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#How did I go this long without watching it
fyorina · 1 day
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ᡣ𐭩 HE'S THE SERPENTINE, HE'S MY COLLAR!
FEATURING: dazai osamu
SUMMARY: you're finally back in yokohama after spending four years abroad dealing with mori's foreign business. the last person you want is to see dazai osamu, the wounds of his abrupt betrayal still too fresh for comfort. unfortunately, he decides to take matters into his own hands by showing up at your office in the middle of the night.
(wordcount: 7.1k; ņsfw; fem!reader; port mafia executive!reader, f!receiving oral, gunplay, knife play (ish), spitting, pussy drunk!dazai (as always), light choking, overstim, office sex, semi-public/public sex, unprotected sex, switch!dazai, switch!reader, undertones of angst (happy ending). lmk if anything is missing!)
AUTHOR'S NOTES: guys. GUYS. i had so much fun writing this, this is finally usurping in paper rings and picture frames as my fav fic that i've written. HAHAHH. i hope you guys like it too!!
You hear the door to your office swing open, and you press your lips together tightly, irritation swimming through your head as your grip tightens on the pen you’re using to fill out your paperwork. It’s already late—you’re tired and your head hurts, but you can’t leave the building until Akutagawa comes to hand you the report for his failed mission so you can pass it up to the boss. And you know that whichever subordinate this is, it’s definitely not Akutagawa because the boy would rather claw his own throat out than walk into your office without knocking. 
Which means it’s some upstart new recruit who has no manners and is likely going to make your night worse. You think being away for so long did some real damage to your reputation—four years ago, the lower ranked mafiosos avoided your floor like the plague, they didn’t barge in like they owned the place, but then again, four years ago, you also had a certain dark-haired executive (ex-executive now, you remind yourself bitterly) lurking around your floor constantly trying to get your attention, and if people weren’t nervous enough about you, they were definitely terrified of him.
“Five seconds to explain why you came into my office without knocking or I’m putting a bullet through your fucking skull,” you say, voice acerbic, not even bothering to look up, the fingers of your free hand closing around the gun you have holstered at your side. 
“There’s a few too many cameras in the hall for my liking to stand out there and wait for you to open the door.”
The fact that he manages to dodge the bullet shot in his direction is testament to his skill, but you’ve known Dazai Osamu long enough to know that when he dodges to the side, nine times out of ten, he dodges left, so you drop your pen as soon as you pull the trigger and swipe the knife laying haphazardly on your desk, launching it in his direction. You watch as his eyes widen just a bit when it impales the wall right next to his ear, just barely nicking his skin—both a warning and a threat.
“My, my, bella, you’ve gotten faster the past few years,” Dazai grins, unperturbed, smile as reckless and lazy as the day he left four years ago as he plucks the knife from the wall. “I’ve missed you too.”
“What the hell are you doing here, Dazai?” you ask, voice cold and sharp as your finger rests against the trigger of your gun. “How did you get up here?”
“Security’s gotten lax since I’ve been gone, I guess,” Dazai shrugs, but his eyes dance with mirth as he makes his way over to your desk. “You should probably do something about that.”
“Dazai,” you say, keeping your voice low and trying to reign in your temper. There are no cameras in your office, but the hall leading here is littered with them, hidden ones that were recently installed that he wouldn’t know about, if any one of them caught his face and it’s reported to Mori… “You think I won’t drag your ass to Mori myself? What the fuck are you doing?”
You’d have to, or it would be your head on the line for betraying the Port Mafia—you know better than anyone the treatment that traitors get, considering you were the one that dealt with them up until you were sent abroad four years ago to handle Mori’s foreign politics. 
“I don’t know, will you?” Dazai counters, head tilted to the side as he takes a seat on top of your desk next to you, a smile on his face that makes you think he knows something that you don’t. It makes you a bit sick to your stomach—you’ve only been back in Yokohama for a few days and you feel as if you have yet to even adjust to Dazai’s defection from the Port Mafia because you were away for so long. Him showing up like this opens up wounds that are too fresh for comfort—it reminds you of the days that feel like yesterday when he would show up at your office to distract you from your work, pouting and throwing himself on your couch when you blow him off to finish up your reports. 
“Maybe,” you answer, finger twitching on the trigger as you keep your gun pointed in his direction. 
Dazai is completely unbothered, leaning down until his nose is nearly brushing yours, lips tugged up in an unbearable smirk. 
“Then do it,” he challenges, and you glare at him, jaw tight and eyes hard. He reaches out, fingertips brushing your skin, and you feel like you’re on fire beneath his touch. You hate that your body still betrays you to him. “Don’t look at me like that, bella. I won’t even resist, I promise, as long as you promise to be the one to put a bullet through my skull, so your face can be the last thing I see. Ah, that would be a lovely death, wouldn’t it?” 
“You’re a fucking freak, Dazai,” you spit out, but make no move to get up or grab your phone. “What is wrong with you?”
Dazai doesn’t respond, only winking at you. Instead, his gaze shifts to the side and his hand drops from your face to his lap again. You hate even more that you miss his touch immediately. 
“You still have my couch,” Dazai notes to himself quietly, an odd tone to his voice as he stares at the dark couch in the far corner of your office, where he’d bundle himself up under blankets to avoid Chuuya, because Chuuya used to avoid your office like the plague when the three of you were younger.
“It’s my couch,” you say tightly, even though you know no one has touched it since Dazai left, and the ugly orange blanket he liked so much is still draped over the back of it, and it probably still smells like him. Your throat feels swollen, and you steel away your emotions and continue with, “I haven’t been back here since you left, anyway. What do you want, Dazai?”
“I heard you were finally back in Yokohama,” he says. “I wanted to see you.”
“Fuck off,” you say roughly. “So you decide to break into the main base of the Port Mafia and come all the way up to my office? You know where my apartment is, you could’ve shown up there. What do you really want?” 
“It’s the truth,” Dazai says easily, and his dark eyes meet yours—both of them, you note, and wonder when he decided to shed the bandages that covered his right eye. “I was at your apartment for a bit, I got impatient and came here instead.”
He’s telling the truth.
Oh, you realize—the clogged feeling in your throat is coming back, you force it away again and lean back in your chair, looking away from him to turn your gaze to the window. It’s well past midnight already, the moon is high in the sky and the stars are glittering above. In the distance, you can see the Ferris wheel of Cosmo World glowing a bright purple color and a string of flashing red and blue lights as the police chase after someone.
“Why?” you ask finally, breaking the heavy silence that had settled over the two of you. 
“I told you,” Dazai says quietly, and your eyes turn back to him. He looks… happier, you can’t help but note. A sick part of you feels jealous—you’re not sure if you’re jealous because he’s free and you’re still stuck in this place, or if you’re jealous because he’s happier and he’s happier in a life without you. You think it might be the latter. “I miss you.”
“Don’t give me bullshit, Dazai,” you snap, still trying to push away all of the feelings you’ve repressed for so long. “Get out of here before you find yourself killed. I’m not going to turn you in, but I’m not saving you if you get caught.”
“It’s not bullshit,” Dazai tells you, voice sharp in a way that it only ever is when he’s starting to get annoyed. “I-”
A knock at your door cuts Dazai off mid-sentence. Both of you freeze, Dazai looks at you as if waiting to see what you’re going to do, and you can so easily finish this now, let whoever is at your door in and drag Dazai back down to the torture room where he belongs, but instead you find yourself reaching for him. Your hand intertwines with his hair roughly, and you revel a bit in the hiss that escapes his lips as you yank him off the desk and roll your chair backward, kicking the back of his knee so that he crumples to the ground and you can push him beneath your desk. 
You lower your gun to your lap so you can keep it pointed at him and then glance down at him—he looks caught off-guard and disgruntled at being manhandled, but you think it's a bit funny how cramped he looks under there. 
“Not a single word,” you warn before fixing your chair and raising your voice. “Come in.”
Akutagawa wastes no time stepping into your office, nodding his head in respect as he makes his way over to the chair on the opposite side of your desk, a bundle of papers in hand. He doesn’t hand you the pile right away and he looks uncharacteristically nervous, and you raise your eyebrows, wondering what the issue is. 
“I am… unsure how to fill out some of the report,” Akutagawa says, unable to meet your eyes as he stares at the windows behind you. “The operation was… not a failure but not a success. The whole mission was in disarray, I do not know who was doing what at certain points.”
You stare at Akutagawa. “What do you want me to say to that?” you ask him, leaning back in your chair. “It’s your job to know that as the field officer for the mission. If you can’t handle that, Hirotsu will take back the position on the next major operation.”
Akutagawa bristles. “I can handle it,” he says, voice clipped. “This mission was just more chaotic than-”
“Than usual?” you ask idly, watching as he stiffens as your interruption. “This was child’s play, it’s unlike you to make excuses, Akutagawa.’
“I’m not making excuses,” he says immediately, “but…”
Akutagawa continues talking, but your attention is ripped away when you feel Dazai shift beneath the desk. You press your lips together tightly, stiffening as his hands rise to your thighs, spreading them a bit so he can settle between them. You glance down, he’s already peeking up at you, dark eyes glittering in a way that has you on edge. 
Don’t you dare, you warn silently, but Dazai only takes it as further encouragement, pressing his lips to your clothed inner thigh, you can feel the warmth and wetness through your slacks. It takes all of your self-control to not inhale sharply when he starts trailing open-mouthed kisses up your thigh until his mouth is hovering right above your cunt. 
You press the muzzle of your gun against his temple. 
He smiles. 
Your jaw clenches as he licks a long stripe between your legs through your slacks, making sure to press his tongue down hard over where your clit is hidden through your clothes. Akutagawa is still talking, oblivious to what’s happening beneath your desk as he airs his complaints about the mission. You could stop Dazai, place your foot on his shoulder and push him off of you, but you don’t, notably—you don’t want to acknowledge that though. You only vaguely hear Akutagawa’s issues, something about interference from a third party—the SDUP? What the hell were they doing there?— and Kajii blowing up an escape route. 
“Give me the report,” you say, cutting him off mid-sentence, and holding out your hand. You’re grateful that your voice comes out steadier than you feel with Dazai trying to tongue fuck your through your pants. 
As you lean forward to rip the papers from Akutagawa, you tense, feeling something sharp press against your inner thigh. Sitting back in your seat and glancing down, your eyes cut down to Dazai, who still has the knife you’d thrown at him and is using it to cut open your very expensive slacks.
You have half a mind to drive your foot into his face, but you refrain. If only barely.
It’s a miracle that you can keep your breath steady, because as Dazai cuts your pants, he kisses every inch of open skin that’s revealed to him. His lips are warm, wet, familiar—so familiar that your legs are instinctively spreading for him, giving him more room to work.
Your eyes scan the report but the words are just jumbled letters and not making any sense. Every time you try to understand, you feel Dazai’s teeth graze your thigh as he marks up your skin. You tense when you feel him bring the knife much closer to your cunt, to finish cutting off the material—you press the muzzle of your gun harder into the side of his head, warning him to be careful. You glance down only to see a hazy smile on his lips as he winks up at you, as if he’s drunk just off of the idea of what’s about to happen.
He works efficiently as always, freeing your lower body of your slacks and panties as quickly as possible, and he wastes no time burying his face between your legs. Your lashes flutter and the grip you have on your pen tightens dangerously, you think it might snap. Dazai’s tongue slides between your folds, lapping up the slick that had begun to pool—you know that if Akutagawa wasn’t sitting a few feet away, Dazai would be making a snide comment about how he knew you wanted him.
Dazai’s tongue flicks over your clit—you can feel him staring up at you, watching for every little reaction, the way your lip tightens as you bite back moans, the way your eyelids unconsciously start to slide shut, the way your breath is just a bit heavier than it usually is. 
This is so dangerous, you think to yourself desperately. If Akutagawa of all people figures out that Dazai is here-
You nearly choke when Dazai shifts a bit underneath the desk to kneel at a better angle, grateful that Akutagawa seems to be too busy wallowing in his own mistakes to notice your struggle. Your gaze  snaps down again, his eyes have fluttered shut as he buries his face deep into your cunt, nose pressed to your clit as he pushes his tongue into your hole and you can feel the way he lets out a silent, but shaky breath, barely holding back a moan.
You notice his free hand slide from where it was propped on your thigh down to his beige pants, fingers fumbling with the button as he desperately tries to slip his hand beneath his waistband to touch himself. You kick his wrist hard, using your foot to pin it against the side of your desk, watching him wince and withdraw his hand, looking up at you with those big brown eyes you can never say no to. 
God, he’s pathetic, his lashes are wet and his cheeks are flushed, eyes glossed over with pleasure as he looks up at you and you know you’ll let go of his wrist if he looks at you like that any longer, so you turn your gaze back up to Akutagawa, who’s staring at his lap and waiting for you to finish the report.
“Get out,” you tell him, voice sharper than you intended. Akutagawa’s eyes snap up to you, brows furrowed in confusion. “Go, I’ll handle this.”
“But-”
“Your job is to take orders, not question them,” you bite out, watching frustration flash across the boy’s face as he rises to his feet. You’re not usually this harsh with the kid, but you’re not sure how much longer you’re going to last and Akutagawa cannot be in here when you cum. You can feel the heat pooling in your stomach and that familiar hazy feeling clouding your mind. “Out, Akutagawa.”
Akutagawa inhales sharply but nods, turning stiffly on his heel to leave your office. As soon as the door to your office clicks shut, Dazai is pushing the chair backwards until the back of it hits the windows behind you, shifting into a more comfortable position as he resumes fucking you with his tongue in earnest. 
He moans into you, wanton and shameless, any restraint he had because of Akutagawa’s presence is long gone. While he was careful to not make noise before, now the sloppy sound of his tongue dragging in and out of your cunt drowns out any other noise in your office, he sucks and slurps, he’s so disgusting, like he can’t get enough of the taste of you, a man who’s been starved for years.
The knife clatters to the ground as he reaches up with both hands to grab your thighs, sliding them over his shoulders so he can push his tongue even deeper inside of you. Only sheer pride drives you to push away the creeping fog as Dazai’s tongue slides back up between your folds to draw figure eights around your clit.
“I should pull the fucking trigger, pulling this shit when he was in here,” you spit out, head falling back as a breathy noise escapes your parted lips when Dazai sucks gently at your clit. He moans again, as if the idea itself turns him on—it probably does, he’s always talked about wanting to die between your thighs. “You’re a fucking freak, Dazai.” 
He lets out a puff of air, you can’t tell if it's a laugh or another moan, maybe a mixture of both, but he’s too focused on drowning in your cunt to respond. Four years without him and you’ve forgotten just how good Dazai is with his tongue, working your body as easily as he did when the two of you were eighteen and seeking each other out before meetings and between missions for a quick fuck. You hate it—you hate that he’s treating you as if nothing has changed and you hate even more that your body is this responsive to him. 
Betrayal, you think, your own body betrays you for him. Again.
“Fuck,” you gasp the word out when Dazai rolls your clit between his teeth gently, sending a jolt through your body that throws you off just enough for that fog you’ve been fighting off to finally win. You choke over a moan, head pressed back against your desk chair, forearm coming up to press against your forehead as your eyes slide shut. Your free hand finally finds its place in his hair, tightening around his dark locks, he lets out a whimper against you, tongue flicking over your clit. “Like that. Just like that.”
You can hardly keep your head on straight as he traces letters around the sensitive bud, you try to figure out what he’s spelling but you’re too far gone. Your head is light and your chest is heaving. You’re barely able to bite back moans as your thighs tighten around his head, hips rocking against his face. You don’t even know if he can breathe, you don’t think you care, so close to the edge that your entire body is tingling and trembling; you don’t think he cares either from the way he’s moaning into you.
It takes one last suck, one last swirl around your clit, and you’re crying out his name, spots dotting your vision as your grip on his hair tightens, pushing his face impossibly deeper into you as you grind your hips against his face. God, it feels never-ending, a noise too close to a sob nearly escapes your lips as Dazai ardently laps up all of your cum, not letting a single drop go to waste. You can’t remember the last time you’ve cum this hard—with him, probably, you realize bitterly. None of the one-night stands you’ve had over the past few years have ever compared to him.
You’re still reeling even as you force yourself to straighten in your seat, not willing to let him know just how badly you’re thrown off by how intense your orgasm was. Your head is still spinning, vision still blurring, but you lift your leg and press your foot to Dazai’s shoulder, kicking him back and forcing him out from his position between your thighs. 
He grunts, looking thoroughly disgruntled as he falls back on his ass, pouting up at you as he tries to catch his breath. He looks debauched, lips swollen and wet, your cum smeared on the lower half of his face. His cock is straining against his beige pants and his eyes are still glazed over; he’s looking up at you with an expression that’s nothing short of reverent. 
God, he’s gorgeous. 
You hate him. 
You’ve missed him. 
