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#i'm not proof-reading this one sorry
quotidian-oblivion · 4 months
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Helloooo! Don't think I've done one of these in a while :)
Tell me about a time a kid younger than you (sibling, cousin, child you babysat) did something you were proud of them for, but you knew an adult would not approve of.
bye now!
I love this one. Thank you.
Boy oh boy, with three little siblings, you know I have stories. Many of them.
Oof, which ones to choose...
Sister B, when she was around two, cat-fought another toddler-age boy over a balloon which he was trying to steal from her very own hands at McDonalds. His dad was around but didn't stop him. My sister won the fight against that boy with her own two violent toddler hands.
Sister A, she goes picks and chooses friends like one does strawberries, never minding their feelings, and putting herself first. Though I do lecture her about being nicer to people, she managed to do something which I could not: dictate her own life with the people she wants to hang out with.
Sister C, when she was in her toddler years, just. did whatever she wanted. She was the embodiment of "do what you want with life". While the rest of us were keeping a five foot distance from a dog and trying to be on our best behavior for the adults, she was there, slaying, getting licked by dogs twice the size of her, and entering an unknown apartment and eating their washing powder while the whole family ran up and down looking for her. She doesn't do that now, but by God, was she a handful.
Regarding other kids, I've worked with children a lot and since I'm the eldest daughter, I've looked after them a lot at parties and such too.
I've seen a kid say "No" to someone who wanted to cuddle them, horrifying the adults and her mom.
I've seen a kid run a line of questions over an order their parent gave them which was perfectly logical and warranted while the parent was frustrated they just didn't do what they were told.
I've seen a kid on the bus who stared at their grandmother with the most neutral face and responded to her very public yelling with calm, yet firm statements and handle her temper in such a diplomatic way, it would put any president or monarch to shame.
I've had a student who was the class clown and disrupted the class so much that he even drove me crazy, who talked back to me with statements and comments which had the understanding and knowledge level of a young adult while he was just a 10-year-old boy that he ended up being my favorite despite making fart noises to make everyone laugh in the midst of me explaining something.
I've had a kid who continued crying and wailing loudly in the face of someone telling him that he's not allowed to cry because he's a man.
I've seen so many kids display such brave, confident, intelligent, kind and admirable actions. I don't know why or how so many adults get irritated with them just because "they're kids" and are "supposed to do what they're told".
But overall, my absolute favorite and top moment, is with my youngest sister when after a line of questioning, she admitted that a bad thing she did was her fault and she did that by herself, moving me to tears because grown, mature adults would never admit to something that was their fault, but a 7-year-old said it with genuineness and regret so freely by herself.
Hell, so many children display strong levels of emotional intelligence but are squashed down by adults undermining them instead of supporting them and teaching them how to use their skills for good.
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aresianrepose · 1 year
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Before the semester kicks off and murders me, @disniq​ asked for my essay on Jason Todd and hysteria. So, without further ado, here is an actual essay (fucking dissertation) because I refuse brevity. It is extremely long. I’ve split it into sections so you can find the section header and read what you want. This does not encompass all the narrative trauma themes and lived experiences that this boy holds, just specifically hysteria. 
Jason Todd, The Hysteric & Bruce Wayne, The Batman
I think it’s a common reading that Jason Todd is girl-coded and the patron saint of victims, at least within the circle that I’ve fallen into within this fandom. There are plenty of meta discussions on why those readings stand, so I’m not going to reiterate them. A pillar of him being girl-coded and someone trauma survivors have latched onto as one of our own has to do with being written in the context of hysterical femininity. And let me just say, I don’t think that writing was done in a way that he was intentionally coded as hysterical, but it is a function of our patriarchal society that this coding was used on him albeit without the explicit purpose of writing a hysteric story. 
For the purpose of this post: the word woman includes ciswomen, transwomen, and any person who is socially positioned as a woman regardless of gender identity. I include the positionality here because anyone can experience misogyny and sexism depending on the perception of the perpetrators either interpersonally or systemically. 
The History and Context of Hysteria
To understand the context, we have to look at the history and oppression of hysteria. Hysteria (in the modern context of psychology) emerged in the nineteenth century and is difficult to define by design and often applied to traumatized, unruly, and broken women. The main patriarchs who contributed to hysterical study were Jean-Martin Charcot and Sigmund Freud. I only mention this because it’s important to know their names moving forward for any of this to make sense. The beginning of this started with Charcot literally putting women whose lives had been marked by rape, abuse, exploitation, and poverty on display in his Tuesday lectures (which were open to the public) to show his findings on hysteria. This was actually seen as restoring dignity (fucking yikes) to the women because before Charcot these hysterical women were cast aside and not treated at all. In Charcot’s work, the women’s speech was seen as simply “vocalization” and their inner lives, their stories, their words, were silenced. After hearing a woman cry for her mother during one of the public sessions Charcot remarked, “Again, note these screams. You could say it’s a lot of noise over nothing” (Herman). 
This led to Freud, Charcot’s student, wanting to surpass his teacher by discovering the cause of hysteria. This was disastrous. Freud started with listening to the hysterics. In doing so, he learned and believed them about the abuse, rape, and exploitation of their pasts. He then published his work and gave a lecture on it. The work rivals even contemporary psychological work on trauma in it’s level of compassion, understanding, and treatment of survivors. However, he was then labeled a feminist (this was all happening during the first wave of feminism) and professionally ostracized. How in the world could these aristocratic French men be sexually abusing their wives, sisters, and daughters??? Insanity, truly. And... This always fucking gets me. He recanted his work and then told his patients they all imagined it because they wanted to be sexually abused by their husbands, brothers, and fathers. This set back the study of trauma by literally a century. One colleague called his work “a scientific fairy-tale” simply because he had the audacity to believe victims. Also, I want to point out that the famous hysteria case during this time was the case of Anna O and she was ultimately villainized by the entire psychological community for going into crisis after her care provider abruptly ended their therapeutic relationship after two years of DAILY sessions. 
Anyway. We can see how the power of these men over vulnerable women silenced, pathologized, villainized, infantilized, and used male ‘logic’ to completely destroy their credibility and lives under the guise of care and hysteria. Even when credible men lend their expertise and voices to the victims, their voices are silenced. This particular iteration of hysteria lasted over a century, and we are still dealing with the consequences of these actions and ideas within our social construction, medical and mental health care, interpersonal relationships, and more. Patriarchal pillars such as hysteria don’t die. We saw it move from hysteria to schizophrenia (which used to have the same symptoms of hysteria before the diagnosis changed in more contemporary psychology) after this which led to widespread lobotomies and electroshock therapy (my least favorite case of a lobotomy being done is on a woman who was diagnosed with LITERALLY ‘narcissist husband’) to depression in the 40s-50s with the over prescription of benzodiazepines to house wives to keep them in a zombie state (these prescriptions were sometimes double and triple what we take today with the intent of medical catatonia). In my opinion, as well as other counselors within the feminist therapy theoretical orientation, we are currently seeing it with the emergence of borderline-personality disorder. Think about how BPD is treated and demonized for a second. I professionally know therapists who refuse to work with BPD clients due to this villainization and just fucking gross perception of victims.
These are just the highlights, but it shows the history of hysteria. There have been centuries of women being marked as hysterical and the cures have ranged from lobotomy to bed rest (which sounds not so bad but read the Yellow Wallpaper and get back to me on that one). While the Yellow Wallpaper is fictional, the life behind it was not. After the traumatic birth of her child the author, Charlotte Perkins Gilman, was remanded to bed rest by the authority of her husband and doctor. Within the sphere of medical control, hysterical women are often treated as children while their doctors make decisions for their mental well-being without consulting them, or they hide the truth of their procedures for “the woman’s own good” and because “she’s hysterical and wouldn’t comprehend the logical need for this.” She then had a mental break due to the treatment. Again, we see hysterical women being silenced, infantilized, discredited from their own experiences, and under the narrative control of male logic and voices. 
Hysterical women have often historically been seen as beneath men, except for when they’re dangerous. Listening to victims is inherently threatening to the status quo because all trauma comes from a systemic framework. The framework that upholds patriarchal power. It’s easy to see why that would be seen as dangerous to powerful men. We saw this with the European witch genocide in which oppressed women were targeted and wiped out under the excuse of what was considered women’s work. (Before this time, witchcraft wasn’t tied to any religion and was mostly just seen as women’s work. It was targeted specifically to have an excuse to persecute widows, homeless, disabled, and vulnerable women who no longer had men to reign over them during a time of political unrest and scarce resources). This time period saw hysterical and traumatized women demonized as dangerous, evil, immoral, hypersexual, and supernaturally wily. A threat to the moral fabric of society. 
(Interesting history side note: this caused the view of women’s base traits we have today. It stemmed from the Victorian era that came after this time period in which women learned if they behaved a certain way, they would be spared the stake. For example, before the witch trials, women were actually seen as the ones with unsatiable sexual appetites, something we culturally prescribe to men now.) 
Notice how none of this has to do with the actual abuse that happens to the women, but instead the labeling and treatment of women when they are already showing the symptoms of abuse, trauma, control, exploitation, and rape. 
Jason Todd, The Hysteric
So, how does this relate to Jason Todd? To say that Jason has experienced trauma would be an understatement. Extreme poverty, loss of parent to death and addiction, loss of parent to the justice system, parental abuse, manipulation, witnessing violent crimes, witnessing the aftermath of sexual abuse and assault, arguably (not explicit in the text) his own sexual trauma, witnessing the dead bodies of victims, a violent death, and subsequently a violent resurrection. There’s also an argument to be made for being a child soldier and how that is romanticized up until he dies, but the text does not treat this as traumatizing.
Now, I’m not going to dive into the trauma he experienced. The purpose of this is only to look at how he’s framed as hysterical in the narrative, and as I stated, hysteria was a word slapped on women after they tried to talk about their trauma or exhibited symptoms (or were just unruly women). Jason does embody many facets of the victim experience and this is just one of them. 
Feelings vs “logic” - Firstly, it is really hard to talk calmly about things that you carry, your experiences, your trauma, and things that specifically harm you. It is easy to talk calmly about things that don’t. This is why there is an abuse tactic of gaslighting or silencing victims by framing their very real reactions to harm or their triggers as abuse, this is known as “reactive abuse.” This tactic is also employed in oppressive settings where the privileged group will often default to ‘winning’ a debate by being able to remain calm while the marginalized group whose life, personhood, etc is being harmed by the things being discussed and are unable to have a sterilized, emotionless debate. 
Both of these settings fit Jason nicely within the moral context of vigilante comics. He fought back, he didn’t lay down, and he will do what he deems as necessary to protect himself and others from his fate. This, however, is framed by Bruce and others as being just as bad as his murderer or even just as bad as Joe fucking Chill. To put this in perspective of a real world equivalent. Combine every billionaire on this planet into one person and instead of their shitty business practices murdering people, they did it with their own two hands. And due to their resources and political power, they would never, ever stop killing or be reasonably contained. More people would die with absolute 100% certainty. Would killing that one person make you equally bad as that person or violating the sanctity of life? That’s the moral question that Bruce puts onto Jason. While the moral question inherent to Jason is actually, is there a line worth crossing to provide reasonable safety (for yourself or the nameless community)? There is actually a difference between those two questions and the reactive abuse framing is certainly a choice. Also, it is funny to me that a man with the amount of power Bruce has (and frequently misuses) can lecture a murder victim on the misuse of power and morality. Are we supposed to be agree with his stoic, philosophical lecturing to a marginalized, abused, murder victim? (yes, we are). Bruce leverages (personal) philosophy against victim’s voice for their own safety, and take a wild guess which one is framed as logical and reasonable.
Jason’s morals come secondary to Bruce’s philosophy in a universe where there is still harm being done (but it’s an acceptable harm). Why is killing the line? Bruce is regularly destroying families and lives by feeding them into the prison industrial complex while supporting it with his whole chest. Or he’s disabling and seriously maiming people with the level of violence he uses. 
Crying - Throughout the entire story of Under the Red Hood, we never once see Bruce emote while interacting with Jason outside of tight grimaces. With the exception of the shock he shows at the Joker’s life being threatened, which... Okay, suuure. We never see him cry during any of their interactions, but we do see Jason cry. Specifically, we see him crying when he’s at his most emotionally vulnerable and physically dangerous to the toxic male power fantasy. This kind of vulnerability is rarely shown by male characters, and when it is, it’s usually done with a mist of a tear in their eyes or their face is hidden. There are a few narrative devices that allow men to cry, but they are the exception rather than the rule. Usually, it’s to play for laughs, infantilize, or emasculate. Here, we see Jason combine the violence of a bad victim, bucking the system of power, and fully crying. Just slide right into that hysterical coding like a glove. Jason often shows his feelings entirely. Time and time again, the readers have seen Jason have breakdowns, cry, and be overcome with grief. This is tied to his portrayal as hysterical and unstable in the narrative, but in actuality it shows his capacity for love and how vastly impactful his death was. 
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This fits nicely with the next point that Jason fits into the hysterical box. Love is framed as one of his key faults. A son reaching for his father. 
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Love - One of Jason’s defining features is the amount of love and compassion he holds. He’s willing to put up with any treatment, shoulder blame, and sacrifice himself for others to almost an unhealthy degree. However, this doesn’t extend to what he defines as his baseline safety. This one line of safety is the one thing that can’t be crossed, even with all of the love he feels for his father. He desperately wants to feel connection, have a family, and be loved in return with the same unwavering ferocity love that he gives. This is such a fucking key part of the victim experience, especially victims of childhood trauma. The desperation to just be chosen. He’s raw and honest with his reasonable expectation for love to provide safety for him and that is framed as hysterical, needy, unstable, naive, and fucking childish. Victims know what they need to have safety, and this framing as Bruce knowing what’s best for Jason and literally giving a cold shoulder to his needs is disgusting. 
Less than - Jason is portrayed as less powerful than Bruce even though they have similar expertise. There are so many instances of this that if you just open any media they both appear in, you can close your eyes, point, and land on an example. It makes me die laughing every time I remember that the Arkham games made Jason just one inch shorter than Bruce. Like, they can’t even be the same fucking height, that’s the level of insecure masculinity surrounding this relationship. Jason cannot and will never be able to be on par with Bruce because of his hysterical femininity and the power of Bruce being the self insert for the toxic male power fantasy. This power dynamic applies to the other batkids as well, but specifically in Jason’s case there is an element of hysteria. The reasons change because he’s so inconsistently written but usually he can’t surpass or even meet a stalemate with Bruce because he’s too emotional, he’s unstable, traumatized, and simply Bad. It’s even explicitly stated by Alfred in Under the Red Hood. 
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Victim blaming - Jason deserved to die because he didn’t follow orders. Jason deserved to die for not following his training. Jason deserved to die because he was an angry Robin (oh no a child had an appropriate reaction to sexual violence). Jason deserved to die for being human.
Infantilization - Jason is repeatedly infantilized in contrast to Bruce. When given the ultimatum at the end of UtRH, Bruce speaks to Jason like a child, or a bad dog. Ordering him to do things like, “enough!” or “stop this now.” Bruce knows what’s best for Jason (and for everyone in the entire world), we should really just take his word for it and not the victim’s. Imagine staring at a 6 foot wall of a man and scolding him like a child. Beyond that, as mentioned above, his views of love and safety are framed as childish. Even though they are actually leaning more toward collectivism rather than the rampant individualism that Bruce so strongly defers to. (also, just a side note, collectivistic methods in healing from trauma is actually the only scientifically reliable way to heal. Every other method has absolutely abysmal results and higher rates of relapses.)
Silenced and Safety Villainized - Jason is silenced in his own story, acceptable and honored when he was dead and met with vitriol in life. All of the love given to him as Robin turns to ash as soon as he collides with Bruce’s power and morals. I think any survivor can relate to the experience of being told that what happened to them was a long time ago and it’s time to move on. Or even that they’re leveraging their own safety to get what they want in a manipulative way. Regardless of whether or not there was any accountability or justice for the harm done to them. Alfred asks Bruce if he should remove Jason’s memorial in the cave like two seconds after learning of his resurrection because Jason’s methods of securing safety for himself and using his own voice to define his story. Bruce was able to tell Jason’s story when he died. He was able to memorialize, grieve, and ultimately define Jason’s story because Jason wasn’t there to speak for himself. When Jason does speak for himself, he is villainized and literally stripped of his past significance as Robin (or a good victim) by Alfred within seconds. This is reflected in real life with adoptee advocates speaking about how adoption is unethical/harmful/traumatizing and subsequently being framed as ungrateful, selfish, etc. They were little perfect victims without voices before they grew up and could speak for themselves.
Erased - Gestures at the entirety of how Jason is either talked about or completely erased during the 90s Tim Robin run. He wasn’t convenient to talk about, as victims rarely are. This also ties into how Steph’s death was erased and Babs was written like she “won” at trauma by simply... beating it??? 
Dangerous - Jason is framed as threatening the basic fabric of society (in a story with vigilantes this is hard to do, so they have him oppose the no-kill rule, and then doubled down on Bruce’s characterization of no-killing). Anything that bucks the status-quo is usually marked as villainous in mainstream vigilante/superhero comics, but this is a step beyond that into the interpersonal and political sphere. Hysterical women are often framed as dangerous, villains, snakes, and treacherous (the other side of this coin is weak, pathetic, and pitiable) because they are victimized and then have the audacity to do something to the system about it. Whether that be the system of their immediate families or the political sphere. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that Jason was paired with Talia in Lost Days to hammer this point home to the reader. It could’ve just as easily been anyone with access to the Pit that rescued him, but no, we had DC’s favorite brown, treacherous, venomous, female punching bag. 
Bruce Wayne, The Batman
Bruce fits well into the father, enforcer, and logical man slot in Jason’s hysterical story. There is a history of ownership throughout women’s history when it comes to their subjugation to men. Women actually couldn’t be put on trial before the witchcraft genocide because they weren’t seen as legally a person. Their male owner would be put on trial instead. Women would go from being owned by their fathers to their husbands after entering marriage, the most dangerous woman being one who isn’t owned (orphaned, widowed). Bruce does treat (and even thinks) about Jason like he’s something that he owns. He’s his protege, his son, and his responsibility. 
The narrative function of Bruce as a perpetrator in Jason’s story. 
“The perpetrator asks the bystander (reader) to do nothing. He appeals to the universal desire to see, hear, and speak no evil. The victim, on the contrary, asks the bystander (reader) to share the burden of pain. The victim demands action, engagement and remembering” (Herman). 
Bruce does remember what happened to Jason. He keeps a permanent memorial to his dead son. However, this doesn’t translate into any kind of tangible action. He doesn’t do anything to actually stop the murderer who took his son’s life and he continues to throw child soldiers at the problem of crime (how many children have died for the sake of his no-kill rule at this point?). When met with the reality of his inaction, he fits into the perpetrator’s role like a glove:
“In order to escape accountability for his crimes, the perpetrator does everything in his power to promote forgetting. Secrecy and silence are the first line of defense... If secrecy fails, the perpetrator attacks the credibility of his victim. If he cannot silence her absolutely, he tries to make sure that no one listens... From the most blatant denial to the most sophisticated and elegant rationalization... One can expect to hear the same predictable apologies: it never happened; the victim exaggerates; the victim brought it upon herself; and in any case it’s time to forget the past and move on. The more powerful the perpetrator, the greater his prerogative to name and define reality, the more completely his arguments prevail” (Herman). 
I think it is simply fact at this point that Bruce is the head patriarch in Gotham if not, arguably, in the entirety of DC. That level of power in the narrative cannot be ignored, especially when faced with the very real, screaming voice of a victim that Bruce uses all of that power to silence. Bruce, because of his status as patriarch, default protagonist, and self-insert for the toxic male power fantasy, has the ultimate power to name and define reality. Especially to the reader. Bruce doesn’t deny what happened to Jason, because that’s physically impossible to do. But what he does do is ensure that no one listens to Jason, discredits him, and rationalizes his own inaction, actions of violence towards Jason, and victim blames.
Here’s Bruce using the most base form of denial and victim blaming:
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After this panel, Bruce also revokes Dick’s access to his childhood home simply for asking a question.
This theme extends to other members of the batfam because of Bruce’s narrative power over them. It’s why we can’t have Dick, Steph, Babs, or even Damian step in and relate to Jason’s trauma or vindicate him. Even when we, the readers, can see parallels and wonder why these conversations or bonds aren’t forming. Jason HAS to be a lone wolf because he is hysterical and a threat to the system of power. This also shows why most of his runs in group settings outside of the batfam fall apart or fall flat. If he was humanized by any other character or had his trauma validated in any actionable way, it would be recognizing the failure of the toxic male power fantasy. The readers are not supposed to see the flaw in this system that allows the bodies of children to pile up and sympathize with one of their voices. It would be a crack in the system of power that exists not only in the source material, but very much within our real world.
Side note: Jason is allowed to interact with others in a wholesome and validating way when he no longer threatens the systemic power of Bruce. When he is silenced by the writers and plays the “nice victim” (like Babs does), he is allowed connection. Only when his healing is done in a way that doesn’t demand action and is only his personal responsibility (gotta love the rampant individualism). If he is hysterical, demands action, and asks for someone to be held accountable for his death, he is shoved away into a lone wolf box. Examples: Gotham Knights (from my very basic understanding, I haven’t played the game, only seen play throughs) and WFA. Victims are acceptable if they do their healing in a neat little box and stay there, but hysterics are the ones who step outside of that box.
Red Hood, The Political Voice of Hysteria and Trauma
Red Hood is deeply political in terms of hysteria and trauma. Herman stated that victims and those that authentically care for them or listen to them intently (whether that be interpersonally, clinically, or professionally) are silenced, ostracized, and discredited. Survivors need a social context that supports the victim and that joins the victim and witness in a common alliance. On an interpersonal level this looks like family, friends, and loved ones. However, trauma is systemic and the social context mentioned above must also be given on a wider social scale. For this to be done, there had to be systemic change and political action. Jason had the interpersonal social support and witnesses to his trauma ripped from him by Bruce. So, we see him move onto a systemic level of addressing trauma in his own political way. He literally cannot escape Bruce and this constant trigger because of Bruce’s philosophy and just... fucking power to define reality... being re-enforced constantly in DC no matter where he tries to go. So, he tries to heal by taking the systemic issue of perpetrators who cannot be held accountable or have fallen through the cracks of accountability into his own hands in a very personal way. A one man political movement.
Whether his methods are moral or ethical doesn’t really matter in the overall framing him as hysteric. He simply has to be opposed by the male power fantasy in some significant way. This shows that the goals, needs, and work towards victim’s and the marginalized’s freedom is dangerous, doomed to fail, and ultimately unethical if the victim is framed in a villain light instead of the more pathetic/pitiable iteration of hysteria. 
You can see how this is not only problematic but also reflects the real world values instilled in arguments against human rights movements (which are intrinsically tied to victims rights). Defunding the police is dangerous, the MeToo movement is dangerous, abolition is dangerous, trans rights are dangerous, etc etc etc. Think of the victims voices tied to each of these movements and how they are integral to the real change offered by these political movements. You can’t have human rights violations without creating victims. And you can’t have political movements surrounding human rights without listening to victims.
We can also see how the individuals within these movements are ostracized, villianized, and often silenced (sometimes ultimately silenced with death) because they rally against the systems of power that victimized them. The framing of traumatized, vulnerable people as hysterical is integral to upholding the system of power that traumatizes and harms them.
