#back after five million years
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doodling-junebug · 9 months ago
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a couple who binds together grinds together
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timid-owl · 2 years ago
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For some time now been thinking about vashwood pirate au where vash is a pirate captain - or more like a captain of a pirate ship, 'cause he just wants to help people and been sorta stede bonneting his way through the seas but the royal navy and the locals have a diffrent opinion, and Vash is exceptionally tallented with a pistol so at some point you just have to go with the flow.
Also one day he stumbles upon a catholic priest Wolfwood who's been captured by the dutch/spanish/french whomever for some sketchy reason. Vash attemps saving him but the dutch have some real fine canons and the priest is quite good with swords and also has the biggest musket vash has ever seen so he kinda ends up rescuing vash instead.
(Here is where we take a minute of silence to appreciate Wolfwood in a loose shirt open to there, possibly with one shoulder off while he's tied up to a mast or smth thank you)
So anyway they end up dutch-free and on the same ship so they stick together until the next port, and then some other shit happens at the port as well, and they have to flee and well they just stick together in general after that.
Although wolfwood is obviously not (only) a priest but a bounty hunter hired by Nai to bring Vash back to their home country, where the twins are crown princes and nai's planning to use vash in his cunning schemes, possibly to acces the throne and decalre a righteous bloody crusade onto their neighbours, which Vash doesn't approve much.
(They also had to go through some traumatic horrors as kids, like maybe their parents where dethroned and decapitated in whatever Fronde terrors and Nai is like Revenge but Vash is more like No Thank You Bie Bie)
Anyways back to Wolfwood who is of course not particularly successful in his main mission, 'cause vash is kind and gentle and rubs Wolfwood's moronosexuality just the right way, and also the beauty mark under his eye makes Ww reflect on the nature of sin quite a lot.
In their errands they are of course accompanied by Maryl, a young girl from a noble family, who fled her home to become an explorer and publish her research (that she has yet to conduct tho) in cartography or botanics. She also happens to be rather good at navigation so she helps them not to crush every ship they possess. She comes in package with Roberto, a memeber of the Research Society whom the advising council Strongly Advised(tm) to accompany the young lady. He has published like a couple of decent papers but he also use to be a navy surgeon sooo he patches them up and refills the rhum supplies which is a nice bonus
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t4tdanvis · 1 year ago
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Laurence tries hugging Dante and he promptly bursts into tears
laurance is trying to be nicer to dante but the fact that dante doesnt hate him at all make it even harder somehow. like he cant apologize because dante will just go "no no you havent done anything wrong, IM sorry" and laurance just. doesnt know what to say to that. anytime he tries to show affection to dante, dante just starts crying and then feels bad and apologizes for it. which just makes laurance feel worse
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downfallofi · 5 months ago
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Forgive me, thought not complete, need more tags
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mihotose · 11 months ago
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well i forgor to change my address on my licence when we moved and it does kind of feel like a trap if im filling out the form to change it and it asks me when i moved
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infiniteglitterfall · 11 months ago
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know someone who enjoys horror stories? share this one! it's true!
hahahahahahahahahaha aarrggghhhhhhhhhh 3,000,000 deaths due to COVID-19 last year. Globally. Three million. Case rates higher than 90% of the rest of the pandemic. The reason people are still worried about COVID is because it has a way of quietly fucking up your body. And the risk is cumulative.
I'm going to say that again: the risk is cumulative.
It's not just that a lot of people get bad long-term effects from it. One in seven or so? Enough that it's kind of the Russian Roulette of diseases. It's also that the more times you get it, the higher that risk becomes. Like if each time you survived Russian Roulette, the empty chamber was removed from the gun entirely. The worst part is that, psychologically, we have the absolute opposite reaction. If we survive something with no ill effects, we assume it's pretty safe. It is really, really hard to override that sense of, "Ok, well, I got it and now I probably have a lot of immunity and also it wasn't that bad." It is not a respiratory disease. Airborne, yes. Respiratory disease, no: not a cold, not a flu, not RSV.
Like measles (or maybe chickenpox?), it starts with respiratory symptoms. And then it moves to other parts of your body. It seems to target the lungs, the digestive system, the heart, and the brain the most.
It also hits the immune system really hard - a lot of people are suddenly more susceptible to completely unrelated viruses. People get brain fog, migraines, forget things they used to know.
(I really, really hate that it can cross the blood-brain barrier. NOTHING SHOULD EVER CROSS THE BLOOD-BRAIN BARRIER IT IS THERE FOR A REASON.) Anecdotal examples of this shit are horrifying. I've seen people talk about coworkers who've had COVID five or more times, and now their work... just often doesn't make sense? They send emails that say things like, "Sorry, I didn't mean Los Angeles, I meant Los Angeles."
Or they insist they've never heard of some project that they were actually in charge of a year or two before.
Or their work is just kind of falling apart, and they don't seem to be aware of it.
People talk about how they don't want to get the person in trouble, so their team just works around it. Or they describe neighbors and relatives who had COVID repeatedly, were nearly hospitalized, talked about how incredibly sick they felt at the time... and now swear they've only had it once and it wasn't bad, they barely even noticed it.
(As someone who lived with severe dissociation for most of my life, this is a genuinely terrifying idea to me. I've already spent my whole life being like, "but what if I told them that already? but what if I did do that? what if that did happen to me and I just don't remember?") One of its known effects in the brain is to increase impulsivity and risk-taking, which is real fucking convenient honestly. What a fantastic fucking mutation. So happy for it on that one. Yes, please make it seem less important to wear a mask and get vaccinated. I'm not screaming internally at all now.
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I saw a tweet from someone last year whose family hadn't had COVID yet, who were still masking in public, including school.
She said that her son was no kind of an athlete. Solidly bottom middle of the pack in gym.
And suddenly, this year, he was absolutely blowing past all the other kids who had to run the mile. He wasn't running any faster. His times weren't fantastic or anything. It's just that the rest of the kids were worse than him now. For some reason. I think about that a lot. (Like my incredibly active six-year-old getting a cold, and suddenly developing post-viral asthma that looked like pneumonia.
He went back to school the day before yesterday, after being home for a month and using preventative inhalers for almost week.
He told me that it was GREAT - except that he couldn't run as much at recess, because he immediately got really tired. Like how I went outside with him to do some yard work and felt like my body couldn't figure out how to increase breathing and heart rate.
I wasn't physically out of breath, but I felt like I was out of breath. That COVID feeling people describe, of "I'm not getting enough air." Except that I didn't have that problem when I had COVID.) Some people don't observe any long (or medium) term side effects after they have it.
But researchers have found viral reservoirs of COVID-19 in everyone they've studied who had it.
It just seems to hang out, dormant, for... well, longer than we've had an opportunity to observe it, so far.
(I definitely watched that literal horror movie. I think that's an entire genre. The alien dormant under ice in the Arctic.)
(oh hey I don't like that either!!!!!!!!!) All of which is to explain why we should still care about avoiding it, and how it manages to still cause excess deaths. Measuring excess deaths has been a standard tool in public health for a long time.
We know how many people usually die from all different causes, every year. So we can tell if, for example, deaths from heart disease have gone way up in the past three years, and look for reasons. Those are excess deaths: deaths that, four years ago, would not have happened. During the pandemic, excess death rates have been a really important tool. For all sorts of reasons. Like, sometimes people die from COVID without ever getting tested, and the official cause is listed as something else because nobody knows they had COVID. But also, people are dying from cardiovascular illness much younger now.
People are having strokes and heart attacks younger, and more often, than they did before the pandemic started. COVID causes a lot of problems. And some of those problems kill people. And some of them make it easier for other things to kill us. Lung damage from COVID leading to lungs collapsing, or to pneumonia, or to a pulmonary embolism, for example. The Economist built a machine-learning model with a 95% confidence interval that gauges excess death statistics around the world, to tell them what the true toll of the ongoing COVID pandemic has been so far.
Total excess deaths globally in 2023: Three million.
3,000,000.
Official COVID-19 deaths globally so far: Seven million. 7,000,000. Total excess deaths during COVID so far: Thirty-five point two million. 35,200,000.
Five times as many.
That's bad. I don't like that at all. I'm glad last year was less than a tenth of that. I'm not particularly confident about that continuing, though, because last year we started a period of really high COVID transmission. Case rates higher than 90% of the rest of the pandemic. Here's their data, and charts you can play with, and links to detailed information on how they did all of this:
Here's a non-paywalled link to it:
https://archive.vn/2024.01.26-012536/https://www.economist.com/graphic-detail/coronavirus-excess-deaths-estimates
Oh: here's a link to where you can buy comfy, effective N95 masks in all sizes:
Those ones are about a buck each after shipping - about $30 for a box of 30. They also have sample packs for a dollar, so you can try a couple of different sizes and styles.
You can wear an N95 mask for about 40 total hours before the effectiveness really drops, so that's like a dollar for a week of wear.
They're also family-owned and have cat-shaped masks and I really love them. These ones are cuter and in a much wider range of colors, prints, and styles, but they're also more expensive; they range from $1.80 to $3 for a mask. ($18-$30 for a box of ten.)
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fishofthewoods · 9 months ago
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I see a lot of people clowning on the people of Pelican Town for not repairing the community center themselves or clowning on Lewis for embezzling and. like. Those criticisms aren't entirely unfair. But I think instead of coming at it from a perspective of "why can't the townspeople do this" we should be asking "why and how can the farmer do this?"
Like. Think about it. The farmer arrives in Stardew Valley on the first day of spring. By the first day they're obviously different. By day five the spirits of the forest who haven't been seen by the townsfolk in years or generations are speaking to them. By the second week they've developed a rapport with the wizard that lives outside town.
In the spring they go foraging and find more than even Linus, who's spent so many years learning the ways of the valley. Maybe he knows, when he sees them walking back home. Maybe he looks at them and understands that they're different, chosen somehow.
In the summer they fish in the lakes and the ocean for hours on end, catching fish that even Willy's only ever heard of, fish that he thought were the stuff of legend. They pull up giants from the deep and mutated monstrosities from the sewers.
In the fall, their crops grow incredibly immense; pumpkins twice as tall as a person, big enough that someone could live inside. The farmer cuts it down with an axe without even batting an eye. Does Lewis wonder, when he checks the collection bin that night and finds it full to the brim with pumpkin flesh? What does he think? Does he even leave the money? Does he have the funds to pay the farmer millions of dollars for the massive amounts of wine they sell? Or is it someone--something--else entirely?
