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#I feel like that's something he more personally cares about
bandgie · 2 days
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Free Use - Hyung Line
warnings: MDNI 18+, fem!reader, !!free-use is legal and public!!, public sex (duhhh), dry humping, gangbangs (implied), pussy easting, sex photography, reader is called slut
notes: longer version of this ask! to be clear, this is a free-use society so if you're not comfortable with that, don't read it pls! thanks :)
BANGCHAN! - even if it's completely legal to fuck you in public, chan can't bring himself to. your moans, whimpers, cries... those are for his ears (and maybe a few close friends) but that doesn't mean he won't do a few things - main one is arguably dry humping. standing behind you while waiting in a line for some boba and his hands settle on your hips. it's cute at first, but his grip tightens. you'll arch your back further into him because you know what he wants, you can feel it. - he grinds his hips softly on your ass. guiding his cock over your body before sliding it out to put it between your thighs. He breathlessly moans in your ear, one hand moving to grope your chest over your shirt. if he gets really into it, chan will push your head down once you make it to the counter and rut into you like he's actually fucking you and still order. - another that's more intense is when he's working in the studio. he's got you pretty and nice on his lap. Changbin and Han are so used to you riding his thigh that they hardly notice your moans anymore. - no shorts, no underwear. just your bare pussy on his leg while you hump him desperately. in a way, this is more degrading since people will come in and out of the studio, asking for adjustments and adding things to the schedule acting like they can't see you rocking your hips on his flexed thigh. but it still doesn't stop you from quietly pleading for his friends to have a turn too.
"I dunno, babe. I've got a lot of work. Why don't you keep doing this and if you're a good girl, I'll think about it."
MINHO! - total opposite of chan, he is 100% fucking you in public. everyone needs to see how much a slut you are, how much you love being fucked no matter the time of day. just cuz he's a little shit, minho will purposely fuck you in places you're supposed to be quiet. on a bus, a train, the library, the possibilities are endless - the bus though? his favorite. there's so many eyes silently watching him bounce you on his lap. all his has to do is tap his thigh and you know to lift your skirt up and sink onto his cock. no underwear on because why would you? - he wants you to be loud, he wants the people around you to join in. to twist your nipples and shove fingers in your mouth. some people will look at you with disgust wondering why mandated free use is even legal. most will be jealous though, asking minho if you're up for grabs or if you're personal use - and when it's finally your stop, he'll slide out of you and feel the way your pussy clings onto him. a few people might follow you guys until he stops at an alleyway (he has some decency) and bends you over the air.
"You can use any hole you want, but her pussy's mine."
CHANGBIN! - you're public free-use when he first meets you. there's just something about your moans, the way you move your hips, the aroused look in your eye. changbin doesn't usually engage with mandated free-use sluts but you catch his eye right at the start - he'll frequent at the place you do service at and watch most of the time. jerking himself off at the same pace you're bouncing on a cock. but he'll work up the courage and finally take you like he's been wanting to, flipping you around to get a up close view of your face - gosh, you're perfect. fucked out expression, swollen lips, cum dripping down your pretty body. how has no one made you a personal slut yet? changbin taps his fat tip on your clit, watching your body vibrate in overstimulated pleasure - he takes a long time, the people behind him growing impatient, but he doesn't care. you deserve to be praised, to be cherished. your walls are so soft and warm when he slides in, most likely from the previous people fucking you endlessly, but changbin hardly minds the fact. he presses his cock deep in you, feeling your pussy spasm and clench. and when he slides out? he gets to see all of your cream coating his length.
"So pretty. Pretty, pretty girl. You're not personal yet, right? Binnie will take care of you. Binnie can make you feel like this everyday."
HYUNJIN! - even though you're the one who's free-use, hyunjin acts like he is. he always worships you, in or out of the bedroom. he'll bring you to his photoshoots and surprises you with being photographed! the makeup artists and hair dresses doll you up so nice and pretty. you look beautiful, how can Hyunjin stay away? - with the cameras shuttering, he'll get on his knees and hook one of your legs over his shoulder. peeling the dress up to expose your sweet cunt. the makeup artists will scowl since the'll have to redo it and the hairdressers groan when you thread your fingers through his carefully styled hair, but he doesn't care - the photographers will make the best of what they can. there's no use in trying to pry Hyunjin away from you. your pussy tastes too sweet, too inviting on his tongue. so you'll be able to hear the rapid clicks of cameras and see the flashes of light while orgasming in his mouth - it's definitely a little strange to see yourself on the front cover of a magazine with hyunjin between your legs, but it's even stranger that it looks good!
"You look like an angel. You're shy? Don't be shy! You're beautiful, everyone needs to see that."
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thehighladywrites · 3 days
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— “Okay, but in what way do you love me?”
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☀︎ — pairing: tutor/nerd azriel x bimbo/ditzy reader
☀︎ — summary: It’s confession time! Last night you said you like him but over analyzing azriel needs to know exactly what “like” means.
☀︎ — warnings: 18+, mdni, smut, confessions, creampie, fluff, azriel needs clarification even though you are VERY clear
☀︎ — amara’s note: pls enjoy and lemme know what u think💗 also sorry for it being short it’s only bc i’m posting another drabble very soon, and it’s a personal favorite 👀💗
series masterlist
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“Why are you staring at me, Az? Is there something on my face?” you ask panicked as you grab your hand mirror on his desk and check your flawless face
Azriel's gaze softens as he speaks, “No, there's nothing on your beautiful face. I just like looking at you. And, I want to ask you something.”
You exhale calmly, pleased with your appearance, as you turn your body towards him, jewelry jangling.
His stomach feels leaden, and he feels nauseous. What if your version of "like" and his version of "like" aren't the same? What if you say you like him, but only in a friendly way?
You are miles out of his league, but he's not complaining. You actually make him happy and mushy when you call and ask him to go on little shopping trips with you, and it’s even better when you let him fuck your brains out from time to time. But he is in love, like deeply fucking in love.
“Okay. Do you recall—remember yesterday when you said you liked me? Do you want to clarify what that means? Why do you like me?”
The question makes you tilt your head in confusion, brows drawing in curiosity as you pull the strawberry-flavored lollipop from your mouth, resulting in a loud pop, lips covered in a thin layer of sticky, red residue.
“Wait, huh? What do you mean, Azzie? I don’t like you, I love you.”
Oh my fucking god, what? Okay, so he was literally about to throw the fuck up but he was a little hesitant to respond. Azriel couldn't help but think about the meaning behind your words. You were always so bubbly and affectionate, even with strangers. Did your "I love you" hold the same weight every time, or was it just another sprinkle of your charm?
“Okay, I hear you but in what way do you love me? Do you mean it as a friend or—?” He questions behind his glasses.
Azriel had, for the first time ever, brought you to his dorm. You were just laying in bed next to him but decided to straddle his lying body, smiling as his hands automatically held your thighs.
“No silly! I loooove you and I want you to be my boyfriend. You’re so hot and sweet and kind and you care about me, like a lot. Always keepin’ me outta trouble and kissing me too. You love me too tho, right?” You gaze down at him, your big doe eyes shimmering with hope, and your glossy bottom lip slightly quivering.
Love you? He was almost insanely obsessed with you. There was something about you that drove him crazy. How could he not love you? He gives you an assuring nod, all of your previous worries disappearing in an instant. “Yeah, I do. I love you too. So much.”
“That’s so adorable, gimme a kiss.” You puckered your lips, the sweet scent of your Burberry Her Elixir filling his senses.
He tries to remove his glasses, but you stop him with a swat. “No, keep ‘em on,” you insist between kisses.
To no one’s surprise you were bent over his desk, getting fucked stupid as he made you list what you loved about him.
Maybe it was a little mean since you couldn’t focus, your fuzzy brain filled with pleasure, but Azriel wanted to know anyway.
“more,” he gasps, “n-need more—gimme more, sweetheart.”
So you did, saying everything you loved about him. Every single detail.
“I love it when you make me breakfast— fuck, and—and when you carry me whenever i want. ‘m so close, az,” you sob—and then, just as his thumb finds your clit again, rubbing desperate little circles to get you over the edge, you cum — harder than ever, spasming around his cock and pulling him in as you squeeze around him.
“a-azzie,” you gasp brokenly, “fuck, ‘s good—so good.”
“you’re so perfect. prettiest girl i’ve laid my fucking eyes on —prettiest pussy ever too. i, sh-shit—” he falls into his own orgasm, hot, thick ropes of cum spilling into you with every twitch of his cock, sweet little noises pulled from his throat that he sighs into your neck, fucking his load into you.
“Holy shit,” Azriel mutters before he kisses the back of your head, the biggest trail of cum he’s ever seen leaking out of you when he pulls out.
“I wanna go again, please Az, let—let me ride. I’ll tell you more things I love,” you lock eyes with him over your shoulder, a smirk playing at your lips.
Azriel obviously doesn’t deny. He’s happy someone for once in his life wants to tell him how much they love him. Especially when that someone is his first and last girlfriend💗.
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lucyandalexiafan · 2 days
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I'm scared | Alexia Putellas x Reader | part 2
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summary: first time that Alexia and reader talk about sex (specifically: masturbation) after the walk.
warnings: angst, allusion to past sexual abuses. really light smut moment (r comes home early and sees Alexia have orgasm using a vibrator).
words: 3k
Part 1
When you had spoken to Alexia about your past, about those experiences, you hadn't expected her to be so understanding and engaged in helping you.
Even though you knew she was a sweet person, kind, and in some way you knew she loved you, or was starting to develop strong feelings for you, up until that day you had believed she wouldn't stay with you once she found out what had happened to you.
Alexia is beautiful, charming, loved by hundreds of thousands of people; she's the captain of Spain and Barcelona, which means she's surrounded by beautiful women, a lot of them probably much more predisposed to have sex with her and much less anxious about it. She's famous, so not only fans and other footballers would want something with her, but also other celebrities, like models or actresses or singers.
Alexia doesn't just play football, she's also a football activist, a model and she works with some brands, which means she works in contexts that allow her to meet many (beautiful) women.
All these things had made it difficult for you to think that she would stay after that walk.
She took you home once you had returned to the car because the next day she had to go to Madrid for work with Nike. Before getting out of the car, you had kissed her and, thinking it was the last time, you had tried to imprint the image of Alexia so close to your face in your memory. You thought you wouldn't see her again and that she wouldn't contact you anymore, that she would ghost you or break up with you by message.
You had spent that night sleepless, tears flowing heavily from your eyes and nausea that had forced you to sit on the bathroom floor for a few hours, the retching had painfully contracted your body several times during those hours. Even though you hated yourself every time you did it, you kept checking your phone hoping to see a notification from her, a message, a post sent on Instagram or TikTok, and the more time passed, the more you received no news from her, the more nausea and the tears increased, the more you believed you had lost her forever.
Yet, the next day, the sound of the doorbell had woken you up. You had struggled to get out of bed, the headache was killing you and your back seemed to be broken in two by the pain, the sweat covering your forehead was a symptom of yet another nightmare that had invaded your sleep. 
You looked at the video intercom and saw a delivery man. "Yes, who's there?" you had asked, your voice hoarse, ruined by crying.
"Hello, I'm from Bakery Adele, I was told I have to deliver this order to this address" the delivery guy had replied, his voice annoyingly shrill, before asking for confirmation of identity.
You had told him he could leave it at the concierge and that you would come down later, but he had persuaded you by saying there was a piping hot double espresso cappuccino and a freshly baked cream-filled brioche waiting for you.
You had put on a jacket that was hanging on the coat rack, a jacket of Alexia, and had gone down. The delivery guy handed you the breakfast, a little note attached to the package, and then said goodbye.
Bakery Adele doesn't do deliveries, never.
Once you had entered the house, you had opened the note, and tears had returned when you had read it.
"I thought of ordering your favorite breakfast from your bakery. Whenever you feel like it, if you want, write to me or call me, I'm always here. I miss you, but I'll wait for you to feel ready to talk to me. Alexia <3"
Tears, tears, and more tears.
You had bitten your lip as you grabbed your phone to video call her. You didn't care about the condition of your face or your hair at that moment, you only cared about seeing if it was true, if she was sincere. You had spent the whole night thinking she hadn't written to you because she didn't want to talk to you anymore, only to find out she was waiting for you?
"Amor," her voice, her sweet voice, invaded the deafening silence of your home.
"Ale-" you had replied trying to articulate a sentence, but inevitably ending up crying.
"What's wrong, amor? Are you okay?" she was worried, her eyebrows furrowed and her eyes squinted.
"I thought you didn't want me anymore and now the breakfast has arrived and I don't understand and-" You start speaking quickly, thoughts overlapping in your mind one after another, as you try to express yourself, to tell her how confused you feel right now.
"Take a breath, amor breath with me. Did you think I wouldn't call you? - you shook your head - Amor, I told you I'm in love with you, why would I leave you?"
You hadn't talked much, actually, because she was about to enter the store and there was a lot of confusion, but she had called you back that evening.
And the day after, and the day after that, until she had shown up at your house with takeout Chinese food.
A couple of days after she returned, you had asked if you could talk, if you could talk about what had happened. You knew that the best idea would have been to go to her place, a place from which it would have been easy to run away from her if things didn't go as you hoped, and not to your place, where Alexia could have stayed even against your will; but the emotional comfort you felt being in your own home was crucial to be able to talk to her, to face the situation.
You were at your home, on the couch: you were sitting cross-legged, your hands holding hers, and you had told her that you understood if this thing was bigger than her, if she didn't want to wait for some time to do something sexual, but you had also told her that a part of you would have wanted her to stay because you wanted to face this thing with her, that you truly wanted to face it.
Alexia, hesitant, had told you, after a while of talking, that she thought it was appropriate for you to start a therapy process, maybe also to go to therapy together, because only then could you fully face the trauma. She also made sure to tell you that if you couldn't afford it continuously over time or with the right frequency, she would help you financially because, yes, facing it, but with the right psychologist. Shyly, she had told you that she had done a couple of searches on the best psychologists in Barcelona for this type of trauma and had found one really good, and that she would also be available to do couple therapy.
You had told her you would think about it and a few days later you had contacted one of the psychologists on her list.
The initial doubts about her seriousness in being faithful to you and not seeking anyone else for sexual satisfaction surfaced when she left for a National Team camp, and they exploded when you thought she was cheating on you with Jenni. The endless social media edits you continued to see fueled the doubt that perhaps, while genuinely attempting to complete the therapeutic journey, she was seeking to fulfill her sexual desire with someone else in secret.
At the third couple's therapy session after that camp, you addressed the issue. You had resignedly told her that you wanted to know if she was with other women, that you would understand but needed to know. She was shocked. She had told you multiple times that she only wanted you, that she would wait for you, that she didn't want anyone else, that she didn't want Jenni.
You had discussed it several times in therapy over the next two weeks, and even outside of therapy, but Alexia always said the same thing: I will wait for you, I want you.
The doubts had more or less disappeared when few weeks later you caught her having an orgasm with a vibrator while she thought you were still out. You were on holiday in the Canary Islands, you had gone out to do some shopping and go to an open-air market while she was sleeping, and you had left her a message saying you wouldn't be back in two hours; too bad the open-air market was on Thursday, not Tuesday, so you had returned after a little over half an hour. 
As soon as you entered the house, you heard moans and silently approached the bedroom, only to see her in the middle of the bed, her hand between her legs and a buzzing sound in the background accompanying her moans. 
You froze in place, not knowing what to do, or what to say. 
You didn't even know she had a vibrator. You hadn't really thought about it, actually.
You hadn't even had time to think about how to react because shortly after she reached the peak of pleasure, so you quickly moved towards the door, opened and closed it more loudly, pretending you had just entered. You didn't know why you did it, maybe you thought it would be easy to pretend you hadn't seen her, but you were wrong, especially for two reasons: seeing her climax had made you incredibly horny and you couldn't remove the image of her having an orgasm from your mind, so you couldn't even look her in the eyes.
Alexia had sensed something was wrong and asked you if everything was okay at dinner, when she asked if she had done something wrong. You almost choked on the water you were drinking, your cheeks suddenly burning, as you tried to come up with some excuses, only to give in.
"Amor, I don't know how to say it - you lowered your gaze, embarrassed to admit it, afraid she would get angry - I... today I came home earlier than you think and I-I saw you-"
"Fuck - Alexia exclaimed bluntly - Amor, I'm sorry, I... it shouldn't have happened, I thought you'd be back later," her tone suddenly guilty, as if masturbating were a fault.
"Are you sorry? - you asked, looking her in the eyes, and she nodded, her face red with embarrassment - But... why?"
Her expression became confused. "I-you weren't supposed to see me, I don't want you to think-"
"Since when you do it?" you asked, then realized the stupidity of the question when the older woman tilted her head to the side; you tried to change the subject, but she asked you to talk about it, to ask her, because it was important for her that you talked about it.
"Do you want to know if I've been doing it since we started dating or when I started doing it in general?" her tone was so calm, so relaxed, that you trusted her, trusted that she really just wanted to talk about it.
That was the first time you had talked so specifically about your sexual life, at least hers. 
She had told you she lost her virginity to a girl when she was fifteen, started using sex toys at sixteen, that throughout her relationship with Jenni they had been an integral part of the relationship, but she started using them less when she broke up with her because at that point she was having a lot of casual sex.
"I had sex with other women before I met you, both occasional and steady partners, so I didn't really need to use them to have an orgasm. Then we met, the relationship became serious and we started dating, so I stopped seeing other people, and when I realized we wouldn't have sex, I started using them more often. Since you told me about your past, I've started using them frequently again."