A popular comic book movie adaptation that highlights the importance of Jason’s hysterical framing and how it impacts the political narrative/how he is written is V for Vendetta. To be fair, it received an insane amount of backlash by conservatives (not within leftist or liberal spaces) for V’s methods in over throwing fascism, but only because of the movie’s release date being so close to 9/11. V and Jason have many parallels, it’s only the lack of hysterical framing that makes V more palatable to the viewer. We are told, not shown through behavior, that V is traumatized by his past and he does not pick a fight with the protagonist that functions as a toxic male power fantasy. He is the protag, with his version of Bruce being men who are not framed in a sympathetic, heroic, or relatable light. 
Additionally, there is literally an unemoting mask standing between the viewer and V, whereas Jason takes off his helmet to allow the reader to see every aspect of his trauma and pain. V readily dehumanizes himself into an idea, rather than a person. Whereas Jason screams to be seen as a person in a very hysterical way. So, we can see how the framing of Jason as hysteric against the logical, heroic man greatly impacts how the audience reads him when contrasted by a very similar political story/character who uses similar (and arguably more violent) methods to meet his ends. (This just made me realize that I would die for a Jason adaptation written by the Wachowski sisters). 
Jason’s work as Red Hood is seeped in leftist, victim, and community centered politics. His portrayal as a hysterical antagonist (at best an anti-hero) is rooted in misogyny and upholding patriarchal, capitalist, and the prison industrial complex systems of power. He is the righteous embodiment of “the personal is political” for victims. Even his Robin run draws attention to and shows correct, angry reactions to the system of patriarchal power in sexual violence.
Patriarchal Writing and Enforcement
Jason is girl-coded and hysterical because he’s supposed to be emasculated, discredited, and disliked by the reader. He serves the narrative function of boosting the toxic male power fantasy of Bruce and in doing so, the writers use one of the oldest tropes in the book (one that we have all subconsciously been taught since birth) to get the reader on their side. Make him a hysterical woman. 
References: for anyone interested in furthering their understanding of any of the concepts mentioned above and to, you know, use sources for my own writing.
Barstow, A. Witchcraze
Bondi, L., Burman. E. Women and Mental Health: A Feminist Review
Freud, S. The Aietology of Hysteria
Gilman, C. P. The Yellow Wallpaper
Herman, J. Trauma and Recovery
Ussher, J. The Madness of Women.
Van der Kolk, B. The Body Keeps the Score
Wilkin, L., Hillock, S. Enhancing MSW Students’ Efficacy in Working with Trauma, Violence, and Oppression: An Integrated Feminist-Trauma Framework for Social Work Education
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ancientstone · 16 days
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oh my tua followers are going to hate me for this one
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“If anything were to happen to you…” ranma/akane → words: 1,850
She hadn’t gone to sleep yet, allowing herself to engulf the loud silence the stiff evening brought upon the Tendo household. Akane tossed and turned under her comforters, her fingers twirling with loose threads of yellow, indicating they were old and she’d probably need to talk to Kasumi about getting a newer set for her bedroom. The young girl took a deep breath, closing her eyes and tried to relax, remember that she was home, safe, thanks to Ranma, again.
The thought angered her, not in a bitter sense, but rather annoyed at herself. She got in harm’s way and believed she was the reason Ranma didn’t get to change back permanently (or rather it felt like so). She sat up, releasing her deep breath exaggeratedly, deciding she needed a glass of water to drown away her midnight thoughts.
There wasn’t a single sound from anyone in the household at this hour but the gentle creeks of the floorboards with every footstep, giving her away as the quick clicking of the cicadas only got louder as she reached the kitchen, illuminated only by the lighting fixture above the stove. She poured herself a glass of water and gulped it down, thirstier than she believed to be.
Recently, she’d began having fever dreams about Jusenkyo. Although faint, Akane’s body would always feel cold and heavy, fatigue and tired wanting to stay asleep within her dream. She was unable to lift a finger but Ranma’s firm grip somehow anchored her from going anywhere for those few moments that sometimes felt like eternity. The tip of his fingers dug harshly into her skin, burning, and she could still hear the faint but desperate cry at the back of her mind, calling for her.
“Couldn’t sleep?”
The young girl gasped silently, jumping at the sudden voice emerging from the dark when she believed to be alone. Speak of the devil, she thought, feeling her chest begin to compress by just looking at the young man she’d witness Ranma become over the few years they’ve grown together. A few well-deserved smacks at the back of his head now and then, but there was also accidental bumping with innocent touches between the back of his hand brushing against her arm sending chills down her spine and legs, until reaching her toes. And there was something about his smell; like wet soil, but not in a dirty way, but rather in a fresh sort of sense. She also found herself enjoying the way his soft cheeks lined up perfectly with his jawline, a few scars here and there that she believed he was too young to wear. But that was Ranma.
Ranma was very attractive, and it took her a while, but there came a time that she couldn’t deny it any longer: she had a crush on the jerk. Although, considering how many times he’s risked his life to save hers hardly made him a jerk. Not at all, really. And it was these conflicting feelings that seemed to overwhelm her at times. More than she’d like to admit, even if just to herself.
“Just needed some water,” she found herself saying, trying to find a normal stance to stand in while they shared the silent kitchen in the middle of the night. “You?” Akane shifted her hip to the side and crossed her arms, looking up at Ranma swiftly hop his bottom onto the counter, pondering on his response. And she waited, allowing the seconds to pile up because she could have waited forever if it meant she’d be the only one that got to hear his voice at this perfect hour when no one was awake but them and the hot air outside squeaking through the worn-out walls that have witnessed her lingering eyes follow his every move each time he entered and left a room.
“Same.” He said but hadn’t poured himself a glass. Instead, he was now looking down at her, intensely, yet appearing calm and composed. His eyebrows furrowed momentarily before relaxing as his large eyes bounced about her face, as if searching for something that he’d misplaced just seconds ago. His gaze didn’t stop dancing until reaching her own. Warm; without touching her, he still released warmth within her chest that spread towards her shoulders and down her arms and fingertips that yearned to touch him.
And she remembered Jusenkyo, and her fever dreams, almost feeling like old haunting dreams, but instead fuzzy memories. Of Ranma crying for her and holding onto her limped body, protecting her as he always has done. And she dared opened her mouth to ask him a question, only to close it when she felt silly and nervous. The topic itself still felt too fresh to talk about, because it wasn’t the first time that she’d bring up the trip and she’d notice his body flinch with a giving grimace of disgust.
Maybe it was those reactions that made her believe he was upset with her and that she was at fault for Ranma not being able to change, and it pained her. So much so, she felt selfish for not apologizing enough because that was all she had to offer. And so, Akane reached her hand over, suddenly, and rested it on top of his, noticing his body tense up at the sudden skin to skin contact. She kept her gaze glued to his, fawn-like eyes, so abnormally large he could get lost in them without trying to. They were so mesmerizing, he wondered how she managed to bewitch him all too easily as she spoke his name.
He didn’t dare blink, afraid to lose contact, baffling him silly as he made a sour face towards her when she continued to say to him, “I truly am sorry.”
The pigtailed man felt taken aback, leaning away as he asked her, “Whatcha sorry for, dummy? It ain’t like you’re trying to feed me one of your rice balls.”
And here she was, being sympathetic, but all he could do was find ways to insult her. “You idiot, let me talk.” She groaned, gently pushing his body, finding herself grinning when she noticed Ranma’s childish smirk taunting her. “I am talking about,” she took a deep breath as she closed her eyes, “Jusenkyo,” she said in a whisper almost. Like if the word was cursed and she wanted to cause the lease amount of damage possible when uttering the word. She glanced up at him, startled at his groan.
He seemed upset, but Akane felt like it was a conversation that had to happen. “‘Kane,” his voice began, hoarse and heavy, trying to find words to continue, but she cut him off too quickly.
The blue haired girl shook her head at him, asking him to let her speak, “If it hadn’t been for me, maybe the outcome would have been different.”
“Akane, I need you to listen to me,” he tried, his body stiffing as he remembered how lifeless her body felt against his, covering her as much as he could, desperately calling for her, a sudden pain tightening his chest that was suffocating him. He needed to save her, he had needed to make sure she was going to make it out alive. He hadn’t known the true feeling of being terrified until that exact moment when he didn’t know what he could to help her. He had done everything he needed to do in that moment, and it almost cost her life. 
The pigtailed martial artist jumped off the counter, the palm of his hands almost instantly taking hold of her shoulders and gripping onto them to somehow keep her grounded, afraid she’d run off and he would lose the courage to say anything at all. “You almost died Akane,” he gulped, his eyes shutting for a moment as he remembered, “and in that moment I was…I didn’t know…I should have been able to protect you a whole lot better than I did.”
“Ranma…what are..?” 
He leaned toward her, unaware of how close she actually was as the tip of his nose softly skimmed over hers. He could smell the subtle scent of lavender itching up his nose. Akane watched him speak to her almost in a panic, his projection low but strong enough to feel his breath tickle against her cheek.
“I didn’t know what I could do, I was scared, dummy. I could have lost you, and I–I…you were so defenseless, and unprotected,” she heard his voice strain, as if wanting to break, but it didn’t. His voice held itself strong, just like the grip of his hands pressing on her shoulders. Her heart was beating many miles an hour and she could feel her hands become clammy as she looked at him. He had a strong grip on her, and it wasn’t just his hands keep her there. She could hear her own breathing, relishing on his sweat and surprisingly the way he was talking to her. As though she belonged to him.
“You were so foolish, you dummy! Don’t ever do that again, you understand?” He commanded her, her face turning sour at the given order, shaking her head in disbelief. 
“You can’t tell me what to do. Who I can and can’t risk my life for, idiot.” 
There was hushed growl that startled her, she could have sworn it came from him. He pulled her in, his grip softening as she felt his palms drag themselves down and hold gently onto her forearms. He was close, so close all she needed to do was tip over and she’d be kissing him. His knitted eyebrows meant he was serious, and it almost made her want to giggle at how cute he seemed with huffed cheeks. But she continued to stand in place, staring up at him as he took in every aspect there was about her. The soft glow of her blueish hair, with her messy strands about the side of her head. The way her speechless expression somehow made her eyes seem bigger, with an almost pouted lip as though she was ready to dispute against him for no reason other than to give him the contrary. 
“If...” he began arguing against her, lowering his gaze to make sure she was meeting his, somehow appearing bigger than he was moments ago, “If anything were to happen to you, Akane...” she felt captivated at the way he said her name, swallowing hard, scraping her dry throat, engulfed by his sudden need to protect her. 
“Ranma,” her voice was soft and hushed, trying to bring him back to reality, away from the awful memories that seem to haunt him so vividly. Her small hands reached for him, cupping his cheek, smiling fondly as she watched the way he cradled his cheek into her palm, wanting to be touched by her. “I’m right here, and I always will be.” 
His arms wrapped around her waist, pressing her body against his. Ranma had never been a man to show his affection in such touchy-touchy ways, but she wasn’t complaining by any means.
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cloudsrust · 2 years
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Patchwork Care (Part 9)
When he had gotten into the elevator, Neon J saw Nova at the end of the hall. Of course, he pretended he hadn't seen his friend; the veteran was more than aware of his surprisingly skittish nature.
Yes, recently his vision had received much-needed upgrades, the reason why he could see Nova so easily. The delayed upgrades weren't for lack of willingness, but ever since the Border Wars, Jun had been sensitive to many sensory inputs, sight being one of them. Initially, he had relied on his radar, but now he felt comfortable with thermal vision. That was the main reason why he chose to keep his distance at first; the sudden drop in temperature on Nova's face indicated to him that he had been caught off-guard.
Even so, Jun missed Aster. They couldn't keep avoiding each other. 
His steeled resolve led him there, leaning against a doorframe as his troops walked out the room hurriedly. Tracking them down was child's play, and doing reconnaissance was even more simple (it wasn't eavesdropping, he would die on that hill if questioned). After pondering for weeks, Jun knew what he wanted to say. As for how he was going to deliver such a message to someone ready to jump ship at a drop of a hat, he had yet to determine that.
As soon as the door shut behind the veteran, Aster babbled nervously, endlessly. Akin to a drowning man, flailing in desperation. Words upon words, Neon J could only watch as he approached. Once seated, the silence was deafening.
Although he could not see colors in a conventional way, the shifting of temperatures was telling; a constant fluctuation of burning white mortification, red shame, and violet guilt. Of course, there was no certain way to say that was an accurate assessment, but Neon J could make a certain judgment given he knew the DJ well.
"Jun-"
"I don't want an apology." That was a bit of a strong start, so the veteran soften his tone, "There's nothing to apologize for-"
"I avoided you for two weeks-"
"Okay, I do want an apology for that, but that can wait. We both know what this is actually about."
"I have no idea what this is about."
"Don't lie, the left side of your face burns up when you do. Don't look surprised either, I got thermal vision not long ago," then again, even if his vision was back to radar-like, there were plenty of ways for Jun to tell when Aster lied. Since they were mostly inconsequential lies, Jun never called him out on them. Plus, it was amusing how his friend always swelled with pride whenever he thought he got away with something.
Tatiana had called him an enabler in the past. It was only now that he was realizing that had not been a joke.
Upon receiving only silence, Neon knew that his friend was probably in the process of overthinking. Feeling bold, the veteran held the astrophysicist's hand, which made the latter jump. 
 "Listen, Nova-"
"Just rip the band-aid off. I know, I ruined everything-"
"Aster-"
"I am an amazing, brilliant person, butwhatdoesitmatterifI'materriblefriend-"
"Aster!"
"Don't yell at me! I startle easily and your years as a captain are showing-"
"Sorry, but in my defense, you were spiraling." Rubbing the back of his neck, Neon stayed silent for a while to see how he could relay the message. At that moment, he realized that military tactics were much easier to perform than having a conversation. With the former, getting hurt was an expected outcome. With the latter though, hurting or getting hurt was something to avoid. As a way of comfort for both himself and his friend, he gave Nova's hand a squeeze.
"I... I am a deeply wounded person, I'm sure you're aware." Jun felt Aster squeeze his hand. Even as nervous as the astrophysicist was, he still tried to comfort the veteran. "War changes people. I changed so much, sometimes I wonder if I am truly myself sometimes, a glorified Ship of Theseus."
The lump in his throat forced him to pause. It was never an easy topic to breach, but the manager was past dreading it. 
"Jun, there's no need to force yourself-
Holding up his free hand to indicate to his friend to save whatever speech he was about to bestow him. Neon wanted to have this conversation with him. Needed to.
"I've gotten better, by my own effort and with the help of others. You've been part of that. I'm grateful. Then, before I knew it, that gratefulness began to be something more."
Aster shifted in place, although thankfully he did not let go of his hand. "I'm not following," his voice was wavery. Jun sensed that there was a hint of bashfulness, maybe even hope underneath the uncertainty.
"Yes you are, you're brilliant."
"Thank you-"
"Seriously, the heat signatures on your face are quite blinding. I didn't think it was possible for your face to get that bright."
The punch to his shoulder was well deserved, but the veteran found it worth it given that his friend finally relaxed enough to process his following words.
"Listen Aster, I do love you. I also understand that your form of love is not defined yet. However, I... This is going to sound embarrassing considering 1010's branding... I'm not ready for love.  I want to be ready; to love and to be loved. I have to work on myself before I involve myself in any relationship though. Frankly, I'm scared of not being able to provide what you need, and I struggle when it comes to voicing my own needs- "
"I'm aware of how stubborn you are when it comes to asking for help." Nova's voice sounded odd; quiet, distant although the playfulness of his statement remained. Although comforting, Jun couldn't remember a time were his friend ever sounded like that.
"Oh hush!" Neon huffed, leaning back against the couch. "... I don't know if this is a selfish request, but can you stay by my side until I'm ready? I might take a while."
Aster remained silent, and Jun felt a pang of fear. Had he overstepped boundaries? Was there something he had misinterpreted? Then, muffled sniffles drew the veteran's attention. When he gazed over at his friend Jun instantly understood what was happening.
"... Are you-"
"I'm not crying!" The DJ lied blatantly. Currently, his face was a kaleidoscope of temperatures, with bright downward streaks of  blue. "I'm just happy..."
With a soft chuckle, Neon responded, "Of course. I felt like that too when I heard your confession. I bet it was startling to witness though, after all my components weren't calibrated to handle so many electrical impulses at once."
"..... That was you emoting joy?"
"You are aware that emotions are electrochemical impulses, right?"
"Yes, but what does that have to do with- Wait," Jun dreaded the fact that his friend was intelligent. He tended to catch on to certain topics too fast, "you... You were so happy that you short-circuited your monitor and overactivated your cooling system, essentially overclocking your entire body?"
"Don't laugh. Star, I'm serious, don't laugh, my components are not cheap."
It was inevitable, as the DJ was reduced to childish giggles. Jun accepted his fate of being eternally teased for his malfunction and laughed with him until they were both wheezing messes, nearly a melted pile on the couch.
The silence now was a comfortable one. The veteran's hand rested warmly in the astrophysicist's.
"Oh!" Aster perked up, seemingly remembering something of importance, "I uh, I made you something... Well, to be more accurate it turned into a group project at some point, and I'll admit that my handiwork is not the best in this case, although I assure you this does not represent the quality of my work," as he rambled, the nervousness became more apparent.
"Show me?"
After fumbling with his satchel, Nova took out...
A nondescript object.
Neon had no idea what it was supposed to be. His thermal vision could only do so much. Even so, graciously he took the object in hand.
The first thing he noticed was that it was soft; various fabrics clumsily stitched together. A particular seam almost made him snort, as there had to be at least five knots keeping the patches together, cotton filling threatening to burst out from in between.
The more he felt, the more Jun began to piece together an image in his head. The elongated neck and head initially made him think of a giraffe, however the circular flaps at the sides and the asymmetrical-in-length legs indicated that it was, in fact, a bird. A bird with a jacket and a hat, the extra fabric hugging the plush tight catching his attention.
The stripes on the sleeves, the almost rectangular patches on its chest, anchor insignia on the marine dress cap... A Vinyl City Marine Captain wearing a dress uniform. Just like him. When his thumb brushed against the fluffy crest of the plush bird, it all clicked. A crane, his favorite animal. Such inconsequential fact about him was remembered by Aster and drove him to create such a wonderful gift, crafted it in a way that, although clumsy, Neon would recognize it by touch alone.
Ever so quiet, ever so hesitant, Nova spoke to him, "Um, his name... His name is Grus, like the crane constellation."
Needless to say, Neon J was going to have to buy some components for himself, again. Although his thermal vision remained, he felt his ventilation system overheat, the internal UI glitched, electric surges coursed his body, short-circuiting his voice box. He figured that the monitor was going to need some replacement parts too. Well, all of that was less important than the fact that he felt loved with a simple and kind gesture.
"O̖̼ͩ͌͐ḣ̖̻͛̓- O̖̼ͩ͌͐ḣ̖̻͛̓ I̍̅̀̎̊ l̙͖̑̾ͣo̯̱̊͊͢v͒̄ͭ̏̇ẹ̿͋̒̕ ḣ̖̻͛̓ỉ͔͖̜͌ḿ̬̏ͤͅ," he sobbed out, hugging the plush crane close to his chest.
Even with his flickering vision, he could tell that Nova was shining bright, a cosmos of warmth, dotted with cold spots when the DJ sputtered, "Hey, there's no need to cry!"
"Ỵ̛̖͋͢o̯̱̊͊͢ư̡͕̭̇ s̠҉͍͊ͅā̤̓̍͘y҉̃̀̋̑ that, but y҉̃̀̋̑o̯̱̊͊͢ư̡͕̭̇'r̴̨̦͕̝ẹ̿͋̒̕ about to c͕͗ͤ̕̕r̴̨̦͕̝y҉̃̀̋̑ too." Jun pointed out petulantly, "C̵͉͋̔͞ā̤̓̍͘r̴̨̦͕̝ẹ̿͋̒̕f̵͖̜̉ͅư̡͕̭̇l̙͖̑̾ͣ now, y҉̃̀̋̑o̯̱̊͊͢ư̡͕̭̇ p̞̈͑̚͞r̴̨̦͕̝o̯̱̊͊͢b̬͖̏́͢ā̤̓̍͘b̬͖̏́͢l̙͖̑̾ͣy҉̃̀̋̑ don't ḣ̖̻͛̓ā̤̓̍͘v͒̄ͭ̏̇ẹ̿͋̒̕ ā̤̓̍͘ warranty o̯̱̊͊͢ṇ̤͛̒̍ t̲̂̓ͩ̑ḣ̖̻͛̓ā̤̓̍͘t̲̂̓ͩ̑ glass dome o̯̱̊͊͢f̵͖̜̉ͅ yours."
"Actually, I do, but do you have warranty on literally any of your components?"
"N̺̻̔̆ͅo̯̱̊͊͢, I̍̅̀̎̊ didn't think I̍̅̀̎̊ w̦̺̐̐͟o̯̱̊͊͢ư̡͕̭̇l̙͖̑̾ͣḑ̴̞͛̒ c͕͗ͤ̕̕r̴̨̦͕̝y҉̃̀̋̑ this ḿ̬̏ͤͅư̡͕̭̇c͕͗ͤ̕̕ḣ̖̻͛̓ so s̠҉͍͊ͅo̯̱̊͊͢o̯̱̊͊͢ṇ̤͛̒̍," as if to mock him, the internal fan inside his forearm went up in smoke.
Between tears of joy and relieved laughter, between the activated sprinkler system and the eventual arrival of firefighters, between the highly exasperated scolding of Tatiana, 1010's worried assessment of their health, and the reporters trying to get the latest news, Jun Won and Aster Leavitt stood side by side, hands subtly brushing through it all.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Thank you everyone for the wait! College and interships got my hands tied;; Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this chapter too! One Epilogue left!
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Chapters Index: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5  | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | You're Here! ——————————————-
Never been so happy to finally repeat myself once again but remember to go give love to the amazing writer @inkedfeather9 -!!
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solradguy · 1 year
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I came to terms with the Sol kinnie thing months ago now because honestly who gives a shit, but every now and then I'll find myself in a situation where I wonder if whatever it was I was about to do was/is a pre- or post-Guilty Gear interest lol
#textpost#Most of them have been pre-Guilty Gear interests which is honestly hilarious#Like of course I don't have proof for most of it but my fursona is the funniest one#He's basically bootleg furry Sol Badguy BUT he was like that MONTHS before I got into GG#I've been thinking about this over the last few days though#Because I was doing some Queen stuff and had a thought like 'am I only doing this because my brain's weird or do I actually care'#And went through like a checklist of things. I do actually care#Sol is like frighteningly relatable though and sometimes I wish he wasn't lol#I typed this at 2am last night but saved it to my drafts instead of publishing it haha Still kinda feeling it this morning though tbh#I wish I could better articulate or find a term that describes how I relate to Sol better because 'kin/fictionkin' feels too...#Hmm.... Psycho-religious? A lot of essays I read while initially figuring this out related the kin tag to something more like a-#-Philosophy or something similar to a religion#But for me it's more like my brain filling in empty spaces within itself because No One was like me growing up and#now that I'm also trans there are even LESS people who are like me#So my brain sees a character that's similar to me and is like 'oh holy shit it's us. Let's be like that' hahah#This got really long I should've put it up in the post sorry lmfao#Anyway this is something I've done my whole life and 'kinning' is really the only term that fits what it is even if it's not a 1:1 fit#It usually doesn't bother me but knowing that some of the things I enjoy now I probably won't later once my interests shift again does#I still keep waiting for it to happen with Guilty Gear but GG is so different from anything else I've been into I'm not sure it will#Since most of the things I like about GG were things I liked before getting into it. Like heavy metal & weird scifi/fantasy#I'm not going to elaborate on how exactly I relate to Sol also. My blog is too public for that#and this post is already a little too personal#kin tag
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amywritesthings · 1 year
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me coming back to my fic blog after ghosting since seeing you / seeing me to write some anime slow burn chaos like
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wernerherzogs · 5 months
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jaegerbby · 7 months
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➳ inculpatus
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--͙[satoru gojo x female! reader]-͙-
╰┈➤ word count; 5800
╰┈➤ rundown; satoru is everything you want and more, it is time you gave him a little more of you.