In the winter, the farmer delves into the mines. No one in Pelican Town has been down there in decades. No one in living memory has been to the bottom. The farmer gets there within the season. They return to the surface with stories of dwarven ruins and shadow people, stories they only tell to Vincent and Jas, whose retellings will be dismissed by the adults as flights of fancy. People walking by the entrance to the mines sometimes hear the farmer in there, speaking in a language no one can understand. Something speaks back.
The farmer speaks to the the wizard. They speak to the spirit of a bear inside a centuries-old stone. They speak to the shadow people and the dwarves, ancient enemies, and they try to mend the rift. They speak to the Junimos, ancient spirits of the forest and the river and the mountain. They taste the nectar of the stardrops and speak to the valley itself. They change Pelican Town, and they change the valley. Things are waking up.
And what does Evelyn think? She's the oldest person in the valley; she was here when the farmer's grandfather was young. (How old *is* she, anyway? She never seems to age. She doesn't remember the year she was born.) Does she see the farmer and think of their grandfather? Does she try to remember if he was like this too, strange and wild and given the gifts of the forest?
And does their grandfather haunt the valley? He haunts the farm, still there even after his death; his body died somewhere else, but his spirit could never stay away for long. Does Abigail, using her ouija board on a stormy night, almost drop the planchette when she realizes it's moving on its own? Does Shane, walking to work long before anyone else leaves their house, catch glimpses of a wispy figure floating through the town? Does the farmer know their grandfather came back to the place they both love so much?
Mr. Qi takes interest in the farmer. He's different, too; in a different way, maybe, but the principles are the same. They're both exceptional, and no matter what Qi says about it being hard work and dedication, they both know the truth: the world bends around the both of them, changing to fit their needs. Most people aren't visited by fairies or witches. Most people don't have meteorites crash in their yard. Most people couldn't chop down trees all day without a break or speak to bears and mice and frogs.
The farmer is different. The rules of the world don't work for them the way they work for everyone else. The farmer goes fishing and finds the stuff of fairy tales. The farmer goes mining and fights shadow beasts and flying snakes. The farmer looks at paths the townspeople walk every day and finds buried in the dirt relics of lost civilizations.
The farmer is a violent, irrepressible miracle, chosen by the valley and destined to return to it someday. Even if they'd never received the letter, they would've come home.
They always come home eventually.
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bunny-jpeg · 1 month ago
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thinking about older brother’s best friend!max who takes little innocent virgin you home after you got too drunk at a party. you trust him so much and he’s sooo dreamy but you can’t figure out how you ended up in his lap with his fingers up your miniskirt, other hand locked around your neck and skimpy lace thong stuffed in your mouth. but you don’t want to annoy him when he’s finally paying attention to you, so you furiously nod and drool when he tells you to be his good girl, his stupid little slut, and bullies his big, aching cock into your pussy. it’s soo wet and sticky but it doesn’t matter cause maxie promised he was wearing a condom…right? Right?
thank you so much for sending this to me! this is a crazy ass prompt and i love it. thank you so much! and for the people at home, send me your shit! i love insane prompts to write! give them to me, i need to write! i went with the tried and trued method of a leclerc!reader so add a little extra zest to it. i changed a few things around so i hope that's okay, all the pieces are still there just a few tweaks!! i hope you enjoy <3
max verstappen
cw: smut/pwp, leclerc!reader, drunk sex, dubious consent, lying, unprotected sex, size difference/kink, crybaby!reader, dark-ish fic, missionary position, fingering, (slight) choking, (technical) virgin!reader, filth(!!!)
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"thank you so much for doing this. i told her not to go out tonight because i was out of town and couldn't get her if she needed help. you're a big help, mate. i owe you." charles' voice was clear on the other end of the phone.
max was grabbing his keys, "you owe me nothing, charles. i'm happy to help. wasn't up to much else tonight." he got his shoes on and headed out the door, "i'll let you know when i get her." then hung up the phone.
he got in his car and drove to the club you were supposed to be. max had known you for about as long as he had known charles, you were the curious little thing that liked being around your brother. you were close in age, but max hadn't seen you in years.
charles said that university had prevented you from ever really hanging around as much as you used to. which was a shame because max always thought you were cute, even if you were a little bit a cry baby.
he pulled up to the address of where you were supposed to be and got out of the car. it was late into the evening and there were a few people outside. the sight of him turned a few heads and some whispers. but he had to pick you out of the crowd.
he leaned against the car and did the tried and true method of finding a leclerc. he cupped his hands around his mouth and said, "hey! leclerc!"
and then as it had worked a million times with charles over the years, your voice rang out, "holy shit, max! what are you doing here?" and you got out of the crowd in front of the club.
that was when max's heart stopped.
he remembered you in your high school uniform and baggy t-shirts with various bands on them. he remembered when you had braces and that bad haircut in tenth year. but, now, are a twenty-something year old woman, you were beautiful.
you practically stumbled over to him, you tripped over the curb and against his chest. but you clung to the front of his t-shirt, "oh my god, it's you!" you howled laughter, "where's charlie?"
max steadied you back on your feet and looked over you to see the other people who were murmuring. he looked down at you, his hands still on your shoulders, "i'm going to take you back to my place tonight." even though charles said to bring you back to his place, there would be a slight detour.
plus, what if something happened? max needed to protect you, or at least he had self appointed himself with the role.
"god, i haven't seen you in like what, five years? still got those chubby cheeks though." you giggled drunkenly as you pinched at his face.
max could feel the heat rise in his face, didn't help that your plump breasts were pressed against him and he got a good view of your cleavage. he said to you, "c'mon, let's get out of here." he gave you a smile, "i think we're turning too many heads."
you nodded innocently before max helped you into the car. even going as far as to buckle to you in and closing the door. as he rounded the car he exhaled deeply, this was not what he was expecting.
you looked at him and giggled, "holy shit, it's actually you. why are you picking me up? i called charlie?"
max sighed and buckled himself in, he patted your knee, "how much have you had to drink? your brother is out of the country for most of the summer break."
a few seconds ticked by before you made an 'o' shape with your mouth, you snapped your fingers and pointed to max, "i was supposed to call lorenzo!"
max's eyebrows knitted together, "how much have you had to drink?"
you shrugged, "i don't know. there was this nice guy who kept buying me drinks and he was like super nice. but then, my friends kinda got me away from him and told me to call my brother and i said, 'which one?', because you know. i have three brothers and i don't very well want arthur to see me THIS drunk so i called charles... but i wasn't supposed to call charles, i was supposed to call lorenzo."
max wanted to kiss you really badly at that moment. and when he squeezed your thigh for reassurance, you moaned. then max's brain went silent for a moment.
you looked at each other and you felt the heat rise in your cheeks as you said, "sorry.... over sensitive." you licked your lips, "you can still hold my thigh if you want."
this was going to be a long night, and max wanted to see how deep this could go. after all, you both had about five years to make up.
"i hate being this drunk." you whined, as you padded across his home. you were out of the skimpy dress you wore to the club, much to max's pleasure. you looked better in no bra, one of his t-shirts and his socks that you pulled as high as they could go, "i wish i could stop being drunk the moment i got home."
he was on the couch, a glass of water and some tylonel was on the table. he patted his thigh and suggested, "i think i know something that can help." his brain had been trying to think of a clever way to get you closer to him, but you were too easy.
"water and rest?" you asked as you got closer to him. your arms across your chest.
he leaned back into the sofa a little and said, "no. why don't you come here to find out?" he could tell in the slight wave of your stance that you were still quite drunk. he chuckled as he watched you come over to him, were all leclercs curious like cats?
you perched yourself on his thigh and he pulled you into his lap. being so close to you made his cock throb in his jeans. you yelped and admitted, "i'm a virgin!"
"what?"
you looked at him so innocently it almost broke the driver's brain in half. you had your hands up near your face and your bottom lip was wobbling, "i've... i've never had sex before. i mean... i technically let a guy finger me." you swallowed, not knowing why you were admitting this, "but.. but he didn't even make me cum, i lied to him and faked it."
max's hungry gaze remained on you, "so... so no one's actually... had sex with you."
you looked like you were going to cry. you were in your twenties and a virgin (he wasn't going to acknowledge the curl of jealousy in his gut at the thought of some loser at your school poorly trying to finger you). that had all the lights going off in max's brain.
leclerc's little sister was a virgin, drunk and on the verge of tears in max's condo. shivering like a leaf. max never thought of himself in terms of animals, but at moment he felt like a big scary lion. and you a poor little deer. the signature leclerc doe eyes only added to his point.
"it's alright." he said, "how about this, you let me finger you properly. i don't think your technical first time should've been spent with you faking an orgasm."
you had to admit, you had feelings for max. when you were younger and your brother would race him, you'd follow him around afterwards asking about max. it annoyed the hell out of your brother.
even the guy who fingered you was almost an exact fit to max, the blond-brown hair, blue eyes and a big nose. but it didn't quite cut it. max had been the subject of your fantasies for years now.
you blushed, "i mean... i don't want to force you or anything. i don't want it to be a pity fuck."
he laughed and curled a strong arm around you, "no, no, not you. to make you cum would be an honour." catch more flies with honey than vinegar. catch the pretty sister of a fellow driver with soft words.
he got your panties off with a little help and put them in your mouth. the sight of your mouth full of your lacy thong made all the blood in his body pool into his cock. he brushed your cheek and chuckled at your lack of resistance, "aw, does someone like to be roughed up? i bet you're just so used to everyone treating you like glass. the only daughter." he cupped your pussy with his wide hand, "how would charles feel about this? or lorenzo? they'd have my head." he kissed at your neck.
you whined, liquor swam in your head still as you squirmed a little, "don't talk about my brothers while you're fingering me." you tried to say around the panties in your mouth.
max grazed his fingers across your pussy, "alright, alright." his breath was hot in your ear as his other hand came and was placed around your throat. he shuddered a little, oh you were just a perfect fit weren't you?
now max really had to make sure that you weren't going to run off to your private university and fooled around with other boys.
maybe a baby would have to do.
he held you close to him by the throat and played with your pussy. soon he sank two digits into you and you whined around the panties in your mouth. you felt a hot flash go through you.
this was totally different, you felt the pleasure bloom in your gut as he roughly fingered you. you held onto his wrists, but remained pressed to him as he occasionally rubbed his clothed erection against your backside.
"oh, you're beautiful." he said softly, "you are so painfully beautiful. i'm surprised you haven't made yourself a whore at school. why? scared that your brothers would kill whoever touched their sister?" he kissed your cheek as he heard your whimper.
your body felt loose and your brain felt like it was working overtime. it was beyond adorable, the little cry baby with tears in her eyes. don't worry, max will make it all better.