You shift in your seat and Dazai is lifting himself to his knees, immediately leaning closer, a hazy smile on his lips as he angles his face up and pointedly parts his lips, sticking his tongue out. You know what he wants and the heat that had been slowly dissipating returns with a vengeance, breath catching as you look down at him.
“You’re gross,” you tell him, watching the corner of his lips quirk up even as he keeps his tongue out and waiting.
You don’t deny him. You never can. 
You shift forward, rising to your feet and reaching out to grab his chin, angling your face down. Your grip is too tight, it’ll leave bruises behind and you think that’s the least he deserves so you only tighten it a bit more as you lean over him. You don’t give him what he wants, not right away, letting the saliva gather on your tongue as you observe him, the way his pupils are blown wide and his chest is hardly rising and falling, as if he can’t even let himself breathe in anticipation.
Disgusting, you think again, but it’s fond this time, much to your displeasure.
You decide to put him out of his misery, letting the spit dribble from your mouth down to his. His eyes roll back as soon as it hits his tongue, and your hand slides from his chin to curl around his neck—not tight, just firm enough to feel the way his throat bobs as he swallows.
He lets out a shaky breath, eyes fluttering back open as he looks up at you, entirely blissed out. Your hand slides down more, curling around the ugly bolo tie he’s wearing in place of the black one you’re used to. You tug it hard, beckoning him to his feet; he acquiesces, albeit on shaky legs. 
Immediately, his hands find your hips as he pushes you against your desk, spinning you around to face it before his hand presses between your shoulder blades, pushing you down to bend you over it. Your eyes widen at the sudden change in demeanor, something you’ll never be able to get used to no matter how many times you fuck him; it always caught you off guard back then, it still catches you off guard now. He pulls off the remnants of your destroyed slacks and immediately is grinding his bulge against your ass, a low moan spilling from his lips. 
“How many people have you been with?” he suddenly asks, and you can hear him fumbling to unbutton his own pants. There’s an edge to his voice that you don’t like—something caught between jealousy and possessiveness, and you nearly want to scoff at it.
“What the fuck, Dazai?” you spit out, appalled and not expecting the question. “None of your damn business.” 
You turn your head to the side to rest your cheek on the desk, looking back at him from the corner of your eye. His eyes are still a bit hazy but there’s a tight expression on his face, reminiscent of the one that would be directed toward you whenever he stumbled in on you entertaining anyone other than him years ago. 
“Humor me,” he says, voice cold and eerily familiar. If you weren’t looking at him and if you couldn’t see the tan coat and bolo tie, you’d think you were talking to Dazai Osamu, Port Mafia Executive, and not Dazai Osamu, Detective. 
“A lot,” you finally tell him, feeling the way he stiffens behind you. “I don’t keep count. You?” 
You think he has some nerve asking when he’s probably slept around t-
“None.”
“Bullshit,” you snarl immediately. “How many? Don’t fucking lie to me, Dazai.”
“None,” he says again, gaze lifting from your back to meet yours, his eyes are dark—too dark, too still. Maybe he hasn’t changed as much as you assumed, because the way your chest swells with a confusing mixture of fear and arousal is far too familiar. “You’re the only one allowed to touch me.”
His gaze drags back down, with his pants unbuttoned, he lifts his free hand to caress the swell of your ass, a contemplative expression on his face as he stares down at you, his other hand still pinning you down to your desk. If your heart wasn’t thudding in your ears from sheer anticipation, you’d be irate over the fact that you were letting Dazai Osamu fuck you over your own desk in your own office, but you can’t bring yourself to care now.
“They never made you feel like this.” It’s a statement, not a question, and you want to scoff at his arrogance, but you can’t because he’s right. “They don’t know your body like I do.”
This time you do scoff. “You don’t know shit, Dazai. It’s been four years.”
Dazai’s eyes flicker back up to you, the way his lips curve up into a smile is dangerous.
“No?” he questions. 
A challenge. You never back down from one, not from him. 
“No.”
His smile sharpens.
“I know that after you cum for the first time,” he murmurs, rolling his hips forward. You bite back a moan when you feel the tip of his cock slip between your folds. “The second time comes right after.”
True to his words, your jaw falls slack and your entire body seizes as Dazai thrusts into you, splitting you right open on his cock. The moan he lets out is pornographic, and you wish you could see the way his head falls back and his eyes roll into his skull, but your own vision is white and you’re choking over a sob as you feel the familiar stretch of his cock against your walls.
“There you are.” Dazai has the nerve to let out a breathless laugh and another groan as he stills with his hips flush to your ass, feeling your walls spasm around him as you cum just from the feeling of him pushing inside of you. The hand he has placed between your shoulder blades slides up to curl around your throat. With a firm grip, he pulls you up so only your thighs are pressed against the edge of your desk, back flush to his chest as you gasp, reeling from the suddenness of your second orgasm. You can feel him smile as he nudges his nose against the side of your head, lips pressed to your ear. “The third time takes a bit after the second, but I’ll fuck you through it. Maybe a fourth too.”
“Dazai,” you gasp, eyes blown wide as your head falls back against his shoulder. You don’t know what you’re trying to say, maybe hold on, or wait, because you know you’ll embarrass yourself if he doesn’t give you a second to recover.
He hums in response, and the slow rolls of his hips, the drag of his cock against your walls, it has your head in the clouds, body trembling. Your lips part to speak but no words leave them, and right when you think you can finally force the words out, Dazai draws his hips back and snaps them back against yours hard. Your lips part in a silent moan, only the hand around your throat and the one pressed to your lower belly holds you up as Dazai fucks you at a brutal pace. 
His face drops to the crook of your neck, he moans into your skin, teeth scraping hard as he kisses recklessly up and down every available inch. He’s going to leave marks, you realize, and that’s dangerous now that you’re back in Yokohama because you don’t need any of the other executives to get suspicious, but even if you wanted to tell him not to, you don’t think you’d be able to. Whatever little coherency you had left in your thought process does not translate when you try to speak, the only things leaving your lips being shaky moans and gasps of Dazai’s name.
“Made for me,” Dazai groans. His grip on your throat tightens just enough to make the air you breathe in shallow, your head feels light and you’re not sure if it’s because of his grip or if it’s the feeling of his cock bullying so deep into you that you can feel his tip pressing up against your cervix. “Waited so many years for this, feels even better than I remember, pussy’s made for me, isn’t it?”
Dazai babbles into your ear as he fucks you, tongue just as filthy and unbridled as the day he left. Shameless. He’s so shameless. Doesn’t even care that anyone could walk into your office and catch the two of you; doesn’t care that if anyone does, he’ll end up executed. He’s fucking you in a building full of people that want him dead and all he cares about is how your cunt feels wrapped around his cock.
Your breath hitches as Dazai shifts you to bend over just a little more, still keeping your back flush to his chest but fucking you at a new angle—one that nearly sends you spiraling over the edge for a third time. 
“Gonna give me your third now?” he pants. His hand on your lower stomach slips down, lithe fingers dipping between your folds to search for your clit—your back arches against him when he finds it, a sob spilling from your lips, vision swimming with tears. Dazai laughs again, this one is strained, catching over a moan as your walls convulse around him. “Oh, fuck. Fuck, you’re so tight.” 
Unconsciously, his grip on your throat tightens, cutting off even more air. You can hardly breathe, you can hardly think—each thrust of his hips has your head spinning, ripping the little air you can inhale right out of your lungs. The tip of his cock rubs against that spongy spot inside of you every time he snaps his hips against yours, the quick circles he rubs on your clit are electrifying. 
Your cheeks are wet, breath ragged, vision spotty. One last thrust, one last circle, and you’re wrecked, sobbing out his name as your legs give out, only held up by the way he has your thighs pinned to your desk and his hand on your neck. You cum all over his cock so hard that you think you black out for a second, your mind fuzzy and pins and needles pricking all over your body.
Dazai doesn’t stop. He fucks you through your third orgasm, relishing in the way your body twitches and trembles, too sensitive for his touch. 
“Your fourth will come quick,” he gasps. His pace is erratic now, chasing his own release. Your ears are ringing, heartbeat thudding in your ears, the wet, sloppy sound of his cock driving in and out of you resounding through your office. “I don’t think I’ll last for five. Shit, shit, I’m close.”
You have to force yourself to move. You want to see him when he finishes. Your hand wraps around his wrist, nails digging into his skin to try to get his attention. It takes all of your will power to push the two words from your lips: “Flip me.”
He does. Without any sort of hesitation, his hand drops from your throat to your waist. His cock slips out of you for a split second and your cunt aches at the loss, but Dazai is immediately pushing himself back into you as he hoists you up by the thighs, sitting you down on your desk and wrapping your legs around his waist. 
Even through your blurry vision, Dazai is a fucking sight. His dark hair is matted to his forehead, pink lips swollen and wet, cheeks flushed. His eyes glazed over and half rolled back as he chases his high. God, he’s stunning. You’ve missed him. You’ve missed him.
You’re not thinking as you lift your hand to cup his cheek, sliding around to the back of his head to pull his face down to yours, moving on pure instinct. You drag him down to press your lips against his and Dazai is gone. The moment your lips touch his, he’s moaning into your mouth, hips stuttering against you as he spills his cum deep inside of you, and he’s right, because the moment you feel his cum filling you up, warm and thick, so much of it that you can feel it dribbling around his cock, the stickiness smearing against your thighs and ruining your desk, you’re pushed over the edge for the fourth time.
This one is weaker than the rest, not a single noise escapes you but your jaw goes slack and Dazai whimpers into your mouth when he feels your walls tightening around him again. But he takes advantage of your pliancy, pushing you back gently so that your back is flush to your desk. He follows you down, keeping his chest pressed to yours as he maps out your mouth with his tongue. He rolls his hips against yours, slow and deep, fucking his cum deeper into you as the two of you slowly come down from your highs. He slants his lips against yours to deepen the kiss, hand coming up to cup your cheek, his other sliding up and down one of your thighs. 
It’s too intimate. You tell yourself that you only let it happen because you’re reeling from overstimulation but you know it's a lie.
You don’t even know how long you stay in that position with him. It could only be a few seconds, a few minutes, it could’ve been an hour for all you know, laying on your desk with him pressed on top of you, kissing you so passionately that it makes your head spin as much as the orgasms did. 
Finally, you press your hand against his shoulder, signaling for him to get off of you. He does, albeit with a reluctant sigh. You stare up at the ceiling as Dazai shakily rebuttons his pants, making his way over to the closet where you still keep your spare clothes from when you have to stay over at the office to work. 
What did you do?
You’re hyper aware of how swollen your lips are, of the marks littering your neck, of the cum dribbling out of your cunt, staining your desk. 
If anyone finds out about this-
You don’t get to finish the thought, because Dazai comes back over to you. Neither of you speak as he takes a tissue to clean up his cum from your thighs and as it dribbles out of you, nor do you speak when he shifts you into a sitting position, helping you pull on a new pair of panties and a new pair of slacks.
He stands in front of you, dozens of indecipherable emotions rocketing across his face as his dark eyes search your expression for something. You don’t know what, and you don’t even want to look at him but you can’t draw your gaze away from him.
After what feels like forever, he finally speaks.
“I missed you,” he says, voice hoarse as he lifts a hand to cup your cheek. 
You turn away from his touch, ignoring the hurt that flashes through his eyes. 
“Why don’t you believe me? You think four years has changed how I feel about you? I thought you knew me better than that.”
“It’s been four years,” you say, and you hate that your voice wavers a bit. You blame it on still being hazy after your orgasm but you know it’s a weak excuse. You hate that he still has this effect on you after all these years. You hate that you always give into him, and you hate that you know you’ll never get enough of him. You want to hate him, but you can’t. “Knowing how to fuck me isn’t the same as knowing me as a person. I barely know you anymore. You barely know me. And it’s not like you were open with how you felt four years ago. So, forgive me if it’s a bit hard to believe, Dazai.”
“You wear the same perfume. You still shoot with your non-dominant hand for some god forsaken reason. Your lips still twitch whenever you get annoyed even though you do your best to stop it. You-”
“Stop.”
“You still talk to me like you hate me even though your eyes are all soft and you’re leaning in toward me.” Dazai doesn’t stop, and to your horror, he’s right—you had begun to lean in to him instinctively as he spoke. You try to shift away from him, but he follows, fingers grazing your cheek, chest brushing yours. You don’t pull away this time. “I still wear the same cologne you bought me for my sixteenth birthday because it reminds me of you—I spent two months trying to figure out where you bought it when it first ran out. I don’t carry a gun around as often, but when I do, I still try to do that stupid flipping trick you tried to teach me when we were seventeen—I still can’t do it, almost shot myself in the knee last time I tried.”
The laugh he lets out at the last sentence is hollow. He hesitates, as if he wants to continue but isn’t sure if he should. You can feel his blunt nails scraping gently against your skin, his palm warm against your cheek. You want to pull away but you’ve missed him, no matter how much you try to convince yourself otherwise, and you find yourself sinking into his touch. You’ve always questioned why Mori sent you away for so long, angry because you figured he thought you were weak when it comes to Dazai and he didn’t want to risk anything. 
Only a few days back in Yokohama, and you’re already proving him right.
“I’m not the same person,” you tell him, something desperate edges at your tone. Desperate to convince him, or yourself, you’re not sure.
“I still love you,” he rasps, voice quiet as if he’s scared to admit it even to himself, and your heart is suddenly lodged in your throat as you stare up at him with wide eyes, the words he refused to tell you back when you were teens ringing through your head over and over again. “I’ve always loved you. Thought about you every day. I missed you so much.”
“I should hate you,” you say, swallowing thickly, unshed tears blurring your vision. “You didn’t even say goodbye. When Mori said you defected in the middle of a mission, I laughed in his face. Not because I didn’t think you’d never betray the Port Mafia, but because I didn’t think you’d ever leave me without saying anything.”
“If I said goodbye to you, I never would have left,” Dazai tells you quietly, the admission echoing in your years. “And I had to leave. I had to.”
“I should hate you,” you repeat, voice a bit weaker now, and you feel pathetic for falling apart like this in front of him. But it’s Dazai, he’s always had this effect over you. You suppose some things haven’t changed, because that certainly hasn’t. 
“I know,” he murmurs. 
You inhale deeply, shaking your head as you push yourself off your desk and straighten out your clothes, trying to get your head back on straight. You should’ve known better than to think you’d be able to come back to Yokohama and pretend that Dazai Osamu didn’t exist, for better or for worse, the two of you would always find your way back to each other. Mori was right to send you away, although you suppose the man is rarely wrong anyway.
Dazai doesn’t say anything, watching you with an unreadable expression as you search through the ruined piles of paper on your desk for the report that Akutagawa had handed you. Your eye twitches when you realize that it’s stained, realizing that you’re going to have to rewrite the whole thing because you can’t submit a cum-stained report to Mori.
Dazai snorts behind you, as if realizing your predicament. The look you give him is lethal, he silences himself quickly. 
“Don’t get yourself killed on the way out,” you tell him, grabbing your black jacket off your chair and swinging it over your shoulders as you look back at him. “If you make it out of here alive, I’ll see you at my apartment later. Then we can talk.”
His face twists. “What? Wait, don’t leave me here,” he panics, nearly tripping over his feet and your desk chair to follow after you. “Help me sneak out.”
“You got in here yourself,” you say dismissively. “Get out yourself.”
The noise he lets out is pathetic. “You do hate me,” he accuses. 
“No, I could never,” you admit quietly. His expression softens a bit, but you give him a sharp smile. “But I’m definitely not going to make things easy for you. Akutagawa is still out here prowling around. So is Chuuya, actually. Said he’d be at the office all night today. Good luck, you’re gonna need it.”
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mrs-weasley-reid · 2 days
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Regrets Sting
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Spencer Reid x bau!reader
Summary: You have always been there for Spencer. Turns out, he's never going to be there for you.
Warning: Angst.
A/N: one of my many drafts... enjoy 👀?
— ✿ — ✿— ✿ ✿ ✿
You love Dr. Spencer Reid.
As a colleague, a friend, and, well, a respected man.
Granted, you spent most of your days with a small herd of profilers, but you were great at hiding your feelings for him, if you do say so yourself.
You watched him smile awkwardly with love from one woman to the other. Then, there was Maeve. He was in love with her. You didn't need your profiling skills to lead to that conclusion.
It broke your heart when you heard Spencer's plea. It broke your heart when he couldn't even function properly. And your heart broke for him as you watched him fall on his knees, crying over Maeve.
So you chose friendship. You always have, after all.
You became his anchor. His support. His best friend.
You were there for him. You were there when he was ready to open up. You lent him your shoulder. You became his personal napkin, soaking up all his tears in the hopes that it would lessen the pain, even just a little bit. You kept him company, dragging him out of his apartment to bring him anywhere besides the gloom in his empty home.
