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#ah well- a man can only dream right
tonycries · 1 month
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Great With Kids? (You Can Have Mine) - C.K.
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Synopsis. When your younger brother gets a new babysitter, only two questions linger on your mind: 1. How come your parents didn’t trust you in charge? 2. How dare the sexy babysitter be so perfect - it made you want some attention too.
Pairings. Choso Kamo x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, babysitter! Choso, male masturbation, voyeurism (from reader), Choso with nipple piercings and eyeliner hngh, unprotected, 69, choking, overstim, oral (male + female receiving), creampie, dirty talk, friends-to-lovers, Choso is down BAD and always has been, mentioned younger brother, swearing. 
Word count. 9.0k
A/N. Gojo longfic next time because I miss my pretty blue-eyed princess.
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Your younger brother’s new babysitter was hot.
With a capital h. 
Scarily hot, in fact, that it made you wonder why the hell people stopped having babysitters past the age of 14.
Ah, Choso Kamo, the ever-elusive eldest son of the Itadori’s from next door. You still remember the first time you met him - well, mostly. 
The world was rocking gently at exactly 12:34AM after a night out with your old high school friends. And so were you, stumbling tipsily into your driveway, soaking up the warm summer air. 
Fumbling with the doorbell, you fully expected your parents to still be away on that extravagant couples’ cruise they’d won - one that probably cost more than your tuition.
Which also meant you expected the old lady from down the street to be babysitting tonight. Still wide awake and absolutely bursting at the seams to give you a detailed rundown about the neighborhood tea - who’s divorcing who, and her top suspects for who stole her prized garden gnome. 
What you certainly did not expect was for that door to swing open and to find yourself face-to-face with the most ridiculously attractive man you’ve ever laid eyes on. Shirtless.
Dazed, your eyes involuntarily sweep his figure from head to toe - taking in every inch of those dark, sleep-mussed locks falling effortlessly around his slightly smudged eyeliner, all the way down to the chiseled- oh god, were those nipple piercings?
Alas, the universe isn’t on your side, and you don’t get to confirm, because suddenly the door slams right in your face, almost rattling off its hinges at the force. The sound echoes in your ears as you blink in disbelief at what the fuck that was. Was that real - was he real? 
You double check the address you’ve known for years - just in case - because, hell, if you were dreaming then this was a damn good one. Taking a deep breath, you try to focus on something that won’t make your head spin before reaching for the door again.
But before your finger could even graze the doorbell, it cracks open once more. The same mysterious man towered before you, this time - you note, with a tinge of disappointment - wearing a snug t-shirt that still doesn’t do much to hide that godly physique. 
“Not that m’complaining, but who’re you and why’re ya in my house?” you manage to slur out, voice betraying the shiver that runs down your spine at his intense gaze. He simply leans against the doorframe, arms crossed and expression unreadable. 
“Choso,” he drawls lightly, eyes never leaving your face. Shit, even his voice was hot. 
You nod slowly, mind racing as you blearily try to remember just where you’d heard that name before. Some family friend? Nah, you’d know him if that was the case. An actor? God, he sure had the looks. 
Mercifully sensing your struggle, he clears his throat, snapping you out of your drunken reverie. “Not surprised you haven’t seen me around, sweetheart, but my parents live next door.” he offers, tone laced with amusement and something else you can’t place. “M’babysitting your brother for tonight.”
You almost don’t hear the second part of his explanation, because it hits you like a ton of bricks - oh shit, this was Choso? Choso either-a-hallucination-or-a-vampire Kamo? 
In all your years of having the Itadoris as your neighbors, you’d only seen fleeting glimpses of their eldest son - a flash of black hair at the window, or a sculpted, tattooed arm waving off Yuji at the doorway. And, well, you didn’t know what exactly you’d anticipated. You just didn’t expect him to be so…hot. Or stand half-naked in front of you.
God, he made you more dizzy than the alcohol. 
“Damn,” you mutter under your breath, more to yourself than anything. Yet Choso still hears, quirking an eyebrow, a ghost of a smile playing at the corners of his lips. “Everything alright there?” he hums, the hint of a tease in his tone. Smug bastard.
You nod your head, clutching onto the doorframe for support as you lean in closer. “Mhm, perfect.” Wait- was that a blush dusting his face? Damn, this dream just keeps getting better and better.
Liquid courage coursing through you, you bat your lashes, too tipsy to even attempt a wink, “Well, Choso, let me know if ya need any help babysitting, jus’ know I’m always down to-” 
And then - perhaps to save you from the embarrassment of an awful pickup line - that’s when the universe decides to remind you of exactly how many kamikaze shots you’ve downed. The world lurches beneath you. Your hands scramble for something - anything - solid.
Ah, falling down really does feel good, especially when the ground is so warm, and soft. Smelling faintly of vanilla, with a hint of sunshine. 
And then it’s all black. 
To match his eyes.
---
The smell of vanilla still lingers in your mind as you slowly pry your eyes open, squinting against the harsh morning sunlight streaming in through your window. Groaning, you feel as though you’ve been run over by a truck. Five of them, in fact. 
Trying to will away the pounding headache, you bury yourself deeper into the snug covers of…your bed…that you’ve been tucked into? 
Oh shit. Sitting up with a gasp, you hastily try to rub away the sleep from your pointedly makeup-less eyes, remnants of last night now flooding back to you with a surge of embarrassment. 
Choso. Shirtless. Babysitting. Shirtless. But most importantly - your awful display of drunken flirting. The man appears once in a blue moon and you hit on him? Perfect. Great. Wonderful. 
And just as you’re entertaining the idea of convincing your parents to move neighborhoods, you realize with a jolt that he must’ve been the one that carried you up here and took care of you. Even after all of that. 
With a sigh, you rub your temples, wincing as it throbs at the laughter carrying from downstairs - one of them so decidedly Choso. Deep voice ringing in your ears, you can almost feel the lingering traces of his strong arms holding you flush against his chest, or the warm hands gently wiping off your eye shadow.
And it seems Choso had a penchant for interrupting your barely-lucid thoughts, because the door creaks open, ripping through the heavy silence in your room. Heart in your throat, you startle as Choso carefully steps into your room, a soft smile playing on his lips.
“G’morning,” he says, voice so gentle that some small, strange part of you thinks you could listen to it forever. “Feeling any better?”
You offer him a sheepish grin, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks at the memory of your drunken antics. “Yeah, I think so. Thanks for... well, everything.”
Chuckling softly, his gaze softens as he steps closer, taking in your slightly-disheveled appearance. “It was the least I could do, sweetheart. Now, c’mon, your brother and I are making pancakes.” 
You fidget nervously under his gaze, suddenly feeling self-conscious even as he turns to leave the room at your silence. Say it, you idiot. Say it. 
“I’m sorry,” you blurt out, words tumbling out in a rush. “I didn’t mean to... y’know, act like a Victorian man seeing a woman’s ankles for the first time-” 
“It’s al-”
 “I swear I’ve seen ankles-”
A large hand cradling your cheek, his thick rings searingly cold against your chin as he tilts your chin up to meet his warm gaze - and those suspiciously red cheeks. “S’alright, sweetheart. I didn’t mind.” 
And, well, if this was his way of shutting you up then by God was it effective. Because you didn’t trust yourself to speak even as Choso gives you an easy smile. Even as he withdraws his hand, the air thick with something you were too hungover to overthink about. 
Not until he turns back to the door, flashing you a teasing smile, “Besides, it was kinda cute.”
And with that, Choso steps through the door with the audacity of someone that hadn’t uttered words that sent your mind reeling. 
As the creak of the door echoes behind him, Choso’s warm touch still sears into your skin. Something hot and prickly pooling in your stomach. Only one thought rings clear in your hazy, still-hungover mind - one that makes your cheeks flare: this was going to be a very interesting summer.
You just didn’t realize how interesting it would be. Not until two weeks, four days, and sixteen hours after you first met Choso. 
It starts out innocently enough, taking the early shift at your internship, volunteering to help with the chores - you find yourself subconsciously making excuses to be around him whenever he’s scheduled to babysit.
You’ve probably learned everything there is to know about the man by now - from the way he likes his eggs (sunny side up) to that time he accidentally dyed his brother’s hair neon pink while trying out a recipe for homemade hair dye. 
Likewise, Choso happens to be the only one who knows that you were the one that accidentally caused that flood in your dorm that required five floors and two plumbers to resolve. 
At this point, Choso’s at your house more often than not - where Choso is, there is you, and where you are, there is Choso. And your brother…and sometimes Yuji, but semantics.
“Semantics” are probably why you find yourself rushing home straight from your internship, ignoring every invitation for an after-work drink - to see your brother, of course. No other reason - definitely not because of the way Choso will inevitably be there too. Or because of the way his smile makes something strange coil in your stomach. Or-
Okay, maybe you speedwalked up your driveway faster than usual a little bit because of Choso. But as you’ve said - semantics.
Yet, sometimes you even think there’s a familiar flicker of something more in those dark eyes.
Nahhh. 
Stepping into the yard, the air thick with the scent of freshly cut grass and the deafening sounds of splashing, a smile tugs at your lips at the awfully wholesome view that greets you.
Your brother and Yuji are locked in a fierce battle, water guns being brandished like the most seasoned warriors.
And Choso - towering over everyone else - was at the epicenter of the chaos, his laughter booming over the commotion. Shirtless. Again. 
His bare, tattooed torso gleams in the light, muscles flexing with each movement as if sculpted by the gods themselves. Droplets of water glistening on his dark hair like diamonds in the fading light.
Traitorously, your cheeks burn as you step closer, desperately trying to rip your gaze from the milky abs peeking out and the tantalizing glint of metal winking so sinfully at you under the sun.
So he does have nipple piercings.
God, you have to get your mind out of the gutter.
As you approach, Choso’s grin widens, a playful sparkle dancing in his eyes. Without hesitation, he scoops up a large water balloon and takes aim, launching it with frightening accuracy in your direction.
The icy water hits you before the realization, and you squeal in surprise as the balloon connects right with your chest, seeping into your shirt. Glancing down with a startled laugh, you realize a moment too late that your once-pristine white shirt is now completely see-through. 
Heat rushes to your cheeks, but the damage has been done. Smug bastard, you think, glancing up at Choso, slightly red-faced yet wearing a sly grin as he surveys the aftermath of his well-aimed shot.
“Shoulda just told me if you wanted a peak, you lecher. This shirt was expensive, y’know.” you call out, mock-glaring at the man that stood so infuriatingly beautifully in front of you.
Choso throws his head back in a laugh that makes something tingle all the way down from your toes to your burning cheeks. “Maybe you shoulda just kept your guard up, sweetheart,” 
You scoff, “Maybe you should stop being a distraction then.”
His grin widens, reaching for another nearby water balloon, “S’not my fault you’re so easily distracted. No need to be a sore loser.”
“Oh, it’s on now.”
“Well, well, looks like we have a new contender in the water war,” Choso remarks mischievously to the kids, gesturing towards you. Yeah, really smug bastard.
Ah, what the hell. This shirt was on sale anyway.
---
Now, Choso knows you’re hot - always has.
Ever since that first day he moved in next door, when he stumbled upon you sunbathing in your backyard wearing that sinful bikini. And, well, after hours of moving boxes upon boxes of Yuji’s dumbbells, the mere sight of you was like the gates of heaven spread wide open for him. 
But, especially now - all drenched and disheveled. Your shirt sticking to your curves like a second skin in all the ways that should be illegal - and also makes some strange part of him slightly jealous. Beaming smile directed right at him - shit, this might as well just be the final nail on his coffin. Death by you.
Amidst the chaos and confusion, you're a force to be reckoned with. Choso can barely tear his eyes off of you, breathless and victorious in pure adrenaline-fueled bravado, declaring “Beg for mercy and I’ll let you off easy, Choso.”
“Kinky, but absolutely not, sweetheart.”
Clutching a particularly large water balloon, raising your hand high high high - hurtling it straight at him with an unapologetic smirk, “Then, better run for your life.”
Oh? Maybe Choso was a masochi- what was that- 
A flash of his favorite lacy pink, your poor buttons faltering at the sheer force of your throw. Choso doesn’t even feel the cold splash! square on his chest as he’s drenched icily from head to toe. Too transfixed.
Too focused on trying not to make it obvious he’s mentally calculating the chances of your shirt coming off altogether…
Eyes locked on the sliver of soft skin peeking out at him. Only registering you and the traitorous rush of heat flooding his cheeks - and his cock - as he averts his gaze, internally smacking himself for letting his thoughts wander into such dangerous territory. 
Both thanking and cursing the gods above, Choso realizes with a pang that he’s not just screwed, he’s absolutely twisted, tangled, and tied up in knots.
So utterly screwed, in fact, that he probably needs to make a quick run to the bathroom now.
Like, right now.
Shit. 
With a muttered excuse of a bathroom break, each step more urgent than the last, Choso can’t help but wonder if the water balloon incident was some sort of cosmic punishment for his wandering thoughts. Some divine intervention from his ancestors for being such a pussy around you all these years.
And as he slams that bathroom door closed, bunches his pants bunched underneath his heavy balls, and takes his throbbing cock in his hands, Choso thinks he might just see the gates of heaven - well, at least he’ll be able to give his ancestors a piece of his mind there.
With a groan, he leans against the closed door, eyes scrunching shut as he takes his swollen cock in his fist. Leaking hot precum and glistening in the dim bathroom light. He grips the base tightly, pulsing and achingly hard for you. 
Cold rings searing against his skin, Choso wastes no time - wanting to get this over with and join you again more than anything - starting up a hasty, desperate pace up and down his length that makes his knees buckle. Tighter on the base, just teasing his furiously flushed tip. Pink. Pink to match your bra.
With you so sinfully soaked through, wearing that goddamn lacy bra out there, Choso wasn’t as strong a man to possibly get you out of his mind. He can’t help but imagine your sultry smile, how it would look wrapped around his cock. 
Arm straining now, a shiver runs down his spine - all the way to his throbbing erection. “Shit.” he breathes, “J-jus’ like that, sweetheart.” 
Head only filled with you, and your lips and you-
He milks his base tighter - would you take him all in one go? Look up at him with those beautiful, teary eyes as you choke around his cock? 
One hand pulls in urgent, jerky little moves that have his hips bucking into his fist. The other reaches up muffle the fucked out moans leaving his swollen lips. God, it would take everything it had in him to not fuck up into your pretty lil’ mouth. Watch you cock-drunk and taking him so well. 
Or maybe…
Eyes rolling to the back of his head, Choso fights back a groan as he reaches a hand up to teasingly thumb under his slit. Delicate beads of precum dripping onto the cold tile with a deafening drip! drip! drip! Smearing at the way he rubs maddening little circles under that one spot, grazing his sensitive veins. 
Maybe you’d be a a fucking tease - run your tongue under his pulsing head so agonizingly slow. Knowing you, you’d probably pull away as soon as he bucks his hips into your mouth. Lips swollen and glossed prettily with his precum as you whisper, “Now now, baby. If you don’t act like a good boy then you won’t get to cum~”
“Sh-shit, hah-” Choso thinks he’s going insane, he can practically hear your hums as you kiss along his length, tongue darting out to trace his throbbing veins so obscenely. Flicking at his sensitive head. Eyes sparkling - ready to positively devour him. 
All for him. 
It’s too much. 
“Ah- Ngh, fuck.” he moans hoarsely, letting out a low, fucked-out little call of your name. “More. Need m-more, sweetheart.” 
Body shuddering violently, sweat dripping from his brow, Choso’s thighs quiver as he fucks his fist at an almost-animalistic pace. Chasing his release with reckless abandon. 
Choso’s heart pounds wildly in his chest as he tries - and fails - to maintain control. Raspy whines of your name escape through the crevices of his fingers, cracking ever-so-slightly in a way he knows he’d be embarrassed about if he was in a better state of mind. 
Giving up his futile attempt, long fingers snake down below to cradle his balls in a way he knows you’d do better. Tugging and pulling at a jerky rhythm that matches his hand. 
Some tiny, practical part of his brain hopes - prays - that you won’t call off the water fight early and come up to check on him. He knows he should hurry up, he knows he’s fucked if you ever found out. Shit, he should bake you apology cookies tomorrow.
But fuck are so you perfect for him. Voice so pretty and eyes so warm as you turn your gaze to his undeserving self. He’d kill to see if you still look at him that way when - if - he absolutely ruins you.
Would you be able to take all of him? Would you pout adorably until he shoves his dick down your throat? Gagging as he hits the back of your throat over and over - oh how Choso would love to mess up your mascara. He’d fucking tattoo your lipstick stains on his dick if he could. 
“Cum f’me, baby.” you’d mewl, and shit would he burn down this entire world to hear you call him that. “Mm, fill me up with your cum, wan’ taste you, baby-”
“Fuck,” he curses again, voice thick with need, and tight balls twitching so sensitively. “Fuck...fuck fuck fuck. M’gonna cum- shit- gonna cum, sweetheart.”
You - all see-through white shirts and lacy bras that drive him wild. Giggling with the audacity of someone who isn’t making him slowly lose his sanity. You with prettily lips painted white with his seed. Cum and saliva mixing into a lewd pool on the sterile tile as you suck the soul out of him. 
You. 
And then he’s cumming. 
A raw, drawled-out keen of your name and he’s spilling into his fist. Thick, hot spurts of cum that paint his palms white in a way he wishes he could do to you. And behind his closed eyes all he sees is you - you you you-
You, dragging out his orgasm so torturously, lips decorated with his seed, dribbling down to your lacy pink bra, gushing so lewdly down your ready throat. You with your eyes dazed, lips swollen and quirking up into a fucked-out smile as he does so well for you - cumming, all for you.
You, with your wide eyes and disgust on your face as you realize just what he’d been doing on this suspiciously long “bathroom break”.
Shit.
Body still twitching with the shockwaves of probably one of the Top 5 orgasms of his life, Choso all but collapses against the bathroom door, panting heavily, utterly spent. For a moment, he lies there, wondering if this is what heaven truly felt like.
But as the euphoria of his high ebbs away into nothing but mere tingles, a slight wave of nausea crashes over him. 
Sighing, Choso reaches for the paper towels, ready to clean up his mess. If only you were there to milk him dry then he wouldn’t have to-
God, he was definitely baking you apology cookies tomorrow. 
Now, when it started drizzling shortly after Choso left, you took it upon yourself to usher the kids back home and hand over his t-shirt personally like the good samaritan you are - out of the goodness of your heart, of course. 
Not for any reason whatsoever because you were hoping to get at least one more glimpse of those sinful nipple piercings up-close.
Okay, perhaps there was a slight ulterior motive involved. 
Either way, what you’d expected was for a flash of silver as you handed over his drenched t-shirt. Or maybe that familiar easy smile to warm you up from the icy water.
Literally anything but to find yourself frozen outside the bathroom door, cunt dripping, and ears ringing with the muffled echoes of his pornographic groans.
At first, completely mortified, your fight or flight instinct had kicked in as you realized just what those rhythmic, fucked-out little grunts meant. Only for you to choose neither option - staying rooted to your spot with the utterance of one, simple, word - your name.
Confusion whirls in your mind almost as much as the throbbing in your cunt, knees weakening. Heart thumping louder and louder in your ears at each whine of your name. Shivers running down your spine - all the way to your wet cunt as it really sets in that this was Choso. And he was fucking his fist in your bathroom. To you.
And you didn’t mind?
In fact, you find yourself leaning against the door, thighs squeezing together - mere inches away from where you imagined him slumped against it. Soft strands sticking to his forehead, cock hot and heavy, aching for release. Ragged breathing as if caught off guard by the intensity of his own pleasure. Broken whispers of your name leaving him over and over-
Really, you know you should give him your privacy. But if the white-hot ropes of pleasure running up your spine are anything to go by then, well, is it really that bad?
You have half the mind to just reach down down down - just a little release. Almost jealous of Choso-
Click!
You’re sure you could rival Usain Bolt with the way you ran down those stairs. Cheeks flaring, his damp t-shirt still clutched tightly in your hand. Mind racing with only one thought - this little fuck wanted you just as badly as you wanted him.
---
You can barely remember what transpired after your little discovery. You couldn’t decide who looked more dazed - you or Yuji, who was being practically dragged out that front door as Choso exited hastily with vague mentions of baking and cookies
And in the ringing silence that followed after that front door slammed, you couldn’t help the smirk that found itself onto your face. This was going to be fun.
But if there’s anything you’ve learned about Choso - it’s that even after twenty-something years on planet Earth, that man can not take a hint.
You somewhat had an inkling after the fifth time you decided to sunbathe in just a skimpy bikini at exactly when you knew he’d be watching. Well, you might not have gotten any reaction other than an extremely flushed face at the window, but at least you knew he’d have more very fun bathroom breaks.
Hell, one time you even bought ice lollies for the whole house - but especially Choso. Making sure those dark eyes followed every lick and trail of it dripping down your fingers under the scorching summer sun. Ultimately resulting in nothing more but a heavy gulp and for his ice lolly to hit the grass faster than it could even begin to melt. 
Ugh, should you get your brother to start another water fight? That went down well last time. 
It’s only after another failed attempt at trying to get him alone and a few hours of deliberating whether you should ship your interrupting brother off on a cruise too that you realize you have to get out the big guns.
“The big guns” being stealthily organizing a sleepover for your brother at the Itadoris, then inviting Choso over for a movie night. Simple, right? And, well, if anyone asked, you could just say the movie just so happened to be rated R. 
It wasn’t too hard to convince your brother that a sleepover with Yuji would be the best thing since sliced bread. The excitement in his voice palpable as he agreed, not suspecting a thing.
You just didn’t think it would be even easier to convince Choso to come over with a simple playful text of “Netflix no chill. Haha jk…unless?” But then again, when has Choso not surprised you?
And that night, as your brother eagerly headed off to Yuji’s place, you couldn’t help but feel a slight pang of guilt - but, hey, it was for a good cause, right? 
It’s a win-win either way - your brother gets to spend the night with a friend and you get to be here, so achingly close to Choso on that couch. So close that you could feel the heat radiating off of him, stealing glances at his sharp profile as the conversation flows easily about the movie playing on screen.
Shifting ever-so-slightly closer, electricity crackling between you two was palpable. You smile in anticipation, after all - you weren’t lying about the movie being rated R.
Now, Choso certainly didn’t come over to your house tonight expecting a wholesome rerun of Cars 2. However, he also wasn’t expecting the blockbuster action movie to suddenly unfold into something so steamy.
Goddamn lecherous directors and their goddamn pervy movies.
Eyes firmly trained on the ground, instead of the actress currently fake-moaning dramatically onscreen, Choso tries to ignore the subtle shift of your hips or the way the temperature in the room has currently increased by about 10 degrees. Or the way your moans would sound a million times prettier in his ears.
Alas, Choso was not a strong man, and he especially tries to will away the blood rushing straight to his cock right now - but how could he? You were such a vision of temptation, so close and warm and close to him on the couch.
This was absolute torture. 
“God, this is so painfully fake. Don’t you think so?” your voice rips through the deafening silence between you two, tone careful and balanced, startling Choso out of his little reverie.
His eyes flicker hastily to meet yours, and for a moment, he seems caught off guard by your sudden interruption. “Oh, yeah.” voice rough with a hint of nervousness. “I’ve seen better performances in middle school plays.”
You nod, the tension between you thickening as you lock eyes. “I mean, who even writes this stuff?” you continue, leaning in even closer to Choso, words positively dripping in sarcasm. “It’s like they’ve never actually had sex before.”
Choso lets out a shaky laugh, the sound strained as he shifts subtly in his seat - but not subtly enough. Because you catch the way he desperately tries to adjust his now-uncomfortably tight pants. Success. 
“Yeah, exactly,” he clears his throat, ripping his gaze away from yours.
You study him for a moment under the dim lighting, noting the way his hands clench and unclench in his lap, the rapid rise and fall of his chest as he struggles to control his breathing. He was nervous. Nervous and horny - exactly where you wanted him. 
A sudden rush of adrenaline courses through your veins, and you lean even closer to the man. Not even a hair’s breadth between you two - you relish in his strangled gasp as your tits press so enticingly against his arm. 
“Choso, just a thought.” you hum casually, lips mere inches from his ear. “Wanna recreate the scene better?”
His breath hitches at your words, muscles rippling so deliciously beneath your touch. “Do you know what you’re saying?” he rumbles, lowly. Eyes darkened and unreadable.
You smile, heart pounding against your chest as your lips brush against his earlobe. “Absolutely.”
It was like something snapped.
Because then he’s kissing you. And you’re kissing him. Because goddammit you haven’t spent the last month sneaking glances at those pretty lips for nothing.
Movie completely forgotten, Choso is warm under your touch - all sculpted chest and urgent pulses as his lips kiss you dizzyingly. Groaning lowly as your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him impossibly closer.
He breathes you in with an infectious desperation that bleeds into his hands, wandering every inch of your skin - as if he didn’t have enough time. And he probably didn’t. Distantly, Choso thinks that no time in the world would be enough to absolutely fucking wreck you the way he wanted to.
Large, hurried hands grope your chest, squeezing so teasingly in a way that almost made you think he was trying to feel out what bra you were wearing - lacy pink. His favorite, of course.
You minx.
Urgently tugging the hem of your tight shirt over your arms, Choso tosses it god-knows-where. Mouth watering as he pulls away to greedily take in the heavenly view of your heaving chest - the same one he’s shamelessly fucked his fist to for too long.
God, you were perfect. With a soft, little oh! Choso leans down to leave hot, open-mouthed kisses on every bit of exposed skin he could reach. Nipping, and tugging lightly. Relishing in the way you whine for his lips again.
Threading a hand through his soft hair, you lightly pull him back to you. Breath fanning his face, lips ghosting over his own.
“Kiss me, you fool.”
And, well, Choso didn’t have to be asked twice. Molding his mouth against yours once more. Letting your lips part, you intertwine your tongue so sinfully with his. He tastes just like he looks - so intoxicatingly delicious.
With a breathy sigh, he lightly taps the curve of your ass. Hands lingering for far longer than necessary, kneading the flesh in a way that has your skin searing. 
You get the signal. Urgently, you loop your legs around his waist. “Choso- bed.” you whisper, muffled in-between kisses. “Now.”
Shivers run down your spine at the way he chuckles darkly, “Honestly, sweetheart. I don’t even hah- know if we’ll make it there.” Mumbling against your lips, “Would you kill me if I take you right here right now?”
“I’ll kill you if you don’t fucking do something.” you hiss, words dripping in desperation. Ah, but Choso, ever the merciful man, shuts up whatever other retort on the tip of your tongue with his own. Kissing you with almost-bruising intensity as he gets up from his seat. Strong arms securely wrapped underneath you, holding you flush against his warm skin.
Choso doesn’t pull away even once as he hastily makes the route to your room. And honestly, with the speed at which your back hits the soft mattress, bouncing at the sheer force at which you two fell on top, you wouldn’t even be surprised if he teleported there.
Now safely in the confines of your room, you all but rip off Choso’s snug t-shirt. Those familiar obscene nipple piercings winking at you under the dim lighting in greeting. 
“Always wanted to do this.” you murmur, surging forward as if on autopilot. Lips latching delicately onto the pretty pink nipples, tasting the cold metal on your tongue. 
“Oh- oh, fuck. A-always knew you had a thing hah- f’my piercings, sweetheart.” Choso breathes out, letting you have your fun. His favorite bra now at the foot of your bed. Fingers deftly sneaking under your skirt, blood rushes straight to his cock as he feels the positively soaked state of your panties - if you could even call them that. 
Sanity snapping, he immediately flings off your skirt. Throwing it somewhere across the room with no care or concern for where it ends up. All so he could look down at oh-
Oh god, if you had to describe Choso’s face as he takes in the sight before him - it would be absolutely losing his sanity. Your pussy dripping and clenching around nothing - all for him.
Strings of slick trail down your thighs as Choso hooks one, long finger under your slutty g-string, tugging impatiently.
You keen as the cold air hits your dripping cunt. Yet Choso’s eyes stay locked hungrily on the sticky fabric intertwined around his fingers “Guess you were expecting this, huh?” he murmurs, voice thick with desire. 
Scoffing, you buck your hips up for something - anything. “I’ve been wanting to fuck you since that first night I hit on you, y’know,” you admit, the heady air of your room melting away any reservations you had previously. 
And that seems to snap Choso out of his trance - eyes flickering over to you, darkened with something so carnal that it makes your cunt throb. “Oh yeah?” he mumbles, swiftly stuffing the g-string in his pocket before leaning down, hot breath hitting your ear. “Now, what was that pick-up line you were gonna say that night?” 
You gasp in embarrassment, heat flooding to your cheeks at the memory. “Wha- that doesn’t matter. I was drunk and-”
Smack!
The delicious sting on your ass hits you before the realization that Choso smacked you. He smacked you. Even later do you realize that you like it - slick beading so obscenely at your sloppy hole.
“What was it, sweetheart?”
You shudder at the tone that leaves no room for argument. The words tumbling out of you as Choso caresses soothingly over the handprint on your ass. “I- it’s stupid. I was gonna say that I’m down to sit on your face, baby.”
“Thought so,” he grins, pulling away from the dizzying proximity. Shifting - well, more like manhandling - you to flip positions. 
God, you could almost sink into his muscles as he lays back on your bed. Voice low and dangerous as he utters words that go straight to your dripping pussy, “Now, sit on m’face.”
And before you know it, you find yourself hastily straddling Choso’s pretty face. Hands snaking down his milky abs, lips kissing along his tattoos, catching purposefully on his sensitive nipples. 
Warm breath fanning your quivering cunt, he reaches up to cup your ass, nudging your needy core to his mouth. Kneading. Groping. 
Not stopping his ministrations even when your slick oozes slowly, torturously through your swollen folds and onto his awaiting tongue. A maddening drip! drip! drip! ringing in your ears above your thundering heartbeat.
Choso groans at the mouthwatering sight above him. You - spread so shamefully open for him and clenching around nothing. 
“Luckily for you, sweetheart, wanted you to sit on m’face ever since I saw you.” sweet juices flowing down his throat, words muffled against your throbbing lips. 
He barely even gets the words out before he’s surging forward. Licking a long, languid stripe up your heated folds. Again. And again. Faster at the pretty moans that spill from your lips.
Pushing his tongue in between your slit, past that first, tight ring of muscle. Bullying it deeper and deeper. Chin pressing against your throbbing clit, ravaged at each movement of his face. 