"but you don't want anyone else, do you? you wanna be my good girl? you know so little about sex, poor thing. but don't worry, i'll make you a nice little whore for my cock." he pressed on your throat a little harder as he really started to work his fingers inside of you.
you didn't know what to think, everything around you felt oppressive but the liquor and lust short-wired your brain. you nodded and tried to speak around the fabric in your mouth, but it all came out like a jumbled mess.
max could feel the heat rise in his body, his cock grew more stiff. he liked the sight of this. you in his clothes, letting him explore your body. you were untouched territory. all for max's taking.
you wanted to cover your face from the embarrassment of being finger-fucked by your crush. but max squeezed your throat a little tighter.
"don't hide yourself from me, i want to see it all." he pressed a hard kiss onto your shoulder and watched your shudder. your pussy clenched around his fingers which only spurred him to keep bullying them into you.
you whined something around the panties in your mouth and max continued his kisses. you felt amazing on him. he hissed against your back as you hit your climax and whined loudly. you coated his entire hand in your wetness.
max moved you by your neck and kissed you on the cheek, he said, "good girl. see, orgasms aren't that hard." he let go of your throat and took the panties out of your mouth.
you were panting heavily as you said, "holy shit." your heart was hammering and you felt hot all over. you felt his arms around you waist and his mouth in your ear.
"we're not done yet." he said.
before you knew it, you were on max's bed. the shirt you had borrowed was on the floor and your bra was right next to it. when max took off your socks, you whined and he pressed all his weight on top of you. leaving one sock left on you.
he was naked on top of you, his cheeks were pink and he felt hot all over. you could see your eye bug out a little from the sight of his naked body. he pulled away soon after and grabbed you by the hips then rubbed his hard cock against your slick pussy.
"i wish your brother brought you to the track more." he chuckled as he continued to rub up against you, "you would've been so cute hanging around, you were always so curious. but, i don't know if i could contain myself if you were around often."
you blushed, "oh c'mon, stop it, max. you're going to kill me!"
max was over you, "i would never do that. i like you very much alive. you're perfect. i think it would be the best strategy your brother ever did if he had you around the paddock. i'd have to fight off every other driver to get to you."
you admitted, "i'd only want you, max."
max grinned, "is that why you're letting me take your virginity? giving yourself over to me? i bet a part of you wished i showed up, maybe that was all the plan for you." he pressed the tip of his cock up against your entrance, "someone has a crush." he was teasing, but the look on your face showed that he had you all figured out.
you squeaked, "i do! i'm sorry! i've had one for years!" you looked like you were going to cry again.
max almost came from the sight before him, he swallowed to keep himself together as he reached for your face with one hand and looked into your eyes, "you like me."
in your inebriated state you replied, "more like love you."
he chuckled, "really now? after all the times i beat your brother, you had all these feelings for me." he pressed his chest up against you, as he guided his cock into your slick slit.
you clutched onto his shoulders and tried not too tense up too much. this was a wet dream come true. you croaked, "i've always have."
"well, aren't i lucky." he said as he kissed you gently, "taking the virginity of the most beautiful woman i've ever seen." he was a snug fit in you but, he peppered your cheeks with kisses to help relax you. thankfully you were painfully wet.
he felt a curl of possession in his gut. like he needed to have you by his side. it wouldn't be hard to convince charles to let the two of you date, even if he was protective of you. he knew that max was a good man, he'd be a loving, caring boyfriend. maybe even an eventual husband.
he moved his hips slowly, not to push too much on you at once. you were still painfully drunk, all of these were admissions under intoxication. the consent of the situation was murky at best, but the way you looked at he pushed his cock into you excited him.
"do you want this?" he asked.
you nodded, your gaze unfocused, "of course. why, why would you ask that?" you really were so cute. your brain was polluted with liquor and pleasure, maybe he should've put you to bed before this all got out of hand.
but in all fairness, max was a little too far gone. he always held feelings for you, he was just better at covering them up. but, as he thrusted into you, your legs around his waist as he rutted against you. it was like the little flame from his youth came alive into an inferno.
oh, this was the woman he was meant to marry.
he kissed you once more, and picked up the pace. he held your sides, feeling your warmth against him as he felt the intense feelings bloom in your chest. call him an obsessive freak, but he should've known all those years ago.
stupid teen max, look what was right in front of him! you two could've been married by now. had a family and everything. but as he was balls deep inside of you, he believed everything happened for a reason.
you were now in his arms, under him as he moved against you. the blunt end of his cock, hit against the beginning of your cervix. a promise of what was to come. that you'd get nice and pregnant by him.
by the time he was finished with you, you were going to be at least five percent dutch if not more, you two had a whole week together. this was just the start. you two lazily made out.
the lust throbbed in your head as the liquor still coursed through your system. your mouth felt dry but you couldn't do much else but lie under him. his kisses were domineering and strong. his cock was buried up inside of you like it belonged there.
he believed that you two were two halves of a same whole. he wish he had gotten a glimpse of you sooner. seen how much you matured, he melted a little at the feeling of you. beyond perfect for him.
the pleasure was getting to your head, even in your intoxicated state. you clung to him like a life line as he moved against you. your sweet noises and that your eyes were barely open.
"beautiful." he said, "and all mine."
you swallowed, "you're wearing a condom, right?"
he staggered in his pace for a moment, but he gave you best media smile as he lied through his teeth, "of course, can't have any accidents." he kissed you once more. and you just melted into it so easily.
you then let out a sweet noise as you felt orgasm grip you. you panted heavily as the lust flooded your brain. you held onto him tightly as he continued to move against you. this all felt like a dream, and the noises you made as you came had max panting heavily.
"please."
"i need you." you said with tears in your eyes. the orgasm has torn through you and you were left a sputtering, hot mess under him.
he continued to rut against you, his pace was erratic as he moved against you. his heart raced at the sight of you. he was fully gone for you, he wanted you. tomorrow and the day after that and the day after that. he wanted his cock buried in your sweet pussy.
it was fine, obviously there was a connection. he just had to seal the deal, and with a few more strokes of his cock. he was putting all of his weight on top of him. he finished inside of you and you made a small pathetic noise.
"fuck." he groaned.
you whined, "please, max."
when he pulled away, he wasn't away long. he soon pulled you in for a searing hot kiss while he let his cock stay inside of you for a moment longer. to feel the closeness. you were a lucky girl, you were now max's newest obsession.
he licked the bead of sweat off your neck, his cock twitched inside of you. perfect.
he curled up beside you soon after, his grip on you was possessive at the least and obsessive at the most. he felt like a lion with prey between its jaws, not biting hard enough to kill it. but just to keep it still. you were a sweet little thing in his arms.
maybe it was smart for you not to be around the track as much because of school, because if max had gotten a glimpse of the little crybaby leclerc all grown up, you two would've already been married by now.
but don't worry, be a good girl and you'll have a pretty ring in your future. the thoughts pooled in max's gut and made his softening cock twitch a little.
before he could go another round with you, you were fast asleep next to him. your soft snoring could be felt in his chest. he may have had to a little lying and manipulating before, but he wasn't going to fuck that sweet cunt while you were asleep.
he wasn't a monster. but that didn't mean he got out of your sleepy grasp and grabbed his phone from his jeans pocket to take some photos. not to share of course, he doesn't share. they'll be for his personal collection when you eventually go limping back to your brother.
come morning you were wrapped up in max's arms. you woke up with a throbbing headache and the sun that came through the window made you want to die. when you tried to wiggle in his grasp, he held on tighter.
he kissed you on the back of the neck, "good morning."
the sound of his low voice was like a shock to your system as you woke up quicker. you looked over your shoulder at him and swallowed. last night was barely pieced together. but you were naked next to him under the covers with one of his cats scratching at the door demanding breakfast.
when you tried to pull away he only pulled you back to him. your back against his broad chest. he said, "you're not getting away that easily." he rested his head on your shoulder, his arms around you tightened.
"what happened last night?" you croaked.
"ah don't worry. just tell your brother your safe and sound. you can stay here until he gets back home." he rubbed his cock up against your behind, "a woman like you shouldn't be alone in a city like this. lots of bad men out there that could hurt you."
"but not you?" you felt something bloom in your chest. the familiar pang from your youth.
he kissed your jaw and said, "of course. i'll always keep you safe." as if his cum wasn't dried to your inner thigh. but don't worry, he'll freshen it up once that pesky headache of yours is gone. after all, your sweet older brother was gone for another week.
-
"you know." charles said sometime later, he was in max's drivers room picking at the food on the table, "i feel like i should kill you for fucking my sister."
max was seated across from him, one leg over the other. he smirked, "and what's stopping you?"
charles shrugged, "i don't have to hear her talk about you all the time. i mean, at least i can vouch for you. you are practically family, better than some random guy that she met at school." he looked at his fellow driver, "will not forgive you for getting her pregnant though. and outside of marriage too. you should've heard our mother when she told her." he rubbed his forehead.
max chuckled, "well that'll be dealt with after the season. it feels wrong scheduling it between races. she deserves a lovely wedding."
"good, good. and i better see my nephew! we live in the same city, you better not lock her away!" charles shook his finger at max.
max laughed, "don't worry don't worry. but i cannot promise that he race for monaco when he grows up." then winked at his fellow driver (and future brother in law).
in the end, max hobbled together a narrative of the night you spent together. which led to a week together, which led to you getting pregnant by him. no one could've suspected that he could ever hurt a hair on your head. he was too in love with you, almost to an obsessive degree. he took your virginity and now you were taking his last name. <3
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gojorgeous · 9 months ago
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you meet satoru when his class comes to America for a two-week exchange program. You’re part of the corresponding class year, so it’s your and your classmate’s job to show them around and make them feel… welcome.
It takes him all of two seconds after seeing you to decide you’re his wife.
You’re the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen. You’re smart, you’re strong, you’re THAT girl. He needs you.
The next two weeks are spent like teenagers. You manage to get Shoko in a dress and a full face of makeup and you get a few shots of vodka in the boys and suddenly you’re out dancing at any club that’ll let you in. The nights are fun, the days are even better. You and your friends take them to every good restaurant in the city and to every park and coffee shop.
You know satoru likes you. It’s obvious. Every time his eyes land on yours you practically see hearts. But… you ignore it. It would never work, anyway. You’re not interested in a one night stand and he’s going back to Japan. And even if he did want a real relationship, his clan would never approve of you. He’s Satoru Gojo and you’re a first generation sorcerer from bum-fuck nowhere with no money or status and nothing to offer but a pretty smile.
That’s what you think until he’s scheduled to be getting back on his plane and instead he’s down on one knee in front of you, begging you to come back with him to Japan and… marry him?
