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desolateice · 1 year

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17 for the ao3 wrapped? :]

17. Your favorite character to write this year? This is hard. They're so many that are so fun. 💖 I love writing Daniel's rants and monologues. Whether it's because the fish stick that is mer!Johnny is stretching out his sweaters in Newark, or won't stop cuddling him as a snake!Johnny or ranting about pizza in Root Beer Floats and Green Tea, or being confused about language in Konpeito or all his terribly wonderful ideas it's just fun to write essentially a long internal monologue for him. His spirals while being pretty gutting are also fun to write. And his grief that he carries is also somewhat cathartic to write. I also like making him just a horny mess all the time. My other fav monologuer is Dutch. 😂 In my head no matter where I put him in a story it means chaos and fun is about to happen even if it won't always be fun for Johnny or Daniel. And I love writing him and Bobby because I like to write them as opposites. Bobby trying to keep everyone safe and out of trouble and Dutch ready to burn the world to the ground for fun. Chaos and mischief ready to get into a brawl or murder for his friends and Bobby just trying to reign him in. Though all of the cobras mean fun are on the way. Sometimes a character surprises me pending the fic. As I explored the characters in Okinawa in Root Beer Floats and Green Tea I ended up really enjoying writing Chozen and Kumiko. Which is why Buku Buku Cha exists. Because I looked at Tomi Village and wondered why, why would Chozen snap like and once Buku Buku Cha is over I may write at length about the head cannon reason I have for that. But I also love giving Chozen and Kumiko sibling arguing energy where they love each other but will tease each other to death. The other one that surprised me and I am having a lot of fun writing Sid in Cherry Cordial. I've written further than what's been posted, but I may have accidentally given him some Gomez Addams energy. 😅 Generally I paint him as a black and white villain but he's totally gray in Cherry Cordial and it's kind of fun. I do enjoy writing the adults and extra side characters a lot too, Laura and Lucille and Mr. Miyagi. Miyagi sensei in Buku Buku Cha has been fun too. But despite how much I love them all, really it's probably Johnny whose my favorite to write which is spawned by a curiosity of if he got kindness and love and support that wasn't ripped from him then what would happen intrigues me. If he's given a chance to apologize and actually improve, to grow and to heal that's so fascinating to me to explore. I like I guess poking at his wounds and then healing them. It gives me hope that he can avoid all the awful stuff that happens later so I enjoy writing him and what the relationships with other characters becomes and how it can improve his life. If only he got the support he needs, the care and love. Thank you for asking 💖 It's a lot of fun to answer these.

If anyone else wants to ask, I've answered 2, 5, 10, 16 and 19 the prompt is here.

#asks #writing asks #ask game #thank you #I have so many thoughts about all these characters #Johnny I guess is sort of what if I can write him a happy ending and make him better and help him grow #because cannon kind of feels like what if we can make him worse? And honestly one day I will head into CK with a big ole shovel #and try to make a nice little garden in there #full of growth #I have so many headcannons I want to explore 😅#buku buku cha is partially one for Chozen that I started in RBF&GT but I wanted to explore in depth #really I'm sure there's more I missed because I've had fun writing so much #like okay semifreddo? loved writing Louie in the final chapter 😂 just completely oblivious to the fact he's crashing a date #Louie was also fun in RBF&GT for a similar reason #And Jessica's bromance with Dutch? Also loved writing her #and her friendship with Johnny #And getting to write Julie in California Roll a character who we know nothing about other than she's one of Daniel's ex's #Oh and Susan in Cherry Cordial #Taro and Toshio teasing Chozen and fighting with the cobras is fun too #really I've enjoyed everyone I've written #it'd probably be faster to just say that 😅#maybe one day I'll go on some head cannon monologues myself that aren't hidden behind fic 😅

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eratosmusings · 1 month

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Stolen Destiny (I)

Feyd Rautha x fem!reader

summary: Your father had been promised an heir. But the choices made by another stole that fate from you. Now it's your turn to take theirs.

warnings: adults only, all characters are over 18, smut in future chapters, blood, misogyny, dark themes, canon typical violence

word count: 1.2k

dividers / masterlist

“Again,” the swordmaster calls out.

Gritting your teeth, you comply and fall back in position with the others. All this show for what?

With a nod, a troubadour began to pluck at the strings of her Baliset again. Your feet move in the familiar pattern, hilts of the swords bouncing against your hips. This is a waste of time.

Air stills as the rest of the women swirl away from you when another Baliset, one played with a bow sliding against its strings, joins the melody. The blades gnash against their sheaths in protest as you pull them free. They sing in the air, spinning easily between your fingers. Faster and faster they spin to match the skirts of the others now twirling in a circle around you until the music slows.

Once, twice you clink the blades’ together before you stab one into the plush stool in the center. Soft, slow pattering of the drums begins as you turn your back to it. The sword that remains drags its tip against the stone floor. The women bend a knee where they twirled. Sparks follow when you twist quickly.

This is the silliest part. You face a non existent opponent. Bringing your sword forward you drop into a defensive stance. The music rises and now you fight. Thrust, retreat, parrie, circle, advance, lunge, parrie, retreat, parrie, parrie. On and on it goes until you drop the sword. Your arm extends to the partner who does not exist and spin into nothing as the music reaches a crescendo. Chest heaving, you stay there and stare into the abyss until the music and the last of your dignity finally dies.