You bit your lip as you listened to her, it was evident that she was hesitant, choosing her words carefully, but at the same time she was so sure, so calm. The calmness with which she spoke about it almost gave you comfort, almost reassured you that she wasn't lying, that what she was saying was true.
"You can ask me anything, amor, none question is stupid."
"Do you do it because we don't have sex?"
She nodded hesitantly. "How does this make you feel? - you raised your eyebrows, confused - I don't want this thing to make you feel bad."
"It makes sense that you do it - you replied, your tone devoid of negative emotions - We don't have sex and you need to... have an orgasm. Why didn't you tell me?"
She took a sip of water in an attempt to stall. "I... I thought you would take it badly, that you would feel guilty or something, and I didn't want that. I told you I want to wait for you, but I was afraid that if I told you you would think that I necessarily need someone to have sex with or for me to tell you to speed things up - she sighed - But as you saw, my sex toys give me great orgasms and I could go on just with them for years" she continued, trying to relax the tension that had been created with her answer.
You chuckled with her, even though you were sorry she did it in secret, that she did it only when you weren't there, that she was afraid you would take it badly.
It was her first orgasm you had seen, and you had never really thought about the fact that she could be satisfied in other ways than having sex with other people.
"I had never thought that you would seek orgasms in other ways than sex - you simply stated - It's a stupid thing, sorry."
"It's not, actually. We've never talked about this, about maybe masturbating or actually wanting to have sex, regardless of whether we do it or not - the reflective tone, the calm voice - For example, when I feel the need to have an orgasm, use a vibrator because the orgasms I have using it are generally more satisfying than when I just use my fingers; but when I want to have sex, as well as an orgasm, I use my fingers because they feel closer to what I could have having sex with you."
You widened your eyes at the revelation, at how calmly she said it. You knew it was normal for her to be calm, you were glad she talked about it freely, but you didn't expect her to be so sincere.
"I've said too much, sorry. Please forget it," she continued, her voice concerned, her gaze now on the plate, her hands quickly grabbing the fork and knife to put them on the plate.
"No! - you replied, scaring her - Sorry, I don't know how to talk about it, but I'd like to, I like that we talk about it."
There was a pause, Alexia was simply smiling at you, perhaps surprised that you were actually having this conversation, perhaps because she didn't know what to say.
"I masturbate thinking about you," you said, a statement.
The woman in front of you widened her eyes, a choked moan escaped her mouth, the dismay obvious.
"When I do it I-I think about the two of us having sex or-or... doing sexual things - you lowered your gaze, a sense of humiliation invading your body when she said nothing - Please don't be mad at me"
You close your eyes, scared at the idea that she might start yelling that it's disrespectful, that it's wrong for you to do it, or, worse, that she might get up to hurt you, or physically punish you for it.
"Get mad? Why should I get mad? - her voice confused - It's normal for you to masturbate, to seek orgasm."
"Even if it's not with you?" she nodded "It's just that we don't have sex but I masturbate and... doesn't it make you mad?"
Your voice sounded more frightened than you wanted, but it was true that you feared she would get angry. You didn't want to have sex with her, you were afraid to have sex with her, but you touched yourself thinking of her; how could she take it?
"I'm glad you can touch yourself, that at least that part of your sexuality hasn't been broken," she moved her hands towards yours, squeezing them between hers "There's nothing wrong, amor, I'd be a selfish insecure person to think otherwise."
You bit your lip as you looked at her, admiring her. How could she always know what to say, always say the right thing?
"So, did you like to watch me while I touch myself?" you coughed embarrassed, not knowing what to say, or how to explain it.
You had enjoyed watching her come, even though it was by chance and for a short time, even though it was an unexpected thing that shouldn't have happened. The image of her coming, of her orgasm, was imprinted in your mind.
"I- you were just so beautiful when you came. I don't know how to say it, I feel stupid, and- it was like, I don't know - you sighed frustrated - it's just that I wish it were me making you come like that, not a vibrator."
"There's time, amor," she told you.
She was right, there was time, but you wanted to be the one instead of that vibrator.
I'm sorry it took me so long to post this, a few bad things happened and I didn't have the mind to write. this is a text that I wrote about two weeks ago but I only translated it last night; I'm not 100/100 satisfied, but I wanted to introduce a moment of discussion about sex before anything sexual could happen. I dealt with the topic of insecurity and jealousy in a very light way (perhaps superficially) but it seemed like the only way to introduce the moment on holiday. the hardest part for me, and what makes me a little dissatisfied, was trying to figure out whether what I wrote about accidentally seeing Alexia have an orgasm was itself a violation of consent, or could be construed as an accident (which it actually is); I chose to interpret it as an accident that Alexia knew could happen and to avoid the parties considering it a violation of consent. If this seems wrong to you, or will trigger a lot of people, I think I'll revisit this chapter. as usual, thanks for reading what I wrote :)
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satorusugurugurl · 1 day
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JJK Men: FWB? No, I wanna be your boyfriend!
Summary: Your Friends with Beneifit's partner realizes they want to be more!
Characters: Nanami Kento, Geto Suguru, Toji Fushiguro, FAB!Reader
Word Count: 3,957
Warnings: FWB, smut, oral sex, fluffy feelings, public sex
A/N: Ah, FWB, but more. Delicious smut; the brainworms were good to me! 🤣❤️
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Nanami Kento:
Nanami pouted, his eyes focused on your back as some guy flirted with you. He hated seeing other people looking at his best friend like you were just a snack. It made him sick to his stomach. No one would treat you better than him. But you two agreed: friends with benefits, nothing more than that. All because Nanami thought it would help with not ruining your friendship.
And it did. Things were never awkward. You both had sex, got off, and it was perfect! No more creepy Tinder dates for you; Nanami wasn't stressed out as much. Plus, he got to remain friends with you. The arrangement was without flaw. Expect moments like this.
When he saw other people watching you, how you flirted back with the smile that had him raging, he wanted the source of your smile. Usually, when this sort of thing happened, he turned away, but something about this guy had him on edge. He was looking at you like you were a piece of meat, something to take home and fuck. You didn't deserve that. You deserve the best.
“Ooh, they fuckin.” Nanami flushed deep red as he turned to glare at Gojo, who was whispering to Geto.
“Satoru, please, it's rude to assume that,” Geto whispered back, eyeing Nanami. It was when the dark-haired man saw the flush on Nanami’s face and neck that he gaped. “Oh my god, they are fuckin’.”
“Shut up, we're just friends with benefits.”
“Oooh, Suguru, do you want to tell him?”
“Mmm nah, you go ahead, Satoru.”
Gojo leaned forward, smirking at Nanami. “Friends with Benefits don't glare daggers at strangers their FWB is talking to. Not unless they want more~.” With flushed cheeks, Nanako got up, downing the last of his drink. “Ooh, what are you going to do?!”
“Fuck you.”
“Eeeh, sorry buddy, that's Suguru’s job!”
“Satoru.” Geto purred with a smirk.
Nanami could care less about who was fucking who in their relationship. The only person he was concerned with fuckin was you. But not in the way he usually would, no, not anymore.
He stormed towards you, grabbing your wrist gently. The sudden contact had you jumping as Nanami pulled you up. He didn't say a word as he dragged you away from the asshole hitting on you. You were too stunned to speak as Nanami pulled you into the bathroom, taking you to the back stall.
Standing in the corner, you gawked as he locked the stall door. “Okay, what the actual fuck Nanami?” You were slightly annoyed, tapping your shoe against the dirty tile floor. “I was enjoying my conversation with that guy!”
“The guy that looked at you like you were a piece of ass?”
His straightforward response caught you off guard. “Huh?”
“That guy would take you home, fuck you, and never call you back because that’s the type of guy he looks like!”
“Oh? And since when do you concern yourself with my dating life? We're friends, Nanami! You're not my boyfriend!”
“Oh, I'm much more than just a friend!” Nanami crowded you, slamming both hands on the wall on either side of your head. “I’m your best friend! I'm your colleague! I’m your lover!”
His anger left the two of you stunned; your heart was racing as he inched closer to you. “You set up our arrangement. You said this was for the best; we wouldn't ruin our friendship if we kept it casual. You said that!” Nanami watched your cheeks burn, your eyes avoiding his at all costs.
“You're right. This was my arrangement. And I don't think I can do it anymore.”
That caught your attention, Y/E/C eyes finding his honey-brown ones in a flash. “What?! No, why?!” Nanami’s large hand cupped your face.
“Because I find myself wanting more. I want you, Y/N, I want all of you.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
The confession, the anger, all of that collided together in a heated kiss. You both made quick work; you unbuckled his belt, and he slid your dress up past your hips, moving your panties to the side. When you were in a moment like this, you moved in sync. There were no fumbling or awkward movements. Just perfect flowing movements, much like dancers or ice skaters who had been perfecting their art for decades. That was the perfect way to describe how you and Nanami moved together.
Your back was against the cold stall, legs wrapped around Nanami’s hips as he fucked you. His cock slid in and out of you like it had done hundreds of times before, finding a rhythm he knew the two of you enjoyed. That was one of the many joys of fucking your best friend. Everything was easy and comfortable.
“Nanami, fuck your cock is so big.”
”Yeah? Your pussy is tight; it’s like they were made for each other.”
You couldn’t help but giggle, moaning in surprise as his hips snapped forward. “It’s like a puzzle.” Your words were meant to be a joke, based on what he said. But they meant the world to Nanami.
”Yes, you’re right.” His lips found yours, nipping at your lips. “That’s exactly what you are to me, Y/N.” His hips moved harder, the stall creaking under the force as you yelped out in pained pleasure. The tip of his cock hitting your cervix with each powerful thrust.
”W-What am I to you?” Nanami mewled as your fingers ran through his hair before rubbing against his undercut. “Tell me.” Your voice was caught in a moan as one of his hands reached down, rubbing your clit. “N-Nana, fuck, fuck yes.”
”You’re my other half, my missing piece.” He growled against your skin, his hot tongue licking at your pulse. “You’re my favorite person.” He chuckled, teeth grazing your skin. “And I want to be with you.”
You were hearing the words you had been wanting to hear for years sent you into orgasmic bliss. You screamed, pussy clamping down on Nanami, milking him as he grunted against your skin. His hips slammed against you, his hot cum filling you to the brim until his cock had gone soft. He kept you pinned against the stall, breathing heavily against your flushed skin before he felt your hands lazily play with his hair again.
When he pulled back to meet your gaze, he swore his heart skipped a beat. You were smiling so softly, with an expression he’d never seen. A mixture of satisfaction and happiness. It had butterflies, butterflies of all things swarming around the pit of his stomach. He can’t stop leaning in, kissing you the softest he’s ever kissed.
”So,” you whispered against his lips, “does this mean you’ll finally stay the night with me?”
Nanami shakes his head with a chuckle as the two of you readjust your clothes and straighten your hair. “I’ll do you one better. I’ll stay the night, and then I’ll take you on a proper date tomorrow.” He gently takes your hand, his thumb brushing against your knuckles. “How does that sound, Y/N?” You didn’t even need to respond for Nanami to know your answer. The wide grin and sparkle in the blue lights of the bathroom said it all.
”Sounds like a dream come true!”
Geto Suguru:
You looked at the clock with a groan, digging through your closet. You were going to be late for your date Shoko had set up. Your stupid cardigan had gone missing again. It was the only one you had, seeing as the other was on your desk chair at work. You couldn’t just go out in the early spring evening without a sweater! It was too hot for long sleeves and hoodies.
Lucky for you, Geto Suguru, your roommate's best friend, and your FWB had a sweater. One he was not currently using. You hurried out of your room, searching for the dark-haired man. He was in the living room, looking through the books, when he heard your heels clicking over the floor.
”Hey, do you still have that book I let you borr-“ Suguru choked on his words when he turned to look down at you. You were in a tight black lace bra, a push-up one that made your breasts look plumper than usual. The matching thong barely covered your pussy, leaving little to the imagination. “What the hell are you doing?!” Suguru barked out, head whirling for any peering eyes that might not be his own.
”Relax, Satoru has seen me naked before.” Seeing Suguru’s eyebrows ccock up, you shook your head. “Chill out. I forgot to lock the bathroom door. I haven't slept with him.” Your eyes did a glance over the living room, pouting when you couldn’t find your sweater still. “Could I borrow your sweater? I can’t find mine, and I would rather not freeze tonight.”
Relieved to know Satoru had only seen you naked by accident, Suguru shrugged out of his black sweater, promptly handing it to you. “Where are you going? Book club, drinks with the girls?” You answered with a shake of your head, heading back to the bedroom.
”Nope, I got a date.”
Before you could take another step, Suguru held your wrist. You turned your head, looking at him from over your shoulder. His dark eyes were wide, gaze locked on yours. It was shocking to see him so stunned. He was usually calm and collected.
You turned around, looking him over, trying to pinpoint the source of his shock. While your Y/E/C eyes searched over him, his hands ran up your arms, gently holding you. This was a side of him you never saw, so gentle and unsure.
“Date? What do you mean you have a date?”
“Oh, yeah, Shoko set it up for me.” Suguru clenched his teeth, his eyes now roamed over your body. He was taking in the curves and dips of your skin. Every part he had caressed and kissed. “She said it was time for me to get back on the playing field.”
Shaking his head, Suguru gently ran his hands up to your shoulders. “Why? You have me. Don't I satisfy your needs?” You laughed, cocking an eyebrow up at him. “Why are you looking at me like that, Y/N? I'm being serious!” His frustration only made you giggle more as you shook your head in disbelief.
“Suguru, you told me that you didn't want a relationship. That what we had was just sex. Someone we could turn to when we were horny, no strings attached.”
“I know I said that.”
“Then why are you being so weird about me going out on a date?”
Yeah, why was the thought of you going out with someone else making his stomach do cartwheels? You both agreed to hook up whenever you wanted. But just because you fucked, didn't mean you were his girlfriend. He had specified that part himself.
The no-strings-attached policy was just something he had said in the spur of the moment. He had so many thoughts running through his mind as the two of you made out. Would Satoru be mad at him for sleeping with his roommate? Would it make things awkward for the two of you when he came over? In the heat of the moment, three months ago, that was the most reasonable thing he thought to say.
”Because I want to be the only person you date.” His words were confident and to the point. Not leaving any thoughts of doubt behind.
You were still left staring at him in utter confusion. “But you said no strings attached!?” Your brain was beginning to hurt with the back-and-forth banter.
“Ugh!” He released you, throwing his head back. “I know I said that and trust me, I wish I could take back that singular sentence. I was thinking about all the ifs and ands when I should have been focusing on the cold, hard truth.” He began pacing, his eyes glued to the floor as he continued to rant. “The truth is, I like you. I’ve liked you for the last year, but I didn’t want to make you feel weird or have Satoru pissed off that I slept with you.”
“Suguru.”
“But sleeping with you made me like you even more! I just fuck; I regret saying that because I don’t want to be friends with benefits anymore. I want to be the one taking you out on dates! I want to be the only guy in your bed and vice versa. After we hooked up, I deleted all the dating apps, and I just.” He huffed out a sigh, turning to look at you. “I want you.”
Fuck, he shouldn’t have ranted like that. But what else could he have done? He had to get it off his chest before you went on your date. At least let you know how he felt before you went out with someone else. The ball was in your court now. That might be the most terrifying part of this whole mess he found himself in.
His dark eyes were glued to the floor as he listened to your heels clicking as you stood before him. Bracing himself for rejection or anything else, Suguru looked up, meeting your flushed face and a wide smile. Seeing you like that had him stepping forward, closing the distance between you.
”You deleted all of your dating apps after the first time we hooked up?” He nodded his head. “In the last three months, you haven’t been with anyone but me?’ Another nod. “You want to be with me?”
”Yes! I want that more than anything.”
You threw your arms around him, kissing him deeply as he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling tight against him. Your kiss held as much truth as his words had. It was feverish, deep, and full of passion. You were conveying the truth of your feelings for him without using words.
By the time you managed to pull yourself away, both of you were panting heavily. “Let me cancel this date, then maybe we could go out.” You breathed out between gasps. “I’m happy to have a boyfriend now, but I was sort of looking forward to getting eaten out tonight.” As your message went through, Suguru had you in his arms, tossing your phone on the couch.
Suguru had your back pinned against the wall, legs over his shoulders, as his hands held your ass. You gripped the wall as best as you could, heart racing from being so high off the ground as Suguru licked and sucked at your clit through your lace panties. He lapped and sucked at you like a man dying of thirst. His feral actions had you grabbing his smooth, dark hair, pulling it as you rocked against his face.
Suguru hummed, glancing at you before prodding your dripping entrance with his tongue. As he did, his heart almost stopped. His tongue had slid through a tiny opening in the center, meeting your dripping cunt. Eyes shot to your face, seeing the smirk tugging at your kiss-swollen lips.
“Never heard of crotchless panties, Sugu?”
There was no snarky remark or comeback. Just his tongue burying itself deep inside of you. You cried out, eyes shutting tight as he brushed his nose over your clit, shaking his head back and forth. You felt dizzy as his tongue swirled inside of you, lapping and rubbing against your inner walls.
Suguru was so skilled at using his mouth. His tongue mapped out every part of your pussy and entrance. The man loved to eat you out and make you feel so good. If his girlfriend wanted to get her pussy eaten, by god, she would. He'd make sure you’d never be left unsatisfied. If it took hours to make you cum on his tongue, then he'd take those hours, not stopping until you came, coating his face with your essence.
