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#to keep people from noticing that they don't actually agree on what he looks like is too funny to me
shysuccubusstuff · 3 days
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obssessed! childe pt. 1
Content: Female anatomy, obssession, dubcon (the reader does love Childe, and Childe loves reader, I just love writing yandere males).
Note: The potion that Childe uses is more like a "tell the truth potion", meaning the person will act/say whatever they actually think abt the person, if they do not say it they will start to feel light/mild effects, these effects vary from each person.
Note 2: I was planning on doing a single part but the text was getting too long and I've been cooking this for way too much time cause i have no time to write...
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I don't think you are able to understand the surprise Childe felt when he arrived to Inazuma, all with the objective of analyzing a little the situation of Inazuma (while also keeping an eye on Scaramouche), just a small and fast trip, then he would be able to go back to Snezhnaya, rest a little while waiting for the next quest given by the Tsaritsa. While at his stay, he found the different posters that talked about the rock festival that was being planned, and despite this did not catch his interest at first, he received some letters from the Tsaritsa, explaining to him how this would be a good opportunity to check how the people of Inazuma actually felt after the whole "now-we-are-mostly-free" situation. So he agreed, waiting patiently until the even finally took place, he decided to take a walk around Inazuma, just checking the different restaurants and small stalls that were sitting around the streets. He was checking some of the newest items added to the menu when he saw something, well, more like someone. There you were, as pretty as he remembered, you hair shinning thanks to the sun rays that were falling on top of your head. You were smiling...maybe more like laughing, which made you even prettier to be honest. While he stood there, menu still in his hand, he noticed another person, a huge man with long white hair, marks all over his body, he seemed to be quite strong, but taking into account that there was a huge ball of some kind of dessert in front of his feet, he did not seem to be the most brilliant persons that you had been able to meet. While analyzing this man, you suddenly hit him on his shoulder, your body being unable to keep still due to the huge laugh that you were trying to contain (this was useless, as you can see). He threw out what was left of the dessert and started to tickle you, making your own dessert fall to the floor. Now, what the heck was up with that? You barely allowed him to touch you, always saying "Childe, I still don't trust you fully" but a completely new man was able to do so? Yeah, he may have tried to drown you (and the whole city of Liyue) but weren't you being unfair? He stated his reasons and tried to be as kind as possible, giving you as much money as you wanted and even talking to his family about you (the pretty traveller with a fierce heart and a great attitute) but while he was doing that you went around meeting new men?
He quickly left the menu somewhere around the stall, going to where you stanted in a fast pace, but just as he was about to snap at the random man he composed himself, his friendly (yet dangerous) smile was back in his lips, he suddenly put one of his hands on your shoulder, causing you to suddenly jump. The other man slowly stopped, his red eyes looking to his blue eyes, even the expression that was in his face made him look like a complete dork, you changed him for some dull white-haired man? He may not be the most sane person, and yes, he may have a little problem with fighting you, but didn't you two have something? God, he was starting to get furious once again, but he kept the act, face as cool as a cucumber and a relaxed body language. "Hey traveller, long time no see, how have you been?" He only kept his eyes fixated on you, ignoring the existance of Itto for a moment. "I've been missing you like crazy, Teucer has been asking me about you and he was so sad that we have not been able to meet for such a long time!" Your expression got a little ankward, you knew Childe was doing it on purpose, turning his back while not allowing him to enter the conversation. "Oh hey... I didn't know you were going to come here to Inazuma, I've been fine, I was able to make some good friends here in Inazuma, this is Itto, he is the best at onikabuto fights!" Itto seemed to pump his chest, probably full of proud as for that... achivement? Childe smiled, the vein at his neck still pumped, cause what did he expect when he left you alone? All those dirty men probably tried to get to your pretty head with their dumb tactics, yeah, this dude may seem more innocent, but of course he was just like all the others.
Once again, he tried to compose himself, carefully getting his hand around your waist, Itto's eyes did notice, and as he felt how the pressure was getting bigger, he suddenly shifted his eyes, looking at some vague point. "Oh uhm... I forgot I just have this meeting... yeah, the one with the gang you know? Oh shoot, how could I forget? I gotta get going, see ya around compadre!" Itto left like the wind, running as fast as possible to get further away from that strange man who kept looking at him like some kind of prey.
"Oh, lady, why did your friend leave? I was about to invite him to some of the most beautiful places I was able to find... But I would first invite you to the great cuisine at some of the restaurants from Inazuma!" Childe smiled brightly, his enemy was no longer at sight, so of course he should try to keep his act of the "good guy". So he did, he invited to Inazuma's cuisine, even being so good as to get up himself and bringing your food to the table, even adding a special potion created in Mondstadt and carefully mixing it between your food. As he did not enjoy some unfair sparring, he did mix that potion with his own food, after all, if it did have some kind of harmful effects he should also be the one facing them. "Sorry for taking so long, I found some issues with the plate, so I had to ask them to change it!" He carefully explained, leaving each of the plates in the sides, together with the rest of plates that had already been served, just when you finally took a bite of all the food was he finally happy, smile shining as bright as the sun. When the dinner finally ended, he carefully took your hand, leading to the residence that you had been staying at, it was quite old for his liking, but he did find it enchanting, it was the place where you slept after all.
It took him some time to get you to bed, as the potion only seemed to make you drunk in some way body hot and tembling hands. He carefully laid you in bed, tucking you in with a lot of care and leaving a soft kiss on your forehead. He was kind of dissapointed with the drink, but he supposed that this was better than having some bad reaction to it. Just as he was about to leave the bedroom and head to his hotel, he felt a soft pull, your hand was around his wrist, your eyes looked just like a puppy, begging for him to not leave. At first he was quite hesitant, you were not in your right mind, and despite how much he would love to give you the thing you begged so much, he did have some moral compass. But your pretty eyes were melting him, and the sweet things that were leaving your lips did not help him either, so he gave in.
His body starting to burn up, was it because of the potion? It seemed that the potion did have a slower effect in him, as he was ok just a few minutes ago. His mind was starting to get a little fuzzy, so he slowly laid on bed, allowing you to get on top of him. "Ojou-chan...never did I think I would be able to have such a beautiful woman on top of me, not only beautiful, but a woman strong enough to defeat me..." His cocky smile on his lip only caused you to feel even stronger the urge to shut him up with a kiss, so you did, lips on top of each other and hands all over his body, playful hands going under his shirt, body hot to the touch due to the hot temperature of Inazuma at that time. "Aren't you been a little too cocky, lady?" You smile, still being completely under the effects of the potion. You pull away from him, looking at his flusthered face and getting closer to him, bitting and kissing his neck and hearing him let some breathy moans out of his pretty lips. "I'm trying to go easy on you, lady... But you have seen to learn some pretty mischiveous tactics while we were far apart..." He still had that cocky expression, even despite the fact that he was in a much worse state than you. He once again smiled, carefully putting his hands around your hips and massaging that place. He slowly kissed your face, peppering soft lips all around your cheeks and nose. "You're so naughty today, traveller..." Despite his lustful eyes, he kept treating you soft, something completely opposite to how he usually acted, all high and confident, being unafraid of being too rough when you fought each other. Childe's hands slowly moved upwards, pulling out the soft clothes that were covering your body, your skin shinning thanks to the moonlight that entered through the window in the room. "You're so pretty... so so pretty... I wish I could just hide you in my pocket,,, I want my family to meet you as soon as possible..." He kept peppering kisses all over your body, from your shoulders to your tummy, what was up with him? "Ajax... what is going on?..." He simply looked at you like a small puppy, kissing your lips and giving no answer to your question. He slowly got rid of his own clothes, leaving both of you completely naked, slowly analyzing all and each of your gaps and pretty features.
"I'm sorry, lady... I am at my limit and I don't think I can keep much longer... didn't think that the stuff that that damn old man gave me would be so strong..." The creepy face of the other member of the Fatuis almost caused him to flinch, but he just chose to focus on the moment, lowkey thanking him for the chance of such a "dashing" encounter with his dear rival (lover as well).
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norrussell · 2 months
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The Interview | Lando Norris⁴
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Pairings: Lando Norris x bsf!reader
Warnings: smut
Requested: yes
A/N: My first time writing bsf!Lando yay!!! This was a pain in the ass to edit and as twice to write. I wanted to burn it at least six times in the process, but I finally won that war and here we are. I don't hate it, but don't necessarily like it either, but I hope that's only because I read it like 945437 times and already know every sentence by heart 💀 and that you will actually enjoy it <3
Interviewing your best friend, how hard could it actually be? As you sat across from Lando Norris in the cozy McLaren hospitality, you realized that interviewing him was proving to be much more challenging than you had anticipated. Especially when he was looking like that.
Sweats and hoodies were his all time go to whenever he was at home, and you have seen him wearing it numerous times. But that morning when he came to pick you up from your hotel room, you didn’t expect that exact outfit to be the one to leave you stunned.
As you tried to ignore how effortlessly good he looked, in white sweatpants and a light grey jumper that showcased his lean physique, and curls of his hair falling in just the right way over his forehead, you cleared your throat and focused on the notes in front of you. But as Lando flashed you a charming smile and leaned back in his chair, all thoughts of the interview questions went out the window.
“So, what do you want to know that you already don’t?” Lando asked, his eyes sparkling with mischief.
"So, Lando," you began, trying to keep your voice steady, "what do you think sets McLaren apart from the other teams on the grid this season?"
"I think what really sets us apart is our team spirit," he replied. "We have an incredible group of people working together towards a common goal, and that camaraderie is something special." Lando flashed you yet another one of his charming smiles.
His words were filled with passion, and it was impossible not to be captivated by the way his voice drew you in. Despite being your best friend, there was something different about seeing him in his element, fully immersed in his love for the sport.
"It's no secret that you have a huge following on social media," you continued, steering the conversation towards a lighter topic. "How do you handle the pressure of always being under the spotlight?"
Lando chuckled softly before replying, "Oh, you know, I just try to be myself and have fun with it. The fans are amazing, and I'm grateful for all their support. Plus, it helps that my memes game is strong," he added with a wink.
"You definitely have some iconic meme moments," you agreed with a laugh, feeling more at ease now that the conversation had shifted to something more familiar. But beneath the banter and playful exchanges, you couldn't shake off the nagging feeling that there was something Lando wasn't telling you.
Throughout the interview, you noticed subtle shifts in Lando's demeanor whenever certain topics came up. His jokes became more frequent, his sarcasm sharper, as if he was intentionally deflecting your inquiries. You made a mental note to revisit those moments later, but for now, you decided to go with the flow and enjoy the time with your best friend.
Leaning forward, you fixed him with a steady gaze and said, "Let's talk some more about you. It’s the beginning of a new season and fans are eager to know what your goals are for the upcoming races. Can you share with us what you hope to achieve this year?"
For a moment, there was a flicker of seriousness in his eyes before he smirked and replied, "I hope to give all the other drivers a head start, just to make things interesting," Lando quipped with a mischievous grin.
You chuckled at his response, recognizing the familiar playful tone he always carried. But beneath the humor, you sensed a hint of determination in his eyes. Pushing further, you pressed on, "Come on, Lando. We all know you're not one to settle for anything less than the best. What are your real aspirations for this season?"
“You already know what my aspirations are, y/n. Can’t you just make something up?”
“Of course I can’t. What if I put together a statement and then you tell a different version of events to another journalist?”
Lando chuckled, shaking his head at your persistence. “And what makes you think I wouldn’t lie to them? Other reporters aren’t my friends so I think it’s actually you who’s in advantage here.”
Rolling your eyes playfully, you shot back, "Oh, so now I'm the lucky one getting the inside scoop, huh? Well alright, if you’re already so tired of answering my questions, how about we take a break and take some pictures for the article? I also heard you got a new helmet you’ll be wearing for testing as a tribute to Gil de Ferán, right? Let's capture that moment."
Lando's eyes lit up with enthusiasm at the mention of his new helmet design. He eagerly agreed, and the two of you made your way to the McLaren garage where his helmet awaited. As he carefully lifted it up, you couldn't help but admire the intricate details and the thoughtful tribute to the racing legend. Lando slipped it on with a sense of pride, and you couldn't resist snapping a few photos of him posing confidently in front of his car.
“Let’s go out to the track and have some shots of you and the helmet there. You could sit on the pit wall and hold it in your lap while admiring it,” you suggested, already envisioning the striking images that would accompany your article. Lando flashed you a grateful smile, appreciating your creativity and dedication to capturing the essence of his racing journey.
Lando perched on the pit wall, his expression a mix of focus and determination as he cradled the helmet in his hands. The vibrant colors of the design shone brightly against the backdrop of the racing circuit, a visual representation of Lando's respect for the sport's history and his aspirations for the future.
You snapped photo after photo, each frame telling a story of passion, ambition, and unwavering dedication.
“You’re choosing some interesting angles,” Lando teased as you were crouching down to get a shot from a lower perspective.
You couldn't help but smile at his lighthearted comment, your cheeks flushing with a warmth that had nothing to do with the scorching sun beating down on the track. Lando's voice had a way of enveloping you, drawing you in like a magnet and as you adjusted your position to capture another shot, your eyes inadvertently lingered on his hands, noticing the way his fingers traced the curves of the helmet with a gentle reverence.
You always thought Lando had beautiful hands, but in that very moment you couldn’t help but think what it would be like if those hands touched you. Really touched you.
The professional journalist in you was focused on capturing the perfect shots and telling Lando's story through the lens of your camera. But the other part of you, the part that had known Lando for years and cherished his friendship above all else, was struggling to keep up with the sudden surge of desires and thoughts that threatened to unravel your composure.
Lando's easy laughter and playful banter did little to ease the tension building within you. With each click of the camera, his presence seemed to grow more magnetic, his features more captivating. You couldn't deny the allure of his smile, the intensity in his gaze, or the way his energy seemed to envelop you in a cocoon of warmth.
While you reviewed the photos on your camera, Lando leaned in closer to get a glimpse as well. The heat of his body so near sent a shiver down your spine, and you hastily cleared your throat, trying to dispel the sudden rush of emotions coursing through you. But Lando was oblivious to your inner turmoil, his attention fully focused on the images displayed on the screen.
"These look amazing, y/n," he exclaimed, his eyes lighting up with genuine excitement.
"Thank you, Lando," you managed to reply, your voice sounding slightly breathless even to your own ears. Clearing your throat once more, you added, "We should head back. You still owe me some answers.”
As you walked back towards the McLaren hospitality unit, Lando slung an arm around your shoulder, pulling you into a playful headlock. "You know, y/n, for someone who claims to be a professional interviewer, you're not half bad as a photographer either," he teased, his eyes twinkling with mischief.
You chuckled, swatting his arm away with mock indignation. "Hey now, don't let my talents overshadow your own star power. I'm just here to make sure the world sees the real Lando Norris in all his glory, on and off the track," you quipped back with a grin, the easy banter between you a testament to the years of friendship that had only grown stronger through the shared journey in the fast-paced world of Formula 1.
As you reached the hospitality unit, Lando released you from the headlock and held the door open with a flourish. "After you, madam photographer," he said with a mock bow, his eyes dancing with a mischievous gleam.
You both entered the bustling hospitality area, filled with team members preparing for the upcoming race weekend. The familiar sights and sounds enveloped you, a comforting blend of adrenaline and excitement that always accompanied a race day.
The familiar faces of the McLaren team greeted you warmly, their camaraderie palpable in every interaction. Lando's presence only added to the vibrant ambiance, his infectious laughter drawing others to join in.
Taking a seat at one of the tables, you watched as Lando engaged in animated conversations with his teammates, his passion for racing evident in every gesture and expression. It was moments like these that reminded you why you were drawn to motorsport in the first place—the sense of community, the thrill of competition, and the shared pursuit of excellence.
“Sorry for leaving you like that,” Lando said, sliding into the seat across from you, “but duty calls. It’s time to jump in the car. We can finish the interview later tonight, if that’s alright?”
"Of course, go do your thing out there on the track. We'll pick up where we left off," you replied, giving him an encouraging smile.
You stayed for a while, watching him drive and snapping a few more photos of his swift maneuvers on the track, each turn and acceleration a testament to his skill behind the wheel. The sun dipped lower in the sky, casting a golden glow over the circuit as the day drew to a close and you decided to go back to the hotel and edit the material you’ve gathered so far.
Having spent the whole day on track in the glowing sun, you first took a shower and got more comfortable in your pajama shorts and loose top before settling down at the small desk in your hotel room. The soft glow of the lamp bathed the room in a warm light as you organized your notes and sifted through the photos from today's shoot. Lando's vibrant energy leapt off the screen, each image a kaleidoscope of emotions and determination captured in still frames.
Lost in thought, you were startled by a knock on the door. Puzzled, you made your way over and peered through the peephole to see Lando standing outside, a sheepish grin on his face. And he was back in that damn outfit from before.
Despite the late hour, you couldn't suppress a smile at the sight of Lando standing at your door, his eyes alight with a mischievous glint. Opening the door, you raised an eyebrow in mock admonishment.
“Look who decided to show up. I was beginning to think you had forgotten about me,” you quipped, stepping aside to let him in.
“Never,” he replied with a grin, making himself at home in your hotel room. “Besides, I thought we could finish that interview now that I'm all fresh and ready to spill some secrets," you couldn't help but notice the way he moved with an easy familiarity, as if he had been in this space countless times before. “Oh, sorry, were you getting ready for bed?” he asked, as if only now noticing your comfortable attire, his gaze lingering on your bare legs a little longer than necessary, before innocently looking you in the eyes with a small smile.
Ignoring the flutter in your chest at his gaze, you shook your head with a chuckle.
“Not at all, I was actually working. You should see your helmet shots on a big screen. They turned out to be amazing.” you gestured as you took a seat at your laptop to show him.
Lando leaned over your shoulder, his breath warm against your neck as he peered at the screen. You couldn't help but notice the closeness between you, the shared intimacy of the moment sending a chill down your back.
“Wow, these look incredible,” Lando breathed, his voice low with awe. ”You really have an eye for capturing the moment.”
His praise sent a flush of warmth to your cheeks, a mixture of pride and something else you couldn't quite name. As you scrolled through the images together, Lando's hand brushed yours accidentally, sending a jolt of electricity through you both.
Clearing your throat and trying to ignore the nervous flutters, you turned to face him. "So, about those secrets you promised to spill..."
Lando's eyes sparkled mischievously as he settled into the armchair beside you, his gaze intense as he studied your face. For a moment, there was a weighty silence that hung between you, thick with unspoken words and unexplored emotions. You could sense a shift in the air, as if the room itself held its breath in anticipation of what he might reveal.
Finally, breaking the tension with a casual shrug, Lando chuckled softly. "Alright, alright. What do you want to know?" he asked playfully, though there was a glint of vulnerability in his eyes that you couldn't ignore.
Seeing him sit there casually in that armchair and in those sweatpants with legs spread lightly made your breath a little quicker. Taking a deep breath and clearing your throat, you busied yourself with your notebook to keep you from looking at him. “So,” you started, flipping through pages. “We have a few unanswered questions left...”
You couldn’t help but feel a rush of nerves at his intense stare, and you mechanically placed a hand on the back of your neck, stretching it out slightly. Lando's gaze followed the movement, his expression softening as he reached out to gently touch your hand, his fingers tracing delicate patterns on your skin. The simple gesture sent a shockwave of warmth through you, the soft brush of his touch awakening a hunger you tried to suppress the whole day.
“Nervous?” he asked, his tone low.
You chuckled, trying to lighten the atmosphere. “Why would I be nervous? It’s not my first time conducting an interview.”
Lando's gaze lingered on you, his eyes searching yours with a depth that made your heart race. "Maybe it's not the interview that's making you nervous," he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. The air between you crackled with tension, the unspoken words hanging heavy in the room as he leaned closer, his breath warm against your skin.
Your mind raced with a million thoughts, emotions swirling within you as you met his gaze, feeling as though you were on the precipice of something unknown yet undeniably thrilling. In that moment, all the barriers you had carefully constructed around your heart began to crumble, revealing a vulnerability you had long kept hidden.
“I noticed the way you were looking at me out on the track today,” Lando murmured, his voice husky with unspoken desire. “It wasn't just the photographer's gaze anymore, was it?” His hand lingered on yours, a silent question hanging in the air. “Especially when you crouched down to get those low angle shots of the helmet. I could feel your eyes on me longer than necessary. You didn’t do it because you wanted to capture the shot perfectly, did you?” he continued, his gaze searching yours for any sign of confirmation. “No, you did it because you wanted to be on your knees for me, to be close to me, to feel the heat of my body as you snapped away at your camera. Admit it,” Lando's voice was a whisper, causing a flurry of emotions to swirl inside you.
His words were like a sharp blade, slicing through the air and laying bare a hidden longing that had been bubbling beneath the surface, waiting to be acknowledged. You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of what he had just said settling in the space between you.
“Even this, you inviting me into your dimly lit room—”
“I don’t like big lights,” you interjected, as you tried to regain some semblance of control over the situation.
But he continued as if you hadn't said anything. “—in your silky pajama shorts and that flimsy tank top that leaves little to the imagination,” Lando said, his voice dropping even lower as he leaned closer, his gaze smoldering.
“I was getting myself comfortable—”
“Of course, you’re smart and already have a reason for everything I point out,” Lando's gaze softened at your words, a flicker of understanding passing between you as he reached out to gently tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. The tenderness of his touch sent a wave of sensation to travel down your spine, reigniting the fiery connection between you. “But I am your best friend, and I know you. You can try as much as you want, but you can’t hide the truth from me,” Lando murmured, his thumb brushing lightly against your cheek as he leaned in, his lips hovering tantalizingly close to yours. “I know you inside out.”
His words hung in the air, the tension between you palpable as you both teetered on the edge of something unspoken yet undeniably present. And maybe. Maybe he was right. Intentionally or not, you did know he was coming.
In that charged moment, with your heart pounding in your chest, you made a choice. You took him by the collar of his shirt and smashed your lips together. You pulled him with such force that he stumbled forward, but he quickly found balance by taking a handful of your hair and pulling you closer, deepening the kiss with a hunger that matched your own. The kiss was electric, a surge of raw desire and pent-up emotions finally breaking free. The world around you faded away as you lost yourself in the intoxicating taste of him, the warmth of his lips searing through you like a wildfire.
Every touch, every caress, ignited a blazing need within you, a longing that had been buried for far too long. As you melted into each other, the boundaries that had kept you apart crumbled, leaving only the raw, primal connection that bound your souls together.
As the kiss broke, you both gasped for air, your foreheads resting against each other as you tried to catch your breath. Lando's eyes bore into yours, a mixture of surprise, craving, and something deeper that stirred within his gaze.
“Is this what you wanted?” you whispered, your voice barely audible in the tense stillness that enveloped you both.
“I wanted to kiss you first, but god, you’d beat me to it,” a low chuckle escaped his lips as he spoke. There was a hint of amusement in his eyes, but beneath it lay a raw vulnerability that mirrored your own. In that moment, as you gazed into each other's eyes, you knew that nothing would ever be the same between you.
You reached out to touch his face, your fingers tracing the contours of his jawline as if committing every detail to memory. The room felt as though it had shrunk, leaving just the two of you in your own intimate world where words were no longer needed.
“Then kiss me,” you breathed.