One of the girls is quick to retrieve and return the swords to you. In contrast, you’re slow to sheath them. You’re not eager to hear the word you know waits on his tongue. But you can only stall for so long.

You turn and face him. His voice cuts sharply across the silent hall. “Again.”

“You look ridiculous,” your father says under his breath so only you can hear.

A gown, styled after your mother’s House, hung loosely on your frame, hiding any hint of the woman’s body beneath it. You feel ridiculous in it, but had thought it better than the other options. You should have known there was nothing you could have worn that would please him.

“My apologies, father.”

He scoffs. Nothing you do will ever please him.

It’s why you still cannot understand why this celebration is being held. He saw no honor in you being born, why would he see it in you coming of age? And to invite the likes of the Atreides? Was this all some masochistic need to see the son he should have had?

He says outloud, “Don’t embarrass me.” In your head you hear the word he leaves unspoken. ‘Again.’

The Major Houses arrive hours apart, the lucky few Minor Houses invited padding the time between. First is the Princess Irulan. Beautiful, graceful, kind. She compliments you, embracing you as if you’d been friends for life. And it feels as such. A connection left despite the broken destiny. There would be no marriage, but your father whispers that a friendship could offer nearly as much.

The Atreides come next. The Duke is handsome. His concubine, Lady Jessica, hides behind a veil. A Bene Gesserit indeed. Their son, Paul, is charismatic and not as handsome as his father, but more beautiful. He places a kiss on your hand, complimenting your dress and, as he calls them, your lovely eyes. They fall flat on you, but he seems to preen at your own compliment of his hair with a boyish grin painting his face.

Your father’s mood shifts when they and their people are led away to the castle. “Well done. Who knew you could charm so well.” The praise, as backhanded as it is, prickles your skin. “Let’s hope can you keep it up.”

At last, as the sun sets, the Harkonnens arrive.

Pale and hairless, they're intimidating in their black attire. The Baron did not come, instead having his nephews take his place. The eldest, Count Glossu Rabban, is a giant of a man. From the stories you’ve heard, he's a sadist but an idiot. In his shadow lies the true danger.

Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha. He’s deceptively slight next to his brother. But to be the chosen heir for a House like the Harkonnens there must be a brutal intelligence. Like Paul he takes your offered hand and presses his lips against it. They’re cold, chapped and rough. Unlike Paul he offers a grin that had no boyishness left. Blackened teeth bared, he tugs your arm harshly. You stumble forward into him. The hand he doesn’t hold presses against his chest to catch yourself, the one he does hold twisting out of his grip.

Warm metal presses against your throat.

Something akin to amusement dances in his eyes as they rove over your. It’s the only sign that he probably doesn’t want to kill you. There’s a measured pause of his gaze, first on the blade then sinking lower, before it flits back to your own. His voice is raspy as he speaks, “It is a pleasure to be here for your coming of age, my lady.” He leans forward and presses a kiss to your cheek. The blade retreats. His eyes don’t leave yours as he releases you, flips it, and offers you the hilt. “A gift.”

“Thank you,” you say, hoping your voice holds firm, and reach for the dagger.

A hand flashes from behind you with a plea of, “Allow me, my lady,” from a guard.

Feyd, tisked, pulling it out of reach. “It is not a gift for you.”

You’re unceremoniously knocked aside when the guard steps between you. “She will be given it after an inspection.”

“An inspection is unnecessary,” you hiss, face warming. It was embarrassing enough he’d managed to catch you and your court so off guard. But to openly suspect him of intending harm, after such a brazen display of weakness, would cement the failure of any good relations between your houses. Your father would never forgive you.

“He poisons his blades,” the guard insists, not quietly enough.

Feyd-Rautha’s laugh is harsh. He turns to the Harkonnens behind him, lifts his arms, and bellows, “He worries I poison the blade!” It humors them. Rabben guffaws as if he’s never heard a funnier joke. When he faces you again his black grin is even wider. He stares down the guard as he slices the blade across his open palm. Blood soils the blade and drips on the stone beneath him. His eyes shift to you again. His tongue juts out. In a grotesque exhibition he licks it. “Death does not wait for you in my hands today.”

“I never suspected it did, Na-Baron,” you agree, stepping around the guard. He moves to stop you, but a harsh glare has him backing down. There’s still a chance to save this. Appease the Harkonnens and quell your father’s resentment you can feel rolling off him in waves behind you. Feyd offers the hilt again and you take it. The blade slices across your own palm without hesitation, your blood joining his on the stone. You extend your hand to him again.

a/n: my first fic! any thoughts would be appreciated 🥰

be my muse

next chapter

#feyd x reader #feyd rautha x reader #feyd x you #feyd smut #dune part two #feyd rautha x you #stolen destiny

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tarjapearce · 7 months

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Strawberry Jam (Pt. 3 Finale)

Dad Best Friend! Miguel x reader

WARNING: FILTHYNESS UNDER CUT. P in v, unprotected sex, age gap implied, Dad Best Friend Miguel, breeding kink, wedding night sex, rough sex, manhandling, oral, m receiving, f receiving, reader is 21+ , pregnancy.

