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#I wanted to channel that. Because really what do you even do with the hours before you go to battle.
meo-eiru · 7 hours
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What's ur inspo for art? ur art style is so cute... any art advice?? Jajsjdkkaka, I understand if u wanna gatekeep 👁👁
I meant to answer this several days ago but couldn't find it in the sea of asks welp
Anyway as I mentioned before we don't gatekeep art related stuff in this household, artists help other artists.
Honestly it's hard to name an inspo but I do have artists I look up to a lot (this might be a bit long)
Kanisuke, you guys might be familiar with her, she's the artist of the upcoming yandere inside game Yandere Town. I know it's not out yet but I'm actually obsessed with this game and have even translated all the character intros (they are a bit old atp so there might be some mistakes) and actually if you see a Yandere Town related post high chance it's from me. Not only her art but I love her writing style as well.
Hakuri-sensei, their manga Sachi iro no One Room is definitely one of my biggest inspirations. I love the relationship between Sachi and her "captor" and it's the only manga I actually cried my eyes out while reading.
Tayu-sensei, all of their work for Yuugen Romantica (one of my fav drama cd series) are breathtaking and they've also developed even more since then, their current works are just so stunning and I love studying the way they draw hair
Shirahama-sensei, she👏is👏a👏queen👏 honestly I don't have much to say, go read Witch Hat Atelier it's an artistic masterpiece and a giant love letter to art itself
Furumi-sensei, another queen! She's the artist of my favorite Fate Grand Order character Ashiya Douman. I've even bough her art books before, honestly she is just so talented. I don't know what she was drinking when she came up with Douman but I need some of it
Usagi Routo-sense, another fgo artist AND JUST LOOK AT HOW INCREDIBLE THEY ARE AT USING COLORS LIKE??? HOW??? Their art is like cocain for my eyes I could look at them for hours
AU, one more fgo artist and oh my god guys this person right here is one of my biggest inspirations just look at their drawings. I'm not kidding I actually spent hours just inspecting how they shade outfits. I'd sacrifice my soul just to get a chance to watch them draw live
☝︎ FAN, an Ashiya Douman fanartist and god guys the comics they draw!!! They are the cause of some of my current biggest fetishes ngl
Oyo-sensei, an fgo artist and is also the main artist of 18trip. They have such a clean art style that's very pleasing to the eye. I especially love the reference sheets they draw.
Shibatora-sensei, she is the artist of my FAVORITE drama cd series Shinai naru Thanatos and my overall favorite yandere character from any fiction Seo Eito. Honestly if you know me irl probably the first thing you'd mention about me would be my chronic Shinai naru Thanatos addiction because based on what everyone says I start speaking about it within 2 weeks of meeting someone new.
ORKA, the artist of A Stepmother's Marchen. Anyone who knows that manhwa probably knows why she's on this list, her art has so much soul and passion in it, literally every single panel looks like a painting and it makes me want to cry just looking at it
82 Pigeon, an incredible incredible Korean artist, I think they also give art lessons? I really tried to get them but couldn't figure out how. They also have a youtube channel and I learn a lot just by watching their speedpaints
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a2zillustration · 4 months
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A little rooftop conversation
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yieldtotemptation · 1 month
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RITUAL ft. Yujin
yujin x male reader smut
7k words
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Let’s be clear: you’re well aware of what a monumentally stupid idea this is.
For you, it’s just a job. You’ve been fired from plenty before, and there will be plenty more after.
But for her, for Yujin, it’s her career. Her life. Her everything.
And yet, here, in the cramped confines of a bathroom stall, your hand on her ass and hers diving down your jeans; you can’t let go of the nagging suspicion that maybe that’s the fucking point.
“How much time do we have?” Yujin’s lips are on your neck, tiny, hot breaths tickling your skin, nimble fingers at your waist, negotiating with your zipper.
“We had fifteen minutes, an hour ago,” you remind her. “We’re gonna miss soundcheck.”
“It’ll be fine.” Yujin’s unbothered, dismissive of anything that isn’t freeing your cock from its denim prison. “They’ll wait for me. They always do.”
There’s that hint of arrogance, that unshakeable confidence of youth, the invincibility that comes with being that absurdly hot. You can’t blame her at all for it.
What Yujin wants, she gets. You've seen it first hand.
It’s one of the many things you’ve learned about her over the past few weeks.
Well one of the few that don’t concern how good her cunt feels when she rides you, or how her eyes roll to the back of her head when you hit that spot just right, or the way her voice goes hoarse when she screams your name.
“Oh, it’s so perfect.”  Yujin’s seen your cock before, tasted it, taken it, had it in every way possible (in every place available), yet that still doesn’t stop her eyes from lighting up the second she sees it springing out from the waistband of your briefs, standing tall and throbbing painfully. “I’d say this is worth being late for.”
You’ve got a groan for her when she takes you into her hand, her grip firm and familiar. A half-hearted protest, too: “Yeah, but if we’re late, Princess Yujin gets a slap on the wrist, whereas I get fired.”
Yujin scoffs at that. “Well, I am your boss, so I think I get the last say if it comes down to it.”
Part of you wants to correct her, wants to explain that technically you’re not her employee but an independent contractor hired by the touring company. However, that part of you needs to shut the hell up, because the intricacies of employment contracts for musicians-for-hire really don’t seem pertinent at this moment.
Regardless, it all becomes trivial in the face of Yujin. So annoyingly, unfairly pretty, not even the unflattering harshness of the bathroom lights are capable of marring her in the slightest.
You’d probably give her the world if she asked.
She’d happily settle for your dick.
Her hand’s moving now, her fingers dancing around your shaft, exploring the contours of your cock from base to tip, and she's forcing you to resign, “Your logic, as always, is flawless.”
“See?” Yujin smiles up at you, that wide, confident grin that’s graced a million posters, been on every magazine cover and TV channel, and is now laser focused on you. “I’m always right, aren’t I?”
Her point's made with a squeeze around your length, stroking you in earnest, building to a rhythm that’s become so familiar over the past week—quick and precise, dangerously efficient. Like she was made for this. Made to tease your cock. As natural for her as breathing, really.
Yujin’s had plenty of practice, after all—on the morning of every concert, in the evening back at her hotel, on tour buses and in dressing rooms. On a plane once, even. It's the same torrid routine that’s now become a required pre-show ritual. A quiet spot, a secluded room, and she steals you away, bringing you to the brink and back.
And to think it all started because she asked you to help her ‘calm her nerves’.  
Or more correctly, fuck all the worries and concerns out of her pretty little head.
Still, she's never pushed it this far, never cut it this close.
You lean back against the stall door, your breath catching in your throat, the cheap plastic giving slightly under the pressure. Outside you can hear it, hear the bustling sounds of the venue coming to life—staff moving about, the distant roar of fans, the occasional clang of sound equipment. But in here, it’s overpowered by the noisiness of her palm sliding along your shaft, slick with her saliva, and it fills the small space, echoing across the cold tiles beneath your feet.
She’s undeniable—you know you’ve spoilt her. You’ve let her get her way with you far too many times, let her push this arrangement past any semblance of professionalism. Let her poison your mind with whispered sweet nothings that have you pounding her into the nearest available surface whenever she gets a twitch of stage fright.
But you’re also acutely aware of the fact that without these moments, without the promise of her tight, wet cunt wrapped around your cock, you’d be out there on that stage sleepwalking through just another concert with nothing but a drum kit and a bunch of songs you could play with your eyes closed.
“Fucking hell, Yujin, you look too good doing that,” you manage to get out, doing your best to endure her fingers gliding along your length, to last under the microscope of Yujin's dark, hungry eyes.
Another thing about Yujin: there's a special thrill she gets just from watching you, eyes glued to your face, taking in every single nuance of agony she’s wringing out.
“So fucking—” you settle on the most obvious word in your lexicon, “pretty.”
Yujin keens at the praise, her cheeks flush a deeper shade of pink, her teeth grazes the soft skin of her bottom lip. It's hardly new for her to hear this, to have people rave about how she's the hottest piece of ass this side of the equator. Yet there's something about hearing it from you that has her eating up your words every time. "Am I, now?"
You nod, voice momentarily failing you as she pumps your cock, her grip never wavering, never faltering, like she’s milking you, milking words of adulation from your lips.
You still haven't pinned down exactly what it is about you that unwinds Yujin, that makes her chase you so hard. Maybe it's because you're slightly older, a touch more mature than the usual plastic smiles that try to charm her out of her pants.
Or maybe it's because you said 'no' the first time she sniffed in your direction, and then made her scream 'yes' every time after.
Whatever it is, it has Yujin’s other hand reaching up to fiddle with the choker at her neck, flooding your mind with memories of your hand around her throat, her gagging on your length, her eyes watering while you fuck her face.
“And what about this outfit?” She asks, oh-so-innocently. “You think the fans will like it?”
“Yujin,” you say, like she doesn’t already know the very obvious answer. You’ve seen her in it all—tiny hot pants, tight little bralettes, that fucking leather catsuit. Yujin’s a fucking goddess in anything she wears, even a blind man would burn from the sheer heat radiating from her body. “You look fucking incredible, as always.”
“But?”
“No buts.”
“I heard a ‘but’,” Yujin ponders, her hand still working your cock like it’s her favourite toy. “Like: ‘but the shorts are too short, and everyone’s gonna see my cheeks when I bend over’.”
A blatant invitation to take a glance, to look down, down at those denim shorts so tight against her curves, the fabric stretched so taut that it might split open at any moment. Look down at her thick thighs, the way they flex and release as she jerks you off, every movement making the material cling tighter to her skin, moulding themselves around the outline of her perfect, round ass, those juicy cheeks that you’ve had the honour of spanking and biting and bruising.
“Or is it: ‘but your top is cut too low, your tits are gonna spill right out’?”
She’s drawing your gaze upwards, over that smooth, creamy expanse of skin, her stomach flat and toned, up the thin fabric of her flimsy excuse for a shirt, that dips just enough to tease the tops of her breasts, squeezed together and pushed up by her bra. It's so thin, wrapped so tight around her, highlighting the faint outline of her nipples poking through, already stiffened and calling for your tongue.
“Or maybe it’s: ‘the outfit looks good, looks nice and slutty, but you’d much rather rip it off me and just fucking ruin me like I deserve?'"
Yeah, that’s more like it.
You take that as permission, and reach for the hem of her top, eager to finally see those tits, to feel their warm weight in your palms, to have her stripped and laid bare like she knows you’d love to. But Yujin’s too quick, slapping your hand away with a laugh.
“But unfortunately, there’ll be none of that, drummer boy.” Yujin stops, her grip on your cock tightening for a brief, painful second. “Can’t have you ruining my outfit before I go on stage, can I?”
There’s a challenge there, a test to see if you’ll argue, maybe grab her, throw her against the wall and show her just how little of a fuck you give about anything that takes place outside of this toilet stall. But you know she’s right. You're the adult here, remember? Besides there’ll be plenty of time for that later.
You settle for her lips, leaning down, pressing the pad of your thumb against her chin. You tilt her head up towards yours, only for Yujin to pull back, leaving you kissing air. “Seriously?”
Yujin grins, clearly delighting in denying you again, in making your blood boil and cock throb. “Can’t ruin the make-up either,” she explains, making sure to bat her long, fake lashes for extra effect.
“So, I take it that means the pigtails are off limits too?” You ask, idly toying with the ludicrously slutty hairstyle that’s framing her face, bobbing slightly with every stroke she gives you.
“Now you’re learning.”
So, with a frustrated grunt, you keep your hands at your sides, resigning yourself to Yujin’s sweet torture. It’s maddening, just standing there, panting and so horny, at the mercy of Yujin’s slow strokes. “And no concern for my outfit, whatsoever.”
Yujin’s eyes wander over your choice of clothing, and laughs, rather insultingly, if you're honest. “I’m sure all the fans will be very focused on the drummer’s fashion choices,” she says, trusting you to pick up on the sarcasm.
You feign injury. “Ouch, I put a lot of thought into my clothing.”
“Sure you do. Thoughts like: how easy will it be for your little fuck buddy to tear them off?” Yujin’s thumb finds that sensitive spot just beneath the head of your cock, swiping over it with a smugness that’s both infuriating and incredibly hot.
“You’re going to get it later for that one,” you warn, your hand curling into a fist.
“Oh, I know.”
Yujin picks up the pace, her hand a blur, running up and down your shaft, fingers sliding across your slit, smearing the pre-cum that’s beaded there over your cockhead. And there’s a glint in her eye, that needy look that tells you she’s getting off on this, getting off on having you, having someone she shouldn’t be left alone with, squirm and beg and be so desperate for her.
“Look how big you are for me, daddy.”
There’s that word, that sweet, sweet ‘daddy’.
The first time she called you it was an accident, a slip of the tongue during a particularly intense moment when you had her against the window of her hotel, tits squashed against the glass, cunt dripping with your cum. But every time since, it’s been deliberate, calculated, a button she knows she can push to make you give it to her as rough as she wants; as rough as she craves.
“Look how big you are in my tiny hand.” She’s got you moaning now, melting between her fingers, bucking your hips for that extra bit of friction. “You love it when I jerk you like this, don’t you, daddy?”
‘Daddy’ again, rolling off her tongue like a fucking love letter, a song to send your head spinning and your cock pulsing in her hand.
There’s another challenge, can you last a little bit longer? Can you resist the urge to cum all over her fingers? Paint her pretty nails a fresh shade of white? Or would you rather wrap your hand around her lovely neck and force her to admit that she loves all this just as much as you do.
You swallow down the groan that’s building in your throat, your teeth grinding together to maintain some semblance of control. Yujin catches it, sees the effort it’s taking you, and she shakes her head, her lips pursed in a perfect little pout.
“Don’t hold back, daddy,” Yujin's chiding you, disappointed with your restraint. “I want to hear it. I need to hear how good it feels, how desperate you are. Need you to show me just how much you want to see me filled with your cum.”
She twists her hand down on your cock, squeezing when she reaches the base, her other hand coming down to cup your balls, tickling them with her fingers. That has a moan escaping your lips, a low, desperate sound that makes Yujin preen.
“That’s it,” she’s overjoyed, getting what she came for, basking in your pleasure, “tell me how much you want it, tell me how much you want to cum for me.”
And so you do. You tell her, your voice strained with the effort of keeping your orgasm at bay. Not yet, not until you’re deep inside her, not until you're sure that not a single drop will go wasted. “You're too fucking much, Yujin, too fucking hot,” you manage, the words a choked noise that you hope she can hear over the blood pounding in your ears. “You’re driving me fucking mad.”
Yujin’s strokes keep building, one on top of the other, and she’s pressing herself against you, the warmth of her, soft breasts pushing into your chest, her lips sucking at your neck, kissing into you hard. After all, who will notice? Who gives a fuck if the drummer shows up on stage with a few extra bruises on his skin?  
You fall into the crook of her neck, your forehead on her shoulder, as her lips make their way up your throat, across your jaw, until she’s nipping at your lobe, whispering in your ear, “You’re desperate for my cunt, aren’t you, daddy? You want to fill me up right before I go on stage?”
“Yujin,” you grit out, and you’re holding her, hands on those perfectly round cheeks, holding on for dear life, pulling her close to you so that she can feel just how right she is. The words spill out of you like a confession, “I need to fuck you now, Yujin. I need to feel your cunt, make you cum so hard you won’t be able to fucking move, let alone dance.”
And Yujin leaves one last, lingering kiss on your pulse. “So do it, daddy.”
Her words are a fucking gunshot, and you’re off to the races.
You spin her around so fast she yelps, your chest to her back, your cock trapped between her ass cheeks. Her shorts are barely an inconvenience, yank them down, denim catching on her hips, sliding down to her ankles, leaving her in just her panties.
Yujin gasps, the cool air meeting her bare skin, and she braces herself against the wall of the stall, needing something to keep her on her feet. She’s all soft curves and sweet smells, so insanely proportioned, like she's built for this, curvy and thick in all the right places.
While she’s distracted you sneak a kiss onto the creamy-white skin of her shoulder, hard enough to give her a mark to match yours, a badge of honour that brands her in the same way she’s done to you.
Her panties never stood a chance, completely drenched to the point of ruin, sticky with anticipation, snug against her lips. You pull them aside, thumb brushing against her swollen clit, making her hips jerk forward. She’s on your time now, you’ve got the green light to turn the tables and drag her through the same torment she’s put you through.
“Look at this,” you’re in her ear now, taunting, “you’re already so fucking wet for me.”