╰┈➤ caution; virgin! reader (also described as having small breasts), established relationship, corruption kink, cunninglingus, size kink, cum eating, ball sucking (?), handjob, dry humping, fingering.
not proof read!
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he is pretty, way too pretty for you to think properly.
"can i suck your dick?" satoru flinches once the words leave your mouth. he is perched on the quaint white sofa in your apartment and maybe you should not have spoken so loosely because his eyes slightly widen as he turns to you.
"sorry! it's just... you haven't tried anything with me." you unsurely speak, avoiding his gaze. satoru is respectful, overly so. you thought inviting him to your place would at least give him a hint without you having to spell it out for him.
sky blue eyes flit over your features before he licks his lips. they are so pink they look doll like. "i don't want to push you." he pauses. "because you're a virgin." while he does not admit it, it undeniably makes him hard.
"i'm not ready for sex but other things." you trail off, "you can do other things with me."
he jaggedly nods, his head feels dizzy after hearing you say he can have his way with you. "i'll do anything you want."
you perk up immediately.
"how do i get it hard?" he follows your gaze as you focus on his crotch. where the grey fabric of his pants are futile in concealing his bulge.
you are too cute. satoru surges forward to press soft wet kisses to the right of your neck before shifting to give the left the same treatment.
your breath picks up at his proximity, you feel the softness of his hair but it is a lot different in this atmosphere.
his large palm cups along your jaw. "you don't have to do anything. i could look at you and my cock gets so hard it hurts. it's worse cause these clothes are so skimpy." his gaze has darkened now, your mouth feels sticky with spit and your stomach turns in an unfamiliar way.
he grips your wrist to bring your hand onto his stiffened erection. "feel that?" he urges your touch along him, it feels hard, long and hot. so hot.
it does not take long before you are caressing him without any assistance, he puffs air into your face. "i didn't make a move cause i didn't want to scare you but i wanted to touch you. whenever you leaned over i saw your titties, i saw how small they are and your puffy nipples. got such cute tits, babe, wanted to suck on them so bad, would you like that?" you mewl at his low voice, his thumb strokes over your bottom lip.
"toru." his expression looks almost pained at how airy you sound, your voice is sexed out already. when you call him like that how is he supposed to stay sane?
he tugs the straps of your vest down, you practically writhe like a cock is in you as your breasts are revealed. you squeeze along his length, your little hand working him despite your lack of experience.
"i want to lick them up, see how much you squirm or if you'd cum from that alone. just from your little tits getting sucked" he paws at your chest, there is barely a handful for him to grope.
he tweaks your nipples, his eyes narrowing and his tongue flicking over his lip. he is so close you can see the sky within his eyes, the thickness of his lashes and the blush along his skin.
"you didn't wear a bra, what about panties? what kind do you wear, ones with little bows, pink, white? what's a virgin like you into? you keep your tight cunt covered in cute ones or do you dress her like a whore?" you moan at the vulgarity, your forehead leaning on his while you lose your bearings.
your pussy is a soaking mess and if you could, you would press your thighs together to relieve the ache that is building up the longer satoru invades your space.
your insides clench and clamp down, they feel like they are begging for something. satoru tugs your hand away from his heady cock and you whine.
"why don't you show me? show me what you have under those slutty shorts." he pinches at your nipple hard enough to make you wince, his teeth flashing as he smiles. he looks so pretty, far too perfect to be real.
your palm slowly strokes your pussy over your shorts, satoru's eyes hold yours before they flit down to look at you touch yourself.
his hands reach for your waist, bunching up in the fabric of your vest. he is so big and strong, his muscles flex and pulse. your fingers prod the waist band, biting your lip as you slip further in.
the soft skin of your pussy meets your fingers and the wetness pooling from your slit drenches them after. it is hot and syrupy. he can see bare skin where your hand keeps the fabric pulled taunt.
"i didn't wear any. cause you'd be here. i thought about you seeing my pussy through my shorts. did you, toru? when i answered the door or when i sat down did you see it?" he groans, rolling his head against yours.
you stroke down your slit, you are wetter than usually. you are so much wetter now than when you are touching yourself to the thought of him.
"you're driving me crazy. yeah i saw it. i saw your little cunt. you need to be careful, i'll start thinking you're telling me to take your pussy when you do things like this." you face contorts, satoru's hand trailing along your sides and his voice sounds like a wet dream come through.
you pump the underside of your fingers along your swollen opening. "i am, toru. it's already yours." your voice is all shaky and you do not sound like yourself at all.
you are all whiny and borderline desperate. you sound like you need to get fucked. you hurriedly tug your hand away to grip his face and press your mouth to his.
the slick from your fingers taints his skin and you hardly know how to kiss but satoru tilts his head to deepen it. he is a good kisser but you knew that already, you have kissed him before but never this exposed, never with this palpable tension.
he hums into your mouth, his hand cupping your throat as his tongue glides over yours. you feel like the saliva pools in your mouth, you suck on his bottom lip then you kiss him harder.
your fingers pull on his hair, your teeth gnashing. it is open mouthed and desperate. the kiss is all wet and sloppy and any time either of you pull back the other chases.
the other pushes forward to keep your mouths connected. wet smacks fill the room, his tongue claims every part of your mouth it already has and when you both lean back your chest is heaving
"fuck, oh fuck." you pant and your fists tangle in his shirt to pull him back in, your lips glide along satoru's, spit swapping and your cunt aching the more you kiss him.
you think you might give him your virginity this very moment.
his thumb strokes your throat, using his grip to draw you closer. your entire body is vibrating, you feel like every neurone in your system is firing off.
you whine, your mouth leaving his with a sticky smacking noise. "i think m'losing it." you breathlessly mutter, satoru drags his finger along your lips, smearing the saliva across the swollen flesh.
"i am too, you shouldn't have let me touch you. i won't be able to stop." you look so innocent, yet your hair is all messed up, your lips are puffy from kissing so aggressively, your cute little boobs are exposed and your pussy is so insanely wet, there is a wet patch through your shorts.
it drives satoru insane, how can you look like sin incarnate and still have innocence all over your face.
"i don't want you to stop." he groans at your admission, you need to stop before he is too far gone. you need to stop before satoru starts thinking about how the inside of your tight virgin pussy will feel. all hot, gooey and sticky. he just knows your leaky little fuck hole would take his shape so well.
he leans in to peck your lips, satoru needs to stop thinking. "m'not letting you suck my cock." you stare at him in disappointment. why are you doing that? satoru has half a mind to stick his cock in one of your holes and you are making it far too difficult not to.
his hands caress your hair, smoothening it down before he cups your face. he wants to bite your pouty lips and never stop kissing them at the same time.
"not today, not gna slip my cock in your tight baby throat and feel all those little muscles gripping me, no cause i want to eat up your pussy instead. i want to taste how sweet you are and stick my tongue in that virgin hole." your fingers paw at his body, feeling his hard stiff muscles beneath them. he tugs off your vest and you lay back as he reaches for the waist band of your shorts.
a deep sound rumbles in his chest when the material peels away from your cunt and he sees it for the first time.
"c'mon didn't you want me to see? spread your legs." and you do, without any fanfare. satoru's large palms coax along the back of your thighs before he cups under your knees to keep you open for his prying eyes. satoru wonders how long you had been thinking about showing him your hot sticky pussy.
he wishes you showed him sooner but he might have lost it since then. your cunt is dripping with slick, it leaks down your hole to your ass. you look all pink inside satoru wants to see it stretched around him, he wants to feel you gripping his cock and milking him dry.
"got such a pretty pussy, i'm lucky, so fucking lucky. my pretty girl is so gorgeous. look at this messy little hole, she's so wet, fuck." the tips of his fingers trail along your slit, collecting your wetness before he rolls your stiff clit. you jolt as he strokes your bundle of nerves. the mewl that escapes you is borderline pornographic.
he leans over to lap at your lips and then he is shoving his tongue in your mouth to roughly kiss you. his entire body is between your legs, he covers you completely. he is so big it makes you ditzy. he is hard and muscular all over.
when he is on you like this, all you can think about is how easily he could fuck you, it is all you want. you want him pounding into your pussy until you are brainless. he is so close he could take you right now if he pleased.
your hands tangle in his hair, trailing down his jaw and neck before you squeeze his broad shoulders. satoru moans into your mouth, propping his arm beside your head to crowd over you more.
your hips stuttering as he rubs your clit harder. you feel his bulge hitting the back of your thigh, hot on your skin beneath his clothes. you want to see it, you want to touch it.
"toru, i want to see you" a growl rumbles in his throat and he licks into your mouth. "take it off, please" you tug at his shirt, he does not want to stop kissing you. his expression is pained as he pulls away, hurriedly yanking off his shirt to reveal his narrow waist and the muscles all over his body.
you giggle when he shoves his pants down and almost falls over. he climbs onto you with an embarrassed smile on his face and blush coating his cheeks. "you laughing at me?" you hum. "cause you're cute and i like you." you brush the long hair away from of his forehead and wrap your legs around his narrow waist to tug him in.
when his covered erection meets your slit you both breathe heavily. "why didn't you take these off?" your finger prods the waistband of his boxers. your eyes are on his, the same ones that look like every sunny sky is held within them.
"i don't trust myself to not fuck you. if i take them off, you won't be a virgin for much longer." you shiver beneath him. that does not sound like a threat, it sounds like the solution to everything.
like something you need to keep breathing. satoru is big, every muscle in his body is defined, you can trace each one with your eyes. his shoulders, his abs, his biceps. you want to see how they flex and bulge when he is losing himself in your cunt. how they will pulse when he is fucking you.
he gropes your breasts, his tongue laving over your nipple before he sucks down on the perked flesh. your legs jerk when he thrusts his hips into yours. your stomach feels tight, you feel like there are too many butterflies within the small space.
your pussy leaks so much liquid it drenches the front of his boxers, it only makes it easier for him to hump away with your pussy. his bulky thighs are warm as they press into the back of yours to hold you open. satoru pants into your skin, you can see the ripple of his back muscles as he fucks his hips.
there are wet smacks of his cock colliding with your cunt, this alone feels so good, you know it would feel a million times better if he was actually fucking you. you want him to have you, you want the real thing. it turns your brain to mush, makes your cunt ache and your tummy tremble.
he is breathless when he kisses you, it is hard and sloppy. almost as hard as his cock grinding against you. it is thick and long, you want to have it in your hand, down your throat, inside you.
you never thought depravity would ruin you like this but it does and it is okay because satoru is the only one you will get like this for.
his hands desperately grip your cheeks and jaw. you moan as he pulls back to slam his hips particularly hard. hard enough to make your body jerk and your back arch.
"i want to eat you out. i need your pussy in my mouth, need to know how you taste." you whine, your nails dig into his nape, thighs squeezing on either side of his hips.
"anything, toru. anything you want." you mewl. the friction on your pussy has your head in a mess, more of a mess than the slick leaking from your untouched hole.
he presses his stuttering hips flush to yours, his hefty length digging into your cunt. "you don't know how much i thought about this, i used to rub my dick raw when i thought about getting my mouth on you. my tongue in you, wanted to smell and taste your pussy so bad."
he slowly kisses down your sternum, hands trailing over the heat his lips leave in their wake. his palms are so wide, just one spans your waist. just one covers the plane of your stomach. his mouth seems to water the closer he gets to your sex.
you tug your legs to your chest, your hands folded and resting over your mouth. you tense when satoru presses his nose into your slick and nudges the flesh. it is embarrassing, even after all you did, it makes you more flustered than you can explain.
"you smell like heaven, baby. fuck don't ever keep this cunt away from me." his tongue flicks out to lave over your buzzing clit and your eyes shut tightly. it is when he reaches your dripping hole does your body stiffen the most.
your toes curl as he licks you greedily, sucking at the sodden flesh. it is like he does not want to stop. he presses further, his tongue flattening over the expanse of your pussy as he licks it entirely.
"fuck, babe. your pussy's too perfect." his eyes flick upwards, they are blown out and predatory. he spreads your lips before wetly spitting a thick glob into you.
he drags it along your slit before plunging a finger inside. it is long and thick, a lot thicker than any of yours. you writhe at the intrusion.
"how am i supposed to fuck such a tight hole? won't be able to take it, i might just rip your cute little cunt apart." his mouth encloses your clit, sucking and licking as he fucks his finger into you. the pace he sets is fast and riveting, it has you moaning like a freaked up slut instead of a virgin.
you brokenly cry when he adds another finger and your insides are stretched more than they are used to. you can hear the soaked soppy noises of your hole being slammed into over and over, his slimy mouth on your clit.
it is so embarrassing. yet it feels so good, getting your insides stroked and having his mouth somewhere you never thought it should be made your entire body buzz.
his mouth wetly separates from your clit with a sticky pop. "you like that? yeah you do, got your pussy dripping all over me." he thrusts his fingers, deep and fast. like he has done it countless times before.
you dumbly nod your head, your insides squeezing his digits and your hips rutting to meet his movements. he pounds into your hole until the creamy liquid is dripping down his wrist and there are tears in your eyes. saliva webs in your mouth while you moan. he slowly pulls his digits out of you.
"you okay?" you hum, sniffling. your eyes trail along his glistening fingers, it is weird to think they were just inside of you. satoru looks at you as he kisses your abdomen, caressing your thigh before his tongue glides along your entrance.
the tip prods your cunt and you whine lowly when the hot slimy muscle finally sinks in, hips tilting at the strange sensation. he groans into your flesh, his jaw dropping to press deeper. the tip of his perfect nose nuzzles against your clit and your eyes flutter constantly.
your lids threaten to shut as his mouth drips saliva onto you and the muscle squirms within your gooey walls. the knot in your stomach pulls tighter and tighter, your thighs tensing at the sight of him bobbing his head between your legs.
your shaky fingers find purchase in fluffy white locks. the feeling of his tongue being pumped into you makes your mind go blank, it makes your mouth water and your insides tighten.
squelching sounds fill the room as he eats your cunt up. his tongue going so deep your vision blurs.
"toru, toru, toru." you did not realise you were moaning. blue eyes flick up to look at you, you who is so lost in pleasure your head is leaned back and your chest is heaving.
satoru thinks if he had to choose the happiness moment in his life it would be here, with you. you were intoxicating enough but having you like this meant he could never be without you.
your slick in his mouth drives him insane, he wants it on his tongue always, he could die happy if your pussy is the last thing he has. he sucks up your drenched hole before moving to your clit.
he laps at the mound, fingers filling your hole to replace his tongue. the faster he shoves into you the more you tremble, the more your body jolts and the tighter you grip his hair. they reach for his shoulders instead, nails digging into his flesh and it makes satoru think about you clawing his skin when his cock is buried balls deep in you.
your voice is all high pitched and whiny, your head writhes against the couch, hips bucking into his face. he does not give you a break, despite your moans being broken and shaky.
no, he slams his fingers into your creamy pussy, feeling your walls pulsing around him as he quickly thrusts into you.
your liquid splatters with the pace of his movements, his mouth alternating between sucking your clit and licking it up. your voice is all honey dew and dreamy when you cream.
satoru groans at the taste of your cum, still fingering your innocent hole as he laps at the evidence of your orgasm. your thighs tremble and you roll your hips into his face, breathless with the weight of your high.
satoru's jaw is covered with slick when he moves over you, his other hand still gently caressing between your folds after slipping out of your sensitive slit. "why do you know how to do that?" you mumble.
"i had to know just so i could do it with you." he flashes you the prettiest smile. you trace his jawline, your blurred eyes trailing over his messy hair, his lengthy lashes, his gorgeous eyes and the slope of his nose.
the pinkness of his lips is more swollen than usual and cum drips down his jaw. even so he lacked imperfections.
satoru pecks your cheek "you were so good, such a perfect girl." he presses his body flush onto yours, both of his arms hugging your figure.
your smile is flustered with his weight on you, you keep him as close as possible. you are overwhelmed in a good way.
you think you would do this countless times so long as it is with satoru. he buries his face into the crook of your neck and sighs softly.
"i don't think i could be without you." truly, he thinks it might break him. you press a kiss to his hair, your hand stroking down the toned bulked up expanse of his back.
"you'll always have me, toru." the sound that escapes him is something like a whine as he leans in to peck your lips.
"we should clean up." you slowly let go when he sits himself up. satoru's arm is resting along the back of the couch, one leg folded while the other rests on the tiled floor.
his dexterous hand adjusts his cock through his boxers. the thickness looks like it is struggling with the constricting fabric. your body feels lighter, the mess between your legs is a bit uncomfortable but you tug them to your chest and look at the male before you.
he is way too big, it makes you all tingly inside. like he could hurt you if he wanted to but he does not. like if he held you, his arms would be the most impenetrable fortress. 
"what do you want to do after?" he leans his head back, his eyes turn to you and his adam's apple bobs. he is looking at you but you are staring at his evident erection.
the thin material of his boxers does nothing to hide the girth of his aching cock nor does it conceal the wet patch from his pre cum.
"so shameless." he slyly smiles, he reaches to nudge your chin but his resolve falters when your gaze flits between his crotch and his eyes and your cute little tongue trails along the seam of your kiss swollen lips.
he hopes you do not say what he knows you will because satoru cannot resist you. not a single ounce of him has the strength to refuse you.
"toru, i can take care of you too." his smile slowly drops and his mouth dries. his eyes go dark and he tilts his head.
"yeah?" he sees your little hands bunch into fists before you perch yourself on your knees and you lean closer to him.
satoru wants you this close forever, to always see, touch and have no matter what. your hair frame your face and your lips pouts with your words.
"if you want to use my mouth or anything else, you can." you are temptation. you are temptation in the form of an angel.
satoru swallows hard, he shifts closer to you, hands cupping either side of your head. he kisses your forehead before nuzzling your nose with his.
"today isn't about me, we'll do it another time." your eyes flit over his features, leaning in to peck his plush pink lips. you grips his wrists, stroking them.
"but i want to do it now, i really want to see it." satoru breathes heavily. he feels like there is no air in his lungs.
"okay." it comes out soft, you are too good for him. "i just need you to put something on if i'm taking my boxers off."
his large palm trails down your bare chest "you're too pretty, you're everything i want and i don't trust myself to not take you." you slowly nod before holding his hand. satoru follows you without a question, he would follow you to ends of the earth without any hesitation.
your bedroom is pink where your apartment is white everywhere else, it is like you were hiding all the colour in here. it is his first time in your bedroom despite the countless times you slept over in his.
you have plushies all over your bed, the sheets are pink, your fluffy pillows are pink, your closet is wide open and all that meets the eye is pink. your laptop, headset, desk. it is all pink.
you leave him beside your bed and he sits at the edge with an increasingly painful erection making his boxers tight.
his eyes trail over your room and he has to adjust his cock again. this should not be a turn on.
yet something about you, a pretty little thing like you touching yourself in such an adorable room, getting fucked by him in here.
the thought of him pressing your face into these pink sheets and rawing your cunt with reckless abandon. it makes him lose his mind.
he winces as he tugs his swollen cock. when you come back into his view, pink lacy panties are covering your pussy and the matching bra that conceals your tits makes satoru groan.
you draw closer to him and his large palms caress your hips. "now i know you wear cute panties." he jokingly says but there is a desperate undertone in his voice.
when you kneel down, satoru thinks he might be too turned on to think. he wants to keep you to himself.
your hand strokes along his happy trail before teasing the waistband framing his deep v line. he gently grasps your wrist, preventing you from going further.
"we'll leave the blow job for another day, okay? you can use your hand, i'll tell you what to do." you nod yet your eyes look all hungry. his abs tense, staring at your face as he tucks his thumbs into his boxers and tugs them down his thighs.
finally having his aching cock unrestricted has him grunting. your expression is so flustered yet you are pressing your legs together to dull that burning desire at the sight of him.
he grits his teeth, you are staring at it, from the pinkness of his swollen tip, to the dip where his head meets his shaft. the hefty girth with veins trailing down it, there is one particularly prominent one along the underside.
satoru wants to make you feel every inch of it inside, he wants to make you take his shape. maybe he is thinking too deeply, he jolts when your mouth surrounds the side of his ballsack and your little tongue is laved along it repeatedly. "don't- ohmfuck. okay, okay." he pants, fingers curling into his palms.
you need to stop before satoru shoves his entire cock down your throat without any care that you are gagging and choking on it. the gasp that leaves him is way too shaky. his tip goes past your face, it is over the crown of your head, it is too big for you. he is too big for you but he cannot not touch you.
he needs you like he needs air. he hums softly, he should stop you. he really should but he cannot when you are sucking at his balls. your little hands resting on his upper thighs and your mouth is draining him of any self preservation.
"you like it?" there is a sticky noise as your mouth pulls back, so much saliva on his skin. it is even webbed in your mouth.
"mm, you're so big toru." hearing those words in your soft voice makes his cock ache. he should not, he really should not but he needs to see it.
"keep that pretty baby mouth closed." he cups the back of your head, gripping his cock and squeezing it tightly before he presses it into your cheek. he curses, burning it into memory as he rubs his mushroom tip along your lips. his pre cum looks better than any lipgloss you own.
his fingers tangle in your hair to make you look up at him. having pretty little you, kneeling in nothing but laced panties chips away at satoru's restraint.
"want you to wrap your hand around it, can you do that for me?" you hum, when he lets go your fingers take his place. right around his base, your hand is so much smaller and so much softer. your fingers do not even reach around the perimeter of his cock.
his breaths are all laboured and hard, "don't put it in your mouth, just lick the head." his thumb strokes your cheek and you lean closer. your squirming slimy tongue trails over the slit and satoru throbs against the muscle.
"fuck, baby, you're so good at listening." he grips your hand to guide you up and down his length. "squeeze it a bit and move your hand like this." pre cum dribbles and he lets you do it on your own. it is jerky and unsure but somehow your hand feels so much better than his. he leans back on his arms, his hips moving slightly, his chest heaving and his dick begging for release.
"am i doing okay?" you mumble, begging for praise, feeling the ridges of his cock along your fingers while you slowly stroke up over his thick head and down his shaft.
the liquid seeping from his tip glides down along the sides and collects on your fingers, making it easier to jerk him off.
"more than okay, pretty girl. you're perfect." satoru's hand tangles in your pink sheets, the other reaching to tuck your hair behind your ear.
"faster?" you tilt your head, you are like a puppy. the cutest one ever.
"if you want." he grunts, when your hand starts pumping at his cock more, his eyes roll back. the muscles along his thighs flexing, all over his body in fact. he cannot help but fuck his hips upwards to meet your movements.
he is leaking incessantly, it coats your hand and it sounds all sticky and wet when you rub his cock. satoru curses, he feels like a virgin, maybe it was you, maybe it was your hand on him but it made his stomach all tight and his cock throb with no control.
you stroke at his base with a vigorous pace, your other hand surrounding his upper shaft and moving much slower. he jerks, teeth gritting when your tongue laves over the pinkness of his head before you take it in your mouth. it is so warm and wet, it makes him lose his mind.
your lips rest right before his shaft and the second you suck, satoru tightly grips the sheets, his head hanging and his jaw dropped to moan erotically.
"baby, baby what are you doing to me?" his unsteady palm caresses the crown of your head, petting you like the sight of his cock in your mouth does not tear him to bits. like it has not thrown him over the edge.
he wonders if you can feel him pulsing against your tongue. he wants to know what deeper in your little mouth would feel like wrapped around him.