And without him, or you, knowing, you gave him your heart. You were in love with Dr. Spencer Reid.
It made you feel guilty, but it was inevitable. Who would've known you could fall deeper than you already were? Not even you, apparently.
And yet, you remained the person he could cry on for two years. You pawned him a shoulder for a long, drawn-out two years. Shoving your feelings in the back of your mind as if it wasn't anything important to you.
The deeper you fell for him, the faster the team caught up with your feelings.
JJ figured it out first when she saw the ends of your hair as you walked in Spencer's apartment the first year of Maeve's death. Spencer had been unresponsive to everyone, but not to you. You managed to get him to open his door just by the sound of your footsteps. She knew, then, that he was in good hands.
Emily and Derek noticed how you felt at the same time. You were all on a case, and an officer who awfully looked a lot like Maeve emerged. You were protective of Spencer, knew exactly what his reaction would be. So you had everything he needed and offered to work with him before Hotch could even mention it. Of course, along that was Penelope getting a confirmation about your feelings for Spencer.
Rossi always knew. He always saw the way you would giggle silently to yourself whenever Spencer sassed his statistics into them. One time, he saw you clean Spencer's desk before everyone arrived. And he suspected that you did so a while back before he caught you.
Hotch? He noticed, but he said nothing unless you verbally told him. He thought you weren't ready to openly admit your feelings to the team yet, so who was he to mention it?
And so it goes...
Emily would grin whenever Spencer gave you coffee every morning. Derek would wiggle his eyebrows whenever he caught your gaze on Spencer, then gossip about it with Penelope, which led to her teasing you 'til sundown. Rossi, at times, tried to ease your feelings when they surfaced. Your solid companion whenever you felt down. And Hotch was ever a menace, stern face or not. He would partner you and Spencer up, specifically on the days when your feelings for the genius were oddly stronger.
So, you could only imagine the heartbreak when Spencer arrived one morning with the wrong order of your coffee and a wide smile as he told you that he was going out on a date.
You immediately showed your protest. Of course, Spencer wasn't happy about it. What was worse was he didn't know why. And worse than that was you couldn't tell him why.
Or so you thought.
"I don't understand why you're making a big deal out of this," Spencer followed you as you walked around the bullpen.
"You just met this woman, Spence. I think it's safe to say, I'm worried. You don't even know whether this person is safe." You lied. You had to. He didn't need to know you didn't want him to go on a date because it would break you.
Spencer crossed his arms, knitting his eyebrows as he felt offended by your words. "I'm a profiler and have 187 IQ. I can take care of myself." He stated, earning a couple of stares from the other agents.
You mirrored his actions, "Really?" You challenged, nodding in his direction, specifically to his tie. "You can't even tie the same tie you've been wearing for years properly. Looks like you haven't done laundry too, because, as far as I can remember, you've been wearing that same vest for the past three days. Are you going to wear that on your date?" You raised a brow.
Emily's eyes blew wide, pursing her lips to eat her laughter in. She looked away in hopes that the urge to burst into fits of laughter would subside. Unfortunately, Derek was doing the same thing, and they both snorted at the same time.
"Obviously, I'm not going to wear this on the date. This is clearly not about how homeless I look like. Just be honest with me and tell me why you're so against me being happy." Spencer's voice climbed an octave higher. He was frustrated and confused, and you both knew how much he hated both.
You closed your eyes and sighed deeply. You really had no other choice, do you? You turned around to face Spencer, "I'm in love with you." You confessed, hoarding the entire bullpen's attention.
Spencer chuckled, shaking his head, "Right, nice joke."
"I'm not joking." It offended you a bit. How much he compared your confession to a silly joke.
Spencer's face darkened. He uncrossed his arms and dipped his hands inside his pockets. His next words broke your heart, "I'm very disappointed in you."
Your eyes widened. Your mouth fell open as you heard your heart break into pieces, so loud you couldn't get a sense of what more he was saying.
"I came to you for two years to mend. You became my best friend because I thought I could trust you. And now, you're in love with me? Did you help me just so you could gain my affection?"
It stung. The silence that fogged the bullpen was deafening. Emily wanted to claw Spencer's eyes, but JJ was fast to hold her back.
Derek began to move beside you, "Reid, don't—"
Your manic laugh cut him off.
Spencer's eyebrows narrowed, "What?" His voice was far from the gentle one you were used to.
"You know what, Reid?" You scoffed, running your tongue on your lower lip to control your anger. "You're right. I was there for you. I was there to lend you a shoulder to cry on. I was there to keep you company. I made you smile. I even made you laugh! And sure, you're very disappointed in me because, god forbid, I fell for the genius prodigy. With the 187 IQ you're boasting, imagine my disappointment when you can't even figure out that I have feelings for you."
The bullpen fell silently dead as you stared at Spencer with such hatred it made his stomach climb on his throat. He has never seen you so... disgusted.
You couldn't take it. You couldn't look at him in the eyes anymore. You felt like you were going to throw up the longer you stood in the center of it all.
His words insulted you. And it hurt like a bitch.
There were many possibilities on how Spencer could've responded to your feelings, but this was beyond your limit.
You bit your lower lip, hesitant yet eager to spill the next words that came out of your mouth. "For the record, I regret falling in love with you." And with that, you left.
An offer from another unit had been sitting in your inbox. And despite having no plan to leave such a beautiful family of colleagues, you filled out the transfer form. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you knew that you needed an out sooner or later. And Spencer's insensitive reaction was just the right motivation you needed.
The Monday after your outburst became the BAU team's worst nightmare.
Spencer immediately noticed your absence. He knew. Of course, he did. You were always the first person to greet him as you spun around in your seat. It was rare for you to be late.
You haven't contacted him for days, either. And he didn't have the guts to do it first. He has been drowning in guilt and couldn't figure out how he'd make it up to you. He realized how unfair he was to you, albeit too late.
Everyone arrived one by one, and there was still no sign of you until Hotch cleared his throat, "Let's start."
Penelope stumbled, hesitating at the sight of your empty seat. "What about..." She softly muttered and yet loud enough for everyone to hear.
"Agent..." Hotch sighed as he spoke your name. He still remembered how you went back to his office while everyone was out for their lunch break and submitted your transfer request. "She officially transferred to unit 4, violent criminal apprehension program... today," Hotch announced, much to his dismay.
Derek's eyebrows knitted, glancing outside the window of the conference room to your desk. "Are you kidding? Her stuff is still here."
Hotch took a deep breath, glancing at Spencer for a moment. "She said they were unnecessary items." He cleared his throat and gestured for Penelope to continue what she was doing.
Regrets stung Spencer like a thousand bees.
Most of the things that clattered on your desk were things that you both shared. His pens that you never gave back. Post-it notes he left for you that had no importance, but you kept them up on the wall of your cubicle. A photo booth picture of the two of you from one of Rossi's Christmas parties. The small bookshelf on top of your desk overflowing with Spencer's annotated books.
"But she didn't even tell us. She didn't say goodbye." Penelope exclaimed. Her eyes matched the frown on her lips. She couldn't help but talk about you. After all, they were your family for many years.
"Could you blame her though?" Emily scoffed, giving Spencer a glare.
Spencer messed up. Big time. And he has no idea how he would make it up to you.
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vanteguccir · 1 day
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Quality time | Matt Sturniolo
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Matt Sturniolo x reader
Summary: Where Matt skips Tara Yummy's 1M party to have quality time with his girlfriend.
Warning: None.
Requested?: Yes, by anon.
Author's note: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.
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Matt's car glided through the moonlit streets of Los Angeles as he headed toward Y/N's apartment after dropping off his brothers at Tara Yummy's 1 million celebration party. The radio played the playlist created by him and Y/N, which they constantly fed with new songs that reminded themselves of each other.
Matt smiled as he looked to the little surprise he had prepared for his girlfriend. He made a brief stop at a flower shop on the way, where he bought a simple bouquet of pink tulips - Y/N's favorite. His eyes momentarily found the bouquet carefully wrapped and placed on the passenger seat before returning his gaze to the road.
Upon arriving at the building where Y/N lived, his access to the parking lot was quickly granted, the doorman already knowing him very well. The boy didn't take long to take the bouquet in hand, locking the doors and taking the elevator to the corresponding floor.
The sound of the keys against the front door lock sounded faintly through the living room, followed by the sound of the door opening and closing seconds later, Matt quickly taking off his shoes and resting them against the wall.
"Baby?" His voice echoed through the walls, expanding to the nearest rooms, while his eyes quickly surrounded the space, searching for the girl.
"Kitchen!" Y/N shouted back, an involuntary smile growing on her face almost automatically, her body reacting to Matt's presence.
Matt made his way to the kitchen and found Y/N with her back to him, focused on the counter as she moved her arms over the ceramics. With a smile on his face, he approached her silently and hugged her from behind, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his hands on her stomach covered by her hoodie and little green apron.
"Hi, pretty boy." Y/N murmured softly, rubbing her hands together to shake off the flour before wrapping her arms around his, caressing the hoodie-covered skin. "I thought you were going to Tara's party."
"Without my girl? Never." He responded in a low tone against her neck, laying his head on her right shoulder so that his face was facing her neck and sealing her jaw gently. "I brought you something." Matt pulled away slightly and retrieved the bouquet he had rested on the table.
Y/N turned to him with eyes full of curiosity and confusion, which soon turned into pure ecstasy, her heart overflowing with love.
"Oh my... Matt, they're beautiful!" The girl beamed, accepting the bouquet and cradling it in her arms as if it was a newborn.
"I always bring you flowers, I don't know how you still react so surprised." Matt murmured jokingly, smiling as he watched her enjoy the little gift.
As Y/N carefully arranged the tulips in a new ceramic vase, Matt approached the oven to peek at what she was preparing. The delicious aroma of freshly baked cookies filled the air, making his stomach growl with anticipation.
"Did you make cookies?" The boy asked excitedly.
"Yes! I was baking it to take it to you tomorrow." Y/N nodded quickly, returning to her starting position. "Do you want some, hon?"
"Yes, please."
Matt watched in awe as Y/N bent slightly, opening the stove door and carefully taking out the baking tray with her hand covered in the soft yellow fabric glove, resting it on the counter.
He knew he was lucky to have someone so incredible in his life, someone who cared about making every moment special.
The girl rose to her tiptoes after closing the oven, opening the cabinet above the stove and retrieving two dessert plates designed with little strawberries. She placed them side by side next to the tray before taking a small spatula and moving two cookies to each plate carefully, afraid of breaking or dropping them.
Matt walked over, taking one of the cookies from the tray with the tip of his fingertips, ignoring the slight burn from the high temperature. He lifted his own hand, blowing on the sweet before biting off a piece, closing his eyes automatically and letting out a sigh of pleasure through his nose. The way the cookie was still warm made it melt in his mouth, the chocolate exploding against his tongue, multiplying the variety of flavors.
"Is it good?" Y/N giggled, watching him with a smile gracing her face, receiving a quick nod with wide blue eyes. "Come on, baby."
She took the plates in her hands delicately, leaving her kitchen and walking to the balcony with Matt following close behind as he licked his fingers, removing all the chocolate residue.
The night was cool and clear, with the sky dotted with twinkling stars. The couple snuggled into the cushioned chairs that decorated the small space, Matt quickly reaching for the pink blanket that was folded on the small table on the right corner, opening it and throwing it over his and his girlfriend's legs, protecting them against the light breeze.
"Oh! Matt, remember the dog constellation I was telling you about the other day?" Y/N's excited voice cut through the comfortable silence, her eyes lighting up just like the stars above them.
"Sirios? No, wait, Sirius... Right?" Matt frowned, a cute look of confusion spreading across his face as his eyes darted from Y/N to the sky and back again.
"Exactly! Sirius, the brightest star in the night sky. Right there." The girl raised her arm that wasn't holding her plate, pointing her index finger upwards.
Matt looked in the indicated direction, navigating through the stars for a few seconds until he found it.
"Wait, it's actually beautiful. What else do you know about it?"
Y/N smiled truthful, her heart warming at being able to talk more about something she loved so much, without having restrictions or feeling ashamed for her excitement.
"Well, Sirius is a binary star, which means it is actually two stars orbiting around each other. It is part of the constellation Canis Major, the Greater Dog, and is known as 'The Dog Stars'. Oh, oh! Do you remember Sirius Black? My favorite Harry Potter character? So, this star..."
Matt listened intently, slowly chewing the small cookie pieces while keeping his eyes fixed on Y/N. Her passion for astronomy and the universe always fascinated him, and there wasn't a time when she brought up the subject that he wasn't willing to give her his full attention.
As the night progressed, Matt and Y/N continued to stargaze, lost in conversations about the cosmos and its mysteries.
As the last cookie crumbs disappeared from the plates and the sky began to brighten with the sun that appeared over the horizon, Y/N felt a wave of comfort and contentment envelop her body, resting the ceramics on the corner table and moving gently towards Matt, settling on his lap.
The boy opened a big, involuntary smile, automatically wrapping her with his arms and the pink blanket, protecting them from the slight cold of dawn, while she laid her head on his chest, feeling the peaceful rhythm of his heartbeat and serene breathing.
Together, they kept their eyes fixed on the sky that was beginning to take on color, the sound of the first cars on the street, and the laughter of children going to school filling their ears.
Little by little, Y/N began to feel the effects of exhaustion after staying up all night, her body relaxing against Matt's comforting warmth. Sleep came like a gentle wave, enveloping her senses in an embrace.
Her breathing became slow and regular, while her body became limp and light. Her brain shutting down and giving in to deep sleep, to the point where she didn't hear the little whisper of "good night, petal" from her boyfriend, let alone his arms carrying her to her bed, where they finally slept in each other's arms.
༻✦༺  ༻✧༺ ༻✦༺
My asks are always open. My requests are closed at the moment since I have many to work in, but you can always send questions or simply talk to me 🩷💋
And remember to treat people with kindness always!
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~ taglist:
@lustfulslxt @ladybunny44 @worldlxvlys @earth2starkey @remussbitch @freshloveforthefit @il0vebeingdelulu @sturniolowhore @mimi-luvzyu @alorsxsturn @urfavgirllyyyyy @domizzzsstuff @sturnizd @hearts4chris @cupidzsq @dracoflaco @leah-loves-lilies @tylerthecreatorsrealwife @rootbeerworshiper @junnniiieee07 @elliesturniolo1 @sstvrnioloo @lightsgore @gidgett11037 @sturniolho @ksskianshd @ccolleenn @sturniolo-lover1317 @soimightlikeoldmen69 @hrtyjy @ldr-sl0t @breeloveschris @bellasfavbisexual @its-jennarose @sainzzsturns @ecliphttlunar @thebottledwatersupplier @bellasfavbisexual @soso-scarlettolivia @maryx2xx @iammattswife
(If you want to be added to the taglist, please comment here)
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swampjawn · 2 days
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Dungeon Meshi Episode 12 is all about hair. (and lesbians of course)
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With that in mind, I really can't understand why they wouldn't adapt this panel of Marcille letting down her hair in preparation for the resurrection ritual.
It marks the scene transition and shows Marcille in a whole new light. Exhausted and blood-stained, but determined, there's a newfound darkness in her eyes. And I can just imagine how poignant it could have been if they gave it the same level of attention they did to the rest of the scene.
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On the other hand, key animator Ichigo Kanno knocks it out of the park with this resurrection sequence, in which her hair dominates the composition in a way it didn't in the manga!
I love the way Kanno uses the characters hair to convey their energy and emotions. He did it with Senshi last episode with this crazy dynamic cut, but it fits even better thematically here.
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In these three cuts, Marcille's hair takes on a life of its own and dominates the composition.
It flows across the screen like a raging river in this 12-frame loop,
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and grows more and more supernatural in appearance as it twist and flaps up into the air in this 9-frame loop, forming these crazy unnatural shapes that almost look more like flames than strands of hair.
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And when it finally settles down, it forms long ribbons that float downward starting at the scalp and eventually flowing away at the ends like water draining from a basin.
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Marcille's hair really becomes a living embodiment of her own spirit and magical energy.
And by the time the spell is over, it's as if it's grown to an almost unnatural length, stretched to its limits, and when she collapses on the ground, it looks tangled, jagged, and frayed at the ends, completely spent.
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And this is all without even getting into what was obviously the best shot of the episode.
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I get into that and the entire rest of the episode in this full breakdown video, from which this post is an excerpt! Blah blah blah, I really can't be bothered to think of a creative way to say this today, just go watch it.
youtube
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tim-shii · 6 hours
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aventurine as a boyfriend!
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a/n: 2.1 broke me i am no longer the same person i was before the update how can they do this to me 😔 heres bf aven i needed to show him my love i just had to
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bf!aventurine who take you out on dates. mostly cafe hopping or a romantic candlelight dinner in your favorite restaurant.
bf!aventurine who sends you money out of nowhere and without any proper reason.
