#and I worry that it sounds entitled
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intrepidtrickster · 2 months ago
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Moominvalley and Snufmin
S4 Spoilers Under Cut
I’m so disappointed in how they handled Snufkin and Moomintroll this season. I had my worries, but I also had a lot of hope. They did deliberately put in those interactions. The team also kept reacting to mentions of Snufmin with winks and nudges in interviews and videos they put out. It makes me wonder what the point was. I genuinely feel like this was queerbaiting. And I don’t want to use that term because it doesn’t feel like one to use lightly. Even more so since I had such a great love for Moominvalley’s other seasons. Especially 1 and 2. It was genuinely really beautiful and soft and had such lovely queer undertones and moments. But I think it’s more than fair to say that the team knew about the reactions and how many people were introduced to it via Snufkin x Moomin. And they seemingly used that. They gave us build up but didn’t follow through. When it came down to it, they shrugged it off and didn’t address it at all. It felt so removed from Season 4. And I think that that, in essence, is queerbaiting. Because if you keep nodding to something throughout a series, using it to keep your audience waiting for the ‘inevitable’ conclusion to it that’ll certainly play out by the time the story ends only to snatch it away once you’ve secured your viewers and money, that is what that is. And I honestly expected better from the studio. If they weren’t going to commit, then they shouldn’t have kept bringing hopes up and making it seem like the direction it would go in.
(forgive the essay in the tags- I was thinking so many things)
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motherhenna · 1 year ago
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I was wondering if any of y'all have some go-to recipes that are super simple and straightforward to make that you'd be interested in sharing? Like meals that require as few steps and prep as possible? I'm trying to make more food at home and avoid highly processed microwave meals, but I lowkey hate cooking, especially when it's just for myself. While my executive dysfunction has definitely improved over the last month, I still very much have depression and ADHD and thus struggle to tackle more labor intensive activities unless there's a lot of dopamine release involved in the process. I obviously want to improve though, and I figure it's about time to stop living off my protein oatmeal. (It's super good tho, fairly nutritious, and really easy to make--just oats, protein powder, peanut butter, and a bit of honey).
I've compiled a bunch of possible recipes over the last few weeks (mostly from blogs listing meal ideas for picky children lmao), but was just curious if any of you had personal favorites of your own. Since I'm just starting out and have a shitty little 1970s apartment kitchen, I'm pretty limited, and don't really like dealing with super perishable ingredients like fresh produce yet. So only bother with sharing the kind of shit a latchkey middle schooler could make on their own lol
feel free to share them in the replies, or you can pm me or send me an ask too if you'd rather do that instead. It's much appreciated, and I'll let you know if I end up making your recipe!
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wereverine · 1 year ago
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if i had a nickel for every time a family member sold their switch w/o knowing that i desperately want one i would have two nickels which isn't a lot but it's weird that it happened twice
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malachitezmeyka · 10 months ago
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Violently swinging between still wanting to write that "Kuvira talks Suiren down from her manic cleaning spree" fic and not wanting to just rehash what I've written before/fearing I won't do it justice/genuinely scared of triggering myself again because I sink deeper and deeper with every breakdown
#and it's also like. what's the point#if only one person will read it. if there's a high chance I'll have to put myself through hell for close to nothing in return#maybe that sounds entitled and ungrateful. I don't care#I don't enjoy writing. never have. I'm not ashamed of admitting that if I force myself to write it's only because I'm looking for praise#and yeah. I know. this coming from the person who near damn deleted her fic after getting a genuinely nice comment on it?#make up your mind nia do you want engagement or not#but we're not talking about that right now#I guess my main worry is that I've already written astraphobia where while the inciting incident is different the gist is still the same#I'm drawn to concepts like these because I've put so much of myself into Suiren and her getting comfort is very spiritually healing for me#especially since my support network is literally limited to one online friend who doesn't always have the spoons to pull me out of my ruts#nor should it be her job to. I'm not implying that#but there's only so many ways I could write essentially the same thing. you know?#I don't think I could make it different enough for it to not be 'astraphobia but a little to the left'#and it sucks. because I've really been wanting to touch on Suiren's trauma responses that aren't completely shutting down#but I don't feel like I can pull it off#but no one else will but me....#ugh. I'm gonna talk myself into a breakdown if I keep on like this#I need someone to slap me every time I start talking like this. maybe that will train me out of it#just wrote out like five other self depreciating tags before realising that I was doing it again and deleting it#I need to stop
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raven-dor · 5 months ago
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me and my husband
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In which gwayne hightower is overprotective of his pregnant wife, and she begins to worry about the outcome of the birth
PAIRING: gwayne hightower x reader
WARNINGS: angst, anxiety, rough pregnancy, mentions of blood, arguing, fluff ending
WORD COUNT: 3.2k
AN: I read "chose me" by @entitled-fangirl and had to write something similar for gwayne!! this could also be read as part of the come back to me universe, but you do not have to read any other fic to understand the context!!
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She watched from the dark hall, her heart fluttering as he leaned back, exposing his neck and upper chest. Pregnancy awoke a dangerous animal inside her, one that needed her husband near her at all times. 
Instead, he sat in his office. 
She could not blame him; it was hard work, taking care of Old Town in place of his uncle’s absence. Seeing as his cousin had died recently, Gwayne would stand to inherit the Hightower title, and he all but jumped at the chance to begin his training.
But as of late, it seemed as if she needed him more than he needed her. Mere thoughts seemed to drown out her happiness, every attempt to block them futile. The larger she grew, the closer she got to the inevitable. She cleared her throat, making herself known to her husband. 
“Gwayne?” He looked up, smiling brightly. 
“My love! You should be in bed.” He stood up, ushering her over to a cushion. She glared, letting him coddle her for now.
“I am not inept.” 
“I know, darling.” He knelt in front of her, kissing her hand gently. “But you also know that I cannot help but worry for you.” He caressed her stomach, whispering. “And how is our little one?” 
“You have no need to worry, I assure you. The Maesters say the babe is perfectly healthy; there is no cause for concern.”
“And you?” He kissed her hand once more. “How do you fare?”
She was taken aback by that question, avoiding the question. “Do not worry about me.” 
“That is my job as your husband.” He walked back to his desk, putting out the flickering candle. “And Maesters are not always correct.” 
“That is a rather skeptical view.” She grabbed the handles of the chair, pushing herself up. Gwayne glared. 
“Please ask for my aid next time you plan on standing.” 
“Shall I ask you to help me relieve myself as well?” She glared back. “I love you; you know that I do. But I am not a frail piece of straw. I will not break from a gust of wind.”
“You are carrying the future heir to the Hightower name, my dear.” 
Terms like that make her uneasy. That is all she heard all day. ‘Future heir,’ ‘Hightower name,’ ‘a boy.’ All phrases she had heard over a hundred times. She just wanted a moment of peace where she was not reminded how little she mattered in this situation. A tight smile graced her lips, and she lost all humor in her tone. “As I am constantly reminded.” 
He grabbed her hand, walking slowly out of the office. “All I ask is that you take care. If not for me, then for the sake of our child.” 
“I am careful.” She glared. “You know this. It’s not as if I go looking for things to hurt the babe. Do not treat me like a child to be watched over.” 
He rubbed a thumb over the back of her hand. “I do not mean to upset you-” 
“Well, you have.” She scoffed. “You have somehow managed to insult my care for your future line and my child in one blow. It is astonishing, truly. I applaud you.” 
“You know that was not my intention.” He shut their bedroom door, removing his shirt. Y/N tried to keep herself from blushing at the sight, but when he looked like that, it was hard to do. He knelt in front of her, holding both of her hands in his. “I am sorry.” 
She hummed, walking away and sitting in front of her vanity. “Yes, well, I suppose I forgive you.” 
He grinned. “I am glad of it.” 
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The woods were peaceful, a nice retreat from the bustling of Old Town. Her velvet green dress dragging behind her. She hummed, closing her eyes and listening to the sound of the trees swaying. There was a lake nearby that she desperately wanted to swim in, and stare up into the sky of blue. Pushing the tall grass out of her way, the clearing stretched out before her, the lake at the center. She grinned, running down the hill with a newfound joy.
“Y/N? Where are you?” 
Her smile fell, remembering the whole reason she had even been ‘allowed’ to go on this excursion. He’d only let her go if he came along. She sighed, turning around and walking back up the hill. “Coming, my love.” 
The auburn-haired man smiled, wrapping his arms around her waist. “Where did you run off to?” 
“The clearing.” She traced shapes on his chest. “I was thinking, perhaps you could join me for a swim. It is a perfect day for it.” 
“I-” 
“My lord.” Their guard’s voice echoed through the forest. Y/N groaned, falling against her husband’s chest. Gwayne kissed the top of her head, smiling sympathetically. “Another time, I swear to you.” She sighed, nodding. A finger hooked under her chin, his eyes serious. “You look far too melancholy, my love.” 
“Well, perhaps if-” 
“My lord, I’m sorry, but it is most urgent.” 
Gwayne sighed, intertwining his hand with hers. “What is it?”
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The Maester’s Wing was dim, with just a few candles keeping light. Gwayne had been summoned to settle a squabble between the townfolk, leaving Y/N to visit the old man herself. She tapped her foot, waiting for the Maester to ask her the questions she dreaded. But those questions never came. 
“My lady.” 
Y/N smiled, nodding. “Maester Jon, it is wonderful to see you.” She held her stomach. “Tell me, any developments my husband or I should be aware of?” 
“Unfortunately, yes, my lady.” He sat down. “It seems, from what we can tell so far, that the birth may result in a breach pregnancy.” Y/N’s blood ran cold, and she felt her breath catch. “A breach pregnancy may result in a choice needing to be made.” He leaned forward, a sympathetic look on his face. “Do you understand what this means, my lady?” 
She nodded, standing up quickly. “I do. Thank you, Maester Jon. I shall relay the news to my lord husband.”
She gave one last look at the dark corner before practically running out of the wing. She burst through the hall doors, dinner in full swing. There sat Gwayne, eyes drooping, visibly exhausted from his duties. 
Who was she to worry him anymore?
Y/N sat beside her husband, kissing his cheek. “How was your day, my love?” 
“Infinitely better, now that you are here.” He smiled. “How was the visit?” 
She took a large sip of her wine. “Well. All is well.” She grabbed his hand, squeezing it tightly. “I love you.” 
He grinned, squeezing back. “I love you much more, my dear.” 
If he chose the babe, she knew she would surely die from heartbreak before she bled. She laughed, her eyes watering. “I do not think that is possible.” 
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Since learning of the news, she’d been restless, barely sleeping and often waking before the sun. Its bright rays peeked through the curtains, hitting her skin. The warmth soothed her for a moment, but it was just that, a moment. 
The babe kicked harshly, a quiet groan leaving her. She stared at the ceiling, thinking that in just a few short weeks, she’d be giving birth in this very bed, staring at the same ceiling. 
It had always been described to her as horrible and painful beyond recognition. And now that she was carrying an heir, which could possibly be breach, she almost wished she could go back to when they first met and stop herself. When she didn’t have to worry about what she did or where she went, she could just be free. 
He would be pressured into choosing the child over her; she knew this. Sometimes, when the need for an heir was strong, women had been carelessly cut open, being left for dead. It had been done many times, most notably in her lifetime, by King Viserys. Rhaenyra had told her of his actions: how he’d carelessly cut Aemma open, and her mother bled out on the bed without ever getting to hold her babe. 
She looked over at her husband, fast asleep and dead to the world. His hair covered his eyes; his face was shoved into the pillow haphazardly. She giggled; he’d always slept like there was no tomorrow; it was heartwarming, to say the least. She leaned over, pushing the hair out of his face, kissing his forehead gently. 
 Rolling to her side, she quietly stood, careful not to wake him. Grabbing her robe from the wardrobe, she made her way to the dining hall, eager to eat something of actual sustenance. 
After learning of the news, she had picked at her dinner, telling Gwayne it was because the babe made her nauseous. 
In a way, it had. 
The smell of bacon and eggs flooded her senses, and she rounded the corner, the doors of the hall wide open. Greeting the occasional servant that passed by, she sat down, piling food onto her plate. 
“My lord.” Y/N looked up to see her husband stalking toward her, not even acknowledging the man who had greeted him. Odd, he normally slept as long as he could before starting his day. She smiled brightly. “Good morning, my love.” 
He raised his eyebrows. “Is it a good morning?” 
“Quite.” She tilted her head. “Why? Is something amiss?” 
He nodded, crossing his arms. “I awoke, and my wife was gone. Imagine my surprise.” 
She had felt horrible leaving him, and fighting would only give him more cause to choose the babe. “I am sorry if I scared you.” 
“You should be. And another-” He stopped, shock adorning his features. “You are sorry?” 
“I should have woken you. It was my mistake.” She pat the chair next to her. “Please, join me.” 
“I’m afraid I cannot. I have to meet with the steward this morning.” 
Her heart clenched. “I can join you if you’d like-” 
“It is not necessary. I will only bore you.” 
She murmured, reaching out to grab his hand. “You have never bored me.” 
“You are kind, but I’m sorry, I cannot be distracted.” He grabbed a plate, placing a biscuit and two pieces of bacon haphazardly.
She scoffed, glaring at her lord husband. “I did not realize I was such a distraction."
"Y/N...."
"Perhaps I should stay in my chambers for the remainder of my pregnancy. To keep you from further distraction.”
“That is not what I meant, and you know it.” 
She stood, her eyes cold. “I know nothing of the sort.” She looked over his shoulder, beckoning over a servant. “Please move my things into the adjoining room. I will be sleeping there-” 
Gwayne sat his plate down, looking at the servant. “Do not move her things.”  
“My lady?” The young girl looked frightened, scared that she was caught in the middle of their argument. 
Y/N sighed, dismissing the girl. “It is alright.” She walked away, yelling back at her husband. “I shall do it myself.” 
“Y/N!” Gwayne yelled, dropping his plate and running after her. “Come back here at once.” 
She ignored him, walking faster. The stairs proved to be a challenge, holding the railing tight. Gwayne placed a hand on her back. “Let me-” 
She flinched, pushing him back. “Don’t.” 
He mumbled. “You may hate me all you want after this.” 
“After what-” He hooked his arm under her legs, carrying her up the stairs. “Gwayne Hightower! You let me down right now!” 
The top of the stairs was a relief; she practically jumped out of his arms. She walked into their joint chambers, filling her trunk with things she would need. Gwayne sighed, watching from the doorway. “Will you please just-” 
“I will leave you to your devices, my lord. I hope your meetings prove well spent.” Dragging the trunk through the door, she slammed it in his face. 
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That had been three days ago. They’d seen each other in the halls and at meals, but other than that, Y/N steered clear of her husband. For the better part of the day, he’d been in a meeting with the patrons of Old Town, or so she’d heard. Y/N took that as an opportunity, rushing out of the castle’s gates. Squealing, she cut through the tall grass once more, racing down the hill towards the lake. She threw her dress off, her petticoat barely revealing her modesty. Not that anyone would see, this part of the wood was only known by the family. 
The water did wonders for her nerves, cooling her skin. Her hair stretched out past her waist, flowing like the tall grass that surrounded this oasis. She floated for what seemed like hours; the babe had not stirred once. She hummed, rubbing her bump gently. “It is quite peaceful here, is it not?” 
A kick. 
Y/N grinned, her eyes tearing up. “Please, try your best to make this an easy birth. It would break my heart not to meet you. If that is the case, don’t worry. Your father’s a good man; he’ll raise you well.” 
No kick. 
She laughed. “Do not ignore your mother. It’s quite disrespectful.” 
A kick. 
“I miss him too, my love.” 
A voice broke through the silence. “Miss who exactly?” 
Y/N jumped, standing in the water. “My lord, I did not expect you-” 
“I was in a meeting when a guard informed me you were running out of the castle gates.” His face looked conflicted, but she didn’t want to address the fact that he most likely heard that whole ‘conversation,’ so she remained silent. “Is there something you wish to tell me?” 
So he had heard. She smiled, trying to act as if nothing was wrong. “I do not know what you are referring to, my lord.” 
“Stop.” Gwayne sighed. “You haven’t called me that since before we were engaged, and I do not wish for you to start again.” He stepped forward, extending his hand. “Please come out of the lake.” 
She walked past his hand to her dress, every attempt to retrieve it proving futile. “Here.” Gwayne knelt down, picking it up off the stump. “What would you have done if I hadn’t been here?” 
“I would have figured it out, thank you very much.” She glared, pulling the frock over her head. “Do you not have another meeting to attend, my lord?” 
“I canceled them.” He laughed, stepping forward. “After I heard my wife was running away from our home, I thought it best to tend to the matter myself.” 
“How wise of you.” Y/N crossed her arms. 
“Shall we go to bed?” 
“I am not tired.” She walked up the hill, leaving him behind. “Have a restful night, my lord.” 
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She slammed her bedroom door shut, leaning against it. She was tired; she hated to admit it. But she wouldn’t have told him that. She walked over to the window, placing the bouquet she picked on the mantle. A reminder of the freedom she once had. A reminder of life before she faced death itself. 
A knock rang out. “May I come in?” 
She tensed. “If you must.” She faced the window, too scared to face him. If she looked at him, truly looked at him, she thought she would start crying. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?” 