You call him crazy. You’re 18. You live on two different continents. It’s only been two weeks. You-
He cuts you off before you can go any further, telling you to please, “just listen”. Before you know it, he’s sliding a massive rock onto your finger and telling you that you can have… a trial period. Come back to Japan with him, live with him for a year. He’ll pay for everything, buy everything, and he’ll wire five million dollars into your account right now as a “safety net”. If you’re not satisfied with his performance at any time, you’re free to leave.
You’re crying, telling him this is a stupid idea, that his clan won’t approve, that the entirety of jujutsu society won’t approve… and yet you still find yourself saying, “yes”.
The next time you call home you have a lot of explaining to do.
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lunamugetsu · 11 months ago
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Danny is a house husband.
That's it, that's all it is.
As the years went on. Danny retired from being a superhero. There was no need for Phantom when the GIW were dealt with and all the ghosts were under control.
Now what's left for him to do but to just sit back, relax, and finally be able to live his life.
Sam and Tucker on the other hand....
Well, they had plenty of pent up rage, wits, and chaos inside their mind to become villains.
But they had one rule.
Never bring work home and to never involve Danny in any of their supervillain business.
Okay that's technically two rules, but they're kind of synonymous especially since Danny has been taking care of their house while also entertaining himself with trying new hobbies.
Tucker and Sam both make sure that they never bring any of their villainy home to Danny, because all they want is for Danny to enjoy his happy hero retirement.
And Danny in turn, doesn't bat an eye when watching the news and seeing that there were magical plants that were attacking sites that oil companies were digging or that somehow Lex Luthor had lost five hundred million dollars and had somehow leaked records showing he was building weapons of mass destruction.
He also doesn't bat an eye when he sees that Tucker had brought home a telescope that definitely looks like it came from some fancy lab because hey, Tucker was making him an observatory so he can look at the stars and planets. While also how they were able to make a great gaming pc with computer parts that are definitely not sold in stores, because hey at least the newest update of Doomed wasn't lagging.
Or that Sam comes home with various plants and animals that are definitely not from planet earth, but hey the three headed wolf-lizard-eagle- hybrid thing (that Danny has affectionately named Fluffy) is pretty great at keeping the pests away from his vegetable garden and likes to eat any of Danny's new food creations and is a great playmate for Cujo.
So you can imagine how the Justice League thinks when dealing with the pair of new villains: Upload (Tucker) and Sam (I could not think of a villain name that would suit her, so it's up to you what you think her villain name would be)
And how they were currently wreaking havoc in the city either by cyber warfare with robots or by magic plant monster or a Frankenstein of both approaches. The heroes had all evacuated the civilians from the battle zone and are currently fighting a losing battle. When they've been effectively captured and restrained by the two. Right before the villains could go into a monologue, they hear a person clearing their throat.
Everybody looks to see a 25 year old man wearing a sweater vest (he made it himself, thank you very much) currently holding onto the leash of a giant glowing green dog and some kind of giant animal hybrid. The man's arms were crossed and was currently not sporting a very happy look on his face.
Tucker and Sam (looking at Danny with hesitant smiles): Hi honey.
Danny (frowning): you missed our anniversary dinner.
Tucker and Sam both pale as they quickly realized what the date and time was.
The league all watch as Sam and Tucker immediately start apologizing to the man that just walked into a battle zone.
Danny (still frowning): Hmph! I guess since you two didn't want dinner you can go back to your little fight. Don't expect me to make you any lunches for the next month, and since you two are having so much fun here, you'll be sleeping by yourselves for the next couple weeks.
The league all watch as they were let go as Sam and Tucker yell as they run after Danny yelling apologies as he was walking away from them.
This is not the last they see of Danny.
When Danny is displeased with either of his partners, he'll invite a hero over to have lunch of afternoon tea.
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motorsportbarbie13 · 3 months ago
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Get Unready With Me - Drunk Edition
In which Lando takes care of you after a night out.
Pairing: Lando Norris x FeminineGirlfriend!Reader Warnings: Drunk reader. Tooth achingly sweet fluff tho. Word Count: 1.8k words
Master List
“Lando! I’ve lost my keys!” You cry, opening the flap on your vintage Chanel bag in an attempt to dump the contents out on the floor of your flat’s empty hallway. 
“No you haven’t, you muppet.” He scolds, tugging the purse out of your hands before anything beyond your Charlotte Tilbury lipstick can clatter to the floor. “You gave me your keys after your fifth vodka cran. ‘Lan baby, be my hero and hold my keys so I don’t lose them!’” He mocks, pulling out your keyring from his pocket. 
Your eyes light up, a drunken giggle slipping off your lips as you lean your whole weight onto your boyfriend as he attempts to open the apartment door for you. “My hero!” 
“Besides,” He tuts, slipping the key into the keyhole. “We live together, my keys are your keys.” 
Lando swings the door open, ushering you inside before closing the door behind him with a soft snick of the lock. You look back at him, a bit more unsteady on your feet than you’d like. The pair of you are just getting back from dinner and dancing with a few of the other drivers and their significant others to celebrate the end of the season and you may have gone a bit overboard with the drinks portion of the night.
Flinging your stilettos off your feet, you groan at the relief of feeling the cool tile on your toes, only stumbling a bit when you try to stand up straight. It’s quite the miracle you made it up from the garage to your tenth floor apartment in those heels under your own power really. “I think my feet might just fall off.” 
Lando follows behind you as you stumble towards the couch. “Baby, shouldn’t we just go to bed? It’s late.” 
“My feet don’t work anymore. Carry me?” You pout, reaching for him with grabby hands. You are quite needy when you get this drunk but honestly, Lando doesn’t mind one bit. You’re quite independent, refusing to allow him to pay for much despite his multi-million dollar contract and endorsement deals. In fact, for the first year of your relationship you had refused to move in with him because there had been no way you could afford to split the rent in his posh apartment in Monaco. So when you get needy like this, which isn’t as often as he’d like, Lando likes to take full advantage of it. He likes to feel needed, especially by the woman he is absolutely smitten with. 
“I think your feet work just fine, but I will carry you to bed anyway, pretty girl.” He coos, scooping you up in his arms. 
You wiggle a little against him, nestling your head in the crook of his neck before breathing in his scent deeply. “You smell so good.” 
“I smell like sweat.” He laughs, walking down the hall towards your shared bedroom. 
“It must be the pheromones then. You’re so sexy when you’re sweaty.” You giggle. 
Lando chuckles, knocking the light switch with his elbow as he enters your room. The yellow glow from the lights overhead illuminate your face as you look up at him. In the alcohol induced haze, the thought of how lucky you are to have him flickers through your mind. You two had met a few years ago when you had been attended the British Grand Prix with your uncle Jenson Button. He had literally swept you off your feet when Fernando Alonso had nearly taken you out in the paddock with his scooter. You liked to joke that Lando had literally been your knight in shining armor that day, so of course you fell for him quick and hard. 
“Here you go, love.” Lando gently sets you down on the bed, your eyes already droopy with exhaustion from the day. “Lets get you out of that dress and into something comfy.” 
“Are you trying to seduce me, Lando Norris?” You slur. 
“No, I’m trying to get you into bed because you’re about five seconds away from falling asleep and I don’t want to cuddle you all night with that scratchy dress on.” Lando rolls his eyes but can’t help the grin that spreads across his face. He helps you shimmy out of the tight dress, pulling it over your head so you were left in only the skimpy McLaren papaya colored lingerie set. 
“This is new.” He says, slipping a finger under the strap of the lacy bralette that has him biting his bottom lip. You looked so cute sitting there on the bed, dressed only in his team colors. 
“I wore it to surprise you but now I’m too drunk to fuck you.” 
Lando can’t help the laugh that tumbles out of him. Despite you being 3 sheets to the wind, you know his rules: No sex while one of you is drunk and the other is sober.  And Lando is very sober right now, wanting to maintain some control over you as you tend to get a little wild and adventurous (read: you like to wander off) when you’re partying. “We can have a rot in bed day tomorrow and you can wear it then, okay love?” 
Your bottom lip sticks out in a pout, “Fine.” 
“Now, lay down. I’ll go get you a t-shirt and we can go to sleep.” 
You follow his instructions and watch as Lando bustles around the room, first getting changed himself and then pulling a t-shirt out of his closet for you. 
A few moments later, Lando pulls his t-shirt onto your body and tucks you back into bed before going to get some aspirin and a glass of water for you, knowing you’re going to have a wicked hangover tomorrow. He hates to see you in pain, but a part of him is pleased that you’ll be unable to do much tomorrow so he’ll be able to wait on you hand and foot. Being needed is absolutely one of Lando’s love languages. 
As he goes to switch off the lights, finally ready to get into bed beside you, suddenly you sit up. “Lando!” You gasp, smacking him on the shoulder as he sits down on his side of the bed. 
“What is it, pretty girl?” 
“My makeup! If I don’t take it off and wash my face, I’m going to break out and I will not be your pretty girl anymore.” 
Lando rolls his eyes, “Seriously? Can’t you just skip it this one time? You will always be my pretty girl, breakout or not.” 
In addition to being extra needy when you’re drunk, you are also extra stubborn. “I need to do my skincare, Lando.” You whine. 
“Fine.” Lando is quite certain there is no way you’d be able to do it by yourself, judging by the state you’re in though. “Let’s go, I’ll help you.” 
You blink up at him as he rounds the bed to stand before you, offering you his hand. “Really?” 
He looks down at those big eyes and pouty lips of yours and really wants to break the whole ’no sex while only one of us is drunk’ rule. “Yes, really you muppet. Come on.” 
Despite the fact that just a few minutes before you had been insisting your feet were about to fall off, you suddenly find the ability to walk and pad behind him into the large en suite bathroom. It’s a luxurious place, with a large jetted tub and huge shower with two shower heads. You find yourself sharing a shower with Lando more often than not. On the other side of the white and black tiled bathroom are his and hers sinks, yours more cluttered than his with various skin and hair products. You may be independent when it comes to asking for help, but you are certainly not low maintenance when it comes to your hair or skin.  
Lando stands in front of your sink, eyeing the various jars and tubes with a bit of skepticism. “I hope you’re sober enough to tell me what goes first because there is no way I can do this on my own.” He mumbles.
“You watch me do this all the time, baby.” 
“Doesn’t mean I know what any of this is. Now, hop up on the counter and let me take care of you.” He says, kissing the tip of your nose. 
A fire burns in your belly at his order. Secretly, you do love when he takes care of you like this. You just hate to admit it. Being raised by a single mom who was never the biggest fan of the male species, you had always been wary of asking for help but being with Lando had healed some of that trauma and mistrust in you and the longer you were with him, the easier you found depending on him. 
