mate zone me?
yourusername: think abt ur actions of almost killing ur bf and gf , charles leclerc.
charles_leclerc: yes ma’am🫡
username: CHAPIEY/N DUMPPP
username: leave it up to y/n to post the most bf pics of them 😫
username: i’d kill to have dealt w them my whole life miss y/n UR LUCKYY😖
username: charles is so real for almost crashing his ferrari bc y/n and pierre looked toooo good 😭
yourusername: yeah well now he’s in the timeout corner ://
charles_leclerc: this is NOT fun
pierregasly: #deserved
⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆
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⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆
yourusername uploaded to their story !
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[caption 1; #inspectingpierresform🤓] [caption 2; complaining that i’m taking pics instead of working out 🙄🙄 #tattletale] [caption 3; wauw hot boys]
landonorris gross
landonorris dumbasses
yourusername hey 😾
yourusername they’re MY dumbasses 😪
pierregasly “pleaseee can i work out with you guys 🥺🥺”
yourusername i didn’t want to break a nail🙁🙁
pierregasly you’re so high maintenance
yourusername u have known me since 2011 WHY are u shocked
yourusername u both made me like this btw
pierregasly and we don’t regret it a bit, cherie 😁
charles_leclerc i see u liked our selfie from when u went to the bathroom to put makeup on before filming tiktoks😁
yourusername wanted to look cute for the camera and for my dumbasses can u blame a girl😖
charles_leclerc DUMBASSES?? i’m smart , pierre maybe but not me !
yourusername oh babe
yourusername u both are ! but it’s ok i love u both💓
charles_leclerc yeah yeah we love u too
username LMAOOOO THEYRE SO😭
username pierre’s ‘mom i threw up’ stance 💀
username never stop these queen
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liked by pierregasly, charles_leclerc, and others !
yourusername: just me n my dumbasses against the world ❤️‍🩹
tagged; charles_leclerc, pierregasly
charles_leclerc: love u too dumbass xx
yourusername: u see i get why I called u a dumbass but why are u calling me a dumbass? do u hate me??☹️☹️
charles_leclerc: cherie no wait pls
pierregasly: im surprised you still fall for her lame sarcasm even if we’ve been dealing w her since 2011🙄
yourusername: hey RUDE ur the ones who wanted ME first 😾😾
yourusername: sorry for worrying u pooks love u xx charles_leclerc
pierregasly: love u dumbass 😪😪
yourusername: ur more of a dumbass than me
carlossainz55: can we confirm that charles is the biggest one out of you three ??
pierregasly: oh 100%😂
charles_leclerc: THATS NOT EVEN FAIR??😀
georgerussell63: idk man, i’ve received 394829 messages from y/n about being scared you’re going to burn the house down from making toast…😬😬
username: i love how they never had a honey moon phase it’s just straight bullying w a side of love 😭😭😭
username: childhood besties to lover core fr
username: THEHRE NEVER SERIOUS IM IN TEARSSSSSS
username: the pure unseriousness from chapiey/n is why i adore them sm😭😂
username: reason 92893 i adore them;
username: when the trio suddenly becomes romantic
username: u guys ever think y/n’s like ‘kissing my homies’ 🤔🤔
charles_leclerc: yes actually …..
yourusername: me n my homies doing romantic stuffs 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨👨‍❤️‍💋‍👨
username: just clocked in y/n dealt w their awkward phases
yourusername: ‘twas hell
pierregasly: like teenage u was any better 🙄
username: ‘my dumbasses’ i love them😖
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enha-doodles · 18 days
Note
Heyya I love your works 💗💗 and I was wondering if u u could do Slytherin boys reacting to the reader being a muggleborn 🥹
Classic yk🕺🏻🕺🏻
SLYTHERIN GUY'S REACTION TO YOU BEING A MUGGLEBORN | ✧⁺。
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Pairing : (Mattheo , Tom , Theodore , Lorenzo , Draco) x muggleborn!reader
Note : tysm bestie 🤪🤪✨ also that is such a classic request !!!
Warnings : mentions of fighting , toxicness in Tom's (I mean?)
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MATTHEO RIDDLE
Yes , he's got this thing against Muggle-borns, but if it's you, he's willing to put on his big boy pants and overlook it. But don't you dare insult his girl's blood status, or else you'll witness a show even Voldemort himself would be proud of! Picture it: a bunch of Slytherin wannabes start spouting nonsense about you not being worthy of Mattheo because he's the Dark Lord's spawn, and well you're just a stupid mudblood.
That sets Mattheo off like a firecracker! He goes all Hulk mode, smashing and bashing until they're all groveling at his feet. "Stay in your fucking place, you piece of shit, or else you won't live to tell the tale of Voldemort's son representing the Dark Lord himself!" He's a total hotie in fight mode btw
TOM RIDDLE
Now, Tom's got issues. He's got this whole orphanage baggage weighing him down, but deep down, he's just a lovesick puppy because he never received any. Sure, he hates the whole blood status talk, but he loves you more than he hates it. And merlin, does he have a way of showing it! He'll dominate and control like it's his daily job, but common, it's all out of love, right? And if anyone dares to even look at you funny, bam! It's going to be a hex city, and guess whose the population ? them.
But if you try to disobey or disrespect him he won't hesitate to return to his true self , he'd grab your chin harshly and menacingly whisper, "You're just a filthy mudblood, know your place. Here, God isn't your lord. I am."
THEODORE NOTT
hmm, Theodore, the rebel with a cause. He's not like his father , nothing like him at all and he constantly wants to prove it , this is just one of those things that help him show you and others that he's different.He couldn't care less about blood status drama. Nope, if he loves you, he loves ALL of you, flaws and all.
He'd threaten everyone around that you're his girl and if anyone says anything to you or if they try to hurt you then they'd be found dead before they can say sorry . "Get this in your stupid ass head, you dick - you mess with her, you mess with me and remember I don't pull bunnies out of a hat ."
LORENZO BERKSHIRE
Lorenzo's like that curious cat who just can't resist poking his nose into everything. Muggle stuff? Fascinating! Like Theodore he wouldn't mind . He'd actually ask more about how it's there and all the technology intrigues him but he'd still be on about how magic is better . He would support you all the time and try to indulge in stuff to make you feel better .
Would threaten his friends to be mindful of their words around you because you're very dear to him and he wouldn't mind a punch to two if it means you're protected "Hey hey hey , watch it or I won't!"
DRACO MALFOY
Draco, return of the drama queen of Slytherin lmao . He'll start off all high and mighty, spouting hurtful things left, right, and center. But when reality hits and you stop talking to him , he realizes he's messed up, cue the banging at your door , sputtering out apologies and the gifts galore - rich boy lowkey buying his way out but you can't complain because he's got all your favourite stuff .
Draco would kinda joke to lighten the mood "God, I love you, but my father cannot hear about this." Classic Draco, am I right?
。    ✧    ⁺     。
TAGLIST : @sugarcandydoll @helendeath
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gremlingottoosilly · 7 months
Note
More on the poor girl who’s 141’s chewtoy?