Lando's lips met yours in a frenzy of passion, each kiss deepening the connection that had ignited between you. His hands dug into your shirt, pulling you closer as if trying to erase any remaining distance between you. You responded with equal fervor, your hands tangling in his hair as you deepened the kiss, a surge of emotions overwhelming your senses.
He picked you up in his arms and carried you to the bed, laying you down gently, your laughter mingling with his in the heated moment. As he joined you on the mattress, his lips trailed down to your neck, your skin tingling at his touch, and you moaned softly as his teeth grazed your sensitive skin. A shiver ran through your entire body, and you arched into him, inviting him further.
He took the invitation, his hands exploring every inch of your body, his touch feather light at times, then rougher, aching to leave his mark upon you. Your breath caught in your throat as his fingers traveled over your chest, igniting a wave of heat inside you. Each touch left a trail of fire, intensifying the sensation.
His mouth found its way to your lips again, his tongue darting out to taste you, and you met him eagerly, your tongues twining together in a frenzied dance. The room was filled with the sound of your breaths mixing, your hearts pounding in sync, as you lost yourself in each other's embrace.
Lando's body pressed against yours, his heat searing through your clothes, making your skin feel like it was sizzling. You could feel his hardness brushing against your core, making you moan softly, yearning for more.
Your hands found their way to his back, pulling him closer, needing the intimacy that only skin-to-skin contact could provide. His mouth gently moved down the curves of your neck, leaving a tantalizing trail of kisses that sent sparks of exhilaration coursing through your body. You arched your back yet again, wanting more of his touch, more of his attention.
Slowly, he lifted your shirt, revealing your stomach, and you felt a sudden rush of heat between your legs. His eyes locked onto your bare skin, a hunger gleaming in them. You knew he was seeing all of you, every flaw and imperfection that made you, you. But he didn’t care; he wanted you just the way you were.
“You’re perfect,” he whispered, his voice barely above a whisper. You could feel the sincerity in his words, and a wave of vulnerability washed over you. This wasn’t just about the physical attraction; it was about the emotional connection you had built over time.
He kissed your stomach, his warm breath sending a shiver down your spine. You wanted him closer; you wanted to feel his skin against yours. You reached behind you and tugged off his shirt, revealing his muscular physique that you had always admired.
You pulled him closer, and he kissed you again, his hands wandering to your breasts, tracing the outline of your nipples through your pajama top. You moaned softly, arching your back, wanting more of his touch.
He took off your top, revealing your bare chest, and you shivered at the feeling of his rough hands on your skin. He kissed your torso, his tongue darting out to taste you, and you moaned softly, inviting him to explore more.
He trailed his lips down your stomach, leaving a path of wet kisses that made you tremble with longing. You could feel his breath on your thigh, and you knew what was coming. He traced the edges of your panties, his fingers teasing you, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.
Lando looked up at you, his eyes filled with craving. He wanted you more than anything, and you knew it. You were his, and he was yours.
You reached down and pulled off his pants–the damn pants that started all this in the first place–revealing his erection that strained against the fabric. Your fingers grazed it, and he moaned softly, his eyes locking with yours. You could see the need in him, and it made your heart race.
You pulled off his pants, revealing his naked body, and you couldn't help but admire him. He was perfect, every inch of him, and you knew that this was what you had been waiting for. This was the moment you had been dreaming of, the moment you had been yearning for.
He laid you down gently and continued to explore every inch of your body. His fingers traced the curves of your hips, your waist, your thighs, each touch setting off a firestorm of desire within you. You moaned softly, your body arching towards his, craving his touch.
He slid his fingers between your legs, teasing your most sensitive spot, sending waves of delight coursing through you. You gasped, your breaths becoming shallow as you struggled to control the growing want inside of you.
Lando's eyes locked with yours, a mixture of lust and tenderness shining in them. He leaned down and whispered in your ear, his breath warm and sensual, “You are never to interview any other driver, you hear? You are mine. My best friend, my reporter.”
You laughed softly, the sound mingling with his as he skillfully used his hands to bring you to satisfaction. "I don't know, Lando. What if my boss wants me to do another story? What will I say then?"
“Then you do it somewhere I can see you. And you wrap it up, no inviting other drivers into your hotel room cause look what happens,” he quipped, his fingers moving faster, sending shivers throughout your body.
You gasped for air, your body trembling as you felt the waves of pleasure building up within you. You knew that you were close, that you couldn't hold back any longer. “Lando, please,” you begged, your body aching for release.
Lando's eyes met yours, a fierce intensity in his gaze. He knew what you needed, and he was more than willing to give it to you. With a sudden, forceful thrust, he entered you, filling you completely, sending a shockwave of pleasure through your entire body.
You cried out, your breath hitching as each thrust sent you higher and higher. Lando's pace quickened, his body slamming against yours, each movement a testament of his want for you. The room was filled with the sounds of your intertwined bodies, your hearts beating in sync, lost in the moment.
“You feel so good,” Lando panted, his voice low and rough. He reached up, his hands tugging at your hair, pulling your lips to his in a searing kiss. His tongue plunged into your mouth, tasting you, possessing you.
You wrapped your legs around him, your nails digging into his back, pulling him closer, needing him deeper. Your body ached for more, craving the release that only he could give you.
Lando's thrusts became more insistent, his hips pistoning against yours, each movement driving you closer to the edge. Your breath came in short gasps, your heart pounding in your chest as the ecstasy built up inside you. You could feel the heat coursing through your veins, the desire consuming you.
“Lando, oh god, I'm so close,” you whispered, your voice trembling with need. Lando responded by increasing his pace, his body slamming into yours, each thrust sending overwhelming bliss throughout your entire body.
You felt the familiar sensation building up within you, the pressure rising, the heat spreading. You knew what was coming, and you welcomed it with open arms. With a loud cry, you arched your back, your body trembling as the wave of pleasure crashed over you, engulfing you completely. Lando's body followed suit, his thrusts becoming erratic, his voice hoarse as he emptied himself within you, crying out your name.
Your bodies collapsed onto each other, panting heavily, your skin glistening with sweat. You didn't know how long you lay there, lost in each other's embrace, but the moment felt timeless. 
You glanced at him, only to see him sound asleep with a contented smile on his face. You couldn't help but run your fingers lightly through his hair, feeling the warmth of his body and the weight of his head on your chest. But you still had the article to finish and the call from your editor to make.
You gently extracted yourself from his embrace, feeling the cool air on your skin as your body adjusted back to reality. With a tender kiss on his forehead, you whispered, “I'll be right back,” feeling a sense of contentment and a touch of guilt at leaving him there.
You put on a robe and sat down at your desk, using the warm glow of the computer screen to illuminate your face as you typed away, every word bringing you closer to finishing the article. Although he owed some questions to the world, as his best friend you already knew the answers to almost every one. Remembering his words from earlier, you took it to your advantage to finish the article.
As you worked, the memories of the night still fresh in your mind, you couldn't help but recall the way Lando's hands felt on your body, the way his breath grazed your skin, the way his voice whispered husky promises in your ear. It made it hard to concentrate, but you knew you had to be professional.
With the piece finally done, you sent it to your editor, knowing that you had captured the essence of Lando's journey and the excitement surrounding his career. You knew that this was just the beginning of many great things for him, and you couldn't be more proud to have witnessed it firsthand, as his best friend, reporter and maybe something more in the future.
1K notes · View notes
toruro · 11 months
Text
— ✧ the cake in the back
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pairing. choi seungcheol x reader
description. cheol is a regular at your bakery, and it's all because his son loves the banana bread you make—at least that's what he tells himself. it also doesn't hurt that you're cute. and polite. and totally someone he'd like to fuck.
genre. smut, fluff
tags. rich dilf cheol, bakery owner reader, or4l (f receiving), car s3x, kitchen s3x, pet names (angel), cr3ampi3, aprons ... hehe
w/c. 3.8k+
a/n. IGNORE THE TITLE OKAY I THOUGHT IT WAS FUNNY. look i know it's corny and i literally am writing this on a whim but happy father's day
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"soobin's not with you today?" your voice is cheery and gentle when you greet your regular.
mr. choi smiles and shakes his head. "shocking, i know," he laughs in that deep and velvety tone that has you bouncing up and down on the balls of your feet out of pure giddiness.
"a pleasant surprise," you reply, putting on some gloves as mr. choi approaches the counter. it's near closing, and it's around that time of day where people usually don't come in as much, so you've been alone and just cleaning up the space yourself. "what can i get you, mr. choi?"
the handsome man chuckles, flicking his wrist as he pushes some hair back, the reflective surface of his wrist watch (that you definitely don't want to know the price of because it might just make you pass out) glinting under your bakery's warm lights. "thought i told you to stop calling me that. seungcheol is much better considering ..." he searches for the words for a moment. "... we see each other so regularly," he concludes.
"i've got to maintain some level of professionalism, don't you agree, mr. choi?" you tease. "the regular, i'm assuming? two banana breads?"
"you already know it."
grinning, you nod and pull up a box. "how's soobin? i haven't seen him or you in a while. i'm starting to miss my favorite customer."
"i'm sure soobin would be flattered to hear that. he's doing well, i couldn't bring him today since he's got a swimming class this evening," seungcheol explains, pulling out his wallet that's donned in some brand name that looks so expensive you don't even know how to pronounce it. you move down the counter grab some of the bread which is on your far left, and he walks down on the other side to match you, keeping up the conversation.
"ah yes. he seems to be around that age to start learning. better now than never, honestly. my younger brother didn't learn until he was older and it did not seem easy," you say with a giggle, bringing out the tongs to grab two small loaves.
seungcheol nods in agreement. "that, and i'm planning on taking the two of us on a vacation spot in a few months ... not sure where yet, but soobin's been wanting to go to a beach location for ages," he tells you, and your heart swells.
the image of soobin and seungcheol, goofing around on a beach send a warm feeling through your body. it's also maybe an added plus that there's a flicker in your mind of what seungcheol would look like in nothing but swim trunks, skin shining from the water under the beaming sun, dark hair splayed across his forehead.
you wonder what he's hiding beneath that plain, beige t-shirt of his. his arms are somewhat exposed, and from just the little bit of muscle that peeks out and flexes when he moves around, you think you can safely assume he's got much more going on in the places where your eyes can't reach.
realizing he's still right in front of you, you blink down hard as an attempt to pull yourself back into reality, eyes flickering up at the handsome man in front of you.
"s-sounds fun," you say honestly, packing the bread and handing it to him over the counter. in this moment, seungcheol catches sight of the apron you've got on. it's light pink and hugs your figure so nicely, he can't help but comment on it.
"new apron, huh?"
shyly, you look down and nod. you hadn't expected him to notice. "uh, yeah. my employees got it for me as a birthday gift, actually."
seungcheol furrows his brows as he hands you his card so you can charge him. "it's cute. was your birthday, um, recent?"
you nod casually, tapping at your machine for a second before handing back his card, trying to ignore the way his comment first comment has your stomach flipping and flopping around. "yeah, it was a few days ago."
"i'm sorry, i didn't know," he says sincerely, causing you to frown.
"hey, don't worry about it. it's not something i expect my customers to know and—"
"let me treat you to something," seungcheol says abruptly, cutting you off mid-sentence. he realizes after that it's a bit rude, but something about the way you brush him off as just a customer makes him feel the need to prove you wrong.
"i—i'm sorry?" you ask, and for a moment seungcheol almost mistakes your confusion for apprehension, but then he drinks in the way you look up at him curiously, lips slightly parted, and he relaxes.
"you're closing soon, right? let me ... treat you to something," he repeats. "a coffee or something, if you don't mind."
"oh, i can't possibly impose like that, especially when you've got to pick up soobin and—"
"i wouldn't be offering if you were imposing. he's getting picked up by my friend anyways—his son and soobin are going to have a play date and stuff and—" he's rambling, seungcheol knows that, but he can't seem to care. "basically what i'm saying is you don't have to worry about that. seriously. wait—not that i'm forcing you. you can totally say no, i just ..." he sighs, "don't want you to say no because you think you'll be imposing. 'cause you won't be."
when you smile brightly up at him, eyes glittering and laugh cheery, a wave of relief washes over seungcheol. "i—thank you for the reassurance. i'd love to get coffee, but i do have around twenty more minutes before closing and i still have some stuff i need to clean up and i'm not sure if you—"
"i'll wait." he pauses, then adds, "and help."
you're a bit apprehensive at first—a customer helping you out with closing? but you're quick to learn that once cheol has his mind set on something, it isn't the easiest to pull him away from it—and right now cheol is determined to treat you, as he put it.
the next forty-five minutes is spent with you directing seungcheol around your bakery. he's a surprisingly fast learner and before you know it, all the pastries are loaded in the back, the dishes are cleaned, your floors are swept, and suddenly you find yourself outside of your shop with the doors locked, standing next to seungcheol who watches with you a clouded expression.
"thank you so much for the help," you say bashfully. "you're already taking me—" is it too soon to say he's taking you out? oh well, what's done is done. "—taking me out. isn't this a little too much?" you joke, wiggling your brows.
seungcheol chuckles and shakes his head, pulling his eyes out of his pocket and twirling around the chain around his fingers. fuck, he has really nice fingers—
seungcheol's voice interrupts your thoughts "do you have a car or—"
"i usually take the bus home," you explain, rocking back and forth on your feet. cheol frowns, but doesn't say anything. maybe he can fix that, but that's an thought for another time as he points at his suv, all black from top to bottom, with tinted windows and full black wheels.
there's a silence that envelopes the two of you when you slip into the passenger seat, placing your work bag on the floor. seungcheol is already in the driver's seat, key stuck in but not turning on the engine just yet.
you glance between the sight of your bakery out the window, and back at seungcheol who already has his gaze on you.
"you're going to have to be transparent with me for a second," seungcheol says seriously, locking eyes with you as you shift your body to face him. "and i want to make sure we're on the same page about ..." about whatever is going to go down.
you bite down on your lip, and even though cheol knows you're doing it absentmindedly, he can't help but feel his pants grow tighter at the way it puffs up when your teeth release it.
"i ... i think you know we're on the same page," you reply shyly, shifting a little in your seat to try and make up for the silence.
"you want this?" cheol clarifies, one eyebrow cocked up.
a feeling of pride swelters in his chest when you reply without hesitation, "i do." and then a bit more quietly, you add, "i, uh, have for a while."
now cheol usually likes to tread lightly; he doesn't want to mess around and is great at keeping his dick in his pants but there's just something about the way you look at him so cutely.
you look at him like you know all the nasty things he wants to do to you, and you bat your eyelashes like you don't care—like you'd let him. like you'd take every damn thing he gives you without a single word of complaint, and it's driving him crazy.
again, cheol is great at keeping his foot on the brake, but then you swipe your tongue over your bottom lip and suddenly he's slamming his feet on the accelerator.
wrapping one hand around your neck, he pulls you to smash his lips onto yours. it's a gentle kiss—tentative, as if you're both testing the waters. pressing against each other as your faces tilt, your hands find purchase in his hair when cheol laps at your bottom lip. that's where it all takes off.
the kiss turns from innocent and sweet to sloppy and fast within a matter of moments and suddenly you're grappling at his arms, his hands are searching for your tits, gripping at the flesh and before you know it, you're being thrown to the back.
seungcheol nearly slams your back down onto the seats, your loose shirt riding up your stomach in the process to reveal the lower half of your bra. "fuck," he mutters, low and under his breath in that raspy sort of way that has your clothes feeling too hot and your cunt too empty.
"seungcheol," you moan, unbuttoning your work pants and shoving them off your legs, along with your panties in one go, leaving your wet cunt open and bare. he doesn't take a moment to shuffle back and bring his face down to be level with your core, eyes looking up at you with some kind of mischievous glint that has your stomach churning.
with a bit of hesitance, he places a soft kiss over your clit, watching you carefully to see how you react. when you whine and arch your back against the leather seats, he figures that that reaction is good enough, and this time lets his tongue out, swiping it against the throbbing bad.
"sweet," he murmurs, lips moving down against your folds. the movement and vibrations send sparks through your core and up your spine, and you shudder at the feeling as one hand flies down to grip at his dark hair. "so fuckin' sweet," he repeats before diving his tongue back, swiping it up and down between your folds.
"ah-h-h, seungcheol—fuck," you whimper when he presses the wet muscle flat against your drooling hole, continue to circle around and tease you. fervently, cheol—to put it bluntly—makes out with your cunt. digging his face in between your legs, his nose brushes against your clit when he adjusts his neck to lap and suck against unexplored areas, leaving you mewling into your arm as you try and sit still for him.
there isn't much room in the back, and to be frank, your limbs are in an uncomfy position, and you can only imagine the strain cheol is feeling, bent over and legs in an awkward position when he holds your hips and pulls you closer so he can smother himself in your pussy. he doesn't seem to mind though, lifting his head every few moments to grin up at you with hazy eyes, glossy lips, and a drenched chin, off-handedly commenting something dirty about how nice you taste, how he could live between your legs, how you're driving him fucking insane.
it's the meticulous flicks of his tongue, the deep and guttural words that escape his honeyed lips, and the girth of his fingers when he finally plunges them into your warm cunt that bring you to your edge. it only takes a few rubs and curls against your aching walls before your shaking, crying out his name as you thrust upwards, holding his face down so you can grind against him.
and he whispers the words, "cum angel," so sweetly—a complete contrast to the way his tongue is scooping up all your arousal—and so you cum like you never have before.
fuck my life, you think to yourself as the waves of your orgasm finally hit you. cheol rides you through the high, and he does it good. so good, you're left breathless when he pulls away from your cunt with a dopey smile and feather light kisses all up your thigh and stomach, and then finally your lips.
"my place?" he asks, stroking your cheek gingerly as you blink up at him. and when you nod hazily, he pats you lightly, helping you back to the passenger seat before helping you slip on your panties and pants back on. this time, when cheol gets back into the driver's seat, he places one hand on the steering wheel, the other secure over your still quivering thigh. "relax angel," he murmurs, and you can't help but burn at the gentle words. this can't be the same man who ate you out like you were damn piece of cake just moments earlier.
the drive is quiet, but not uncomfortable. if anything, you're fucking enthralled. when he stops at a red light, cheol looks over at you and when your eyes meet you can't help but giggle together until you're cheeky, grinning mess by the time you pull up to his house.
parking in the lavish drive way, cheol tells you to hold on for a second, getting out of the car and making his way to your side, to open the door for you.
"i didn't know that this what you meant by coffee," you giggle, stumbling out next to him and letting him wrap an arm around your waist to help you up the steps to his house. it's a beautiful estate, really, but you aren't too focused on admiring the luxury right now—you're much more interested in what's to come between you and cheol.
and you're about to find out soon enough because as soon as he opens the door, lets you in, and closes it behind you, cheol's hands are all over you. with your eyes closed as you two engage in a hot mess of tongue and teeth and lips, your rocking back and forth in his arms, his legs leading to you to some place you're not really aware of until you feel something hard and cool press against your lower back.
"wear the apron," cheol tells you firmly when he pulls away, pressing you against his cold stone counter. you knit your eyebrows together in confusion, but let your bag that's still on your shoulder drop onto the counter, taking out your apron without hesitation.
it's now that you realize you're in his kitchen. if you weren't in such a ... intimate setting, you would have admired the design, the appliances—all of it. perhaps you'd even wonder what it's like to bake in here, cooking up soobin's favorite banana bread with cheol by your side and—you save those thoughts for another time.
"w-why?" you murmur in response to cheol's request, as you pull the apron out, pulling the pink strap over your head, tying it behind your back as the ache between your legs begins to creep up on you again. cheol's big hands find purchase on your hips again, holding down you down with a firm grip as he turns you around and pushes your back down.
"'cause," he grunts out, and you nearly moan when you hear the sound of his belt unbuckling and fabric rustling as he shoves his pants and boxers down. it hardly takes a second before his hands are at the hem of your own pants, yanking them down and giving you a moment so you can step out of them.
you wiggle your ass around for a second, turning to look back at cheol with pleading eyes and ask him to just fuck you already, but then he locks a hand under your jaw, cupping the underside of your face and pulling it up so your back arches into his touch. you can feel the angry, hard head of his cock prodding against the plush of your ass and the feeling of him brush against you has you whining.
"patience, angel," he coos, pressing his face next to the shell of your ear and placing a soft kiss on the crown of your head before easing his way through your folds. you can't even see him but you just know he's big—fat length rubbing up and down your folds as he coats himself in your arousal as you whisper incoherent pleas for more.
"cheolie ..." the nickname slips from your lips with out as much as a brainless thought but it has cheol's head rewiring.
"fuck, say that again," he demands, snaking the hand that's not holding your face down your back until it's gripping the cute little bow of your apron.
you hum as you feel him tugging at the fabric, jerking your body backwards and pushing your cunt harder against him, the fat tip brushing against your sensitive clit. "cheolie!" you mewl again, and you're really not expecting the way he jams his cock into you in one go. not that you're complaining of course.
'cause how could you complain when he's stretching you out so nicely? when his cock is so long it's already hitting kissing your cervix and hitting spots inside of you that you didn't even think were possible to reach? when he's so deep that his balls are pressed against your burning core and his pelvis is flush against your ass?
"you feel so good," cheol moans, and you squeeze around him even tighter when you hear the low, gruff words escape his lips. "this pussy was made for me, huh?" he breathes out with a chuckle, as he pulls out halfway before pulling the strings of the apron so your core meets him halfway, slamming his cock back into you.
"oh god," you moan loudly, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you try and swivel your hips against his for some added stimulation.
"gonna think abt this every time you wear this, won't you?" cheol grunts, twisting his fingers around the bow in the back so he hold onto it tighter.
the thought runs through your fucked out mind for a moment; you're gonna have to walk into work tomorrow, and if you're wearing the apron, you'll have to sit through the day knowing that you had cheol's cock buried inside of you under this same fabric—if you aren't wearing it, you'll have to come up with an excuse for your lovely employees as to why you're not wearing their precious gift.
which option you're going to go with, though, is swept from your mind when cheol sticks a finger into your mouth and presses down on your tongue as he fucks into you harder.
what a moment, you think. getting railed on the counter of a man who you always thought was out of reach. your insides feel like jelly as his fat cock runs against your walls, veins and curves pressing and dragging through you as heat envelopes you.
and as his thrusts increase in force, you start to realize that cheol is nothing if he is not relentless. just when you think you've whimpered his name so much you think you might lose your voice, he's ramming into you harder, punching the air right out of your lungs as broken moans and squeaks that have him losing his damn mind.
"what a fuckin' angel, creaming me cock so well," he praises, yanking you back and forth at an unforgiving pace to match his calculated thrusts. you feel like you're being thrown around in the best way possible, body throttling every time his hips crash against your ass and cause you to lurch forward and arch your back even more.
and as he goes on, the rub of his cock against you, the press of his balls against your clit, his hand in your mouth and pressing against your jaw—it's all so much and so fast and so good until you're shaking and thrashing in his hold.
"mmf—cheolie, wan' cum," you choke out when you feel his cock twitch inside of you.
"yeah? my pretty angel's gon' cum on my cock?"