“What’s first?” 
“The micellar water.” 
Panic flashes across Lando’s face. “The what?” 
Giggling, you kick your feet like a toddler and point to the large bottle with clear liquid in it. “That. Put some on a cotton ball and…” 
“Wipe off your makeup. I know, I’ve seen you do it, I just don’t know what goes when.”
Lando squirts some out on a cotton ball like he’s seen you do a thousand times and begins to wipe off the makeup in long, slow strokes. The alcohol makes your brain fuzzy but the way his face is so focused on his task, brows knit together in concentration, has you squeezing your legs together. He can’t quite believe how many cotton balls it takes to get everything off, but eventually most of your makeup is gone. 
“Now is when you use the soap, right?” 
He looks so eager to be right your heart squeezes a bit. “Yes, that bottle right there.” 
Lando continues on with your skincare routine, listening to your every step and following it exactly as described. It takes a little longer than usual, but neither of you mind. The way he so gently rinses the soap off your face and then applies your moisturizer is strangely one of the most romantic things you’ve ever done together. 
Finally, everything is done and you’re bare faced and freshly moisturized. Lando hands you your toothbrush, already prepped with your toothpaste, and the pair of you brush your teeth together. He gently helps you down off the counter and you follow him back into the bedroom, hand in hand. 
“Thank you, baby.” You coo as you slip under the covers, watching as Lando switches off the bedroom lights, plunging the bedroom into darkness. 
“I love taking care of you.” He murmurs when he joins you under the heavy duvet, your warmth radiating towards him in waves. 
“I love you, Lando Norris.” 
“I love you too, pretty girl.” 
Tag List: @shelbyteller, @formulaal, @martygraciesversion381, @longhairkoo, @samantha-chicago, @stelena-klayley @dark-night-sky-99 @luckylampzonkland, @chlmtfilms , @inarabee @aykxz98 @forensicheart @cheer-bear-go-vroom @charlesgirl16
Want to be included on the tag list? Send me a message/leave a comment! <3
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baby-yongbok · 5 months ago
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One Last Time
Ex-husband!Bang Chan x afab!Reader
✦ Genre: Soon to be exes to lovers [18+ MDNI] ✦ Summary: Petty claims of possession lead to one last night of pleasure.
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✦ CW: Choking/ light breath play, pussy spanking [for a second], Unprotected sex [wrap it up party people], Size Kink [for a second], Oral (f rec.), Chan is... aggressive(??), Chan is referred to as Chris, He calls you a bitch once. only once. ✦A/N: Bang Chan made me do it. There's barely any plot in sight. I wrote this in 4 hrs in the middle of the night. Enjoy! + reader is depicted as chubby/plus size and is a POC ♡
✧ Masterlist ✧
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It’s funny how things change. Day turns to night, hot to cold and love to pure seething hatred. 
Okay, maybe that’s a bit dramatic but you swear that that’s all you can feel swarming in your chest as you sit across from your soon to be ex-husband. 
He made a show of things at the settlement meeting this afternoon. He pushed back on every negotiation you made which has led you to where you are now. Each of you on your side of the bed with a pile of stuff littering the Egyptian cotton sheets that he just has to take with him. 
“There. Are you happy now?” You throw the last item on top of his pile and Chris stares down at the item with that damned smirk that you used to love. “Almost.”
He stands from the mattress, dark eyes on something behind you. He grabs it before you can turn. “I bought you this purse.”
The muffled thud of his hard bottom shoes against the carpet is all that you hear before he turns the black designer bag upside down. The contents clatter against his shoes, items rolling in different directions as you watch with a clenched jaw. 
He’s circling back to his side of the bed as you call upon the might of the gods to keep yourself calm. After being married for five years Chris has learned each and every one of your buttons and how hard he needs to press them just to tick you off. 
You’ve decided not to give him the satisfaction of making a scene. That’ll only feed his ego. Besides, he has buttons of his own, some that you installed yourself.
“Now I’m happy.” He drops the bag into his pile, smiling before you like he’d just gotten away with a million bucks. “Yeah?” 
Two can play that game. “I bought you that suit.” The smirk on blushed lips transfers to your painted ones as you stare over at him with arms crossed over your chest. 
“I’d like it back.” With an innocent bat of your lashes Chris smiles. It’s gone just as fast as it came and it doesn’t reach his eyes. He's pissed. 
“You’re fucking serious?” You hold your hand out to him. “Dead serious.”
Dark eyes are staring into darker ones as he holds your gaze. You’ve gotten used to him challenging you. You’ve gotten used to him being a petty asshole and you’ve learned how to play him at his own game. 
You watch as he pops the button of his suit jacket. Tongue in cheek while his fingers work to free him of the fabric. His eyes stay on yours as he peels the smoky threads from his shoulders. He shimmy’s it down thick arms, pulling at the cuffs until he’s free of it. He’s left in a skimpy t-shirt before you and you take the liberty of letting your eyes wander. 
“Want the pants too?” Chris throws the jacket over into your pile before his hands start to fiddle with the metal of his buckle. “Keep ‘em. They’re the nicest thing you own now.” 
He mumbles something incoherent under his breath, his hand comes up to rake through his hair as his eyes wander the space you used to share. His gaze stops at your vanity, busy eyes study your open jewelry box then look back to you. 
“I gave you those earrings.” He stalks towards the table, snatching the gold studs off of the surface and slipping them into his pocket. “And..” 
The muffled thud of his shoes is all you can hear over the thick tension pulsing around you. It’s all that you can hear over your own enraged heartbeat. “This necklace.” The clasp is snapped from around your neck before you can breathe a protest. You gasp at the sudden pressure of your chain being ripped from you. 
“What the fuck.” That smirk is stolen  back when he slips the jewelry into his pocket. He stands in front of you, barely an inch between you as your chests rise and fall in unison. “You’re fucking ridiculous.”
“Me?” He fakes a pout, blinking over at you. “I didn’t do anything” 
“Whatever, you got your stuff, get out.” You’re hissing at him, heart racing and blood bubbling with the annoyance you’ve been harboring for the length of this insufferable process. “I’m done with you.”
“Not so fast.” he says slowly, his hands finding your waist before you can step around him. You attempt to shrug off his grip and fail. “I bought you that too.” 
His eyes trail from your eyes to your lips. His tongue darts out to lick over his own as he stares. “That lipstick.” His eyes find yours again.
“Fuck off, Chris.” There’s a bite to your tone that makes him smile. He’s always loved a challenge. 
“I bought it.” He pulls you into him by your waist. Your body is flush with his and one of his hands quickly abandon the plush flesh to wrap around your neck. “ I wan’ it back. I think that’s fair.”
It’s dark on dark as he leans in, eyes searching each others frantically as Chris closes the gap and kisses you gently. It barely makes a sound, it’s feather light and quick. 
“You want it back?” You whisper against his lips and he nods. “Then I want the pants.” 
That fucking smirk pulls at his red stained lips and his mouth is on yours in an instant. It’s hot and messy, drowning out the previous softness. You grab at his arms, clawing down the flesh while his fingers dig into your hips. 
He licks into your mouth with a desperate groan as you turn your heads left and right, his tongue explores your mouth as he takes in the taste of you one last time. Your arms wrap around his neck as one of his hands grab at the swell of your ass.
 “Fuck.” He groans against you, stealing another kiss before you catch his bottom lip between your teeth. “Up.” With a firm smack on your ass you jump up and his hands find purchase on the curve of your bottom over your dress. 
You fall into a mess of tugging and moaning. The tension you once felt in your chest melts into pleasure as his hands wander your bareskin. He drops you onto the mattress, pushing the sorted piles out of the way and hovering over you in your ripped dress as you lay sprawled out on the sheets before him. 
“Gonna miss this.” Chris’ mouth is stained cherry red with your lipstick, it’s smeared over your cheeks and it compliments the bruises that he’s sucking into your skin. You bunch his shirt up his back, scratching along the way and leaving your own marks as you please. 
“Shut up, eat my pussy.” You pull him back with a fist full of his hair, he hisses a moan through clenched teeth as his own hand finds it’s way around your throat again. He squeezes this time. It’s just enough to have your eyes flutter shut, just enough to get you right where he wants you. 
“Can’t you be my good girl for one more night? Can’t you stop being a bitch for just a second, baby?” Chris leans down with a tighter squeeze. Your fingers wrap around his wrist, your nails digging into the flesh. “Did you already forget who the fuck I am?”
He loosens his grip giving you the satisfaction of that blissful rush before squeezing again. “Do you see how small you are?” He whispers, placing a kiss by your ear. “Do you feel how strong I am, baby? Don’t you know how this goes?”
A moan is all he gets as he pulls back to admire you. Your pretty mouth is parted with a silent moan as your thighs press together in a desperate attempt at cumming. “I should make you suck my cock.” His knee wedges between your legs and presses hard against your core. 
“I should fuck this pretty throat. I should get you back for being such a fucking brat through all of this.” The hand that was around his wrist scratches up his arm as he lets up again, letting the blood rush and giving you the dizzy feeling he knows you love. “I should -”
Your fingers wrap around his neck before he can finish his thought. Fierce eyes stare up into his as your other hand moves to unbutton his pants. “Just gimme what’s mine.”
Your hand slips into the waistband of his underwear as you pull him closer to you. “Wan’ my cock?” He moans at the soft feeling of your fingers wrapping around the tip. Eye’s fluttering shut as he attempts to take a breath against your grip.
 “‘S mine.” You lean up to his ear. “Isn’t it daddy?”
It was quick when he pinned you against the mattress. Both of your wrists were in his grip before he shifted them both to one hand to free his cock for you. “You’re a fucking tease. You’re so fucking predicatable, you know that?” He’s hissing as he fights with the fabric of his pants and your dress. 
“You want a reaction outta me, huh? Wanna rile me up, sweetheart?” With a shift of hands and a grunt he’s turning the two of you over. You follow him with a gasp, straddling his waist and sitting over his cock with your clothed cunt. “C’mon I’ll let you. Use me, get what you want.”
Your resolve sinks as his cock twitches against your core. Chris is lying beneath you looking like a sin personified and you feel compelled to indulge in his offer. He is still your husband after all. 
Your panties are pushed to the side in an instant. Chris’ wrists are pinned over his head while you grind your cunt over him. Sloppy sounds of you working over his leaking cock swirl in the hot air and Chris watches it all with drooping lids as you work against him. “Put it in, lemme watch it.”