“I have to ask you something, and I want you to answer me honestly.”
She nodded, walking away from the window and placing her robe in her wardrobe. “Ask it then.” 
“Do you still love me?”
Her heart stopped. “I-” 
Gwayne stepped forward, wrapping a singular arm around her waist. He drew her in, his scent engulfing her senses. She fought herself not to fall for his spell, but as he leaned his head down, and his breath hitting her neck, she knew she would not last. “If you do not, speak it plainly because I- I cannot go on like this any longer.” 
She turned around in his arms, placing her arms on his chest. “I do not believe I could ever stop loving you. Trust me when I say this.” She smiled. “I’m afraid it’s terminal.” 
“Ah.” He let out a sigh of relief. “Then what is it that troubles you so?” 
“I do not know what you-” 
“I beg you, do not finish that sentence.” He tilted her chin up, worry in his eyes. “What ales you, my love?” 
“I am simply nervous.” She to be out of his arms. The longer she stayed in his embrace, the more compelled she felt to tell him. “It is nothing, I swear to you.”
He raised his eyebrows, pulling her hands from his chest and kissing them gently. “Please do not lie to me.”
“That night I visited the Maester, he told me something.” He nodded. “He said with the way the pregnancy is progressing, it is possible that the babe will be born breach.” Her voice grew quieter the longer she spoke. 
“That’s not all, is it?” 
She pushed out of his hold, walking to the other side of the room. “I’m so sorry, Gwayne. Truly, I am. Please forgive me-” a sob wrecked her body. “But I want to live. Please.” 
Gwayne shook his head. Where was this coming from? “Whatever are you talking about?” 
“I know I have been acting radical as of late, and I apologize, I just thought-” She hiccuped. “I thought it would make your choice easier.” 
“What choice, darling?” 
She whispered. “Between me and the babe.” 
“Why would I-” It dawned on him. Had she really been dealing with this all by herself? “Oh, my sweet girl. Why did you not tell me?” 
“I didn’t want to stress you any further.” She hugged herself. “Please, Gwayne. I swear I will give you another heir if this pregnancy-” She shivered. “Just don’t cut me. I beg you.” 
He dropped down in front of her, grabbing her hands in his. “Listen to me well. I could sire a hundred children, but you. You are one of a kind, and I will always choose you.” He kissed the back of her hands once more. “Irreplaceable. You must know this.” 
“Gwayne, no one is truly irreplaceable.” 
He stood, his eyes dark. “Do not say such things again. Swear it to me.” 
“I-” 
“Swear it, Y/N.” 
“I swear.” She whispered, cheeks red. “I swear to you.” 
He nodded, smiling lightly. “I’m sorry.” 
“For what?” 
“For coddling you.” He stepped closer, caressing her bump. “I am scared as well. My own mother had many a difficult pregnancy, and I would never forgive myself if something happened to you.” 
“I am sorry as well.” She placed a hand on his cheek. “I should have come to you with my worries. I did not want to burden you. And I will make sure you have your heir. I promise you that.” 
“I do not care if the Hightower name crumbles away into nothingness. As long as you are content, I will be as well.” He leaned down, their foreheads touching. “There would be no point to this without you. I fear I could not do this if you were not by my side.” 
“You have been doing perfectly fine as of late.” She winced. "I truly am sorry.” 
“No more of that.” He whispered, staring at her lips. “May we please go to bed?” 
She nodded, knowing if she tried to speak that words would fail her. She lay on the bed beside him, tracing his freckles. “Sleep, my love.” He wrapped an arm around her waist. “I will be here when you wake, I promise.” 
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pedriscroquettes · 3 months ago
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𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐌𝐔𝐘𝐄𝐑𝐎 ✼ FRANCO COLAPINTO
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summary. you hated franco for stealing your friend’s seat not knowing that it’d lead to a night of regret.
warnings. enemies to fwbïżœïżœïżœs, p in v, semi public s3x, major plot twist at the end, & cheating. franco & reader match each other’s FREAK! 18+
a/n. gif by argentinagp! i love latinos!
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YOU HAD PROMISED everyone on the paddock that you wouldn’t judge the new driver too quickly. The week leading up to his arrival had been spent reminding yourself that he didn’t steal Logan’s seat on purpose yet you were still mad. You had grown quite fond of the american over the past months and losing a friend had made you bitter. You couldn’t bring yourself to blame Logan for losing his seat so you resorted to the newly arrived brunette.
“He doesn’t bite.” Alex whispers as he notices the glare you’re sending the brunette.
“But he scavenges.” You murmur as the press surrounds the rookie.
“It’s not like he killed Logan.” Alex scoffs.
He didn’t but it felt like he had. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at the way the media had already forgotten about your friend and put Franco on a pedestal. He had just arrived a day ago and already he was flaunting himself as the next Hamilton reincarnate. You turn around too frustrated with yourself for hating him when you didn’t even know him.
“Hola.” A thick accent interrupts your thoughts. You hesitantly turn around only to be met with the guy who took your best friend away. “Those colors don’t suit you.”
“Excuse me?” You replied shockingly wondering where his sense of entitlement came from.
“Ah, lo siento. I meant blue would look better on you.” His cheeks change hues realizing his words came out wrong.
“It would If I cared about Williams.” You smile sarcastically watching as his smile falters. “I’ve gotta go but score at least one point, yeah?”
Franco stays still in disbelief wondering if his comment on your clothes had completely pissed him off. Was his english really that bad? Did he come off too strong? He wondered if the rest of the paddock would hate him or if he was just overreacting.
“Don’t worry about her mate. She’s very reluctant to new people. Give her time.” Alex shrugs.
As the weekend progresses you spend your time between the Alpine garage and the trailers. You were lucky Alex and Lily had agreed to spend the whole weekend with you. You stared at the street as Leo climbed into your lap making you pet him. Practice had just started and you couldn’t help but keep a close eye on Williams. You had began to mindlessly rant to your friends over your encounter with the rookie and how it would most likely take him months to replace Logan.
“When this weekend is over I’m taking you with me to workout because you need to relieve that anger.” Lily laughs.
“No, seriously. You’re acting like he’s committed first degree murder when he had nothing to do with Logan leaving.” Alex sounds concerned.
“Look, I know I sound crazy but I swear there’s something off about him. Plus, y’all do remember the comment he made about me right?” You tried to validate yourself.
“English isn’t his first language it was an honest mistake. Either way he just took that Williams to Q1.” Lily motions towards the screen.
“Whatever. Are we all still on for Sunday?” You asked referring to the plans the drivers had made after the race.
“Obviously. Although we may need to monitor you all night to make sure you don’t damage the new rookie.” The two of them laugh as you sit there annoyed.
The sun was beginning to set as you made your way back to the Alpine garage. Your short white dress was the perfect outfit to keep you cool during the blazing heat of the summer. You were excited to spend the afternoon debriefing with Pierre until you run head first into someone. You try to balance yourself by holding yourself against their chest and as you slowly bring your head up you brace yourself for the apology you’re about to make. But then you see his face and that apology never makes it out your mouth.
“Do you not watch where you’re going?” You scoff at the Williams driver.
“I do. I do it very good actually. Or I wouldn’t be here.” He jokes. “It was you who couldn’t see well or else you would’ve seen me.”
“You’re quite full of yourself aren’t you.” You murmur as you fix your dress.
“People pay me to drive of course I am.” He pulls his sunglasses out his face to look at you directly. He has a glint of confidence in his eye and you can’t help but roll your eyes at his ego.
The two of you stood there alone as practice was long over and the drivers had gone back to their trailers to wind down. Your friends were probably going to ask you why you were late and you couldn’t bear the thought to tell them that you’d gotten into another argument with the rookie. You would get teased for it until the season ended.
“You know this whole hating me thing because you think I stole your friend’s seat, when he lost it because he wasn’t good enough, is so hot.” He smirks.
Any quick remarks you once had were now completely forgotten. His words completely took you by surprise and now you were just confused. Had he taken your witty words as flirting? Had you mistakenly led him on? Or was he just being a prick?
“Though, you could put that mouth to better use.” He says loud enough so only you can hear.
Your cheeks heat up at his comment and you can’t help but feel flustered at his words. Suddenly even the short dress you were wearing wasn’t enough to keep you cool. You instinctively bite your lip as you try to think of anything to say to him but you’re utterly speechless. He’s finally gotten under your skin and he hasn’t even raced yet.
“There’s something genuinely wrong with you.” You say.
“Adiós nena.” He smiles at you before wandering off leaving you all alone to process what had just happened.
The rest of the walk to the Alpine garage is awkward and quick. You try your best to store the encounter with Franco in the back of your mind. You do a bad job at it because his words echo in your mind for the rest of the day. You don’t tell anyone what happened that day because it was weird and also you weren’t even sure what had happened that day.
It’s finally race day and you brush off your white skirt as you walk towards the paddock. You’d meet the girls in the Ferrari garage as Charles had wanted to surprise Alex with a girl’s day. You kept your hands above your eyes to protect them from the sun while subtly trying to ignore the camera flashes headed towards you. As you approach the garages you pause for a little. It had become a tradition for you to greet Alex before any race, a superstition that began when Pierre won the Italian Grand Prix, but now you were hesitant to visit the Williams garage.
You sighed coming up with the decision that an awkward conversation with the Argentine rookie shouldn’t stop you from visiting one of your closest friends. You do a 180° heading straight for the garage. It’s a short walk due to you walking as fast as possible to Alex’s booth. The engineer’s greet you already recognizing your face from the past couple of races. There’s a huge group of familiar faces in the room except the Thai. Your eyes drift around hoping to find him so you’re not late to meet up with your friends but you can’t find Alex anywhere.
“He’s with Lily.” A voice spooks you.
“Franco.” you sigh. “What are you doing here?”
“I work here. The real question should be why are you here?” His condescending tone irks you as he plasters that dumb smirk on his face.
“That’s none of your business.” You reply. “Tell Alex I was looking for him. I’ll be on my way now.”
He grabs your wrist before you can turn on your heels stopping you. You’re now completely face to face with him that you can practically feel his body warmth.
“Something tells me you came looking for me using your friend as an excuse.” He says below a whisper.
“Did your parents teach you that the world revolves around you? Has it ever occurred to you that you are not as important as you think you are?” You scoff. “I’m here for Alex and I would be here for Logan too but you ruined that.”
“Ay, boluda.” He laughs in disbelief. “It seems the only condescending person here is you because guess what? I earned this seat. My parents sold our house so I could be here meanwhile your little friend just spent his trust fund and wasted it.”
You run out of remarks at that. You’d spent all this summer terrorizing him unaware of who Franco really was. Although you weren’t going to apologize, you were too proud for that.
“It’s okay though I wouldn’t expect for a pretty dumb little thing like you to get it.” His voice goes hoarse. Your mind goes blank at his words unable to register his hand ending up on your waist pushing you into him.
Those are the last words he says to you before he abruptly pulls away leaving you alone to process the encounter. Your hand instinctively goes to the necklace on your neck caressing it as you try to regain your breath. You can feel how warm your cheeks are and instantly feel embarrassed at the weird tingly feeling in your stomach. Most importantly you couldn’t believe that out of all the people here Franco is the one who put you in this state.
“Oh, good you’re here! Hopefully I’ll get points today because of you.” Alex smiles at you.
“Go crush them. I have to go though have to meet Gasly before the race. You know go over his strategy for the race.” You stammer trying to find an out of the Williams garage.
“Yeah mhm.” He waves you off. “The two of you better show up to the party! Last one before the break!”
The Ferrari garage erupts into cheers as Charles makes it on the podium again. Alexandria and Lily both scream into your ear as both their boyfriends score points for their teams. Meanwhile you stare blankly as the screen as it shows both Alpine cars outside of the points. Then as if the Universe was making fun of you, Franco shows up on the screen celebrating his P8. You hated him, you hated his confidence, you hated the way he took Logan away from you, but most importantly you hated him because the sweaty messy hair he was showing off made you weak. Your mind instantly replayed this morning’s conversation and you found yourself dizzy.
“Are you okay? Is it cuz you guys didn’t get any points today?” Lily tries to console you.
“No, it’s not that.” You give her a fake smile. “This whole weekend has been kind of too much for me and I think I’m starting to feel the effects. I’m gonna go to the trailers but I’ll see y’all at the party later?”
“Feel better love! Wear something slutty!” Alexandria yells as you walk off.
The pink dress you had picked out for tonight was beginning to annoy you. It was incredibly short so you didn’t know if you should pull it up or down. And knowing Franco would be there made you overthink your idea not wanting to give him the impression that you had dressed up for him. You internally roll your eyes at yourself for even thinking about changing clothes because of a man. That wasn’t you. The effects of the rookie began to scare you.
You don’t waste anymore time heading out the suite and straight to your Uber. It was a short drive and the bouncer didn’t last long finding your name on the list. Lily and Alexandria immediately started screaming at the sight of you and welcomed you into the round table. Most of the drivers were still at the track recovering from their race so thankfully you sat next to Lily with no one to your right. You hoped Alex would hurry up so you’d get to gossip with your friend.
“That rookie ended up with points. I think your hate fueled him.” Lily teases you.
“Are we really going to talk about him, right now?” You sigh.
“He proved you wrong of course we’re gonna talk about it.” She says
“It was pure luck.” You spit out unaware of the brunette walking towards your table.
“What was?” The familiar voice makes you shiver. Lily can’t help but laugh as how wide your eyes go. You slowly turn around to meet the guy that had been torturing you this whole weekend.
“Oh, nothing-” Lily tries to save you.
“Your race today. It was pure luck.” You say defiantly being too stubborn to retract your words.
“Pure luck?” He repeats in disbelief.
“She didn’t mean it-” Lily tries to come to your rescue again.
“Oh, no. I meant it. He’ll be ending up P12 in the next races. I guarantee you won’t see anymore points after this. You’re just here on a test drive and then? Every one will forget you were ever here.” You take a swig of your drink. You don’t even register the malice behind your words being too heated to even comprehend what you’re saying.
His face heats up and his cheeks change hues as he registers your words. You blink and he’s gone. He wanders off to who knows where and it’s then that you register what you’ve told him. You warm up and suddenly you’re dizzy.
“What the fuck?” Lily whispers. “You better go find him and apologize.”
“He started it!” You whine.
“No, you did. You’ve hated him since he arrived when he’s done nothing to you.” Her words make you feel bad. “Now, go find him.”
You stand up adjusting your dress as you scan around the club looking for him. You wander off in hopes of finding him before he leaves. Why was it so hard to find a tall brunette in a crowd of average height people? You give up after five minutes resorting to asking the bartender if he’d seen your ‘friend’ and suddenly you found yourself outside. Franco is leaning against the wall looking at his phone but he’s wearing glasses now.
“I didn’t know you wore glasses.” You squeak afraid that you’d scare him off.
He looks up at you not saying a single word. Your presence pisses him off and he starts to walk away. You follow him to the back of the bar stopping him before the two of you got lost.
“Look, I didn’t mean anything I said. I’m sorry.” You play with the hem of your dress being too afraid to look at him.
“Did he fuck you good?” His face is stern.
“W-what?” His words catch you off guard. The temperature around you somehow getting warmer.
“Logan. Did he fuck you good?” He asks again with a meaner tone. “That’s why you’re mad at me, right?”
What you and Logan did behind closed doors was private, something no one else knew. Something you thought the two of you had managed to keep in secrets. Your cheeks flare up at Franco’s discovery. Were you really so bad at hiding your secrets? If he knew then who else did? You were fucked.
“Franco you don’t know what you’re talking about.” You try so hard to lie. His smirk makes it known that he doesn’t believe you.
One minute you’re lying to his face and the other he’s right in front of you eyeing you down. You can practically feel his body warmth as he invaded your personal space. He had one upped you, again. The innocent facade he had in front of your friends was completely gone.
“Ay, que linda que sos.” His thumb traces your cheek. The touch lingers, your cheeks heating up at the contact. “You’re such a terrible liar.”
“There’s something seriously wrong with you, you know that?” You barely say above a whisper.
“No, there’s something wrong with us.” His hand travels down your cheek to your neck.
That last word throws you off because it’s true, the indescribable pull you felt to him was insane, the two of you were insane. You were tired. You were tired of hiding secrets, Franco’s personality, but most importantly you were tired of pretending. Pretending that you didn’t want Franco. So, you do what you do best when you’re tired. You relieve yourself. You pull Franco by the shirt and kiss him ignoring the feel of his glasses hitting your face. He quickly turns the two of you around your back hitting the wall allowing for balance.
The two of you barely pull apart for air losing yourselves in the kisses. His brunette curls find their way into your fingers while his hands sit perfectly on your waist. The kiss grows heated as you pull him closer to you, feeling him. His hand begins to wander down your thighs, pulling them apart and wrapping your leg around his waist. You can feel yourself grow wetter at the new position and then you remember that your friends were still waiting for you.
“Franco, wait.” You groan.
“What? What happened?” He pulls away quickly.
“Everyone else is still waiting for us. You need to be
” You pause debating if this was really a good idea but had anything you’d done lately been a good idea? “Quick.”