He was so worked up, just thinking about eating you out, making you feel good, that he groaned as you tugged hard on his hair. Little moans of ‘Suguru’ and ‘im cumming’ was all he could register before you were squirting all over his face. He shut his eyes as your juices coated his lips, tongue, and chin. His tongue kept moving until you were begging him to stop.
“Was that to your liking?” He asked gently, lowering you to the ground. “Satisfied? Or do you n-nngh!” His words were caught in his throat, eyes darting down to where you had his cock in a vice grip.
“Shut the fuck up and come fuck your girlfriend into the mattress.” Suguru didn't need you to tell him twice, especially when you called yourself his girlfriend.
Toji Fushiguro:
“This is me.” You nervously laughed as your creepy Tinder date eyed the building you didn't live in. “Thanks for the date, it was fun.” Yeah, it was a lot of fun getting felt up and paying for the dinner he told you he would buy, but he just so happened to forget his wallet.
“You don't want to invite me up?” the creepy guy asked as you hit the buzzer three times. “I thought you might want some dessert. I have a great cream filling for you to try.”
“No, I'm good.”
“Don't be a bitch; come on, let me in.”
“I said I’m good!”
“Stupid fuc—”
The door to the apartment complex swung open, and a firm hand grabbed you, pulling you inside. “She said no, go fuck yourself.” without another word, the door slammed shut. “Fuck, you sure know how to pick them.” you pressed your face into your FWB’s chest, his hand rubbing your back soothingly.
“Holy fuck, that was super scary thanks Toji.” Your hands gripped his shirt, holding yourself upright as he sighed.
“Why do you put yourself through this?” Toji asked, leading you to the elevator. “Honestly, you should know better than to go out with creeps like that one.”
You rolled your eyes, stepping onto the elevator with him. “I just want to find my person.” Those words had Toji glaring down at you. “Not all of us can be satisfied with random hookups with friends.” The elevator opened on the third floor, and you stepped out.
“Random hookups?” His tone was dry. “You think that's what this is between us?”
“You're really to look at me and tell me they aren't?” He grabbed your attention arm, glaring down at you. “This is just to blow off steam, right?”
You and Toji had slept together on multiple occasions. After a long week of work, a bad day when you were feeling down. He was always the one you went to when you needed to vent, have a good laugh, or have sex. Toji was your friend, and you loved him, but he didn't love you the same way. He was a single dad, taking care of his son Megumi. He didn't have time to date and all that other stuff. Once in a while, a good fuck with you was enough to fulfill his needs.
So when your best friend dragged you into his apartment and slammed the door behind him, you swallowed the lump forming in your throat. His eyes were dark and narrow with frustration and anger. A look you rarely saw directed towards you. You felt so small under his gaze it had you stepping back., the back of your knees hitting the couch.
“Do you honestly think I would hook up with you to blow off steam? You’re the same woman I have over for dinner, the woman I sleep with, the only other person I trust with Megumi!” His anger was palpable as you crawled onto the couch, your eyes never leaving his as he followed you. “I didn't put a label on this,” his hand motioned between you, “you did!”
“So what are you saying?!”
“I'm saying you're the only one going on stupid dates! I'm not! If you want more, say it! You're a grown-ass adult. You can do what you want, Y/N! And so can I!” He crawled on top of you. “So, for once in your life, can you please be honest?!”
You felt your nose and eyes burning with tears. Was he saying what you thought he was? That he wanted to be more, but you were holding back? Had you been the one keeping the FWB label on your relationship?
The longer you stare into his dark eyes, the more your face softens. Toji was always the one you ran to after a stupid Tinder date. He was the only person you slept with, the only man you wanted to be with, and Megumi, god, you lived that kid like he was your son. You couldn't find your person through random people because you already found him.
Your person was Toji.
Your hands gently reached up, cupping his face. “You want me?” Your voice was shaky and hesitant, scared to hear his answer.
“Of fuckin’ course I want you, Y/N.” he turned towards your hand, kissing your palm. “You idiot, it took you that long to see it?”
“You could have said something.” Your teasing tone was cut off by his hands working on your leggings. “Toji, wait, what are you doing? Megumi’s in the other room.”
Toji didn't respond to you; he just tugged his sweats down, tucking the band of them under his balls. “I’m not good with words. So I’ll show you how much I want you.” He rubbed his cock up and down over your folds before slowly pressing into you.
Soft moans and whines escaped you both as Toji slowly began to fuck you inside the couch. His hand grabbed at your hips, breasts, and thighs. Touching you everywhere he could as his cock pressed in and out of you, fucking you deeper and harder with each thrust of his hips. Toji pressed hot kisses against your lips. Each kiss, touch, and thrust told you everything you needed to know.
“I love you.” You cried out without thinking as he pressed into your g-spot. The sudden outburst had Toji freezing above you, hips pausing mid-thrust. Sweat slowly dripped down his temple as his mind replayed your words.
“What was that?”
“I said I love you.”
Toji’s eyes widened in surprise as he felt something unlock inside him. Whether it was his heart or sick throbbed inside of you, he couldn't tell. “Fuck,” he whispered, eyes drifting down your body. “Fuck.” Toji pulled all the way out before slamming hard into you. “Fuck!!” He growled, slamming into you harder and deeper with each thrust. “Love you too, fuck, I love you.”
Your eyes rolled back as you felt yourself drawing closer and closer to your orgasm. Toji reached over you, grabbing the arm of the couch for support as he drilled into you. Holy fuck, this was intense, so fucking intense. Your moans grew louder before he clamped his other hand over your mouth.
“As much as I love you screaming my name, I would rather not have my kid catching us. So be a good girl and cum.” His raspy command and slamming into your g-spot was all you needed. You screamed into his hand, trembling under him as he gritted his teeth. “Cummin’ take it all, Y/N~!”
As the waves of pleasure died, Toji removed his hand, smiling at you. You returned his grin, kissing him softly. “Fuck, that was so good.” Toji chuckled, shifting so you both were lying on the couch.
“Y/N, everything is good when it comes to you.”
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billfarrah · 3 days
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One of my favourite things about Young Royals and its characters is how much it romanticizes being utterly ordinary.
Stories often focus on characters who are exceptionally good at something or who are more ambitious than the average person. Even in the teen shows I’ve watched, these young characters always seemed to have their dream career and dream university figured out at a young age and I could never relate to that because I had none of those things figured out as a teen. It always felt like pushing this narrative that teenagers need to have their entire lives figured out before their brains are even fully developed.
None of the characters in YR seem particularly ambitious and in fact, the main character’s journey is a story of anti-ambition. When he is introduced to Simon, it is precisely Simon’s ordinariness that draws Wille to him. Sure, Simon is a very talented singer, but it’s never indicated within the series that he has dreams of being a pop star. It’s just something he likes to do. Simon is motivated by very ordinary things - he wants to do well in school so he can have better opportunities for himself, he wants to take care of his family, he wants to hang out with his friends and play video games. He’s a dedicated student but not necessarily valedictorian. It’s not his ambition that Wille is drawn to but his integrity and kindness and warmth.
Wille had a chance to be extraordinary - to be Sweden’s first gay king - but being extraordinary has never been Wille’s ambition. Wille’s ultimate goal and dream within the series’ narrative is to be free to make his own decisions and live his life as he pleases. He just wants to kiss his boyfriend and get drunk at parties and live his life one day at a time instead of spending every moment of his life preparing for an inevitable future he doesn’t want. In the end Wille is extraordinary not for his ambition, but for his bravery to reject the expectations thrust upon him and throw himself into the unknown and see where it takes him. Wille had a whole future in front of him as crown prince and future king - he’d never have to work a day in his life and would have people advising his every move - and he rejects that. This lack of ambition is not portrayed as a moral failure, but a necessary step in Wille’s journey to personal self-discovery and fulfillment of his own desires. His desire right now is simple - be free with Simon, but that doesn’t mean his dreams end here forever. He deserves peace and tranquility after all the trauma he’s been through without having to worry about where or who he’s gonna be in a few years. He deserves time to just exist.
None of the characters know where they’re going when they drive away at the end. We as the audience don’t know what careers if any these characters will find themselves in, but that’s also not important to this story. The series is saying you don’t have to have everything figured out when you’re 17 and you don’t have to do something just because your parents think they know what’s best for you and even if you don’t know exactly what you want to do, that doesn’t mean you don’t have the agency to know what you don’t want.
It’s not a moral failing to want the simple things in life or to be ordinary, and I love that Young Royals celebrates that. It shows the beauty in simple moments that feel revolutionary to a person - touching the person you love, forgiving someone and making amends after a hardship, whooping with your friends in a car as you drive into the summer and celebrates them. Ultimately these are the moments that make life worth living.
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etherealyoungk · 3 days
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soft, shy wonwoo falling in love for the first time wonwoo x reader/ fluff/ 855
wonwoo sees you for the first time at a mutual friend's party, he thinks you're the prettiest person in the room. he finds himself looking across the room where you're standing, looking lost, like you didn't want to be there and he's mentally trying to build up the courage to say hi to you. until you spot him looking at you and he fumbles when he's caught and gives you a small wave in panic before he looks away. so that's how you find yourself making your way towards wonwoo and you introduce yourself.
wonwoo would slowly fall in love and he wouldn't even know it until he was completely in love with you. he'd find himself thinking about you more often, and look around for you during lunch breaks on campus. he'd leave little snacks and drinks by your locker or your desk when you were passing by and they would always be your favourites.
wonwoo becomes a fumbling mess with his words when you approach him and strike up a conversation with him and he's barely listening to what you're saying because he's caught up on how pretty you looked. his heart beats a little too fast as he watches you smile that gorgeous smile and the way you laugh after telling him something, watching the way your eyes light up when you speak.
wonwoo walking you home when he finds out you were working a night shift and he comes to the store when you're closing, trying to act like he was just passing by, telling you that he was just in the neighbourhood and saw you so he thought he'd come and say hi. you smile when you see him and he offers to wait as you finish the closing shift and walks you home, draping his jacket on your shoulders when he notices the small goosebumps on your arms from the chilly air.
wonwoo letting you copy his notes because you were stressed about the exam and missed the class. mingyu watches, bewildered because wonwoo never let anyone copy his notes or ever offered it. so the fact that he was letting you was something life-altering in mingyu's eyes.
"you like yn don't you?", mingyu probes wonwoo when they're back at their shared apartment.
wonwoo doesn't deny it, the silence being his answer as well as the soft smile on his face at the mention and thought of you.
"you should tell them", mingyu encourages. "you know the other day, i saw someone else hitting on them, don't lose your chance buddy", mingyu tells wonwoo, whose ears perk up at this information. but little did he know that mingyu was lying. he just wanted his shy, quiet friend to do something bold for once.
so that's how wonwoo, a man who is usually reserved, quiet and shy finds himself looking for you with a determined stride as he walks to your part-time place the next night. except it's early, so it's still full of customers. you're surprised to see wonwoo again and he smiles softly at you, his soft, fluffy hair falling over his forehead, his glasses resting on his handsome face.
it's when you're walking back with wonwoo a few hours later that he finally decides to tell you what's been weighing on his heart and mind for a while.
"you don't have to come over every night", you tell wonwoo, having noticed he came by on purpose to walk you home and the gesture and thought made you smile at his soft and caring affection.
"i like to, i want to", he tells without missing a beat as he glances at you. "i like being with you", wonwoo adds softly, and there was something about the way he said it, so sweetly, that makes your heart flutter for a moment.
wonwoo musters up the courage to ask you, unsure, but he still does because it was either now or never.
"are you free this weekend?", he asks, hopeful.
"i am! why?", you ask as you glance at wonwoo, who seems to fumble with his next few words.
"can we go out? for dinner-or- wait-maybe coffee because dinner sounds too straightforward", he says in a rush that you chuckle and he runs a hand through his hair, feeling nervous.
"can we maybe go out for coffee sometime?", wonwoo asks again. "i mean do you want to?", he corrects and you stop walking, facing wonwoo as he looks at you flustered, feeling shy.
"god i don't know how to do this", he admits, letting out a nervous chuckle, his glasses falling forward a bit as he looks down, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his coat, feeling like he just blew his chance, feeling hopeless.
"i'll be more than happy to go out for coffee with you", you tell and he quips his head up to look at you. you're smiling that smile he's fallen in love with and his heart skips a beat.
"really?", he asks and you nod.
"even if i am a mess?", he asks and you laugh even more. "yes, even if you were a mess because you're adorable", you tell which somehow seems to console wonwoo and ease his racing heart.
he smiles at you, giving you a bashful grin before you both continue to walk, the evening breeze stirring through the air.
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taglist: @biboramp3 @naaaaafla @blue-jisungs @weird-bookworm @icyminghao @wootify @n4mj00nvq @joshuaahong @itsveronicaxxx @fallingforshua29 @frankenstein852 @lvlystars @mirxzii
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greenglowinspooks · 12 hours
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(DCXDP) The obligations of a rogue versus those of a parent (Pt. 5)
Tw: torture scene (GiW agent receiving), general angst, canon-typical violence (DC), nobody is having a good time
Will be crossposted to AO3 eventually
(Masterlist/subscription post)
It was pretty easy for Danny to forget that Dr. Crane was a rogue at times.
Most of the time he wasn’t comically evil, like what he’d expect of a Gotham rogue. He was helping Danny, even if only because he didn’t want to be taken in by the GiW as well. He was even downright nice most of the time, or at least neutral.
Sure, he had a strange obsession with fear and psychology, but that wasn’t really out of the ordinary for Danny. It didn’t feel like living with a rogue, just like…staying with a distant relative, or something.
He seemed like just an ordinary person.
Today, though, Danny was brought back to reality.
The GiW agent they’d tracked down together writhed on the ground, screaming in pain and terror. Scarecrow was sat a few feet away, setting up a syringe of the antidote he’d made.
After a few more moments, he injected the man with the antidote, watching him like a hawk the entire time.
Suddenly, the man surged forward, lunging at Scarecrow with a feral scream.
Unluckily for him, though, he was still weak from the fear toxin in his system, and from the beatings he’d received prior. Scarecrow easily wrestled him to the ground, settling himself on the broad part of the agent’s back with a vice grip on one of his arms.
“Let’s try again,” he said sharply, all of the warmth Danny had grown used to gone from his voice. “Where is the GiW base of operations?”
The agent took several shuddering breaths before spitting at Scarecrow, defiance and hatred written all over his face.
For just a moment, the room was utterly silent.
“Fine, have it your way.”
Scarecrow began to twist the man’s arm further. It wasn’t long before the agent began to squirm, then writhe, beneath him. Danny’s stomach churned.
“You know,” Scarecrow began, almost conversationally, “there are plenty of jobs that one can get without the use of their legs, especially with the level of education you have. Anything that doesn’t involve hard labor, really.”
The man’s face was beginning to turn red in his struggle not to scream. He took in gasping breaths, the way that his mouth moved almost reminding Danny of a goldfish.
(He felt awful for the comparison, but it was true.)
“However,” Scarecrow continued, “I find you’d be rather hard-pressed to find a job without the use of your arms. Especially in a place like Gotham, where you can always be replaced by someone eager to do your job for even less money. Of course, you could most likely coast off of savings and severance pay for a while, but…”
He leaned closer to the man’s head, his voice lowering.
“Would you be able to live like that? To live with yourself, if you no longer have a purpose?”
He allowed the agent a few seconds of rest before increasing the pressure on his arm. The agent gasped, letting out a strangled hiss. His arm bones were making fascinating noises in response to the strain. Danny felt sick.
“You seem like a rather driven young man. I’m sure your family would hate to see you unmotivated, directionless. Would they resent you, do you think?”
“Fuck you, you—”
The man was cut off by his own scream as Scarecrow finally allowed his arm to break, audibly splintering into thousands of useless shards of bone.
He had the exact pressure memorized. Clearly, he had done this before.
This was wrong. This was wrong.
Shouldn’t Danny step in, do something?
“That won’t heal cleanly. Even with the best medical care in the world, you’ll end up with permanent damage.”
The man below him wheezed and sobbed, choking on air as Scarecrow let go of his arm carelessly, letting it flop back onto the ground.
“Just the sort of thing something like you deserves,” Scarecrow hissed, his voice cold.
“You tortured a child, and you enjoyed it. You laughed with your friends about it. In your notes, one of your friends complained about the screaming,” Scarecrow brought his leg around, grinding his boot into the man’s broken arm. He howled in agony, writhing uncontrollably.
“Was it inconvenient to him, do you think? Too loud? If you were joking about it, clearly you thought so, too. I could fix that as well.”
He drew out another needle, this one once again filled with fear toxin.
“Scarecrow, wait,” Danny choked out.
Scarecrow turned to look at him.
Even his posture was different than usual. He looked… stiff, more like an animal than a man. When he tilted his head at Danny in a silent question, it looked like something in his neck had snapped, his head lolling to the side.
Danny wondered if he was consciously moving like that, or if it was habit at this point.
“You—we don’t have to do this. We can get information some other way, right? You don’t have to…”
Danny looked down at the GiW agent below Scarecrow. He didn’t even have it in him to glare up at Danny like he had before. Instead he laid limply on the ground, tremors rolling through his body uncontrollably.
“We’ve exhausted every other option and you know it,” Scarecrow said, his voice low, “this is the only way we can move forward.”
“Still, I—I don’t,” Danny swallowed, his throat tight, “this isn’t—this isn’t right. Isn’t there some other way to do this? Like—a truth serum, or something?”
“Truth serums are notoriously unreliable. They’re almost as bad as lie detectors. We’re much more likely to get a reliable result from this.”
