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#at least a tiny tad bit
screampied · 4 months
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hi hi!! Can i req a choso with him being gentle and sweet at sex w reader? :( like he would always be careful and always gives reader praises ahdjshsjeh </3
꒰  warnings . . choso x fem!reader, soft dom choso, praise, size difference, missionary. mdni. wc: 1.1k
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choso has to remind himself of how much bigger he is compared to you.
the way his broad frame effortlessly towers over you, especially during intimacy. he’d never wanna break you, his precious girl.
you’d be laid against your back, a perfect position so he can look at you right in the eyes, compliment you with a plethora of sweet sweet praises, kiss you, and even moan in your ear, making sure you know how good you’re making him feel.
“m-missed you,” he’d softly pant—his tip just shakily hovering against your slickness, he licks his lips with a hand gently pressed down against your tummy, a smooth stroke before he speaks in a cute drowsy voice, eyes half lidded. “look at me. here, hold my hand baby. please. ‘s okay.”
you reach to hold his hand, and a tiny smile tugged against his lips, he leans into your neck before he moans at the sudden squeeze your walls give him.
adjusting to him and that feeling always makes him do that thing where he moans out your name against your neck, playfully seeping his teeth against your shoulder. “g-god, don’t let go princess. jus’ hold onto me, okay? i’ll please you good, promise.”
“o-okay.” you swallowed, intertwining your fingers with his, and his fingers were surprisingly cold. the moment his touch ran and collided against yours though, oh how hot and warm he felt.
choso could praise you all day.
his strokes weren’t rough but they were just enough of a good amount to drag out sweet whimpers from you, he’d be pressed up against your ear as his length expands throughout your cunt, prodding against a few of your most sensitive spots to make your legs involuntarily lock around his slim waist.
“hold onto me, jus hold onto me.” he’d hum, and he was whining even more than you. softly licking a stripe up your neck, your right arm hooked around his shoulders, cutely clinging onto him in a romantic missionary position.
choso swallows thickly, peppering many kisses on your face, then it lead down towards your neck and collarbone — before he pauses mid thrust just to say, “oh…you’re jus’ so perfect.”
the way you’d immediately grow flustered at his words, averting your eyes away before lightly squeezing on his arm, moaning for him to keep going because you could still feel him harden and twitch inside of you.
“r-right, sorry baby. just had to admire you for a second…”
his tone was so smooth, almost bittersweet with the way he spoke to you. choso couldn’t help but sneak kisses on your mouth throughout his sloppy thrusts. his hips moved and went at its own reasonable pace — you always found it attractive how he couldn’t stop himself from deliberately moaning into your mouth. he’d always do it whenever his lips went against yours.
“you’re doin’ so good, s-so good, look at how pretty you look underneath me.” he’d mumble, raising his chin up to kiss your forehead.
while in the position, he couldn’t help but be a bit handsy to say the least. just running the very soft tips of his fingers against every curve and inch of your body….slowly.
taking in your breathtaking frame — a word he’d always use around you because that’s how he viewed you. “good girl, are you getting close? want me to s-slow down?”
“no,” you’d moan, wrapping both arms around his neck now. his movements of his hips, a good yet tad bit of a quicken pace had you bite your lip, his body heat, the sheer warmth of it had your mind just spinning. you merely lost your train of thought before you feel yourself approaching a release and your head goes back. “c-choso,” you’d whine out. and the way his eyes immediately light up at hearing his name come from your sweet mouth. “….think ‘m gonna cum, ‘m close.”
“me too, baby,” he’d rasp, his jaw tightens a bit before he leans in to kiss the side of your mouth. his ears—at least the very tips of them grow out to be so hot, feeling your pussy just grip around him and hug him close. “you look so pretty like this, y’know?”
“you’re just saying that.” you shyly utter.
“noooo i’m really not,” he cracks a smile before gasping once you drag his waist closer against you, making him hit against you just a tad bit deeper. “eheh, baby, you’re so frisky. are you sure this isn’t too rough? don’t wanna—”
you cut him off by bringing him into a kiss, it’s like his mind goes straight blank whenever you do that. the way your tongue runs across his, one hand stroking his cheek—for a moment you swear you could have heard him purr, his hair was down so it just prickled against your forehead.
you pull away before moaning, “i’m okay, i promise.”
“yeah?” he’d say, a tiny pout making his lip quiver.
“yeah.” you reassure him, reaching for his hand to squeeze it.
“…okay,” he inhales a breath. you were so cute it was almost too much for him. the way you brush a thumb against his hand, giving him kind eyes that this was what you wanted. he gives you a final kiss on the top of your head before he starts talking you through your orgasm. “just relax, okay? this is all about you, not me. wanna make you feel good.”
and he was so intent on doing that, he studied your facial expressions — the way your eyes would roll a bit in pleasure, your body language and how you’d fail to stay still, squeezing down on his hand.
“i know baby,” he murmurs, kissing the bottom of your chin. “you’re doin’ amazing, just let go for me, hold on tight ‘n don’t let go alright?” and the way his tip, his tip alone massages your inner walls has you stuttering on empty blank words, your mouth was a straight empty canvas. “look at me, hey hey don’t look away,” he whispers. “wanna see those pretty eyes roll when you cum.”
“f-fuck,” you’d babble out, hugging him, if one can consider that hugging. his body weight hovers against you, just rocking back and forth and it was so lewd, his thrusts against you were so sensual it left you with a good taste in your mouth. “okay, okay. c-choso, fuck, h-hold me.”
“i got you.” he’d whisper, it was almost like he sang it. the moment you came, feeling the immense pressure that was building up finally release itself, your legs spasmed and your orgasm was ripped away, you stared at choso before turning away and he smiles to himself. he brings a hand up to your head — a brief head pat, massaging your scalp a bit with his fingers before sharing a deep kiss with you.
he slowed down completely, just slowly rocking against you as your legs twitched, wrapping against his waist and never letting go.
“good girl,” he says between kisses, he tastes so sweet — peppering your entire face with kisses until he cracks a smile from you. “my good girl.”
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captain-mj · 3 months
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Obsessed with the idea of Ghost always being super quiet in bed. Even mask off, minimal facial expressions and nothing more than breaks in his breathing. It's a tiny bit off putting, especially to partners where it's a one night stand.
It's not because they're not good or he's not into it. But he doesn't want to force himself to make expressions, make sounds, when he just wants to feel what's happening.
Soap is... very concerned. He puts more effort in. Tries his best. Asks if he wants to try something different despite making Ghost finish in record timing (still longer than the average person, but fast for Ghost at least). So Ghost asks him why? He's having fun. Is Soap not having fun?
But Soap is having a great time. Honestly. He's just... worried. Maybe a tad self conscious because he's loud and expressive.
After several months of dating, and several months of sex, Soap wraps his arms around Ghost's shoulder and tells him he loves him.
Ghost lets out the tiniest shutters of breath and whispers it back, looking at him like he hung the stars.
Soap suddenly understands him.
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nvirskies · 3 months
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it's getting hot in here - c. la rue
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warnings: reader is like half-naked? just no shirt on is all but reader is wearing a sports bra, nothing sexual just like a tad suggestive?, clarisse is a gay mess, kinda ooc clarisse, i know next to nothing about blacksmithing please hang in there with me, fem reader, no use of y/n, self-conscious reader, not beta read
summary: clarisse goes to pick up a custom order dagger from the forge when she's met with an unexpected sight.
hephaestus!daughter!reader x clarisse la rue
word count: 1.3k
taglist: @lvrue @azrielsdiary @b0ok-lover @star-girl69 @petitegavotte
from this post !
a/n: tbh might make this a multi part thing, at least a second part. also, so sorry this took so long to finish- i got sidetracked with a couple other things irl. hope you enjoy! men, nsfw, non-sapphics, 16- / 19+ dni
It was no secret the kids of Cabin 9 ran a side business to make some extra cash. It was pretty lucrative, given that there would always be a line of demigods waiting to have their weapon(s) of choice customized. Custom engravings, patterns cast into handles, ergonomic handpiece add-ons, and so much more. Name it, and it would be done for the right price, forged with impeccable quality.
And that was how Clarisse La Rue found herself heading to the forge just east of the strawberry fields with a thin paper in one hand and a small bag of golden drachmas in the other. The edges of the slip were just barely singed, and the writing on it looked nearly incomprehensible to many eyes, scribbled notes of her order confirmation and gods only knew what else. It didn’t matter to her, she just needed it to get her dagger and go.
Crowds parted for her like the Red Sea, once-lively conversations coming to a grinding halt as she walked straight through crowds and groups with nothing more than a glare and a sharp look in any general direction. 
In no time at all, the familiar sounds of machinery clanking, fire hissing and crackling, and hammers striking metal filled the air. It was the forge, the singular place where one could guarantee there would be at least one child of Hephaestus in there at all hours of the day. 
She pushed open the heavy metal door, swinging it wide open soundlessly despite its obvious weight. And what a sight she was greeted with. You were there alone, hunched over a piece of blisteringly hot metal, pounding away at it with a hammer in one hand and a pair of tongs in the other.
Something about you entranced her. 
She didn’t know if it was the way your hair was pulled into a low ponytail, some loose strands clinging to the sides of your face, the way you subconsciously bit your lip as you focused completely on the red-hot metal in front of you. Or perhaps, it was the way your muscles rippled in the dim firelight as you struck the metal again and again, a thin sheen of sweat covering the exposed portions of your skin from both the heat and the exertion. 
Maybe it was a combination or something else entirely. 
As she gazed at you, a light blush dusted her cheeks as she came to the realization that you weren’t wearing much while working. The heat of the forge had led you to forgo wearing a shirt entirely, said shirt reduced to a tiny, crumpled gray bundle of fabric in the corner of the room. You were left wearing a sports bra, dusted with ash and soot and a pair of baggy sweatpants resting just above your hips.
It wasn’t as if Clarisse had never seen people dressed in less before. Hell, she’d seen her own fair amount of skin for various reasons. But this time, it seemed different. The slip of paper and bag of coins in her hands were forgotten momentarily as she simply stared at you from the doorway.
The way the dim light of the roaring furnace illuminated you from behind gave you an almost ethereal glow, the edges of the flames flickering around your moving silhouette. 
She could see the muscles in your arm and shoulder tensing and relaxing with every ever-so-precise swing of the hammer, and she found herself silently watching you work from the doorway. 
Ultimately, it was the soft clinking coming from the bag of drachmas Clarisse held in her hand that drew your attention away from the project in front of you. Your head snapped up, tense and a tad startled from the sudden sound, having been so zoned into your work that you hadn’t noticed her presence. 
The hammer in your hand dropped to the metal workbench with a loud clang, the sound reverberating throughout the forge, ripping Clarisse from the glossed-over, hazy look in her eyes as she watched you move just moments ago, having been completely and utterly under your spell.
“Shit-!” you exclaimed, jumping slightly and wincing at the harsh sound, eyes widening further as you’re greeted with the sight of a Clarisse who seemed far too casual compared to how she normally treated campers, especially given her outward distaste towards children of Hephaestus. 
And all of a sudden, you’re all too aware of your lack of a shirt and your cheeks flare with an embarrassed bright red flush.
Flushed the same color as the heated metal in front of you, Clarisse noted absentmindedly. It wasn’t a look she didn’t like. But of course, she would never admit that. The big, bad Clarisse La Rue flustered over something as insignificant as muscles on a girl? Impossible.
Her attention is drawn back to you, observing as you scurry to the other side of the room to grab your stashed-away shirt, slipping the loose grey fabric over your body, any and all views of the muscles she had seen just moments prior completely disappearing in a matter of seconds.
After having taken a few calming breaths, you steeled yourself for a barrage of snarky remarks that you were sure would come spewing out of the Ares cabin counselor’s mouth like acid out of the myrmeke’s mouths, but they never came.
Instead, you’re greeted with the sight of a Clarisse who seemed to be a bit flustered? Her eyes didn’t meet yours for a moment before she straightened herself out. Before your very eyes, you watched her cool and collected facade slip over her like a mask, and that trademark smirk of hers tugged at the corners of her lips.
“I’m here to pick up an order, under my name,” she remarks, holding up the bag of drachmas and thin slip of paper in an outstretched hand. Her gaze seemed like it was scrutinizing everything about your appearance from the baggy grey shirt that hung loosely over your frame to the soot just barely smudged on your forehead. Whether it was a good or bad look you had no idea, subconsciously shrinking into the shadows of the dimly lit forge.
“Right, right, La Rue…” you trail off nervously, scanning the room for the rack that held completed orders and leafing through the tags attached to each object. “La Rue, La Rue, La Rue, where is it-?” you muse to yourself, repeating her last name in a hushed tone until the sight of it comes into view. The dagger she had ordered was at the edge of the table, with the request for a heavyweight handle and an etching of her initials into the butt of it.
Normally, Clarisse would have found your behavior annoying if it were coming from anyone else, but oddly enough, she quite liked the way her last name rolled off your tongue. It felt almost natural, too natural. Quickly, she brushed away the lingering thoughts about how you had looked almost god-like with the flame from the roaring furnace glowing behind you, the thoughts of what your skin would feel like under her hands. 
After a beat of silence, you grabbed said dagger, placed a little ball of clay over its razor-sharp tip, and slipped it into a small drawstring bag, pulling it closed. 
“That’ll be five golden drachmas, La Rue, or fifteen silver ones. Whatever works for you” you say as you hand her the bag, other hand outstretched for the paper she held and to take the coins. She dropped the five golden coins in your palm and grabbed the bag to turn on her heel and walk out without another word.
Or so you thought.
“Thanks for the weapon. I’ll see you around, pretty girl.”
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silkythewriter · 3 months
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Heyy so weird request but could you do a vox x reader who has a kinda one sided rivalry with him in the sense every time he releases tech she'll challenge herself to make a better version
Vox with a one sided rivalry with reader!
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Warnings!: A tad tinne winne bit of angst!, sorry if he’s OOC! (˃̣̣̥ ^˂̣̣̥`)
Fandom!: Hazbin hotel!
Author note!: OOOOOO I haven’t written rivals to lovers in a bit! Hopefully it’s not too bad!
( ̄▽ ̄)💧
Summary!: One sided rivalry with are favorite TV demon (ノ ≧∀≦)ノ
❤️Written by silkythewriter Do not steal or repost on any other platform please! <3.❤️
★🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮★
“In the morning, you would gone
I'd be mourning, tryin' to hold on To
the memory of your lips God,
I'm so lovesick What have you done to me?“
★🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮★
!📺✨Vox✨📺!
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Devastated, like actually in greif
After YEARS of not even a single demon upon billions below in the forsaken place called hell could make a DENT in the empire he built. But then you came along! With all your Gezmos and trinkets! (He refuses to call them anything other then that)
He is insecure, no matter how much he puts a face on about not having a fear in the world. He dose, he’s terrified of being replaced or knocked off the top!
The first time you released something after he did he merely laughed. You? A small tiny little business? What idiot would do that!? Your product was most definitely gonna be looked over!
Or that is what he thought at first (ಡ‸ಡ)…
Soon he realized how quick your growth to fame was. And honestly had a melt down, who even were you?!
He makes back handed complements on his TV show like for example “and on recent news a new technology has been released by *insert your name/company name*, looks a bit cheap but it’s okay for their first time!”
Yea expect those a lot…
He’s use to company’s butting heads with him, but he always squashed them in under a day! If not less!, so he was bewildered when you just kept popping up everywhere. He doesn’t even know how. half of the channels in hell are owned or under his name! Or at least played on HIS tvs!.
And when he released a product only for the next day for it to get a bit over shadowed by yours he loses it. He immediately thinks your doing this on purpose, he thinks your doing this as a means to get his attention.
Will never admit it but he bought one just to break it outta rage but after a bit he understood the hype, will take this to his second death bed.
He’s never had a good look at you before maybe a small invention or gala for some of the highest company owners in hell. And let me tell you when this man saw you he was shocked, it took velvet to snap her fingers for him to get out of his trans-like-state. He’s more embarrassed then he’s ever been, not only are your products prove to be a good runner up to his but you were making min lose his breath.
He didn’t wanna believe at first before velvet confirmed it to him.
And may i say, the minute you glanced at him and gave him a charming smile while waving your hand at him with a small glint of pride in your eyes, he actually had a system crashed screen as his whole system rebooted.
It wouldn’t be long till you made your way over to him trying to introduce yourself(•̀ᴗ•́)و
Honestly he couldn’t think straight until you excused yourself to talk to another business owner. He dosent understand, for all the years he’s been dead how is his heart beating so fast for you?
In denial about any feelings towards you, it can’t be! He despises you !, right?
Takes him a bit to work up the courage to talk to you again, as he introduced himself properly with as much passive aggressive charm he could muster. Only to be confused at your sweet yet passive aggressive smile as you shook his hand with such care
How can someone be so competitive yet so sweet?
We’re you trying to woo him on purpose!?(ᗒᗣᗕ)՞
He didn’t understand even though he knew your intent, and the underlying nature in your interaction. He still found it charming, and shocking at you technical level and marking tactics. He isn’t happily impressed, but he is definitely impressed, he would never show that though of course.