He takes that as a challenge immediately pulling you in for a kiss again. The kiss is messy and needy with your hands in his hair and his hands massaging the inside of your thighs. The cool breeze hitting your exposed skin as he lifted your dress up. The roughness of the wall is soon forgotten as he brings his fingers down to your thighs, gliding them teasingly before placing them on your clothed core.
You can’t resist the groans that escape your throat as his cold fingers come in contact with your core. It’d been many weekends since anyone had touched you like this. He swallows your noises with his mouth as he kisses you. Your hands grip his arms as he begins to move his fingers around your folds, spreading your wetness. You remember that it’s been a while since the two of you walked outside and pull his fingers away.
“Franco. We don’t have time.” You gasp in between kisses.
He picks you up adjusting you against the wall while you dig your hands into the hem of his boxers. It doesn’t take long for your hands to venture down and feel him. Your stomach flutters at his size and how he feels. He quickly pulls you away before placing his tip near your entrance. Your morals long gone you grind on him wanting to feel anything. It’s pathetic the way you’ve gone from wanting him out of the sport to wanting him inside you and he notices it too by the way he smirks at you.
You’re about to lash out when he starts entering you slowly. If it wasn’t for him holding you then you’d have lost your balance already at the intrusion. He stills himself waiting for you to adjust to the new feeling. When he notices that you’re ready he pulls out before thrusting back into you, this time filling you to the hilt. It was almost as if he fit perfectly inside you.
“Fuck.” He groans as he fills you completely.
You’re not quite sure anyone’s ever felt so disgusting. You don’t even try to contain your moans as he continuously thrusts into you at a fervent pace. He feels so good inside you hitting spots no one else had before. His fingers leave mark on your hips as you take him fully. He looks down to where the two of you are connected and audibly groans at how well you’re taking him.
“Oh my god.” You whine as he increases his speed.
His hands come back done to your folds rubbing them in circles as he tries to pleasure you even more. Your hand joins his showing him where you need him the most. You can feel your slick coating his dick as he rubbed you. You begin to feel a familiar knot in your stomach as he fucks you into the wall. His hand cups your jaw as he pulls you into a long sloppy kiss.
It doesn’t take long after for you to come undone around him, your walls squeezing him as you reach your peak. He won’t last long with the feeling of you milking him. Soon enough he’s coming inside you, his warm cum filling you up. The sight of the two of you is disgusting and nasty.
The two of you break away from each other and catch your breaths. You lower your dress back down while Franco takes his glasses off to clean them. You check yourself for any runny mascara, or smudge lipstick, and even run your hands through your hair making sure you don’t look insane.
“We should head inside.” You murmur.
“We’re not gonna talk about this?” He scoffs.
“There’s nothing to talk about Franco. At least not know when everyone’s waiting for us.” You scold him. “We’ll talk next weekend.”
You head towards the bathroom first, Franco surprisingly waiting for you outside. The two of you walk in within a minute difference a smile adorning both your faces. At least until you spot Pierre next to Lily and you’re brought back to reality. You don’t waste time running towards the frenchman hugging him as you sit right next to him. Franco can’t help but stare at you in confusion as he notices Pierre’s hand trail too far down when hugging you. But then he spots it. Pierre wearing an identical necklace to yours but instead of a P it adorned your initial. His eyes go wide.
“I see you and my girlfriend have finally made up.” Pierre greets him.
“Your girlfriend?” His demeanor changes with the news. “I didn’t know.”
Pierre begins to explain how the two of you don’t like to be very public about your relationship. You can visibly see the moment in which Franco’s face goes pale. The next few weeks for you are hard racing between the Alpine garage and your girlfriends. Not to mention the quick pit stops to the Williams garage to wish Alex good luck. It’s a shame you get very little time with the rookie but he makes it work. In the end you really hope he doesn’t get a seat for next year, you can’t keep doing this.
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monstersflashlight · 3 months ago
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Commission for anon!
Request: Hi! I'd love a ftm reader x multiple monsters/cryptids (dealers choice) where he's a party favor. Love the whole play thing dynamic with free use and impact play (very big fan of pussy slapping). Would love to see how creative you get with it. Same rules as a private play party where everyone knows each other and everything was pre-agreed upon and he's the hosts submissive. I adore your works!
A/N: Hi there! This was very fun to write, hope you like it!
Best. Night. Ever.
Multiple monsters (naga, werewolf, alien and mothman) x trans masc!reader || free use, impact play, sharing is caring, bondage, dirty talk (lowkey), spit-roasting
When your naga friend asked you to be one of the entertainments of the party he was hosting for his Cryptid Club, you were a bit unsure, but after he told you what you were supposed to do, you were completely sold on the idea. Since your transition, you were a bit of a slut, trying everything and anything you could, and this opportunity was priceless to try some... supernatural fun.
You arrived at the time your friend asked you to, but you were surprised when he instantly got to you with a concerned expression. “Hey dude look, I know I told you there was gonna be a few more entertainments, but
 they didn’t show. Do you mind being the only one?” You were confused at his words, not really sure what that would mean for you, but also really worried you were going to let your friend down.
“What would that entitle?” You asked, trying to sound reasonable. You were ready to fuck some monsters, nothing to worry there.
“Well
 Now you’d be the only one getting fucked, so it can be a lot,” he explained, sounded worried again. He kept biting his lip as his long tail thrashed nervously behind him.
Oh right, human body against a few monster’s dicks. Yeah, could definitely be a lot, but you
 kind of liked the idea. All those monsters, all those dicks
 just for you? You were almost ready to fall to your knees and offer yourself right there.
“I- I’m okay with it,” you answered, choking on your own saliva when the neediness appeared. You were so wet you could feel the wetness rubbing your thighs.
“You are the best, have I told you that?” He asked, leaning down to kiss your cheek loudly, a hit of saliva that he knew drove you insane but always made you giggle.
“Yes, you have.” You gave him an equally loud smack in his scale-covered face. “So
 where do I go?” You looked around, trying to decipher something, but his house looked as normal as ever.
He walked you through everything. He told you more or less how many monsters there would be, half a dozen, but said not everybody would actively participate with you. You were okay with that. You had to be restrained, as part of the sacrifice-to-the-monsters theme, and they could do whatever they wanted with you (within reason), which you were very okay with.
He helped you out of your clothes, groping you every once in a while, kissing your chest scars like he always did when you fooled around, he had a bit of a fixation with your chest. He tied you over a table, legs far apart and arms over your head, presenting yourself like an offering. He kissed your temple and covered you with a silk sheet, telling you the guests would be there in a minute.
The moments of wait were excruciatingly hard, you weren’t one to be quiet or still for long periods of time, and being tied up, ready to be fucked and listening to all voices around
 It was driving you insane with excitement and anticipation, your cunt so wet you could feel your juices dripping down your crack.
Someone clapped, and silence fell down upon all. “Hello friends, welcome to my party. I present you our lovely hole-in-one for the night.” There was a chorus of ah’s and oh’s as he pulled the sheet off your body. You felt like the most desired being in the whole universe, all anxiety dissipating in a cloud of desire and heat. “Look at that pretty cunt, all ready for us to play with
 who wants to do the honors?” The naga host asked everyone, you shivered, your whole body trembling with anticipation.
You looked around, watching mesmerized all the monsters in the room. There was a magnificent white werewolf, a green alien with fingers so long you could already imagine where those would go, and even a mothman whose antennae were twitching every time he moved. You were more than ready to be ravished.
Some approached, the werewolf chuckling when you groaned at the sight of his huge dick. “Don’t worry darling, I won’t knot you. Not today, at least.” You blushed at the innuendo and looked at him with pleading eyes. “But I called dibs, so I hope you are prepared.” That’s all the heads up he gave you before his big tip was breaching your cunt, you were drenched already, and he slipped inside as you groaned loudly.
He smirked at you, grabbing your hips and going further and further, to the point it was almost painful, but he didn’t care. And you didn’t either, he felt magnificent inside of you. And when he bottomed out, he didn’t even wait two seconds before he was fucking you mercilessly. You could feel the base of his knot hitting your clit at every thrust, your mouth hanging open as your naga friend approached, pinching your nipples until they felt raw and you were about to explode.
“I like your present to us, friend, you did good,” the alien said as he rubbed his dick along your face, slapping your check with it. You tried to catch it in your mouth, but the werewolf fucking you didn’t let you, slapping the outside of your thigh and making you scream. Everyone looked at you at once, and you blushed.
“Such a needy slutty toy,” this time it was the mothman complimenting you, his dick already out of his cock-pocket.
He was rapidly jerking his dick next to your face, which was average size but had ridges and some sort of protrusion at the end that you know would feel phenomenal inside of you. You almost begged him to fuck your cunt instead of your mouth, but you remembered you were just a toy, you had no say on which hole he fucked.
You dutifully opened your mouth and he praised you. “Such a good boy-toy, aren’t you?” Someone else laughed behind him, you could see a shadow of green, probably the alien, but you couldn’t think much about it before your hair was roughly pulled and he started fucking your mouth with intent. You gagged, and he chuckled. “He’s so needy, won’t stop gagging trying to get more of me,” the mothman over you was almost cooing at your messy self, drool going everywhere as you indeed gagged on his dick. Your head was pushed back, his balls hitting your nose as you tried to go further and he pinched your nipples, making you groan around his cock.
Whoever was fucking your cunt, you thought he was the werewolf you saw earlier, responded: “You have to try his cunt later, bro, he’s squeezing me so tight I think I’m going to spill any second.” He pumped a few more times and spilled inside of you, adding to the mess you were already and making you groan indecently around the cock in your mouth.
He pulled back and somebody replaced him, a new cock pressing against your gaping hole, but when you thought you were going to get fucked again, you heard your naga friend saying: “Don’t be shy, slap his cunt, he loves it.” You gagged, trying to pull away from the cock, already anticipating what was going to happen. But the mothman didn’t relent, he pushed further as whoever was on your lower half did exactly that.
Slap.
Your eyes rolled back into your head, your back arched impossibly high as you came. You came so hard and so forcibly that you squeezed the muscles in your throat, making the mothman pull back as he released, painting your face with his sweet come. You kept coming as he rubbed the tip of his cock over your open lips, your brain was so far away that you couldn’t care less.
“Does he always react like that?” The alien asked, jerking himself next to you, his hand already approaching your dripping hole.
“Every single time, he’s a slut with a pretty hole,” your friend responded. You blushed hard, knowing full well that he was right. The alien didn’t think twice before slapping your pussy again, making you cry out so loud that everyone around laughed. You were so sensitive, and it felt so great

“Please
” Is all you could say before someone else’s dick was inside of you and you were being pounded into oblivion, a new cock being rubbed over your messy face as someone pinched your clit almost painfully. Not two second later you had a naga dick (the big one of the two) buried inside your cunt and the alien’s cock in your mouth. You were used like a monster’s fleshlight, and you couldn’t feel better.
“Slap him again, I want to feel his cunt squeezing me.” He did, and you saw stars. The milky way. The whole fucking universe.
One after another multiple cryptids fucked and probed and groped and played with your body like you were just a toy for their enjoyment. And you were. You wanted to be. And it felt fantastic. Better than fantastic, it felt perfect to be played with by a bunch of monsters.
You ended the night covered in fluids. You didn’t even know how many monsters came in you, over you
 You only knew pleasure and desire and complete bliss. You were sated to the point of dizziness, and when everyone left between compliments to the host and you, your naga friend carried you into the shower and cleaned you sweetly. Always the gentleman. Before you fell asleep, his tail nested around your body, you could only have one thought:
Best. Night. Ever.
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bitchimasnake-sss · 19 days ago
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I need a part 2 to ‘meddle aboutâ€™đŸ˜© I loveee your writing
i was literally about to go sleep rn but made a conscious decision to ignore the needs of my body to write horny filth <3
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☆ into you!
part 02 to meddle about! // in which the younger itoshi loses all inhibitions. //
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synopsis: who knew being involved with itoshi rin would be such a headache? now, about 10,000 km away from home, you realize that you're stuck with him in barcelona. as distances between you two grow greater, the only thing that brings you closer is an... aphrodisiac?! pairing: afab!reader x itoshi rin [aged up.] wc: 5.5k cw: NOT PROOFREAD. WRITTEN CAUSE I LOVE DESPERATE MEN. MDNI. includes: A LOTTT OF PLOTTT!! dom-ish!reader x bottom!rin. one-room only trope (hehehehehhe), aphrodisiac, guided handjob, praise (m!receiving), overstimulation (m!receiving), rin cries so, i guess dacryphilia(?). they're both gonna piss you off and you're gonna love it. guess starring: rin's COMMUNICATION ISSUES đŸ—ŁïžđŸ”Š m.list
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it took you exactly 45 mins sitting next to rin itoshi in a closed-off airplane to decide that either he was the dumbest man alive or he needed a guided lesson to understand social cues. or maybe, just maybe, he was such an entitled prick that he could just simply ignore a fuming woman next to him for forty-five minutes straight without as much as a worry-line on his pristine forehead.
you had huffed and huffed, and then huffed some more by the time rin finally asked you a question. the question? "are you cold or something?"
"no?" your eyebrows bunched at his question. could he not see the blanket you had draped over your lap as you had cozied in the seat he had paid for?
"then why are you making so much noise?"
"oh?" you scoffed, "if it is this hard to be seated next to me, then please get off on the next layover and catch a flight back home."
his answer came before you could even finish, "no, i'm good."
and then again, the cycle of silence repeated itself by dragging itself along it's sickening pattern. rin flipped through a magazine, locked in as if there was nothing more enticing to him than the history of airplanes and their mechanism, all while you fumed in your seat.
it's not like you wanted to talk to rin itoshi or something!
it's just the principle of the situation that pissed you off beyond belief! here you two were, sitting next to each-other in a metal contraception that was hovering several hundred feet above ground to land you in another continent — a process that was going to take several hours. there was absolute silence — most people dozing off, reading or watching a movie by themselves while enjoying the finer things in life like champagne and caviar.
if there was any place in earth to sort out miscommunications, then this was probably the top of that list! and yet, that raven-haired man lost himself in the world of airplane mechanics. like, what even?!
again, it's not like you wanted rin itoshi to apologize to you or something!
it's just shouldn't he atleast bother after trying so hard that day? i mean, it's not like you missed the way his hands felt or the expensive, well-curated fragrance of his car whenever he picked you up or dropped you, or whatever lopsided, half-baked smile he gave you every once in a while. no, it was the principle of the situation that was bothering you!
you sighed and rin gave you a side-eye without even turning an inch to face you. he cleared his throat, another question at the tip of his stupid — albeit, very skilled — tongue, "do you want to drink?"
"no." you spit out, almost impressed at how good he was at being wrong, "obviously not." actually, right now, with a headache next to you, some wine sounded delightful. "actually— i mean, wine sounds nice."
rin pushed the button to call the airstaff and you let go of any of your restraints. you turned towards him, body leaning into his physical space as if you needed to examine him up-close for brain damage, "do you really not know what's bothering me?"
"no." rin admitted seriously and your eyebrows furrowed at how sincere he sounded. you repeated, "you don't?"
he shrugged and you found yourself muttering, "seriously? you don't?"
"no," he turned his face to look at you and deadpanned, "either tell me what's wrong or shut up and go to sleep."
the audacity! here you were trying to communicate with him while he thought you should 'go to sleep'??? he should go to hell!
"fine." you clenched you jaw, turning around to wait for your wine in peace. under your breath, you muttered, "sae would probably never act like this."
"what was that?"
you turned to the pro-player, eyes narrowed and tongue venomous, "i cannot wait to see sae play in real life."
"thanks to me, yes." rin shrugged, "and his play isn't that impressive. the media just happens to make any lukewarm bullshit look good on tele."
"th-thanks to you?!" you spluttered, still not moving on from the first half of his statement, "i'm sorry but did i not refuse to come and you begged me—"
"—beg is a strong word."
"you begged me to come, rin itoshi." you bit back and rin turned to you with his own eyes narrowed, "i didn't beg you, i just didn't want you to think i took advantage of you."
"you literally, literally left me laying on the couch while you ran off to the bathroom for god-knows-what reasons!" you ranted, leaning in till your noses were inches apart and you two were all up in each other's business, "and then, next morning you left me all alone in your stupid penthouse—"
"i left you a text and food?" now it was rin's turn to act confuse. he inched forward daringly and the tips of your noses collided. eyes against yours in a heated dance, he hissed, "and i drew you a bath which you never even took."
"hah?" you scoffed, not pulling back lest he thinks he has won the competition against you, "that explains leaving me after we were done?"
"i rushed to the bathroom bec—" and then for the first time in his adult life, rin itoshi froze. because, tell me, how in god's name was he supposed to admit that just one look at your flushed, post-orgasm face had him spilling into his sweats as if puberty had hit him yesterday? just one split-second look away from your pretty pussy to your ruined face was enough for his to lose all physical restraint over his well-trained body? how could he let you see that, or even hear about it? it was embarrassing. worse, it was ego-threatening.
how was rin itoshi supposed to admit that he couldn't help but feel all types of things whenever you were around?
so, instead, he bit his tongue and made up an excuse — a bad one, but an excuse nonetheless, "i rushed because i remembered something."
"in the bathroom?" you repeated slowly and he nodded, hoping that the warmth of his cheeks wasn't on display.