She has the worst fate!! Being a pet wife/incubator for one monster is bad enough, but it can be manageable if your new owner isn't an asshole and doesn't treat you like a lifeless object. It's a rare case, sure, but even Konig is somewhat softer after you get his eggs, the mating instincts in monsters are all kicking in. The 141 however...I love to see them as a pack of different breed shifters, maybe were-creatures like bears, wolves, and various birds...they all have this semi-animalistic mentality, they formed a pack bond that is stronger than any blood relations. They are more than family and it's only natural that they share the same darling, yes? Unfortunately for you, it is only natural for them, and you're soon getting dragged from the human pet shop by an excited overgrown werewolf with a dumb mohawk that chirps about getting such a pretty girl for his team!! You are never alone - every time other team members are on a mission, the other ones take care of you, always keeping watch over your silly escape attempts like humans have any future in the monster world now( Gaz is usually the one who is softer with you, his nature as a werebird is making him somewhat more caring, he will drag you a lot of shiny gifts and flashy clothes because he is pretty and he wants his girl to be pretty! Soap is usually the one to always fuck you, unfortunately. Being a classic werewolf, he is too fucking horny for his own good, always stuck in a knot with you, always mating and hoping that you will give birth to healthy pups, even though he is somewhat sad they are mostly taken away for the training needs( his pack mentality is strong, so if you really really really want at least some of your children to stay with you, you should beg Soap to allow you to see them occasionally - he would gladly steal the pups back to base, but it would mean you won't give him as much attention(
@ceilidho mostly inspired me for this, but werebear!Price is literally perfect and I won't stand for otherwise. He is big, burly, with a soft tummy and warm hands that would easily push you down, ass up in the air because you were a naughty little incubator and whined too much about Soap and Gaz being too rough( he knows your limits, and also knows that they are spoiling you too much! You need some discipline and your bear captain is gladly providing you with spanks that make your ass raw, with his teeth and a dick that takes away your ability to walk at least for a few days( he is older than every other member of the pack, and he won't really bother you too much with sex - he knows you're tired, especially if you're pregnant, and he enjoys slow cockwarming sessions and just laying in the nest with you, false hybernating on your swollen, milk-filled breasts.
Ghost is...complicated. You don't even know what type of shifter he is at first, he is too fucking secretive to even talk about it. Only after a few involuntary breakdowns, could you catch a glimpse of his shadowy form - whatever animal-type monster he was, staid in the past. He is all shadows now, dark and glossy with smoke tendrils that help him handle you in place every time you become too squirmy. You were so convinced Simon hated you at first, just a dumb human who disrupts the balance of their pack, but your fears were proven wrong once you were pressed against a wall, thick dark tendrils squeezing in and out of your pussy. Ghost is the only one who can't breed you, and it only makes him more protective whenever you're pregnant.
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Childhood friends AU Idea
Steve and Eddie are best friends who make plans to learn the elvish alphabet from The Hobbit so that they can pass notes without worrying about other people reading them.
The end of the school year (Eddie in 6th, Steve in 5th) brings a sadness to the two. Eddie's going to middle school and Steve's not yet, but they can hang out on weekends, and they have all summer so no worries. (Also, it gives Steve a little more time to learn elvish, since it'll be a whole year until they're in the same school again.)
Except yes worries because two weeks into summer, Eddie vanishes. When Steve bikes to his house to investigate, the whole house is empty. Packed up and gone. Steve goes to Wayne for answer and all he gets is a smile that doesn't really reassure and words of "his dad got a job opportunity, had to move on short notice. But don't worry, kiddo. I'll get you the number to their new place so you can call."
He learns elvish anyway. It's harder without Eddie to help but he's determined. Eddie might return, or maybe he'll get an address one day. Send a letter to Eddie in full Elvish.
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Steve never gets a number or address. Summer ends and sixth grade comes. He doesn't want to forget all the elvish he's learned, just in case. So, he decides to keep a journal. He can write all about everything that's happening and when he sees Eddie, he can give it to him. It's a double win. Eddie will know everything he's missed out on AND it'll help Steve practice elvish.
Sixth grade ends. Eddie doesn't return. Steve did make friends with Carol Perkins though, so he's not as lonely. He hopes Eddie made a new friend, too. But not a new best friend. That's Steve's position, always.
Seventh grade brings Tommy Hagan, but still no Eddie. It brings a growth spurt and sports. Steve likes the easy camaraderie that comes with sports teams. It's like having a lot of friends, which Steve will only admit to needing in his journal. Needing many little connections of friendship to hold together the big hole Eddie left behind.
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The summer between seventh and eighth grade brings him a Bruce Springsteen concert. He'd never thought of a boy kissing another boy until he'd witnessed it on stage but he thinks about it a lot after. The end of that summer brings an awaken he refuses to shy away from even if he has to hide it
Eighth grade brings popularity. Steve's good looking, rich, and liked among his peers. It brings the first (and last) time his dad says he's proud of him.
(Steve will spend the rest of his high school career chasing his father's approval.)
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Freshman year brings Eddie back, but he's different. His hair is longer and his clothes are darker and he's distant. Defiant and angry. Steve would recognize him anywhere, dressed in anyway.
Eddie doesn't want his friendship anymore. Avoids him in the halls and cafeteria, but Steve is nothing if not persistent. He writes a full letter in elvish to slip into Eddie's locker, but Eddie catches him. Shoves the letter back, unopened, unread, with a harsh whispered, "Don't you get it Harrington? I don't want to be your friend. Fuck off."
Steve doesn't understand why. Not until the table top rants start. Conformity and jocks and brain-dead rich kids who get by on favoritism.
It hurts. Steve feels his heart break the day he finally gets the not-so-subtle messages drilled into his mind. Eddie hates sports, and rich people, and stupid people. Eddie hates all the things that Steve is.
Eddie hates him.
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Sophomore year brings Steve a lot of things. It brings the acknowledgment that he was probably in love with Eddie, the way his heart twists the day he sees Eddie flirting with a girl in the hallway, the way he wants the lights out when hooking up with someone so he can imagine a different person pressed against him, the way he gravitates towards brunettes with brown eyes and the flickering hope it might make Eddie jealous. (The way he'd said the wrong name when Brent went down on him, too absorbed in the fantasy of someone else to get it right. Brent hadn't been offended by it, he'd been thinking of someone else, too. Steve finds solidarity for a little bit, until the school year ends and Brent leaves Hawkins.)
Junior year turns Steve's life upside down (pun intended) with monster's coming out of walls. There's probably a lot more he should write about but his journal's pretty empty this year. Too traumatized to document. (Too afraid of what Eddie would say because Steve still writes in his journal like he plans on sending it to Eddie one day. Better to write nothing than sound crazy.)
And halfway through his senior year (don't think about how he's in it with Eddie, about the 4 classes they share, about how Eddie still won't meet his eye) he wants to fade into the background. Nancy and he break up. She's with Jonathan and he hears the whispers of how pathetic he is to be eating lunch with his ex and the guy that 'stole' her. Steve knows that's a lie, Nancy made her choice, and no one can say otherwise, but it hurts to hear. He can't be bothered to try and make new friends. How would he explain the nightmares? The skittishness. The fear of the dark, of pumpkin patches, of his own damn pool now that he's had time to process last year?
Then, the next year brings him Robin. Well. First it brings him an embarrassing uniform and then Russian torture (don't think about it. Don't think about how he'll shorthand the stock list by writing it in Elvish sometimes. Don't think about how the Russian's almost believe they just work for Scoops until they find the stock list in his pocket. Don't think about how they don't believe that the strange script they can't identify isn't proof he's a spy), but in the end he gets Robin. A Platonic Soulmate who understands the hidden side of him. She asked if he was ever in love, and he thinks of the Eddie he used to know, longs to know again, and describes her instead. She rejects him in the softest way possible and then confesses about Tammy, and he confesses about Eddie in turn.
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1986 brings Eddie back into his life in the worst way possible. With a bottle to his neck and them both acting like they've never spoken before. It brings twisting guts as Steve lies awake thinking about Eddie alone in a boathouse instead of sharing a bed with him like they used to in elementary school. It brings Steve leading them to Skull Rock (popularized as a make out spot but started as a set of boys' favorite place to play pirates during the summer). Dustin and Eddie make references Steve pretends to not know, despite his own copies of The Hobbit and Lord of the Rings and the numerous amounts of notebooks turned journals with elvish scrawled throughout.
There's a trek through the Upside Down. In another universe, Steve imagines he and Eddie talk. In this one, Robin sticks to his side like an extension of him (which she is), and glares at Eddie every time he looks in Steve's direction. Robin knows everything, knows it all, because there are no secrets between them.
They make plans to stop Vecna, once and for all, and Robin confesses she has a fear. That it won't turn out okay this time, but they have to try anyway. Steve clinks his bottle against hers and looks across the field to Eddie and Dustin. The stakes feel so much higher this time.
"I'm going to talk to Eddie if we survive. Make it right," he says.