It always seemed no matter how much of a short time between releases you always managed to make it better he just didn’t understand how!. How did you have such short time to perfect something that he’s been working at for months!
He soon realizes out shinning you or squashing you business wasn’t gonna work. You guys were too evenly matched, it would be through pure luck that one of you would out shine the other one day and not the next. So he did the best next thing, purposed a business deal (quite reluctantly might I add)
To just merge company’s he knew your rise wouldn’t falter anytime soon.
At first you felt like this was a trick, to steal your soul or take you out while your walls were down. But he quickly explained it’d be easier to just have you work on things and share the profit (surprise, surprise)
Now you can decide weather you accept or not!
But after that meeting he would call you over for many more strictly for business meetings! Definitely not just desperate to spend time with you or anything
Even when you proposed to just, email, or text, he still declined saying he found it easier to say what he needed out loud. Definitely…. (≖ᴗ≖✿)
Sooner or later you’d catch on, or some people on the news would gossip of your “secret affairs”
You would soon confront him about this, and let me tell you this man is decent at standing under pressure in some if not most situations expect this one.
I feel like he wouldn’t admit it till MANY months later cause he’s just that stubborn
He just hates it, he hates your stupid smile, the way you make his stomach do back flips, the small glint of happiness and pride when your product is loved and bought by the millions. He hates the smile you keep even if at a rivalry with him. He hates everything about you, he hates it, he hates it so much he ends up realizing he loves it.
Yea he is one complicated man….
But once he finally admits it, and you end up giving it a shot. This guy would try to act like he wasn’t about to shut down, like his inner fans and vents weren’t about to self implode, he’d act cool and collected about it but behind closed doors he’s quite literally smiling like a dope
NOW if this were released to the public, the mess that would ensue is scandals upon scandals.
I mean! Imagine the head lines! “Two of hells most biggest company rivals now together?!”
News is fast to spreed lemme tell you that
I feel like he would rather have the relationship private but if it got out…let’s just say he wouldn’t stop it either per say (¬‿¬)
Overall! I feel like even if it was a one sided rivalry I feel like it would quickly turn to both of you butting heads. Cause to out shine the king of tech himself is quite the challenge, and you being able to do that says a lot!, he’ll be holding a grudge even into a relationship and still would get competitive here to there he would definitely still study your work to see how you improve so fast!. Still in the end of the day he’ll still dote on you behind close doors!
ପ(๑•̀ᴗ-♡ॢ)⋆*✩
★🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮★
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WOWZA THAT WAS ALOT OH MY GOSH
ヘ(。□°)ヘ
I REALLY HOPE YOU LIKE IT!!, I haven’t written rivals to lover plot in a bit BUT MY GOSH NESS ITS VERY FUN TO PLAY AROUND WITH THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR REQUESTING PLEASE COME AGAIN! O(≧▽≦)O
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milfsloverblog · 8 months
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Hii!! I have a Larissa x reader request. Larissa is in her late forties, has a shit ton of money (cause that woman screams money) and she's also a tad lonely, so she decides to find herself a sugar baby and that's where reader comes in, they are broke, almost finishing college and in need of quick money. I really just need this woman to pamper me with money and love and good sex, lots of mommy kink and out of the bedroom dominance pretty pleeeeeaaassseeee
Secret Benefits (NSFW)
Part 1. (Next part)
Larissa Weems x fem!reader
A/N: Anon, I loved this request so much I’ve decided to turn it into a multiple chapter fic. We’re mostly setting the scene in this chapter, but I added a tiny bit of smut. Thanks for the request, enjoy!! <3
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You didn’t feel very proud as you clicked on the “sign up” button on the app your best friend told you about. You typed in your information - Name, age, height, weight, eye and hair colour. It did feel like you were only a product to be bought but it was what you were looking for, after all.
You filled in the “looking for” section - women, preferably. You didn’t care much about height or weight or anything like that, really, although you hoped you would be able to at least find someone attractive. But you couldn’t afford to be too picky.
It did feel like signing up for a normal dating app until you reached the “monthly income” criteria. This was by far the most important criterion, the one that had led you to this website, and yet you didn’t know what to answer. You stared at your phone screen for a moment before eventually typing in “Minimum $3500”. It felt like a correct amount, enough for someone to take care of themselves and you as well.
You uploaded a few pictures, a couple of selfies and one where your whole body was visible. You probably would have more chance of quickly finding someone if you uploaded a more revealing picture, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to do it. Not yet.
You took a deep breath and clicked on the button that would make your profile public, watching the message that popped up on your screen - Welcome to Secret Benefits, the number one sugar dating app in America.
Your profile had only been public for a few minutes when you received your first like and inbox message. A man saying he would pay you a thousand dollars a week and didn’t want anything in exchange, only to chat with you. Your friend had warned you about this kind of scam so you simply rolled your eyes and reported the profile.
Browsing through the app you quickly realised that most people on there were men over forty searching for a pretty thing to parade around with. You knew it was the whole point of this app and those kind of relationships, but still.
It felt like you had been scrolling for hours when a profile finally caught your eye. Larissa, 48. Her picture was what first caught your attention. The woman was half-turned from the camera, holding a glass of red wine in her hand. Her white hair was tied in an intricate updo, her lips painted with a crimson red that matched her nails and her blue eyes fixed on the camera as if she had caught the photographer in the act of taking her picture. It almost felt like she was looking right at you. She looked beautiful.
You clicked on her profile, hoping to learn more about the woman. You read her body description, eyes widening when you reached the height criteria and read that she was 6’3. She looked like the type of woman who enjoyed wearing heels and you felt dizzy at the thought of a two metres tall woman towering over you.
You noticed that she had picked “Unspecified” for the monthly income. You weren’t sure what that meant exactly. Was she wary about sharing her income? Strange, given the kind of app you were on. Or perhaps she was old money. She did look wealthy, the kind of woman who would have grown up in a rich family and inherited it all.
She had listed a few of her interests in her bio. Art, luxury fashion and haute couture, feminism. There was a single sentence written underneath, one that had your breath hitch in your throat.
“I call myself a hedonist, I seek utmost pleasure in everything I do.”
And that was enough to have you hooked. You didn’t care about the other thousands of profiles on the website anymore. You only cared about her. Larissa, her sapphire eyes and crimson lips, her hedonistic lifestyle and promise of utmost pleasure, and most importantly - her money.
You clicked on the little heart next to her profile picture, like your friend had told you to do. Now you were supposed to wait and see if the woman would like your profile in return. You could have sent a private message straight away, but your friend said it was better not to, it would make you look too desperate. I am desperate, you thought.
It was only hours later, when you were freshly out of the shower and about to get into bed, that your phone pinged and you quickly grabbed it to check the notification.
Larissa liked you back! The start of a beautiful story?
You stared at the notification for a minute, what were you supposed to do now that she had actually liked you back? You weren’t even expecting to get that far when you signed up.
You sat down in bed still wrapped in your towel and took a deep breath. How were you even supposed to engage in a conversation with a woman like her?
Your fingers hovered over the keyboard for a while. Everything you could think of sounded lame and you even considered calling your friend for some advice but it would have just been embarrassing.
You: Hi there! I came across your profile and was very intrigued by your sophistication and the way you described yourself. How has your day been?
That wasn’t too bad. At least you hadn’t sent a cheesy pickup line.
The little “seen” quickly appeared under your message and you bit your lip in anticipation.
Larissa: Good evening! Thank you for reaching out. My day's been quite busy with work, but I'm always up for interesting conversations. How was yours?
Okay, she had answered. She had liked you back and she had answered. Great, it was great.
You: I'm glad you're taking the time to chat. My day's been mostly filled with classes and hanging out with my friends, a normal day in the life of a college student haha. What do you do for work?
Larissa: I’d rather keep my work private, at least for now. But I promise I’m not doing anything illegal! College student, what do you study?
Well, that was a bit strange, although you could see why someone wouldn’t want to share their work field on this kind of app, there was no doubt those arrangements could ruin some people’s lives.
You: Sure, no worries! I study marketing. It’s not always easy but I enjoy it for the most part. I’m really curious about what brings you to this app?
The message was read almost instantly but it took the woman a few minutes to answer. Was she hesitant? Searching for the right words?
Larissa: I appreciate your curiosity. I'm mostly looking for a mutually beneficial arrangement where we can both enjoy each other's company and experiences. What about you? What are you looking for on here?
A mutually beneficial arrangement, that was certainly one eloquent way to put it.
Larissa: I'm seeking someone who can support me as I navigate my studies. I live on my own and have a job on the side but it’s getting really hard to finance everything alone. Plus, I think having someone older in my life, someone with more experience, could only be beneficial. It’s all about benefits and enjoying the finer things, isn’t it?
Larissa: It is! I suppose it’s the main reason why so many young women are on this app. Tell me, what do you enjoy doing in your free time?
You: Well, I honestly don’t really get much free time. But I like to sit down with a nice book whenever I can. I enjoy going for walks and I could spend hours in the kitchen cooking and baking. What about you? Any favourite ways to unwind?
Larissa: I don’t get much free time either if I’m being honest. I’m a busy woman. I do enjoy sitting by the fireplace with a book and a glass of red, one of life’s simple pleasures. I love exploring art galleries, trying out new restaurants and I sometimes, although very rarely, indulge in spa retreats.
Spa retreats? These things cost a fortune! You were lucky if you could indulge yourself in a night out with your friends!
The two of you kept exchanging for a while. You learnt that Larissa was British, that she had moved over here for her studies. She loved travelling, had been to many places around Europe and was a big fan of French cuisine. She felt like the kind of woman you could listen to for hours without ever getting bored.
It was getting late, your eyes were practically closing themselves and you knew you would be absolutely exhausted in the morning, but you didn’t want the conversation to end.
You had been talking for nearly two hours when the woman asked if you had ever dined at Ambrosia, a restaurant way out of the centre of Jericho. You snorted loudly as you searched the restaurant on Google and realised it was a gastronomic one. Did she really think you could afford that kind of place?
You: No, I’ve never been there. But I’ve just googled it and it looks like a nice place!
Larissa: It’s my favourite restaurant in Jericho, I think I must have tried everything on the menu by now. Would you like to join me there for dinner, let’s say on Saturday night?
Saturday night? You quickly checked your schedule, you were working at the bar that day.
You: I would love to, I really would love to, but I’m working that day and I can’t miss a shift…
Larissa: If it’s about the money, you don’t need to worry. Call your work tomorrow, let them know they will need to find someone to fill in for you on Saturday.
You swallowed thickly. What if this was some joke? What if you showed up at the restaurant and she wasn’t there? You would miss your shift, and lose money for nothing. But if she did show up…
You: Fine, I’ll call in the morning. What time should we meet at the restaurant?
Larissa: 6.30 pm? If you give me your address I will have a car sent for you. However, I understand if you feel wary about giving that kind of information to a stranger.
You did feel more than wary about giving her your address. For all you knew it could be some creep hiding behind that profile. But if you didn’t take the leap, you might miss a great opportunity. So you did it, you sent Larissa your address and thanked her for wanting to send a car.
Larissa: Thank you, darling. The car will pick you up at 6. I should probably let you get to bed now, I wouldn’t want you to fall asleep during one of your classes. Thank you again for reaching out, it’s refreshing to connect with you.
You: Thank you, Larissa. Likewise, I enjoyed our conversation. See you on Saturday!
You closed the app and took a deep breath. You were insane, absolutely deranged. Who in their right mind would agree to something like this so quickly? You groaned and pulled the duvet over your head. You’d think about this later, all you wanted at that moment was to sleep.
-
Saturday couldn’t come quickly enough. Your friend had asked you if you’d had any luck on the app yet and you lied, telling her that no one seemed interested in you yet. Maybe you would tell her about your meeting with Rissa once it’d be done. Maybe.
You had exchanged a few more messages with Larissa the next day, just to keep in touch and let her know that you were looking forward to meeting her, and so was she.
The doorbell of your flat ringing woke you up early on Saturday morning. You quickly threw on some pyjamas and went to open, your eyebrows shooting up when the courier handed you a big cardboard box.
“What the hell?” You whispered to yourself as you placed the box down on your coffee table.
You grabbed a knife from the kitchen drawer and carefully cut the tape, holding your breath as you opened the box. There was a small note on top of something wrapped in gold tissue paper.
I picked you an outfit for tonight, I had to guess your size using your pictures but I’m pretty certain it will fit. I suggest wearing a pair of black heels with it. See you tonight, darling.
-Larissa
You had to read the notes a few times to make sure you weren’t just making things up. She had picked you an outfit, really? Did she think you couldn’t dress up on your own? Well, to be fair you weren’t sure you had anything chic enough in your wardrobe, but still.
You carefully opened the tissue paper and your breath hitched as you unfolded the black slip dress that she had picked for you. The silk fabric felt incredibly soft under your fingertips and the lace trim on the neckline was beautiful.
“Simone Rocha.” You read the tag out loud. The name did ring a bell somewhere in your mind, was that a designer dress? Well, at least now you knew the woman was serious about taking you out for dinner tonight.
You were about to close the box when you noticed there was something else in there. You picked it up, eyes growing wide at the sight of a burgundy thong. It was beautiful. Made out of lace and embroidered with floral details, it probably cost more than your whole underwear drawer.
You bit your lip looking at the two items of clothing in your hands. Maybe you could get used to this lifestyle.
-
The car sent by Larissa arrived at your place at 6 pm sharp. You quickly put on your heels, fixed your lipstick, and took a last look at yourself in the mirror. The dress fitted you like a glove and you had rarely felt that beautiful in a piece of clothing, you looked expensive.
Hundreds of thoughts were rushing through your brain as you sat in the back of the car and absentmindedly looked outside the window.
And suddenly it hit you - would Larissa be expecting sex from you? Your eyes widened at the possibility. You had not talked about this. Sure, the woman had said she wanted someone to spend time with, but spending time with someone could mean a lot of things!
You were almost thinking about changing your mind and going home when the car pulled over and the driver let you know that you’d reached your destination. You took a look at the building outside and swallowed thickly. There was no going back now.
You thanked the driver and stepped outside, taking a deep breath of fresh air. You were halfway to the restaurant door when you heard your name being called, causing you to spin on your heels.
“Larissa?” You asked as your eyes landed on the woman walking towards you. She looked just like her picture - tall, elegant, beautiful.
“Yes!” She smiled and nodded.
Noticing that she looked you up and down, you allowed yourself to do the same. She was wearing an emerald fitted dress that perfectly hugged her waist and hips. Her legs had to be the longest you’d ever seen, they seemed to go on and on until you finally reached the silver heels that were on her feet.
“It’s nice to meet you.” You smiled back, feeling a bit awkward and not knowing what to say.
“Likewise.” Larissa answered and pulled the door open to let you in, her hand falling on the small of your back as she followed you inside.
Everything inside the restaurant reeked of wealth. The high ceiling, the polished wood floor and the leather seats. You were out of place and you felt like everyone around you knew it.
“Miss Weems, good evening!” A waiter flashed the woman a bright smile. “Your usual table?”
“Good evening, Adam. Yes please, the usual.” Larissa nodded and her hand on the small of your back gently pushed you, signalling for you to follow the waiter.
You sat down at the table and could immediately tell why it was Larissa’s favourite table. It was at the back of the restaurant, in a quieter space, and it had a perfect view of all the other tables.
The waiter brought the menu almost immediately and made a few suggestions as he poured two glasses of water. You could feel the older woman staring at you as you opened the menu and flipped through the pages. Everything was expensive, a whole three-course meal in this place would cost as much as your biweekly grocery budget. It was insane.
“Anything tempting you?” Larissa smirked, a strange glint in her eye.
“Um…Yes, yes there is a few things that sound really good.” You nodded and pushed an awkward smile.
“The dress suits you perfectly. You picked the perfect shoes to go with it.”
A blush crept up your cheeks hearing the compliments and you pushed out a shy “thank you”.
“Are you wearing everything that I picked?” Larissa asked, her head slightly tilting to the side.
Her eyes briefly dropped to your chest - no bra, that was the right choice for this kind of dress. Larissa was pleasantly surprised. She had purposefully chosen not to include a bra in the package but she wasn’t sure if you’d wear one of your own.
“Yes,” Your cheeks turned a deep red, not far from the colour of the thong you were wearing. “I’m wearing everything you picked. Thank you, by the way, I loved your selection.”
Larissa’s nostrils flared and she let out a satisfied hum, looking up when Adam reappeared by your table.
Larissa went first, there were far too many French words in her order for you to understand properly, but you enjoyed hearing her accent. It was like honey dripping from her lips. When you snapped out of your thoughts, the waiter was looking down at you expectantly. You opened your mouth to place your order only to be cut off by the tall woman’s voice.
“She will have the seared foie gras as an entrée, followed by the filet mignon - medium rare - with grilled asparagus, and the passion fruit mousse for dessert.” Larissa said, her sapphire eyes looking at you above the menu.
Your mouth dropped open. First, she had picked your whole outfit down to your panties, and now this. I want control, she had told you in one of her messages. You hadn’t really understood what it meant at that time, but you did now. You would never admit how turned on you were as you closed your menu and handed it back to the waiter who gave a polite nod and walked away from your table.