"yeah-huh," you answer dazedly, body jerking back and forth as his hips snap more haphazardly now, but still hitting that one sweet spot that has your vision going bleary. "can i cum, cheolie?"
and you ask him so fucking sweetly, he can't hold it in anymore, dazedly grunting out something along the lines of, "yeah, angel, cum f'me," before he spills his hot seed inside of you. the sensation of his cum painting your walls white is the final thing you need before joining cheol with your own orgasm, clenching around him so tightly that it has him gripping down on your hips in a way that you know you'll have bruises tomorrow. not that you mind.
how could you, when you just had the most mind blowing orgasm of your life with the hottest guy you've ever met. as you twitch against him, cheol finally pulls himself out and you whimper lowly at the feeling of being empty even though you know you'd probably pass out if you had his dick in you any longer.
gently, cheol strokes your back and caresses the taught muscles, untying the apron that quite literally had you in a chokehold, letting it fall from your figure. "'m sorry," he murmurs into your neck, placing a soft kiss on your shoulder, "was i too rough?"
"n-no," you say, face burning when you realize just how croaky and fucked your voice has become. cheol only laughs at you as you dig your face into your hands as you mumble bashfully, "it was ... great." you're slightly embarrassed, yes, but when you catch the look of endearment on cheol's face, you start to think twice.
as you both attempt to even out your breaths, cheol looks down at you panting against the counter, cum spilling out of your fluttering folds. vaguely, he wonders what you'll look like in a bikini in the bahamas. huh, he thinks, maybe he'll have to ask soobin if it's okay to bring an extra certain someone with them on their vacation this summer.
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a/n. how i managed to get this out in one day i don't know. the cheol effect i guess. anyways, hope u enjoyed!
tags. @xcynthiaaa @synthetickitsune @leejihoonownsmyheart @dahliatopia @gyuswhore @hoeforcheol @5xiang @hajimelvr @miriamxsworld @blinkjunhui @lixiel0ver @josefines-things @mimisxs @kawennote09 @bbyjjunie @rubyreduji @marzmeltdown @todorokiskitten (strikethrough could not be tagged)
5K notes · View notes
anantaru · 1 year
Text
— rejecting his cuddles
rejecting his cuddles feat. al-haitham, cyno, diluc, scaramouche x gn! reader
a/n: i spontaneously wrote this after coming home from a night out while craving fluff and cute things
genre: fluff, we're a lil bad for messing with them but who cares, right
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— al-haitham
"no thanks!"
you couldn't possibly reject his attempt to cuddle you right now, or could you?
at first, al-haitham‘s smile will slowly drop, not at the reason you might think because he actually is sure this has a deeper meaning, right?
jokes aside, actually he had you figured out from the start but wanted to see how far you would go, putting on the best fake facade one could pull off, it's almost as if he was a natural at deceiving people.
"no.. thanks?" al-haitham was quite impressed on how you managed to reject him this smoothly, it even hurt a little if he was being honest.
He wasn't stupid though, he was aware you were clearly messing with him, his little angel could be a little brat sometimes, that's what he cherished and loved about you as well.
maybe.. he should just try again, right?
with that in mind, al-haitham opened his arms again to advance towards your body to close the distance only for you to wiggle yourself away before he could catch up to you.
"no thanks, i‘m good!"
okay, maybe you were quite cruel today, you honestly didn‘t think much of it and wanted to tease your boyfriend, it was mostly him who would triumph over you so it was natural for some payback here and there.
curiosity got the best of you and that‘s why you were pushing your little scheme a bit further than you actually anticipated to do in the first place, seeking a reaction from your boyfriend.
the second rejection was a literal whiplash right into his face, but then it went clear as day to him, the solution to all of this warmly greeting him.
"okay."
if you could play such game, he surely could do so as well, he deducted that if he was to ignore you now, your fake facade would fall within seconds.
how else were you supposed to keep playing this with him not giving you any attention anymore?
al-haitham was about to get up from his seat as you quickly grabbed his wrist, holding him down.
"okay i was joking don‘t go!"
the slight worry on your face was hilarious to him, how he knew you like the back of his hand was almost scary. In his eyes there wasn‘t anything easier than figuring you out.
"you should stop messing with me before i‘m thinking of a way to get back at you."
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— cyno
the general mahamatra had a busy life, cyno was on duty every day and once he got home after a long night, the least you could do is hug him!
today you felt like you should play a little trick on him, just for a quick giggle in your relationship. Contrary to popular belief, cyno was actually an overly humorous person, even though his jokes mostly didn‘t land as he intended them to.
with that you heard the front door open with cyno following suit. You decided to greet him as always and walked towards your boyfriend as he tiredly smiled into your direction, already opening his arms.
"how was your day?"
normally you would‘ve hugged him first and then ask him a question, but today you stood right in front of him without drawing yourself into his embrace.
"it was good, come here." once cyno noticed you weren‘t moving an inch, he thought he should be the one to just hug you instead, yet after attempting to do just that …
"no thanks."
there was an awkward silence followed by cyno looking at you in slight disbelief and irritation. His eyes were low lidded and his expression tired, he really just wanted a hug!
"okay, i understand and respect it, but i don't agree with it."
typical cyno, now that you think back at it you don't really know how you expected him to respond to you. He was a gentleman at heart and immensely respected you.
yet though he didn‘t let it on, this was truly the worst thing that happened to him, yet he obviously doesn‘t want to force you either.
with a flash of guilt throwing itself at you like a fierce force, you quickly stopped him with a big hug from behind, resting your head on his back with your arms tightly shut around him.
"i‘m just messing with you, i‘m sorry."
ending your little sentence with a tiny giggle to soothe the mood, cyno turned around to face you at last, looping his arms around your body in return.
"hah, funny."
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— diluc
in any other case diluc wouldn't think too much of it, but the way you were denying his physical affection did throw him off in an unnatural amount.
"no thank you, i'm satiated."
"satiated?" the word blurted out of his mouth in an irritated way, he became confused and unable to recall what the most alarming aspect of this situation was right now.
the fact you didn't want his cuddles, which you once stated were the absolute best, or the fact that you stated you were quote on quote, satiated.
satiated by who?
the urge to throw himself into your embrace was always there, but he didn't want to make you uncomfortable. Diluc was patient with you and so were you with him.
yet he would lie if he didn't feel worried about this, the poor guy having not a single chance of noticing that you were clearly messing with him out of sheer boredom.
as a matter of fact, you didn't intend to go this far, nor did you think diluc would grow this anxious now, making up your mind you decided to end your little play after all as he spoke again.
"is something wrong? if i did something you must speak to me."
noticing how he shifted his eyes around the room, the guilt consumed you from within with your hands quickly grabbing his waist to draw him towards your warm body.
"I'm so sorry, i was trying to mess with you don't worry please."
with a momentary silence and his body frozen, he sighed in relief upon snuggling close to you, feeling the fastened beat of his heart, or was it yours?
"hmpf, maybe i shouldn't hug you for a while."
your eyes widened at his overly cheeky, teasing wording, your lips carved into a pout as you searched for his face, placing your hands on his shoulders.
"it was kaeya's idea, not mine!"
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— scaramouche
it wasn't often for scaramouche to search for a hug, not that he didn't want to hug you but he still wasn't completely accustomed to it, to trust a person again and simply relax under their touch.
one might say you were cruel for even thinking of pranking him, because who knows how he would react?
you, will now, know, this sliding second, when he suddenly came back from a long boring day, wiggling himself out of his shoes before he came walking towards you.
it became a slight habit of yours to hug whenever one of you would meet the other so scaramouche didn't think too much of it, he was actually looking quite forward to cuddle with you, so when he finally reached his desired destination, you backed away.
"lets not."
his brow raised almost immediately with his eyes lightly scrunched together in irritation, "lets not .. what?"
his voice had an annoying edge, the one you knew far too well. Sometimes scaramouche involuntarily spoke like that, he didn't even mean to come off as rude but it was a natural thing laced in his tone.
"i don't want a hug, thank you for the kind offer though."
the dazed look of bewilderment on his face was adorable, you felt bad for even finding it cute in the first place as scaramouche continued to tilt his head to the side, rambling in a low murmur.
"i don't buy it, you're the one who can't get enough of my hugs so what are you planning this time?"
his arms crossed around his body, a smirk of his brought out a sense of mischief he was way too good at, a fleeting thought of innocent fun.
in that moment he closed the distance to you almost completely, his eyes piercing daggers into your soul when he spoke once again.
"can you hug me now or what, i don't have all day for this."
the click of his tongue was all it took you to understand that he had figured you out yet again. in all honesty, you didn't know what you expected in the first place.
with a giggle announcing itself out of your throat, you quickly gathered him in your arms, nuzzling him into your warm chest.
scaramouche returned your call and embraced you back with his arms tightly clamped around your body, the pressure applied behind it made it difficult for you to breathe, he was practically clamping onto you.
in that moment you noticed how his breathing was erratic and uneven as well, as if for one tiny second, he really did think he had done something to pain you, something to lose you.
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©2022 anantaru do not share, copy, translate
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las-lus · 9 months
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Aziraphale lied Theory
First of all, this theory is not mine, its from @/doubleskk on Twitter and can be found HERE. Go show them some love! It's in Portuguese, so I'll do my best to translate it - blue texts are my personal additions!
This season, we have something very clear in Aziraphale's development arc: is his relationship with LIE. He lied to protect Job's children, and he lied he had performed a miracle to make Nina and Maggie fall in love. That's not counting other little lies, sprinkled throughout the season here and there.
We keep seeing Crowley say "I'm a demon, I lie", but in the big finale, we have Crowley saying the truth - the big truth, the one he has been avoiding for 6 thousand years.
All of this was to set the stage for the biggest lie of all: the lie he had to tell Crowley to fend him off and protect him.
When Metatron goes to buy the coffee, he asks Nina if people ask for death, as the name of her shop is "Give me a coffee, or give me death". What if that name is an allegory for the actual conversation between Metatron and Aziraphale?
Aziraphale may have been threatened. Either Azira goes back to heaven (coffee), or he and Crowley would have their existence erased from the Book of Life (death). So, to protect Crowley, Aziraphale had to invent a lie to make sure he got away. The Book of Life was namedropped a couple of times in the show, a Chekhov's gun that never went off - Neil is too good of a writer for that.
And Aziraphale knew that Crowley would be pissed if he agreed to go back to Heaven after everything that happened, and he knew that Crowley would never accept being an angel again. "But rescuing me makes him so happy" - Aziraphale had to make sure Crowley wouldn't realize he needed saving.
That's why he knew exactly what to say to mess with Crowley.
At 41:14 of episode 6, when Azira starts telling the (alleged) lie to Crowley, he becomes all flustered, moving his hands from side to side and stammering, SAME PATTERN as when he lies to the angels about having done the Nina and Maggie fall in love, in episode 2.
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[This part really works better with 2 videos side by side, which you cannot do on tumblr, so if you want you can check them out here]
The sequence of him talking to Metatron at the table is nothing more than an enactment of his lie. The conversation didn't go like that, Aziraphale made everything up.
And when Crowley declares himself, Aziraphale starts shaking his head in despair: not now, don't tell me that now.
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He also looks out the window as soon as the confession starts, as if he knows Metraton was watching him outside.
Then there's the kiss, Aziraphale falters for a moment, but he has to keep up with the lie and he knows he has to hurt Crowley on purpose. And after Crowley leaves, Aziraphale is MUST recover in seconds, because Metatron is coming back. Also notice that when Metatron comes back, he doesn't ask if Crowley agreed to go back to heaven or not. He just sends a "How did he take it?"
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That is, there was never any choice, and for Metatron Aziraphale was only going to break the news that he was leaving. And Aziraphale had to invent a lie to the inmates to make sure Crowley stayed away from him.
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immajustvibehere · 7 months
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Touch Starved Arthur x fem!touchy Reader (Part 2)
Pairing: hh!Arthur Morgan x fem!Reader (fluffly)
Part1 here!
summary: Arthur takes you and Jack out camping for two nights. Both of you have to battle your feelings for each other until you finally....
warnings: one bed trope, fluff, domestic bliss
6000 words
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In the manner of Arthur’s approach, you knew he was up to something. His big hands rested on his gun belt, his expression was casual. His attempt to appear relaxed was almost perfect. You weren’t fooled so easily, though. By the smug grin that started to appear on your face as Arthur came closer, he understood that you had sensed his unease from a mile away. Your intuition was exceptional, and Arthur silently cursed himself for his own transparency. And suddenly, there were his subtle tells…the scratching of his neck, the scrunching of his nose, the restlessness of his fingers caressing the leather of the belt.
"Hey, what's up?", you asked and propped your head up with your elbow resting on the table.
"Uhm...I have a proposition to make", Arthur awkwardly sat down at the table. Thankfully, barely anyone else was around to witness this encounter. The sun hadn’t risen yet and people were only slowly crawling out of their beds. In fact, Arthur still saw the remnants of sleep in your features but the steaming mug of coffee in front of you suggested that you were diligently combating it.
"I'm all ears."
Arthur couldn’t help but detect the playful undertone in your voice. You had grown more comfortable around each other the last few days and weeks and some banter and teasing were commonplace by now, particularly in the presence of others. But when you found yourselves alone, which hadn’t really happened since last time, you’d feel like there was a more genuine connection and care for each other than either of you would normally let on.
"Ya can say no if ya don't want to but-...well, I already talked to Abigail. She said she was fine with it", Arthur started. You had no clue what he was on about, but he pressed on, "I suggested we take out Jack for a night or two. The boy needs to see something aside this patch of land and I thought...if you would wanna tag along? You know, I was fine fishing with him but I'm not sure if I'd be any good at the other stuff."
"Yes, of course", you immediately replied. Arthur wasn't sure why he had expected a rejection or a dismissal that he was stupid to suggest such a thing. You actually looked pleasantly surprised about the idea.
You smiled: "It's not just Jack, you know? I haven't left camp since we moved here, so I'll get to see some of the country too!"
"Okay, sure", Arthur said, still somewhat in surprise about what you had just agreed to. But his surprise soon gave way to a sense of anticipation, especially when he noticed enthusiasm. He couldn’t supress a warm chuckle, evidently relieved that everything had worked out.
You briefly discussed the logistics, and Arthur settled on a plan: a night between Dewberry Creek and Ringneck Creek for the first stop, followed by, if Jack was up for it, a night in a room at the Rhodes Saloon.
The following day, you were all packed up. Your horse carried a rolled-up tent, large enough to accommodate the three of you. Jack rode with Arthur, he was the experienced rider after all and would be much greater use in keeping the child from sliding off the horse. It was a fine day, the morning sun was veiled behind some clouds, offering a respite from the usual stifling heat. Rain wasn’t to be expected, the clouds looked like they would clear sooner or later.
For the ride, Jack was dead silent for ten minutes at a time but then asked any question he could come up with. Arthur appreciated your willingness to respond, particularly when faced with Jack’s more challenging inquiries that needed to be tailored for a child’s understanding. Arthur was outright impressed at your skill in addressing his questions, and kept silent, even if Jack wanted his view on something specifically.
It was a smooth ride. Once you had passed the first creek you kept looking for an ideal spot to build your camp. You watched happily how Arthur pretended to discuss the area with Jack, granting him the final say in where to put up the tent. Arthur was responsible for the tent while you went off with Jack to look for firewood. When you returned, the tent had been putt up and Arthur had already gotten out the fishing gear.
"Are we fishing again?", Jack asked with curiously.
"Well, we gotta eat something", Arthur answered.
"But fishing's boring!" Jack said back and Arthur chuckled warmly. The last time he took the boy fishing, it was anything but uneventful, though he understood that a four-year-old wasn't so keen on standing still and waiting.
You squatted in front of Jack: "Why don't you take your toys with you to the water? You can play and Arthur and I'll do the boring waiting."
"Mh, okay."
You walked over to Ringneck Creek. Arthur settled on the same spot he had been to while fishing with Javier a while back. It had a good overlook of the place, so Jack could play in the distance, while still being in eye- and earshot. You and Arthur sat down next to each other, not saying anything and prepping the fishing rod. Even when there were no words exchanges, both of you felt comfortable in each other’s presence. Arthur felt your eyes on him as he pierced a tiny bit of cheese through the hook and handed the rod to you.
“The fish get cheese for lunch? That’s mighty fine, don’t you think?”, you joked.
“This cheese? It has been mouldy for days now. It won’t do us any good. But for fish? The stinker, the better”, Arthur explained and added in a mumble, “Or so I’ve heard…”
You both threw out your line and before you quipped: “So you keep your mouldy cheese in your satchel with the rest of your food?”
Arthur watched the rings expanding around his line, then swallowed quickly before looking you in the eye. Not very convinced he answered: “No…?”
He had expected a lesson on proper food hygiene, but you only grinned cheekily: “Glad I took care of food for this trip. But you really shouldn’t do that, you know? Next time you leave camp for more than a day, I’ll pack you something.”
“Ya don’t have to do that, really”, Arthur replied out of politeness, but the idea of you walking up to him with a sandwich to take on his journeys sent tingles to his chest.
“Mh. I insist”, you said, “I’ll have to take care of you if your stomach goes mad, so I’d rather prevent that. Not that I wouldn’t like to take care of you. Don’t you never keep an injury or sickness a secret in front of me, got it?”
“Yes ma’am”, Arthur said, “You sound like Miss Grimshaw, it’s good yer away from camp for a while”, Arthur joked. Deep down, he knew that you didn’t want to control him, but that you sincerely cared for his well-being. Something Arthur couldn’t quite understand. Of course, he would do the same for you – but that’s different because he had already figured out that he liked your attention more than anyone else. No, that he liked you more than anyone else. Arthur got a little lost in his own thoughts. He wasn’t yet entirely sure about his feelings for you. Mainly because he wasn’t sure how you felt. You were so kind and caring for everyone in the gang, he sadly doubted that he was anything special.
“I missed spending some time with you. Sorry that it’s so hard to sneak away from camp”, you said after a while, bringing Arthur back to reality.
“Doesn’t matter”, Arthur mumbled. He was embarrassed that he felt his cheeks getting warm, “We got away now, didn’t we? I feel almost bad that I take up so much of yer time.”
“Please don’t”, you laughed, looking at the man next to you with a smile.
“I think I saw Sean shed a tear when he heard that you’d be away from camp for two days”, Arthur mentioned.
“Yeah. I think he’s sweet on me”, you said so casually, that Arthur was caught off guard, staring at you in disbelieve.
Arthur cleared his throat before he slowly said: “I thought he and Karen…?”
“Well, Karen is good for one thing”, you said with an ambiguous smile, not meaning serious offence with those words, “I’m good for another.”
From the distance, you heard Jack calling for ‘uncle Arthur’. Arthur sighed with a smile and handed you his finishing rod.
“Yer okay to watch that?”, he asked.
“Sure, go ahead”, you encouraged him.
Jack wanted Arthur’s help to balance on a dead tree. It was wholesome to see how Arthur helped him up on the trunk and then held his hand so he would have an easier time balancing. Then the boy would sit on Arthur’s shoulders and break a smooth looking branch from a tree, using it to play swords fighting with Arthur. You knew that Arthur was gentle with Jack and compared to some men in the gang, even to John if you were honest, he was doing a great job. Still, you hadn’t dreamt that he'd be ready to take on a whole swords fight, pretending to get stabbed when Jack’s twig poked his leg. You noticed Arthur’s stolen glances in your direction. It was as if he wanted to make sure you were watching, though you didn’t have the impression that he only played along to impress you. Arthur seemed to genuinely enjoy it.
“Caught anything yet?”, Arthur’s voice woke you up from your daydreams when he walked up to you after a while.
“No…”, you answered and admitted, “I was a little distracted.”
“Ain’t blamin’ ya. We gave you a hell of a show”, Arthur said and took his spot next to you again. Luckily, a few fish bit later on and by the time you walked back to your tent, a fire could be built and the fish were grilled. A lot of time had passed, and the sun was already low in the sky. Jack demanded to be read to from his favourite book. After you had read a few pages and Jack had settled in to listen to some more, you handed the book to Arthur. He had been busy with stoking the fire and cleaning the grit, so he was a little caught off guard by the action.
“What am I supposed to do with that?”, he asked.
“Read to the boy”, you answered with a grin.
“Why can’t you?”, Arthur asked, his eyebrows raised in wonder.
“My throat is starting to feel sore”, you lied so obviously, that even Jack could have seen through it, “besides; I want someone to read to me too.”
Arthur considered the situation for a moment before giving in. The last time he read a book to someone…well, he wasn’t sure. Was it to Jamie when he was still a little boy or to Isaac? Did he ever even read out to Isaac? Arthur was prompted into opening the book when you suddenly snuggled up to him. But that alone made him lose his voice for a moment, so he had to collect himself before starting to read.
You loved how raspy Arthur’s voice would get when he was nervous, but it soon smoothed out and he had barely read for ten minutes when you had to stop him, because Jack had fallen asleep.
“’s barely even dark…”, Arthur commented after he had carried the boy to his bedroll in the tent.
“He did have an eventful day”, you said, and Arthur had to agree. The bottle of whiskey Arthur had brought was soon opened up and half was gone by the time you could make out the first stars in the sky. A lot of your conversation was just recollecting the day or commenting on happenings on the last few days, but after some silence, Arthur started a new conversation.
"Maybe, if ya told me what the other men ask you to do, I'd feel less a fool for asking ya fer something", Arthur suggested. The undertone of his voice revealed curiosity, but he had tried to keep that intent hidden. You were surprised that he remembered what you had talked about the last time it was just the two of us.
"You're unbelievable!", you exclaimed and giggled so light-heartedly. Arthur's heart melted when he saw the crinkles around your eyes. "You just want the gang's gossip!", you accused him.
"No! I'm just sayin'", Arthur shrugged with a smile, "It would really help a lot."
You looked at him, his blue-greenish eyes staring right back at you. You were an avid eye-contact holder, it was required for your role in the gang. But no pair of eyes ever compared to Arthur's. It was his turn to catch your gaze wandering to his lips, he also noticed how your eyes fluttered, when they looked up again, and then briefly away, as if you considered something.
"Fine. I'll tell you some. But I won't tell you who asked me for what."
"Sure."
"Mhhh...it's not the craziest stuff, if you’re expecting that. Most men like when I play with their hair. Or head scratches. I told you I was good at them! Someone likes it when I feed them. Like...you know...we go pick some berries and I feed them. It can be really,...domestic, I suppose. But then it becomes a lot of fun because we try to throw the berries into each other mouths, trying to catch them. It’s great..."
You got slightly embarrassed. When you spend time with other men from the gang, you always tried to give them an experience that made them happy. Some of it was oddly intimate. It didn't bother you much, but now, speaking about it with Arthur, you somehow started to worry that you'd be worth less in his eyes. Just because you have done those things with his friends. It wasn't like you slept with them. No, none, with very few exceptional instances, have ever been inappropriate.
You were silent for a while, those thoughts taking over quickly. And yet, what should it matter? It’s just Arthur, it was okay if he knew that side of you.
You sighed deeply, still finding Arthur’s eyes glued to your lips.
"Some of them like to show off to me. It's real stupid stuff. Like 'look how quick I can draw' or 'check out this piece of wood I whittled'. I suppose these are just things they are mildly proud at...but embarrassed to show someone. I...like that, though. It's really cute and reveals something about the person. There is always something to praise or enjoy about it. And they really appreciate it."
Arthur stared into the fire, nodding his head slowly.
After a while, he started with: "I ehrm-..." Then he pulled out his journal.