"i— remembered that i needed to take a shower."
"immediately afterwards?"
"yes, sweat makes me feel gross." he nodded again, averting his gaze from you, "it's just one of those things."
"oh my god, you're such a fucking prick!" now, maybe those aren't the words you should be saying to the man who was paying for your flight to see your favourite player but he did just admit that he left you alone to take a stupid shower.
you two were only interrupted by the air-hostess bringing you a much-needed glass of wine. for the next nine hours till your next layover, you didn't even bother glancing at rin itoshi's stupid face.
but as you sat in silence, you realized that the upcoming days were going to be nice, atleast. you had planned an entire cozy itinerary without rin itoshi to meddle in your business, infact. the plan was simple: were going to land the next evening, and would probably stay-in that night to recover from the jet lag. the next morning you planned to visit some local areas, cafes, and such. and the third day was sae's match. then, you'd catch the flight home! fun!
so, you took in a deep breath, reminding yourself that it was only a matter of hours before you could get rid of rin. until then, all you had to do was ignore him. correct!
it was only after you had landed in barcelona that you interacted with rin — not too much though, only to thank him for the tickets and to avail you a taxi since he claimed he knew enough spanish to get around.
"what?" the pro-player cocked an eyebrow, dialing some number on his phone, "we're going to the hotel together, why do you need another taxi?"
"you paid for my hotel room?" your eyes widened, your grip on reality seemingly slipping as you realized that rin itoshi probably wouldn't book some cheap, 3rd-class hotel.
"yes?" he answered just as nonchalantly before answering the phone and sprouting out some spanish.
and there go your cozy vacation plans down the drain!
"you—" you were tongue-tied, so catastrophically shocked that you weren't even sure of what was happening and what wasn't, "why would you do that?!"
"well?" rin covered his phone half-heartedly, looking at you as if you were the one who had gone mad, "did you think i would just bring you here and leave you as it is?"
you stepped closer to him, voice hushed so as to not cause a scene at the airport, "i don't need more favours that you. i told you that."
"don't worry." rin muted the call with a quick swipe, "i am not gonna ask for any favours in return. this one's on me..." you almost missed the next few words, "cause i've been a prick lately."
you're not quite sure how it happened or why, but here you stood at the reception of a seven-star hotel while rin held a heated discussion with the staff in a foreign language.
many minutes passed by, following which the pro-player finally came walking back to you. his face fell, "they're saying they only have one room free."
"what?"
"i swear i booked two. i'm not playing around with you." you heard a mild panic in his otherwise cool tone and you held a palm up, "it's good — a sign from the universe! i should probably go, anyways. i'll find an accommadati—"
"no." rin was fierce. his face dipped lower, hot breath fanning across your face as he repeated, "you're not doing anything stupid like that. if anyone has to go, i will. you stay here."
"rin." you tried to argue but the receptionist called rin back for some reason. the next time rin came back to you, he was sickeningly pale.
"what did they say? someone has to go, right. i will—"
"—uh," the man looked at the polished marble underneath, his lower lashes so prominent as he closed his eyes, "they actually, kinda upgraded us to a honeymoon suite."
huh? honestly, this wasn't the weirdest thing that had happened to you this month. what's next? you're gonna go to the room and find a stack of condoms and a invitation for you two to fuc—
"—k me." you spoke aloud as soon as you entered the room. not only was it thrice the size of your studio apartment, and had a private pool in the balcony, but on the bed lay a stack of condoms, chocolates, cliche rose petals and an classy envelope with MR. AND MRS. ITOSHI printed on it.
rin picked the card up, opened it up and immediately went beet-red. you wouldn't be surprised if the card read "have a good time fucking!"
"i- i'll take the couch." rin stuffed the card deep into the pocket of his pants, ignoring the climbing warmth that painted his pale face uncharacteristically scarlet, "you take the bed."
"don't be ridiculous. i'm not taking the bed."
"there's no point arguing." he averted his gaze skillfully, hoping that the pink dusting his cheeks was not visible to you, "i... i'll take the couch. meanwhile, you can go wash up."
well, to be fair even the couches here looked better than your home couch but again, it was about the principle of the situation!
barcelona, day 01. evening.
truly, there was no point arguing with the rin itoshi because now, here you were ten minutes later, clearing the bed and throwing the chocolates and flavoured condoms in the side-drawer, never to be used by you two.
once done, you laid your clothes out and made your way to the shower. your footsteps were soft pitter-patters against the delicate rug and rin glanced back from the couch.
"shower?" he asked, and you nodded. at your curt answer, he pressed his lips into a thin line, "if you need something, call my name. i'll come."
you had slipped in the bathroom with nothing more than a soft nod to acknowledge him because... let's be real, why would you need him while showering? he could rest assured that there would no shenanigans happening on your end.
but now as the soft, luxurious soapsuds lapped against your skin so gently, the warm water of the tub slowly growing cold and leaving you devoid of any warmth in it's wake, you considered calling rin in.
closing your eyes, a dark, familiar curtain fell in front of your eyes and you tipped your head upwards. chewing on your bottom lip, you were divided whether the deal you and rin had once struck up still stood? and in that case, did you owe him something since he was responsible for your accommodation for the next three days here. but then again, he did act like a prick and maybe it was his way of making it up to you. but then again, he didn't act as much of a prick to repent by keeping you in a fucking seven-star residence.
you brought your hands over your face, the skin growing colder ever so slowly under the cruel stretch of time you were subjecting yourself to. then, some sort of peace washed over you. you dragged your hands down your skin, looking at the wooden door to the bathroom.
something clicked.
maybe, maybe this decision wasn't for you to take? maybe rin itoshi was the one who was supposed to decide if he wanted you or not?
"rin!" you called out, finally.
the doorknob turned almost immediately and you half-heartedly wondered if he had been standing at the edge, waiting for the echo of his name past your lips. of course not. but it was fun to imagine that rin itoshi wanted you so desperately.
on the other side, rin had been standing at the doorstep, listening to the soft cascades and waves of water as you took your sweet time in there. okay, maybe it was a bit pathetic for a pro-player like him to stand at the edge of a door waiting to be summoned but it's not like you'd ever know, right? right?
but as soon as he heard the shout of his name, his fingers found the cold metal and he stepped inside — and there you were. you had drawn up a flimsy towel to cover up your soaking body, soapsuds still clinging helplessly onto your legs as you stood at the edge of the humongous bathtub.
"ye-yeah?" rin commanded his attention to focus on the bathtub and not you. because if he looked at your soaked skin and hair, your perked buds against the soft fabric of the towel and the slightly rosy tint of your cheeks — rin was convinced he would either go insane from the idea or never having you again or do something that'll break the promise of being strangers.
"i, uh—" your gaze ran it's course from him to the vacant bathtub. a lone sweat droplet traveled down the ridge of your spine and you blamed the hotness of the enclosed bathroom for it. voice unsure, you asked, "i wanted to heat the water up. it got cold, so..."
"uhm," rin swallowed, brushing past you to look at the array of smaller buttons at the edge of the bathtub.
"this one." he pointed to a button which had hot written on it. "just press it till the temperature is to your liking."
"oh?" you leaned in, staring at the button next to him, "right." a nervous laugh rang out in that closed, hot room, "i don-don't know how in the world did i miss that."
rin turned around, avoiding to look at you, "s'okay."
you were so close that he could smell the fragrance of the expensive bath gel on your skin. the smell went straight to his head, intoxicating him and making him stutter in his usually confident demeanor. he wondered if he reached out and played with the wet strands of your hair, will you push his hand back or slap him?
but rin itoshi wasn't looking for the answer to that question, so he just asked, "anything else?"
you shook your head with a soft no.
"okay, then." rin took hurried step towards the door, never once looking back to you, "and hurry up, i- uh, i gotta wash up too."
"o-okay?"
he shut the door behind him with a surprisingly loud thud! and now, you stood in the previously occupied bathroom with a confirmed answer: rin itoshi did not want you. like... at all.
that's what his cold demeanor had told you, atleast. he had not even bothered to give you a look that lasted more than a spilt-second and then promptly left as soon as he felt it fitting. you sunk back into the cold water, half-annoyed at yourself for calling him and half-annoyed at him for being so fucking closed-off.
for the rest of the day, you both had minimal contact. he didn't bother you with questions, and you didn't annoy him with answers. rin was busy on his laptop, attending team meetings and answering sponsors about his sudden getaway to spain while you just sat on the bed, doomscrolling the rest of the evening away. somehow, within your silences, you both had found a comfortable pattern to just be.
that was until dinner.
"you're not going to bed?" you tried to ask, patting the pillows to fluff them up to your liking.
"no," rin didn't bother looking back from where he sat on the couch. a glass of wine pinched between his fingers, a monotonous expression on his pretty face, "i have some work to finish up. are you? going to sleep... i mean?"
"yeah." you nodded and a silence fell across the room. within the thick fog of silence, you could almost tell apart the strumming of your own heart. moments turned eternal and you held your bated breath for some kind of acknowledgement from him. when none came, you spoke up again, "are you sure you'd be okay on the couch?"
"mhm. don't worry."
"okay then," you pursed your lips, laying down on the godawfully soft mattress, "see you tomorrow... goodnight."
"g'night." he finally breathed out and you're not quite sure when exactly you fell asleep on the silken sheets, but you were awoken by the sound of someone showering once the sky was bright and clear.
barcelona, day 02.
rin didn't say anything to you as he walked out of the shower with his hair wet, nor did you say anything to him as you got ready for a day of tourist activities. he told you he was gonna stay in, said he had sponsor meetings and you bid him goodbye as you went out to see the place around. the day passed by in a blur of tourist activities and kind strangers, away from rin itoshi.
when you came back, he didn't ask you formal questions about how your day was, and you didn't tell him polite answers. you two stayed stuck in your cycle of silence. that was all.
that was all until it was far too late into the night, at least.
you stepped out of the shower, far gone to care about his presence in the room. it was clear that he held no desire for you, so you waltzing out of steaming shower with nothing but a robe was probably child's play to him.
hair wet, face flushed, you found your gaze drifting to the couch only to notice the absence of rin. eyebrows marrying, your gaze scanned the entire room carefully — from the empty couch to the dark balcony to finally, the least probable place: your bed.
and surprisingly, that's where you found him; face flushed, palms sweaty and limbs shaking as he met your eyes. what?
"rin?" instinct took ahold of you, steps rushing to reach the man who looked clearly unwell. you brought a steady palm up to his forehead, checking his temperature. your eyes locked against his dilated ones, words shivering under the intensity, "d-did something happen?"
"i—" rin almost gasped as you put your palm on his neck next to check for the temperature. voice growing gruff, he looked away, "'m fine. i jus' kinda feel— i feel weird."
"weird?" your brows bunched as you trailed a soft palm up to his cheek, and rin shivered under you. "weird how?"
"i dunno." his voice seemed to turn hoarser, as if it had gotten harder to speak with each wayward touch you planted across his scorching skin, "i- i ate their stupid chocolates and—"
"—what?"
"the ones you put in the..." he pointed to the side-table, "there."
you rushed to the side-table, clumsy fingers pulling out the heart-shaped chocolates only to turn them around to read if they said something. and oh boy, was there something they said. aphro—
"—odisiac." you breathed out the word, shaky vision travelling back to the pro-player who seemed to grow tenser and tenser with each passing second.
"rin," you called out carefully, taking a step towards him, "how many of these did you have?"
"th-ree, no, four."
"seriously?!" your voice squeaked, body turning towards him fully to take notice of the sweat beading at his forehead, the sheen plastered across the bridge of his nose and the apples of his cheek, his labored breathing.
he pulled at the collar of his t-shirt, trying desperately to dissipate the heat that his body seemed to torture him with "i feel hot, and—" rubbing his palms down against his sweats, he looked up at you, utterly helpless. "—what's happening to me? i- don't—"
"it's okay, it's okay." you cut him off, "take off your shirt."
rin followed your command blindly. nimble fingers pinched the ends of his t-shirt only to pull it off himself as fast as he could. underneath the material, his chest was flushed red to match his face.
"d-does it feel any better?" and rin groaned at your stupid question, "no."
the man shifted his pelvis, trying to pull at the waistband of his sweats when your gaze finally traveled to the tent in his pants. he looked pained, eyes frenzied and breath stuttering as he tried to figure out a position where his aching dick didn't drive him insane.
you stepped closer, and closer, and closer till you were standing a mere inches away from him. a finger under his sharp jaw, you pulled his face upwards to meet yours. a slow breath, "rin."
and he almost whimpered at the way you held him still, "y-yeah?"
"let me help."
at his feverish nods, you sunk to your knees. practiced hands tugged at his waistband and he complied all-too-excitedly to lift his hips up and free his cock of this endless torture.
his muscles visibly relaxed at your slow breathing against his heated tip — reddened, it oozed pre out that cascaded down his shaft. rin threw his head back, wet hair sticking to his nape as you placed a carefully calculated kiss to the tip. your tongue carefully pressed against his slit as you sucked on the tip and rin all but combusted.
"a-ah," his deep voice pitched up, hips squirming as you toyed with him, "fuck, fuck fuuhck—"
your hand pulled his towards his cock and he looked down at you, confused, "what..?"
your eyes stayed locked against him as you placed his own hand on the bottom half of his erection, hollowed cheeks still sucking on the tip. your hand encompassing his own, you guided him to slowly stroke himself as you kept toying with his flushed tip.
"fuck-ing god." rin breathed and for once, he didn't avert his gaze from you. your heated hold over his hand prompted him to pump himself faster. and although, his own touch was familiar, the way you looked up at him — all doe-eyes and sinful kisses — made his thighs shake.
"god—" his voice choked, head thrown back and eyes clenching shut in an effort to not cry at the way your tongue played against his silt, how your hand squeezed his, urging him, begging him to go on.
you let go of his tip only to pull his face downwards to look at you, "look at me. stop fuckin' running away."
and this time, a whimper did escape him at your words. lips wobbling, eyebrows bunched and lashline heavy with unresolved tears — rin itoshi was fuckin' beautiful as he stared down at you.
you pressed another kiss to the tip and his hand sped up under your command until— splash! his toes curled, body leaning back as his voice shook with desperate moans, and thick, white ribbons of cum painted his hand and your lips in a wretched pearlish glow.
rin huffed, eyes blown wide at the view of his essence on your lips and the way you seemed to pursue his taste with your tongue— cleaning him up so carefully that it made him hard all over again. shit.
a sudden strong hold on your arms pulled you upto him and his jittery fingers pulled at the belt of your robe to have you all to himself. as he tried to undo the knot with his shaky fingers, you raked a hand through his wet hair, travelling backwards till your palm was cradling the back of his head ever-so-softly.
and then, you pulled at the base of his strands and rin whined in response. the lewd sounds accompanied the driveling of his hips into the cold air, and with each strained rut, more of his cum oozed down his abused cock.
"fuck, rin." it was your turn to whimper, now. eyes blown and face heated, you looked between the man and his erect, throbbing, filthy cock. who knew rin itoshi could be so fucking messy?
eyes clenched, lips agape and breath stolen — rin itoshi was rendered useless and you pushed him backwards into the bed before disrobing yourself.
your naked body climbing over his, you pumped his overstimulated cock with a languid pace, using his own essence as a lubricant for his own undoing.
"fuck." his eyes stayed clenched, forehead drawn into lines as his body responded to each one of your endlessly torturous acts. he gasped as you kissed his neck, his jawline and then, his shoulder.
"you're doin' so well, rin." your voice was soft against his heated skin, and you kissed his jaw again, sucking slow enough for him to lose his mind. then, you repeated, "so fucking well."
and that seemed to be rin itoshi's kryptonite.
words pitched, moans obscene and muscles spasming under your touch, rin came again. and again, and again, and fucking again as you kept toying with him.
now, you're weren't sure if it were only a few minutes since he first came or hours, but as you tugged at his sensitive cock with the sensual drags of your palm, rin actually cried out.
"n-no more." more tears welled up in his eyes, cheeks so deeply flushed as he begged you, "p-please, i can't. i can't."
"you can, baby." you cooed, pressing your thighs together as his desperate pleas went straight to your throbbing cunt. ignoring your own swiveling desire, you pushed the man who once stood so tall to his limits.
"no, no." his hips jerked as you continued to drag your hands along his cock. teeth biting down into his bottom lips, tears fell down the plane of his face. clammy palms clenched and unclenched the silken sheets below as rin barely tried to stop his steady decline into deliriousness, "ple-please. i really can't."
"fine." you purred, hands coming to a slow halt against his heated erection, "i'll stop."
and just as you pulled your hands back to yourself, rin's wet eyes widened. despite his aching bones and jelly-like muscles, the man lunged forward to catch your wrist in his fingers.
"no," he breathed, eyes watering at the sudden lack of skin-on-skin contact. he repeated, this time with a bit of force in his voice, "no."
leaning forward, you caught his kissbitten lips against yours. cutting the kiss short, your words were soft against his, "you want it?"
and he nodded again, tongue rendered useless with how heavy it felt in his mouth. you drew a careful hand up his heated thighs, and he trembled under your touch, "say it out loud for me."