Yujin’s cheeks burn red, and she’s pushing back against you, grinding her ass into your cock. “Of course I am. I can’t help it,” she’s a little breathless, a little shaky, “I need it.”
“You’re so beautiful,” your hands like magnets on her bare ass, squeezing, marking her in places only you'll ever know. “So fucking beautiful.”
“Please,” Yujin whimpers, as you slide your finger down, between her legs, tracing her wet slit, testing her tightness, feeling her warmth, feeling how ready she is. “Please, fuck me now.”
You can’t resist her, you never can, not with so little time left and so much of her to ruin. Your cock dips, lining up with her pussy, the tip nudging at her entrance, and all it takes is one strong thrust, and you’re pushing into her, burying yourself to the hilt in a swift, brutal motion.
There’s a scream from her, a grunt from you, blending and echoing through the bathroom, bouncing off the tiles and the stall walls. Someone’s going to hear it, someone’s going to come in and see you fucking the star of the show and that’ll be it for the both of you.
But really, fuck all of that.
Fuck the concert, the venue staff, the fans, the tour managers, the PR nightmare that will follow.
Fuck everything that isn’t inside this stall, that isn’t Yujin’s tight cunt squeezing around your cock, that isn’t the way she’s shuddering in your arms, gasping your name, needing her daddy to fuck her harder, faster.
There's no easing her into it, not like you know you should. You fuck her hard, just like she’s begged. Your hips snap against her ass, the sound of skin slapping skin drowning out the noise outside, again and again, in and out, over and over.
Yujin’s never needed much to get started, always so easily soaked, so easily ready. She'd told you as much one late night (or one early morning): "I can take it, take anything, as long as it's coming from you. "
Her walls clamp down around you, she’s already pulsing, her cunt desperate to wring you dry. You’re gliding in and out of her, using her, letting her mold herself so perfectly around you, her juices coating your cock, making it slicker with every thrust.
“Yes—that’s what I fucking need.” Yujin cries out, her voice high-pitched, her head thrown back, and the flimsy plastic isn’t enough anymore, she needs you to hold her steady, to dig your fingers into her hips and nail her into the wall.
Each stroke, each thrust into her cunt, each time you fill her, stretch her—each one could be the last one, the one that has you exploding inside her. Could be the one that overwhelms you, the one that makes you forget where you are, that there’s anything that exists besides fucking this needy, little brat.
It’s the way Yujin clenches around you, tight and perfect, like she’s made just for you, like she’s never been fucked this way before, will never be again.
(Even though you have. Even though you will.)
Each time is like the first, you’re discovering her all over again, peeling back layers of this beautiful, untouchable idol, and finding something new, something beneath the sheen of purity and perfection. Something that makes you want to ruin her, bring her down to your level, to roll around the filth with the rest of you mere mortals.
And Yujin knows it.
There’s a need to make her feel it, and there’s her fucking pigtails, dangling in front of you like a carrot, flicking up and down in front of your face with every thrust. You need to grab them, to yank her back onto your cock, to force her to take it as hard as you want to give it. It’s almost too much to resist.
But even in your haze you know better. Instead, you settle for that choker on her neck, your thumb sliding under the black leather band, feeling the pulse of her blood racing beneath her skin. You grip it, tight, but not too tight. Just enough to make her gasp, to make her cunt tighten, to make her cry out—
“Gah—God—fuck—”
Strangled cries have her screaming, have her needing you to go deeper.
“Fuh—fuck—yes—right there—right—fucking—there—”
She’s chanting, almost sobbing, doing her best to take everything you’re giving her, everything she’s needs, everything she deserves. You’re tapping into that deep, dark desire within her. The one that gets off on being treated rough, the one that loves having a daddy, the one that needs to be nailed to a wall and reduced to nothing but a shaking, mewling mess of climaxes.
You dare to snake a hand under her top, you’re not going to mess her outfit, but that doesn’t mean you can’t get a taste of what’s underneath. Your fingers stretch under her bra, testing the elasticity of the cotton, before finally finding the swell of her breasts, cupping it, filling your hand with it.
Yujin’s moan is all the encouragement you need, a wordless permit to squeeze, to pinch her nipple, roll it between your thumb and forefinger until it’s a hard little nub.
“Oh fuck yes—touch me. You love touching me, don’t you?” She's feeling it, really feeling you, the stimulation of your palm on her breast, the sting on her nipples. “You fucking love my body.”
It’s the damn truth—these past weeks have been a crash course in Yujin, and you haven’t found an inch you didn’t immediately fall in love with. Every curve and dip and line, every soft place and every sharp edge; the weight of her in your arms, the way she fits against you, how she responds to your touch like she’s been waiting for it, for you, for fucking ever.
“Fuck, yes, just like that, daddy, just like that.”
“You’re so fucking perfect, Yujin. So tight, so wet, so fucking mine.”
You slur words into her, words that make her shiver, make her tremble against you, make her so fucking happy to hear them. It’s the words that she loves, hearing you talk like that, like she’s the only one who can make you feel this way. And maybe she is.
So you keep talking, keep whispering those loving, filthy soliloquies into her ear, keep telling her how good her cunt is, how desperate you are for her body, how much cum you have to give her. And her body has an answer for you each time, each syllable a caress that sends shivers down her spine.
“Fuck, you’re so beautiful, Yujin. So beautiful when you’re like this, when you’re all mine.” You can feel it boiling up inside you, that pressure building with every smack of your hips against her ass. “I’m going to cum so hard for you, princess.”
There’s the guitar, the bass, the keys, the band tuning up outside, noise filtering into the stall, faint but unmistakeable, the only thing missing is the beat of the drums, the only thing missing is you.
Yujin’s grinning, knowing she’s the one keeping you occupied, knowing it’s her cunt that you’re buried in, that’s not letting you go.
“If only they knew,” she’s giggling like a schoolgirl (she might as well be with those pigtails), “if only they know how good you’re fucking me right now. They won’t have a fucking clue, will they?”
“Such a fucking tease, Yujin.”
She looks over her shoulder at you, and sends a coy, “Who, me?”
“Yes, you, you little slut,” you answer, not bothering to mince your words. Your hand tightens around her choker, not enough to cut off her air, just enough to keep her right there, panting and needy and yours. “You know exactly what you’re doing out there. I see how you dance, how you move. Like you’re forcing them to picture you fucking, making them all want a taste of what they’ll never have.”
The truth makes her shiver against you. “They all wish they could do this to me, all wish they could fuck me and fill me like you are.”
There’s a tension building inside her too, the blend of your words and the reality of the performance she’s going to have to put on afterwards. It has her body tightening like a bow string, ready to snap at any moment.
And you’re going to be the one to release it.
You venture a hand downwards, gracing over her stomach, her belly button, until you reach the wetness of her pussy. There's her clit, ripe for teasing.
You fuck your cock in deeper still, matching the swirl of your finger with the pounding of her cunt, timing it just right to make her leak all over you.
“That feels so—fuck,” Yujin purrs, so, so blissful. “Only you—only you, daddy. No one else will get to have me—fuck—fuck me like this.”
“Whenever I want, any time I want,” you’re telling her, promising her, even though it’s more likely to be the opposite. That it’s Yujin that will seek you out on those lonely nights and those quiet mornings, or just whenever she’s bored and needs someone to fuck all the nerves and stress out of her system.
“They’d be so—gah—so jealous if they knew. I see it when they look at me—how much they want me,” she’s straining to say it, but needs you to hear it, needs you to know it. “I see it—read it in places they think I don’t look.”
She’s lost, lost in a sea of her own musings, thoughts of how everyone with a working pair of eyeballs wants to fuck her. Relishing in the knowledge that she's found the only person that can fuck her right, and that their cock is buried in her cunt, their fingers working her clit.
“They call me a slut, a whore, but that’s not true, is it, daddy? I only fuck you,” Yujin repeats, “I’m only a slut for you.”
There’s an edge to her voice, a raw, animalistic need that makes you want to prove her right. Want to erupt inside her so badly that she’s forced to carry a part of you inside her when she’s on stage.
“Yours to use,” Yujin taunts. “To fuck, to fill...”
Jesus.
“To break.”
Fucking.
“Maybe I should let you rip off my clothes, fuck up my hair—fuck—my makeup. Go out on stage with all the marks you’ve left on me, with all your cum—gah—all over me.”
Christ.
It hits you like a sledgehammer, adding another layer of taboo to this already fucked up situation. The thought of it is fucking wild, ridiculous to contemplate, you’re sure it’s all just part of the game, another button Yujin’s pressing for her own thrill… right?
“Then everyone would know—everyone would know that it’s you—that you’re the one that’s fucking my brains out when no one else is watching.”
You’re all over her and deep inside her, lips on her throat, her jaw, hands at her tits, her cunt. Devouring her, all of her, from those tightly binded pigtails all the way down to her carefully manicured toes.
And then she stops dancing around the subject and demands it.
“Ruin me. Fuck me, please, daddy. Just—kiss me, now.”
“You said—”
But Yujin’s already twisting around at her waist, angling her body so she can seize your lips, smear her lipstick across your teeth, flood your mouth with her tongue. She’s got fistfuls of your shirt, pulling you closer, as if she’s trying to claim you, claim every inch of you as property of An Yujin.
Now that you’ve got permission, you thread your fingers into her hair, gripping tight, pulling her by the pigtails like you’ve been dying to, kissing her like your life depends on it.
You’re getting rougher with her now, tugging her head back, peeling her lips away from yours, sliding your cock out of her. You ignore the whine, ignore the tears. It’s game over for her makeup, for her hair, her outfit. She’s a beautiful, chaotic mess—so shamelessly yours, so perfect in every way.
The separation barely lasts a second, you’re lifting her up, turning her and depositing her atop the toilet seat, spreading her legs wide, putting her on display.
This is the real show—Yujin looking up at you, eyes dark with need, tits out and heaving with every breath; thick, toned thighs glistening with her juices, your precum; and her pussy, all puffy and so ready to be filled again.
“Daddy—” Yujin starts, and ends, as you’re inside her again. Inside her tight, welcoming cunt, her back arching off the cold porcelain, her legs wrapping around you, ankles crossing and locking in place.
Just one hard thrust and you see it—it's in the watering of her eyes, the wobble of her lips.
She’s close, and you’re not far behind.
“Please.”
It’s barely a whisper, nearly lost somewhere between your haggard breaths and the sloppy wet sounds of your bodies colliding.
But you hear it, and it’s all you need.
It’s her pigtails in your hands again, strands wrapped around your fist, and you’re taking a front row seat in the spectacle that is Yujin falling apart.
“Please, fuck me.” There it is again, louder now. “Fuck my tiny little pussy, daddy. Make me yours.”
It’s every single sound out of her mouth, every folding and crumpling of her perfect features, every single drop of sweat sliding down her neck, every time she says fuck me, or break me, or over and over again—make me yours.
You want to savour this, burn this image into your mind, live off the memory of Yujin’s cunt pulsing around you, but there’s no time, no time to do anything but kiss her again; clumsy, hungry, wet, open-mouthed kisses.
“Please,” she’s biting into your lip, licking into your mouth, clawing at your shoulders, “say my name.”
“Yujin,” you give it to her, offer her name like a sacrifice. “Yujin, I’m so fucking close.”
The porcelain is doing its best to bear your weight, to survive the punishment you’re hammering into Yujin’s tight, perfect body, to outlast your relentless fucking. “Cum for me daddy, cum for me.”
But it’s her, it’s Yujin that crosses that threshold first, coming apart until she’s nothing but a mess of whimpers, moans, and cries of your name. Of pleases and thank yous, until she’s just a hot, tight cunt getting used for your pleasure.
“Fuck—fuck—I’m cumming—daddy, I can’t—it’s so—”
It’s all there across her face, all in the way she’s shaking, the way her cunt is gripping you, her walls fluttering around your cock like a fucking heartbeat, tightening and releasing in endless waves that crash down on her.
“So good—you’re so good—you’re so—fuck—fuck—cum—cumming—"
Her entire body seizes, tenses all at once, and you’d be worried if you hadn’t seen it countless times before, if you didn’t know to expect her to lose all control of her limbs, to not be able to do anything but stare at you, all teary eyed and feeling so, so good.
But you keep going, hips pumping, cock driving into her, keeping her steady, helping her climb to her peak, filling her tender, creaming cunt over and over again. You want to make this last, want to keep her like this, unable to think about anything but you, unable to think about anything that isn’t your cock.  
“So fucking good for me, Yujin, so good, princess.”
“God, fuck—daddy!”
It’s the praise that pushes her over, unravels her, has her mouth frozen in the shape of your name, like the idea of you is the only thing keeping her tethered to this world. That, and her nails digging into your skin, adding to the tapestry she’s already engraved on your back.
And then the silence comes, and that’s the real killer.
Yujin’s always loud when she gets fucked, always desperate to tell you how good it feels, needy for you to know how good you are to her. But when she cums—when she loses herself on your cock—it’s like she relinquishes all ability to articulate, to make any sound other than a whine or a gasp.
You know what she wants to say—don’t stop, please, don’t stop—know what she wants to tell you—thank you, daddy, thank you, thank you, thank you—and it’s your responsibility to see her through it, to plunge your cock deep into the smooth, velvety muscles of her cunt, to have her rocking and creaming all over you, again and again and again.
And then she falls apart.
So beautifully, so perfectly.
But you’re not done yet.
Your thrusts come in thick and fast, making the whole stall shudder, making your vision swim. Yujin’s still reeling, snapped back into the land of the living by the force of your fucking.
She’s leaning forward, pressing her forehead to yours, able to form whole words again, whispering something that you can’t quite catch, something sweet and needy and demanding.
“I’m all yours, daddy.”
It’s a trigger she’s been waiting to pull—the moment she says it, you let go.
There’s no holding back anymore, you’ve been fighting it for what feels like hours, trying to keep your shit together, but it’s no use. You’re going to cum, the only question is, where.
You can’t shake the image of her covered with you, painted all over her face, her chin, her neck, her chest, her perfect, perfect tits. You want it, want to see it realised, want to parade her out on that stage looking like a fuck doll—your fuck doll.
But not now, not today.
So instead, you bury yourself inside her, so, so deep. Yujin’s nodding, teasing “deeper, deeper, please,” begging you with her whole body, watching you with those eyes, half-lidded and glazed over, licking at her lips, bracing for you to fill her.
It’s your turn to shake, your turn to let go of that knot in your gut that’s been twisting ever since she dragged you into the bathroom, pushed you into the toilet stall and told you she needed this.
You throb, tighten, the base of your spine tingles, and that’s all the warning you get before you’re cumming, rushing Yujin’s greedy cunt with your hot, sticky load.
“Daddy, daddy—daddy—yes!”
It’s an addiction now, she needs your cum like she needs oxygen, and you need to fill her as if you’ll die if you go another day without pounding her cunt.
“So good, so fucking good inside me—all yours, all yours—"
It’s a thousand blissful little moments stacked on top of each other, her clenching, you throbbing, her grinning, you grimacing, but it all comes together in this heated space that leaves you both boneless, breathless catastrophes.
Yujin’s the first to come down, slumping against you, drooling down your chest, staining your shirt with a sheen of her saliva. Her legs go slack around you, finally letting go of your waist, still shaking in the aftershocks of her orgasm. You can feel your cum leaking from the corners of her cunt, oozing down the inside of her thighs, sliding past her knee, down to her ankles.
A finger under your chin to tilt your head to her, to kiss you. One of those quiet, intimate kisses that will have you spending the night trying to decode its meaning. But, for now, there’s just the salt of her sweat and the sweetness of her lip gloss.
“Thank you, daddy,” Yujin says, so sweetly, so sincerely, and it’s like a knife twisting in your chest.
“Always.”
And slowly, carefully, you’re pulling out of her, even though she’s still clenching, still trying to keep you in. Your cock exits her with an audible slosh, and you need to brace yourself against the stall door, lean into it hard as you take in the sight of Yujin, sprawled on the toilet seat, well fucked and utterly ruined in all the best ways.
She reads your mind, “You really made a fucking mess of me.”
“I only claim fifty percent of that responsibility.”
Yujin pouts, makes sure you’re watching her, and dips her fingers into her defiled cunt. “This is all you, daddy.”
She drags out her digits, holding them up for you, your cum glistening on them like a prize. And then she’s slipping them between her lips, flicking out her tongue to catch a drop that dribbles down her wrist. She licks it all up, slow, savouring it, making sure you’re watching, making sure your eyes are glued to her as she devours the last traces of you from her hand.
That sound she makes, that little “Mmm” of satisfaction has you feeling heady, makes your cock twitch, eager to be back inside her, to fill her right back up so you can watch her do it all over again.