Danny just stared at the GiW agent and his splintered, ruined arm. He began to weakly wriggle in Scarecrow’s grasp, which was graciously ignored.
He vaguely remembered himself doing the same thing when he was on the operating table; even if he knew there was no chance of escape, he still thrashed and screamed, desperate to get away. The jagged I-shaped incision on his torso felt uncomfortably warm.
What was there left to say?
“The Bat does the same thing at times, you know,” Scarecrow said, “him and the rest of his brood. By using my toxin, I’m actually lessening the amount of permanent damage that I’m doing. Physically.”
“Still, that doesn’t make it right,” Danny said desperately. “Even if—even if everyone in the world did this, it wouldn’t make it right.”
Scarecrow hummed.
They were both silent for a moment.
His next words were gentle, absurdly so when compared to the scene in front of him.
“I would love an alternative. But…”
He shrugged, hand coming to rest on the break in the GiW agent’s arm. Even without applying any pressure, the man stopped squirming immediately.
“There aren’t any other options,” Danny repeated, his voice flat and his body numb.
“Yes,” Scarecrow said. “I’m sorry.”
There was a pause. No one moved a muscle. Eventually Scarecrow spoke again, his voice strangely empty.
“You can stand outside and keep watch, if you’d like. At such a short distance their radars won’t pick us up.”
Danny said nothing, leaving the room silently.
He sat outside for quite a while.
He was grateful that Scarecrow had, with his help, dragged the agent to one of his previous hideouts. It was soundproofed, after all.
He was glad that he didn’t have to hear the rest of what Scarecrow did to the man.
After what felt like an eternity, Dr. Crane left the building, joining him outside. He guided Danny back to his beat up old truck and they drove home in silence.
“Did you at least…do you know where they are, now?” Danny asked as they entered the apartment, his voice small.
“They didn’t share the details of all of their locations with any one person. I know where one of their locations are, but not their main base of operations.”
Danny felt disgusted. With himself, with Dr. Crane, with the GiW.
He was disgusted by the agent, too. Did he just hate the restless dead so much that he would prefer to be tortured than to give them the upper hand? Did he really think he was in the right?
Was there a chance that he was?
Danny felt very, very small, and very stupid. Stupid and weak and cowardly.
“Danny,” Dr. Crane spoke, his voice soft.
“I’m truly sorry that this is happening to you. I really, truly wish that you didn’t have to endure my company. I…”
He fell quiet. Danny wondered if he was just saying this to pacify him, or if he truly meant it. He wondered if it really mattered in the end.
After a few moments of silence, Dr. Crane sighed, looking truly pained.
“I don’t know. I’m sorry.”
Danny was quiet.
“I’m going to bed early,” he finally said, turning away and leaving without a second glance.
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gojo-enthusiast · 3 days
Text
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Kento Nanami — No Words, Only Moans
mlist<3
18+, MDI, degrading, angry sex, overstimulation—
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Your darling husband Kento Nanami was not happy with you today. You had always known he was a rather patient husband, so you naturally got away with little back talk, and snarky remarks. This morning you made your husband late for work, when you decided late at night to rearrange his shoes and clothes, you hadn’t realized you didn’t hang his dress shirt he wore for missions, now his laundry is wrinkled, and on the floor. Gojo now calling Kento asking him where he is at?
All through out the day, you had called him asking him common sense questions, like “what are your thoughts on white bread and wheat bread” but to you, you were seeking attention from your agitated husband, and seeing him getting frustrated by your actions, only fueled for you to piss him off more. Finally after the last call, Kento finally was done with your attitude. “Fuck, quit calling me for the rest of the day. You’re driving me berserk.” He snaps. “Excuse me?” You ask in an agitated tone. “You have been picking on me all day, if you don’t have an emergency do not call me, I am working. Fuck— Itadori-Kun, don’t touch that! Gojo-San, you fucking dumbass!” He shouts, hanging up the phone. At this point you knew, you fucked up. Your ass was grass when he got home, he either was going to scold you, or not talk to you until he cools down.
You paced around the living room, as 5PM hit, meaning your husband was going to be home in 17 minutes. Sitting on the couch, cuddled under a blanket, biting your nails. You see the nob turn, and keys dangling. You hear a light mutter behind the door, and a frustrated grunt. “Fuck fuck fuck.” You think to yourself. You rushed to the bathroom, instantly turning the hot water on for a bath, knowing your husband was going to be angry with you, you were trying to soften up his feelings as much as possible. As you hear the front door slam shut. You begin to start putting some epsom salts and essential oils in the bath, something to calm him down. Your heart is racing, your skin has chill bumps. You lacked much cursed energy, so you lived your life as a normal person, but at this moment, you sensed his presence the closer he got, until he was at the bathroom door, staring at you.
“Hey Ken— I drew you a bath.” You lightly said, watching him loosen his tie, you could see his blue shirt was still wrinkled, and he looked disheveled. “Let me take your clothes and I’ll wash and iron them.” You add lightly. Your husband has YET to say a word. You walk over to him, grabbing the tie that was bundled in his hands, and begin to unbutton his shirt, wanting to take full care of your Kento. You felt his head droop down, his mouth next to your ear.
“Listen to me carefully.” He says in a seductive growl. “You’re not allowed to speak, until I say you’re allowed the speak.” He says, making your heart race even faster, “take off your clothes and bend over the counter… now.” He growls. You look up to say something, but you knew if you did so, you might be the next thing he exercises. You look up at him, with your innocent doe eyes, pleading with him to be easy on you. But you saw clear in his eyes, tonight is about him, and him only, he will use you till his hearts content. “Now.” He says louder. You nod lightly, pulling your nightgown off, only left in your silk panties, that you hadn’t even realized you soaked in your arousal. “Wtf is wrong with me?” You think to yourself.
You bend over the counter, hearing your husband turn off the tub, and then come up behind you, his clothed manhood pressed against you, as he gently rubs the fat of your ass, before he lands a hard slap on it. Making your legs shake, and a yelp coming out of your lips. “HUSH!” He shouts. You close your mouth, feeling your arousal slip out of you. “Look at you, soaked. Is this what you wanted, you act like a fucking brat all day, for me to fuck you?” He hisses, he was beyond furious, you could feel the heat coming off his body. He peeled your underwear off, dropping it at your ankles. A moment later, you feel him push a silicone item inside your hole, your walls hugging it so perfectly. “Ah—“ you moan. Then another slap on your ass. You covered your mouth. “Fuck, Do you not fucking listen?” He asks. You nodded, and then stifled the moan that almost escaped your mouth when you felt the machine turn on. “Stand there, and take it. I’m gonna take a bath.” Kento smirks to himself. “Don’t you fucking dare move or talk. I only give you permission to moan.”
Kento watched you as he sat in the bath, relaxing after a long day. He watched you as the vibrator which he controlled on a remote, made you cum over and over and over. It had been the 5th time now, you were crying in pleasure, you couldn’t speak, but your moans were confirming to him, that you were wanting to be fucked merciless. Your hearing had gone in and out, but you heard your husband step out of the bath and walk up to you. He pulled the device out of you, and quickly replaced it with his cock. Instantly slamming into you. “You little slut, you like it when I fuck you like this? You’re gonna fuckin take it.” He grunts, his hips were like a stallion, he slammed them forcefully and fucked you stupid. You felt him pick you up, showcasing yourself to the mirror. “Watch how I fuck your slutty cunt. Watch how I fix that brattiness.” He grunts in your ear, you sat there and watch your husband fuck up into you roughly, “Ken-“ you groan, feeling so overstimulated. “SHUT UP!” he shouts, biting your shoulder. You yelped out from the bite, feeling your stomach tingle, “shut up shut up shut up!” He chanted, he didn’t want to hear you, he wanted to hear nothing come out of your mouth. “I only want to hear your pussy, she listens, unlike you.” He growls, slamming faster, placing his hand on your clit, rubbing quickly. He loved the way you would clamp down on him as you were approaching an orgasm.
You blacked out after squirting all over the mirror, you woke up 10 minutes later, to you lied on your stomach, and your back arched. Kento was slamming into you still. His cock was throbbing, he had busted already, yet he needed more. “Fuck!! You make me so fucking angry. You never fucking listen.” He says as he thrust. “Kenny, I’m sorry baby. Please slow down.” You moan, feeling your walls and stomach tighten again. “I can’t hear anything, I can’t hear anything you’re saying.” He grunted, he was so entranced and addicted to your pussy that nothing you could do, could calm him the fuck down. “Please, ah- Kenny.” You whimpered, you moaned so deliciously, making his cock twitch inside of you. “Fuck, I could fuck you forever. I don’t want to hear— hear your words, I just want to hear you cry for more.” Kento groaned, his cock was so sensitive, yet he couldn’t stop. “Ken, feels so so good. I’ll be so so good now, I just-just missed you so so much.” You moan out. “I wont ever leave you.” He moaned into your ear, as his thrust began to get sloppy, and his head next to yours. You felt him pull out, flipping you over, inserting himself back into you sopping sensitive cunt. He thrust quickly, while her hand found your clit and rubbed it quickly. “Cum, now.” He grunted, as his cock twitched and started shooting out inside of you. “Ah yes yes yes!” You chanted, cumming and squirting all over his cock. “Kento, please slow down.” You moaned, feeling your legs spasm. You simply couldn’t take it anymore. “Water, I need water.” You groan. Your husband’s vision, finally clearing and his head less foggy. “Hmm?” He hummed as he slid out, and lied beside you, slipping off the bed to grab water. You stared at his figure, as his cock began to finally soften, and he looked thoroughly satisfied. He handed you a bottle water, and you downed it like you were dehydrated. “I’m sorry kento.” You pout. He kissed your forehead, and whispered. “I’m not done with you yet. You better get your breather in, you messed with me for 8 hours, we have 5 more hours to go.” He said, as you watched his cock swole back up. The only thought in your head— “oh fuck, I really fucked up.”
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lightsoutnaway · 2 days
Text
Am I Good for You?
PAIRING: Oscar Piastri x reader
WARNINGS: SMUT 18+, dom/sub dynamics, praise, p in v, fingering, safe word mention, edging, unprotected sex, use of ‘sir’,
SUMMARY: Oscar talks to Lando about his sex life and starts worrying that he’s not pleasing you. You decide to try things a little rougher.
WORD COUNT: 3,102
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“Do you think I’m good at sex?”
Oscar asked the question as soon as he walked through the door. You laughed. He hadn’t even said ‘hello.’
“What are you talking about, Osc?” You asked. You were sitting at the counter flipping through a magazine.
“Do you think I’m good at sex?” Oscar repeated.
“Is this some kind of foreplay? It’s not really working,” you joked. Oscar looked truly distressed though. He sat down on the stool beside yours at the counter.
“Baby, I’m serious. Is it—Am I good for you?” He asked.
“Where’s this coming from?” You asked. Oscar had never done anything that made you suspect him of being insecure before.
“I was talking to Lando today,” Oscar admitted. You sighed.
“Oscar, Lando’s crazy,” you reminded your boyfriend.
“I know, but he was talking about some of the things he does,” Oscar started. “And he was really surprised that we hadn’t ever done any of them.”
“Okay?” You waited for something more. Oscar sighed.
“The way he looked at me just made me feel like he knew that I was disappointing you without ever asking you,” he told you.
“Well, he doesn’t know that because you’ve never disappointed me, Osc,” you said firmly.
“But do you get everything you want from me?” Oscar pushed. “I don’t do anything special.”
“Did Lando tell you that?” You questioned. You needed to have a word with the sassy little brit.
“No, but he might as well have,” Oscar said.
“What is it that he said?” You pushed.
“It wasn’t one thing,” Oscar told you. “He was just listing off all the things he does with his partners and…I’d never done any of them with you.” He dropped his shoulders. “I feel like I’ve been doing it all wrong.”
“Is there something you want us to do?” You asked. Oscar shrugged.
“I don’t know,” he said. “I just—I thought I knew what you wanted, but I…I guess I never asked you.”
“What did you think I wanted?” You questioned. Oscar looked up at you. He had been avoiding your eyes for the last few minutes.
“I thought you wanted—I don’t know—I thought you should be treated like a princess,” Oscar finally said. You smiled at this revelation.
“You’re always so careful with me,” you said fondly.
“I thought I should be. You’re not just some fling,” he told you. “I don’t want you to feel like I don’t care about you.”
“I always feel like you care about me,” you assured him.
“But are you satisfied? Do you want more from me?”
“Do you want more?” You asked. “You’re more experienced than me, Oscar.”
“Don’t think about me,” he said. “I’ve always kept it….soft…with you.” He was quiet for a moment. “But I haven’t ever asked you if that’s what you want, and I should have,” Oscar reiterated his earlier thought. “So, baby,” he started. “What do you want?” Your eyes widened. The question was far too direct for your shy personality.
“I don’t know,” you replied quickly. “I like what we do.” Oscar smirked. You answered too quickly. You did know what you wanted.
“I do too,” he assured you. “But we could do other things. I’ve always taken the lead, baby,” Oscar said. “What’s something you think about when I’m gone?”
“Oscar, I always think about you,” you said, thinking that it was the most obvious thing in the world. Oscar grinned.
“C’mon, baby,” Oscar said. “Just because you weren’t experienced when you met me doesn’t mean you didn’t have naughty thoughts.”
“Oscar Jack Piastri, what are you saying about me?” You questioned. Oscar chuckled. His eyes were twinkling as he looked at you.
“I know you said I was the first person to make you come,” Oscar said.
“Don’t brag.” He chuckled.
“But I was second,” Oscar continued. “I think we both know the first person to make you come was you.” You blushed. Oscar was simultaneously turning you on and filling your chest with nerves. “You had fantasies before you met me.” Oscar’s eyes were hungry. “Tell me.” You looked up at him with wide eyes.
“Oscar, I don’t want to,” you whispered shyly.
“Why not, love?” He asked.
“I like what we do…and it’s embarrassing,” you mumbled.
“It’s embarrassing to tell me something you want from me?” Oscar questioned.
“Yes!” You whined.
“Why, baby? Don’t you trust me?” Oscar pushed. Your eyes softened.
“Of course I trust you, but…” You trailed off.
“But what?” Oscar pushed.
“You think I’m so innocent, but…” you started. Oscar raised an eyebrow. “Sometimes I want you to be a little…rougher…with me,” you admitted. “But I don’t want you to think I’m dirty. I like being your innocent baby.”
“It’s okay to be dirty, kitten,” Oscar assured you quickly. “And you can still be my innocent baby.” He reached out and took your hands. “But you want me to be rough with you?” He asked cautiously. Oscar had never tried being rough with you. It didn’t seem right to him. You were so sweet and innocent in his eyes. Your cheeks were burning and you couldn’t meet his eyes as you said the words though. Oscar was sure you were telling the truth.
“If that’s okay…” you whispered. Oscar kept his eyes on you, hoping he could draw another admission out of you if he just stayed quiet. “And maybe you could…make me…beg…a little.” Oscar’s face lit up.
“What do you want to beg for?” He asked at once. You raised an eyebrow. It seemed you had stumbled upon something he wanted too.
“Umm…Why don’t you pick?” You offered. Oscar grinned.
“You want me to be in charge?” He asked. He’d never been submissive between the two of you, but he’d never been particularly dominant either. The balance between you had always been fairly even. You nodded shyly.
“Please,” you squeaked out.
“My naughty baby,” Oscar started taunting. “All this time I thought you were so innocent.” His hands were on you now, sliding up your thighs. You pushed your knees together, as if that would keep him from knowing just how turned on you were.
“Oscar,” you whispered. You weren’t sure what you even meant to ask for.
“But you’re not completely innocent, are you?” Oscar teased you. “Just had this little head full of naughty thoughts while I was treating you so nice.” Oscar could tell by the way you were looking at him that he already had you wrapped around his finger. “Bedroom. Now.” Oscar had never given you a command that way, even in your most heated moments. It was turning you on though, and Oscar could see that. You quickly hurried down the hall. When you got to the bedroom you turned around and looked at Oscar, waiting for further instructions.
“We should have a safe word, shouldn’t we?” Oscar asked you. His new dominant facade wasn’t there. This was your sweet caring Oscar who always wanted you to be okay.
“How about ‘papaya?’” You offered. Oscar chuckled. He had closed the space between you. His hands fell onto your hips.
“Sounds good to me,” he agreed. “You can tell me any time you don’t like something, okay? I won’t be mad.” You nodded. “I want to hear it,” he requested.
“I’ll tell you if I don’t like something,” you assured him.
“Good girl,” he praised. Your eyes went wide and you looked down. Oscar ducked to meet your eyes. “You like that, huh?” He asked. “Should’ve told me that before, kitten.” He gripped the hem of your shirt and lifted it over your head in one smooth motion. You had been at home all day and you hadn’t put on a bra, so Oscar was blessed with the sight of your plush breasts. Your nipples hardened in the cool air of your bedroom. You started to wrap your arms around yourself as a shiver passed over you. Oscar smiled. “Cold?”
“A little,” you said. Oscar grabbed your hips, pushing you back towards the bed till he’d gotten you laid out on your back.
“I’ll warm you up.” He grabbed the waistband to your sweatpants and tugged them down with your underwear. He looked down at your naked body. He never got enough of your body. You were a work of art to him. You were the object of every one of his fantasies. He couldn’t help but stare.
“Yours too,” you called up nervously. Oscar met your eyes and smiled smugly. He kept his eyes locked on yours as he pulled his shirt off. His chest was tight and muscular and he flexed his arms as he tossed his shirt to the side. He started to climb on the bed, but you whined. He looked down at you, waiting for you to explain. “All of it.” You told him. He chuckled before taking his pants off, leaving himself as bare as he had you.