He caresses your warm walls, relishing so filthily at the way you clamp down on him in surprise. “Hngh- oh shit, baby. Ah-”
Your sweet moans are music in his ears and shit - you called him “baby”. It’s as if every wet dream he’s ever had has come to life as Choso dips in and out at a ruthless pace. Pulling out to tease your dripping entrance, pushing past mercilessly into your plushy walls. In and out in and out in and out-
His cock strains so painfully against his pants at the way your sloppy hole sucks his tongue in so obscenely - almost as if it hurts to part. Tongue fucking you the way he wishes he could with his cock right now.
“Oh- Hah- Choso! Fuck, baby. S’good.” your body arches into his absolutely depraved tongue. 
Desperate whines spilling incessantly from your mouth at the way he quirks his tongue up just right to graze that spot he knew would have you grinding down on him for more. “Ah! Right there - jus’ like that!”
As if he knew exactly how to drive you wild. Exactly how to break you. You almost don’t notice the mindless, shallow little thrusts of his hips into your open palm. Almost.
Eyes snapping open at the tremors, you reach a hand across his quivering thighs. All the way down towards the very obvious dark patch on his pants - right where his furiously hard tip was leaking thick, relentless precum that made your mouth water. 
Oh, how you’d kill to taste him - see if the rest of him is as intoxicating as his mouth is.
So you do. 
Choso was so pussy-drunk in-between your thighs that you think he barely notices the way you fumble with his belt. Shakily pulling those pants down just enough to glimpse the rock-hard erection that those boxers do nothing to hide. 
“Shit,” you whisper, voice strained with need. 
You always imagined Choso had a big cock - but this was ridiculous. Your pussy clenches in both nervousness and anticipation as you imagined the delicious stretch of him splitting you apart on it. Breaking you. 
And that’s probably when Choso notices - you clamping down so filthily on his tongue. 
“Oh?” he rasps, voice sending white-hot vibrations of pleasure right up your spine. “Didn’t think you were so desperate for my cock, sweetheart. Gon’ make me cum, hm?”
Now, you’ve always thought of yourself as a woman of action rather than empty words. Which is probably why you urgently pull down his boxers. Choso’s painfully hard erection springs out, hitting his lower abs. 
You take a moment to admire the long, heavy cock in your hands - a deliciously pretty pink on top, furiously leaking glistening precum. Saliva pooling in your mouth - you shove it as far down your throat as you possibly could. 
Oh, how many times in his life has Choso imagined this moment right here. In the shower, right before bed, right after waking up too. You’re really a dream come to life. 
A startled, strangled moan of your name leaves Choso’s kiss-bitten lips as you take him all in one go. Only to pull back and spit once- twice on his throbbing cock. The steady stream of spit cool - followed so maddeningly by the warm heat of your mouth once more. You start up a torturous, filthy pace bobbing your head up and down on his cock.
He strains his head to catch a glimpse - even just one - of your nose pressed against his pelvis. Breathing in the heady scent at the tufts of hair at the bottom, already wet with precum and spit. His dirty girl. 
Popping off with a lewd squelch, “Feels good, baby?”
“Feels perfect.”
But he wasn’t gonna fall far behind.
Immediately attaching his lips with yours once more, Choso dives nose-deep in your dripping cunt. Rolling your throbbing clit in between his lips. Flicking his tongue along the sensitive bud in a way that makes your head feel so light. He alternates between a slow, languid torture on your clit and fucking into you unforgivingly.
Your movements stutter as you teasingly lick at his sensitive slit. The salty flavor of his precum is probably your favorite taste now. That bastard.
Reaching down, you cup his heavy balls, massaging the tender flesh in harsh, hasty circles that match your mouth down his length - up and down up and down up and-
Muffled moans and lewd squelching filling the heated room. A rhythmic, sinful cadence that both of you were losing your sanity to. Movements more frantic now. Desperate to make the other cum. Desperate to be first.
Letting out soft, raw grunts, Choso fucks up his throbbing erection into your mouth. Your eyes water as his tip abuses the back of your throat. And it makes you wish you could see how messy he looked right now. All smudged eyeliner and slick-glossed lips. 
Gagging around him, a mixture of drool and precum drips sinfully down the corner of your mouth as you increase your pace, pooling messily on his lower abs. Sloppy - so sloppy.
So it only made sense that your orgasms were the same. 
Pleasure dizzyingly overwhelming, you gush around Choso’s mouth with a stifled squeal. Stars behind your eyes, vision blurring, mind blanking - the only things you register being the languid tongue lapping up at your sweet juices and the guttural groan of what sounds like your name as Choso shoots thick, hot spurts of his cum down your throat. 
Throat burning as the salty taste fills your senses, you milk his cock for more more more- his dick pulsing and stuttering in your mouth. Cum staining the fresh sheets below - a problem for later. 
Right now all you were focused on was riding out your high, grinding almost animalistically on Choso’s pretty face. 
You’ve barely removed yourself from him with a lewd pop! before Choso’s wrestling you back onto the mattress. Two fingers squishing your cheeks into an embarrassing pout, cold rings digging into your skin. The other hand snaking in between your thighs to play with your still-twitching cunt. 
“Didn’t say we were done yet, sweetheart.” he mutters. You weren’t done - no, far from it. Because fuck a refractory period - both of you were going to take all you could get.
And before you can think of anything else, Choso is leaning down, hand prying your lips apart for him into a brutal kiss. Teeth clashing, lips bruising. He forces his tongue down your throat. Tasting himself before you barely get a chance to taste him as well. 
“Hah- fuck-” you flinch as he swears into your bruised lips. “So fuckin’ sweet. You taste so good sweetheart.” The sheer debauchery and ache of his cock too much for him. 
Tasting him. Tasting you. Both a heady flavor that leaves you yearning for more. 
You bite down on his bottom lip in retaliation, relishing in the drawn-out groan that rumbles into your mouth at this. The kiss is feral. It’s animalistic. It leaves you feeling so fucking dirty. 
And you barely recognise the dazed, predatory glint in Choso’s eyes as he pulls away, his mind clearly miles away as he spits once. Twice. Three times on your face.
The wads of saliva and cum hit your face with a warm, wet jolt. You whine at the way it seeps into your skin, dripping down your cheeks so fucking obscenely. Pooling at the sheets below in a way that makes you feel sorry for whoever had a shift at the laundromat tomorrow.
“Now, what do we say, sweetheart?”
A fucked-out, delirious smile tugs at the corner of your lips as you realize - yeah, you wouldn’t have it any other way. “Thank you.”
Not even when Choso lets out a dark chuckle, throwing your legs over his sculpted shoulders and manhandling you so that you’re splayed out so shamefully for him. Dripping cunt spread for his greedy gaze and clenching around nothing - aching for him. Begging for him.
Not even when he lines up his still-rock hard cock at your entrance, tip - angry and red - weeping so desperately as he nudges at your sloppy hole. Dragging his head along your folds collecting every bead of slick, just grazing your pulsing clit. Every muscle in your body trembling and anticipating what was to come.
You mewl at the stretch as he presses in - deliciously painful, boderling insane, and exactly what you wanted right now. Splitting you apart on his throbbing cock. 
And especially not when he bottoms out inside you in one, harsh thrust. Burying himself inside your sloppy walls till his twitching balls smack against your ass. 
“Ah- hngh- oh fuckkk.” you keen in both pain and pleasure - broken, raw moans leaving you uncontrollably. But not for long, because suddenly Choso’s shoving two ringed fingers in your mouth, bullying their way inside till you’re gagging and moaning around them. 
Pressing right at that spot on the back of your tongue that makes your eyes tear up so prettily. Hey, if he couldn’t see you choking on his cock properly, the least he could do is see you choking on his fingers, right?
“Now now, wouldn’t want anyone else to hear, hm? Our brother’s would get worried.” he chuckles. Pure, dark amusement in his eyes as he takes in your swollen lips, the teartracks down your cheeks, how utterly beautiful and debauched you look underneath him. So much better than any lust-hazed imagination of his.
And yet, even when you’re being gagged and split apart on his cock, you find it in yourself to be mouthy. Words muffled around his thick fingers as you raise a brow. “There’s no one else home, though?.”
The corners of Choso’s lips lift into a devilish grin, “The neighbors, sweetheart.”
His tone is teasing, but there’s an undercurrent of seriousness that sends a chill down your spine. He’s just joking, right? Right?
“Wha-”
And probably because he was losing his patience - and partly to shut you up - Choso begins to move.
Pushing past the resistance, beginning to fuck into you in shallow, uncontrollable movements of his hips. Just little motions to get him off, groaning at how sinfully tight you were - the way you were sucking him up so good.
Next time, Choso thinks, reaching down a hand to draw tight, little circles on your poor, abused clit - next time he’ll fuck you right. Hours upon hours of teasing you so you don’t know what it feels like when you’re empty without him. 
But fuck does he think he could just about pass out right now.
There’s no going back now. Choso fucks you in a way that makes you feel so deliciously filthy. Plunging into your heated cunt with no restraint. Thrusts positively savage.
Pulling all the way back so that his leaking tip just barely kisses your sloppy entrance, slamming down down down, Choso fucks you at a merciless pace. Relishing the delicious stretch of your cunt as he thrusts into you with a desperation that surpasses the need for reason. 
“Sh-shit, sweetheart. God, s’tight. better than I ever could’ve imagined.” he moans breathlessly, brows furrowing, eyes rolling to the back of his head, the feeling of you milking the absolute soul out of him just too much.
“Oh, yeah- wanted this for so long-”
You yelp every time he rams his cock into you, the smacking of his toned pelvis against your thighs stinging almost as deliciously as his tip kissing your cervix. The obscene slapping of skin on skin makes your cheeks burn - both pairs as his heavy balls smack against your ass each time he shoves his throbbing cock into you.
And because you can’t leave him alone, of course, you find your nails digging harshly into his muscled shoulders. 
Pulling him impossibly closer. You want more. You need more. 
Maybe you say those words out loud - you don’t even know anymore, too delirious and cock-drunk from Choso and your last orgasm and Choso - because his eyes widen ever-so-slightly, mouth falling open into a small oh. Your cunt twitches at the surprised, fucked-out little laugh that leaves him,  “More? My sweetheart wants more?”
And, as you’ve come to learn with Choso - anything you want, you will get. 
“Then fucking- take it.” he grunts lowly, each word punctuated by a harsh thrust of into your plush walls that sends both of you spiraling deeper and deeper into insanity.
And God does he make you take it. Every inch of him fills you, stretching you beyond your limits - both your cunt and your senses as he leans down to bury his head into your neck, hips moving so sloppily, hiking your leg further up his shoulder. The change in angle making you see stars.
Your hips buck up in tandem with his, uncontrollable little ah! ah! ah! leaving you at each thrust. You whimper in pleasure and overstimulation into the heady room, “Yes. Yes yes yes- wan’ cum. Need more. Need you-”
“Fuck- Hngh-” is all he manages to gasp out, pleasure overwhelming his sensitive cock. Choso’s balls twitch almost painfully as they keep smacking your ass. Brain still not keeping up with his body because shit, this is all he’s wanted for years, the least he could do is make you cum before him.
“Sh-shit, sweetheart.” he rasps into your heated skin, “So close- m’ so close.”
You all but sob at his words, “M’too- hngh- ah, m’gonna cum, baby.”
You didn’t expect the petname to be what breaks him, but then again you didn’t think there was anything more left to break. Because Choso groans gutturally, cock twitching inside you “Shit, you’re driving m’crazy, y’know that?”
“I know.” you mewl, voice breaking at the way he increases his frenzied pace on your clit. You could barely even call them circles, just filthy little movements to get you closer and closer to the edge. So close. You writhe beneath him, desperate for release.
And what you didn’t expect was for Choso to connect his sweaty forehead with yours. You take a second to admire just how beautiful he is - all smudged eyeliner, tousled hair, your release still shining on the lower half of his face, and yours. All yours. You could probably stare at the sight forever.
Choso’s hot breath fans your face as he moans breathlessly against your lips, words slurring together as he ruts into you mindlessly, “Always did, y’know?”
“I know.”
“No- y’don’t hah- understand, I- for so long fuck- I-”
“Choso, just kiss me.”
And then you’re kissing him. And he’s kissing you like you’re the most precious thing on Earth. A slow, tender little dance that doesn’t match the way he rams his cock inside you. 
And then you’re cumming. Stars behind your eyes - or maybe those were tears - clamping down desperately on the harsh, jerky movements of his glistening cock that fuck you so sinfully like his little slut. 
White-hot pleasure runs down your spine, or maybe that was Choso - painting your insides the prettiest white you’ve ever seen. Shooting thick, hot ropes of his seed into your waiting pussy. A creamy ring forming around his base as he spills his cum into your snug cunt as he moans against your lips.
It’s messy. It’s sloppy. And as Choso fills you to the brim, hips still unforgiving, seed dribbling out of your dripping pussy at the way it was so overfilled - you think that it’s all you could ever want. 
As his cock twitches finally, exhaustedly - and you distantly wonder how the fuck it isn’t seizing up - Choso collapses onto you, thoroughly fucked-out. Finally pulling out with an obscene squelch, you hiss lowly at the pool of cum that forms beneath you. Gushing out of you sinfully. 
A weighty silence in the air as you both try to catch your breaths.
In the haze of your orgasm you realize that even after all that transpired, he still isn’t laying his full bodyweight on you.
Too afraid to break you.
To break whatever this tender little understanding in the air was.
And it makes some part of your heart clench so delightfully. Subconsciously, you thread a hand through his damp hair, breathing in that familiar smell of vanilla and sunshine - and the heady scent of something so Choso. It makes you intertwine your body so impossibly close with his, not knowing where one of you ends and the other starts.
“My parents are coming home tomorrow.” you start, casually. 
“Mhm. But I’ll still be around here, sweetheart.” Choso rumbles into the crook of your neck. Kissing soothingly over the marks he’d made in the heat of the moment - some carnal little part of him proud of the way you looked like you were fucking thrown to a pack of wolves. 
Words hiding a tense little fear beneath them as you probe further. Something prickly and scared rolling around in your stomach. “For babysitting?”
“Nope.”
Settling deeper into the covers, basking in the afterglow of him. You know you should get up and clean, but right now this was all you wanted. And maybe no other words were needed. 
“God, am I glad your parents aren’t home.” 
Except maybe those. 
You chuckle as you pull back to stare into those deep, dark eyes. Cheeks flaring at the tender little warmth in them much more than they had when he was fucking you so sinfully. A devious idea coming to mind - because now that you got a taste, you were absolutely hooked.
Choso Kamo was absolutely intoxicating.
“Well, we still have time so how about-”
A distant click!
“Honey, we’re home~!”
Shit.
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A/N. Fun fact this was originally supposed to be called Timeout! but it was giving too much me during beep test.
Plagiarism not authorized.
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drudyslut · 1 month
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— summary: you meet up with your favorite biker guy to backpack him for a day, and things get very heated very fast.
— CW: 18+ only! meeting up with a stranger (don’t do that), putting out for a stranger (oops, i’d fold if it were biker!rafe too), biker guy!rafe, semi public sex (it’s at the top of a parking deck thing😭😂), fingering, hair pulling, male receiving oral, unprotected sex, ass and pussy slapping (like once), lots of dirty talk and praise.
— a/n: ah fuck. my obsession with biker men got the best of me here. my wet fucking dream. likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated <3
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❥ ride — r.c
I couldn’t believe this was actually happening. I had been following him on Instagram and TikTok for months, and he lived in my town! So when I finally found the courage to send him a DM on Instagram joking about backpacking him for a day, I never in a million years imagined that he would actually respond — and say yes!
I’m finishing up the final touches of my makeup in front of my full length mirror that sits in the corner of my room when I hear my phone go off, letting me know I have a text.
Standing from the floor, I make my way to my nightstand and grab my phone. I open it to see that he has texted me.
Rafe: Hey! I’m out front whenever you’re ready.
I smile at the text and type out a quick response. Pocketing my phone, I rush to slip on my high top converse and grab my hoodie, tossing it over my head and rushing out of my bedroom and front door.
Making my way down the steps I come to a stop at the bottom, my breath catching in my throat when I see him leaned against the side of his bike. He looks deliciously good today. He wears a pair of tight, black jeans and a fitted white T-shirt. He pairs the outfit with a pair of white Nikes with a black Nike check in the middle of either side.
He doesn’t have his helmet on, and the sight of his bright blue eyes sparkling under the sun has my thighs tightening. He never shows his face on his social media, only his eyes if he flips the visor of his helmet up, and he rarely does that. He has the most perfect full lips, a defined jawline and his hair sits messy on top of his head. This man is the epitome of perfection.
“Y/N, right?” He asks, his low voice pulling me from my trance.
I swallow the saliva that’s built up in my mouth from looking at him and nod my head quickly. “Yeah, that’s me! Rafe, right?” I ask. But I already know. The bike he came to pick me up on lets me know it is in fact him.
He smiles widely. “That’s me. You ready? Have you ever rode before? Even just on the back?”
My hands begin to slightly shake, all of a sudden clammy. I’m nervous. But who wouldn’t be? This gorgeous man, with a large following on social media is here to pick me up, and take me riding with him for the day. Any woman in my position would be nervous too. Well, not all women, but the women like me.
“No.” I answer honestly. I watch his lips quirk up into a smirk, and I internally fist pump that he didn’t change his mind. Happy that he didn’t say “never mind, it’s not worth the hassle of teaching you”
He takes a step toward me, reaching his right hand out for me to take. I place my hand in his and pray that he can’t feel how nervous I am. He leads me toward his bike, releasing my hand and grabbing the extra helmet he’d brought with him. He turns, and when his blue eyes land on mine again, I swear I feel my heart skip a beat.
“I’m just gonna slide this on you, that okay?”
I smile and nod. “Yeah that’s fine.”
He nods once and then moves to slip the sleek black helmet over my head. Once it’s on good, his fingers move down to the straps under my chin. When his fingers brush across the skin, a shiver runs through my body. Once he has it strapped in place, he steps back and lifts the visor so he can see my eyes. “Fits perfectly. You look cute in that.”
I laugh nervously. “Thank you.”
He gives me one last smile before turning and grabbing his own helmet, placing it on his head and strapping it in place. He turns to face me again, and my panties grow wet at the sight in front of me. I don’t know what it is, but him with his helmet on is so fucking sexy.
“‘M just gonna press this button on your helmet, it’ll allow you to hear me while we’re riding.”
I nod my head and stand still as he steps toward me again, pressing a small button on the helmet I didn’t know was there. He steps back and asks, “Can you hear me?”
I giggle. “Yeah, I can hear you. That’s so cool!”
I hear him chuckle and the sound makes butterflies erupt in my stomach. “Yeah, me and my friends bought these so we can communicate while we ride, if we get separated and can’t use our hand signals. Plus, it’s fun to fuck with them this way too.”
He turns back to his bike and grabs a pair of black and white riding gloves from a drawstring bag, shoving them on his hands before turning to me once more. He claps his hands together and begins explaining the basics of riding on the back.
“So, I’ll hop on and you’ll sit on this seat behind me, and place your feet on these pegs.” He pats the seat and points to the foot pegs. “While we’re riding, wrap your arms tightly around my waist, and if I lean in a certain direction, you lean with me. It makes it easier to navigate turns and what not.” He pauses again, thinking of what else he needs to go over. He finally speaks again. “Oh! And if you get scared or want me to slow down, just tap my thigh. It’ll let me know to slow down for you.”
I nod my head and let him know I understand. Satisfied with everything he’s told me, and knowing I’m comfortable he tosses his drawstring bag onto his back and climbs onto his bike, starting it up. The engine roars to life and he turns his head to face me, nodding it toward him to let me know I can get on. I swing my right leg over the back of the bike, setting my ass onto the seat and wrap my arms tightly around his waist like he’d said to do.
I hear him through the speaker in the helmet as his hand taps my thigh. “Ready?”
“Yes!”
-
An hour later, Rafe is pulling up to the top of a parking deck. The two of us had rode non stop for the last hour, and to say it was one of the most exhilarating and memorable experiences of my life would be an understatement.
He pulls the bike to a stop, shutting off the engine and putting out the kickstand before he climbs off. He keeps his hand on my thigh to keep me upright as he gets off the bike, and then he grabs at my left hand and helps me off next.
I pop the clip of the straps under my chin, letting them fall loose before I pull the helmet up and off my head. I run my fingers through my hair, trying to tame the knots that had formed during the ride. After a few seconds of — and actually failing — trying to tame the knots, I finally decide to just toss my hair into a high ponytail.
As I’m securing the ponytail holder in my hair, Rafe’s voice catches my attention. “So, was it everything you thought it’d be?”
I finish putting my hair up and turn to smile at him. “Absolutely. That was… So much fun.” I breathe out.
He smiles and takes two long strides toward me, making my breath catch in my throat and my thighs tighten. This man is so fucking sexy it hurts, and the fact that I’m alone with him, it has my heart pounding and my pussy throbbing. But we don’t know one another, nothing would ever happen between us. He was just being nice today, allowing me to ride with him. I bet he does this a lot. I’m nothing special.
Once he stands directly in front of me, I swear my knees almost give out. His intoxicating scent fills my nose, the warmth radiating off his body envelopes me. He reaches his right hand out, pushing a loose strand of hair behind my ear.
“I gotta say, you looked absolutely beautiful on my bike.”
My heart begins pounding rapidly in my chest, my hands shaking. I swear, this man is going to be my downfall. If he asked me to drop to my knees right here, right now, I don’t think I’d have the strength to tell him no.
I laugh nervously. “Thank you. You don’t look to bad yourself on there.”
A wide grin spreads across his lips, and the sight alone takes my fucking breath away. He cups my cheek with his right hand, brushing his thumb across my skin. “Can I kiss you?”
My eyes go wide. Did the Rafe Cameron just ask if he could kiss me? I have to be dreaming right now. My eyes find his, searching for any sign that he’s just fucking with me. But I never find it. His blue eyes are darkened over, and hold nothing but seriousness in them.
I feel my legs turn to jello, and the only thoughts running through my mind are his lips on mine. His cock buried inside my wet cunt, down my throat. My eyes flick down to his plump lips and back to his eyes. He takes my silence as an invitation, dipping his head down and pressing his lips with mine.
The kiss starts out softly at first, but then he quickly deepens it. His tongue glides across my slightly parted lips, a low groan emitting from his chest before he forces his tongue in my mouth. Our tongues brush against one another, fighting for dominance before he finally wins. My entire body is on fire, my thighs tightening and my arousal soaks my thong. Fuck, I need more of him.
When he finally breaks his lips from mine, we’re both breathing heavily, chests rising and falling as his lust filled eyes search mine. I decide to be bold, the worst he can do is shove me away, right? My right hand slides between our bodies, finding his hard cock and palming him through the rough fabric of his black jeans. He hisses in a breath. “You’re playing a dangerous game, baby. You sure you want this?”
A shiver runs up my spine at the low, raspy tone of his voice. Sexual tension is thick in the cool fall air, making it feel warmer than it is outside. My entire body screaming at me to let him have me, while my mind is screaming to run the other way. I don’t know him. I only follow him on social media. But he’s so fucking sexy. He’s so confident in himself, and I need to feel what it’s like to have him. Even if it’s just a one time thing, even if he is a stranger to me, my body fucking craves him like a drug I can’t get enough of.
My eyes find his and a mischievous smile forms on my lips. “I’m sure.”
I feel his cock twitch beneath the fabric of his jeans, and I smile knowing that it’s me who has this man all worked up. He slaps my hand away from his hard-on, his own hands quickly working the button and zipper of his jeans. He slides the black material down his legs, before shoving his boxers down as well, the material pooled at his feet. His strong hands grip my shoulders, shoving me down to my knees.
I wince when my knees hit the hard concrete beneath me. I shake away the feeling of the rough ground digging into my knees through my jeans, and focus on the hard, long and thick cock that stands erect in front of my face. I bite at my bottom lip before lightly grasping the thick base of him in my right hand. I stroke him softly, running my hands up and down, from the base to the swollen pink tip. Removing my hand, I gather saliva in my mouth and spit down into my palm before gripping him again.
I stroke him softly, toying with the head of his cock before running my hands back down the base. He growls in frustration, his hands falling to the back of my head and gripping at the high ponytail I’d put my hair into. He yanks my head up, forcing my eyes on his. “You like playing games? Suck my fucking cock, baby. Or else I promise, when it comes time to please you, I’ll play the games right fucking back, and you won’t like it when I win.”
I smirk up at him, letting out a small whimper at the tone in his voice and the feeling of his hands in my hair. He loosens his grip on my head, allowing me to drop my head back down. My tongue darts out of my mouth and I lick up the vein that’s on the underside of his cock. He moans when my tongue reaches his tip, now red and angry as precum leaks from it. I slide my tongue over the slit on the tip of his dick, gathering his precum onto my tongue. I close my eyes and hum in appreciation. “You taste so good, Rafe.”
He growls, his fingers wrapping around my ponytail once more and shoving my mouth onto his cock. He shoves himself all the way down my throat, pulling a small gag from me. I look up at him through my lashes, his head is thrown back, eyes squeezed shut. His adam’s apple bobs in his throat when he swallows. Slowly, he pulls my head back, strings of my saliva coating his dick.
“‘M gonna fuck this pretty mouth, then, I’m going to bend you over this fucking bike and take you from behind. Alright?”
I whimper in response and he lets out a dark laugh. I suck in one more breath before he shoves himself back in my throat. Tears fill my eyes as I breathe through my nose. His thrusts are harsh and sloppy, his tip repeatedly abusing the back of my throat. But I don’t fucking care. This man can fucking ruin me, and I’ll thank him when he’s done.
The sounds of my gags and his grunts fill the air as he continues to abuse my throat. His thrusts begin to grow sloppier, his dick swelling in my mouth. I feel him twitch inside my mouth and then he’s yanking my head back, spit attached to his dick and my mouth go flying at his roughness.
I suck in an appreciative breath of air, my hand over my chest as it heaves up and down. He wraps his fingers around my left arm, pulling me to my feet and turning me so my back is to him. “Jeans down, now.” He demands, and I quickly obey.
My jeans are pooled at my feet, the only thing left covering me from him is the black lace thong I chose to wear today. I gasp loudly when I feel his hand slap harshly against my ass, the sting it left behind delicious. He runs his fingers over my clothed pussy, and I can’t contain the moan that slips free. “You’re fucking soaked, baby. All f’me?”
I nod my head, tears falling past my lower lashes. “Yes. Fuck, yes. All for you, Rafe.”
His fingers slide my panties to the side, baring my soaked pussy to him. I hear him groan from behind me. “Such a pretty pussy, baby. I can’t wait to feel it squeezing my cock.”
He runs his fingers through my wet folds, gathering my arousal on them before he shoves to inside me without warning. I cry out, my back arching and allowing him better access. He slowly pushes two thick digits in and out of me, his thumb pressed firmly against my clit and rubbing lazy circles around it. “So fuckin’ tight, baby. Gotta stretch you out before I shove my cock inside you, think you can handle a third finger?”
I whimper, my head falling forward and dangling over the other side of the bike. “Yes.” I say breathlessly.
He lets out a low growl before adding a third finger into my sensitive pussy. “That’s it baby girl, take my fingers. You’re almost ready for my cock.”
Whimpers and whines fall from my lips, my hips roll against his hand, fucking myself onto his fingers. The squelching noise my pussy makes while his fingers fuck me have my mind going fuzzy and my toes curling within the confines of my high top converse.
I feel myself clench tightly around his fingers as that warm feeling builds inside me. My orgasm nearing. I clench around him again, my legs shaking uncontrollably as I come undone around his fingers.
He quickly pulls his fingers from inside me, the hand that was just fucking me slaps harshly at my now overly sensitive cunt, making me scream. “Fuck me, Rafe! I need you inside me, now! Please..? Please fuck me.”
He chuckles, and I turn my head to see him with the three fingers he just fucked me with shoved into his mouth. He sucks and licks them clean, pulling them out and giving me a mouth watering smirk. “Taste so fuckin’ good. Gonna have to take you home with me after this and devour that sweet cunt of yours.”
I sigh in frustration, wiggling my ass back and forth, silently begging him to fuck me. I hear him step toward me, and then I feel his swollen head running through my slick folds. His head teases at my entrance before he slowly pushes it inside me. “Fuck!” I shout, and he chuckles. He slowly pushes himself inside me, inch my inch until he’s buried inside me, his balls lightly brushing at my sensitive clit.
He groans. “Fuck, you’re so goddamn tight. Pussy feels s’good wrapped around my dick.”
I let out a soft whine when he slowly pulls himself from inside me, slamming himself back in seconds later. His hands find my hips, gripping them tightly as he begins to roughly fuck himself into me. My tits are smushed against the seat of his bike, my head dangling over the other side as my hands grip at the foot peg in front of me for balance.
Each push and pull of his cock has me seeing stars, my legs turning to jello once more. A feeling of pure euphoria washes over me, and I know my second orgasm is about to explode from me. “Goddamnit, Rafe! ‘M so close, so fuckin’ close!”
One harsh thrust has the band snapping and my pussy pulsing. My second release washes over me. I lift onto the tips of my toes, screaming his name out to the world as I come undone around his thick cock.
He doesn’t let up, he continues pounding into me ruthlessly. My body goes numb, my brain foggy and blood rushing to my ears. All I can hear are the sounds of his balls slapping against my pussy and the wet, squelching noise my pussy makes with each push and pull of his hips. He lies his front on top of my back, his lips ghosting over my ear as he whispers. “Hope you’re on birth control, ‘cause I’m coming in this sweet fucking cunt.”
I whine, my eyes rolling into the back of my head when I feel his cock swell inside me. He places a hot kiss on the sweat slick skin of my neck, his teeth sinking into the skin when his dick twitches inside me. He lets out a low groan, thrusting forward once more before he still inside me, letting the hot, white ropes of his cum spill inside me. Marking me with his seed.
He lies on top of me for a few seconds, breathing heavily before he slowly pulls himself from inside me. A shudder wracks my body at the feeling of his thick cock sliding out, leaving me feeling empty and suddenly cold.
He pulls something from his bag, bringing it between my legs and wiping me clean. I look at him from behind my shoulder, and give a small smile. Once he’s finished cleaning me up, I fix my panties and lean forward to pull my jeans back up my legs. It’s awkwardly silent, and that alone makes me uncomfortable. Does he regret what we just did? Does he wish he didn’t have to make the awkward ride back with me back to my place?
All the thoughts running through my mind vanish when I feel his lips on mine. “Stop that.” He says once he pulls away.
I frown. “Stop what?”
His hands cup my cheeks and he smiles down at me. “Thinking. I can see it written all over your face.” He pauses, kissing the top of my forehead, and the act alone has my stomach erupting with butterflies again. “I meant what I said, I’m taking you home and devouring that sweet cunt, you got a thirty minute ride to prepare yourself for a long night baby.” He says with a wink, and then he turns to get us ready for the ride back to his house.