"No. He's going to make it right because you didn't do anything wrong," Robin says, which is more support than he thought he'd get given the grudge she holds in his favor.
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Eddie said make him pay and Steve does. Nancy advances, shotgun shot after shot and Steve's bounding down the stairs. Vecna beats him to the ground floor but not by much.
A hatchet's not the best tool to remove a head with but he manages. When he looks up, Nancy and Robin are looking down, both approving.
They find Dustin sobbing over Eddie and- and-
Steve's certain he's broken several of Eddie's ribs but he's breathing again, Nancy finds his pulse beneath all the blood, and Robin's retrieved the cut sheets to make bandages out of. Nothing is clean in this world, infection could kill him later, he might not save Eddie like he wants, but fucking Christ, at least if death claims him, it'll be on the right side of the world in a hospital.
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Dustin, Robin, and Steve are at Eddie's side when Nancy leads Wayne into the room. They knew she went out looking for him (Steve was going to but Nancy had shoved him back in the chair with a look that left no room for argument) but even so they're startled by him.
Wayne has always been stoic and reserved, so it's no surprise to Steve when he just lets out a low whistle and says, "of all the people I might see here, you weren't one of 'em."
Steve swallows thickly and says, "well. I am. Here, I mean."
And Wayne gives him a watery smile and crosses the room. Pulls Steve into a hug that Steve thinks he probably wants to give to Eddie instead, but Eddie's not awake and standing and Steve is. But then Wayne says, "I told Eddie he couldn' chase ya away. That if he just talked to ya, you'd understand. He tried so hard to make ya hate him, and for what? For ya to be at his bedside anyway."
And Steve sobs. Loud and ugly and suddenly Dustin's there, and so are Robin and Nancy, and it's probably the most awkward hug for all the others but it's the best hug Steve's had in years. He doesn't even care that he's crying because how can he? Wayne's all but confirmed that Eddie doesn't hate him, maybe never hated him. That Eddie has an explanation, a reason for it all, and all he wants is Eddie to wake up and tell him.
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Steve finally gets his apology two days after Eddie's release. It's the first time they've been alone together since- well, since elementary school. Wayne drove him here then lied about needing to check on something and said he'd be back in an hour or so before abandoned them to the awkward silence in Steve's living room.
"I'm sorry, Steve!" Eddie blurts out loudly, then looks startled by his own yelling.
"I know. I forgive you."
"You shouldn't."
"I know. Still do anyway. Would like to know what happened, though."
And Eddie tells him. How his father's debts came calling and they ran. How his mom got sick real fast, and his father's crime spree and prison sentence following her passing. How Eddie discovered the same thing about himself that Steve did but didn't have the same acceptance of himself. Hated that another thing marked him as Other. Freak.
He tells Steve how he couldn't let Steve back in because he was afraid of losing him again if he ever learned.
"I didn't think you'd be okay being friends with a faggot," Eddie spits the word out, dirty and mean and directed at himself.
Steve makes a decision then. "Follow me." And he helps Eddie up the stairs and into his room. Eddie sits on the bed and watches as Steve digs out notebook after notebook after notebook, until they're a tower on his bed. Then he topples them over in his search for the first.
Eddie takes the offered notebook with confusion on his face, looking from the cover, where 1978 is written on it. The summer Eddie vanished from Steve's life.
"Open it."
Eddie does and gasps. "Steve. Is this-"
"Every single one of these notebooks was written to you. For you. About you. I read The Hobbit for you. The Lord of the Rings. I learned elvish for you. I think I've been a little bit in love with you since the day we met on the playground on my second day of first grade."
"Steve," it comes out breathless and awed.
"Eddie," Steve repeats back to him, just as breathless as Eddie tosses the notebook aside and reaches for Steve instead. Hauls him in to kiss him senseless amongst the proof of Steve's devotion.
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nsharks · 1 year
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Hi! I love love LOVE the way you write Ghost and his relationship w/ the reader!! Ignore me if requests are closed, but how did he react when the reader discovered she was pregnant???
"surprising ghost with a pregnancy" words: 1.8k tags: pregnant reader, fem!reader, slight angst?, fluff
“Hope ya don’t miss me during breaks, Lt.”
Soap watches the man he admires, in his infamous ruthlessness and all, stare with a straight gaze at the base’s entrance.
“Only when I drink too much,” Ghost says.
His mask is good for anonymity, yes. But it also does well in moments like these: the Scot beside him has no idea of the pulsing artery in his neck, the eagerness in each flicker of his gaze. He’s looking for you. Looking beyond the gates where you should be hidden somewhere.
Soap has no idea.
“What do you do in your free time, mate?” Soap wonders aloud, shifting the bag over his shoulder. Then, in a cheeky murmur, “Didn’t hear this from me, but I’ve heard whispers ‘bout some criminal activity.”
“Criminal activity?” Ghost repeats dully.
They’re getting closer.
He looks towards the spot you normally wait for him in: is that—?
He can see you.
The tension in his limbs fades to adoration. In the shadows, perfectly hidden but readily visible to his knowing eyes, is his girlfriend. Wearing one of the black hoodies he’d left behind. So big on you. He nearly groans at the sight.
Girlfriend is a weak title.
He hates it. It doesn’t encompass the truth of you: it’s such a simple word, too simple to capture how complicated of an effect you’d had on his life for nearly five years. To say Ghost loves his girlfriend would be to say he has a reason to live. It would be to say that you’ve got this behemoth of a man wrapped so tightly around your finger that his lungs just don’t work the same until he’s holding you.
(Perhaps that’s the reason for the little black box in his bag.)
He turns to the Sergeant and gives a half-hearted clap to his shoulder. “I save the criminal activity for weekends, Johnny.”
And with that, he leaves him (never was one for heartfelt goodbyes).
But he is now one for heartfelt reunions, he figures, because he’s ghosting his way towards you like some wild creature. Preying. Slipping under any eyes. His skeletal hands beyond desperate.
If Soap were to look carefully outside, under the shadow of the building, he’d see how the Lieutenant actually spends his free time.
He’d see his broad form envelop you.
He’d see him eagerly inch up his mask to reveal a pink mouth that doesn’t waste any time before sealing over yours.
And maybe, if he really looked, Soap might’ve been able to see how you cling to Ghost’s chest and tremble.
(But Soap doesn’t see any of this. Not today.)
Not even Ghost, whose got you in his arms, sees the shaking at first. His mind is a bit frenzied with the sensory overload of your smell, your soft hair, your breasts against his chest.
He only ends the kiss so he can get a good look at your face.
“Three months,” he grumbles, lips wet as he ushers the mask back over them. “Felt like a fuckin’ lifetime.”
“I know,” you whisper, but you fail to meet his eyes. “I was worried about you.”
The faintest contour of a smirk beneath his mask.
“Worried, were you?” He rubs your knuckles. “Lovely girl. Don’ worry about me. I’m a bit tough to kill.”
“Don’t,” your eyebrows pinch together. “Please… don’t even mention that.”
He rests his masked chin on top the crown of your head. His arms are so strong and warm and you breathe it all in. His hands stroke your hair with the gentlest of caresses as if, even after five years, he thinks you might be a fragile dream.
“I was so worried,” you say again. A whisper that he barely hears. “I—“
It’s now that he notices something. The rush of adrenaline has soothed over and now, taking your hands in his, Ghost notices the little tremors, swallows them up in the gulf of his large palms.
“Jesus, love,” he frowns. “You’re trembling.”
“There’s… something—“
Ashen eyelashes flutter against smudges of black paint. His shoulders tense as he pulls his chin away from your scented hair. Shifting his weight from boot to boot, Ghost further tucks you behind the colossal mass of him so even now, if someone were to look, all they’d see was his back.
His brows furrow behind a hard-shell skull. “What something?”
You’ve practiced these word so many times but now—
“What?” your boyfriend repeats, low and gruff. His relief is quickly turning into something dark. “Fuck, tell me. Did somethin’ happen?”
“Well, yes—“
“Christ,” he chokes. He doesn’t want to assume the worst, but it’s a gnawing fear. Always. “Someone else?”