Oscar climbed up the bed once he was naked and laid his body over yours, his weight holding you in place. He had his forearms planted on either side of your head and he leaned down to kiss you. He was soft and sweet with his kisses, contrasting sharply from the dominance he was exhibiting everywhere else. You let out a small sigh of pleasure into the kiss and Oscar chuckled against your lips. He started kissing down your neck and body.
Oscar’s lips fell around your nipple. He sucked and licked at the hardened flesh, bringing a tingling feeling all over your skin. You could feel the burn spreading between your legs and you tried to push them together, but found your knees were blocked by Oscar’s hips. He sensed your intention immediately. He lifted one hand and slid it down between your legs.
“Osc,” you moaned softly at the mere idea of him touching your most sensitive spots. she laughed against your body. He had moved to your other nipple after he felt he had paid enough attention to the first. You were already whimpering and whining under his electric touch. His fingers had found your dripping hole but he refused to slip them inside. You whined in protest, shifting your hips up to signal what you wanted.
“Shh,” he hushed you sharply. You closed your mouth at once. He had never displayed anything like disapproval before. Instinctually, you wanted to please him. He continued to tease your entrance, his lips moving back to yours. You were growing impatient when you finally realized what he was waiting for.
“Please touch me, Oscar,” you murmured against his lips. Oscar smirked. That was all it took for him to slide his fingers inside your warmth. You arched your back and moaned loudly at the feeling of finally being touched in the way you truly wanted.
Oscar slowly started pumping his fingers in and out of you. You were whimpering under his lazy movements, desperate for him to give you more. He kissed your neck, surely making marks that would be seen in any photos taken at the race in the upcoming weekend.
“Are you feeling good?” Oscar asked. His voice was low and gravelly and his accent made his words sound even sexier. You nodded. He gave you a look that told you he was expecting a vocal answer.
“Really good,” you called up. Oscar started pumping his fingers faster. You whimpered. He pushed his thumb against your clit. You whined embarrassingly loud for the fact that he didn’t move it. He snickered at your reaction.
“You’re so fucking sensitive,” Oscar commented. He was saying it more to himself than you—it was like he was bragging to himself. He knew that he was the only one who had ever had you in this state.
The tension in your body was rising and you knew your orgasm was coming. You arched your back, throwing your head into the pillows and clutching at Oscar’s body. You were just on the precipice when suddenly, Oscar wasn’t touching you anymore. You opened your eyes and stared at him, but you were met only with a cocky smirk.
“Why?” You whined.
“You don’t come until I decide you do tonight,” Oscar said. “That’s what you’re begging for.” You closed your mouth and nodded dutifully.
“Yes, sir.” You let the nickname fall off your lips with ease—you didn’t even plan on saying it but there it was on your tongue. Oscar grinned when he heard you.
“Oh, sweetheart,” Oscar groaned. “You’re going to be so good for me, aren’t you?” You nodded quickly.
“Really good, sir,” you agreed. He chuckled.
“Then right now, be quiet,” Oscar said. That was all the warning you got before he was thrusting his fingers into your quickly, his thumb moving quickly against your clit. You whined loudly. “Shh.” The way he was hushing you was driving you up the wall and you clenched around his fingers. Oscar felt it and was spurred on. He moved faster with the hopes of drawing out another moan that he could hush you for.
After Oscar had gotten his fill of hushing you he told you to moan again, not wanting to miss out on the beautiful sounds you made. He drew you to the edge again, spurred on by the moans he could draw from you once he had told you not to be quiet.
Oscar couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He thought he might have been transported to heaven given how beautiful the sight in front of him was. Your face was contorted in pleasure, your eyes watering. Your fingers were dug into the sheets and your hair stuck to your sweaty forehead. You were whimpering and whining in ecstasy and every little ‘please’ and ‘Oscar’ that fell from your lips made him even harder. His thumb was slowly rubbing back and forth over your clit as he kept fingering you steadily. He could feel you tightening around his fingers and he knew he was bringing you towards the edge again.
“Osc,” you murmured more strongly than your small whispers. You knew that he knew you were about to cum. He’d always known your body so well.
“Yes?” He called down with a sly smirk on his face. You scowled at him, knowing he was teasing you.
“Oscar, please.” Oscar smirked.
“Please, what?” He asked.
“Please can I—ungh!” You gasped when Oscar rubbed the pads of his fingers against your walls.
“Can you what?” Oscar taunted.
“Please can I cum, sir?” You spit out.
“No, I don’t think so,” Oscar teased as he pulled his thumb away. You cried out in protest. Oscar stopped thrusting his fingers, and pulled them out of your heat. Oscar watched as your chest heaved, trying to recover from the sudden theft of pleasure. “God, I should’ve been playing with you like this since we met,” Oscar groaned.
“Please,” you whined. “I want to come.”
“Oh, I know, kitten,” Oscar cooed. You sniffled slightly, a single tear slipping down your cheek. Oscar reached up and wiped it away. “Is it too much?” He checked. His voice was softer. You were quiet for a moment.
“No,” you admitted quietly. Oscar smiled, but he was worried that you were just saying it to please him.
“You promise me, kitten?” He pushed. You nodded.
“I promise, Osc,” you said. Oscar smiled in approval and kissed you.
“You want my cock now, baby?” He asked.
“Please,” you said in a gasping breath. Oscar was going wild at the desperation in your voice. He couldn’t bring himself to tease anymore so he lined himself up with you. He looked into your eyes as he slowly slipped himself into you. He moved slowly as he pushed in, making the most indulgent moan you had ever heard from him.
“You’re fucking soaked,” he groaned. He was right. You could hear the slosh of your juices with every thrust Oscar made.
“I’m not going to last long,” you whined.
“I know, kitten,” Oscar said. He grabbed your legs and pushed them up against your chest. You let out a sharp cry at the sudden change in angle. You cried out Oscar’s name and dug your fingers into his arms, surely leaning bruises. Oscar could feel you clenching down on him and he knew you were nearing your peak. He looked deep into your tear brimmed eyes. You felt the panic of having your orgasm stolen from you again. Oscar’s eyes were dark as they stared into yours.
“Beg.” His voice was low and gravelly and firm and you were sure there wasn’t a person in the world who could have denied him.
“Please, sir. Please make come. I need it so bad. I need you. I need your cum. Please, Osc,” you were crying and whimpering the words out, terrified of the idea of having the burning pleasure you felt taken from you again.
“Where do you need my cum?” Oscar pushed.
“Inside me! Inside, Osc, please!” You cried. Your body was on fire, your mind outside your body. Oscar grinned at your words.
“Come.” Oscar’s order was the sweetest sound you ever heard and you let the tsunami of pleasure Oscar had built for you wash over your body. You were shaking and crying, your hips pushing up into his. You tightened down on Oscar and he gasped, letting himself go to the sounds of you chanting his name over and over.
You weren’t sure how long it was after you came but you found yourself back in your body with Oscar lying on top of you. He was pressing soft kisses to the crook of your neck where his head was resting comfortably. Somehow he knew that you had calmed down the moment it happened.
“How was that for you?” He asked. You laughed.
“Are you joking, Osc?” You asked. “That’s the best sex we’ve ever had.” He chuckled back.
“I didn’t want to assume,” he replied. You noticed the bruises you’d made on his arms and you gently ran your fingertips over them.
“I think we owe Lando a ‘thank you,’” you said. Oscar laughed.
“I’ll be sure to let him know.” You turned your head down to find Oscar’s eyes looking into yours.
“You better not tell him everything,” you threatened. Oscar smiled.
“There’s no secrets between teammates,” he teased.
“There is if you want to do that again,” you said. Oscar smirked.
“I think we just established that you’re the one who does the begging.” You smirked right back at him.
“Maybe this time. But Lando was right. There’s lots we haven’t tried.”
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carmyboobear · 2 days
Note
Idk if you've written this but can you write about carmy and the reader arguing and he makes her cry? Idk I just feel like thatd be good angst fluff lol
AHH I got carried away as per usual. anyway this is good stuff. wrote a bunch. enjoy!!
word count: 1.3k
tags: traumatized carmy, mentally ill carmy and reader, arguing, language, HURT/COMFORT, ANGST/FLUFF, carmy being a sweetie
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Hm…i'm spending a lot of time thinking about the set-up for this. Carmy is a very careful person when it comes to those he’s romantically involved in, but at the same time, he has a hard time controlling his temper when he's in the darkness, as i'll put it. 
here's something awful i think about that i wanna write about. carmy's stressed about work, because of course he is. he's carmy. his head is whirring, spinning with anxiety and self-hatred. i think you're just like him. mentally ill for mentally ill if you will. you're also in a bad mood, and he comes home from The Bear exhausted and keyed up.
“I hate when you push me away like this,” you admit. You've been trying to get him to talk to you since he's been home. Maybe he just needs space, but separation makes you anxious. Especially when he shuts down. 
“I'm sorry that it's so hard for you,” he spits, finally snapping and turning to face you. You've followed him into the dark bedroom, lit only by the harsh moonlight through the window. You flinch. You never quite get used to seeing him like this. 
“I—I just—“ you feel pressure beginning in the back of your eyes. You will it away. “How can I help you if you don’t talk to me?”
“Why do you care so much? Does it make you feel better to take care of someone more fucked up than you?” He snaps, voice raised. His words go down bitter, leaving an awful taste in your mouth. Something in you shatters.
“How could you ask me that?” Your vision’s gone hot and blurry. “I’m your partner. I love you, that’s why I care, you asshole!” You’re stifling sobs. You hate crying in fights like this, but it hurts. You can’t help it.
“Fuck,” Carmy mutters under his breath. He’s gone still in your blurred vision. “Baby, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that—“
“That was so fucked up, Carmy.” You move to sit on the bed, trying to wipe your tears away, but they keep coming. “What’s your problem?”
“You know what my problem is.” His remorse has swept away the anger, leaving him quiet before you. He leans down at your knees, hands on your thighs. “I shouldn’t have said that. Any of that.”
“You shouldn’t have.” Carmy nods quickly, and he raises a hand to your wet cheeks. “Fuckin’ asshole.”
“I know.” He takes your pain, your anger in its entirety. His other hand brings your knuckles to his lips. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it.“
“Sure sounded like you meant it.” Anger flares up in your chest, hurt and betrayed, but you tamp it down, leaning into his hand cradling his face. You take a deep breath to steady yourself. “Damnit, Carmy.”
“I know. I know.” He’s still kissing your hand. “You’re too good for me. I don’t deserve you.” You hate it when he talks like this, because you can tell he really believes it.
“Don’t say that. Please.” 
“But it’s true.” You look down at him in the moonlight, at his sad blue eyes. “I always find ways to hurt you. I…”
“That’s what being in a relationship is, Carm.” You pat the space next to you. “Sit with me?”
“I keep having to remind myself of that.” He sinks into the bed next to you. “I’m so sorry for talking about you like that. Like you’re only doing this out of…I don’t know. Obligation.” He drags a hand across his tired face. “You don’t deserve that. I’m sorry. I just, I just think that—that I’m—fuck—“
“Slow down, Carm,” you say quietly. “It’s okay. You don’t need to force it. I’m listening.” He smiles bitterly at you, and you recognize the love in it easily. He takes in a deep breath before continuing. 
“I still have a hard time believing that anyone cares about me. I can’t even believe that you—love me.” You can practically see the shame rolling off of him in waves. “And it makes me scared.”
“Love is scary, isn’t it?” You say softly. He just nods. “It scares me, too. That’s why I kept pestering you when you got home. I…” You blink quickly. You don’t wanna cry again. “It scares me when I don’t know what you’re thinking. Because…I dunno. It just does.”
“Yeah?” You nod. He has this thoughtful expression that he holds for a moment as he stews on your words. “I didn’t think about it like that. I’m sorry. I think…I think when you kept asking me if I was okay, it…” he sighs, scratches at his temples. “I felt like I was…getting back into a corner. I think.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize.” You take his hand in yours. “I can see how that must’ve felt really bad.”
“It’s okay. It’s not your fault that I’m like this. I think—I think it just reminded me of my mom. We would always ask her if she was okay, because she’s fucking crazy, yknow? We didn’t wanna step on her toes. But it turns out we did anyway. And the way I acted just now, I was just like…” He can’t even get the words out. “I’m sorry,” he apologizes again, voice choked with emotion. “I love you. So much. You know that, right?”
“You tell me everyday. How could I not?” You pull him into a hug, tight and warm, and he instantly wraps his arms around you. “You’re not your mom, Carm. You're nothing like her. Okay?” 
“I don’t wanna be like her,” he whispers. “I don’t wanna be like her.”
“You’re not,” you remind him softly. “And you won’t be.”
Carmy leans back to look at you, but he remains close. His expression is knotted with pain. You run your thumb over his furrowed brow, and it makes his mouth curve upwards in a smile. It’s fleeting, but it was there. 
“I’m sorry,” he repeats. “I’ll try to open up more. Let you know what I’m thinking.”
Suddenly, you think about when you first started dating Carmy. He was so scared to open up to you emotionally, but with gentle prodding, he fell apart instantly. There was a hunger in him to be known by others, to be seen by you, and it scared him to death. You see that same fear in him now, but you also see how much he’s grown since then. You doubt you would’ve been able to have this conversation at all in the first couple months. 
That makes you happy in a way you’re not quite able to word properly.
“Thank you. But I hope you also know I don’t want to force you. I just wanna help. And…” You measure your words carefully. “I’ll try not to let it freak me out so much. Because if you’re not in the mood to talk, I want you to know that’s okay. Okay?”
“Okay. I’d like that. If I don’t want to talk, I’ll just tell you. Instead of…blowing a fuse.” He laughs dryly. 
“I’d like that too.” You let out an exhale of relief you didn’t realize you were holding. “Wow, Carm. Look at us. Communicating!”
“I know.” That makes him laugh for real this time, and you’re laughing too. “I couldn’t do it without you.”
“I think you could. But I certainly like doing it with you.” His smiles grows wider at that, brimming with affection. 
“Let me make this up to you, baby.” He pulls you in for a kiss, slow and deep. You let out a little noise when his lips meet yours. 
“Make it up to me?” Carmy’s tongue is on your neck now. Oh. “Aren’t you tired? You—you have work tomorrow—?”
“Don’t care.” You fall back onto the bed, and the blankets deflate under you. You stare up at Carmy, his curls hanging by his face. “You’re more important.”
“Well, if you insist…” You giggle, and your giggles get louder when Carmy pulls up your shirt to blow raspberries against your stomach. “Carmy, quit it—oh—!”
He makes it up to you in full and more by keeping his head between your legs for the rest of the night. By the end of it you can't remember what you were mad about in the first place.
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omg this just popped into my head and i desperately need it like i literally will not be able to stop thinking about it about it till it is written but, ethan landry x reader fic based on gods and monsters by lana del rey oml like it would be phenomenal… i don’t want it to incorporate the lyrics i just want it based on the idea of the song? but not about them being actual gods and monsters like to her ethan is a god. especially the lyrics “this is heaven, what i truly want. it’s innocence lost.”. basically reader is super innocent and ethan sees her as an angel and feels the need to ruin her and she sees him as a god and is obsessed with him. super smutty and him praising her and talking her through it. i know this was a lot but i am obsessed with your writing and i think if you wrote this it would be amazing, but only if you’re comfortable 🫶☺️
HI! I hope this was what you wanted. 💕
Gods & Monsters - Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader
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This contains SMUT - Minors DNI
Summary: You're obsessed with Ethan and he's obsessed with you, but he'd dying to destroy your innocence.
Contains: Fluff-ish moments, Smut - Oral(m and f receiving), fingering, p in v, riding, rough-ish sex. Reader isn't a virgin but doesn't have a lot of experience.
A/N: This was one of the fics I lost the other day, and I'm so sad because I liked what I'd already written before. BUT I was determined to get this done lmao
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You didn’t expect to fall so hard for Ethan Landry. What started as a small crush on one of your friends led to full-blown infatuation. Once you found yourself hanging off every word that slipped past his perfect lips, always making sure you were beside him whenever you’d go out with your friends, and even letting your grades slip a little just so you’d have the excuse to be alone with him to study, you realized how fucked you were. You didn’t care, though, because he’s everything you wanted.
He was tall, and very attractive. But what really sucked you in was the way he lit up whenever he talked to you about the things he was passionate about. The way his voice sounded first thing in the morning when you’d all spent the night at Tara’s. The way he ignored any other girls that looked in his direction, at least when he was with you.
Ethan was just as caught up in you as you were with him. The first night you walked into Tara’s, he could’ve sworn you were literally glowing. He thought you were the most gorgeous girl he’d ever seen, and once he talked to you and realized how sweet you were, he knew he had to make you his. He found himself daydreaming about taking you on dates, holding your hand, kissing you. But sometimes, his thoughts weren’t so innocent.
He knew you weren’t a virgin, but after a drunken game of ‘Never Have I Ever’ turned sexual, he learned that there were a lot of things you hadn’t done. He wanted to be the first, and hopefully only person you’d do those things with. He even went as far as wondering how you’d sound, the faces you’d make, how much of him you could take in your mouth before it was too much. He felt a little guilty from time to time for thinking about you in that way, because you were just so sweet. But the desire to destroy your innocence just kept getting stronger, no matter how hard he’d try to push those thoughts about you to the side.