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loveindefinitely · 5 months
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02 — 𝘞𝘏𝘈𝘛 𝘐'𝘔 𝘛𝘏𝘐𝘕𝘒𝘐𝘕𝘎 𝘈𝘉𝘖𝘜𝘛
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༊*·˚ LUST FOR LIFE — task force 141 x reader
featuring. simon 'ghost' riley + johnny 'soap' mactavish + kyle 'gaz' garrick + john 'bravo six' price
warnings. nsfw, fem!reader, fmmmm, legal age-gaps, inexperienced reader, angst, graphic violence, slight power imbalance, enemies to lovers, slow burn, betrayal
series masterlist. read on ao3. fanfic playlist.
// NSFW CONTENT UNDER THE CUT //
"You assaulted two Special Forces Operators, kid," Price says, a barely veiled grimace contorting his features. "That's not a good look."
You tug against where your hands are cuffed to the metal bars, your brows furrowing. "Kidnapping the girl -- whose dad you killed after taking her virginity -- isn't a good look either."
...Alright.
So, if you could go back in time, and never eavesdrop on the four men who have completely ruined your life, you would take up the offer in a heartbeat.
Between landing your fist to Gaz's jaw, and where you are now, your life has become a total shit show.
Like, complete, this might just be a fever dream level of crazy.
It started from the moment you saw blood trickling from your now late father's forehead, and in the glint of the moonlight, seeing Ghost holding the gun.
Then, you'd turned, without another thought, and landed a punch right to Gaz's jaw. The man who had taken your first kiss no more than two hours ago.
You can relive the moment even now, under the harsh neon lights of an interrogation room, as if you're experiencing everything for the first time once more.
༊*·˚
Gaz hisses, wincing as he brings a hand up to the aching pain radiating from the bone that'd taken the brunt of your punch.
"You guys -- what the fuck --" You stammer out, eyes wide and borderline manic as you gape at the man before you. "You guys just killed my dad!"
"Yeah, but," Gaz starts, before backtracking. You figure he has enough braincells to realise that 'rationality and reason' isn't going to work with you, not in this state, and especially not after you just witnessed the murder of your only living family member. "Ah. Well. He wasn't a good guy."
You really, truly, cannot believe the audacity of this man.
Your mouth opens.
Gaz grimaces.
Your mouth closes.
He takes a step closer, hands raised in a placating gesture.
"Take another step near me and I'll punch you again!" You threaten, with an aggressive point of your finger.
You're extremely aware that your punch had done next to nothing, and Gaz's reaction to it was more one of sympathy, but the threat lands nonetheless.
"Alright, alright, we're not gonna hurt you," he raises his hands further, eyes bouncing between your own. You're not sure what he sees -- maybe resentment, or horror, or fear.
Whatever it is, it makes his frown deepen.
He goes to say something else, when your bedroom door opens with a soft click. "Finishin' up, ya read--"
Soap pauses his whisper, ice-blue eyes meeting yours. His grimace isn't unlike the one Gaz is sporting, and it only worsens your mood. If looks could kill, he would be lying on the grass beside --
Oh god. Your dead dad.
"Steamin' Jesus," Soap mutters under his breath, looking up to the roof in some semblance of a last minute prayer.
There's a moment, then, for a decision to be made. It's as if your brain can only come up with two options, and one of them will lead to your untimely death.
So, really, it's not entirely your fault when you pick up the salt lamp sitting on your bedside table and throw it right into the arrogant Scot's face.
"Holy shit," Gaz's eyes are comically wide as Soap cries out, the heavy pink rock slamming into his nose. He stumbles back, and the sound of your lamp hitting cartilage even has you wincing, panicked state or not. "How the fuck have you survived this long with those kinda reflexes, Soap?"
Soap drops into a squat, cradling his nose in his hand as he tilts his head back, squeezing the ridge between two calloused fingers. His voice comes out nasally as he mumbles, "Mighta' broke 'gain."
Your entire body is trembling, adrenaline coursing through your veins as you creep to the window with soft, quiet steps.
Maybe, you think, in the back of your mind, I can make the jump into the garden.
It's not to be, however.
"You're smarter than that," Gaz directs an unamused glare your way, before grabbing you by the wrist and pulling you towards your door.
Digging your heels into the carpet, you attempt to wrestle out of his grip -- but a trained military expert and you are no match, not even with the energy overtaking your body.
"Let go of me!" You grit out, tugging and displaying your weight in the opposite way to his goal. He doesn't even turn around as he drags you out of your room, slamming your door shut behind you.
"What the fuck is goin' on," Ghost's growl comes from the stairs, heavy bootfalls following until he's standing, gaze drifting from you, to Gaz, to Soap, back to you again.
"Fuck, man," Soap whines, squeezing his eyes shut as he keeps his head tilted back, blood running down his lips and chin. You somehow find it in yourself to feel slightly bad. Not enough to apologise, and certainly not enough to stop fighting back.
They were going to kill you. Probably. Or, like, what's the skin trade like in your area? Oh god. Fuck. Shit.
"She saw," Gaz mutters to Ghost, and his eyes narrow, black face paint crinkling where it's been put on the upper half of his face, skin not covered by the balaclava.
There aren't any lights on, and it's the lights on downstairs that cast shadows and highlights over the men's' faces.
"Fuckin' christ," Ghost groans, before turning and walking back downstairs without another word.
You continue to struggle against Gaz's hold, but both of your wrists have been collected in his hand, and he's pulled you so your back is to his chest. If it were any other circumstance, you'd be blushing, most likely turned on from such an embrace.
Right now, however, you're questioning every possible decision you've ever made.
"Ye Dad treated ya like shit 'nyways," Soap says, too loud to be under his breath, but too quiet for it to be conversational. "Dinnae why yer freakin''."
"You're murderers!" You hiss back, lips pulled back into a snarl. Your muscles ache from the punch, the hefty throw, and now from struggling against Gaz. "And I don't exactly have any other family, do I?!"
Gaz makes a sound of agreement, before shaking his head and countering. "We're not murderers, not really."
You choke a laugh, but it's entirely too wet and sad for it to be threatening or cruel. "So you guys didn't just shoot my father?"
"Si pulled th' trigger," Soap pouts, almost like a child would over a lack of candy.
"Soap," Gaz exasperates, and although you can't see his face, you're sure it's dismayed and annoyed. "Seriously?"
"What?!" Soap counters, and when it comes out high-pitched, he squeezes his eyes shut and holds his nose tighter. "Jus' tha truth, dinnae why yer so shitty. Yer not tha one bleedin'."
Speechless.
You are fully, unbelievably, speechless.
What the actual fuck was wrong with these... men? And what was wrong with you for being more than ready to spread your legs for them not too long ago?
You needed therapy. And coffee.
And a time machine, preferably. If one was made available at this given moment.
"Get down here," the final man of the hour shouts up the stairs, and your blood runs cold. There's something about him that's not quite as threatening as Ghost, but somehow makes you even more fearful.
Gaz, with surprisingly careful and gentle movements, guides you down the stairs. The parallel of how Ghost's hand had been at your lower back as he invited you to the lounge room, mere hours ago, isn't lost on you.
His hand doesn't move from the tense grip it has on your wrists. You can't help but feel like it's a completely unnecessary gesture, considering the fact that any of them could take you down within seconds if they really needed to. Hell, they all had actual, military-grade weapons.
"Seriously, Gaz?" Price huffs, looking entirely like a disappointed dad in this moment as he stands, leaning against your kitchen counter, arms folded over his chest, ankles crossed over. "One job, mate."
"You lot weren't exactly quiet," he retorts, but he slowly releases your wrists.
At this point, you know it's a lost cause to try and escape this situation, so you just ball your hands into wrists at your sides. You can't imagine it's an overly threatening position, considering how your entire frame trembles, and your lips wobble.
Your father was dead.
And the men that had made you feel so comfortable, so cared for, are the culprits.
Stupid, stupid girl.
They are dangerous men who do dangerous things.
"Peas," Soap's voice is practically a beg as he stumbles into the kitchen, opening the freezer door with no preamble as he scours it for... peas.
They're in the far right of the bottom shelf.
You don't tell him that.
"Have some water," Price encourages, holding out a glass cup full of chilled water.
Your eyes narrow, standing your ground. "Not accepting drinks from murderers. Dad taught me that, y'know?"
Gaz chokes a laugh, before covering it up with a fist to his mouth and a clearing of his throat. It fools no one, and you allow yourself the tiny bit of pride that fills your chest at the reaction to your taunt.
"Ghost," Price mutters, resigned and almost frustrated as he looks at you.
You understand why, as soon as the feeling of a needle imbedding into your neck has you flinching, pain prickling at the intrusion in your muscle.
"What --" you begin, before your legs fall out beneath you, your eyes falling to half mast as Price hefts you up, beefy arms holding you beneath your armpits as your body becomes dead weight.
"Sorry, kid," are the last words you hear, before black overrides all of your senses as drugged sleep takes you.
༊*·˚
Sometime between then, and now, you've found yourself in a white-walled room, blinding lights turning the throbbing in your head from a low pound to an echoing boom of a drum.
"We didn't plan for... any of it to happen the way it did. This was our only choice." Price shakes his head, hands resting at the top of his vest as he studies you.
Right. The virginity, kidnapping and assault thing.
...Great.
"I must've forgot the part where I resisted arrest," you retort, forcing your eyes to remain open, despite the heaviness to them. It's as if a weight has been hung from your eyelids, and every blink drags them down more and more each time.
"Jesus -- you're not under arrest," Price rubs at his eyes, head dipped down as if he's recollecting his thoughts. You're not sure if he's had any sleep, although your sense of time has been completely thrown out of the window.
"Then release me," you say, voice softer than you'd intended, more pleading -- a truer reflection of your current state of mind.
The air is crisp, cool, like that of a hospital. Chemicals and bleach are a potent undertone to the clean scent, and it makes you question what could've previously been done in this room to warrant them.
Your heart pounds almost weakly, and you know if there's any more heartbreaks to come, it might just give out.
How you've resisted a complete mental breakdown is beyond you, and frankly, you'd give yourself a pat on the back if you could. Although, that act might in itself be a sign of insanity.
"Not until we can be assured you're safe," Price insists. "And not until we can clear your name from the books. We have enemies, sweetheart, and those enemies were also your father's. They are not above punishing you for your father's sins."
Your heart is lodged in your throat, and it takes everything in you not to just burst into tears and pray. Pray that this is all some sick joke, some terrifying nightmare that you haven't woken from yet.
But you know it's a baseless hope. You know that this is real.
You're in a military base, somewhere, surrounded by the country's most dangerous men. The most dangerous men on their side, at least.
"So I'm not getting charged for assault?" Your voice is entirely too small for the situation, not for someone who's still cuffed to a bed, going through grief in the most ruthless type of way.
The worst part is that you don't entirely miss your father. You miss the comfort of having a family member, that's true, but he wasn't a good parental figure, and his treatment of you could be classed as abuse to most people.
And from what these four are saying, he wasn't a good man either.
People didn't often talk about how separate the two things were. It was possible to be a great man, but the worst of fathers, and the opposite could be true, too.
Fate had dealt you a bad hand, in giving you one who was terrible on both sides of the coin.
"Technically," Price leans back into his chair, his voice littered with exhaustion, "We... should report it."
Your stomach drops.
Price's eyes meet yours, and somehow, he must see the turmoil battling inside of your head, because he lets out a deep breath, deflating just a bit.
"No. You're not getting charged for assault, sweetheart."
"Don't call me that," you reply, too quick for your brain to catch up. The endearment is entirely too wrong, smarting on a chafing wound, a reminder of the mistakes you'd made, and the deception these men had pulled on you. "...Please."
You refuse to meet his eyes as he nods, slowly, as if in understanding.
"What did he do?" You don't mean to utter those words, to ask that question, but after you do, you can't find it in yourself to regret it. "What made him worthy of death?"
Price rubs a hand over his face, and for the first time, you register the lines of his face. Lines of a story having been told, proof of a life lived. It makes you want to learn, to find the origins of the small scars you can see, the crinkles at the corners of his eyes.
"He broke many promises. Betrayed his team," Price states, and you can tell the millions of words he leaves out, the context better off left unsaid. "He did terrible things. Killed people who had made no faults."
Oh.
For some reason, it hadn't truly hit you, not before now, the truth behind his death. What hadn't you been told?
How hadn't you been made aware that he was -- he was part of the special forces. He was a dangerous man -- he was one of the men he'd warned you about. How blind had you been? For so long? Those business trips, when he'd come with bruises, brushing them off whenever you gained the courage to make attempts of caring, of forming a relationship with the man who raised you.
They weren't business trips. They were missions -- ones with impossibly high death rates.
And he just.
Hadn't said a word. Just continued to treat you like you were worthless, a nuisance, a pain in his ass. Something worth protecting, if only so your weight in gold wasn't minimised.
What were you to do, if he just. Didn't come home after a mission gone awry? If he died on the field. If you woke up one day without a single living family member left.
You only realise that tears have fallen down your cheeks when Price's thumb brushes them away, your nose scrunching with a sniffle.
Jerking back, as if electrocuted, it takes everything in you to glare at the man whose gentle hands had led you to this position in the first place. "Don't touch me."
He backs away. Doesn't argue.
It hurts your heart in a way you don't want to touch with a ten foot pole. Not right now. Not ever, maybe. Preferably.
You let out a deep, stabilising exhale, before weakly meeting Price's gaze. "Can I sleep? Feeling kinda shit after the drugs," you mumble.
Price's lips twist into a grim line, but he nods curtly. "'Course, kid. Call out if you need 'nything."
You just lay back, turning on your side, facing the white wall as the lights turn off, leaving pitch black in its wake. Your wrist smarts where the handcuff has left a red mark, your free hand rubbing at the small patch of visible skin.
If you were more aware, more... ready for the conversations you needed to have, you would've demanded all four of them speak to you right this moment.
But your head is heavy, and thoughts are few and far between.
Grief and confusion cement in your brain like a thick fog, your emotions like cars without lights in the thick mist.
No directions, no ability to brake before crashing into one another.
You're an absolute mess, and you have no one to blame but you and your sick curiosity, your reckless decision making.
But, you realise, this was a long time coming.
Because there's one thing Price -- nor the other three men -- don't know.
Your father wasn't the only one who held secrets.
And it was you who held the key to this force's undoing.
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a/n. lol so like. who's ready for some enemies to lovers? sorry to everyone who wanted immediate hurt/comfort!! for some reason plot lines and depth hit me and i was like. i need to do it justice. so here we are!!!
thank you all SOSOSO much for the reception of the first part. it genuinely means a lot to have people excited about my stories??? like omg youre all SO kind. comments and reblogs make my absolute week!! mwah mwah mwah
taglist comment/msg to be added. @captainjamster @alfa-jor @simp4miguell @yaboibauldano @dreamaboutpinkk @guyser @lovewithasideoflust @redz0mbie @ghost-is-my-bbg @astro-ghoul99 @the-faceless-bride @casterousaudrey @cutiecusp @kit-williams @lilpothoscuttings @florabelll
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unsolvedjarin · 6 months
Note
I was going through a Charles video that mentioned him blacking out in the car at some point. Since I’m a sucker for angst, I was wondering what it would be like for mentor!Seb if it were the reader in that situation instead. Perhaps the season before the one he retires? And maybe we could see more of the reader’s friendship with Charles? Only if you feel inspired by it, of course.
Either way, thank you for sharing your fics with us. They are my favorites and I’m really grateful for having found your blog.
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gif by luchitohamilton
EVERY UNIVERSE.
pairing: (mentor! sebastian vettel x ferrari driver! reader) (charles leclerc x teammate! reader)
summary: qatar is a difficult, hot, and taxing track. that along with you having food poisoning, well…that might not end too well for you. thankfully you can always rely on sebastian and charles to be there for you.
word count: 4k
note: can you guys tell i took inspo from mark webber throwing up in his car and the qatar race this year? it was so sad to watch everyone seem so tired especially lance and logan. anyways, the plot kinda got away from me at the end, i do apologize but the seb feels were too intense 😵‍💫
content warning: car crash, mentions of throwing up, inaccurate depictions of food poisoning
part of this series but can be read without!
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“Ready?”
A familiar voice makes you turn around from your pre-race preparations. “Depends on what your definition of ready is.”
Charles smiles, “I know it’s our first race in Qatar but c’mon, it isn’t that bad.”
“Isn’t that bad? I might melt in the car! Doesn’t help that I almost missed this one because of food poisoning.”
“Ah yes, how could I forget that,” he teases. He couldn’t forget it, because you’d been complaining about it endlessly for the past three days. You had food poisoning because Mark Webber invited you to lunch on Thursday, and accidentally gave you something dodgy. You’ve yet to forgive the man. “Well at least you’re starting from P4. Lets you fight for P1, no?”
“Against Lewis and Charles? Please. In my dreams, maybe. Plus, you’re starting P3, asshole.” You retort, turning back around to put your balaclava on. The second it’s on your head, though, it gets pulled off, and you look behind you for the perpetrator. “Charles give it b– SEBASTIAN!”
The Aston Martin driver gives you a grin before hugging you tightly, lifting you off the ground a bit. You didn’t expect to see him before the race, but the surprise was definitely welcome.
“Oh but if it was me I would have gotten scolded,” Charles mutters, but his complaints were left unheard.
“Just came to wish you luck before the race starts. P4! You’re going to get a podium, I’m sure of it,” Sebastian beams, letting you go from the hug.
“That’s what Charles said too. He was more delusionally optimistic, though. Said I was gonna win.”
“Because I believe in you! Is that so bad?” Charles complains from the side, his comment ignored once again.
“Well maybe Charles is right— you could win. Meanwhile I’m starting in the midfield, again.” Sebastian complains, groaning a little bit.
“Oh cheer up Seb, you survived Ferrari for 6 years, you’ll live.”
He lights up a bit at your joke, moving to say something before an Aston Martin mechanic shows up outside the Ferrari garage. He wasn’t allowed inside, but it was obvious he was looking for Sebastian– who also wasn’t allowed inside, yet mysteriously got in. Nothing to do with him being friends with your mechanics of course, yeah, totally not.
“Ah shoot, well it looks like they’re looking for me,” Sebastian sighs. He starts to walk away before he pauses and moves back towards you, “Hey, stay safe, okay? New track, it’s dangerous. I know we’ve done practice and quali but you can never be too careful. Plus, it’s sweltering hot. Hydrate.”
You roll your eyes fondly, “Yes, dad.”
His face scrunches up a little, “Don’t ever call me that again, I’m not that old.”
“You could barely work my Instagram the other day! All I asked was for you to open Lewis’ stories!”
“Psh, whatever. I have to go, see you after the race, yeah?” He asks, giving your arm a quick squeeze. You nod, murmuring a goodbye to him. He wishes Charles good luck too, before saving his engineer from the Ferrari mechanics blocking him.
“So he can pull your balaclava off– which you hate, by the way, let me remind you– but if I even try adjusting your helmet straps so it’s safer you slap me off?” Charles speaks up, making you break eye contact from the Ferrari garage doors.
You roll your eyes at him with a smile, “You have got to forget that. It was one time. And it was a soft slap to the shoulder!”
“The point still stands,” he retorts, making you give up on the conversation.
“Whatever, Charlie. Just get ready for the race. Stay safe, okay?” you say, putting your balaclava on again. He gives you a quick kiss on the cheek before leaving, a sign of good luck between the two of you. It makes you smile a little before you hop into your car.
Okay. Qatar. New track, new conditions, but still the same old you. You could do this.
The lights go off one by one, and you grip the steering wheel with anticipation like you always did. Race starts still made you nervous no matter how long you’d been racing. One light goes off…then the next…then the third…the fourth one follows…and then…
“AND IT’S LIGHTS OUT AND AWAY WE GO!”
The first few laps were a breeze, maintaining your position in fourth despite Fernando being on your tail the whole time. You noticed the car was slightly hotter than usual, but decided to ignore it and chalk it up to new changes in the engine.
Around lap 25 you started to feel a bit dizzy and sick during the sharp corners, cursing yourself internally for having such bad timing with the food poisoning. “Charles is 0.200 seconds ahead, feel free to overtake,” your engineer buzzes through the radio.
“Copy,” you reply, not really paying attention, still feeling sick. You overtake Charles with ease around the outside, him not putting up much of a fight because it would have taken both of you out. Now you just had to maintain this position for…dear god, 32 laps.
“Lewis 5 seconds ahead, focus on tire degradation instead.” Your engineer’s warning goes unheard, though, as you noticed the cockpit was getting way too fucking hot.
“The car’s burning up,” you say into your radio, getting only a simple “Copy, we are checking,” back.
“Okay, Y/N there are no problems with your engines, I repeat; no problem.”
What? That’s impossible. You felt like you were melting in there. “Are you sure? Can you ask Charles if his car feels like the sun too?”
“Negative, focus on the race.”
Oh you were going to kill them one day– if they don’t kill you first. A few more laps passed in those horrible conditions before turn 5 rolled around and as you swerved your car, you started to see black spots around your vision.
That can’t be good, you think, having to close your eyes for a second before shaking your head and snapping yourself back into the race. Thankfully Charles had pitted earlier and had a 3 second gap to you. “I don’t feel too well.”
“Copy. Is it the car?”
“Well it’s definitely part of the problem.”
The next few turns were torture, your head bobbing around as you faded in and out of consciousness through the fast corners. Charles was catching up now, and you knew if you didn’t do something soon, he would pass you.
You wanted this podium. You needed it. If you got P3 you would grab P4 on driver standings.
There was a slow corner coming up that was a good overtaking spot, and so you had to defend.
As the turn came around– faster than you expected– the extreme heat of the car, your headache, sweat, food poisoning, and dizziness came together and you suddenly felt light, as if you were flying, before a jolt knocked you out of your consciousness completely.
You were out for less than a minute, but that minute counted for everything. You completely turned into Charles, him having to swerve onto the gravel just so you wouldn’t crash into each other. Your car, however, still had more speed in it, and you were headed towards the wall on the very far side of the gravel.
Thankfully, the rough rocks had shook you awake enough that you were able to swerve away from the wall extremely last minute and only take the tail and back wheel of your car out.
The next few seconds were a blur.
You still felt faint, but could hear a muffled voice headed towards you. You knew the back of your car was completely ruined and you were out of the race, and you put your helmet in your hands in disappointment. You were having such a good run before this happened. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
The muffled voice running towards you was closer now, and you registered it to be Charles. He was saying something but you could barely hear him with how your ears were ringing and how the seat of the car was still hot.
The man quickly realized you weren’t hearing him, and opted to come closer and lift your visor up. “Smoke. Car. Get out!”
He didn’t need to tell you twice. You pushed yourself up but barely, Charles having to lift you up by your shoulders. Once out of the car you completely collapsed on the floor, only having your teammate catch you.
“I think I’m gonna throw up,” you say drowsily, still fighting the urge to pass out.
“Safety car is coming, stay with me now,” he replies, tapping your helmet so you stay awake. You were grateful your friend was there with you.
On track, however, Sebastian had just been informed of what went down. “What the fuck? What happened?”
“L/N completely turned into Leclerc. Driver error, push on for P9.”
Sebastian hated how his engineer sounded like a robot reporting a technical statistic. He saw the aftermath of the accident for a split second, and it didn’t look like your car was in good shape. He worries about what shape you were in. “Are they okay?”
“Safety car is coming out for L/N and to crane the car, but other than that they seem fine.”
“Injuries?”
“Please focus on the race, Sebastian.”
“INJURIES!” he shouts into his radio, annoyed. He wouldn’t be able to focus on the race until he knew you were alright.
“Uh…L/N seems to be out of it and on the floor, but they’re okay. They’ll be fine, Seb.” His engineer adds the last statement to reassure the man. He knew you meant a lot to him. Seb nods to himself in the car, carrying on with the race. The faster this finished the faster he could get to you.
The safety car came out and they all slowed down, Sebastian finally being able to take a second long look at the accident. Your car was still there, the smoke coming out of it being extinguished by a personnel. Sebastian thinks he ought to have a word with the Ferrari mechanics after the race. He then notices you, on your knees in the gravel, only being kept up by a driver he can only assume to be Charles. Sebastian thinks that should be him there supporting you, but at the same time he’s glad he wasn’t the one who you nearly crashed into. He couldn’t have it on his consciousness that he could have hit you.
“‘m sorry for ruining your race,” you mumble, still being held up by Charles. The man shakes his head, “It was ruined before that, don’t worry. My engine was acting up.”
You knew he was lying to make you feel better, his engine was completely fine. He was headed for the podium earlier, his first in a while. And you completely botched his chance to get it. The thought makes you sob a little, along with the fact that you ruined your own race.
Crying wasn’t the greatest thing to do, though, as it only made you more lightheaded. Charles notices this and takes your helmet off for you, despite your protests pre-race. You were grateful that he did, though, as the second he took your helmet and balaclava off you felt like you had a breath of fresh air for the first time.
“Better?”
You nod, unable to speak. You still felt dizzy and sick. Charles felt annoyed that the safety personnel were taking so long to get to you, waving them over to walk quicker. Squinting your eyes a little, you find them with some health personnels, and you sink a little lower into the gravel.
“God not again,” you groan, remembering the events that unfolded back in Spa. You did not need to go to the medical tent. As you attempt to get up, however, you fall back down as your vision blurred. Looks like medical tent it is again.
The rest of the race went particularly well. Lewis won the race and Fernando got his first podium since 2014– which you reminded yourself to congratulate him for once you were out of the medical tent– and Seb ended up P9, a position higher than where he started. That would usually be a mediocre result but with his shitty car, you were pretty impressed.
“Water?” A familiar voice makes you look away from the TV screen in the room. Charles sat beside your bed, holding a plastic bottle of water. You nod and take it from him, chugging the cool liquid down.
“Sorry again for ruining your race,” you say as you finish drinking. Charles shakes his head, “Stop apologizing. You passed out, that was no fault of yours.”
“You passed out!?” A loud concerned voice makes both of you snap your head towards the door of the room. Sebastian stood there, still in his race suit like the both of you, a shocked look on his face.
“Is that what happened? You passed out mid race?” He asks again, but this time softer. He walks towards your medical bed– which you insisted you didn’t need– before putting his hand on your forehead to check if you had a fever. The action makes you giggle, but Sebastian had a serious look that shut you up quickly.
He shakes his head with a sigh, “You have a bit of a fever.”
“Any other fun observations?”
Sebastian didn’t seem to be in the mood for your wit, though. “You could have been injured. Just a few meters and you could have fully hit the wall. If you were just a few seconds late waking up you would have–”
He shuts his eyes and stops himself. He didn’t want to think about what could have happened anymore. His voice got wobbly during the end of his statement, making you realize that he was stopping himself from crying. You absentmindedly sit up and reach for his hand, squeezing it gently.
“I’m here, Seb. And I’m fine. Look at me.”
The older driver does, slowly opening his eyes. You squeeze his hand a second time, a soft smile on your lips. “I’m here. And look, I’m completely fine. You’re not getting rid of me that quickly old man.”
Seb lets out a chuckle at that, moving to hug you tightly.
“Don’t ever scare me like that again,” he mumbles into your hair. “Why did you even pass out?”
“I was already a little dizzy before getting in the car because of the heat but I tried ignoring it. The car was overheating too and it made me dehydrated, I think. My drink pouch wasn’t a lot of help either when the water was steaming hot. Plus…” you trail off, not really wanting to talk ill of Webber.
“Mark gave her food poisoning when he took her to lunch,” Charles butted in, making you give him a look. You forgot he was in the room.
“Mark? As in Webber?” Sebastian asks, Charles nodding in response. “The bastard.”
“Oh c’mon Seb, he just wanted to treat me to lunch. It’s not like he poisoned my food on purpose.”
Seb sighs deeply before agreeing, “You’re right. Sorry. I’m just– I don’t know.”
“I get it. I mean, this is my second time at the medical tent in three months. Makes you think how accident prone I am,” you joke. Sebastian laughs, and you’re glad you got the worried look in his face away.
“The one in Spa was completely your fault, but we may have to pin this one on Mark,” Seb teases. You shoot him a grin, “Yeah, we can say that.”
Before you could talk more, though, a PR person from both Ferrari and Aston Martin came in to fetch Charles and Sebastian.
“What about me?” you ask, getting up from your bed. It wasn’t like you were injured or anything, you were just a little sick and had a bit of a stomach ache. You’d already thrown up earlier, so you felt pretty normal now.
“Sorry, we have orders to keep you here.”
You scoff, “Please. What can they do if I walk out?”
Before the Ferrari PR agent could reply, though, you were already out the room. She stands there helpless, making Sebastian and Charles chuckle to each other before following you. You were always stubborn when you wanted to be.
The second you’re out of the medical tent, camera flashes overwhelm your eyes. You walk past them as you always do, but the contrast of the light to the night sky makes you a bit lightheaded again, having to hold Sebastian’s arm for support. He moves your hand from his arm to his own hand, interlocking it with yours and pull you through the crowd. There were no words needed to be said, he always knew what you needed. You’re starting to think he can read minds.
Once past the annoying lot of cameras, you make it to the media pen where at least they pestered you in a more civil way. The interviewers were all over you and Charles, looking for some inside scoop on ‘Ferrari drama.’ Turns out, the media thought you tried to purposely take Charles out a la brocedes style. Because of this you had to clarify to every person you talked to that, “No, I did not try to take Charles out on purpose. I passed out. We’re good. Yes, we’re still friends.”
Once that was all over, you headed over to the Channel 4 area to give a certain someone a piece of your mind. “Mark Webber.”
The man turns around to the mention of his full name, smiling when he notices who it is. “Y/N! Glad you’ve come and joined us! We’re on in about five minutes, we can do a segment about the crash but if you wanna talk about something else on screen that’s fine too, we can–”
“You gave me food poisoning!” you butt in. “I cannot believe you.” His coworkers give him a look, as if they were holding in a laugh at him being scolded.
Mark stands there with his mouth agape, unsure what to say. “Wasn’t that three days ago? Are you sure it’s me?”
Rolling your eyes, you reply, “Yes, I’m sure it’s you. It started three days ago, and guess who I was with when I ate something unusual three days ago? Oh right, it’s you!”
He pauses for a moment before bursting into laughter, trying to cover his mouth to no avail. “Sorry, it’s not funny that you almost crashed, I’m glad you’re safe, but– ha!– I cannot believe it was because of the dodgy Indian food!”
You gave him a shove, trying to act mad, but the smile on your face betrayed you. His laughter was contagious. “You are such an asshole.”