"yes." rin shook his head.
your lips trailed down to his jaw, featherlike kisses across his heated skin as your hand sped up yet again in that cruel, familiar pattern. his orgasm built like a crescendo, peaking higher and higher till he was shooting blanks.
when he was all spent out, rin itoshi shuddered and slumped against your arms. breath uneven, hair matted, skin sweaty, fiery and dusted pink as it made contact against your skin.
he looked up at you, half-lidded gaze still haunted by remnants of tears that clung onto his lashes. as if on instinct, you pressed a kiss to his forehead, soothing the searing skin under with your soft act. rin closed his eyes at the closeness, a gasp at the tip of his tongue because all of it felt so foreign.
he wasn't in control of his body — his trusty muscles felt lead-like, head hammering as if his brain would break-though his cranium, and heart thumping out a rhythm that sounded awfully like chants of your name. it was clear, rin itoshi didn't quite feel like himself as you cradled him so softly in your arms.
"you okay?" you asked far too softly, half worried that the wind will catch your words before it reached him. but to your surprise, rin nodded.
"i'll clean you up." you muttered, peripheral vision dragging along the sheets to see what a mess you two had made. his thighs and abs were painted white similarly to your hand, the fluid dripped down to the expensive sheets and stained them. you nodded with resolve, "rest up, i'll be done soon. yeah?"
a heavy croak stopped you. rin looked up at you, voice heavy and eyes watery as if one misstep and he would find himself losing control, "don't go."
maybe it was the finality in his voice that confused you, or the fact that he wanted you around. eitherways, you refuted with a soft shake of your head, "i- i really should, we've made a mes—"
"—don't go."
and so, you didn't. you let your body slump against the bedframe, scorched back against the cool wood and rin rested his cheek against your stomach, his arms pressed against your waist in an innocent hug. you raked your fingers through his sweaty hair before trailing them downwards to massage his nape and weary shoulders. his breath slowed down under your delicate touches and soon enough, he was asleep.
your hands stayed kneading at his muscles, gaze locked in at the man and the shallow rise and fall of his chest. with each soft inhale, the deep blush slowly eased away from his face, leaving behind the same stoic man you had known for a few weeks.
in this silence, you were starkly aware of two routes this relationship arrangement may go: 1) the most probable one: once the pro-player came to his senses, he will regret this — all that came before this, all that may come after this, you — and go no-contact. 2) the least probable one: he'd sit down and have a conversation with you, and then you both could figure out where things would go from here.
knowing rin itoshi though, you mentally prepared yourself for never seeing him again once this trip was over. it wouldn't be hard, obviously. how long did you even know the man? a few weeks, give or take. why would you mourn his presence when you never even quite had him?
you closed your eyes, fingers still softly playing with his tresses. you knew what was to come, knew that this was probably the end of him and you (or whatever it was between him and you), knew that him and you were just a series of favours for favours. and yet, your heart sank as you stared at his face for a moment too long.
rin itoshi was driving you insane!!
but however perceptive you may be, or however properly you think you knew rin — you miscalculated.
because neither did the man take the route of leaving you, nor did he talk things out with you. instead, here you were pinned against the wall in the supply closet. the supply closet of the very same stadium sae itoshi was playing at while rin stared down at you.
"a favour for a favour." he husked, "let me pay you back for last night."
rin itoshi was driving you insane.
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a/n: love how i make everything into a three-part series :/ anyways, hope this was a fun enough read. i love men who are so emotionally unwell that it is borderline hilarious. what does that say about me? idk, nor do i wanna find out :) tagging: @ionlyhearnct @mortallyshadysoul @mindfulsreposts @mikaru0 @slutforitoshi @keiitamaa @loonalockley @ouraniaslyre @froggie-zusya23 @levcn @mimi-in-heaven i hope this was satisfying <3
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moonstruckme · 1 month ago
Note
And since you're such an angel, I would love some:
snow angels with doctor!remus
Thank you and please hydrate 💧
Awee you're too sweet to me, thanks for requesting lovely <3
cw: blood (not a lot? if that helps), dizziness/lightheadedness
doctor!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 686 words
Remus cups your face in his hand, brows woven together in concern. “Did you eat lunch?” he asks you. 
“Yeah.” 
“What’d you have?” He swipes his thumb gently over your cheek before leaving you, going into the nearby bathroom. 
“A sandwich.” You sound a bit defensive, which isn’t strictly fair. You know you gave Remus a bit of a fright when he came home to find you lying on the rug between the living room and the kitchen, too scared to get up. It was perhaps a tad dramatic—you could’ve walked over to the couch if you’d really wanted to, you’re sure—but you didn’t see any point in pushing yourself when you felt so dizzy and shaky on your feet. Remus has taken it as more cause for alarm than you have. 
He comes back with a blood pressure monitor and a couple of other things, setting them on the kitchen table in front of you. “That sounds fine,” he murmurs, taking your arm to slide the cuff up it. You have the sensation of swaying in your seat, but you’re not sure if it’s really happening or only in your head. “And it’s been going on for how long?” 
“Since maybe two.” You lean sideways so your head rests on his chest. Remus’ free hand comes up to hold it there gently, pinkie stroking the baby hairs by your temple as the cuff inflates around your arm. 
“You should have called me, sweetheart.” 
“I was okay,” you tell him. “I didn’t really think I was gonna pass out or anything, I just thought it’d be safer to sit down.” 
Remus’ hum conveys some disapproval, but he doesn’t seem to think it’s worthwhile to continue arguing with you. The blood pressure monitor beeps, and he leans forward to read it. 
“Hm, that’s normal.” He takes the cuff off you with a satisfying ripping sound. You curl and flex your fingers against the odd feeling. 
Remus holds your head to his chest with his free hand while he leans forward, grabbing something else off the counter. He takes your hand, but you pull it from his grasp when you see what he’s holding, sitting up. 
“Remus,” you whine. 
He chuckles at your tone. “Dove, it’ll be quick.” 
You let him take your hand again, but don’t allow him to pull it near that clicker thing. “Is it going to hurt?” you worry. 
“No.” 
You make a low, petulant sound in the back of your throat. Ordinarily you might be embarrassed for it, but you’re feeling rather self-pitying right now and entitled to some sulking. “Really?” 
“Yes, love. Relax.” 
Still feeling mistrustful, you allow him to pull your hand closer. He pricks the pad of your finger. 
“Ow—Rem!” 
“It’s okay,” Remus shushes you. “All done.” 
“That hurt,” you complain, vindicated, as he collects the bead of blood on a reader. 
“I know,” he admits. “It does, a little. But only for a second, yeah?” 
You make your displeasure known through your silence. 
“Look.” Remus takes your finger, kissing the back. “It’s better now, see?” He brings your head to his chest again, and it’s difficult to keep from softening when he kisses that, too. “Sorry, dovey.” 
“It’s okay,” you say, begrudging, only because he really does seem to feel a bit bad. 
“Mm.” He reads your blood sugar. “You’re at ninety two.” 
“Is that good?” 
“It’s normal.” Remus holds your cheek again, looking down at you and stroking pensively with his thumb. You’re not sure if he’s feeling for something or just touching you; you’re happy either way. 
He hums softly. “Do you feel tired as well?” 
“A little, yeah.” 
“Headache?” 
You tilt your head back to see him. “What’s it mean?” 
“I’ll take that for a yes, then.” His lips curve softly. “I’m not completely sure what it means yet, but I’ve got a couple of theories.” 
“Can you fix it?” you ask, though really you have complete faith. Remus always fixes it. 
He kisses your head again like he knows what you’re thinking. His lips make a soft landing just short of your hairline. “We’ll see.” 
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kenobers · 4 months ago
Text
magic hands | Jason Todd x Sionis!Reader
but first free palestine !! Your regularly scheduled hook-up session with Jason Todd is rudely interrupted by the arrival of your period. As tragedy strikes, you have to ask Jason to buy you pads, perhaps throwing a curveball in your still emerging relationship. this installment comes before this one; you don't know jason is red hood in this one (not that it really matters to this particular story) tw: periods, mentions of drugging, reader having issues with acts of service, afab readera/n: i'm writing additions to this story completely out of order because i can. don't worry - you're gonna be the one comforting jason soon, just stay tuned. and if you're following me for the obi-wan content, i promise you'll also be fed soon. the sionis!reader concept was inspired by this ask on gilverrwrites' blog! In hindsight, it might've been kinda weird of me, but i couldn't get the concept out of my head. thank you to gilverr and anon! please check out their blog!
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Yo
You cringe a little at your choice of words, wishing you'd thought harder before sending the text. Well actually, you cringe at the entire situation. You despise having to ask for help, but you're a little desperate.
Would you-
Too entitled.
Would you mind-
Passive aggressive.
Will-
Your phone buzzes before you can finish typing.
yo.
That was fast.
You take a deep breath. Jason was coming over anyway and it wasn't like you were in any position to have sex like you were planning to. And this constitutes as a bit of an emergency, considering you're currently sitting on a wad of toilet paper.
Can you pick me up some pads?
You hit send and drop your phone on your bed. This is so embarrassing for no reason. Jason's a good guy, he isn't going to judge you for being on your period of all things. He's not going to hold it against you if you can't have sex either.
It was just that you weren't sure your relationship was...like that. Acts of service and all that. A month ago, you wouldn't have even considered asking him to do this. But you'd been a lot more personal with one another lately. Making dinner, staying the night, being physically affectionate while your clothes were still on.
Your phone vibrates and you frantically feel for the purple case in the grey and white sheets. You'll deal with that giddy feeling later.
i don't know, can i?
Fucker, you think, glaring at your screen. You start furiously forming a response about how you aren't in the fucking mood for this when your phone buzzes again.
yeah, of course i can. need anything else? painkillers? chocolate?
You eye the empty bottle on your nightstand. Your stomach cramps painfully.
I'm out of ibuprofen
Then you consider for a moment. With a sigh, you bite back your pride. Well, if he's offering.
...and maybe some ice cream.
you got it babe.
Babe. Heat rushes to your cheeks as the corners of your mouth twitch upwards.
Ten minutes later his name flashes on your screen again, along with a photo of a wall of pads.
which kind
Damn, he was kind of good at this. A flare of jealousy burns through you at the thought of Jason doing this for some other girl. Another feeling you'll deal with later. You circled your preferred brand and send it back.
check. headed your way shawty.
After another ten minutes, the rumbling of a motorcycle echoes through your street. Nine minutes and 45 seconds later, the sound of your living room window sliding open lures you from your bed.
You fight back a goofy grin at the sight of Jason's large-than-life frame slipping through the window, two plastic bags balanced in one gloved hand. Leaning against your kitchen island, you allow yourself a second to admire the curve of his ass in those joggers.
"Hey," you greet, shivering as a gust of wind followed the man. He gives you a toothy grin, sliding the window shut. With a dramatic flourish of his arm, he presents the drugstore bag to you.
"Your essentials, m'lady."
"Oh, my hero," you giggle, taking the bag gratefully. You eye the second bag suspiciously, although the telltale red thank you print and the smell of fried rice give the contents away. "Chinese?"
"Chinese," he confirms. "And before you say anything, I was already picking it up when you texted."
You purse your lips. He was starting to know you too well. You would've said something, would've lied about how you weren't hungry. The idea that he'd already thought to do something nice for you before he even knew about your situation makes your stomach twist.
Jason takes a step closer, trapping you between him and the island. He reaches behind you to set the food on the counter, green eyes trained on your face. It's hard not to shrink below his quizzical gaze. Goosebumps cover your bicep as the leather of his jacket rubs against your bare arm.
Bastard.
"That okay, pretty girl?"
Fuck, he's handsome. He knows it too, know to flick his dark hair just so. Knows how to look at you so that any "oh, you shouldn't have" argument you can conjure up falters before it can reach your tongue. It certainly doesn't help that he's flexing the arm reaching behind you just so.
"Perfect, even," you purr, uncrossing your arms to play with his jacket zipper. "How much do I owe you?"
"Don't worry about it." You try not to roll your eyes at him, reminding yourself that you were opting to be nicer to him tonight. He is your hero after all. His hands fall to your hips, his thumbs running along the bone. "How you feeling?"
You shrug, suppressing another shiver as his pinkie pokes below the length of your shorts.
"Shitty. Like everything hurts," you answer honestly. Your lip twitches and you abandon his jacket zipper in favor of the strings of his sweatshirt.
"'m sorry we can't, y'know, do what we planned." The apology floods abruptly from your lips. "I would offer to do it anyways, but I just, I-I can't with these cramps." Your hips twinge with pain to emphasize your point. "But, I mean, I can blow you if you really want-"
"Hey."
Two fingers tilt your chin up, tough leather juxtaposing soft skin. You hadn't even realized you'd stopped looking at his face. He's smiling at you.
"Don't worry about it," he says for the second time. "Lemme make you feel better. It'll piss Roman off just as much."
You both look pointedly at the bookshelf you're fairly certain your father had hidden some sort of recording device.
"Besides," he continues with a wolfish smirk. "I've become accustomed to a certain level of performance from you and I'm not sure if I'd receive that if you're not at your peak."
"Fine, only because you insisted," you sigh. "And I'm gonna do you a favor and ignore that last part." You turn away from him, fishing the package of pads and the ibuprofen out of the drugstore bag. "I'm gonna go...yeah."
You wave the package in the air as you head for the bathroom. With your back turned, you don't catch Jason saluting you.
When you return, you notice one of the books on the shelf has been inconspicuously placed over a Wonder Woman knick knack. Part of you is relieved to know your father can't spy on you tonight. Another part of you feels a pang of anxiety knowing that means tonight is just for the two of you to enjoy each other's company. As people. Not fuckbuddies.
This is still casual. Professional, you tell yourself. It's not like he's my boyfriend.
You turn to the kitchen, where Jason is pulling plates out of a cupboard, and ignoring the smaller voice that wouldn't mind him being your boyfriend.
He hands the plates to you, letting you dish the both of you up.
Jason sidles up behind you, pressing his chest to your back. You lean into him, letting him support your weight.
"Chinese was a good call," you say. He hums in response, dipping his hands under your shirt to rub your sides. You yelp in alarm as something wet hits your skin.
"Dude! What the fuck!"
Jason backs up, holding two cream covered hands in the air. He looks apologetic enough, but still smirks at the way you glowered at him over your shoulder. It's an awful cute look when it isn't coming from behind an ugly ass skull mask.
"It's just CBD."
You spin around, pointing your spoon straight at his heart.
"CBD- what, are you trying to get me high?"
It's all Jason can do not to double over laughing. He'd take a picture if he wasn't certain you would find a way to lodge that spoon in a major artery.
His laughter has you fidgeting nervously, trying to maintain your hard stare.
"Don't laugh at me."
To his credit, he stops almost immediately. He straightens his posture and gestures to a small round container on the counter.
"It's just a lotion. Helps with joint pain, I use it all the time. I thought it might help with cramps."
You blink. That was...incredibly thoughtful of him.
"Oh."
You turn back to the food, continuing your task sheepishly. All you ever do in front of this man is embarrass yourself. And orgasm.
He creeps back to his spot cautiously. You glance over your shoulder, briefly meeting his eyes.
"You can...continue," you tell him, your tone much softer now. He presses a kiss to the exposed junction of your neck and slides his hands back under your shirt.
It does feel nice to have him massage the cool lotion into your aching body. His fingers seem to know exactly where to go, undoing the built up tension and leaving a light buzz in its place.
"I'm sorry I snapped like that," you whisper. "I overheard some of my dad's idiots talking about some kind of lube that's infused with LSD or something. Apparently it's becoming a popular method for people to get what they want so...little on edge."
After a moment, Jason speaks again, "I wouldn't drug you like that, you know."
"What, topically?" You scoff, dividing the orange chicken equally.
"Without your consent."
You pause. You suppose you hadn't given much thought to how much Jason respected you in that regard. To be fair, you'd never really been around men that respected you at all.
"Well, that's good to know." It's not the most sensitive response, but you're sudden determined to move on from the conversation before you start oversharing. "Let's eat, big guy."
After dinner, Jason applies the lotion again. This time, you're sat on the couch between his legs as he drives the stuff into a knot on your hip. The TV drones with some black comedy series the two of you have been watching at the recommendation of one of his brothers.
"Do you get a lot of joint pain?" You ask suddenly, looking back at him. He doesn't tear his eyes away from the screen.
"Huh?"
"You said you use it a lot on your joints. Do you get a lot of joint pain?" Now he looks at you, one slit eyebrow raised. For a moment you watch him try to remember when he told you that. Then he smirks, a silly view from upside down.
"I do whenever you get through with me," he says, his chest vibrating under you. You give him a look. "Sometimes after the gym, yeah."
You're not quite sure you believe him, but you let it slide, turning back to the TV in time to see your least favorite character earn a smack to the face.
"It was nice of you to bring it."
"'s helping?"
"Mmh," You sigh as he works a particularly tough spot. Your relief is short lived however as the small of your back cramps up. A small gasp escapes you and you squirm and swear in Jason's arms.
He pauses his work on your hips.
"Where's it hurt?"
"Back," you whimper, turning over so he can get to it. He obliges immediately, rubbing the butt of his palm into the sore spot. You groan into his chest, melting beneath his magic hands. "The fuck did I ever manage this shit before you."
He snorts, "very bravely, I'm sure."