Summary: You've married Miguel. Celebration ensues.

Comments and reblogs are highly appreciated 😊✨

If someone would have told you that you'd marry your dad best friend a few years back, you surely had believed them crazy.

Back then Miguel meant someone to stay away from, out of respect for your dad and the many years they shared as friends. But after that evening you had shared, with him buried deep inside you in the kitchen island, everything changed. And it went both ways.

It changed for good since there was no more restrictions and inhibitions. No moral code that prevented him for coming for you and sweeping off your feet. Your dad wasn't happy initially, and his anger lasted for a couple of months.

But slowly thawed when he saw Miguel also trying his best in being a good partner for you. His friendship was also put at stake and that took a while to fix as well.

Your dad was both disturbed yet relieved, to put it in words. Disturbed because one of his worst case scenarios had turned into a wicked reality. Something he had a hard time accepting, despite him telling you it was ok.

Being angry wouldn't make you both break up, and it only made his blood pressure to go up. But his role as a protective father had been long terminated ever since Miguel came to your life as your official partner.

He wouldn't have to worry for your wellbeing anymore. He knew you'd be more than fine with him.

It helped to soothe his nerves to see you close to Gabriella. Something that took you a while.

Gabi wasn't easily convinced, but seeing your unwavering and steadfast resolution to be with her precious Papa, and that you didn't want to steal him from her, made everything ten times better.

To starters, Miguel seemed happy that Gabi had accepted you, despite her initial doubts and complains. His relationship with Gabi was always a hundred percent honesty and trust. He could never hide something from his little girl.

Despite your age, and many people thinking you a gold digger, you remained on Miguel's side. Supporting him as he protected you from snide comments and jealousy from the people in Alchemax. While he got congratulated for finding such a lovely and delectable soon to be wife, you got the backlash from the women and upper boss' that either never had a chance with him, or were too much of a bunch of prudes to accept the fact you were marrying him.

He quit a couple of weeks later after you did. And no amount of money could convince him to get him back. It was simple.

"If you aren't comfortable working there, neither I am."

Of course he was tired of hearing things like 'I'll give them a year.' 'She just wants him for the money. Get him a richer dude and you'll see.' And 'She's so naive if she thinks he loves her. He's a perv old man.'

Only you knew how much Miguel loved you, and he knew you too well to pay attention to gossip and brickbats.

You both found a new job in a better place, even if that meant you'd move in definitely with Miguel.

You were concerned because no matter how many times he came inside, there was still no signs of a baby. To your relief, doctor explained that after many years of being in contraceptives your body would have an adjustment lapse for all the hormones to be flushed out of you. Pregnancy would come, eventually.

It was good and bad. Good cause Miguel fucked you dumb for hours almost everyday, and bad cause you couldn't wait to get a bigger family on your own.

Obviously you were excited and so was Miguel and Gabi.

But a new adventure laid ahead. Your wedding.

----

Miguel had invited a couple of his coworkers a woman named Jessica, and a couple of men named Peter and Ben. The only family worth inviting was Gabriel.

Gabi was the ring lady. It was a small and intimate reunion. Once you were delivered in the altar, Miguel held your hands. A sense of pride filled in his chest.

You looked absolutely gorgeous in that short silky dress. Like his own dream come true. And when the moment of saying 'I do' came, neither of you hesitated.

All the bad moments you both had gone through, quickly dissipated to be replaced with joy and love. He loved you.

Gabi loved you, and you couldn't be happier.

You were his queen after all.

----

After the private wedding you all went to celebrate to one of the most delicious and luxurious places in town.

"You better eat, mi amor. You'll need alot of energy."

He'd mumble in your ear as his hand caressed the suppleness of your inner thigh.

Gabi was left with uncle Gabriel, and with a final hug, your father let you go.

Your dad rolled his eyes and Miguel sniggered as you both went to his car.

"I'll take care of her."

"Shut up."

Miguel opened the door for you and kissed your cheek before letting his new wife to accommodate in his car. He then went to his seat and drove off.

"Bye dad!"

"Love you, cupcake!"

"We're married."

You giggled and he took your hand to kiss it.

The car stopped to a red light and he pulled your cheeks closer to give you a deep kiss. The kind of kiss that would mean he needed you. The kind of kiss that would turn into this raging ache for eachother that could be sated one way.

"Do you feel happy?"

"Obviously."

Your body shuddered upon the feeling of his dexterous fingers hovering your clothed pussy. Your legs spreaded for him to have more access.

"Can't wait to get to that hotel, preciosa."

Your hips humped softly his hand, earning a soft yet delicious friction.

"Pull that dress down, mi amor." He instructed as you quickly slid the straps of your silky white dress off your shoulders, spilling your breast for him. The idea of getting caught seemed even more thrilling when a group of people marched infront of your car. Of course they couldn't see what was going on inside.

His penchant for exhibitionism had rubbed hard on you. Just like his suck on one of your nipples. A wet patch filtered through your cotton panties.

Your hand wasted no time in squeezing his crotch. He gulped.