“No, Simon.” You’re shaking your head. “It’s not that—“
“What is it then? What’s got you like this?”
“Just—“ and you swallow your fear, “Give me your hand, baby.”
“My hand,” he repeats numbly and offers you one. You take his hand and tug at the glove. There’s little give, so he swears under his breath and helps you pry the fabric off to reveal warm, calloused skin.
Here, tucked away outside a military base, you guide his bare hand under the hoodie you’ve got on. Hold his fingers and spread them apart so he can cup the small growth of your stomach.
Because the reason for your trembling lies here.
Small, growing. Supple skin stretching over a little piece of him and you.
It takes him a moment to process the news under his hand.
He smooths his hand over you. Even after three months, he knows every inch.
This—
This feels different.
You watch a kaleidoscope of realizations, feelings, and perturbation play in his eyes.
You’ve had to keep this secret to yourself for weeks now because it wasn’t something you could just share over the phone. It was too heavy. Too intimate.
Surely, it’ll distract him from his job.
That’s what you figured. But now—
—seeing his eyes cloud frantically, you wonder if showing up 16 weeks pregnant was the best move.
“Fuckin’ hell,” Ghost murmurs. Keeps moving his hand over your little belly as if he’s not quite sure it’s real.
So you lift up the hoodie even more, just here for the two of you to see, and reveal the entirety of your secret for him to peer down at.
And now that he sees it, the unmistakeable bulge, the reality truly sinks in.
He’s silent at first. You kind of expected him to be: your boyfriend is a man of few words. But it doesn’t make the drawn-out moment of uncertainty any less excruciating. You study his eyes with a bated breath.
Children. It’s not something you talked about too much. He’d said in the very beginning that it was completely off the table because “I’d make an awful father”.
But that was years ago and Simon had molded into someone softer, someone less afraid. Someone who, with the help of your love and light, had ripped through the tangled ropes of distrust and guilt that he’d been caught in.
“Say something,” you finally whisper. “Please, Simon. I know- I know this is surprising.”
But all he utters is, “How?”
“The pill isn’t perfect,” you explain sheepishly. “That’s what the doctor told me—“
“…Doctor?”
“Well, I’ve been to the doctor a few times already.”
Lowly, “You… a few times?”
“To make sure everything was alright, baby,” you whisper carefully. “But I— I didn’t ask for the sex yet. I wanted to… I thought you’d want to be with me for that.”
Ghost is controlled. He’s precise and tactical and rarely caught off-guard. But this, the swell that lays under his hand which he hasn’t been able to look away from, has managed to thrust him into feelings he rarely experiences. He feels confused. Shaken to the core. He’s spent most of his adult life determined to stay alone, protect anyone from ever getting caught in the hallow storm of tragedy that is his life.
But you—
You infiltrated his life with promises of bright colors and warm touches and suddenly, somehow, Ghost began to enjoy coming home. He ached for it. He wanted to keep you close and safely tucked away so that little light of yours would never fade from his life.
And now you’ve given him another promise, one that rests in his palm. Death— he understands that too well, perhaps. But this little promise of life is so new and confusing and in mere seconds, it has torn the past from the future. Ghost could never be the same shell of a person he once was because now he’s been filled to the brim. Could he even be trusted with all of this? He’d always felt like there was a carved void where his boyhood had been taken from him, ripped away by terror. How could he be a father with such hole in his chest?
What could he give?
You’re crying. He’s been thrown into such a daze that he failed to notice the onslaught of tears and quiet sniffling coming from his girl.
“Hey,” he’s grounded in the present now, swallowing down the shards of his hesitation and wrapping his arms around you. He could give this. “Hey now. I’m here… I’m here.”
“You’re here?” you ask him, weeping.
“Yes, sweetheart. Christ, m’here. Always.”
In perhaps his first act of fatherhood, Ghost holds you close and murmurs promises of love and safety into your hair. You’d been so scared to tell him. He wouldn’t leave you, no, he could never. If there was ever an ounce of worry that he might—
It’s now smothered by his presence, his warmth, his strength.
“You’re making me a father,” Ghost whispers after the two of you just stand there for sometime. His voice: terrified and in awe all at once. “Don’t know if I’ll be a good one.”
“Simon-“
“But-“ And he gives the entirety of you a squeeze. He’s not going anywhere. “But I won’t be like my old man. Fuck, I swear it to you.”
“I know you won’t, Simon.”
Ghost decides to push his inhibitions to the back of his mind. He can be strong, he can be what you need. He will prove this to you over and over.
“And here I thought you jus’ liked wearing my clothes,” Ghost mumbles, a bit numb and a bit elated.
He reaches for your stomach again and rubs the bump over the fabric of his hoodie. (Perhaps, here lies another reason to live.)
Your crying has ceased. Twisting his uniform in your hands, you murmur with a weak laugh, “Might be the only thing that fits me soon.”
“Bloody hell.” And Ghost sighs. Holding the two of you now, he already feels like all the synapses in his brain have been rewired. Lighted up with a primal urge to protect, he doesn’t think about all the worries for right now. No— just thinks about how he’s going to smother your stomach with kisses once you’re home.
“I’ve got plenty more of those for you to wear.”
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virgincels · 2 months
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PAWFECT !
ft. og4!leon s. kennedy x fem!reader
tags. hybrids, they’re treated like dogs so power dynamics, spaying, creampie, p in v, smut, daddy kink, fluff, pussy inspection
note. SHUT UP. all nyxs fault all her doing. og4 leon btw it wouldn’t work otherwise!! ignore typos n just bad fic over all I was tweaking .. omg forgive me . honestly just snippets of leon n his puppy girl!! super short
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“Baby,” Leon says, it’s the closest to cooing he’ll ever get, “smile for me, baby, c’mon.”
You blank him, rolling over to stare at a small hole in the wall. The refusal to do what he says is a stab in the heart.
“What happened to my good girl?” He hooks his fingers in your mouth, forcing your lips into a grin as he bares your half-formed canines. “There it is, look at that.”
For the first time in your docile existence, you bite Leon. You bite your daddy and he yelps like a little girl—This has one of your ears twitching, the urge to run to his aid is likely strong but you stay put like the stubborn little bitch you are.
The vet said your grudge would last a day or so. That puppies can be temperamental creatures, but they’re soft at heart. A nice way to say that dogs are dumber than a box of rocks - you included. You’re the stupidest of them all and that’s what Leon likes about you.
Your grudge lasts two days, then three, then four, then five—A week long extension. And it’s not just the cold shoulder. It’s the food bowl that sits on the ground covered in a film of dust, out of use. It’s the side of his bed that remains empty as you burrow into your pink doggy bed that you outgrew long ago—There was never any use for the thing, you started to sleep in Leon’s bed the night you came home with him. Man, he used to hate when you whined at the bathroom door while he took a shit, but now Leon would do anything to have that back.
Worst of all, it’s the lack of sex. Leon did this for your good—You like playtime, it’s your favourite part of the day, even better than breakfast or lunch or dinner. You also love being bred, like the warmth, makes you sleepy. No more heat cycles, no more condoms. It’s a win-win. Call him cruel all you want, the shit makes you go insane—He got through, like, twenty rubbers in a day. Think about all those costs, then think about a single procedure, weigh ‘em up and you’ll see what led him to tie your tubes.
Leon makes a call to Rebecca, she comes with a stethoscope and Claire in tow. He’s in for an earful. Hybrid rights activist his ass, you’re his pup and Leon can do what he wants with you. An endless supply of creampies is what his girl dreams about, and he only does what’s best for you—He knows you, when you get over this slump you’ll appreciate all he’s done for you.
“And where does it hurt?” Rebecca’s eyes soften as you place a hand over your heart, blinking up at her with big eyes for added effect.
Oh, baby—Oh, honey— Both of them kneel by your side, scratching behind an ear each, showering you in enough affection to last a century.
“She’s acting,” Leon informs them, only to be met with outrage, “I regret it, swear on my life,” says Leon, who does not.