“Awh cheer up,” he gives you a side hug, ruffling your hair a little. “Sorry for giving you food poisoning, mate. I’ll make it up to you, whaddya think about lunch on me tomorrow?”
You escape his side hug when you hear him say that, “Absolutely not! I’m never trusting you again with food recommendations.”
The statement makes him laugh again, and you chuckle along with him. Hard to be mad at someone who didn’t do it on purpose. Sebastian walked over to the two of you, having watched the interaction from afar.
“Look who’s coming over,” Mark mumbled, making you notice Seb trying to pretend to just ‘bump’ into the two of you. “Still competitive ‘till now, eh? Don’t worry, I’m not trying to out-mentor you,” Mark says out loud, grabbing the attention of the German.
Seb tilts his head with a faux oblivious look, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He grabs you by the arm and ‘discreetly’ pulls you over to his side. ‘No idea’ my ass.
The Australian scoffs with a grin, “Whatever you say mate. Listen, I gotta get back because our feed is going live in a few minutes, but you two take care, alright? Nice to see you again Seb.”
“You too, Mark.” Sebastian replies, this time genuinely. While the media knew the two drivers were now on good terms, they didn’t know just how close they had gotten. The two went bowling at least once every two months just to catch up with each other, you being there for half their competitions– yes, they still competed. Apparently that sense of wanting to beat your former teammate does not go away. So far this year, Mark’s been winning.
Before Mark completely walked away, he looked back at you for a second, “Oh, and, I am happy you got out injury free from that nasty crash. Genuinely glad you’re okay. Sorry that my dodgy food contributed to your sickness.”
You wave him off, “It’s fine, Mark. It’s not like you could’ve known I would get food poisoning. Although, next time maybe check online reviews.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” he smiled, waving you a goodbye as he ran to his coworkers who were already getting impatient.
You shake your head with a grin, “Well at least that’s over with.”
Sebastian slings his arm around your shoulder, “True. So want to get dinner?”
“Absolutely not. I think I’m done with food for a good while.”
“Well you have to eat something,” he insists, as you both walk through the paddock. “How about we get room service?”
“Eh, it’s late, I don’t really want a repeat of Monaco 2019.”
Monaco 2019 was when you and Seb got room service at 10pm because you didn’t check the time. Safe to say the staff weren’t very happy with that. You both felt so bad while eating that food.
“We can just get McDonalds then,” you suggest.
“McDonalds?” Charles asks, popping out from god knows where.
“Jesus, where the hell were you hiding? The atoms?” You ask.
“I was here the whole time.”
“You were not,” Sebastian comments. Charles simply shrugs, tagging along with the two of you, not caring that he was obviously third wheeling a moment. “So McDonalds?”
You roll your eyes, “Yes, McDonalds. But you’re paying because you’re tagging along.”
“No fair! Sebastian is richer than me!”
You both give Charles a look at the same time. Charles thinks it’s eerie how alike the two of you were.
“Charles,” Sebastian starts, patting the Monegasque’s back with one arm with his other still slung around your shoulders. Your accident made him very clingy, but you weren’t about to tell him that. “Let me phrase this as nicely as I can; you are from Monaco. You are rich.”
Charles lets out a sigh, “Fine. I’ll buy the food.”
You clap, “Fuck yeah! Food on the rich man!”
“We have the same salary in our contracts?”
“Shh, that’s not important,” you say, shushing Charles. “Food on the rich man! Although, we may have to go to the hotel right after and just get take out. I can feel Mark’s Indian food from three days ago still fighting with me.”
Charles is the one to roll his eyes this time, “I’ll get the car so we can get there faster, your highness.”
“Thank you, Lord Perceval.”
“Don’t call me that!” he shouts, already walking away to the parking lot.
That left you and Sebastian alone again, just enjoying the company of one another, walking slowly down the paddocks. There were few people now, most having gone back to their hotels to call it a night.
“You know, I’m glad I found you.”
The words make you look up at the older driver, who you find smiling at you. “What do you mean by that?”
“I mean obviously we would find each other, there’s only so many drivers in Formula One. But I mean I’m glad I found you in this life.”
“Do you think we don’t find each other in other lives?”
Sebastian pauses and thinks for a second. He’s thought about the other career paths he could have taken throughout his life– other lives he could have lived. He knows there’s no logical way, but he thinks he still would have found you in those lives. The thought makes him smile to himself.
“No, I think we do.”
“Well then good. Because me too,” you reply, giving him a smile of your own. “Why did you suddenly think about it though?”
Sebastian shrugs, “I don’t know. I just felt suddenly sentimental. Feels like a chapter of my life closed but I’m not sure what or why.”
Little did he know that he would start contemplating retirement a few weeks after that.
“Oh well, it doesn’t matter. Whether we find each other in other lifetimes, I mean.”
Seb raises his eyebrow, him now being the one confused. “What do you mean?”
“I mean we’re both here now. Enjoying each other’s company. Why bother thinking about versions of ourselves in other universes when we’ve got each other in this one?”
Sebastian gives you the most genuine, softest smile at that. “I love you, I don’t tell you that enough.”
You scrunch your face, “Ew. Sounds like a love confession. Sorry but you’re too old for me.”
“You know what I mean. I love you but not in that way. That’s just gross,” Sebastian says, hitting your shoulder.
“Relax old man, I’m just teasing,” you giggle, trying to avoid his hit. “Love you too. Ew. Sorry, not great with verbal affection. Pretty sure that just made me throw up a bit, and that’s not even with the help of the food poisoning.”
Sebastian just shakes his head, “Okay c’mon now, Charles will be annoyed with how slow we’re walking.”
Later that night, the three of you watched a cheesy romcom while sharing a shit load of fries and chicken nuggets. As you carried on through the night you thought to yourself that despite the hardships of F1, the crashing, the disappointments, the injuries– it brought you a second family you never thought you’d have. And you wouldn’t trade it for any other universe.
Although, maybe a universe where you didn’t get food poisoning.
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Note
You asked for Spencer Reid and Reader requests, particularly plus size, and I am so down bad for that man! Especially later seasons him.
Could I have one where he and the reader are intellectual peers but also enemies? Like she's on the team and just as wicked smart as him and into old literature and languages but they constantly butt heads? And the team knows they really just have feelings for each other, but they'll never admit it. Maybe the reader admits it to Penelope or someone one night drinking that he's hot but she never thought he'd actually sleep with her bc she's fat, but she'll take his attention any way she can get it. Maybe Spencer overhears and proceeds to show her just how hot he finds her arguing with him? 👀 Thank you in advance, girlie!
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༉‧₊˚. 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 || 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝
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— pairing: spencer reid x plus size!reader
— summary: you and spencer hate each other, that much is obvious... right?
— warnings: very surprisingly crude language in this, self-doubt, implied insecurities, misunderstandings, e2l, they're in love and everyone else knows besides them, i made them dorks i don't apologize, mentions of wet dreams, mentions of male masturbation, dirty thoughts, kissing, stripping, vaginal fingering, spencer's dirty mouth, lots of reassurance 'cause i'm a sap, spencer reid #1 consent king, missionary, unprotected sex, sex god spencer?!?! (he does his research), pleasure dom!spencer, switch r & spencer, heavy praise, and a fluffy ending to tie this all up in a nice little bow!
— wc: 3136
⋆ a/n: okay i do admit that this is RIDICULOUSLY long, but i knew exactly what i was getting into writing this and honestly i had so much fun! i don't think i've ever created such characters that have so much chemistry with each other, so cheers to that! (unedited unfortunately :[)
masterlist | AO3
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As soon as you hear Spencer’s voice, you make a point to groan obnoxiously loud.
“And just to think I would be able to go home without a headache today.” 
You could feel the glare from said man burning a hole in the back of your head, so you swivel your chair around in order to face the music – in a pleasurable masochist kind of way. His annoyingly handsome face was twisted up in irritation – much to your glee – his eyebrows turned down, and his perfect, plush lips pulled into a deep frown. 
You could tell you had interrupted him saying something that he deemed important, most likely a fact that you and him would go back and forth on, and you couldn’t be more pleased with yourself.
“Funny you mention that seeing as though your voice is the cause of mine.” He bit back, his eyes narrowed into slits. “Aw, you think of my voice?” You tease. “Only in my nightmares.” You wink at him. “You still think about me.”.
“You know what this reminds me of?” Luke piped up from his own desk, drawing the attention from your other intrigued co-workers in the bullpen. “Oh here we go.” Tara said in amusement at Luke’s rambling.
“Back when I was a kid there was this girl that I went to school with, and I would always tug on her hair or try to trip her,” His voice was almost reminiscent. “Everyone thought I hated her, when in reality I was just trying to get her attention.”
“Ah,” Matt said with a smile, “The classic ‘boy bullying the girl he likes,’ or in this case, it’s the girl this time.” Your cheeks began to heat and your eyes went wide, Spencer’s own face and the tips of his ears turning an admirable pink hue.
“Absolutely not -”
“What? No -”
Both Spencer and you stumbled over each other to try and defend yourself, but you didn’t have a chance because Emily’s voice cut through whatever was about to be said next, the woman making haste from her office and into the room with the round table.
“Alright you guys, enough. We’ve got a case.”
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“To a job well done!” Penelope cheered as she held up her citrusy alcoholic beverage in the air, signaling she wanted to toast.
You smiled indulgently at the woman sitting next to you, clinking your glass with hers noisily and flickering your eyes over to where a disheveled Spencer Reid sat. You didn’t say anything to him though, because you’re a big ol’ softie and like to let the boy wonder rest before you have him back on his toes.
His eyes met yours the same time your glasses collided. You wish you could say that the vibrations from the clinking was the cause of the shiver that forced its way down your spine, but you knew better. 
It was like the rest of the bar disappeared, the sound of the others joining in on your rejoicing fell on deaf ears. You could have sworn his dark brown puppy-dog eyes drank you in before he looked away and cleared his throat, taking a rather comically large gulp of his water.
Your eyelashes fluttered like a thousand butterflies wings as you rushed to drink your own beverage.
“Okay, what was that!?” You felt Penelope’s finger poke at your ribs before you actually heard her. 
“Ow - fuck! What was what?” You yelped quietly, your hand reaching down to bat away her stabbing digits. “The - the -” She fought to portray her words before her face lit up when she found the correct ones, “The eyefucking!” 
Your stomach erupted in butterflies, “Eyefucking? What eyefucking?” You asked with a scoff, hiding your blush behind the rim of your mug. 
“Oh, please, don’t give me that.” It was Penelope’s turn to scoff at you. “Everybody knows that you and Spencer like each other.” She said it almost like it was a fact, leaning forward to take a smug sip of her drink through the miniature black straw.
Spencer knew listening in on Penelope and your conversation was inappropriate; but in his defense, you guys weren’t really quiet about what you were talking about.
“I -” He heard you begin, “It’s one-sided.” Was all you said before draining your beer. “So you admit it!” Penelope exclaimed with a gasp.
Spencer felt his eyes go wide at her words, but there was this desperate feeling that spread throughout his body; one that caused his fingers to twitch and the hair stand up on the back of his neck.
“When you put it like that it sounds childish!” You complained slightly, biting at the meat of your lip. “I… I’m just not his type you know? Like - you know better than anyone that guys don’t pay attention to girls like us, so you have to learn to improvise.” You were cringing at your own words, but the liquid in your cup was enough to loosen your tongue and lower your inhibitions.
“Was me choosing to constantly argue with him the smartest way to try and peak his interest? No, but I knew he liked a challenge and well… it definitely wasn’t the proudest conclusion I ever came to, but what was I supposed to do? It isn’t like Spencer would date me let alone actually want to sleep with me.”
Spencer wanted to argue with you about how wrong you were, to tell you about every thought he’d ever had about you.
He wanted to tell you about how much you frustrate him, how at first, he thought he hated you and it took him an embarrassingly long time to realize he hated how badly he wanted you; hated how many dirty dreams he had included you and that plush body of yours. He’d wondered how soft you were, how you smelled and tasted. 
Did your moans and whines sound as enchanting as your laugh? Did your eyes twinkle the same way when you were about to cum? 
Those thoughts kept him up at night and his hands in his pants, stroking himself to his unlimited imagination all revolved around you. Those were the days that he was more prone to pick fights with you, mostly because he was embarrassed, ashamed, and quite frankly plain ol’ horny.
Spencer thought you were just so sexy, especially when he had managed to light that fire under your ass that really got you going. He wasn’t a sadist or a masochist by any means, but he loved when you yelled at him. So, for you to think so lowly of yourself it almost drove him mad because you didn’t know.
But you were going to.
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You were going to kill whoever was bothering you on your day off.
The knocking was unexpected, but so was who was responsible for the noise.
“Spencer?” You asked in surprise. 
Usually you were prepared for your exchanges with the man, but if your pajamas were anything to go by, you were anything but. Spencer felt his mouth go dry at the sight of your tits sitting braless in a thin undershirt, your soft tummy slightly straining against the cotton material and a pair of shorts that look like they were practically strangling your thighs.
The only thing he could really say was… “Do you know how infuriating you are?”
Your eyebrows furrowed and you crossed your arms over your chest, and little did you know the action pressed the tops of your breasts over the hemline. “Excuse me?” You almost scoffed, “Please don’t tell me you came all the way here just to argue with me.”
“No I - fuck just let me finish.” This was not how he wanted this to go. You looked like you wanted to say something but your curiosity made you choose to stay silent.
“Do you know why you’re so infuriating?” He asked, taking a tentative but careful step towards you. “Because you haunt my every living thought. I see you when I’m awake, I see you when I’m asleep. I can’t… I can’t escape you! I can’t escape how I feel about you.”
Your eyes were wide and your brows were furrowed; it looked like you almost couldn’t breathe.
“But you want to know the worst part?” His hand lands on your cheek and his thumb gently caresses the skin there. “You have the audacity to think that I wouldn’t want you.” 
“You want me?” You asked in disbelief. “But I… but I thought you hated me? I mean - I haven’t been all that nice to you.” You attempt to joke weakly, but your body is on fire; your stomach is tangled up in knots. You were trembling in excitement at his words but in disbelief too.
“Do you have any idea how much I love arguing with you?”
You laughed at his words, your lips slipping into a small smirk as you threw your arms around his neck in an act of boldness. “Oh yeah?” You hummed seductively. “You wanna show me how much?”
“Yeah,” He replied breathlessly. “I do.”
And just like that his mouth was on yours and a long leg shot out behind him to shut your front door. The slam made you yelp, but it quickly melted into a giggle against his lips when he reconnected them.
Spencer tugged you closer to him, and God the feeling of your body was so much better than anything his subconscious could have conjured up. You felt so soft and the front part of your torso pressed against his chest in a way that if he didn’t have you naked under him soon he was going to go crazy.
“Where’s your bedroom?” He didn’t want to pull away from you, but he wanted to do this right.
“I didn’t know you were a gentleman, Reid.” You teased with a dazed smile on your face. “There’s a lot of things that you don’t know about me.” You quirked a brow. “Oh really? How about you tell me?”
“Later,” He said with a lazy shake of his head, “Later.”
His hand reached down to cup your ass, your crotch rubbing on the large boner restrained by his pants. You moaned quietly at the feeling, and found yourself saying, “Down the hall and to the left.”
When you arrived, he couldn’t keep his hands off you; they grabbed at your back, ass, waist, hips. There was so much of you that he had no idea where to start. All he knew is that he wanted all of you right now.
“Can I take your shirt off, please?” His words almost came out as a whine and it welcomed a fresh wave of arousal in your panties. “Take off whatever you want, I’m yours.” A reassuring confession that Spencer had no idea he needed to hear. 
His lithe, veiny hands tugged at your top first, dragging it over your head and throwing it somewhere random. Your pants and panties were next to go and you couldn’t help but shiver at Spencer's intense stare.
“I’m uh- feeling a little vulnerable here, could you lose a layer or two?” 
The man blinked rapidly, his fingers shooting to undo the buttons on his cardigan. “Yes, yeah of course, sorry I -'' You grabbed the shaky digits. “Calm down, take it slow. I’m not going anywhere.” It was a light jab meant to ease his nerves. For a moment he looked unsure but you gave an encouraging smile.
After his clothes disappeared he held you by your waist, walking you backwards until your calves hit the bed. You quickly hurried to scale the mattress until your head hit the pillows.
“God,” Spencer gulped. “This is so much better than what I imagined.” You giggled slightly. “As much as I appreciate your flattery, I want you to fuck me. Now.” You said it with such simplicity that his eyes nearly bulged out of his sockets at your crudeness.
He swallowed his shock. “Whatever the lady wants.”
He hurried to crawl over your leaning body; you cup his cheek in an act of haste, dragging him down to lay on top of you. His own hands didn’t stop their determined trail, tracing the soft planes of your plush body until he reached your wet cunt.
You whine loudly at the feeling of Spencer’s fingers stroking your damp slit.
“So responsive.” He murmured with delighted smirk. You go to say something snarky but you’re quickly cut off when he begins to rub tight circles on your clit. “‘M sensitive.” You gasp against his lips, your back arching and pressing further into him.
His body falls to the side, laying next to your naked one with a cheek balanced on his fist. “I’m gonna make you cum on my fingers first,” Spencer whispers into your ear. His ring finger entered your warmth slowly and he felt himself choke on his words. You mewled, a hand shooting up to tangle in his long, curly hair, the other grabbed at his wrist.
“Then, I’m gonna make you cum on my cock.” After a few experimental twists of his wrist, his middle finger joins the first. Your breathing speeds up with every movement of his digits. 
“Afterwards, ‘m gonna clean you up and take you out to eat.” Your brain could barely process what he was saying, but every word that left his mouth added to the swarming butterflies in your gut – which felt so juvenile seeing as though he was already knuckle deep inside you.
“And when we get home, I’m gonna eat this sweet pussy for dessert.” 
Your eyelashes were fluttering rapidly, your hips moving frantically on his fingers in an attempt to try and get him deeper. Spencer must have sensed what you needed, because with a few firm swipes on your sensitive clit sent you spiraling over the edge.
“Spencer, Spencer, Spencer… I - I -” Your gummy walls squeezed his digits, and the only thing keeping you grounded was the heat coming from his body.
“Wow.” You laughed breathlessly. “Wow indeed.” He mimics with the same amount of amusement.
“Are you okay to keep going?” He asks. 
“Are you kidding?” The look on his face was almost laughable, and you gave his naked chest an encouraging pat. “Hell yeah I’m good, how about you?”
“If I told you I could cum just from watching you, would you believe me?” You roll your eyes and snort. “We’ll find out later, loverboy. Get up here.”
He scrambles to get on top of you, but then stops. “Wait, wait,” He reaches behind your head and grabs a pillow. “Lift your hips up for me.” Your eyes go wide, because who in the fuck taught him that? Though you move a bit slowly through your surprise, he manages to get the soft thing under you, your lower back now elevated.
But all excitement dies out when he realizes there might be no protection, he looks like he could almost cry.
“It’s cool, Spence. I’m on the pill and I… I haven’t had sex with anyone in an embarrassingly long time.” You admit shyly, your eyes casting to the side nervously. “I’m clean too. I don’t really remember the last time I’ve had sex either.” 
You guys make eye contact and erupt into a fit of giggles, “To relearning the art of sexual intercourse then.” Spencer scrunches his nose up at your wording, but you don’t give him any time to retort because you’ve already placed two hands on his face, tugging his head down to kiss your smile-split lips.
He takes the time to kiss you for a moment before reaching down to line his dick up to your entrance. You both shiver at the sensation. You guys disconnect your lips to watch him enter you, your foreheads pressed together and breaths mingled in anticipation.
You moaned in unison when he slowly but surely seethed himself in you fully, and your body tensed at the long awaited intrusion. “Gimme a sec.” You gulped. “Yeah, yeah, of course.” He panted.
You allowed yourself a moment to relax, brushing your fingers through his curls as a way to comfort Spencer as well. After taking a few more seconds to enjoy the raw, intimate moment between the two of you, you said, “Okay. Okay, I’m good.” 
Spencer licked his lips and rolled his hips tentatively, and your breath hitched. A string of whimpers were soon to follow with every drag of his cock against your sensitive inner walls, the leftovers of your previous orgasm leaving your body feeling electric.
Your mouth drops open into an ‘o’ shape when his tip brushes your g-spot.
“Right - right there Spence…good boy - fuck - good fucking boy.” 
The term of endearment was an accidental slip of the tongue, but it had frayed some nerve in his body, because the groan that left him was guttural and hungry.
“Say -” He huffs. “Say it again, please.” The pace of his thrusts speed up as he begs, and your nails drag down his back. “You’re my good boy, Spencie.” His eyes flutter shut at the praise and he doesn’t bother to be gentle anymore.
“Mphm! More - I need more.”
“Okay, okay.” He rushed to balance on his elbow so that his other arm could slip between the two of your bodies to rub at your clit. Your back arched, and Spencer all but throbbed inside of you, his balls tightening and threatening to cum right then and there; but ever the gentleman, he waited, his stomach sucked in tightly and his body jolting quivering.
“I - I’m gonna cum.” 
It didn’t take much to pull you into a kiss. It was sloppy, and messy, and lewd and all of those other wonderful synonyms. Spit dribbled down your chins and with one last hard thrust that almost sent you up the bed, you gripped onto the older man for dear life.
Everything went white as you came; your hearing, your vision, every single cognitive thought you had pretty much flew out the window.
It was Spencer gently wiping the sweat off of your brow that brought you back down to reality, your lungs finally opening up and expanding for that much needed air.
“Hey,” He cooed. “There you are.”
“Hi,” You sighed with a ditzy smile on your face.
There was a moment of silence before you said, “How about we save the oral for breakfast?” Spencer laughed, but nonetheless nodded in agreement. “That sounds perfect.”
“So, what’s for dessert then?” He couldn’t help but ask. “Hm…” You pondered for a moment. 
“How about ice cream?”
“I like ice cream.” But then he added, “But I like you more.”
“Ugh, you’re the worst.” You groaned, covering your eyes, but your grin gave you away. “I like you too, I guess.”
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ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @their-love @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy @phoenixblack89 @celtic-crossbow @hallecarey1 @bunnybabe-babydoll @alixwriter @dixonzzgirl @violettavirus @khxna
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wyvernest · 9 months
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feast on me
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pairing: dom!miguel o'hara x f!reader
warnings: smut, foodplay, grinding, marking, possessive miguel, objectification,
summary: you and miguel try something new, and he gets lost in the raw lust of enjoying every inch of your body
You are sprawled out on his king size bed, waiting. Your heart is drumming in your chest, eyes never leaving his.
"I've been dreaming about this." He rasps, looking down at your form, gaze piercing and imposing. Your attention flows down his perfectly sculpted abdomen, down to the boxers that do very little concealing to his erection.
Leaning down, hovering over you, he makes you feel small, submitted. You let a near animalistic feeling rush through your veins, that he owns you entirely, that your only purpose is to obey him and do his bidding. And the best part about it, it makes your panties soak and mind fuzzy with lust, the way he has you on your knees with just one look. 
Gripping both your wrists with one hand, he releases a strong web string, restraining them to the bed frame. Climbing on the bed, his weight and height alone reminding you of the strength and stamina you're about to try to endure, he traps your thighs in between his, the pressure between your legs increasing. 
His nostrils flare momentarily, pupils dilated. Your breathing is already laboured in anticipation. He bends down, straying from the plan, just to sense how aroused you are. Your scent floods his lucidity, his cock visibly twitching under the flimsy fabric.
"Miguel.. get on with it already. Stop teasing."
"Let me enjoy it, mi vida." His tone is dripping with need and desperation, held back only by his desire to be the one in charge. "You smell so good when you're so ready for me."
You feel burning heat rise to your face. "Ah, Miguel," the rest of the plea dissolves into a moaned sigh.
"Estás bien rica, mami", he licks and bites at the dip of your waist, puffing hot breaths over the soft skin. "Make me hard with just one look."
You begin squirming, wanting to feel more. Wanting him to stick to the idea he had.
With a groan, he reaches for the bedside table, taking the syrup. Your eyes widen, as if you haven't discussed it already. He removes the cap with evident impatience before he starts pouring it over your chest and waist in calculated motions. You flinch as the liquid drips down your naked body, avoiding his lustful gaze. 
When he deems it sufficient, he gets rid of the bottle and stares down at you in awe, a starved man with a five course meal right in front of him. 
His eyelids hang low over his wide blown pupils, showcasing not a single thought beyond wanting to get his mouth on you and dick between your soaked folds. With his arms now bracketing your torso, he gets to work.
You feel like a piece of meat, the prey he's devouring so hungrily, nothing to stop or bother him. You moan his name as his warm breath falls heavily over your flushed skin, indecisive about the place he should start.
And he goes for your neck.
The scent of him, cologne and his distinctive musk invade you like pheromones, drowning out the sweet essence of the syrup. He groans against the crook of your neck, and you give a futile attempt to free your legs from his hold and rub your cunt on his hard cock. He licks the liquid clean from your skin, paying close attention to the sensitive spots he has learned so well. You instinctively tilt your head to the side, your body silently begging him not to stop without your mind even present. One of his hands travels down your side, kneading the soft flesh of your breast, careful not to smudge the cream. 
"Let me.." You whine, pushing into him, feeling the considerable weight of his fat cock laying on your lower belly as he leans down further over you. He can't help but chase the friction, either.
He raises to your face in response, swallowing your empty begging. You taste the aroma of the syrup on your tongue, eager  to prolong the kiss. But before you can deepen the connection, he departs, leaving you even more riled up and utterly frustrated. 
"You're so pretty when you're needy." He teases right into your ear, before resuming the licks and bites down your neck. He has to actively stop himself from sinking his teeth in your skin, the feeling of your smooth and soft skin, the heat of your need, are clouding his judgement.
He reaches your collarbones, his hot tongue lapping up the liquid, always followed by open-mouthed pecks and small bites. You arch your back into his touch, needing his mouth just a couple inches lower. He continues to lick your skin clean, slowly and mindlessly grinding his erection into you.
You feel used, strictly for his pleasure. You're nothing but a fuck toy, unable to voice your own frustrations, forced to take whatever he'll give you. 
You try to move your hips against him, but his thighs tense impossibly tighter around you, and you think you're going to die right then and there.
"Mira qué tetas tan bonitas", He rasps before taking one nipple in his mouth, sucking lightly. You whimper and push your chest closer to his face. 
He extends his tongue to press it flat over the tender flesh of your breast, indulging in the feeling of your skin, heated up underneath his touch. He kisses hard over the expanse of your chest, almost hurriedly. 
Your brain is fried with the wet sounds reverberating in your ears, combined with the unabashed groans of the man on top of you.
Your chest is covered in his spit; marked up in various spots by reddening patches, the traces of his need to make you his. You smell like him, and you really are, utterly and completely, his.
He licks up a long stipe of syrup through the valley between your breasts and looks up to you, before taking both of them in his hands, groping and fondling, playing with the soft flesh as he continues his kisses down your navel, to the line of your waist. 
Your eyes roll back as you let out a deep breath you didn't realise you were holding on to, feeling the girth of his rock hard cock rub in on your lower belly. He's unconsciously rocking his hips back and forth, a barely there movement, slow enough not to drive him towards release but harsh enough to make you squirm harder underneath him.
"Así estás muy guapa" he whispers in between rushed licks and kisses across your chest, when he parts his mouth from your soft skin, before diving right back in as if you'll disappear. Exhales laboured, words breathy and deep, he confesses;
"Me pones tan cachondo.", his nostrils flare as he takes your syrup coated breast in his mouth, one hand gripping your waist, the other drifting down. "I wanna be inside you." 
"Please - I've been - ah", he returns to your neck unexpectedly, after having finally licked you clean. "I've been trying to tell you -"
He ends the protest with a hungry kiss, messy and sloppy. His tongue is in your mouth quickly enough, taking you by surprise while his hand works his boxers down his thighs. By now, his cock is twitching in need, precum running down the shaft. 
He shuffles away from you in order to give you enough space to curl your sore legs around his waist, before you feel a broad hand splayed out on your back.
You can barely register his intentions as he flips you both, placing you on his lap and presenting you with his raging erection, propped on your stomach.
You automatically place your hands on his firm chest, feeling up his pecs. He leans forward, kissing below your ear.
"Ride me."
translations:
Estás bien rica - You're really hot
Mira qué tetas tan bonitas - Look what pretty tits
Así estás muy guapa - You're so beautiful like this
Me pones tan cachondo - You make me so horny
a/n: as always, correct my spanish if you notice any mistakes<3
edit: yes i re-uploaded cause apparently i got shadowbanned and i hope it's fixed now
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sugurusbabygirl · 4 months
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their favorite position
characters aged up obvi
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Dabi:
Spooning
Sure, he's got commitment issues, but that isn't why it's his favorite. He's usually too tired to have any fun with you by the time he comes home, so the only time he really has with you is in the mornings. Waking up with you in his arms is the best way to start his day. Well....second best, only to rocking his hips into yours while he gently kisses the back of your neck. Clinging onto your hips with a sleepy yet firm grip, his soft panting tickling the shell of your ear.
"Mmm, had a dream about you. S'technically your fault I woke up so hard." "Gonna give me something to think about while I'm gone?" "F-fuck, how're you so tight in the mornings?"
Izuki:
Cowgirl
A step above missionary in his book. He loves the intimacy of being able to press his forehead to yours and watch every twist and twitch of your pretty little face. But having you on top is truly something else. He's smiling like an idiot, watching you try to bounce through the ache in your tired muscles. When you slow down, or show any signs of exhaustion, he'll grab your hips and do all the work for you.
"I got you, baby, just-ngh-just keep your eyes on me, okay?" "So good....feels so.....oh my god." "Hey, open those pretty eyes, c'mon. That's it, so good for me."
Katsuki:
Doggy
Mans got rage issues. After a long hard day of work, he's bound to need to take it out (consensually) on someone. And that someone always ends up being you, bent over the kitchen counter, bathroom sink, mattress, doesn't matter to him. He grips your hair in one hand with the other clinging tightly to your breast, pounding into you until you're reduced to pathetic cries and choked whimpers.
"No, no, sweetheart, you're gonna stay right there 'till I'm done with you." "Y'wanted to help me relax, right? Be a good girl and take it, then." "Shit, feels good, right? Knew you liked it like this-ah fuck!"
Keigo:
Missionary
....but with your legs bent over his shoulders. Eye contact is everything to him, so you better keep them open. He takes it nice and slow, savoring the look on your face, your soft moans, your scratches on his back. He's teasing you, knowing you want him to go faster. But your pleas fall on deaf ears, getting nothing but a sly smile and a hand snaking down between you two to rub tiny circles on your clit.