The two of you shamelessly flirted with each other, so much that the rest of your friends thought there was something more going on than there was. It wasn’t uncommon for Ethan to pull you into his lap whenever there wasn’t an empty seat available beside him, or for the two of you to be so caught up in your own conversations that you’d forget your friends were even there. He wanted to take things to the next level, but he’d always get nervous and shut down whenever he got close to kissing you.
You lived down the hall from Tara, which made it so convenient for you and Ethan’s study sessions. Whenever you had plans with your friends, Ethan would come to your apartment to study with you before. With exams coming up, Ethan couldn’t stop thinking about how he needed to get over his nerves and finally make a move. He knew he’d still get to see you, but he wouldn’t have the excuse to spend alone time with you.
As Ethan sat on your bed, his fingers moving against his keyboard, you started to get bored. He kept peaking over his laptop screen to see you stretched out on your stomach at the foot of your bed, scrolling through your phone.
“That’s not homework,” he said, playfully scolding you as you sat up to look at him.
“If I have to keep looking at anything school related, I’m going to go crazy.”
“We still have over an hour before we have to go to Tara’s. What would you like to do?” He asked, closing his computer to give you his attention.
“We could watch a funny movie. I need to laugh,” you suggested, as he shook his head.
“We don’t have enough time for that…but,” he said, sitting his laptop on the bed beside him. “I know how to make you laugh.”
He smirked as he crawled closer to you. You knew what was coming, the slight look of panic in your eyes making him chuckle before his fingers dug into your sides.
“Ethan,” you whined, trying to grab at his hands to pull them off you. You were starting to tear up from laughing, and your breathing was getting heavier. “Stop it! You’re going to make me fall off the bed!”
“I’d never let that happen,” he said, his fingers not letting up.
“Seriously, Ethan!” You were starting to wheeze from laughing so hard, so he finally pulled his hands away. You placed one of your hands on your chest as you tried to take deep breaths, as Ethan settled back into the spot he was in before on your bed. “That was so mean.”
“I think it’s funny that you’ve never tried to get me back,” he said, a smug look on his face. “Is it because I’m stronger than you?”
“Knowing you, you’d have me pinned to the bed so I wouldn’t be able to move while you tickled me.”
Ethan got a little caught up in the idea of that. He wanted to have you pinned to the bed, but not to tickle you. He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t notice you were moving closer to him, the only thing bringing him back into the moment was when your fingertips started to move against his sides.
“Hey!” he said through his laughter as he grabbed at your hands. You weren’t going to give up easily, so you moved to straddle him, pulling your hands away every time he reached for them. “Please, you gotta stop!”
“No,” you said, your hands moving further up his ribs, making him laugh even harder. He knew it wasn’t meant to be sexual, but the way your ass was rubbing against him as you moved was making him hard.
“Stop!” he yelled, finally grabbing your hands. Your face dropped as you looked at him, and he immediately felt guilty for yelling at you like that. “I’m sorry…you’re just,” he said, letting out a gasp once you started to move off him, your eyes going wide once you felt how hard he was underneath you. “That. You’re making me hard.”
“Oh,” you softly said, staring at the bulge in his jeans. “Is it a bad thing that I did?”
“No…I just didn’t want to make you uncomfortable,” he sighed, before he sat up. “Does it make you uncomfortable that you do that to me?”
He watched your cheeks turn pink at his question. This wasn’t how he planned on making his move, but the door was wide open for him to have the conversation.
“No,” you said, “have I made you hard before?”
“I get hard just thinking about you,” he confessed, the sexual tension in the room getting stronger as each second passed.
You were starting to get nervous as you sat there. You didn’t have the most experience in the world, your previous sexual encounters with your ex mainly consisted of you just laying there and waiting until he was done, so you didn’t know how to give a blow job. But you wanted to learn. You wanted Ethan to teach you.
“Can I…suck it?” you asked, his eyes growing wide. “Sorry, stupid question.”
“No, it’s not stupid…do you want me to tell you how to do it?” he asked, as you smiled and nodded. “Okay, uh, I’ll just get these off.”
He slid off the side of your bed and unbuttoned his jeans before shimmying them down his legs. You gawked as you saw the tent in his boxers, wondering if you were in over your head for even thinking you could do this.
“I hate to ask this…” no he didn’t. “But would you want to get on the floor? It’d be easier for you.” You nodded as you slid off the side of the bed and stood in front of him. “Wait,” he said, once you started to drop to your knees. You stood back up to face him, as he leaned in to kiss you. You needily kissed him back, your hands on his cheeks as he started to rub your hips. Once you pulled back, he smiled at you. “You don’t feel like you have to do this, right?”
“No, I want to do this,” you said, looking at him as you sank onto the floor.
“Fuck…eye contact like that is good,” he said, running his fingers through your hair. “I guess I’ll just slide these down.”
His fingers hooked under the waistband of his boxers as he slid them down his thighs, his cock springing free right in front of your face. He let out a sweet laugh once he noticed how wide your eyes got.
“Do I just put it in my mouth?” you asked, as he groaned at how innocent you were.
“Let’s start with just touching it,” he suggested, as you nodded and reached your hand up. “Wrap your hand around it…just like that, baby,” he said, taking a deep breath as he tried to contain himself. “Now move your hand back and forth, but not too fast.”
You did as he said, your eyes glancing between his and his cock. You weren’t sure if you were good at what you were doing, but he was breathing heavier the longer you did it.
“Do you want to try to put it in your mouth?” he asked, as you nodded and leaned forward. “How about you just do what you think is right and I’ll tell you if it’s bad or good?”
“Okay,” you shyly said, hoping that you would get it right.
Ethan’s biggest fantasy was coming to fruition. His head was spinning as you took the head of his cock in your mouth, your hand still stroking him. Even though you weren’t a virgin, he still felt like he was devirginizing you, at least in this way.
“That’s perfect,” he said, his eyes looking into yours as you sucked on his sensitive tip. “Try to take a little more.”
You did as he said, easing a little more of him into your mouth. His hand tangled in your hair, his grip loose. The last thing he wanted was to push you too far and make you want to stop when you’d just started. He was about to ask you for more, when you boldly took as much of him as you could in your mouth, to the point that you were gagging around him. You quickly pulled your head back, refusing to make eye contact like you’d just done something wrong.
“Hey,” Ethan said, his hand that was in your hair moved to your chin. He tilted your head so you’d look at him, your eyes already watery from the gagging. “If you want to keep going, there’s a little tip that helps with that.”
He showed you the thumb trick, and talked to you about bobbing your head too, along with moving your hand. Once you felt like you had a better understanding of what you needed to do, you leaned forward, taking just as much of him in your mouth as you did before.
You were still gagging a little, but not as bad as you did the first time. Your mouth kept getting more and more wet, the feeling making Ethan groan. His hand snaked back in your hair as he fought the urge to thrust in your mouth.
“You’re doing such a good job,” he praised, “Twist your hand a little…oh fuck.”
You were catching on quickly, and Ethan was so proud of you. Your eyes stayed on his, even when tears started to slip past your lower lash line. He knew he wasn’t going to last much longer, his grip on your hair tightening.
“Can I try something?” he asked, his eyes pleading with yours. You hummed around him to let him know he could, because the last thing you wanted to do was pull him out of your mouth.
He started to thrust past your lips as you gagged around him, your free hand gripping your thumb as hard as you could. Big, fat teardrops were flowing down your cheeks, but you were loving it. His eyes were fluttering as his jaw dropped open, but he still stayed focused on you, not wanting any of this to be too much.
“I’m gonna cum,” he said, his voice a little raspy from his panting. “Can I cum in your mouth?”
You hummed around him again to respond, the vibrations around his cock sending him over the edge as his hand tensed up in your hair, tugging on it harder than he wanted to. You just kept moaning around him, so turned on as his salty cum coated your tastebuds. He gave a few more weak thrusts as his hand in your hair relaxed before he slowly slid out of your mouth.
“Are you okay?” he asked, reaching down to take your hand. He helped you to your feet before wiping the tears off your cheeks.
“Yeah, I liked that,” you said, your voice raw from all the gagging. “Can we do it again?”
“We can do anything you want to,” he said, placing his hands on your hips to hold you close. “But right now, can I eat you out?”
“Oh, Um,” you mumbled, your cheeks getting rosy at the idea. “You want to do that?”
“I’m not your ex,” he said, smirking at you. “I bet he never made you cum.”
“He didn’t,” you sighed, as Ethan backed you towards the bed.
“I will,” he said, as he started to lift your shirt.
Ethan got you out of your jeans and shirt, leaving you in just your bra and panties. He hovered over you, his mouth moving against your neck as his hand roamed your body. You were squirming as you tried to patient, but it was getting harder for you, especially when his hand reached in between your thighs and rubbed you over your panties.
“So wet,” he mumbled against your neck, his breath giving you goosebumps. “I can’t wait to taste you.”
He pulled his hand away as he sat up, grabbing your hands for you to sit up, too. His hands reached around you to unhook your bra, his mouth not leaving your neck as he slid the straps down your arms and threw it to the other side of the room.
“We have to go to Tara’s soon,” you reminded him, as he pulled away and started to laugh.
“We’re probably going to be late.”
He leaned down, taking one of your nipples in his mouth. You started to whimper as he sucked, pulling off it with a soft pop before he moved to the other side.
Once his lips trailed further down your body, you were trying so hard to be in the moment, but your mind started to wander. You practically worshiped the ground Ethan walked on, and all he wanted in that moment was you, but you still didn’t know if this was going to anything more than a friends with benefits situation, or if he wanted to be with you like you wanted to be with him.
“What’s on your mind?” he asked, pulling you from your thoughts as he started to kiss your inner thighs.
“Mmm, it’s nothing,” you moaned once he started to suck your flesh into his mouth.
He pulled away to look at you, “No, tell me.”
You sighed in frustration, both from him stopping and you really didn’t want to pour your heart out to him in that moment. But he just kept staring at you, waiting for you to say something.
“I’ve…fuck,” you sighed, taking a deep breath. “I want this…but I need to know how you feel about me.”
He smiled at you as your blush spread across your cheeks. “You haven’t realized that I’m in love with you yet?”
“In love with me?” you asked, as he slid your panties down your legs.
“Mhm, I’m fucking obsessed with you,” he said, before he buried his head between your thighs.
“Shit,” you gasped, as his tongue licked fat stripes from your entrance to your clit.
He started to focus on your clit, giving all the attention to your needy bundle of nerves. You looked down to see that he was watching you, taking in all the little faces you were making. He was alternating between swirling and lightly sucking, the stimulation making your entire body feel hot.
He slid one of his fingers inside of you, your legs feeling shaky as he moved it against the spot inside of you that you weren’t even sure existed. He watched you start to fall apart over just one finger, and once he added another one, you were a whimpering mess. He licked your clit a few more times before he pulled away to talk to you, his fingers still moving.
“You never told me how you feel about me,” he said, curving his fingers to apply more pressure.   
“Unfff, fuck,” you whined, your hands tightly gripping the comforter underneath you.
“If you don’t tell me, I’ll stop,” he playfully said, smirking as his fingers brought you closer to the edge.
Your brain was turning to mush, but you pulled yourself together for a second, not wanting him to stop. “I’m in love with you, too.”
He leaned back down to your clit, sucking on it a little harder than he had before. Your whines got louder as the euphoric feeling washed over you, his free hand holding down your bucking hips. It felt so good that your eyes started to water, your entire body tingling as he worked you through it.
Just as you came down from your high, you heard a knock coming from your front door. You were too fucked out from Ethan’s fingers to even care, as he started to laugh.
“I bet that’s Tara,” he said, as he laid down beside you. “We’re late.”
“Fuck,” you groaned, lazily sliding your naked body off the side of your bed, landing on your feet.
You grabbed your robe and put it on, your legs still wobbly as you made your way to the front door. You looked out the peephole to see Tara and Mindy.
“Hey,” Tara said once you opened the door, her smile dropping once she noticed you weren’t dressed. “Are you still coming over?”
“Yeah, I’ll be there soon,” you said, noticing both of them staring at something. “What?”
“Is Ethan here?” Mindy asked, a smirk playing on her lips as she realized what was going on.
“Yeah, we’ll both be over in a few,” you said, still not understanding what they were looking at.
“Okay…you might want to cover that up before you come over,” Mindy said, gesturing to your neck as Tara started to giggle.
You bit your bottom lip as the embarrassment hit, realizing that Ethan sucking on your neck earlier must’ve left a hickey.
“No, you know what? You guys finish whatever ‘studying’ you’re doing, then come over. We’re sorry for interrupting,” Tara said, fighting off her laughter as she and Mindy walked down the hall to her apartment.
You sighed as you closed the door, knowing that you and Ethan were definitely going to be grilled once you did go to Tara’s.
“Why didn’t you tell me you put this on my neck?” you said, glancing at it in the mirror after you walked back in your room.
“Are you embarrassed that they know you’re mine?” he questioned, walking up behind you. He rested his head against your shoulder, but your mind was in a haze once you felt his hard cock pressing against you.
“You know how long I’ve wanted to be yours? I’m definitely not embarrassed,” you said, making him laugh as he moved your hair to the side the place more kisses to your neck.
“Well, I did hear them say we should finish studying,” he said, as his hand reached over to untie your robe. “I’m not done studying you yet.”
“Fuck,” you gasped, when his hand started to massage one of your breasts, gently pinching at your nipple. Your back leaned against his chest as you relaxed into his touches, your breathing getting heavier as his hand trailed lower. “Can I be on top?”
“For a little bit, yeah,” he mumbled against you as his fingers rubbed across your still-soaked pussy. “Is that okay?”
“Mhm.”
You had so many things you wanted to do with Ethan, so many things you hadn’t experienced yet. Any nerves you had about your inexperience faded, your confidence showing as you got on top to straddle him.
“Take your time, I don’t want to hurt you,” he said, as you grabbed his cock that was resting against his lower stomach. You lined him up with your entrance and started to sink down on him. “So tight,” he groaned, as you tried to get used to the stretched-out feeling. He wasn’t all the way in and you already felt so full.
“Mmm,” you moaned once you’d taken all of him, your ass meeting the top of his thighs.
You took a minute, trying to adjust your legs to the most comfortable position as his hands ran up your sides. Once you started to bounce on him, his hands went to your hips to help you move. Your bottom lip went in between your teeth as you held eye contact with him. Once he started to thrust up into you, your hands went to your breasts, massaging them as he helped your hips meet his.
He loved having you on top, and he loved watching the way your tits bounced, but he needed to be in control. He needed to push your limits a little until you were falling apart underneath him. He held your hips in place a few seconds before he flipped you over, a squeal flying out of your mouth. He smirked down at you before he grabbed the back of your thighs, pushing them toward you with his hands.
“Stop me if anything hurts, okay?” he said, as you smiled and nodded. He slid back inside of you, his hands right below the back of your knees as he started to pound into you.
Your mouth fell open as he fucked you, every sound that built up in your throat flying out. He was so deep, but the tip of his cock hit your g-spot with every thrust.
“That feel good?” he asked, pushing your legs closer to you. You babbled in response, the new angle making him go even deeper. “Look at you, so cock drunk, so perfect.”
All you could do was whimper as you felt yourself getting close. You were fighting to keep your fluttering eyes open, because you didn’t want to miss a single second of watching him. The beautiful boy that you’d fallen so hard for had a thin layer of sweat on his forehead that his curls were starting to stick to, his bottom lip was in between his teeth. You felt so submissive as you just laid there and took it. You were okay with him using you in whatever way he wanted, because you’d do anything for him.
“You gonna cum, baby?” he asked, as he felt your walls start to flutter.
“Yes!” you cried out, your hands shakily gripping the comforter again as the wave crashed into you so hard your vision got fuzzy. You kept trying to talk as he fucked you through it, his teeth showing as he smiled at your babbles.
“I’m almost there, baby. Can you take it a little longer?” he asked as your eyes peeled open to look at him.
“Yes, it feels so good,” you moaned, as he sped up, chasing his orgasm.
Your body kept jolting like little aftershocks from the intensity of your own orgasm, and you were feeling a little overstimulated, but the last thing you wanted was for him to stop. He was going so fast and so deep as he panted, mumbling your name as his head started to roll back.
“Gonna…fuck. Cum,” he said, pulling his cock out and shooting his release all over your tummy. He caught his breath as he looked at you through his hooded eyes. You smiled at him as he moved to lay on the bed beside you.
“I think we need to shower,” you said, glancing down at his cum on you. “I don’t really have anything that has a manly scent, though.”
“That’s okay. I’ll get to smell like you,” he said, his fingertips brushing against your arm.
After your shower with Ethan, you concealed the giant purple mark on your neck and took the walk of shame over to Tara’s. Your friends got quiet as you walked in, glancing back and forth between you and Ethan.
“Sooo,” Chad said, noticing Ethan’s wet hair, “Did you two finally realize that you’re meant to be together?”
“Oh yeah,” Ethan said, as Chad walked over to dap him up.
“It’s about time. It was getting exhausting to watch the two of you,” Mindy said, as Tara nodded in agreement.
You, Ethan and Chad walked over to sit on the couch as Mindy pushed play on the movie she was waiting to start until you got there. After a few minutes, Chad looked over to Ethan.
“Dude, this is a little blunt, but you smell so good right now.”
You started to giggle as Ethan laughed and wrapped his arm around you, holding you close.
“He’s right, you do smell good.”
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Im not really sure if I am or not so I'm going here.
WIBTA for forcing someone to give me closure?
Hi, I (22NB) have a crush on a guy I'll call C (21M). I've had feelings for him for a very long time even though we don't know each other that well. I was tired of not knowing him and only seeing him every once in a while, so on his birthday (the only day I was sure I could see him).