“Cumslut,” is the only word you have her for her, as she slides her fingers in deeper, tickling the back of her own throat like it's the most natural thing to do. Her cheeks hollow out, and after a long, dramatic suck, she pulls her fingers from her lips with a wet pop, all shiny and clean.
She corrects you. “Your cumslut.”
And then a switch is flipped, and she’s putting herself back together.
Yujin’s graceful, at odds with the confines of the cramped bathroom stall she’s just been fucked in. It amazes you every time, the way that she moves. All liquid and soft, as if she’s not really touching anything, as if she’s floating.
She licks droplets of cum off her lips, scoops the remainder up her legs, her thighs, and you’re just staring, gawking at her with something akin to awe, because she’s just so fucking beautiful, so utterly composed, so untouchable.
You help her, you try, help her tug down her shirt, pull up her panties, her shorts, help her slip back into the role of Yujin, the perfect idol, the star that can’t be tarnished by something as dirty as a quickie on top of a toilet seat.
She nods towards the stall door, and you let her past you, help hold her steady as you lead her to the bathroom mirror, give her a chance to assess the damage you've wrought on her. The smudged lipstick, the kiss bruises, the hair sticking to her neck—all evidence of you.
And yet, she smiles, looking back at you over her shoulder. Like she’s got it all under control, like you haven’t ruined her, not really. Not yet.
“Well, that’s something,” she says, her voice a little too breathless for the breeziness she’s aiming for.
But then she’s got her compact out, the tiny bag she's had hidden in her back pocket specifically for occasions like this. You stand back, giving her space to work her magic. Cheeks are patted for colour, lips glossed for plumpness, eyes relined with that dangerously smoky look that makes them pop.
“How do I look?” She turns, looking at you through the mirror, hand on her hip, posing.
“Like you’ve just been fucked in a toilet stall, honestly.”
That makes her laugh. “Good.”
She’s heading to the door, smoothing out her skirt, fixing her top, stopping along the way to give your forearm a quick squeeze.
There’s that look in her eyes again.
One you’ll be revisiting once the show’s over and the doors are closed.
“I’ll take off first,” she says, tying her pigtails back in place. “Wouldn’t want to make it too obvious.”
You catch her hand before she can get away, pulling her face close to you, wiping away a stray bit of cum still shining on her chin. “Good luck out there.”
And there’s that smile. That smile that’s going to make an audience of thousands fall in love with her. That’s going to make you fall in love with her, if you’re not careful. “Don’t need it,” she says, pressing her lips to yours, ruining her lip gloss all over again. “I got you, daddy.”
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hoshigray · 30 days
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It’s been almost a year, and I still can’t get ex-husband! Toji out of my head…
꯳⃘꤫⃛✿ contents: Toji x afab/fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - anal - backshots/doggy style position - fingering (f! receiving) - clitoral play (swiping) - [un]protected sex - creampie - pet names (baby, mama, sweet thing) - Toji loving on your body, even though he shouldn't be - mention of excess cum.
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“What in the world are you doing?”
“What’s it look like I’m doin’?”
Tsumiki and Megumi weren’t at the house yet — the children were still busy at school with extracurricular activities. Ex-husband! Toji, the dutiful and responsible adult he is, swore to pick his kids up once the hour hand reaches the sixth hour and the minutes nearly touch the thirtieth number. In the meantime, he stays at your home, where you call up a pizza dinner order for the children to eat after a long day before returning home with their father. However, while the youngsters are away, the black-haired man takes the time to do what he does best: pester you with his company. 
“Like you’re about to stick your dick in my ass.”
“And if I am?” He sneers, teeth peaking under the deft scar of his lips. “Y’re the one that said y’r pussy’s off-limits.”
You lift your brow as your ex-spouse spreads your legs, sitting with his knees atop your bed in your room in your abode. Do you really want to be doing this, letting this brawny man strip you off your bottoms and unzip his jeans to free the erection poking under his boxers? You have to bite your lip to conceal the smirk you share with him, watching him rip the wrapper he pulls out from a pocket and screen his cock with a rubber. 
“And why are we doing this again?” Forest green eyes flick from your lower region to your face, having to suck in the gasp creeping into your neck. 
He scoffs, “Because we’re killin’ time.” Wrong: You were already killing time by reading and replying to emails on your bed, under the impression that this grown man before you could spend his leisure time watching sports highlights or something in your living room. Clearly, Toji had a different proposition. “What, can’t spend a few minutes with ya while the kids are away?”
You roll your eyes with a smile. “Last time you tried to spend a few minutes with me—“ A cold sensation near your entrance has you pucker involuntarily, Toji pushing the covered glans of his cock. “We missed Tsumiki’s soccer game by thirty minutes.”
“Still made it, didn’t we?” 
Had to fight rolling your eyes the second time. “Only one time.” You hit him on the back with your foot when he grins. “One time. And don’t—Mmmph!” Finally, the cockhead is inserted into your hole, stretching it with his girth as he pushes it inch by inch carefully. “…Make a mess, either.”
And you know he heard you perfectly well, a curt nod and a whisper before seizing your lips with his, “Yes, mama.” Sure, he can be a bit of a hard-headed dickhead, but his attentiveness is as strong as a titanium. Therefore, you can instantly trust him — an ex-lover you would depend on and rely on if it could come to it, and of course, you’d do the same for him and his kids. 
…But not as strong as his playful stubbornness as the man drills his raw cock inside your ass. 
“Dahhh!! Ahhh, fuck…God, this ass…!”
“Nnnmm! T-Toji, I said ONE time!!”
You should’ve known it would end up like this — the two of you were already glued to each other from the excess amount of come that coated his dick, burrowing to and fro from the innards of your rear channel. His firm hands grab hold of the flesh of your butt, and you can only grip the sheets beneath you while your face is smooshed to your pillow. 
God, you had a feeling this would happen, knowing that your ex-husband is the type to get all riled up like this and steer off course. Would’ve been best had you put your foot down when you had the chance; however, it’s too late now that you’re mewling under his bow, all desperate from his balls smacking onto your skin. 
“Good God, baby,” he exhales with a smile, massaging your butt in loving kneads, observing how his girth disappears inside you. Fuck, you looked too good, making his whole body itch with want. “Can never get over this sweet ass of y’rs.”
“Tojiiii…!!” His name leaves with shrills; you sense him bending down to your ear, and the added weight of him from behind makes you feel caged and submissive. “Shtoop it, we can’t…! Gotta st—Ooop!”
“Y’don’t want me doin’ that, sweet thing,” he murmurs to your ear, breath hot to your cold helix and lobe. “Can tell ya want this just as much as I do with—shit—how twitchy y’re bein’ right now…And, maybe here…Heh, thought so,” his chuckle, so close to you, has you moan with flat lips after he sneaks a hand in between your thighs to palm your vulva, fingertips teasing the lips of your vagina and feeling it pulse at the touch. “Can tell how excited y’ are fr’ me. Y’re twitchin’ so much, baby.”
“—Mmmff, b-because, you’re making—Hnnmm!!” You nearly wobble at his fingertips swirling circles around your clit, trembles forcing you to quake as he gently pinches and swipes the pearl. While Toji drives his length slowly yet precise, the tip grazing your wall so much you howl cutely. “F-Fuuuck, so good, Toji…right there, right thereee…!”
Toji coos, “Shhh, relax, baby,” kissing your ear as his fingers glide to your folds; you can’t stop spasming, so many senses putting you through an overload! “Right here, sweetheart? Ya want me here?” The tip of his forefinger taunts the opening of your cunt, and you can’t take it anymore!
“Oh fuck, yesss,” you turn over your shoulder to plead. “Please, stick them innn, g-gonna cum, wanna cum on your fingers!!” 
Oh, that dialed Toji’s excitement more than expected, slipping his digit into your slick, and you scream aloud. “There you go, mama…” A free hand grabs your chin so he can claim your lips. You pepper him with kisses enthusiastically, your mouth agape for him to shove his tongue to dance with yours. All the while, his thick finger scrapes around to scratch your texture, and the pace of his pelvis grows staggering. 
With every rushed push and grind is another wiggle inside your chasm, struggling to hold your balance on your palms as the shocks become irresistible with more clamps of your asshole. You release, your body shackling with the wave of pleasure and your nerves keen to the highest point. You can’t stop whimpering, so overstimulated almost to the brink of tears.
And Toji is right there with you, feeling you squeeze him with your holes and whining as he sucks on your tongue and nibbles on it with sportive intent. You felt too good to him, clenching onto him like you could never let go, so it’s no wonder he’s seconds away from climaxing alongside you. Hot groans fill your space, passionate saliva keeping you both stuck as he pumps his load into your fluttering anus once again.
Tense bodies fall into tranquility as the seconds go by, and the trembles subside, smacking lips with each other as if lost in desire. Until you remove away from his scarred mouth with a hum, shamrock eyes hooded like yours before a fit of laughter is shared.
“You done now?” You inquire as noses brush up. 
Toji lifts a brow and looks to the side, faux pondering before smacking a rut to your butt again. “Mm, not really.”
“Oh, for God’s sake, Toji!” You move to push him off you, yet you underestimate how easily he can maneuver you to your back. “Go pick the kids up so they can eat and go home!”
“They’re grown enough to wait on me,” he snickers and cages your hands above your head. “As fr’ me, I don’t got another two weeks to wait.”
No bothering hiding your annoyance in your eyes, even if you permit him to kiss you again. “Hopeless as ever.”
He chortles. “Y’re one to talk.”
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© HOSHIGRAY2024 – reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ⊹ dividers by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more.
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nkogneatho · 10 months
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𝐂𝐈𝐓𝐘'𝐒 𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐌𝐀𝐍 𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐋𝐘 𝐀 𝐖𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐎𝐍 𝐀 𝐏𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐄- 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐁𝐎𝐘 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎
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—cw: fem!reader, male and female masturbating, fingering, fistfucking, pillowfucking (put me in a cage pls), desperate gojo because i'll never shut up about that. not proofread.
—a/n: i wish his seiyuu had an asmr channel just like nanami's so this drabble would've been longer. enjoy though <33
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You're used to stalking the social media of people you go out with. It comes naturally. Well you live alone in this city, and you sure as hell don't want to stumble across a creep with no defense. You never know what's crippling it's way across this sinful city at night. The questionable news reports just added the oil to the fire of your anxiety. So it was natural that tonight, you were stalking another one of your dates. Gojo Satoru. You knew he was pretty popular when those hand had to leave yours to dap or fist bump his peers on your first date. It's almost as if fifty percent of the city knew him, like a celebrity. If he was really so popular, it would be easy to dig up info about him.
That's what led to you eagerly scrolling past his Instagram, flipping through each highlight as if you were a child who just found the greatest comic book.
party,
party,
and parties.
it was like his mantra the way his entire feed was just him dancing under the influence, in outfits too expensive and champagne to rich. He bathed in the luxury and the people around him were pleasuring off the drops sprinkling. So perfect that he had everyone wrapped around his finger. But won't he do the same to you? Overpower you. All those riches and he decided to go out with you, just so he could make you one of his whores, you were sure about that.
"Ugh, fuck it." You groaned, tossing your phone away. "Guess i'll have to use my hand again."
You opened your laptop, went incongnito typing the first letter, but your autocorrect knew better. It's like it has memorised what you do at this hour. But autocorrect works on algorithms so you were sure it's your fault that you visit the site so frequently.
The porn website was open and you clicked on search button, specifically typing "hot men jerking off webcam." It was one of your favorite things to watch.
You scrolled through the popular videos you had already watched maybe a million times. There was a reason they were popular. So you just changed the filter and selected "new to old". After rummaging through some of the boring videos, your eyes landed on the preview of one with the most beautiful cock. longest even. Curiously, you click on it. The video starts with the man rubbing his boner through the boxers. You put a hand inside your panties, and all you want right now is for him to take his boxers off. After a few minutes, he does and his long light peach cock springs out. when he leans back, your eyes do a double take.
is that gojo fucking satoru??
And indeed it was. The man who earlier gave you the rich spoiled misogynistic son vibes was now moaning like a slut, begging his viewers to ride their imaginary pussy. He had zero shame. Although...why didn't you log out?? Why did you not switch to some other video?
Because holy shit he is fistfucking his cock like an animal in heat. The chair is shaking and making squeaking noises but fuck who cares about that. Listen to his moans. His fucking whimpers. He changed his placement and now he was on the bed, had the pillow folded in half only to start ramming his dick into it. God! Is this the real Gojo Satoru? Is this what he is? A camboy whoring his body out. Because he has generational wealth so there's no way he is foung that for money. So the only logical answer is because he is such a fucking pussywhore that his exhibitionist cock only cums when there are others watching it.
Your fingers starts vigorously pumping in your cunt. They weren't long enough to reach and you were actually wishing Satoru was fucking you instead of that pillow because look. Look at that long dick. Look at the pretty flushed tip with his precum glistening. Fuck, how'd he taste on your? Sweet? Sour? But you know it would taste warm and filthy for sure.
The man in the screen increases his pace and so do you, imitating him. you want to cum at the same time. you want to see what his cum looks like on the gray pillowcase. your middle finger starts stimulating your clit even more while Satoru in the screen is now snapping his hips rougly against the bed, in the pillow. you imagine yourself in the position. Prone Bone. Never tried it but if it is what he is doing, then you're sure as hell down. It's the way his thrusts can be heard banging against the wood under the mattress even if there's not skin for his to slap against. compared to what other camboys do, talk about how they're going to ruin your dirty little pussy, gojo's is different. he does say he'll ruin your pussy but it's hotter because it is followed by endless pleas.
"fuck—lemme ruin this pussy—anh! please, yeah? gonna make you feel so good, baby please?" almost as if he is actually fucking someone. and you don't think twice before assuming he is talking to you. It's okay to be delusional sometimes. Specially when his words make you cum so hard, that you are whining at the lack of more girth to clench around. you look at the screen and Satoru came too. And he was whimpering. Like actually whimpering because it felt so good. Hot strings of cum now soaked in the pillow. Shit.
When you come back from the bathroom after washing yourself, you hear a notification. you pick up your phone to find a "Free tomorrow night?" from the same man who indirectly made you cum so hard tonight. And after what you saw today, you would be a fucking idiot to miss a chance like this.
"Yeah, Of course. Can't wait to see you tomorrow."
*Sent*
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iluvmattsbeard · 5 months
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say it (m.s)
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master list
matt sturniolo x reader
warnings: VERY heavy smut and strong language
preview: Matt has been stressed out all day because of filming. his brothers have been on his last nerve. when he gets home, he takes out his frustration on you and he doesn't think you're taking him seriously. so he makes you take him seriously.
a/n: I literally imagine Matt take out his frustration on me 24/7. like yes give it to me lmao.
it was 10 p.m at night. you were waiting for Matt to get home. he was out filming a car video with his brothers Nick and Chris, for their youtube channel. you sat on your bed reaching down at the laundry basket beneath your one foot dangling on the side of the bed. you started folding your clothes neatly as you watched tv.
it’s already been 2 hours since he left at like 8 ish. you yawn still folding your clothes. you always waited for him to get home before falling asleep. you always wanted to make sure he got home safely.
suddenly, you hear the front door opening. you stopped everything you were doing, standing up about to head to the door but you freeze at the loud slam. “i’m home” you hear him yell out from behind the door. he was angry. you open the door and face him. “hey Matt…” you say hesitantly. all he does is look at you giving you a nod before walking to the fridge to grab a root beer. he twists the cap open, then taking a sip. all you do is stare at him before speaking, “how did filming go?” you ask stupidly. Matt then looks at you with a blank stare, “how do you think it went?” he says. “okay so i assume it didn’t go as well.” you say walking up closer to him but he turns away sitting on the couch.
“what happened?” you say turning to look at him crouched forward sipping his drink. “nothing it’s fucking stupid.” he responds clenching the plastic bottle. “well it’s clearly bothering you.” you lean back onto the counter saying. “so it’s not-.” Matt interrupts, “y/n just mind your business.” you knew how he gets when he’s upset. he turned cold and sometimes said stuff that really upset you. “i’m sorry. that was rude of me.” he says placing the bottle on the coffee table. he turns his head looking at you, “it really wasn’t a big deal. i’m just irritated by the fact i can’t ever get a word in without being interrupted.” he says with clear frustration. “Chris won’t ever shut his big mouth. the stupidest shit always comes out and Nick entertains it. every time i try to speak, Chris does it on purpose i swear, he just blurts out something we won’t even be talking about in the moment.” you let out a laugh but shortly stop as Matt darts his eyes at you seriously. “sorry” you mumble out. “see not a big deal since you think its so funny.” he says with a scoff.
you roll your eyes as you speak, “Matt don’t even start. i already said sorry.” his eyes were piercing through yours making you clear your throat. “okay Matt continue please.” you say. “no. you don’t care.” he responds looking away getting on his phone. you groan and shake your head. “fine be like that. i’m going to bed.” before you head to your bedroom, you pour yourself a cup of water and then walk towards the bedroom door.