You ignore him, slowing your grind to counter his request. “C’mon, baby, lemme feel you. I can make you feel so good. Let daddy fuck you, c’mon.” He watches you, head reeled back and moans dripping from your lips like drool as you  do as you please. 
“Fuckin’ tease.” He breaks free from your hold, hands wrapping around your waist and guiding the grind of your hips just as your clit catches on the head of his cock. “I asked nicely.” 
His cock catches at your entrance as he controls you. The push of him against your pussy has your mouth open in a silent scream as he bullies his cock into you. “You keep forgetting who I am, hm?” He sits up, landing a firm smack to your ass to match his brutal thrust as you settle in his lap.
“Chris, shit, just fuck me. Fuck me.” Your nails are in his back, drawing lines that could surely draw blood. He hisses at the pain, smiling with a bite of his tongue as he fucks up into you. 
His hips snap into yours, gradually picking up the pace until you’re falling apart against him. Chest to chest, you’re panting into each other. Littering the thick air with profanities as he splits you open on his dick. “Oh my fucking god, Chris. More. More more more, please. C’mon.”
“Take it.” He growls below you, allowing you to push him back against the mattress and ride his cock to your heart's content. “That’s it, take it. It’s yours, all yours.”
Your nails dig into his pecks, leaving marks on the flawless skin and you use him for leverage. The loud smack of skin against skin decorates the air accompanied by your moans.
 “Don’t hold back, baby. Enjoy that fucking ride.” He thrusts up into you, meeting you halfway. “Let loose, just like that.”.
Chris is rambling under you, mumbling under his breath and growling praises when he fucks deep into you. 
“Fuck me, fuck me harder. Wan’ it harder.” It’s dark on dark again. Hooded eyes stare into each other void of rage, the only priority is pleasure. You’re only here to take advantage. 
“Wan’ me harder?” He fucks into you, moaning at the squeeze you give. “Wan’ me deeper?”
With a lift of his hips Chris flips you over. “Be good for me, yeah? One last time, be a good fucking girl and lay on your back for me. Lemme eat this pretty pussy.” He rips your dress down your frame with a grunt. Your panties get the same treatment before he’s falling to his knees before you. 
“Gonna miss you on your knees.” You prop yourself up on your elbows, staring down at him behind a fucked out haze. “Lookin’ so pretty for me with a mouth full of my cunt.”
With a smirk Chris licks a wet stripe from your hole to your clit. He swirls his tongue around the bud, sucking it between red stained lips and flicking it. Your head drops back against the mattress with a loud moan. Your hands comb through and grab at his damp dark locks but he quickly repositions you to hold yourself open for him. 
“Watch me eat it.” He reaches up, brushing your chin with his fingertips. He lays a flat wet lick to your pussy, hooded eyes staring up into yours. “Eyes on me. Eyes on daddy.”
He spreads your cunt with his fingers, holding you open for him while he spits down onto your clit. He collects it all on his tongue, licking it over the nub before spitting it back. Sloppy slurps against a drooling pussy is all that fills the room. “Daddy, please, wanna cum on your cock.”
He pulls back with a pop, spitting back down onto your cunt. He watches it drip down to your hole, following the stream with his fingers to press it into you. 
“You wan’ me deep right?” His middle and pointer fuck you open as he coos. “Want me to spread this tiny cunt on my dick?” You’re moaning. Panting confirmations and whining pathetically into the air. 
“Then hold it.” He kisses your clit, sucking it in then releasing. “Don’t cum.”
“Please.” You moan a plea, unraveling little by little with each suck and flick of your clit. His fingers fuck you open, curling into your soft spot and pushing you further towards the edge that you’re trying to avoid. 
You could just cum. You could just take what he’s giving you instead of following the rules but it’s so good like this. He’s so good like this. You miss him giving you what you want.
“Chris, ‘m gonna cum for you. I can’t. Please jus’ gimme.” He blinks up at you with pussy drunk eyes as his kiss bitten lips move against you despite your begging. “Daddy, please. I wan’ your cock.”
"Don't cum for me yet" he speaks against your cunt before licking a wet kiss up to your clit. 
"I can't, Chris. I can't, I can't, I'm gonna cum." Your eyes are glued to the way he licks up and down your swollen pussy. Taunting you with the skill he's gained over the years. He's pushing your buttons again.  
"Daddy, daddy, daddy, please you have to let me. You’re gonna make me cum. Your mouth, your fucking mouth, please let me cum."
You're babbling, you know you are. You’re slipping through the cracks quickly and you can’t do a thing to stop it. There’s no going back and Chris knows it but he still smacks the inside of your thigh. Warning you to be good for him and let him build you up a bit more before you take his cock again.
"Don't." He kisses your clit. "Cum." He sucks the bud into his mouth and swirls his tongue over it with a moan. He's a madman if he thinks you could survive that. 
"Fuck, 'm cumming. I'm cumming, 'm sorry." You’re shaking, your nails dig into your thighs as you keep yourself open for him.  "Cumming, 'm cumming, I can't stop cumming, I can't stop cumming."
He moans into you as he laps up every drop of arousal that you're giving him. He commits your sweet taste to memory with one final swipe of his tongue before he’s kissing up your stomach. 
His lips trail up the valley of your breasts. He licks over the mound, sucking your nipple into his mouth and swirling it with a hum. Once he’s satisfied he moves to your shoulder, kissing and licking his way over to your collarbone then finally his lips are back on yours.
You’re gasping as you tremble through your orgasm, aftershocks wash over you as you taste yourself on his tongue. Chris smirks, whispering against your lips. "No one else will make you feel this good, baby. No one else will make you cum like this.”
The head of his cock slips through your dripping folds, catching against your clit before he’s pushing in. “This is mine. All mine." He sinks in to the hilt then slowly drags his cock back against your walls. 
“This is what I want.” He straightens up, looking down at your pretty face contorted in pleasure. 
“All of that other shit doesn’t matter.” He moans, holding your thighs back to get a perfect view of you.  “I wanna watch it. Wanna see the way my pussy opens up for me. ‘S mine, isn’t it, baby? Tell me this shit is mine.”
“Yours, it’s yours. Fuck, ‘s fucking yours, please, you’re gonna make me cum.” Chris slows his strokes, grinding deep into you and dipping his hips to hit the soft spot that turns you into putty for him.
You’re drooling at the feeling. Tears threaten to fall from the corners of tired eyes as you watch the way he admires your cunt. The corner of his bottom lip is tugged and held firm between his teeth as he fights back his moans so that he can hear yours clearer.
“Shit, You’re gonna make me cum. Gonna make me fucking cum, make daddy cum.” The precise snap of his hips grows sloppy as the seconds pass. His once slow grind is now erratic. He’s purely seeking pleasure, sinking deeper into the haze with every drag. 
“Fuck, squeeze me. Yeah, just like that, that’s my girl. Pretty fucking girl on my cock.” Each thrust is met with a slap to your clit. You jolt at the contact, back arching off of the mattress. “Cum for me. Cum on my dick.” 
With one more flick of your clit you're trembling beneath him. Your cunt sucks him in and he takes it all with a loud moan. Chris lets your legs fall so that he can hover over you. He holds himself up on his elbows as he kisses you through your climax. You moan into it, shaking with each thrust and twitch of his cock. 
“Shit, that’s good. So good, baby, ‘m gonna cum.” The frantic bucking of his hips against yours comes to a halt as he falls apart. 
Moans tumble forward as he does. His muscles tense and his eyes roll back as he drives himself deep into you, filling you with every drop of himself that he has to offer. Chris collapses on top of you, his weight pinning you in place. 
You pant below him, coming down from your high as aftershocks wash over him. He kisses your neck, breathing heavily into your skin. 
“Now.” He pulls back slightly, gaze catching yours. “Now I’m happy.”
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the-original-skipps · 5 months ago
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|| Leave Me Dead To The World. || Five Hargreeves x Reader || The Umbrella Academy ||
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don’t even get me started on tua season 4 cuz i hated it especially the you know what with Five.
CW: Spoilers for TUA season 4 epsiode 6. Instead of Lila, (Y/N) is the who goes with him to get stuck for 7 years.
bold italics are song lyrics from dead to the world by noel gallagher listen to it while you read to up the reading experience haha
synopsis: After spending 7 years in a another timeline with Five, you’ve come back to be reunited with everyone in the present. Only to find out that the world’s on a fast track to ending again, but this time there’s no running away from the inevitable.
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“P-Please Five, don’t do this…!”
You cry out as your shaky hands cup his face, your forehead pressed against his as his solemn eyes stare deeply into yours. Both of you standing on a familiar platform, while Lila’s family and Claire watch with melancholy. You could see his eyes pooling with his tears at your desperation. You have no idea how much Five wanted to abandon everything, the world, his family and leave everything behind to jump back on the train with you. To a house in the middle of the woods, where you’d grow strawberries and to spend the rest of your lives together. Live the life he always imagined with you by side until he draws his final breath but he couldn’t.
It’s time to let go, I’m bent over backwards.
He knew if he did, everything would start over again-the end of the world is always going to be inevitable as long as he and his family lived. He tried over and over again and just when he thought he could finally live-when he finally stopped it, does the cruel reminder that it’ll never end, come back. He couldn’t do this to you again, you deserved to live a full life even though he won’t ever be a part of it. That is why, with a heavy heart does Five slowly shake his head at your plea. His heart sinks even further at the look on your face at his rejection. “I’m sorry (Y/N), I wish it didn’t have to be this way but there’s no other options left. I wish there was, I r-really do…” Five croaks out as he tries to wipe the tears that continuously fall from your eyes. As the trains signal its doors closing, Five knew his time was up.
If love ain’t enough to make it alright. Leave me dead to the world.
“I love you...”
With a final press of his lips to your forehead, Fives pushes you harshly into the train. Surprised, you fall backwards, only for Claire to try and catch you as you land on the floor of the train. Horror filled your eyes as the train doors closes on you, separating you and Five forever.
You quickly scramble to stand up, yelling and pounding on the door that separates you both. Five smiles sadly at you, as he places a hand on the glass then bringing it up to a wave as the train signals its departure. Your shouts get louder as the train starts to move, pounding harder as you call out your lover’s name. As the speed picks up, you see Five’s figure growing smaller and smaller until it completely disappears. Only then do you fall to your knees with a dreadful wail as your heart shatters into a million pieces.