You smile at his answer. Clever boy. You reward him with a kiss, pleased when he returns it in kind. His hand doesn't stop its work on your back as his soft lips move gently with your own.
"You sure you don't want a blowjob?" you murmur against his mouth.
Jason nods, giving you another chaste kiss before pulling away. "You're in pain, sweetheart. Let yourself rest."
He moves his lips to your ear, lowering his voice.
"Now, how about that ice cream, hm?"
Absolute professional.
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madwomansapologist · 3 months ago
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──────〃✰ KINKTOBER DAY 3: 𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐀
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title: sweet dreams synopsis: watching the man you love deny himself of his needs, you take matters into your own hands. or lips, to be more precise. [1.5K] cw: established relationship, service top!reader, somnophilia, body worship, nipple stimulation, masturbation (m!receiving), oral (m!receiving), choking (gn!receiving), hair pulling, overstimulation.
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Some people give, some people take.
The world is a very complicated place, but it’s been a long time since you understood the balance is meant to be broken. Few rejoice youth’s spring, and only because most suffer the harshness of winter’s duties.
Kento knows that too. He saw spring escape from between his fingers as blood warmed his skin and worries filled his mind. A renowned soldier aware of the stupidity of the war he fought.
And he can’t ignore it. He tried, it would be so much easier to go on looking only at the path ahead of him, but Kento can’t. Isn’t that one of the reasons why you fell in love with him? Because he’s good. Because he cares.
Kento became the person that could’ve saved him once his youth rotted. Damn, Kento became the person that would’ve been able to save you when yours faded. He gives, wholeheartedly.
You only wish he would take something for himself too.
How many dreams have he chose to ignore? How many desires have he gave up on? For a man relying on the believe people are fundamentally entitled to have time, Kento doesn’t appear to have noticed how badly he deprives himself of it too.
The creak in the mattress made your eyes flutter open. “Kento?”, you babbled, fighting against your heavy eyelids.
He sighed. “I’m sorry”, Kento whispered. His body involved yours, his cold lips leaving kisses on your bare shoulder. “Go back to sleep, amor.”
You faced him, fingers intertwined with his golden locks. You stroked them, nails scratching lightly his head. Kento’s arms tightened against you. The tension on his body was palpable.
Curtains closed, your phone away so you would need to get up in the morning to turn off the alarm, the lampshade forgotten in the bedside table: you could still see his exhaustion. You felt it in the way Kento couldn’t let you go. You heard it in his deep breath. And smell it in the salty air, a subtle suggestion that blood was washed away.
“Was it bad?”
He hesitated. “Almost”, Kento said.
Your nails moved to his ear. Lightly, you caressed it. Your thumb followed the line of his jaw, the delicate valley of his lips, the veins of his neck. “I can make you forget about it”, you offered. You moved closer, leg sliding between his thighs.
Kento said nothing. Your knee found his crotch, pressing against it. Moving your open palm against his chest, you made a mental note to be good and soft. Your man had enough of rough for the night.
Supported on your elbow, you gave your warmth to his lips. A sweet kiss, innocent as if you couldn’t feel his cock hardening. Kento opened his lips, you almost taste the toothpaste.
And then he turned his face away, depriving himself once more. “I want this. You”, he sounded almost apologetic. As if he did something wrong. “But I’m so tired.”
 You moved your leg away, a deep sigh escaping from Kento’s throat. You took his hand from your hips, massaging his fingers as you led them to your mouth. “Dream with me”, you kissed each of his knuckles.
Kento chuckled. “I always do.”
He went back to hugging you, eyes closing as Kento adjusted his head on the pillow. You scratched his head, and continued even after he told you to rest.
Kento was really tired. He didn’t even call you stubborn.
You admired him. It was so dark, but your eyes still couldn’t look anywhere else. Such a sweet man. Always strong, always ready. The hand that executes is the same that holds you with care. The man that keeps on breathing out of rage wouldn’t dream of showing you anything but his love.
If there has to be a majority suffering, if this needs to be a rule, then you want Kento to be with the few. You wouldn’t mind feeling all the pain alone. As long as it’s his.
And now, already deep asleep, you can still feel him. Half rigid against your tummy. Kento Nanami, a man so used to not have what he wants. Your man, ever the sweetest, never taking what he desires.
So, if Kento won’t take, you’ll give to him. Wholeheartedly.
Your body is his. No complains from Kento will convince you that bleeding in his place isn’t the right thing to do. No pain will stop you from fighting battles alongside him. No tiredness will ever make you think twice before using your domain so he can heal properly.
Your mind is his too. When you look at Kento, all you do is wonder about his needs. Gazing at his eyes, you look for signs of exhaustion. At his thin cheeks, you plan healthy meals. His clothes make you turn on or off the heater. No sickness can get to him before you already know what medicine to buy.
His clock wouldn’t agree, and neither does Kento, but he owns your time too.
Slowly, you moved away from his embrace. The mattress creaked again, and you waited for him to say something. Kento couldn’t have noticed it less.
Your fingers worked on the buttons of his shirt. Putting the soft fabric away, you revealed his torso. Surrounded by darkness, you knew where to kiss every scar. One day you’ll draw stars all around them. Your nails explored the skin of his body, every line and curve remembered carefully by your mind.
Gently, you pressed his nipples between your fingers. You licked them, feeling as they grew rigid, and sucked on them. Leaving a glistening trail of saliva behind, you kissed his whole chest with open mouth.
You kneeled on the mattress, catching your breath. Stretching, you turned the lampshade on. If Kento wakes up, you want him to see how willing you’re to make him feel good. You know he’ll enjoy the sight as much as you love being seen.
Pulling down his boxers, you grabbed his half-hard cock. You pressed your thumb against the rosy head, biting your lips at the feel of him. A baffled grunt made to your ears.
You couldn’t wait any longer.
Placing a kiss over the head, you brushed your nose against his growing erection. Holding Kento, you sucked his heavy balls. The sound of it in the middle of a silent night made you feel like a sinner.
Hell doesn’t seem like that bad of a place now.
You licked his length, losing your mind at the muffled sounds he made. Making out with his head, you drooled over him. What a mess you were making. What a mess your mind was.
Oh, Kento. Such a giver. Always so careful. How you want to break him. Make him fall apart for you. To get Kento crying, begging for all his desires to come true. You would do anything he wanted. If only he would ask you.
Lost on your own fantasies, you chocked on him. So eager. You pumped his cock wet with your drool, so hard between your fingers, and prepared your jaw.
As you took him in, the tender flesh stretched you. Salty against your tongue. You chocked again, but this time you simply continued. With tears forming in your eyes, you devoured him.
You didn’t even notice when Kento’s eyes fluttered open. When the small grunts turned into sensitive moans. When he tried to move, half present and half lost in a sweet dream.
“Wh- “, his fingers grabbed the sheets. Kento moved his neck, the sudden motion burning his wounded back, and looked down. “Oh, fuck.”
Looking at you, eyes closed as you took his entirety into your mouth, Kento shuddered. His body fell on the pillows, hands grabbing your hair without a worry about not being gentle. He couldn’t think. Kento couldn’t do anything but feel.
His hips moved on their own, his mind nowhere to be found. Kento whimpered, eyes closed so hard he could see blurs all around. Was he dreaming still? It feels like one.
Deep into your throat, feeling it gagging around him, Kento cried. Sobbing, tears feel on his ears. It was too good, too sudden. His legs were shaking, his throat burning. Lost in a dream, unaware of how his fingers forced your head down on his length, Kento panted your insides with his thick load.
You didn’t allow one drop to go wasted.
After his high came to an end, Kento noticed he wasn’t breathing. He opened his mouth, trying to get as much air as he could. His throat ached as Kento gasped, surprised by the sweetest kiss he ever received.
“I’m sorry”, you whispered against his lips. Stroking the golden locks, you kissed his chin and cheeks. “Go back to sleep.”
So Kento laughed. Like a maniac. “You are
” Dizzy eyes glared at you, his mouth left hanging open. He smiled. You couldn’t see, but you heard it. He left kisses all over your face. “Dream with me”, he asked.
“I always do”, was your response.
Was the truth.       
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lovelettersfromluna · 1 year ago
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yk how in one of your girls Ellie mentioned she got off to reader and was thinking abt her all day while she was gone
 can u plz plz plz writing something about Ellie rubbing one out to reader OR OR writing one of Ellie’s solo vids since she said she did solo when Julia left.. I just love seeing Ellie pleasure herself I need it so bad..
an: I literally have a paper that I need to write that’s due TONIGHT but I’m doing this first because it’s more important 😌
Warnings: SMUT!! 18+, MDNI, solo!ellie, fingering, horny!Ellie, dirty talk, Ellie fantasizes about reader, this all takes place in the second chapter of my camgirl!Ellie series, Ellie has sensitive nipples bc I said so, pure smut with little plot, slight sugarmommy!Ellie if you squint??, lmk if I missed anything!
Ellie was bored out of her fucking mind.
She was always bored when you were at work, to be honest, but she usually had Julia to entertain her. She would usually text or call her, invite her over to get a quick video in, anything to fill up the time where the apartment was void of you.
That was out of the question now.
She tried everything. She tried making herself something to eat, which she ended up burning. She tried watching tv, but there was nothing on that she liked. She tried playing video games, which resulted in her screaming at some fucking incel half way across the world for being a fucking idiot. Hell, she even tried putting herself down for a nap like she was a child, which once again failed.
Ellie was getting antsy, wanting nothing more than to just be with you, be in your presence. And that's fine, because you and her are friends! It has nothing to do with the fact that ever since you had agreed to being her temporary partner, she couldn't seem to get you out of her mind.
That wasn't it at all...
She let out a gentle huff of annoyance, seemingly the hundredth one for the day, as she got up from the couch in the living room and made her way to her bedroom.
Ellie fell back into the soft comforter on her bed, a gentle sigh leaving her lips as she stared up at the ceiling for a moment before she turned over to grab her phone to check the time, which only made her groan out in frustration.
You wouldn't be home for another four hours.
This had to be some kind of cruel and unusual punishment, why were you still even working! Ellie had told you time and time again that she was making more than enough to support the both of you, and now you were even entitled to it! You were helping her bring it in! She hated how stubborn you were when it came to the topic.
She just wanted to take care of you...
You deserved to be spoiled. You spent so much of your time at the record store, slaving away to posers who usually belittled you for being a woman in the music business, wanted to get into your pants, or both, and she hated it, she always had.
She fantasized about never letting you lift a finger, always telling you that she would take care of it. Ellie never wanted you to worry your pretty little head about anything, regardless of if you agreed to make content with her or not.
Ellie would never say it out loud, but the idea of spoiling you made her weak in the fucking knees.
And she isn't entirely sure how it lead to her hand resting on her waist, toying with the sliver of skin thats peeking out between the hem of her t shirt and the waistband of her sweatpants, slender fingers slowly creeping beneath them as her hazy, lust filled eyes stare down at her own legs splayed out on her bed...
Although she is sure of how it happened, she knows that with thoughts of spoiling you, come other thoughts of you, because suddenly she's thinking of you settled between her legs, wide eyes staring up at her, eager to please, wet tongue lapping at her soaking wet core, pretty lips wrapped around her throbbing clit.
Or maybe she's thinking of something else, maybe she's thinking about you straddling her, bouncing on her cock, back arched as the sweet sound of your pretty moans fill up her room, paired with the noise of your skin slapping against her own. She can practically feel your soft, supple skin spilling out from under her large hands, she can't help but feel and squeeze whenever you're around.
And suddenly, Ellie isn't so bored after all.
Because her sweatpants are long gone, tugged off and throw somewhere in her room along with her soaked boxers. Her t shirt it pushed up, revealing her perky tits and pebbled nipples, the cold air in her room alone making them harden, making her hiss as her skilled fingers work on her soaked core.
She isn't laying down anymore, instead she's propped up a bit, her back resting against her pillows, eyebrows furrowed as her fingers work on her clit, abusing the poor sensitive numb as she rolls sharp circles into it. Ellie was never careful with herself, not like she was with you. She liked being rough when it came to her own weeping pussy, making it all red and sore, sopping wet and begging for more.
"A-ahh...f-fuck...just like that baby...mmhh...right there...dont fucking stop.." She groaned out, eyebrows furrowed, freckled cheeks flushed.
Ellie always prided herself on her filthy mouth. She could feel the way your pussy fluttered around her fingers or her tongue whenever she said something particularly dirty, so of course when thinking about you, her words didn't cease.
Her head fell back against her pillow when she pushed two fingers into her drooling pussy, a long, loud string of moans leaving her swollen lips as she called out for you, your name becoming her own personal chant as her eyes fluttered shut..
"Fuuuuckkk...that's it baby...f-fuck....fuckin' take it...thats it...thats my good girl" She shuttered out, struggling to form full sentences as she brought her eyes back down to the mess between her legs.
She tugged her bottom lip between her teeth, one of her hands coming up and ghosting over her hard nipple, making her whine softly before she pinched it, making her eyes wince as she thrusted her hips up to meet her fingers, wanting them to go deeper into her weeping core.
Ellie let the images of you run through her head. She imagined you on top of her, grinding your perfect pussy onto hers. She imagined you underneath her, your ass bouncing against her thrusts as she fucked her cock into you, drilling you from behind.
But what really did it? Was imagining that her fingers, were yours.
"M'gonna....you're gonna make me fucking cum...o-oh my god...yeah...yeah right there....fuckfuckfuckfuck!" Ellie called out, her back arching as she felt her orgasm right there on the edge, the feeling she was chasing after dangling right over her head, so close she could practically fucking taste it...
Practically taste you.
Ellie screamed out your name, her hair messy as she pressed her head further into the pillow, her orgasm washing over her so intensely, it was almost fucking painful.
She struggled to catch her breath, hazy eyes staring down at her hand as she slowly rubbed her clit, riding out her orgasm as soft little hums and moans left her lips, almost liking the overwhelming feeling of sensitivity that came after she orgasmed.
Ellie sighed softly, looking over at her phone and checking the time, seeing that she still had a little less than four hours until you got home.
A little less than four hours to do what she just did, over and over again.
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literaryvein-reblogs · 27 days ago
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How do I write mean insults that's in character for a character to say? I'm personally poor at coming up with insults that don't sound generic or would actually cut deep, being mean in general. I want to write a snarky character with a dry sense of humour when it calls for it but don't know how to go about it.
He's also recovering from a superiority and inferiority complex.
As the writer, you know your character best, and what insults would make sense for them to say (also considering the bigger context of the scene). So, I'll just provide you with a compilation of prompts and notes from different sources, and you can choose which ones are most appropriate to incorporate in your story.
Writing Notes: Insults & Dry Humor
A List of "Sophisticated" Insults
Craven - having or showing a complete lack of courage; very cowardly
Fatuous - silly or stupid; complacently or inanely foolish. From Latin infatuate, which once meant "to make foolish," but which now usually means "to inspire with foolish love or admiration."
Insipid - not interesting or exciting; dull or boring
Obstreperous - difficult to control and often noisy
Obtuse - stupid or unintelligent; not able to think clearly or to understand what is obvious or simple
Pusillanimous - weak and afraid of danger. It's been used by such notables as Ralph Waldo Emerson ("It is a pusillanimous desertion of our work to gaze after our neighbours"), and the disgraced Vice-President Spiro Agnew, who called journalists "pusillanimous pussyfooters."
Sanctimonious - pretending to be morally better than other people. It once meant "possessing sanctity; holy, sacred." The genuinely holy aspect faded, and William Shakespeare is credited with first using sanctimonious to mean "hypocritically pious or devout."
Twee - sweet or cute in a way that is silly or sentimental. Just as buddy is believed to be a baby talk alteration of "brother", twee is a baby talk alteration of "sweet". Although twee is still considered a chiefly British term, it's increasingly popular in American English.
Unctuous - revealing or marked by a smug, ingratiating, and false earnestness or spirituality. Unction can mean "anointment" or it can name something used to anoint, such as a soothing or lubricating oil. That idea of oiliness led to unctuous, which can describe the slickness of false sincerity.
Vacuous - having or showing a lack of intelligence or serious thought; lacking meaning, importance, or substance
The insult would also depend on which other character it is directed at. Here is a list of "funny" insults for adults from Reader's Digest:
My days of not taking you seriously have come to a middle.
You are the human equivalent of a participation trophy.
If you were a spice, you’d be flour.
You may have a sparsely attended funeral.
I smell something burning. Are you trying to think again?
You’re like a lighthouse in a desert: bright but not very useful.
Don’t worry—the first 30 years of childhood are always the hardest.
May your life be as pleasant as you are.
You’re as useless as the “ueue” in “queue.”
Your face is just fine. It’s your personality that’s the issue.
...and for your character's significant other:
I like you. People say I have no taste, but I like you.
You continue to meet my expectations.
I’ll never forget the first time we met. But I’ll keep trying.
If genius skips a generation, our kids will be brilliant.
We were happily married for a month. Too bad it’s our 10-year anniversary.
I admire the way you try so hard.
You’re entitled to your incorrect opinion.
Have you tried doing it the way I told you to the first time?
The best part of watching a show with you is when you fall asleep because then I can watch my show.
Don’t call me crazy—you’re the one who married me!