"you're so fucking good, holy shit. never felt this good before." he groans and your eyes meet his, your wide innocent looking eyes despite how he has tainted you already. you look too pure for what you are doing.
"fuck m'gna cum. gna cum, take your mouth off baby." his hips stutter, muscles jumping. his toes curl into the fluffy mat beneath you both. you are still licking and wetly slurping around his head while you stroke his cock. the heated muscle of your tongue laving at his slit.
satoru's never came this quick before. his lids keep fluttering, he cannot stop groaning. his mind is too occupied with the thought of cumming in your mouth to stop you though he knows he should.
you keep touching and satoru has lost it already. he does not realise he is cumming in your little mouth until your hands have slowed down and you are teary eyed with milky liquid dripping down your jaw.
he curses. satoru is so sensitive and you are swallowing, why do you keep swallowing?
"baby, don't swallow. fuck, you don't have to." your hands shift to rest on his thighs, your brows furrowed and your little throat still bobbing.
you lean back and strands of cum are webbed in your mouth, still connected to his softening member. it drips onto the rug beneath you.
you sniffle, swallowing hard while you gaze up at him. your eyes are all glossy and pretty.
"i didn't think it would be that much." you are on your knees, right in front of him with your belly full of his cum, looking like the sweetest girl in the whole world.
you are his, you are all his. you have to be.
he cups either side of your face, leaning down to kiss you hard. he tilts his head, his tongue gliding over yours and the taste of his cum heavy in your mouth.
he reaches under your arms to lift you into his lap, nose nuzzling yours while he hugs you close. you are so much smaller you tuck right in along his large frame.
"i like you too much." he breathes into your shared air.
satoru cannot get enough of you.
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etheries1015 · 5 months
Note
We share the love language of biting. Now imagine TWST beatsfolk has that as an actual sign of courting. Like you're chilling with Leona, not dating or wooing him, and then you bite his cheek in affection. And all of Savanaclaw is shocked because among them, it's the same as i.e. proposing marriage. The utter chaos XD
OHH MY GOSSSHHH YOUR BRAIN >>> I LITERALLY LOVE THIS SO MUCH??? HAHAHA SODEFHSELKJD i'm gonna expand on that for a few characters...
Accidentally courting them
General warnings: Gender-neutral reader, not really proof read lol. Obvious Malleus and Lilia favoritism <3 I also decided that they ARE dating in this scenario, I think its cuter that way in my head heuheu
Featuring: Leona, Ruggie, Jack, Malleus, Lilia, ... and Rook HAHA.
TW: none! Just a bunch o' fluff of biting your non-human lover without realizing it was a sign of courtship <3
Leona
It was a typical day for Leona. You two were sitting in the lounge where most of the other students lingered, Leona becoming rather... possessive as of late. Instead of resting in his bedroom away from prying eyes as you had requested from your lover, he ignored all your feeble cries requesting privacy. Instead, he holds you in his lap without worrying what others are thinking. A form of showing others you were his, and his alone. You were conflicted in your feelings, staring at him. His eyes were closed, but he could feel your gaze burning into his head.
"How long are you-" Then it happened. You gave in. You gave his cheek a bit of a nibble. All of the sudden the chattering stopped, all eyes were on you, before they start patting Leonas back and giving him congrats while a few seemed to pull presents right out of their asses.
"Wha- what's going on?" Leona grumbled with a light blush before growling and pushing the face of someone who tried to hand him another gift.
"You all look like idiots! You know biting means something different to us. Don't be dumb." Okay, now you were extra confused. Seeing your utter ignorance, Leona sighed.
"Biting in our land is a sign of courtship, herbivore." ...Oh. You blush deeply and hide your face in his chest, Leona looking away flustered and ruffling your hair.
"Try again in a few years, and I just might bite you back."
Ruggie
You were walking down the halls with your boyfriend when suddenly you had the urge to just...bite him. an overwhelming sense of love and affection for the fact he had given you some of the bread he (probably legally) got ahold of. You smiled fondly at the bread and back at Ruggie before placing your mouth on the bulb of his shoulder, causing him to yelp in suprise and dropping his half of the bread.
"wha- huh?! What was that for?" He became flustered, bending over to pick up his bread and slowly move away from you with bright red cheeks. You furrowed your eyebrows and hugged yourself, almost embarrassed.
"I'm sorry, I just...I dunno," Your cryptic and non specific response left him with his jaw open and eyes wide, spluttering out things like "We're still in school! I don't have the funds yet-" before a familiar fist came and knocked the back of Ruggies head. Leona stood there smiling in amusement and chuckling at you.
"I don't think they know what that means to us beastman, Ruggie." Even more confused then before, you asked for clarification.
"You just asked him to marry you with that bite of yours, herbivore." Now YOUR mouth was wide open, and Ruggie managed to get flee from the scene without much notice from you nor his senior.
Oh brother. You have a lot of communicating to do with that one.
Jack
You were sitting at the lunch table eating away at your food when you noticed...Jack's biceps. You marveled at the sight of his bulky arms- it's a wonder to you how he managed to become so strong and have the motivation to train all day. With a burst of admiration, instead of biting into your sandwich - you took a bite into his muscle. He yelped in suprise and just stared at you, face slowly turning red. Ace and Deuce laughed at his reaction, ready to ask you what was up before Jack took it upon himself to... well, flustered and rapidly spit-firing plans.
"W-we are still so young! Are you sure about this? I-i never knew our relationship was at this level!" He grabbed both of your hands and looked you in your (bewildered) eyes.
"If you're serious about this, I promise I will protect and love you for the rest of my life. But before we go ahead with the ceremony, I want you to meet my parents and get their blessings. Oh, and I need to get a stable job after we finish school first, too, so I can support you and our future. know we haven't talked about marriage before but-" You quickly cut him off in astonishment before crying out,
"MARRIAGE?! Jack, WHAT are you talking about?! I am absolutely not ready for marriage! What got into you?!"
...Queue Ruggie and Leona hysterically laughing at your utter confusion, reveling in the ignorance of it all for a few moments longer before explaining properly what you had just committed yourself unknowingly to.
Malleus
You were laying in the bed of Malleus Draconias's dorm, scrolling on your phone whilst his tail wrapped around your waist as he sat next to you reading a book. You sighed lightly and leaned your head back against the board of the mattress, turning slightly to look at your handsome fae lover. Your eyes then went down to his pale and perfect skin of his neck, the way it was free from all blemishes, smooth, and bright. Something about it made you want to taint it a light shade of red... He felt you shuffle slightly to adjust your body to be in just the right position where his neck was in full view. He glanced over to you feeling you wriggle free from his tails grasp, tilting his head seeing the look in your eyes crazed as you leaned over and just...chomped down on his collarbone.
You felt his tail twitch and his hands quickly throw the book he was reading aside to grasp your wrists, turning your body around and pinning you to the bed and carrassing your cheek with his tail.
"Biting..." He murmured, "Does this mean the same to humans as it does to Fae? You wish to be wed?" Your jaw dropped and cheeks took on a rosey hue, stuttering over yourself.
"W-wed?! I mean, I like to bite when I feel affectionate b-but marriage...I mean maybe one day b-but-"
"Biting in Fae culture is a sign of courtship and ownership. How brazen of you to mark me," he chuckled, "I shall take it you wish to own the next king of Briar Valley?" You could tell at this point Malleus was teasing you, something he picked up from the time you two have been dating.
Malleus could not help but return the favor by riddling your body with his own bite marks. Although he understood you perhaps did not have the intention of marrying him with your silly little form of affection, he knew in his mind with every bite that he was very serious about your future with him.
Lilia
Lilia already knew that biting in the human world did not mean marriage, yet was akin to something more of "cute aggression." So when you have the habit of biting him in the privacy of yours or his room, he knows you simply meant it as a form of affection, letting him know that you had an overwhelming sense of love for the old fae. He bit you back consistently on many occasions, it just seemed to be the perfect form of showing love for one another.
You didn't actually know it meant something much deeper, until you were in the diasomnia lounge and unable to control yourself as you grabbed Lilias hand and bit down gently on his wrist. You couldn't help it, he was being so entirely silly and loving towards you, that you couldn't help but show this public display of affection. Much to everyone else's dismay, however. Sebek stares at you with his mouth agape, sounds of disbelief escaping past his lips yet a sentence unable to form. Malleus as well seemed surprised at this.
"(y/n)," Malleus said, "You wish to marry Lilia?" You coughed at the sudden question and let out a feeble and awkward chuckle.
"I mean...I wouldn't mind one day, of course. We haven't really talked about it. Why the sudden question?"
"HOW DARE YOU," Sebek cried out after finally finding his words, "How dare you bite Lilia and be so insolent as to not move forward with your actions in dignity! YOU MUST TAKE RESPONSIBILITY FOR YOUR PROPOSAL-" Lilia started snickering, cutting Sebek off with a wave of his hand.
"It's quite alright, Sebek. Biting means something much different to humans than Fae, I suppose this is the first you had seen us put on a show of affection, hence your confusion." He turned to you, who had furrowed eyebrows and pursed lips at Sebeks sudden outburst.
"Biting, my dear, is a form of courtship to us fae. It is a sign of ownership," He chuckled.
"Why didn't you tell me that?!" You exasperated, "I mean, it wouldn't have changed anything I have done, but I would have been more careful about it... especially if it means something more to you," Lilia gracefully explained he understood it meant something slightly different to humans, before gently grabbing your hand and raising it to his mouth.
"Well, now that you understand what it means," He put your ring finger into his mouth and took a bite at the base,
"Would you like to bite me once more, my dear?"
Bonus:
Rook
You bit his arm and he immediately was on one knee.
"Was that a proposal? You know mon cheri, biting one affectionately is often a declaration of courtship-" You hit the top of his head and walked away from your interesting boyfriend.
"You're not a beastman or a fae! I'm never biting you again!" Your face red and folding your arms, turning away (ah, his cute tsundere lover.)
Oh woe is Rook! He begs and begs you to bite him more, he wants to be covered in your marks. It means you were claiming him as your own, right? RIGHT??
~~~
This was so fun to write DFSEFDSFIHSLDKJF thank you for the brain rot heuheuheueheueh
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thegreatgeodo · 2 months
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Alright let's do this
At 10 notes i'll Say something Nice to a random mutual (Not posting the proof sorry y'all)
At 20 notes i'll say something very nice to all of my mutuals
At 50 notes i'll start studying what is a dual person and how it affects me
At 70 i'll clean up my office (gonna do it tomorrow cuz it's late as i write this)
At 120 notes i'll post a random pic from my phone
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(early art for Geodo!)
At 150 notes i'll study some more for school (Fiiine i'll be more responsible, goddamn)
At 200 notes i'll read the picture of Dorian gray as much as possible in 2 hours (wip. Will do tomorrow night)
At 300 notes i'll take one of those gender tests (it called me gay and i'm unsure what to think of it)
At 350 notes i'll post the very much unfinished alpha of my videogame (on it; can't find the file rn)
At 1k notes i'll tell my psychologist about Cassidy (god FUCKING DAMMIT if i get sent to an asylum or something it's y'all's fault)
At 5k notes i'll drink battery acid (Sour strips candies + monster)
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moneymasnn · 1 year
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Right Timing | Charles Leclerc
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Notes: 11k words of Charles and y/n pinning for each other…your all (hopefully) going to love it xx
this is my first post in about 6 months and I'm so happy to be back! thank you all for the continuous love and support I fucking love this app. this fic hasn't been proof read but oh well, ignore some spelling mistakes, sorry. anyways... ENJOY!!!
Blurb: One where you have a huge crush on your best friend's brother, the one and only charles leclerc, since you were a teenager, with him continuously telling you he was too old for you and you had no chance. You eventually gave up hope and moved on. But did charles? (Best friends brother troop/ slight enemy’s to lovers troop/ Older boy and younger girl)
Warnings: lots of angst, crying, sad y/n and sad Charles. lots of arguments and slight nsfw? but not really. Small age gap.
11.1k words
Arthur leclerc, your best friend since nursery… Your favourite partner in crime, your favourite laugh on a bad day, your favourite person in the whole wide world. Best to be described as home, your comfort person. He was the voice within reason, all that was right in the world. 
He's your best friend.
Y/n y/l/n, she was truly and utterly his favourite thing about the world. He counts his lucky stars he has her to help him carry his weight. Y/n was the only person Arthur let visit him when his dad died, and in his books, that made her alright. Sure she would make him want to scream and cry and punch walls, especially with her choice in men. But Arthur was always there for her, when she needed to laugh or to cry he knew what it was she needed at any given moment, he could read her like she was his favourite book. 
She was his best friend. 
How it started:
A little girl with puffy red cheeks sat at the bottom of the nursery playground. Her legs crossed on the green summer time grass as she sniffled again, gently plucking a daisy for the ground before adding it to the daisy chain she was making. She liked to say she enjoyed her own presence, but truly she was distracting herself from the lack of company. With the other young girls teasing her for her wild curly hair, she willingly chose to be sat on the grass of the playground alone.
“Hey! Can you teach me how you did that? I wanna make one for my mum!”
And with no regard for her personal space he sat down next to her on the grass, squashing half of her daisy chain, but she didn't tell him that.
He didn't care that she was crying or that she had poofy hair or that she was even a girl, he was eager to learn her talents and carry on with his lunch break.
But when Arthur noticed the signs that the girl was rather shy and sad he thought he would stay with her for the rest of lunch, keep her company.
Little did she know this company wasn't going anywhere any time soon.
And at age five, the pair promised to be friends for life.
It didn't take long for them to get their mothers talking, and after that it was set in stone, playdate after playdate. Arthur's mum became your mum's hairdresser, so there were many nostalgic memories for the two in the salon, especially when y/n would accompany her mother to her appointments. The pair's best memory is y/n letting Arthur cut her hair in the storage cupboard of his mum's shop. The horror on both parents' faces when one of y/n's pig tails were held in the hand of the young boy.
Their friendship only bloomed from there…
After spending almost every weekend watching Arthur and his older brother race in karts in the rain, to spending most afternoons around the leclerc residence playing with Arthur on his xbox, the girl felt like family.
When she was young she always found herself drawn to the middle leclerc. He was away a lot of the time, karting. He was slightly older so no doubt he found the pair childish and would always moan when he was made to spend time with them.
Charles' mother was the first to figure out your little crush on the boy. She first noticed it when you joined the family on a winter skiing trip, you were around thirteen. It was your first time up in the mountains, so when your arms started to wave and you felt your body lean way too far back Charles did the only morally right thing, dropping the glove he was putting on and outstretching his body to catch you in time.
He didn't catch you in time. 
Instead his heroic act to save you turned into humiliation when he realised you had taken him down with you.
Pascal carefully watched as you turned around, her eyes glued to yours that were glued to her sons. She watched your tinted red cheeks as Charles scoffed and begged you to get off of him as his bare hands were now engulfed in the thick snow, causing him to suffer with a cold for the rest of the holiday.
Your eyes widened and sparked at the sight of him. You would gaze up at him like he hung the moon and the stars, an expression his mother would soon get used to as she watched you fall for her son over the next few years. 
Charles was older, and very uninterested. He didn't find your little crush as cute as everyone else did, the thought it made him look uncool. He would roll his eyes when you would grab his arm or duck when you would try to kiss his cheek. He hated when your families would go out for meals and you would sit next to him, or how you would call him after a race to congratulate him, no matter his result.
Charles always saw you as his little brother's best friend, nothing more and nothing less.
That was until your first boyfriend. A three year age gap wasn't that big of a deal as they all grew older. Charles found himself having mutual friends with his brother and would occasionally bump into Arthur and you at a party.
You were 16, you thought you had met the love of your life, an older boy, he was 18, around charles age who was now 19 and worming his way into f2. 
Arthur didn't approve of Joao. He knew you were trying to prove to charles that the age gap isn't that big of a deal after his brother had repetitively told you you were to young for him, but somewhere down the line you found yourself mesmerised by Joaos eyes and that was it for you, charles no longer rented the forefront of your mind.
Joao was great, at first. You knew he wasn't the love of your life, but for the moment he looked to play the role quite well, and you were happy. You just didn't expect it to end like it did, maybe age gaps do matter?
You were at some house party in the hills of monaco, some friend of Joaos. You were downstairs in the kitchen with Arthur as he watched you drink your body weight in alcohol. He could tell something was bothering you but he chose not to mention it. In all your years of friendship he knew you would come to him eventually. 
“Where is the lover boy anyway?” he spoke up.
Your lack of response is when Arthur clocked onto your boyfriend being the reason for your excessive drinking. Him ditching you, yet again.
You slammed down your empty red cup, wiping the dribble from your chin as you decided enough was enough and you looked for the presence of your boyfriend. 
Arthur bid you good luck on your travels as his attention was now turned to the girl he had been eyeing up across the room.
And with your liquid courage you stumbled around the party. The house was huge. Gigantic windows that draped around the whole house. Everywhere you looked was so picturesque, making you fall in love with Monaco more and more. From the kitchen window you could see the river of lights leading down to the beach front. From the other end you could see continuous hills leading up into the stary sky, tiny specs of light from homes probably just as big and fancy as the one you were currently standing in swarmed your vision, a far cry from the apartment you and your mother shared where your view was a brick wall to another apartment complex.
Your heels were rubbing the back of your ankles as your hands gripped the bottom of your dress pulling it down as it was miles too short as you made your way out to the garden.
And there he sat, on the steps leading to the lit up outdoor pool, your boyfriend. A skinny little blonde girl sat on his knee. She was older than you, clearly. She took the cigarette from his lips and placed it on her own as her other arm draped over his shoulder. It was like this week after week, it was like you were a ghost.
This isn't the young love you put out for, and you decided enough was enough.
You always forgave him, but tonight was different. This night changed everything.
Tears welled in your eyes as you turned back into the house, you were going home. Joao caught a glimpse of this as he jumped up and followed you back into the house, why he would always chase after you you still don't know.
“Y/n, baby stop.” you ignored the sound of his voice as you pushed through the crowds of people to get back to the kitchen in hopes that Arthur was still there. He wasn't.
You made it to the kitchen before he grabbed the back of your arm pushing you against the kitchen island. His hand came up to wipe away a fallen strand of hair as he tucked it behind your ear.
“Come on y/n i didn't even do anything-”
“She was on your lap.” your voice crooked, you so desperately didn't want to be the little girl everyone thought you was and cry, not in front of everyone anyway. 
“It's not that big of a deal-”
“It is that big of a deal! I'm humiliated!” you shouted back, creating a scene you so desperately wanted to avoid.
“I just- I just want to go home.” you said in between sniffles.
“Baby, don't cry, let's just go back to mine, okay? I'll call a taxi-”
“No, I want to go home, my home.” you begged, the tears were falling now.
His grip tightened around your arm as you tried to wriggle out of his grasp.
“I need to find Arthur, and I need to go home.” you said, pushing his arm as he still had you pinned against the counter.
“Oh come on y/n, drop the act you know you want to come back to mine.”
You threw your head back dodging his fingers that were trying to touch your hair again, avoiding his eyes.
“Joao let go, you're hurting me.”
That only made his grip tighten around your arms, pushing you against the counter even harder than before. As he leant down to your ear-
“She said let go mate.”
Your vision was too blurry to focus on what happened next, but you felt joao grip loosen as he stood back.
“Yeah and what are you gonna do about it, leclerc?”
That's when punches were thrown and Joao was hunched over holding his busted lip. Joao was grabbed by another person before he could lunge back at who you assumed was Arthur, but as you turned your head you saw a different leclerc shaking his hand. His knuckles were red, and his eyes were darker than the ones you were used to, charles.
“y/n get in the car.” he said, you stood up, sniffing and nodding your head. But then you remembered your missing friend.
“Arthur-”
“I'll get him. Get in the car.” his tone was strong, not what you were used to from the middle leclerc. 
You waited by his car in the cold for a few moments just before Charles came out the house, a stumbling tipsy Arthur under his arm. There was pink lip gloss smeared over his cheeks and lips, and at that moment you felt a small smile creep on your face. 
However, the car ride home was silent, you sat in the front with Charles, as Arthur passed out in the back seat. Faint french music played from the radio as charles eyes were firmly gripped on the road.
As you rounded the street to your home Charles finally spoke up, “You really know how to pick them.”
You sniffled again, unable to reply to him mainly because he was right and you were embarrassed. As the car came to a stop Charles undid his seat belt mumbling that he would walk you to your door.
He balanced on the back of his heels as he watched the moonlight highlight your tear stained cheeks. Charles thought you looked beautiful that night even though you had been crying for the last half an hour, your hair hadn't been brushed and you were rummaging through your purse like a mad woman, he still thought you were pretty. He would never tell you that though.
“Don't tell me you've lost-”
“Got them!” You giggled, shaking your keys in the air before whipping your nose for what felt like the fifth time that night. You stalled as you pushed the key in the door, turning to look Charles in his eye for the first time since the party.
“Thank you-” but he cut you off, not wanting to hear it. You were his brother's best friend, Arthur wouldn't forgive him if he ever watched you in a position like the one that night and didn't do anything.
“Dont.”
“No really, thank you, charles.” You smiled, Charles smiled too, mainly because it was probably the first time you had called him Charles and not charlie.
After a moment you dropped your bag on the floor and wrapped your arms around the boy's waist, your head rested on his chest as he hastily moved his hand and rubbed your back.
“Just make sure the next one isn't a total dick, okay?” he whispered, his chin placed on the top of your head.
He didn't know how much that sentence broke your little 16 year old heart.
You smiled and entered the house, Charles didn’t drive off that street before you waved at him out your window.
On the drive home we looked back at his younger brother, drooling on the back seat of his car. 
It was that night where he realised the both of you weren't all that different, but so far apart.
The first time Charles saw you after that night was a couple months later, a family day at the beach. You had turned seventeen in that time and joao was old news. But charles eyes were stuck on your body as he watched you sat in the sand on your own. Sipping from a bottle of beer that you most likely stole from his crate, your toes were dipped in the wet sand as you watched the sun set on your own.
Arthur had brought his new girlfriend with him and even though you were still as close as ever, Arthur's attention was stuck on the pretty blonde that was talking to his nan.
The rest of your families were distracted too, or so Charles thought. His mum watched him intently as he walked back to the car park, grabbing a spare jumper from his car before making way down the beach front to join you.
He spent so much of his life avoiding you, but after the night of the party he just wanted to make sure you were okay. 
He crouched down in the sand next to you, aware of how your eyes were on him. He placed the jumper on your legs,
“You're going to get a cold.”
You scoffed but complied. Putting the jumper over your head and pulling at the sleeves, it smelled like him.
“How are you?” you asked charles, he could feel your eyes staring into his side profile, but he stared at the sun setting over the monegasque sea.
“I'm okay.”
The boys lost their dad a little under a year ago now, you hadn't really seen Charles since. But he knew you hadn't left Arthur's side for them few months.
“How you holding up, really?” you nudged his shoulder with yours, he did his little signature smile before looking down at his lap. Avoiding the question.
“Thank you. For looking after Arthur I mean, he's lucky to have you.” 
“Charlie…”
He looked in your eyes this time, he looked so sad, so broken. So desperate for a hug. You didn't pressure him to answer your question, insted you gently placed your head on his shoulder looking along the coastline in silence.
Charles appreciated the silence and the way you didn't push him, moments like these he understood why Arthur loved you so much.
“It will be alright you know.” you hummed on his shoulder.
“I know.” Charles whispered back.
“Really, i can already see Charles leclerc, ferrari formula one driver. Your face will be all over Monaco, and we're all so proud. He'll be so proud.” 