“You should, look at this sweet girl, what if she wanted to be a mommy.” Claire rubs your tummy, pads of her fingers digging into the pudge, your foot thumps against the floor as your body goes lax. When you look for affection from Leon, he rubs your clit instead of your belly.
“She doesn’t go outside, not gonna be a mommy either way.”
“That’s not the point, Leon, it’s cruel,” she argues, “she’s not a sex doll, are you baby? No, no, you’re not a sex doll, you’re a good girl, yes you are.” He fucking hates the baby voice. If you wanna get knocked up so badly, you should be spoken to like a big girl, but you can’t even make it to the potty on time so how is Leon meant to trust you with a litter?
“It makes it easier to deal with her cycles, I mean, she won’t get them at all now—“ Rebecca’s actual scientific evidence is shut down by a single glare from Claire.
“Get rid of your balls, how would you like that?”
“She likes my balls, can’t do that to her—Anyway, there’s no space for kids,” Leon says shortly, “I’d have to sell ‘em and she’d get all depressed.”
“She should have the choice, Leon, an option at least.” Claire doesn’t know that you can’t pick between dry food and wet food, that you break down when you’re given a choice, even if presented gently.
“Yeah, well, it’s too late.” And hooray to that.
“You’re mean,” she tells him, and he knows, he’s so mean—So selfish. Doing what’s best for his pup is so mean of him. Big Bad Leon crushing your puppy dreams in the palm of his hand like a page out of a diary.
“Mhm, okay, bye now, Claire, you should get going—Thanks for coming, Becca.” Leon escorts them to the door, he gives Claire a gentle push over the threshold and slams it in her face. “So fuckin’ annoying, tellin’ me what to do, and you just let her say that to me baby.”
Your face is indifferent, devoid of the usual warmth you carry in your expression. Dopey bitch. Don’t even know left from right and you think you know what’s best for you?
“So you’re gonna be like that?” Leon asks, and you blink at him, gaze steely. Fine. Two can play that game. He gets his dick out and twiddles it like his thumbs, your mouth waters the moment it comes into your eye line. “Baby, you could’ve held out a little longer.” He laughs quietly when you come to nose at his cock with shining eyes. “Yeah, you’re my greedy little bitch, aren’t you, baby? Yeah, you are.”
“I didn’t mean to make you upset.” He strokes your head tenderly as you mouth at his cock, slicking him up in thick drool from tip to base, icing him like a goddamn cake. “Baby, you know I didn’t mean it—Are you listening?” A whine slips from the base of your throat when he redirects your attention to his face.
“Okay, okay, I’m sorry, baby, you wanna play ball, don’t you?” That gets your tail wagging. “Yes you do, I know you do, c’mere—“ Now he’s doing the fucking baby voice as he deposits a ball at a time into your wet mouth, your teeth scraping the sensitive skin of his sac, tracing your tongue along the seam.
This is forgiveness he supposes - you choking on his balls like you’re trying to swallow them whole. Peace is restored wholly when he fucks you that night. “Daddy can do this now,” Leon tells you as he fills you with enough seed to stock up a sperm bank.
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You don’t like Ada because Leon likes her, and you don’t like Ashley because she likes Leon. Girls bring out something feral within you, a strain of rabies that has been dormant in your system, waiting for anger to thaw your veins—You ruled out Claire, Rebecca and Jill as threats the moment you gave them a sniff.
Ada left his apartment with a ladder in her stockings and the indentations of puppy teeth in her ass cheek. She was on top - it was a no brainer to go right for her ass. Leon gets it, he wants to sink his teeth into her the same way. She squealed like he’s never heard before and he thought for a minute he fucked her real good. He didn’t even get to cum, she hopped off and made a beeline for the door and you scampered after her, one of her red heels chewed into a sopping leather mess in your mouth.
(Ada doesn’t like dogs, but she likes Leon.)
Ashley waltzes in. “I’m so good with dogs, Leon! I love them, I used to have this great big Labrador, he was so good, Leon! Like he even sat and rolled over when I asked him too—He reminds me of you, actually.” Then she bends over to pet you on the head, but the close proximity between her and him is not to your liking so you bite the hand that saved his life a couple times, a hand that is worth more than his D.C apartment - furniture included.
“Told you she’s tricky.” Leon lifts you up, tosses you over his shoulder so you’re no harm then he finds himself missing your sweet face so you’re swung back over to be cradled in his arms like the big baby you are.
“Ouch, Leon, she’s really mean.” Ashley soothes the pain by flapping her hand in the air, a fruitless endeavour, the cold air from a nearby open window causes it to sting.
“Nah, she don’t bite that hard, do you, baby?” He pushes a finger into your mouth and you nibble on it with a significantly decreased bite-force. “See? Just teething.”
There’s Sherry, you love Sherry more than she does Leon, you run around her in circles and situate yourself on her tiny lap and lick at every inch of her tiny face. You let Leon give you a good scrub before Sherry comes over, put on a fresh set of clothes that aren’t his old t-shirts with ragged collars from all the teething you do. Heck, he even manages to put you in some cute undies.
They come and go, but you stay. And each time a woman leaves his place, you sit your pussy on his face and scoot around— He asks you: “What the fuck you are doing, baby?” Muffled into the fat of your pussy of course, but you never respond. He brushes it off as you scenting him—Whatever pups do when they’re feeling territorial.
And who is he to complain? Your pussy makes him happy. Leon sucks your clit into his mouth, reaches around to pinch the base of your wagging tail between his index and forefinger, stroking up and down to have your thighs tightening around his head.
You circle your hips into him, drool pooling in your mouth and dribbling down your chin as you chew on your favourite stuffed toy, whimpering into the spit-soaked fabric while Leon works your drippy hole open with his tongue. The tip of his nose grinds into your swollen clit, and you only budge once you’ve waterboarded him with your squirt.
Then you very generously provide him with a clean-up service, lapping at the sticky wetness coating his cheeks and suckling on his nose. That always makes him laugh. More often than not it’s a gradual transition into a play fight, you nip at his fingers and your ears twitch, a playful smile brightening your face.
The two of you roll around and Leon, being the bully he is, pins you to the ground, holding your wriggling body down as he slides his sweats down and slots his cock right into your twitching pussy. He grabs your tail to pull you back on his dick, and you might be one stupid bitch, but you’re cock-smart—You know what he wants and push your ass back against his thighs, wet skin smacking as you pick up the pace, faltering only when Leon takes ahold of your ears and uses them as fucking handlebars.
He can’t help himself, they looked too cute, flopping about all over the place. Looked like fuckin’ Dumbo. It doesn’t hurt you—No, it’s the opposite, you cum so hard you pass out in a heap the minute he lets go.
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“Thank you, baby.” Leon pats your head as you shove two pussy-wet fingers into his mouth. “That’s so sweet, baby, can daddy take a look at what you’re doing?”
You smile at him shyly, like you didn’t just force-feed him slick, he catches the shape of your tail wagging low between your thighs, then you roll over onto your belly—Leon gives the fold of your tummy a sweet kiss first, then you turn over, taking your hand out of your panties to let him take care of the rest.
The seat of your panties is basically pasted to your pussy, strings of slick breaking as Leon peels them off. “What’s got you worked up, baby?” He spreads your ass, dipping his nose into your tighter hole as his tongue runs along your slit.
Leon raises his head, he parts your fat lips with his fingers and your cunt clicks when he digs a finger into your tight hole, it pulses around him, begs for more, for something thicker. The hood of your clit is pulled back by his thumb and prodded with his tongue, and your labia is parted by his nose, dragging up and down your soaked pussy. When he’s done messing around, Leon lays his tongue flat on your pussy, licking fat stripes up and down the centre of your cunt, dusting kisses on your throbbing clit until you gush down your thighs.
Man, you don’t even need a heat to get you wet. See, it all worked out in the long run, he’s pretty sure you don’t even remember what went down merely a week earlier.
“Come sit on it, princess,” he hums when you lick into his mouth, sucking on his tongue sloppily, a steady stream of drool slicking up the bottom half of his face. You’ve got a lot of love to give and he’ll take it.