You can always alter these to better suit your character. You can read the full list here, which also includes some insults for kids, best friends, and family.
Tips for Better Humor Writing
Humor writing isn’t all about landing a good joke (except for when it is). In creative writing, the effect is usually a bit more nuanced. Here’s a few writing techniques to get you started:
Subvert expectations. Try to undermine the audience’s expectations or reform them with structural elements.
Save the best for last. Humor is often a release of tension, so the sentence builds that tension, and the pay-off—the punchline—happens most naturally at the end. This is also sometimes referred to as the “rule of three,” where two thoughts act as a build-up to the final humorous closer.
Use contrast. Are your characters in a terrifying situation? Add something light, like a man obsessing about his briefcase instead of the T-Rex looming behind him.
Use good wordplay. Sometimes words themselves are funny, and just as often, their placement in a sentence can make a difference. Some words are just funnier than others, so make a list of those that amuse you the most.
Take advantage of clichĂ©. While clichĂ©s are something most writers try to avoid, it’s important to recognize them,so you can use them to your advantage. Humor relies in part on twisting a cliché—transforming or undermining it. You do this by setting up an expectation based on the clichĂ© and then providing a surprise outcome. In humor writing, this process is called reforming.
Use humor as a counterbalance. If you just pile on one terrible thing after another, it starts to become ridiculous, and people won’t buy it. Using humor is a great way to achieve the proper balance between fantasy and real life. Remember, if a roller coaster only did twists and turns the whole time, it wouldn’t be as fun to ride.
Level of Intensity
There are people who shrug off an insult (“That’s just the way she is”) and people who commit murder over an insult (“I’m avenging my honor!”). Plus, of course, everything in between. Which is your character?
To be believable, consider the following:
Personality. How hard does your character take events in general? Does s/he get really excited over good fortune and really depressed over setbacks? Then we’ll find it believable that s/he gets really angry and reacts accordingly.
The second cause of an intense reaction is the nature of the specific fight that you’re creating on the page. Lily Owens lets most of her father’s insults go by (“the art of survival”). But when he starts in about her mother, the topic is too important to Lily to gloss over. Lily’s reaction is intense. She runs away. Another type of character might merely have seethed silently. Still another might have fought T. Ray more intensively, setting fire to the house with him inside.
Finally, the strength of fights is culturally determined. Where public or even private scenes are disapproved of (upper-class London, old-money Boston, “well-behaved” families), arguments may be muted, even when the subject matters a great deal. In other cultures, volatility is not frowned on, and people may feel free to scream at each other in public. In extreme cases, murder may even be considered a duty, as in avenging a sister’s sexual assault.
Where is your story taking place? Are your arguers in tune with local or family culture? Maybe not. You can create interesting effects by portraying the rebels against the local mores: the meek child born into a battling family, the furious feminist in polite 19th-century English society.
On Dry Humor
Dry humor - is all about the subtle irony of the facts being stated plainly; it is the contrast between sentiment and reality that makes the situation funny.
The technique is known for its simple, often matter-of-fact declarations that will make the audience laugh or be perplexed (humor is subjective, after all).
With dry humor, delivery and intention create a sort of comedic cognitive dissonance or contrast. Sometimes it is as simple as using a bit of sarcasm, but it can also be more than that.
Dry humor lives and dies on the back of doing less.
Less facial expressions, less props, less setup—less is often more when it comes to landing the joke. You aren’t using a big, dramatic setup or a grandiose vocabulary to make your point.
Essentially, these jokes are derived from saying the opposite of what is meant or delivering them in a way that purposefully counteracts the supposed meaning of what is being said.
Dry Humor in Writing
The function of dry humor has often been to highlight the absurd.
It is effectively executed in moments where satirization of the circumstances at play require little more than noting the facts aloud.
When writing this sort of humor, quick, cutting accuracy is key to making the jokes land.
Simplicity is king, and an honest statement of the facts will always lead the way to finding the funny.
Sources: 1 2 3 4 5 ⚜ More: References ⚜ Humour ⚜ Laughter & Humour
Hope this helps with your writing!
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cobaltperun · 1 month ago
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Darkest Part (4) - Died In Your Arms
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Astrid Deetz x female Reader
Summary: You will never, in life or afterlife, if such a thing exists, meet anyone as infuriating, rage inducing, entitled, or frankly awful, as Astrid fucking Deetz. There isn’t a single thing you’d like more than to never be around her, but as your luck would have it, you just can’t stay away from her.
Masterlist / First part / Previous Part / Next Part
Word count: 5.3k
-Oh I, I just died in your arms tonight, it must've been some kind of kiss, I should've walked away-
This was a good life, hot chocolate, paper taped to the desk as you drew your third sketch of the building you had in mind. Away from all the worries and for a moment free from any obligations.
“How’s it going?” your mom came up to you and leaned over to kiss your cheek.
“Mom, you shouldn’t-“ she didn’t wince, her back didn’t hurt, yeah, it would end soon, and you desperately wanted it to continue. Wanted things to get better, wanted her to be healthy again.
Your phone had other ideas, as the alarm rang and the sound of it startled you awake. Curse your need to constantly change your alarm ringtone, otherwise you’d get used to it and sleep right through it. This new one was ridiculously awful, like someone constantly ringing the bell, but it got the job done. “Am I ever going to wake up well-rested again?” you wondered, feeling like you barely slept a wink. You just couldn’t get used to this house.
Well, considering the tales about it, maybe that wasn’t that strange.
Or it was just the reasonable explanation.
As it was, last night your exhausted body just collapsed onto the bed and you fell asleep, and then got woken up by the chill of the night, because of course you were too tired to cover yourself. What followed was you spending way too long trying to warm up. Winter River indeed, it really was cold. Why couldn’t this be some pleasant warm place, somewhere you could still go around wearing short sleeves instead of already needing several layers of clothing.
The only thing worse than the cold was the Chihuahua that was also in the house. “Why the fuck would I let her be on my mind first thing in the morning?” you slapped your forehead, now even more annoyed. Of all the people you could have thought of at the start your day, it had to be her.
Annoyed, you threw the covers off and immediately came to regret it as the cold air made you shiver. On second thought you should probably stay in bed a bit longer, so you went back under the covers into the warm escape from the chilling cold. You swiftly unlocked your phone and figured you might as well check up on your mom and Alex. You sent each of them a message asking how they were and if everything was fine and put your phone away. It was still too early to call them and if you had to be awake it didn't mean you had to wake them up too.
~X~
Halfway through the day and a lot of packing later, you sat down at the table exhausted with the hot cup of tea in front of you. You really needed that as the warmth of the tea seemed to seep into your very soul. Actually, you also needed a blanket around your shoulders and the nice warm fire accompanied by perhaps movie. It's been a while since you've watched ‘Kill, Baby, Kill’ and you were really in the mood for it after these past few days.
Seeing your favorite movie again would probably make your life a tiny bit better.
No, instead of that you had to deal with someone rather happy getting inside the house with an obvious bounce to their steps. You raised your head, confused and for a moment even terrified that someone actually broke in and just didn't care about making noises. And then that someone walked through the door into the dining room and you would have been a lot happier if it was a burglar.
No. Instead it was the fucking Chihuahua what a wide, frighteningly bright, and happy grin on her face and the world was going to end any moment now. You were fairly sure, and not at all being too dramatic, that Astrid Deetz, also known as Chihuahua, being this obviously happy was one of the eleven signs of the apocalypse.
“Oh, of course you're here. Well, it doesn't matter, not even you can ruin my mood,” she just  walked past you, still happy, and not throwing insults at you. She didn’t do anything! Absolutely nothing! Not even glaring at you and you could not remember the last time you were this frightened.
You scrambled to your feet and rushed outside. “Delia!” you cried out hoping the woman would have some kind of help for you maybe some medicine for hallucinations or a plausible explanation or anything really as long as it helped. You desperately needed someone to convince you that just made what happened up in your head!
It was all in your head. There was no other explanation, which made it even more concerning because Astrid Deetz being in your head and part of your hallucinations was not a good sign for you. Frankly, at this point you had no idea which was worse, Astrid being happy or you thinking about the damn Chihuahua to the point of hallucinating seeing her happy.
~X~
“Damn it Delia, why couldn’t you just get this delivered to the damn house?!” you hissed, a lot like the creatures inside the box you were currently carrying. You knew you had fear of heights before, but apparently you also had a fear of snakes. Which was made a lot worse by the sounds the snakes were making and you were praying that the people Delia bought the snakes from didn't scam her and actually defanged them.
Sure, in theory you were safe. The box was sealed, and safe, but your brain still came up with frightening scenarios. As safe as the box probably was you were still frightened that they would somehow find their way out and bite you and you did not want to die due to snake bites.
‘How many times am I going to risk my life in one single week?’ you wondered, and you really shouldn't have because you had a few more times before the end of this trip.
You finally reached the house and couldn’t have been happier to see it as you rushed up the stairs and set the box on the table for Delia to do whatever she intended to do with the snakes. You really hoped she wouldn't make you go with her because at that point you might actually think staying with Rory would be more pleasant. And just to be safe you immediately turned to Delia when she walked into the room. “I'm done with the snakes, I did my part the rest is up to you,” you urgently informed her before she could get more great ideas.
Delia just laughed. “They are defanged, don't worry,” apparently they were, you weren’t about to check.
You slumped slightly, doing your best puppy eyes to get her to let you stay out of this. “I am still not comfortable around snakes, so please don’t ask me to help you with them,” well at least she didn't look like she would push you to join her as she smiled and patted you on the shoulder.
“Come on, I'm not that cruel,” she smiled at you and then shook her head in amusement at the relief showing on your face. “I thought it would be a good experience is for you to watch, but it’s fine if you don’t. Oh and Y/N, you can rest tonight, you don't even have to go to the wedding,” she was telling you one good news after the other. “We have a few more things to do tomorrow morning and then you can go back home,” Delia surprise you but maybe you should have expected it. She had her moments of kindness and you've been on the receiving end plenty of times, despite all the less pleasant, more dangerous and difficult moments you had with her.
“Thanks Delia, I really appreciate it,” you told her as Astrid joined the two of you.
“Snakes?” Astrid looked at the content of the box, surprised by what she saw and for once you couldn't blame her. Personally, you didn't quite get why Delia got them herself but she wanted them and she got them. Something about Ancient Egypt and Pharaohs from what you understood.
“Actually asps,” Delia corrected her, and you had to admit she actually sounded excited about them.
“Why? Are they a wedding gift for Rory?” Astrid asked, hopeful that the answer would be yes.
“Now that would’ve made it worth carrying them,” you knew that wasn’t their purpose but  no one could force you to stop happily imagining Rory freaking out over the snakes.
For the first time since you've known her, Astrid actually didn't have a rude remark or an insult for you, and actually just rolled her eyes with a smile which was almost freaky but not exactly an unwelcome change.
“Too late they've be defanged, guaranteed harmless! And they're for me.” Delia shattered your dreams well, yours was never even allowed to begin because you knew from the start what she wanted to do with them. Still for a moment you could hope that she would at least use them as a prank. It’s not like they were one se only! She could use them for more than one thing. After all, she already got them, why not just use them on the bastard as a very funny prank. It would not change anything about the snakes, and they could still be used for the ritual thing she had in mind.
Well, you were left with only your dreams.
You left the two of them to check if there was anything left unpacked, you were just about to head back upstairs when Lydia rushed down and you turned around, not sure how to react to the frantic woman.
“You got your wish, we're leaving! Pack up your things, I'm driving you back to school,” Lydia seemed absolutely frantic, like she just saw a ghost, which, well, she was supposed to be able to see them. You watched from the stairs as she went by you and toward the front door
“Wait! What happened” Astrid called after her.
“You wouldn't believe me if I told you,” Lydia denied answering Astrid’s question.  That actually made sense, especially if it had something to do with ghosts, which this house apparently had at one point. So going by their relationship and the issues Astrid had with her mother you guessed it was something paranormal in question.
Delia, however, did not make that connection. ïżœïżœïżœOh you're calling off the wedding?” she went after Lydia outside and just for a moment you and Astrid exchanged looks do you just shrugged finally realizing that you couldn't even begin to try and have a normal conversation with her. That's how used you were to just fights and banter and insults and everything that came along with this hatred between you.
Eventually you just pointed at yourself then point upstairs and then point at her and outside. The message being clear, you would, rather regrettably, check up on Rory while she would go and check up on her mother.
To that Astrid, just as unsure of how to interact with you like a normal human being, just went and gave you a thumbs up and you both went your separate ways, one up the stairs to the attic and the other outside to talk to her mother.
~X~
Lydia was stuck in the office, just contemplating everything about her and Astrid’s relationship.
Apparently, her daughter was not gay. In fact, she had a date with a boy. Her first date was with a boy, not with the girl as she expected it would be. Did Lydia really mess up that much that she wasn't even capable of seeing how things actually were? Her daughter, who she believed was gay and actually had a crush on you and was just unable to properly act up on those feelings, threw her a curveball and was going on a date on Halloween night with a boy she met 2 days ago.
How did she miss the signs?
Her concerns were now even bigger because, unlike you, this boy was a complete unknown for Lydia. She didn't know his full name, she didn't know his parents, granted she didn't know your parents either but that was beside the point, she didn't know how he spent his time, what his interests were. She didn't know anyone who knew him, and she was now overthinking it and panicking and was getting even more nervous and afraid for her own daughter because this was a mess, and she was disappointed in herself as a mother for mistaking her daughter’s sexuality.
Maybe Astrid was just bisexual. Maybe. Maybe Lydia just got so deep into preparing for a girlfriend that she forgot that there were other options, all equally daunting for her as the mother of a child that would soon start, that actually just stated dating, and find her own love and heartbreak and everything Lydia herself went through all those decades ago.
Also did her daughter actually just tell her that she crashed through the fence and that's how she met the guy? Like it was just something people did for fun? How did that even happen?
Lydia began breathing deeply, huffing and taking very loud, very deep breaths. She could not go down that train of thought.
~X~
He liked her.
Jeremy liked her. Astrid knew that much, she could see signs that he wanted to kiss her, that he really didn't want to spend any time handing out candies to the kids and instead actually wanted to spend time with her.
And she, at least logically speaking, wasn't opposed to the idea. At least it would prove to her that some feelings she may or may not have were, in fact, not real and just her heart playing with her brain so she would kiss him to prove her heart wrong.
Astrid let him approach her, she felt his hands on her, hugging her and she hugged him back, and he held her like he hasn’t been touched in years. Like he was desperate to feel someone’s touch, someone’s kind and positive touch. Astrid could almost feel his breath on her lips and then she just couldn't do it, because there was an infuriating Barnacle plaguing her thoughts at that very moment.
She pulled away, separating from him even though she knew how it looked. “Sorry I just I think we are rushing too fast into this,” she apologized and he seemed understanding at first. At least from the looks of it, he just turned to the window and looked rejected “I'm not saying I'm opposed to kissing you eventually, but we just met two days ago,” she tried to cheer him up but then he turned to face her.
“No, you’re right, I'm- I'm sorry I just got excited because you can see me and for over 23 years no one saw me and I just thought we had something,” she must have heard him wrong but then she looked down and saw it.
He was floating and that's when she realized all the stories her mother told were actually true and she was actually seeing a ghost these past few days
~X~
You were in the living room, with everyone aside from Astrid and Rory, plus Jane, just lazing around on the sofa and texting Alex. You weren’t in a costume, you had no intention of dressing up for the Halloween.
The truth was, you kind of hated Halloween. Well hate might be a strong word, mostly reserved for Astrid and maybe another thing or two. No the actual word you were looking for regarding Halloween was more like indifference brought upon by that's one time you got dressed as a pumpkin and got teased for by your classmates.
It wasn't fun. It was actually horrific and ever since then you just didn't bother celebrating Halloween. So, what if Astrid was currently on her ridiculous date? It had nothing to do with your current mood. Even if you did hated the guy more than you hated her for some reason. You should have felt sorry for him, after all he was the one who had to deal with being on a date with the Chihuahua.
So, no, you did not care about Astrid being on a date with some random dude.
You just realized you’d be all alone. Delia would be at the cemetery doing whatever she seemed to want to do with the snakes and Lydia would be preparing for her wedding and Rory would be giving out the candy. And you were fine with that. You would just be hanging around on the couch in the living room waiting for Delia to sign all the papers and then you could just go ahead and leave, just start packing what little things you brought here and get ready to go back home. Luckily Delia promised she would arrange a car to come pick you up.
“Where's Rory?” Lydia asked out of blue, almost as if she was asking out of obligation, because she should know where he was and not because she actually had to know where he was. Especially since she had Chihuahua’s first date to worry about.
“Supermarket swapping out the candy I bought for carrot sticks, because Rory loves to fun suck everything even Halloween,” of course Delia did not miss a single chance point out the kind of person Rory was, because Lydia apparently couldn’t see him for who he really was. Even if it didn’t change anything you figured she did feel the need to, in her own way, warn her stepdaughter about him because as far as you knew telling Lydia that Rory was not who he was presenting himself as wasn't working. “Gotta run, see you at the church,” she turned back to Lydia and with a hopeful look added. “Unless you're calling off the wedding.”