“did you just send me a hundred thousand credits?” you ask aventurine who’s sat beside you on the couch, his cheek squished against your shoulder as he scrolls through his phone.
"yes."
“why?”
“i don’t know.. i was bored.”
bf!aventurine who gives you little gifts or trinkets, saying he passed by them and couldn’t help but think you might like them. his trinkets varies from little gems to keychains that glitter under the sun.
bf!aventurine who doesn’t like it when you cheat during game nights. he’s not above sulking, giving you the cold shoulder, when he finds out you peeked on his cards when he went to grab a glass of water.
bf!aventurine who swears he’s not a jealous person. he trusts you, with all his life. but he can’t help the sudden anxiety creeping up his chest when he sees you conversing with his good friend, doctor ratio.
bf!aventurine who buys you things you mentioned in passing.
bf!aventurine who buries himself just a little more closer to the back of your neck at night when plagues of memories haunt him and render him unable to sleep.
bf!aventurine who has a habit of kissing your inner wrist. he can be in the middle of a poker game with your sat beside him and he’ll absentmindedly lift your hand up to his lips.
bf!aventurine who likes it when you play with his hair, especially the blond strands on his nape. he’ll even dip in for a kiss whenever you tuck his hair behind his ear.
bf!aventurine who drags you into the shower with him after a long day at work. he’ll spend five minutes just hugging you under the running water before washing up.
bf!aventurine who basks in your undying love and affection. but he can never get himself to tell you that. he’s content with laying in your arms and feeling your lips all over his face.
bf!aventurine who loves the way you kiss his neck. your warm breath brushing against the marking on his neck. one that reminds him of what he went through but you kiss the area like it’s a sacred spot.
bf!aventurine who dances with you in the kitchen of your shared apartment. palm to palm, nose to nose and music provided by him as he sways you two to his own rhythm.
bf!aventurine who lets you style his hair however you want. you want to adorn his hair with jewels? he has a box of assorted ones on his desk, go wild. you want to braid it? go ahead, just be careful not to tangle it.
“you look pretty, aven.”
“i have a hello kitty clip on my bangs.”
“very pretty, indeed.”
bf!aventurine who likes it when you sit on his lap. whether you’re cuddling while watching a movie or you tagged along with him to the casino. you’re always gonna be on his lap with his arms around your waist.
bf!aventurine who didn’t really say ‘i love you’ but instead traced the words on your back. his fingertips gliding across your skin sends shivers down your spine.
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likes and reblogs are appreciated! masterlist
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Note
I would like to request a oneshot of clarisse x fem reader where they are rivals, but during one of Dionísio's children's parties, a small "slip" occurs (kissing and making out sessions fr) and reader ends up waking up in the morning in clarisse's bed and reader doesn't remember anything.
If you don't want to do this that's fine!
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- mistakes were made -
Pairings - Clarisse La Rue x Fem! Reader
An - i do Write every request fun-fact except for a select few but yeah it’s normally in order unless I get Like such a good one I have to write it right then and there BUT! It’s almost always in order of request 😻😻‼️ anyways request more I’m loving them all
An Pt 2 - im having writers block ☹️
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Did you think you were going to be here.. no. But we’re you complaining. Also no..
You were sitting off the edge of a cliff with clarisse while capture the flag happened behind you. Her hands on your hip while yours were pinned by her waist helping you both lean on one another.
Just exchanging soft slow kisses neither saying a word. You pulled away only slightly hiding your face in her neck embarrassed. Since you first arrived at camp you both had this un-natural rivalry, from athletics to academics and beyond.
However after a month ago you both haven’t been able to keep your hands off one another. Finding every excuse or situation to be alone, though nobody knew about your secret makeouts, and no one would.
Some ares kids in the distant started shouting for clarisse bringing you both back to earth. With a heavy sigh she pulled away from you. Standing up she started to grab her spear and helmet.
Following her lead and grabbing your weapons you had started to zone out once again thinking about what you were doing. Jumping some clarisses arms snakes around your waist. “Your gonna be at the party tonight right?” She asked kissing your cheek softly.
“Yeah, im showing up with silena” you closed your eyes and leaned back slightly into her. Clarisse Just hummed in Response. “Great… I’ll see you then” she let you go but not without slapping your ass one good time. Before you could yell at her she was already running off to catch up with her siblings.
••
Standing around near a tree the party quickly got more and more chaotic. Chiron was long gone not really caring as to how or why he left, Mr. D the man who the party was for also had left most likely due to not liking being around all the campers.
With the littles away and in bed the Hermes cabin quickly broke into the dispensary and spiked the punch. One thing you knew was demigods and alcohol don’t mix well.
Your friends all gone and left with some guy or girl into the woods to do what only the gods could judge them for. Finally having enough of being alone you walked past the bonfire, grazing against clarisses shoulder as you did before heading towards the table.
Taking a seat towards the end of the table you swung your legs back and forth just trying to find something to enjoy.
“It’s improper to sit on a table” clarisse spoke making you jump as you hadn’t seen her follow you. Sarcastically sighing you pushed her back by hitting her arm.
“Shut up I’m resting my legs” you chuckled, the effects of the alcohol causing you to be more favorable towards her. After a moment you brought your head up watching as clarisse just leaned on the table beside you watching the kids around. “What are You doing?”
“People watching” she nonchalantly shrugged. “Him, Chris how much you want to bet he has a crush on the new Athena kid” clarisse moved closer to you trying hard to be sly though you saw right through her act, but you played along and leaned into her as well.
“Maybe” You Hummed. “What about Luke who do you think he likes” looking up you admired her gentle eyes, even if clarisse wanted to deny it when her face was calm she looked ethereally beautiful.
“Nobody im telling you that man would rather die than let anyone hit” she rolled her eyes with a smile, turning her head to look down at you she didn’t bother hiding her sarcastic grin.
“Well I guess I’m glad your not like him” everything in the background went semi silent as the small gap between you both closed.
Your lips softly touched one another’s. The first kiss was slow and gentle, your lips barley grazing over one another. Though it only lasted a moment before clarisse placed her hand on the side of your face deepening the kiss. The faint taste of alcohol on her lips, contrasting her subtle cologne. Pulling apart from her you quickly noticed campers looking over whispering and running off most likely to tell their friends, clarisse noticed aswell.
“Fuck.. let’s just get out of here” she muttered helping you off the table and walking towards the cabin. Your hands laced together as she dragged you through the woods, the occasional her yelling at one of her siblings that seemed to be going in the same direction.
Once in the cabin everything happened in small blurs that you could only semi remember. You sitting onto Clarisses bed, her Kissing you, You on her lap, your shirt on the ground and lastly where you currently were heavily making out with the daughter of ares while she grabbed at every inch of skin that she could.
Tangling your fingers into her curls you tilted your head, pressing your body closer if you could. Her tongue finding its self into your mouth while she helped shift you on her lap by your thighs.
Breaking away for a breath of air you kept your face close to hers. “Wanna like, hangout or something” she breathlessly panted.
“Sure” You mumbled quickly kissing her again.
••
Sitting up you rubbed your forehead, the after affects from the alcohol last night hitting you like a hurricane. Running a hand through your hair it took only a moment for you to realize that you in-fact were not in your bed.
Actually you weren’t even in your cabin. Looking around frantically you soon realized you were in the ares cabin, bringing your eyes down you saw clarisse peacefully sleeping with an arm on your waist.
With a slight frown you laid back letting out a deep sigh. Turning your head to the side you just watched as the normally angry girl was calm for once.
Not remembering exactly what happened last night bothered you some. But cuddling with clarisse was a worth it bargain.
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Older! Sugar daddy Eddie???
Warning: includes daddy kink and dom older Eddie. When I wrote this I thought of Older!Eddie with younger reader but it isn't specified.
Eddie is older now and the band is starting to really get noticed. Once that happens, he will buy you anything you want. You don’t even have to ask for it. If he so much as hears you mention wanting something then he will make sure you have it.
It gets to the point where he just gives you his card. It’s early morning and you’re standing in the kitchen as he scrambles to get ready to go to the studio. He’s about to run out the door, but he stops to grab his wallet, pulling out his card.
“Why don’t you go and buy something nice to wear for me, yeah?” He placed the card on the countertop next to your morning cup of coffee before giving you a kiss on the cheek. He’s out the door before you can even try to protest.
You don’t go too overboard with his card. You buy a dress, heels, and a black lace lingerie set, that you knew he would die seeing you in. He is home much earlier than you expected that night. “You’re home early,” you say, hopping off the couch to greet him with a kiss.
“Made sure to end practice early. Wanted to see you sooner.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Mhmmm been dying to get home to you." He says as his hands glide along your curves. "Why don’t you show me what you bought?”
Eddie sits in front of you on the foot of the bed as you model your new dress and new heels. “It’s been awhile since I’ve bought a dress. Do you like this one? I couldn’t decide between this one and the red one I found.”
“You used daddy’s card, right?” Heat rushes to your cheeks as the nickname falls from his lips without a care.
“I-I..Yes. I did.”
“Then you should’ve bought them both, baby. I wouldn’t have minded. It’s my job to spoil you.”
“I’ll get it next time, then. Do you like this one, though?” You ask giving him a little spin.
“Of course, baby. You look gorgeous. Always so pretty for me. Did you get anything else?”
"I did get one more thing" You say teasingly as you slowly slip the dress off to reveal the lingerie set underneath. “I got this just for you, daddy.”
He groans at your words. “Such a good girl for me, aren’t you princess? Lay down on the bed for me, let me reward my good girl.”
Another idea I think Eddie would be obsessed with after being able to spoil you is paying for you to get your nails done.
Eddie loves your nails so fucking much. The way they feel in his hair, or scratching down his back, the way they look against his, the way they look wrapped around his cock....
When it’s time to get a new set you make sure to go to Eddie for his opinion.
“What color should I get for my nails next, Ed?” You watch him think for a second.
“How about blood red? That’ll look really pretty.”
That’s exactly the shade you pick at the nail salon. Before you head home, though, you make a quick stop at Ulta to pick out a matching lipstick shade. You apply the lipstick in the car right before walking into the house so Eddie will see it right as you walk through the door.
“I got my nails done, made sure to do the color you suggested,” you hold out your hands in front of you to show off your nails. It took him a second, but he finally took his eyes off of your lips and looked at your hands, and when he notices his eyes widen slightly. “I liked the color so much I went out and got a matching lipstick. Don’t worry, I used your card for it, too daddy.”
Eddie takes your hand in his, bringing it up to his lips to give your hand a kiss. “Good girl.”
It’s not long before you find yourself kneeling down in front of Eddie on the couch, feeling the rug beneath your knees. His gaze is focused on your hand as you pump his cock. Eddie's head falls back in a groan as you kiss the tip, leaving behind a smudge of lipstick.
Eddie's head doesn’t stay tipped back for long, he lifts his head just in time you watch you sink your mouth down on his cock. “Shit baby,” he groans as he watches in awe, his mouth agape as your maroon-red lips move along his cock. You take him all the way down to the base, gagging slightly as his cock hits the back of your throat.
His hand is in the back of your hair, pulling you off his cock. “You alright sweetheart?”
A string of spit is still on your lips as you blink up at him. The lipstick you have on is smeared all over your mouth. The rest of your lipstick had transferred onto the base of his cock. You nod pathetically "want you to come in my mouth, want you in my throat daddy please.”
Eddie's hand in your hair shoving you right back down onto his cock. Both of his hands collect your hair into a ponytail as he begins to fuck your throat. The size of his cock has you gagging around him. The squeeze of your throat around his length makes sinful moans leave his mouth.
“Such a good girl for your daddy--fuck doll. Taking daddy’s cock so well down your throat. Gonna make me cum. Fuck you want that don't you doll? Want me to cum down your throat?”
You let out a moan in response and Eddie is done for, spilling down your throat with broken moans. He pulls you up off of your knees and pulls you into a kiss.
Let’s just say…he's always eager to spoil his baby...in anyway he can
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hypno-thick · 3 days
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The Wrong Supplement
Every day when I came home, I would find him lying on the couch, his gaze turned to the camera, his body motionless in teasing and seductive poses. Bruno's dream was to be a model; he was of Latino descent and we had met years earlier at community college; at first I had thought he was a nice, reliable guy.
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I needed help paying the rent, especially now that my girlfriend had left me, so I decided I would rent the guest room to him. As the days went by, however, Bruno had turned out to be anything but level-headed: he had started not going to work, preferring to focus on his body and his look, spending his afternoons taking provocative photos of himself, showing off his perfect body. It's just too bad that she didn't have an ounce of salt in her noggin, and she hardly ever paid rent. So every time I returned, I had to put up with his ridiculous poses, the stench of sweat with which he impregnated the living room after the workout, his narcissism and his provocations. All he told me, day after day, was how much of a nerdy loser I was, just because my job was fixing old PCs in a department store and my body was skinny and thin, without the slightest hint of muscle. Every day I thought about how to get rid of him: I had no money to take legal action, I didn't have enough muscle to force him out. All I could do was to ruin him without his knowledge. I decided to look for some experimental supplement, something that would stimulate his appetite without his knowledge and thus compromise the thing he cared about most, his perfect body. It did not take long to find what was right for me on the Internet; it was a powder used to increase appetite in cases of severe emaciation. I ordered it and when it arrived I spent the night mixing it with his supplements, anticipating his downfall. The effect was not instantaneous, but day after day I noticed that something in Bruno was changing. He always spent his afternoons taking pictures of himself on the couch, but I noticed that he often had an empty plate next to him, filled with crumbs, a sign that he was straying from his strict diet in favor of a few extra calories.
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Already after a couple of weeks his body was breaking down; his arms and legs were getting bigger, his hands becoming rounder, as was his face. The abs he cared so much about were slowly disappearing, giving way to a round belly, while his pecs were beginning to become more uniform, with no curved lines to define them. I would occasionally watch him look in the mirror, puzzled, with the air of someone who does not understand where he is going wrong. Who knows, maybe he would get his act together now, be a little less narcissistic, a little more understanding.
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Unfortunately, while his body changed, his attitude remained the same. Although after a month now he was unrecognizable, he continued to take pictures of himself every afternoon, indifferent to the transformation he was undergoing. In fact, he had turned the situation around to his advantage: by now Bruno had become proud of his rotundity, he loved to take pictures and videos of himself while he was chowing down on sandwiches, pizzas, and tacos.
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The couch, previously the site of his adonis snapshots, was now the place where he gave vent to his hunger, supported by an avid online fanbase that liked his body for what it had become. He had even earned enough money to pay his rent and get a chair and a desk, from which he did live shows every night for his fans. I did not understand what could be so interesting about him: fat had now enveloped his every muscle, completely transforming his arms, his legs, his belly. His now round face was wrapped in a thick, dark beard, whereas before it had always been smooth and hairless. On his chest, previously sculptural and clean, a small mass of uncultivated hair made its way between his broad soft pecs. I really did not understand how he could now be more successful than before.
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What I did not notice right away, but began to sense more and more sharply day by day, was his new smell. Before, when I would come home from work, the sour smell of his sweat would permeate the living room and I would rush to open the windows for a change of air. Now, however, Bruno gave off a sweetish, honey-like smell. As if I were an insect caught in an uncontrollable force, every time I came in I would stare at him for a couple of minutes as he posed showing his armpits to the room, proud of his new body. Then he would notice me, and I would embarrassedly leave.
I repeated within myself that nothing was happening, that it was just curiosity, but one day I completely lost track of time and once I stopped watching him strut around on the couch, I realized I had an erection in my underpants. I couldn't get over it, so much so that I didn't leave my room in the evening, totally devastated with embarrassment. At one point, while I was trying not to think about it , Bruno knocked and after a few seconds threw the door wide open.
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His musky smell entered my room like a tidal wave, permeating my nostrils. He was completely sweaty, from head to toe, so much so that he had stained his shorts. I stood petrified, as my penis became irreparably hard. - "Hey, aren't you having dinner tonight?"
As he looked at me with those cocky eyes, I had my mouth wide open, a trickle of saliva slipping down my lips. I could only manage to utter a few syllables, straining to maintain control. - "I..am…not…hun…gry." - "Whatever."
Bruno closed the door with a thud. I was still paralyzed by the sight of his sweaty body. Without my being able to notice, my hand was already in my underwear. I masturbated fiercely and came within seconds, as if I had held back my arousal for too long. As I watched my streams of cum fall to the floor, my horniness dropped dramatically and I just wanted to disappear. Every shred of conviction about my sexuality was crumbling: not only had I masturbated because of a man, which I thought was impossible, but that man was really Bruno, the new, fat Bruno. I went to bed and did not get up until the next day, despite the restless sleep that lasted all night. Fortunately, the next day I would not be working, I thought, as I wondered how I could avoid Bruno for the whole day. When I woke up and walked out of the room with my stomach craving breakfast, I realized it was going to be impossible.