Matt puts his phone down next to him, shaking his head letting out a scoff behind his smirk. “stop” he sternly says looking at you. you stop in your tracks as you turn around and face him. he stays quiet looking at you up and down before speaking, “put the water down” he says. “Matt i’m going to-.” you let out but he interrupts. “put it down.” with a dominant tone. you put down the water on the counter. you turn to look back at him but you see him walk out onto the balcony. you follow shortly after and join him outside. he was standing there leaned against the railing staring at the city lights. "why are we out here?" you ask confused. he keeps his eyes on the view not saying anything. you let out a soft sigh as you mimic his stance. “Matt-.” you were about to say but he gives you a glare. “you’ll find out.” he responds with a blank face.
eventually he looks away and sits on the arm chair that decorates the balcony. you turn to look at him as you can't help but notice his dark eyes. he leans back into the chair and spreads his legs slightly. he licks his lips raising his hand onto his lap, patting it, "come here" he demands. you nod your head as you walk over to him. you were going to sit on his lap but he sits up stopping you. "on your knees." your eyes widen at the command. "w-what?” you stutter out, “out here on the balcony?” he looks at you with the same glare from earlier. "do it." you nod hesitantly eventually kneeling down slowly. you gulp as you look up at him with your doe eyes. he stays silent as he brings his hands to unbutton his pants not breaking eye contact. he slightly brings down his pants as he pulls out his hard cock into his hand, stroking it.
"you're going to help me. aren't you?" he says. you bring yourself slightly up as you replace his hand on his cock with yours. he brings himself forward a bit. you stroke his dick slowly looking down at it. your hand looked small wrapped around it. slowly, you wrap your mouth around his tip, moving with a normal pace. not too slow and not too fast. you use both of your hands to stroke the remainder of his cock that couldn't fit in your mouth. he lifts his shirt up getting it away from your face. he then uses his other hand placing it on top of your head. he then pushes your head down, repeatedly bobbing it, making you tear up from how big his cock is. you take your hand and tap him to signal you can't handle the size hitting the back of your throat. he lets out a small low laugh as he grips your hair continuing to bob your head up and down. "who's laughing now?" he says. you gag slightly every time your head goes down. more tears streamed down your face with your eyes feeling cloudy. "look up at me." he says.
you look up weakly at him as you keep eye contact. he groans at the sight. "what? you can't take it no more?" he asks slowing down the pace he had you at. you couldn't say anything but look into his eyes that were filled with dominance. he releases your head from his grip, pushing you off him softly. you stay on your knees letting out a soft cough as he wipes your drooling mouth. he leans forward grabbing your hands as he pulls you up. once you stood up slowly he lets go of your hands still sitting there. "take these off." he says tugging your pajama pants lightly. you look into his eyes, pulling down your pants, along with your panties, letting them hit the ground. you step out from the soft fabric and laced garment standing there nervously.
you were scared the apartments in front of you could see you guys through their windows. your next door neighbors could also potentially catch you both in the act if they step outside their own balconies to peak. Matt grabs you by the waist, pulling you onto his lap. he immediately pulls you in by your face, attaching his lips with yours. you could feel his hard dick twitch under your entrance as you kiss back eagerly. the kiss was filled with anticipation. he runs his hands down the sides of your body as he lands on your hips.
he keeps them there gripping a little hard as he starts moving you back and forth against his cock, grinding on it not breaking the kiss. you felt yourself getting more wet after each kiss and each hip movement. he then pushes his tongue inside of your mouth as you fight for dominance. of course, he won. you tangle your fingers in his hair as you buck your hips, matching the pace of his hand movements. Matt then pulls away not wasting time attaching them onto your free nipple. you throw your head back slightly by his wet mouth sucking harshly on your hard nip. still grinding on him, he then stops you, also pulling away from your tit as he raises you up a bit. Matt takes his cock into his hand as he slips it into your wet core causing you to slip out a loud whimper. he darts his eyes onto yours as he brings up one hand, covering your mouth. "you don't want to be caught don't you?" he whispers.
you shake your head as he whispers, "okay then keep it down." he places his hands back onto your waist, with you slowly starting to ride him. you bite your bottom lip trying to fight back the noises. his grip gets tighter as you speed up your pace. he pushes you down a bit more making sure every inch of his cock sits inside of you. you wrap your arms around him, hiding your face in the crook of his neck. "you enjoy this huh?" he whispers in your ear. you try to make out words but you failed or else moans would fly out. "say it." he says firmly. "y-yes" you finally let out. "then prove it." he says breathlessly. you lean back slightly as your hands rest on his knees behind you. you roll your hips back and forth making sure you were pressed down all the way, having him deep inside. he throws his head back biting his bottom lip hard. you throw your head back as well, gulping down your moans.
"you move your hips so perfectly." he says bringing his head back up straight. he bites his lip again as he watches you continue to ride him. "just like that." he says. you wrap your arms around him, hiding your face into his neck again, still keeping your pace. "f-fuck Matt. your dick feels so good inside of me." you moan in his ear. he smirks as he stops your movement. you sit back up confused.
he leans back into the chair, pulling you up slightly as he starts to take control. the sudden thrusts make you moan out by surprise. "shhh.. just take this dick." he whispers. but you were really struggling keeping it in. the more he heard you fall apart, the more he sped up. he covers your mouth as he pounds harder into you, bruising your pussy. you bite the inside of his hand from the feeling of pain and pleasure. your eyes clouded up again as tears rolled down your cheeks. it hurt so good.
you look up and see your reflection in the window. you saw your tits bounce up and down from his thrusts. the clapping noise that was being made with your guys bodies coming together, started to get louder. you and Matt both look at each other when you hear someone open their sliding door. you widen your eyes as he continues to thrust. his hand was still on your mouth so you tap him signaling to stop. all he does is shake his head.
you grip onto his shoulders with your eyes rolling back feeling your stomach in a knot, indicating you were about to cum. you could feel Matt’s thrust getting slightly tamer; you could tell he was close. after a few more thrusts, you finally released all over his cock almost falling because of how weak you felt. “o-oh fuck” Matt whispers out at your actions. he then pulls you off his twitching cock as he cums on his stomach. you collapse onto his chest weakly as you both lay there out of breath.
after you both caught up with your breathing, you guys continue staying quiet, knowing your neighbor is outside on their balcony. but thankfully, after a bit they went back inside. you and Matt look at each other and let out a sigh of relief at the same time.
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a/n: likes and reblogs are appreciated!
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cuubism · 4 months
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Found this old fic concept in my notes, I doubt I'll ever get around to writing it or that I could do it justice if I did, but it still makes me laugh so I wrote it up as a little blurb. Perhaps it will make you laugh too.
Mega Popstar Dream and Hob, his extremely non-famous celebrity crush
So in this universe Dream is an extremely famous musician. He's like Taylor Swift level of famous, if you walk up to any random person on the street they would know who he is. Meanwhile Hob is an actor but really not very well known, he was in a few small projects and is in the core cast of one TV show that's well-regarded but not super popular.
It's Dream's FAVORITE TV SHOW and Hob is his FAVORITE ACTOR that he's ferally OBSESSED WITH. Everyone knows about this too, Dream is really obvious about it. In interviews people will ask him what he likes and he's like "this is my favorite TV show" "have you seen Hob Gadling in that show isn't he incredible", They'll ask him if he has a celebrity crush (as a joke) and he's like "YES HOB GADLING 😍" like it's become a meme in Dream's fandom how much he has a crush on this random actor.
They've never met though, probably Dream was afraid to -- 'never meet your heroes' and all -- and never let his team book any overlapping events. So he's never seen Hob in person, only watched his favorite TV show 65 times in a row and memorized every inch of his face. Like a stalker.
So then a Buzzfeed-esque YouTube channel is running a special edition of their usual challenge show, "People Meet Their Celebrity Crush", except this time it's "CELEBRITIES Meet Their Celebrity Crush." Dream's entire team conspires against him to book him on this. Dream doesn't know what it is until the very moment since the whole point is to surprise people with their crush. Needless to say, Hob was REALLY dubious when the channel reached out like "do you want to come on as Dream's celebrity crush" but what's he gonna do say NO? say NO when Dream is so pretty and cute? So yeah he goes.
Anyway during the moment in the video when they revealed his celebrity crush to him -- aka Hob just looking like a totally normal and random guy -- Dream literally tripped over a chair and fell on the floor and then fainted. Instant meme and it became the thumbnail of the video. When Dream woke up to find Hob crouched by him all concerned asking if he was okay he nearly had a panic attack, he was never more flustered and nervous in his whole life not even performing for crowds of millions.
Hob fell in love instantly. He doesn't even know much about Dream, he hasn't even listened to Dream's music other than what's just playing ubiquitously on the radio all the time but all it took was watching Dream fall over a chair and then look up at him with his huge starry eyes and he was like 'This one's mine forever idc. I gotta protect this nerd he won't survive in the wild.'
Anyway they did start dating after that and Dream never leaves the honeymoon phase for the rest of his whole life, he truly thinks Hob is the most handsome man and best actor in the entire world and will tell anyone so at any opportunity, he goes around saying things like "see if you believe really hard you too can marry your celebrity crush 🥰" with zero irony, he might have skipped the Grammys to go to the premiere of season 3 of Hob's show (Hob didn't ask him to do that) (Dream won the Grammy but had more fun staring at Hob's face for 2 hours than he would have had at the awards show). Meanwhile Hob never talks about Dream in public because Dream already has negative 500% privacy in his life, he's extremely protective of him, and he allegedly punched one of the paparazzi in the face when they tried to take stealth shots at their wedding which was supposed to be a private affair. ALLEGEDLY. No charges were filed.
Dream did post one photo of the wedding on insta for his adoring fandom in which he described Hob as his knight in shining armor and then denied any knowledge of any 'alleged' events when asked about it in the future. Because Hob was so much more private about their relationship than Dream, for a while Dream's fandom had been like HOB DOESN'T DESERVE DREAM but after the (alleged) story about Hob punching someone in the face came out they were all obsessed with him. So that solved that problem.
(Despite Hob's efforts a paparazzi photo did come out of them the morning after the wedding, Hob sitting on the terrace drinking coffee, Dream sitting on his lap wearing Hob's shirt and looking thoroughly ravished. Dream might have framed it.)
Then they lived happily ever after. Dream put Hob in every one of his music videos regardless of whether it made sense for the story. Hob got one of Dream's songs put in his favorite TV show which made Dream's whole entire year. The end :)
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driverlando · 3 months
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🏎️ max verstapen thighs. thats it. thats the tweet.
no but like hed catch you staring and then does somethinging about it🤭
congrats!! one if the best writers and blogs on here.
thank you so much lovie 🥹🫶🫶
The evening was quiet, the kind of calm that settled in after a long day. Max had just returned from a grueling training session, his muscles taut and glistening with a faint sheen of sweat. He was sprawled on the couch, flipping through the channels, his attention divided between the TV and the soft hum of conversation between the two of you.
You tried to focus on the movie playing on your laptop, but your eyes kept drifting to Max’s thighs. They were firm and powerful, the product of countless hours of training and racing. The way his shorts clung to them, outlining every curve and muscle, was nothing short of mesmerizing.
You thought you were being discreet, but Max’s keen eyes didn’t miss much. He noticed the way your gaze lingered, the subtle flush that crept up your cheeks each time you glanced at him. A slow, knowing smile spread across his lips, a plan already forming in his mind.
He shifted slightly, stretching out one leg and then the other, his movements deliberate and teasing. “Comfortable?” he asked casually, his voice smooth and easy.
“Yeah, just watching this movie,” you replied, trying to sound nonchalant. But your eyes betrayed you, flicking back to his thighs for just a moment too long.
Max’s smile widened. “Really? Because it looks like you’re a bit… distracted.”
Your cheeks burned, and you quickly looked away. “No, I’m not distracted,” you protested weakly. “I’m just… enjoying the movie.”
He chuckled softly, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. “Come here,” he said, patting the space beside him on the couch.
Hesitantly, you set your laptop aside and moved closer. Max reached out, his strong hands guiding you until you were sitting between his legs, your back against his chest. He wrapped his arms around you, his touch warm and reassuring.
“You know,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear, “if you wanted to touch, all you had to do was ask.”
Your breath caught in your throat, your heart pounding in your chest. “Max,” you whispered, your voice trembling slightly. “I wasn’t… I mean, I didn’t…”
He hushed you with a gentle kiss on your neck, his hands sliding down to rest on your thighs. “It’s okay,” he said softly. “I like it when you look at me like that.”
His fingers traced slow, lazy circles on your skin, each touch sending waves of heat through your body. You could feel the tension in his muscles, the raw power beneath his skin, and it only heightened your desire.
“You like my thighs, don’t you?” he asked, his voice low and husky.
You nodded, unable to form words. Max’s touch was driving you wild, and all you could think about was how much you wanted him.
He chuckled again, the sound vibrating through you. “I like it too,” he said, his hands sliding higher. “I like knowing that you want me.”
Before you could respond, Max’s hands were on the move, his fingers slipping under the hem of your shorts. You gasped, your body arching into his touch, the sensation overwhelming.
“Max,” you breathed, your voice barely more than a whisper.
He didn’t stop, his hands exploring, teasing, driving you to the edge. “Tell me what you want,” he murmured, his lips trailing down your neck. “Tell me how much you need me.”
“I need you,” you admitted, your voice shaking with desire. “Please, Max, I need you.”
He groaned softly, his hands gripping your hips as he shifted you slightly, positioning you just right. “Then take what you need,” he said, his voice thick with arousal. “I’m all yours.”
With that, you turned, straddling his thigh, your hands gripping his shoulders for support. Max’s eyes were dark with desire, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps as he looked up at you.
“Show me,” he said, his voice a low growl. “Show me how much you want me.”
You didn’t need any more encouragement. Leaning down, you captured his lips in a fiery kiss, your body moving against his in a rhythm that felt both desperate and perfect. Max’s hands roamed over you, his touch sending sparks of pleasure through your every nerve.
The world outside disappeared, leaving only the two of you, lost in the heat of the moment. Your bodies moved together in perfect harmony, each touch, each kiss, bringing you closer to the edge.
Max’s hands found their way back to your thighs, gripping them firmly as he guided your movements. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his voice filled with awe and desire. “So perfect.”
You could feel the tension building, a wave of pleasure rising higher and higher. With one final, desperate cry, you came, your body trembling as the orgasm tore through you.
Max held you close, his own release following moments later, a powerful, overwhelming sensation that left you both breathless and spent.
As you lay together, the afterglow of your shared passion surrounding you, Max’s fingers gently traced patterns on your skin. “I love you,” he murmured, his voice soft and tender.
“I love you too,” you whispered back, closing your eyes.
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charlotteking23 · 6 months
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Forgotten Lunch (Bruce Wayne x Wife! Reader)
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You were driving in the car, with a sack lunch in the passenger street. Bruce had forgotten to take his lunch and being a thoughtful wife decided to bring it to him.
You were excited you rarely went to Wayne Enterprise because your job hours were the same as Bruce's. You had a day off, and right after you dropped his lunch, you were going to the nail salon.
You parked the car towards the back having less of a hassle to find a spot. Walking in you were immediately greeted by some of the employees who recognized you and saw them pointing at you, but you didn't mind being used to it.
The sound of your high heels echoes through the lobby towards the receptionist. The lady looked up, you could tell she seemed shy. "Hello, I was wondering if Mr.Wayne was in any meeting right now", You said softly. "No, Ma'am, Mr Wayne should be expecting you", she said carefully, scared she might say something wrong. You nodded at her and thanked her as you walked towards the elevator.
When the elevator opened you were surprised to see a lady being rude to the employees. Before you could say something the rude lady saw you and pulled you by the arm making your back slam against the wall. Oh hell no you thought This lady must really want an ass kicking.
"I am Miranda, the Wayne Enterprises manager, which means I ensure, no new employees cause any trouble", Miranda said in a snooty tone. Before I could slap this bitch she looked me up and down in disgust was, this bitch. "Who are you trying to impress with all that makeup and this dress, here we have a standard procedure of no makeup and uniform", that bitch Miranda says as rudely as possible.