You’re well-trained when it comes to cock and not much else, easing down on Leon’s dick while you brace your hands on his shoulders, pussy tightening when he scratches behind your ears. He plants his feet on the ground, lifting off his heels to fuck up into your plush cunt, squelching every time he bottoms out, cute tits bouncing as you sit pretty on his cock like a pencil topper.
The absence of a knot is always a bother to you. When he cums, you wait expectantly for his cock to swell and stretch you out beautifully, tear your pussy in half—It never comes so you paw at his face to express your disappointment, like you’re telling him to do better.
Maybe there's surgery for it. There’s one for everything these days. From cropping to defanging - a manufactured knot shouldn’t be out of the question. He’d do it for you, he would, even if it was a dodgy procedure in the same alley as coat hanger abortions and junkie meet-ups.
Not really. Leon wouldn’t really. He quite likes his dick how it is, and once you get over the initial anticlimactic flop of his knotless cock, staring out the window like a disillusioned star - you’re back on it less than a minute later.
A lack of understanding for his refractory period causes Leon discomfort as you force yourself down on his soft dick, he sits through it to make up for all the places he falls short. You rut your hips into him, trembling with excitement as he hardens inside of you, cock shaping your insides into something pretty. Then you show him that you love him via a spit shower, which Leon is not too fond of, your pussy on a platter would be ideal, but he doesn’t stop you.
Sometimes you suck his cock till your tongue feels like sandpaper. Sometimes you sob so hard when he leaves for work you throw up and he spends half an hour scrubbing mushy kibble out of the carpet. Sometimes you eat things you aren’t supposed to, and sometimes you are one nasty piece of work, but Leon loves you anyway. ‘Cause you’re his piece of work.
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cheolhub · 11 months
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EVENING GLOW — KIM MINGYU ࿐
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summary. you’re having a horrible, no good, very bad day and mingyu wants to do everything he can to make it better.
wc. 4.5k+
warnings. hurt/comfort, overthinking, reader goes through it and cries a lot, allusions to having anxiety, smut! soft bf!mingyu, so much praise (it’s insane), pet names (angel, baby, sweet/pretty girl), reader is v needy and sensitive, a lot of reassurance, hand holding, fingering, oral (f. receiving), multiple orgasms, slight dumbification, creampie, V SOFT, unprotected sex — MINORS DNI 18+
note. because i love keir ( @jeonghantis ) and bc they deserve the world and all of the stars. also it’s really for anyone who’s had way too many bad days in a row <3 u are very loved (by me and ur fave). also, i lost sight of the plot half way thru this (very common reoccurrence in all of my mingyu fics) so i apologize for that hehsh. i appreciate ur feedback! <3 and yes, this is loosely based off evening glow by wave to earth <33333333 + @toruro i also hope u like this hehehe
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bad days aren’t uncommon for you, but you’ve had significantly less since kim mingyu waltzed into your life like the klutz he is. he manages to make every day brighter by simply existing. every smile, every laugh, every touch makes bad days seem like a distant memory.
that’s not to say you don’t still have them because you do. 
you still have days– like today– where it seems like nothing is right. days where you overthink every single thing in your life, ‘am i doing this right?’ ‘does he still love me?’ ‘does any of this even fucking matter?’ days where you want the earth to crack all the way open and swallow you whole. 
those days are beyond harsh. they have you trudging back home with wet lash lines, cloudy vision, and a loud voice in your head that’s begging– pleading– don’t cry, don’t cry, please don’t cry. 
and today… today felt like you went to hell and back. the second your eyes opened, you knew it was going to be one of those days and it truly was a series of rather unfortunate events. you woke up late and alone, you were reprimanded by your boss, you spilled your much-needed coffee during your break, your coworkers were much more hostile than usual, you got yelled at by clients over the phone, your personal phone died halfway through the day because, of course, you forgot to charge it last night, and then, the intrusive thoughts came. the ones that had you overthinking like crazy. 
and it’s not like you could talk to anyone about it (read: talk to mingyu about it). your phone was dead and you hated all of your coworkers, so you were stuck. stuck in limbo, it seemed, mind plagued with horrid thoughts. everything good in your life didn’t feel so good anymore. 
which is why you were practically in tears when you got back home, letting them roll down your face shamelessly as your hand fumbled the keys. you eventually got it into the lock– after steadying your shaky hand– turning the metal and letting yourself in. the second you shut the door, you press your back against it, head in your hands as you let out the soft sobs you've been holding in all day. 
on most of your bad days, you can keep your tears at bay till you make it into the shower. but, on days like today, you just can’t and your sobs echo through the empty apartment, reminding you that you’ll be alone till your boyfriend arrives. it’s not the prettiest sight, though, so you’re partially glad that mingyu misses it since he gets home after you. 
he usually does, at least. 
what you don’t realize is mingyu is home and he’s wandering around the apartment with his brows furrowed, confused as to where the sound of crying is coming from.
and when he sees you at the main entrance with your hands covering your face, he feels the air leave his lungs and his heart almost literally cracks in half. 
he treads carefully, slowly making his way to you. “...baby?”
you’re startled, choking on one of your sobs at the sound of his voice. out of mere embarrassment, you quickly wipe your tears with your sleeve though it does nothing to hide the fact that you actually have been crying. 
“gyu…” you say with a wavering voice, doing your absolute best to keep up your shitty facade. you quickly feel your resolve crumbling as you both stand in awkward silence, so you put your head down to avoid eye contact. “i-i thought you were working?”
he ignores your question and counters with his own, “Y/N, what’s wrong?”
you bite your trembling lip and shake your head, eyes still trained on the floor. 
he walks a few steps closer, now towering over your trembling body, “c’mon, angel. tell me what happened.”
you take a shuddered breath, slowly raising your head to look up at him. he frowns at your bloodshot eyes and tear-stained cheeks and at the fact that all you can say is “hi…” in a nearly-inaudible, yet dulcet voice.
“hi, baby,” he whispers back, hands coming to cup your cheeks, thumbs wiping at your stray tears. “tell me what happened.” he repeats, a bit more demanding this time. 
you deflate, “i just had a bad day… it was nothing.”
he shakes his head at how you invalidate yourself, “it’s not nothing if it’s making you cry, Y/N…” he gently reminds.  “please tell me? i wanna help… if you’ll let me.”
you sigh, leaning into his touch. your eyes flutter close and the words escape you before your brain can process them. you tell him everything trying your hardest to not let your emotions get the best of you. it’s not like mingyu would care if you were crying and blubbering out your words, but you knew he hated seeing you so upset, so you refrain from shedding more tears. 
you try to refrain, at least. you can’t stop the way they helplessly fall when you open your eyes again. “nothing was going right, gyu… my day was so bad that it had me overthinking every little thing.”
“i’m sorry, baby.” he whispers, pressing his forehead against yours. “i’m so sorry i wasn’t there for you.”
you shake your head profusely, swallowing the lump you feel in your throat, “n-no! no, please, it’s not your fault, gyu, i swear. my phone died, so it’s not like you could’ve known anyway.”
he pulls away from you, hands coming down to hold yours. “what did you think about?” 
you squeeze his hands, “a lot of things…”
“like?” he frowns, pressing further.
you look away, mumbling out a lie, “i dunno. it was a lot… i can’t really remember right now. ”
truth be told, you didn’t want to admit the anxiety-induced thoughts you had earlier knowing he’d worry. if he heard half the ones you had about your relationship, you know he’d probably break down himself. you’re well aware mingyu loves you more than anything on earth because he never fails to remind you.
but sometimes, the tiny voice in the back of your head– the one that says he’s too good to be true– gets a bit too loud and you tend to forget all his little reminders– all the ‘i love you’s’ he whispers into your ear right before bed, all the kisses he peppers onto your face, all the hugs where he squeezes the life out of you. 