“You’re staring, darling.” Larissa pointed out, making you close your mouth and look away for a second.
“Sorry, I-“
“You weren’t expecting that?”
“Yeah…”
Larissa let out a soft chuckle and reached out, crimson nails taking hold of your chin to make you look at her.
“When we meet, if we meet again, I would like to be in charge of those things.” She simply said.
“In control, you mean?”
The woman’s nostrils flared again and she gave a small nod.
“Yes, in control. I do enjoy knowing you’re wearing something that I picked for you, that you will be tasting what I want you to taste.”
There was something almost erotic in the way she said it, something that sent a shiver down your spine and had your eyes dropping to the woman’s lips, watching them curve in a smirk.
“I wanted to ask-“ You mustered the courage to say. “If you would be expecting…more than just my company.”
“Sex?” The word sinfully rolled from her tongue.
“Yes.” You let out in a whisper.
“Would you like to have sex with me?”
Maybe.
“No.” It instinctively slipped from your mouth. “This is not the kind of arrangement I’m looking for.”
“Well, then I’m not expecting sex from you, no.” Larissa simply answered. She seemed sincere, like she really had not been expecting anything more than your company.
What if you had said yes, though? Would she have sex with you if you ever changed your mind? You swallowed thickly at the thought and picked up your glass, taking a couple of sips of water.
Larissa asked about your day and if you could explain what your studies consisted of, which you happily did. You told her about economics, and how you had learnt about analysing consumers and competitors. You were sure that it was boring, having to listen to these things when you weren’t involved in marketing, and yet Larissa’s eyes never left you. She gave a nod here and there, and asked more questions when something wasn’t fully clear to her. She seemed genuinely interested in you, and it felt nice.
“Thank you, Adam.” Larissa smiled when the entrées were placed on the table.
You looked down at your plate, it was beautifully presented and smelled incredible. What was it again?
“Seared foie gras,” Larissa said as if she could read your mind. “Enjoy, darling.”
“Thank you, enjoy!” You answered and picked up your fork to try the foie gras. You remembered having tasted it once, years ago at a wedding. But it didn’t taste this good in your memory.
Larissa watched your every move. She watched you push the fork inside your mouth, how you closed your eyes when the food filled your tastebuds. The foie gras was exquisite, the woman knew it, and she relished in the pleased hum that escaped you.
“What do you think?” She said, eager to hear your thoughts.
“It’s delicious, thank you for picking it.” You answered honestly, causing Larissa to let out a shuddering breath. Was she getting off on this?
The rest of the meal went smoothly. Larissa seemed determined to keep most of her life private, only answering a couple of your questions, often with well-thought answers that wouldn’t give out too much. It seemed like she enjoyed hearing you talk about yourself, though, for she asked you question after question throughout the evening.
“Thank you for tonight, Larissa.” You said when the two of you walked out of the restaurant. She had paid for the whole bill and, even though you had expected it, it still brought a blush to your cheeks.
She wrapped her arm around your shoulder and pulled you closer against her, walking with you towards her car. She had convinced you to let her drive you back to your flat, although it hadn’t taken much for you to agree to it.
You sat down in the passenger seat of her Chevrolet and stayed quiet as Larissa turned on the engine and drove away from the restaurant. A silence fell between you, it was a bit uncomfortable until the older woman turned the radio on and a familiar new wave song filled the car.
Larissa softly hummed along to the tune and her hand moved to rest on your leg, just above your knee, her thumb soothingly rubbing your skin. You didn’t think you would love it as much as you did, but her hand was warm against your flesh and it simply felt right.
“I think we’ve arrived.” Larissa said as she pulled over in front of your flat.
“Mm? Oh, yeah, yes!” You nodded taking a look outside. You had been lost in your thoughts for the entirety of the ride.
Larissa leaned over and pulled something from the glove compartment before handing it to you. It was a small golden envelope with your initials handwritten on it.
“For your missed shift.” She smiled and placed the envelope in your hand.
“Thank you.”
“Mhm. Now go, get some rest.” She purred. “I will text you later.”
“Goodnight, Larissa.” You bit your lip, hesitating for a second before eventually placing a kiss on the woman’s cheek.
“Goodnight, darling.” She squeezed your thigh and watched you step out of her car, waiting until you were inside the building before she drove away.
You closed the door behind yourself and let out a breath you didn’t know you had been holding. It had gone…surprisingly well. Larissa was truly charming, she was intelligent, eloquent, and wealthy. And she was breathtakingly beautiful.
You stepped out of your heels and walked through your flat, dropping the envelope on the kitchen counter before you made your way to the bathroom for a well-deserved shower.
Thoughts of the older women flooded your mind as soon as you stepped under the hot water jet. Was she home already? What was she doing? Had she enjoyed her evening? You were pretty sure that she had. More than once you had caught her pupils dilating as you thanked her for what she had picked for you, whether it was the food or the clothing. Was she thinking about you right now like you were thinking about her?
Would you like to have sex with me? - her voice echoed through your mind and you whined, dropping your hand between your legs. There was a sense of urgency in the way you fucked yourself as you thought of Larissa being in control of you, your food, your outfit - God, you’d probably let her take control of your whole being if she asked for it.
“Fuck- Larissa!” Her name rolled from your tongue as you reached your climax, leaving you panting heavily against the shower wall. It was depraved, you thought, fucking yourself thinking of a woman you had just met.
The same thought crossed Larissa’s mind as she slowly pulled her fingers out of herself, pushing them between her lips to lick them clean. It was depraved, but you had looked so good in the dress she’d picked for you and you had been so thankful all night long.
The tall woman opened a kitchen drawer, pulled a cigarette out of it, and lit it while she poured herself a glass of red with her other hand. It usually was either one or the other, but tonight she really needed both. Larissa was hooked, she couldn’t help herself, she loved taking care of a pretty thing.
You grabbed the envelope from the counter on your way to bed, opening it once you had settled down under the duvet. Two hundred dollar bills fell on your lap, making your eyes widen. This was almost double what you’d have made for your shift tonight. You bit your lip and put the money back into the envelope before shoving it inside your bedside table. Maybe you could get used to this, spending time with a beautiful woman and being paid for it. What was that thing she said? Ah, yes, to seek utmost pleasure.
———————————————————————
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doobea · 6 months
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WHEN THE SUN RISES - SAE ITOSHI
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synopsis: You have doubts about your relationship. Sae provides reassurance.
contents: early established relationship, gn!reader, fluff, reader is a tad insecure, mentions of other couples and pda, talks about all things mushy with love word count: 1.1K a/n: waaahh cant believe i didn't post anything for my husband on his birthday im so terrible - this is something short and sweet ;-; i haven't posted anything in a bit bc I've been so tired lately LOL
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You have doubts. 
Doubts about your work performance, test scores, your friendships, and sometimes the future — you know, the less important things. 
Your least favorite doubts are the ones about you and Sae. 
He’s not a bad boyfriend by any means. You’ve been dating each other for a while now, just shy of six months, and it’s been going well. Like any other college couple, you spend your free time together either marathoning a shitty reality TV show, studying, or eating at the local diners near campus once in a while for a ‘fancy’ burger and pizza date night (which Sae hates, by the way, but he goes because there’s nothing better around). You don’t blame him for these doubts because it’s just the way he is. You’ve always known this, along with everyone else around you. 
“Itoshi Sae? Yeah, he’s pretty cold and blunt.” They’d say in a hushed whisper. 
Another would agree, followed by an exaggerated shiver. “I heard even professors are scared of him.”
They’re annoying rumors and passing comments you've gotten somewhat used to. So you don’t blame the gossipers at your school either. Who you do blame are all the couples you would see, whether it’d be at school, at the grocery store, and sometimes even your own parents. Seeing things like holding hands, hugging, and even kissing each other goodbye sets something weird off in your chest.
And, well, you’ve known Sae for a while. You know that maybe he isn’t the type to be comfortable with these things, especially in public. And maybe you’re not going to guilt trip him into doing things that are out of his ordinary. But here’s the problem.
You do want to experience all of it.
“Sae?”
“Hm?”
“Do you like me?”
Your question throws him off just a tiny bit. He fumbles slightly with his flow of writing before catching himself and throws you a questioning look from across the table. 
It’s the midterm season so every floor at the university’s library is packed. All but the top floor, which is mainly reserved for graduate students, who are rarely even on-site. So you two manage to snag a booth in the corner by the bathrooms and water fountain. You’ve been studying for about two hours straight and the thought of going over the rules of the Krebs cycle again haunts you so you let your doubts take over. Hence, why you blurted out the question that’s been burning on your mind for the past week. 
“I do, why do you ask?” He doesn’t sound bothered by it, so you take that as a good sign.
But how do you go about asking him to show that? Maybe asking upfront would be too demanding right now. You decide to dance around the subject a little more.
There’s a moment in silence, your eyebrows creased in deep thought before you finally speak, voice clumsy and almost rough sounding. “When did you realize you liked me?”
He answers without missing a beat, eyes never leaving his notebook. “Dunno.”
Well, that wasn’t the answer you were expecting. 
“Huh?”
“What?” Sae breaks his focus and stares at you, as if you were the one who had said something weird. “You asked and I answered.”
“You have to explain with that sorta question, you know?”
In just the tiniest of motions, Sae frowns. He’s holding his breath for a few seconds in preparation and his eyes soften. “I’m not sure when I fell in love with you.”
Woah—wait love? This is also not what you were expecting out of this conversation either. Is it too late to go back to studying now?
Sae picks up the worried look on your face and manages a soft chuckle. “You know when the sun rises?”
You’re patting your face with your hands now, hoping to eliminate the burn on your cheeks. The sweat forming in your palms doesn’t help at all. And, frankly, you’re confused by his question. “Um, between six and seven?”
“Well, yeah,” he laughs again and you’re not sure if that was the answer he was looking for. “But it always rises, right?”
“Right,” you say slowly, still confused by what he’s trying to get at.
“I’m not sure when I fell in love but whenever the sun rises, it reminds me of you,” Sae explains with a leveled expression, ignoring the little surprised squeaks from your direction. “It’s been like that for a while now and brings me comfort whenever I do wake up early to see it rising.”
“Did you get that line from a K-drama or something?”
He rolls his eyes and fake scoffs. “Thought you wanted an explanation?”
“Well,” you bite back a giggle and continue, “you never struck me as a metaphor type of guy.”
“And you never struck me as the jealous type.” 
You grow hotter because wow guess you haven’t been that great at hiding away your feelings—or maybe your boyfriend is just that good at being perceptive as he is being a top honor student. “Was it that obvious?”
“When you’re looking at other couples and grumbling right after then yeah, it’s pretty obvious.” Sae’s tone doesn’t carry any ounce of tease and he gives you a fond look. It makes you feel slightly guilty and embarrassed. 
You shrink deeper into the booth, holding your textbook up to your face. “Sorry…”
The seat next to you dips and a familiar pair of hands gently snatches the book away from you, revealing Sae’s rare soft expression again. 
“Don’t be,” He reaches over to ruffle your hair before moving his laptop and notebook over to your side. “Plus, you shouldn’t worry that much, I’ll always be with you.”
A pause and then you decide to blurt out your other burning question because things are already out in the open at this point. “Would it be alright if we start doing more couple-ly things together?” 
“Mhm,” he’s about to dive back into studying but stops, humming in thought. “What should we do more?”
“Well, aside from me,” Sae deadpans and you straighten your posture. “Sorry, sorry, what I meant to say is I guess more PDA? Holding hands would be a good start.”
“Okay,” He says quietly and drops his pen, carefully interlacing his fingers with yours.  
Sae’s hands are warm, maybe even sweaty if you’re not mistaken. You look up and oh — his cheeks have the tiniest amount of red on them. Probably no different from the resurgence of warmth you’re currently feeling too.
“Better?” Sae asks and squeezes your hand.
“Yeah, better.” You squeeze back. 
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gremlingottoosilly · 4 months
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Under the Christmas tree [dark!141 x fem!Reader] (Secret Santa fic)
Secret Santa gift for @crash-and-live 141 had a wonderful time taking their combat medic to be their captive barracks bunny instead. Now, the Sergeants have decided you will make a wonderful gift for their COs. CW and Tags: Dub-con, poly!141, inappropriate celebration of Christmas, power imbalance, bondage, slight BDSM.
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Gaz was always an expert on knots. 
Fancy little ribbons and bows – not so much. He prides himself on being suspiciously quick to adapt to the changing environment, yes, but learning how to tie bows when your little captive is acting just a tad bit dismissive towards the whole idea is…hard. Not as hard as hanging down the rope on a moving helicopter, but…
— Come, luv. Stop strugglin’ 
He smiles, all teeth and no lies, when you – his favorite medic, the best thing ever happening to this bloody team – started meowling something about the circulation and cutting off the bloodstream and how you don’t exactly like not only being held in the basement of the base but also being tied up…he looks at you and just knows he can’t resist booping you on the nose, kissing your perfect fuckin cheeks while Soap already has his hands in your hair, gently brushing it to put even more ribbons and bows. Red, just like on a Christmax gift. 
You’re a bloody gift. 
— I ken ye don’t like sittin’ like this, but Lt needs pick me up, aye? 
Soap smiles when you struggle just a bit more, your tied hands brushing against his stomach as you slowly buck your hips back. Trying to get just a tiny bit of stimulation, sneaky little lass – this is why he loves you, so smart and so adorably dumb at the same time. The best thing that ever happened to them is that you still act like you don’t enjoy being their shared chewing toy. They can agree it’s just a bit of a stretch from your previous working environment but hell, at least you’re not being shot at. Johnny’s hand gently moves from your head to your neck, adjusting the little red bow he made from the ribbons. They tried so hard to find the softest ever ribbons without a sharp edge and material that could cut off the circulation – even though Kyle was still doing his favorite knots that rendered you absolutely defenseless. You lick your lips and try to rock from side to side, making the ribbons a bit more loose – it doesn’t work, of course. Not like your team ever wanted you to have a say in their perverse desires, right? 
You fell into the Stockholm syndrome quite easily, especially since they were so stuck on always respecting your wishes(except for letting you out, of course) and never forcing anything too harsh…up until now, apparently. Making sure you’re on your best behavior because it’s Christmas, they have a small table set up – beer, whiskey, some snacks that you naively put on because you’re still not allowed to cook, and they don’t really care for home-cooked meals – and your shaking form, twisted in a somewhat sexy pose all because they needed a little Christmas present for their CO’s. 
Gaz brushes his hand on your tummy, gently pushing it down – you were prepared, of course, so much lube was out in your glossy folds, with Soap’s mouth buried deep between your legs, until you felt you’re going to pass out from the sheer amount of orgasm he was edging out of you. There is a reason why Johnny isn’t allowed to eat you out when Ghost isn’t around – his self-control is non-existent when push comes to your cunt and the tongue he can shove in. 
You feel like you’re going to burst when you finally hear the door opening. When you finally hear Captain – his tired, gruff voice, the way Ghost’s jacket silently hits the ground as they start to undress. Usually, you’re made to greet them with kisses and your soft lips on their cocks if they feel particularly tired. Usually, you’re made to wait for them in the bedroom, with their sergeants gently playing with you because, of course, you’re the property of all four of them, no matter the power dynamic. 
Nothing is usual now – you’re laying under a Christmas tree, naked and aroused, your pussy is all puffy and swollen from Soap’s tongue, your body is tied up with red ribbons Gaz was using. You want to be good for them, and so you lay here, hoping your obedience will be enough for a few more climaxes. Ghost is the first to put his hands on you. 
Kneading your breasts, gently forcing his rough fingers on your exposed nipples, you’re so sweet for him, so perfect, laid out like a beautiful gift – he can only groan in arousal as he slowly pushes the ribbons from your chest, taking in the view of your hardened buds and bite marks – evidence of Kyle taking his mark while he was tying you up. You might have been apprehensive about the whole idea, but you’re playing the role of a gift perfectly – just like you should. 
— Bloody hell, love. So pretty for us. 
— She was such a good girl for us, Lt. Didnae even resisted much. ~ — Is that right, sweetheart? 
You can only nod, your mouth stuffed with a pretty gag – you’re drooling all around it, looking fucking adorable as you try and look as harmless as possible. No reason to provoke them now when they already made it clear just how many orgasms they are going to take from you tonight. 
Ghost smiles under his mask, his hands moving to play with your lower tummy, squeezing the soft flesh and teasing your folds – you’re soft and pliable for them, spread out like a perfect toy. The most desirable thing they could ever find under a Christmas tree.
Price caresses your face with a softness you didn’t know a man of his position could have. He kisses you, and his whiskers tickle your soft skin – you aren’t sure if you can even handle him being so damn gentle about everything. He laughs as you try to wiggle out of Ghost’s grasp, their hands laying on your body – bruises and marks are scattered across your skin, making you the perfect canvas. Gosh, you’re beautiful – John doesn’t even know what they did to deserve such a little treat. — Such a pretty display for us, eh? 
— Sergeants outdid themselves this time. 
— You bet they did. Are you goin’ to behave for us, love? 