Five's hand falls back down to his side lifelessly as the train disappears into darkness. The tears that welled up in his eyes, finally cascading down his cheeks. The Five who never showed any weakness, nonetheless cried - his walls now completely broken down. He had to remain strong in front of you or else he would have wavered in his decision. With a shaky breath, he turns around preparing to blink back to the mansion - back to his family who waited for him. He promises that if he was ever given another chance at life again that he'll find you again, and love you like he always wanted to. No matter how long it takes, he'll find you again even if you won’t remember him. When he meets you, will you fall in love with him again? It’s wishful thinking but he hopes that even if it’s a tiny bit, that you'd still remember him. With all of his heart he hopes that you do but until then.
"Take care, my love."
I can lend you a dream, till we meet again. I’m dead to the world.
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pellucid-constellations · 5 months ago
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Trial and Error (3)
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Pairing: Azriel x Reader
Summary: Based on the request: "Azriel with single mom reader? I feel like being a single mom in ACOTAR would be tricky as hell… reader comes from autumn court and flees to night court because she got pregnant out of marriage? 😯 the shame"
Word count: 2k
Warnings: Very small mention of blood
a/n: I am lovinggg writing this and I can't stop so don't ask me to 🏃‍♀️
Read part one | part two | part four
Main Masterlist ♡
~~
Azriel had been by the apothecary four times since his first visit. That wasn’t an unusual number by any means, but it was alarming that he was supposedly going through his headache tonic so quickly. You would give him a week’s worth and he would return for more within three days. 
Melanie had begun to expect him and had taken to examining his wings each time he walked through the door. She would run and stand atop the counter—much to your dismay—and Azriel would unfurl them from his back just a hair so she could get a better look. Her comfortability with him scared you. You’d spoken to your daughter about stranger danger and had emphasized it a million times, but with Azriel, she held no reproach. 
Azriel didn’t seem to mind. You had apologized countless times for Melanie’s staring and her invasive questions, but Azriel would only wave you off with a glint in his eye. He always chalked it up to being an uncle, but you’d had an uncle and he was nothing like Azriel. 
None of your family was like anyone you’d met in Velaris. 
Still, there was a lingering pit in your stomach each time Azriel would ask you a question about yourself or smile at your daughter. It didn’t feel safe to make too many friends, and Azriel was a particularly unsafe friend to have. 
The Shadowsinger. 
You’d learned of his position within the Night Court’s inner circle after Melanie had asked yet another question about Azriel and his shadows. 
“I’m a Shadowsinger,” he had explained, your daughter spinning in circles around him, tugging his shadows along with her. A small smile graced his face as he spoke. “My shadows tell me secrets so I can ensure everything is going okay in Velaris.” 
A cold sweat broke out along your skin as he spoke the words, but you only continued to smile and focused on keeping your breath even. 
He would be the one to find you out—there was no doubt about it. 
But something told you the closeness could be a good thing. Perhaps, if he knew you, he would take pity on you when he found out. Perhaps, if he knew you, he wouldn’t feel the need to dig into your history and ask questions. 
At least, that’s what you were hoping for because Azriel didn’t show any sign of staying away from you or Melanie—a truth made even more apparent at Melanie’s open house. 
“Melanie does so wonderfully in all her subjects,” her teacher gushed, a clipboard held tightly at her chest. “She especially loved our cooking unit. She loved the burners and heating things up.” 
You raised your brows and grinned. “I’m so happy to hear that. She talks about school so often. I’m glad her enthusiasm is reflected in her work.” 
An obvious avoidance—an attempt to curtail the subject away from your daughter’s affinity for flames. 
Her teacher did not seem put off. “It is! I know she began in the middle of the school year, but she has caught on so quickly. I can tell she has a lot of support at home. Big family?” 
Perhaps her teacher wasn’t as oblivious as you had hoped. You fought the twitch in your eye, dreading that this woman would know more about you. Five years of careful isolation and suddenly you were thrust into the public eye. 
“No, just the two of us. But my work is quite flexible so she’s never alone. I always have time to help her with school.” 
“That’s so great to hear. I have to ask, just for the sake of my student, her father—”
“Hello, Ms. Fern.”
Azriel’s voice startled you out of the panic rising in your chest. You turned to find him rooted in his spot behind you, arms crossed over his chest. His gaze flicked down to you for a brief moment before settling back on the teacher. 
“Azriel!” Ms. Fern delighted. “I didn’t expect you today. I saw the High Lord and Lady earlier so I assumed it would just be the parents.” 
Azriel hummed. “I wanted to come by and see Nyx’s art. You mentioned he painted the family.” 
“You didn’t need to do that! I know you’re so busy. What a wonderful—“ 
Azriel slowly edged in front of you, hiding you from Ms. Fern’s watchful eye. You felt a slight push against your hip and held in a laugh as Azriel reached behind him and ushered you off without ever looking away from the teacher. You quickly scampered away and made yourself busy examining the art around the room. Upon closer inspection, Nyx had painted a troll—not his family. 
It took about 10 minutes of lingering before Azriel joined you, his shadows giving him away. They slinked around your wrists and traveled up to caress your neck. 
“Apologies for their familiarity,” Azriel said in place of a greeting. “They seem to have grown comfortable with you.” 
“And Melanie,” you added. You rounded a table and meandered out to the hall. Azriel followed. “They love to chase her around the apothecary. Sometimes I wonder if you keep coming by because they’re making you.” 
Azriel bit back a smile but it still formed into a bashful expression. “Perhaps that’s why.” 
In the hall, you found yourself alone with Azriel—utterly and completely alone. Melanie was with one of your neighbors as the teacher made it clear no students were allowed at the open house, and no one else occupied the space. You leaned your back against the wall and looked up at Azriel, a shyness overtaking you. 
You were never really alone with him—Melanie was always right around the corner. 
“That was some maneuver earlier,” you commented, fidgeting with your fingers at your waist. 
“She was prying,” Azriel replied. You watched the way he carefully trailed his gaze down to your fingers. “I certainly wasn’t going to let her know more about you than I do. Not when I’ve put in far more effort.” 
“I thought your shadows were the reason you came,” you teased. 
“Right, my shadows.” 
You pressed your mouth into a line, feeling small under Azriel’s never-ending gaze. His eyes never left yours as silence blanketed the hall. It was as if he saw through you, understood you in a way that didn’t make sense. 
Maybe you could tell him. 
No, that was ridiculous. 
Was it? 
“Where’s Mel?” Azriel asked, startling you out of your internal strife. 
The words didn’t comprehend, the jumbled mess of your mind intensifying as the Shadowsinger knocked his head to the side and asked you questions. 
“What?” 
“Melanie,” he clarified, brows bunching. “I was going to offer to watch her for this but I didn’t want to impose. I know I’m still mostly a stranger, but I don’t know if you have family in the area and I just…” 
He trailed off. You never mentioned any family because that was one of the topics you strayed from each time it was broached. Family, your origins, Melanie’s father; he never brought any of it up directly, but he’d hint at it. And you always changed the subject. 
“I—I don’t,” you revealed. You broke his gaze and stared down at your fingers, picking at the skin around your nails. “Have family here, I mean. But I have neighbors that Melanie likes. They’re watching her.” 
“Do you trust them?” Azriel asked, an edge to his tone. 
“Of course I do. I wouldn’t leave her with anyone I didn’t.” 
“Good,” he grunted out. 
“And I would never ask you to watch Mel. That—I know you’re probably busy and she's kind of a handful..” 
Azriel started speaking before the last word left your mouth. “She’s not. And I would never be too busy for that.”
Another silence fell. You picked harder at your nails.
“Azriel, I—“ 
“I want you to feel safe with me. To trust me.” 
His admittance shocked you into silence. You weren’t actually sure what you were going to say to him, but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. Everything you had ever thought exited your brain. 
You opened your mouth to speak but no sound escaped. 
“I mean—I just mean that I want to be a person you can trust Melanie with. That you can trust to… to share more with. I don’t know what you’ve been though, or how you ended up here in Velaris, but I want to be something safe for you.”
It felt as if something was pressing against your chest. When Melanie was around, he never looked at you with such intensity—he never said these things with so much devotion to back his words. 
A sharp, hot feeling pricked your fingers. Azriel’s hand immediately covered both of your own, his warm touch pulling your fingers away from each other. You’d drawn blood—a terrible nervous habit. 
With all of the shock you missed the fact that this was the first time Azriel had touched you with such intentionality. 
“It’s like you’re living in survival mode—you and Melanie. I want you both to feel like there’s someone looking out for you.” 
“Why?” you whispered, the word still sounding entirely too loud. “Why us? Why me?” 
Azriel hadn’t removed his hands from yours. He offered a small squeeze to your fingers. “Why not you?” 
Something broke in you. Something pulled. 
You wanted nothing more than to open your mouth and let everything out. You wanted to trust him—to be able to trust anyone—but there was so much danger to that.
You could be forced back home. You could be forced to marry that man. You could lose Melanie. 
But Azriel was looking at you as if he’d place his life before any of those possibilities. His gaze was beseeching, almost desperate, and something was urging you to trust him. Something intrinsic. Something that felt right.
Your lips parted. 
“Rhys, I told you, Azriel isn’t here.” 
“I saw him leave just after us, darling. He came.” 
“He came to Nyx’s open house? What could he possibly have to gain?” 
The conversation down the hall startled you. You yanked your hands from Azriel’s grip and whipped your head to the side in anticipation. 
Rhys, Azriel, Nyx; you knew who was about to enter the hall, and reality came crashing down on you as soon as you made the connection. 
“I have to go,” you rushed out, eyes widening. “I—Thank you, Azriel, but this isn’t—this isn’t safe for Melanie. Not… all of this. I have to—” 
You left, and Azriel stayed. 
You heard your name as you went, heard it echo down the hall, but you still left. 
And Azriel still stayed. 
part four
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hargreeves-duncan · 5 months ago
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Can I request five x reader (takes place in s2) where reader (five’s partner) gets sent to Dallas around a year before five comes and after he does and reader sees him, she immediately tackles him on the spot and gives him many kisses. Maybe reader manages to work at a casino too
a/n: hi, thank you so much for your request! i haven’t written in a while so i'd love to hear your thoughts, enjoy!!
summary: it's been far too long since you've seen your boyfriend - he learns that the affectionate way.
warnings: reader works at a casino but there’s no actual gambling so🤷‍♀️
word count: 1.4k
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You had to hand it to yourself, for someone who’d known next to nothing about life in the 1960s, you’d adapted pretty well. In no time at all, you’d managed to land yourself a job as a waitress in a casino. A very good one. It seemed in this timeline, Jack Ruby thought a casino would be a better investment than a night club - and for your part, you couldn’t say that he was wrong, nor could you complain.
The hours were long, but the pay was good enough and the other girls had taken you in as one of their own. You quickly began to excel. Strolling between the tables and flashing smiles was easy, second nature even. You developed the wit and charisma to charm the casino’s patrons without second thought, which meant you got more drinks served, more loyal customers and bigger tips to go along with them. 