Charles hated how much you believed him, because in that moment a nineteen year old boy with dreams bigger than the world itself everything felt impossible. 
“Don't forget about me when you're all big and famous, yeah?” you smiled up at him.
Charles looked down at you, his eyes were glossy but the smile on his lips was enough to melt your heart, he threw his head back in a laugh. 
“I dont think I'm ever getting rid of you.”
Now it was your turn to laugh, “at least your self aware charlie.”
After all the laughing he noticed how your eyes shifted from his own to his lips, and then he remembered why he was avoiding you in the first place.
“y/n..” he whispered, oh how he whispered your name in his little broken accent, your heart melted as he backed away.
“I know, I know.”
You smiled and placed your head back on his shoulders looking at the sun that was nearly gone.
“You know I'm too old for you, right?” Charles whispered as he leaned his head on yours that was resting on his arm.
“I'm in it for the long game leclerc.” Charles giggled as he let his cheek get comfy on your head, pushing his side into you as you fully watched the sun disappear over the sea.
On the night of your 18th birthday Arthur had taken you out to your first club, you drank, alot…
Charles happened to be at the same club, so when your drunk body collided with his you couldn't help but wrap your arm around his torso, clinging onto him.
He gently placed hand on the small of your back smiling as you leaned on him.
Charles was 20 now, soon to turn 21 and had just signed a contract with alfa romeo, he was officially in formula one. Even Though you were proud of him you missed having him around. 
You stood on your heels, leaning up to his ear as Charles met your movements and bent down to hear you better in the loud club and your heart fluttered at the small action of his ear hovering near your face.
“I'm eighteen now charlie.” he could hear the smile in your voice.
“I know, happy birthday mon amour.” kissing your forehead, this was the closest you had ever been to him before, and you craved more. He had never called you the nickname before, he was teasing you.
“I'm officially an adult nowwwww.” you longed out his ear before you hand palmed his cheek. You so desperately wanted to kiss him.
“Y/n.” His tone was serious as he caught onto your intentions.
“Y/nnn.” You teased him back, imitating his serious tone and rolling your eyes as you do so.
“I know you want to Charlie, come on…” you giggled at him, but you were drunk and a mess, so the arm around your waist was to stop you from falling flat on your arse not because he just wanted to touch you, you thought. You pushed his hand off you and stood up straight, Charles sighed as he placed his hand back on the small of your back, you looked up at him. The stupid little puppy dog eyes that he refused to listen to.
“I'm too old for you, love.” Charles' hand once again held you close as you started to lose your balance again, “and you're too drunk.”
“Drunk on love.” you exclaimed, Charles laughed, like really laughed and you couldn't help but admire the creases around his eyes. He moved your arm over his shoulder so he could hold you up.
“Let's find Arthur and get you home, okay?” but as Charles pulled away you pulled him back.
“I've waited eighteen years, Charlie, I'm sure I have the patience to wait a bit longer.”
Charles thought maybe you had forgotten that night, but you remembered the way his hand was filmy stuck to the small of your back most of the night, and how he lent down to hear you and how his stubble felt in the palm of your hand, and the butterflies only got worse. 
You were falling harder everyday and you hated yourself for it, he didn't like you back.
Charles carried on with his f1 career with alfa romeo that year and you took up a journalism degree, following around arthur as he navigated the world of f3. You would occasionally bump into Charles when the boys had races at the same circuit. 
But with his first Monaco race you obviously had to be there to support him.
Charles hated how his heart beat boomed in his ear when he saw you standing in his garage with your old ferrari cap on and an alfa romeo shirt with the number 16 on the back hugging your chest. 
You truly had blossomed into a beautiful young woman and Charles found it harder to stay away. Your hair isn't frizzy anymore and you had for sure gone through puberty, he didn't like to stare but he found it hard not to sometimes. Especially on family boat trips when you would wear a bikini in front of him.
The worst part is you hadn't even openly flirted with him in a while, and he couldn't seem to figure out why, and that bothered him so much more than he liked. 
The small little y/n that used to follow him everywhere, always latched to his arm, looking up at him with heart eyes. I mean, you weren't sixteen anymore that was sure, but Charles couldn't help but feel a sense of abandonment that you weren't head over heels for him anymore. 
Charles needed to snake off that weird feelling in his stomach.
You were now 19 about to turn 20, it was the off season and you couldn't wait to soak up some sun on the leclerc yacht. Your favourite summer getaway.
You drove up to the small paddock on a little beach and climbed onto the grey boat, it was charles’, of course. The whole family was there, you were talking to pascal as arthur pulled you around the side of the boat, nearly causing you to break an ankle.
“Erm hello? Watch it.” you scolded him for pulling you so ruffly.
“You're over the whole in love with my older brother thing, right?” he asked, his hand running through his hair.
“I- i why?” you said, clocking your head to the side at Arthurs panicked manor. He knew you had been doing great this year, and he also knew why you declined every single boy that had attempted to ask you out on a date this year. 
“Okay, erm,'' Arthur stood up straight and scratched the back of his head.
“Forget your stuff, let's just get off this boat. And er, don't turn around okay?” he tried to nonchalantly say, his hands gripping your shoulders were a dead give away something was wrong though.
You nodded your head and followed Arthur down the steps of the boat before stopping in your tracks.
“Since when have I ever listened to you? I going to read my book on the sun-”
Your mouth fell open as you turned around to be met with Charles, your Charles with a girl.
A pretty girl, beautiful actually, she was slim and perfect and her smile was enough to make you want to crumble in a ball. 
She was leaning on him, grabbing his bicep as her hand brushed through his hair, he was laughing like really and truly laughing at whatever it was she had to say and you had never felt emotions like the ones you felt in that moment.
You felt like he had personally ripped your heart out himself, no remorse, and had just served it back to you on a silver platter.
He really didn't want you. 
“y/n, i didn't even know he was bringing her i-”
“You knew?”
Arthur sighed before running his hands through his hair, “it's been around four months, mum really likes her, she's nice. I mean she's not you, but he's happy so i can't complain.'' Arthur shrugged his shoulders, not sure how to console you in that moment.
You turned away from the happy couple and sat on the small steps that lead down to the bottom of the yacht. Arthur sat down next to you, pulling your body into his as he wrapped his arm around you.
“What about me? When will I be happy?”
You hadn't realised you were crying until Arthur grabbed your arm and pulled you straight off the boat.
That was your wake up call, you had spent too much of your life waiting for someone that never wanted you. 19 years to be exact, a sad sad story to anyone that knew you. You were embarrassed and angry at yourself. 
You needed to actually move on. 
So that's what you did.
And that's when you met him, a young british boy, he was around your age and drove for a papaya team that shared the f1 grid with charles.
Lando norris.
He was 20, awkward, way too cocky for only his second year, and when you bumped into him in Bahrain of 2020 you chose him to be the one to make you move on.
He asked for your number a few races later and the two of you used to text all the time. He took you on cute picnic dates, asked if he could kiss you before he did, and overall was the kindest most respectful boyfriend a girl could ask for. You were actually happy, and it only took nineteen years.
It was imola when you bumped into Charles in the paddock, his brother wasn't here so he was confused as to why you were here, but then he saw the McLaren hat on your head and his eyebrows furred evenmore.
“y/n?”
“Hello, charles.” you gave him a tight lip smile before moving past him but he chased after you why you walked down the paddock strip. Past the ferrari garage.
“You're a McLaren fan now, huh?” 
“Yep.”
Charles' heart hurt at your bluntness, he grabbed your arm so you would stop walking and talk to him. 
“y/n.” serious charles. That stupid tone that usually made you freeze and obey whatever he had to say.
But this time you rolled your eyes and pulled your arm from his grip.
“Charles, I really have to be somewhere.” you lied, checking your watch.
“Like a journalism thing? Why didn't you tell me you were going to be here, you could have flown with me and Joris?” and Charlotte, but he didn't mention that.
You really tried to pull your eyes from the red drivers suit that was wrapped around his hips, he was a ferrari driver now and you had never been more happy for him. You just wanted to wrap your arms around him and tell him how proud you were of him. 
But right at this moment, you had never wanted to create more distance between you both.
“y/n?” 
Both of your heads snapped as Lando ran up to you, you coughed and took a step back from charles.
Landos arm wrapped around your shoulder as he put out a fist for Charles to spud. Charles' eyes were glued to landos arm resting on your shoulder and he could feel the blood pumping in his heart speeding up.
Lando kissed your temple and Charles' eyes were glued to yours. 
“Charles.” Lando smiled nodding his head.
“Lando.'' Charles' voice was laced with venom, not that Lando noticed. 
“So you guys are?” Charles' eyebrows furred pointing between you both.
“We havent you know, labelled it yet. It's still kind of new” you smiled, it had been months.
“But I'm happy, really happy.” Charles knew that was a message to him, you were happy and he needed to leave you be. But with Lando of all people, Charles couldn't seem to shake this one off.
Charles mumbled something about needing to be somewhere and walked away from you both. Lando again oblivious to the interaction as his arm stayed secured around you and he balabbed on about the race as you walked to the McLaren motorhome.
Charles hated him. 
Charles hated himself for his feelings.
He didn't know why he was so bothered, he had never been this bothered, nothing gotten to him like you and Lando just did. Joris told him maybe it was because he had a soft spot for you deep down, he joked that maybe Charles liked you back and Charles ignored him for the rest of the weekend at that accusation. But that didn't mean he didnt ignore his words. 
It was over, you grew up and he should feel relieved you've moved on, right?
He broke up with Charlotte a month later.
Charles scoffed when you first bought lando along to family night, he hated how your mum loved his accent and how arthur laughed at all his jokes. He hated that he hadn't caught your eye all night, instead your eyes were glued on the stupid little british boys. Charles hated it, he sat there like a toddler that hadn't gotten their own way all night. He knew it was wrong but he hated his feelings more than he hated lando being sat at his table.
Charles was in the kitchen, he was picking at the leftover pie on the table top as everyone else was outside fawning over one of landos stories, he had really charmed the family.
His mother walked into the kitchen as he was taking a bite of cherry pie looking like a caught child, she laughed at the cherry stains in the corner of his mouth and passed him a tissue.
The pair stood in silence for a moment before Pascal spoke up.
“That's definitely not allowed in your diet, my sweet.” she smirked knowing the driver's strict diet.
“But you won't tell on me maman.” Charles flashed his puppy dog eyes as his mum laughed at his actions. She sighed and moved closer to him as he stood up straight. 
“You have a lot on your mind my boy, and don't tell me you don't because I gave birth to you, I know you better than you know yourself.”
“Maman.” Charles sighed.
“This is about her isn't it?” Charles' eyes refused to look at his mother at her words.
“I don't even need to say her name, it's her, it will always be her.” she smiled as she walked over to her son and placed a hand on his cheek.
“She's happy, Charles.'' he heard the sternness in his mothers voice.
“So everyone keeps telling me.” Charles scoffed again.
“So then you know you're being an ass, right?”
Charles' eyes widened at his mothers language but she just laughed and waved him off.
“After all the years she spent pining after you, Charles, it would be cruel for you to not let her be happy.”
“But what if I'm not happy?” he asked his mum, she just sent him a sympathetic smile and grazed his cheek once more.
“Do you love her?”
“I dont know.” Charles shrugged.
“See, it would be cruel to break her heart over this kind of uncertainty. Either you love her or you're just jealous. You have a lot of thinking to do my boy, but don't do anything until you're really sure. She's fragile when it comes to you.”
Charles nodded his head.
His mum was right, he really did have a lot of thinking to do. 
And as if on queue there she was, walking into the kitchen, the widest smile on her face as she grabbed another beer from the fridge. She had started to let her curls rome free recently and it was sending charles’ heart into a spiral, with her stupid little shorts and crocs and no doubt she had conned lando into giving her his jumper. 
She used to do that to him, Charles thought, remembering all the times you had tricked him into stealing his hoodies. 
She smiled at Charles mum and told her again that the food was lovely, nodding at Charles, and she left just as quick as she came in.
“Maman, I'm so in love with her it physically hurts me.”
And there it was, the words you had so desperately wanted to hear your whole life, but you didn't hear a sound as Charles vowed to never say it again out loud. Your happiness came before his.
Charle suffered for a year, he knew he loved you, he had said it out loud once and the vulnerability he felt in that moment knowing you were stood just 15 feet away with the boy you were in love with was enough to make him swear to never voice his feelings again, he was embarrassed and wanted the world to swallow him whole. The worst part was the guilt, he could only feel like he had let one of the best things go, slip straight from his grasp all for a bit of pride. He didn't want to be seen with the young naive girl that had a crush on him, but now he just felt stupid. Stupid that he didn't recognise your love for him sooner, he had always thought you were one of the most amazing humans he had ever met, he found himself looking for you in other people when he didn't even know it. He was stupid, and he knew that for sure.
Charles dedicated the rest of the year to focusing on his f1 seat, with ferrari fucking him and sebastian over and over and after his wins at spa and monza he felt hungry for more and felt that the true love of his life should be formula one.
But his heart hurt when he didn't hear from you after his win in spa, and then it crushed him again when you didn't contact him after his result at monza.
No call.
Not even a text.
He had fully let you slip from his grasp.
It was a long year for Charles that year, and as summer break quickly approached he found girls and training were his favourite pastime. He stopped turning up to family events when he knew lando would be there and you were in love and happy. After a while it was a rarity he would even stay at an event for an hour.
He was 22 and as a new season started the only thing he was talking from lando was his teammate, not that charles was complaining. He liked Carlos, and he was ready to step up and take that 1st driver's seat. He was ready to make everyone proud just like you had promised him that night on the beach.
After a while charles mothers birthday rolled around, one he would definitely not miss as his mother requested a small family meal. Everyone was sitting, looking over the menu when Charles undoubtedly noticed the missing presence of you.
“Where's y/n?” Charles asked Lorenzo, who was sitting next to him.
Lorenzo just shrugged and turned his attention back to his menu, was it normal for you to not attend family outings? Charles hadn't been around for so long he didn't even think to consider that maybe she didn't turn up to these things anymore either.
“With Lando I suppose.” Charles murmured, he tried not to sound jealous but the older brother just laughed.
“Lando?” as he turned to his younger brother.
“Why would she- you really haven't spoken to her have you?” Lorenzo asked, his eyes widening at the thought of his brother being so dumb.
Charles just shrugged his shoulders as he urged his brother to continue.
“They broke up, a while ago actually.”
Charles didnt know why his shoulders felt lighter but he chose to ignore it and try to press some more information out of his brother.
“So? First break up, we've all been there, doesn't mean she can't be here for mamans birthday.'' Charles rolled his eyes as he tried to act like he didn't care.
“She's not even in the country charles.”
Charles' head snapped towards his brothers, “She's taking a gap year, last I heard she was staying in Australia for a while.”
Lorenzo could see the gears turning in charles’ head; he knew he wanted to ask more so he answered for him.
“Hey Arthur, where's y/n these days?” Lorenzo asked his other brother who was at the other end of the table with his girlfriend.
Arthur shrugged before answering, “Still in australia at the moment, she really likes it there, but i told her she cant like it to much because there's no way i'm sitting on a plane for twelve hours every time i want to actually see her face and not on a phone screen.” arthur joked, everyone else laughed along with him for a moment until charles countered up the courage to speak up.
“Why didn't she just travel with formula one? She wanted to be an F1 journalist anyway.”
Arthur's eyes narrowed at his brother. 
You definitely hadn't meant to cause it, but there was a small crack in between the brothers' relationship within the last year. Arthur definitely blamed Charles and his stupid effects on you for you running away.
“She wanted to be away from f1 for a while.'' Arthur told his brother like it wasn't the most obvious thing in the world, hoping to squash this table subject, not really wanting to talk about his run away best friend.
“I mean I don't blame her, especially when her Lando ended like it did. She's living her best life.” Carla, Arthurs girlfriend chimed in. Arthur slightly winced at his girlfriend's words not wanting this to be the dinner conversation tonight, especially when Charles clearly knew nothing about y/n's life within the last year.
“What?'' Charles asked the table, but no one answered him, instead everyone's heads were down dead planted down at the table, everyone except for Carla who had no idea what she had just started.
“Why did no one tell me what's been going on?” charles raised his voice slightly, catching the attention from everyone else on the table.
Charles mother intervened knowing where this was going, “charles, not right now-”
“No, she's been going through something and no one even thought to mention it? What the fuck.”
Arthur was visibly turning red, Charles noticed as Lorenzo's head was shaking telling his little brother now wasn't the time, pleading Arthur to just bite his tongue.
“Say it arthur.”
The flame was lit.
“And who do you think upset her in the first place, charles?” Arthur tutted, picking up his menu pretending to scan it so he didn't have to pay attention to the conversation anymore.
“Drop it, arthur.” Lorenzo sternly interrupted.
“Considering no ones told me anything how the fuck am i supposed to answer that question?” Charles spat back at his brother.
Arthurs cheeks were a visible red now, he was about to blow up. Something he had been holding in for a while. He slammed his menu down and turned to look at his older brother.
“You know what Charles, you have no right! No fucking right, sorry maman for the language-” charles mum just put her hands up in defence as she let her youngest son get it all off his chest. 
“She loved you, and you constantly broke her heart and told her no and then when she was finally happy in a relationship you had to go tell the world you love her so much that ‘it physically hurts you!” Arthur mugged his brother's words.
Charles was shocked, he had no idea what was happening. 
No one knew of his feelings towards you, no one except- charles head snapped towards his mother who pulled a tight lip smile and just shaked her head in a no. Charles was about to deny deny deny when-
“Yeah, she heard it. And it fucking broke her charles. It was mean and it was selfish, and I've never despised someone more than you for what you did to MY best friend.”
“Arthur-”
“I'm not finished. Then you have the decency to finally come to a family meal for the first time in nearly a year, nearly a year charles! And ask about her like you didn't completely cut her and us out of your life? You're selfish, completely and utterly selfish charles.”
Charles sat at the table pale, he felt the colour drain from his face as he scrambled to find the words to say but his mouth didn't open.
“You really do pick and choose your moments brother, I don't know why I even came tonight, I'm sorry maman but I told you I wouldn't be able to sit in a room with him.”
Arthur stood up, he grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair and took Carla's hand in the other.
“I'm really sorry maman, and everyone else, happy birthday, i guess.” Arthur gave his mother a hug and walked out of the restaurant with carla. Leaving everyone else at the table in pure shock.
Especially Charles, he had know idea what to say, he looked up at his mother opposite him who looked at him with sympathy.
“My sweet boy, I'm sorry to say it but there was some truth to your brother's words. I told you she was fragile.”
Charles felt awful.
Charles felt like he was going to cry at the table.
It had been a long year for Charles, he had groveld for the most of it, thinking you were happy somewhere while Lando flew you anywhere and everywhere around the world. Now he came to think of it, maybe there was a better reason for the young mclaren driver avoiding him.
He wasn't really friends with Lando, but his teammate, Carlos was close with the boy and whenever there was an offer for the three of them to hang out Lando magically had something come up and couldn't attend. 
It all made sense now. Even the fact he hadn't seen you in the paddock, he thought maybe you were caught up in your studies, oh how he was wrong.
He sat at the table for the rest of the meal, and with every passing comment he didn't think he could sink more into his chair.
He was an awful person, he thought.
When the family were leaving the restaurant Charles hugged his family members, swallowing the anxiety and embarrassment down.
He looked over at Lorenzo who sent him a sympathetic smile, placing a hand on his shoulder.
“Tonight wasn't supposed to go like that, i told arthur to just drop it i-”
“No, it's okay. I deserved it.”
“I dont know, you fucked up, but you didnt need to run, nether did she.'' Lorenzo, his older brother shrugged.
“What happened? With her and lando." Charles pushed.
“alot .” lorezono chucked.
“I don't know if it's my place to-” enzo sighed at that stupid little puppy dog face his younger brother was pulling.
“I'm pretty sure she cheated on him, Arthur said as she fell into a bit of a hole. So the only thing she really could do was just leave Monaco for a while. She seems good, Charles, healthy and happy." Lorenzo shrugged, watching as Charles' eyes widened and he latched onto every word. 
“If it's any closure she's not mad at you, Arthur, well I'm sure he would be he loves y/n like a twin sister, but she's not mad at you. She was just confused and hurt.”
“If i call her-'' Charles started but his voice flattened as he realised it would ne dumb to contact you.
“Call her Charles, I'm sure she would be happy to hear from you.”
You knew what today was, arthur's molthers birthday. You had called her in the morning sending her your love and wishes, she told you that Charles was attending the meal and Arthur would be on his best behaviour, little did you know.
You wondered if Charles knew what you were up to, if pascal or lorenzo had been keeping him in the loop.
You were at the beach, cocktail in hand and book in the other, your earphones were in as you hummed to the faint sound of the music and read, but you were disturbed when the rigging was a call from your phone echoing through your earphones, charles.
Pick it up.
Pick it up.
You couldn't do it.
Your body froze in place, you pulled your airpods out, throwing down your book, not caring that you lost the page you were on. You took in a deep breath and picked up your phone, and just as your thumb hovered over the answer button, the ringing stopped.
He had called you?
You needed a moment to think about what you were going to say to him, what he would say.
You so desperately wanted to hear his voice, it had been a year, and you wondered if that was enough time for feelings to vanish.
You looked out at the calm seas for a moment, did you really want to fall back into a loop of pining for him like a puppy. You loved him, loved, past tense. You were a grown woman now, so you opened your phone and called him back.
Ringing.
“Hello?” his voice echoed through the phone.
“Charles?”
You heard his sigh of relief over the phone, and your heart melted all over again, he hadn't even spoken yet, but the closeness of his presence made it all too real.
“I'm sorry.”
He's sorry?
“Charles-”
“I'm sorry, okay. Arthurs right, I was mean and I was selfish and you deserved so much more than what I did to you. From the bottom of my heart y/n/n, I'm so so incredibly sorry.”
“It's- it's okay.” 
You forgave him.
“It's not.”
There was a silence that lingered for a moment.
“What I said, what you heard, it wasn't supposed to happen like that. I really didn't want it to happen that way.” he pleaded over the phone, his breathy voice echoing through the speaker.
“I want to see you.”
More silence.
“Please, y/n.”
“Okay.”
More silence.
“Soon, okay.” There was promise to your words.
“Soon.” he repeated, as though it was something for him to hold onto. 
Soon.
“When I'm ready Charles I'll come home, I'm just not ready yet.” you winced at your own words because you so desperately wanted to see him too.
“Then don't come home- i'll come to you, i'll catch the next plane if i have too just tell me where you are-”
“Charles, I'm not ready yet.” you interrupted him. 
Silence.
Charles wanted to cry, hearing your voice and knowing you were just within reach he wanted to see you, hold you, apologise as much as you would allow him to. He wanted to kiss you and hug you and love you forever, but you weren't ready.
“I'll wait for you, okay? Soon or not.” his voice cracked, and god did it melt your heart.
“I'll see you soon charlie.”
This was feeling a little too much like a goodbye for charles.
“y/n?”
“Yeah?”
“Am I too late?’
“Time doesn't apply when it comes to you.” and Charles had hope. He hadn't fully let you slip, yet.
Charles would now spend every waking moment wondering how soon was soon?
But after a while he figured ‘soon’ was a little long, three more months to be precise.
You had left Australia, travelled around more like you wanted to, and you came back to Monaco just before the end of the f1 season.
Charles was already in Abu Dhabi by the time you landed back in monaco.You had asked everyone to not tell him of your arrival.
You were sitting with Arthur in his mothers living room, just like the old days. You told him about your travels while he updated you on his love life and gossip in the paddock.