"Say that to all that cake-on makeup you have on your face, who are you trying to impress?" you said as you inspected her horrifying face wishing you brought your channel sunglasses. Trying to divert the attention off of her she commented on my food. "Who made that the rat", Miranda said as if it was even a good comeback. "No, but even a rat can make better food than you", you replied fed up with this girl's behavior.
But again this bitch just keeps on talking, you were about to take your louis vuitton high heel off and stab her eye with it but then it would be a waste of a good heel. "What can you do? you are just a lowly employee", Miranda says with such confidence. "Miranda-", Bruce says but was cut off by the wicked witch of the west(Miranda). " Oh Mr. Wayne it's good to see you", Miranda said in a flirty tone. It's funny how fast that girl switches up when my man comes.
"Miranda!", Bruce yelled stopping Miranda in shock. "This lowly employee you spoke to was my wife", Bruce said with a stern tone not taking shit from anybody. This was a complete shock to Miranda as she started to stutter, "I-I-I didn't know I am so sorry Mr and Mrs Wayne", red in the checks from being embarrassed by the mistake.
"I don't care Miranda this is not the first time I've heard complaints like these before I decided to not do anything because of how dedicated you were but now that has changed", Bruce said with anger in his eyes. "What do you mean s-sir", Miranda said as if she was going to cry. "You are fired, I suggest you pack your things now or I will call security", Bruce said as calmly as he could but anger shown in his eyes. Miranda ran away as fast as possible, away from the peering eyes.
Bruce was quick to apologize to all the employees who were tormented by Miranda, knowing Bruce he probably promised something really expensive for them to take as an apology.
Bruce then looks at his wife taking her by the hand and leading her to the office. "Are you okay? what are you doing here? Do you want some water or anything?", Bruce said scanning Me from head to toe making sure there were no injuries. "I came to drop off your lunch you forgot to bring", you said smiling up at Bruce. All he could do was laugh and talk to you for the remainder of the time til he had to return to work.
"You know Mr.Wayne", you said holding his hand as he walked with you towards the car." What Mrs.Wayne?" He said playfully. "You were really hot when you were taking charge", you said fanning yourself. "Maybe I should do that more often" Bruce said, cupping your checks and giving you a peck on the lips. "Definitely," you said as you pulled him back giving him a passionate kiss on his lips.
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ariestrxsh · 2 months
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.・✫・゜🚿・。.・✫・゜🚿・。.・✫
⚠️ content warning: ⚠️ smut, degradation, humiliation, mean!matt, brattamer!matt, roughdom!matt, mentions of masturbation, enemies to lovers (but without the fluff)
✍️ Summary: ✍️ Your best friends, Nick and Chris, offer to let you come over to use their water while yours is out at your place. The only problem is you and their brother Matt have always absolutely despised each other, and because both Nick and Chris are gone for the night, you're stuck with Matt all alone.
.・✫・゜🚿・。.・✫・゜🚿・。.・✫
hatef--k part one
"Thank you so much for letting me run a load of laundry and shower over here, you guys. You're seriously lifesavers," I told Nick and Chris, emptying my mess of gym and work clothes into the washing machine.
"Of course. Any idea how long your water's gonna be out?" Nick asked me. "No, I wish. They said anywhere from a few hours to a few days" I groaned.
"Well, like I said earlier, anything you need, we got you. Even if you need to stay here until it's back on, you're welcome to," Chris said, packing up his bag to go over to Nate's place for the night.
"That's really sweet of you, Chris. I might take you up on that if it's not back on by the end of the day," I replied. "Yeah, Chris and I won't even be sleeping here tonight, so you can stay in either of our rooms," Nick mentioned.
"Ew, what is she doing here?" Matt said, entering the room, gesturing at me. "Dude, c'mon, her water's out, and she needs a place to stay for a bit," Chris snapped at Matt.
I got along great with Chris and Nick, but Matt and I weren't very fond of each other. I thought he was cocky, disgusting, and rude, and he thought I was bitchy, shallow, and a whore, and it seemed like we couldn't exist in the same space with one another without being at each other's throats. But we often had to be in each other's space because of our mutual love of Nick and Chris.
"Please tell me you're also staying the night somewhere else," I said, rolling my eyes at Matt. "Why? 'Cause you wanna sleep in my bed?" He asked, smiling at me. "Not in a million years," I shot back. "Nope, not going anywhere tonight," he smirked. "Staying right here so I can annoy you as much as you annoy me."
"Oh my god, you guys, don't kill each other while we're gone. My uber is here," Nick said, putting on his sunglasses and strutting out the front door. "Yeah, seriously. Just please pretend you get along for once," Chris begged right before following Nick out.
I scoffed at Matt and walked over to the couch in the living room and started flipping through channels on their TV. "Um, what is your TV broken too?" Matt gave me attitude, grabbing the remote from me. "C'mon Matt. I can't leave at least until my laundry's done, and I need something to do while I wait to move it along," I whined back, reaching for the remote.
"Okay, cool. So you don't mind watching the game with me then?" Matt asked, turning on some sports channel. "Oh my god, so fucking boring. I just wanted to watch The Bachelorette," I groaned at him. "Yeah? Well that sucks. Who wants to watch some pathetic guys all drool over the same girl?" Matt rolled his eyes at me. "I do!" I yelled, making a last desperate attempt to snatch back the remote.
"Yeah, I bet you like that show because you're a little slut, and you're always juggling a bunch of dudes," Matt sneered. "Hey! That's really mean," I said in a genuinely hurt tone. "Not my fault that it's true," Matt responded harshly.
Sometimes, when Matt would say things like that to me, which was fairly often, it would make me feel a certain type of way that was hard to pinpoint. I was authentically disgusted and got my feelings hurt, but sometimes I'd feel a sensation of yearning in my core, and I didn't fully understand it. It was similar to being turned on, but it was accompanied by all these gross feelings of humiliation and anger, so I tried not to look into it much.
"You know, I just haven't found anyone worth committing to. Doesn't make me a whore," I defensively responded. "Whatever. Why do you care what I think? Is it cause you want me?" Matt smirked. "Absolutley not," I answered, following it up with a gagging sound.
"Yeah, is that how you'd sound, choking on me?" Matt laughed. "Ew, you're sick!" I shouted, storming out of the room. I decided to take a nice, long, hot, everything shower to cleanse myself of Matt's deranged behavior and how sick he made me feel.
I had everything I needed with me already - my razor, my body wash, my shampoo and conditioner, my entire skin care bag, and a towel, along with a change of clothes. I was still in what I'd worn to the gym earlier, and it was nice to finally shed off all my layers and feel the hot water hitting the back of my head and running down the rest of my body.
While I was shaving my legs, I thought I heard someone rustling around in the bathroom with me. "Matt?" I asked. "Chill, I'm just grabbing something. I'll be out of here in a minute," he said. "Fuck you, Matt. Whatever it is, it can wait. I'm in the middle of something here," I complained.
"What? Are you touching yourself?" Matt snickered at me. "Ew gross! I could never do that while I'm in the same house as you. Just get the fuck out. I'm trying to enjoy my shower," I felt myself growing red. I did feel a bit of wetness between my legs as I went to clean myself, but I certainly couldn't do anything about it now. I wouldn't let Matt be right about anything if I could help it.
After shaving and scrubbing just about every inch of myself, I shut off the water and stepped out of the shower. I went to reach for my towel and realized it was missing. And so were my clothes? "Matt!" I screamed at the top of my lungs, rifling through the different cabinets and shelves in the bathroom. The fucking pervert took anything I had to cover myself with when he was in here.
"You fucking asshole! Bring me my towel and my clothes!" I shouted out the bathroom door. "You didn't bring clothes or a towel into the bathroom with you? God, you really are a little slut!" Matt yelled back from a few rooms away.
"Not funny, Matt. C'mon. There's nothing for me to dry off with in here!" I yelled. "Well, I guess you're gonna have to come in here and get your towel," Matt responded. "Can you bring it to me?"
"Nope, sorry. In the middle of a game." "I'm not gonna wait 'til you're done with your game. Bring me my towel, jackass!" "That's no way to talk to someone who has the power to either bring you or not bring you your towel. You can always come in here and get it," Matt taunted me.
Fuck. "Fine, I'll wait here patiently 'til your game is over. Just please bring me my towel soon."
A few minutes later, I heard Matt's voice outside the bathroom door. I cracked it open and peered out at him. He was standing about six feet away from me, holding my folded towel. "Here you go," he smiled smugly at me, barely making an attempt to entend his arm. "My arms aren't that long, Matt. Please bring it to me," I reached my hand out, hiding my naked body behind the door. "No, you can meet me halfway," Matt teased.
I found myself getting so undeniably wet at this. I couldn't understand it. How was it that Matt, who was clearly very disturbed and also a fucking asshole, had me sexually excited over the fact that he was trying to humiliate me and see me naked.
"Fuck you, Matt," I said coming out from behind the door and trying to snatch the towel from him. He held it up in the air out of my reach. "You're such a dick, you know that? What? Is this what you wanted to see?" I said, giving up on getting the towel back and gesturing towards my body.
Matt couldn't help but to glance up and down my body and nibbled on his lip as he tried his hardest to contain his grin. "Why the fuck would I wanna see that? You're the one basically throwing yourself at me," Matt handed me my towel, winked at me, and walked away.
"Where did you put my clothes, Matt?" I said, wrapping my towel around me. "What clothes?" He rolled his eyes at me. "Not fucking funny. The only clothes that I have that are clean right now. Give them to me," I demanded. "No, I think you look better in that towel," he smiled at me.
"Perv," I called him. "I might be a perv, but you like it," he responded. "No, I don't," I quickly answered. "There's only one way for me to find out," Matt looked at me with a dark look in his eyes. "I bet you're wet right now, because you're a little whore, and you love being teased and showing off your body."
"I am not!" I argued back. "Let's make this interesting. Prove it to me, and if you're telling the truth and you're not wet, I'll do whatever you want," Matt said, "and if I'm right and you are wet down there, then you have to let me eat you out."
"Oh my god you're so gross, Matt," I pushed him back gently. "What do you want if you win our little game?" Matt replied. "You have to be nice to me for a month," I stated, "and you have to give me my clothes you took and finish the rest of my laundry while I go home and enjoy the rest of my night alone."
"Okay, deal," Matt said, reaching for the bottom of my towel and slowly pushing it up. I wasn't a religious person, but in that moment, I prayed that I wasn't wet enough for Matt to be able to tell. I bit my lip and held back a moan as he brushed his finger between my folds.
"Wow, naughty girl. You are wet," Matt observed. "Fuck you, Matt," I answered, my face reddening. "I knew you were touching yourself in the shower," he whispered back, continuing to run his fingers over my wetness. "No, I swear, I really wasn't," I responded, slowly losing my focus as Matt played with me.
"You mean, you got this wet and you didn't even touch yourself? You really are turned on, you dirty little whore," Matt growled back to me. "I hate it when you call me that," I moaned.
"You hate it? Your wet pussy is telling me otherwise," Matt teased me. "Sorry, correction, I fucking hate you," I lashed out. "I think you fucking love to hate me," Matt said, tilting my chin up with his finger. I pushed him again. I watched as something in his demeanor changed, the way his features darkened and became more serious.
He picked me up and threw me over his shoulder while my towel barely clung to my body. I protested and started hitting his back as he carried me into his room, but I secretly couldn't wait for him to have his way with me.
part two posted here 💖
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charlieleclerc16 · 4 months
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Lost and Found*
Summary: Charles and Y/N have been best friends since they were little kids but they lost track of each other over time. When Charles is in town for his home race they finally reunite and their meeting is sweeter than ever.
Pairing: Bestie!Charles x You
Word count: 4.4K
Warnings: Smut, fluff, cute. There might be some unprotected action in there, I'm sorry.
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It's been a very long time since you last saw your best friend. It has been years, which is a shame, but there were reasons. The biggest reason was that he was travelling all over the world for the World Drivers' Championship, and that caused his schedule to be incredibly full. There is also the fact that, because he is rarely home to begin with, you don’t get many chances to see him.
Charles always tries to keep in touch, even with the crazy life he leads. But that might mean only brief texts and the occasional phone call. Sometimes not even those. The last time you heard from him was six months ago when he called to ask how your family was doing. He sounded so tired but excited. You talked for an hour, and it was almost like the last years hadn't happened.
With the new season starting up and him being back on the road, you decided to contact Pascale and see if she could get you in for the Monaco GP. This is an amazing opportunity for you to finally see your best friend and to surprise him with your presence.
The excitement about race day has been building up inside of you ever since you decided to do this. You know you can't expect much attention from Charles after the race, but you're looking forward to seeing him and getting to see him drive. You haven't seen him in person in two years.
You take a shower and then put on the black top and red high-waisted jeans that you have planned to wear to the grid, gotta support Ferrari. When you get into the kitchen, you realise that you are too nervous and excited to eat, so you settle for a banana. You check the time and are happy to notice that you still have some time left to spare, so you go into the living room and switch on the television.
There are no good shows on, so you switch to the music channels and find one that is showing a rerun of an interview Charles did a couple of years ago. The whole country, how small it may be, always turns into full mayhem when it’s raceweek. You smile as you watch him talk. Even after all these years, it's still the same Charlie. He's still your Charlie. You feel a pang in your heart when he smiles his cheeky grin at the interviewer, and you realise just how much you miss him.
As if reading your mind, your phone vibrates on the coffee table. You reach for it and see Charles' caller ID on the screen. You pick up and bring the phone to your ear.
"Charles?"
"Hi, baby!" He sounds excited. "Did I call at a good time? Are you busy?"
"No, I'm not. I was just watching TV." She decides to not tell him that she is going to see him in a couple of hours.
"Oh, what are you watching?"
"Um, an interview. It's not important. What are you doing? Shouldn't you be getting ready for the race?"
"I have a free half hour, and I'm hiding, so nobody can find me. I really needed to talk to you, and I couldn't wait anymore."
"Why did you need to talk to me? Is something wrong?"
"No, it's nothing like that. You're coming to the track today, aren't you?"
Your eyes grow wide and your stomach somersaults. How did he know? Did his mother give something away?
"How...how did you know?" You finally manage to say.
"I'm not stupid, Y/N. I know how you talk when you're nervous and when you're not. When I talked to you about my home race last week, your voice didn't sound like usual. You sounded nervous, and it was pretty obvious that you were going." He laughs on the phone.
"Wow, I'm not very subtle, am I?" You feel stupid.
"You really aren't." His voice sounds warm and inviting, and you feel a shiver running down your spine.
"So, why did you want to call me, if it wasn't to tell me not to come?"
"Oh, I would never tell you not to come. I really want you to be there today."
"But… Don’t you have a very busy schedule? You probably won't even have time to see me."
"Don't worry, baby. I will definitely see you. If I don't, you should find the backstage area and tell them to let you in. I already told the security team your name. They'll let you in."
"Really? Charles, you're crazy. You have a race to prepare for. You shouldn't let random fans into your private space."
"But you're not a random fan. You're Y/N."
"I'm glad that you still think of me like that, even though we haven't seen each other in a while."
"What do you mean?" Charles sounds confused. "Of course, I still think of you as my best friend. Nothing can change that."
You feel a lump forming in your throat. You don't want to cry, not now. Charles means the world to you, and he will never know. You are not the kind of girl who confesses her love to crushes, not even when they are her best friends.
"Y/N, are you still there?"
"Yeah, I'm still here. I was just thinking about something."
"Well, stop thinking. We're going to see each other in a couple of hours." He is smiling; you can hear it in his voice.
***
When you enter the city centre, the excitement inside of you is unbearable. The atmosphere is incredible, and the streets are so crowded and so full of life and happiness. Everyone is happy to be here, and so are you.
You find your way to the Paddock Club, which thankfully Pascale got you an access pass to because you would’ve never been able to afford this. As you wait for the race to start, you keep looking around trying to find familiar faces and wondering what Charles is doing right now.
The sun was shining brilliantly over Monte Carlo, its rays dancing off the azure waters of the Mediterranean as one of the most anticipated events of the year, the Monaco Grand Prix, is about to begin. Your heart is racing almost as fast as the cars that would soon tear through the narrow, winding streets.
Charles was starting from P1. Your Charles, the pride of Monaco. His Ferrari sat poised and ready, a crimson beast waiting to be unleashed. As you watch the big screen showing the last preparations for the race, you can’t help but feel a swell of emotion. You are already so proud of him.