Most nights the new life you’d built for yourself was more than enough but sometimes, no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t help but yearn for what had come before - who had come before.
There was always a dull ache in your chest whenever you caught a fleeting glimpse of a lone, brown-haired man at one of the tables. In those moments, you could never stop yourself from believing for a slither of a second that Five had made it and he’d come right back to you.
You’d waited for him in that dingy, old alley for two weeks straight, because you knew that Five would never abandon his family like that. That something must’ve gone wrong, but it was okay because he’d come back and everything would be fine. That was what you told yourself. You were so sure he’d show up and solve everything in an instant, because that was what he always did. And when he hadn’t, it had almost destroyed you.
The first few months were gruelling, taking your first steps in the new world had taken a while. Grieving Five had taken longer. The obvious truth was staring you in the face. A year without contact from him or any of the other Hargreeves siblings? The probability was that you were the only one who had survived.
It was a truth that you were reluctant to admit, even now. One that led you to where you are today, starting yet another night shift, beside the casino’s bar, to serve a particularly rowdy Friday night crowd of patrons.
As you begin to set up, Mary-Anne, one of the other waitresses on shift, sidles up to you. Her honey-blonde curls bouncing around her ears as she leans against the bar. Trying to stifle her laugh, in her southern drawl, she says, “Has he tried talking to you yet?”
You raise an eyebrow at her, tilting your head to the side, “Has who tried talking to me yet?”
Her grin grows wider as she gestures to a table on the far corner of the room, laughing, “That little boy. Haven’t I said a million times that we oughta get tighter on the security in this place?”
She sighs, resting her hands on her hips, “I went over to him - trying to tell him that we don’t allow minors in here - and what’d he do?”
Deciding to humour her, you smile, looking down at her, “I’ve got no idea, tell me.”
She scoffs, shaking her head as she smiles, “He told me that he more than knew his way around place a place like this and that I had nothing to worry about with him. Can you imagine having the nerve like that at his age?”
The thought made you laugh. It reminded you of Five. His haggard temper in the body of his younger self always seemed to shock people in the very same way. You paused. It couldn’t be him, couldn’t it? You must be jumping to conclusions. After all this time, it’d make no sense if he was here now and yet…
“He said that?” You ask, eyebrows furrowing as you glance between the table and Mary-Anne. You squint, trying to see if you could recognise him.
A part of you felt silly and girlish for still holding out hope but this kid’s description was just too similar and besides, you were a teenager again, you were allowed to be lovesick and entirely delusional. It was practically your god-given right.
Mary-Anne nodded, loading her tray up with drinks of all shapes and sizes to cover her half of the room, “He did.”
Your eyes were locked onto the distant table, practically pleading for the kid to just turn around and let your hopes down already. Still, all that greeted you was the back of his head and the green fuzz of the poker table in front of him.
When you didn’t tear your eyes away, Mary-Anne looked you up and down, her baby blue eyes swimming with concern, “You alright there?”
Looking back at her, you sigh, already pent up at the possibility of Five being so close, “Yeah, I just… What did he look like?” You ask tentatively, biting your rouge-tinted, bottom lip between your teeth.
Mary-Anne hums in thought as she loads your tray for you, “Gosh, I don’t know - he had dark hair, was wearing a suit. It had the funniest, little emblem on it.” She says, tapping her chest in place of where it would’ve been.
Your eyes widen in shock and excitement as you process her words, “An umbrella! It was an umbrella, wasn’t it?”
Mary-Anne grins, giggling, “It was… how’d you know that?”
You couldn’t even answer her. You were already starting to tremble and hyperventilate, entirely overcome with nerves and joy and pure, unbridled excitement all at once. A year of being apart and now he was no more than a few strides away. Your smile brightens up like no other.
You slip your tray from over your head and place it down on the bar as you say, “Hey, cover for me, would you? I’ll be two seconds.”
Without waiting for her answer, you dash across the room - a flurry of giddiness bubbling up inside of you the closer you get. You tousle your hair and straighten your uniform, anything to keep your anxious fingers busy and to better yourself for something you’ve waited for for far too long.
Hearing heels coming towards him again, Five sighs in frustration and turns around in his chair, “Lady, I already told you-“
The breath feels like it’s been stolen from your throat as he turns to face you. It’s really, truly him. Your boyfriend is right there in front of you and you’ve never felt more relief than in this moment.
“Y/N.”
You’re not sure if you want to cry or scream or simply just take him in for the first time all over again. As you look over him, his piercing gaze, his dark hair and the freckle on his right cheek that you can’t count the number of times you’ve kissed, your eyes can’t help but be drawn to his lips.
God, how you’ve missed the feeling of them. You barely have time to think about what you’re doing before you’re cupping his face and pressing your lips against his once more, savouring every part of him in a way you’d never thought to before.
Your hands trail over every callous in his skin, memorising him with your fingertips, and as you pull back, Five’s gaze softens like nothing else as he smirks, “Hello, you.”
His hands reach out to cup your face, gazing over you as if he’s not entirely sure that you’re real. After all your time apart, you’re not sure either. You smile, nodding, “It’s me. It’s you. You’re here, you’re really here!”
You cup his face in return and you can’t help but press another kiss to his lips. He smiles fondly as you do. And so you kiss him again… and again on his cheek… and on his freckle… his chin… his forehead. Everywhere your lips can reach, you press them.
After a moment, he laughs weakly and reaches up to pull your hands away from his face and intertwines them with his own fingers instead, “Okay, love.” He says chasteningly, “Let’s calm down there, shall we?”
Your smile grows shyer as you right yourself, “Sorry.” You say, brushing your hair away from your face.
He shakes his head, brushing your hair back for you and then guiding you by the waist to the seat beside him, “No, don’t be sorry. Don’t ever be sorry. Believe me, I’m just as happy to see you. Really.”
It’s him who initiates the kiss this time. He’s soft, delicate almost, in the way that he kisses you, as if each movement of his lips is a new way of giving all of his love to you and promising that he won’t ever let you out of his sights again.
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pomefioredove · 2 months ago
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Omg hiii! I saw that your requests were open again! Please take your time and prioritize your rest, and as always your writing is such a delight to read! I always look forward to your posts! 💖💖💖
That being said, can you please write for a Yuu/reader that has a love for painting (but is shy about showcasing their skill) , and was absolutely taken by Vil's beauty even before they met him? Of course they didn't know that he was a famous actor at first. What if Vil one day finds their sketches and paintings of him after months of knowing him? (hmm preferably after the events of book 6..? 👀)
SO CUTE!!! kicking my legs back and forth at this anonnn
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*ੈ✩‧₊˚ the picture of vil schoenheit
type of post: short fic characters: vil additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu
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How were you supposed to know?
It's not like Crowley had given you a guide on Night Raven College or its students (though, wouldn't that have been nice?)
I mean, you had to reminded of Trey's last name not two weeks ago. How were you supposed to know who Vil Schoenheit is?
You'd only seem him at a distance. Passed him by in the halls while he scolded some poor first year. He even looked beautiful when he was angry.
He was just made to be painted.
You didn't show your friends the art. You didn't need to give Ace another reason to tease you, and being a stalker would've really been the cherry on top of your weirdness sundae.
Besides, it was just drawing. Practice! Sketches from a distance, doodles done in the margins of your notes, watercolors and paintings from memory...
It felt familiar. This man, this stranger, someone you hadn't even spoken to, made you feel a little closer to home.
.
"Really, you should have some sort of organizational system,"
Vil leafs through pages of alchemy reports and history of magic homework. "Might I suggest a recycling bin?"
You smile. It's not often that your friend- Vil Schoenheit, that is- has a day off. But today is Saturday, and your room is in desperate need of his touch.
"This is... chaotic," he says, brushing a clump of Grim fur off his shoulder. "And you live like this?"
You shrug. "I try,"
"Well, try no more. We'll have this done before dinner,"
His commitment is touching. Millions of screeching fangirls would give anything just to spend five minutes with Vil, and here he is, tidying your room for you.
It's almost cute. He's humming to himself, hair tied back in a ponytail, in one of your shirts (his are too nice to get dirty), sweeping Grim fur out from under your bed.
"Rook and Epel couldn't make it?" you ask, pretending not to care that it's just the two of you.
"I told them not to bother,"
"Oh?"
Vil tsks. "They would get in the way. We're much more efficient on our own- we work well together, after all,"
That's something he'd said before. You'd always wondered what it meant.
"Right,"
You switch places, going to strip your bed of its sheets for washing while Vil tidies your desk.
Off go the pillow cases, the comforter, the blankets. You're wrestling with your mattress when you notice that he hasn't moved in a while.
He's looking through some of the papers from within the bowels of your desk, smiling to himself, a finger held to his perfect lips.
"What?"
"Hm?" he hums, but he doesn't look at you. "Oh, just... admiring your work. You have quite an eye for detail, have I ever told you that?"
He's being weird. You let go of your bundle of bedding and look at what he's holding, but it's just your sketchbook.
Oh. Oh, no. It's your sketchbook.
"OH! Um, wait-" you say, rushing to his side. "Don't- don't look!"
Vil smirks, and he holds the art over your head. "How unfair. The muse should always be the first to see, you know,"
Damn his height and perfect, slender arms!!! Your eyes widen. "It's not what it looks like! I didn't know you when I did those!"
"Yes, I saw the dates. You could make a career out of admiring me, you know~" he chuckles. "I'd pay for these. I'm sure Rook would like a few, as well."
You're practically melting with embarrassment. "Come on- give it back!"
Seeing your pathetic, embarrassed whining, Vil relents, handing you the sketchbook with an eye-roll.
"What are you ashamed of? They're fine pieces,"
"It's not that," you clutch the book to your chest. "It's just- uh- weird, isn't it?"
Vil scoffs. "I'm weird?"
"NO! I meant- I didn't even know you, and I drew you almost every day- that isn't... strange?"
He takes a moment to study you, your body language, the embarrassed look on your face. From head to toe. And then he smiles, warmly.
"I am in a dorm with Rook. There are very, very few things that I find strange now. You admire me- I'm flattered,"
He gingerly takes sketchbook out of your arms and opens it again. "Not to mention, you have an artistic eye that any director would kill for."
You stand there, a little dumbfounded, but mostly very, very grateful that he's your friend, and that you can laugh about this together.
"I'm... well... thank you," you finally say.
Vil smirks, and pinches your cheek. "You're precious. Now, back to work. I want this room over with. These paintings won't frame themselves, will they?"
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