“you don’t have to tell me what you thought about, but i do want to tell you something,” he starts, a small smile making its way onto his pretty lips. he leans into you, with a voice so small as he says, “i love you. and i know i suffocate you with it sometimes, but it’s true. i love you so much. please don’t ever doubt that.”
you nod, sniffling, “i know.” 
his smile grows, “and?...”
your lips curve up a bit and you whisper, “and i love you, too.”
“you better not forget it,” he playfully jokes, forehead resting on yours again. “you know i love you the most, though.”
you giggle softly, shaking your head. “you always turn it into a competition. you know it isn’t right?”
“i know it isn’t, but i do.” he confirms, voice tender and a bit hushed. “i want you to remember that the next time you think too hard. i love my pretty girl the most… more than anything. i’d do anything to keep you happy. wanna see that pretty smile everyday.”
the genuinity– the love– that drips from his words has you weak. the words replay in your head over and over almost as if it’s on a constant loop.
i love my pretty girl. 
my pretty girl.
your breath hitches at the unanticipated pet name, remembering the sweet, innocent way it rolled off his tongue. you know you probably shouldn’t feel this way, but it doesn’t stop the way you squeeze your thighs together, pussy pulsing at the mere term of endearment. you’re almost sure mingyu can feel the heat radiating off your skin, yet he does nothing. he stands still, warm, brown eyes staring at your tear-stained face.
so you take matters into your own hands. 
you stand tall and lean into him. your nose brushes against his and the proximity between the two of you closes quickly. i want to be kissed, your face reads– begs– and he finally sees that, obliging reluctantly. 
his eyes flutter and his lips graze against yours before you take the lead and close the gap for him. as his mouth collides with yours, you feel warmth erupt in your body and you relish it.
the kiss is soft. gentle. it nearly has you melting under him.
but the longer his lips mold against yours, the longer his tongue roams the inside of your mouth, the needier you get. it’s like all your worries wash away. all the bad thoughts evaporate into thin air. all you can think about is the everlasting love you have for the man before you and the incessant love he has for you, too.
you untangle your hands from his in favor of pawing at his chest, nails digging into the cotton fabric of his shit and slightly biting into his skin. 
you’re slowly, yet surely losing your mind. the kiss deepens and all the coherent thoughts you had minutes prior are being pushed to the back as mingyu is on the forefront of your mind. you’re overcome with need for him. need for him to make you forget everything. need for him to fuck you till all you can think about him and the way his cock makes you feel.
and mingyu knows this, of course. he knows with the way you claw at him and how you whimper desperately as if you’ve been deprived from his touch for far too long. 
it’s why he doesn’t make you beg for it. instead he’s pulling away, watching you chase his lips while he breathlessly asks, “you sure you wanna do this, baby?” he looks so enamored with you. there’s no doubt you look like a complete mess right now, but it’s like he sees past it. past the tears, past the red eyes, past all the sadness. 
“please,” you whisper, sniffling again. 
he murmurs okay against your lips before grabbing your hand and guiding you to your shared room. 
he diligently strips you of your clothing, first your pants then your shirt. his fingers skillfully popping the buttons on your blouse and slipping it off your body, letting it fall into a pool on the ground. 
“so beautiful,” he whispers, massive hands immediately moving to grope your tits through your bra. “you’re so fucking beautiful, Y/N.” 
his words linger in the air and you feel them. you feel beautiful when he stares at you half naked in your cotton panties and mismatched bra. you feel beautiful with your puffy eyes and snotty nose. mingyu makes you feel so beautiful even in your most unfavorable moments. 
you whimper at his heavy hands, your own tugging at the ends of his shirt, wordlessly begging for the fabric to join the other clothes on the ground. he obliges immediately, practically ripping it off of himself before his hands are back on you. 
he pulls your bra down, letting your tits spill out, kneading at the flesh with hearts in his eyes. a breathy version of his name comes out of your mouth– 
and the sound makes his cock ache. his body yearns and begs to be inside of you. so much so that it has him swiftly unclasping your bra before gently pushing you onto the bed. he thinks it’s gentle, at least. mingyu tends to forget his strength so his gentle can be your rough. 
it doesn’t matter, it never has. every single act mingyu performs for you is one that comes from a place of love. he’s a benevolent man, not a single malicious bone lives in his hand-crafted body. 
“gyu,” you whisper, hand slipping in between your thighs to work on your clothed clit as he towers over you. at your own contact, you feel a shock run through your body and your back just slightly arches off the bed. “need you.”
he curses under his breath, suddenly unable to breathe in his loose house shorts. he hooks his fingers into the waistband, pulling them down and presenting his leaky, hard cock to you. 
and the sight has your entire body going hot. you throw your head back against the plush pillows and moan out his name, louder this time, fingers moving faster against your clit– though it would feel so much better if he finally put his hands on you. or better yet, his cock inside of you. 
“gyu,” you drag out his name in a cry and you finally feel the bed dip under his weight.
“i know, baby,” he whispers, hand moving yours away from your soaked panties in favor of replacing it. when his bigger fingers begin to rub circles into the covered bud, you gasp and let yours grasp at the sheets under you. “i know you need me. i’ve got you.” he reassures you, voice shaky as he notices just how wet you are. “gonna make you feel so good, don’t worry.”
but you don’t realize how sensitive you are because the second his hand slips inside your panties, his warm hand finding your heated cunt, fresh tears spring to your eyes. “oh, fuck,” you shudder, shaking underneath him. 
“you’re so wet,” he mutters the obvious, fingers dipping in between your folds to collect your slick before pulling his hand out. 
“don’t tease me,” you plead weakly.
he frowns, shaking his head, “i’m not– i won’t,” he tells you softly, rolling your panties off your body and down your legs. he tosses the cotton material over to join the other articles of clothing on the ground before his hands spread your legs open, displaying you for himself. “i told you that i got you, pretty girl, i promise.” 
you give him a broken nod, squirming in discomfort.
his hand is back on your pussy in no time, tapping at your drooling hole with two of his fingers. “this still okay?”
you nod again, “yes, gyu.”
he leans down, lips meeting yours as he presses into you with his index and middle fingers. he’s quick to swallow your moan as he stretches you open, feeling the way your gummy walls invite and welcome him in. 
your kiss is more fervent this time around. you can feel his need, the way he shoves his tongue into your mouth, messy and uncoordinated. it has you trapping his fingers between your wet walls, grinding with all your might against his hand. 
you have no clue how he manages to multi-task, both finger-fucking and kissing you into oblivion, but he does both without fail. you whine desperately against his lips, one of your hands coming to wrap around his wrist in hopes to support yourself. 
the wet squelching of your cunt fills the room and it has him pulling away from you for a second to groan out, “you hear that, angel? pretty pussy takin’ my fingers so fuckin’ well.”
you clench around him again, enveloping him as if your life depended on it– you feel so fucking good–
and yet you crave more. it feels good, yes, mingyu always has you seeing stars, but you need more. more of his fingers, more of him. and mingyu is probably well aware of the fact with the way your pussy swallows his fingers, but you know he’s reluctant about giving you too much because of… prior events.
you want that– you want too much. you want to forget about your shitty day. the only thing you want to think about, the only thing you want to be all-consumed by in this very moment, is mingyu. 
“m-more–” you whine against his lips as he wildly pushes in and out of your messy cunt. 
fingers unfaltering in speed, he pulls away from you breathlessly, lips wet and swollen. “more, baby?” 
“mhm,” you give him pleading eyes as you whisper, “wanna cum.”
“fuck,” he mumbles, nodding his head mindlessly as if your words put him into a daze. his fingers pull out and his ring finger joins the two that are already covered in your slick. they push into you slowly, effectively opening you up. “how’s this, beautiful? this enough?” 
you pant, clamping around the digits, squeezing them like a vice. “m-min-” you muffle your moan with your hand, more tears stinging in your eyes.
“no?” he asks, an endearing grin on his face. he maneuvers till he’s in between your legs, he moves further down the bed and your heart thumps erratically in your chest. 
it’s when his lips wrap around your clit while he concurrently thrusts his fingers into your sopping heat that you let out an ear-splitting moan. you lace your fingers into his silky hair and tug at his roots without a care. 
he winces and moans against you at the feeling, the pain making his cock throb against the bed. 
your mind escapes you, melting at the pleasure. his tongue flicks at the sensitive, swollen bud while his fingers curl against your sweet spot, pushing you closer and closer to the edge and you’re on the brink of pure ecstasy. 