"I've always wanted to do this."

Your giggles increased as you unzipped his pants and peeled his cock our of his confinements.

"Are you hungry, cariño?" He heaved as you pumped him softly, earning a hiss and a low growl from him.

You kissed him once more before stuffing your mouth with his cock.

He threw an arm over your seat, relaxed as you sucked him.

"Fuuck- take deep breaths, Princesa" His eyes shut close for a moment, but the sudden mini concert of honks snapped his attention back to the road.

He drove carefully. Steady breaths huffed out of his mouth as you took him deeper. All that cock sucking training had been worth it.

"Jesucristo, hermosa"

His eyes drooped as your tongue focused on his tip. Wet sucking noises etched in his memory, and my God, he loved them.

"Lemme... lemme find a... Dios mío-" He choked as your hand pumped him faster as your lips busied themselves with his sac, "Lemme park. I can't-" He gasped when you took him whole once more, your throat shamelessly constricting against him.

"Yes~" He hissed as his hips bucked, trying to fuck your lips. You whimpered and let him go last minute. He took a fistful of your hair and pulled you to kiss him. Tasting himself in the process.

Smirking you went back to your seat after fixing his pants. Seeing him all rizzed and worked up made your boldness to spike. Your hips shimmied away from the cotton contraption, and you threw them in the back seat of the car.

"Miguel?"

His eyes immediately went between your spreading thighs. Your back rested against the passenger door and your fingers delved in between your slick folds.

His mouth gaped. His throat dried in dire need of a drink of you. A finger slid inside. The squelching sound it did sent shivers down his spine.

"Look at what you do to your poor wife, Miguel"

"That's so not fair, cariño. I'm driving"

He bit his lip at the sight. You were soaked and ready to be filled to the brim. Just the way he loved.

"Keep playing with it, though. Love hearing you cum"

Your soft moans and wet pussy made his insides tingle. All he had to do was wait to get to the hotel so he could actually get his revenge on you. And by God he would enjoy it.

"Wish it was you inside me" You whimpered as your fingers delved in deeper, tight hole melding at your finger's size.

"You'll have me, preciosa. Just wait."

Your soaked fingers toyed and curled on your insides, earning more coos and moans. His feet pressed the accelerator deeper as he drove through the streets.

"Faster, mi amor"

He instructed giving occasional glances at the mess you were creating between your legs. A mess he would love to stuff his face in right now. His cock twitched almost painfully at hearing you touching and toying with yourself next to him. He had ruined you in so many ways he couldn't help but feel pride. And now that you were his wife, none could tell him no.

A smirk stretched on his meaty lips when the hotel came into view

You quickly went through the motions, check in, people taking your luggage to your room and blah blah blah.

"Stop." You whined but complied. Your body could almost taste your orgasm. But seeing the hotel coming closer in your vision relaxed your aching cunt. You didn't care if he had to take you on the elevator, but he needed to do something, instead he took your fingers and licked them clean to then kiss you.

---

He locked the door after putting the 'Do not disturb' sign outside the door. A chill invaded you as his gaze fell on you. You ran with an excited squeal and he chased with a wolfish grin plastered on his face.

Graying strands bounced as he pounced on you. Hands took a hold of your dress and ripped it in half.

His lips mumbled desperately on yours as he removed his clothes. His hulking figure cornered you against one of the suit's pillars.

"Hey!"

"Cállate. Te voy a conseguir otro" (Shut up. I'll get you another one)

Hot and desperate mouth mapped your skin as one hand held you by the neck.

"Need you now, preciosa."

His tongue curled in your folds as his other hand kneaded your thigh, prying it open before he sunk his face in between them.

Your eyes clamped shut at the sensation of him prodding and tasting you. Spine arched against the column as he kneeled and ate you. His hunger grew urgent with every lick and lap he delivered to your quivering flesh.

You gasped as he placed you to sit ontop of your shoulders, your hand grabbing his hair to push him impossibly closer to your soaked and loved pussy.

One of his hands secured your lower back, as the other held tightly on your thigh, securing you in place as he hoisted you up. You rode his face eagerly, getting as much friction as you could from his lips and tongue. A firm slap on your ass encouraged you to ride faster. Your clit trembled with joy at every contact he did with his mouth. He groaned.

The low vibrations of his groans ignited the spark for your aching release. His slaps alternated between rough squeezes. Your thighs smothered his head, trapping him tightly. Lightheadnesss rushing through your brain, as your breaths turned shorts and shallow.

"I'm cumming!" You whimpered as your body went taut to then tremble. He drank from you, quenching his longing thirst. He placed you gently on the bed to then spread your legs.

The stretch his cock did inside felt deliciously painful. Legs wrapped around his narrow waist as he hoisted you once more against his chest to then hook your thighs on his forearms as his hands held you by your ass. Your arms went around his neck, holding onto him.

His hips rammed into you.

Your mouth went slack as your body trembled. Your insides kept constricting since you were still riding your high but he didn't care. He'd never get tired for the way your tight walls melted and shivered around him. It was addictive. Like the sheer and raw need for eachother you were basked in.

His hands guided your hips, a sweet and wet slap echoed into the room.