"It's nothing special either...", he flipped through some pages, only to reveal a double-sided sketch of Clemen's Point. A beautiful sketch, well-observed with depth and detail. You knew Arthur kept a journal – you never knew he drew in it! And from all the sketches the other men had ever shown you, most of them could have been done better by Jack, this was honestly impressive.
"Arthur-"
"I know, 's silly", and he was about to close the journal when you snatched it out of his hand and placed it in your lap. Not daring to flip the page but studying the sketch in front of you.
"Are you kidding? It's fucking amazing."
When Arthur looked at you in disbelieve, you doubled down: "Fuck you, man. I can't even pick out things I like to praise because the whole damn thing's just-!"
"Yer teasing me..."
"Am not! When someone shows me a drawing, I often have to guess, like ‘Oh, that’s a nice bison you drew.’ And then they correct me and go like ‘It’s supposed to be a dog.’ and we have a good laugh about it…but this…Is that Dutch's horse?", you asked, pointing at the little white stallion. Arthur confirmed it. You started to point at things, accurately identifying what it was. John's tent, the chicken coop, even the figure in the distance, that only was a vague outline of a person, you identified as if you had been there when it was drawn.
"You have more drawings in there?", you asked.
"Sure. But- wait", he took the journal back, carefully skipping the pages where he had sketched you, which had happened suspiciously often recently, and only showing you the landscapes and animals. You never expected that Arthur had an eye for things like that. A doe was captured perfectly in its shy manner. A funny looking cabin, a crooked tree. For all those things, Arthur stopped and took his time to draw them. It was stunning. You felt like he had given you a better idea of what sort of a man he actually is. To say you liked that version of him, was an understatement and you started to realise this with every sketch of ducks or fish he presented to you.
"When you find someone, someone you really like. And start a family...you could draw and sell those pictures, you know?"
Arthur was shocked. Firstly, why you knew about his wish to start a family, and secondly, that you suggested his drawings are nearly good enough for anyone to pay money for.
"Y/n", Arthur lamented, almost with a painful voice. As if you were that naive girl that had no idea about how life works. That there could never be a family for him, never a different life than shooting and robbing to get to some money.
"Have you ever painted? Like with colour and a paintbrush?", you interrupted.
"Ain't worth it. I'd be no good with colour. And it's too expensive."
"When's your birthday?", you asked out of the blue. You were determined. If you had to work your ass off for it or drop to your knees in front of Miss Grimshaw, you'd get this man a paintbrush.
"No", Arthur said firmly.
"Come on!", you quipped.
"Stop it. It's just a stupid thing I do to pass some time it ain't-"
"But I love them!", you interrupted, "I really do. Every single one you showed me."
"Clearly, something ain’t right in your head then", Arthur joked and put his journal away.
"You are a charming man, Mr. Morgan," you teased back, bumping into his shoulder.
As if your words had confirmed Arthur's accusation, he comically tapped your forehead with his index finger: "Really messed up, aren't you?"
"Why?", you said, switching gears and skilfully capturing Arthur's finger that had went for another tap. It took both of your hands to open Arthur's hand, not that he resisted, but his hands were huge. And with your guidance, Arthur's hand cupped your cheek. "Is it because I like to spend time with you? Do you think one has to be mad to enjoy that? Because if you do think that...I have to give you ten reasons why you are wrong."
Arthur barely listened to your words. His senses were hyper focused on his hand which was touching your cheek. Warm and soft. Not smooth like a perfect hide, but skin isn't perfect. Hell, his hand must be mighty uncomfortable. It was calloused, beaten up, scarred. There was no rational reason why you would snuggle your face into it like it was a pillow you readied for a night's sleep.
With pleasure you watched how often he blinked, how flustered he became, how his hand twitched in excitement under your touch. As careful as you were some butterfly, Arthur’s thumb dared to caress your cheek. The movement was so small, it was like he didn’t even want you to notice that you he had dared to do that. Somehow, this rough and hardened outlaw was a real sensitive guy. A sensitive guy who made your stomach flutter.
"I'll head to bed and join Jack, you coming too?", you asked, guiding Arthur's hand into your lap and holding in lightly with your two hands.
"Imma...t-take care of the fire a little longer", Arthur answered with coarse voice, his throat entirely dried up.
"M'kay", you smiled and stood up without letting go of Arthur's hand. Halfway in the process of standing up you halted, pressing a light kiss on Arthur's cheek and whispered good night, before finally letting go and walking off to the tent.
Though you were exhausted, it was tricky to sleep. You listened to Arthur who was still attending the fire, walking up and down, whispering to the horses and occasionally took a swig from the bottle. Jack slept at the side of the tent, you had taken the spot in the middle. No matter how long it felt until sleep finally took over, Arthur crawled into the tent ten minutes later, only to find out that you had messed with the sleeping set-up. It wasn’t the way he had arranged it, namely, a very inequal distribution of blankets and ‘pillows’ (rolled-up jackets or other garments). Arthur had planned to spend the night without a blanket, so you and Jack had two. But you had given up one of yours, which neatly waited on Arthur’s bedroll for him.
“She ain’t gonna make this easy for me”, Arthur thought, before lying down.
-
“Uncle Arthur!”, Jack squatted next to the man who was still fast asleep. Well, until the boy started to shake him with all his might, though it barely rattled the man.
“Aunt y/n told me to wake you”, Jack smiled innocently. Arthur was trying to grasp the situation. For a fleeting moment, he thought there was danger nearby. Then he had been confused about why Jack was there. Only slowly, as Jack left the tent and the rays of sunshine hit his face, he remembered that he had went out camping with you and the boy. And clearly, he had overslept.
Arthur crawled out of the tent and stood up with a groan, stretching his tired limbs. The smell of coffee had reached his nose before he looked down to see Jack walking towards him, a half-filled cup in his hands.
“For you”, he exclaimed. Arthur took the mug and mumbled his thanks, looking up a little to finally lay eyes on you. The fire was on, the percolator boiling with water, and he saw that you were in the process of readying a little pan for some eggs you had apparently taken from camp.
“Good morning”, you said with a big smile.
“Sorry I overslept…”, Arthur grumbled, sitting down by the fire.
“Nothing to be sorry for. I’m glad you could catch up on some sleep.”
Breakfast was nice. You scrambled some eggs, garmented them with herbs you had collected earlier and re-filled Arthur’s mug. Jack was happy after eating a few bites and then playing with his toys in the distance. Arthur and you discussed the rest of the day and decided you would take your time, see if Jack was up for a ride and a stroll through Rhodes and spending another night at the Saloon.
Later, Jack helped you with washing the dishes at the creek. You managed to talk him into throwing a wet rag at Arthur, which he answered by throwing the rag back at you. This started a game of dogde or catch the rag. You laughed a lot. By mid-day you were on your horses, carefully navigating the shadows to escape the relentless sun. After one very slow hour of riding, with breaks whenever Jack discovered something interesting on the ground that needed further investigation, you arrived in Rhodes. After restocking on groceries, you made your way to the saloon, finding it relatively quiet and peaceful still.
“Can I help you, folks?”, the bartender asked, leaning on the counter.
“A room, please”, Arthur stated briefly. The bartender considered you for a moment, his eyes wandered from Arthur to you and finally your hand that rested protectively on Jack’s shoulder.
“We have a special deal for families. Spacious room, enough beds and a discount on a bath”, the bartender explained, opening the ledger where he kept track of which rooms were taken.
“Sounds great!”, you chimed in happily before Arthur could do as much as open his mouth.
“There you go. Walk up the stairs behind there, first door on the right”, the bartender handed you the keys, “Just let me know when you want the water heated up.”
“Will do, thanks!”, you answered. Your free arm was quickly intertwined with Arthur, who was taken by surprise. He stiffened a little but walked off with you and Jack rather convincingly.
“Whoa! This bed is huge!”, exclaimed Jack when you walked into the room.
“Ain’t for you though, little man”, Arthur chuckled. The room was equipped with a bed that was big enough to fit a couple and a toddler, but there was still a children-sized one in the corner. Arthur noticed how your arm slipped away from his as you entered the room, dropping some of your luggage onto the floor.
“Luxurious, isn’t it?”, you smiled. It was definitely better than the rooms you’d get in Valentine and probably even cleaner than the other ones the saloon had to offer. Jack was settling in, testing how bouncy his mattress was and unpacking his toys while Arthur walked up to you, clearing his throat.
“Yer fine with sharin’ a bed?”, he asked.
You raised an eyebrow: “We shared a tent last night, and that was a much tighter fit, wouldn’t you say so?”
“I guess…”, Arthur felt a little helpless. Sharing a bed felt more domestic and intimate than sharing the same tent. Also, Jack wouldn’t be all snuggled up to you, but in his own bed at some distance. Frankly, Arthur was excited. You watched his frown, not quite sure if its origin was because of discomfort or simple nervosity.
“Are you okay with that? I could bring my bedroll and-“, you wanted to suggest, but Arthur was quick to interrupt you: “I just didn’t know if you were fine with it. I don’t want ya to feel uncomfortable.”
“Don’t worry about me”, you smiled, “I’ll go down and ask for a bath. Abigail will be glad I we bring the boy back cleaner than he was before.”
Arthur was alone in the room for nearly an hour, before you and Jack appeared with damp hair, smelling of soap. It was decided that Arthur would also make use of the warmed-up water, and as he went off to the bathroom, you and Jack set your plan in motion.
By the time Arthur returned he was met with a sight that initially puzzled him. The two of you had transformed the little corner with Jack’s bed using the limited resources available to you, creating a makeshift fort out of pillows and blankets. Jack’s small bed had been turned into a cozy cave of sorts, sheltered from the outside world to the point where you needed a lantern to read a book within.
Arthur didn’t even see you at first, he only heard Jack’s bubbly giggle and you shushing him. For a moment, he wasn’t sure if he was supposed to play along and pretend that he didn’t know where you were…like some sort of hide-and-seek. But he decided against it, instead sighing happily, and sitting down on the big bed.
“I can hear ya, ya know?”, he said gently.
“No you can’t!”, Jack said back.
“Should have built it bigger, doesn’t look like I’ll fit underneath there”, Arthur commented. Now, you peeked out. Arthur saw how you opened a mouth, but something stopped you for a moment. His hair was wet and slicked back. He hadn’t even bothered putting on his shirt, but instead only wore his pants and union suit underneath. Hell, he hadn’t even bothered to button it all the way up. It hugged his muscles perfectly. You knew he was in good shape, but you hadn’t expected THIS.
“Shouldn’t have grown so big then”, you finally said, a fine blush on your cheeks.
As the evening advanced, you had read several chapters to Jack, lulling him into slumber. You then quietly slipped into the bed beside Arthur. After some casual conversation which both of you skilfully and awkwardly used to get closer to each other, Arthur asked something that had been on his mind for a while: "What do you get out of it? All the nurturing and caring for everyone in the gang? Has any one of them ever done right by you?"
"Well...I have a place to stay and sleep. I don't have to worry too much about earning money. And I like making others happy."
Arthur didn't like that. A place to sleep and food, he felt like, shouldn't be things you had to earn by listening to the complaints of others all the time.
"All you get is hearing the troubles of some dirty, foolish outlaws. Ain’t really a life, is it?"
"Some make me happy too", you admitted, quietly. You realised how Arthur tensed up slightly.
"I get to know y'all. Don't you think that's a privilege? For a woman my age? Others can't simply walk around in the street, offer some hand-holding a listenin' and expect this to pay for their meals."
"You want to do this for the rest if your life?", Arthur asked. You scanned his body, focusing on the dark hair that grew on his chest.
"No", you whispered, and gently, you put your hand on his chest. You felt his heart, no, you saw how it beat, the skin of his chest swiftly moving in an up and down movement.
Arthur...was different than the others. You didn't know if it was that there was an actual difference, or if it just felt differently. But the way he treated you, the way he held you...it was so gentle. Like it was touch meant for a lifetime. The others were slightly more prudish, because they knew they had a couple of hours with you and maybe they'd be shot and die the next day. Somehow...not Arthur. When he pulled you closer into a hug, it was always the same, as if it was a welcome back, a coming home. There was no holding onto it, because he sorts of knew you would always be there. And you wanted it to be like that too. Because you, as tricky it was to admit, had feelings for this man.
Now it was you who caught Arthur staring, staring at the unsure movements your lips made as you searched for something to say. Maybe to explain what this all meant to you.
"Do you think it's ridiculous, what I do?", you asked. You wanted to know Arthur's opinion, truly.
"What? No."
"Really?"
"Hell, we'd be a bunch of degenerates if ya didn't keep us together. Yer ignoring Micah. For good reasons, I gotta say, and look what a slimy no-good he is. We'd be all like that if it wasn't for you", Arthur said. There was humour in his voice, but he meant what he had said. You smiled slightly.
"I wish I had come to you earlier", Arthur said.
"We are making up for the lost time, aren't we?", you said and leaned into him. The gesture seemed so familiar that Arthur wrapped his arms around you with barely any thought. Arthur watched your fingers as they trailed through his hair on his chest, never resting somewhere for long but tracing lines from his collar bones to where his beard started on his neck.
“Do you mind?”, you whispered, your fingers resting on a button of his suit.
Arthur subtly shook his head and watched how you unbuttoned one button after another. You had him slip out of the sleeves so the suit could be pulled further down, now exposing his entire abdomen to you.
There was no way he could hide his hitched breath. Your touch tickled pleasantly as your fingers explored his skin. He was enjoying those careful attentions, you'd trace around bruises and old scars, Arthur was focused on how it felt differently, the abused flesh and the scar tissue that had lost sensitivity. He noticed, either for the first time ever, or he had forgotten in the meantime, how ticklish he was on his side, under the ribs. He had no urge to laugh, but his body reacted to your touch differently, squirming when your skin brushed over his. Arthur noticed that you took a liking to those reactions, because he felt the corner of your mouth, which was pressed into his arm as you leaned into him, curl into a smile.
It was quiet. Sometimes the yells of a bar fight could be heard or someone hammering on the piano, but that aside, it was only Jack's silent snores that disturbed the peace.
"Arthur?", you whispered and sat up.
"Mhm?", Arthur looked sleepy. It wasn't even that late yet, but something about the situation was making him sleepy in the best way. You said nothing more. You only put your hand on his cheek, briefly caressing his stubble.
"Would it be okay if I kissed you?", you asked.
For a few moments, Arthur's mind went completely blank. He only breathed a shaky "Yeah" and your lips brushed his already.
Instantly, Arthur's hands pulled you in closer. You were close, lips brushing, breathing each other's air. It was all you needed, before both of you finally pressed into each other.
You knew Arthur was gentle, but this sort of tenderness took even you by surprise. And Arthur- well, he was pretty sure he was dreaming. When was the last time he had kissed a woman? No, when was the last time he kissed a woman and felt like his heart was about to explode in his chest. He had craved this ever since the night you spent together. And by the way your hands wandered to his hair, fingers running through his strands, he knew you had wanted it just as much.
It was a soft kiss and both of you looked sort of surprised when it had ended. Arthur sat up slightly and pulled you on his lap, which earned him a happy grin. You started to pepper the man in front of you with kisses. Super light, as if a breeze was brushing his forehead, his cheek, his nose, under his ear, the corner of his lips. You had lost count, stirred on by a blushing Arthur underneath you.
"D-don't ya think that's enough?", Arthur said, kind of trying to dodge your kisses, but not really.
"Nope. You deserve this!", you said, but when you headed for his nose, Arthur managed to turn it into a proper kiss again.
Then you sank on his chest, lying on top of him with his arms wrapped around you.
For Arthur, this was a weird feeling at first. But he loved how your weight pressed him down into the mattress and how your hands always found a piece of his body to caress and tickle. He was embarrassed about how dry his mouth and throat became again, all of a sudden. He was convinced you realized how often he had to swallow and how hesitant he still was to move his hands any further down than the small of your back. Though if you noticed, you were very understanding. You clearly heard his heart hammering in his chest and waited patiently for it to calm down before speaking again.
"Can I tell you something silly?”, you said, lost in thoughts.
"Sure"
"I liked it when the bartender referred to us as family."
"Me too", and his hold on you became ever so tighter.
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-
@eyelovie @t3rritorial-piss1ngs @daenerysluvrr @cookiesandcreaminthetardis @tem60 @freshoutthewomb2 @itswormtrain @ineedyoubadly @lea-khena @anawkwardartistandgamer @pheesupremacy @tahitiansiguesss @c2ss1e @alyxhasonsocks @kagemaruzest69 @agaritas @lonesome-ranger @joelmillers-gf
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kamiversee · 2 months
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➶-͙˚ ༘✶ 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁*𝘾𝙆 𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏
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✧.* CHAPTER 15 || The New Information
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[ { SYPNOSIS } ] ➤ A tale in which Gojo Satoru blackmails you into seducing a list of people to clear his debt. Sounds easy enough, right?
[ { CHAPTER CONTENT } ] ➤ language, a bit of angst, and fluff.
[ { WORD COUNT } ] ➤ 4.2k
[ { PAIRINGS } ] ➤ jjk men x f!reader. gojo x f!reader. geto x f!reader. toji x f!reader. choso x f!reader. sukuna x f!reader. nanami x f!reader.
[ [ chapters mlist } ]
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——"PLEASE GO AWAY," YOU SIGHED desperately in response to the man behind you as if your words would make him disappear.
That laugh of his you once found pleasant but now find annoying is heard. "Relax, sweets. I'm not here to bother you." Gojo hums.
You don't turn around to face him just yet, "Is Shoko here?"
"Nope." He replies simply.
Your brows furrow, "Then how'd you get in?"
"You should really check your text messages, love."
There's a pang in your chest at the sound of that specific pet name. "Don't call me that." You say through slightly gritted teeth.
Gojo scoffs, "Why?"
"Cause' you don't mean it." You explain simply, "You're just saying shit just to say it and it's baseless, it's fake."
"It's not, actually." He argues.
"Whatever. Why are you here?"
He diverts, "Was that Choso I just saw?"
"None of your business." You tell him. "Why are you here?"
"It actually is my business since you wouldn't even know the guy without me," Gojo argues.
You scoff, annoyance is stirring within you. "I might've."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah," You whisper, your voice solemn. "I might've even had a chance with him..."
"You wanted one?" He scoffs again, "Seriously?"
"Yes Gojo, yes I did."
"Well he's still on the list so you can-"
"No, I can't." You cut off, "I can't get with him Gojo, you know that."
"What's stopping you from getting with him?" He asks in a confused manner.
You think you lose it after he asks such a stupid question. You slowly turn around to face the man and see him standing in front of your room, resting against the doorframe.
"Don't ask me stupid questions like that. Why are you here?" You voice out sternly.
It's clear that you're both tired and upset and Gojo even notices the way you're leaning back against the door to hold yourself up.
He raises an eyebrow, "Did you and him just..." Both of his eyebrows then raise as he makes his own assumptions. "Damn, three in one day? Are you becoming a whore?" Gojo gasps dramatically.
Your face twists up and you scowl, "What?"
"I mean, first you sucked Suguru off in his car, then you went and got pounded by Mr. Fushiguro, and then you somehow made time to sleep with Choso as well?" He assumes, "Shit, I'm impressed."
"What the hell? No, that's not what happened."
"So... why're your legs shaking so much?" Gojo asks with a concerned tilt of his head.
You glance down at yourself and then scoff. "Mr. Fushiguro has a big dick, that's why."
"Uhuh..." Gojo hums, unamused.
You then look back up to him. "And how did you know about me and Suguru...?"
"He told me."
"Of course he did."
Gojo shakes his head, "Y'know, if I keep paying you for every time you sleep with him, I'm gonna go broke."
"Not my problem."
"But it literally is."
"Where do you get all this money from anyways?"
"I have my sources." Gojo shrugs.
You blink. "Okay... Well, you agreed to pay me, so-"
"I didn't agree to you becoming a whore." Gojo claims. You can tell there's something about the whole thing that's bothering him.
"That's what I've been from the start though," You snap back, "Isn't it?"
He pauses. Those blue eyes of his simply stare at you from across the room and you notice you've got him stuck.
After a moment of thought, he speaks again. "Maybe. But the list is different..." Gojo says.
You roll your eyes, "How?"
"You're only supposed to fuck someone and get paid once."
"If that's the case, why'd you agree on allowing me to fuck someone and get paid more than once?" You ask with an innocent tilt of your head.
There's a vein popping out along the man's jawline and his eyes are low, "Cause' I didn't think you'd turn Suguru into your little fuck buddy."
"It was his idea, y'know." You blurt out. "He's the one who suggested the whole thing."
"So?" Gojo blinks, "You're the one who keeps meeting up with him."
"I need the money." You shrug.
"Is that the only reason you keep hooking up with him?" Gojo questions, chuckling a little. His distaste is obvious and written all over his face, "Cause' you need the money??"
"Yeah." You hum.
"Liar."
"What other reason would I have?"
"You're doing it to piss me off."
You laugh at his words, finding true amusement in the way he thinks everything is about him. "Oh please. I'm sleeping with Suguru because he fucks me well and I'm getting paid for it."
Gojo shrugs, "I could do the same thing."
"Yeah, but I don't like you." You tell him for what feels like the millionth time. "Even thinking about sleeping with you again makes me wanna throw up."
His face twists up in disbelief, "Bullshit."
"It's not."
"Nobody on that list, including Suguru, can fuck you better than me."
You can't help but laugh at the man again, "Mr. Fuhsiguro just did."
"Oh really?" Gojo scoffs.
"Yeah. His dick's bigger than yours too."
"Think I care?"
"Wouldn't be standin' here right now if you didn't."
"I'm actually only here to drop that off," Gojo tells you as he nods his chin toward the nearby counter.
You glance over and spot a few racks of cash designated for you. A pleased hum leaves you before you look back over to Gojo.
An eyebrow is raised at him, "Well, you dropped it off. Shouldn't you be on your way out now?"
"I should but..." Gojo suddenly pulls something out from behind his back. It's the journal you'd been writing in. "We've gotta talk about the stupidness behind writing down the details of the list in this journal of yours." He hums.
Your eyes go wide, "What the hell? Did you go rummaging through my room??"
"Uh, no. Someone left it sitting on their nightstand."
"You'd have to look into my room to see that..."
"I saw you changed your room around and took a peek," Gojo tells you honestly as if it's no big deal.
You don't know why but the fact that he even recognized the change in your bedroom stuck you oddly. Did you like the fact that he noticed? Or did it piss you off that he looked in there to begin with? Perhaps it was a bit of both...
"Okay, stalker much?" You say with an unamused laugh. You then begin to steadily make your way toward the man, your eyes locking onto the journal held in his hands. "Also, I need that back."
Gojo laughs at you and waves the item around, "You need this back? What for? At this point, it's like you're asking for someone to find it and figure everything out."
You lean against the nearby counter and halt yourself, "I-I'm not... I just wanted to keep everything organized."
"This is by far the dumbest way to do so." He comments, pushing himself off the wall and looking down at the journal.
Gojo makes his way over to you, his tall frame standing right in front of you. Those blue eyes of his are down on you, a taunting glint evident within his gaze.
You glare up at him, annoyed by every little thing about him-- his presence, his words, his voice, his stupidly handsome face, that attractive ass smirk he has as he stares at you, and the way his closeness makes you feel all weird inside.
"Just give me the journal and leave. Please?" You request with a sigh.
Gojo puts on this little pout to mock you, "How about no?"
"I thought you said you weren't here to bother me, this is bothering me." You huff.