I told him I liked him, but I didn't know him well, so I was interested in getting to know him better over time. I also understood that we were both busy with college and work, so we might not spend a lot of time together this semester.
He reacted vaguely receptive to my confession. He was nice about it and told me he also wanted to get to know me better.
A few months later and the ambiguity is killing me. He never said he returned or didn't return these feelings, and I don't really understand hints or implied language unless they're obvious. I know I should move on at this point, but I'm stubborn, and the nature of the ambiguity leads me to believe that there might be something more in the future.
What I really need is a direct yes or no, but I'm afraid it'll ruin our friendship. And I'm afraid to let go of our friendship but I really can't ignore these anxious what if's.
The breaking point for me is that today we hung out with his friends, and they started talking about relationships, and he said he'd like to find someone one day. I didn't make eye contact and became quieter afterward. I really dont know what to think, and all I did was feel angry and depressed.
Later, I told him I wanted to talk privately at a later date, but we have not had this talk yet because I don't know what to say and I feel stupid for wanting to say it.
I feel like he doesn't care about my feelings and just wanted to keep being friends by not telling me directly what he felt.
I feel like I'm being an asshole because I am forcing my mental well-being on him for closure and potentially throwing away our friendship because of some feelings I can't tamper down or ignore.
I feel like I'm being a weird, desperate incel but I also feel like he's trying to avoid a conversation with me. He never talks to me first, and even though he is nice to me and kind, I just feel like I don't matter to him at all.
Would I be the asshole for forcing this from him? I feel like the only person who'd really benefit is me. If I am rejected, I can accept that, and if I am not, then I can feel a little more secure with where I stand with him.
If he rejects me, he might lose me as a friend (because I will want time away from him to process it). I can't forsee him returning my feelings because if he wanted to be with me, we would have already been working our to that together by now. Am I just impatient? WIBTA for doing this?
What are these acronyms?
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morelikeravenbore · 2 days
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✨Sebastian Sallow Fluff Alphabet
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My personal headcanons based on the way I imagine and write Sebastian in How to Make a Villain.
This template is from this post by snowluvs and is definitely worth a read and a reblog! I loooove reading Sebastian headcanons so feel free to write your own, too!
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A - Attractive - what do they find attractive about their partner?
We all know that Sebastian has a bit of a savior complex, so he's attracted to a partner who trusts him with their vulnerability by letting him protect them, care for them and fuss over them. However, he also likes a challenge, so someone with a bit of backbone to go with their vulnerability would really pique his interest. It doesn't matter what form that backbone takes, be it academically-focused, impressive duelling prowess, or just someone whose not afraid to call him out when he's acting out of line, Sebastian is undeniably attracted to that spark.
Read on 👇
B - Body - what is their favourite part of their partner’s body?
Given that he craves deep and genuine emotional connection with a partner, he's very drawn to the face: stroking your cheeks, kissing the corners of your mouth, your eyelids, your brows. He finds any excuse to touch your face, whether it be brushing your hair back behind your ear or tenderly wiping food or smudges from your chin with his thumbs. When being intimate, he holds your face between his hands, pressing his forehead to yours, never breaking eye contact.
C - Cuddle - how do they like to cuddle?
Sebastian is a squasher. He needs to feel physically close to you and will often forget this own size and strength in his desperation to hold you closer, closer, closer. He hugs you so tightly you can't breathe, or else lays his entire body weight on top of you when you're lying down together or sharing a bed. You often have to remind him to back up a little lest he squeeze the life outta you with his love.
D - Dates - what does their ideal date look like?
Sebastian is spontaneous and impulsive, but beneath all that bravado and charm, he is also quite afraid of rejection, so he might not always straight out "ask" you on a date. Rather, you might find yourself accidentally having dinner together at the Three Broomsticks, or huddled for hours in a cozy bookshop he "stumbled upon" at random. Sebastian considers any time spent alone with you a date, and would later tease you about how many "dates" you've already been on without ever being asked.
E - Equal - are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?
Generally speaking, Sebastian has a hard time relinquishing control to another. Given his history, he is used to taking charge, solving problems on his own and shouldering the burdens of everyone he cares about — and it goes without saying that he can be incredibly stubborn about accepting help or support, even when he genuinely needs it. However, this does tend to lead to mental and physical overwhelm; decisions become impossible, his body aches with exhaustion, and sometimes the boy just needs you to baby him — while still giving him the illusion that he has everything under control ;)
F - Fight - would they find it easy to forgive their partner? how are they fighting?
My personal headcanon that Sebastian is a Virgo sun, Aries rising. His Aries means he's reactive and oftentimes at the mercy of his more intense emotions (such as anger, jealousy — being ruled by Mars). He doesn't always communicate in a healthy way, he lashes out, snaps, or jumps to wild conclusions that don't make any sense. However, being a Virgo sun means he's ultimately a caregiver with a deep need to fix things and look after you, so he's very quick to apologise and make things right again.
G - Gifts - how do they feel about gift giving? what are their habits when it comes to this?
His gifts are either very practical (something you'll use every day), or something very sentimental (something that once belonged to his mother).
When it comes to receiving gifts, he doesn't believe he deserves them, so giving him something uselful like an interesting book, a set of quills, or a planner is the best way to spoil him without making him uncomfortable. However, if you gift him something sentimental, or something you made especially for him, he'll treasure it for the rest of his life.
H - Holding Hands - when / how do they like to hold hands?
If this boy can hold your hand, he will hold your hand, and if he can't hold your hand, he'll play with your fingers, trace the lines of your palms, brush his pinky against yours. You're his anchor, and your hands are the easiest part to hold on to.
I - Injury - how would they act if their partner got hurt?
Given his history with his parents and his twin, he is completely overbearing any time you're sick or injured. He'll fuss, worry, devise a strict recovery regime, won't allow you to lift and finger, and make you stay in bed long after you're well again. He'll research cures, studies, information about whatever it is that ails you, and will likely tell you all about it in great detail. This is where that lovely backbone of yours will come in handy, because you'll definitely have to sit him down and tell him to relax.
J - Jealousy - do they get jealous easily? how do they deal with it?
For all his wonderful strengths, Sebastian suffers from insecurities born from a lifetime of losing those he loves. His jealousy stems not from your actions, but from a deep-seated fear that you're eventually going to realise that he's as rotten as he believes himself to be and leave him. He can be a bit much, but communication is key.
K - Kisses - how do they like to kiss their partner?
Sebastian loves to kiss your face aaaall over, but once he gets started, he finds it hard to stop. Boy is a kisser, and he can get messy.
L - Love Language - what’s their love language?
Acts of Service and physical affection. Being useful gives him a sense of purpose, and touching gives him a sense of peace, so expect to be well looked after and loved. When receiving love, he responds just as strongly to physical affection, as well as words of affirmation. Tell him he's appreciated and that he's done a good job, and he'll be yours forever.
M - Mornings - how are mornings spent with them?
If you manage to get him into bed before he falls asleep where ever he's been reading or studying, it's a hard job rousing him again. He likes to cuddle, and you'll usually wake up half squashed under his body or tangled up in his arms and legs. He speaks in grunts and groans rather than words, and has super adorable bed hair. He's also usually very hungry in the mornings, so the promise of breakfast will be the motivation for finally getting him up.
N - Nights - how are nights spent with them?
Sebastian loves staying up late and doesn't need much sleep to function. His brain is always running a million miles a minute, so winding down takes him quite a while. He tells you he does his best work at night when the rest of the world is asleep.
O - Open - when would they start revealing things about themselves? how would they do it?
Typically Slytherin, he's evasive about himself and prefers to know everything about you before he opens up. Further to that, theres a lot of pain in Sebastian's heart that he won't share with anyone unless he trusts them completely. But, as Slytherins go, once he does trust you, he'll trust you unconditionally; his secrets will become yours, and yours his, and nothing short of death or betrayal will ever break that bond.
P - PDA - how comfortable are they with pda?
He's a real cheeky little smart arse about it. He loves you so much that he wants everyone to know about. He'll pick you up and spin you around as a standard greeting, sit you in his lap, kiss you midway through a sentence. Sebastian doesn't do things by halves, and the same goes for being in love.
Q - Quirk - what is a random ability that helps the relationship?
His optimism, his adventurous spirit and unquenchable thirst for knowledge means there's never a dull moment in your relationship. Above all else, Sebastian likes to have fun, and your life together will be full of it.
R - Romance - how romantic are they? cliche or creative?
There is nothing conventional or cliche about Sebastian Sallow. In fact, he thrives on being just the opposite. He probably courted you by acting like he was your boyfriend until suddenly he just was, there was likely never any conversation about being official, and the first time he said he loved you was probably in the middle of a heated argument or else said in a way that implied it was already common knowledge to you. But despite his quirks, Sebastian is hopelessly, singularly and passionately devoted to you — just don't expect any grand or sappy gestures of love.
S - Security - how protective are they?
Sebastian is so overprotective that it borders on being overbearing. Truth is, he's terrified of losing you, the one person he loves more than any other, and is prone to bouts of severe anxiety about your health, your commitment to him, and your general safety. His inability to relax is a point of contention in your relationship, and one that you both need to continually work on overcoming together. Communication is key, even when Sebastian jumps to conclusions and assumes the worst. He's not perfect, but he's trying.
T - Talking - what do they like to talk about?
Being a highly intelligent Slytherin means Sebastian loves getting deep. Nothing excites him more than discussing magical ethics, or taboo subjects like the Dark Arts or the use of the Dementors kiss against prisoners. He's unafraid to argue his point and loves a lively debate, but he has mental capacity to respect all viewpoints — even if they conflict with his own. He yearns to understand the inner workings of the mind and takes great pleasure in trying to understand opinions and perspectives that differ to his own. Any subject that expands or challenges his understanding of the world is taken on with great enthusiasm.
U - Understanding - how well do they know their partner?
He's a fast learner, very observant, and madly in love with you (obviously), so he knows basically everything about you. But sometimes he likes to think he knows you better than you know yourself. He needs to be reminded every so often that you are capable of looking after yourself, and that he doesn't need to solve every little problem on his own without being asked.
V - Vaunt - what are they proud of? do they like to show their partner off?
Aside from his intelligence, his quick wit and his sense of humour, he is most proud of his innate optimism, which (thanks to your help) has remained in tact despite all the tragedies and hardships he's endured in his comparatively short life. But more than that, he's proud to have you by his side: the embodiment of goodness and love that he never believed he deserved.
His egotistical side enjoys showing you off — you are, after all, the most attractive person he's ever seen, and having you by his side gives his confidence a little boost — but he can become a bit possessive or jealous if he's feeling insecure.
W - Whole - would they feel incomplete without their partner?
Abandonment issues and childhood trauma means Sebastian holds his loved ones very, very dear to his heart. Without you, he'd still be the driven, intelligent and ambitious Sallow he was born to be, but he'd likely lose the motivation to reach his full potential. Having lost every important person in his life, his desire to better himself after all his past mistakes is soley inspired by you.
X - XOXO - are they affectionate?
Physical affection is both how he expresses love and how he feels love; physical touch grounds him in reality and reminds him that you are safe and near. Smooth back his hair, tenderly touch his face, or play with his fingers and watch how fast he melts.
Y - Yearning - how well do they cope when they’re separated from their partner?
Since you are his home, he feels incomplete and off-kilter when he's away from you. And though he tries to honour your individuality, if you're apart for too long, he'll start to have intrusive thoughts about every bad thing that might happen if he's not there to protect you. Needless to say, when you are finally reunited, he greets as you if several decades have kept you apart — like a big, needy puppy.
Z - Zzz - what are some sleeping habits of theirs?
This boys sleeping habits are a nightmare, precisely because he has a lot of them. In fact, he actively avoids sleep, preferring to stay up reading or researching until he's tired enough to fall into an immediate slumber. Usually, you'll find him slumped over on a table or still snoring on the couch, still fully clothed, but if you do happen to get him into bed, he can't sleep without some part of his body touching yours.
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softest-punk · 3 days
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With Spring here I was thinking about gardening, and spinning the idea of a Dreamling with Hob and Hob growing heirloom/heritage vegetables and the like.
Possibly human AU with Hob realizing that he has seeds or actual plants growing on an old bit of property that are incredibly rare/people think don't exist anymore/don't even know about.
So he builds a garden and quietly reintroduces them through a gardening club or something, and Dream hears about Hob of course he has to investigate.
Because rare plants, of course. Not this Hob person or that smile of his.
Hello anon I could not imagine any version of Dream caring for even one second about any vegetable HOWEVER I could imagine burned out landscape architect Dream so I have noodled around with that for 2.7k and thrown the rest on the WIP pile 😅
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Before securing an appointment to meet him, Dream knows two facts about Hob Gadling. The first is that he is a professor of history. The second, and more relevant to him, is that he has been cultivating a species of dog rose which had been believed entirely mythical until he stumbled across a patch of it two years prior.
The knowledge of these two facts—and only these two facts—makes the man who opens the door quite a surprise. A man no older than Dream, and very possibly younger, wearing worn jeans and a soft, equally worn jumper, and a smile which, coupled with his deep brown eyes, no doubt gets him anything he wants from anyone.
“Professor Gadling?” Dream asks, almost certain he must have the wrong house.
The man’s smile brightens. “Got it in one,” he says, offering a hand. “You must be Dream.”
Dream takes the offered hand, still a touch stunned. “I am, yes.”
“Call me Hob,” Hob says. “Come in, come in.”
He steps back to allow Dream to enter the narrow hallway of his unassuming terrace. Ex-council housing, but well and truly so. Hob will be the second generation to have inherited it.
“I’m sure you’re dying to see it, so I’ll take you through to the garden first. Then we can have a cuppa and chat about what exactly you want from me.”
Dream wets his lips. What, exactly, he wants from Hob has changed quite dramatically in the past thirty seconds.
“I… yes. That would be amenable.”
Hob laughs, though Dream feels it is more delighted than mocking, and leads the way straight down the hallway, through a cheerfully bright kitchen that smells of spices and butter and sugar and out into the garden.
The rose he has come here for is immediately in evidence. There is a small patio out here, set with table and chairs, and it is utterly overgrown with the specimen in question. A dog rose, pure white in the centre and blood red at the ends of the petals. Hob calls it a Tudor rose, and has posited the theory that what was once thought to be a late-invented symbol had once had inspiration in reality. It is, Dream understands, a boon to his career.
It might easily be one to Dream’s, as well.
“Oh,” Dream says, his attractive host entirely forgotten for the moment as the rose steals his attention entirely. He approaches it without conscious thought, and before he knows it is brushing his fingers against the petals. What a rare and beautiful thing. This close he can detect the mild, sweet scent of it, distinct from that of the varieties common in floristry, but no less appealing.
“She must like you,” Hob says, interrupting his reverie. “She’s just dropped a flower in your hair.”
“Oh,” Dream repeats, reaching into his hair but not finding the flower in question.
“Hold on,” Hob says, stepping towards him. Dream pauses, and watches as Hob reaches out and plucks the flower from his hair without pulling on a single strand. He holds it out in offering, and a spark of something bright and sweet fizzes over Dream’s skin as their hands brush when he accepts it.
He holds the rose in the palm of his hand, marvelling at the wonder of it. An ancient variety, unknown until so recently. It is a privilege to see it, let alone touch it.
“She’s beautiful,” Dream says. “And I would very much like to come to an arrangement with you.”
Hob breaks into another broad, easy smile. “Make yourself comfortable,” Hob says, gesturing to the table setting. “And I’ll make us both a cuppa. Milk, sugar?”
“Milk,” Dream says. “No sugar. Thank you.”
“My pleasure. Nice to have someone else get excited about it. All my mates think I’m mad. They’re right, obviously, but that’s hardly the point. Back in a tick.”
If Dream watches Hob go inside, it is only on reflex. If his eyes happen to fall below the other man’s belt line, that is purely accidental.
Or potentially related to an extended dry spell. Owing first to having been trapped night and day in a miserable contract with a client who insisted on asking the impossible and raging when Dream was not able to defy the laws of physics adequately, and secondly to the deep-seated burnout it had resulted in.
He had pinned his hopes of renewed interest in his art on this rose. As he looks at it in his hand, be begins to see a glimmer of light. A beautiful, rare, wild thing. Just what he needs to revitalise his career.
The rest of Hob’s garden has the artless beauty of a new foal or a wild heath. Even its current untidiness adds a sort of unconscious glamour, the beauty of a rockstar passed out after a performance, makeup running and costume askew. Dream spends a moment enjoying the riot of it, plants growing wherever they will be happiest, each seemingly chosen for individual appeal rather than to fit into a larger plan. It is the garden of a person who loves not landscaping, but gardening. Who takes pleasure from the act of caring for a space, rather than any high-concept aesthetic qualities.
Some part of him wants to dig his hands into the rich earth and breathe it in, potter about tending to any small ills the plants may be suffering. To enjoy each one of them for what they are again, rather than interacting with them only to buy them in bulk or track down single specimens of the rarest only to be ultimately instructed to plant them in an environment where they will suffer.
Hob returns with tea and a plate of small cakes. The scent of spices—ginger, nutmeg, and cardamom—wafts from them, each one decorated with a single sugared rose petal.
“They’re ginger and rose honey cakes,” Hob explains as he sets a mug of milky tea in front of Dream. “Since roses are your thing.”
Dream raises an eyebrow. “You’re familiar with my work?”
He’s well enough known in his own circles, but does not kid himself that he is any kind of celebrity.
Hob laughs. “Well, I am now. Had to know who this strange man emailing me about my silly little hobby was, didn’t I? You might’ve been a serial killer.”