Your fingers sunk into his salt and pepper hair. His fangs pulling at your bottom lip. An iron grip squeeze and it was all he needed to rut in an air-knocking and jaw slacking pace.

Your head lolled to the sides, trying to grasp onto a coherent thought but none came. There was nothing but pleasure in your head. Each thrust reached deeper until his tip made out with your cervix. Nothing but the sounds of your drooling pussy taking everything he mustered at you and his low growls.

His pace increased into a faster tempo, and you curled into the crook of his neck, voice rasping and begging for him to not stop. The inside friction felt raw and hot, almost maddening at how well your walls welcomed him over and over. Inviting him to nest within them.

Sweat etched to his forehead and upper chest and back. Your meek attempts of marking him only added enough spice for his hips to keep wrecking your hole.

The feeling of your ass bouncing on his hands at every thrust he did and your breathless coos and begs, made him to grip tighter and fuck you rougher.

Mewlings turned into loud and choked wails as he drilled you through

"Give it to me, preciosa" He fisted your hair as he sheathed completely into you, and you creamed and gushed while your body convulsed.

"Such a fucking good girl,"

The contractions around his cock felt like a delicious kiss, just like the one he gave you.

He laughed softly at your state.

"You think we're done, Mi reina? How cute."

You panted like a fish out of water as he flipped you over on the bed and melded your body like putty.

His hand pushed your face deeper in the mattress as he planted his feet on each side of you.

"Levanta ese culo. Will fuck it like a husband should." (Raise that ass)

He slapped your quivering cheeks to lift your hips up himself. You were too high and cock drunk to listen to what he was saying. Your breast flattened against the bed, his feet planted on each side of your hips. One of his hands guided his tip inside you again to then hold at the metal headboard before him for leverage.

"M-Miguel!" You sobbed as he thrusted inside in a swift move.

"This is gonna be your treatment until you grow a fucking baby inside , sweetheart"

The relentless push had your eyes far far gone as he kept bullying his cock in such a brutal pace you'd thought he'd split you in two. He was so good at manhandling and stretching you open, and you were even better at taking it. Excelled even.

The constant slapping had you wheezing and your ass flushed. Your previous cum rolled down your inner thighs, it made easier for him to slid in an out.

And just when you thought he'd stop, he'd just slow down to unleash an onslaught of deep and merciless thrusts.

You clung to the sheets for dear life as meek and muffled sobs escaped you with effort. Your throat felt scrapped raw, he smirked at feeling your walls twitching again.

The bead and headboard creaked at his rutting. Your toes curled in and your jaw clenched at the force you crashed down. You soaked him, making a hot mess of your cunt. But that didn't stop him.

He pushed deeper a few more times before holding your hips in such a steely grip you were sure you'd get bruises and spilled into you. Hot and thick blobs of his cum painting your walls white.

He clawed at your skin as he panted and growled. One of his hands slicked his hair back and sighed with a satisfied yet wicked smile, but frowned upon watching his cum rolling down your clit.

"No no. it must stay inside." He grumbled as his fingers collected his cum to push it back inside and then slapped your ass. Earning another whimper of you.

His arms cradled you as his body smothered you. His lips showered your flushed face in kisses.

"Te ves tan preciosa así." (You look so beautiful like this)

You couldn't help but squeal while you hugged Miguel upon seeing the two parallel lines in the pregnancy test.

You scooted closer in his arms with the little energy you had left. Letting your shaken brain to finally take a rest, letting his hushed 'I love yous' and his gentle caresses on your hair lull you to sleep.

----

All the raw fucking had finally paid off. He cupped your cheeks and kissed you.

"Told you I'd make a mami out of you. preciosa"

You giggled as you texted your dad.

He chuckled and kissed you again.

"What are you doing?"

"Making my dad feel old and giving him the news."

He placed a hand on your lower belly and smiled.

"Wait til Gabi finds out."

"I hope it's a girl"

-------

"Are you happy?"

"More than happy, yes. I'm gonna be a mom!"

"A wonderful one, for sure."

Taglis

@um-well @capmedusa @migueloharaslxt @thbidkbutok @joestarbitch @angelarcheangel @ewan-tef @gejo333 @hyunrelics @topreice @luvstich@loonalockley @allysunny @punk-22 @jesterglitch @sc4rltwitch @roselove105 @spikedhe4rt @tallmanlover @elfwoodfae @miaasmf @lainekyuu @keiva1000

@nianawrites @leviathxn @tatatida @gabrielarose29 @pedr0swh0r3 @

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara smut #spiderman 2099 smut #dbf miguel #Dad best friend AU #Older! miguel o'hara #smut #atsv smut #miguel o'hara fluff #t writes✨

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cerealbishh · 4 days

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isabel being affectionate with her pearson cast members!

#pearson 2019 #pearson usa #pearson suits #yoli castillo #derrick mayes #jessica pearson #isabel arraiza #eli goree #gina torres #i miss isabel doing press in person!!!#let her come to do press with her outer range castmates so i can get crumbs of their friendship!