“s-so close, fuck, i’m close, gyu.” you babble breathlessly. 
he moans again, tirelessly continuing his brutal attack on your pussy, but the sound waves of said moans shock your entirety and teeter right over the edge. your vision goes black for a solid minute, only a few specks of white in sight, your blinding orgasm taking your entire body over. 
you jerk under him, back arching as you release all over his fingers, the tightrope in your tummy completely unraveling and allowing you to soak his fingers in your syrupy arousal. his mouth moves down as he pulls out and slurps you up obnoxiously, eating you out as you cum.
and you can’t stop shaking, not even after he’s pulled his mouth and fingers away from you. your body twitches and writhes like he’s been working you for hours and mingyu, astounded, has never seen you like this– well, he definitely has– not after a single orgasm, at least.
he shudders, body burning with need. the taste of you alone has his brain a bit fuzzy. “are… you okay? was it too much?” he manages to ask, voice strained. 
mingyu thinks his question falls on deaf ears when all he hears is your heaving and tiny whimpers. he moves to clean you up, partially worried he overstimulated you, but then you make grabby hands at the large, flushed man.
he leans into your touch, allowing you to grab on to him, “what’s wrong?” 
when he looks into your eyes, glassy and glazed over, he notices the hint of need. the pinch of pure desperation. he sees the way you wordlessly ask for more of him, how you wordlessly ask for him to just fuck you already– he can’t deny you. not with the year-long day you’ve had or with the way his cock is basically begging to stuff you full. 
he pecks your lips and sits up again. a soft chuckle escapes him as you chase him for another kiss, but it quickly turns into a sharp breath when he looks down at your puffy, pulsing pussy. you’re crying for him, that much is obvious, but your pussy is just weeping. 
an endless trail of arousal continues to drool out of you and it’s so enticing… yet it feels so tantalizing… 
he feels a bit guilty for being this hard, for wanting to fuck you so bad. it’s in his good nature. you’ve told him countless times that it’s okay, that you need him, but he just wants to make sure. 
“are you sure?” he whispers, so soft that you could almost miss it. “we can just go to bed if you’re not up for this, Y/N.”
you can tell that mingyu is fighting inner turmoil. you know he always feels guilty for fucking you stupid. today, though, you’re sure he feels guilty for the other things. 
you don’t want him to. he shouldn’t feel guilty for something beyond his control, so you muster up all your strength and, in a wavered voice, tell him, “i want you… always want you.”
you hear his breath of relief and see the wobbly smile on his face and you mirror it. he’s quickly ridding his mind of the guilt and shame at your reassurance and lining himself up with your hole. he slides the tip of his cock between your lips and revels in the way you jolt gently. 
“deep breath f’me,” he mutters, knowing you’ll need it. when he hears your shaky inhale, he takes one of his own right as he pushes into you. “fuck,” he says breathlessly. you’re still so fucking tight around him.
a broken whine bubbles up in the back of your throat and mingyu watches the way your eyes screw shut and your jaw goes slack. beautiful, he thinks to himself. even when you’re fucked out of your mind.  
he finds the strength to push past the resistance, slowly shoving himself inside of you till his pelvis meets yours.
when he bottoms out, your face contorts and you’re spluttering over your words, “s-so big,” 
he nods his head like he knows. “i know, baby,” he murmurs, sliding one of his hands into yours. “but you’re so good for me, always take me so well.” he whispers this time as he’s leaning down, moving your intertwined hands next to your head on the pillow. his free hand cups your heated cheek and he studies you for a few minutes, cock fully sheathed inside of you. 
he watches your face change as you become accustomed to the size of him, how your contorted, pained face relaxes as the minutes pass. when your eyes flutter open and you whimper his name, “gyu…” he pulls out a tiny bit before pushing back in– something of an experimental thrust– and discerns your positive reaction. 
he repeats his actions, inching out a bit more and sliding back in with ease. his eyes observe you intently, noticing every reaction you make as he drives his cock in and out of you, each one going deeper than the last. 
his hand squeezes yours and his lips graze against yours, “feel good?” he asks, breath fanning over your face. 
“uh-huh, so good,” you respond in a pant. “th-thank you.”
he falters a bit, but continues to deliver his deep and calculated thrusts. “why are you thanking me, angel?”
“for taking care of me.” 
mingyu’s heart swells and nearly bursts right then and there. his smile practically reaches his ears because mingyu, admittedly, loves being the cause of your pleasure. he’s a giver. he always has been. 
it makes his hips move faster, his hips flushing to yours with every stroke. the bed squeaks under you, loud and annoyingly high-pitched. neither of you are bothered by the sound as you’re wrapped up within each other– you’re moaning and whining for more and more against his lips and he’s promising to deliver through deep groans and grunts against yours. 
and he does deliver. the tip of his cock kisses your cervix and it knocks the wind out of your lungs. you squeeze the hand in yours and your other comes to claw at his body. you dig your nails into the flesh of his arm, biting into him in favor of leaving crescent shapes on his smooth skin. 
he hisses, but the subtle sting just spurs him on. that and the way your pussy contracts around him.
“oh fuck,” you whisper, a high-pitched whine following the words. you’re so sensitive from your previous orgasm that it’s making all too much. your body is buzzing and the familiar knot is forming quicker than usual. “mingyu– mingyu, i-i’m so close.”
he nods, breathing out, “it’s okay, baby– cum for me. you deserve it.” you deserve everything you want, he fails to add. 
you don’t hold back, completely unraveling under him. you’re easily reduced to a mess, gushing all over his cock while you mewl a mantra of his name. your brain leaves you for a solid minute as you mindlessly babble out thank you’s and i love you’s. 
he pulls away from your lips as he watches you come undone. he’s truly so enraptured by you. with your tear-stained cheeks and the drool that trails past your bruised lips. when you tell him you love him– almost incoherently– his dick twitches in your spasming cunt. 
“i love you.” he groans, swiftly rocking into you. you’re sobbing in overstimulation, but he eases you with more praise. “you’re so good, fuck, so perfect. i love you so bad.”
his hand leaves your cheek, instead grabbing your free hand and intertwining your fingers. he pins your hands next to your head, just like the other, and continues fucking you. 
“my pretty girl,” he murmurs, holding your contrastingly smaller hands tightly. “i’m gonna cum inside… you want that right?”
the question triggers your mind back to life. “please,” you moan weakly. “n-need it.”
he twitches again, a throaty groan coming out of him before he gasps. his entire body stiffens before he presses himself all the way inside of you. his groans and grunts distort to needy moans as ropes of his seed paint the velvet walls of your convulsing heat. 
he attempts to control his breathing. after a minute straight of panting and whining, his heaving chest slows and falls into a steady rhythm. 
“are you okay?” he pants, pulling out of you, body still hovering over yours. “was it too much…”
your lips turn up into a tiny, sweet smile and nod your head, “‘m okay, baby.”
“good,” he whispers, leaning in and kissing your lips.
he releases you from his grasp and falls next to you, trying to recover more before cleaning you up. he sighs, soothing a hand over your skin and you scoot into him.
“i wanna help you,” mingyu starts with the softest voice you’ve ever heard after a few minutes of comfortable silence, “you can always tell me when you’re having one of these days, baby… you know that right?”
“i know,” you nod, mindlessly tracing shapes onto his bare chest. 
“i’m always gonna be here for you… as long as you’ll have me.”
“i know.” you repeat, words whispered this time. “you always make the days better– make them shine– you literally have a heart of gold, mingyu.” 
he chuckles, “i don’t,”
“no, you do. just trust me. if we cut you open right now for open heart surgery, there’d be 24 karat gold in the shape of a human heart inside of you.” you tell him.
mingyu smiles widely. happily. 
“just remember that this heart is all yours, angel.” 
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