You had missed this.
And it wasn't until pascal passed you a warm cup of tea and sat with the two of you, sharing her own gossip from the hair salon you realised how much you were ready to be home again.
Arthur had run to his room quickly to grab his trophies to show you and as he walked out of the room your eyes lingered on the suitcases by the door.
“You're going to Abu dhabi?” you asked pascal.
“Tomorrow.” she smiled at you.
Pascal could visibly see the gears turning in your head, she placed a hand on your knee and smiled up at you.
“I don't want to pressure you y/n, and i know you just got back but you should consider it.”
You knew what she meant and you nodded at her with a small smile, and Arthur came back.
You went home a few hours later and sat in your room, if you go you'll see him, but you're going to see him at some point regardless. 
You felt vulnerable.
So completely scared, but that didn't stop you from texting Arthur that night telling him you were going to join him and his family tomorrow.
You were going to see him.
Your time was up.
You were ready.
You meet up with the leclerc family at the airport in the early hours of the morning, your suitcase gripped in your hand as you were mentally preparing yourself to sit on the plane and go over any and every possible outcome this weekend could have.
Arthur sat with Carla at the front, and Pascal was fast asleep. But the chair next to you suddenly became occupied when you looked up and saw the eldest leclerc.
“You look well, y/n.” he smiled down at you.
“Thank you.” you smiled back at lorenzo.
“I think the time away did you good, no?”
“yeah, i really needed some space, but now i'm back and just feeling a little..” you stumbled on your words, struggling to describe your emotions.
“Overwhelmed?”
“Yeah, exactly that.”
“Does he know you're coming?” you knew the ‘he’ lorenzo was referring too.
“I dont think so.”
“He's going to be happy to see you.” lorenzo nudged your shoulder.
“I hope so.” you nervously chucked.
You took in a deep breath and looked back at the eldest leclerc brother, “I'm just anxious, I have no idea how this weekend will pan out. The next time I'll be back on this plane going home I could be happy, sad, crying or planning to run away again. I just feel so lost.”
“Lost isn't a bad thing.'' Lorenzo shrugged.
“He's just as lost as you y/n, trust me. I just hope you both figure it out, you both deserve the peace of mind. And if this all goes to shit, you still got on this plane today and tried.”
“I just don't want to get my hopes up.”
“Then don't, sometimes things aren't just meant to be.”
That's what was worrying, you had loved this man for years, and now was the deciding day if he loved you back or not and you don't know if you were ready to give up the fantasy of him
being the love of your life up yet.
You weren't mentally prepared for the shit outcome of this story, you didn't know if you could handle Charles breaking your heart another time.
When the plane landed and the warm air hit your skin you took in a deep breath. Time to face the music.
You went straight to your hotel, it was a Friday so Charles was about to participate in fp1 by the time you turned up to the track.
The smell of burnt rubber and the sound of happy fans filled your ears, you had missed being in the paddock more than you knew. This place was your home.
You were walking with Arthur and Carla when your name was called, judging by the accent you knew it wasn't the monegasque, it was the papaya coloured boy running up to you.
You told Arthur and Carla you would catch up with them as you stopped and smiled at lando who had now reached you. 
“Hey.” he smiled.
“Hey.” you smiled back awkwardly.
“Listen lando, you deserve an explanation-”
“It's okay y/n, we were young, it was a while ago you’re forgiven.” Lando chuckled as he poked your shoulder.
“But that doesn't mean what I did was okay, you deserve more than what I gave you.” 
Lando gave you a sympathetic smile.
“Consider it done with, okay? No hard feelings.”
You smiled up at the British boy, he looked good, he seemed well and that made your guilt feel a little less painful.
“I erm, I have a girlfriend actually, she's great, her names luisa.”
You watched as he lips upturned at the mention of his girlfriend, he was smitten.
“I'm happy for you landini.”
You both laughed for a moment, the free air was nice. Seeing lando meant there was a weight lifted off your shoulders.
“I just wanted to see how you were doing, I didn't want things to be awkward.” he said.
“I don't think I could ever be awkward around you.” Lando smiled at your words.
“Are you still thinking about becoming an F1 journalist?” he asked, remembering how it was your dream, he had also hoped your disappearance in the paddock for the last year wasn't his doing, stopping you from reaching your dream.
You smiled as he remembered, “I'm working on it.”
“Well i hope i see you around more often then, you deserve it y/n, really.”
Lando was getting called from the other end of the paddock as he had to be in his car within the next 10 minutes, you both shared a hug and it felt nice to feel comfortable with him.
His hands squeezed your back before saying a quick bye and skipping down the paddock. 
As he pulled away and walked past, your eyes connected with them all to familiar grey ones you were so nervous to see.
Charles.
He didn't seem too happy though.
He had just watched you smile and laugh with your ex in the middle of the paddock and then hug him bye, even though you thought nothing of it, Charles' mind was spinning.
There he was, a tight lipped smile right opposite you. He had grown out his stubble and he looked tired. You knew he hadn't had the best of seasons with Ferrari, you didn't keep up with it too much, it upset you that his childhood team had failed him massively. 
He nodded his head and followed his press officer in the opposite direction, but you weren't going to let him go just yet.
“Charles, wait!”
And before you could process it you were running, sprinting down the paddock after him, but he had already disappeared into ferrari hospitality.
“Shit.” you mumbled as you jogged down to the garages in hopes of catching up with him.
You scanned your pass and walked into the back of the garage Pascal had walked up to you and grabbed your hand.
“You need to put some headphones on dear, it gets loud in -”
“Pascal, where did he go?” you asked her frantically, like a mad woman out of breath.
“Charles?”
“yes!”
A slight smile just appeared on her face as she turned around, “Be quick dear, I think I can see him putting his balaclava on.” She pushed your shoulder and you walked around the red barrer that clearly said ‘no public entry’.
“You can't be back here, ma'am.” a security officer grabbed the back of your bicep.
“No, I need to get through, it's an emergency.” you whined, pulling your arm from his grip.
“I'm sorry ma’am, it's a safety hazard.” the man's grip tightened on your arm as he pulled you away from the back of the garage. You pushed off him but his grip only improved as he swept you off the floor, lifting you up at your attempt to run. You kicked your legs like a child learning to swim and kicked arms that trapped you.
“If you refuse to cooperate, I'll have no choice but to remove you from the garage.” he said, trying to dodge your feisty little kicks.
“And If you don't get your slimy huge hands off me right now i'm going to-”
“y/n?!”
Your head snapped at the sound of your name, Jorris, Charles' best friend.
“Jorris, oh thank god!”
“She's okay, she can come in.” Jorris grabbed your other hand and wiggled you away from the huge security man's grip as he dropped you back to the floor. You brushed off your dress and gave the security man a dirty look before turning to Charles' best mate.
“Jorris, where is he?” your breathing was rapid and your heart beat feeling like it was thumping out your chest.
“y/n you really shouldn't.” he sent you a sympathetic smile.
“Please.” you pleaded with him. After seeing you try to fight a six foot five security man Joris really didn't want to feel the wrath of you right now, so he complied.
“You have five minutes, follow me.” he led you through the back of the garage.
Whenever Charles got in the car he liked to be left alone to his own devices, it was his switch off time, but you knew on some occasions he didn't mind the company, you just needed to talk to him, tell him you were here for him. You didn't want him getting in the car overthinking that you were here for lando.
And before you knew it, there he was, standing in front of you, you were painting out of breath with your hands on your knees as you looked up at him.
Charles giggled as you held up a finger to let him know you were still getting your breath back. He pulled his ear pieces out of his ear and zipped up the rest of his race suit.
“I hate to rush you, but I have to be in the car in four minutes.” Charles frowned, “and four minutes aren't enough for what I have to say to you, y/n.”
“Let's keep it short and sweet then.” you stood up straight and smiled at the boy.
“Im sor-” he started but you cut him off.
“That's not what I meant by sweet.”
Charles squeezed his eyes and winced at his name being called behind him, he opened his eyes and saw you beaming up at him and he knew he was in love, he just wasn't going to tell you yet, especially not if he had just witnessed you make up with lando. Lando made you happy, Lando didn't break your heart on multiple occasions like he had. Charles wouldn't blame you if you went back to the British driver.
You tilted your head to the left and smiled at Chris, Charles' manager. He was pointing at his watch and tapping his foot.
You looked back at Charles and took in a deep breath, you stood on your tip toes and placed your arms on his shoulders, gently placing a kiss to his cheek.
Your soft lips connecting with his ruff stubble is something Charles cherished, he couldn't wipe the Cheshire cat grin off his face.
“I know it's only a practice session, but good luck out there charlie.”
“Thank you.” he smiled, trying to hide his blush. He couldn't believe he was blushing and how the roles had reversed between the two of you.
“What about lando?” he had to ask, it was on his mind.
“I'm not standing next to Lando wishing him good luck right now, am i?” you smirked at him.
Charles smiled before looking back at his manager, he bent down and kissed your forehead like he had done a thousand times, but this time it felt different, electric, it felt like love. It was love.
“I'll be waiting for you, okay?” you told him.
Charles smiled to himself, he wasn't too late.
If anything was on Charles' side that day it wasnt timing. Charles finished fp2 with a few flying laps and a heavy heart, his first plan was to find you but his press officer had forced him to do interviews, and then he had a meeting and then he had checked his watch and it was way past nine and he knew you were probably back at the hotel by now.
He huffeed as he left his meeting, grabbing his jumper and keys and saying goodbye to the engineers that were going to work on the car overnight.
He had it all planned in his head, he was going to get some flowers on the way home, knock on your hotel door and ask you on a date.
“Charles!” called out his manager, he really hoped he didn't have to stay in this hell hole any longer, he just wanted to leave the track and get his girl.
“What?” he huffed.
“She waited.”
“What?” Charles repeated, his manager now having his full attention. 
Charles caught the way his manager's lips turned into a devilish smirk, but he wasn't looking at Charles, yet something behind him. When he whipped his head around there you were, his heart thumped at the massively oversized ferrari jacket one of the staff must have given you to keep you warm while you waited.
You just smiled at him and waited for him to walk to you, but charles sprinted, he was a man on a mission and when he got to you his hands slipped around your waist, pulling you up in the air for a moment before he dropped you back down, his hands still remaining tightly wrapped around your torso.
He tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear before placing his forehead on yours.
“Take what's yours charlie.” you smiled. 
Charles' thumb gently traced over your plump bottom lip before he placed his hand on your cheek, smiling like an idiot. 
He slowly grazed his lips on your before gently adding pressure and connecting your soft lips with his in a quick kiss. A kiss that was full of smiles as Charles pulled you as close to him as possible. Towering over you as he kissed you unlike he had kissed anyone ever. The way your lips moved in sync with his was magic to him, it had never felt like this before.
He pulled back letting you get some air, before using that as leverage to stick his tongue in your mouth, he put all his power and passion into the kiss and it was just as you imagined him to be with you. Sensual and passionate. 
Your hands ran along his shoulders and up to his head where you gently tucked on his hair. Charles groned on your lips and eventually pulled back, he giggled as he placed his forehead on yours again. 
“All mine, finally.” He said through a wide smile.
“I've always been yours…”
Thank you for reading!! Here’s a gif of baby Charles because this is how i imagined him when y/n had her teenage crush. Bare faced and spiky hair🥹
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babiexiao · 10 months
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HAND HOLDING WITH THE GENSHIN MEN
contains : fem!reader, smut (yeah this is smutty not soft sry not sry <3 lmaooo), mentions of cervix fucking, size kink, tummy bulges, breeding / impregnation kink, creampies woohoo, oooh the praise in this has me going a lil insane tbh, some degradation too, lots of oral, fingering, soft doms *sniffles* my weakness. includes scenarios for zhongli, kaeya, dain, tighnari, xiao and childe. this is not proof read at all, please ignore any mistakes i will not be fixing them cause i'm lazy :D
i thought about this scenario with xiao and then i spiralled from there. sorry not sorry i needed to get this out of my system actually... i am so unwell bye. likes / reblogs are appreciated and feedback is always welcomed <3 minors dni !!
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zhongli : oh he is so big. listen, everythingggggggg about him is big okay, he's literally a dragon like? his hands? big. height? bIG. cock(s)? BIIIIG and he thrives off being big. sinks his cock into you while being in a half dragon form just because his dick is bigger than his human form. golden horns on top of his head, the colour of his skin changing from his normal pale one to somewhat mixed. hues of black, orange, yellow and golden the further you travel down his body. his hands and fingers are slightly longer in this form. nails coloured black, almost resembling claws. he enjoys this form because it lets him keep his human-ness but it also embraces his past. his favourite form when you two get intimate because he wants to see your cunt struggle to take him. "there you go darling, takin' me in so well." he'd whisper as his tip pushes past your entrance, thumb rubbing against your clit. "loosen up for me, that's it." as your cunt begins to flutter around himjdhfhf aaaaa don't even get me started on the bulge he'd make in your tummy :( it's inevitable. he's just so damn big.
favourite position is you on your back, couple of pillows under your body and him holding your waist to raise your lower half off the bed, claws digging into the flesh of your waist as your cunt clenches around his cock. it's only when he's bottomed out and you're bucking your hips to signal him to move that he'd lace his fingers with yours. pins them above your head. have i mentioned zhongli's big? he's so big that he only really requires one hand to have both your wrists in his hold. daddy zhongli is so strong too, doesn't matter how much you move or thrash around when he fucks you, trying to get your wrists out of his hold so you can just touch him, he doesn't budge. waits for you to really beg, tears in your eyes as you sob out "please, please, please" will he soften up. intertwines his fingers with yours as he rocks his hips slower, but sooo deep. leans over to place a kiss to the top of your head while you thank him for letting go, and he does that every time when you two hold hands :( he's so <3 mm yeah best daddy me thinks.
kaeya : this man,, lord kayea is a wild card in my very humble opinion. he's a tease, we all know this. but i think sex to him is so intimate, especially when it's with someone he would give his heart to on a silver platter. he's like the perfect mix of tease and praise and degradation and somehow giving you what you need all at the same time? idk, just listen okay. the word tease might as well just be kaeya's middle name, he's just that good at it. he likes to hear you beg, plays dumb too. "hmm? my sweet little thing, you're so quiet. what did you say, i'm afraid i missed it." all the while he is knuckle deep into your cunt, fingers curling up juuuust right so they nudge your spot. but only just. he knows your body so well it's almost annoying. the curl of his fingers isn't enough to give you proper satisfaction but it is enough to have you crave for more. enough to make you gasp and buck your hips to try and get the satisfaction you need. "ah ah ah, don't be like that. i can't reward you if you're being a needy slut for me darling. use your words." starts withdrawing his fingers and ultimately you need to grab a hold of his wrist and b e g for him not to do that, beg for his touch. it makes his head go a little dizzy if i'm being honest. "there you go. that wasn't so hard now, was it?" and he gives you what you've been needing :( slender, pretty fingers pushing deeper into you till he physically can't anymore. letting them curl against your spongy spot and making you cum with a cry of his name liiike he thrives off teasing you and giving you what you want.
puts his dirty fingers in your mouth while he kisses your stomach, slowly kissing his way up your body (he is a romantic man after all) and makes sure to give your tits a squeeze too. grabs a hold of your chin to make you look at him as you let go of his fingers with a little pop and presses his lips to yours. it's a little messy, slippery and sloppy but you can feel how in love he is with you. spreads your thighs apart so he can press his hard on against your cunt while you kiss, tangles his fingers with yours while he ruts against your centre like he has all the time in the world :(( he takes it sooo slow, grinding against your cunt, the fabric of his boxers rubbing your clit so nicely, his lips against yours, giving your hands a little squeeze as you fiddle around with the elastic on his boxers. he just holds his body weight up with one hand, the other still tangled up with your fingers as you pull down the material just enough to have his cock out and while he fills you up nicely, he just tightens his hold on your hand cause you feel so tight around him every damn time <33
dainsleif : starting this off by saying he is SO touch starved. honorary member of the touched starved crew. he still gets so shy when he sees you naked in front of him no matter how long it's been. dain might look rough and tough on the outside, but he is so soft for you. he adores kisses your body. your lips? he kiss. your cheek? he kiss. top of your head or your nose? he kiss. inside of your wrist where he can get a slight wiff of your perfume? he kiss. but his favourite you may ask? his favourite type (aside from your lips) of kiss is when you're laid out on the bed. where he's between your legs and he's lifting your shirt off, placing kisses along your tummy, the valley of your breasts, then a gentle kiss underneath your earlobe before he's tossing your shirt to the side and making his way down your body again. this time, he places kisses to both your ankles once your pants are off, kissing up both your legs and your thighs. the last kiss he places is to your clit before his thumb presses against your nub, gentle circular motions that already have you seeing stars. dain rests his head against your thigh as he teases and rubs your clit over and over, watching how your hole clenches around nothing.
"always so pretty for me, aren't you?" another soft kiss to your upper thighs that have you wanting to shut your legs at how sensitive you feel. "keep 'em open, that's it. there you go." he'd say, your trembling thighs spreading once again. he's not the best with words of affection but he'll be damned if he doesn't praise you, let you know how pretty you are. how good you are for him. and when your hands clutch his hair and the bedsheets the closer you get to your orgasm, he'd bring the one that was holding the bedsheets closer to his mouth – dain places a kiss to your wrist, to the tips of your fingers before he slides his fingers against it and lets you grip it. he enjoys holding your hand so much while he does this, i cannot stress that enough. he likes it when you feel real. and it's only then, will he place his mouth on your cunt, letting his tongue tease your folds and dipping into your hole to really get a taste of you. feeling a sense of pride when you gasp and whimper out his name, tightening your hold on his hand as the other one still in his hair, buries his face deeper into your pussy.
tighnari : furry king he's so cute, sighs. like kaeya, sex for him is very very intimate with someone he loves. it's not about getting off, it's more so about the gentle touches, the praises that come from both your lips and his, it's about the way you two latch onto each other when you make love and he will die on that hill. yes every now and then, his animalistic urges take over and it is about a quick fuck but more often than not, he likes to explore your body. he loves it when you're straddling him. his favourite thing to do is feel you up while the both of you kiss. even though tighnari takes it slow, his movements almost feel rushed, desperate to have your clothes off. but it's the gentle kind of desperate, you know? where he wants you to be naked so he can appreciate every dip and every curve on your body without any flimsy layers of clothing in the way. hearts in his eyes even though it's the nth time he's seen you naked. you're wearing nothing, seated on his lap while his eyes dart all over your body, never really able to linger on one part for too long. admires how out of breath you are just from a make-out, lips slightly swollen and pinker than usual. continues to place kisses against your jawline to your neck as his hands grope your hips and thighs, eventually one hand inching closer and closer to your heat, a soft sigh escaping your lips as you feel the pad of his thumb finally brush against your clit. "feels good?" he'd mumble against your skin, ears twitching with excitement every time you let out more content noises followed by a soft "yes."
tighnari's good with his fingers, great in fact. he pays attention to your body, listening to every noise and taking mental note of how your body squirms in his hold as he touches you – he's so good that your hands don't really know where they should go. sometimes digging into the skin of his shoulders or his biceps. sometimes when he hasn't riled you up to where the only replies he wets are broken whimpers, they're in tighnari's hair, patting just behind his ears which has him rutting his hips against you, or sometimes they're just tangled in his locks tightly as you need to feel something to ground you. but tighari's favourite is when you plead him for his hand. the little taps against his bicep or wrist make his heart melt, followed by the "hold me, please." it almost makes the animal in him want to manhandle you, toss you on the bed and pin you there while his cock is hitting your cervix and you can't do anything but lay there and just take it. but the rational part of him tells him no. the rational part of him brings your hand to his lips, places a kiss to each and every one of your knuckles before lacing his fingers with yours, all while his other hand is buried knuckle deep in your cunt and being soaked with your juices.
xiao : he is very very very desperate with how he holds your hands. it's more so to remind himself that you're there with him, that you're real. he's a very passionate lover, how could he not be after eons and eons of thinking he's alone? of eons and eons of being alone. he's also a honorary member of the touched starved crew god he is so DJKFDHJGKD i'm so in love w him <333 he just wants to please you okay? like. all the time. every day. whenever you ask him or hint at it, he's ready to give you anything you want. he would do aaaaaanything for you to be honest. he's not very good with words, he knows he's terrible with words. but what he lacks vocally, he makes up for it with his actions instead. slow, but deliberate. almost like he's forgotten all those little stripes and freckles on your skin even though he's been memorising every dip and every mark whenever you two get intimate. gentle, barely there touches while he takes your clothes off, ghosts his fingertips over your pussy and breasts at first. likes it when you inhale sharply but he does give in. he's not much of a tease like kaeya is, gives in so quick. "'m gettin' there. just wait." he'd grumble, but there's no bite behind it all all. places a kiss to your hip bone before he spreads your legs and laps your cunt like a starved man. he's so good with his tongue, i can't stress that enough. another man who makes sure you've came on his tongue or fingers before he thinks about fucking you. the thing about xiao is, he gets pussy drunk so quick, and so very easily. the second he hears you let out a sigh of satisfaction after his mouth is on you, he's gone.
he's soo gone. xiao is an adepti, he's much stronger than humans. it's super easy for him to hold your body down with his hands, whether they be on you waists or even hooked around your thighs, he's not moving his mouth off you until he feels your hole clenching and gushing. or unless you're trying to pry his head off cause you "wan' be filled, please xiao!" flips you onto your back and makes sure your face is pressed into the mattress and your ass is up ohh my goddjghf yeah,, fucks you like that actually, he's pussy drunk. let him bury his cock in your cunt any way he wants plssss. he may not be long, but fuck is he thick. makes you clench the bedsheets while your noises are muffled out by the bed but :( xiao needs to hear you – tugs your back flush against his chest, makes his cock go even deeper in you that you're going dizzy and you're even more dizzier when you feel his fingers on your clit aaaa. firm believer xiao uses one hand too rub your clit while the other turns your head towards him so he can kiss you :(( he loves kissing you so much when you're fucking, tries to kiss you every time before you cum on his cock. it's so romantic for him. feels you cum around his cock and he's trying to hold back a groan but but but that's when he moves his hand that was on your clit to hold yours :( still kissing you too till he orgasms and spills his cum deeep in you and makes out with you for a couple of minutes. doesn't really care how sloppy it is, he just likes kissing you while you hold hands like that :((
childe : listen... childe is actually so romantic (we'll get there soon) i dunno about you. hand holding is his middle name, it's true i've seen the birth certificate. a romantic, mean perv is the best way to describe him. such a tease too. he won't give you what you need till he sees tears in your eyes or you actually start crying. he's kinda mean about it too. gets you sooo close to an orgasm only to just rip it away. "nawww, you cryin sweets?" and proceeds to lick your tears away. "don't cry, you pretty thing. gonna give you what you need, 'kay? just lay back f'me. there you go." smiles darkly when you listen to him again and lay your body flat against the bed again while shaking. and he just keeps doing that until you're full blow sobbing. "aj– ha– 'jax! please.. can' take it a'more... need to c-cum please." and watches you grip his wrists while you cry. it sets him off. he loves that you can get so pathetic for him :( some days when he's made you cry by not letting you cum, his favourite this is having you on top. just to add a little bit more humiliation into the mix. lays down first and gets all comfy without telling you what he's doing and just pats his lap. "not gonna get over here? thought you wanted to cum." has you scrambling over and once you're straddling him he'd put his hands on your thighs and just stroke them since they're shaking so much. but gives them a little slap, just enough for there to be a sound but not enough to hurt when he feels you try to lift your hips to take his cock in "relax baby. didn't i say i'm gonna give you what you need?" hhhh and when your thighs have calmed down and he's made your lips all swollen from kissing you so much will he lift your hips for you, letting you guide his cock into your hole and gives you time to get used to the stretch when he's bottomed out.
while you're taking your time and breathing whilst trying to hold back the orgasm that's approaching once being filled up, he'd let his fingertips trail up your arm, hand cupping the side of your face and rubbing his thumb along your lash line to gather the tears that haven't fallen yet and makes you suck the saltiness away from his thumb... and that makes his cock twitch in you. doesn't let you move though, wants to see how ruined you look before he's even fucked you right. and once he's admired you enough he'd go "c'mere sweets." and proceeds to hold out his hand for you. coos at how your hand is sooo tiny in his though. and he lets his other arm wrap your lower back, essentially he has you resting your head against his tits while you two hold hands. it's gentle, a contrast to how he was being mean to you earlier. as you grind on his cock and the little tufts of hair on his lower tummy make you cum around his cock, he brings your intertwined hands to his mouth and places a kiss to the back of your hand and bucks his hips up into your pussy to get to his high. but the thing is, once ajax feels soft like this, he'd just keep you above him, kiss you and keep holding your hands till he's hard again and fuck you till your lower halves are all messy and sticky.