Soon the camera pans over the cars lined up at the starting line showing the drivers walking to their vehicles. He climbs into the car, and the mechanics begin their final checks. The roar of the engines filled the air, a symphony of power and precision. The grid is set, and the lights above the starting line begin their countdown.
Red. Red. Red. Green.
The cars surge forward, a blur of colour and sound. Charles holds his position, deftly navigating the treacherous streets with the skill and grace of a dancer. Every corner, every straight, he is in perfect harmony with his car.
From the paddock, you watch every moment with bated breath. Your fingers are crossed, your heart lodged in your throat. Lap after lap, he maintains his lead, his driving a masterclass of control and speed. The crowds roar, the tension palpable as the race unfolds.
As the laps dwindle down, you find yourself almost unable to watch. He is so close, so close to his biggest dream. The pit stops have gone flawlessly, the strategy executed to perfection. But Monaco was a track where anything can happen, and the slightest mistake can spell disaster.
Then, with a grace that seems almost effortless, Charles navigates the final corner and speeds down the straight towards the finish line. The checkered flag waves and the crowd erupts into a frenzy. He has done it. He won the Monaco Grand Prix.
Tears of joy stream down your face as you watch him cross the finish line, arms raised in triumph. The team explodes into celebration around you, but all you can see is Charles. He climbs out of the car, drenched in sweat and triumph, and your eyes meet across the chaos.
His gaze pierces through you, sending a shiver down your spine. And then, he smiles. That dazzling smile that has captured the hearts of millions. And in that moment, you know that your heart belongs to him, forever.
***
It's been hours since the race ended. After all the interviews, the podium, the celebration, Charles was finally able to get some free time for himself. His eyes are roaming the room, looking for a familiar face, but he can't find you anywhere. Maybe you left without saying goodbye. He feels disappointed. He wanted to see you and to hug you.
The door opens and someone enters the room. Charles doesn't bother to look up. He is too busy feeling sorry for himself. But then your voice is what catches his attention. "Hi, stranger."
He looks up, and there you are, standing in the doorway. He is not dreaming. You are here, in Monaco, and he has just won the race. Life couldn't get any better than this.
"Hi, Y/N." He stands up and walks towards you.
You are speechless. Seeing him winning the race made you so emotional that you had tears in your eyes. Now, standing in front of him, all those feelings come rushing back. "Congratulations on your win. I'm so proud of you." You say as he pulls you in a tight hug. His strong arms wrap around you, pulling you close. You close your eyes and breathe him in, his familiar scent surrounding you.
"Thank you. I'm so happy that you're here." His voice is muffled against your hair.
You pull back slightly, looking up into his warm, brown eyes. There is something in the way he is looking at you that makes your heart race. You have never felt more alive, more connected, than in this moment. You feel as if he can see into your very soul, and the intensity of his gaze takes your breath away.
"Me too." You say softly, your voice barely a whisper. He leans in closer, his lips just a breath away from yours. Your heart is hammering in your chest, and you feel a shiver run down your spine. You close your eyes and allow yourself to fall into the moment.
Just as you're about to kiss him, he pulls back with a chuckle as if he only now realises that you are in a room full of people. You look around and see his family and the Ferrari employees as well as the security guards who are probably watching the two of you like hawks.
"I'm sorry. I didn't realise..." He begins, his cheeks flushed.
"It's okay." You say, taking a step back and running a hand through your hair. "I didn't realise either."
The room falls silent, and you can't help but wonder if everyone heard your exchange. You feel your face flush, and you turn away, avoiding Charles' gaze.
"We should go somewhere more private." He whispers in your ear, making you blush. You nod and follow him out of the room. The security guards let the two of you pass, and Charles leads you down a quiet hallway. You follow him in silence, your mind racing. You can't believe what just happened.
When you reach a secluded area, Charles turns to face you, a sheepish grin on his face. "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable back there."
"You didn't. I just...I was surprised."
"Good surprised or bad surprised?" He looks nervous, and it makes you smile.
"Good surprised. Very good."
"I'm glad." He reaches out and takes your hand, his fingers intertwining with yours as you continue to make your way outside. "I've missed you so much, Y/N."
You smile up at him, feeling your heart swell with emotion. "I've missed you too, Charlie. More than you can imagine."
As you step out into the warm Monaco air, you can't help but think how lucky you are to be here, with him. He is the best friend anyone could ever have, and you feel honoured that he considers you his best friend. You squeeze his hand, and he squeezes yours in return. You know that, whatever happens next, you will always have each other.
Charles brings the two of you to a halt next to where his bicycle is stalled. "I totally forgot I came here by bike." He says, shaking his head. "Do you wanna come with me, or do you prefer to take a taxi?"
"No, no. I'll come with you." You don't want to spend a single minute away from him.
He smiles at you and nods. He climbs on the bike and motions for you to sit on the top tube as his bike doesn't have a rear rack. You hop on the top tube and wrap your arms around his handlebar for balance. "Jesus Christ, this feels dangerous."
"Just trust me." He says, a twinkle in his eye as he closes his arms around you to grab a hold of the handlebars.
"You sure we'll both fit on the bike?" You ask nervously.
"Of course, we'll fit. Come on." He starts pedalling and soon the two of you are zipping through the streets of Monaco, the sun setting in the distance.
You lean against him, feeling the warmth of his body, and you close your eyes. For the first time in years, you feel completely and utterly content. As the two of you ride through the streets of Monaco, his arms basically wrapped around you, you can't help but think that this is what happiness feels like.
"Charlie, where are we going?"
"Home." He says it so casually as if it's obvious that you belong there too.
You stay silent for the rest of the journey. You just want to enjoy the moment, savour the feeling of his body against yours. When you finally arrive at his apartment, the sun has almost disappeared from the horizon, leaving behind a pink and orange sky.
"Here we are." Charles says as he helps you off the bike. You can't help but notice how his hand lingers on yours, the contact sending a shiver down your spine. After a brief loss of contact to lock his bike, his fingers intertwine with yours and he guides you inside the apartment complex.
The elevator ride is silent, but it's not awkward. It's a comfortable silence, the kind you only share with your best friend. When the elevator doors open, Charles leads you down the hallway to his apartment, his hand still holding yours.
When he unlocks the door and ushers you inside, the first thing you notice is how big the apartment is. It's luxurious, just like he is, and you can't help but be a little jealous. He leads you into the kitchen, which is modern and well-equipped. "Make yourself at home. Do you want something to drink?"
"Just some water, please." You say, your mouth suddenly dry. He nods and busies himself at the sink. You take the opportunity to look around, taking in the sleek furniture and artwork adorning the walls.
When Charles returns with the glass of water, he can't help but notice the awe on your face. "What is it?"
"It's just...this place is so fancy. It's amazing."
He smiles, clearly pleased with your reaction. "Well, I'm glad you like it. Maybe I could give you a tour later."
"That would be great." You can't hide the excitement in your voice. You take the glass of water from him and sip it slowly, trying to calm your racing heart.
Charles walks over to the living room and you follow him like a lost puppy. It's when your eyes fall on the black grand piano that you gasp. "Wow, you have a grand piano!"
He turns around, a grin on his face. "Yeah, I love to play the piano. It's a good way to relax after a long day."
"Can you play me something?" You ask, unable to hide your excitement.
"Sure. What do you want me to play?"
"Anything. Surprise me." You say, smiling at him.
He walks over to the piano and sits down on the stool before he pats the empty space beside him. "Come, sit next to me."
You make your way over to him and sit down, feeling a little nervous. He begins to play, his fingers dancing across the keys. The melody is beautiful and melancholic, and it sends a shiver down your spine. You're completely mesmerised by him, by the way his fingers move so gracefully, by the look of concentration on his face.
As the music swells around you, you feel a sense of calmness washing over you. This is what you've been missing, what you've needed all this time. You lean your head on his shoulder and close your eyes, allowing yourself to get lost in the music.
"What is this song called?" You ask, your eyes still closed.
"I don't know." He whispers. "I made it up."
"You're so talented, Charles." You say, unable to hide the admiration in your voice.
He turns his head slightly and his lips brush against your forehead. "Thank you."
You open your eyes and look at him, the emotion in his eyes mirroring your own. You can't help but feel as if the world has stopped spinning and that it's only the two of you in the universe, in this moment.
He leans closer, his lips ghosting over yours. "Y/N, can I kiss you?"
You nod, unable to speak, and he closes the distance between you. The world around you fades into nothingness as his lips brush against yours. It's soft at first, tentative as if testing the waters of this new, uncharted territory. The kiss deepens, becoming more passionate, more urgent. His hands move to your waist, pulling you closer, and you respond in kind, your fingers tangling in his hair.
The taste of him is intoxicating, a blend of familiarity and excitement. You can feel the years of friendship and unspoken longing in every touch, every movement. It's as if the floodgates have finally opened, and all the emotions you had both kept hidden come rushing out.
When you finally pull away, both of you are breathless, your foreheads rest against each other’s. The room is silent except for the sound of your rapid breathing and the faint echo of the last note Charles had played.
"That was..." You begin, searching for the right word.
"Yeah." Charles smiles, a blush rising to his cheeks. "That was incredible."
You laugh softly, leaning into him and resting your head on his shoulder. He wraps his arm around your waist and holds you close, the warmth of his body soothing you. You sit there in silence for a while, enjoying the feeling of being close to each other.
"Hey, are you tired?" he asks.
"No, just relaxed."
"Okay. Well, I have a question for you."
"Ask away."
"Why didn't you ever tell me?"
"Tell you what?"
"That you love me."
Your eyes fly open, and your heart stops. He is looking at you, his expression serious. You swallow hard and try to think of an answer. But your brain doesn't cooperate, and you can't speak.
"W-what are you talking about?" You stutter.
"I'm talking about the fact that you are in love with me."
"No, I'm not. Why would you think that?"
"Because it's obvious."
"Oh."
"You look shocked whenever I flirt with you and after that so happy. It's the same look I have when I'm thinking about you." You can't believe what he is saying. Does he really mean it? Or is he just playing with your emotions? "Why didn't you ever tell me? Because of my job?"
"No, it's not that. I just...I didn't want to ruin our friendship. You're the most important person in my life, and I didn't want to lose you."
"Oh, baby. You will never lose me."
"Promise?"
"Promise." 
He cups your face with his hands and leans in again. Your eyes flutter closed, and his lips touch yours. The kiss is slow and gentle. His lips are soft and taste like mint. You feel a tingle in your stomach, and you can't help but sigh. His tongue darts out and caresses your lips. You open your mouth, and he slips his tongue inside. Your tongues tangle together, and the kiss becomes more passionate. When you finally pull apart again, you are breathing heavily. He smiles and strokes your cheek.
"You are so beautiful, Y/N. You know that, right?"
"Charles..."
"No, it's true. And you deserve to be told how beautiful you are every day."
"Oh, Charles."
He pulls you into his arms and kisses your temple. You lean against his chest and breathe in his scent. It feels so right to be here with him. After all these years, you finally feel like you belong.
"What are you thinking about?" He asks.
"About the fact that I don't wanna go home."
"Who said you have to?"
"What do you mean?"
"Stay with me tonight."
"Really?"
"Yes. Stay the night. I don't want you to leave."
"Okay."
He stands up and takes your hand. You follow him down the hallway and into his bedroom before he sits you down on the bed. He sits down next to you and strokes your cheek. You look into his eyes and see the same desire that you feel. You lean in and kiss him. His lips are warm and soft, and his tongue feels amazing. Your body is tingling, and you can't get enough. You wrap your arms around his neck and deepen the kiss. He pulls you closer and kisses you passionately. Your bodies are pressed together, and you can feel his arousal. You moan and rub your body against his. He breaks the kiss and looks at you. His eyes are dark with lust, and his pupils are dilated.
"Mhm, Y/N. You're driving me crazy." He pulls you into his lap and kisses you again. His hands roam your body, and you arch your back. He slips his hand under your shirt and cups your breast. You gasp and close your eyes. He squeezes your breast and rolls your nipple between his fingers.
"Oh God." You moan.
"Do you like that?"
"Yes. It feels so good."
He keeps massaging your breasts while kissing your neck. You grind your hips against him, and he groans. You can feel his erection, and it turns you on even more. He moves his hand to your other breast and starts massaging it.
He pushes you onto the bed and gets on top of you. His hands move under your shirt, and he pulls it off. You arch your back and expose your breasts. He licks his lips and leans down to kiss your nipples. He sucks on one and flicks his tongue over the other. You moan and dig your nails into his back.
He moves his hand down to your pants and starts undoing the button. He pulls them down, along with your panties, and tosses them aside. He looks at your naked body and smiles.
"You're so beautiful."
He leans down and kisses you. His tongue darts out, and he runs it over your lips. You part your lips and let him inside. He explores your mouth and moans.
"Mhm, I want you."
"Then take me." You say.
He pulls his shirt off and throws it aside. He undoes his pants and pushes them down. He kneels between your legs and looks at you. You can see his erection through his boxers. You bite your lip and reach out. You run your hand over his bulge and feel the heat. He groans and closes his eyes.
"Y/N."
"Yes?"
"I want you so bad."
"Then take me."
He quickly pulls his boxers down before he grabs your hips and pushes you further onto the bed. He lies down on top of you and kisses you. His erection rubs against your core, making you gasp.
"God, you're so wet." He moves his hand between your legs and strokes your clit. You moan and buck your hips. He positions his cock at your entrance and pushes in. You gasp and close your eyes. His cock fills you up completely, and you feel complete.
He starts moving slowly, and you cling to him. He kisses you deeply and groans. He moves faster, and you cry out. You wrap your legs around his waist and arch your back.
"Yes, Charles. Right there. Please."
He pounds into you harder, and you feel yourself approaching the edge. You never had sex that felt this right.
"I'm gonna come."
"Come for me, baby."
You scream his name and climax. Your body trembles, and you shudder. He moans and buries his face in your neck. You feel his release, and he collapses on top of you.
"God, Y/N. That was amazing."
"It was."
He rolls off of you and pulls you into his arms. You snuggle against his chest, and he kisses your forehead.
"So, this is where we've been heading since day one, huh?" You chuckle.
"Well, yeah. I just didn't expect it to take twenty years."
"Yeah, me neither."
"And I also thought we'd be more cautious about it." Charles laughs realising he completely forgot to use a condom.
"I don't know, I just didn't care."
"Yeah, me neither."
You kiss his cheek and rest your head on his chest.
"Charles?"
"Hm?"
"Will we be able to make this work? I mean, with our lives and everything?"
"We'll figure it out. I'm not letting you go."
"Good."
You close your eyes and listen to his heartbeat. He is holding you tight, and you can't imagine being anywhere else. You kiss his chest and slowly drift off to sleep in his arms.
543 notes · View notes
marvelfanfn2187a113 · 2 months
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Blood, Not Family
Sam and Dean & little sister!reader
Requested by Anonymous
Synopsis: set during 3x12, the boys get arrested and you’re left to fend for yourself with your abusive maternal family
Warnings: abusive family (no actual abuse shown), angst with a happy ending, the episode depiction isn’t exact because I don’t have it memorized
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Everything was going wrong.
You and your brothers had been taken in by Agent Henrickson and the rest of the FBI, and you hadn’t seen Sam or Dean for hours. You were in an interrogation room, your brothers probably locked away in a holding cell, and there was nothing to do but wait. That is, until Henrickson himself came to talk to you.
“You’re not being charged with anything,” he informed you begrudgingly. “But I still have a few questions for you.”
You remained silent, unwilling to be cooperative.
“Your brothers—I’ve looked into it, and it seems like you were with your mother and half brother for several years before they kidnapped you.”
“They didn’t kidnap me,” you snapped, your desire to remain silent overrun by your need to defend your brothers.
“They have no legal right to you,” Henrickson countered.
“Just because they didn’t go through the stupid legal channels doesn’t mean that they had to kidnap me. Maybe that’s what it means to cops and fancy lawyers, but not to me—they saved me, they didn’t kidnap me.”
“Saved you?” Henrickson considered your words for a moment before moving on. “And dragging you around everywhere? You’re a kid, still in school, you must not have wanted to go. They forced you, didn’t they? Huh? Roughed you around when you didn’t want to go.”
“No!” You insisted. “Not Sam and Dean. They’ve never hurt me, they’d never do that.”
“We’re talking about murderers here,” Henrickson argued. “A few hits or punches to their little sister doesn’t seem out of character.”
“They. Are not. Killers. And they’d never hurt me,” you said through gritted teeth.