Price smiles when you whimper, spreading your legs like a pretty toy. Ghost already pushing you to the ground, forcing his way in between your thighs – you’re so open for them, vulnerable to the tip of his cock pressing in your folds already. Soap did a good job eating you out, even Simon’s cock won’t be too much – not after the way Gaz was spreading you on three of his fingers, smiling with each of your little attempts at moans. You know the night is going to be long.
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johnpriceslamb · 4 months
Note
Saw your requests were opened so here is just something I’ve been thinking about !
Arthur Morgan getting sweets/gifts and all from a secret admirer. Girlie is a sneaky one too. Her goal is to just see him be a bit happier because she finds him cute and handsome.
No need to do this! Just think it’s a cute idea.
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𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐔𝐑 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐆𝐀𝐍 𝐗 𝐅𝐄𝐌! 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑
˚₊‧꒰ You notice the way his gaze softens entirely when he looks at you. You shyly smile at him. To which he smiles back, ever so faintly. ꒱ ‧₊˚
BEFORE YOU PROCEED ! hyper-feminine! reader . fem! reader . reader is implied to be physically shorter than characters mentioned below . love sick Arthur . 1.2k words . Very quick mention of wlw Sadie . ok yes ik that teddy bears were originally made in the 1900s but this story says OTHERWISE !!
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A small, bow-tipped teddy bear rests upon his bed roll.
Arthur was amused to say the least at the sight of the miniscule, stuffed version of a bear sitting quite cutely on the fabrics he slept on. This was the third time he's been gifted a little decorative trinket from goodness knows who. First time, a small pink tulip with a little bow tied at the start of its stem, the second time- a tiny sweet wrapped like a ribbon encasing something.
At first, he genuinely thought this was a sick prank played by one of the men to piss him off even further to the max. But with the constant treats he's been getting, Arthur comes to a conclusion that he has a secret admirer.
Each item he’s been kindly offered had a little correlation, he noticed. A bow.
He instantly knew it was from one of the ladies in the gang, since… well, no cowpoke would ever give him anything so delicate, better yet gifts bow-tipped in pink.
“— Arthur?”
A soft, dainty voice was heard from behind which pulled him away from his thoughts. The grizzled man turns his head slightly, away from the small teddy on his bed and to the young lady near the entrance of his tent.
You notice the way his gaze softens entirely when he looks at you. You shyly smile at him. To which he smiles back, ever so faintly.
It was obvious amongst everyone that he’s grown to have a soft spot amongst the women in camp- specially you. How his hand rests upon the small of your back to guide you away from trouble, or the way he visibly becomes stressed at the rumours of you away from camp to visit a shop in a town nearby. The only time he relaxes completely is when he hears that squeal of yours when coming back, showing off the jewellery or such you bought to the other ladies.
In your hands rests a small bowl of stew, the scent of it makes him light up just a bit.
“..F’ me?” He asks— almost shyly.
“Mhm,” you nod sweetly, offering it to him. You can’t help the faint giddiness at the sight of the tulip you secretly gifted him in a little glass of water, which rested near the ledge of his bed.
“You didn’t have to.” His large hand engulfs yours in the process of taking it, “Thank ya kindly, sweetheart.”
“Anything for you,” You give him a toothy smile. He looks at your face for a tad bit too long, before reluctantly glancing away with a deep hum.
A ghost of a cheeky smile etches on your face. You feign curiosity, peaking over his shoulder to peer at the small bear on his bed.
He notices your curious gaze. “Was a gift, if you were wonderin’.”
“Oh? by who?” Innocence feigns in your eyes. Cheeky girl.
Wispy lashes tinker softly as he eats a spoonful of the food you brought with a soft grunt at the end, indicating that the food was rich with flavour he had taken a liking to.
He hesitates for a moment, before answering. “I uh.. I don’t know.”
“…You don’t know?” You quirk a brow, giggling softly.
Something about that giggle makes his knees buckle.
“Yeah. That’s the thing— I don’t know,” He grumbles, “Been gettin’ gifts from someone in the gang. ‘S like I got some secret admirer or sumthin’.”
The light pink bow in your hair makes his eyes squint a bit.
“May I see?” You ask with a small smile.
“Go ‘head.” He gives you full permission with a slight nod to his head, the hat he adorned concealing those blue eyes.
You toddle to his bed, sitting oh-so prettily near the edge. The teddy bear was now in your lap, as you played with it for a bit. You rub its ears with the pads of your thumb and index finger.
He has a faint grin at the sweet sight.
“You gonna name it?” You ask.
“I ain’t a child,” He grunts, only to tighten his lips at the way your face meekly droops at his comment. He lets out a soft sigh, pondering for a moment.
“I dunno.. Uh.. Coco?”
“Coco?” You brighten up at the interesting name. He sees the way your smile widens at the choice of title, happy he indulged in your silly sweetness. You coo out a little ‘hi, Coco’ to the stuffie as if it was alive
Damnit, you were far too cute. He has to tilt his head down a bit to the floor so you wouldn’t see the way his temples became a soft red colour.
“Coco is so, so cute!” You prattle, taking one of his little limbs and moving it side to side to symbolise the teddy waving at him.
“Mmhm. It’d be nice to know who’d be giving me these things, so I could thank em properly. I got this.. underlyin’ sense of guilt for not being able to say thanks.”
You smile at his words. Arthur was a gentleman to women, and you were no exception to his gentle behaviour. A soft flicker in your doe eyes was apparent. Perhaps from the light, or from the way your heart melts at his sincerity. No man could compare to him in your eyes.
It takes you a bit to reply. “You’re sweet, y’know that?”
He takes one more spoonful of the stew.
“I ain’t, sweetheart.”
⋆˚����˖°
Arthur was gone. Gone from camp and away within the everlasting greens with another— probably Charles to go hunting for food. Food supply was running low as of now- which you made a mental note to buy some food if you ever went back to town, that is.
The perfect time to give him his little gift.
You cheekily look left and right.
Delicate flat-soles heels clicked gently on the grass beneath, tip-toeing towards his tent. With the gentle sounds of ruffled fabrics coming from your sleeves leads to the slight rustle of the wrapped-up sweet that was placed gently on his bed.
You look around to see if anyone was close by, only to toddle away sneakily- albeit a bit clumsily.
Just a few hours later, you see his figure coming back to camp, lazily hunched on his horse with game behind him. You see Charles behind on his horse— Taima. Pretty thing she was, very friendly to you.
You can’t help but admire the two men whom stroll in with said game lurched over their shoulders as they approached the area of the make-shift kitchen Mr. Pearson was lounging.
You tinker your long lashes, giving them a shy wave. You beam as they both return a wave, with Charles noticing first and giving a small nod in return as well as a faint smile.
The hunter whom adorned a feather earring was close to you, he took upon the role of a big-brother to you. You can’t help but admire him.
A nudge to Arthur’s arm gets his attention and immediately has a smile on his face as he catches a glance at your pixie-like figure from near by.
You turn around and leave the sight, probably to go help with some other chores.
Arthur’s eyes narrows a bit at the light pink coloured bow attached to the back of your head, seemingly pondering about something before going back to skinning the animal.
He feels like he knows who his little secret admirer is, but he won’t comment just yet.
⋆˚🐾˖°
He was a fool, but he wasn’t ignorant.
Each present he’s been given was obviously from a lady, someone with a good taste in perfume— considering that the teddy that he kindly received was laced with a sweet, feminine scent. Not to mention the light pink bow Coco had wrapped around his little neck.
He knew it wasn’t from Karen, she’s not quite interested in the colour pink nor did she enjoy stuffed animals.
It wasn’t Tilly either, she was more of a little sister to him, and she wasn’t a fan of sweets anyway.
Mary-Beth, perhaps? No.. That girl was smitten with the former O’driscoll member.
Abigail was taken, and Miss Grimshaw.. no way.
Sadie did not even come to his mind. He knew very well that the gunslinger would probably pick you over him in a heart beat.
All that was left was.. you.
Your acting skills were top-notch, he had to give you that. It took him almost an entire week to figure it out. Quite so did he question himself if it was you who bestowed these lovely trinkets to him- you acted so clueless when you first saw that teddy.
His blue eyes stare at the sweet that was placed on his bed. He looked like a fool, giddy feelings rushing up to his stomach as he picks up the small treat. It just had to be you.
He savours the taste of the dark chocolate candy, stuffing the wrapper in his pocket once he was done with it. The bitter-sweet flavour bursting in his tastebud once he chewed on it.
Should he confront you? He’s not sure himself. Confrontation wasn’t the best when it came to you, he’d guess that you’d probably stammer like a little bunny and squeak away.
He turns his head just a bit— and there you were, sly smile with that sweet little dimple that accentuated your bunny-like features. You were sat with the other ladies, mindlessly joining in their conversation as the eye contact you both held seemed like an eternity.
That dumb smile was on his face again.
It was you.
And he was glad it was you.
“Damn woman,” he grunts under his breath. It wasn’t in a derogatorive way, oh- absolutely not. He’s smitten. He’s quick on his feet, trudging up towards you from behind in a rapid pace. That damn smile you gave him got him feeling so shy.
You don’t expect the big smooch coming your way in the matter of seconds.
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angel-of-the-moons · 5 months
Text
Chocolates vs Aliens
Eddie/Venom x Pregnant!Fem!Reader
TW/CW: Fluff, details of pregnancy , childbirth mentions. Venom loves babies! This! Is! A hill! I will die on!
A/N: The winners of the poll! I'll do the Moon Boys next! Also okay its not a drabble but enjoy this hot word vomit asdfghjkl idk should I make a part 2??
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"SHE IS OUT OF CHOCOLATE?!" Venom's voice boomed inside his head.
"Relax, buddy, we can hit up the 7/11 down the street." Eddie scoffed, adjusting his wireless earbud. Thankfully it looked like he was on the phone, so he could talk freely to Venom without anyone thinking he was insane.
And well, he kind of was, a tiny bit.
Just a tad...
"BUT I CAN SMELL IT!" The symbiote whined childishly as Eddie scooped the frozen egg rolls into the wiry basket looped over his arms.
"Yeah yeah, I know. Mrs Chen could have eaten the last one, Vee. Just chill. How about some chocolate ice cream?" Eddie grinned at the pun.
"No! We always get brain freezes!" He entity huffed.
"Because you scarf down the whole tub in one go." Eddie chuckled.
Venom grumbled again, and a tendril snaked out from beneath Eddie's sweater and dropped a box of brownie mix into the basket. "Fine. I can settle with these."
"Whatever you say, love, but you're helping me bake the shit." The man shrugged in reply as he remembered to grab a carton of milk. He'd need some eggs, too... Well, at least his landlord let him move the chicken coop to the roof in exchange for some free eggs.
Those chickens were fat and spoiled, and Venom loved the little critters dearly, which Eddie always found humorous. Now, whenever Eddie made the joke of turning them into KFC, Venom would be aghast and headbutt him, citing that Sonny and Cher were his "babies".
He'd been talking like that a lot lately, Eddie realized. Venom apparently had a paternal streak in him. Eddie noticed that as well when Venom would find homeless kids or runaways, helping them and trying to seem as non-threatening as possible, even going as far as to change his fangs so they were blunt. (One of the kids assured him that was far creepier than the monster fangs, which made Eddie nearly keel over in laughter...)
"Deal." Venom purred happily, the tendril receding back to slip beneath Eddie's shirt and wrap around him like a hug.
"Alright, alright." Eddie chuckled, grabbing an extra box just in case as he walked around the shelves, sparing a glance at his phone to check the time.
"Eddie." Venom's voice said.
"What?" Eddie lifted his gaze, feeling Venom's haste flood him and put him on alert.
His eyes trailed the store until he landed on the checkout counter, where you were sitting. Not Mrs Chen, but cute, innocent, blissful you.
You were happily munching on a chocolate bar, one of the very ones Venom wanted. It would seem you had claimed it, eating the sugary morsel happily.
"Oh." Eddie mumbled.
He felt it as Venom seized control of his legs suddenly, sending him forward in jerking motions until he practically ran into the counter, making you jump in surprise.
"Oh! Sorry!" He smiled awkwardly, a faint blush to his cheeks.
'Venom, quit it! I'll get you chocolate later!' He said mentally to the alien inhabiting his body.
"No, Eddie. Wait."
"I, ah... Got a bit sidetracked and tripped over my feet." He added.
You smiled at him, "Oh, god. Yeah, I feel you. Lately it's like dragging my heels through wet cement." You chuckled.
Huh. You were... God, you were cute. He could tell even Venom thought so. With your cute fluffy turtleneck and your hair all done, your cheeks nice and rosy from the blush you'd applied.
Which... brought up the question.
"I've never seen you 'round here before." Eddie commented. "Mrs Chen is usually the only person I see in here..."
"Oh! I'm new in town, I live just down and street and she saw my situation and offered me a part-time here. I have a work from home job and everything, but ugh, just staying cooped up inside is so boring!" You say the last part with a groan.
"Damn, would've been nice if she offered me that job a couple years ago." Eddie chuckled.
You giggled a bit at him and looked at his basket, "Is that all for ya, hon?"
"Oh, yeah!" Eddie said, carefully organizing the things onto the glass counter. His eyes flicked to the candy bar you were still steadily breaking pieces off of.
"Bit of a sweet tooth, huh?" He teased.
"Ugh, god... lately? Yes! The craving for it has been absolute hell." You sigh exhaustedly. "Almost everything in my apartment is chocolate flavored or scented now!"
"... Cravings?" Eddie echoed, raising a thick brow.
"Okay, I know what you're thinking and no. It's not "that time of the month" like your brain is probably saying." You snort.
Eddie watches as your hand trails down to your midsection and you pat your belly beneath the plush fabric of your sweater, where a gentle swell stood out a bit more prominently as you smooth the fabric taut over your stomach.
"I just have a certain little jellybean who thinks they can dictate what mama wants to eat all the time. And apparently, chocolate is what's on the menu for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. And... in between." You chuckle.
"OH." Eddie and Venom thought in unison.
"That's why she smells like that!" Venom barked, realizing the underlying scent of chocolate on you was laced with something else. Hormones. He was picking up on those, too.
"Oh! Uh, congrats!" Eddie said, clearing his throat awkwardly. "I'm sure you and your, uh, partner are probably super happy, huh?"
"Oh, no, it's just me." You smiled with a hum, taking another little sweet square between your lips.
Eddie's brow furrowed. "What?"
"Okay, so I'm not gonna be rude, but I will explain." You snicker. You seemed infinitely patient and polite about the subject. Apparently this very thing must be a common occurrence with you, that random people must constantly ask this same question, and how tiring it surely must be to answer it again and again...
"No, I don't have a partner, husband, or anything. No daddy."
Eddie awkwardly pointed to your belly. "Then how did y'know... that get in there?"
Eddie controlled the flinch he wanted to make when Venom pinched him. "You did NOT just call her baby a THAT!"
"Yeah, yeah I know. But there's something everyone forgets, and that it doesn't always "take two to tango"." You smile at him again, ringing up his items with one hand, chocolate still clutched firmly in another.
"I decided that I wanted to be a mom. But I didn't want to just go out and get pregnant willy nilly. I have a good job, steady income. But I don't have time to date and there's always the concern that I'd be left a single parent if whoever I was with decided parenthood wasn't for them, y'know?"
Eddie nodded patiently as he and Venom listened to you with rapt attention.
"I went to a fertility clinic, did what the doctor said, then had my egg fertilized with a sperm donor. And then boom," You point to your belly. "Jellybean."
"Oh, that... Yeah okay I forget fertility clinics are a thing." Eddie laughed, shaking his head.
"Well I'm glad you're so open-minded about it!" You grin. "Most people judge me and go "oh your baby needs a father!" and the ever so classic "you don't even know who the father is?" line."
Eddie frowned, and he could tell even Venom was irritated on your behalf. "You don't need to have a partner or spouse to raise a baby. Seriously. What is this, the 1940s?"
"I knoooow!" You giggle again. "And besides! I can support me and my baby just fine, and I'm already happy and so far the pregnancy has been a breeze!"
Eddie could feel a tugging sensation from Venom. The symbiote was curious, and wanted to touch. But Eddie knew that was not only rude as hell, but to some people, socially unacceptable if you don't know the person or ask permission first.
"How uh, far along are you?"
"I just hit my second trimester." You chirp proudly, patting your belly. "The baby's tiny, but I'm finally showing, now."
"Ohhh." Eddie snapped his fingers. "Hence "jellybean", right?"
"Yes!" You laugh.
Eddie pulled out his card and swiped it to pay for the groceries. "It's a cute nickname. Have you thought of any names yet?"
Your brain did a record scratch, and Eddie could see the look on your face.
Nope. Not at all.
You hadn't thought of a damn one. Especially because you didn't know the sex of your baby yet.
"Uh...."
Eddie started snickering at your expression, "Ahhh. My bad." He shoots you a cocky grin, "If I can recommend a name, Eddie is a pretty strong one!"
"Weak." Venom mocked.
"Eddie?" You echo, blinking.
"Oh, don't listen to him, girl." Mrs Chen snorted as she walked up to you two, whacking Eddie with a rolled up newspaper. "This boy is nothing but trouble!"
Her words were jabbing, but not spoken without affection, so you could tell they had a history together.
"Ow! Hey!" Eddie pouted, rubbing the top of his head.