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taintandviolent · 1 year

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Ouija Board (Tate Langdon x Reader)

Summary: You have a sleepover at your new house, and your friend decides to bring out your Ouija board. But, you’re all teenage girls, so the questions are completely unhinged and un-serious. But, the ghost you’re talking to takes full advantage of the situation. It’s a perfect opportunity, he’s been watching for you weeks. You’re living in his room, afterall.

warnings: 2.9k words -- self insert! female receiving. shameless smut. post-death Tate, ghost sex, cunnilingus, handjob, rough sex, unprotected sex, mention of ghosts/death.

Ao3 link here! Full fic below the cut! 18+.

tagged: @zabelcolin @kaismanwich @elsamars @thewolveswithin @marylovesevanpeters @80strashbag @r-3tro @twinkiemaximoff @milkovich-misfit {dm/ask to be added!}

It was the third week in the new house.

It was the first time that you actually felt at home. Somehow, you’d managed to make two friends from school, which was equally as shocking to you as it was to your parents. In previous schools, you’d always been on the outskirts, bored stiff at the idea of socialising. When you’d announced to your dad at dinner that you’d actually braved the choppy shores of friendship, he’d nearly choked on his coffee.

“That’s wonderful! Why don’t you invite them over for dinner tonight?” Your mom asked, setting her mug down on the table. You rocked your foot back and forth, mulling over the idea. Previously, your days off from school had been spent unpacking and checking around corners, listening to the creaking and whining of an old house.

Your mother was delighted with its age, commenting on the Tiffany glass and wood — but you felt things that had rotted underneath the wood. Things that whispered when your back was turned, or lingered in the kitchen when you went for a glass of water in the middle of the night.

“Okay, sure.”

So that night, instead of flicking the light switch off in your bathroom and making a beeline for your bedroom, you sat on the floor with Jessica, Angie, a dish of pizza rolls and three glasses of grape soda.

You swallowed the mouthful, and nodded. “No, I’m serious. This house is weird. The first week I was here, in the kitchen… I saw a blonde lady with a hole in the back of her head.”

Jessica snapped the book she was leafing through, and turned. “I bet she was murdered. Don’t you have an Ouija board?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, pointing towards the bookcase. “Never used it, though.”

“You’re going to. This is much more fun than going to Town Hall and asking for records on previous owners. Sometimes, they don’t include death certificates — which is obviously what everyone is interested in. That’s the good stuff.” It took all of three minutes for Jessica to set it up. In unison, the three of you delicately placed two fingers on the planchette.

“Okay… so, what do we ask?”

You chewed on the inside of your lip, thinking.

“Is there anyone here with us?” You blurted out.

The planchette skidded to life, circling in the middle of the board. You’d seen it happen in movies, but the actual sensation was an unsettling one. YES. You all exchanged looks, searching for any guilty expressions — but it seemed that none of you had opted to play any tricks. The planchette had moved by itself.

“Did you die here?” Angie asked.

YES.

Jessica gasped. “Ooooh, what if it’s a cute ghost boy like in Casper? Can I keep you?”

Completely enrapt with the idea, she turned her attention to the board, and asked, “Is the spirit in this room male?”

YES.

“Well, that rules out Miss Hole in her Head.” You cleared your throat, focusing on the printed letters. “Have you been the one in my room every night?”

“The one in your room every night?!” Jessica hissed, shooting a pointed look at you. You shrugged apologetically. Angie, who was visibly uneasy with the entire idea, almost fell backwards when the spirit answered.

YES.

“Oh my god!?” Jessica hung her head between her arms, laughing. “It’s probably some old grandpa with a shrimp dick, let’s be real here.”

“Bet. I’ll find out. Do you have a big dick, Mr. Ghost?” You asked.

Again, the planchette zipped to YES. Whoever he was, he didn’t hesitate. Cute. The three of you howled, laughing at the ridiculousness of the question. Angie desperately tried to redirect the conversation by asking the ghost what it wanted. The planchette spelled out HER.

Jessica lifted her fingers, and Angie screeched at her to return them. “If you don’t say goodbye, the spirit will have an open invitation to come into you!”

“To come!?” Jessica mocked. “To come into me?! Oh, the horror — don’t come into me! Pull out first, Ghost.”

Angie scowled. “You’re so gross.”

As they bickered, you stared at the planchette. It was still active, despite Angie and Jessica’s attention being pulled away. It quivered back and forth, as though it was shaking nervously.

Once Jessica’s wandering mind had been reigned back in, the three of you managed a few more more questions; some about murder, some about occult, and some about other ghosts in the house. Eventually, the sun disappeared from your window, plunging your room into darkness, and your mother called the three of you down to eat. Your friends stayed for about an hour after dinner, and they’d seemingly forgotten about the Ouija board. You hadn’t, though. You leaned your back against the door, the coldness of the glass piercing through your cotton shirt. Your eyes trailed up the staircase, following the bend of the bannister as it curved to the left. Before you made your way upstairs to ready yourself for bed, you craned your neck down the hall, trying to listen for the whispers.

You sat upright in your bed, gasping for air. The book clutched in your hand fell to the floor with a thud. You hadn’t even really remembered falling asleep, but the creak of your floorboards had woken you up. You were met with nothing but the silence and glittering darkness of the room while your eyes adjusted. Eventually, the speckles turned into furniture pieces; your dresser, your mirror, your bookcase… everything seemed in order. The clock on your bedside table incessantly blinked 2:34 AM.