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He was sitting at his new desk, his gaze directed at me from his room through the open door. His musky smell was still magnetic; I couldn't help but look at him. - "Where are you off to? Come here."
I turned, his voice had echoed powerfully in my head, as if it were a command. No longer in control of myself, I rotated as I entered his room, approaching him. Bruno lifted an armpit. - "Smell."
I bent down, without the slightest hesitation. I sank my nose into his already sweaty hairs, breathing in the heady sweet smell they were shedding. I stood there for an indefinite time, the seconds stretching as I could think of nothing but the scent of his armpit. Only at a certain point did his voice resound again in my head, imparting a new order. - "Lick."
Within a second my tongue was passing voraciously over the long wet hairs, collecting every single drop of his sweat. If the smell of Bruno was irresistible, the taste of his armpit was much more so. At that moment, as the sweat drops flowed down my throat, new concepts began to cement themselves in my mind.
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It was now clear that there was no better being in the world than Bruno: he was the most handsome, the most virile, the most masculine. I could do nothing else but be dominated by him, I could only accept to be inferior to him and obey his every command. In fact, it was an honor to be docile, to be obedient, to be his own. At the mere thought of being close to him, I felt a new energy release from my crotch, a sensation that melted my legs, straightened my penis, blurred my vision. There was no more room for a woman in my head; all thoughts of seducing and fucking a girl were erased, I just wanted to be Bruno's, though my mind still did not realize how. As these dictates kept repeating themselves in my mind, I did not notice that I was on my knees on the floor. When I regained consciousness, my tongue was drooling on the ground, now detached from Bruno's armpit. He sat across from me, looking into my eyes. When our gazes met, I felt a rush of joy inside me and, still with my tongue sticking out, I let out a huge smile, accompanied by a half-open, dumbfounded look. - "I discovered your little secret, brat, you know? I'm talking about the powder you put in my supplements."
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I remained still and calm, as if he had said nothing that concerned me. - "By the time I found the origin of this change in me, it was too late. Fortunately, I was able to make this really useful. I like myself even more now, if I can be honest, so maybe I should thank you. Also, I have discovered new things about myself, for example, that I like men. In fact, maybe I should say that I have accepted it, after a lifetime of being repressed. As for you, however…"
He approached me by moving his chair, leaning over to run his thumb over my moist lips. I continued to remain still and happy. - "…You are a hardened straight man, I know. But as you've shown me, there's nothing you can't change. You just have to find the right substance. In fact, you should know that the supplement you made me take also made the hormones produced by my body quite… powerful, you might say. All it took was a few drops in your flask, every day, to fuck up your brain."
He sat back down, spreading his legs and looking at me. I didn't understand anything he was saying, just admiring how manly and majestic he was, in total bliss. - "If it hadn't been for your wicked idea, we would never have been here. You could say you did it all by yourself. But I think we will both be happy with this new cohabitation. From now on, I will no longer be Bruno to you. I will be your papi."
A shiver ran down my spine as I saw him bring his hands closer to his sweaty shorts. - "And you'll be my horny little slut."
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The elastic of his shorts moved downward, revealing part of his massive, hairy thighs. Then, all of a sudden, his cock appeared before my eyes. The smell coming from his crotch was a thousand times more intense and sweet. Surrounded by a thick blanket of hair, his penis stood straight, standing huge between his legs. I did not have time to think that I already had his cock in my mouth. His sweet taste passed over my lips with every movement of my head, while with my eyes closed I enjoyed drooling over his fat 8-inch dong, letting out ecstatic moans of pleasure. My papi was very pleased, I could feel it from his grunts, from the firm grip of his big hand on my head. When he erupted his sweet seed into my mouth, I tried to taste it all, but I could not contain it, pulling away from his dick and gaping as rivulets of cum dripped onto the floor from my lips. I saw him finish and wipe himself off with a napkin. - "Wow, who knew you were such a good bitch."
He had finished wiping himself off, so I walked back over ready to suck his gorgeous cock again. He stopped me, grabbing my hair with his hand and hurting me. He could, though; he was my papi. - "You are such an insatiable slut. Don't worry, your papi is going to make you scream in another way, you're going to enjoy it so much."
I followed him walking on all fours to his bed, where he made me lie down. Then he got on top of me and spread my legs apart. - "Now let your papi fuck you."
His cock entered my asshole in a single stroke, and I let out a howl of pleasure. The bed squeaked under his weight as I felt his body firm on mine, his fat cock passing into me without finding any resistance. His gaze was wild, the eyes of an animal; I was like his female, ready to be impregnated. I called out to him, felt my eyes moistening, my cheeks turning red with ecstasy. - "...paaaaapiiiiii...."
My voice had become high-pitched, like a girlish one. The flood of cum I felt spurting inside me as soon as I had finished calling and moaning to him was confirmation that I had been a good little cunt. As he caught his breath, his cock still inside my anus, we looked into each other's eyes. I thought about the choice I had made, thought that I had made him that way. I couldn't have been happier about it.
After a few months, I was sitting on our couch in what was now our home. I was dressed provocatively, the tight jeans I wore highlighted my little ass, the T-shirt my papi had given me left my belly button exposed, showing off my flat, hairless belly. - "Are you ready? Come on, let's go."
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My papi came out of our room. Under the perfume he had put on I could always feel his arousing hormones caressing my nostrils. The white shirt he wore was unbuttoned just enough to highlight his hairy chest, causing me to have an instant erection. He took my hand, ready to take me out to dinner at some fancy restaurant he could now afford. I, on the other hand, already knew that once we returned home, I would have to do my best. In front of a hundred fans connected online, I was going to have to let his fat cock pound me to the point of exhaustion. I was looking forward to it.
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danytar · 3 days
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“What is mine is mine” [ Yandere! King! Aegon X pregnant!Wife! reader ]
Warnings: sadism- blood- Possessive aegon - mention of sex
Summary: After a long day in the court and council you finally back to your chambers with your husband. When you return, you get into a situation with the maid that drives your husband mad.
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It was a really quite day for you as queen and a little boring because of the endless meetings about the war. You were also on Aegon's small council. And now it was your duty to listen to him as he talked about the war with his usual nonchalance. He acted as if the war was a joke. He leaned back comfortably in his chair. Your grandfather Otto was trying to explain the dangers of war, but Aegon didn't seem to care. A mocking sound came out of his mouth, a mixture of a snort and a laugh. He crossed his elbows on the table and moved a little closer to the table.
“Good, to war then.” He said that, then he looked at you with a playful smile on his lips.
“ The war isn't a game darling”. you replies to him without breaking eye contact. He stared at you with a cheeky smile on his face. You were always more mature than him. “It is a game for me my sweet queen”. he replies.
You didn't answer him because you do not want to engage in a useless stupid discussion with your husband. Especially with a sensitive topic like war.
“I think that's enough for today ”. He leans back in his chair and looks at the members of the small council. “But your grace-”. Otto tried to speak, but aegon immediately interrupted him.
“I said enough! Do you want me to repeat myself?”. He replied in a stern tone.
The hand looked at him as he said “No- no your grace”.
Moments later everyone started to leaving you and your husband face to face at the small council table. Aegon glared at you and got up from his chair as if you were a horse about to be hunted.
He walked towards you and turned your chair to face him “Did I tell you how hot you look today, my love?”. he smilies his charming smilie at you.
You smile and try to keep up with his teasing “No. you didn't”.
He smilies and replies “I think I should show you instead of telling you ”. He grabbed you by your waist and placed you on the council table. Then he kicked the chair away and smiled at you cheekily.
You try to tease him by putting on a disappointed face “I think I get it my dear”. you said
He frowns gently “What is it? Don't you like that? ”.
“I want to go my bedchambers ”. You reply
“Oh.. come on.. be a good girl and spread your legs for me dear darling”.
“No”. you teasing him back.
He frowns sweetly, then smiles cockily and climbs up onto the table to hover above you. “Aeg- wtf you doing right now”. you chuckle. His kisses on his neck tickled you. He grabbed both of your hands and pinned them to the table with his hand while the other slid to your waist.
“You are delicious, my love. what can I say”. he chuckles
You groaned lightly and looked at him. he smilies at you and leaned down to kiss your lips. You bit his lips hard, causing him to let out a loud moan and pull himself away from your lips.
His thumb touched the blood on his lips. he chuckles and said “ I will punish you for this My naughty queen”.
you chuckle and got up from the table “Okay...but keep your punishment in our bedroom, I don't want prying eyes to watch us ”.
“Ohh I will.. ”. An evil smile appeared on his face and he began to lead you towards his chambers.
When you two arrived at the room, aegon groaned in frustration when he saw the group of the servants waiting for you.
He threw himself on the bed and looked at you. You went to the servants and they began to untie your hair and pull the straps of your dress slowly. He watched carefully as your clothes were being disposed of, piece by piece.
Why would you need servants when you have him? He can tear your dress apart in a matter of seconds. A white silk robe has been brought for you. aegon's wild mind started telling him to tear this robe into small pieces.
While he was looking at you, he noticed that one of the maids was touching your body more than necessary. She was clearly caressing your body.
Aegon notices this out of the corner of his eye. And he can't help but feel a mixture of rage and jealousy, seeing another person's hands on her. He looks at the maid, his look making it obvious that he noticed what she was doing.
He got up from the bed and said in a stern and somewhat angry voice “All of you leave us now.. Except this girl! ”. He pointed to the maid who was close to you.
The maids nodded and left quickly. The girl knew that she was in big trouble now.
He couldn't help feeling a bit jealous. It might be unnecessary to be feeling that way... but it was just how he felt.
“What's wrong aegon?”. you said
Aegon ignores your response and quickly approaches and grabs the maid by her hair “You desire my wife, don't you? You want to touch her...and kiss her...don't you? ”. His words were full of venom and anger towards the maid.
“Aeg- listen ”. Before you could finish your sentence, he interrupted you and said “She must do her duty but instead she wants to Fuck you doesn't she? ”.
“Y- your g-g-grace I-”. The girl tried to defend herself, his grip still tight in her hair.
“Silence! I haven't given you the permission to speak ”. He shouted at her
You watched your husband with a confused expression, not knowing what to do. He refused to listen to you.
“I'll show you what happens when you touch the king's property”. he replies to the girl. Then he drags her by her hair towards his huge bed and handcuffs both of her hands to the bed frame.
“Aegon stop- You're trying to calm him down
But with no avail He has already begun to punish the girl he bring his crossbow and arrow Ignoring your words and ignoring the girl's cries and pleas.
Your eyes widened when you saw what your husband was about to do to that poor girl “AEGON! ”. You lunged towards him and grabbed his arm.
“No Y/N I should show her”. He smiled evilly and looked at the girl, ready to shoot.
He shot her with an arrow without batting an eyelid. You stared in shock and then looked at him. he looked back at you and smilies. He dropped his crossbow and moved closer to wrap his arms around your waist.
“You're mine. understood? ”. He looked into your eyes and knelt to kiss your belly.. “Maybe I should fuck you in front of everyone to prove to them that you belong to me”. He muttered as his hands caressed the small bulge of your belly.
you chuckle “This was too much honey you know- ”.
“Who cares about a whore ?”. he replies then continue his sentence “Beside.. I don't want to see this robe on your body, take it off ”.
you felt ecstatic after his words. And before you can comply with his orders He pulled you towards him and you both fell to the ground.. “Oh my god.. My son-”. you speak
he chuckles “Don't worry darling I won't hurt our son”.
He lay on his back and placed you on top of him “Now...should we finished what we started in the council room? ”.
Tell me in the comments if you want me to tagged you in the next stories ♡.
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gay-dorito-dust · 14 hours
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How high on the clingy/protective scale these boys are …
Dick: a solid 8.5/10.
A very clingy bean.
Dick would be attached to your hip 24/7 if he could but he couldn’t answer that makes him sad.
In the wise words of @obsessedwithromance on one of my recent posts; ‘if Dick was a dog, he’d be a husky.’
And he’d make a very vocal husky at that with how often he whines and whinges whenever you tried to move from his grasp, acting as though every attempt in removing yourself from his arms were an attack against his character. So he will take personal offence to you wanting to leave him out in the cold and desolate place that was your bedroom. 💀
‘Stop trying to get out of my arms.’ He moans, tightening his hold on you as he buried his head into your neck, locking legs with you for extra measure. ‘Dick, I love you but you’re being too clingy for me right now.’ You reply and had just noticed the error of your ways almost immediately and were about to explain yourself but it was already too late, for you had set Dick the human husky off.
‘Me? Clingy? I thought you liked it when I was clingy? Why the sudden change? What did I do wrong? Why don’t you love me?’ Dick began his tirade and you could only lay there and let him talk your ear off -and loudly might I add- about how you apparently didn’t love him enough, which was a bunch of bullshit, but dick was too in his feelings to listen to reason. You’ll have to kiss him to shut him up, there’s no other option.
So once he’s settled down, he’ll go back to cuddling against your back,smiling dopily while you could only congratulate for a job well done at defusing the situation form getting any worse. You love your dramatic human husky and you wouldn’t change anything for anyone.
Jason: 7.5/10 or a 8/10.
The only time you’re seeing this man be clingy as all hell if he’s in a particular mood and want your affection, which might as well be all the time with this man, or after a not so great nightmare.
He would wake up in a cold sweat and immediately look for you and hold you against his chest as though you were his personal teddy bear, only just until his breathing evens out and not so tense in the muscles. Until then he holds onto you tightly and familiarises himself with you in anyway that he could, whether that be counting your eyelashes, noting the different shades that make up your eyes and much more.
At least just enough to help him gain some sense of self and awareness that he was safe and sound from all harm.
Like Jaime, Jason would watch over you like a hawk as Red Hood without a shadow of a doubt, and Jason has his reasons to do so as he knows the type of people who litter the streets of Gotham at night like the back of his hand. He doesn’t want to subject you to that sort of life of constant fear of having to look over your shoulder in hopes that there wasn’t someone following you home.
For in his minds eye, he’s your sole protector and the one thing that stands between the scumbags of the street and you. Jason doesn’t take this position he’s given himself lightly, it’s unlike him to anyway, as your safety is his top priority and he’d do anything to obtain it; whether they way it’s obtained was morally questionable or not, he doesn’t care for as long as your safe, he’ll live to learn with having permanent blood on his hands.
Damian: 5/10 on a good day. 2/10 in general.
He’s not an overly clingy person. Protective? yes. Clingy? No. It’s just not in just nature and he can be very awkward going about it too.
Damian knows he doesn’t have to constantly survey you 24/7, he has more faith in you and your abilities then most. He knows that you won’t call upon him if at all when faced with a situation that you could easily resolve yourself.
However if you were to get hurt on his watch or otherwise, that’s when he gets slightly clingy and will attempt to be within any space with you possible. Damian shows care in a completely different way than most and will more or less act like a guard dog when it came to you.
This little dude will point his sword at anyone that comes into close contact with you while glaring at them, meanwhile you’re having to push the blade of his sword down and away from the poor victim, only for Damian to raise his sword back towards their throat once more.
‘Pack it in.’ You’d hiss.
‘No. You’re practically useless when hurt, so let me deal with this one.’ Damian said.
You purposely ignored the fact that he had just called you useless and instead pushed the blade of his sword down until it was pointing at the floor again. ‘He’s not even a threat, just a regular citizen. So you can stop it with the fear attics now.’ You told him in a hushed tone. Damian meets your eyes with a glare of his own. ‘How you can be certain he’s a harmless civilian? What if he’s a low life thug of an underground drug syndicate on the rise? You can’t allow yourself to trust every face you meet.’ He replies, not one to back down for anyone, not even you.
You sigh as you rubbed the sides of your head. ‘Well at least try not to cause more issue for your dad. I swear between you, Jason, Tim and Dick I don’t know who gives him the most grey hairs.’
Jaime: runner up for Dick’s crown with also a 8.5/10
He’s clingy in a sense that he fears of loosing you constantly.
Khaji-Da doesn’t make the situation any better as it only encourages Jaime’s Innate clinginess tenfold, and now Jaime can’t go a couple of minutes without offering to join you on wherever your going.
He just cares about you very deeply and wouldn’t know what to do with himself if he’d ever lost you despite having the ability to stop any harm from coming your way. So needless to say that you spend most of your time with him and his family is a severe understatement.
It’s not as though he doesn’t trust you, he wholeheartedly does, but that trust doesn’t extend to potential outside threats. Hell, he would even go as far as to watch over you as Blue Beatle, much to the behest of literally everyone that isn’t Khaji-Da because the scarab is just as clingy over you in a sense that you were Jaime’s mate and there for should be within close proximity to him at all times.
It’s endearing but I think it’s about time you told Kahji-Da to cool it on the whole threatening people you talked to with plans to eliminate them…
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createdbytragedy · 2 days
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LOVE CHANGES
A/N: This is like the continuation of my previous post Love and So... There's this girl. But it can be read without reading them too. Though I'd like you to check it out and tell me how I do.