“Fine,” Henrickson sighed, convinced that he wouldn’t get anything else from you. “Well, your family will be here any minute to pick you up. Your brothers are going away, well…forever.”
“Wait.” Your head shot up, all the breath leaving your body at once. “Wait, wait, you can’t—“
Henrickson was gone before you could even protest.
“Oh, sweetheart!” The sound was so sweet it made your stomach churn. A face that you’d hoped beyond hope that you’d never see again was suddenly right there, opening the door and smirking at you for all the world to see as she marched towards you, arms outstretched.
“Don’t call me that!” You growled, backing away and cringing as the nickname that Dean so often called you was uttered by this horrible, horrible woman.
“They’re here to pick you up.” Henrickson entered behind your mother, and it took him only a moment to sense the tension in the room. “Is something wrong?”
“I’m not going home with her, I’m not! You can’t make me go with her!” You cried, turning your pleading towards Henrickson.
“Oh, listen to the poor thing, she’s still in shock,” your mother cooed. “Those horrible boys must’ve hurt her terribly to scare her so.”
“They didn’t do anything to me!” You insisted. “You did! They saved me!”
“Saved you? Oh poor poor girl, she’s got Stockholm syndrome.” Your mother tried again to reach out for you, but this time it was Henrickson who stepped in.
“I…I think you should wait in the lobby,” Henrickson said, stepping between you and your mother. “I have just a few more questions for her.”
“Well…well alright then,” your mother said hesitantly. “But please hurry. We’ve been waiting to get her back for so long.”
“Of course.” Henrickson ushered her out the door before turning to you.
“You can’t make me go with her, you just can’t!” You wouldn’t—couldn’t—calm down until you were sure that Henrickson would get rid of your mother.
“Ok, just calm down,” Henrickson sighed. “She…she hurt you, didn’t she.” It wasn’t a question, not really.
“Please don’t make me go back there,” you begged.
“I…I can try to stall so that I can think of what to do. She has legal custody, so it’s going to be hard, but I’ll try,” Henrickson said finally. “For now, come with me.”
You held your breath as Henrickson led you out of the room, unsure where he was taking you as he led you down the hall. Your breath came easy when he led you through one last door, and behind it lay a row of cells, your big brothers in the farthest one.
The boys’ faces lit up when they saw you, safe and sound. Henrickson unlocked their cell and let you in before turning and walking out the door to confront your mother.
“Hey sweetheart.” Dean’s greeting as he pulled you into a hug was much more welcome than your mother’s had been. “You ok?”
“She’s here,” you whimpered. “He brought her here to take me, Dean.”
“What?” Dean’s arms tightened around you as he looked over your shoulder at Sam. You’d told them all about your mother and step brother, and he knew who you were talking about without you having to say her name.
“That’s not gonna happen,” Sam promised. “We…we’re gonna figure something out, ok?”
“He said you’re going to jail.” You pulled away from Dean and looked up at him. “He said you both are going away forever.”
“I’m not gonna let anything happen to you,” Dean promised, avoiding your comment about jail.
“You…you are going to jail,” you said, reading between the lines. You knew your brother well enough to know exactly what wasn’t saying. “No, no! I can’t let that happen!”
“None of us have a choice,” Sam cut in. “We just have to make sure that you don’t end up with your mom.”
“I’m not the only one that matters here!” You argued.
“You are to me,” Dean deadpanned. “There’s…” Dean swallowed, and you knew he was trying to keep up his tough exterior. “There’s not much hope for Sammy and me, kid. But I’m not gonna let that douche take you, I’m just not.”
“But—“
The flickering lights interrupted your protests. You looked up at them before turning to your brothers.
“That can’t be good.”
“Alright,” Sam said. “The plan is ready.”
Those flickering lights had turned out to be demons, and with a lot of convincing, the boys had gotten Henrickson on their side for the fight.
“This is ridiculous.” You cringed at the sound of your mother’s voice, finding yourself leaning closer to Sam almost subconsciously. “Demons? This is crazy! Those kidnappers should be locked up, and I should be leaving with my daughter!”
“Hey, if you wanna leave, you’re welcome to!” Dean thundered. “You wouldn’t make it ten feet before getting taken out by those demons, and that’s fine by me! But Y/N stays here. You haven’t earned the right to call yourself her family.”
“I’m her mother! And who are you? You’re barely even related to her!” Your mother argued.
“Blood isn’t the only thing that matters,” Sam growled. “And even if it did, she’s our sister—John is our father, too.”
“One absent father between the three of you can hardly compete with me, her mother,” she argued. “Besides, she has a big brother; one who isn’t a criminal.”
Your hand found Sam’s sleeve, and you gripped it tightly for comfort as your mother’s son—your step brother—smirked and stepped up next to your mother.
“He’s not my big brother!” You insisted. “He’s just your douchebag son that you let treat me like a punching bag!” You felt Sam’s hand find yours before he squeezed it, trying to help you calm down.
“Oh, so imaginative,” your mother huffed, rolling her eyes. “Honestly, I don’t know where you get such ideas, your big brother hardly hurt you.”
“Hey!” Dean snapped. “You don’t get to talk to her, and you don’t get to call her a liar. You—“
“Dean.” Agent Henrickson interrupted. “Sam—it’s time, it’s now or never.”
“Well then it’s never,” your mother sniffed. “I don’t know what kind of trick these boys are pulling—“
“Those dead agents of mine aren’t a trick!” Henrickson roared. “Now I need you to stay out of the way and shut up so I can do my job!”
Your mother looked like she wanted to fight, but Dean set the plan in motion before she got the chance.
“It’s over,” you breathed. “We did it!” You launched yourself into Dean’s arms, and he chuckled as he ruffled your hair.
“We sure did, kid.” Dean pulled away from you as he faced Agent Henrickson. “So…”
“So Sam and Dean Winchester died in a helicopter explosion, along with two of my agents,” Henrickson interrupted. “Rest in peace, boys. And I better never see you again.”
You grinned widely as Sam and Dean both nodded appreciatively.
“Yes sir,” they said in near unison.
“Wait,” your mother spoke up. “What does this mean for me? They-they can’t take my daughter!”
“I’d like to see you stop us,” Dean scoffed, wrapping an arm around you protectively as he led you towards the door.
“Agent Henrickson!” Your mother squealed. “Stop them!”
“Stop who?” Henrickson asked innocently. “Sam and Dean Winchester are dead; it seems to me that your daughter is choosing to walk away from you on her own.”
“Yeah, right,” your step brother scoffed, stepping up to block your way.
Sam stepped in front of him, his frame towering over that of your step brother’s, and his chest heaving with angry breaths.
“You really want to do this, punk?” Sam challenged. “Not so hard when it isn’t a kid half your size, is it?”
Your step brother gritted his teeth as he stepped out of Sam’s way.
You turned for one last glance at your mother and step brother before Dean could lead you out the door.
“You may be related to me, but you were never my family,” you said. “And you will never see my face again.”
And with your brothers’ hands grasped in yours, you turned away from your relatives, and left with your family.
Taglist:
@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl @chocorade @aestheticdaisies @inlovewhithafairytale @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl @casmustdiee
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heartofwritiing · 1 year
Text
His sweater
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paring: cc!wilbur soot x fem!cc!reader (featuring cc!tommy and cc!tubbo)
summary: you and wilbur are in a private relationship and one day while you’re streaming chat recognizes the sweater you’re wearing.
authors note: I wrote this a while back when I was coming back into writing. I'm sorry if its not as good as my usual stuff. the reader is a small streamer but she's close with all the britsh ccs, (bc she lives in the uk) she and wilbur are dating and no one knows not even their friends! but some of them do suspect it! I thought it was cute not sure if it's been done before and I really enjoyed writing it!!
warnings: secret relationship, anxiety attack, fluff, not proofread, and unedited!
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It was supposed to be a relaxed stream, chatting and hanging out before Wilbur got home. That’s what it started as. You logged onto Twitch around 7:40 or so, after hanging out with Tommy and the gang for the day. 
Wilbur had gone to his office. He told you to head off without him and said he would be home in an hour or two after he finished editing. That was fine with you. You didn’t mind when he worked late since you didn’t go to bed until around midnight.
No one knew you and Wilbur were together. Like together, together. They thought you were close friends. Not even your friends knew you and sometimes hanging out with them was hard because you wanted to be all
It's not that you were embarrassed by each other. You wanted your privacy and time together to be yours and yours alone. You knew everyone in the group could be eccentric about romantic relationships. You knew deep down they would be happy for you but this was something you and Wilbur agreed to keep secret. For a while at least.
Only a few times have you let it slip when you were out with friends. Everyone knew you two were close so it wasn't that odd to see you being close.
Phill was the only one who knew what was going on. Because once he had caught Wilbur taking your hand in his while you walked side by side. You both completely forgot he was walking right behind you. Separating your hand from Wilbur's when Phill was giving you a knowing glance out of the corner of your eye. Wilbur felt you let go of his hand and he turned to you pouting.
Wilbur got the message completely, seeing Phil smirk back at him. Then, to make matters worse Tommy caught on to Phill being suspicious about something all day. Hence began the young blonde bugging him about what he was all smirking about all day.
Then there were times when you both streamed together. Whether it be at your house or even playing on the SMP, sometimes things would slip out on both your faults.
Like you’ll flirt with each other, or he’ll call you love, or darling. Small things that not everyone can catch onto. Everyone thinks you’re roleplaying anyways but you both know it's not. If you’re on stream you’ll hold your hands under the desk out of view of the webcam. Wilbur would caress your knuckles with his thumb, letting you know he was there. Or you’ll lay your heads on each other’s shoulders during late-night streams when you’re so tired. Little things like that, and of course chat goes nuts for it. 
They think it’s adorable how close you guys are. You love it too. , some people ship you guys but you ignore it, not caring about what they think. It wasn’t anyone's business.
So here you were taking a sip of water from your bottle and as you read the chat a donation came up and it made you perk up.
“Alyssa thank you for the four months!” you read off the donation with a smile. It made you happy that people wanted to stick around with your channel and found it a safe community to fall back on. That was what you wished for.
Your chat was going slow as usual since only about 2,000 or so people were watching. You were comfortable in your little corner.
Your eyes skimmed through the incoming text on your monitor. You froze when you saw a particular statement about your attire.
User: Wait is that Wilbur's sweater?!
You didn’t dare say anything as you tried to shake it off but the comments kept coming in after that faster than before. Everyone seemed to recognize it since he often wore this one in videos. 
You had forgotten Wilbur gave you his sweater sometime early in the night. It wasn’t cold in Brighton during the day, it was warm in the sun. The perfect weather for a band shirt and your favorite pair of comfy pants. But after sunset, you had gotten chilly and Wilbur had offered you his sweater.
You shivered as the chilly wind made goosebumps rise on your arms. You wished you had brought a jacket before going out. You forgot to check the weather and you didn’t think you’d be staying out all day. It was fine, you weren’t going to make a big deal out of it.
Wilbur, who is walking with Tommy glances in your direction. Noticing your shivering state with your arms crossed, you failed to warm yourself up.
Without hesitation, Wilbur pulls his yellow jumper over his head and jogs to catch up with you. Holding out his arm with the sweater all bunched up in his hand, he nudged you.
You turn to look at him. Heat rushed to your cheeks at the realization of why he was handing you his sweater. He had noticed you were chilly and your stomach grew butterflies.
"You're shivering. I don’t want you to catch a cold."
You felt warm inside. You never thought you’d find the typical romantic gestures appealing but then you met Wilbur. Who proved you wrong. He was always a gentleman. It made you fall in love with him more and more.
You take it gratefully and put it on. The bright yellow contrasted against y/h/c and somehow made your skin glow. It made you look happy somehow, but it could be the fact you were wearing your boyfriend's sweater.  The smell of his cologne faintly lingers on it.
Wilbur blushed and felt a bit dizzy seeing you wearing his clothes sometimes, and now it was the same case. He thought you looked adorable and was glad he could help you be warmer.
“Thanks, Will,” you smiled.
You almost stood on your toes to kiss his cheek but stopped yourself short. You didn’t want the others to see. Wilbur didn’t care. He leaned right over and kissed your head quickly.
"Of course, darling."
You smiled at the memory of two hours ago as the chat was still spamming you with questions. You tried to ignore it so you booted up your saved game of Stardew Valley. Knowing everyone wanted an update on your farm.
As you played you would glance over to your other monitor and notice chat wasn’t letting up about the sweater. It was getting a bit on your nerves since chat was getting a little hectic and you wanted to have a normal stream. Suddenly you heard an alert for Discord on your computer and you perked up like a golden retriever.
“Oh hold on chat, I’m getting a message!” you say opening up Discord on the opposite screen, just in case. Hopefully, someone wants to join you for a game or chat with you for a while. You were optimistic about finding out.
You saw it was from Tubbo. You immediately got excited seeing a notification from one of your closest friends. Your eyes read his message carefully making your heart sink to your stomach.
Tubbo: Hey, Y/N I don’t mean to alarm you but you’re trending on Twitter. I think you should check it out. 
Below his message was a link and you clicked on it hesitantly, assuming the worst you were bracing yourself for. Twitter opened up to reveal a whole thread of posts involving various screenshots. You sat in your desk chair with your messy hair and Wilbur's sweater clinging to your body.
You tried not to show too much emotion on your face while you scrolled. Knowing that all your now 4,000 viewers were watching you with every beat.
Tears brimmed in your eyes as all this attention was starting to overwhelm you.
You typed back a reply to Tubbo.
This is bad, right?
You were trying so hard to keep it together, everyone was figuring out your secret. You didn’t want everyone to find out this way, especially not your friends. They deserve better.
No no no, they don’t know what they’re talking about and just ignore it.
Easier said than done tubs.
ik ik
I was watching your stream and I noticed chat being nosey and I could tell you were uncomfortable. Are you okay?
You moved your eyes back to the chat again. It was going even faster now. Your viewer count had gone up even more. Everyone was asking why you were being so quiet all of a sudden. You apologized to everyone before returning to your chat screen with Tubbo.
“I'm sorry guys just message my friend real quick.”
Yeah.
Listen y/n if it's true or not I’m happy for you either way.
I'm sorry you had to find out this way.
Don’t be. It’s not your fault.
Does anyone else in the group know?
Just me. And technically Ranboo but he hasn’t figured it out.
You giggled at that.
You were so enthralled talking with Tubbo that you didn’t even hear the front door open. Will was home, toeing off his shoes and hanging up his flat keys.
You typed to Tubbo that you were going to end the stream. Make up some excuse that you were too tired but you didn’t want to seem suspicious. That’s when Wilbur snuck up behind you and leaned down so that he could wrap his arms around your shoulders.
Chat went even crazy. Spelling his name in all caps. Chaos. Absolute chaos.
You instantly froze at the contact and stayed like that for a good solid couple of seconds in shock. The smirk on Wilbur's lips was still prominent, but what he did next stunned you more than you already were.
Wilbur leaned down and placed a kiss on your cheek tenderly. His lips lingered on your skin. Burning. You always felt this way when he kissed you. It was sweet and brief. You could feel his breath across your skin when he pulled away. Like it wasn't a big deal that he simply kissed you in front of thousands of people. Looked up at your monitor and smirked when he saw your chat going ballistic.
“Oh are you streaming?” he asked. Of course, he knew you were streaming, and yes he did see the tag trending. Tubbo had messaged him as well and Wilbur thought now was the best time to reveal. He wanted everyone to know you were his, and he was yours. So he hatched a scheme in his head to surprise you by coming home while you were still streaming. So, you were in shock that your boyfriend had come in and kissed your cheek on camera. In front of your viewers.
You were a bit mad at him at the moment. Then you saw how cute he looked with his head resting on your shoulder as he watched the chaos issue from his work.
“Guess the cat’s out of the bag now huh darling?” he hummed into your ear softly.
It made you flustered when you felt his lips brush your ear. 
“Now everyone knows you're mine.”
Your heart was beating a million miles per second. You couldn’t believe it was happening. You were so relieved and yet kinda annoyed with Wilbur at the same time for sneaking up on you. You wanted to swipe that cheeky grin off his face. He could be such a smart ass sometimes, but you love him for it. 
Now would be a good time to end this. You thought as you cleared your throat and kept your eyes on the chat log.
"Well, that's enough for me tonight, goodnight.” You finally say quickly, coming out of your flustered state.
"Bye chat,” Wilbur waves.
As soon as the outro screen came on you logged out of Twitch. Immediately, you lay your face in your hands and began crying. Wilbur grew concerned.