"Oh please, I'd need to shoot this out of a cannon to dent that hard head of yours!" She huffed with a smirk, crossing her arms.
She tilted her head and noticed the candy bar in your hand, and made the mental connection with Eddie and Venom. Riiiiiight. Venom needed chocolate. Mrs Chen tossed it to you when you started scrolling through your phone for door dash orders for chocolate cakes from local restaurants to sate your cravings.
"Oh, right. Sorry about your chocolate fix." Mrs Chen replied, her gum smacking softly. "Gave the lady one to help ease her stomach."
The flush to your cheeks made Eddie smile as you looked at the candy in your hand. "I'm sorry!" You sputtered.
"Hey, man, you got a baby in you. You can't exactly tell the little, uh.... eh. The little person they can't have it?" Eddie struggled. He wasn't sure how the whole cravings thing worked, honestly. Would you indeed cry if he didn't accept your offer? Would your baby get hungry? Was that a thing? He knew jack and shit about babies in general, man.
"Pff, moron."
'Parasite.'
"I AM NOT A PARASITE!"
"Oh, I know but uh..." You say, your eyelashes fluttering as you think, looking from Eddie to the bar in your hand. You decided to finish breaking off the pieces you were working on, and extend your hand giving the rest to Eddie. "Here! I'm good, if I need more I can nab some from the gas station down the street."
"Oh! Uh... I don't wanna, y'know. Take anything from you and your baby." Eddie said, waving his hands.
"Eddie, if you refuse to take it, she could cry." Mrs Chen teased. "You don't want to make a pregnant woman cry do you?"
Eddie's face was hilarious as panic started to bubble up within him as he looked from you, to your outstretched hand, to Mrs Chen, who stood as proud as can be at the chaos she had just sewn.
"Hey! I'm not that hormonal!" You retort to the older lady. But... you deflate a tiny bit. "...Okay, well not yet but still!"
Eddie was still going through the moral dilemma of accepting the kind gesture vs taking candy from a literal baby in somebody's womb.
Venom made the choice for him, extending our Eddie's hand and letting him take it.
"I, uh... Thanks." Eddie blabbered quickly.
"Now let's go home before you make an idiot out of us further." Venom cackled gleefully at the socially awkward situation.
Eddie grabbed the plastic bags and gave an awkward wave and a smile before skittering out of the store with his tail between his legs.
"Geez, he needs to get laid once in a while." Mrs Chen scoffed, going over to check inventory.
You barely had a moment to collect yourself, stopping before you laughed so hard you peed yourself.
That was the first time you and Eddie ever met. It would not be the last.
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Eddie shopped at Mrs Chen's place pretty regularly, her prices were easy on the wallet and she was close by to he and Venom's apartment.
You steadily built up a rapport with Eddie over the next two or three weeks. Venom was inexplicably drawn to you, wanting to constantly convince Eddie to touch your belly.
Eddie kept reminding him that it was frankly rude as shit to do that, and that hell, it would probably make you uncomfortable.
Not long after that, Eddie and Venom discovered--to Venom's utter glee--thay you lived in the same building, the apartment just above his. They found this out when Venom insisted on making sure you made it home after your shift at Mrs Chen's ended, knowing how vulnerable a pregnant lady looked to crooks and criminals.
Twice Venom caught and ate the brains of lowlifes who tried stalking you.
Venom, despite you not knowing of his existence, was fiercely protective of you. And... well he liked you. They liked you.
Eddie hated how quickly both he and Venom became infatuated with you, listening to you talk about your baby, your cravings... They could tell you were lonely despite your cheerful demeanor. Yes, Eddie and Venom had each other already, but they quickly thought about adding you to the mix.
But again, you didn't know about the alien slime monster living inside of Eddie. That subject would have to definitely wait...
He would check on you, leaning his head out his window on occasion to talk to you as you looked up, it brightened up the monotony of your at-home life in between work, asking about how you were feeling as your pregnancy developed. He even texted you lists of different baby names and their meanings to help you out!
When he first asked you out, you were floored. You've never met a man who was interested in a woman pregnant with somebody else's baby, before. You've heard about it sure, but... You were more surprised anyone was interested in you while pregnant with some guy's baby. Let alone your cute downstairs neighbor who apparently babied his pet chickens that were kept on the rooftop.
He even introduced you to them! You didn't hold them of course, for fear of bacteria, and chuckled as he furiously disinfected himself before even coming within three feet of you, all for you and your baby's health.
A man who was sweet, considerate, caring and he loves animals? Add the looks to that bill and that was a difference you were willing to pay. How was he still single?!
But... Well. That changed after your first date, and he was glad you accepted it all.
And it wasn't long after that (several weeks actually) you discovered he wasn't, in fact, single. He didn't have a girlfriend or anything but he certainly had a partner.
Said partner... was some kind of ooze-critter that lived inside of him. And you only found this out when you came home from a late night convenience store run for some triple chocolate chunk ice cream, walked into your apartment...
And saw him.
Venom, in his hulking form, stood awkwardly in your apartment, looking like a deer trapped in headlights when you flicked your lights back on, the ice cream in your bag forgotten.
As your door slowly swung closed due to angled flooring, you opened your mouth to scream.
Venom cut you off, his massive hands shooting up and he waved them, "DON'T SCREAM!"
You snapped your mouth shut, your teeth making an audible click as your heart hammered in your chest.
"We were worried! You weren't responding to our texts or when we knocked on your door?" His deep and rumbly voice growled out.
You shudder at the timbre of his voice, eyes never once leaving the rows of jagged fangs in his maw. You drop your plastic bag and step back, covering your belly--now very prominent as you were later in your term--protectively.
That seems to... upset him? He frowned, looking at the carpet as he lowered his hands, his large eyes narrowing as he carefully thought, trying to think of ways to alleviate the fear bubbling through you.
He took a slow step towards you, like you were a frightened animal caught in a trap that he had to be gentle with, lest you struggle or flail and get hurt.
"We were worried about you. We--" His head snapped to his left and he snarled. "Yes! "We"! You were worried, too! Don't try to say you weren't!"
You watch, in shock as he has essentially a one-sided argument with himself, getting exasperated, saying the word "love" and "dear" here and there.
You stayed, scared, until the ugly sensation of your nausea reared its ugly head and you dropped the plastic bag, literally shoving past this gigantic creature in a mad dash to your bathroom or you were gonna blow chunks right then and there.
You didn't even shut the door before you collapsed to your knees, hugging the bowl as you heaved the contents of your digestive system into the pearly white porcelain, leaving what could only be the Venom, the creature that supposedly stalked your city eating people, in your living room.
By the end of the nausea fit, your eyes were watery, your nose was runny and your face blotched with color, the whites of your eyes glassy from the strain. You felt lightheaded and dizzy as you rinsed your mouth with water right from the tap, gargling and spitting until the foul acidic taste went away.
You felt your now empty stomach growl and your first instinct was to go get food and eat again, to replenish the energy you just spent hurling everything you ate that day.
But then you remembered...
The big guy.
You didn't have any sort of object to wield as a weapon, so you merely sheepishly peeked around the corner, watching as the creature called Venom gingerly moved about your kitchen, things that looked like tentacles reaching out and grabbing a cup, some ice, and a can of ginger ale from your fridge and pour it into the cup; all the while making a sandwich. Nutella with your banana/mango spread. A favorite you'd started to enjoy in the past week.
But the only person you ever told that to was...
You froze when he turned around, locking eyes with you as he set the food on your breakfast island, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck.
"We... We know that you're probably hungry after... So we figured..." He said, gesturing vaguely to the food and drink in front of him.
"How do you know..." You breathed.
His colossal shoulders heave as he sighed, walking around the island and over to you, stopping just a mere few feet away.
"Promise not to be mad? Or scream?"
You weren't sure why in the hell he asked you that, but you felt already too far gone into shock to really argue. Plus, throwing up took all urges to scream from your poor sore throat.
So, you nodded.
"Okay."
You watched as the strange black goo peels back layer by slinking layer, until a man is revealed beneath.
But it's not just any man.
It's fucking Eddie. Your neighbor-turned-recent-boyfriend.
"You--!"
"We can explain! Just please, please don't be mad at us!" Eddie winced.
You felt another dizzy spell start to hit at this revelation. "How long--"
"A few years. Look, we planned on telling you. It's just... not tonight. When you didn't answer my texts or calls, I got worried and..." He sighed.
You watched as Venom's head moved out from behind Eddie's shoulder to peer at you, the thick black goo that made up the appendage holding his head up moving almost like water. He offered you a smile, and part of you wished that'd solve the tension in the air, to assuage your increasing confusion. But sadly, it didn't.
"Vee didn't want to fucking wait an extra ten minutes when you didn't answer the door and climbed through your window, which you should start locking I mean I know we're on the upper floors with no balcony or fire escape, but it's still a safety concern and with the baby--"
You interrupted Eddie's rambling. "Vee?" You echo.
"Uh--okay. That's what I call Venom when he isn't being an incorrigible shithead. Or a parasite who takes control of my body." Eddie sighed.
You almost laughed when Venom headbutted him in the side of his head.
"Stop calling me that! It's rude!" Venom snarled.
"No, what's rude is breaking into somebody's apartment!" Eddie retorted, jabbing a finger at Venom. "We talked about this!"
"You were worried, too!"
"Yes but I wasn't going to crawl through her goddamn window!"
Your eyes darted from one to the other as they started bickering like a... like a... Oh.
Yeah. It was after a two hour long conversation that Eddie told you everything. About his ex, the Life Foundation, finding Venom, fighting Riot, then the whole thing with Carnage, Venom's offspring... and of course, their actual relationship with one another, now. They argued like a married couple because they basically were one, complete with... well. You weren't ready in the current situation to imagine how the bedroom situation worked between them, yet.
You took it better than he expected. Way better.
"Honestly.... The only thing scarier than Venom is childbirth." You said, sitting next to him on the couch, your hands on your belly.
"...Eddie." you said slowly.
"Uh--yeah? What's up, sweetheart?" He asked awkwardly, Venom's eyes immediately drawn down to where your hands caressed the bump beneath your thin t shirt.
"How come you haven't asked to touch my belly yet? I'm... surprised. I've had random people come up to me and ask, but not... you."
"Wait... uh. So. You're giving... Permission?" Eddie asked, blinking his big, ridiculously lashed eyes at you.
"Well, yeah, and--"
"FINALLY!" Venom hissed.
In a black blur, Venom lurched forward over Eddie's shoulder, straight for your tummy. He pressed the side of his head against your belly, tendrils of his strange slime-like flesh wrapping around your midsection; listening to the baby's heartbeat and feeling for any movements.
Eddie meanwhile, looked equal parts horrified and embarrassed as he facepalmed, blushing all the way to his ears. "That's why. He's been fucking obsessed with you and your baby since he first realized you were pregnant."
You looked down as the symbiote cuddled you, and by extension, your baby, your jaw agape at how he was purring while he nuzzled into you.
"...That's why you're always so concerned about me?" You asked dumbly, blinking over at Eddie, who gave you an awkward smile and shrug in reply.
"Yeah, hate to break it to you, doll, but... Vee has kinda... claimed you two." He said.
"Claimed me." You repeated.
"Yeah. He has this thing... with kids?" He rolled his hand to try and think of words to describe it. "He's overprotective. He's the same with Sonny and Cher, it's just... he doesn't interact with many pregnant people so when he met you, that weird little drive kicked in. The fact that we both started feeling something for you outside of that kinda blindsided us, but..."
"So what?" Venom scoffed, resting his chin on the curve of your belly, looking up at you with a grin. "This is our baby now, and we will protect the both of you."
"Venom!" Eddie snapped.
"You claimed us?" You were having a difficult time wrapping your head around this. All of it. The whole situation in general. First your boyfriend has a boyfriend who technically isn't a boy but identifies as one because gender was a foreign concept to his species, they were together before they met you, Venom is a literal alien--
And now... was he saying...
"L-Look, I know it's early on and we haven't been dating long, but..." Eddie rubbed his sweaty palms on his faded-out jeans.
"Are you two saying... that you want to be with me? Rest of the pregnancy, birth, and all?"
The hell was your life, some kind of weird, cheap, sci-fi romance novel? The dashing, handsome alien(s) swoop in and offer to help raise your baby? What kind of parallel world were you in?
Eddie was quiet, and Venom merely stared at him, before looking back at you.
"Yes." He said. "Eddie is too much of a pussy to say it, but he likes the idea of taking care of a tiny you."
"Venom! Fuck! Stop calling me that!" Eddie snapped at the symbiote as he protectively snuggled your tummy.
Venom merely stuck his tongue out at him, "I will when you stop calling me a parasite!" He looked back up at you, giving you the best rendition he could of a hurt puppy. "Do you see how he talks to me? Despicable!"
You snorted a short laugh before you could stop yourself, and covered your mouth.
"Hah! See? She thinks I'm funny! So shut it!"
"Oh, my god, that does not count--"
"Yes it does I already won." Venom said contentedly.
"Look!" Eddie groans. "Just... We are willing to be with you. Take care of you, and help with the baby. If... you'll have us. I know this whole situation is weird, but..." Eddie trails off, looking at you hopefully.
The decision wasn't as difficult as you thought it'd be. Eddie and Venom haven't given you a reason to be afraid--other than scaring the shit out of you earlier because Venom apparently has fucking anxiety--and, well... They were so sweet, and gentle... And if Venom doting on your unborn baby currently was any indication, the affection would probably increase a hundred fold after your little bundle of joy arrived.
"Okay." You said.
All the tension seemed to drain from Eddie's body and he sighed, a relieved smile blooming on his face as he looked at you with a look in his eyes that had your heart doing a little flip in your chest.
"Thank God..." Eddie sighed happily.
Venom grinned widely at you, before shooting back to Eddie and seizing the body again, his inky black mass covering Eddie entirely.
Your couch creaked under the added weight of Venom's increased mass as he leaned over, dwarfing your whole body as he wrapped his thick, tree-trunk arms around your tinier body, nuzzling into your cheek before giving you a kiss. Thankfully no tongue, because you thought you'd probably choke if he did that.
When he pulled back, your face was flush at the boldness of his actions, and looked up at him as his opalescent eyes narrowed sweetly down at you.
But something Venom said clicked into your brain, finally, once it rebooted from the kiss.
"Venom, you said you two wouldn't mind helping raise a tiny me." You began. "But I don't know if I'm having a boy or girl, yet."
"Oh, we can." Venom grinned. "I could tell when I was holding onto you. It was easy."
"What?!" You sputter.
"You're having a little girl, by the way."
🍫🍫🍫🍫🍫🍫🍫🍫🍫🍫
You booked an appointment two weeks later. And damn, Venom was right. You were having a girl! At least the naming situation was easier, now that you narrowed down the sex.
Many people said you and Eddie were moving fast, but you ignored them because they didn't know the real situation. Your apartment was bigger, two rooms, one for you (and now Eddie and Venom) and the other was the nursery for the baby.
Eddie was affectionate, but Venom was downright clingy. He was almost always wrapped around your belly in some way or another, purring as he used his weird slimy body to massage you. He helped with your back strain surprisingly, how he would massage you. Eddie proposed maybe letting Venom bond with you for the remainder of the pregnancy to ensure safety and good health, but Venom shot the idea down himself.
He explained it like it was a bit like an organ donor match, if you weren't a match for him you could get sick, or God forbid both you and the baby could die. And to Eddie's surprise Venom made the nature decision to settle for massaging your back and tummy to ease the strain.
Venom jumped at the chance to rub your coconut oil into your belly to help ease the risk and appearance of stretch marks, too.
Through the mood swings, crazy cravings and nesting phases and all, you two boyfriends stayed with you through all of it. Several times you woke up to Venom and Eddie cooking in the kitchen, making sure you had a decent breakfast in the morning.
The only problem was... well. They cooked like broke college boys. So, you spent time giving them cooking lessons, which was one of the funnest things you'd done in a while. The messes were worth cleaning up, the cute recordings you made were memories that'd last a very very long time.
Nighttime cuddles were great, Venom slinking beneath the blankets to wrap around both you and Eddie to snuggle, massaging you the whole night. It really helped when he would conform a certain way so you could lay on your side comfortably and ease the strain on your poor spine and hips.
Who needed a pregnancy pillow when you had a symbiote, right?
Eddie and Venom read up as much as they could on the subject of babies and childbirth and to say Eddie was terrified was an absolute understatement. The photos and diagrams alone had him chewing his nails (getting a swift smack from Venom) and he felt himself getting queasy when he found out that apparently you would be delivering the placenta as well?!
How much did you have to go through, making a tiny human?!
This whole situation amused the fuck out of you, however, as you'd done all this research and merely accepted it. A bit of blood, etcetera after delivery seemed easy to deal with given you've dealt with your period since puberty and that alone was a mess by itself...
But watching a man learn more about it? Oh, it was hilarious.
But hey! They were excited for a cute little baby girl to snuggle and kiss!
One night, you were laying in bed as you scrolled through various baby items online, saving a few cute things for later. Eddie had his head on your shoulder, watching a movie, with an arm draped over your belly, now painfully (sometimes literally) obvious bump, feeling the baby shift and move around as she kicked inside of you.