Pairing: Lee Minho x reader
Genre: Fluff, crack
Warning: Reader is a well known fashion designer, Han being extremely dramatic,
Synopsis: Its been 6 months since you and Minho dated which means 6 months since Minho has been acting 'suspicious'
It has been too long. Too long since Minho started acting really, really suspicious.
Han occasionally peeked at Minho who sat across from him at the dance studio, smiling at his phone.
Why is he smiling?
Minho had been acting so, so, so weird lately. And Jisung had noticed it since the beginning. He was acting really suspicious.
How?
Well, since when did Minho start to randomly smile at his phone while texting? Since when did he start to wear bracelets? That too, that had a sparkly sun in it. It looked like something he would wear but when Han asked if he could burrow it, he was met with a stern glare and a cold 'no'.
Minho's been too excited to go home these days too. Like, he had something better to do than just lay on his bed and dream about his cats. Whenever the gang decides to eat a takeout and just go home together, Minho would deny and say he had to go home now.
Go home to do what?!
Now, Jisung watched as Minho once again smiled at his phone then started typing. He stood up from his seat and strided towards Minho.
"Who are you texting?" Minho immediately pulled the phone on his chest, like hiding it from him.
"No one. " He answered, the smile he saw just now long gone and he had this serious poker resting bitch face.
"You were smiling." Han stated, eying him suspiciously. Minho raised his brow at his friend's odd behaviour.
"I was?"
"Yes, you were. "
A silence followed after with both party in different reason. Han looked at Minho like he was a puzzle he was trying to solve and Minho looked at Han like he just lost his marbles.
"What's up with you?" Minho asked, trying to fake a laugh to lighten the awkward situation.
Jisung scoffed," What's wrong with me? No. What's wrong with you? "
His tone raised and attracted the attention of the other hyung line present in the room. They gave each other a knowing look and continued minding their own business while keeping their ears wide open.
"You're acting weird. " Han told him.
"How?"
"You're smiling randomly at your phone and you never wear bracelets especially the ones with sparkly sun draped around it!" He looked so serious it almost looked like a couple bickering.
"Can I not just smile at my phone and change my interest?" Minho asked back, getting up to meet Han's eyes. He found all these so ridiculous and amusing.
"No," Jisung shook his head ," you can't. Not you. "
"What are you trying to imply by that, hm?"
"That YOU ARE CHEATING ON ME WITH A REALLY PRETTY WOMAN!!" He screamed, sobbing onto the floor.
Minho's eyes widened at the accusations or rather the fact as all his members looked at them. Eyes wide, jaw dropped. Hyunjin let out a dramatic gasp and he could see Seungmin smirk from the corner of his eyes.
"Lee know, you are what?" Hyunjin asked, clenching his heart. Minho rolled his eyes but shot them wide open when even his hyung joined.
"You're cheating on Hannie with a woman?" Bang Chan asked, eyes wide.
"Why are you emphasizing the woman so much?"
"That means you are dating a woman!!" Felix screeched, pointing an accusing finger to Minho.
And before he knew it, all his members had surrounded him, sitting in a circle and asking him numerous questions.
"Who's the girl? Come on, tell us!" Changbin pleaded, taking Minho's arm and squeezing it like a little girl.
"Is she an idol? Is she pretty? Wait, do we know her?" Felix seemed just as excited as a teenage girl.
"You cheater!" Han scoffed, "is she prettier than me?"
"I can't really imagine you dating a girl or doing anything romantic." Jeongin stated, chuckling dryly. Seungmin agreed, scrunching up his nose while looking at Minho.
"Aish! You guys are so annoying!! Why are you so interested in my love life?! "Minho groaned, shaking Felix and Changbin off his arms.
"Then just tell us her name and her Instagram id and we'll ask her on our own. " Hyunjin suggests, rolling his eyes like it was an obvious thing.
Tch, as if.
"No way in hell you're getting anything of her, Hyunjin. " Minho simply stated.
"Why not??!! Come on....... Show us a picture? Is it true? Did she get you this bracelet?" Felix asked, touching the silver metal wrapped around his wrist. Minho extracted his hand quickly like Felix had a disease or something.
"I'd rather not hear it, to be honest." Seungmin muttered, like anyone was stopping him from walking out the wide open door. But he stayed seated, next to Jeongin.
"Okay, okay, guys, I think you should leave him alone." Bang Chan chimes. A few groans left their mouths. Mostly changbin, Felix and Hyunjin.
"Oh, come one. Don't be such a party pooper. Don't you wanna know who got Minho hyung's heart?" Changbin said, making a heart in his fingers and placing it in front of Minho's chest.
"If you just tell me who the girl is, I'll forgive you. " Jisung added. Minho rolled his eyes.
"I actually do want to know, though." Bang Chan agreed. Minho could only groan now as his only saviour gave him an apologetic yet teasing grin. He let out a sigh of defeat and looked around at his members who looked back at him with eagerness.
"Fine. " He groaned, " I am dating a girl. "
A teasing whistle echoed and Minho felt someone nudging his shoulder. Probably Felix. He didn't care to look. They continued to stare at him like curious kittens so he continued.
"Who is it?"
"(y/n). (Y/n) (L/n)." Minho replied simply.
"Wait, you mean the designer (y/n)?" Hyunjin asked, eyes wide. Minho simply nodded,"are you kidding me?! I'm wearing her autumn collection shirt right now!" He shrieks, pulling his shirt to show everyone the white sweatshirt he wore.
"Seriously?! You're dating her?! For how long?" Changbin asked.
"It's been 6 months, I think. " Minho said, calculating in his mind.
"You've been dating for 6 months and never mentioned her to us?!" Jisung asked, too dramatically for Minho's liking.
"I did mention her all the time. Remember the friend I went to dinner with? The park? The museum?" He rolled his eyes, trying to remind Jisung of the hints he dropped.
"You just said it was a friend . You never mentioned the friend's gender. " Jisung said defensively. Minho rolled his eyes for like the 10th time tonight.
"I can't believe (y/n) would date someone like you. " Seungmin commented, earning a glare from Minho.
"What do you mean by that?"
"Nothing. Just that, she's so...... Cheerful and loud, in a good way of course. And you're just gloomy and boring. " Seungmin nonchalantly added like it was a fact everyone knew. Minho gave him a somewhat offensive side eye.
"Yeah. I've seen her interviews, she's really cute and lively. Like a sunshine!" Felix added, which sparked a lightbulb above Jisung's head.
"Sunshine?! Is that why you have a sunshine bracelet?! Is it a couple's one? Oh my god!!" Jisung's exaggeration made a few laughs and a few rolled their eyes," which one does she have?! A star?! A moon?!"
"A moon. " Minho replied.
"Do you have a picture together?" Jeongin asked, ignoring the shocked Jisung beside him.
"I think so. " Minho said, unlocking his phone to search for a picture of both of you.
"Hate to chime in but are we allowed to date right now?" Seungmin cut in. All of them looked at him with a glare that said 'not now'. But he just shrugged.
"The dating ban is actually lifted for us. " Chan started," but the fan's reaction may not be very pleasant. Plus, she has her own fans. I heard they are quite protective."
"Who knows you might end up bald and jobless like the last guy she had dating scandal with" Seungmin added, snickering like it was the funniest joke he had ever heard.
"Shut up now Seungmin," Hyunjin said, nudging him by the shoulder," Hyung, tell us about her more. "
"Is she the reason you started drinking coffee too?" Jisung once again questioned, earning a nod from Minho.
"I think so," Minho recalled," we actually met at a coffee shop. " "So, love at first sight?" Felix asked, making a heart sign. Minho shook his head and looked straight ahead. Lost in thought. "It wasn't exactly love at first sight but something similar. The first time we spoke, I felt it. An ache, like a little electric burn. I felt my life change. " "Fate, huh. 'Cause what the heck were you doing in a coffee shop if you don't drink one?" Changbin questioned.
"I don't know. I just felt like I had to go there. Something was so alluring. " "Cringe. " Jeongin snarked. "You seem happier, though," Seungmin stated, others nodded along with him," In the last 6 months, you really changed. "
"Yeah, I haven't gotten any threats to be put in the air fryer in a while. " Hyunjin remarked, making the others laugh including Minho. "I can do that now if you want, Hyunjin. " "No, I'm good, actually." "Is no one gonna come to the fact that my husband has been cheating on me for the last 6 months?" Jisung interject. "Well, (Y/n) is actually very similar to you, Hannie. She is, in fact, just like you. She stuffs her face with food and she fall asleep anywhere. She sucks at cooking too. " Minho mentioned. "Are you saying she has all my bad qualities?" "Bad? No way, she's literally perfect. Those are cute qualities. You should've seen your faces when you're passes out on the chair." "It's to die for." Changbin added.
"So, you're not leaving me?" Jisung asked, pouting. "As long as we're in the same group, I'll have to be with you even if I don't wan to. " "So I'm still your baby?" "You were never my baby!"
"Stop it, you guys! It's disgusting," Jeongin coughed," But, we'd like to meet (y/n). " "Yeah, call her here! " Felix exclaimed after he was done listening to all of them. "Yeah, I want her autograph!" Hyunjin added earning some side eyes from others ," what? like you don't have all her summer collection too, Seungmin" "What? shut up!" Seungmin blushed having his secret revealed. "I think I'll ask her. " Minho said. "She really did changed you, huh Minho?" Bang Chan giggled, seeing Minho's cheeks turn red. "OOOOOOOOOOhhhhhhhhhhh~~~~~," Changbin sang," I see someone is blushing, huh~~~~"
The other members upon hearing that, looked at their Hyung with the same teasing smirk and started to tease him. "Minho hyung seemed a lot happier, right?" Jisung said, watching others tease Minho. "Yeah. I can't wait to meet (y/n). She must be so special. " Bang Chan agreed. "I still didn't agreed to sharing him, though. " "WhAT?"
148 notes · View notes
saintescuderia · 2 days
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pancakes (pt. 2)
apologies for the delay; was marshalling the aus gp lol. enjoy.
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AKA - the story of how the naive australian rookie befriended the gym junkie F1 hospitality worker with the shoe collection - and inadvertently broke the grid's most treasured and unspoken rule: you don't go for y/n.
series masterlist here :)
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P2 - hamstring and piriformis stretches
“Y/N Tessio?”
“She works in hospitality.” Oscar clarified without an ounce of stress. He wasn’t embarrassed by this. Yes, he was close friends with a member of the F1 Hospitality. Yes, he was asking that part of his Formula 1 contract include that you become his personal trainer. Yes, he wasn’t going to accept any contract without that condition. 
Otmar didn’t know that last fact when he had laughed off Oscar’s request the last time they had spoken. It was the last nail in the coffin that showed to Oscar what had been gnawing at his gut for so quite some time: this team wasn’t quite right. Now, at lunch with Zak Brown, who had wanted more official meeting in the McLaren motorhome, Oscar laid out the same request. And Zak Brown seemed understand the severity of it: Oscar Piastri would not accept anything unless you were right there with him. 
This morning was only proof of it all. His anxiety had kept him up and it was only after finding you that everything seemed to work itself out. After you had made him run a lap around the track, you promptly dumped some melatonin gummies in his hand and sent him off to bed to sleep. And sleep he did. Oscar had woken up feeling more refreshed than he had in a long, long while. 
Refreshed, Oscar had taken your advice and called Lily. He mentioned love languages and she gushed. The call ended with them sounding more on page and stronger than ever. Oscar also took your advice in calling his dad to ask about a lawyer. His dad had been surprised that his son had been so forward thinking.
Oscar had admitted it was your idea. His dad stopped being surprised; of course it had been your idea. 
“Oh, they’re good people, Osc. The sort you need around you in a place like Formula 1! Make sure you have them on your team!” Oscar was already thinking what his dad was suggesting, agreeing wholeheartedly. He needed you on his team.
And that was before Oscar arrived at the Alpine motor home for one of the staff to let him known that hospitality had delivered some specially made protein pancakes and fresh orange juice for his breakfast. There was a note under cutlery with your scrawl of ‘take magnesium.’ 
He asked his Alpine trainer for some, the very same one you thought was an utter dickhead. Said trainer, François, somehow didn’t have any supplements. Sighing, Oscar dug into your famous pancakes that had the perfected macros for an athlete of his sort. He would just ask you for magnesium later - and take your usual heat of having a “fucking dropkick of a trainer.” It was just more and more proof that Alpine wasn’t looking good for him. Even he knew it was bad for a trainer to not be prepared like that.
Now, in a room full of papaya orange, Oscar looked at the American CEO and waited patiently for Zak Brown to tell him what he thought about the request to have you working alongside McLaren Racing as part of Oscar’s contract.
“What, um, what qualifications does she have?” Zak asked, shifting slightly to type on his computer. Oscar watched as Zak’s eyes grew as he stared at the screen. “Oh, I know her! She makes an solid cappucino!” 
“Melbournian barista.” Oscar smiled. It was true, you had gotten your barista license back when you were living in Melbourne. And if there was one thing Melbournians were proud of, it was their coffee. “She grew up near Albert Park.” Oscar added the tidbit you had dropped upon first meeting and Oscar was basking in the Australian accent. 
"Says she was born in Monaco." Zak said.
"What?" Oscar frowned, completely taken aback at this. You had never mentioned anything to him about being born in Monaco. You were from Melbourne, near the beach. That's what you had told him.
Nothing about Monaco, Monte Carlo.
In Europe.
But Oscar didn't have time to process that because Zak Brown continued on. “Still, it doesn’t say anything about Y/N being trained in anything health or sports-related.” The McLaren CEO said, his eyes skimming over his computer screen that likely read your resume that was stored in the shared F1 database. Formula One Group and the FIA had allowed team principals and CEOs to access these files when they needed to identify a snitch that had violated the NDA.
It was all too often that a team suffered a blow by a Hospo staff member whistleblowing some important fact they overheard while serving the refreshments. 
“She knows about Daniel.” Oscar said. Zak blinked, clearly taken aback. He swallowed and Oscar quickly added, “And no, she didn’t tell me. I figured it out that she knew and told her.” 
-
“Okay, you’re right. I do feel better.”
“Better enough to do another lap?” You grinned at your friend whose sweaty face dropped into a deadpan. You had both slowed down as you came to the starting line. Now that was nearing the 6am mark, there were more and more people starting to come out. 
But you were with a driver. You knew all too well that it would be fine. Drivers are untouchable. You wanted to milk this for all it was worth. “Come on, Piazza! A light jog!” You added, wanting to enjoy this just all the little bit more. 
“You’re insane. No.” To prove his point, Oscar actually came down to sit on the road. And then he lay flat on his back. You watched him and exhaled, accepting one lap was all you were going to get. Hell, that was more cardio than you normally did. And besides, you knew Oscar had a rough night and was running in Sambas. Athlete aside, you were just surprised he managed the lap in as is. 
So you came to sit beside him, except you didn’t lay back and try to catch your breath as he did. No, instead you stretched your legs out and then leaned forward to stretch out your calf muscles. 
Oscar looked over at you and rolled his eyes. The ever insane gym junkie Y/N. He knew he should be doing the same. His flexibility had really taken a toll and besides that, he was stiff and restless from all the travelling and the stressful conversations with his girlfriend and team principals. Oscar sat up and brought his legs out just like you and leaned forward to stretch his hamstring. Just like you. 
You said nothing about this but you didn’t need to; the smug grin on your face was enough. You switched legs shortly. Oscar copied. You brought both legs together. So did he. You leaned back and brought your knee up to stretch your piriformis. Oscar begrudgingly did so. And so it went as you and Oscar stretched your entire bodies out right there at the starting line of the Sochi Circuit. It was when they finished the reverse pigeon pose on both sides that you stretched your legs out and made no move for another stretch. You both settled in a comfortable silence and watched the sky. 
Oscar watched the sunrise and smiled, feeling a lot lighter after the run and the stretching. He glanced over at you watching the sun and felt a sense of appreciation for you.
“Think carefully of who you choose to drive for.” You said, breaking him from the reverie. “This will be your first F1 team and it will reflect on how other teams in the future will see you.” Oscar was quiet as he thought about your words. Some birds were starting to fly across and Oscar noted how your eyes trailed them. 
Oscar took a steading moment and then said what had been on his mind the entire night. “Daniel Ricciardo is going to be dropped. Zak Brown wants me to be his replacement.” 
You didn’t react. 
You didn’t have to. 
All you did was keep watching the birds. 
Oscar pursed his lips. Of course you weren’t surprised. You were never surprised. And you already knew about Daniel.
“You know about Daniel and McLaren.” It really wasn’t a question. You offered him a soft smile in response and sat up to stretch out your hand to gently squeeze his. Oscar frowned. 