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samsno1 · 4 months
Text
One Hell Of An Agent
Sam Winchester x F!Reader
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Summary: After weird deaths start happening and your friend becomes a victim of it, two men appear at your door for questioning and your day turns into the weirdest you've ever lived.
Warnings: SMUT, size kink (if you squint), oral (f. recieving), big d sam (obviously), dean gets forgotten lmao, unprotected sex (wrap it up guys), piv, tit sucking, sam is a sweetheart, pet names (doll, baby, beautiful), a bit of body insecurity but, as i said, sam is a gentleman, reader is shorter and overall smaller then sam, use of y/n, NOT PROOF READ, english isn't my first language (if i forgot anything TELL ME)
Read it on AO3
WC: 6.1k
You can learn how to change the "Y/N" for your actual name here
enjoy your meal babies, mwah mwah
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It was supposed to be just another day where you went to work to get pennies in exchange for spending close to 12 hours in front of a computer screen, get back home to drink until you decided you should take a shower and sleep. Then repeat.
You, standing in your living room with a circle of kitchen salt around you and two men who were supposedly FBI agents holding shotguns and the ghost of an old woman trying to kill you, wasn't in your plans.
They both had arrived at your house in suits earlier that day, knocking on your door. You groaned and got up from the couch, leaving your beer bottle settled on the coffee table. Once you opened the door you widened your eyes at the two men standing there.
The taller one greeted himself first. He had a – almost – shoulder length brown hair and beautiful hazel eyes. To say you were shocked at how handsome he looked was an understatement. The shorter one had deep green eyes and short hair, he was pretty too but his partner…
“Hello, I'm Agent Page, this is my partner, Agent Plant” He said, showing you his badge and nodding to Plant, him copying what his partner did.
You furrowed your eyebrows, recognizing the names from the Led Zeppelin band.
“Plant and Page as in…the Led Zeppelin guys?” You questioned and they shared a look. The shorter one stepped foward, giving you a once over, clearly checking you out.
“Just a coincidence Ma'am” He said, smiling at you and you nodded, still a bit skeptical.
You opened the door wider for them both to get in.
“Come in, please. Have a seat” You said, gesturing to the couch and they sat besides each other. Page eyed the beer at the coffee table in front of him and you cringed.
“Sorry, I wasn't expecting the FBI at my door” You chuckled lightly and took the beer bottle to the kitchen in the other room. When you came back, both their eyes were on you and you felt a bit intimidated.
“Well…why are the feds at my house…?” You asked, sitting at the armchair and resting your hands on your lap, fidgeting nervously with your fingers.
Page put his elbows on his knees, his fingers crossing in front of him as he leaned forward to talk closer to you. You took notice of his big frame wondering how someone could be so…wide?
“Miss…”
“Y/N” You filled in the gap.
“Miss Y/N” He said, licking his lower lip with his tongue “We are here to ask about the recent murders around”
“Oh” You said. You knew well about one of the victims, a friend of yours. It had been a little over 2 weeks since her death but you always went with the mantra to keep going no matter what. At the memory of her you felt your throat restrict and you blinked back tears.
Page seemed to notice and put a gentle hand on your knee to comfort you. When you looked up he was smiling slightly and you calmed down.
“We know Beth was your friend and we are sorry for your loss” He said, squeezing your knee “But we'd like to ask you some questions, if you don't mind”
You nodded and looked between the both of them, taking a deep breath.
“Yeah…yeah of course” You said and he nodded, pulling his hand away from you, the warmth still lingering where he had placed it.
“Did you notice any weird behaviors before your friend passed? Like she was distant, cold…?” Plant asked and you made a face trying to remember anything. You recorded a night you two went out
“Five days or so before she died…” You started, turning your head down to stare at your fingers over your lap. “We went to a bar near my house and she kept glancing behind her, nervous, on edge, as if something would jump her at any moment. When I asked her what was wrong she looked at me, terrified, grabbed her things and bolted”
You sighed thinking you should've went with her now that she was gone.
“I tried calling, texting. Nothing. For those five days I didn't hear anything from her then…they called me announcing that she was gone” You started tearing up again and closed your eyes to hold them back.
“She didn't have anyone else, y'know, I should've been there for her, I–” You choked on an inevitable sob and covered your face with your hands. Then you felt the taller man's hand on your knee again, his thumb stroking your leg.
“We are truly sorry, it wasn't your fault” He said, a voice so comforting and calm you felt it in your heart.
You took your hands away from your face and sniffed, letting out a slight chuckle. You felt a bit embarrassed to be crying in front of them both.
“I'm sorry” You said and brushed your hair back with your hand “I think this was it. She was always a very quiet girl but sweet, caring, I couldn't think of anyone that would do this to her”
The men nodded and looked at each other, a silent conversation you weren't a part of. You looked down to see Page's hand still on your knee and you smiled to yourself. What a nice fed.
"Thanks for the information Ma'am" Page said. When they looked back at you, he patted your knee lightly and got up with his partner. You stood up as well to accompany them to the door, them both behind you.
You opened the door and looked at them both going out, your gaze lingering longer on the taller one, looking him up and down.
They turned to you with a tiny card in his hand and gave it to you, your finger brushing against his.
“If you remember anything, give us a call. Thank you for your time” He smiled warmly along with the green eyed Agent.
“Will do, thank you so much” You said, smiling back seeing them walk away to the Impala parked in front of your house.
You kept your gaze locked until they drove away, snapping you out of your daze getting back in your house and locked the door, smiling like an idiot at the image of the handsome guy you just met.
Inside the Impala, Dean kept glancing towards Sam, who had his face buried into the newpaper about the couple murders happening.
“Dude” Dean finally said, a grin on his face. Sam looked up at him and made a questioning face at his side profile.
“What?” He asked
Dean laughed lightly and looked at his brother.
“She was eating you with her eyes” Dean said and at that Sam's full attention was on him, lowering the paper with a confused face.
“Who? Y/N?” He asked and Dean nodded. Sam sighed and rolled his eyes at his brother. “Dean, c'mon” He said.
“I'm serious, the look she gave you when we left, staring you up and down like a feast” Dean laughed mischievously, looking for a couple seconds at Sam's shocked expression. “She's pretty, y'know, if you don't want it, I'll have it”
“Shut up Dean” He said but he couldn't help thinking about your looks towards him and the impulse he felt to comfort you with a hand on your leg when he realized you were upset.
Dean laughed and shook his head at the stubbornness of his brother, driving back to the cheap motel they were staying at.
Your day went by as usual, some couple more beers here, a whiskey there, some movie you had on the TV.
You ended up falling asleep on the couch for a couple hours until about 2AM when you heard a loud thud in your house and your entire body entered fight or flight mode.
You got up and kept your ears trained for any more sounds until you heard your stove, the gas being poured out in your house and the color drained from your face. What the hell?
You went into the kitchen and for sure the smell of the gas hit hard on your nose and you gagged.
Suddenly the door to the kitchen closed behind you and you jumped in shock. Your heart started ringing in your ears and your hands were trembling.
“Hello?! Is anybody there?!” You asked, your voice shaking as you went to the door. Locked. You started to panic, were you crazy? Was this a dream?
There was a noise behind you and you turned, seeing the knife cabinet open and you glued yourself to the door, trying to get the lock open when a kitchen knife started to float up and towards you.
You screamed and banged at the door.
“Help! Someone, please!” You screamed and the knife was plunged in the door, close to your head and your body fell back in the ground, tears rolling down your cheeks when everything stopped.
You slowly got up and tried to open the door. Success. You scrambled out of your kitchen and unlocked the front door, sprinting out of your house terrified.
You remembered the card the Agent gave you. You didn't know if it was okay to call him this late but you just almost died. You thought he could make an exception.
With trembling fingers, you dialed the number on your phone, putting it to your ear. Please pick up, please pick up.
“Hello? Agent Page speaking, who is this?” He said with a gruff voice, he was definitely sleeping and you felt a bit bad for waking him up.
“Agent?” You practically whispered, your voice shaky with fear.
“Y/N?” He recognized your voice and made a confused face, sitting up on the bed. “What's wrong?”
“I– I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't have called I–” You spoke fast, nervous. He took notice of that “Something happened” You said simply.
“We are on our way” He said and slipped on his shoes, already on outside clothes. He nudged Dean to wake him up. “Hang in there”
“Okay” You said in a whisper as he turned the call off, biting your thumbnail in order to stay calm in the circumstances.
Dean woke up to see Sam getting his bag ready in a frenze, a worried look in his younger brother's face.
“Y/N called, something happened, she seemed stressed, let's go” He said, throwing Dean his bag, the oldest groaning as he grabbed the keys for the Impala.
As they drove there, Sam couldn't help but get even more stressed the long it took for them to arrive. He wondered if you were okay, if you had gotten hurt, or worse. When they arrived, you were sitting on your porch, legs tucked close to your body as you shivered.
When you heard the noise of the car you got up. The two came out and you were a bit weirded out to see them in normal clothes but relieved nonetheless.
When they got closer you breathed out in relief, the taller of the two coming closer then Plant, grabbing your shoulders and eyeing you up and down, looking for any visible damage.
“Are you hurt? What happened?” He asked and you shook your head at the first question.
“I don't know…If I explain it I'll sound crazy” You said
“Oh, sweetheart, believe me, we know crazy” The green eyed Agent said and you looked at him, the nickname foreign but you brushed it off.
“I was sleeping in my couch when I woke up with a loud bang” You began. “I got up to see that my stove started leaking gas and…when I wnt to the kitchen, the door…It shut behind me, locked” You said, shakily and Page brushed his hand on your shoulder, the same way he had done to your knee earlier “I couldn't get out and a knife started to fucking float, it charged at me, caught the door and then it all just…stopped”
“I was able to leave my house and…call you” She said and looked into his eyes, the comforting gaze seeping into her. “I'm sorry, I know it's late”
“Don't bother, it's fine. Let's try and see how we can help you, okay?” He said
You looked at him, puzzled, tilting your head at him
“You believe me?” You asked and he let out an aired laugh in amusement.
“What if I tell you we aren't truly FBI agents” He said.
“Oh” You widened your eyes and looked between the both of them, shameful smiles on their faces. “Right”
“Get in, we will explain everything we can to you” He said and you nodded getting inside your house.
After a couple minutes you learned that they were actually brothers, the tall one was named Sam and the shorter was Dean. They told you all about what they did, the family business, how real the supernatural was and tried to explain that you experienced something ghost-like.
You were absolutely dumbfounded as they said all that. It was hard to believe that, how is all of it real if you hadn't seen anything your whole life similar to what they explained to you? Just now?
“Okay so…you both are like…the Ghostbusters?” But hotter. You noted, mentally.
“Basically, yeah” Dean said.
You sat there with your hands over your face. You didn't know if you wanted to laugh or cry at the situation.
The brothers walked around with the so called EMFs, machines you learned could sense the presence of ghosts.
You couldn't help but glance at Sam. His eyebrows were furrowed in concentration, his hair falling around his face and from time to time he bit his lower lip.
You were entranced at how annoyingly handsome he was until loud beeping from Dean's EMF startled you.
Sam whooped his head towards him and they shared silent looks. Sam turned to his bag and got a shotgun out and you widened your eyes at him. He took notice of that.
“They are loaded with rock salt, don't worry” He said and you made a confused face. He smiled at you and your heart skipped a beat. “Let's say…ghosts don't like salt. Salt and iron are their weaknesses” He said and you hummed in acknowledgement getting up and going to your fireplace to get an iron rod.
Sam stared at you as you walked back to him and you shrugged.
“It's iron, you said it could keep them at bay” You said and he nodded.
A loud noise startled all of you, in the kitchen, where Dean was the closest to and he cooked his gun, Sam doing the same and protecting you with his body.
“Stay behind me” He murmured to you and you nodded, iron rod in your hand prepared for any attack.
“Come on you son of a bitch!” Dean said and, as if on cue, the ghost of an old lady appeared in your kitchen and you gasped, recognizing her immediately.
“Mrs. Greene?” You whispered and apparently she heard you because in a moment she was there and in the other she was behind you.
“Y/N, watch out!” Sam yelled in front of you and you turned around, swinging your weapon and making her vanish for a couple of moments.
You were breathing heavily, your ears ringing until Sam snapped you out of your daze, turning you around by grabbing at your arm.
“Are you okay?” He asked, concern laced in his voice as he gave you a once over.
“Yeah, I think” You replied and Dean appeared as quick as possible making a circle of salt around you and Sam stepped out of it, letting your arm go.
“You need to stay there, she can't get you because of the salt” Dean said.
“You know her?” Sam asked and you looked at him, nodding.
“She was Beth's mother. Died in a car accident that…my father caused. Me and Beth bonded through their deaths but I guess her mom didn't really approve of that” You said, smiling sadly to yourself.
“Where is she buried?” Dean questioned.
“The cemetery near the only church in town. About 5 miles from here” You replied and Dean gave Sam a quick nod as he got his bag and gave his brother extra ammunition.
“I'll go do the dirty job, you, protect her, make sure that bitch doesn't kill her” Dean said as he went out the door, shutting it behind him.
You sat on the ground, in the middle of the salt circle, mindlessly playing with the iron rod in your hand. Sam looked down at you. You looked more than upset, understandably.
“Everything is going to be okay” He reassured you and you looked at him with a gentle smile. Until you weren't smiling anymore and instead was looking behind him.
“Sam, behind you!” You said, getting up again and he turned shooting the ghost and she reappeared behind you, outside of the circle.
You turned around, shaking and lifting your weapon at her. She looked down at the salt circle and the creepiest smile you've ever seen opens up in her face, sending shivers down your spine.
Suddenly the windows broke open and a strong gust of wind came in with full force. You covered your head to protect it from the glass until you looked down and the salt circle was broken around you.
Your heart dropped as she started approaching you and Sam shot her again from behind you.
To your dismay, she was behind him again, and before you could warn him about her she grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and threw him against a wall.
“Sam!” You screamed and she turned to you again, slowly walking towards your frame and you backed away, the iron rod propped in front of you protectively.
She knocked the rod out of your hand and you looked desperately at it on the ground.
Your back pressed against the wall and you closed your eyes, preparing for your death when she started screaming and you opened your eyes.
She was quite literally burning right in front of you, with her hands reaching for your throat until she was just gone, no burn marks on your ground, weirdly, and her desperation echoed through the house.
You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding, your heart beating in your ears. You heard a groan and remembered Sam was basically knocked out on the other side of the room.
You rushed to him and kneeled down besides him with a hand on his cheek and the other in one of his knee.
“Sam, are you okay?” You asked as he slowly opened his eyes. When he seemed to retrieve consciousness again he breathed in deeply and scrambled to get up but you held him down by putting a hand on his chest.
“Hey, hey, it's okay, she's…gone, I guess” You said and he focused his eyes on yours when you smiled. You felt your face heat up at the look he was giving you until Dean barged in through the front door, whistling at the mess.
He looked towards both of you on the ground and made a face, holding back a smirk.
“Burned her up…Am I interrupting something?” Dean asked playfully and you felt a tad of embarrassment, helping Sam get up with a grunt.
They started to gather their stuff and you wondered how the hell you were going to clean up your whole house. Glass and salt everywhere, a hole on the wall where Sam was thrown at.
When they were all done you got each a beer. They tried to deny it but you insisted, claiming it was a thank you treat for saving your life.
You finished all your drinks, throwing the bottles away and you walked them to the door, the Impala parked in front of your house. They got out and stood outside as you smiled at them.
“Thank you, again, really, you both saved my life” You said.
“It's nothing, really, we do this everyday” Dean said with a dismissive wave. “I'm going to load the car” Dean said, giving Sam a pat on the back and a look you didn't understand but apparently Sam did, since he gave a deep breath and a practically death glare at his brother, his chest going up and down.
“So…” He started, scratching the back of his head awkwardly.
“So?” You nudged, smiling up at him and biting your lower lip. His eyes stared at your mouth and you felt small under his gaze.
“You were amazing back there, you know?” He said, crossing his arms in front of him and smiling. “You knew what to do, few people can do what you did”
He complimented and you looked down, smiling like an idiot. He’s so sweet.
“Oh I just…went by logic I guess, nothing much. You said iron and I reached for iron” You said, fidgeting with your fingers as you looked up again.
“Yeah…” He said, looking from your eyes to your mouth and back up again. You decided to be a bit brave and got into your tiptoes to give him a kiss on the cheek, holding on his shoulder for support.
When you pulled back he didn't pull away and one of his hands cupped your cheek, looking between your eyes when he leaned into you, his lips against yours in a light kiss.
You responded almost immediately, your hand going to the back of his neck to deepen the kiss and he placed his hands on your waist. You reluctantly pulled away with a hum, dazed by the kiss with your eyes still closed.
When you opened them his eyes were on your face and you felt warm again. He pulled you back in your house and you giggled in surprise when he closed the door, his hand still holding you.
“What about your brother?” You said as he turned his attention back to you, a smirk on his face when he squeezed your waist. He leaned in closer and you held your breath.
“He can wait” He whispered against your lips before kissing you again, this time more intensely then before and you hummed, burying your hand on his hair while the other stroked his chest.
You started taking his jacket off when you stopped and pulled away.
“Is this okay? I mean I'm totally fin–” He cut you off with another mind blowing kiss and you gasped.
He shrugged off his jacket, dropping it to the ground and clasping your face in both his hands.
“Does this answer your question?” He smiled teasingly and you chuckled, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down to kiss his lips again and his hands grabbed your hips in response.
He brushed his tongue against your lower lip and you opened your mouth to let him explore it, moaning lowly against his mouth.
He lowered his hands to the back of your thighs, not breaking the kiss, and lifted you up, wrapping your legs around his waist and you yelped in his mouth.
You noted he was big, you just didn't know he was this strong, lifting you in his arms as if you weighed nothing.
He walked to the kitchen and placed you on the counter, his hands going under your shirt and experimenting with his touches on your bare skin.
You whimpered, shivers running through your whole body as his big hands roamed through your burning skin.
You pulled away, your forehead touching his, a whispered “Fuck” coming out of your lips. Your hands went to the hem of your shirt and slowly pulled it over your head, leaving your torso bare besides your bra.
Sam drank you in, his adam apple bobbing when he swallowed and you felt embarrassed under his strong gaze, your hands slowly coming to wrap themselves around your stomach.
He held your wrists gently, pulling them away from you and his hands went up and down your arms.
“Don't hide from me, you're beautiful” He whispered and started to leave kisses down your neck, nibbling and biting where he noticed you liked the best with the noises leaving your mouth.
Your hand wrapped in his hair to pull him back to your lips, his kisses addicting like a drug.
He pulled away again to pull his shirt over his head, revealing his defined torso and your jaw physically dropped at the sight. He had some scars, some pale, old, others a pink tone, more recent but it just made him look even better, showing how much he had lived through. He chuckled at your reaction and settled his hands on your hips again, gently squeezing.
“See something you like?” He teased and you closed your mouth, your hands reaching slowly to touch his bare chest. He gasped at your feather-like touch on his tanned skin and you looked at him again, his eyes dark with desire.
“You're…stunning, like– I knew you were…muscular…from the get go but you're…” You trailed off and he chuckled, a bit embarrassed and leaned down to crash his lips against yours again.
His hands went to your back and unclasped your bra, helping you take it off and toss it on the ground along with the rest of your clothes.
His hands came to the front and grabbed at both your breasts, squeezing them and making you moan into his mouth. His fingers teased at your hardened nipples and you arched into his touch.
His mouth started trailing down towards your neck, your collarbone, until he got to the valley of your breasts and looked up at you. Your mouth was open, eyes hazed and deep breaths were making your chest go up and down. What a sight.
He closed his mouth into one of your nipples and you whined, the warmth of his tongue circling around it making you grasp at his locks with a certain strength that made him groan around your skin. His fingers teased the other breast until he switched sides, feasting on your breasts.
“Sam…” You gasped his name and he hummed in acknowledgement of your plea, pulling away from your breast with a smile. “Please”
He gave your lips a peck and went down your body again, leaving open mouthed kisses down your stomach until he got to the waistband of your jeans and looked at you again, asking for permission and you nodded at him.
His fingers popped open the button of your pants and opened the zipper. You lifted your hips to help him pull the clothing off and he dragged it down your legs slowly, drinking you in.
You felt a shiver run down your spine at his hungry gaze on your frame when his eyes noticed your soaked underwear.
He discarded your pants and ran his hands up your legs, his look never leaving your covered pussy. His hands stopped at your thighs as squeezed the flesh and you closed your legs instinctively.
He looked up at you and pried your legs open with his hands.
“What did I say about hiding from me?” He said, his tone deep and dominant making you swallow a whine as you spread your legs wider and he settled between them with a smirk.
He kissed your covered sex and you let out a low moan, his mouth traveled to your inner thighs, biting and kissing at the flesh, driving you insane.
“Please…” You begged, grabbing at his hair and he hummed.
“So desperate” He said against your skin, grasping your panties and pulling them down. You gasped at the cold air hitting your dripping core and he groaned at the sight.
He cupped your whole cunt with his hand, making your hips buck up into his touch and a low moan left your throat.
“Beautiful” He whispered and gave your thigh one last kiss. “Tell me if it's too much, okay?” He said and your heart melted.
“Okay” You breathed out and he smiled up at you. He took his hand away and you almost frowned when his lips wrapped around your clit and you moaned, bucking your hips against his mouth.
He smirked against you and put one hand over your hips to hold you still as he did wonders against your cunt. His tongue eating you out as if you were his last meal, ripping loud moans from your throat.
“Oh, fuck” You moaned, pulling at his hair “Sam– God” He hummed and groaned against your pussy sending jolts of pleasure through you.
He teased your hole with his finger, slowly entering you and stretching you out, hooking up and rubbing right at that spot and you moaned loudly.
“Jesus, fuck, right there– Shit” A string of curses left your mouth and he grinned proudly, adding another finger to your torture, making you cry out, his name slipping out of your lips.
You felt the knot inside of you tighten, your pussy clenching around his fingers and Sam knew you were about to cum.
“Cum for me, doll” He said and quickened his movements against you and your moans got louder.
“Fuck!” You groaned loudly as you finally came against his lips, your orgasm hitting you like a truck, your eyes closing in bliss, your fingers tightening in Sam's hair.
He helped you ride your orgams until the stimulation got almost painful and you started to try and close your legs.
“T'much, Sam–” You moaned and he pulled away, your juices shining against his face as he got up from his knees and grasped your waist tightly, smashing his lips against you, the foreign taste of yourself lingering on his tongue as he attacked your mouth.