Something skidded across the floor, a spinning blur of tan and black. You yelped, throwing yourself up against your headboard. Your room was silent save for that sound of something hard scooting against a flat surface. You took a deep breath, and crept forward gingerly, wincing each time your mattress creaked.

You gripped the edge of your bed frame tightly, knuckles paling. You peered over. In the middle of the floor where you’d been sitting earlier, the Ouija board was laid out. The planchette swept across the board as it had earlier, but this time with no hands to guide it. It zipped across the board aggressively, as though it was trying to get your attention.

“Hello?”

The triangle paused, then slowly drifted to hello.

Dumbfounded, your mouth opened and closed. You were at a loss — because no horror movie had ever given you any idea how to politely hold a conversation with a spirit outside of the traditional setting.

“Um…. can I… help you? Are you here to possess me?”

Stupid. That was stupid.

Watching as the planchette swept across the board, you read the letters allowed.

“L…A…Y…. Lay? Lay. Okay. B…A…C…K? Lay back?” You waited for further confirmation, but the planchette stayed still for a moment.

It started spinning again, quickly spelling out a final instruction. “Close my eyes. Lay back and close my…. eyes.”

You heaved a sigh, and against your better judgement, you did. You shimmied back underneath the covers, pulling them up to your chest, and waited. The seconds were excruciating, and you were sure some horror movie had to have started like this.

The duvet rustled at the bottom of the bed, and all at once, a gust of cold air hit your feet. The mattress gave to the weight of someone, and you yelped at the feeling of clothed shoulders nestling in between your thighs.

A broad hand ghosted across your stomach, fiddling the scalloped edge of your pyjama shorts. It swooped into your inner thigh, then circled down along your knee. Though the actions were soft, you couldn’t help but feel the knot forming in your stomach. Letting out a soft whimper, you bit your lip, clamping down hard. One hand slid up, caressing the curve of your ribs. You writhed. “You’re driving me insane…” you whispered harshly. Had you really been that touch starved?

Lips hovered over your inner thigh, the hot breath washing over the warm skin. A single finger ran along the inside, trailing further and further up. He slowed as he neared you, wordlessly asking for permission.

“Please,” you begged, doing everything you could not to scoot your hips down into him and embarrass yourself any further. “Please…”

He continued. The pad of his finger floated over you, stroking, teasing until the wetness soaked through the threads. The hands disappeared, but only to return to the sides, where they gripped the waistband, tugging them softly off your hips.

You took a deep breath and immediately clamped your hand over your mouth, muffling the shrill whine that tried to escape. Whoever he was, lapped at your cunt like it was a melting ice cream cone, and it didn’t take long for it to start weeping, soaking the green sheets beneath you.

Your chest rose and fell quickly, and your eyelids fluttered, overwhelmed with the sensation. Everything was white and on fire. Your thighs trembled deep within the muscle with every flick of his tongue. Were you really getting eaten out by a ghost? Was that actually happening? You felt silly acknowledging that. His tongue flattened out against your clit and you let out a whine, erasing every other thought. He pressed his face deeper into your wet folds, tongue flicking at the underside of your clit.

“Fffffuck, oh my god.”

You had to know. You swallowed, and tightened your lips into a thin line. You were ready for whatever horrifying visual would meet you. With one final surge of courage, you flipped the covers up, opened your eyes and gazed into the tented darkness. A head of soft, blonde curls bobbed softly between your legs.

“HELLO?!” It wasn’t a greeting, but the boy lifted his head from your cunt. Two dark eyes glimmered at you from beneath the duvet.

“Hey,” he said, chin glistening. “I’m Tate. I used to live here.”

“You’re so…. cute?”

He smiled crookedly, the dimples in his cheek deepening. “Were you expecting Freddy Krueger or something?”

Your head fell back on the pillow like an anvil and a breathy laugh broke your pants. “Yeah, maybe. Jesus Christ…. I don’t know. I’ve never had a ghost between my legs.”

“You liked it. You’re so wet.” He was pleased with himself, you could tell. Reaching one finger up to stroke your opening, he angled his head to watch the way you clenched and squirmed at his touch.

“Was I… were you the one I was talking to with my friends?” He nodded. He shifted his weight, manoeuvring himself up until he was above you, supporting himself with hands on either side of your neck.

“I’ve been watching you since you moved in, Y/N… I didn’t want to scare you away.” He confessed, searching your face. “I’ve wanted you for weeks.”

You were scrambling to keep your thoughts in one manageable bundle. On one hand, this scenario was insane and you were sick to be enjoying it. On the other… sure, he was dead, but he was easily one of the cutest boys you’d ever seen and the way he wanted you was intoxicating. His dark eyes darted from your lips to your eyes, wordlessly asking for permission. You craned your neck up to meet him, pressing into his plush, pink lips.