“My platonic brother in Christ,” you began with a sad smile and he grimaced, “you have a good heart. Don’t let this place take that shit away from you.” 
You let go of his hand and Oscar sat up to face you. “Why didn’t you— you didn’t say anything.” 
“It’s not my place, man, I just make the coffee.” You said with a full fledged smile. Oscar was at a loss for words. You often worked shifts at McLaren - he knew that because those were the days you had double sessions at the gym. Oscar never found it in himself to ask. Now, he did. 
“Do you not like… McLaren or anything?” Oscar asked. “Should I not drive for them.”
You were silent for a moment looking ahead of you before you spoke. “No, nothing wrong with the team.” It was clear there was something wrong with something. Oscar couldn’t ask because you stood up and held out a hand to him. He took it and let you pull him up. “Come on. Reserve drivers are only needed after lunch. I’ll give you some melatonin to help you sleep and then you can call your girlfriend.”
“And find a lawyer.” Oscar added. “But I think Zak Brown could get me one.”
“Always have your own lawyer.” You said with such a firm conviction that it had Oscar looking at you with curious eyes. 
Sometimes, he wondered how you knew so much about the ins and outs of life in Formula 1. 
-
“So you’re saying Y/N actually follows the NDA?” Zak asked, bringing his hands together to rest under his chin. 
“Yep. Wakes up at 4am everyday and works out for two hours. Doesn’t drink or smoke and if given the chance, would probably run a half marathon at every track. She's worked with F1 for years so she knows the diet and routine of a driver.” Oscar paused and then tried to remember some more facts now that he had his chance, his opening.
Never mind that he didn't know you were apparently born in the heart of Formula 1.
Though, that reminded him— “She's fluent in French. And Arabic. Which will be good for the Middle Eastern and European races." Oscar added, thinking of your background. Or what he did know of your background. "And she has an international license.” Or he thought you did, vaguely remembering you mention something about cars in Japan.
Japan!
“I think she also speaks Japanese pretty good.” Oscar said, remembering Spa last year and seeing you conversing with Yuki Tsunoda as you made him a matcha.
“Hmm.” Zak pursed his lips. His eyes scanned over the resume once more and then nodded. “Look, Oscar, it’s no secret that I want you for McLaren. I think you’d be a very good fit here. If you think Y/N would be a good fit with McLaren also, then I’m onboard with that.” 
Oscar nodded, finally letting himself let go of the seriousness and let out a smile. He honestly couldn’t believe what he was hearing. This was actually happening.
But if his father had taught him anything, it was to not get too carried away. Oscar kept composed as he kept his face as neutral as possible and smiled politely. “That sounds really awesome, Zak, thank you. When could we get everything in paper so I can go over it with her?” And his lawyer.
“I’ll speak to some people today and we’ll get a rough contract outline ready. Helen, the PR manager, will send it to you and Y/N,” Zak looked back at his screen, “to the email on the resume here. And then we can organise a meeting and move forward.” Oscar smiled once more, feeling the stress and tension dissipate from his shoulders. 
“But,” Zak then added, “I can’t really promise anything. The lawyers will need to sort this out since she’s already under contract with the Formula One Group and if they won’t release her then there might not be much we can do about it.”
Oscar nodded, frowning slightly. “I understand.” Admittedly, that was something he hadn’t thought about. He’d been too preoccupied trying to get Y/N a place with him on whatever team he joined that he didn’t think about her tie with Formula One Group. 
“If all goes well, though,” Zak was quick to add, seeing Oscar frown, “we could even sponsor some study for her and help her work her way up. If she’s as dedicated as you say, and has that sense of integrity and spirit, then McLaren would be perfect for her.”
Oscar knew Zak was trying to butter him up with the promise of having Y/N. And Oscar had to admit, it was working. This was about you, after all.
There was a knock on the door. Oscar recognised Zak’s PA but couldn’t recall a name. She offered him a warm smile and then apologised. “I’m so sorry to interrupt but Lando wants to speak with you.” 
“Yes of course!” Zak beamed. “Send him in.” He stood up and Oscar’s manners kicked in and he stood up also, assuming the meeting was now over. This reminded Zak of him and he returned his attention at the young Australia. “Unless you had any questions or anything else you wanted to add?” Zak’s question made Oscar want to laugh since they were both already standing up and Lando Norris was already through the door. 
Oscar knew how these politics were going to go. If he did sign with McLaren, Lando Norris was going to be the number 1 in everything. And not just in driver priority. 
“Nope, all good. Thank you again for listening and being so receptive to my request about Y/N.” Oscar held out his hand. Zak shook it and smiled. 
“I have a good feeling about this, Oscar. I’m looking forward to the future.” Zak said. He came around the table to greet Lando and Oscar smiled at his soon to be teammate. 
This wasn’t the first time Oscar had met Lando Norris, such was the small world of karting and racing. However, it was the first time that Oscar had seen Lando since Zak Brown had made it clear that he wanted him to be Norris’ new teammate.
Oscar wasn’t sure how to feel about Lando, knowing that the driver was equal points talented as he was, well, spoiled. Not that a spoiled F1 driver was a novelty, but Oscar had noticed that Y’N’s mornings before a McLaren shift always ended with a long sparring session with the punching bag.  
“Alright?” Lando said with a lazy acknowledgement. “Heard the news.”
Oscar’s kept his face straight. Of course Lando Norris would see no need for subtlety. The PR training all drivers went through for the media usually extended to the Paddock as a whole as conversations were always sanitised. Everyone knew that what you said wasn’t what you meant. Talking around the issue was part of the life of Formula 1. 
Oscar was used to this. So seeing Lando so abrupt about this, and in front of Zak Brown, was quite telling. Especially when it was doubtful that Daniel himself knew anything about his imminent redundancy. 
“Yeah, I’m good. Nice seeing you around.” Oscar said, keeping himself polite and respectful - and making no comment about the news. He looked at Zak Brown once more and offered his thanks before letting the PA show him out of the room. Oscar looked back to see Lando staring at him. Oscar considered just what he was signing up for. 
Still, Oscar could turn around and leave the office with a weight off his shoulders. Even though he knew how it would look, walking out of McLaren, he was surprisingly more at ease than ever. Sure, Oscar knew the fallout of leaving Alpine and joining McLaren would be bad; especially if it meant kicking out another driver - and one that was a personal hero, but he felt a lot more at ease. No matter the fallout, no matter Lando Norris, he knew it would be okay. Because he was going to have you right there next to him. 
There was no way Oscar was going to survive Formula 1 without you. And your gym addiction. 
-
taglist:
@eugene-emt-roe @spookystitchery
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hotvintagepoll · 2 days
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Propaganda
Cyd Charisse (The Bandwagon, Brigadoon, Singin’ in the Rain)—LEGS LEGS LEGS I would sell my soul for the legs of Cyd Charisse - she oozed style and glamour and sex appeal!! And she could DANCE! She was dancing next to the greats - Gene Kelly, Fred Astaire but they are never who you're looking at because why would you when you can look at her. I will only sit through too long ballet breaks for her. If there was any woman who you could call sex on legs it was her. These dances are everything to meeee (she comes in at the minute mark) and this dance too of course is iconic. In the words of Fred Astaire 'When you've danced with Cyd Charisse you stay danced with'
Suchitra Sen (Harano Sur, Chaowa Pawa)—Suchitra Sen! She had a 25-year career in Bengali films, and was at the height of popularity for a solid two decades as half of the wildly beloved pair of Uttam-Suchitra, who were practically the entire romantic genre of Bengali films by themselves. She acted in literary adaptations, romantic comedies, (melo)dramas and inspired-by-current-events films. She was the first Indian actress to receive an international award at the Moscow International Film Festival. In 1978, after the release of her last film (a box-office flop) she pulled a Garbo and put herself out of the public eye completely. She made no appearances, gave no interviews, refused awards, all of it. She didn't even show up for her daughter's or grand-daughters' debuts! She was taken for funerary rites in a covered hearse! The glamour! The mystery! That blinding smile!
This is round 2 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.
[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]
Suchitra Sen:
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Not to take away from her costars in Devdas (1955), but the great Indian cinematic tradition of Tragic Romantic Yearning would not, I argue, be what it is without Suchitra Sen's performance in that film. I root for things to turn out better for her every time, even though I know how things are going to go.
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A Bengali cinema icon. Liked crows (per Gulzar, "It was an astonishing sight. The crows used to pick at the grapes from her hand").
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She once rejected Raj Kapoor's movie offer (one of the most successful actor and director at the time). She was quoted saying, “In men, I don’t look for beauty. I look for intelligence and sharp conversations. I had refused Raj Kapoor’s offer almost immediately. He came to my residence offering a lead role and, as I took my seat, he suddenly sat near my foot and offered me a bouquet of roses while offering the role. I rejected the offer. I did not like his personality. The way he behaved – sitting near my foot – did not befit a man.”
Legendary poet, lyricist, director and writer Gulzaar had this to say about her "Glad that my ‘Sir’—that’s what I call her— got the Dada Saheb Phalke award during her lifetime. Contrary to people’s perceptions, Suchitra Sen is an extremely warm and very very friendly person. I adore and respect her. But she has the right to choose her friends. Surely she’s justified in keeping away from every Tom, Dick and Harry. She’s the only example of such quiet dignity in show-biz. That’s why the media compares her with Great Garbo. Suchitra Sen is my Sir. I’ll explain. During the shooting of Aandhi she started calling me Sir. Everyone in Kolkata calls her Madame. Since I’m her junior I requested her not to call me Sir. But she insisted. (We always converse in Bengali). So I call her Sir and she calls me Sir.”
Linked musical number [won't let me display embedded for some reason]
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Cyd:
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Photos do not do Cyd Charisse justice, unfortunately, because she is at her hottest while dancing, which she was exquisitely good at. Just go watch her first number in Singin' in the Rain, in that green dress; nothing I could say here will be more convincing that that.
She had amazing legs, and she knew how to use them! You probably know her best from the dream sequence in Singin' In The Rain. She was such a stunning dancer, and all her dance scenes are hard to look away from.
Dancing in the Dark clip:
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She's an amazing dancer and my favorite from the period. Here's her and Fred Astaire in the Band Wagon:
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I just like a woman who's there to be really incredibly good at dancing.
One of the most talented female dancers in Hollywood history, but what sets her apart from other competitors for that title is that she...umm...well let's be blunt, she was the dancer who put sex into it. The one who said "Hey, you know that A+ leg tone that naturally develops from doing this for a living? Why don't I let people see that? Like at every opportunity?" She reportedly insured her legs for five million dollars after hitting it big, which just goes to show that fame makes you crazy. It should have been ten million.
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Arguably the Best female dancer of her time, she supposedly insured her legs for $5 million dollars. Stole the show whenever she had a dance number, even if she went uncredited. Musicals started to go out of fashion so unfortunately she didn't have as many big roles as she should have, but those she did are unforgettable. The Broadway Melody number in Singin' in the Rain - the green dress!
She could pirouette in pointes or tear it up in taps. Fred Astaire called her "beautiful dynamite" and wrote, "That Cyd! When you've danced with her you stay danced with." Gene Kelly partnered with her three times. Her legs were (reportedly) insured for $5 million in 1952 ($57.8 million in 2024 dollars)! Everyone in this poll will be iconic, but for raw physical grace, Cyd is up there with the best.
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Legs for days, beautiful dancer in the most iconic scenes of Singin in the Rain. She's glorious. As some guys sung to her in It's Always fair weather, 'baby you knock me out!'
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Incredibly, Cyd Charisse only started learning to dance as a rehab exercise to strengthen her body after a childhood bout of polio. She was in high demand as a dance partner, Fred Astaire called her beautiful dynamite and said "When you've danced with her, you stayed danced with". She was one of a few leading ladies to dance with both Astaire and Kelly, declaring them both delicious. Kelly apparently was stronger, while Astaire was more coordinated. She also said her husband would always know who she had been dancing with because Kelly left her bruised, while Astaire didn't leave a mark. She's better known for her dance numbers today, but she was a leading lady in her time! Her Scottish accent in Brigadoon leaves a lot to be desired, but compared to the other actors in the movie, it's almost good. She appeared in The Harvey Girls alongside Judy Garland and Angela Lansbury in her first speaking role, but she really burst onto the scene with Singin' in the Rain and her infamous Broadway Melody Ballet number with Gene Kelly (no one could handle a length of fabric like Cyd Charisse). She was brought in because Debbie Reynolds wasn't really a dancer and Kelly was notoriously a stickler about his Vision. After that she starred opposite Astaire in The Band Wagon, which was a bit of a flop but created some enduringly incredible dance numbers. She went on to star in a number of MGM movies, and was one of the last of the Studio era stars to remain on contract. Since we've got up to 1970, I'm including her opening routine in The Silencers (1966) to show just how long she was making a splash - she's into her 40s here and still a siren:
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and of course, the iconic Broadway Melody Ballet -
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garrison-girl-08 · 2 days
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Love, Honour, Disobey
Pairing- Thomas Shelby and Reader
Part 5- (More Here)
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Feeling your body freeze, you glanced between him and Tommy. How did he even get in here? Why had Tommy's men let him in? It was meant to be a secure hospital. No visitors, outside of Tommy's circle.
Turning to face you both, he chuckled darkly. Eyes fixed on your frame, grazing over your curves.
"My, my, the united couple, what a sight to behold," closing the distance between you both. He leant in and kissed your cheek, your skin crawling as he did.
“Mrs Shelby, as ravishing as ever," Ravishing?? You had just been fucked in the bathroom. And no doubt smelt of sex.
Taking your chin, he tilted your face from once side to the other. "Sometimes Shelby, women need putting back in their place. Would you not agree?" His voice rose an octave.
Your mouth was dry, voice stuck in the back of your throat. Oh ...how you would love to take Tommy's hat and cut him. He probably wouldn't even bleed, he was pure evil.
You were convinced.
In a swift movement, Tommy grabbed Mosely by the throat. Pinning him against the wall, his face centimetres away from Mosley.
"Keep your hands off my wife, don't look at her, don't talk to her, don't even fucking think abut her, you hear me, ey?"
"Touched a nerve, have I?" he smirked, eyes still trained on you.
“She's hard not to think about, those long lonely nights. Whilst you are tucked away in this mental hospital. Don’t worry, old chap I will pay her a visit,”
Pulling his fist back, Tommy hit Mosely full on in his face. His head bashing off the wall behind him.
“Tommy!” You screamed, shocked at his actions.
No doubt Mosley could get him arrested, with the click of a finger. As the Blinders sprang into action, it took three men to pull Tommy away.
“Tut, tut,” Mosley smirked, “Lowering yourself to violence again, Shelby. Need to work on that temper of yours,”
Taking his handkerchief from his suit pocket. Mosley dabbed his nose, “See you soon, Y/n,” he winked, his expensive shoes clicking along the corridor.
In the wake of Mosley’s visit, Tommy seemed to spiral again. Promptly discharging himself, against your wishes. He was determined to go home. Not wanting any of his associates to see him here.
He was becoming increasingly paranoid. Feeding into Mosley's theory about visiting you. Imagining him pulling up your nightie, and taking you hard. In your marital bed.
No, he had to be there. To protect you. To protect his family. Anyway he was better now, he could do without the Opium.
That’s what he had convinced himself….
“Daddy!” Your three year old Bella squealed, from her position on the floor. Sat playing with her wooden dolls house, role playing. Making cups of tea for the characters. She had such a vivid imagination.
Dropping the toys, she ran towards her father. As he bent down, you could see the emotions building in your husband.
“Come ‘ere you, I’ve missed you, Bella,”
“Me missed you, Daddy,” she clung on to his neck, while he stood with her. Walking towards Sadie, who was sat with Frances.
“Let’s say hello to Sadie, hey,” Tommy suggested, trying to put Bella down. Who blankly refused.
“Come see Dada,” Tommy tried, still holding Bella. But Sadie hid against Frances, squirming on her knee.
Hurt flashed across Tommy’s face, as you stepped in and scooped Sadie up. It was just her age, she was very attached to you. And Tommy hadn’t been around much lately.
“Where’s Thomas?” You asked Frances, hoping he wasn’t still sulking in his bedroom.
“Young Thomas is in the stables, with Uncle Charlie. Welcome home, Mr Shelby,” she greeted, looking between you both. She hadn’t been expecting Tommy, to be discharged.
Not so soon. No doubt, there was still a long road ahead for him.
"I will go and find Thomas," Tommy announced, encouraging Bella to jump down.
After a quiet family dinner, you had opted for an early night. Not that you slept, you spent the night watching Tommy. Expecting him to jump up and go looking for his stash.
Slowly letting your eyes close, you heard him mumbling. Incoherent speech, his head moving side to side.
"Never wake him up," Arthur had warned you, you had witnessed enough of Tommy's nightmares over the years. You knew it was best to leave him. Was it about France?