He chuckles, "Sweets, I'm pretty sure everything I do bothers you." He then leans down to your face, "I bother you."
Your glare is continuous, "You do."
"Exactly so, that statement I made earlier was uh... what was it you said? Oh yeah, baseless." Gojo recalls.
The smirk he has on his face fades away and he leans up from your face. He then holds the journal up, "I'll be keeping this, 'kay?"
Your brows furrow and you instantly shoot a hand up to take the item from him. Your attempt fails as the man shoots his arm further up, extending it and making the journal out of your reach. A groan leaves you before you push up on your toes and continue to reach for it.
Gojo's smirk returns within seconds as he watches you struggle. The man then draws his arm back and you push yourself forward, nearly grabbing ahold of the journal.
Sadly, instead of grabbing it, your wobbly legs only cause you to fumble right into Gojo's chest and knock the two of you over and onto the floor with a thud.
You both groan in unison as you land on top of him, your face smushed against his chest. Gojo's quiet for a second and the two of you remain still for a long moment. He then snickers quietly and you lift your head and scowl at him.
"Fuck, don't look at me like that sweetheart. You're the one who jumped into me." Gojo teases.
You grit your teeth and push yourself up slightly, propping your upper half up with your arms and leaving your legs spread over his crotch. You spot the book loosely placed in his hand and move to grab it.
Gojo's got a steel grip on the item so as you try to take it out of his grasp, your body leans over him and your chest is right in his face while you try taking the journal from him.
You can hear him chuckling at the way you struggle, "Are you doing this on purpose?" Gojo asks.
You blink and look down at him, noticing the way your breasts are all above his face, "N-No." You hum.
The sudden feeling of his slim hands at your waist makes you flinch, "I mean, I'm not complaining... You should stay like this, actually."
For a moment, you almost let yourself get distracted. With his hands on your waist, you realize the journal is no longer in his grasp so you pick the item up off the floor.
"Idiot." You comment snarkily.
Gojo raises a brow before griping onto you tightly and abruptly flipping the two of you over, his larger body looming over yours. As you find yourself laid out on the floor, you keep the book held within your hand as tightly as you can.
You thought that would help you but with the way Gojo's legs were in between your own and the way his hands fly from your waist to your wrists, you steadily realize you have little to no control.
His fingers curl around your wrists and the man tilts his head at you, "C'mon, sweets, you didn't seriously think I was gonna let you take the journal from me that easily?"
You grimace, "Stop it with the pet name."
Gojo leans down to your face, his lips ghosting your own, "Or what?"
You grit your teeth again and stay quiet. What can you say to that when he's over your body like this? Part of you wanted to scream or spit on the man. You think your hatred for Gojo Satoru was at an alarming all-time high and you could feel your anger boiling in your veins.
Quietly, you look directly into his eyes and whisper back a simple, "I hate you so much."
Gojo pulls his face away slightly, "Do you?"
"I do." You hum, "I don't know how many times I have to say it for you to get it through that thick ass skull of yours but-"
Gojo puts a hand over your mouth and you think your eye twitches. "Nah, I get it... I just don't believe you." He whispers and you watch the way his expression sinks again, his eyes saddened.
And god do you hate the way your heart throbs at his stupidly solemn expression. He steadily takes his hand off your mouth and your wrist, sitting up and still hovering over you. He's quick to take the journal from you as he does so.
You'd yet to give up on getting that book back from him so the moment he sits up, you sit up too and push him right back down-- crawling over him, grabbing both of his arms and crossing them over his head while pinning his wrists down and snatching up the journal in one swift motion.
You now sit comfortably on his crotch, pinning his arms down with all of your strength and holding the journal up and far away from him. "Bitch." You utter to him, semi-playfully.
You do not imagine the throb of his cock beneath you in reaction and you scoff at him.
"Holy fuck," A mocking smirk spreads across your face, "You like that shit?"
"The hell are you talking about?" Gojo snaps back.
"Being degraded." You clarify, "You're into that, aren't you?"
"What? No." Gojo lies.
The way you start laughing at him makes his heart throb. "Gojo, I just felt you."
"Felt me what?" He responds plainly through slightly gritted teeth.
"Twitch, idiot."
"I didn't-"
"Yeah, you did." You cut off, smiling teasingly at the man, "You got turned on by me calling you a bitch."
"N-No, I didn't." He stammers.
"Yes, you did!" You say enthusiastically, chuckling afterward as you truly find it humorous. "Fuck, is that what you wanna be Gojo? Hm?" You tease, leaning down to him slightly and whispering, "Wanna be my little bitch?"
You're not sure what came over you all of a sudden since you weren't interested in sleeping with him or providing him any sort of pleasure but... Something about the situation was just oh so amusing to you.
Again, Gojo's cock twitches beneath you and the male feels the slight stiffening in his length. "Fuck you." He curses.
"You want to so badly, don't you?" You say cooingly. "That's why you're really here, right? You're mad that I've been fucking Suguru and not you."
"Tch. No, I'm not. I don't care how many times you fuck him as long as it doesn't cost me every single time." He hums.
You tilt your head, "Really, so knowing that me and Suguru fuck pretty often doesn't bother you?"
"Do you want it to?" Gojo says in full seriousness, the look in his eyes dark.
"What? No." You reply.
"Okay, then stop telling me about it."
"Or what? You'll get pissed off?"
"Yeah, actually."
"Why?"
"Because I..." The man shuts his mouth and turns his head to the side.
You blink, "Because you what, Gojo?"
"Never mind. Get off me." He diverts.
"Make me."
His eyes shift over to you, "We both know I could if I wanted to. I'm being civil right now so, please get off me."
You glare at him a little longer and he slowly turns his head to you. Gojo's gaze on you is a mix of possessiveness and anger. The man looks at you like you belong to him and yet something's bothering him at the same time. Meanwhile, your look down at him is filled with nothing but pure distaste.
The man utters your name for the first time in a while, his voice low and tone deep. "You're not moving... Why?" He asks.
You swallow, unsure of the reasoning behind your still state.
Gojo raises a brow, "Do you..." He scoffs, "Do you need help standing...?"
A flushed and embarrassed warmth spreads across your face as you look off to the side.
"Awww, Mr. Fushiguro really did a number on ya', didn't he?" Gojo teases.
"You're so annoying."
"I'm aware. But, y'know... you'll have to let my wrists go if you want me to help you up." He says.
You shake your head, "Do you think I'm dumb? As soon as I let your wrists go, you're just gonna take the journal from me."
"I am. But that's only because if you keep it, someone's gonna find out."
"Not everyone is nosy like you, Gojo."
"You'd be surprised." He fires back.
You open your mouth to say something else but the sound of your apartment door opening makes both of you go rigid as if you'd been caught doing something you weren't supposed to.
You look up and Gojo angles his head so that he too can see who just came in. To no surprise, Shoko Ieiri enters the apartment with raised eyebrows at the odd sight of you on top of Gojo pinning his wrists down.
"Oh... that's not..." Shoko chuckles lightly, trailing off as she closes the door behind her and stares at the two of you on the floor.
You and Gojo speak in sync. "It's not what it looks like."
Shoko blinks, "Right... sure it isn't... I mean, if I'm interrupting something, I can just leave and come back another time-"
"N-No," You hum, releasing Gojo's wrists and sitting up properly, still on his crotch. "You're not interrupting anything, I just uh... fell."
Gojo moves his hands to your thighs and squeezes them, "Fell into the perfect position, honestly. Shoko you walked in at a bad time, we were totally about to fu-"
"No, we weren't." You cut off, sending him a quick glare.
Shoko giggles at the banter between you two. "Am I missing something? Are you two dating?"
"No." You answer before Gojo gets the chance to.
She raises a brow at you, "Are you suuure?"
"Positive." You say firmly.
She folds her arms and gives you a skeptical look, "I dunno roomie, when I walked in  it looked like you guys were two seconds away from fucking on the floor-"
"We weren't! I swear." You say assuringly.
"Yeah?" Shoko teases, "Then, why're you still on top of him?"
You freeze. There isn't really a good way for you to explain that a professor fucked your brains out before you came home and then you fell on top of Gojo and now you can't stand without help...
"Uhh.." You trail off.
"She's keepin' my cock warm right now." Gojo blurts out spontaneously.
Shoko scrunches up her face, "Gross, are you two actually-"
"Oh my god! No!" You huff, looking down to Gojo, "I'm gonna hurt you."
He bites his lip, "Are you now?"
"You fucking freak..." You whisper, your words only catching his ears.
Gojo then sits up with you shifting into his lap before his hands go to your waist. "You're lucky Shoko's your roommate." He whispers back to you before helping you stand up.
The two of you soon make your way up off the floor and Gojo makes sure to stand slightly in front of you to hide the way your legs are still shaking slightly. The shake wasn't exactly noticeable unless you started walking but it seems like Gojo still wanted to hide it from Shoko anyway.
"So," Shoko hums, again narrowing her eyes at the two of you. "I let you borrow our spare key for one day and you come in bothering my roommate...?" She says playfully, her words directed toward Gojo.
His eyes widen, "I wasn't bothering her!"
"Bullshit," You murmur.
Gojo scoffs at you in response before directing his words to Shoko again, "Anyways, I was just about to leave."
"Were you?" Shoko asks, clearly unconvinced.
The man in front of you nods his head and then glances behind himself and to you, "Don't miss me too much, sweets." He uttered casually with a wink.
You don't respond to him with anything more than your usual glare. With a dramatic sigh at your lack of a reply, Gojo shrugs and heads toward the front door, passing Shoko and teasingly sticking his tongue out at her.
Shoko chuckles at the man before he leaves and she shuts the door behind him.
With a giddy grin on her face, she does this dramatic slow turn around to look at you. "Soooo, are you gonna tell me what's really going on between the two of you."
You're quick to freeze, having quickly tossed all the cash Gojo left on the counter and your journal into your room before Shoko turned around. Now you stand at your bedroom door, your back to the woman and your eyes widened.
"Nothing's going on between us," You hum, tuning your head back to her.
She visibly doesn't believe you. "Are you suuuure?"
You blink, "Shoko... do you want there to be something between me and Gojo?"
The woman scoffs at your words, "You even talk like him now, holy shit. How long have you guys been fooling around?"
"We're not fooling around at all." You sigh.
She folds her arms, "Y'know, you are a shitty liar, sweets." She comments on purpose, having heard the way Gojo used the pet name toward you.
You swallow, "Please don't start..."
Shoko starts walking toward you slowly, "C'monnnn, how long have you guys been fucking?"
You freeze, "H-Huh? What makes you think we're-"
"It's kinda obvious. Just be honest with me." She says sweetly.
"We... We slept together once, Shoko. One time." You tell her, making sure to be very clear with how many times you've been with Gojo.
A smile spreads across her face, "Aww, really?"
"Yeah, why do you look so happy about this??"
"Cause' that idiot does nothing but gush about you and I'm happy to hear he finally got what he wanted." She says with a sigh as she turns to head toward her room.
"He... He gushes about me?" You question softly, turning your body to follow the direction she's going.
You don't know why you're so intrigued by Gojo gushing about you but your curiosity is oddly high.
"Hm?" Shoko pauses and looks at you, "Oh, yeah, all the time."
It would've been nice to know that before the list... "Why didn't you tell me?" You ask.
"Cause' I refuse to give Gojo the easy way out. If he likes you as much as he claims to, he should be able to talk to you himself." She explains, "Instead, the dumbass said something about being scared of women."
"Seriously?"
"Mhm. Like I said, he's an idiot." She shrugs.
A slow nod of your head is given to her, "Right..." You still don't know why but, your curiosity is eating at you now, "So, wait, does he like like me?"
"Like like, as in, does he have a crush on you?" She asks for clarification.
You nod.
"Nah," Shoko responds simply.
The odd well of anticipation you had sunk instantly, "Oh-"
"I'm pretty sure he's like, in love with you," She suddenly blurts out, looking off to the side in thought. She then chuckles as she recalls something, "Yeah, I think it's way more than a crush."
"You're joking right?" You breathe out.
"Nope!" She says enthusiastically. "If you ask him at the right time, and actually give him a chance, I guarantee you he'll confess."
Okay, you'll give Shoko the benefit of the doubt since she doesn't know what you do. She's not privy to the fact that Gojo's selfishly blackmailing you to fuck a list of people. But even so, you can't help but wonder what makes her come to such a conclusion.
For Gojo to be in love with you, he has the worst way of showing it.
Shoko's words only make you scoff and shake your head, "I'll uh, I'll ask him about it one day."
"Oh my god, so you're gonna give him a chance?!" She asks excitedly.
"Uh, no. there's..." You look off to the side, "Someone else I think I have feelings for."
"Ouu, who is it?" Shoko hums, her brows raising.
"Uh, I'll tell you about him another day..."
She chuckles, "Promise?"
"Pinky." You grin.
Both of your pinkys rise to the air and from a distance you pretend to lock your fingers to seal the little promise you just made. The two of you then dip off into your perspective spaces and you're left with your thoughts.
Gojo in love with you? Please. That's the most ridiculous thing you've heard all week. Why would Shoko say such a thing? Aside from today, this was her first time even seeing the two of you interact with one another...
It's odd to you how she could've come to such a conclusion. Maybe there are things she and Gojo have talked about regarding you before you and Gojo started talking. Maybe there's a lot about the guy you don't actually know...
Fuck, why are you thinking about this anyways? Who cares? His being in love with you obviously isn't going to change the situation he's put you in so there's no point in pondering over it.
Instead, you'll refocus yourself on what's really important; Choso Kamo.
He's the guy you want next. Though, you hope the bubbling feelings in your chest won't get in the way of you trying to have sex with him. And even more, you desperately hope that he doesn't have feelings for you.
At least, not yet.
Feelings will bring nothing but complications into the whole thing and you want to avoid them as much as you can. Only until the list is over. Then, you'll move to pursue a relationship with Choso.
Yeah, that sounds like the plan.
What could go wrong?
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GOJO SATORU ✔︎
GETO SUGURU ✔︎
TOJI FUSHIGURO ✔︎
KAMO CHOSO ☐
NANAMI KENTO ☐
??? SUKUNA ☐
??? NAOYA ☐
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jayke0 · 14 days
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Bunk Up
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Summary: Arthur invites you on a hunting trip, but you foolishly forget your tent. No harm done, you can bunk up with him, right?
Rating: nsfw, smut
Warnings/Content: a deer gets killed (camp's gotta eat), female masturbation, dry humping, fingering, p in v, breeding kink if you squint, unprotected sex, lmk if there's anything else I should add :).
Word count: 3,132
Credit: @automnepoet for proofreading ily.
…………......................………………………………….
Why in god's green earth had you agreed to go on this hunting trip again?
Oh yeah, because you have a hard-on for Arthur Morgan… figuratively, that is.
It'd be alright if you could just tell him your feelings, but you'd prided yourself on liking more respectable, more rich men in the past; that's the easiest way to make a living, at the end of the day. You'd originally intended to go for the gang leader, but that man is oblivious and stubborn as hell, not to mention not actually rich, much to your displeasure.
Then Arthur had introduced himself to you. His stupid snarky remarks and silly outfits and disgustingly beautiful eyes all seemed to merge together into this gorgeous man that loomed in front of you and had your knees almost buckling.
Even worse, he'd noticed the way your demeanour changed and how your body seemed to crumble under the weight of his soft eyes.
“Hey! Are you even listenin’ to me?” His gruff voice breaks you from your trance.
“ ‘course I am, I always listen to your wise words, Mr Morgan.” You remark, looking up at him from the position you'd had your eyes trained on seconds ago. “Yeah, sure.” You feel his rough fingertips turn your chin back towards the deer in front of you, a gesture that makes heat rise in your cheeks all the way to the tips of your ears.
“Take the shot, you got a perfect shot there, can't miss it.”
The cold varnished wood cools your warm cheeks as you bring it close to your face and grit your teeth.
“Always shoot on empty lungs.” His whisper sends shivers down your spine before you take the shot, a loud crack echoing through the trees as a clatter of birds ascends into the sky.
“You did good! That was perfect.” A soft grunt leaves his throat as he gets up and checks the prey. “Think Pearson will make a good meal outta this,” his eyes then meet yours. “Good girl.” he tips his hat to you.
Damn Arthur Morgan, with that shit eating grin that makes your stomach flutter.
“You know I ain't one for pickin’ on people–” Arthur starts, shoveling chunks of peaches in his mouth, “but I don't think I've ever seen someone forget their tent on a huntin’ trip.”
“Ok, for one, you're always picking on people, ‘specially if you don't like ‘em. And for two… just– shut the hell up.” You pull your coat tighter around your body to shield yourself from the cold rain drizzling down your neck, the soft fur bringing you some warmth and comfort to your otherwise shaking body.
“Easy girl, don't be gettin’ mad at me now. Besides, it means you get to share a tent with me, ain't that a dream?” A simple grumble from you makes the man chuckle lowly. “I won't take that personally.”
It was a dream, and you hated admitting that.
Luckily, you'd remembered your bed roll, so at least you didn't have to snuggle up under the cotton sheets with your rugged partner… but, admittedly, a small part of you is disappointed at that.
You try to forget about those thoughts that are festering in the back of your mind and making you squeeze your legs together, but as the cold seeps into your bones and makes yourself huddle further into the sheets, you find yourself backing up against the warm body behind you.
The soft rustle of trees keeps you awake, at least that's what you tell yourself at first, not wanting to give into those filthy images of the cowboy flashing behind your eyelids.
Soon, all too soon for your liking, you find yourself panting. It's barely audible, but it's enough to make yourself embarrassed and look back at the outlaw peacefully sleeping behind you, unaware of the pictures you have playing on loop in your head. It makes you bite your lip; the thought of touching yourself right next to the man you've been meaning to tell your feelings to for months.
Quietly and carefully, you slide your hand over your body and between your legs, rubbing your already damp cunt over the fabric of your underwear. The feeling makes you grit your teeth much like earlier, and a small noise sneaks past your lips. You look back at Arthur again to see his chest still rising and falling slowly… fuck it, what's the worst that could happen?
Your hand slips into your underwear before you're even registering it. It's too cold to take the blanket off, or even your underwear for that matter, so you just run your fingers through your wet folds under the thin fabric. The slick noise it makes sounds too loud in the quiet forest, but at this point you're pretty sure the man is asleep, so you continue teasing yourself.
Your fingers circle your hole as you imagine it being his thick digits instead, or maybe even his tongue, since he's usually so quick with it. Another wet noise fills the tent when your fingers slide inside your needy cunt, buried to your knuckles as you massage that glorious spot inside you. When you pick up the pace, and the noises get louder, you're practically praying, wishing it was Arthur's fingers instead. They'd stretch you wide and fuck you good, the thought makes you shove some of the blanket in your mouth.
You're teetering on the edge at this point, scanning your brain for that final image that'll send you descending down the cliff… but a thick arm wrapping around your waist has you freezing in place.
“What have we got here?” Arthur's low, sleepy voice has the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end, raising goosebumps all over your body as if he'd just ripped the sheets from your body.
“Arthur!–shit, I'm sorry–." You start, but his nose pressing against the back of your neck makes you stop in your tracks.
“I ain't judgin’ you, girl. We've all got our urges, desires.” He shuffles up closer to you, closing in on your body till his chest is pressed against your back, and his crotch is angled perfectly against your thighs. “Just wanted to know what you were thinkin’ about.”
God, his voice is so soft and low, it could make you fall asleep if your fingers weren't still knuckle deep inside yourself. “I–uhm…” Should you admit it? With the way he's pressing against you, it makes you think you should.
“You.”
“ ‘s that so? And why ain't you told me about this before, sweetheart?” His breath is hot on the back of your neck, pushing out any coldness that was left in your body as his large hand splays across your stomach and strokes your soft skin.
A huff escapes your nose a little louder than you expected. “Because… I'm embarrassed, I don't wanna be thinking about you like this.” You mumble ashamedly, but as those words leave your lips, you start moving your fingers inside your cunt again; a ‘come hither’ motion that makes you bite your lip to contain your noises.
“Oh, that ain't very nice. You ain't exactly a saint ya'self, Darlin’.”
Fuck, the way his words roll off his tongue makes you roll against your hand with a soft noise.
The action must've pleased Arthur, because he lets out a pant and presses his hips closer to yours, grinding in tandem with you as your hips roll on your fingers.
This feels so strange and wrong, but you aren't sure why. It's not like Arthur is married or even has a girl, he's just as lonely as you, and maybe that's exactly why you're so drawn to each other.
“Mmm, been dreamin’ ‘bout this for months, pressing against you like this.” He groans softly. His chin is placed neatly on your shoulder, cheek pressing against yours as his stubble itches your skin. He feels so warm and big behind you, like he's shielding you from any and every burden, and as his hips rock against yours more, you can't help but do the same. You grind back on him with short, soft pants, tilting your head to just get a glimpse of his blissed out face.
“When was the last time you did something like this, cowboy? You're acting like you're gonna cum in your night clothes.”
That makes a soft chuckle leave his red lips, flushed face pulling away from yours to look down at you.
“Long enough to be needin’ you.”
His words make you shiver, but he's quick to distract you with his hand taking your wrist and swatting your hand away.
“Lemme do it for you, sweetheart, please?”
Before your brain can even question or think about it, your body is telling him yes, your head nodding almost instantly. His fingers are quick to dive into your under garments and slide through your slick folds, a groan from him ringing in your ears.
“Dammit girl, you must have one hell of an imagination to make ya'self this wet… Jesus.” He grunts, looking down at his hand in your underwear with only the dim light of the lantern making your skin glow.
“I always get like this when I think of you, Arthur.” You tell him as your hand wraps around his wrist. “You're the only one that can make me cum.” You moan in his ear, making him dive his fingers into your needy cunt.
The stretch is wonderful, not enough to hurt, but enough for you to feel it, and it's just how you expected, if not better. His thick digits curl and glide over your walls until he finally feels you squirm against him as they touch that delicious spot.
“Yeah? You like it there, darlin’? Want me to keep goin’?”
Again, your body simply speaks for you, nodding quickly and grinding down on his fingers. You feel him grind his hips against you again, his body seemingly wanting to get impossibly closer to you as he ruts against your ass.
“You're such a pretty girl, y'know that? Been waitin’ to tell you that since the day we met.” He rests his chin on your arm so he can peck the exposed skin and continue curling his fingers inside you.
The tent is once again filled with the filthy sounds of your hole taking two fingers, sloppy wet sounds that would make you feel ashamed if it didn't feel so fucking good. It feels like all your nerves are being stroked at once, each time his fingers brush against your tummy or stroke your walls feels like you can't get enough of the electricity that runs through your body. You grip his thick arm, looking back at him as moans fall from your lips.
“You're damn good… shit.” You whimper as he looks up at you, big round eyes meeting yours to show he's there.
“Well, I appreciate that, comin’ from you.” He chuckles lightly, his own words breathy while his hips start to snap a little faster and become sloppy. “You gotta lemme feel this cunt for myself, please sweetheart, lemme feel this cunt clench around my cock.”
You find it hard to stop rocking your hips when he's talking to you like that, but eventually you take a deep breath and stop yourself. His fingers slip out of you with a lewd sound, and you feel him shuffle to get his night clothes off.
Your own are gone within seconds, your body too hot and needy to worry about if you'd thrown them outside to the wolves to get torn to shreds, all you can focus on is the man behind you.