You’d never been one of those boy crazy teenagers, but you understood the cathartic release that sex brought. It was carnal and natural. You’d only ever slept with one other person, so the hunger was never sated, and you were left quietly fingering yourself after your parents fell asleep. Every time you’d had the chance to have made out with someone though, you tasted them. Deeply. Kissing someone released their scent, the one that only intimate partners got. And none of them had ever been as heady and addictive as Tate was. You tilted your head to get further into his waiting mouth, swirling your tongue with his. You whimpered, sending a moan down his throat.

You reached under, sliding your hands down his stomach. The tiniest trail of hair guided you to the waistband of his jeans, where you made quick work of the buttons. Breaking the kiss only to help with scooting his jeans over the curve of his ass, Tate quickly returned his lips against yours, his tongue moving past your lips eagerly.

Although you were going in blind, it wasn’t difficult to find his cock. Not only did it take up most of the space between you two, but it was hot to the touch, the heat radiating from beneath the thin fabric of his boxers. You pressed your hand against him, getting an idea for the length.

“Huh. So, you weren’t lying about that.” Tate’s hips ground against your palm in response. You reached up, flipping the elastic down so you could slip your hand in, dragging your fingers along the soft tip. Your palm was immediately slick with his precum; the thick fluid coated the soft skin. You used your thumb to smear some of it to the underside of the head, teasing at the ridges. He groaned, burying his face into your neck.

“I didn’t lie about anything you asked me.”

You began stroking him underneath the sheets in slow, full movements and Tate’s breathing hitched, hips bucking forward involuntarily. You sped up, feeling warm droplets dribble onto your exposed tummy. Your thumb pressed into the squishy flesh of his head, not expecting the reaction that followed.

“Mm-uh—please. Please, I want you. Please.” He was begging, whining, and his big brown eyes were filled with a pathetic yearning that made your walls soak even further.

“So do it.”

He wasted no time in completing your demand. He sat up, the covers falling off his back.Tate gripped himself, giving his cock a few pumps before he lined himself up, pressing his hot, leaking tip into your entrance. Snatching the opportunity from him, you bucked your hips up to his, forcing his cock inside. You clenched around him hungrily and Tate let out a throaty whine as he pushed the remaining length into you.

He started out slow, taking his time as he slid in and out of you, but the slick pull of your walls each time he slid out unravelled his concentration. Each thrust seemed a little more desperate than the last, his balls slapping against you, splashing the mixture of his spit and your cum against your inner thighs. Bottoming out inside of you, he arched his neck backwards, letting it hang heavy. “Are you a virgin?”

“Wha — no.” You breathed, adjusting your head on the pillow to look at him. Odd question to ask in the middle of the deed. “Why?”

Tate swallowed, and between pants, said, “Because…. you’re so wet.” He dropped forward, pressing his forehead against yours. His cock was still inside, the girth hitting you at a new angle, and the fullness made your stomach clench.

“I’m going to fuck you hard, okay? Tell me if I’m hurting you. I don’t want to hurt you.”

You nodded fervidly, and slithered your hands underneath his sweat-soaked shirt until it gathered. Tate lifted his arms, and allowed you to slip the shirt over them. You tossed it towards the edge of the bed, and raked your nails along his naked chest.

“Please.” It was your turn to beg. Tate backed his hips out, pulling himself from your warmth. “I want it.”

He dropped back down to his hands, getting a tight grip on the mattress behind you. His lips met yours again, hungrily. It provided only a momentary distraction, because the second that Tate started pounding into you, you could focus on nothing else — except suppressing your aroused screams. He scooted closer to you on the bed, angling himself to get deeper.

He was hitting every spot he could, and your breaths quickened as he fucked you closer to the edge. You bit down on your lip, squeezing your eyes shut. He had just started, and you were already about to lose it.

“Are you gonna’ cum? Huh?” Tate asked, now struggling to keep his rhythm. If you were close, he seemed to be closer — and you didn’t feel so bad. Tate reached down, pulling himself out to slide the tip of his cock over your clit a few times before stuffing it back in. Your lips parted in a soundless scream as you felt the unmistakable warmth filling you, the quivering in your legs, and the desperate, spasming arch of your back.

“Fuck, fuck,” Tate chanted, feeling your orgasm as it gripped him in a wet, pulsing chokehold. “Fuck!”

As he spilled into you, Tate fell atop of your body, pressing his sweaty forehead against yours. His hips were on autopilot, erratically bucking with each gush. You winced, on the verge of overstimulation. Gradually, his thrusts slowed.

He flopped over on the side of you, one hand stroking the outside of your thigh delicately. He was gazing at you dreamily when you turned to face him.

“So, do I have to bring out the Ouija board each time I want to see you?”

Tate propped his head up on his hand. “You want to see me again?”

You rolled your eyes to the ceiling, a taunting smile curling around your swollen lips. “Uhhh… yeah.”

“I can be here every night if you want.” He purred.

“Haven’t you been anyway? Or did you lie about that?”

Tate’s brows pulled upwards, looking hurt. “I told you — I didn’t lie about anything! I’d never lie to you!”

“Okay, shh —“ You silenced him with your lips. “I’ll be right back. I have to pee.”

For the first time since you’d moved in, you weren’t afraid of ghosts as you walked to the bathroom. You were just afraid that the one in your bedroom would be gone when you got back.

He wasn’t, though.

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