Venom had encapsulated Eddie's arm, his massive hand stroking your tummy idly.
Apparently, a thought had been bouncing around in Venom's brain and he finally decided to ask it. His head morphed from behind Eddie and peered over at you.
"The baby is a girl." He said.
"Yeah, Venom, that's been established." Eddie snorted, moving until his cheek was resting on your chest.
"Eddie, that's mean." You chuckle, running your fingers through his hair. "Venom, continue."
"Thank you, sweet thing." Venom purred at you, shooting Eddie a glare afterwards.
"But anyway... If the baby is a girl now..." He tipped his head to the side. "What if the baby decides or realizes when she's older that she isn't one? Or either?"
You lower your phone, eyebrows raised at the gravity of his question. Even Eddie sat up on his elbow to look at Venom, surprised at the depth of the question coming from his symbiote. Honestly though, the subject made sense coming from a species that technically didn't have genders in the first place...
Venom seemed happy with your reply, and looked to Eddie expectantly. He already knew what his opinion was, but he wanted him to say it out loud for you.
"Well..." You begin. "If she decides she wasn't born the right gender, or feels like she's neither, or even leaning on both scales... I won't have a problem. I just want our baby to be happy and healthy, not conformed or trapped in any way. That includes the identity she will have as she realizes things about herself."
"Well, I don't have room to talk on gender identity." Eddie snickered. "Considering how you didn't really decide to go by male pronouns until you bonded with me and stuck with that identity because it fit for you... so, yeah. Whatever the baby decides when she's old enough is fine with me."
You grin and kiss Eddie on his temple, ruffling his hair as Venom nuzzles into your belly.
Yeah...
Safe, happy, and loved. That's what your baby would be, no matter what. With her two weird dads and her mom who puts up with their nonsense.
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tanglepelt · 10 months
Text
Dc x dp idea 82
Bernard has a new online conspiracy theorist friend.
Tim is at least happy bernard has less conspiracy theories about the bats. However him going off about a whole branch of the government deemed as guys in white is a bit much.
Now. He sure the two are just feeding off one another.
But it gets a tad too specific at times. Bernard going into detailed accounts of different ghost then ways they may have died?
A tiny ghost in a suit of armor. He is even claiming that his online friend is actually king of an entire dimension of elite ghost warriors? But his friend hadn’t realized it yet.
Honestly if his friend whose username is d3as0rAliv3? wasn’t coming to visit Gotham. Which he has no idea why anyone would come here he’d be hunting him down right now.
He’ll still do his research of course. Tim will also accompanying Bernard for the meet up. Just to be on the safe side.
Now when they got to the library. He most certainly wasn’t expecting a kid their age with a black eye and bruising around the wrists.
Especially not that Danny actually had proof of this GIW and the fact they were actively hunting down beings from a dimension called the infinite realm.
Maybe it wasn’t all a conspiracy theory. How on earth did Bernard find the one person who could prove their was a secret government agency hell bent on breaking the meta protection acts.
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anadiasmount · 21 days
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TEACHING JUDE HOW TO PERREAR AAA (because you know there’s nothing worse than having a guy just loosely holding onto your hips and looking up at the ceiling as if he doesn’t want to be there) he’s so mesmerized by the way you move your hips but he knows he has to grip onto your hips and grind back and when he gets the hang of it it’s just 😮‍💨😮‍💨
salió el sol is the song i immediately thought of… it’s very much suitable for this blurb 🤭🤭
he had seen you outside waiting in line, watching how you made your friends laugh and danced a bit from the music that played inside the club. he watched you yet again when you walked into the place like you owned it, hair silky, tiny black lace dress, and those high heels that made your appearance like a sexy super model. all it took once eye glance and jude was hooked.
him watching you the entire night as you expertly played and gambled in poker, drank many shots to which you couldn’t get drunk off on, take pictures with your friends and even at one point working the dj booth. oh but don’t get started when the music switched from old r&b to old school reggeaton.
how you jumped from your spot and fixed your dress, throwing your hair back as you walked hand to hand with your friend down to the dance floor, so far yet so close from the vip booths. “where you going?” asked aurelien, patting the midfielder shoulder as he walked off. “gonna step here real quick, wanna see the crowd…” jude shrugged him off, determined to at least catch you, maybe even offer you a drink.
jude could sense you knew how to dance but not so explicitly and intimidating like this. a hand in your hair, shaking your hips side to side with knee bent, then throwing it back onto your friend, ass shaking as you came up with a sly and clever grin. jude locked his lips, leaning onto the railing, continuing to observe you, how you sensually rolled your hips, threw your head back almost in pleasure, your bottom lip between your teeth as you smirked and danced. a fucking expert… jude thought.
he couldn’t shake off the feeling your radiated. the whole club with their eyes on you. you were the show tonight, and he sure as hell loved it. his fingers gripped tight on his glass as he downed his final sip, not denying how gorgeous you were. jude was mesmerized, by you. and he wanted just a little taste even if he didn’t know how to dance himself.
at one point you had looked up locking eyes with the stranger who couldn’t keep their gaze off you tonight. your friend giving you an ‘i told you so’ look when you told her. “starting to get a little creepy don’t you think?” she spoke loudly as you continued to move your hips and ass to ‘baila morena’ that rang loudly in the club. you could feel the beat, the rhythm, the passion, all in every single song. you felt confident and even more so sexy.
“you’re wrong… the night is just getting started!” you wink at her, grabbing her hand and initiating for her to throw it back on you, hyping her every move as chants and praises were heard in the back from your friends and newer strangers.
time passed, your feet a tad bit sore after dancing for almost an hour. you sat at the bar, quietly stirring your drink with the thin black straw with legs crossed. you sense a familiar stare across from you, smiling at the stranger once again. “rude to stare no?” you’re quick to remark, earning a chuckle and him walking to you. “how so?” he said confidently, leaning against the bar with one arm.
“you’ve stared at me the whole night, like some shy boy in a corner, when deep down we both know what you want…” you cocked your brow up, taking a sip of your drink before turning slightly to face him. jude acknowledged you with a knowing nod. “will it still be rude if i ask to buy you a drink?” he offers, hearing how you laughed.
“not at all…”
“i’m jude,” he introduced. he extends his hand to shake yours, your hands fitting like puzzle pieces, “y/n… encantada.”
“i have to say… you’re an excellent dancer,” jude said, making you look up with a look. “quite a show you put on i must say…”
“jealous?”
“not particularly,” jude shrugged.
“then follow me,” you stood up, grabbing his hand once again before he stops you. “w-wait, i -i don’t know how to dance…” he shyly admits. “well you said so yourself, im an excellent dancer? i’ll teach you,” you guided him to the dance floor, cheering when you hear “salió el sol’ by don omar playing in the dj booth.
“first things first is, you can’t be stiff, let the music flow through your veins,” you advised, smiling as you grabbed on to his shoulders and lead him deeper the crowd. “second, it’s all in the hips, if you can’t move them, then it will suck…” you winked, jude giving you a half grin.
ella lo vuelve loco como se menea, bailando pura candela, lo vuelve loco cuando se acelera, y pela
you show him by circling your hips, guiding his hands to grip and feel as they moved. jude feels his pulse on his wrists quicken, the affect you have on him slowly turning him on, not being able to resist and pull you closer. his feet widen a bit, shocking you as you went between them, continuing your slow movement as you gently grinded on him, feeling his prominent abs as you did.
y yo quiero saber cómo es que baila la julieta… julieta baila sexy con la mano en la cabeza
you turned slowly, your back against his chest as jude dragged his hands along your sides. “you sure you don’t know?” you tease, a bit shocked at how quickly he was learning. “yep… have the best teacher on me currently,” you feel his lips trace your ear, your ass on his crotch as you continued to move your hips now more taunting. “dancing so confident… so sexy…”
you close your eyes, head thrown back on his shoulder, a hand coming to rest on the nape of his neck, the other interlocking with the his that circled your waist. “am i doing right?” jude closed the last bit of space, grinding and bucking his hips with yours so sensually, so hot. jude resists the groan escaping his lips as you whimpered softly.
“doing so good jude…”
the two of you are under a spell, bodies contracting and moving flowy. the different shades of light, the music, the tension, it’s all to much, yet you can’t seem to pull away even when you both lose control and are out of sync. jude’s head nestled into you neck as you feel his hard cock on your ass, his hand low on your abdomen pressing your even closer, whispering daunting words that have you trembling to the tip.
lo de ella es playa y arena, se excita cuando el sol la quema, quiere reggeaton, discoteca pa' la nena, se le mete en las venas
“is it supposed to feel like this?” he asked, pressing a feather kiss on your jaw. “like how?” you stutter now his affect on you, feeling the drinks from the entire night beginning to have their affect. “so tender and intimate? so right?” jude was sure of one thing, that he was compelled by you, not just your dancing, everything about you. “answer me, or i’ll stop,” jude spoke, feeling your muscles tense, as you pushed back more, both his hands ln your hips again.
“you should feel more than just tender and sweet… you have to feel it here,” you turn swiftly, wanting to moan at the loss of contact. “you feel it here,” you touch his beating heart, similar to the bass of the music. “and in here…” you brush his temple, jude placing a kiss on your wrist all the way down to your inner flesh.
you’re so sure by the end of the night you might forget his name and let it be as it is. but it’s clear jude has different plans, his strong muscular hand wrapped behind your back as your clung into his shoulders, your cunt allow rubbing against on one of his strong thighs.
“what else? teach me more.”
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spacedace · 1 month
Text
Got inspired by the below tiktok and the idea of the Rogues killing the Joker in revenge for Jason instead of Bruce and had to write about it.
Here, have probably way too many words (with more to come most likely, this really won't leave me alone) of the Rogue's feelings about Jason's death at the Joker's hands and everything that followed.
(also I know the timeline is a bit screwy, shhh just go with it, we're going on vibes with this one lol)
-
Childhood was not held universally sacred in the dark streets of Gotham.
The city was hard and cruel and she didn’t care about the ages of those that were ground up and spit out in her oily black heart.
A kid could slit your throat as easy as a man grown in a place like their fine city, maybe easier even for those who still fell for the ideal of children being incapable of anything but innocence and sweetness. Children learned from the world around them though, they learned from the savagery that filled their world, the hard scrabble desperate attempts to survive. They learned what dark corners to avoid, which ones were safer to skitter down.
It didn’t mean there weren’t still some rules of decency to be honored though.
Most folks, even those in the circle of the Rogues, largely left kids out of the equation. Crossfire happened of course, hitting busy city centers always meant some kind of collateral. But there wasn’t much that they got out of purposefully hurting kids outside a black mark on their name in most levels of the grungy underbelly of the city and one hell of a big target on their back. Both from the Bat and those criminals in the dark with them that took offense to those kinds of things. They were crooks, but with few exceptions they weren’t complete monsters.
Robin had always held an interesting place in their grungy little ecosystem. Anything to do with the Bat was generally ruled as gloves-off, do what you do without hesitation. And Robin - both of ‘em - had no problem hitting hard and being ruthless. The first one in particular had a feral sort of rage to him that was a terrifying thing to be on the business end of.
But they were still kids.
Defending yourself from any kid swinging on you was fair game, a person had the right to defend themselves. Grabbing up Robin to hold hostage or bait Gotham’s local cryptid, that was all fine and dandy. You could even get away with roughing the kid up a little here and there, so long as you made sure not to go too far and always kept hits to where the kid’s armor was the thickest. No hard and fast written rules, mind, but general rules of thumbs. Lines indistinct due to the shaky ground a child dancing through the night as a vigilante left all of them on, but ones clear enough that you knew when you were at risk of going too far.
Besides, the Robins were good kids. Fucking feral little shits, of course, able to leave you bleeding just as easy from a kick as they were a sharp word. But good kids. Even most the Rogues in the Gallery liked em. It was hard not to be at least a little fond of a gutsy little punk like that.
Though they were all maybe a tad less nervous around Robin II than they were the original.
Robin I had a lot of anger burning in him, a lot of anger in him, but he was still a cheerful boy with a bright attitude that was refreshing in a world so bleak and dark as the one they all lived in. It was up in the air which was scarier about the kid: The smiled he gave when he was about to give a hands on demonstration about how much force a tiny ten year old could put into a kick when they had half a dozen spins shoved into a flip to wind up to 80 miles an hour, or the flash of his teeth when he was demonstrating the knife sharp brilliance of his belief that Batman was only as frightening as Robin was hopeful.
They weren’t sure if he realized that sometimes they felt a helluva lot more hope at the sight of the Bat when the little bird was putting the hurt on them, or if he’d simply folded that fact neatly into his core philosophy without issue.
Robin II on the other hand had this kind of quiet shyness to him - even as he was shouting the most inventive swears ever heard by human ear at someone while he kicked them in the balls hard enough to make ‘em see not just the face of their own god but a few dozen besides. He was just as unhinged as the Robin before him - seemed to be a requirement for the job really - but there was a distinct different in how the two birds flitted about the darkened skyline of the city. Where the first Robin’s smile was as much danger as it was dazzle, a fanged declaration of victory against the dark, Robin II’s was a sunny, stubborn declaration of perseverance. Kid was sassy and smart, and never - ever - flinched away from extending a hand to those he thought in need of it.
Even if the folks he offered that hand to were in the middle of an attack on some fancy Gala or Wayne Enterprises or whatever target of the week it was. Even knowing the offered hand was likely to be slapped away and followed by a right hook. Kid still always tried.
They all knew why.
The Bat was big on offering chances, on rehabilitation rather than damnation. Some of Robin II being the way he was came from the broody cryptid he followed around. But Batman couldn’t claim to be the sole reason for Robin II being the way he was, couldn’t even pretend to be the cause of most of it. Nah, they knew why the little bird was the way he was.
That unmistakable thick accent. That frame that was always a little too thin even as he got older and stronger. That unshakable, headstrong spirit.
Robin II was an Alley Kid.
A true child of Gotham.
Her polluted waters in his veins. Her smoggy air in his lungs. Her shadows clinging to his edges less like a beast looking to swallow a small bird up and more like a protective mother hiding her hatchling. He understood the world most of them came from. The one they all lived in. Knew it in a way anyone who hadn’t been swallowed up by the dark never really could.
Everyone had their favorite, but even those that claimed the first Robin as theirs couldn’t deny that Robin II was someone to be respected. Nor could they deny a fondness for the chain smoking, classic lit referencing, perpetually baby-faced little shit. They’d all had knock out drag out fights with the kid and knew how fucking unhinged the puny motherfucker could be in a fight, but he always tempered it with offers of resources, of a listening ear, of understanding.
He visited them after they’d been arrested sometimes. In Arkham, or Blackgate or wherever else they’d been locked up in after being stopped by the Dynamic Duo. The little bird would make the rounds whenever he had a broken wing or was stuck waiting as the Bat interrogated someone else or for any other reason he wasn’t out flitting about the city skyline at night. He’d bring cookies or snacks and even cigarettes from his own secret stash on the rare occasion, mask unable to hide the furtive glances around to check for the living shadow that was the disapproving Bat.
The Rogues and their Goons always had a soft spot for the Robins. And Robin II made it especially easy to let fondness bleed out of them from time to time. He was a good kid.
But childhood was not held universally sacred in the dark streets of Gotham.
Bad things happened to good kids all the time.
And some of the monsters that lurked in the city’s darkest shadows took the black mark of a kid killer as a point of pride.
Robin II disappeared one day. Just after that piece of shit Garzonas took the fast way down from the top of a tall building. There were a lot of Rogues with doctoral degrees to their names but even those Goons that dropped out of school before they learned to spell their own names could do that math.
The big bad Bat had benched the boy after the fierce little bird had done what any decent member of the criminal underbelly would have. There were those that thought maybe it’d been an accident, that the kid was pulled off duty because of being too upset at unintentionally crossing the heavy line the Bat drew in the sand. Those voices were drowned out pretty quick though.
Sure, Robin II was all about second chances, of doing better, of redemption. But Garzonas had chances to spare and only ever spat in the face of those offering them. Doubled down on being a monster in a way very, very few of the Rogues Gallery would. The kid was a sweetheart, but he wasn’t no push over and there were some things so heinous that there was only one way of handling them. Crime Alley had its own kind of justice system, and when faced with a monster that was beyond even Batman’s jurisdiction, Robin II did what he always did: fell back on his roots.
Or so the rumors said, at least.
That was the thing about Gotham’s seedy underbelly. It was a grimy, wretched nest of vipers and cut-throats, but it was also worse than any beauty parlor when it came to gossip. No one actually knew anything other than that piece of shit motherfucker took a dive while Robin was chasing him and that he’d not been seen on the streets since. But most had a fondness for the kid, and a distaste for the kind of cruelty Garzonas reveled in and there was no proof that Robin hadn’t gone and done the world a favor by drop kicking that barbaric sack of shit off a roof. So as far as most in the Gallery were concerned, the little bird had stepped up and been a hero.
Time passed. Not a lot. But enough. The Bat disappeared too, popping up on an entire other continent in a way that was awfully tempting. Even with other Masks playing baby sitter while the local cryptid was away. Rogues were scrambling to set plans in motion, Goons getting hired en masse, weapons and weird chemicals getting delivered to shady places across Gotham by the truck-full. The criminal underbelly was abuzz with the same excited energy of children the day before a big birthday party.