"See, I knew you could be louder, baby girl." "Feels so good, takin' me this deep, holy shit." "Ngh-fuck, shh, shh, you can take it, baby c'mon."
Aizawa:
Ballet Dancer
Otherwise known as 'fucking you against the wall the minute he gets home'. He doesn't even take a second to take his hero suit off completely. Your face is the first thing he wants to see when he comes home.....and your tight cunt squeezing around him is the first thing he wants to feel. It's fast and rough, don't misunderstand, but his hands caressing your cheeks, getting tangled in your hair, soft kisses pressed to your neck.....makes it feel almost romantic.
"Missed you so much today, love. Couldn't get you off my mind." "Aw, your legs are tired? Poor baby, I'll help you. Better? Good, hold on tighter, love." "Fuck.....c'mon you know you can scratch harder than that. Ah! Yeah....keep going...."
masterlist <3
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luvyeni · 8 months
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❛AFTER-PARTY❜ (h. jisung )
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p. rockstar!jisung x fem!reader w. 1.5k
warnings? strangers to potential lovers , oral (m. receiving) , cumming on tits , unprotected sex , riding , handjob
— 𖦹 ( jisung had his eyes set on you ) !
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jisungs eyes scanned the room , landing on you for like the 9th time , he'd been watching you ever since he spotted you in your crowd at his show , you had attended with your friend who was currently "dating" one of his members.
"hyunjin said that she is single , doesn't go out much." lee know sat next to her. "don't you like them like that?" han rolled his eyes. "why are you telling me this?" his eyes never leaving you. "because you've been staring at her for the past hour , just go talk to her." the older boy said. "before someone else does."
listening to his friend , he made his way over to you , you were sitting on the couch , drink in your , ready to go home. "hello." he said , you looked up from your drink , eyes widening. "oh hi." you waved. "han , right?" he loved the way you said his name. "that's my stage name , everyone else calls me jisung." you nodded. "well hi jisung."
he was cute , his long wavy hair framing his face nicely , you weren't that familiar with the band , only what your friend told you , but he was definitely working his way to being your favorite member. "can i sit down?" you nodded , moving over patting the seat next to you. "here." he sat down next to you , his leg pressed against yours. "thank you."
"so you know my name , what's yours?" he was cheeky , it made you smile. "(name)." you responded. "cute name , did you enjoy the show (name)?" you nodded. "yes i did you guys are super talented , i didn't know much about your group , but i'll make sure to look further into you guys."
"well i hope i'll be your favorite." he said. "i don't want to lose such a pretty fan to any of the other fan." your face heated up , but you still decided to play along. "i don't know seungmin is pretty cute too , his voice is amazing." he pouted. "im kidding." your laugh was like a new song stuck in his head. "we'll see." you said. "i'll take it."
the night went on , and you and jisung got closer , literally, the more you talk , the closer you got. you drank the rest of your drink , sitting the cup down. "ah , do you want me to get you another one?" you shook your head. "im almost certain my friend is going home with your band member , and i have to get in a cab alone , i'd rather not be drunk."
he didn't want you to go , he never took girls home , opting to be alone , taking care of himself — but he can't help it , you were beautiful , and you actually were interesting , you loved to stay home and watch movies , everything he liked.
and he couldn't even kid himself , your body was a dream , he prayed to meet a girl like you — your plus thighs , the tight miniskirt extenuating them , your boobs which he couldn't keep his eyes off since he saw you at the show were basically on display , being held by the shirt barely covered anything , your side boob protruding from the shirt — you were his dream girl.
"what if don't go home." he said. "what if you come with me?" you quirked your eyebrow up. "you trying to take me home jisung?" he smirked , the drink giving him a boost of confidence. "it's all up to you princess."
you didn't even bother telling your friend , she was safe with hyunjin , you and jisung making your exit. the cab ride to jisungs apartment was nothing but you sensational touching , and flirty comments in each others ear.
by time you make it to his elevator his arms are wrapping around your waist silently , you both get on the elevator and make it to his apartment , he opens the door , letting you walk in , and take a look. "you have a nice apartment." you took your heels off , sighing in delight when your feet hit the ground. "thank you." he closed the door , following behind you. "i don't normally bring girls home."
"why?" you questioned. "you're a handsome man , you mean to tell me girls aren't throwing themselves at you?" he laughed. "of course they are." it was your turn to laugh. "but i'd rather not stress about it knowing i'd probably never see again." you turned around , facing him confused. "but you invited me here?"
"yeah i did." he smirked. "you plan on seeing me again." he hummed. "depending on how this night goes , i plan on seeing you many times." his confidence was definitely a turn on for you , you chuckled , rubbing your neck where the string dug into your skin in pain. "stupid shirt."
he wrapped his arms around your waist. "does it hurt?" he toyed with the string. "s-so much." you breathed , his lips came up to your cheek right to your ear whispering , pulling at the string. "then take it off." he grabbed your jaw , pulling you into a passionate kiss.
your lips moved perfectly in sync , he took the grabber the other string , pulling at it , stepping back , letting your shirt fall to the floor , your boobs falling their natural state. "fu-fuck." he groaned , cock twitching in his jeans. "so fucking pretty."
you grabbed his hand , guiding him to his couch , pushing him down on the couch , spreading his legs , slotting your body into between them. "you look so pretty in between my legs like that." he caressed your face. "gonna suck my cock like a good girl?" you nodded , batting your eyelashes. "then take it out princess."
you got straight to work , undoing his jeans , pulling them down to his ankles , kissing his clothed cock. "sh-shit , no teasing baby , take it out." his demanding voice made you clench your thighs.
you pulled his cock out , his tip bright red. "you're so big." you kissed his tip , precum sticking to your lips. "yeah? but you can it , i know you can." you stroked his cock , bringing your lips to his mushroom head sucking on it. "oh fuck , there you go." he sighed. "suck my cock like a good girl."
you took him all the way in your , pulling out a long whine from his pouty lips. "your mouth feels so good." he grabbed the back of your head , guiding you up and down his shaft. "fu-fuck im gonna cum , wanna cum on your tits." he groaned. "fuck please let me cum on your tits."
you pulled off his cock , spit trailing behind as you took him back into your hand , stroking him. "wanna cover my tits in your cum." you looked so hot , lips swollen and red. "cum for me sungie." the way you called him that in that tone , sent him into overdrive , he groaned , cumming all over your tits , some getting on your chin , you gasp. "you came so much."
he had a lazy smirk on his face as he caught his breath , watching his cum drip from your chin to your tits , his cock hardening against , twitching against his stomach. "fuck get up here." he helped you off the floor , stripping you of your skirt and underwear. "want you to ride my cock."
he grabbed the base of his cock , letting you climb into his lap , his tip pressed against your hole. "wanna see your tits bounce while you're bouncing on my cock." you both moaned out as you sunk down on his cock. "fuck you're pussy is tight." you sat all the way down on him , he slapped your ass , grabbing the flesh. "come on , bounce on my cock."
he threw his head back against the couch , groaning as you moved up and down , his cock stretching you out. "god damn , you're so fucking good at this." he said. "fucking yourself on my cock like that."
"fu-fuck jisung." you moaned , your hands on his shoulders as you moved up and down. "you feel so good." he slapped your ass , making you jump forward. "faster bun , fuck yourself faster." you moved faster , moaning even louder. "sh-shit princess , gonna cum." he panted. "me too."
he reached in between your bodies rubbing your clit. "fuck jisung m'gonna cum!" you scream. "fuck im cumming!" you cursed , cumming around his cock. "sh-shit baby you gotta get off." he felt his orgasm approaching. "fuck." he sighed , as you climbed off his cock , sitting in his lap , stroking his cock until he came into your hand. "shit."
you brought your fingers to your mouth , licking the cum off. "fuck baby you're nasty." he grabbed your jaw , smashing his lips against yours.
you both sat there for a few minutes before getting up to shower together , spending another hour in there because jisung initiated round two , before you actually got clean.
"our tour ended yesterday , so i'll be home for a while." he spoke up , a anime playing on the tv. "huh?" you said. "i want to see you again." he said. "we don't have to go out or anything , we can have a home date or something." you nodded , kissing his cheek.
"sure , lets do it."
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©️LUVYENI
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kaizynofsickness · 1 month
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ITADORI THOUGHTS
Warnings: Spanking, worship, thigh riding, fondling and grabbing, semi-public sex.
All my praise girlies, this is for you
Authors notes: Bestie, I know you're masterbating to this
(⁠◕⁠ᴗ⁠◕⁠✿⁠) "Your ass is just so... Perfect"
(⁠◕⁠ᴗ⁠◕⁠✿⁠) how many times have Itadori told you that? How he loves the way it looks when you walk, when you lay down and play games, wear swimming suits. And, oh no, when you dare to wear a skirt near him, all dolled up and pretty. He swears his hand slipped under your panties and on your ass.
(⁠◕⁠ᴗ⁠◕⁠✿⁠) we all know he just loves a plump ass, not like your personality isn't enough, but a thick backside is always a welcomed surprise. He never will get tired of playfully smacking your ass in public, always resting his hands on them and watching as you dress. "Ah, but babe... That skirt doesn't go well with the shirt, try another one." Itadori will say like he is some fashion expert and hand you a mini skirt.
(⁠◕⁠ᴗ⁠◕⁠✿⁠) behind doors is a nightmare. Your ass can never get a break before his hands slam down and his hips roll against yours, the soft flesh turning red from all the pain and hits. He loves the way you whimper when he slams his raging cock into you so hard... The way you ass turns a cute shade of red. He won't ever get enough.
(⁠◕⁠ᴗ⁠◕⁠✿⁠) he can't help but feel down your naked body after a shower. He gives you many kisses down your neck and around your perfect breast before attaching you on his thigh. "Ride."
(⁠◕⁠ᴗ⁠◕⁠✿⁠)who are you to say no to the innocent man who just loves his girlfriends body? Loves the way her pussy is wet from grinding and needs friction, your clit unable to go without some touch. And the way you beg him with the cutest eyes and wanting him to run his dick along the walls of your sobbing cunt, making you cum on him like never before.
(⁠◕⁠ᴗ⁠◕⁠✿⁠) "C'mon, baby. Ass up, arch your back... There you go, just like that-"
(⁠◕⁠ᴗ⁠◕⁠✿⁠) "You're so fucking pretty, just let me lay these hands on you. I'll please that pussy after getting my feel of your ass."
(⁠◕⁠ᴗ⁠◕⁠✿⁠) "3...4...5... Nuh uh, m'love. Keep your hips still and hop up and down like you mean it, ride my cock right. I know you have it in ya."
(⁠◕⁠ᴗ⁠◕⁠✿⁠) "pretty cunt looks even better from behind... Might record so you could see."
(⁠◕⁠ᴗ⁠◕⁠✿⁠) "How many times must I tell you? I don't like you wearing panties around me. It's such a task to take off when you bend over!"
(⁠◕⁠ᴗ⁠◕⁠✿⁠) Itadori won't stop until he sees tears. Even then, he'll kiss them away while your body is jerking and bouncing up and off his shaft so many times until his seed is overflowing everywhere and he has to refill your other holes.
(⁠◕⁠ᴗ⁠◕⁠✿⁠) "Cant keep my hands off of you." Itadori spoke softly while he pinned you to the back way of your favorite clothing store. His hands traveled your body and memorized it like the back of his hand and found your ass easily, even in such a dark shade. "I just can't help but watch as those skirts hug your thighs and that precious ass, baby..." The more Itadori whispers his naughty dreams in your ears, the more your hot core soaks with anticipation. You look at him like you were disappointed, not trying to influence him. "Wait f'me when we get home..." You try to pry his needy hands away, but they already made quick work with your belt. "No waiting, baby. I can only get my cock from twitching by shoving it in ya, we both know that."
(⁠◕⁠ᴗ⁠◕⁠✿⁠) You can see when he whips out his greedy erection and see the tip a swollen pink, leaking puddles of precum down his hand as he lazily strokes himself to spread it as lube. But you're wet enough...
(⁠◕⁠ᴗ⁠◕⁠✿⁠) Doesn't take long for him to bend you over til you are almost touching your toes and hump you full of dick from the back, spanking your ass with his rough hands, his other hand rubbing nean circles on your clit. "M'pretty girl... I promise to care to your tender ass later, hm? Just let that wet hole tender to my dick, promise?" He whispers to you to keep quiet so no one will notice the two horny in love people behind banging like no tomorrow. But the sounds of his balls hitting your ass deep with wet 'pats, pats' is enough for everyone to know just what is happening.
(⁠◕⁠ᴗ⁠◕⁠✿⁠) He always was a sucker for plump asses. But yours is something he can keep his mind, and hands, off of. And he'll ever, because the hand prints and pinches all over your ass says that it belongs to him well enough.
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bigfatbimbo · 2 months
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Hi, I just want to say your writing is amazing! Like I myself personally am a switch but your Dom fics fill me up with so much goodness it keeps me existing. (Also you've now converted me to a Vox simo as well how dare)
I do have a small request if you don't mind ofc. I'd love to see some sub!Lucifer and with one of the ideas with his shapeshifting boy cunt.
Perhaps he off handedly mentions he can change his sex if he wants and reader takes him up on the offer?
No pressure if you don't do this request! Please take care of yourself first and all the wonderful things
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a/n — I love your profile pic! Also this shit is so hot to me but… unless you frequent this blog. I genuinely don’t know who this is for. Lowkey in my flop era.
warnings — boycunt, dom reader, sub Lucifer, oral sex, implied afab reader, use of a strap, aggressive fingering
summary — Lucifer alerts the reader that with his shapeshifting powers, he can also shapeshift his sex. This leads to the reader suggesting a fun night of toying with his pussy.
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“I’m sorry, you can what?” You had asked in utter disbelief. 
“Change sex,” Lucifer said, far too nonchalantly, “Wait, you didn’t pick up on that? With the whole shapeshifting thing—”
He waves his hand around as if to jog your memory. 
“I mean, no, I did not pick up on that. It’s not exactly a common practice, Luci,” You laugh in genuine shock, and utter arousal at the idea.
“Well, what can I say?” Lucifer rubbed his chin as if he was thinking, before turning to you with a proud smile, “I’m a man of many talents.”
“You got that right,” You say, “So, we’re trying this out then tonight, right?”
He pauses, rubbing his neck, “I don’t know, it’s really been a minute since—“
“Come on, Luci, it’ll be fun,” you smile, “And very interesting. Oh, and hot, by the way.”
He pauses, considering the idea.
“You know, what the hell? Only if you really want to test it out, sweetie,” he chirps.
Oh, you really did. 
Later that night, after what felt like an agonizingly long day, it doesn’t take long for you to pull him aside from the hotel, into your shared bedroom. You kiss each other hungrily, not tearing into his clothes yet, but instead giving your attention to his lips and jawline.
He wraps his arms around your neck as you hoist him up and sit him down on the bed. Finally, then you start to unbutton his shirt.
He scoots back further on the bed, unclothed on the top half of his body and legs slightly open, inviting you.
You don’t hesitate to crawl towards him, fingers lightly grazing the area on his thighs closest to his crotch, before finally unbuttoning his pants.
You’re slow with your movements though, taking it one moment at a time, kissing him gently as you pull his pants down.
He catches your hand right before you tug down his boxer, “Oh, and darling. Don’t hold back.”
You smile slightly before feeling down the crotch of his underwear, making him suck in breath, “Wouldn’t dream of it, baby.”
The bottom of his boxers are damp, you rub your fingers against the patch, “Wet already? I haven’t even done anything.” He hissed slightly at your teasing.
“A-ah, hurry up then,” he adds quickly, “Please.” 
You pull the waistband down, and sit back to look at what you’re dealing with.
You can’t help but gasp when you see his wet pussy, open and waiting for you. 
“Something wrong?” Lucifer sits up slightly, brows furrowing.
“You’re beautiful,” you say softly, meeting his eyes only for him to turn away.
Before he could give you a response, your fingers tease the outside of his cunt, making him softly whine in anticipation.
You make a show of bringing your fingers up to your lips and licking them slowly. Finally, bringing one down and easing it into Lucifer’s already glistening pussy.
“Oh god,” he whimpers, squirming slightly. You shush him and move your hand gently, swirling it around and relaxing him into it.
It doesn’t take long for you to tease his entrance with a second finger, looking at him first for reassurance.
When you get a shaky nod, you plunge your second finger in, stretching him out and making him whine.
Another finger is added, and Lucifer squirms restlessly, letting out breathy whines and you work your fingers in him, moving faster and faster than before.
“Oh fuck,” He moans, squeezing his eyes shut, “More, dammit, I need more. Please.”
He wasn’t fully gone, but if you kept going at the pace you were going at he would be soon. Unfortunately, you were running out of fingers.
You kept going for another few more moments, movements becoming more and more aggressive because, Lucifer couldn’t help but beg for it to be ‘harder’ or ‘faster.’
“Deeper, oh my god. Deeper, please,” he pleads, voice getting louder, surely carrying over from a few hallways.
Instead of immediately obliging, you pull your hand out of his pussy completely. He whines and practically tears up at the emptiness. 
“Patience, Luci. I won’t just leave you high and dry, don’t worry.” Well, maybe high and dry wasn’t the best analogy. 
You quickly reach over to the bedside table and open a drawer, pulling out your strap and getting situated.
Lucifer watches and whines with every movement you make, becoming more desperate the more he waits.
Finally you lean down to his legs, and kiss up his thighs. You suck at the soft skin on the upper hidden parts, drawing out whimpers from him.
“Please,” he whispers.
“Please, what?”
“Please, fuck me,” he whimpers and throws his head back into the pillow, arching his back when you lick up his hickeys, and almost make it to his cunt, before pulling away.
“All in good time, sweetheart,” you abruptly throw his legs over your shoulders and plunge into his tight cunt.
He lets out a loud moan and arches his back, hands coming up to his hair. You lap up his pussy hungrily and it doesn’t take long for him to fully wrap his legs around your head, pushing you in deeper.
You suck his swollen, soaking clit, eliciting excited whines from the other side of the bed. Subconsciously, your nails dig into to skin of his already bruised thighs while you eagerly eat him out.
He was babbling anything he could think of, and loudly at that, “More, more, darling. Don’t stop!”
You wouldn’t dare. Or at least not right now, your tongue buried deeply in him, sucking at his puffy clit, soaking him up completely.
Lucifer writhes beneath you, moaning and thrashing around rapidly. Although you don’t notice, his wings sprout out, making terribly flapping motions and causing a large breeze of him in the room.
You’re aware of this, and yet, you don’t pull away, yet. You wanted to keep tasting him, lick him dry, milk him for all he’s worth. 
He moaned wildly, practically wailing from the way your tongue continuously slammed against his clit.
“Close. Fuck, honey, i’m so close,” He cries, tearing boiling over his eyes and spilling through his fluttering lashes.
Finally, you pull away from him. He looks up at you in disbelief. He was Absolutely horrified at your neglect towards his pussy, if only for seconds. 
You only smile and lick your lips, positioning yourself to finally use the strap Lucifer had long forgotten about.
“Oh my god, finally. Yes please—“ 
You cut him off by thrusting into him in one slick motion, the cum coating his pulsing pussy making it easy. 
He yelps and whines, leaning up to you and wrapping his arms around your neck once again. You position him on your lap momentarily, letting his legs wrap around your torso.
Then you lean him back on the mattress, legs still slinked around your middle. You lean into his neck while you thrust into him at a rough pace. 
“Oh my, nngh, deeper. God, deeper,” Lucifer babbled incoherently.
You respond in gently shushes and praise, “That’s right sweetie, taking it so well. Your pretty pussy’s taking me so well, baby.” 
He whines, growling loudly, wings once again flapping rapidly and tossing objects every way off of nightstands. His eyes are bright red, but not noticeable when paired with how close his eyelids are to fluttering shut. 
Tears stain his pretty cheeks and he cries out for more, and you deliver. You go thrust quickly and aggressively, just as requested.
“My pretty boy. My princess. My sweet baby,” you coo sweet nothings into his ear while you fuck him roughly, breath becoming ragged from the friction and the restless motions.
His claws dig into your back and carve down it, “Oh, ‘m so close, so close. Nngh—“ 
You slam yourself further into his pussy, almost animalistically, evoking demonic and wild noises from Lucifer. You were sure people from down the street of the hotel could hear him, and you were glad.
Finally, he let out one final, deafeningly loud moan and released all over your strap. He clung onto you for long moments, catching his breath.
At last, he pulled back, looking at you starry eyed and lying back down on the mattress.
“We should…” he sighs dreamily, “…do that more often.
“Oh, honey,” you pull out but then drag your hand from his stomach to his hips, nearing his crotch. “What makes you think we’re done?”
He hisses in a breath, “Oh, wait too— too much. I can’t—“ 
“What is it you said to me earlier?” You tease his clit softly with your pointer finger, “You remember don’t you?”
He hesitates, blush rising as he looks at you.
“Don’t hold back.” 
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a/n — I really hope this doesn’t flop guys 😰 lately I haven’t been doing as swell as usual, I dunno. 🤷‍♀️
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anqelbean · 1 year
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I need a bingqiu fic where everyone reverse transmigrates into the modern world but only Binghe and Mobei Jun remember their old world cause now THEY have the system and their task is simple: find their husbands and make them fall in love with them again.
Seems easy right? They've done it once already.
WRONG.
Because, when Binghe finds Shen Qingqiu, he's heartbroken to find that his Shizun's personality is almost the same as before his qi deviation in their previous life, and has absolutely no interest in him.
He also finds out that for some reason in this life Shen Qingqiu has a younger brother, Shen Yuan.
Shen Yuan is sweet and kind and pretty and gentle and funny and pretty. He's also closer in age to Binghe. Slowly Binghe starts to feel a devastating guilt every time he looks at him. He doesn't know where this man was in their previous life, but in this one. In this one Binghe is pretty sure he's falling in love with him.
He feels guilty because it feels like betraying his Shizun, his husband. He feels like the only reason he's in love with Shen Yuan is because he reminds him of his husband, but that's not fair to Shen Yuan either. It's like he's just replacing one brother for the other.
But no matter how much he tries he can't get Shen Yuan out of his mind.
Then his Shizun, Shen Qingqiu, starts dating Yue Qingyuan and Binghe's confused more than anything. He doesn't understand why he doesn't feel heartbroken. But when the System doesn't take away any points for this, he finally asks it "Hey, System." "Yes?" "Do you know why Shizun is acting as such?" "What do you mean? We've detected no abnormal behaviour from Shen Yuan." "No, not Shen Yuan, Shen Jiu— WAIT, WAIT, SHEN YUAN?????"
Then he finds out, this whole time, he's been going after the WRONG. GUY.
Shen Yuan, on the other hand is heartbroken.
Despite acting like he's straight his whole life (and very much believing it himself), there was just something that stabbed him in the chest every time he looked at Luo Binghe playfully flirting with his ge (while getting rejected every. Fucking. Time. Shen Yuan really doesn't know if his ge doesn't know the hottest guy on the planet is flirting with him, or if he's being an idiot and rejecting him).
He's gotten to know the guy quite well, and they have become quick friends. They talk, they text and they hang out, all the time. He finds that Binghe is an amazing cook (seriously, HOW can food be so good?). He also loves to read, and they proceed to rant about the books they've both read. He's also a huge cry baby. (Shen Yuan thinks it's cute)
And sometimes.
Sometimes he'll just look at Shen Yuan with so much, well, fondness. It's in those moments that Shen Yuan let's himself dream that maybe, maybe, this boy could be his.
Sometimes he'll say something that cannot be categorized as anything but shameless flirting.
Like the first time he made Shen Yuan congee. "This is the best thing I've ever had. Holy shit." "Ah, you like it that much? Alright then. I'll make it for you all the time, with variations." Then he proceeded to wink. WINK. (Shen Yuan did not blush. He did not. He's straight. It's just the halo-like light that surrounds Luo Binghe is enough to charm sven a straight man. Like him. Cause he's straight. Definitely.)
When his ge starts dating Yue Qingyuan. He expects Binghe to look heartbroken, but. He doesn't. He acts like nothing is wrong. Absolutely nothing is out of place.
Except he smiles at Shen Yuan with that fond look way more often. He flirts way more often. He cooks for him way more often.
Shen Yuan doesn't know how to feel about that.
Has this guy been some kind of playboy this whole fucking time? And when one target is no longer available, he just moves on? To his BROTHER? Yeah, no, scratch that, he knows exactly how he feels.
He's furious.
(Binghe has no idea why Shen Yuan seems so angry with him. He just wants to kiss his husband. Why must this always happen when they reunite?)
Mobei Jun on the other hand is having a, uhh, sorta better time. He's found Shang Qinghua. Shang Qinghua is the Shang Qinghua he knows, flighty, cowardly and cute. But, the thing is. Qinghua's absolutely terrified of him.
Every time he pops up next to him, he squeals and jolts so bad that one time he slammed into a door.
But he still blushes at their proximity. Still has the same taste in trashy novels. Still writes. Still loves having his hair ruffled.
They get together within 2 months. The system congratulates him 3 times.
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lilbitdepressed27 · 11 days
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Tara Carpenter/Fem!Reader She’s the Man AU
Summary: inspired by she’s the man, with a few changes
Warnings: Chad’s a bit of a jerk but nothing else really
WC: 9.3k
Author’s Note: sorry for any mistakes. Hope y’all enjoy:)
"What?!"
"Sorry girls but I can't really do anything about it."
"But we win more games than the boys do!!"
"Yea what the fuck why aren't they the ones getting cut."
"What?! No you don't, you guys just face other girls that don't know how to play."
You couldn't believe what you were hearing. You couldn't believe you dated him. To be fair you had been sexually confused for a long time. Battling your inner self to be true to who you were. Frankie was your ex boyfriend and you honestly wanted to slap yourself every time you looked back at that relationship. You honestly didn't know what you were thinking.
"Oh really you guys haven't won a game since like what freshman year?" You backfired. "Can't even win a game against the schools rivals, Woodsboro Panthers." The boys in front of you glared at you knowing that it was always a touchy subject. The team had always been sore losers.
"I'm sorry girls but we have to practice unlike some people." The couch and the boys laughed as they walked away.
The girls team was left standing on the field feeling a mix of emotions. You were beyond pissed and there was absolutely nothing you could do.
*
You had been walking home, your music blasting in your ears. You had been extremely bummed out, your dream had always been to play soccer in the big leagues. Wanting nothing more than to play with your idols. Couldn't really do that if your school doesn't have a girls team. You would have to transfer to another school that does have one but you'd doubt that your parents would let you. The closest school would be Woodsboros, but they also didn't have a girls team.
The sudden pull of your jacket had you stumbling back. "Ah what the hell!" You turned around taking off your headphones. Only to be faced with your brothers girlfriend.
"Anthony-Oh ew it's you."
"What do you want Sherrie."
"Where's your brother. When you see him tell him to call me."
"What's the number, 1-800-BIYATCH." You laughed to yourself.
"Whatever. Just tell him."
You laughed as she walked away and went into the house.
*
"Wait what do you mean you're leaving?" Your eyes followed your twin brother (although you didn't really look that much the same, there was similarities but you were a bit taller then he was. And the much better looking twin) he was moving back and forth from his bag and his closet.
"The band got booked to perform in fucking London. Can you believe that?"
"London?  As in London England? Wait, what about school. Don't you start next week?" You were sat on his bed strumming his acoustic guitar.
"Oh right, I wanted to ask if you can cover for me. You know, use that mom voice of yours and I don't know  make a call or something." He closed his bag and packed one of his many guitars. Once he was finished he looked at you with a smile.
"Wait, what about mom and dad?"
"One of the ups of having divorced parents. Mom thinks I'm with dad. Dad thinks I'm with mom. And they both hate each other too much to call each other." Throwing two of his bags out window, followed by his guitar.
"And what about your girlfriend? I don't even know why you date her."
"Cause she's hot, it's a guy thing. Well, I'll see you in like two months, maybe more." Anthony smiled and left through the window.
"Anthony!"
"Oh were you talking with your brother?" The sudden voice of your mother startled you.
"Uh yea, on the phone. What the hell is that?" You used the horrendous dress that your mom was carrying as a way out. If clearly worked when your mom beamed down at you.
"It's your dress. For the-Ugh mom." You groaned, knowing what she was going to go on about. "I said I'm not doing it. There's no way I'm putting on a dress. Literally the last time I wore one was when I was two. I'm not doing it." Standing up and putting your brother's guitar away.
"I don't know even know why I keep trying." She said as she walked away. You rolled your eyes and stood up. Looking into the mirror. Your brothers picture to the side. You picked it up and held it up. You never understood how you were related to him. Let alone a twin. You truly never looked alike. You were a bit taller than he was. And honestly stronger as well.
"Well if you can't beat them. Join them."
**
"Ha. You're funny." The hairdresser laughed. Kirby shook her head as she continued to cut her clients hair. Looking back at you, only to stop laughing. "Oh you're not kidding. Wait you're serious."
"Yea come on Kirb, I have a point to make. And I can't do it if you don't help me. Quinn, Anika back me up." You looked back at your best friends.
"Yea come on Kirby. The coach and the whole school in general think that girls can't do half of the things boys can do. They kept the stupid boys team and they don't even win!" Quinn spoke, she was still heated on the matter. Although she didn't have the same dreams as you, she still wanted to support you.
"Yea Kirby, they even got new uniforms and lockers for the boys team. A losing team might I add again." Anika voiced from your side.
"Come on Kirby please." The three of you spoke simultaneously.
The elderly client butting in. "Yea come on Kirby."
With a laugh Kirby laughed and nodded. "Fine."
*
"Damn. You make one fine ass man." Quinn whistled when you stepped out. You so badly wanted to scratch your head. The wig was something you'd have to get used to.
"Shut up. Do I really look like a man?"
"Yea one hot ass man." Anika joked as she stood next to you, reaching up to fix your wig. Quinn laughed from her seat as she ate her popcorn.
"Okay. Now we got the walk. The talk. Tomorrow you start. Remember be confident. You got this. We got all the paper work ready, oh and also. Remember to respond to the name Anthony. Anika literally tried to get your attention using your brothers name, and you didn't listen. Cause you have to get used to it." Kirby said as she got some of the popcorn from Quinn.
"Okay. I got this. I got this."
**
"I don't got this. Take me back. This was a stupid idea. Don't you ever let me come up with any more ridiculous ideas ever again. I can't believe you actually listened to me. You never listen. I can't believe I came this far. Well it's far enough. Take me back-Y/n stop!"
"Relax. You got this, now suck it up and get your shit together." Kirby handed you your bags and pushed you towards the entrance of the school.