As much as this position made you wet before, you desperately want to see his handsome face, even if it is barely visible. So, you flip onto your other side and rest your hands on his chest, the warmth spreading through your fingers. You can practically feel his excitement buzzing off of him and through your body, and it makes you giggle a little. “Jesus, you really ain't done this in a while, have you?”
“Not with a girl as pretty as you, sweetheart.” One hand slides over your cheek while his other finally gets his clothes off.
Just his tone alone makes your cheeks heat up, but as he leans in for a kiss, you find yourself taking in a breath of surprise. It's easy to melt into his arms and get lost in the feeling of his lips; they're surprisingly soft and sweet, and they feel like they fit perfectly on yours.
You're so swept up that it takes you a second to notice his hand snaking around the back of your knee and pulling your hips closer to himself.
That's when you feel it.
His length rests against your slick pussy lips, your leg now cocked over his waist to get him close. It feels bigger than you expected, thicker than you expected, it makes you whine softly on his lips.
You hate his little grin that you feel spread across his face. “Impatient, ain't you?” He teases, slowly rocking his hips against yours to let his cock slide through your sopping folds. His tip manages to butt against your clit each time, making you furrow your brows and moan softly on his lips.
Your hand is still resting on his cheek as you feel him push in for the first time, and god are you glad you're holding onto your bedroll with the other, because the stretch and the way he fills you makes you almost cum on the spot, a loud moan spilling from your lips to make you whimper embarrassedly.
“Oh sweetheart, don't be embarrassed. I love the noises you're makin’ for me, they're makin’ me so goddamn hard, can you do it again for me?” He asks as he pulls his hips back before sliding inside your warm, slick walls again.
You're quick to oblige to his plea, your body automatically reacting with a soft choked moan at the surprise of his thick cock stretching you once again. You can feel his calloused fingers still gripping the back of your knee to hold your leg up, giving him the perfect angle for his length to hit every nerve you have inside you and send sparks of arousal up your spine.
“Thaaat’s a good girl, look at'chu.” The man purrs, his warm breath making your eyes flutter shut so you can focus on his cock spearing you with each slow, deep thrust.
“Holy shit, Arthur, f–feels like you're splitting me in half.” You moan as your hands slide over his thick biceps and along his broad shoulders, finding that the perfect place for you to grip on for dear life too.
Arthur groans before leaning forward to press a kiss on the top of your head as he pants softly. “Biggest you've had, huh? Never felt somethin’ like this inside you, have you?” He doesn't accept the simple shake of your head, instead giving you a sharp thrust that has your nails dig into his flesh and a whimper spill from your lips. “No! No, I haven't… I love it, dammit, I love your cock.”
Something inside him seems to click as you say those words, a long moan slipping from his throat as his grip becomes tighter on your leg to pull you closer to him, his cock burying deeper inside you. He doesn't give you time to adjust before his hips are colliding with yours and the sounds of both your arousal soaked thighs are filling your ears and sending waves of pleasure from your head to your toes.
“Listen to those filthy noises, girl, that's all you. That's your wet cunt..” Arthur manages to moan out. He tilts his head down to watch your hips connecting, his head resting against your collar bones. “What a pretty cunt it is too… shit, I ain't ever felt somethin’ as good as this, miss.” His words seem to roll off of his tongue with ease, as if he's a erotic poet reciting the words he's scrawled down on the page. Maybe it has something to do with that journal he's writing in all the time… lord above how you'd love to read that.
“For you, Mr Morgan,” you blabber without even thinking about the words coming from your mouth. “I'm all for you, want you to take me like this over and over–.” It's funny how worked up you get over your own words, but it seems to have an even better effect on Arthur.
His brows knit together as his jaw hangs open a little, and dirty blonde strands of hair fall in his face and stick to his forehead perfectly.
“Shit, girl, you're gonna make me finish inside you if you keep talkin’ like that…” The man groans, his lip finding its way between his teeth to give him something to chew on. Somehow, his thrusts get faster, impossibly better as you feel the molten heat spread through your body and up to your throat to make you moan his name, along with any other expletives that come to mind.
Before you can stop yourself, you're saying dangerous words that, with any other man, would be like handing a loaded gun to a baboon.
“I want you to do that Arthur! Please– please cum inside me–” Your entire body tenses up before you come crashing down, whaling and grasping onto him for dear life as he continues to fuck you through your orgasm and make sharp thrusts that have you whimpering loudly. Your walls clench him tightly in pulsing rhythm, driving him closer and closer to the edge.
It's only a few more seconds before he's tearing his body away from yours and fisting himself, white ropes shooting all over your tummy as groans and growls rumble in his chest and his head throws back.
You watch the whole scene in front of you in awe, as if you're at the goddamn theatre watching a play… no, it's better than that. You'd never had time for the theatre, but you always have time for Arthur, despite how he gets on your nerves sometimes.
You smile softly at him as he lifts his head to look down at you, a smug grin on his face as he leans forward and pecks your lips.
“Hey, what's with the grin?” You huff softly and hit his chest playfully.
“Nothin’ just been waitin’ for you to admit your feelin's for me for a while now.”
An annoyed growl leaves your lips as you feel your face heat up with embarrassment, burying it in his chest instead to save you from his teasing.
“Shut the hell up, Morgan…”
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en-archive · 3 months
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Hey can you write a smut about heeseung that he is a innocent nerd but secretly knows everything and is a total opposite in bed like he looks very cute and innocent and submissive but in bed he is a mean daddy dom
This is pure filth, I don’t see him being much of a daddy dom, but he most definitely is a dom so you’re not going away anywhere anon 🐇🎀
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Nerd!Heeseung is a very innocent, funny, but nice dude sitting in your engineering class. He is not your typical nerd, he keeps a cool atmosphere, despite everyone assuming he is an innocent virgin, you didn't think so. He comes in the classroom with a cold demeanor, before smiling at anyone who greets him. He is helpful yet he keeps to himself and doesn't get close to anyone. He is the typical student that puts a little too long in studying, yet what people don't know is the actual time he puts on ruining you in the sheets the evening after your lectures.
He seems like your typical lanky boy, wearing loose fitted shirts and baggy jeans, with a thin rimmed glasses. but people don't know the several positions he bends you over in the bed . It started off innocently, one evening you found yourself stuck on a math question, and so happened to see him online in the course chat. You asked him to help you out, but instead he offered to help you personally in his dorm. "My roommate is not here, so we can work on it in peace." read the text. That time you did not think much of it, what would he even do? All he ever cared for was his grades and participation in the group. The meetings were usual, he was alone, waiting for you in his gray sweatpants and another loose gray shit that exposed his collar bones.
You wouldn't dress up any special for him, but when the lessons became a little too hot, you noticed it wasn't because of the rising temperatures with the arrival of summer. It was still winter for God's sake. At some point, the tension became irresistible, you knew he had ulterior motives when he started asking you if you still needed help with the homework, and you insisted you did. You never looked at him in that light, yet when he took off his glasses one of those nights and you both had already concluded the lesson good 20 minutes ago, when he offered you guys watch a movie. You agreed, despite piles of assignments waiting for you, but this chance was only once in a lifetime, and knew if you said no, you would never get to do it.
The movie was ignored five minutes in, his hand had already found itself on your thigh, your lips searching for his. The thin shirt he had on was ripped off of him, your fingers finding the skin on his shoulders, gripping when his own started gripping your ass.
"So much for a teacher's pet." You moaned when his fingers started to yank the hem of your shirt, dragging the fabric off of you, letting his lips latch onto the soft skin of your neck, biting and licking the sweet spot behind your ear.
"I could be your pet. " He chuckled lowly, confessing later on how much he had been looking at you the whole time during class, and how he did not let up the chance to get you alone when you asked him for help. He craved you so bad some days, the way your ass was so well sculpted out in your jeans, and the way you smiled, or scrunched your face when you couldn't understand a subject. he wanted to bite off that smile from your lips, get drunk on you. His hands finally found your naked waist, snaking up wards just to unclasp the bra and free your chest, just to immediately latch on. University, and work took up most of your time, when was the last time you got properly laid? You didn't remember, but you knew this was going to deliver you from the constant ache that bothered you these days.
The way his lips would nibble on the sensitive buds, and how his fingers would grasp the other, kneading, and caressing it. His tongue flicked the bud several times, only to trail up sloppy and wet kisses to your collar bone, leaving small butterflies around the décolletage. Covering them up would be a bitch, but that was a problem for the you tomorrow. His hands worked on the skin on your back, slowly, feather like, lingering his fingers over the goosebumps that had formed from the slight cool air in the living room. You gasped when his fingers found solace in gripping your bare ass in your clothes. You let out a shaky moan when his hands started pushing the fabric off of you, helping you rid yourself off your sweatpants and panties.
His eyes never left observing you, never leaving your face like a researcher looking at his new discovery, smiling in awe as one of his digits tested your squelching hole. Collecting the juices, you whined and smacked him in the chest when he licked the glossiness off of his fingers.
"I have been craving to taste you for so long. You make me so crazy with that cute ass of yours in class" He finally wriggled beneath you, dragging out his hard on from his sweatpants, the abused red tip already leaking precum.
"You should have said something then Hee, fuck!" You breathed out a sigh of relief when two of his digits started scissoring you, preparing for the abuse your pussy was about to experience from his tip.
"I tried, you are just so unapproachable sometimes!" He chuckled before he dragged his dick over your wet slit, collecting your juices on him before pushing in the fat tip, stretching you out just right.
You whined, arching your back from the stretch, but to him it sounded like the sweetest melody; seeing you on him, whimper and have a hard time taking his dick in, begging for him to slow down before he bottomed out and touched you balls deep. Before you could say anything to him, he took the mental que from you, seeing as you relaxed in his touch and sighed from relief and pleasure, finally getting to experience something hitting your cervix since a long time.
His hands positioned themselves on your ass again, smacking it once, just to test the waters, liking the response he got from you, hearing you and seeing you bite your lip, letting out a soft moan followed by his name.
His hips started their abuse on you slow at first, trying to grasp what you liked. He was such a good student, yet no ne would ever imagine him lean his forehead on you as he smiled at your misery to handle him. The way he teased you with his slow thrusts, not even letting you bounce on him, holding you still before he heard you start begging, which made him smile devilishly.
"Hm, what was that?" He halted himself inside you, leaving you shaking in his lap as you tried moving your hips in circular motions, trying to get him to hit you in that delicious spot, to finally see stars.
"Don't be such a fucking tease!" you whined, digging your nails in his hands, leaving crescent moons in their trail. You hated the smug look on his face, the way eh enjoyed you begging. At some point he had enough of your suffering, and started moving his hips, letting you match him in movement. The cries and whines leaving your agape mouth could have been heard from the outside of the dorm, the freshman girl passing by the door hurrying up her steps as her cheeks flushed crimson red.
"I will teach you proper language next time you come over along with math, hm, what do you say sweetheart?" You whined, the familiar knot finally tying itself inside your stomach, and you screamed when the tip of his dick started hitting your g-spot at an abnormal pace. You knew he was close.
“ Hee. I-I’m close!” You blurted out before he gave you an affirmative kiss, his tongue immediately finding yours. Drop dripped down your chin as you moaned in his mouth, letting the knot release, finally orgasming after his load shoot right inside you. His hand came to give you little soft pats on your back and ass, soothing you from the high. When his lips finally left yours, you smiled at his flushed face and your fucked up state.
“Seems you’ll have to tutor me from now on! “
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help-itrappedmyself · 2 months
Text
Summoning Game Show Part 4
Masterpost
Look. I don't know how to write a sword fight and if I tried this part wouldn't be coming out for a month. So here's this and if I ever do write the sword fight I'll shove it in as part 4.5 or something.
~~~~~
Turns out that Fright Knight bleeds green. Weird. It had taken a moment, both of the fighters taking the time to get to know their opponent before truly engaging in the fight. But after the fight had well and truly started, it hadn’t lasted long. Damian had quickly taken advantage of his speed and the fact that Fright Knight was clearly not used to being limited by gravity.
“So the puzzle currently stands with four letters showing.” Danny gestured as the screen reappeared.
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“For winning against Fright Knight, what letter would you like to guess?” Danny asks Damian, who has returned his borrowed sword and is now standing back on the stage.
“I choose the letter O.” Damian’s quick with his answer.
“An amazing choice, Robin. There is an O!”Danny waves his hand and the screen changes.
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“The next game is a race! You can pick how you want to race from: bike race, flying race... Can any of you fly?” Danny’s face scrunches slightly as they all answer no. “Apologies, your options are bike race or swim race!”
“Nobody is swimming in radioactive substances!” Nightwing interjects.
“Bike race it is!” Danny agrees cheerfully. “Who will our biker be?”
Tim and Jason turn to look at each other. “Look, if it’s between the two of us to do the brain puzzle at the end, I think we all want that to be you.” Jason states. “Let me take this one.”
Tim nods and Jason stands up. “I’ll do it.”
“Wonderful! You’ll be racing Johnny.” Danny says. “Skulker will be playing defense.”
They are approached by a blond man wearing driving gloves.
“Wait, defense on a race?” Jason asks.
“Yeah, his goal will be to try and let no one win!” Danny is getting very excited. “He makes his own weapons, so I asked him to make some traps and things for this, he was excited to be able to participate.”
Danny jumps off the podium, but floats gently down until he’s next to Johnny, but now his forn doesn’t have any feet, just a wispy tail. Then waves for Jason to join them. As Jason is walking over someone with flames for hair wearing a lot of metal floated past through a door that said 3. Danny noticed Jason’s eye tracking him.
“That was Skulker. He’s going to set up the racetrack. Now we need to go to the garage so you can pick out your bike!” Danny starts walking over to yet another door. “Johnny will be on his usual bike, but you can pick whichever you want out of these.” Danny opened the door and flung it open for Jason, who stood still in the doorway.
“These are all motorcycles.” Jason muttered. 
“Well, yeah.”
“Is that a problem?” Johnny asks.
“No.” Jason shakes his head. “I had thought bicycles when I heard bike race, but this works out great.”
Jason goes and looks around at all the bikes, they had a large selection.
“Johnny, remember to keep Shadow in line. I know he’ll want to ride with you because it’ll be fun and everything, but he is not to interfere with the race.”
Johnny nods. “You got it. I’ll make he sure he doesn’t do anything.”
“Good! When Jason is done grabbing his bike, get yours too and I’ll meet you outside room 3!”
Johnny starts walking over to help Jason pick out a bike and Danny heads back into the main room. He floats up to the stands to talk to a few people, then floats back down to the podium and lands on it with two feet again.
“We’ll be watching from here.” Danny tells the boys, who had huddled together sometime while he was gone. 
Skulker comes back out of room 3 and heads over to Danny. “Got everything set up.”
“Nothing lethal? You remember that one of them is mostly human, not ghost. He will actually be hurt if you go too far.”
“Mostly?” Tim mouths at Dick. Dick shrugs.
“Got it covered. Non-lethal weaponry, and set up some road hazards.”
Danny nods and Skulker heads back through door number 3, as Johnny and Jason leave the garage, both pushing bikes next to them. 
Danny heads over to lead them to the track and get them set up at the starting line.
The room is large, with what looks like three separate zones and the track looks like it’s made of glass, reflecting as green as almost everything else in the Infinite Realms. The  first zone looks like a mountain, with the track starting on ground level and going up in winding circular trails up and around the mountain before heading back down. Then there’s a quick jump in it, a ramp leading to a gap in the track, which separates the zones. Zone Two  looks like a series of mounds, or small hills like a dirt racing track, some grassy, some muddy, some sandy, all sure to make driving difficult. Another jump leads into Zone Three which looks like a cityscape. There are many different paths you can take through it but you have to go around buildings and what looks like fake traffic.
Johnny and Hood get the bikes set up at the starting line while Danny starts explaining.
“You have to go through all three zones, but the actual paths you take are pretty optional so long as you go through all of them in order. The first zone really only has one path, but the second one has some splits and the third is almost a maze, so you wont get penalized or anything for going down different streets or anything. Main points are you make it up and down the mountain, through the hills, and across the city. If you crash or skid, or Skulker gets you, you are free to keep going so long as you are uninjured.”
Danny then goes back to the podium and gets the screen up and ready to begin.
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vendetta-ari · 2 months
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Please, write an x reader about the Vs with an angel reader who they want to win over and who happens to be completely oblivious about their intentions because she is very naïve. Oh, and I would appreciate some fluff! If it's okay, I'd like Vox and Val to have romantic intentions while Velvette has platonic ones (ie: wanting to hang out with reader and show off her work). Of course, this last bit about Velvette is completely up to you! Thank you for reading! <3
my first ask back from hiatus, enjoy my dear anon! I'll be honest, I dont know how to write Valentino in a not smutty or angsty way, so I tried my best, velvette's has implications of her liking you but not dating so???
[SUGGESTIVE AND ITS VALENTINO SO IT DESERVES ITS OWN WARNING THERE]
THE VEE'S X ANGEL READER
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Vox
☆ Vox found you during extermination day, you weren't an exterminator- just wanted to visit the bright red place they call hell. 
☆ took an interest in you, more specifically your naivete. he put on his business smile and led you to the vee's tower wanting to “tour hell” with you
☆ Instead he just ended up falling for you harder than he thought
☆ his original plan was to get you to sign your soul off and he'd use you as branding, something like “even angels live voxtek products!!”
☆ but he ended up liking you more than he should've, he thinks your naive and kinda ditzy, he loves it and think its adorable
☆ however, he doesn't let you leave hell, so I suppose you're a fallen angel now.
☆ no matter,  you're with Vox now. you can have everything you ever need and want
☆ And he totally didn't brainwash your brain into thinking that. 
☆ “Just don't ask questions, okay angel?”
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Valentino 
~Valentino saw you wandering hell during extermination, you were not killing anyone though.. what the fuck?
~But you, you looked different then the other angles he'd seen.
~He just had to have you,  I mean how could he possibly even resist! it's your fault for looking all dumb and naive like that after all. 
~He grabbed your wrist and threw you into his studio, all the explicit content and nudity made your poor virgin eyes look away and blush.
~ “Aren't you a lovely specimen my dear angel? your so much different then the others I've seen, amorcito~” His voice was tinged with lies but you were just too stupid to notice, weren't you?
~You fell hook, line, and sinker for him. you quickly signed a contract with him, he had you right where he wanted you. while him? well you were..just another worker is all. but soon you started getting popular, in videos like Ditzy angel has their first time!~
~It was all acting anyway, what was the harm in making a few videos?
~You quickly became Val's favorite. He didn't treat you badly, you'd sit on his lap while he'd direct his other workers. He'd treat them so badly though! you couldn't help but feel bad so you often calmed val down by snuggling up to him and wrapping your pretty angelic wings around him.
~Upon your touch he usually shuts up, and wraps his own wings around you too. and he would always be gentle with you. 
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Velvette
-Velvette just found you waltzing around hell like it was no big deal, she was confused as hell but intrigued, you were different 
-actually, you were perfect. so she snatched the opportunity while she could.
-She ran up to you, turning up her charm and asking you if you wanted to model for her company
-She showered you with compliments, and it was more like an order and demand rather than her actually asking you.
-no matter, you excitedly agreed. you've always wanted to be a model!
-Your her top model actually,  you got a lot of popularity being an angel after all
-She dresses you up in white and blue, not usually her style but she must admit, it looks great on you!
-You never leave her side, she's very protective of you. I mean there are dangerous people out in hell and “I just wanna keep you safe my angelic dolly!~”
-Any of her advances fly right by you, not even noticing she's flirting with you, she does get pissed about it sometimes but she usually just ends up saying “You're a klutz, my dear angel. and your cute and ditzy and clearly not getting that I'm flirting with you so your clearly my type.”
-you look away from the new dress she bought you “Huh? sorry what'd you say Vel? I got distracted..”
-xoxo, Ari
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urfavleo777 · 6 months
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Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language, alcohol, oral (f receiving), enemies to lovers.
"Having fun?"
You look up from your phone and see Colby staring at you. You wonder why, out of so many people, he chose to approach you. Well, maybe because half of the guests have lost touch with reality. Your best friend Sam's birthday party didn't end the way you thought it would. Instead of innocent dancing and honest conversations over a bottle of wine, one of the guests decided to bring weed and spoil the whole party.
That guest was, of course, Colby Brock himself.
You'd be lying if you said he wasn't handsome. He definitely was and he knew it perfectly well, but due to his intolerable character, especially when drunk, his appearance didn't matter.
"No," you answer flatly. You direct your gaze back to the Instagram post of some unknown model to block your view of him, but he quickly snatches it away and puts it in his pocket at the back of his pants. "Give it back to me, you freak!"
"Such a shame. You should be dancing on the table, not sitting alone like a puppy," he says with a taunting smirk. "Let me entertain you, Y/n."
You roll your eyes as he sits down on the almost empty couch next to you. Sitting in the main room, where most people have lost contact with reality and are rolling on the floors, reminds you a bit like a scene from an asylum. Colby snorts when he notices you looking at them with a look of horror on your face. You wonder where Sam is. It takes you a moment to realize that he's probably already jumped into his fancy swimming pool. Or is just busy with doing something… else.
You decide to check on him, but as you're about to get up, your dress gets caught on the table, causing it to rip. You curse under your breath, pissed that one of your favorite dresses was ruined. You sit back on the comfortable sofa so that no one notices you exposing your leg up to the hip.
Well, you are wrong if you think this may help.
"Woah, slow down, Y/n," you shoot him an angry look and he responds with a short laugh. His mocking voice is probably caused by too much alcohol in his blood, and it starts to piss you off.
"Give me my phone back, Colby." You say seriously, senselessly trying to cover your legs.
"Take it if you want it so bad."
This is the second time you roll your eyes in his presence. There's no way you're going to touch him. Indeed - now, staring at you with those hypnotic blue eyes of his, messy dark hair, red cheeks from the amount of alcohol he drank, and lips that just ask for a kiss, he is even more attractive than usual, but… no. You can't give up that easily.
"Colby, I swear to god," it was becoming more than taunts. "Give me back something you took from me. If not, that would be the perfect reason to accuse you of st-"
"I want to shut that pretty mouth of yours." You barely suppress a flinch when he whispers the words into your ear.
You don't even look at him, but in your mind's eye you see that damn smirk on his face again.
"Wanna hear something that you'll hate?" He is a whisper in your ear, gooseflesh rising on your arms and the fire igniting in your abdomen. You decide not to play unavailable any longer and nodd without saying anything. He smacks his lips after noticing your obedience. Then he moves even closer, breaking any distance between you two. "I've wanted to rip that dress off of you since the beginning of this party. I see that fate has done me a favor."
Speaking in a low voice directly into your ear, he hit your sweet spot. But it doesn't matter when you finally realize that he's only saying it because he's drunk. In a few hours you will be just friends again with Sam, who is actually your connection to keep in touch.
"Come with me. I'll show you what having fun exactly means."
And truly, you're so close to agreeing if it weren't for the fact that you're overthinking too much.
You lower your head and look away in embarrassment. Maybe it's also the alcohol, which always makes you more sensitive, but you feel like you're about to cry. You try hard not to burst into tears, because knowing Colby he would use it to tease you and make fun of you in the future.