“Taste as sweet as you look” He praises and you smirked.
You glance down at his still covered legs and crotch, the tent in his pants looked almost painful and you bit your lip. He noticed that and took you in his arms again, wrapping your legs around his hips, making your sensitive core grind against his jeans and you whined.
“As much as I'd like to bend you over that table and fuck you senseless” He said, getting closer to your ear and whispering: “I want to fuck you on a bed to see your cockdrunk face when I make you cum”
You shivered, not expecting these words coming out of his mouth and you attacked his neck with kisses and bites.
“My bedroom is down the hall, on the right” You mumbled against his skin, breathless, and he carried you to the room, his hands squeezing and digging in your ass as you continued marking his skin.
He gently placed you on the bed, kissing your lips hungrily and you led one of your hands down to his crotch, palming him through his jeans and he pulled away from your lips to groan, his forehead against yours.
“Fuck me, Sam” You breathed out and he kissed you one last time before standing up and unbuckling his belt and opening his zipper, dropping his pants to the ground and taking off his shoes.
You were staring, eating him with your eyes as he took off his boxers teasingly slow, stepping out of them and looking at your face for a reaction.
Your mouth watered and your pussy clenched around nothing. He was big. You expected him to be large, he was tall after all but you still were very shocked and wondered if you'd be able to take it all.
Sam seemed to notice your worries and grasped your chin to give your lips a comforting kiss. He wasn't cocky but he was aware of his size and knew it could be intimidating.
“We'll go slow, baby, if you want to stop, just say” He assured you and you felt all fuzzy and warm on the inside. It was hard to find men that actually cared and it seemed like you hit the jackpot with Sam. You nodded and he crawled over you, smashing your lips against his again.
He rubbed his cock up and down a couple times and lined it up with your entrance making you whine in anticipation. He slowly pushed into you and you pulled away to let your mouth hang open in a soundless moan.
Sam made sure to distract you from the pain, rubbing your thighs up and down and kissing your neck and collarbones. It took everything inside him to not pound into you. You tightened around him deliciously and he pressed his forehead against your shoulder.
“You feel so fucking good Y/N, God” He whisper-moaned against your ear and you hummed, your nails digging into his shoulders, definetly leaving marks to remind him for a couple days of this encounter.
“I feel so full, it feels so good” You moaned breathy as he was almost all the way inside you, his kisses soothing your hot skin, his fingernails marking your hips as he held back to let you adjust to his size once he was all the way inside.
You felt him in your throat and it took you a couple of moments to let the pain turn into pleasure and Sam was willing to wait as long as you needed.
When you finally stopped feeling the pain of the stretch you wiggled your hips against his cock and grabbed his cheek to give him a messy kiss.
“You can move, please” You said and he pulled back and forth, both of you moaning at the feeling, his dick hitting deeper than you thought was possible.
“Y/N” Sam moans against your shoulder, his strokes inside you making his whole body tremble with the tightness. His hand roams down your body until it reaches your lower stomach. He presses his hand down against your skin and you moan loudly. He grins, his breathing heavy as his hair makes a curtain around his face.
“Oh– fucking God!” You practically scream, your eyes rolling back as your nails scratch at his shoulder. He felt impossibly deeper and he quickened his thrusts, your whole body going limp and your mouth letting out incoherent babbles and moans of his name.
He was panting as he held himself up in his elbows to look at your fucked out face, kissing your cheeks and your lower lip.
“You look so pretty like this” He said against your skin as he kept his thrusts steady and deep. "I told you I wanted to look at your pretty face...when you came undone under me."
You felt your skin tingle, your body trembling and that familiar feeling on the pit of your stomach like a fire lighting up.
"The looks you were giving me..." He groaned against your skin, his hips sttutering as his orgasm came closer "I wanted to make those beautiful eyes roll back the moment I saw you" He admitted, giving your neck a harsh bite, definetly leaving a mark.
“Sam!” You moaned out, your hand tangling itself into his hair. “I'm cumming” You warned and he quickened his pace and your head shot back, exposing your throat to him.
“Cum for me beautiful” He said, leaving a hickey just below your jaw.
You unraveled below him with a loud moan of his name, your heels digging into his ass. A few more thrusts and Sam pulled out, stroking his cock one, two, three times until he came over your stomach, groaning and panting your name.
You looked at his face, sweat sticking some hairs on his face, his eyes closed, mouth agape and his hair a mess thanks to your hands.
You smiled in a daze and traced your fingers over his face and he opened his eyes, catching you already looking back at him. He leaned down and kissed you passionately for a couple seconds until he pulled away and stood up to go to your bathroom.
He came back with a wet towel to clean you up, gentle in your sensitive sex then he left the towel on the bathroom sink and layed down on the bed beside you again, pulling you into his chest and kissing the crown of your head.
You hummed as he wrapped his arms around you, massaging your sore muscles.
“That was…” You said, not finishing. No words were able to describe what you felt.
“Yeah, it was” He confirmed, smiling.
You snuggled into his chest, your hand tracing mindless patterns against his skin. Then you started to chuckle and he looked down at you.
“What?” He said with a hint of a laugh behind his tone.
“Your brother must be pissed” You said between laughs and he started to laugh too, feeling his chest vibrating against your cheek as his hand stroked your upper arm.
“I don't care, this, you, was worth it” He said and you looked up at him with a shy smile, not knowing what else to say.
After a while of silence between the two of you you started to think a bit.
“You're leaving town soon, right?” You asked and he hummed an affirmation. You hid your frown from him. “You're welcome back anytime, you know that, right?"
You said but didn't look at his face when you felt him looking down at you and he squeezed your arm as if to say I know.
You started to fall asleep against his steady breathing, your eyes heavy.
As you were almost sleeping you felt him leave a kiss on your forehead.
“I will” He whispered and you smiled to yourself, letting yourself fall asleep in his embrace.
A/N: Notes and reblogs encourage me to keep writing. Feedback makes those writings better. Thank you for reading. Xoxo
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satoruwiki · 3 months
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Hi, I read your recent post with the lollipop and I loved it so much!
Idk if you take requests but can you write gojo with lactation kink?
┊🍼꒱ SHARING IS CARING ! ꒱꒱ꮺ
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MINORS FOR THE LOVE OF GOD DNI!!
content: nsfw; smut; afab!reader; fem!reader; porn with a sprinkle of plot; lactation kink; dad!gojo; p in v sex; unprotected sex (oops); breeding kink (if you squint); creampie
w.c: 1k
n/a: broooo when I tell you this was a challenge for me to write, i hope i did good tho. no proof read bc im too lazy to do so, satoru the typa man to fuck a baby into you so he can have access to ur titties full of milk ^^ english isn’t my first language and im still a rookie at writing so bear with me please! any feedback/request/interaction supporting this post is very much appreciated <3
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At first, it was curiosity.
"What're you doing?" You asked, crossed arms over your chest and brows knitted together in confusion. Satoru looked at you and then back at the small bottle with white liquid he was holding. "I just wanna give it a taste," he said, taking a small sip. The flavour setting on his tongue, his eyes widened, brows perking up in amazement at the taste. 'Sweet,' he thought.
Then, he made up excuses.
"You can't drink that! That's my breast milk, 'toru!" You chastised, snatching the glass from his hands. Satoru rubbed the back of his neck, feigning embarrassment. "Shit, I'm sorry, baby. I thought it was regular milk," he muttered, pouting like a child getting his toy taken away.
The truth is, Satoru had gained a liking for your breast milk. No, he was obsessed with it. Whenever you breastfed your baby, Satoru would unconsciously lick his lips, and his mouth watered for some of your milk. Of course, he knew you'd say no if he ever asked you for a drink from it. "It's your child's food, Satoru. Not yours," you'd say, as if he didn't know that already.
Sometimes, you would wake up with Satoru under your shirt, his head nestled on your chest with one of your breasts in his mouth, milk dripping from it. When you confronted him about it, Satoru always feigned innocence: "Sorry, I don't know how it got there, I just wanted to cuddle with you."
Satoru knew his excuses wouldn't last long, so for him, it was better to come out clean before you found out first.
"Right there! Right there! 'toru, fuckk," you panted, digging your nails into his back muscles. The bed squeaked as Satoru drilled his cock into you; tears were brimming from your eyes. "You like this, baby?" he huffed, his cock stroking deeper into your pussy after you tilted your pelvis, his tip kissing your cervix so deliciously it had your mind clouded.
Although Satoru was close to his orgasm, there was one thing he was fixed on, aside from giving you the most pleasure and having you cum first: the droplets of milk dripping out of your perky nipple as you fondled one of your tits. 
Satoru opened his mouth, his tongue lolling out and panting like a dog in heat, and cupped your tit—latching his lips onto it. His thrusts slowed down as his mouth sucked on your sensitive nipple, drinking the liquid spurting out of it.
His tongue swirled and flicked against the pebbled flesh, pulling wanton moans out of you. "G-gentle there," you mewled, running your fingers through his soft hair while his teeth grazed on your nipple. You would've usually tried to stop him from stealing your baby's food, but you were too overwhelmed and loving too much what he was doing to you to care.
"Fuck, you taste so good. So fucking delicious," Satoru groaned, his cock twitching inside you as he nipped at the soft flesh of your tits, leaving faint marks on them, the vibrations of his voice sending your nerves on fire. "Could never get tired of this, gonna suck you dry," he huffs, his tongue lapping and picking up the droplets of milk running down the swell of your breasts.
You wrapped your legs around him, yearning to feel him closer. "I'm close, 'toru," you whined, your nails grazing on his nape and your hips grinding to meet his thrusts.
"I know, baby. I know," he cooed, his hand giving gentle caresses to your tits and dropping soft kisses on your neck, your throbbing cunt clenching and squeezing him so good. "Hold a little longer for me, yeah?" he said, pulling you closer for a kiss and dipping his tongue past your lips. You moaned into the kiss, your hands trailing up to wipe the sweat off his forehead that damped his bangs.
The thought of getting you pregnant again had crossed Satoru's mind for a while; he wanted to keep your tits full of milk for as long as he could. Besides, he could afford to have as many kids as he wanted—he never saw himself as a dad of an only child anyway. "Shit, I want your womb so full of my cum, fuck a baby inside you again," Satoru hissed, pistoning his cock in and out of your sloppy cunt. "Have your tits full of milk f'me," he murmured, attaching his mouth back to your boobs, coating them in drool.
You weren't sure if he really meant his words or if he had uttered them out of horniness, but you babbled, "fuck yes, make me a mom again, please."
Satoru took your words to heart and set a goal to get you pregnant again, jackhammering into your cunt with newfound strength, whispering how hot you were going to look with your swollen belly. He was determined to stuff you full of his cum as many times as necessary to ensure that you'd bear a child of his again. 
You found yourself gasping for air at his brutal pace, mouth agape; you could feel his thrusts up to your throat. Satoru's pupils were blown out of lust, and he huffed and moaned quietly at each snap of his hips against yours, absolutely enraptured into fucking you silly.
Your whines and calls for his name grew pitchier by the second—unable to hold your orgasm back anymore, your walls fluttered and you gushed all over his cock. Your knees buckled, and aftershocks flowed through you as you came undone from your release.
'You look so fucking cute cumming all over my cock,' Satoru thought, staring at your tear-stained face contorting in pleasure. He threw his head back in pleasure, your pussy greedily sucking him back at each thrust, and he spilled himself inside you, thick ropes of warm cum flooding your pretty cunny, and you moaned, feeling your insides stuffed.
The tangy smell of sex lingered in the room, your gasps being the only sounds in the room as you came down from your high. 
Minutes later, as if on command, your child's cries for food were heard from his crib. Satoru pulled out of you, his seed already seeping out from you, which he did not let go to waste and pushed back in inside your hole with two fingers, making you whine at the intrusion. "Don't worry," he said, "we'll give him formula."
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Text
Sequel to Good People - The fic in wherein Wayne doesn't like Steve and overheard a conversation he shouldn't have. Here's the aftermath of that :3
Part One🦇Part Two🦇Final Part
-
Wayne had stayed in his bedroom long after he heard the boys leave. Eddie had knocked on his door to let him know he'd be staying at Steve's and to not expect him back until late tomorrow, a courtesy he'd never shown until after he'd been the victim of a manhunt back in spring. Wayne never asked him to do that but he thinks Eddie picked up on how worried Wayne would get if he were gone for any amount of time.
Eddie's always been good at reading people when he bothers to pay attention to them. Maybe that should have been enough reason for him to give pause to his dislike of the Harrington boy, instead of needing to overhear the boy crying about how he thinks there's something rotten deep within him that only Wayne can sense.
He'd been so sure he knew what kind of person Steve Harrington was. Eddie had been hung up on boys just like him pert-near his whole life, Wayne thinks, and it's never ended differently.
It's a Tuesday night and his friends usually gather at the bar on Friday nights, but Wayne needs to get out of the trailer to think. A beer might help. So, he grabs his keys and heads out.
He's been a regular at this bar since before he was even old enough to drink. Used to come with his pa, may he rest in peace, just to get out of the house. He's been a patron longer than any of the staff have worked there, he realizes.
"Hello Linda," Wayne greets as he takes a seat at the bar instead of at his usual table. He'd done a cursory glace when he came in and confirmed none of his drinking buddies were in before choosing the bar.
"This isn't your usual day," Linda says, leaning a hip on the counter, "but it's always a pleasure to see you."
"I got some thinkin' to do," Wayne replies and Linda nods and moves away, returning soon with a bottle of his usual beer. She picks up the bottle open and removes the cap before setting the drink down in front of him.
"Need a sounding board, hun?" She asks.
Wayne does a quick survey of the bar again but it's pretty quiet so he returns his gave to Linda and says, "if you wouldn't mind too much hearin' about how an old man might have messed up."
Linda laughs. "You aren't even half a decade older than me, so you best not be sprouting that 'old man' nonsense around me, 'cause I am not some old lady."
"Terribly sorry, Linda. I'm just really feelin' like an old fool."
A small frown comes to Linda's face then. "Now what could you have possibly done?"
"Well, I guess I'm tryin' to figure out if I did mess up. Eddie's got a friend and I don't trust 'im. Thought I had good reason not to, but, well, I overheard somethin' I wasn't supposed ta and now I'm not sure."
Linda hums, "hmm, that doesn't sound like you, judging someone unrightly. You are usually a good read about people."
"I'll admit, I haven't bothered to spend enough time with the boy to, uhh, judge him."
"Wayne Munson," Linda scolds, "you best not be telling me you judged that boy because of other people."
Judging by Linda's raising brow line, he thinks his guilt must be clear on his face. "You know Eddie, and how people have treated him. And with what he just went through- I just want 'im safe. Sure, his new friend graduated last year, but he was on the basketball team his whole career. And I'm jus' supposed ta believe this one boy didn't side with the group who started the manhunt?"
"Unless you've got evidence otherwise, yes," Linda says, brows furrowed.
Wayne sighs. "I ain't got proof. I got a lot of people sayin' he's good, actually. But it's the Harrington boy. The same boy Eddie would come home and complain 'bout. Harrington, Hagan, Hargrove, though I shouldn't speak ill of the dead. All them boys treatin' Eddie like he wasn't worth nothin' until they wanted somethin' form him."
Linda's mouth is almost a perfectly straight line with how much she's pursed her lips the more he talks, but she doesn't interrupt and no customer calls for her, so he continues.
"And you know what Richard Harrington was like. I know y'all only shared one school year together, but Janice wasn't any better, and she was your year, wasn't she?" Linda gives him one nod in response. "That boy's a product of them. I- You can't fault me for thinkin' differently."
"So, when do you expect Eddie to end up in prison?"
The question throws Wayne and fills him with anger at the same time. "Now, Linda, I ain't likin' what you are implyin'."
"I ain't implyin' nothing," she says, using the same tone with him that he did with her. "I'm applying your logic. Eddie's a product of his parents, ain't he? Al's in prison, and his mama's long gone, bless her soul. And since Eddie ain't sick, last I heard, he must be following after his daddy."
The anger leaves him then, and all he's left with is shame. "Point made. And if I'm bein' fully honest with ya, I don't even need ya to defend that boy. That thing I overheard. That what's eatin' at me. He called me good people."
Linda softens, shoulders dropping, "you are good people, hun."
"That boy told my Eddie that I'm 'good people', and that his parents are bad ones, and I. I don't know what to do about that."
"He thinks his own parents are bad?"
Wayne nods, "is what he said. Thinks I can somehow sense he's also rotten just by association."
"There's nothing to it, then," Linda says, like they've already talked out the tangled mess that is Wayne's thoughts on Steve Harrington and have reached a conclusion. Well, perhaps Linda already has. She's always been bright, and she's usually right. "You, Wayne Robert Munson, need to apologize to that boy. The guilt and shame's gonna put you into your cups otherwise."
Wayne nods slowly, though he isn't even sure if he agrees or is just acknowledging what she said before he takes a long pull from his bottle before lowering both his arms to rest on the counter as he replies, "You're right as usual, Linda my dear. I just gotta let go of the fact he's Richard Harrington's son and try and see just Steve."
"Damn right. Eddie might be Al's by birth, but you raised him and he turned out alright. Maybe Steve got the same treatment. Had his own Wayne around to raise him right."
There might be a bit of truth to that. He's heard enough talk about Steve Harrington over the years to think that. One of his drinking buddies used to be Jim Hopper. He's heard about the amount of parties he'd had to go shut down at the Harrington's house, with no parents to be seen. (Always Jim's biggest gripe back then. "Where's this kids goddamn parents!?) Wayne always assumed their kid just took advantage every time his parents were gone, but maybe it's the opposite. Maybe they were always gone, and Steve had parties to not be alone in his house.
Linda's right. There is nothing to it. He needs to talk to Steve, properly apologize, and go from there.
"It ain't an easy thing, admittin' you might be wrong," Wayne sighs.
Linda reaches across the counter and places a hand on Wayne's arm just below his wrist. Wayne looks up from where he'd ended up staring at his bottle, making eye contact with her. "If your boy is friends with this boy, it's for a reason. Just give him a chance. You are one of the good ones, but even we can have a lapse in judgment now and then. Doesn't make you bad, makes you human."
"Ain't no one perfect but the good Lord," Wayne says and Linda nods in agreement.
"Alright. I'll leave you to your beer and your thoughts for now, but you best keep me updated on your situation. I wanna know how it goes," Linda retracts her hand and heads down the counter to check on the few other people sitting about nursing drinks.
Wayne sits in his thoughts more than he drinks, so by the time he's done with the beer it's warm but that's fine. He will talk to the Harrington kid, but he wants to talk to Eddie first. He owes his nephew that much, and he does recall Eddie saying something to the effect of 'he'll come around' to Steve, and Wayne wants to tell Eddie he'll try.
Also he doesn't want to just corner the boy after he's been somewhat intimidating intentionally. He's going to get Eddie to ask if Steve'll talk to him.
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True to his word, Eddie returns home late the next day. The clock says it's almost 6 when Eddie finally comes through the front door. If he's surprised to see Wayne awake, he doesn't show it. He does work the graveyard shift, and he's got a shift at 10 tonight, usually wakes up two hours before his shift. He'd wanted to make sure he caught Eddie, though, so he's been up since three.
"Eddie, you got a minute?" Wayne says.
"Sure. What's up?" Eddie says as he pulls off his jacket, depositing it on the nearest surface before plopping sideways on the couch so he's facing Wayne.
"I gotta come clean. I overheard some of what you and Steve were talkin' about," Wayne says, because he's a man of his word and he's always been good at doing the hard thing if it also turns out to be the right thing. He's got to be honest with Eddie, so he can be honest with himself. "Heard Harr- Steve talkin' 'bout how he thinks I'm a good person, and his parents aren't."
Eddie's quiet for a moment, blinking owlishly back at him while he thinks. "Oh. Umm. Sorry. I just- I think this is the first time I've heard you say Steve's name."
"Not the part I thought you'd focus on," Wayne huffs a laugh, "but I owe your boy an apology and I was hopin' you could help me make it happen."
"My boy- what is happening," Eddie drops his voice to whisper the question to himself.
"What's happening is I'm doin' the thing I always told you ta do. Taking accountability and fixin' my mistake."
"Oh. Oh!" Eddie narrows his eyes at Wayne, "you've made an ass out of me. All those times I assured Steve you were just being standoffish and you were- what were you doing?"
"Intentionally keepin' the boy at a distance 'cause I thought he was gonna hurt you. I sure as hell ain't been friendly. I been judging him because I knew his parents, thinkin' about how an apple don't fall far from the tree," Wayne stops, giving pause to see if Eddie will speak but he isn't. He's just staring at Wayne like he's a puzzle. "It was brought to my attention that it's mighty unfair to judge someone 'cause of how their parents act."
Eddie's brow furrows and his lips purse. It makes him think of Linda. She'd made the exact same face. "I- Jesus fuck this is weird, but I. I think I'm mad at you. Disappointed."
Eddie doesn't say it with an angry tone, and his face still looks more puzzled than mad, but the sentence feels like a kick to the chest anyway. Eddie and he have never been mad at each other, not in the eight years Eddie's lived here with him. They've been worried and scared for each other that, or mad at someone or something else that they take out on each other, but never mad at each other.
"You've every right to be."
Eddie stands from the couch, paces down the hallway, and Wayne thinks this might be the end of any conversation tonight, but instead Eddie comes storming back up the hall. "So, what, did you take me in expecting me to be my dad!?"
"No. He mighta contributed to your birth, but we both know that man ain't nurtured you a day in his life."
"Yeah, well, Steve's parents didn't raise him either, so all this has been bullshit! You made Steve think he's, he's broken and a bad person! And," Eddie's eyes are wet and he's angry but also about to cry. Wayne hasn't seen him like this in a long time. Not since the day they learned Al was in prison, fifteen years with a chance for parole if he's on his best behavior. Eddie had been so angry, and sad, and hurt by the news. Eddie's like that now, worked up so much he's repeating himself as he hiccups his words out around the lump in this throat, "And, and you made me help him feel that way! Because I didn't take him serious when he said, said you didn't like him! I thought you were being, being a dad, all fake gruff to intimidate the guy I like but it's- you were- FUCK!"
Wayne lets him yell. He deserves it, and Eddie needs it. Eddie's not saying anything untrue. He takes in what Eddie is yelling at him; Steve's parents didn't raise him, and how Wayne's cold shoulder must have added to whatever else Steve has going on in his life.
"I, I h-held him while he b-bawled into my shirt last night! He, he thinks- and you, you didn't even trust me! T-trust my own j-judgment of, of Steve! I, I need- I can't-" Eddie doesn't finish the sentence. He turns on his heel and storms back down the hall, the slamming of his door finalizing this conversation.
To say that Wayne feels terrible is inadequate. He's hurt his boy, and he's hurt his boy's boy, and he's got no one to blame but himself.
Now he's got two apologies to make.
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I tried to tag as many people as I could remember that expressed interest in a follow up fic. I am SO sorry if I missed you. Please let me know if you want to be tagged in the final part. I will only be tagging people who ask to be tagged going forward 'cause it's a lot of people to remember and my memory is garbage.
@i-less-than-three-you @nburkhardt @afewproblems @skepsiss @unclewaynemunson @itsthestrangestthings @emofratboy @devondespresso @finntheehumaneater @loopholesinmydreams @yourmom-isgay @wrenisflying @emsgoodthinkin @messrs-weasley @madigoround @jackiemonroe5512 @gutterflower77 @zerokrox-blog @eriquin @samyuck @lunarmaruna @mugloversonly @kaij-basil-lionelli88
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