“I would likely not put that in my portfolio, if I were.”
“Fair point,” Hob says, sipping his tea. “You seem okay, though.”
“I imagined you would be older,” Dream admits. He had expected a man nearing or perhaps exceeding pension age, tweedy and serious. Professors had been, when he had been at university.
Hob beams at him, taking a cake. “That’ll be because I seemed so wise beyond my years when you emailed me.”
Dream means to respond, but is distracted by the noise Hob makes as he takes his first bite of cake. It starts off as a hum of pleased surprise, continues into a happy rumble, and finishes on a frankly obscene moan of satisfaction. He would not admit this aloud with a gun to his head, but Dream is uncertain he has ever caused anyone to make such a sound in bed. Not with that particular depth of feeling.
Hob evidently catches him looking, raises his eyebrows, and pushes the plate an inch closer to Dream.
“They’re good,” he says, licking crumbs from his lips. “I’ll only eat them all if you don’t help me.”
Curiosity being one of Dream’s chief vices, he takes a cake. Secretly, he adores sweets, but tries to avoid them, feeling this a kind of weakness. In this case, though, it would be impolite to refuse, and he does want Hob’s cooperation.
The moment his tongue touches the edge of the little cake, he finds himself making a similar sound to the one Hob had. A soft, pleased grunt of satisfaction as sugar and spice lights up his palate, a surprise touch of rosewater in the thin glaze on top causing his eyes to fall closed as he basks in the perfection of it all.
Hob laughs, but it is not a mocking sound. It is warm, and pleasant, and deeply appealing.
“Good?” he asks.
“Very,” Dream agrees.
Hob grins at him. He looks like nothing quite so much as a pleased little boy.
“Well, they’re for you, so eat as many as you like,” Hob says.
Dream takes another bite. To please his host, obviously.
“So I might as well admit I’ve got no idea what you want with me,” Hob says. “I mean, the rose I guess, but I’m not sure what you want me to do.”
Dream pauses before taking another bite of his cake. “Permission to collect the seeds,” he says. “And cultivate my own. I would also ideally like to run some soil tests and take some other readings, since this specimen seems very happy. I wish to use them in an upcoming display. I realise I am pushing my luck, but if you were amenable, it I would also like to take the precaution of cultivating from cuttings. You would of course be paid for all this. I believe your own plant is a clone?”
“Err. If you mean mine came from a cutting, yeah. No idea how to collect the seeds. Just remember my wife taking cuttings. Explaining all the important bits to me.”
“Your wife?” Dream asks, trying very hard not to feel a twinge of disappointment.
Hob clears his throat. “Late wife,” he says. “Eleanor. This was all hers. I brought the rose home for her. She was already… I mean, I found it on my first proper outing, a hike with a couple of mates, after… y’know. It sort’ve felt like a gift from her. That’s silly, isn’t it?”
Dream swallows down a spike of guilt over his envy. “Not at all,” he says. “It is a beautiful thought. But it does lead me to ask if you’re certain you wish to share it?”
It would be disappointing to walk away from this meeting with nothing, but he cannot take advantage of Hob’s grief. He would never forgive himself for rebuilding his own career on the suffering of another.
“Oh, absolutely,” Hob says. “I was so pleased when you asked. This is all hers, you know?” He gestures to the garden. “I’m no good at it, but I did build this,” he adds, gesturing to the patio this time. “For her. So she could share it with other people. I’ve been struggling to keep the garden up, but I have been trying. It doesn’t get shared so much anymore. There’s actually a whole dining setting in the shed down there. Huge. Eight seats plus a few extras we’d have to bring out so all our friends and family could crowd around the table. I used to love feeding them all. I miss that.”
Dream—purely for Hob’s benefit—finishes his cake, and takes another.
“Sorry,” Hob continues. “You didn’t need to know any of that.”
“I do not mind knowing it,” Dream says. He hesitates, and then, “it is not at all the same, but my wife left me. I have felt… some part of your loss.”
“Did you love her?”
“Yes,” Dream tells his tea. “Very much. Simply… not quite enough for the both of us, as it turned out.”
Hob hums. “Well, you’re right, it’s not quite the same. Just as hard though, I think. Your garden must be beautiful.”
Dream sips his tea. The segue was inelegant, but he means to let it stand.
“I no longer have one. Aside from an ornamental ginger on my kitchen windowsill. I live in a third floor flat.”
“Oh,” Hob says. “But you are a gardener, aren’t you?”
Dream smiles wryly. “I am a landscape architect,” he says. “Gardening is an altogether different profession. Look at my hands.” He offers one to Hob.
Hob, quite by surprise, takes it gently in his own broad, dry, pen-callused hand. Dream watches as he inspects it, running the tips of his fingers along the length of Dream’s own, brushing the pad of his thumb over Dream’s palm. He smiles so that the corners of his eyes crinkle, turning Dream’s hand over, inspecting it thoroughly. “You’ll have to tell me what I’m looking for.”
“Any sign of a single day’s manual labour,” Dream says.
Hob laughs, and squeezes his hand before giving it back. “You’re full of shit.”
Dream blinks at him. “You are not the first person to make this observation.”
Hob laughs again, a low chuckle this time.
“I miss it,” Dream admits. “Digging my hands into the soil. Watching flowers sown with my own hands sprout and bud and bloom. Something to care for.”
He looks down at his own hands then. Clean and soft and with perfectly-manicured nails. Not the hands of a man who has connected with the earth—with much of anything—in a long time.
“You’re making me wish I wasn’t so terrible at it.”
“It can be learned like any other craft. I can neither cook nor bake, but I imagine it is possible to gain these skills if one has the time, opportunity, and inclination.”
“Cooking? Absolutely. But the plants hear me coming, I think.”
Dream thinks otherwise. Dream thinks Hob has been afraid to do the work that needs doing—the cutting back, the culling, the uprooting. The destructive work that must come before the productive result. Afraid to destroy it irreparably in the process.
Dream thinks that he would be similarly afraid, in Hob’s position.
“I don’t want any money,” Hob speaks up, breaking the not uncomfortable silence that had fallen between them. “For the rose, I mean. I just want to share it.”
“I had planned to offer you a five-figure sum,” Dream says. “Which I think you ought to take. I do not imagine history professors to be well paid.”
“We’re not,” Hob says. “That much?” he adds, eyebrow raised.
“For the rights to cultivate it, yes. It is your discovery. It is worth more than you might understand.”
Hob shakes his head. “Don’t want it. You can sell it, if you like. As long as I’m still allowed to give it away.”
Dream had planned to ask for exclusivity, but cannot imagine doing so any longer. Not now that he understands what the rose means to Hob.
“Eleanor would want you to get some value out of it,” Dream says, and then immediately regrets it. He never knew the woman. She might not have wanted anything of the sort.
Hob goes quiet, chewing on his lower lip. Dream braces himself to be asked politely but firmly to leave.
“Probably not,” Hob says. “Other than, y’know, the intrinsic pleasure of flowers, which I do actually get even if they tend to shrivel up and die if I so much as look at them wrong.”
Dream takes a cautious sip of his tea.
“She was always better than me, though. Kinder. Effortlessly generous. I do want something,” Hob says. “She had plans for this garden. Not terribly ambitious ones, but unfinished. I’ve still got them. They look detailed to me, I don’t know how they’d look to you. Anyway. You know what you’re doing, and I don’t. I want you to help me finish the garden like she wanted it finished.”
Dream looks out at the garden. The scruffy edges, the plants which haven’t known the touch of a practiced hand in some time, the weeding getting the better of a lonely widower who lacks the confidence to pull what must be pulled.
He thinks of the feeling of earth under his fingernails, and the sun on his back, and the ache of muscles well-used. The satisfaction of doing something with his own two hands. Shaping the very landscape with his will.
And he thinks of Hob’s smile, and his laughter, and his little spiced cakes topped with rose petals because the only thing he had known about his guest had been that he presumably enjoyed roses.
“Done,” Dream says.
“Seriously?”
“Entirely,” Dream confirms, pleasure curling in his belly at Hob’s obvious surprise. He too can be generous.
Aside from which, it will be good for him. A manageable project for a client who, he can already tell, will be prodigiously undemanding. Exceptionally polite, as well.
“Right,” Hob says, visibly gathering his wits. “Right, great. Deal.”
Hob offers his own hand this time, and Dream shakes it.
“Deal.”
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arcanesea · 2 days
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confession
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PAIRING: choi seungcheol x reader GENRE: idiot in love, friends-to-lovers, angst if you squint WC: 864 WARNING: mentions of alcohol, cursing
"Are you sure you don't want to come?" your roommate peeking from your door, all dressed up and ready for a party. You glance at them before murmuring a low no.
Seungcheol would be there and you're afraid there will be a bloodbath.
You heard them shuffling around the room, ready to leave when they suddenly appeared at your door again.
"Just leave!" you ordered with a laugh. Escorting them to the front door, bidding goodbye. You close the door afterward, sighing. Lately, your relationship with Seungcheol has gone downhill really fast. You're not even dating, not even close. No one even knows both of you used to talk on a daily basis until a week ago.
One thing you know is that he would be there at the party and girls would be dying to talk to him like usual. Except this time he might indulge them. To say that you're jealous would be weird because why would you?
You decided to sleep early, trying to shut the image of Seungcheol and the urge to text him.
It was already past midnight when you were awakened by the sound outside your dorm. You tied your hair, walking towards the front door. Half annoyed, half sleepy.
"Did you forget your key?" you mumble, pulling the door open.
"Thank God!" your roommate shouts. "Cheol said you might already be asleep."
"I was..." you said dryly. Your eyes trained on the guy who held up your half-drunk roommate. No longer sleepy, you're suddenly boiling with rage.
"I'll get going then, I was just escorting them home," Seungcheol said, looking at you. You nod your head, grabbing your roommate by the arm. His hand brushed yours, sending shivers down your spine. It has been weeks since you saw him. Even last week arguments were done through texts with no resolution. You wouldn't care much about who's with him, but it hurts twice more when it's your roommates. Not that you can say anything about that and that's just frustrating.
Your roommate held your arms, tugging on his shirt. You tried to detach them from Seungcheol to no extent because they kept asking him to come in for a moment. You had no choice but to let him in, closing the door behind him afterward. Your roommate, as annoying as they are, immediately walks to the couch and closes their eyes. Mumbling something about a headache.
You curse under your breath before turning to face him.
"I think you can leave now," you told him. "Thank you for driving them back."
"Great, so we're gonna act like nothing happened?" Seungcheol asks.
"Aren't you the one who stopped replying to my text?" you quip back, venom lacing your words. You're watching as his expression changes, jaw clenched.
"I asked you to meet but I guess your reputation matters most to you and you'd rather break this up than be seen going out with me, right?" his words hurt, but you find yourself turning to see your roommate's sleeping state. Wondering if they were listening to a word he said. "You're fucking unbelievable."
"Listen, I don't care if you want to go out with anyone, just not them" you point at your roommate. "You're just going to break their heart."
Like he did yours. But that was mostly your fault for involving even a little bit of feelings in this relationship. You were fine being best friends for the last 5 years. Coming from the same neighborhood, going abroad to the same school. Then acting as if you didn't know each other for the sake of keeping each other as a comfort person.
"And you expect me to believe that shit?" Seungcheol smirks. You really want to smack him at this point, finding it painfully hard not to.
"What the fuck are you talking about?" you hiss back. He took one step closer to you, both hands on his back. Your heart leaps, when did he become so mature? Did you really not care if he went out with just anyone?
"I don't want to go out with just anyone. I thought I was making it obvious about what I wanted," he said, chuckling lightly when your eyes widened. "You."
"That's a shit confession," you replied.
"At least I have the courage to do so?!" Seungcheol complained. "Unlike someone I know who just ghosted despite maybe having mutual feelings."
"I did not," you lied.
"What makes you think I'm talking about you?" he goes back to annoy you. "I'll prepare a better confession with long paragraphs if you at least admit it."
"I really hate you, you know that, right?" you replied, trying not to smile. "I stand by my word before, that's a shit confession, but I don't think I can word it better."
"Fucking finally!" You jump at the sudden roar of your roommate. They sat up straight on the couch, grinning like a Cheshire cat. Seungcheol's ears turned red by the unexpected setup. Both of you become an easy target tonight, blinded by the need to come back to each other to actually notice anything out of the ordinary. "Jeonghan and Joshua owe me 20 bucks each."
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a/n. the pride of a leo is unbearable
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fourmoony · 22 hours
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hey, you could do something with reader telling james (or poly!marauders) that you're pregnant. reader was tense and hesitant about what his reaction would be, as she thought he wouldn't like the idea
thanks for requesting!
f!reader 1k cw: pregnancy
James has his head almost inside the pot of soup on the stove, poking and prodding at it with a wooden spoon as though it may bite him, when you cross through the arched entryway of the kitchen. He turns his head over his shoulder when he hears your socked feet padding across the tiled flooring, glasses fogged up and his smile bright.
"I don't think I did it right." He tells you, forbearing a greeting all together.
His brows hook in the middle when he turns back to the pot, lips pouted just a little. You peek over his shoulder to find a simmering pot of vegetable water and find yourself biting back a smile. Sweet James, your loving and doting boyfriend, always up for a challenge. You don't have the heart to tell him there's entirely too much water and not nearly enough stock in the pot, so you rub his shoulder encouragingly, place a kiss to it, after. "Looks lovely, handsome."
It pulls a warm smile out of your boyfriend, who seems more encouraged by your words than you think he should be. He's so trusting, so loving, leads with his heart and his soul, and nothing else. He puts too much faith in you.
"Remus' never looks like this, but I s'pose thats because he does it in the slow cooker." James placates himself with a shrug, eyes back on the steaming pot.
You hum a mild agreement, pulling yourself up onto the worktop so you're facing James. He likes the company whenever he's cooking. You like the domesticity, the routine, spending time with him whilst completing a task, talking about your day, your friends. It's nice, to be so comfortable with the person you love.
"Did you write down the instructions as he was giving you them? Or are you going from memory?" You ask James apprehensively.
He doesn't reply at first, too occupied with throwing a load of raw potatoes into the pot. They drop to the bottom of the pot with a sickening thud, water splashing over the sides. James winces as a droplet catches the side of his arm and turns to you with a weary look, "From memory. He was going too fast and the landline was crackly."
There's no saving the soup now, so you allow James to continue his ministrations. You'll pretend it's even better than Remus'. Anything for James. Anything to see him smile.
"He said he hopes you're feeling better soon, by the way. Sirius, too." James adds, face dangerously close to the open flame of the gas cooker as he adjusts the heat.
You blanch. You'd mentioned feeling poorly to James yesterday morning, a little tired, a little sick, stiff, the normal beginnings of a cold. The soup makes sense, now. "You asked Remus for his soup recipe because I mentioned feeling a little poorly once?"
James nods, shrugs like it's no big deal.
You've never felt this kind of love before, the kind of care and consideration James has.
"Jamie, I'm not poorly." Your voice is a little unsteady.
You'd wanted to wait, tell him when you'd figured out how you felt about it yourself. Wanted to be sure whether this was something you wanted, something James would want. You know he's a good man, a good person with a massive heart, but you've not been together for as long as you'd have liked, you're not married, there's a list of things that could make James run for the hills and you wouldn't blame him.
But you know him. You know James Potter. He's never ran from anything.
"Well it's too late for that, I've already made the ruddy soup, now." James teases, poking the pudge of your thigh with the tip of the wooden spoon.
"James," You try to garner his full attention, away from the burning vegetable water, "I wasn't poorly."
He frowns, probably trying to pin together the phrase with the way you're acting and comes up with nothing, so he says nothing.
"I'm pregnant."
James doesn't say anything for a minute. You can't read him. Eyes wide, jaw slack, eyebrows lost in the messy tuft of his fringe. Just when you think the silence might choke you, the fire alarm sounds, loud and abrasive. It kick starts your boyfriend's brain and he grabs the nearest tea towel, motioning for you to stay put, and wafts the smoke away from the detector.
After, in the silence that follows, he leans over the kitchen sink and opens the window, turns off the stove.
"When did you find out?" He asks, voice unwaveringly calm.
Your heart slams against your rib cage, scared and begging you to run, "This morning."
James nods, "How do you feel?"
"Nauseous. Confused. Scared."
James softens, crosses the distance between you. His hands are soft on your face when he slots between your legs, eyes swimming with emotion. He smells faintly like OXO stock cubes and his normal cologne as he rests his forehead against yours and heaves a deep breath. "You wanna do this?"
"Only if you do." You answer truthfully.
"I love you, you know that?" His voice comes out hoarse, and you realise he's holding back tears.
Tears spring to your eyes, too, when you nod, "I know."
"There's no one else I'd rather do it with."
Relief washes over you like a bucket of cold water, bringing the air back to your lungs, life back to your heart. You're laughing into the kiss that James presses to your lips, giddy and excited. He presses two gentle pecks there, after, and one to your forehead.
"Holy shit I'm gonna be a Dad." He sounds awed, in disbelief.
You laugh, "Yeah. You are."
"And you're gonna be a Mum."
"That's generally how it works, babe." You say placatingly, thumbs swiping over his rounded cheeks, holding his face in place. His smile is like the sun, bright and blinding. You feel warm all over just looking at it.
"I need to phone Sirius." James announces, turning on his heel to make for the landline.
You shouldn't be surprised, not when Sirius is an extension of your boyfriend's being. So, you simply wait until you can hear James ramming his fingers against the telephone, and dump a couple more stock cubes into the soup.
He can thank you later.
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