And then the news came in.
There were people in the dark who made their living finding things out. Knowing things that no one else did or could. Some even specialized, keeping tabs on Batman and Robin better than anyone else in the business were able. And when the information they found wasn’t anything handy to have tucked into a back pocket or a secret they were paid extremely well to keep? They held on to with the same tenacity a sieve clung to water.
Robin II had run off across the globe and ended up in Ethiopia. Something to do with a doctor doing aid work, the same something that had the Bat end up there was the assumption. Kid ran off to handle things himself or was sent on a separate path on purpose for some plan or other the Bat had cooked up on his hunt.
Whatever the reason, the kid crossed paths with the Clown.
Alone.
Childhood was not held universally sacred in the dark streets of Gotham. The city was hard and cruel and she didn’t care about the ages of those that were ground up and spit out in her oily black heart. But Robin II was hers, the child of her heart, an exception to the rule. And besides, most folks - even those in the Rogues Gallery - largely left the purposeful harm of kids out of the equation.
The Joker wasn’t most folks.
And the little bird was a long way away from the protective shadows of his mother city.
The Rogues and their Goons always had a soft spot for the Robins. And Robin II made it especially easy to let fondness bleed out of them from time to time. He was a good kid.
When the news broke, it broke most of them right along with it.
Plans stalled. Schemes ended. Gotham, for an unnervingly quiet stretch of time that neither its civilians or the world at large understood, went still. Crime continued, of course, but the big names weren’t seen. It was only right, by the standards of those that lived their lives in the dark, that they hold off and give the man that fought them all so relentlessly over the past years the time he needed to focus on hunting down the monster that killed his son. He didn’t need the distraction, and they all owed it to Robin II not to interfere while the Bat at last put a final end to the Clown.
And the hellish cryptid would need his full focus on this one. The Joker wasn’t one to take lightly at the best of times, but he’d set himself up neatly in the middle of a nasty bear trap. Ugly and complicated in the way everything with the Clown was. Interference from the CIA, from the UN, from Superman.
Shit went down. People heard about the Bat and the Clown throwing down in a helicopter plummeting from the sky in one hell of a water landing. Big Blue fished Batman out of the drink before he could drown but there’d been no sign of the Joker.
But the Bat would find him.
They all knew the relentless bastard would find him. It was just a matter of time. With the hellish drive of a demon straight from Gotham’s darkest shadows, the Bat would track the grinning, child killing ghoul down and make right the terrible wrong the evil motherfucker had done. Batman would hunt him to the ends of the earth and enact the justice he held up so fiercely. Robin II would have the vengeance the kid so rightly deserved.
It was just a matter of time. So they waited. And waited.
Days.
Weeks.
Months.
The Clown still lived.
The world, impossibly, began to move on. The Bat returned to his lurking in the night, picking off gangs and petty crooks and no-name gangsters as if nothing had happened at all. More vicious, more savage, but failing to turn that rise in brutality into the killing blow against the one figure that so rightly deserved it.
No one knew what was happening. There were rumors and theories, as there always were in the underground. Some thought that it wasn’t the Bat at all back in Gotham but someone else pretending for awhile, looking after his neglected city while he continued his pursuit of the Joker. Other held that it was the Bat but the whole thing was a ploy to draw the Clown out into the open. A pretense at not caring meant to get under the Clown’s skin, make the asshole mad enough to get stupid and sloppy and reveal himself.
That the man simply had given up was beyond comprehension. Beyond what any upstanding Rogue could accept. So it simply couldn’t be true. There was a trick being played. Some brilliant game of 4D chess that none of them had been able to parse out. It’d be revealed in time, and they see the brilliant trap that had been set. The Clown would be lured out, the Bat would put him down for good, and then they’d all at last raise a glass to the little bird that had been shot down far too soon and smoke shitty cigarettes and quote literary masters and mourn the loss one of Gotham’s own true children.
They just had to play along. Stumbling forward back into their usual habits, pretending that it was a choice and not the world just forcibly dragging them along. It’d make sense, eventually. The Bat had a plan. Robin II wasn’t forgotten, his killer not left free to roam and ravage unpunished for what he’d done.
And then one day there was a new bird flitting across the rooftops.
Chasing the Bat’s looming frame like a reverse shadow. Bright flashes of color in contrast to the bleak darkness of Gotham’s grimy nights. Small and thin and young.
Not the first Robin. With his showman bright grin and bloody rage and unwavering belief in the terrifying power of hope. Not the brilliant, vicious little boy that they’d seen grow over the years into the fierce and fearless Nightwing.
Not Robin II either.
Not Gotham’s soft hearted little bruiser with his unshakable belief that people could be better if given the chance, shinning so bright in the dark as he held out a hand that even the Rogues had no choice but to believe right along with him sometimes. Not the tough little songbird they’d never get to see grow up. Unavenged and unhonored. Put in a box and buried in the ground with a name none of them would ever know carved into a stone they’d never be able to visit.
No.
It was a new Robin.
A new child with the R emblazoned upon his chest.
Sharp and quick and young in the way the birds always were when they started flying at the Bat’s side. Every inch of the boy’s tiny frame a tragedy and an insult. One very, very few of Gotham’s vicious underbelly were willing to tolerate.
Childhood was not held universally sacred in the dark streets of Gotham, but there was a damn big difference between holding something sacred and not giving a damn about it at all. There were rules unspoken but understood, a way things were done. Nothing so solid or concrete as a code of conduct, more a collection of time honored traditions. Blood for blood was among the oldest and truest, and the more precious the person taken the more vital and vicious payment was to be made in kind.
The Clown had killed Robin II.
Beaten the kid half to death and then finished the job with a bomb.
Everyone knew he’d done it laughing all the way.
The Bat should have done the same in kind. Done worse. It was justice, it was what was right. You kill a kid you’re marked forever. You kill one so well liked and kill ‘em like that and you’re destined for a cruel and cold death. The Bat had first dibs. It was his kid. It was his right to put an end to that awful laughter and let his son have peace at last.
But he never did.
Nightwing had. For a bit. For a moment.
Robin I, who half the time had scared them all more than the Bat ever could. Dazzling and dizzying and dangerous. Gave back the pain and hurt the Clown had forced upon him with clenched fists and bone shattering hits. They were glad for him, that he was able to beat the monster who had taken his little brother from him to death, that he was able to have such justice.
And then the Bat stepped in.
Revived the fucking Clown.
A slap in the face. The snapping crack of a spine beneath one straw too many. The final, unforgivable insult the man had dared visit upon not just the child taken from him but the entirety of Gotham.
The Rogues and their Goons always had a soft spot for the Robins. Respected their ferocity, admired their moxie, marveled at their ability to keep shining in the dark like they did. Robin II made it especially easy to let fondness bleed out of the city’s dirty criminal underbelly from time to time.
He was a good kid.
He deserved better.
Better than the silence and peace he should be granted in death to be marred by the mad cackles of his killer still running around alive and unpunished. Better than his father giving up, returning to the same old routine as if nothing had happened at all. Better than the Bat snatching up a new bird less than a year later.
Gotham and her Rogues had given the Bat time enough to do what needed to be done.
It was their turn.
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Sweet indulgence 🛼
Written for the Valentine's Day pop-up challenge of the @steddieholidaydrabbles blog.
Rated: G
CW: none
Tags: No UD AU; Future fic; Flirting; Sexual Tension; Record label owner!Eddie; Waiter!Steve; Steve in roller skates; First date (Eddie says it counts 💖)
Notes: continued from this one.
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"You can’t be fucking serious,” Steve says. 
“Why not?” Eddie throws the garishly pink flier back down on the table. “It’s still Valentine’s Day.” 
“For thirteen more minutes,” Steve bristles, pen pressing down on his little notepad so hard that Eddie is afraid he’ll punch a hole through it. “You don’t even have a date.” 
“Didn’t know that was required,” Eddie grins. “All I’m saying is, if you offer a Valentine’s Day special, then that special should be available for the entirety of Valentine’s Day, so …” 
Steve makes an exasperated sound, but still jots down the order. 
“You’re being ridiculous,” he barks over his shoulder as he pushes away from the table and disappears into the kitchen. “Just so you know.” 
Eddie watches him glide away, legs and ass a meal in their own right in those shorts and knee-highs and the fucking roller skates. 
Maybe the boy has a point. Maybe he is being ridiculous. 
It’s not exactly normal behavior, discovering that your former high school king is now a waiter at the diner down the street, and then promptly declaring said diner your new after-work dinner spot. But Eddie never claimed to be normal. And he’s always been a tad bit obsessed with Steve Harrington, so here they are. 
Steve has long resigned himself to his nightly visits. Never once has he acknowledged their shared history, and Eddie hasn’t pushed. Instead, he’s slowly putting together all the little puzzle pieces he’s been collecting. 
Steve will grumble and scowl and bitch over Eddie’s absurd orders and constant attempts at flirting, but he never fails to pocket his generous tips, so he must be struggling financially. He’s pulling at least one job besides the one at the diner. Most likely a babysitting gig, as indicated by the sparkly hair clips and stickers that Eddie regularly spots in his hair and on his clothes. He’s also not seeing anyone, because if he was, he sure as hell wouldn’t be working the night shift on Valentine’s Day. 
He also hasn’t eaten in a while, if the tummy rumble as he brings the order is anything to go by. Eddie quirks a brow. Steve blushes and hugs the tray to his chest. 
“Enjoy your meal,” he says, but Eddie holds up a hand and gestures invitingly at the empty seat opposite him. 
“Join me?” 
Steve’s brow furrows. “I’m on the clock.” 
“Oh yeah, and super fucking busy, I can see,” Eddie quips. “Indulge me, my liege.” 
Steve chews on his bottom lip, casting a hesitant glance towards the kitchen. Finally, he sighs and slips into the free seat. Eddie hands over one of the two cupcakes on his plate, decorated in a lopsided tower of frosting and a smattering of heart-shaped sprinkles. Steve devours nearly half of it with two enormous bites, and if triumph blooms warm and heavy in Eddie’s chest, that’s neither here nor there. 
“So,” he drawls, ignoring his own cupcake in favor of stacking his chin on top of his folded hands, peering at Steve over the rim of his sunglasses. “How was your day? Been handing out lots of these little babies?” 
Steve rolls his eyes. 
“Yeah, sure,” he says around a mouthful of frosting. “Have you seen this place? Premium date spot. So classy and romantic.” 
They lapse into silence for a few seconds. Steve grabs the milkshake with the two straws without waiting for an invitation and takes an enormous sip. There’s a tiny pink sprinkle at the corner of his mouth. Eddie resists the temptation to reach out and wipe it away. 
“What about you, huh? You own the record label down the street, right? Surely your day was much more interesting than mine.” 
So he isn’t the only one who’s been puzzling, Eddie thinks. 
“Hellfire Records,” he nods, happy to ramble about his baby, even though Steve’s attempt at diverting the topic is not nearly as subtle as the boy may think. “We have some pretty cool bands, but I’m not sure they’re your taste, exactly.” 
“Oh?” Steve shoves the last bit of cupcake into his mouth, licking leftover frosting off his fingers. “Bold of you to assume that you’d know my taste. Indulge me?” 
Eddie does. 
Steve does, it turns out, know fuck all about metal and grunge, but he’s surprisingly interested and open-minded. Much more open-minded than Eddie would’ve expected from Hawkins High royalty. By the time they wrap up their little talk and make their way over to the counter, Steve has finished not only the milkshake, but also the second cupcake.
When Eddie hands over the usual fifty, Steve hesitates. 
“You already gave me all the food.” 
Eddie smiles easily. “So? Gotta let my favorite waiter know I appreciate him on this fine holiday.” 
Something flits over Steve’s face, something open and vulnerable, but it’s gone as soon as it came. 
“Don’t think you can buy my affection, Eddie,” he murmurs, snatching the bank note from Eddie’s fingers and stuffing it into his apron pocket. 
“Don’t worry,” Eddie winks and saunters towards the door - carefully making sure to keep the giddy spring out of his step. Steve called him Eddie. Not Munson. “I wouldn’t dream of it.” 
“Good,” Steve calls after him. “See you tomorrow?” 
“You bet, big boy,” Eddie says. He’s just about to leave when something else occurs to him. “And I’ll be sure to pick a nicer spot for our second date, promise.” 
Steve’s blush is as pink as the sprinkle that’s still stuck at the corner of his mouth. Eddie doesn’t wait for his retort, just shuts the door and makes for home, grinning like a maniac.
🛼💕🛼💕🛼💕🛼💕🛼💕🛼💕🛼💕🛼💕🛼💕
Tagging some ppl who expressed interest last time: @p0lybl4nkk @fairytalesreality @colidamae @dissociatingdemon @steddhie @formosusiniquis @steddiehasmywholeheart @ellaelsinore @rozzieroos
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junityy · 10 months
Text
love letters
pairing. bf!jay x gn!reader
synopsis. in which jay reads your first, unfinished attempt at writing a love letter for him by accident.
genre. fluff
wc. 1k
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"I'm back!" you exclaim as you close the door behind you with your foot; unable to use either one of your hands since they're both carrying the grocery bag in your arms, which you didn't even think would be this heavy. Well, you might've gone a little overboard when trying to decide what snacks would be best for tonight; so that'd explain it, at least.
Finally putting the bag on the kitchen counter after the way back here felt like seven years, - when in reality, it was barely ten minutes - you sigh loudly in pure relief.
"Jay?" your voice's tainted with a little confusion; you didn't get any response like you thought you would. Leaving the keys right beside the bag on the counter, you make your way to your bedroom to see what he's up to.
"Hey, I got all the snacks for our-" you pause, and your jaw even drops the tiniest bit when you see Jay sitting on the bed while holding a single piece of paper and, what looks like, reading it. ".. movie night." finishing your sentence, - way quieter than you had started it - Jay finally looks up and meets your eyes.
"Oh I didn't hear you, love." he briefly explains, eyes big as he realizes he didn't hear you coming through the door, nor that you were talking to him just about thirty seconds ago.
"What are you reading?" you ask in a small voice with a slightly nervous undertone, since the paper seems to look a little too familiar for it to be in Jay's hands.. yet. Even from afar.
"Oh- this. Yeah, I found this on the desk earlier. I almost threw it away, but then I saw that it was addressed to me. Y/N is this a love letter?" Jay explains and asks with a tiny smile on his face, sounding only a tad bit confused about the paper in his hands.
And when your eyes widen, his eyes flicker between you and the paper in even bigger confusion and his yet so tiny smile fades. "What?" he asks innocently, eyes big as your reaction makes him feel slightly concerned.
"You weren't supposed to read that." you frown a bit, ready to drown yourself in embarrassment any second now. ".. yet." you almost forgot, but this only made his curiosity grow.
"Oh, this is embarrassing." you mumble to yourself as you walk up to the bed, sitting down in front of him, while his eyes are basically glued to you the whole time.
"I, uhm, couldn't really sleep last night, and then I remembered that you briefly mentioned how you adore love letters a few hours prior." you begin to explain, not even realizing how you're actively avoiding looking at him. "And then I realized that I never wrote you one, like, ever. During all the time we've been together." you add, still a bit saddened by the fact that he never received one from you.
"And so- I got up and.. tried to write one. It's not finished, though. And I thought I put it away, but apparently not.." you continue to explain, shrugging towards the end when you realize you clearly didn't put it away. Writing it at about four in the morning must have made you so tired, you went straight back to bed without noticing it was still on the desk - open for anyone to see and read.
Finally, you look up and meet Jay's eyes. And well, he looks rather surprised, a little shocked even - in a good way, so you assume. His jaw might have dropped just the tiniest bit, and his eyes have not left you still, but now they look even bigger instead.
"I've never written one, like.. in my life." is the last thing you add - as a way to defend yourself in case it was somehow bad by any means; since, well, you barely remember what you even wrote last night.
"I love you." Jay simply scoffs in disbelief, clearly realizing by your change of expression that this is not quite the reaction you were expecting. But still, you're not complaining - hearing him say those three words makes your heartbeat increase an embarrassing amount, like when you first met him and could barely say a word.
And even now, after over two years, you're left speechless again. And so of course, Jay can't help but chuckle; softly grabbing you by the chin to pull you in closer for a short kiss just a second later.
God. You really do feel like when you first met with the way you still get butterflies around him - more and more each day.
"Your letter was beautiful, my love." is the very first thing he says in a low tone after the kiss, your faces still dangerously close and his hand still touching your chin. "I loved it." he adds with a smile, trying to justify just how much he fell in love with those words you wrote. But saying 'he loved it' doesn't seem to be nearly enough.
"I love you." you return, the big smile forming on your face almost impossible to overhear in your voice. Immediately pressing your lips onto his yet again, Jay can't help but smile into the kiss when he can feel you doing so.
"Wait." he suddenly says, breaking the kiss after not too long; your smile fades and confusion overtakes you instead, while Jay's smile only grows bigger by the second.
Sitting straight again, you watch Jay reach down to one of the drawers in the bedside desk, looking for something. When he finds it, he sits straight again and closes the drawer again.