"Is something wrong?" His wild nature disappears in the blink of an eye. Colby cups your cheek, forcing you to look into his eyes. There's no turning back as he grabs your waist with his other hand and pulls you closer to him. "Do you want me to stop?"
You just shrug. You are a conflict full of contradictions. Part of you wants to push him away and send him to hell, and the other part wants to do the things that you only secretly dream about.
Colby, seeing your indecision, respectfully moves away from you.
That’s kinda sweet, actually.
Then he closes his eyes, and when he opens them, it feels like he's even drunker than usual.
"We can't.. do this." You say, looking up at him.
Colby nods sightly, but you know the darkness in these eyes too well. He's not looking at you the way friends looks at each other. Colby notices the way your body shifts next to him, looking at him from under your lashes and biting your lip unconsciously. Nevertheless, he says the following words:
"I have always been far from your ideal man," your face contorts in confusion. You want to tell him he's stupid, but he stubbornly continues. "You've always preferred chasing the nice guys next door, like that fucking church fanatic Dylan. You never paid attention to me, even though I tried. Remember that Halloween night at Sam's? I remember you complaining about your lack of outfit ideas. You thought that by not dressing up at all, you would spoil everyone's fun. The night before, I drove around for several hours looking for the perfect costume shop. Of course, Sam told you that he dug that outfit out of the closet, but you knew that was impossible. A witch outfit in Sam's closet? Sounds bizarre, doesn't it?"
You open your mouth in confusion. True, something like that had happened and you felt strange that Sam had such things in his closet, but you ignored the feeling and just thanked him. Now you finally know who was behind it all.
"Colby…"
"Yeah, I know I'm making a damn fool of myself right now, but I want you to know that I don't want to just use you for a one-night stand. You're beautiful. When Sam introduced you to me, that was my first thought of you. Fuck, you're so beautiful, Y/n."
"Shut up and kiss me."
This answer surprises him a bit, but soon afterwards he smiles slyly.
"Close your eyes." The heat of his breath kisses your neck.
You shiver at the suggestion of his lips, and again when they press to your skin. Close-lipped, Colby kisses the skin just under your ear where on the opposite side of your head his thumb strokes quarter circles. You're quickly overwhelmed by the duelling sensations. You don't notice his lips have parted until he's kissing a sloven path downward, his spit cooling in wake.
This isn't a hickey, this is straight up kissing, and you don't know what to do with how you feel. You hide your hands in his hair.
"Please, let's get out of here," you literally beg.
He nods and takes you up the stairs. It doesn't take long before you're in Sam's room. You giggle at the spot he chose. You close the door and let yourself be carried away by the touch of Colby's delicate big hands.
Your hand works further into his hair, getting caught in a tangle as he sucks your skin between his lips. His lazy mouthing turns insistent but still gentle, his teeth scratching ever so slightly at your pulse as it capers beneath his ministrations. You gasp at the warmth blossoming under your ribs. You cup the back of his neck a touch too tight.
He breaks a particularly rough kiss to suck in breath, his nose sliding up the curve of your neck as he leans back. "You okay?" he murmurs, half-lidded eyes locking onto your flushed face.
"Mh-" You cut off your sentence by pushing him onto the bed. With one movement of his hand, he tears off the remnants of the fabric of your torn dress and admires your half-naked body.
You sit on his lap, continuing to devouring him with kisses. In the meantime, you grab his belt and clumsily try to undo it.
"Let me help you, puppy," he chuckles as he continues kissing. You sigh at the word he called you. As he throws his pants down, you hear a loud thump on the floor.
"My phone!"
"Fuck your goddamn phone," he slaps your ass, making you moan loudly. "I'll buy you a new one."
Soon you're sitting on top of Colby, whose only clothes are his underwear.
You continue grinding on his bare thigh, his boxers pushed up high. The outline of his cock shows through the cotton, and you can’t help but grab it. He inhales sharply at the sudden contact, making you giggle.
"Love seeing you all turned on, Colby," you murmur, sucking his neck that has his eyes rolling back in his head. He moves his hand from your waist to your clit, pressing slow circles to the sensitive bud over the lace. A moan slips past your lips, quickly turning into a whimper of his name. "F-Fuck, Colby. Right there."
He throws your legs over his shoulders so quickly that it has you laughing in surprise, but that laughter stops as soon as his mouth is on you. His tongue immediately finds your clit, flicking over it until your toes curl. He wraps his lips around it and sucks gently until he has you on the brink of orgasm. His fingers return to your needy hole, filling you expertly until you cum with a wanton moan.
"So fucking good," Colby says, still between your legs. His mouth and chin are covered in a slick sheen. "You wanna taste now, baby? Wanna know just how delicious you are?"
You open your mouth and eagerly accept his fingers. They taste of your arousal and a hint of strawberry; it does bear a striking similarity to your chapstick. Once Colby lets his fingers drop from your mouth, you’re whining and writhing below him.
"Now, get on your knees for me."
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bonny-kookoo · 7 months
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Jungkook
TERRITORIAL. | Pretty Baby
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Who would've known that the big bad wolf isn't actually all that bad?
Tags/Warnings: Punk!Jungkook, Wolf!Jungkook, Good girl!Reader, Dom!Jungkook, Sub!Reader, Corruption kink, strangers to crushes to lovers, Fluff, Adult themes
Length: uuuh long idk
There is no taglist for this fic.
-> Masterlist
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Strawberry milk is your favorite.
It's always been a comfort thing for you- just like certain snacks or fabrics make you feel comforted, strawberry milk gives you that little bit of extra braveness at night after work has ended to finally make your way back home into the safety of your apartment.
But tonight, it's a bit different. Tonight, there's a group of vamps outside, clearly trying to agitate the wolves who've been ruling the streets for a while now.
It's not actual gang-behavior. They're not actively fighting or anything, there's never any guns or other violence involved- at least not on the surface. Underground, you're sure this must be a different story- but on the streets, the wolves play the tune everyone else dances to- the vamps only occasionally trying to provoke something, which never actually happens.
But that doesn't mean it won't tonight. Maybe tonight's the night it'll escalate.
And on nights like this, you sometimes feel like moving into the big city was a big mistake too, because this seems so normal to everyone else around you.
Back home in your little town, there wasn't anything like this at night. People would go to bed at reasonable times, you'd know every neighbor by name and house number, and you never had to fear going home alone. But here, things are different. Here, things are a lot more dangerous, especially as nothing but a human with no connection to either group.
You kind of want to stay neutral- even if, deep down, you feel more drawn towards the wolves with their more laid back approach to life.
Outside the small convenience store, you throw away the empty bottle of strawberry milk, before you reluctantly make a few steps- looks from a few vampires immediately making you retreat however, pulling out your phone to appear occupied. You can hear them snickering amongst each other already, laughing and talking, making comments about you.
You can't do this, fuck that.
You look around a little, when you notice someone from the nearby wolves looking back at you- a young man, golden eyes a tell-tale sign of what he is, as he sits on his bike that's perched up on it's kickstand. He's watching you, but not in an intimidating way- he's more so calculating it seems like, scanning the situation before he looks towards a friend nearby, who nods, some others nodding as well as they move closer.
He's got his hands in the pockets of his jacket, beanie hiding the slightly faded blue-ish strands of hair. Everyone of the tiny group appears relaxed and non-threatening. But there's a certain confidence in them that intimidates you a little as they walk closer.
That is, until he smiles at you-
and his black tail behind him wags, swaying from side to side.
"Alright guys, can we make some space here for the lady to pass through?" He asks towards the group of Vamps, who laugh, before they reluctantly make space for you to walk. The young man carefully moves to walk a little behind you, the other's shielding you just as much on the side that's turned towards the blood-dependent human variants. It just confirms to you that yeah, you're definitely more drawn towards wolves.
"There we go. Is your home far?" The young wolf asks, still keeping a respectful distance towards you.
"Uh.. no, not really." You deny, and he nods. "Thanks, by the way." You bow to him and his friends politely, everyone just waving it off- though you can see all their tails swaying a little. It's honestly.. cute, if they didn't all look like they could probably break your neck at a moment's notice.
But they don't. Instead, they all agree to your request to walk home now by yourself, and let you go-
though you can feel one person's eyes on you for a little longer, and when you turn around, he smiles that smile again.
A smile that's just.. genuine.
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You meet him again the day after at the convenience store, though he's sporting a fresh scratch on the top of his cheekbone. He doesn't seem to be in too much pain as he spots you however, having just bought your typical strawberry courage to go home tonight. "Do you always work this long?" He wonders, and you nod, sitting down next to him at the narrow table at the windows of the small store. He's been eating something, bowl now empty though, faint redness on his lips the last remnant of his meal.
"What happened?" You ask, pointing to your own cheek, when he seems surprised, touching his own before hissing at the sting. "No don't touch it-" You whine, before you look for something in your bag, opening another, smaller, makeup bag. "here- or... do you want me to help?" You wonder, making him nod and lean forward with a faint smile on his lips, hands holding onto the chair he's sitting on between his legs as he closes his eyes so you don't feel watched.
As you clean up the scratch and put a bandaid on, you kind of have to think about the fact that he seems awfully.. less threatening than you thought he'd be, considering he's a wolf from the big city. But maybe the one's you know from the smaller towns are just.. a little too full of themselves, pride getting the best of them.
"Oh-" You suddenly say, noticing the little cartoon fish on the bandaid you just placed on his cheek.
"What, 'oh'?" He wonders back, and you hold out another bandaid to him so he can take a look.
"I'm sorry, I didn't- I forgot I only have those…" You mumble a bit caught off guard by your own actions. But he just laughs, giving it back to you with a smile and shake of his head.
"It's fine- they're cute!" He simply shrugs, not bothered by it at all. "Thanks." He offers, tail swaying behind him. "So- can I ask what you work as?" He wonders, and you nod, putting your stuff back into your bag.
"Just data management. It's pretty boring." You shrug to yourself. "But I can work by myself and I like that." You explain, zipping your bag shut before you look at him again. "Although.. I might have to get myself maybe a dog, when I go home at night. A big, scary looking one you know? But they've got to be nice so I can bring them into the office with me.." You mumble, drinking the last of your milk as he turns his body to face more openly to you again, a playful smirk on his lips.
"How about I'll be your big bad dog then, huh?" He flirts, tail swinging side to side behind him. "Though I'm probably not allowed in the office.." He laughs, especially when you roll your eyes and still smile at his joking attempt at flirting. It was a joke.. right?
"Ha-ha." You say because of that, though he just widens his eyes, feigning innocence.
"Hey I'm serious!" He offers, leaning a bit closer. "I could take you home every night- and if I can't, someone of my pack could do the job instead."
"I- I'm probably not even gonna stay in the city for too long." You sigh, playing with the fluffy pom-pom ball attached to your bag. "I don't like it here very much.. it's too.. I don't know. I don't belong here.." You mumble.
"Maybe you've simply not seen the good parts of the city." He shrugs. "I could show you some."
"And by some you mean your bedroom?" You sigh, looking at him with a bit of an attitude- and he can't help but be intrigued by that little hint of spice you seem to have, underneath your pretty visuals and rather introverted appearance.
"If you'd like to visit, the door's always open for a pretty girl like you." he purrs, and at that, you clearly turn shy. "..And I don't ever open that door for anyone but myself, typically." He adds on, and at that, you look back at him, searching for the deeper meaning of that statement-
and you seem to find it, in the warmth of his eyes and the slight redness to his ears.
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"Have you ever been a backpack before?" Jungkook asks, as he waits outside of your apartment, one helmet on his bike and the other in his hand.
"Uh.. no-" you say, honestly never having heard the phrase.
"Would you like to try?" He asks, motioning towards his bike, holding out the helmet. "Got this one from a packmate. Should fit you." He says, black and grey tail wagging as you take it somewhat reluctantly. "And I'll drive extra careful too." He says, helping you put on the helmet properly before his hands adjust the strap under your chin.
"What if I fall off?" You worry, but he just laughs, putting on his own helmet. You notice that his hair seems freshly dyed- nor black.
"Not if you hold on to me." He explains, sitting on the bike after putting up the kickstand. "Hop on- I'll keep it stable." He reassures you, as you somewhat awkwardly climb onto the back of his bike. Only when his hands pull yours around his middle do you notice he's only really keeping you both and the bike stable with his feet alone.
And it makes you wonder how strong he might be.
"There we go. You'll figure things out as we go, trust me." He chuckles, small speakers in his head connected to his own too so you can talk properly. "Good to go?" Be asks, and you nod-
That is until his bike roars to life, and you instinctively cling onto him for dear life as he turns to drive off onto the main road.
He laughs. You're not sure what's so funny.
"Oh look at Jungkookies new passenger princess!" Someone jokes suddenly over the speaker, and you look around just to find three people on bikes as well at the same red light.
"Nervous?" Another voice asks, and Jungkook growls a little in front of you.
"You're making her nervous, hyung!" He complains, making the stranger's laugh. "Don't worry, they just want to mess with me.." he mumbles towards you, hand squeezing yours for a little in comfort.
"Yeah of course, after all Jungkook's finally all grown up!" The first voice laughs. "Finally up for an actual relationship now, fuckboy?" He asks, and at that, you grow a bit nervous.
Fuckboy? Relationship?
Just who is Jungkook really? You've got no idea. Sure, you've texted over the past few days, but you basically know nothing about him. He could just try and get into your pants, maybe that's his whole thing- maybe he likes them innocent and stupid to have a quick fuck and then drop them again. With looks like his that must be easy.
You're easy.
"Please don't listen to them, they're just assholes-" He tries to explain as the light finally turns green, but you're quiet, and Jungkook has a feeling that something's wrong. "You okay?" He asks occasionally, but you just nod and move on, not really up for talking anymore. He just wants to screw you anyways. Maybe he really is just a big city wolf down the line.
The scenery is nice, but you don't really feel like enjoying it too much as you just want to go home right away again. It's something you do- you hide from things, because confrontation just ends in you being at fault all the time. And maybe, this time, you are at fault.
You shouldn't just trust someone like that. You both barely know each other.
He parks at a gas station, turning off his bike in a more secluded parking area, before he takes off his helmet, and helps you take off yours too.
"What's wrong?" He asks, hair a bit wild, but eyes serious as they look at you, reflecting the light from the neon signs a little like mirrors.
"Nothing." You shrug, avoiding eye contact.
"He was just messing with me. They're always like that-" he tries to explain, and as you sigh, he knows that that's exactly what must've set you off. "Listen, I won't stand here and tell you I'm a church-going virgin because I'm not. Yeah, I fucked around, because sex is fun to me." He shrugs, and you're caught off guard at how boldly he says that. "But that doesn't mean I can't take things seriously." He offers, finally catching your gaze again. "And I want to take.. you seriously." He offers you, but you're not sure.
"...why?" You wonder. "Cause I'm pretty and innocent?" You jab at him. "Cause I'm the small town girl you can corrupt and then drop after you finally got into my pants?" You accuse. "Sucks to be you, I'm not a virgin anymore. I've had sex already, and for me it's not fun." You deny, crossing your arms almost defensively, though you quickly move your hands back on the bike as it moves slightly the moment he sits on it again, facing you however.
"I don't care about that." He tells you. "I won't lie that the corruption part isn't something appealing to me-" he chuckles, as he tests the waters, hands on your thighs not moving, just resting on the tops of them. "-But I'm not dropping you, if you ever let me have you." He purrs.
"What if I'm not ever letting you have me?" You respond, trying to act tough so he won't think you're easy.
"Then that's your choice." He nods.
"So if I say no right now, you'll leave me alone?" You ask.
"Depends on what you say no to." He shrugs leaning back a little, your legs feeling cold without his hands on them. "No to sex? Alright, we won't fuck then." He explains. "No to being with me? Cool, we'll just stay friends then." He goes on.
"No to me entirely?" He offers, eyes unreadable. "I'll accept that, and back off."
"That easy?" You ask a little caught off guard, and he nods. "So you're.. huh." You mumble to yourself, defeated. So he's not even up to put any effort in you. That's slightly disappointing, and honestly makes you feel a little ashamed even.
"So what is it?" He asks, and you shrug.
"I don't know." You answer honestly.
"Then how about I'll work for it?" He smirks, and you look at him now. "Let me take you out. Let's go on dates, I can take you to pack meet-up's so you can get to know those assholes better, hell, I'll even have you meet my mom if you want!" He excitedly proposes to you, tail wagging, hitting his bike occasionally. "Just- you seem really cool. Exactly what I've been searching for." He explains a bit softer now. "Let's try.. okay?" He asks.
"... okay." You answer, and at that his lips turn, part in a happy grin, before he gets up from the bike and punches the air once in his excitement before he returns.
"Okay!" He giggles to himself, helping you back into your helmet. "I know an awesome place to get some food-" he instantly rambles, kicking up the stand for his bike again before he drives off with you-
Eager to show you that he's the one for you.
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alistairsmonstercafe · 4 months
Text
NSFW How to Gain the trust of a Dragon in the Dragons Den, Guide 02
PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4 | PART ?
NOTICE; TOP/SWITCH Male Hybrid Reader
CHARACTER; BOTTOM/SUB Price, BOTTOM/SWITCH Soap,
CW; Threesome, slight choking? Hella horny dragon, body worship, praise, face sitting, fingering, ass eating, cock suckin' shit like that.
ADDITIONAL; I don't mind Fem/Fem aligned readers reading but don't feel insulted/complain that I strictly don't do Fem reader, not my cuppa tea mate.
INSPIRATION; @/Bluegiragi Monster AU on Twt and Tumblr & @/thegnomelord for the scale idea on tumblr.
NOTE; Accidentally posted the draft... | This will be a mini series staring our favorite little hybrids. Part ? Will be a poll of a repeat character or a non 141 character.
As Price paced outside the office, the temptation to peek behind that imposing door grew stronger. His hybrid instincts nudged him toward curiosity, but his rationality warned against it. He wasn't your mate. Not Soap's either. He'd be a prick if he suddenly barged in purely because he was a horny dragon, he hasn't felt the urge for a proper mate for years, but it was uncommon for species to crossbreed, or to even have packs, or other mates then one that weren't of the same species.
Yet, there was something magnetic about the possibility—a pull he couldn't quite resist. The thought flickered in his mind like a distant flame, leaving him torn between his innate curiosity and the risk.
And despite the gentle reach of his claw near the door, he didn't. He was old. Older then most of you, who would dare date a dragon of his age? Even people of his kind preferred dragons who could keep up with them, not groan at a sudden back pain or a weak knee. Nor the crowfeet on his eyes, signs of age in his face. His body was not as strong as in his younger days, and well, his stomach. It had a lot more pudge to it, something he'd never openly admit.
The following day, despite his position as captain, Price found himself stealing more glances at you and Soap, your little cuddles during lunch, or the way your tails intertwined. The soft cooing and purrs left to each other left him with want, tugging at the fringes of his thoughts. He couldn't shake off the inexplicable allure it held, even though he knew his authority wouldn't grant him it.
As he maneuvered through his duties, his mind kept circling back to you. He questioned his own reluctance to simply talk to you, push the conversation open. It wasn't about rules or permissions; it was a deeper, primal restraint holding him back, a fear of the unknown that clashed with his innate curiosity.
Yet, when he came back to his desk later that evening, he saw a small pile of, to what to most, would seem as mindless trinkets, was actually an abundance of jewels, some of his favorite coffee, tea, and a make shift.. Scale? No. That wouldn't make sense. He could recognize it as yours and Soap's fur. In the shape of a scale.
Were you lads trying to court him? A deep rumble erupted from his chest as he gently held up the item to his nose, his wings relaxing at the mixed scent. The scent of a mate, his instincts whispered. And he couldn't help but agree.
Tucking away the items he placed them in a small box on his shelf full of items he hoarded before. He couldn't have a huge hoard, so he did what he could. And turned the scale shaped fur, into a necklace he could wear on his chest. Closest to his heart. For he knew they had won it already.
It was the next day where you and Soap were idly chatting, he sat down infront of you, and slid over a scale cut perfectly down the middle for you two. You both easily looked up in shock, mouths open. "Wha- Cap'n- Does this mean-" Soap sputtered, and you were still quiet with your jaw still wide open.
"It does. Means it quite bloody clearly, Soap." He replies almost shyly, his firm voice is softened with love and affection as he smiles. Those beautiful crow lines appear once more and the sight of both of your tails swaying happily is a tell-tale sign hes done the right choice.
He's quick to get back up, walking to the door before stopping and turning back to say; "My room, at nine exactly. Alright?"
You're both quick to say yes and despite his cool demeanor as he leaves, Price feels hard as a rock as the first blooms of heat start back in his stomach. A feeling he hasn't felt in ages, but that can wait for later tonight. He wouldn't be a captain without all that self-discipline, after all.
So its when Price comes to the dark of his room, a little worn out, he surprised to suddenly see a nest, and you and Soap sitting on his bed with only the moon light to illuminate your features. And coo he does because he melts at the sight that you both waited for him.
You're the first to pull him in with a grin, your tail wrapping around his waist as you and Soap are quick to strip him down until hes left in a shirt and boxers. But hes quick to push you down onto your back in the nest as he sits on your lap, Soap he behind Price, kissing down his back as his tail wags.
But as you look up at Price, he looks like a beauty, and your hand gently traces down from his chin, to his toned yet supple and beautifuy scared chest, to his stomach, caressing the pudge as you whisper praise. And it. Makes Prices face burn with pride at the fact someone accepts him and his appearance, something he didn't think he'd be self conscious on.
Soap continues quick and sloppy kisses up his back, leaving soft nips and bites on him, leaving it mostly betweem you and Price. He loves both of you but you had both discussed the idea before. You wanted to pamper Price, and make him feel higher then cloud 9.
And you did, each kiss, and bite, began to switch as Price was switched around by Soap. And you easily pulled Price's hips towards you and kissed his ass, making Price groan in response. The sound cut short as Soap began to kiss him, stroking your cock in the meantime to keep you satisfied as well. It was his turn to assist.
"Fuck- Price- So fuckin' pretty for us." Soap groans out to price, and you can only agree, pressing kisses up his neck as his tail makes soft noises against the nest as it wags aggressively against it.
Price only moans a little, his hips still bucking into your mouth as your tongue is quick, and perfectly long enough to reach deep into him inside, his dragoh tail is quick to curl around your neck and slightly squeeze lovingly. The way you and Soap praise Price and his body makes him melt. Hes an old lad, scales of iron from how the world has hardened him and yet you make him so soft.
So loved.
So accepted.
He thought he was content with 141 but knowing that two of the members in it are his mates? He can only purr.
Its when Soap slides down and suck off Price whilst hes still sitting on your face does he lose it. Not knowing where to buck his hips either back and forth, and instead sways them. His claws tugging at Soaps hair and your hands wrapped tightly on his hips, bits of blood is evident from your claws but neither notice.
Its when you suddenly slide in a finger that Price goes almost limp, his tail squeezes a little tighter and his moans get louder. Damn the thin walls because tonight he knows hes going to be fucked well in his nest.
And in his eyes thats a night well spent.
Aftermath; By morning Gaz is the first of the 141 to complain. Small eyebags under his eyes as he stares at you, Soap, and Price.
"Fucked real good huh? Give me some earplugs next time alright?" He remarks, drinking some coffee, Ghost watches but said nothing. But theres something about the way his smoke slides up his arm at the words 'fucked', before sliding back down, gives you slight curiosity.
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nixoon-again · 1 month
Text
This was a bad idea.