You gulped and took a deep breath in trying to calm your nerves. With a look of encouragement from Kirby you made your way into the school.
*
Going into the boy side of the dorm rooms had been everything you expected and more. It was literally your worst nightmare come to life. The smell alone was enough for you to want to turn on your heels and leave. A mixture of body odor and a tone of axe spray. But you had to do this. You now had a point to make and you were going to make it.
You've never moved so fast to make it to your dorm. Slamming the door shut once, the relief of being in the safety of your room was washed away when you felt eyes on you. You were quick to straighten up and eyes wide as you looked at the three boys.
Clearing your throat, remembering to deepen your voice. "What up. Y'all must be my roommates." Nervously fumbling with your keys.
"Uh na I'm your roommate Chad. This is Ethan and that's Wes. They live next door."
You nodded as you put your bags down. Trying to swallow the anxiety that you felt coming up your throat.
"Yo what's your name?"
You turned around to look who was talking. Wes sat on the window seat playing with a ball.
"Anthony Y/ln, so you play the beautiful game bruhs, bros? Brothers?" You had tried to remember how boys talk but at the moment your mind was going blank.
"Yea, Ethan midfield and Wes plays defense and I'm a striker. What about you?"
"Center Midfield."
You cleared your throat as you got unpacked your bag. Taking out your boots, only remembering the tampons you shoved into the boot when Chad pointed them out.
"Dude why do you have tampons?!"
"Uh. I get really bad nose bleeds?"
After the horrifying and embarrassing display of you shoving a tampon up your nose. You were left with a big sense of regret. As the boys laughed and mocked you.
*
So far it's been alright.
That's a big fat lie. So far it's been hell. Things are horrible. The first try outs were today and man. You'd think it had been your first time playing. You had always thought you were great at soccer. It was a sport you loved. You had played it for the longest time. Now you wouldn't go and say you were horrible but you had a lot to learn. Especially since you made it on to the second string. That had been disappointing.
"Good job boys. Nice work, for the second strings don't feel discouraged. You are just as much on this team as the first stringers. Now go hit the shower. I'll see you guys tomorrow." Coach Loomis spoke before leaving to his office.
Showers?!
Crap! How could I forget about the freaking showers?!
You tried to think of any possible reason why you wouldn't be able to. You'd didn't really want to see anyone naked. Let alone a bunch of immature boys. But the closer you got to the boys locker the more you were starting to panic.
"Y/LN! Principal Riley wants to talk to you. So get a move on." Coach yelled from his office.
You had never felt so much relief like you did this moment. Never moving  so fast to get out of a room before.
*
The talk with the principal had been one of the weirdest and most awkward talks you had ever been in. As you walked out of the office you felt your body collide with a smaller body.
"Oh my god I'm so sorry. Are you alright?" The sudden action causing your voice to come out normal before you could even realize. Moving to help pick up the books the shorter girl dropped.
"It's okay."
You looked up, only for your breath to hitch in your throat. The girl in front of you was so, beautiful. Completely gorgeous. The faint freckles that littered her face, made you want to count every single one. Her dark brown eyes, were so mesmerizing that you could get lost in that pool of dark chocolate. Her small smile had your heart hammering in your chest. The dimples that appeared had to be the cutest things you had ever seen.
"Uh here's your books." You cleared your throat deepening your voice, the smile that she directed your way was enough for you to almost go weak to the knees.
"Thanks. You're the new transfer student, right? I'm Tara."
Tara. What a beautiful name. You returned the smile, "Y/-Uh Anthony. It's nice to meet you Tara." You held out your hand for her to shake, at the sound of her giggle, your smile grew just a tad bit. But the moment her soft, small, warm hand was in yours it was like your hand was made to hold hers. At the sight of her blushing cheeks, you pulled your hand away, clearing your throat.
"Well it was nice to meet ya Tara. I have to go and do some, guy stuff. Uh I'll see you around." With a nod you were quick to walk away. Part of you hoping you'd run into the Tara again.
*
"Dude this is not working. Who knew making friends as a dude could be so hard. Not to mention that I'm starting to smell. Kirby how could I forget about the showers. My roommate is a bit of jackass and-Alright take it easy. I can help you with the making friends situation and the shower problem. Let me just get the girls I've got a plan." Kirby cut you off before hanging up, not giving you a chance to respond.
"Kirby? Hello? Ugh, I hate when she does that." You mumbled. The past two days of being a 'man' have been a little bit harder than you had expected. Your roommates along with his friends are bit of jerks and clearly didn't want to be around you.
It wasn't long till, Kirby showed up with Quinn and Anika. Who had bright smiles on their faces. You hurried to get in the car. "Oh I've miss-oh wow you stink." Quinn cut herself off, pulling away from you.
"Don't remind me. Now what's your plan?"
*
With feeling fresh and clean, you walked into the restaurant with a new found confidence. You knew at least half of the students and soccer team were in the place at the moment. It was great for Kirby's plan, 'Make friends plan'. Her own way of making friends for you was well, "the boy way". That's why she had brought Quinn and Anika.
"Fuck here comes Anthony. Spread out so it looks like we don't got room." Chad nudged Ethan to the side as they spread out in the booth. It wasn't like he hated the guy but since the tampon moment in their room. He wasn't in a rush to make friends with his roommate.
"Oh my god Anthony Y/ln! Oh my god I've missed you so much."
Chad was pulled from his conversation with Ethan to see a red haired girl. She was hot.
"Quinn. Hey baby, how you doing?"
Chad couldn't understand how someone like Anthony could have girl like this one. The guy was weird. He acted completely strange. But here he was with this hot girl. Eyes widening a bit when the girl lightly kissed Anthony on the lips before leaving. He heard Ethan chocking on his soda when yet another girl, just as hot, called out to Anthony. The way this dark haired girl refused to let him go. Only leaving when Anthony slapped her butt.
"What the fuck? Did those two just talk to Anthony? Him?" Wes spoke in pure disbelief. There was no way. Seeing a hot brunette coming his way. He took his chance. "Hey there pretty lady."
"Ew. Are you talking to me?"
"I was just- Yea sure let me make it clear, girls with asses like mine don't talk to boys with faces like yours."
The two teammates shared a look, trying to hold in their laughter at the face Wes was making. The one of pure embarrassment.
"I'm looking for my boyfriend Anthony Y/ln."
The three boys jaw dropped in disbelief.
*
"Fuck it's your brothers girlfriend. Don't let her get too close or she'll recognize you." Kirby had spoken so quickly you barely had time to understand before you heard Sherries obnoxiously loud voice.
"Wait what?"
"Anthony!"
"Oh fuck uh be gone you craziest-" You felt a small sense of fear as you tried to dodge Sherries attempts to get to you. You had gone as far as using a stack of pizza boxes to cover your face. "Can't you take a hint. If I don't answer your phone calls or your texts. It could only mean one thing. We are done!"
Sherrie had acted like you expected. Leaving with scream of anger and most likely embarrassment. You were relieved on the other hand. Your cover was not blown. You heard the cheers and even felt the acceptance of your schoolmates.
"Dude that was awesome."
"You're officially my idol."
"Make room for the man."
*
Like Kirby had predicted. The plan had worked. You had the "respect" of your teammates and the school. Although you kinda felt a little bad for Sherrie. Even though she's been nothing but a bitch to you. You also didn't stink that was good. You had gotten used waking up super early in the morning. Getting the showers to yourself.
"Hey Anthony."
You turned at the sound of your brothers name. That was also something you kinda got used to. Being addressed as your brothers name and not yours.
At seeing who called for you, it had you smiling in a way you couldn't really control. "Tara hey. How are you doing?" You faced the shorter girl. She returned the smile as she looked up at you.
"I've been good. I haven't seen you around the past week. How's the school treating you." Tara had tried to see Anthony around the campus. But the campus was huge. She hasn't even got a glimpse of Anthony which was extremely disappointing.
"Oh it's been something else. I like the campus though." You looked down to what she was holding and it was stack of what you could clearly tell were heavy books. You reached for them without really realizing that you were. "Let me help you with those." You didn't really give her a chance to decline before taking most of the books.
"Thank you. But you didn't have to." Tara could feel the warmth coming from her cheeks. She could only hope that Anthony couldn't notice.
"It's okay, now what are you even studying that requires you to carry so many books." At sound of her laugh you smiled, her laugh was so sweet.
"Oh I've been transferred out of my class into another. Apparently I was too smart for that class."
"Nice, a smart girl." You teased smiling in satisfaction when you saw her blush. "No but seriously, aren't you running for class president?"
"Yes, I'm been elected to run. It's nothing." She looked away from his gaze. Her own mother had been dismissive of her achievements. She hated the feeling of being a disappointment. She's tried not to let her mother's words affect her but, it's her mother. The harsh words are bound to have an affect.
"Are you kidding? That's great, you were elected, which that alone is awesome. Don't sell yourself short. But don't worry future Ms.President. You have my vote." The smile you got in return was something you'd cherish. You hated how sad she had looked for a just a second before the look was gone.
"Thank you. That means a lot. Well this is me." Never had she felt so disappointed to arrive to her class. She had wanted to keep talking to Anthony. The way he acted around her was in a way no other boy has. He didn't treat her like she was just a piece of meat, like she was just some type of trophy he could show off to his friends. He was different from the other boys in school. "I'll see you later?" Hoping her voice didn't come off as hopeful.
"Of course. Later Ms.Future President." With a small bow you handed her books and walked away. Smiling when you heard her laugh.
*
Arriving into your biology class was something you weren't looking forward to. You hated cutting open any animals or anything that was once alive. Taking a seat as your roommate and his friends took a seat in front of you. The boys becoming your friends was also something new. Ever since that day at the pizza place your popularity had grown.
"Dude I keep forgetting to ask. But how long did you date that girl?" Chad asked as he took a seat in front of his roommate.
"Too long-Alright pick a name out of the bowl and who ever you have will be your lab partner for the rest of the year."
Taking one of the pieces of paper from the bowl you unfolded it. Smiling at the sight of the name. "Tara Carpenter." You looked up, searching for your brun-the brunette that was becoming your favorite. Eyes connecting with the beautiful chocolate eyes. Oh how you loved chocolate. Seeing the smile on her face as she looked at you. Sending a small wave.
"Dude you know Tara Carpenter? Switch with me." Chad couldn't help the small sense of jealousy at the way the girl he liked was looking at Anthony.
"Yea and no cause I said her name out loud." You gathered your things and moved to table Tara had moved to. Placing your bag on the table as you sat down. Leaning forward just bit.
"Hey Tara. I gotta be completely honest with you. The whole dissecting thing freaks me out, so I think you're gonna have to take the reins on this one." You whispered to her. Hoping no one else heard you.
"Wow I don't think any other guy would have admitted to that."
"Crap, you're right." Your eyes widen as you looked down at the paper with a cut open frog. The feeling of wanting to barf came strong.
"No no. It's okay. I got you. I'll take the lead." Tara wanted to wipe the frown on his face. It was such an adorable look but she also wanted to comfort him, so she reached for his hands, taking his hand into hers. His hands were so soft. Not like any other boy's hands she's touched. The warmth and softness of his hands made her want to hold on to them longer.
"Uh no papers from other classes on the table." A boy you e never seen before said, paper was pushed in between in your face and Tara's. Seeing the color of the paper. You quickly tried to grab it but Tara was quicker.
"Oh what's this poems?"
"Lyrics. They're hi-my my old stuff."
"You're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be. And I don't wanna go home right now."
You sighed in relief, realizing it was a song you wrote for your brother to sing. He wanted a romantic song and your were such a sucker for them.
"This is really good."
The way she was looking at you had your throat in a knot. Feeling like she could read your mind by the way she was staring intensely into your eyes.
*
As you walked out of the classroom you were pulled by the back of your shirt. "Dude what the fuck Chad!" Pulling your shirt from his grip.
"Anthony my guy. Did you tell her anything about me?"
"Who Tara? Was I supposed to?"
"Come on man. You could convince her to go out with me."
He looked so serious you couldn't help but laugh. "Dude you've been going to school together for, how long? I don't think she likes y-Come on! If you help me. I'll help you train to make first string for the rivalry game."
"Wait what? Seriously?" You were good, but apparently not good enough to make first string. And you had something to prove. You couldn't be distracted by anything. Not even a pretty brunette. It wasn't like Tara liked you.
"Okay, I'll tell her all about Chad Minks and how he's a great dude. But I won't force her."
"You're the man Anthony!" Chad cheered, this was going to work. He knew as much. He just needed someone to sweet talk him up to Tara. Then he would be the hottest guy dating the hottest girl in the school.
*
Training with Chad was fun. The more you trained with him. The more if felt like you were getting better than before. The love you had for game had always been big. Always trying to improve your self in how you play. With Chad's help you were a whole lot prepared and skilled during practices.
As for helping with Tara. It was coming along. Well the best it could without sounding pushy about the situation.
"So when can you let me read the rest of that poem?"
You were brought out of your thoughts at the sound of Tara's voice. You tried to avoid the frog that was cut open in front of you.
"Poem? What poem?" You teased, smiling when she squinted her eyes at you.
"Ugh you suck. I'm going to get you to read it to me one day. You just watch."
"Now, I heard from your friend Amber that you like someone."
"What?" Tara felt her eyes widen. She was going to kick Amber's ass when she sees her. Amber wouldn't tell him, that she liked him right? The feeling of her heart racing as she watched Anthony write down some notes before looking right at her with those soft y/ec eyes.
"Yea, is it by any chance Chad Minks? Cause I've seen what the way he looks at you. I mean I can see it."
Seeing the disbelief and was that disgust? You weren't sure. Reading people wasn't something you were really good at.
"Chad?"
"Yea."
"No."
"Yea."
"No! I mean he's good looking and all but he's just not the guy for me." Tara had tried to like Chad. He was what most girls wanted at the school. But every time she looked at him, she felt nothing. Chad was just like every other jock that has tried to get into her pants. Only wanting her for her body. She had seen how Chad was with Liv. Liv had been so in love with Chad. But the moment Chad got bored he left Liv. Liv had been left heart broken. Tara had gotten used to blocking out any guy that had tried to hit on her. Most of the guys (if not all of them) had always succeeded in making her extremely uncomfortable.
"Hmm I don't know maybe there's more to him than you think there is." You hated yourself for even bringing it up, you could tell this conversation was annoying Tara.
"So he's not just another dumb jock, who wants to get in my pants. So he could tell his friends but is too-Insecure to treat you as an equal?" You understood how she felt. It wasn't long you were also dating a dumb jock.
Tara looked at the taller boy in shock. Never had she met someone, let alone a boy, understand what she had felt. Seeing him agree had honestly left her feeling baffled.
"You know you are the first guy at this school who hasn't tried anything with me."
You felt you cheeks heat up as you cleared your throat, "Oh uh I'm not really looking for another relationship. Just got out of one that was a bit, hard I guess? You're a great friend Tara. You're actually the only person in this school I feel comfortable around."
Even if she felt a bit more that just disappointed that he only saw her as a friend. She offered him a smile. "I feel the same way about you." Her vocie coming out softer than usual. Looking into those beautiful y/ec eyes. It was enough for her to get lost in them. Even if he only saw her as a friend. She could work with that.
"Good, and just take my advice. Chad's a pretty cool dude, get to know the guy."
"I'll consider it." She was most certainly not going to. She watched as the soccer player tried to focus back on the task at hand. The cut open frog they still had to be dissected. The cute grossed out facial expression on his face was too cute for her to ignore.
"So what's that exactly?"
"Uh I think that's the spleen." A small noise of acknowledgment was all she got in response before she saw Anthony fainting and falling to his side. With a chocked laugh she was quick to check on him.
*
"I honestly thought you were joking about the dissecting thing freaking you out this bad." Tara couldn't hold back her giggles as he finally woke up. She had been worried at first. But the more she remembered the face the soccer player made, the more she couldn't help but to laugh.
"Ugh." You sat up, realizing you were now in the nurses room. You felt a little warm inside to see that Tara was sitting next your bed. Wondering if she was sitting there while you were out cold.
"How are you feeling? Down to dissect more frogs?" This time Tara couldn't help the full belly laugh.
As much as you tried to keep a straight face, a smile made its way to your face. You really liked the sound of her laugh. Her smile, the dimples you liked so much being on display. "You're so mean."
Tara brought up her hand to cover her mouth. Trying to control her laughter. "I'm sorry."
She looked utterly beautiful. The sun coming from the window shined on her like if she were an angel. All you wanted was to kis-Uh oh. No. No you couldn't be falling in love with Tara.
You couldn't.
*
"Yo! You okay? I can't believe you passed out over a cut open frog." The laugh that followed was nothing like Tara's.
"Yea whatever. But I've got you half way. She's considered going out with you." You flopped on your bed, looking up at the ceiling. Falling in love was not part of this plan. You couldn't for many reasons. One being the most obvious, YOU WERE A GIRL! For starters. You were a girl pretending to a boy, pretending to be your brother. Tara was obviously straight. And if you did show any signs of liking her, it would be misleading. You were a girl.
Tara was straight.
"Wait really? So should I go ask her out?"
"What? No!" Trying to ignore the jealousy you felt coursing through your body. "You don't want to freak her out."
"Ugh I hate the waiting game. I've been waiting for the past years. Since 6th grade. That’s five whole years. You have no idea how long I've wanted to, to date her. She's the hottest girl in the school."
You narrowed your eyebrows at your roommate. You won't deny that Chad is a great soccer player. He was outstanding on the field. And he was nice enough to help you out to make first string. But other than that you weren't really sure why he was so eager to be with someone who clearly didn't like him back.
*
"Wait what do you mean? You think he doesn't like you?"
Tara groaned into her pillow. As much as she enjoyed being with the taller soccer player. She couldn't ignore the small little voice in her head telling her that Anthony didn't like her back.
"I don't know Amber. He's not like any other boy I've ever met before. He hasn't even flirted with me. Not even once!" She chose to ignore the laugh coming from her best friend.
"What? There's no way. Every guy here has flirted with you at least once." Amber has watched for the past days how this guy had her best friend hooked with just his presence. She won't deny the guy was kinda good looking. But there was something about Anthony that was making her sexually confused? Amber was a proud lesbian. There was no denying that, but she had gone soooo long without finding any boy attractive. Not even when she was little. But now Anthony Y/Ln was a first. Now she didn't like him in that way like Tara did. But there was something about him that was familiar. She just couldn't seem to know what.
"Wait really?" Come to think about it, Amber has not seen Anthony flirt with any girl at all. Every time she saw him he it was always either during class (which he did really pay attention to) and then during the soccer practices. "Wait you don't think he's gay do you?"
That thought had never even crossed her mind. The thought of Anthony being gay had her sitting up straight to face Amber.
"What? No! There's no way-I mean, I don't know. Oh my god let it be me to fall for a guy who could possibly be gay." She groaned even louder as she covered her face with her hands. If Anthony was gay, she would have to move on. Or she could just ask. He did have those two girls at the pizza parlor. Not to mention that crazy ex. But if that were the case. Maybe he's bisexual. Or just now gave up on the girls and just wants boys now.
Ugh. It was just her luck.
*
"What's up Anthony."
You looked away from your open book. You had finally gotten away from Chad and his friends. A moment of peace away from those boys was what you desperately needed. They were rowdy and fun but you could only take so much before you wanted to pull your hair out.
"Sup Amber. How's it going?" Amber was Tara's best friend. You liked Amber. She was always putting Chad in his place when he tried to flirt with Tara. It was always a funny sight.
"Eh it's going but I gotta ask you something." She moved to sit next to Anthony.
You closed your book and looked at the shorter girl. "Sure what's up." You moved to grab your water bottle to take sip.
"Are you gay?"
The water burned as it went up your nose, you spluttered out wet coughs as you tried get your breathing back to normal. You took the napkins Amber offered you. "Jesus Amber. No I am not gay." Well you were. And as funny as it would be for these students to believe your brother Anthony was gay, you weren’t that mean of a sister.
"Really? Not even a little bit?" Amber did not feel convinced for the weirdest reason. She just couldn't put a finger on it.
"No not even a little bit. Why?" You let out a chuckle once you had your breathing under control and you were no longer chocking. Gay?
"Well can you blame a girl for asking." So he wasn't gay, Tara did have a chance. Amber couldn't help but to feel excitement. Mingling is something she was great at.
*
You hated being here, carnivals. Absolutely hated them. Clowns were literally your worst nightmare and those things were everywhere. Not only did you hate clowns. But you absolutely hated that you had to change from being you to your brother. So you opted to just staying as you for the remainder of the day.
"Wait they thought Anthony was gay?" Anika asked again once she was finished laughing.
"Anthony gay? Girl he is as straight as they come." Quinn laughed as well, the girls along with Kirby had arrived at carnival before you did. You mom had called the moment you arrived and said you were signed up for the kissing booth. Part of you had never felt so offended and angry. You were not going to be kissing no strangers. No matter the cause before hanging up.
"Any cute girls there?" Kirby nudged your shoulder as you walked around. Noticing the blush on her younger friend. "Oh so there is. What's her name?"
"Stop. There's no-Liar! Come on. Tell us." Your two best friend nudged and pleaded to know. You rolled your eyes although you were smiling.
"There is on-" You were cut off by someone bumping into your body. You were able to catch them before they fell. "Oh I'm sorry."
At the sound of the voice, the voice that sounded awfully familiar! Tara furrowed her eyebrows before looking up at the person. Only for her eyes to widen in shock. The girl standing in front of her looked exactly like Anthony. Almost like a spitting image. "Do I know you?" She couldn't help up to ask.
"Uh no. I don't think so. Sorry." You moved to walk around Tara. As much as you wanted to talk to her as you and not Anthony. You couldn't, not without blowing your cover. You were quick (but not too quick to make it weird) away.
Kirby and the girls were quick to follow you. Noticing Anika sharing a long stare with one of the girls. "Oh my god was that her!" Speaking once she was far away from the short girl.
"Would you shut up, and yes that's her." Your cheeks flushing at the teasing grins that were looking your way.
"Dude she's cute!" Quinn shook your shoulders in pure excitement.
"You should totally try to get w-No, she's straight. And I don't know if you know this but I'm a girl." You shook her head, continuing your walk only to see Chad and Frankie fighting. You were quick to run to the scuffle. Trying your best to pull the two dude's away from each other.
"Frankie stop!"
Chad turned around at the voice, opening his mouth to say something he had been momentarily distracted enough for Frankie to hit him. Making Chad stumble into you. You caught him right when the security showed up. Quinn and Anika pulling you away before you could get in trouble.
"Hey are you okay?"
You were standing to the side, after being yelled at by your mom. It wasn't even your fault but you let her yell at you. The girls had gone to get food while you waited. The sound of Tara's voice you looked towards her. She offering such cute shy smile.
"Uh yea I'm okay. Thanks for asking." You murmured, you weren't sure why you felt so shy now. Maybe it because you weren't sure if Tara would like you as Y/n and not as Anthony.
"Are you related to Anthony Y/Ln by any chance?"
"Yea he's my twin brother."
"Wow you guys are crazy alike. It's almost uncanny. How do you know Chad?" Tara couldn't get over how you looked so much like Anthony. Ever since she bumped into you earlier that day. She couldn't stop thinking about you and Anthony. She had always been comfortable with her sexuality. She had always said she was bisexual. And right now was a good example why. Anthony. He was so charming, so sweet and just so funny. Honest. You. You were honestly the most beautiful woman she's ever seen.
"Yea we get that a lot. I'm Y/n." Sticking out your hand for her to shake.
"Tara." Tara took your out stretched hand. Your hand taking hers in a gente but soft shake. She looked down at your hand, it was awfully the same as Anthony. Down to the same softness that she has grown to like.
"Damn that guy who beat up Frankie was kinda hot, wasn't that your brothers roommate." Quinn asked as she wrapped her arms around yours, interrupting whatever was happening between you and the short girl. From the corner of her she was able to see the same girl that had bumped into you looking right at you. Maybe that girl wasn't as straight as she seemed. "Hi I'm Quinn."
"Nice to meet you. I should go back to my friends. It was nice meeting you Y/n." She couldn't stop looking at you, she hoped that it wouldn't be the last time she saw you. A past of her also feeling a bit of disappointment seeing the red head being so close to you.
*
"Dude, what? What's on your face." You spluttered with your words at seeing the tampon up Chad's nose. Part of you wanted to laugh.
"Oh this? Yeah I grabbed one of your." He pointed to the tampon as he got up. "And they actually work." He took the bloody tampon out and threw it away.
"Dude what happened?"
"Well turns out the dude I fought was your sister's ex. And man she looks just like you. It's kinda scary. I mean I have a twin but we don't look that alike. She's kinda hot. Is she single?"
"Eh we get that all the time. And yea she is but she's gay."
Chad's shoulder visibly deflated. "Damn."
"I thought you liked Tara?" You narrowed your eyes slightly. Hoping it wasn't noticeable.
"I do. But I can admire another woman. And your sister is hot. Can't believe she dated a douche bag like Frankie." He didn't even do anything to the guy and Frankie had just lost his cool. And Chad wasn't one to back down.
"Yea, everyone gots at least one person they regret dating." You laid on your bed. Remembering how Tara finally met you as your true self.
*
"Hi Anthony." You looked away from your homework to see Tara sitting down in front of you. You were once again in the library.
"Hey Tara. How was the carnival yesterday?" You closed your book, focusing on the way Tara was looking at you. She had the same look of when she was studying something. In this case she was studying you. Which was making you quite nervous. "You okay tar?"
Seeming to be snapped back to reality. Tara nodded, "Yea sorry. It was fun. Why weren't you there?"
Shrugging in response, "Crazy ex showed up and wouldn't leave me alone so I just ended up leaving."
"Mmh, I didn't know you were a twin." Tara couldn't get over how much Anthony and his sister looked alike. It was truly uncanny. It was like she was looking at a man version of the girl she saw at the carnival.
"Oh you met Y/n? How was that?" You wanted to know what she thought of you.
"She was sweet. We didn't talk long, her girlfriend showed up."
"Girlfriend?"
"Yea this pretty red head."
You let out a laugh. She thought you were dating Quinn. You love Quinn she was one of your best friends. "Oh you mean Quinn. No that's just my sisters best friend."
Having a weird sense of relief, she wasn't even sure why. She had just met you. Why did she feel jealous. She had no reason to feel this type of jealousy. "Oh. They just seemed close."
"They've been friends since they were in diapers. They've just had a close bond since like forever."
"That's sweet..Wait didn't you kiss the red head?!" The memory had been shoved right to the front of her brain.
"Oh...yea. Uh.." Think faster!! "That was more of a friendly kiss? Quinn was just trying to help me break up with my girlfriend at the time. Sherrie was-is crazy. She was also kinda of a bitch to Y/n."
At the mention of that girl being mean to Y/n. It had her feeling, protective? You had looked so nice. Your soft y/ec eyes held some type of warmth. She wanted nothing more than to talk to you again.
*
"Y/LN!" You jumped up from the leg press machine. You had been working out with Chad for the past hour. The game against your school was less than a week away. And you have been training hard. The practices have been a lot more easier now that you knew how to play like a man. Chad had been a great help.
"Yes coach?"
A jersey being thrown at you. You looked down at the jersey. Your last name stitched on the back of the jersey along with a big number name below it. You felt your eyes widen in shock and excitement.
"You're first string for the rivalry game."
"Really?"
"No I was joking, you idiot." Coach Loomis said sarcastically before walking away.
You couldn't contain your excitement. Jumping up and down. "Yes!" Chad laughed as he shook his head.
"Congratulations man."
*
"Oh I know. Ask out Chad, like in a friend date. But don't let him know that, do it in front of Anthony. See how he reacts." Amber looked at Chad and Anthony from across the gym.
"But I don't like Chad."
"Which is why it will be a friend date. But you'll tell him that on the date."
Tara debated the plan. She really liked Anthony. His personality, his attitude, the way he was around her. It was so refreshing. So pure.
"Okay."
*
You couldn't stop smiling. All your hard work was finally paying off. Your point that you were trying to make was almost done. Wanting finish your workout before calling the girls.
"Hey Chad."
You both looked up to see Tara in all her glory standing there. Looking at Chad.
"Tara! Hi."
You could tell that he was nervous. With a quick look from Tara. You sent her an awkward thin lipped smile. Hoping Tara couldn't tell how jealous and dejected as you seemed.
"How about we go out on Friday."
But she did. She could see how the happy glint in his eyes faded as soon as she mentioned the date. She watched as Anthony turned around fiddling with his phone.
"Really?! I uh mean. Cool. Yea cool I'll see you Friday."
*
You hated yourself for feeling so jealous. You hated it. You had no right to feel jealous. Tara was straight and clearly giving Chad a chance. You had to focus on the bigger picture. So you tired to do that.
Staying late at the gym before the big game tomorrow. You didn't know how long you were until you saw the time. Figuring you needed some good nights rest before the game tomorrow. With a quick shower, you made your way back to your dorm room.
You had expected for Chad to be home so quickly. You were sure he would still be out with Tara.
"So are you gonna tell me the truth?"
The truth? You looked at Chad wide eyed. Did he know that you weren't a boy. You were sure you had been good at hiding your true self. Maybe your wig had fallen off while you were sleeping.
"Uh truth?"
"Yes the fucking truth."
He seemed angry, well you assumed he had a right to. Maybe he felt a little weirded out that girl has been rooming with him for a while.
"Okay, I'll tell you the truth. But just know that I did this cause I had to prove something. I've always loved soccer and-What so you use me to get better at soccer and then what steal my girl."
You were confused now. What on earth was Chad talking about? "Wait what? What are you talking about?"
"Dude stop lying I saw you!" Chad knew he may have been overacting. First he was a bit mad and disappointed that the date hadn't gone as he had hoped. The date had been so awkward and he had just felt so uncomfortable, and top off the date Tara had told him she didn't like him in that way. When he had seen Anthony, his so called friend kissing Tara. He had felt so betrayed and extremely jealous.
"Saw me do what?"
With his anger at an all time high. He had pushed Anthony out of the room without any further explanation. Slamming the door in Anthony's face.
"What the fuck?" You were left confused. With no where else to sleep you walked away towards the library. Hoping that it was open.
*
"Yo Anthony! What are you doing here?!" Jumping up from the chairs you had pushed together in a form of makeshift bed. "The game is about to start."
This had you almost tripping over your own two feet as you ran out of the library towards the boys locker room. Confusion taking over as you saw your uniform was gone. Fumbling with your phone hoping to find some answers.
Tony: thanks for unpacking my things and making my room. You're the best sis
Tony: why did you sneak tampons in my drawer. Jerk
"Fuck."