And when your eyes go down to see what's in his hands, you see that it's a bunch of papers just like yours. Except they have much more written on every single one of them; beginning to end of the page, they're full with texts.
Compared to yours, though, every single one of them has a date written at the top.
And instead of being addressed to Jay, they're all addressed to you. Every last one of them.
Your jaw actually drops at the sudden realization, and immediately your head shoots back up - only to find an even bigger smile on Jay's face now. He chuckles at your reaction as it's adorable to him. And also at the fact that he just pulled all these out at once.
"I wrote you a bunch over the years."
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note. JUNITYYS FIRST EVER WORK AFTER NOVEMBER 2021 and ofc its jay 😭😭😭 so hello again! not sure just How back i am again but i wanna try and write more again!! (just keep in mind that i WILL 99% still be inconsistent as hell and just post much Much random stuff please, thank you 😸🙏🏻) - also i hope this drabble layout is somewhat fine LMFAO i forgot how you do all this and also tumblr is acting up </3
taglist @tyunni @geombyu @jaeyunverse
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monakisu · 3 months
Note
How did the cat tank arc make you like torisai?? Isn't that the chapter where Toritsuka literally betrays him and doesn't believe in him at all, until Saiki shows how unconditionally kind he is despite the betrayal?? And then he still says he has a shitty personality afterward...
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TOXIC YAOI BABY!!!! 
saiki will diss toritsuka as much as he wants, will drone over and over how the author should just go ahead and kill off what's obviously deadweight—yet when the chance for precisely that comes, he still risks life and limb to keep this nuisance safe... and toritsuka will whine and whinge abt saiki-san's hardass rules but he still thinks of him as a god?? "our god has returned!!"—i think that's what he cheered when saiki's powers came back, lol? he clearly worships saiki as some super powerful entity/deity, yet he still has the audacity to beg him for dumbass pervert favors... i've never witnessed this breed of worshipper before... fascinating specimen. 
their relationship has a sort of an "enemies to lovers" flavor, except in this case it's more like "haters to enemies to haters again with a tad bit more understanding for each other". at this point, toritsuka mayyy be saiki's closest confidant? arguably the one who knows saiki the best! (subconsciously. he's too dumb to consciously realize it.) he'll likely be one of the first people saiki turns to whenever he needs help, which sucks because toritsuka is sorta useless, power and personality-wise HAHAHA
also toritsuka is probably the only (non-familial) person saiki is so flat-out MEAN to! it's hilarious!! yknow how romantic partners are supposed to bring the best out of each other? Not Happening Here. in the slimy presence of toritsuka, saiki is at his most honest but also his worst. toritsuka is the antithesis to the emotional support puppies zookeepers will pair anxious cheetahs with; he's more like........................
lice.
yeah. he's the lice in saiki's fur. plainly speaking, he's a pest!!!
also toritsuka's betrayal was sorta necessary in my opinion, because this guy's too damn dumb to learn a lesson the normal way. he absolutely needs to be put into Situations in order to walk away with at least a teeny tiny sliver of character growth. and i definitely credit a huge part of his betrayal to kusuke's psychological warfare. pitting a super-human cambridge genius against a sub-human highschool dumbass... poor, pathetic toritsuka never stood a chance!! still, the resentment he'd been harboring definitely also contributed to his backstabbing. howeveeer, now that he's seen firsthand saiki's affection for him, that resentment has vanished! he's been shaken to his core!! the worship has been amplified to the MAX!!!
lastly, i just think it's hopelessly hideously HYSTERICAL to have the world's worst womanizer fall in love with a man!! and have the world's most sexless guy fall in love with a future sex offender!!! they're so fundamentally incompatible it loops back around to being compatible?! it's a real comedy. tragedy. tragicomedy. (saiki and toritsuka would doubtlessly view it as a tragedy)
lastly-lastly: height difference. that is all.
thanks sending for this ask! it let me think (<< very rare) and put into words why i actually like torisai besides "hehehe hater x hater". writing all of this made me like it even more!! but i think this may have made you despise it more? oops. my tastes are strange and off-putting. i mean, kusuke is literally my favorite saiki character, after saiki himself... that's gotta tell you something.
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the-little-ewok · 8 months
Text
Enraptured (Poe POV)
Poe Dameron X Fem!Reader
Rating : E / 18+
Word count : 2600 (ish)
Warnings : PIV, fingering, semi-public sex, tiny bit of needy!Poe, sprinkles of feral!Poe, reader wears a dress, lack of self confidence, praise kink, cock warming, fluff, brief mentions of F/oral receiving, a tad of possessiveness in a soft way
Summary: Poe litterally can't keep his hands off you during a party (This is Clandestine... but from Poe's POV ;) )
A/N : It's not necessary to have read Clandestine to enjoy this. It's simply the same story from another (slightly more feral) point of view.
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He can't stop his foot from bouncing impatiently under the table, trying anything to distract himself from the way you look, bathed in flickering multicolour lights, your dress accentuating every part of you that he loves.
He has so many regrets about agreeing to come tonight. He hates these types of parties as it is, full of stuck-up politicians, only out for their own gain. But this one, this is so much worse because of you. He can't concentrate on anything, and now to top it off he can't even leave the table because, well, in short, everyone would see exactly what you do to him.
He wants to look elsewhere, he wants to distract himself, but he can't. All he can do is stare at you, imagining the way you would look bent over the table, your dress hiked up high, the plush of your ass against his hips as he presses himself deep inside you, making you scream his name.
Damn Jess for helping you pick that dress. He really must remember to thank her the next time he sees her.
"Stop that," you scold him, for probably the thousandth time tonight.
"Stop what?" He grins at you, licking his lips as his eyes flicker up and down your body for absolutely the thousandth time. He really can't help himself anymore.
"Looking at me," you hiss in response, adjusting your dress.
He wishes you didn't fidget the way you do, like his gaze makes you uncomfortable. You don't see how truly beautiful you are — more than anyone, anything, he's ever seen. Your smile, your laugh, your kindness, your good heart, the way you never take any of his bullshit, the way you make his heart beat just as wildly as flying does. Poe knows he's in too deep with you. He's fallen harder than he ever has. He can't stop looking at you because you're all he can see, all he can ever see these days.
But you, beautiful, sexy, sweet, funny, you can't always accept that. And so the fidget only cements that he wants to show you just how much he wants you, right now.
"I'm admiring," he clarifies, refusing to move his gaze, determined to make you see what he sees.
"Well, admire something else," you answer, refusing to look at him.
Poe almost scoffs to himself. Admire something else? Not fucking likely with his cock impatiently throbbing with need.
"I can't," he leans in close to you, his voice a low hiss. He's genuinely surprised you haven't realised why yet, that it hasn't even been a thought to cross your mind. "You have no idea how much I can't."
He has a fleeting thought about grabbing your hand and showing you exactly what you do to him, but honestly, if you touched him now, he'd probably cum in his pants and ruin all the fun he plans to have with you later.
"Poe."
It's only half a warning. He can see it in your eyes — the flicker of desire. He's an expert at reading you, or at least he likes to think he is, and so far he hasn't been wrong. Maybe he can convince you to leave early. One of you could fake an illness, make your excuses, and stumble back to your room. He reckons he could probably make it as far as the lift before he has you pinned against the wall, your leg held up over his hip, fingers gripping your thigh as you tremble for him.
Kriff, he needed to slow down before he blows his load without so much as a brush of your flesh against his.
Taking a breath to steady himself, his eyes flicker over you once more, reading every micro expression. Yeah, you are starting to want this just as much as he needs it. Bedroom, lift, hell even getting to the door out of here is going to be too much trouble. He isn't making it that far.
"Come sit with me. At least let me hold you," he whispers softly, slipping his hand into yours. Your fingers grip his, warm and soft, suspicion in your eyes. But when he tugs, you follow, allowing him to guide you down onto his lap.
Such a good girl for me.
Your gasp as you sit makes his cock twitch, just the soft friction of your movement enough to start shredding whatever little patience he has left.
"I need you," he whispers against your ear. "I need you, now." He brushes his nose up the column of your neck, inhaling the intoxicating scent of you, wishing he had time, and enough restraint, to climb under the table and taste you before he cums, but he doesn't.
"Poe, we are in public!"
Maybe you are right. Maybe it's time to stop before he gets too far but fuck, he's too far gone. The delicious little wriggle you do on his lap does absolutely nothing to help.
"I can't wait," he groans, his hips rutting against you of their own accord, desperate for any sort of friction. "Please baby, it's been like this all night. Please. I need to be inside you."
He's begging now and he doesn't care. All he can think about is how desperately he needs to feel you soaking his cock, how desperately he wants to show you the effect you have on him, how desperately he wants you to believe you're worthy of it.
Even in the dim lighting, he catches the little smirk at the corner of your mouth. Perhaps you're just a little proud that you can reduce him to this. You have no true idea what you could reduce him to if you wanted to. If you asked he'd get down on his knees and beg you for just a glance in his direction. There isn't anything he wouldn't do for you.
"I'll be good to you," he promises, catching the hem of your dress and dragging it up, splaying his hands against your soft thighs, inching them up higher. "You know how good I can be to you."
You shiver at the touch of his hands and he wonders if your mind fills with memories like his does — back to all the nights you've spent together, your head tipped back on sweat soaked sheets as he worships at the altar of your body.
"If anyone sees…" your voice trails off with a sigh as he presses his lips against your neck, fighting to keep his hands still while he gives you time to consider your position.
"They won't." He's confident in that. If there's one thing he is, it's observant. He knows everyone is too caught up in their own night to worry about the two of you tucked away in a dark corner. The table just about covers your lap, where your dress is hiked up, his hands drifting closer to your hot core. The music is loud enough that nobody will hear you.
They won't see, but honestly, Poe couldn't give a damn if they do. Let them look, let them watch, let them see you are his.
He moves his mouth down your neck, slowly, invitingly, pausing to suck against your pulse point, marking you as his own, his hands pushing your thighs apart. Your pliancy to his actions only fuels his desire for you. He's proud that you allow this, that you trust him to do this. He's absolutely going to make it worth your while. Well, he's at least going to try and last long enough to make it worth your while.
His fingers finally slip between your thighs and it's like his lungs have suddenly collapsed, all the air rushing out suddenly.
You aren't wearing panties. His fingers brush against bare wet, no not just wet, soaked, flesh.
His plan was to gently tease you, make you admit how much you're enjoying this, how much you want this, but somehow his entire vocabulary is erased by the shock.
"Fuck," is all he manages to punch out as he drags his fingers up over your clit, relishing the way your hips jerk in response. He lets out a low whine against your neck as he ruts into your ass, desperate for release.
He swears he almost cums at the gasp you let out when he slips a finger into you. You're so hot. He has to pause for a moment, calming himself as you take a breath of your own, before he finally draws his finger up and over your clit, and then back down, sinking two fingers into you.
"Shouldn't have let you leave the room," he grumbles as you squirm, each jolt of your hips only drawing his attention to his painfully hard cock.
Why did he decide to listen to you about coming to this party? Why did he decide he could wait? Of all the questionable decisions Poe has made in his life, he's putting the one of agreeing to leave the room before burying himself inside you, at least twice, right at the top. Well, at least for now.
He curls his fingers slowly against your walls, his thumb barely stroking your clit with feather light touches, keeping you just tiptoeing the edge. After all you've put him through tonight, you deserve a little payback.
When your wriggling increases and your chest starts to heave with the effort of biting down your moans of pleasure, he licks a hot stripe up your neck, enjoying the way your breath catches and your body jerks.
"Can I fuck you now?"
He waits with bated breath to see how far you'll let him take this.
He'd never push you further than you wanted, never make you do something you're uncomfortable with. If you say no now then he'll wait, as much as it might drive him to the point of absolute madness. At this point, he might just cum in his pants from looking at you anyway.
"Yes," you breathe out, and then you roll your hips back against him. Poe curses loudly, unceremoniously removing his fingers from you and scrambling to undo his pants, every last bit of patience blasted to pieces. Later he'll apologise about the rush, be embarrassed about it, but right now, he has to have you.
His hands grip your hips, probably a little harder than necessary if he was honest, as you take a breath and sink down onto his cock. Poe's eyes roll back and he has to bite down on your shoulder to muffle the moan of pleasure as your walls flutter hot and tight around him.
He realises too late that`s a mistake, and right as his teeth sink into your flesh, your pussy clenches around him. His hips jolt upwards of their own accord, pressing him deeper into you and listening to your choked moan as he fights not to cum then and there.
"Shit baby, don't do that," he warns, taking a trembling breath. "Not unless you want this over really qui-nghh!"
Of course, you do it again. Of course, he should have expected it. But he didn't, and it takes every last bit of self restraint he has not to pin you down over the table and fuck you so hard you'll still feel it tomorrow.
"Stop," he warns, gritting his teeth, trying to think of anything but the searing heat engulfing his dick. "Don't wanna rush this."
You clench again and he growls a frustrated warning. He wants you to just sit still for a damn minute while he catches his breath before this ends too quickly for both of you. But you seem to have no intentions of letting him do that.
Well if it was going to be that way, two could play that game. He was going to drag this out now. Fuck you slowly, deeply, like he has all the time in the world. Poe's stubbornness was the only thing that could outweigh his desperate desire.
He grinds his hips upwards, pressing deep inside you, pulling you down against him as he does, ensuring you feel all of him. Your whole body reacts, and he can't stop the smirk forming on his lips.
There we go baby, take it all for me.
He adjusts just slightly with each grind of his hips until he finds that one spot that makes you whimper. And then he presses against it, again, and again, and again.
Oh, how he relishes in the shivers of your body, the gasps escaping your lips, the beads of sweat rolling down your neck, the clench of your pussy as he holds you still against his lap, forcing you to accept the pleasure, even though he knows he's holding you on the edge of bliss for longer than you would like.
"Good girl, taking me so well," he praises, his voice low against your ear, trying to stop his own breath from heaving, lest you know you could tip him over the edge with one well placed word. "Letting me have you here, where anyone can see us."
The bite of your nails digging into his arms only spurns him on, making his cock throb inside you. He wonders if the marks will still be there tomorrow, something he can admire, something that marks him as yours.
"Driving me crazy in this dress. Lookin' like the hottest fucking thing. Fuck baby, you're so good to me, letting me do this." He knows he's rambling now, but his mouth, as it so often does, is going before his thoughts are connecting. All he can think about is how good you feel, your body pressed against him, anchored by his arms around your waist, your pussy gripping his aching cock as you take all he's willing to give you.
You're so close, he can feel it. Your body is stiff, your nails digging in painfully now, your head leant back against his shoulder, chest heaving, pussy fluttering, whimpering with each slow torturous grind of his hips.
His own climax creeps up far quicker than he's expecting and suddenly he desperately needs to let go. Scrambling to pull your dress up out of the way he presses his fingers against your clit, drawing quick tight circles as you gasp.
He needs you to fall first. He needs to feel what he does to you.
"Cum for me. Cum now," he demands.
Your back arches, your breath catching as you let go of his arms to grip the table, your pussy clenching and fluttering as your climax hits. It's too much and Poe finally lets himself go, burying his moan of satisfaction into your neck, his fingers moving to grip your thighs as you writhe on his lap. He continues to roll his hips slowly, milking every last bit of your climax, savouring each little shiver and whimper until you collapse back against him, boneless.
Even though everything seems hazy around the edges in the post orgasmic bliss, he notices the way your head turns just slightly, checking if anyone has noticed what has transpired.
"Told you nobody would see," he smiles, nuzzling your neck, enjoying the closeness of your body.
"You're lucky," you turn your head to kiss him and his heart jumps. How could there have ever been a time when you thought he wouldn't want you? How could there have been a time you didn't realise he spent every night, cock in hand, thinking about you. How could you not realise he was hopelessly, utterly in love with you?
"I am very lucky," he nods, wishing he could form better words to explain just how lucky he feels. But you're sitting there looking so prettily dishevelled, sweat still drying on your skin, your nail marks in his arms, and he can't think of anything but how much he wants to drag those noises from you again.
"Thanks for helping me take care of that problem." He grins, his hands moving to brush his fingers against the inside of your thighs, slowly inching upwards to where he's still buried deep inside you. "I'll repay the favour later tonight…" he pauses, wondering if you can go again already. "Or now?"
You let out the prettiest noise as his hands creep higher, placing a solitary kiss on your neck. Poe decided that means you need a minute, but he has no intentions of making it an easy minute.
He bites down a groan as his fingers are met with slick wetness, almost halfway down your thighs. Judging by how wet you are, and a small shift of his legs confirms his suspicions as his pants stick to his own skin, there's no way he's moving any time soon anyway.
"I'm sorry baby, but it seems you might have made quite the mess. You're soaked everywhere."
He's about as un-sorry as he can get, his mind already filled with how many more times he can get you to cum before the party is over. How much can you take before it's too much? How many times can he make you whimper? How many times can he make you soak his lap?
You could be stuck here for hours yet, right where you are. The thought makes his cock twitch.
His arms wrap tight around your waist, ensuring you aren't going anywhere anytime soon. He feels you shiver in anticipation as his lips ghost the shell of your ear, a wicked grin forming on his lips.
"I guess you'll just have to sit right there until the party's over."
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