“No Delia,” Lydia sighed and just noticed Delia was leaving, that was how focused on Astrid she was. “Wait, why are you going to the cemetery?” Lydia asked. It just crossed your mind that she in her panic earlier today did not see the snakes Delia bought.
“To commune with my dear husband spirit,” was all Delia needed to say. She quickly waved at you and was on her way leaving you alone with Lydia and Jane and from the looks of it, Jane was going to leave soon so that would just leave you and Lydia alone in the house for a while. At least until she would go and get Astrid. Oh, and until Rory came back.
Still, it could be fun. You haven't had the chance to be on your own wait the Lydia Deetz and you actually were curious about her. And it had nothing to do with maybe not wanting to be alone while a certain Chihuahua was on a date with a guy she met two days ago, while she spent so damn long hating you. Yeah, that had nothing to do with it.
Nothing at all!
You did not care where that stupid Chihuahua was or how quickly she fell in love like dumb ass.
“The closest we ever got to Disney was when Astrid dressed as Cinderella’s dead mom,” you absolutely did not filter out what Jane mentioned about her daughter and scouts or whatever group her daughter was in and you absolutely did not think Astrid’s costume sounded exactly like her.
Jane said something something fruit salad mortgage something something non triggering and then asked the question that was annoying the hell out of you, that is, she asked where Astrid was.
Lydia had this soft, yet somber smile on her face. “On a date,” she said, like a parent learning to accept their child was growing up. “Her first. I think I'm more nervous than she is. The boy lives over on Jefferson,” Lydia really did sound nervous when she said that, and you guessed between their rocky relationship and all the things that happened Astrid’s first date at this moment wasn’t something Lydia was entirely prepared for.
Something something perfect sales records something something on the market for years something something once more you're pretty much tuning out the words of the woman the Deetz family hired to sell their house. And you were doing good, tuning her out, that is until she said three words: the murder house and you immediately sat up and stopped texting Alex. A sinking feeling inside of your guts was almost telling you to pay attention because you just had a bad feeling about what was going to they said next.
“Murder house? Which house?” Lydia asked now frantic and you sort of pieced together that's maybe the house show left Astrid at wasn't that far off from looking like a murder house. Because if the house looked normal and if Lydia you got to see the parents or that boy she would not be looking this afraid right now.
“125,” James said and just from the look of Lydia's face you knew that was the house Astrid was in and so you jumped to your feet and rushed to get the car keys.
“Fucking hell Chihuahua, what did you get yourself into?” just as you've got the keys you saw Lydia rushing out. “I'm going with you!” you quickly told her and followed after her into the car. The woman was clearly in shock but all she cared about was just getting to Astrid, nothing else mattered.
You did not dare to tell her you would get there in time. You had no idea how all of this worked, sure you believed in ghosts and you've been seeing glimpses of strange things throughout your life. You still had no idea how any of that actually functioned. You had no idea if they could harm Astrid.
If the guy she was with was bad news then she probably was in danger and especially if Lydia, the most competent person to judge if her daughter was in danger from ghosts was also panicking. “He killed his parents 23 years ago!” okay, Astrid was definitely in danger. “If I just didn’t let her into that house, if I just went in with her! What kind of mother am I if something happens to her-“ Lydia was mostly talking to herself.
“Hey, wait, wait, don't go there you couldn't know!” You tried to get her to calm down. “You're the expert but you couldn't know! Just focus on saving her so you can berate yourself later,” you needed her focused because if she wasn't, you had no hopes of getting Astrid back in time. And you really, as much as you didn't like Astrid, did not want her dead or in danger.
~X~
The moment the car began slowing down in front of the house you just ran out, without even waiting for it to stop and ran up the stairs ignoring the for sale sign in front of the house. You ended up bursting through the doors so hard the handle might have gotten a bit damaged because the doors were old.
You stumbled when you entered the house, you felt sick for a moment when you saw the man. But you did not see him clearly, it was like there was a mist around him.
"Astrid!" Lydia yelled and it snapped you out of your confusion. That man was a ghost, mist meant ghost, at least at this stage of your ability to see ghosts. So, you rushed right through the woman going down the stairs.
"Wait! Deetz!" you yelled as loud as you could as you ran up the stairs two steps at a time. You saw the light and broke through the door, but Astrid just walked through something.
"What the? Barnacle?" your eyes met and you reached out to her but the ghost guy grabbed her forearm and pulled her along and the portal closed before you could reach out and grab her hand.
"Astrid!" Lydia cried out, but it was too late as well.
If only she reached out to you. For the first time since you met her you cursed yourself for not being at least civil with her. "Damn it!" you slammed your fist on the old table, right next to some thick book. "What do we do now?"
Lydia grabbed the book on the table, your outburst probably caught her attention. "Come on, I have a crazy idea," you saw uncertainty in her eyes, fear that maybe not even what she had in mind would be enough, but she had to hope. You both rushed down the stairs, every second mattered and you couldn't waste time on just talking. "Can you drive?" she asked, clearly intending to go through the book.
"Of course," you nodded and ran to the car, starting the engine once more as Lydia sat down next to you.
~X~
You had no time to waste, as you drove around the house and parked the car right in front of the entrance to the house, not even caring that you would somewhat block the path for the kids. They could avoid the car, it didn't matter, you just had to be quick and find a way to rescue Astrid, so up to the stairs you drove.
“Y/N?! Where’s the rush? You're nearly drove into the house!” Rory exclaimed as he was on top of the stairs preparing to hand out the candy to the kids, but you just ran past him not really wasting a moment to stop and chat. You didn’t even turn the engine off, just parked the car.
Lydia gave him some excuse or whatever as you both rushed upstairs. She already told you where to go so you just grabbed the crowbar on the way upstairs and started removing the boards Delia and Lydia put there just an hour or so ago. By the time Lydia came up the stairs as well you were almost done and you both pulled the last wooden board out of the way and went into the attic and from that point on you could only watch her as she found the solution.
The first thing that caught your eye was the small scale model of Winter River, done in amazing detail, and if things were any different you would have spent hours studying it.
“I can't believe I'm doing this,” she took a deep breath. “Beetlejuice Beetlejuice Beetlejuice!” you had no idea what was going on as she repeated that word? Name? Whatever it was three times.
And then the freakiest thing happened the mist slash smoke surrounding the paranormal vanished from your vision as the zombie-looking guy with green hair and striped suits and rather unhealthy-looking skin emerged from the Winter River model. “The juice is loose,” he said and vanished, only to appear right next to Lydia.
“I need you to tell me what this means,” she skipped the formalities and just showed him the pages of the book she found in that room where Astrid was.
“Let's have a look,” he pulled out a magnifying glass. “Long story short, your daughter is screwed,” well, fuck! “She decided to trade lives with a boy, he gets to come back while she's stuck on the other side, permanently. One way ticket to the Soul Train,” this guy, Beetlejuice, explained and you were just absolutely confused about what was going on. Afterlife actually existed, and people could come back.
More importantly
 “She did what?! Why would she do that? Who does that?” you demanded. Astrid was smart! What did that ghost offer her to make her accept giving up her life? Or did he just outright trick her? “Shit, we need to get her back,” you turned away from Lydia and Beetlejuice and ran your hand through your hair, not even sure you would make it in time.
“The Soul Train?” Lydia asked for further explanations.
“That's right! The last stop, The Great Beyond,” he said and you just leaned back against the wall. Was there even anything you could do at this point? Astrid was on the other and you were over here in the living world. But then again Beetlejuice was from that other world. Was that why Lydia called him? Because he could somehow move the two of you into the world of the dead?
Wait, were you about to go into the world of the dead for Astrid? Not knowing the risks, or the consequences, or if it would be dangerous? You knew nothing about it, it was a complete unknown that you weren’t even sure existed five minutes ago!
Somehow you knew the answer was yes. You would take all those risks to take her back, because you plain and simple couldn’t live with yourself if you just let her die.
“Can we go in after her?” You asked as you once more turned toward Lydia and Beetlejuice.
“Quid pro quo, I want something in return,” while he replied to you he was looking at Lydia, as if he would only accept something from her.
Maybe those were the rules? Since she summoned him?
“Of course you do. What do you want?” Lydia asked ready to give him anything he asked for as long as it would save her daughter.
“Well I've got this ex-wife-“ Beetlejuice began and you've spent enough time with Delia and you knew a tangent when you saw one.
“Get to the point!” You exclaimed. Each second could be vital in keeping Astrid alive, and you did not want to waste it on his tangents.
“You want me to marry you,” Lydia knew what he wanted, and you just turned to look at her because what the fuck was that about? How would that even work? All of this was too much and the only reason you were keeping your sanity was because you had a goal in mind.
You weren’t sure you’d be keeping your sanity for much longer as so you watched this Beetlejuice act like getting married was Lydia's idea, like she just proposed to him because she wanted that. And then he made her sign some contract because apparently, he needed that in writing. You were in the most absurd situation possible and you half- expected to just wake up and see that everything was fine. Like this was all just a fever dream and you would wake up go to the work at the library you'd see Astrid there being annoying and being a Chihuahua and getting on your nerves and not on the way to swap lives with a ghost and die.
“What's the plan on getting in?” Lydia had enough of his bullshit as well and just demanded to know how you all would get in.  
Beetlejuice just vanished again and appeared in front of the wall, crouching and drawing a bomb with the fuse. He then just went and lit his thumb on fire. This was all absolutely ridiculous because the drawn fuse just lit on fire and the bomb exploded and instead of looking outside of the house you were looking into some office.
“Deetz, you're gonna be the death of me,” you said, ready to just go through.
“Trust me kid I know the feeling,” Beetlejuice said.
“I did not ask,” fuck it, you were going in, and you were not getting out without Astrid.
Taglist: @alexkolax @osnapitzmel1 @bee-keeping @nebthetautora @lololauser
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Masterlist / First part / Previous Part / Next Part
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clanwarrior-tumbly · 2 months ago
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Pressure reader finding a gun and now can and will defend themself from monster or execute other people for doing something dumb
I'm sorry but I saw this and decided to run with how finding a gun might actually go for a Prisoner!Reader /lh
..................
"Wow...guess somebody forgot to pick this up. Or maybe Sebastian got tired of me dying to those monsters all the time.."
Staring down at the weapon that was just laying on the floor, you looked around to see if any cameras were currently watching you. Of course, there was a singular one with a red light in the corner above the next door, aimed directly at your position.
They were always watching.
From the comfort and safety of their headquarters, they watched you get maimed by the creatures here over and over again. Whether it's a Wall Dweller sneaking up on you or Pandemonium ramming into the locker you're hiding in nonstop....they've seen it all.
So at this point, you didn't care that they could see your clear interest in the object on the ground.
One you were forbidden to take.
But to hell with them and their rules.
After all you've suffered through down here, you deserved to have some kind of self-defense tool that wasn't just a light source you had to conserve.
Why shouldn't you be allowed to protect yourself? They were going to kill all the creatures who escaped containment, anyways, so if you could kill them now, why not?
Unfortunately, HQ begged to differ, as the moment you crouched down to pick up the pistol, a familiar voice came onto the intercom:
"Do not touch the weapon. Leave it alone and it will be collected by authorized personnel later."
"...figures." You glared at the camera, standing up. "Why don't you tell your "authorized personnel" to put down those sea monsters instead?! I think I'm allowed to defend myself if-"
*pop*
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
"Back here again, are we?"
"Yeah..I guess.." Grumbling, you rubbed your neck as you looked up at the familiar trio of glowing blue eyes and angler lure. Even now, you still had a killer headache from the PDG detonation.
Then again, that was your own fault.
You didn't need to read the same document twice.
"I don't recommend defying them again. At least..not until you find a way to scramble their connection." Sebastian advised, sighing as he shook his head. "You gotta remember you have no rights down here. Neither of us do. It sucks but, we gotta deal with it."
"The IDS has gone haywire..but they're worried about me shooting through a glass window.." You huffed. "What if it wasn't even loaded?"
"Well I'm not sure if you know this, but prisoners and guns don't exactly go together. Just use what you've learned in the past to avoid the threats. It doesn't matter to them how "badly" you think you needed a firearm. You'll never get your hands on one, and I'm certainly not gonna sell any to you. Period."
"....I guess that pistol would've been useless if it didn't any rounds..."
"Anyway, here's what your overseer had to say on the matter. It's..kinda funny." Sebastian showed you another file, documenting your time and cause of death, along with a comment.
"The EXR-P stumbled across a small firearm that was left behind during the lockdown and defied direct orders to drop it, thinking they were an exception to the rule. This cannot happen again."
"Okay, that's bullshit. They're making it sound like I was an entitled asshole." You pointed out.
"Yeah, well, I can see why. Backtalking them is funny and all until your head pops. If you want them to take you seriously, you'll have to reach that crystal."
"Fine. I'll be a good little expendable and just focus on that." Putting a ferryman token on the table, you looked up at Sebastian. "Tell the guy downstairs I wanna continue where I was."
"Alright. Better not waste it." He swiped the coin, fading back into the darkness.
In the blink of an eye, you returned to the Blacksite, in the same room that you died in. It was clear of any blood that was left behind after your PDG went off, and of course..the pistol wasn't anywhere to be found.
It would have been useless anyways.
On the bright side, you did find a blacklight and some batteries in the drawers that you didn't check before, and you realized it's wiser to just use them to protect yourself.
'Okay. Let's just play it safe and keep going.'
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floylia · 6 months ago
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ELYSIAN ♫
18. Am I wrong? ✎
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“So my manager leaked my information.” It’s not a question anymore.
Scara nods apologetically as if he was at fault, eyes gleaming with genuine sincerity. This is the third time, he’s been vulnerable with you. He guides you up the cobblestone path, leading you closer to the Estate’s courtyard. The sun has already grazed its goodbye, only the moon rests above, gleaming at you and Scara. The darkness along the trees, shrubs, and boulders around the garden is eerie but something about his presence soothes your worries—something about his rare smile, hushed voice, and messy hair.
Perhaps it’s everything about him.
You pause in your tracks, watching over the waves on the beach—hands on the wooden fences standing around the courtyard, “Do you think they’ll believe me?”
“They’ll believe you once you tell your side.”
Doubt lingers, “What if they don’t?”
“Then they’re all fuck heads with no hobbies,” He swerves his head, now facing you with narrow eyes, and brows pulled together, “It’s stupid, how some of them graduated with degrees but have no basic sense of empathy or respect. They’re all entitled, gullible, and hypocritical assholes who use every opportunity to deflect their insecurities on others. It’s a crazy world we live in.”
The scowl on his face is almost laughable—how angry at the world he is on your behalf. You take note of Scara's wrath, experiencing it is not for the weak. Although, you don’t need to worry. His patience for you seems limitless.
“I can’t believe Jean lets you handle your social media accounts. You have no filter.”
He scoffs, “She doesn’t, but I find my way. They have to change the password every other week or else I might be permanently banned on every platform.”
You chuckle at his smug expression, “I want your confidence.”
“You already have it, you just need to use it.”
You avoid his gaze, “You sure do have a lot of faith in me.”
“Because I believe in you.”
For how long? You heard those same words before and they never kept their promises. Your agency, your manager. It was blind trust. Funny how life works.
“You blindly trusted me.”
You didn’t mean to say that. But it can’t be helped. What if one day you disappoint him? Will he leave too, like your manager? Or your fans?
“I knew you wouldn’t do that.”
No he didn’t. What did he know?
“There’s always a possibility—“
“But you didn’t and that’s what matters,” He sighs before running a hand through his hair, “Am I wrong for trusting you?”
You shake your head in guilt, realizing you let your doubts slip. Overthinking kills the mood, “It’s just that—“
“Am I wrong for wanting to be with you?” His voice softened.
You squint your eyes, unsure of what he means. You open your mouth to say something, anything to fill the silence, but nothing comes out.
So he inches forward, his left hand rests on your cheek, the other latches down to your waist, gentle and warm—you lean in to his touch, “Is it wrong to be this close?”
“No but—“
“For once please,” He sounds desperate, “Fuck what they think, focus on me and you. They can all go to hell.”
“So tell me: Is it wrong to need you at every moment?”
Once again you shake your head, this time with no interruptions.
“Is it wrong to be with you? To wake up every morning knowing I’m yours—knowing I can flirt shamelessly without doubting your feelings? Knowing I can write songs about you without hiding my love. Knowing I can feed you my favorite dishes without asking: am I doing too much? Or buy you things that remind me of you because not a single day goes by without your presence in my fucked up head.”
You feel tears welling up in your eyes. Everything is blurry but your gaze remains on Scara. Only him, because it has always been him.
“Am I wrong for feeling this way?” He whispers softly—so gentle that you want to apologize for trying to push him away.
You wrap your arms around his neck, “Kiss me.”
“Can I really?”
“Please.”
He does.
He does like his life depends on it.
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Notes:
im on vacation but nothing will stop me from writing 😃
sorry for grammatical errors or spelling mistakes
Synopsis: After 7 years of enduring the media’s relentless pursuit of painting you as a villain, you’re forced to go through an indefinite hiatus with a tainted reputation on your head. However, just when you thought your career was over, a certain 5WIRL member wants you to feature on his solo career. Surely, this won’t affect your reputation once more, would it?
Scaramouche x fem!reader
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