**
You could only watch from the safety of hiding under the bleachers as your brother destroyed all your hard work. He truly was a horrible athlete. It was like watching a baby trying to walk. If anything a baby could probably play better.
Sighing in relief as the whistle blew out signaling the ending of the first half. Watching as the coach Loomis spoke to your brother. Banging your head on the metal. Your brother walked past the bleachers and you took this opportunity to yank him under the bleachers.
"What the fu-Y/n?"
"Dude what the hell are you doing?" You punched his arm, he was supposed to give you a heads up before coming back.
"Ow! Me? Why are you dressed like me?"
"Ugh I was trying to prove to our old school that a girl could be just as good as any boy on the damn team. Can you believe they cut the girls soccer team and not the boys?"
"Wait what? But the girls team win more games?" He knew how much you love the game. There was never a game he would miss when you played.
"Wait, what are you even doing here?"
"Oh!" Remembering what had happened last night. "There was this girl. She kissed me. And even though it was only a second cause when she pulled away from me and looked at me like I was stranger. But I came to look for her cause she was hot."
"That's what Chad was talking about." You mumbled to yourself. "Give me back my uniform. And stay hidden.”
*
“Wait what do you mean you kissed him?” Amber asked as she looked away from the game. Half time had just started and it looked like Anthony was being given another chance. She had never seen someone play so horribly. It was almost laughable.
“Yea I did.”
“Then why do you sound disappointed? Shouldn’t you be happy, you have been crushing on the guy for a while now.” She looked back at the match. The second half time hasn’t started yet.
“I don’t know. I felt nothing. He usually makes me feel so much but last night, it felt weird like I was kissing a stranger. His lips weren’t as soft as they looked.” She didn’t really remember seeing his lips last night. But she remembered seeing those lips everyday. They had always looked so soft so kissable. The lips she kissed last night were not soft.
“Well I’ve seen him practice and he looked great during practice. The way he was playing in the first half, it might as well have been a stranger.” Mindy spoke up from her spot. There was no way Anthony was playing like newbie when he had trained so hard to make first string.
Quinn, Kirby and Anika shared a look. They were sitting behind the three girls. Maybe the short girl wasn’t as straight as they had assumed.
*
The second half was going a whole lot better than the first half. With you scoring the first goal with the help of Ethan. The stadium bursting out in cheers. The score now being 1-0.
You could still fell the hostility coming from Chad. He refused to look at you, going as far as to not even passing you the ball. This caused him to lose the ball. Leading your old school to score. Tying the game.
“Dude come on I know you’re mad but let’s put that aside for the next forty minutes.” You made the mistake of placing your hand on his shoulder. This caused him to push you away.
“Get your hands off me.”
“Chad come on-” you were pushed again before Ethan and Wes held him back.
“Do you two little princesses have to step off or something?” Hearing your ex’s voice was not what you needed. Hearing his obnoxious laughter along with his teammates was almost ruining the happiness you felt. “Do you ne—Y/n?!”
You didn’t want to look at him. Cause now you were for sure made. The dream you had of proving yourself was burning down. With a heavy sigh you turned around. Seeing Frankie’s eyes widen in shock. Knowing the act was over. You took off your wig. Hearing gasps from literally everyone.
“You’re a girl?!” Chad asked no longer angry. He couldn’t believe he just physically pushed a girl. And his push hadn’t been gentle.
“Yea sorry about the lying, I had a point to prove.” You moved your gaze towards your coach. He had his arms crossed.
Hearing the laughter coming from Frankie and his teammates, even his coach had laughed. “You can’t play with a girl. It says in the rule book.” The coach said smugly. This was when coach Loomis stepped up. Taking the book from the other coach.
“What rule book? Here in Woodboro we don’t discriminate. Based on gender.” Coach pointed his finger at the other coach’s chest. And you knew it hurt based on how the other coach stumbled back and how rubbed the spot.
“Alright then. You think you can beat us with a girl on your team. Good luck. You’re gonna need it.”
With a wink being shot your way by Coach Loomis you smiled excitedly. You couldn’t believe he was going to let you play. You quickly put your hair up in a ponytail so it wouldn’t be in your face. You were now more confident more comfortable.
*
Winning the game had been everything and more. The way Frankie had run off crying was so funny, extremely hilarious actually. You had been told off by your parents like you had expected but you could tell they were proud. Especially your dad.
You also watched as Chad was being down talked by your brother. Probably telling Chad off for pushing you earlier.
“All this time you were Y/n?” You turned around to see Tara standing there. She had not looked mad or anything. It was more a of curiosity.
“Yes. I’m sorry. I know it was misleading and wrong. For that I’m sorry.” You fiddled with your fingers. Upon hearing laugh you looked up towards her. Her smile brighter than before.
“Are you kidding? If anything I need glasses. Cause wow. Also sorry for kissing yesterday. Kinda thought you were her.” Anthony walked back to his sister and the hot girl, although a bit dejected he was happy you were happy. He had never seen you so happy yet nervous at the same time. By the way Tara was looking at you. He knew she felt the same way. With a dismissive wave he smiled and walked away.
“So? You’re not mad?”
With a shake of her head, she took your hand in hers. “A little bit, but that’s because I was so sexually confused, then you came along and I’ve never been so confused. Now I’m just hoping you feel the same.”
With the smile of your own you grinned back. “I’ve never felt so sure Ms.President.”
With a giggle of her own she wrapped her arms around your neck and brought you down for a long awaited kiss. Now these lips were soft. These were the lips she had been dreaming about. The feeling that had been absent were now there and going crazy. Just like she had wanted.
“I FUCKING KNEW IT!!” Amber yelled. There had been no way she found a boy attractive. Especially since she had the biggest crush on her best friends sister. But that wasn’t relevant.
:)
290 notes · View notes
luxaofhesperides · 5 months
Note
For the ghostlights drabbles: “Say my name” with a favor being called in?
Duke had saved Phantom years ago, back when he was just out of high school and working to take down a branch of the government that was kidnapping and experimenting on people, targeting magic users and metas. Phantom had been working on his own to take them down, and they met in the middle, trashing a lab and freeing as many people as they could.
They had managed to shoot his back, knocking him down and making him bleed a glowing green. Phantom couldn’t move, protecting two kids with his body, and Duke couldn’t reach them in time before they were taken away by another swarm of agents. 
He was able to go after them in time, free Phantom and the kids, and evacuated the victims before Phantom rained hell down on the facility.
At the end, standing in the background as they watched paramedics treat the victims and take them towards the nearest hospitals, Phantom had turned towards him and thanked him.
Or rather, he thanked the Signal and offered him a bracelet with a rounded orb of ice, glowing faintly in the dark. If you ever need me, he had said, Hold this, and call me name.
Phantom vanished once the last of the victims were transported to a safer location, and Duke hadn’t seen him since.
He’s kept up with news about Phantom as best he can, but from what he could tell, Phantom is based primarily in Amity Park, Illinois, and the town is fiercely protective of their hero. News rarely leaks out of there, and with them running on their own servers and independent internet, it was nearly impossible to get in from the outside. 
Phantom remained a curious and distant figure in Duke’s life. He holds onto the bracelet still, guarding it carefully and sometimes running his fingers over the ice that never melts.
But he doesn’t call in that favor. He’s never to.
At least, not until now.
Sucking in a breath, Duke prepares himself and holds the orb of ice in the palm of his hand. He’s in civies, unable to hide his identity for this, and closes his eyes. “Phantom,” he says.
For a moment, nothing happens. Duke blinks his eyes open and frowns, mind already forming new plans to contact Phantom. Then the ice goes bitingly cold, almost painful, and the temperature in the room drops dramatically. The ice lifts up from his hand, floating in the air, then cracks open.
White-blue light spills out of it, growing brighter as it seems to swallow up the room entirely. Duke hurries to back up, an arm thrown up to protect his eyes. His breath mists out before him and he shivers as the sound of ice cracking fills the room.
And then, just as suddenly as it started, the light disappears and the cold fades away like a bad dream. 
Slowly, Duke lowers his arm and looks up at Phantom, floating in the middle of his living room with a crown made of ice, engulfed in blue fire, hovers above his head. He looks older, more regal, holding his head high. 
He regards Duke carefully for a minute, then tilts his head and says, “Signal?”
“Yeah, it’s me. Man, I’m so glad you came.”
“You… need help with something? You’re calling in your favor now, right?”
Duke nods. He understands Phantom’s confusion; being in the hero business means that favors like these tend to be used only during the most hopeless of times, when the world is close to ending, when the chances of getting out of a situation alive is close to impossible. It’s exactly the kind of thing Duke was expecting to call Phantom in for.
Not the kid sleeping on his couch.
“You’re a ghost, yeah?”
Phantom blinks at him. “Ghost king, now. Why?”
“Well…” Duke rubs the back of his neck, nervously. “I didn’t really know who else to call, and I can’t do this on my own since I’m not a ghost. But this kid got attached to me and won’t leave, so now I’m taking care of her and I have no idea what I’m doing.”
“I don’t know why you think I have any experience with kids but—”
“She’s a ghost.”
Phantom stops short. “Ah. I see.” He floats down until his feet touch the floor, and then he’s standing like any other person. “Where…?”
Duke looks past Phantom’s shoulder, and Phantom turns to follow his gaze. Chelsea, the ghost girl, looks to be around nine years old and is fast asleep on the couch, curled up under Duke’s softest blanket.
“Signal,” Phantom says quietly, “What, exactly, is the favor you need from me?”
“You can say no,” Duke starts. “I get that this is a lot. But I need help raising her. And since you’re a ghost, I figured you could help me learn about the ghostly side of things. You don’t have to raise her with me or anything! Just… I would appreciate any help you’re willing to give me.”
Phantom doesn’t say no. He doesn’t say anything. He just stares down at Chelsea, an unreadable expression on his face. 
On the couch. Chelsea shifts in her sleep, brows furrowing as she makes a choked noise in the back of her throat.
Moving on autopilot after so many nights of this routine, Duke kneels next to the couch, fishing one of her hands from beneath the blanket. He gives it a few reassuring squeezes, keeping it a slow rhythm to pull her gently from her nightmare. She settles down in just a minute, brow smoothing out as she continues to sleep. 
The silence grows and Duke is all too aware that his heart is the only one beating. 
He doesn’t hear Phantom move. Doesn’t realize he’s right next to him until he sees Phantom’s hand reach out towards Chelsea. When Duke looks, Phantom is sitting on the floor next to Duke, looking at Chelsea with something soft and devastated in his eyes. His hand hovers about her head for a long moment, then slowly lowers to rest on her head. 
The touch looks gently, barely putting any pressure on her head, but it’s enough to make Chelsea’s eyes snap open, suddenly wide awake. She stares at Phantom with wide eyes, then sits up and looks between him and Duke.
“Who are you?” she asks in a small voice that makes Duke want to stand against the world to keep her safe. 
Phantom smiles. It’s casual and charming and makes him look like anyone else, as if he’s not a powerful king from a realm unreachable to humans. “Hi there,” he says, “I’m Danny. I’m a ghost like you. Signal called me and asked me to meet you.”
The Ghost King is good with kids. Who would have thought?
Chelsea looks at him for confirmation and only relaxes when he nods. “I’m Chelsea. What do you mean ghost? I’m not dead.”
Both he and Phantom tense, carefully keeping their expressions neutral. She hasn’t told him much at all, just that her parents were gone and forgot her and she got hurt, so she wanted to stay with ‘Mr. Signal’ because he’s a hero and heroes keep people safe and he was the only one who was Black like her. Duke hadn’t had the heart to say no, and began searching for her family, only to find that her parents had fled the state, and likely the country, after killing their only child through neglect and a dangerous environment. 
It was then that he realized that her powers were not because she was a meta, but because she was ghost.
It still hurts to realize how young she is, how much of her life had been stolen from her in an instant. Duke hadn’t been brave enough to broach the topic with her, instead choosing to let her grow comfortable in his presence, get them both settled into a routine now that he was her primary guardian. 
“I know it sounds scary,” Phantom says, “And you may not want to believe me, but it’s true. I’m sorry that you died so young, but that just means you get to hang out with me and other ghosts from now on!”
Chelsea crosses her arms over her chest and glares at him. “I am not dead,” she says.
“Cici, I’m sorry to say this, but you are,” Duke cuts in. “That’s why I called… Danny. You have new powers as a ghost, and he can help you get used to them.”
“I’m not dead!” she says again.
“Kid,” Phantom begins, but Chelsea shakes her head hard and hops off the couch.
“I’m not lying! Watch, I’ll prove it to you!” She closes her eyes and scrunches up her nose, concentrating. Her hands curl into tight fists by her sides, and the glow around her grows dim. Two faint, stuttering rings of light appear around her waist. They flicker and wobble in the air, as if weak and uncertain of their own existence, then split apart, one moving up towards her head while the other falls to her feet.
Beside him, Phantom sucks in a sharp breath, but Duke can’t turn to see what’s wrong when he’s trying to take in the sight of Chelsea suddenly full of vibrant color, looking more solid that he’s ever seen her, very much alive.
“See?” she says proudly, lifting her arms and doing a spin to show off her right she was. “I told you I’m not dead!”
“No, you’re not,” Phantom agrees, sounding shell-shocked. When Duke is finally able to look away from Chelsea to check on him, he looks awed. There’s the smallest smile on his face, just the slightest upturn of his lips, but it makes him look softer.
Duke turns his attention back to Chelsea before he can be caught staring. “Cici, can you come here for a second?”
She goes before he’s finished speaking, crossing the space between them in a single jump, then grins up at him. Her hair is a bit of a mess, the two buns he managed to get her hair into falling askew. He makes a note to visit the old aunties in the Narrows later to ask them to teach him how to do hair. For now, he holds out a hand and Chelsea drops an arm into it.
It seems to good to be true, having her be alive, but her pulse is steady and strong when he presses his thumb against the inside of her wrist. 
“Well,” he says, leaning back and letting go of her arm. “You certainly proved us wrong.”
Chelsea doesn’t have much time to look smug before PHantom quietly says, “You’re like me.”
“What?”
“You’re like me,” he tells Chelsea. “A halfa.”
She tilts her head to one side. “What’s that?”
“Someone who is half human and half ghost. Both dead and alive.”
Duke blinks, taking in the words, then turns to face Phantom so quickly he’s worried he might give himself whiplash. Halfa, he said. Like me, he said. 
And sure enough, two rings of light, bright and strong, appear around Phantom’s waist before splitting in half, moving over his entire body. 
Gone is the Ghost King, all powerful and adorned in dark clothing with a crown of ice above his head. In his place is a guy who looks to be Duke’s age, eyes a deep blue and his black hair messy, feet set solidly on the floor. He looks completely normal, completely human, and no longer an impossibility.
“You still up for learning how to use all your new powers?” Phantom asks.
Chelsea grins. “Yeah!” And then, with a quick flick of her eyes going from Phantom to Duke that he almost misses, very innocently asks, “Are you going to stay with us then?”
“I… don’t know?” Phantom looks to Duke for an answer.
Already, Duke can see this going two ways. The correct way forward, the normal one, has Phantom popping in every so often, taking Chelsea out for a few hours to work on training her and her powers. It’s easy and routine and they can keep their boundaries uncrossed and be professional. 
The other path is what Duke wants most that he shouldn’t impose onto the literal Ghost King. He could have Phantom living with them while he’s on Earth and out of Amity Park, having a place at the table, a section in the closet for his own clothes, a quietly domestic night together while Chelsea sleeps where they can get to know each other more, get to know each other outside of news reports and texts on a screen.
“You can stay with us if you want,” Duke offers, casually, “It might keep my apartment safe from her powers acting up on their own again.”
“Are you sure? I could always just fly in on the weekends or something.”
“I’d appreciate having you around. So you can help Cici.”
“If you don’t mind,” Phantom says, looking away. Like this, fully alive with a beating heart, it’s easy to see the blush steal away across his cheeks. 
“I don’t.”
“I don’t either!” Chelsea pops in, looking far too gleeful by their awkward conversation.
Duke can’t help but laugh, feeling lighter than he had in ages. The relief of knowing that Chelsea is alive, for the most part at least, eases the guilt of thinking he had been too late to save her, that there was no chance she could have made it out and had a future, makes him feel weak. All the exhaustion of the past few weeks hits him all at once and he wants nothing more than to collapse in bed and sleep for twelve hours.
“Alright, squirt,” he says, reaching out to pat her head. “It’s late. We can talk more in the morning, so go to bed. In your actual bed this time, not on the couch.”
Chelsea stands up taller, ready to argue, but Duke gives her a Look™ and she quickly shuts her mouth, nods, and drags her feet back to her room (the former guestroom he can never give any of the other Waynes ever again, once they find out about her). 
Sighing, Duke collapses onto the couch once he hears the door shut behind her. Phantom joins him after a few seconds, sitting tentatively on the edge of the couch. The cushion moves beneath his weight, another reminder of how solid and alive he is right not.
Duke wants to touch him, to reach out and feel for himself his pulse, the warmth of his body, his chest lifting with each breath. 
He doesn’t move. He stays where he is, hands carefully still, and tries to think past the dizzying thoughts of she’s still alive, I’m not too late, he’s still here, he’s alive.
“Rough week?” Phantom asks, voice purposefully light.
“Something like that.”
“You should get some sleep too.”
“I don’t think I can. Not after everything. My mind’s too loud right now.”
Phantom shifts closer to him, hesitant in a way that Duke has never seen before in him, and asks, “Want me to stay with you until you mind quiets down some?”
“Yeah. I’d like that. Thanks, Phantom.”
“You know, if I’m going to be around so often as Chelsea’s halfa mentor, then you might as well call me Danny.”
Truth be told, Duke didn’t think that was his real name. He’s glad to know it’s not. 
“Then call me Duke.”
“...Are you sure? You could still hide your identity from me.”
“Nah, I trust you. A name for a name, yeah?”
Danny smiles. “Duke,” he says, testing out the name, and it’s never sounded better than when it falls from Danny’s mouth.
“Danny,” Duke returns. He belatedly realizes that they’ve leaned towards each other, drawn together like gravity, stuck in each other’s orbit. It feels natural. It feels like this is where they’re meant to be.
Maybe he should be more cautious. They’ve only meant once before, after all. But he’s read all he could on Phantom and has seen how Amity Park loves him. He’s stressed and exhausted and trying to figure out how to look after a half-ghost child that’s already been dealt a bad hand in life. He should be keeping Phantom at a distance, watching over him carefully to ensure he isn’t a threat to Chelsea.
But Duke saw how he acted with Chelsea, so gentle and understanding and kind. That’s all he needed to see.
He may not know much about Danny, but he knows this: he is trustworthy.
Enough to entrust his identity to him.
Enough to entrust Chelsea to him.
It’s more than a favor; it’s a promise to walk this road together. 
There’s no one he’d rather do this with. 
“Thanks,” he says again, “For all of this. I know it’s a lot.”
Danny shrugs. “I don’t mind. Really. It’s nice to know there’s another halfa out there, no matter how she came to be one. Makes things feel less lonely.”
“Will you tell me more about halfas?”
“Later. Once you get some proper rest. We’ve got time, haven’t we?”
“We do,” Duke agrees, affection settling warm in his chest. “We’ve got plenty of time.”
Learning how to control her new powers won’t be easy for Chelsea. Learning how to take care of her won’t be easy. Learning how to do things together, as Duke and Danny rather than the Signal and Phantom, won’t be easy. But Duke knows with a certainty he feels in his bones that they’re going to be fine.
So long as they’ve got each other, they’ll be fine.
521 notes · View notes
Note
The triplets are here but with Azul, Carter, Rook, Epel, Sebek and Riddle
I'll just do three for now 🖤🖤🖤
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Triplets Are Here (2) | Yandere Twisted Wonderland x Crewel Daughter
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Azul Ashengrotto
“W-wow t-three?! I can’t believe it! I won’t just be a father I’ll be a father of three!”
He’s nervous and excited all the same
With how nervous he gets he’ll be needing the calming breaths more than you 
Once he gets over the shock 
There’s a new air of confidence
He’s got a wife
He’s got babies, three in fact
With you the woman of his dreams
“Ah~Look at them! I can’t believe it–ergh!”
“Its okay to cry just don’t do it on the babies.”
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Epel Felmier
“Yeah! This man did that!”
“Epel don’t point at me like that.”
“Sorry.”
He’s excited 
After all the adversity and broken noses (not his)
He’s finally getting some babies
Who can contest his manliness now
Most certaintly not those who see his beautiful babies with you
“That’s my babies and my baby! Awww I love you guys! I’m going to kill anyone who touches a hair on your heads.”
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Riddle Rosehearts
“A-as we planned. A-are you sure there’s three?”
“Riddle. The ultrasound is right here.”
“I know. I know, it’s just a little hard to believe.”
He no doubt subjects your specially assigned nurses and doctor stick to the rules he designates
No matter how high class the institution is Riddle is criticizing all of them
If your father wasn’t who he was you probably would have been stressed by his behavior
It only amps up when their due date rolls around
But after being with you all these years he knows just how to keep his tyranny secret
That hospital will be a well-oiled machine by the time the little ones come
“You did an amazing job (Y/n), they’re perfect.”
“Don’t say that you make me sound like an oven.”
523 notes · View notes
quackarl · 1 year
Text
MCYT HAVING A CRUSH • HEADCANONS
A/N: I write for Foolish and Punz now too, everybody cheered! Here’s some (really specific, too!) headcanons on how they would act when reaaallyyy crushing on someone… Any way, please keep sending me requests! May take a while for me to write them, but hey, I’ve been feeling really excited about writing lately 🫶🏻 My next, or one of my next, uploads will be a full-length little fiction piece of Dream having a crush, sooo we’ll continue with this crush theme… 👀
DREAM:
If you were a streamer yourself, he’d definitely gift subs on each stream of yours. Let’s be real, he wouldn’t settle for 20 gifted subs, make it a 100. Sometimes he’d donate and attach messages with them such as “hey nice stream you got there” or just straight up “(sugar) daddy dream is here”. UM, RIP CHAT. AM I RIGHT? Knowing him, it’d be an unnecessarily large amount of money, but he just wants to see the stunned look on your face and hear you thank and praise him for his generosity like no other. Man’s smiling so hard at himself and feeling a little prideful for being able to spoil you like that, in front of thousands of people watching too, and thinking if only he could spoil you as more than a friend.
Giving you piggyback rides! Or more like demanding to give you piggyback rides… Dream would give off such cocky energy when he’d get to carry you on his back, though. Like you were royalty and he was your carriage. I can just imagine him walking around piggybacking you and someone asking him for a favor, to which he’d reply “I’d love to but I’m kinda busy here, and my hands are kinda full so…” and gesture at you on his back and his hands supporting you. You’d hurrily try to climb off of him, to which he’d just yelp a little “no!” and then proceed to throw you a reassuring smile over his shoulder, silently telling you he likes having you so close to him.
Yeah so, those little acts of service are it for him. He’d feel the urge to spoil you, as stated before, and this side of him would strongly come out if you ever were to shop with him around. If you ever wanted to even look at an item, you better do it quick and not let him see. Because the moment he sees you looking a little too hard at or twiddle with something you’re considering buying, he strides over to you and starts asking “you want it? ‘Cause if you want it, it’s yours” and you can already see him taking out his credit card. And before he even gives you time to think, he has already bought it for you. Damn, he’d buy the whole store for you in a heartbeat if you asked. So, better not even joke about it to him…
You know the really cheesy move guys pull when they yawn and stretch and lift up their arm and then put it over their crushes’ shoulder? I feel like Dream would be so guilty of attempting that, successfully attempting that. He’d make it super playful though, he doesn’t want to scare you away, in case you wouldn’t feel the same way about him. After successfully getting his arm around you, he’d blissfully sigh “ah! This is nice, or what?”
He’d make playlists, for himself. And they’d be public for everyone to see. Nothing weird about that, right? Or at least at first, there was nothing exceptional about them, or so did everyone thought, until later a few fans pointed it out that, maybe coincidentally, the first letters of each track spelt out your name. Totally not a coincidence for Dream, even though that’s what he tells to the curious public: it’s all a coincidence. He wouldn’t be afraid to make his crush on you obvious to the world. Because no one would know just how serious he was about it, instead he’d just play it off as playful banter between two close friends. It’d be just for him to know that he did it out of true affection. Maybe someday for you to know as well, he hopes. But for now, he settles for playing it cool and laughing off the people online freaking out.
Even more of being close to you. Like in forms of giving you massages. Yep. He’d sneak up behind you and just start massaging your shoulders. In a totally friendly way. Or so he hopes it seems like, because again, he doesn’t want to scare you away. So a friendly massage. And who are you to turn down a free massage? And so he’s massaging away and relishing in getting to be close to you again. He’d get super into it though and probably make a few dramatic “Ohh! Ahh! Oh yeah!” sound effects of his own. He’d ask you then “you feel good now?” You know damn well that Sapnap would fight the urge to ask Dream does he like making you feel good.
SAPNAP:
Congrats, now that he’s (still secretly) hardcore crushing on you big time, you have a hype man of your own (that’s him). If it came to video games and watching you play them, he’d (sometimes lewdly) comment on every move you’d make in the game, such as “you’re so fucking good at that. You know what being around a good player, who’s also hot, does to me”, he’d scream “YEAH!” a little too loud whenever you’d win. Others hearing it will point out his constant praise with a “yeah, we get it already” to which he’d mumble a quiet “shut up” and bite back a smile. Like Dream, he just wants to like you loud and proud, but not give it away that he’s actually being serious and doing more than just platonic flirting. He also finds you being skilled attractive, no matter how small the said skill is. Even when it comes to mundane things, he’s still rooting for you. It could be something as simple as cooking with him and his need to praise you would get triggered by something as simple as you working a blender perfectly. Yeah… He cheers and claps when you’re done blending and then explains himself when you question what got him so excited, “n-no, nothing, it’s just that, that can be pretty tough, y’know? Especially avoiding spillage. Dream usually doesn’t know how to do it the right way so-“ “Yes, I do!” Dream would interrupt and yell from the living room. Sapnap just hopes he shuts up so he doesn’t blow his cover. He knows that Dream knows damn well how to use the blender, but in his eyes you’re just superior at everything, so even if it takes throwing Dream under the bus to make you feel superior, he’ll do it.
Okay, so, he loves praising you but he also likes hearing you praise him. He’d trick you into it though by asking you questions such as “don’t I just look so good today?” or “do you like this new hoodie I bought?” You’d have no choice than to agree and tell him that yes, he looks nice. It literally has him falling asleep with a smile on his face that night, wishing that the more you tell him that, the more you’ll also convince yourself that he is indeed pretty cute, and hot, and handsome, and all that. He’d do anything to convince you that he’s the most handsome thing you’ll ever see. 
God help him if you’d ever talk to him about someone other than him, any other guy. Yeah, his heart would break a little, but it’d also make him super competitive and, well, petty as hell. You could even harmlessly compliment Karl and he’d instantly get into a “but I’m better” mood. And that’s also exactly what he’d ask you, “but he’s not as cute as me, right?” You’d be taken back a little and tell him that “I think there’s no reason for that,” which should be enough to reassure him and his petty mood, but he’d just pout and grunt back “we’ll see about that.” He can’t sometimes stand anyone else than him hearing those compliments from you, especially if he was in a grumpy mood to begin with. Talking about compliments, he’d also learn any skill just to impress you. And to be better than everyone else. Simp behavior…
He’d also be sooo whiny. He’d use that whiny tone to convince you. Trying to convince you to stay over at his house for a little longer. Or trying to convince you in voice call to play one more round of a game with him on stream when you’d have million of other important things to do instead. He’d talk in that tone only for you, but he wouldn’t really care if others heard him. Usually if any of the boys would hear him, they’d definitely gag at his sweet talk. All in good fun, of course. If you were to deny him and his attempt to get you to join his team for just one more round, he wouldn’t stop whining for the majority of the stream nor the call. 30 minutes later and you can still occasionally hear his voice whining, “whyyyyy? But why would you say ‘no’? Pleaseeeee....” aaand cue to Karl gagging. 
Sapnap would be so slick when it comes to spending more time with you, or initiating to spend more time with you. He’d ask you “hey, do you remember when we went to that arcade?” and you’d be a mess of confusion because, you have never been to an arcade with him, so you’d tell him with a nervous laughter “no? I don’t think that ever happened” to which he’d smirk at you and say “well, should we make it happen?” And that’s how he took to you an arcade. And to many other places. He pretends they’re dates. But shh, that’s a secret. He wouldn’t want to ruin a great friendship. He just hopes you like the slick ones if he ever was to ruin it.
Letting you borrow his hoodie and then claiming that you can keep it when you try to give it back to him? YES. This actually would happen with a couple of his hoodies. Very gentleman-y of him. You wouldn’t even have time to finish your sentence about how cold it is outside, when he already is handing you his hoodie. You’d go through the bickering back and forth of him insisting that you put it on and that he’ll be fine without it, that he’s not cold at all, and you telling him that he doesn’t need to give it to you. He knows he doesn’t, but he wants to. So let him, please. Let him enjoy the cute view (he secretly enjoys) of you in his clothes. Later on he then tells you to “just keep it”, because he has ‘plenty of hoodies anyway.’ Oh boy, he just hopes you wear it around him sometime…
Sooo quick to defend you. Sometimes it’d be a little unnecessary how strongly he’d react, but he feels that it’s now (that he’s absolutely smitten by you) in his blood to defend and protect you from anything that could make you feel bad about yourself. It could be something as simple as someone pointing out that you bite your nails as a bad habit and Sapnap would open his mouth and tell them “bro, stop. Leave them alone.” Everyone would be a little stunned and tell him to calm down, to which he’d mutter “yeah, whatever”, but no, he wouldn’t let himself calm down just yet. For the remaining of the day he’s on high alert, ready to defend you some more.
GEORGE:
My God, he’d get so giggly and blushy around you. He’d definitely argue back that no, he doesn’t, but he does. Just hearing you laugh, he’d start laughing and giggling along, even when he’d have no clue what’s so funny and what exactly it is that you’re laughing at. And the blushing! If anyone was to point out the blush on his cheeks, he’d just shake his head, roll his eyes and assure that no, his face is not red (while he is visibly red). At his weakest, he wouldn’t even be able to look at your way without blushing. How much longer exactly will he be able to hide his feelings like that?