"Y/N?" He spun your chair around to face him. He got down to his knees in front of you and placed his hands on your arms. Your heart was beating in your ears, pounding as the situation became too much. Hitting that end stream button brought a sense of relief now that you could finally take it all in. Everyone knew. There was no going back from this. You were so sure that you'd never get a break from the constant questions and judgment that come with being a content creator. 
Besides you on the table, your phone was going off like crazy, vibrating and shaking with alerts. You lifted your head to stare at it in fright. Wilbur detected your uneasiness immediately and grabbed your phone to shut it off completely before turning his attention back to you. 
He brings his hand up to tuck strands of your hair out of your face and behind your ears. You try your best to begin a breathing exercise to calm yourself down. 
Inhale through the nose. 
Exhale out of the mouth 
Wilbur's touch begins to calm your racing mind and heart. His voice anchors you back to the surface of your deepest thoughts. 
Breath. Just breathe. 
“That's it, in and out." 
When you finally get your breathing down to somewhat normal and you surpass a panic attack. Wilbur doesn't say anything. Just holding you until you’re ready.
“I'm sorry,” you whimper and squeeze your eyes shut in shame. Tears flow out again as Wilbur shushes you. 
“Don’t be sorry, don't." He chastised.
“It was just a lot.” You sniffled. 
“I know, but it's going to be okay, you know why?” 
You shake your head from side to side. 
“Because I love you so much, and it doesn't matter what anyone else thinks. It’s you and me,” he reassured. 
You smile tearfully. “I love you too.” 
The rest of the night you are spent curled up next to Wilbur, your phones turned off to enjoy some time together away from the internet. The sudden sound of your PC exploding with the sound of the discord call ringtone has you groaning and pausing the movie you both were watching. You had forgotten to shut it down during the chaos. Wilbur goes over to your monitor to turn it off but sees it's Tommy calling. Reluctantly he answers and the room is filled with the teen's loud voice. 
“Why didn't you guys tell me!” he shouted, his voice breaking up through the speakers due to his loudness. 
“Hello to you too Tommy,” Wilbur spoke. 
“Wilbur! I never thought you’d get any women!” 
Wilbur glared over at you as you burst into laughter. It was clear that Tommy was surprised and happy for you both but he was also being his obnoxious self. 
“Alright Im hanging up now,” Wilbur says. 
“No, no!” he laughed. “Im genuinely really happy for you two,” 
“Thanks, toms!” you shouted from your spot on the couch. 
“Thank you Y/N!!” Tommy exclaims. ”See Wilbur, at least someone appreciates my remorseful attitude,” 
Wilbur rolls his eyes and ends the call, shutting down your pc so no one else could bother you. You laughed as he made his way back over to you on the sofa so you could continue your movie. Wilbur was likely going to try and protect you from being bombarded by your friends too much if you decided tomorrow that you'd talk to everyone, You were nervous to face them but you would know that nothing was going to change that your friends supported you. 
2K notes · View notes
mxtantrights · 3 months
Note
Jason finding out his so is pregnant with twins? 🤔
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probably really shocked. like big shock. didn't think that when the two of you were trying that this could happen. well, the chances aren't zero but it is low. low enough that it didn't even register that it could happen.
after the initial shock wears off Jason is probably trying to figure out how he's going to raise two kids with you. thinking about raising one was a total mind wreck, but this? This is going to take some planning. fine tuned planning.
Jason was already going to read all the pregnancy books but now he's reading double the amount. there are more ifs and maybes now that it's twins.
this also means that Jason has to make some investments. like two car seats. two car strollers. an actually car and not a motorcycle. (somehow the bat mobile is able to fit two car seats, don't ask how he finds this out)
doesn't want to know the genders. oh Jason is totally the type to want it to be a surprise. he wants to find out when you give birth. not at a baby shower and not in a doctors office.
probably stares at amazement at you all the time. not only are you carrying one life, you're carrying two.
satisfies all of your cravings. peanut butter and pickles? ice cream and French fries? done. foot massages, shoulder massages, soothing sounds to fall asleep to.
he also lets you sleep closest to the door for the nine months only because he knows you'll have to use the bathroom and it's easier and quicker for you to be near the door. but as soon as you've birthed the twins he's right back to sleeping closest to the door.
takes Polaroid pictures of you doing mundane things. says it's for the photo album that Alfred is putting together. (one day you ask Alfred about said photo album and he doesn't have any idea what you're talking about.)
Jason wants to name one of them, and he wants you to name the other. and he won't tell you the name ideas he has/won't listen to you if you try to tell him yours. likes surprises in this instance only!!
Jason probably has to be talked down from painting the room some ugly color. he wants to be inclusive but throw-up yellow is not it!
his siblings take care of a lot of things for him without him having to ask. suddenly the corners and sockets in the house are baby proofed. six month supply of diapers. wholesale club membership card in your name approved.
day of the birth Jason is calm on the outside but freaking out on the inside. he won't show it because you're already going through so much. (you find out about halfway through and ask him to freak out without)
you're in labor for twelve hours. Jason is there for all of it. he doesn't leave your side. the siblings become your henchmen. you need ice chips? Damian's got it. You need a nurse? Cass and Duke have your back. Need to watch better channels on the hospital tv? Tim is your guy.
Bruce talks to Jason while they both stare at your twins through the glass window of the nursery. Bruce doesn't have to say much, he knows Jason will be a good dad. And Jason likens Bruce's belief in him to his childhood with Bruce. Yes it wasn't normal but it was a childhood he'll never forget.
Jason carries both babies in his arms for the firs time and cries. Like silent tears rolling down his cheeks. You start crying too.
Jason's name for baby #1: Cassie
Your name for baby #2: Peter
a/n: OH MY GOD THIS WAS SO FUN TO WRITE!!! THANK YOU FOR SENDING THIS IN ANON <33333 didn't know how much I needed Jason to be a dad until I did this. you're a rockstar!!
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zygomantic · 5 months
Note
Nanami comforting a sad/depressed fem reader after he comes home from work. (Had a horrible day/week and need any kind of comfort)
A/n: Honestly same. Always happy to provide comfort, thank you for your request! This is very short but it is what it is. Also, reader could be considered gender neutral.
You're not alone.
Synopsis: Your husband Nanami comes home from work and finds you crying on the couch. He helps you through it.
Content Warnings: Mentioned Depression, negative thoughts
You blankly stared at the TV, which by now had been running for multiple hours. You'd spent your hours flicking through channels and streaming services, hoping to find anything interesting to pass the time until your husband came home.
Your frustration grew the longer you searched. Why did this have to be so complicated? Fuck, it just added to the pile shit that didn't work like you wanted to. Your job was stressing you out and you knew the next months weren't going to be any more relaxed. Nanami was just as busy, mission after mission keeping him away from home. You missed him but didn't fault him for doing his job.
Since this morning you were feeling down, and though you'd struggled with depression in the past, it usually didn't creep up this fast or suddenly. You knew very well that you were still recovering and that recovery wasn't a linear process, but a small part of you felt disappointed in yourself for feeling like this again.
Or maybe you felt comfortable like this. It was so easy, so familiar. If you were really on the way back to depression, you didn't think you had any strength left to pull you out of it again and forcing Nanami to help you made you feel selfish. It wasn't his problem that your mind was broken and your thoughts shitty.
It was all too much and your nose started burning, then your eyes watered and you didn't bother stopping the tears as they escaped. A headache had begun to form in the back of your head and you just sobbed harder.
By the time a key turned in the front door lock your face was soaked with tears and your eyes were red and puffy. You must've looked horrible, because Nanami's eyes furrowed as he walked into the room and saw you. You hadn't even hear him call out your name when he entered, too absorbed in your thoughts.
Nanami didn't bother hanging up his jacket, just dropped it to the floor and immediately made his way over to you. His hand was on your back, rubbing soothing circles into it as he tried to figure out what was wrong. First, however, he needed you to breathe.
"Darling, can you hear me?" His voice must've registered somewhere in your mind because you nodded, despite having already forgotten what he asked. "Good," he said, continuing his comforting. "I need you to breathe, dear. You remember the box breathing, right?" Another nod. "Alright. Now breathe in for four," he instructed and you tried to follow, not counting the seconds but still trying. "Hold for four," you did, "and exhale for four. Now pause for four."
It became easier after the first minute and Nanami walked you through every second of it. Once you'd gotten your breathing back under control, new tears threatened to escape at the though of how much of a burden you were. Always making him take care of you like you're a child or baby, how embarrassing.
"Don't." You looked up at your husband in confusion. "I can tell when you're thinking poorly of yourself. Don't do that. Please."
Your voice was quiet as you answered. "Okay." You pulled your legs up under the blanked and curled up into a ball.
Nanami's hand was still rubbing your back. "Can you tell me what caused this? What's going on? "
"I'm sorry. Sorry." Tears streaked down your face and Nanami's warm, big hand swiped them away carefully.
"There's nothing to be sorry for. We all have our off days. I'm sorry yours had to be today." His voice was so deep, so comforting, almost like a light to cling to while the rest of the world was trying to drown you.
"Work's just been..." You trailed off, not really wanting to think about all the things you had to do and the insane amount of paperwork that had to filed until the end of the not to mention the coworker that-
"Stressful?" His voice ripped you out of your thoughts again. "I get what that's like. Is there anything I can do to help?"
"I- just don't leave. Please. I don't want to go back to feeling like I did months ago. I can't- I-" Your throat closed up just speaking about theast time your depression hit you hard.
"I'm not letting you do this alone. I promise." His hand pulled you into his body for a hug and you melted into him. "I'm here for you. Always."
"Thank you." He almost didn't hear you, you were so quiet. "Thank you so much."
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pearlzier · 7 days
Text
────⠀ ⠀AT THE FAIRGROUND w/ SOLDIER BOY.
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NOTES .ᐣ idea came from the loveliest @sl33pylilbunny :3 this is SO cute i love it so much ohmygosh. used a jellycat cause i love em n want one really bad.
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"i'll win y'every single thing in this damn place if it'll get you to stop whinin' 'bout it," ben grumbles as he stares down the plush toy stuck within its glass enclosure. it's taunting him, taunting you. those beady black eyes.. it knows exactly what it's doing. and ben'll be damned if he loses to a fucking teddy bear with a pumpkin for a body. he'd beat countless of threats before—a teddy bear was nothing. and besides, you'd been giving the thing the softest, most adoring googly eyes from the moment you'd seen it. which was approximately.. almost an hour ago.
the staring was fine, sure, but the moment you started begging him to win it for you, for a good ten minutes? yeah, he has to get it over and done with, he realised. after the fifth, "ben, please, it's half teddy bear half pumpkin," he'd been practically sprinting across the fairground to make it to the infamous claw machine holding your future plush toy hostage. that toy would be yours, he'd make sure of it. it has to be.
he also wanted to prove the stories wrong, the ones saying that the claw machine was 'unbeatable' or that it took only luck to win it. he's soldier boy, for fuck's sake. "which one you want again, sweetheart?" he sighed, scratching the back of his neck momentarily. ben knew exactly what you wanted but he wanted to see the twinkle in your eyes when you mentioned it.
your brows raise skeptically for a minute when he asks, but a soft smile settles on your lips. "that one right there," you hum, "teddy bear, pumpkin body, it's literally perfect, oh my god," ben just watches you for a minute, a scoff escaping him. though the corners of his lips flit up at the sight of you and he sighs, "yeah, yeah, i got it. just watch 'n' learn." he gestured for you to step back a little bit, so he could work his magic.
honestly? anyone else looking on would've been so confused to see a guy like ben winning a stuffed toy. or at a fairground in the first place. he'd been totally reluctant, actually—it's not exactly his kind of fun but it is yours. he was wrapped around your finger wholeheartedly, he'd do every damn thing you asked him to. even if he wouldn't admit it, even if it was a little embarrassing for him. so dragging him to the fairground wasn't difficult at all when it came down to it.
and he had to admit, it was pretty cool here. it's halloween themed, with all the trimmings—haunted house, kids in cute costumes, the music. it almost makes him nostalgic, in a way. going on the rides was a lot of fun too, seeing the way you screamed and shriek when the two of you went on the drop tower was so much fucking fun.
"stop being a pussy—! holy fucking shit, this is it, it's over—"
what he didn't want to admit was the way he was also screaming and shrieking everytime the gondola got dropped. despite how he denied it, those photos you'd gotten on the way out completely corroborate your statement and destroyed his. those'd be perfect for your wallet, you knew. and y'know what'd be even better for like, your life, just, in general? that teddy bear.
"people say these things are rigged," ben starts, rubbing his hands together as if that's summoning the power he needs to beat the machine.
you stare at the back of his head for a moment, a skeptical sound escaping you. an interesting take from ben, sure, but everyone knows he has a lot of those. "is that not because they literally are rigged?" your words are amused, and you full on laugh when he pins you with that unamused look of his own. "just saying," your shoulders shrug, a smile playing on your lips at the sight of him.
"gotta have faith, baby," he tells you, deciding not to actually address what you'd said in favour of channeling any and all energy towards winning you the toy. "with all this strength o'mine it's gonna work," ben murmurs, holding onto the joystick like it owes him money. you won't be surprised if it does end up owing him money considering the odds of a claw machine like this one.
if he didn't manage to win the teddy bear, you wouldn't mind all that much. sure, you wanted it, but at the same time, the dedication that ben had to do it for you would've been enough. but also, you knew you wouldn't be leaving that damn machine without a pumpkin teddy bear in your hands. "you see, it's all in the technique."
"technique, huh?" you muse, moving a little closer to stand beside him and watch for a moment, hands moving into the pockets of your jacket. well, his jacket. you'd taken it since it was warm and smelt exactly like his cologne. "yeah, technique," ben nods, completely serious, not an ounce of sarcasm in his tone compared to yours. "told y'to watch 'n' learn, so watch 'n' learn," he cleared his throat, before his brow furrowed in concentration.
your watching and learning soon became watch and learn how to get narrowly close to being banned from a fairground. you're pretty sure the amount of profanities that came out of ben over the past.. probably ten minutes is enough to get the two of you thrown out considering how many children are nearby. might get a record for the most mothers covering their childrens' ears at this rate.
"ben, it's okay, i can just buy one off the websi—"
"you're getting this fucking bear tonight, darlin'," everytime you'd tried to convince him it was okay, that you guys could go get burgers and fries and call it a day, he told you that the two of you wouldn't be moving from there. "almost got it.. almost.." his tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip, as he inserted another coin into the machine. this time the joystick actually owed him money. and the thirty other times, but that didn't matter now.
you zone out a little bit now, assuming this'd be like the aformentioned thirty other times, where he'd spewed out obscenities, then proceeded to shove another coin into the machine like nothing had happened prior. ben had assured you this was his 'method' and everything was happening according to plan. he'd never exactly been great at planning, but there you were.
"i told you!" that snaps you out of your thoughts, and much to your surprise, when you look up, there's a teddy bear with a pumpkin for a body in ben's hands. he's beaming like an idiot, so proud of himself even if he'd been acting previously like he wasn't even breaking a sweat. he wipes his forehead, some sweat having accumulated from how hard he was working. a little concerning, considering it was a pretty cold day, but.. the dedication.
"oh my god, ben!" you're practically squealing, looking between him and the teddy bear back and forth rapidly before you find yourself wrapping your arms around the two of them. subtly tucking the toy by his armpit, he eases his arms around you in return. a smug smile settles on his lips, his head cocking to the side momentarily to get a full look of you so happy and clinging to his figure.
"just doin' what i gotta do, y'know," ben shrugs, his free hand cradling the back of your head gently. the two of you were completely blocking the claw machine from anyone else, some kid standing there awkwardly since he wanted to use it, but he decided you two were having a bit of a moment so he thought maybe the haunted house was a better choice. "you uh.. really like that thing, huh?"
"like you a lot more, actually," you mumble, grasping at his face and drawing him closer so you can peck your lips to his own. his eyes widen for a minute, and before he gets the chance to melt in more, you pull back. he pouts, glancing around a minute. it made sense, yeah, this is a fairground, but still. can't leave a guy hanging like that. he sighs, "had me workin' real hard there. think the least a guy can get is some good food, right?"
you hummed for a moment in mock thought. as if you were gonna say no and make him win another plush toy. he quite literally would've lost his mind if you'd asked him to. luckily, you nodded, "okay, yeah. burgers?" you offer too, head tilting.
"and fries, can't forget 'em," he murmured, nodding his head in return. before he walked with you to the food stands, he reached for the teddy bear and pushed it into your hands gently. a soft smile played on his lips, "yeah, now we're ready. c'mon, m'fuckin' starvin'."
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