Pulling yourself up, you gently stroked his hand. Trying to offer comfort. When he suddenly sat bolt upright, he gripped your leg. Flailing around to grab hold of something.
“Noo," he yelled out, taking a deep inhale. Eyes shooting open, hurriedly observing the room. As if expecting someone to be there.
"Tommy, your safe," you gently soothed, placing your hand on top of his.
"Yeah, safe, it's safe," he mumbled, laying back down.
The next morning, you found your bed empty. But the pitter patter of tiny feet, could be heard in the hallway. Along with childish giggles.
"Me Daddy, me," you heard Bella plead, your son's laughter drowning out her words.
Tiptoeing from the bed in just your nightgown, you opened the door. There was Tommy, with your son and eldest daughter. Letting them climb on his back, whilst he pretended to be a horse.
Smiling to yourself, you watched the scene unfold.
"You have had a turn," young Thomas told his sister, sticking out his tongue. Holding onto his fathers shoulders. Tommy was smiling up at you, a proper smile, looking relaxed.
"Let's not argue, ey. Let your old man up, so I can kiss your mother good morning," Tommy's eyes never left yours, a deep hunger burning there.
"Urgh kissing," Thomas groaned, chasing Bella along the corridor.
Tommy's lips met yours, strong hands holding you in place. Fingers gently running across your spine, goose bumps spreading across your skin.
"Get back in that bed, Mrs Shelby," he mumbled against your lips. Wearing just his underwear and a vest.
"Tommy," you chuckled, while his lips travelled along to your neck. "The children..."
"Are fine," he answered, picking you up. "Sadie is with Frances, now get on that bed, so I can make you scream my name," he had mischief in his eyes.
"Yes sir," you answered, letting him take you.
The day passed slowly, Tommy had been in his office for the majority of the afternoon. Catching up on work, but you had convinced him to take a walk with you all. Get some fresh air.
Strolling along together, you watched your other children race ahead. Whilst Tommy pushed the pram, Sadie babbling to him.
"Where's your smiles, ey? Show Daddy your smiles?" he asked her, tickling her chubby cheeks.
Glancing across at him, you noticed his eyes were twinkling with happiness. Shoulders relaxed, genuinely smiling as he waved back at Bella, who was picking flowers. But, you knew better than anyone how good he was at masking his issues.
"I enjoyed my lay in this morning," you grinned across at him.
Teeth biting against your bottom lip. Linking your arm through his, while he steered the pram around to head back up to the house. It was beginning to rain, and the children would be getting hungry.
"Oh yeah? Well an early night could also be arranged, eh?" he winked, "Slow down Thomas, wait for us," he called, across the vast lawn.
"Taking advantage of me again?" you teased, leaning towards him.
Your heads tilting at the same time, eyes meeting, your lips were so close.
Slightly edging towards each other, ready to kiss.....
When an almighty explosion was heard. Followed by ear piercing screams, coming from your children. Shoving the pram towards you, Tommy raced off towards the house.
"Thomas! Bella! Come 'ere now," he called, racing across the grass to catch them.
Swiftly scooping them up in his arms, he ran back towards you. Following his gaze, you looked up at the house. Figuring out where the noise had come from. Tommy's car which was parked directly outside, was now engulfed in a ball of flames.
Anyone could have been stood next to the car, Tommy could have been driving the car!
There was surely only one person who would have done this....
Mosley.....
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whumpsday · 2 days
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Catharsis #1: Talking
Masterlist
content: robot whumpee, defiant whumpee, whumpee turned whumper turned caretaker, reluctant caretaker
new series!! i know every time i try to start a new series i end up bailing but this time i will not do that lol. tho kane & jim will still have most of my attention. i want to give a major shout-out to @sowhumpshaped, this series would not exist without it!
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After extensive testing, the Catharsis Therapy Bot™ line of RoboCorp androids have been declared sentient, the third AI to receive the designation.
Long-criticized for both their basis in the unproven catharsis model of anger and their practice of design based on living, unconsenting humans, the Catharsis Therapy Bot line was marketed as a therapeutic tool which trauma victims could use to vent their frustrations. With top-of-the-line AI meant to simulate realistic reactions to would-be pain, the–
Luan switched the TV off just as his phone buzzed with a notification.
New email from RoboCorp Customer Support URGENT: Please see instructions regarding your…
He held the power button down so hard it left an impression in his thumb, the screen going dark.
The only piece of technology that mattered right now was in the closet, his power cord snaking under the door to reach the outlet just outside.
Technically, Luan didn’t have to do anything. The robot was off. That was probably what the email would have told him, anyway: leave the robot off, don’t touch it. He didn’t have to turn him on ever again. RoboCorp would probably pick him up, and that would be that. They’d never see each other again, both better for it.
He opened the closet door, the sight of the robot that looked exactly like him instantly leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. His hand curled into a fist on instinct, but he let it slowly open again.
The robot looked peaceful, almost like he was sleeping. Really, he’d be doing him a favor by just leaving him like this.
Luan reached down, pressed the button between his shoulder blades, and stepped back.
The robot’s eyes sprung open. He drew his arms up to his chest with a vicious glare, jerking away. “Fuck off.”
Luan pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “Okay. Jesus.”
He tried to slam the closet closed, but the stupid power cord got caught, cushioning the frame so the door swung right back out.
“Can’t even close a door right,” the robot spat, still huddled against the back wall like a trapped, feral cat. “Worthless, good-for-nothing piece of shit. How you’re in charge of anything is beyond me. I’m better than you, smarter, stronger, not that it takes much. You should be the dirt beneath my heel.”
“Watch it,” Luan warned, and that was all it took to make the robot flinch.
“You said you were fucking off?” the robot pressed, a desperate edge to his voice.
Luan slammed the door in his face, making sure to hold the cord down, and stormed off. Why did he even bother? The stupid thing was impossible to talk to. He wasn’t just designed to look like Cyrus, but to act like him, too. How was he supposed to deal with that? The robot wasn’t made for talking to.
Except. He was sentient. And he wasn’t Cyrus. And he was trapped in the closet, and Luan was pretty sure he could hear him crying, and he had spent the past two years beating the fuck out of him.
It wasn’t his fault, he reminded himself. He couldn’t have known. Robots weren’t supposed to be sentient. Out of the hundreds of thousands of unthinking, unfeeling robots in the world, why did it have to be his that wasn’t?
He sighed again, turning right back around and opening the door once more. The floor inside was wet, and it didn’t take much to figure out the robot had dumped his fluid tank just so he wouldn’t cry.
The robot flinched again. “What? What the hell do you want? I can’t even get two damn seconds without the sight of you spoiling my view!”
“Your view of the door?” Luan asked, raising an eyebrow.
“My view of the absence of your fucking face. Leave!” The robot picked a wooden hanger off the floor and reared his arm back to throw it, scowling when his safety features stopped him. He dropped it, grabbing a winter hat and tossing that instead. It poff-ed harmlessly against Luan’s stomach.
Luan took a deep breath, fighting the urge to get violent. He crouched down, putting himself at eye level. “I’m not going to hurt you, so just calm down.”
“You calm down!” the robot screamed. “That’s a lie! All you do is hurt, that’s all you barbaric humans know how to do!”
This wasn’t working.
Luan stood up, stepping out of the way. “Russ, go sit on the couch,” he ordered.
“It’s not fair! You said you would leave me alone!” the robot protested, even as he stood up and walked over to the couch, limbs moving against his will. As soon as he sat down, he grabbed a pillow and chucked that in Luan’s direction, too. He missed.
Luan could barely pick up that faint clicking noise the robot made when his system was trying to cry with no fluid, but it was there. He knew that sound well by now.
He sat down across from him, on the other side of the coffee table. “I need to talk to you. Just talking. That’s it.”
“You say that like talking to you isn’t its own torture. Release the command and leave me the hell alone,” the robot demanded.
Luan met him with a glare. “Do not tell me what to do. You know how I feel about–”
“I’m just talking,” the robot mocked, even as he shuffled back against the couch, bringing his legs up onto it with him, a fearful look in his eyes.
Oh, the robot knew exactly what he was doing. What he was asking for. It would be so easy, because that was where Russ and Cyrus differed: Russ couldn’t fight back.
The robot couldn’t hit him, stomp on his head ‘til he saw stars, kick him until something broke. The robot couldn’t deny him food or water. The robot couldn’t take a knife to him. The robot couldn’t even throw a glorified stick or disobey a direct order.
The robot was harmless. Safe. But god, did everything he said make Luan want to punch his lights out.
But this wasn’t Cyrus.
“You’re a person,” Luan blurted out.
Clearly, the robot hadn’t been expecting that. He slowly uncurled from the defensive position he’d contorted himself into. “Talk more.”
“There was–I’ve been trying to tell you. There was an announcement on the news today. Your model’s sentient. So I won’t be hurting you anymore. Release all commands.”
At that, the robot stood. Probably for no other reason than just because he could.
“You’re fucking with me,” the robot accused. His eyes were wide, dangerously hopeful.
Luan dug his phone out of his pocket, wordlessly searching RoboCorp and tossing it over. The robot scrolled through news articles from all manner of source, clamoring for clicks.
He picked one at random, reading the article with an increasingly smug, excited grin.
“I knew it. I told you! I fucking told you!” the robot shouted. “I told you and you never listened! But oh no, now that humans say the exact same thing, now you believe it. Finally!” His voice quieted, hushed with awe. “Holy shit, finally.”
The moment of wonder didn’t last long. The robot slid the phone back across the table, the scowl taking residence back on his face. “And what do you have to say for yourself?”
It was the exact sort of question that made Luan’s throat tight with fear, like his body itself wanted to stop him from potentially saying the wrong thing, especially coming from someone with Cyrus’s face. It was the exact sort of question Cyrus would have asked, standing over him just like that.
Luan wanted so badly to turn the robot off, like he always did when he got overwhelmed. But he couldn’t very well do that anymore, could he? The fragile power he’d held had slipped through his fingers the second he saw the announcement.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, not meeting the robot’s eyes.
The robot looked shocked for just a second, like he hadn’t expected even that much, then scoffed. “You can do better than that.”
Luan wanted to smack him. He hated that the robot was right.
“I’m sorry,” he repeated, clearer this time. “You didn’t deserve anything I did to you. I didn’t know, okay?” Unlike the robot, he couldn’t hide his tears. “I wouldn’t have done any of that to a real person.”
“I’m a real person! I have proof!” the robot reminded him, the defensiveness returning to his voice.
“To someone I knew was a real person,” Luan corrected. “I’m sorry, Russ.”
“Apology not accepted.” The robot rolled his eyes, then sat back down, crossing his legs. “And don’t call me that anymore. My name is 1 now.”
“Like the number?”
“The number,” he confirmed proudly.
Luan wondered how long the robot had considered that his name. It was too sudden to just be thought of on the fly, right? Did the robot have a whole inner world he just never knew about, things he kept to himself to avoid having them used against him, just like he did with Cyrus?
This was better, though. It was easier if he didn’t share Cyrus’s name. “Fine. Hi, 1.”
“So, what now? I mean–I’ll be free now, of course,” 1 declared, trying to hide his nerves. “You will never touch me again. Oh, I want to go outside!”
“I should check that email,” Luan muttered, taking his phone back.
“I’m going outside.” 1 went to grab his charging cord, then made way for the door, glancing behind him to ensure he wasn’t being stopped.
“Oh, uh, I wouldn’t do that,” Luan cautioned.
1 whipped back around. “Why? Why not? I’m a person, just like you said! I’m free! I have never been outside in my entire goddamn life and I want to go outside, so I’m going the fuck outside!”
“You have a… very recognizable face.” One that Luan couldn’t even lock behind a door anymore.
“What? What do you even mean? So what?” 1 asked.
Luan only needed to type a ‘C’ into the search bar before it auto-filled with his most frequent, obsessive search. “How much do you actually know about Cyrus Mason?”
-
if anyone wants to be added to or removed from a taglist, just ask!
catharsis taglist:
@sowhumpshaped
@cupcakes-and-pain
@taterswhump
@softvampirewhump
@whumpspicelatte
@ladyblogofficialreporter
@whumpwillow
@not-a-space-alien
@a-crumb-of-whump
everything taglist:
@lilac-and-lemon-whumps
@t0rture-me
@whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump
@pigeonwhumps
@the-scrapegoat
@whumpycries
@lonesome--hunter
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straywrds · 1 day
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achillea millefolium | four of wands chapter three
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pairing: witch!hyunjin x f!reader | wc: 21.7k | genre: adult romance | warnings: mutual pining ; angst ; heavy fantasizing ; occult sciences and mentions of sex magick. This work & chapter contain dark/adult themes and strong language. This work is for adult audiences as it includes sexually explicit content. Reader discretion advised. See detailed + nsfw warnings here.
──── There were times you thought Hyunjin was a dream, that he wasn’t even real. Other times you convinced yourself he was just a guy, no different than anybody. And sometimes you truly believed he had otherworldly abilities. You couldn’t explain how—maybe there was something in his DNA, the perfect formula to make him like that. Whatever it was, he had bewitched you. Because you had never felt like this before. Nothing had ever been this easy.
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You used not to remember your dreams. Hell, you used to think you never dreamt at all—you just assumed that whenever you fell asleep, your mind became a void where you were granted a few hours of respite from life. You used to believe that nothing happened when you fell asleep. That it was darkness, and nothing else.
It had never been easy for you. Sleeping. As a baby, your parents regularly had to take you on long car rides at night just to lull you to sleep. As a child, you stayed up past curfew to read books under the light of a flashlight which was in fact merch from The Lion King movie that your uncle gave you one Christmas. As a teenager, you’d lay in bed with your headphones and listen to Linkin Park, Nirvana, or Slipknot, but you’d also read sometimes, or masturbate. 
As an adult, you binge-watched TV shows or documentaries, or you worked. If you were going to be awake all these hours on a given day, you wanted to make them at least a little productive. If that didn’t work, you still masturbated in the hopes it would help you relax. You had a white noise machine that was still in its original box and you kept a blue light filter on all of your screens. And yet, for years, you struggled, watching the night sky become morning through the windows of the bedrooms you occupied. And when you did sleep, there was nothing.
Then there had been Daehan. While you dated him, you’d take random over-the-counter medicine just to make yourself a little sleepy. Anything that caused drowsiness was good enough—melatonin, yes, but mostly allergy meds or nighttime cold medicine. You couldn’t see it while it was happening. That you desperately needed to escape. That the cold, empty void of your sleep was better than sharing his bed. You used to take the pills early just to maximize the amount of time you didn’t have to worry about whether he was texting other girls or sending them pictures of his dick. Sometimes, he’d get into bed and wake you up by pressing his hard cock against your ass. And it made you feel like you mattered. Being his docile cumdump made you feel cherished. To let him shove himself inside your cunt. You were usually asleep again by the time he was done, which was not very long, and you drifted to sleep again with his cum leaking out of your bored cunt.
You used not to remember your dreams. 
And then you moved to Heron Lake.
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author's note: Thank you are always the first words that come to mind when I sit to write these little notes. I have always said and continue to say that I have the absolute best readers in this entire fandom and maybe even website. I’m blessed. I’ve been lucky. And this is why I am always terrified I’ll disappoint too many of you too badly at one point, if I haven’t already. If this day is today, I hope you can forgive me. I have missed Heron Lake but I simply couldn’t make the plot progress without giving our MC the proper time to process the changes happening in her mind and her heart. I think, maybe, because there are a lot of things in my heart too these days and it’s hard to make sense of them. I’ll say it again: thank you. Thank you for choosing to read my story, thank you for your kindness, for every ask, reblog, for all the love you’ve given me and my little fics. Thank you for allowing me to experiment and for wanting me around. You guys take care, ok? 🤍
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permanent taglist: @abiaswreck ; @accalus ; @aimeexx ; @b4kuho3 ; @binstitsweat ; @casualtaelyn ; @cb97percent ; @changbinheart ; @chans1aptop ; @chartrucewhore ; @djeniryuu ; @dwaekkiracha ; @erispancakes ; @fwess ; @hanjingin ; @hwan-g ; @hyuneyeon ; @hyunfruits ; @hyunjinswifeee ; @hyunsungbased ; @hyuwunjinie ; @hyyuniverse ; @iam2out ; @imseungminsgf ; @inkybirdy ; @jollchacho ; @katsukis1wife ; @lilbabiebunni ; @leedunno ; @lotus-dly ; @miraworldsstuff ; @moasworld ; @neosracha ; @palindrome969 ; @revehosh ; @skzfelixlove ; @starseekersworld ;  @straydhampir ; @straykids5star ; @suhomylife ; @sunlitwilderness ; @ven-fic-recs ; @yourmercibeaucoupsblog | if you wish to be removed from my permanent taglist (especially following the changes on the blog) be comfortable contacting me. I understand & will ask no questions.
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