Sonic usually prides himself in his chill and easy going nature and his calm demeanour, it's not really that easy to get him riled up. He doesn't like being angry either, his love for freedom includes feeling free too — not burdened down with some infuriating people and their meaningless rants or whatever engaging acts they participate in and absolutely not any of it being given more than a second long stay in his mind, no. Sonic doesn't like that. He prefers to stay clear of such things as much as he can. 
If the bulging vein on his forehead has to say anything, unfortunately, this is not one of those situations where he can just up and leave.
No because he's stuck here, forced to sit around this stupid dinner table by the absurdity of the situation. Really, how did he even get here? Why did he let it get to this point? When has Sonic ever conformed to the groundless rules of a stupid village to solve a problem before? Why was this one any different? In fact, by all logical means, Sonic shouldn't even have bothered to ask these villagers for anything at all. He should've gotten the work done and over with, giving very little — which is none — thought to the customs and formalities of these absolute nutcases.
This is Westside Island after all.
He shouldn't have expected anything else from these guys.
Sonic knows very little of what these lunatics did to Tails in his earlier years and what he does know of it already makes him want to burn the entire village down. Right now? The urge is stronger than ever.
Today he has learnt a lot more about what exactly they did to his little brother than he has in the four years of knowing and raising Tails.
The only thing keeping Sonic from lashing out right now is his little brother's small hand resting on top of his own.
He doesn't know how Tails is keeping his composure right now because Chaos knows Sonic's ever-deepening scowl is going to become something these people are always going to associate him with. The kid is acting like the constant insults and accusations don't even affect him — which is, yeah, good! They shouldn't because they're meaningless lies hurled at his way by people who don't even possess a quarter of his IQ. But this is getting out of hand and Sonic doesn't know how long he can tell himself that these words don't matter because they're not aimed at him, they're aimed at his little brother.
His little brother who just so happens to be the smartest, kindest, bravest person in the whole world. His little brother that these people abandoned as a literal baby, starving and abusing him to the point Sonic still has damage left to undo after all these years. His little brother who he will not hear any foul words about.
Tails’ grip on his hand tightens.
He must've noticed the hedgehog's quills sharpening. The kit's signalling him to calm down.
Right… He can't let his anger overcome him now. Not after they're so close to finishing their job here and going back home, hopefully never having to even look in this place's general direction again. He can't forget the actual reason he agreed to talk with these people; to get information since the duo aren't allowed to investigate the situation freely as outsiders.
Fate must really hate Sonic though because it just so happens to be that the guy who can actually give them any valuable information is someone Sonic never thought he'd ever come face to face with in a million years.
Tails’ father.
(He cringes internally, oh how wrong it feels to refer to the man as his kid's father.)
The resemblance between father and son is uncanny; no matter how much Sonic tries to tell himself this guy is just another fox, he can never convince himself as such. Not when he has the same ocean blue eyes, sparkling with wisdom and tactic. The same shade of orange fur dissolves into dark browns and blacks at the tips of his ears and between his eyes. The way he talks, the way he sits, the way he moves and the way his singular tail swishes behind him gently. His voice, his manners, his accent, his tone — it's all Tails.
It's infuriating. 
It feels unsettling.
Because this man is so unlike his little brother that he feels uneasy under his gaze, that shade of soft blue doesn't deserve to hold such contempt and malice in it. His facial features resemble Tails’ so much and yet he scowls and sneers where the kit is always laughing and smiling — the man may be related to his little brother and his little brother may have gotten his appearance from the older fox but there's definitely a stark contrast between them. The difference between one's unforgiving cruelty and the other's mellow kindness is shocking when placed side by side.
“That's the most I can tell you at this hour,” the man says as if he's granted them great knowledge when barely any of what he just said was something other than an insult directed towards Tails, “I wish I could do more to help you but as the village's rules stand, there's very little I can allow you to do here when you've brought that thing along, Mr. Hedgehog.”
For whatever reason, people on Westside Island like to tell Sonic that they would've helped him as much as they can if it wasn't for the fact that he brought his partner with him. They're so adamant that everything would've been such a streamlined process if it was only Sonic asking to investigate the village. 
As if.
He knows talking back to the man would later have Tails scolding him but the temptation is too great to not jab at the nonchalant fox, “You know, maybe you wouldn't have all these problems suddenly spiking up if you didn't treat a literal child like some thing to be disposed of.”
“I believe you don't understand our history at all.” The guy has the audacity to sigh, “Treating a curse as a child is welcoming death with open arms. In fact, I believe all these problems are suddenly spiking up because you decided to bring that freak back here.”
And oh boy, that makes Sonic’s left eye twitch in a way that gives away the fact that he's about to throw hands.
He would've too, if it weren't for the sudden surprise of Tails standing up to his father.
“I'm not a freak…” His voice is small, but so so certain and it makes Sonic's heart swell with pride. A small smile graces the hedgehog's muzzle as he gives Tails’ hand a squeeze.
Unfortunately, the moment is short lived.
Because of course Tails’ father has something to shoot them down with again.
“And is that why your mother died, Miles? Is that how you're going to kill Sonic too?”
The room goes silent.
Sonic feels Tails' vice-like grip on his hand tightens to the point it must've hurt at those words. He can feel the kit's claws through his gloves, as he holds Sonic's hand like his life depends on it.
Instinctively, Sonic turns his head just enough to take a look at the younger boy sitting to his left.
Tails has his head hanging low, his bangs cast a shadow upon his eyes but Sonic still catches sight of big, fat tears rolling down his muzzle.
And that's it.
That's the final straw.
Sonic doesn't know what overcomes him next.
His mind goes blank for a moment as his body moves on its own, taking his hand away from Tails and putting his entire weight into his fist as his curled up hand connects with the older fox's jaw with such force it knocks him out of his chair, leaving him disgracefully sprawled on the wooden floor. A pained noise escapes the man as he crashes down with the chair he's been sitting on and oh, is it music to Sonic's ears.
The older fox holds his muzzle, his glove staining red as Sonic takes a slow and calculated step forward — a dangerous aura surrounds the hedgehog, emerald green glinting with so much hatred and ill intent that it sends shivers running down the man's spine.
Sonic raises his fist again and Chaos knows he wouldn't have let the fox scramble with just a few punches, he doubts the man could even get up on his own after what Sonic wants to do to him but fate seems to be in the fox's favour as Tails grabs Sonic's upper arm and effectively pulls him back.
“Sonic, stop it!” The kit still has tears in his eyes, his voice cracks a bit but he manages to mask it well in favour of stopping his older brother from possibly committing first degree murder.
Tails drags Sonic back to his side but the hedgehog still has his murderous glare fixated on the older fox who has barely managed to even sit back up on the floor.
“That's enough, we're leaving. Come on.” Tails speaks fast, his eyes dashing between Sonic and the door as takes a big step and tries to pull his older brother with him. Except Sonic doesn't budge, still glaring down at his father who has denied to match him with one of his own. Tails looks at the hedgehog, almost pleading if it weren't for his stern tone, “Sonic.”
The addressed hedgehog opens his mouth to say something, seemingly to the older mobian but decides against it when he feels Tails pull at his hand again.
Sonic lets out a huff, brows knitting.
He disregards his anger and frustration to listen to Tails — Tails wants to leave, he's clearly too uncomfortable in here for Sonic to be pulling these stunts.
“Let's go.” Sonic says, interlocking his fingers with Tails’ as they both leave the place.
Mr. Prower thinks things would've been better if Sonic didn't bring Tails with him? If it weren't for Tails, Sonic would've made sure Tails actually didn't have a father anymore.
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toomuchracket · 2 months
Text
if you're too shy (office nerd!matty x reader fluff)
in which the other music journalist at the magazine you work at is the cutest weird boy you've ever met. enjoy <3
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in hindsight, coming back from a two-week holiday the same day the magazine goes to print was a misguided idea.
your editor-in-chief tells you as much when you enter the office, pulling you into a half hug. “don't get me wrong, it's lovely to see you,” she says, scraping her hair back into a bun and securing it with a pencil. “but you'll be doing nothing all day, i'm afraid. maybe some last minute proofing, but i think everyone in nightlife and reviews has been alright. double-check with marianne.”
you do just that, weaving your way through people running copy and coffee between departments until you reach your own. it's mercifully quiet compared to everywhere else, the ten or so people dotted at desks around the sunlit room looking at their laptops and wearing headphones; you actually have to flick marianne on the back of the head to get her to notice you. “oi.”
“who the- oh, hi!” marianne's face softens when she sees it's you, and she stands to pull you into one of her infamously bone-crushing hugs before pulling back to get a good look. “well, you look annoyingly well-rested. but i suppose a fortnight in a spanish villa will do that to you. bitch.”
“i had a great time, thanks for asking,” you grin. “how’s everything been with you? stressful, without your star reporter?”
“well, for starters, you've been succeeded for that title.”
you frown only half-jokingly, scanning the room to try and guess which of your colleagues has replaced you as marianne's unofficial favourite. “who the fuck…?”
“language,” she lightly slaps your arm, in spite of the fact she was just about to say the same thing, then smiles suspiciously. “and i’m talking about our newest recruit.”
the brewing annoyance in your stomach dissipates immediately, replaced by a flock of tiny butterflies. “oh,” you try to keep your smile to a minimum. “that's okay. i like him.”
marianne sees right through you, though. she rolls her eyes. “oh, you would.”
“what?”
she sighs, motioning for you to lower your voice and modifying her own to a whisper. “he’s a curly-haired pretty-eyed vaguely scrawny white boy. you'd like him even if he didn't think the sun shone out of your arse.”
“marianne!” you hiss. “he does not!”
“don’t act all indignant, he has literally looked over at you once every thirty seconds since you walked in - and don't look, idiot, you'll freak him out. we need him on the ball, today of all days,” she rubs her eyes. “but yes, he’s very good at his job. i like him, even if i've no idea what in the world he goes off on his tangents about. great writer.”
“yeah, he is,” you risk a glance towards him, but all you can see is the back of his laptop - covered in stickers for things you can only name half of - and dark curls peeking out from the side of his headphones. “i like the references. different perspective from me, innit? that's why we hired him, after all.”
“who's we? you were too pissed off that i was hiring another music critic to agree to be part of the interviewing panel.”
you'd love to disagree, but you really were pissed when marianne and the other editors told you they were expanding the nightlife section. it didn't matter that it was in response to an increase in funding and readership, with the magazine switching to a print format as well as the online edition you'd contributed to since its creation - your fierce independence and pride meant you didn't take the news well, made you think it was an issue with your competence and writing ability that meant you'd be getting a new colleague. but once you were reassured that you'd still get to keep the Big Gigs and restaurant reviews to yourself, you were slightly more agreeable to the idea.
and once you actually met the new guy, stumbling over both his words and his own feet as he introduced himself, you couldn't quite remember why you'd been opposed in the first place.
“well,” you say, snapping back into reality. “thank goodness i'm over it now.”
“because you want to get under him?”
“no!” you stand indignantly, and then grin. “on top, maybe.”
“good grief,” your boss shakes her head. “don't you go bringing it up to him - excuse the pun - before this edition goes to the printers,” she points at you as you move to walk away. “or talking to him at all until then, actually, you hear me? i love you, but you're a distraction to him, and he's my best journo.”
“he's not, but alright,” you pat her head as you walk back towards the door. “i'll be in the staff room if you need me. and i won't talk to anyone, mum, i promise.”
“i'm only five years older than you!”
“whatever you say!” you reply in a singsongy voice, giggling to yourself as you wander towards the sunny kitchen. the little radio on the windowsill is on, as it always is, and you nod along to the cure while you wait for the kettle to boil. once you've made a cuppa (and grabbed a slack handful of the chocolate digestives marianne always keeps the cupboard stocked with), you settle at the table with your laptop, typing out ideas for your next feature and doing your best not to think about the boy down the corridor you've been instructed not to talk to for the time being. for the most part, you succeed.
that is, until he walks into the staff room two hours later.
you frantically wipe your face of biscuit crumbs as he does, smiling as sweetly as you can for someone with no idea if she has chocolate on her teeth or not. “hi, matty. how are you?”
“oh, hi! i'm, uh, i'm alright,” matty smiles widely enough that his verbal emotional downplaying is blatant - still, he's so cute, beaming at you like that with his little sweater paws. he’s always in a jumper or cardigan or hoodie of some kind, and on more than one occasion in the three months you've known him, you've absolutely thought about literally cosying up into him instead of doing any work. “how was spain? and the wedding - it was a family wedding you were going to, yeah?”
“that's right,” it’s not a big deal, but you glow at the fact he remembered. or maybe it's the soft intent he looks at you with. “it was lovely, yeah. although - wait, have we gone to print?” you ask, suddenly recalling marianne's instructions. “i'm not keeping you from work?”
matty's curls bounce as he shakes his head, light hitting off the metal hoop in his earlobe (that you're only mildly obsessed with). “we've gone. i'm just in here to get my lunch,” he pulls a tupperware from the fridge, cheeks rosy as he waves it. “made some soup last night.”
he makes his own soup. the thought is so endearing that it takes everything in you not to sigh; you settle for a smile. “carrot and coriander?”
“you can tell from one glance?”
you shrug. “s'my favourite.”
“really?” matty's face seems to light up. “mine too,” he busies himself with putting the tupperware in the microwave, taking his time pressing buttons and turning dials before looking bashfully at you. “so, you had a nice time at the wedding, then?”
“i did, thank you. do you, um,” you start, suddenly shy. “d'you want to see some photos from it, while you're waiting for the soup to heat up?”
he nods back just as shyly, sitting quite awkwardly on the seat next to yours; while you open your photos app, matty twists a stray curl around his finger, and the movement seems to send your nerves into vibration as well as the molecules in the air. with a series of shallow breaths, you locate the folder of the wedding pictures and set your phone on the table. “feel free to flick through them, if you like.”
“thank you,” matty sits forward, carefully swiping through the album. you lean on your elbow, doing your best not to beam adoringly at the way he looks intently at each photo before moving to the next. “the venue is really beautiful.”
“yeah, it was stunning.”
the next picture is one of you in your bridesmaid dress, taken by your sister the morning of the wedding. you watch, slightly heartsick, as matty's mouth falls open as he looks at you; the feeling worsens when he tentatively does the same thing in real life, those pretty eyes of his sparkling as he smiles softly. “so are you. really. like,” he looks down at the photo again, shaking his head slightly before looking back up at you. “that colour is beautiful on you. honest. you look incredible.”
“thank you,” the words come out in a whisper, and the two of you silently smile at each other for a moment until you clear your throat. “um, there are more of the official pics on my instagram, let me… actually, do you have my private account?”
“oh, no,” matty shakes his head again - god, you love the way his hair moves. “just the one for your writing.”
“well,” you tap on the app with an almost-imperceptibly shaky finger. “that's the username there, if you'd like to follow. no pressure, of course. don’t wanna fuck up your algorithms or anything.”
your nervous chuckle at the end of the sentence turns to a giggle when you see matty's face as you share your username; it lights up so much that you'd be forgiven for thinking he'd just won the lottery. he pulls his own phone out and taps away at it. “you don't have to follow me back, by the way,” his cheeks flush a deep red, a beautiful colour. “m'not posting anything interesting.”
doubtful. he might be one of the most interesting people you've ever met, all talent and sweetness and a wealth of cultural understanding wrapped up in a sweater and a pretty face. “no, i'd like to.”
“alright. thank you,” matty's cheeks seem to get even redder as he watches you hit follow back, face twitching as though he’s trying to stop himself smiling too big. when the microwave dings, he all but skips over to it, almost tripping over the leg of his chair in a sweetly awkward way; he swears under his breath when he lifts the steaming container out, turning back sheepishly to look at you. “sorry.”
“don't worry,” you grin at him, feeling slightly bold. “i still think you're sweet when you swear.”
he giggles, and the noise makes your heart leap; in addition to being one of the most interesting people you think you've ever met, matty healy is without doubt the cutest. watching his lips pout in concentration as he stirs the soup and checks the temperature, you briefly imagine what they would feel like against your own, how he would be if the two of you were to kiss. just as giggly and endearingly awkward as he usually is, you think - eager to please, lips and tongue a little sloppy and unsure but enthusiastic enough for you not to mind, slightly unsure of where to put his hands so as to not make you uncomfortable… the scene is as clear as day in your head, and you really, really want to recreate it. you'd devour him right now if you could, the sweetheart.
and then, matty reaches up to get a bowl from the shelf, the hem of his shirt goes with him, and your want to devour him suddenly takes on a less pg-rated meaning than it did a second ago.
he has a fucking hip tattoo.
you’re pretty sure it's only a sliver of the full design you can actually see, but the hints of red and blue and black ink and the glimpse of his happy trail are enough to fuck you up completely. as you register what you're seeing - what you're discovering about the seemingly buttoned-up, shy, unassuming-to-everyone-but-you matty - your breath catches in your throat, forcing you to cough quite obviously on the mouthful of lukewarm tea you'd just taken. one cough turns into another, and you clap a hand over your mouth to make your tattoo reaction attack the least obvious it can be.
still, the ever-perceptive man across the kitchen notices, running over to crouch in front of you with concern filling those beautiful eyes of his. “you alright, darling?”
darling?! no, you most certainly aren't alright.
but you can't tell matty that, so you stick to gesturing to let him know you'll reply once you've managed to swallow your tea. “i am, yeah, thanks. tea just, y'know, went down the wrong way.”
matty tilts his head. “you sure?”
“yeah,” you smile, slightly embarrassed. “really. thank you, though.”
“of course,” he smiles in return, knee brushing lightly against your leg as he steadies himself; he looks down, eyes widening as he registers how close the two of you are, and quickly stands. “i'd better, y'know, get my lunch.”
you nod, despite the strange loneliness settling into your bones at the lack of him next to you. “i can head back to the office, if you want peace?”
“no, no, please stay!” matty all but gasps, turning to look at you like a deer caught in headlights - he clears his throat, blinking a few times before speaking again. “please don't feel the need to leave on my account, i mean. or feel obliged to talk, really - i was just going to read.”
“you're sure i won't be a bother to you?”
matty smiles warmly, shaking his head. “that'll never happen.”
christ.
“okay,” you whisper, winking at him - and savouring the little giggle that bubbles out of him when you do - before turning back to your laptop. 
matty settles at the table a minute or so later, pulling a paperback from his back pocket and holding it open quite attractively with one hand. you peek over the rim of your laptop at him every so often, never for more than a couple of seconds at a time; partially to avoid the mortification of him catching you, but mostly because if you look at him any longer you know your mind will wander back to that fucking hip tattoo of his, and what it might look like completely visible to you, and what it might feel like under your lips, and what noises matty might make if you slowly dragged your tongue all over it before moving to the side to lick a wavy line up the length of his-
enough. he's literally right there.
the room feels hot, all of a sudden, your cheeks flushing and throat drying to match. on only slightly shaky legs, you pick up your waterbottle and head to the water fountain, crouching as best you can to fill it. even though he stays silent, you can feel matty’s eyes on you from across the room, but it doesn't bother you or freak you out in the way that other men ogling you at a water fountain would - it's quite obvious that matty has some sort of more-than-platonic affection for you, but his gaze has always been one of appreciation and awe when it comes to you, not the predatory one you've come to expect from men. and yet, his is the only male gaze that makes you feel slightly nervous, unused to being looked at with such reverence and tenderness by an attractive boy; in complete contrast, though, it also makes you lower your guard, pull down the bricks from the wall you've built around your heart, and allow yourself to actually feel something for matty, for once. something good, honest, promising.
matty looks up from his book as you sit down, smiling pleasantly. he opens his mouth as if to talk, and then closes it immediately, shaking his head slightly.
this intrigues you. “you okay, matty?”
“hmm? oh, yeah, i was just thinking,” his cheeks go a shade of pink you would buy in blush form if you could find it. “when you were first talking about the wedding… you said although, and then we got off-topic slightly. what, um, what were you going to say, if you don't mind me asking?”
“oh, right,” you wrack your brain, doing your best to not get distracted by how cute you find his perception. “i think i was going to say something about how, as good as it all was, there's nothing like a family wedding to remind you of how single you are.”
his jaw falls open. “you… you don't have a boyfriend? wait, sorry,” he blinks. “or a partner?”
you shake your head, biting the inside of your lip to stop yourself smiling. “no boyfriend, no. and thus, constantly advised by a never-ending flock of aunts that i should get one so i could get married.”
“christ,” matty winces. “yeah, my cousin's getting married in a couple of months - not looking forward to everyone asking me when i'm going to meet a nice girl and settle down, as if i can answer.”
no girlfriend. how interesting. “you're single? really?”
he rolls his eyes, still smiling at you. “be serious. course i am.”
“i am being serious! that surprises me,” you lean on one elbow, tilting your head to look at him. “you're lovely, matty.”
matty’s eyes widen, and he blinks adorably a few times before he smiles shyly again. “thank you. i think the same about you.”
“you do?”
he simply nods, total sincerity in those pretty eyes. 
you feel your cheeks warm, but you make no effort to hide it. “thank you.”
matty shrugs. “just telling the truth, darling,” he looks panicked when he realises what he's said. “sorry for calling you that, twice, it just-”
“i like it, matty, it's alright,” you say reassuringly. “and i like-”
“oh, thank god you're both here,” marianne bursts into the room, carrying her laptop; you frown petulantly at her for ruining your moment, but shuffle your chair round closer to matty's so she can sit at the table too. “something weird’s happening.”
matty squints. “what d'you mean by weird?”
marianne pushes her laptop towards you both. “there's overlap in your planned reviews - the band you're going to see at the end of next week, matthew, have just been announced as the opener for the next Big Gig. i need to know how we want to go about this.”
“oh,” he looks at you. “i don't mind if you want to just review them as part of yours.”
you're shaking your head vehemently before he even finishes talking. “no, that's not fair,” you tap your lips with your index finger the way you always do when you concentrate, trying to ignore the glow within your body when you see matty looking at them from the corner of your eye; inspiration strikes, and you turn to marianne. “matty could come with me, couldn't he? if he reviews their headline gig, and then he does a follow-up review of their opening set in the Big Gig feature - we could just do a joint byline, work together on it.”
both of them turn to look at you in slight shock. marianne is the first to speak, her words trickling out slowly as she processes the fact you've just agreed to let someone else work on a Big Gig for the first time. “you're… happy with that?”
“if matty is, yeah,” you turn to him, smiling. “sound alright?”
he beams. “more than. thank you.”
“of course,” you turn back to the boss. “there you go. sorted.”
she sighs, relieved. “thank goodness for that. alright,” she stands, picking up her laptop and heading back to the main office. “i'll coordinate press passes. thanks for making that simple - you're both stars.”
“anytime!” you call after her, before turning back to matty. “you're sure you're happy to do this? i realise i've just given you more work to do, but…”
he laughs, a beautiful sound. “nah, i don't mind. also,” he shuffles in his seat, bashful again. “i actually have a spare ticket for the first show, if you'd like it - bought it before i saw it was on the review roster. doesn't seem fair that i get to go to two gigs while you only get one, i think. i mean, no pressure, obviously, but the offer's there.”
god, he’s so fucking cute. how could you ever say no to him? “i'd like that a lot, matty, thank you,” you beam at him. “i think us working together is going to be a lot of fun.”
matty beams back just as enthusiastically. “i think so too.”
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