Sometimes when he’d feel extremely bold and brave, he’d take things to Twitter. Or someone would do it for him. What I mean is that, George would look up or come across a video of let’s say, two cats cuddling or kissing, or whatsoever, and tag you and tweet “Me and you?” Twitter has a meltdown. Meltdown is an understatement. Maybe he’d get cold feet almost immediately and delete it before too many people would see it. (Too bad that there’ll still be hundreds of screenshots of it.) Sometimes someone else like Sapnap would instead tag you and George in a similar tweet and say “this @y/n and @GeorgeNotFound???” Yeah, you may be blind to the massive crush George has on you, but Sapnap isn’t…
Filming totally pointless TikToks with him... Yeah, they’re pointless and it’s his ideas that usually are just causing confusion amongst anyone watching them. There’s no plot, just vibes. But he can’t ignore how happy and comfortable he feels with you even on camera, even when you’re doing some stupid TikTok dances. And in a way, he also gets to show off your friendship, he wishes it was more than friendship, to the world. So yeah, most of the time they were spontaneous clips that we’re just filmed in the heat of the moment, a little humorous, definitely chaotic. What anyone watching would see on the screen is just two friends hanging out and having fun, but it’s totally different from what he feels. And he totally plays them back and watches them alone afterwards, smiling at his phone, smiling at you on his screen. And then checking you out a little bit too, “wow…”
Sure, he’s able to gently joke around with you, but then somehow end up feeling a little bad for it. He could offer you a snack and ask you “you want this?” and when you’d say yes, instead of feeding it to you, he’d instead eat it himself and laugh at you “hah! You can’t have it!” Soon he’d start feeling bad for you, even though there definitely was no harm done with that little prank, but he feels bad enough to go above and beyond to get you your own snacks that no one can steal away from you, not even him. He’d present them to you with a “woo-o! Look what I have!” and wow, he’d be so red in the face again when you stare at him with your mouth agape in surprise and ask him “you did this… for me?”
Whenever someone in the room told a joke, he’d always look at you first to see your reaction, your smile, your laugh in response. That’s such an adorable little habit he has formed now that he has a crush. For him, seeing you happy and content comes first. He’d also laugh at pretty much anything you’d say. Maybe it’s nervous laughter, for how he always feels a bit nervous around you. You could be saying the most normal things, such as “I took a walk today,” and he’d burst out laughing at that. Yeah, don’t even ask... He thinks laughter is the way to your heart, as dramatic as it sounds.
But he’d also have that side of him to be loud and… annoying around you. Maybe it’d be to keep your attention on him, to keep him on your mind at all times, even when he’s not with you. So he’d find the most bizarre ways to find his way into your days. Like, prank calling you out of nowhere. He’d call you and when you’d pick up, he’d just scream down the phone and then hang up. So romantic… But then he’d get you to call him back, to ask him if he has something to actually tell you, and then manage to keep you on the phone for an hour, just chit-chatting about nothing in particular. After you’d tell him that you have to go, he’d shriek at you “nooo! But I am so bored! Don’t leave me die of boredom! And what would you do without me then, hmm? What’s even more important to you than talking to me right now? Are you scheming to get rid of me? ‘Cause you won’t!”
He’d usually turn to you for advice, he really trusts you to not screw him over. I mean, why wouldn’t he? You’re a savior and an angel in his eyes. You could give him the worst advice and he’d still blindly follow it, just because it’s advice that came from you. And in his eyes, you could never be wrong about anything. He could text you “should I get a haircut?” and you’d tell him “sure but it’s really up to you?” and yeah, he knows it’s up to him but at least he got an opinion from you so he just texts you back “yeah I guess :]”. You best believe that he goes ahead and gets the haircut, that you technically agreed with, and only hopes you like it.
KARL:
When Karl is crushing on you, he’d be genuinely offended if you did stuff without him. Stuff that usually the two of you would do together, like watch anime, or cartoons. Or any TV -show. He’d ask you if you’ve seen the newest episode of an anime you’ve both been hooked on that just came out a few days ago, thinking that it’d be nice if you could watch it with him, but when you’d tell him that “yeah. I watched it last night,” he’d let out a frustrated sigh and tilt his head back in annoyance and tell you “nooo! I really wanted to watch it with you! Now, why would you do that and watch it without me?” Of course, he wasn’t actually mad at you, but he was really hoping he could’ve made it your thing to keep up with that anime together. So yeah, he’s a little annoyed you’d watch it without him. He likes the nights when you’re both cozy on the couch, watching it, commenting on every plot twist. Big sigh.
He’d talk to you, like a lot. Even when there was nothing to talk about. Because, in his (secret) opinion, there is always something to talk about with you. He makes conversations out of anything just to get to talk to you. You could be sitting with him in his room, looking out the window, watching birds fly by and he’d just ask you “what’s your favorite bird?” and then smile at you like he didn’t just ask the most random question and like he actually doesn’t genuinely seem interested in knowing the answer. Because he does. Well, you’d end up talking about birds, flying, nature.... and he is so happy. Because all that matters is that he’s talking to you.
He’d insist on making secret handshakes with you, that no one else knows and can learn except than you two, and then feeling so proud about them afterwards. He’d remember them even after a long time, you’d ask him how does he still remember and he would just blush and stutter, “I- it’s just kind of special. Of course I remember.”
Okay, so... Fan-fiction. He’d definitely read the fan-fictions people would write about you (there already are shippers out there, even though he has not admitted crushing on you). Maybe that’s adding fuel to the fire when he’d read them on stream. Bad idea? Maybe... He’d put so much effort into the reading, making it all feel as real as possible, voice acting to the best of his ability and all. It makes chat question though, why is he so into it? And why is he giggling every five seconds? Any possible kissing scenes... He would not even skip over them, but instead he’d make literal kissing sounds into the mic... Someone stop him.
For some reason, I can imagine him casually showing up when he knows you’re around in a shirt that says something like “if you’re reading this, I have a crush on you” and look out for your reaction. Well, yeah, you read it, and so did everyone else that talked to him that day. You laughed it off and joked that “everyone already knows that he’s a homie hopper” and so did everyone else. He’d dream about the day he could eventually confess his crush on you and also tell you that he has actually told you about it way before, and when you’d confusingly ask him when did that happen, he’d tell you that “you read my shirt, that one day when you called me out for being a homie hopper, didn’t you?” And then it’d all click.
Aww, you’d get to model for his merch! He’d ask you, no, he’d beg you. Is there really anything he’d enjoy more than seeing you in his brand new merch, before anyone else sees it? And have those pictures plastered all over his social media accounts and website? No way. Between every shot he’d take of you, he’d giggle and mutter a little “perfect”, his eyes gleaming and cheeks blushing. Every minute he’d resist the temptation to tell you how perfect you really look, because 1. he doesn’t want to get too sappy now, and 2. he still has a secret to keep... Yeah, he’s crushing on you harder than ever after that.
Whenever there’d be a group gathering and not enough seats for all of you... do I even need to say it? This man would immediately get up and give up his seat for you. A few hours later you’d call over to him, “Karl, you’ve been standing for two hours now. Don’t you want your seat back already?” and he’d shush you with a “nonsense! I’m a big man. What’s a few hours more!?” Actually, he’d give up on everything to share with you if you needed, like earbuds. Or food. Anything. If nothing, it’s always the seat he saves for you or gives up for you. 
QUACKITY:
Mostly you would play Minecraft or Roblox with him, if you’re into it. And oh man, he’d enjoy that a lot. He would not leave you alone even in the game, he’d follow your character around for the majority of it. You’d turn around in the game and boom, he’s right there on your tail. He’s actually been there the whole time. When it’s not only you and him, but also other boys in the game and in the voice chat, he’d sometimes just... act like it was just the two of us talking. Listen, he’s not rude like that, but he just really likes talking to you. You just get him, he’d think. And sure, you have a similar sense of humour. He likes. He’d crack so many jokes and funny remarks throughout the whole game. Just trying to be the funniest person in the call for you. Every time someone else, like George, would laugh at his joke that he told to you, he’d shut him down with a “bro, the fuck? That joke was obviously meant for (Y/n). You weren’t supposed to get it.” All in good fun, again. He just likes having his moments with you.
Phone calls! So many phone calls. He just wants to talk to you and hear your voice. Isn’t that sweet? When it’s time to hang up, he’d tell you “ah, I’ll talk to you again soon, okay?” and you’d agree, thinking that he’ll call you again in a few days. But he calls you exactly a minute later. You’d pick up and he’d excitedly tell you “I said I’ll talk to you again soon, didn’t I? What do you mean this is ‘too soon?’” 
Would, gently, make fun of you. This doesn’t come as a surprise to anyone. Maybe he’d try turning the tables a little bit, when people online would get a little suspicious of his sudden fondness towards you, he’d make it seem like you are actually the one crushing on him, and not the other way. Maybe that would be also a way for him to test the waters a little bit, to see how you’d react to the thought of it. He’d just make ridiculous posts online, like tweeting a poll that says “Is (Y/N) down bad or down good for me ?? Idk about you guys but they seem a little obsessed lately” or post a picture of the two of you and caption it as “after this picture was taken (Y/n) told me they like me 😳” (You definitely didn’t and the people online seemed to side with you).
The words “I like you” has actually come out of his mouth a few times around you. In a friendly way. He knows he does like you, definitely as friends, but also definitely as more than friends. But for now, liking you as a friend is the most he can do and he wants to seize it. It was when he has done a nice favour for you or given you advice on a tough situation that’s been bothering you, when you’d thank him for what he did for you, he would reply with a “yeah, of course. I fucking like you, and care about you, so..”. It was a friendly reminder and affirmation and that’s how you perceived it. So he does tell you sometimes, not just in a way that it’d make you realise he likes you more than as a friend.
So, back to him gently making fun of you, or mocking you, he’d imitate you, your gestures. I can imagine he’d pull that with any of his friends, but you are definitely not safe from that. He’d know the limits though, he’d know not to be too harsh, but you know, from spending so much time with him and the others, you’ve kind of grown into it that there’s a lot of joking around and poking fun at each other. He’d also comment on your height, like so much height talk! If you were shorter than him, then bless you, he’d love it. Always teasing you, using you as an arm rest or asking if you need a ladder. Or you could be doing absolutely nothing and he’d tease you, “what? Do I make you nervous? You have a crush on me or something?” Orrrrr you could accidentally just mispronounce a word and he’d never let you live it down. Just reminding you of it and repeating it back to you like a parrot. But, don’t take any offence, it’s just his love language.
He’d make over-the-top fan-cams or edits of you, and purposefully make them as ridiculous and exaggerated as possible. Usually he’d also include himself in them. Making sure that everyone knows that he is your #1 shipper, but also at the same time not wanting everyone to figure it out that he’s got it bad for you. He’d put them up on Twitter regardless. You’d reply to him “wtf ???” and he’d just reply back to you “😎😎 😎” He’d dare to be more bold and confident online. And I know what you’re thinking, Alex shy in real life? Well, around you, yes, a little. But online, he’d be thriving, tweeting unhinged things at you, or of you.
He definitely has some gentleman-y in him. He’d express that by, for example, offering to carry your things for you. You’re carrying a rather heavy looking bag? “I’ll take this,” he’d just announce and snatch it out of your hands. You don’t have anywhere to put your phone or keys? Swoop, same thing, but they’d go in his pocket. A few times fans has gotten glimpses of him emptying his pockets for you and handing you back your phone and other little essentials, and it was a pretty adorable sight.
WILBUR: 
I mean, the way he’d even look at you gives it all away, it’d almost be a little intimidating. But he can’t help it. The way he listens to you talk and then smirks at himself, glancing piercingly at you, occasionally glancing down at his lap trying to hide his lovey-dovey smile, trying to collect his thoughts, because God, he thinks you are so adorable. I feel like his eyes can tell more than a million words could. It’s just too bad you haven’t figured out the real emotions behind his eyes.
He’d memorise pretty much every little habit of yours, no matter how little, and then slyly smirk at himself every time he’d catch you doing them. One of those days, he’ll definitely tell you that he has taken notice of them. You’d be caught off guard and ask him “you really notice them?” and there comes that smirk on his face again, as he just nods with a quiet “yeah” and then carries on the conversation like nothing happened. But not without adding on that “it’s really cute”.
A little cliche, a little predictable, but he’d definitely all of a sudden start writing down some new mysterious, a little mushy, song lyrics... He’d run them by you and ask if they’re any good, you’d then end up asking him the important question, “who is it about?” (because, how could you not ask when it’s literally a love letter in form of a song?) and he’d sigh and say it’s about “unrequited love”. You’d leave it at that, not wanting to intrude too much, since he looks and sounds so vulnerable. He’ll wish you would’ve intruded a little more though, since he literally wrote it about you, his crush! He just doesn’t leave it at one song, but writes a couple of them. All of them about you. He dreams of being able to play them at a gig, with you in the audience, telling you they’re all about you right before going on stage... Someday, he sighs.
As a person, and especially as a person who’s really crushing on you, he would be keen on sharing every little detail with his family and close friends. So, some of his family and friends would be aware of how he feels towards you. He trusts them not to spoil the secret and hey, he could never keep his mouth shut when it comes to talking about you anyway. Sometimes while hanging out with you, he’d keep checking his phone and just smiling at it, occasionally typing long paragraphs, or so it seemed to you. You’d wonder if it’s about something you said, or if there’s someone special texting him, someone who he really cares about and really wants to talk to instead. But actually, it’d be him blowing up his friends’ phones, telling them how adorable you’re being right now. He’d be doing the whole keyboard smash thing as well. That’s how gone he is for you.
Boom, his energy and happiness levels would suddenly rise whenever you’re in the room. He’d feel super playful too, like sneaking up behind you and then whisper “boo” in your ear in a low tone, trying to playfully frighten you, and when you’d turn around to face him, you’d come face to face with the brightest eyes and smile you’ve ever seen. He’s like the happiest he’ll ever be when he’s around you. No matter how many times he has already done that, he does it almost every time he catches you alone in the room. It had almost became your thing now. You’ve learned not to get as frightened anymore as you used to, and he has learned how much he really likes getting to come so close to you and getting a reaction out of you, whether it’d be you scolding him for scaring you again or laughing at his antics. 
Strumming something on his guitar for you. I know, again, very cliche, very cheesy, very romantic, very predictable of him, but no, he doesn’t do that just for anybody. But you’re very special. (Even though you don’t know how special yet). And to spice things up a bit, he’ll make it a little more lighthearted, he’d literally play you memes, or vines. Yeah, for example, you know that “I love you bitch, I ain’t never gonna stop loving you bitch” vine? Mayyyybe he’d replace the word ‘bitch’, with some platonic pet name, if he was feeling generous, lol. But yeah, just not to make things seem too serious, he’d try to make you laugh with those amusing private performances, and also try to flex a little with his guitar playing, of course. If you’d admire him in his element, strumming away on his guitar, a little too much, he’d get super cocky and yeah... Cocky Wilbur is a whole different breed.
Everything you’d ever feel embarrassed about, he’d embrace it. He’d never let you dwell on something embarrassing that happening to you for too long. If you’d totally mess up your words, or stumble and fall over, or be caught talking or singing to yourself, he’d reassure you that he finds it “very cute” and not embarrassing at all. In some situations, if you’d mess up and embarrass yourself in front of a lot of people, or in public, he’d intentionally mess up with you, just to take the attention away from you and make you feel better about it. You’d fall over? He’d make himself trip too. You’d bump against a glass door? He’ll be right there behind you to walk into it as well. He’d just never let you feel like there’s ever anything worth feeling too embarrassed over and, in his thoughts, how could anyone as adorable as you even be embarrassing? If anything, it’s just cute.
FOOLISH: 
Oh man, he’d be an awkward one at first when he’d realize his strong feelings towards you, but he does get a lot smoother with time. And, he’s trying his best, okay.
He’d also be someone who would find it very important to make you laugh lots, be an entertainer just for you. Because he doesn’t think there is anything more attractive than someone he’s able to laugh with over the most ridiculous things, things that always wouldn’t even make sense to others. And yeah, also seeing you laugh is attractive to him, even more attractive if you’re laughing at a joke he made. Basically just whenever you’d be hanging out, it’d be an ongoing urge for him: must make you laugh. Sometimes it’d be him just squatting down to your level and starting to make random noises in your ear. That’s literally his sense of humour... And it’d be even more hilarious for him, if you’d do the same back to him. The most random noises he could think of, chirping, squeaking, beeping.... anything. Or suddenly starting up a game of tag with you, running around chasing each other, and the only way to tag each other was to tickle them. He’d squeal and wiggle like a worm when you would tickle him. It’s always something silly with him...
Protective Foolish would suddenly become a thing when he’d realize his feelings for you, and also realize that there’s nothing more he wants to do than protect you and your feelings. Keep you away from anything or anyone that could make you feel even a little uncomfortable, or hurt. His way of protecting and defending you would be just a chunk of sarcasm coming out of his mouth. He’d turn sarcastic any time when he’d feel like it’s time to protect you. If there was someone badmouthing you, he’d put on the most spiteful face you could think of and with his voice dripping with sarcasm, he’d ask them “is it so? Is that what you think, now? Was there a little shit talking there, or what?” You could tell that it’s okay, that he doesn’t need to do this, but he wouldn’t give up. He’d be so intimidating, with his tone and height and all, that he could get an apology out of anyone. And he usually does get the people badmouthing you to apologize to you, while Foolish just stands there with his arms crossed examining that it’s a genuine apology, feeling like he has accomplished another mission of his, which is to make sure that in the end your feelings are unharmed. 
Now, he’d be definitely someone who would mess up his hair a little on purpose, in hopes that you would fix it for him and smother the strands sticking up back in place. He’s so desperate for some touch from you that he’d go to such extreme lengths. God forbid if anyone would catch him doing that, he’d be so embarrassed. You’d turn around from him for a few seconds, which would give him time to very aggressively ruffle his hair with his hands and when you’d look back at him, his hair would suddenly look like it’s been through a tornado, and so you’d laugh a little and ask him “what happened? What’s going on with your hair?” and then laugh some more because he looks so ridiculous. He’d chuckle a little bit too, a little out of embarrassment, because he still can’t believe himself for the things he’s doing just to have you touch him and pay a little extra-attention to him. But regardless, he just shrugs and bends down to your level and asks you “I don’t know what happened? What? Is it bad? Fix it for me?” and you’d be a little taken aback because, did he really just ask you to do that? But of course you’d agree to it. 
Every little thing or favour you’d do for him, no matter how small or insignificant they may seem to you, he’d appreciate the heck out of them, and you. Because, was there a better feeling for him than having the person he truly, genuinely likes, to be willing to help him out with anything? He’d thank you a trillion times, and a trillion more if he could. Something as simple as you turning on the coffee machine for him, he’d tell you “seriously, thank you. That helped me like, a tons. It saved my day,” and you’d giggle and reply to him “you’re welcome. But all I did was just press a button.” He wouldn’t have that belittling, so he’d be a little more dramatic just for you and proceed to tell you how much easier it made his day, “no, like seriously, that was the best thing you could’ve ever done for me.” Okay, then.
A crushing Foolish would be so sweet that he’d totally blew off his other plans to be with you instead. You’d know that he’s been looking forward to seeing this movie with a couple of his friends that one night, but when he’d become aware of how you have no plans for that night, he’d declare how he’d rather spend the night with you anyways. You’d tell him that “Foolish, you don’t really have to do this. I thought you were supposed to go the mov-?” and he’d interrupt you “now, that’d a silly thing for me to do, I don’t know why you’re thinking like I’d leave you alone. That’s crazy thinking right there.” And so, you’d just settle for smiling coyly at him and accepting that he’s not going anywhere, and that for some reason (that’s still unclear to you), he’d even blow off his friends for you. And he’d do it over and over again. And he does.
PUNZ: 
Ouch, he’s a tough one to get to. But once you breakthrough the walls and the sort of intimidating facade he has, he is all soft for his crush.
Usually he’d be a little reserved and keep to himself, maybe a little closed off. But whenever you’d be around, it’s a whole different thing. He has never smiled so much than he did that one day when you hung around, and it didn’t go unnoticed by the other boys who were also there. Karl would text you about it after you had all gone home and ask you “What did you to punz ?? This man won’t stop cheesin” and Quackity as well would text you “punz today be like ‘😃😃’”. You’d make him happy, you’d just make him love life, just purely by existing and especially when you’d exist in his presence. He’s also extra observant around you, and so you’d catch him looking at you a lot. He’d just rest his chin on his hand and not take his eyes off of you. You’d wonder if there’s something wrong, something on your face perhaps, by the intense way he’s staring at you, but no, he’s just admiring. So let him.
Every picture of himself he’d consider posting on social media, he’d send them to you first and ask you “u like??”. Kind of like a test run. He’d do it ritually almost each time, but if you ever were to call him out for it, asking how come you’re the one he sends them to, he’d claim that it’s just all a coincidence. Sure is... But you better reply back to him as soon as you can, or he would start feeling a little insecure and think if you really like them, because if you do, why haven’t you replied yet? It’s been 20 seconds. Yeah, so, he’s a little clingy too. He just wants to talk to you as much as possible, have you see as much of him as possible, from all of his best angles as well, and maybe fish for a few compliments? Maybe. After you’d reply to him “yes, it’s good”, he’d text you back “nice. now your turn”, and you’d ask him that it’s your turn for exactly what? He’ll tell you then that it’s only fair that you send him a picture of yourself too in that exact moment. And so, it kind of really then becomes a whole ritual that after approving of his picture, you send him one back with a thumbs up or something.
Unlike with anyone else, now that he has taken a massive liking towards you, he’d actually share his food with you. And that’s major. Or, even more major and better, he’d sometimes get you food without you even having to ask, or even without mentioning that you’re hungry. He’d order takeaway for himself, or so you’d think, but he’d then turn up with an extra large portion of food and you’d ask him “damn, are you feeding the whole town?” He’d chuckle a little and then casually tell you that “nah, it’s um, it’s for you.” At that, you could’ve fallen off your seat. Let’s call it his love language to serve you even when you don’t ask for anything.
This man, he would sometimes not show up to plans if you weren’t there. He’d tell his friends that he is only willing to come if you’ll be there too. And if they tell him that you’re not going to be there, then, too bad. He simply just wouldn’t come. Any plans that you’d make without him, he’d call them ‘boring’ and ‘lame’. Sooo, he only is your good time?
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exhaslo · 5 months
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hey can I request a shy!miguel like where he stutter at reader tease. (College Au,Miguel is in the popular group but doesn’t know sex as much as reader or doesn’t know anything at all.and reader who is an ‘everyone know person’ in school )
sub/(dom???)shy!miguel x dom/tease!fem!reader. in this case can reader be a teased that teach Miguel about sex ? tease him for being hard for the easiest thing such as pornography moan, tease him for wacthing porn? Which makes him more difficult for him to stop stutter sometimes.(and that with only with her 🤭) but of course reader is a sweetie heart and teaches him one or two (an handjob or blowjob) about to masturbating which get him even more hard then he is. 🤭 (and Miguel a secret a Virgin 😌😍 a whiny horny one)
Awe, so cute! Okay, I hope I can get this one done right! Let's give it a go~
Warning: Minors DNI, semi-smut, jk smut, cockwarming, teasing, porn watching, blow job, handjob
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It all just happened to fast. You had enrolled in college and somehow ended just tutoring some people here and there, until you suddenly became the, "The Go To". Everyone went to you for any kind of information, whether or not you knew the topic.
It could be about college programs, classes, cooking, sewing, anything. Everyone went to you for anything. Thankfully, you studied a lot and watched plenty of videos. But nothing could have prepared you for your newest question.
"S-Sorry to bother you," Miguel started off.
Your jaw nearly dropped the moment you opened your dorm room to the giant. Miguel was known as the hottest guy in school. He was so quiet and mysterious that every girl on campus wanted to know him. So, the fact that he was standing in front of your door, stuttering, was coming as a big surprise to you.
"I...I hope this isn't out of your...range." He looked around, "I-I heard that...that you knew everything." His voice got lower. Again, your jaw nearly dropped,
"I mean, I can totally try and answer whatever questions you got. Come in, come in."
Your mind was racing. Miguel O'Hara was in your dorm room. Thank the lords that you had no roommate. You had alone time with the hottest guy in school!
"What...What can you t-tell me about...s-sex?"
YOUWEREREADYTODROPYOURPANTIES-
"Ah, um, just like in general or-?" You watched his body language.
You furrowed your brows slightly as you watched Miguel try to come up with a sentence. Was he shy? You felt yourself nearly take a step back. The man of everyone's dreams was shy and inexperienced with sex. Well, so were you. All you did was watch porn.
"General." Miguel whispered.
"Well, I think my best friend the porn websites can do a much, much better job at that. Have you watched porn?"
God, this was so embarassing.
"N-No."
God, he was so innocent.
"Alright, um, let me give you a list. Or how about I-" You were clearly in the wrong headspace as you opened your laptop and went to your favorite porn site, "Anything in particular you're interested in watching?"
"Ah-"
Miguel could feel his heart rise to this throat. He watched as your eyes observed him. This was not something he was prepared for. Not with you especially. Miguel had a crush on you since you shared a class last semester. He knew that you knew everything, but it took him a lot of courage to come to you with this.
And now, he was getting hard by just seeing boobs on your laptop and you staring at his bulge. This was a huge mistake!
"I-I'm s-sorry!" He panicked. You immediately stopped him,
"You can't leave like that."
Lord, you really were getting in over your head. The moment you saw Miguel's erection, you felt your own heart race. You knew that he was not going to make the first move, so you had to play the bigger person. He came to you with questions!
"It's normal. Well, sort of." You sat him down, holding his shoulders, "It's kind of cute how easy you got hard. You need to work on that."
"H-How?"
"Watch some porn. Get used to the fake moans and masterbate."
"I...I don't really-"
Oh my god, this man was just being given to you. You swore you had to wipe a tear from your eyes as you tainted this pure soul.
"I, um, I'm not...This will be a first, but I've seen this done...in videos." You whispered the last part and undid his pants, "I'm going to show you how to touch yourself."
"(Y-Y/n)!" Miguel gasped as his dick sprung out. You're jaw nearly dropped at his size,
"All you did was see some boobs," You tried to tease him.
"S-S-Sorry," His stuttering got worse.
Your cheeks were flushed as your fingers trailed his dick. You could feel Miguel shudder from your touch. This was just a learning lesson. Grabbing his dick, you started to stroke his massive cock. His grunts and moans were so loud.
"You get hard so easy. I wonder, do I have to moan to make you cum?" You said with a smile.
Miguel shuddered against your touch as your thumb rolled against his tip. Pre-cum already starting to spill. You hummed as you decided to tease him some more. Asking if he never touched himself before, if being touched like this was making him horny.
"Now, this is a private lesson, okay? I don't want anyone knowing about this." You told him, standing up and pumping his dick faster.
"Y-Yes. I-I-I u-understand," Miguel moaned as he cam against your hand. He panted heavily as you stared at the massive amount of cum he spilled,
"S-So...I-I hope this helped. Um...W-Watch some porn."
You felt your heart race as you went to wash your hands. You were hot and horny. Once you cleaned your hand, you watched Miguel clean up the mess he made. He apologized to you repeatedly and asked if he could come by again.
"Yes."
You folded too quick.
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"Awe, still getting hard by just watching porn? You're so sensitive," You teased as you stroked Miguel's dick.
It had been a week and Miguel stopped by a few times with more questions. You answered them, while demonstrating some stuff. You were getting too into this. If this was a game Miguel was playing, then he was winning. Although, you knew he wasn't by his tone.
"C-Can't h-help it. E-Especially w-when I-I'm with y-you." Miguel stuttered as he flung his head back. Your eyes widen,
"Wait, you're only this hard...because of me?"
"Y-Yes!" Miguel groaned as he bulked his hips into your hand.
Your jaw nearly dropped at his confession. Stopping your hand, you got on your knees and fixed your hair. You were going to show Miguel everything about sex. Licking his tip, you hummed as you attempted to take his large dick in your mouth.
"(Y-Y/N)?!" Miguel groaned loudly.
Miguel groaned as the warmth of your mouth engulfed the tip of his dick. Your tongue was swirling around his shaft, making him shiver in delight. Miguel shuddered as he held your head, moaning as you kept sucking him off. This felt amazing.
Gripping your head, Miguel moaned loudly as he cam into your mouth. He panted softly as he watched you pull away, coughing. Your glossy eyes glanced up into his,
"I guess we're both sloppy at this," You wiped your mouth. Miguel helped you, blushing madly,
"You're a v-virgin too?" He asked. You slowly nodded and stood up, taking your pants off,
"I watch a lot of porn. Shall I show you what we do next?"
"I-I think I-I know," Miguel stuttered as he brought you close to him.
You watched him hesitate. It was so cute. Miguel slowly brought you against his lap and started to rub his cock against your folds. His hot breathe was against your neck as he slowly entered a finger into your drenched hole.
"I-Is it o-okay if...if...I-I kiss you?" Miguel asked.
"Aweeee, you're so sweet," You cooed before nodding.
You shared a passionate kiss with Miguel as you melted under his touch. He had no idea what he was doing, but damn his fingers were big. You clenthced against his finger, to which he pulled out and started to slid his cock inside you.
God, he was big.
You moaned loudly as Miguel stretched your pussy out. You leaned against him, gasping lowly as you felt him get harder to each of your moans. This boy was going to wreck you.
"M-Miguel, before you move...Just...Let us stay like this for a moment," You begged, needing to adjust to his size. Miguel held your waist gently,
"S-Sorry."
"No need. I-I'm teaching you here," You muffled a moan, your pussy squeezing his cock as you sat still. You whimpered as you felt him twitch, "A-Are you about to c-cum from me moaning alone? Haha,"
"You're just...just so beautiful," Miguel whispered, panting softly as he tried to restrain himself.
"H-How long...mhm...have you liked me?" You asked, slowly getting used to his dick making itself at home inside you.
"S-Since last s-semester." Miguel stuttered as he felt you squeeze him, "(Y-Y/N), I-I-"
"Let me..."
You muffled a moan as you slowly started to move. The pain faded and all you felt was pleasure. His dick fit so well inside you as you started to ride Miguel. His tip kissing your cervix each time you bounced, causing you to cry out.
Miguel held your hips, moaning into your chest as he felt himself unload inside you. You didn't even care. You were feeling so good at the moment. Trying to chase your own high, you moaned loudly as you started to bounce against his dick faster.
Miguel grunted as he tried to help, thrusting his hips into you. Your eyes nearly rolled back as you cam on the spot. Miguel watched as you slumped against him, both of your breathing heavily.
"(Y-Y/N), C-Can....can we keep m-meeting? I-I originally...wanted t-to ask you out...b-but...I-"
"Yes," You whispered, resting comfortably on him, "These will be your private lessons."
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Waaaah, I hope I did okay! Hope you enjoyed it!!!
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