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pampushky · 2 months ago

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Mon Petit Doudou

Pornstar! Charles Leclerc/Pornstar! Reader - 7.4k

here it is!! enjoy! please reblog and share and all that lovely stuff! getting your comments makes my day and seeing how excited everyone was for this made me super happy :)

uhhh anyway. Might be a bit inaccurate, I'm not all that well versed in BDSM stuff so if anything is like... a super negative connotation within the community that's inaccurate (besides one character who has bad etiquette for plot reasons sorry)

anyway lmk what ya think lmao

masterlist |

He was too beautiful to be doing something like this for a living. With those bewitching hazel eyes. The effortlessly styled hair. His athletic build. The sweet slur of his accent as he lowered his voice to a sultry level when he talked to you.

But weren’t you as well? Wasn’t that why you fought so hard for your anonymity? That was why you had only ever allowed your mouth or lower to be seen in any stream or video, combined with the concealer that hid away any tattoos or marks from the prying eyes of those who watched you pleasure yourself on camera. Why you never wore your glasses to any professional shoot. It became a necessity to dress so differently on and off screen.

So why did it feel so weird now? Two of you, the same profession between you as you discuss plans for your… collaboration. Charles smiles at you. Stubbly beard and white teeth, a bit of the foam from his coffee clinging to his mustache. Perfectly styled hair as though he’d just stepped out of a convertible. You know you look similar. The soft cardigan slipping off your shoulders. Exposing the delicate tattoos of rue on your upper arms that circled your biceps and danced up to your shoulders.

Herb-of-grace. Purity. Innocence. How ironic for you, considering what your profession had turned into. From a part-time job to a serious career that often ended up having better benefits and more money.

Charles leans forward, whispering something in French you don’t quite catch, making you frown as he cackles, leaning back. Other tables at the cafe look at the two of you, and you can see the adoration in their eyes. You look like the perfect couple. In a way, you are, just not a romantic one. A spoiled rotten sub and the protective, sweet dom.

“I think you should let them see the tattoos, no? I think they would like it,” Charles says, shit eating grin on his lips. “What does the rue flower represent again?” Because he damn well knows what it means, he just likes to tease you.

“You’re impossible,” you take a steady sip from your cup, looking down at the journal that you’d brought to jot any ideas or notes down in. “You are aware of that, right?”

“But the people like it.” Charles leans back with a shrug. “So. To continue…”

If only the other tables were close enough to hear any of your discussion. To hear the things he was suggesting. But you couldn’t even protest against most of his ideas— they were appealing. Sponsorship deals that both of you had been offered. Not only would your audience like it, but… well, you would enjoy it as well. You can’t help but the little smile that makes its way onto your lips when he nudges you under the table with his foot.

“Don’t play footsie with me,” you kick him back gently, making sure to just brush his shin. “Who said it was my foot?”

“Har har.” You roll your eyes, but Charles kicks you again, and you can’t help but laugh with your head tilted back. “And was that your foot, this time?” “Wouldn’t you like to see, hm?”

The rest of the video series is figured out pretty easily. The safewords, plot, who’s going to edit the videos (Max will. He’s one of Charles’s buddies who you’ve seen edit together the most filthy things from previous collaborations and blending everything together with a straight face while sucking on a fancy bendy straw leading to a tall can of Red Bull). You’re comfortable with it all, even asking if Max would be willing to let you use the straw for your water bottle during filming breaks when shooting more traditional videos.

“Probably not. He’s very protective of it,” Charles says sagely, watching as you just doodle loops and loops of ink into your journal. “Do you still use the same brand of concealer? Just so I can have it on hand. The other bottle you gave me expired.”

“Ah, no, ended up having a bad reaction with it the last time I used it,” you scratch your neck and shrug the cardigan back on. Covering up the twin rue tattoos. “I’ll text you the new brand. I can bring it, too, because it’s a bit pricy…”

“Don’t worry about it, I can get it.”

“Yeah?”

“Of course,” Charles looks down at his phone when you text him the link, frowning more so about how you had thought you’d even need to think about buying it. A bottle of your matching shade is ordered by the end of his sentence. “You know that.”

“Tattoo seals are also a good thing to use,” You turn to reach into your bag, missing the way that he traces over the leafy, flowering tattoos on your shoulders. You push a few of the little stickers across to him, and he raises an eyebrow. “Don’t have to worry about replacing or cleaning the sheets, then.”

“Hm. My smart girl,” His praise falls easily from his lips, and he doesn’t miss the way your gaze seems to soften for just a second after it. “I’ll let you know,” Charles snaps a picture of a few and pushes them back towards you. “Stream in a few days then? Don’t forget the collar, mon chou,”

You just laugh, leaning back in your seat while finishing your tea. Like you haven’t been discussing an upcoming scene that will take place in your next shoot with your dom over coffee. How you’ll split the costs and whatever monetization comes from the videos, while also letting him spoil you with the tea and pastries you love. It’s almost like a date. Perhaps in another life, it would be such an innocent thing, and not the planning of a semi-niche porn live stream.

Charles trails kisses down your neck, letting his stubble brush against you, chuckling as your skin flushes, leaving a wake of goosebumps and heated skin under his lips. The camera is on, but you don’t exactly see it, most of your face is pushed out of frame with how you’re lying across his lap.

“Are you going to be good, mon chou?”

One of his hands rubs softly on your back, while you’re laid across his lap. You’re face down, and you know you’re positioned in a way so that the viewers will be able to see all of your body. You squirm gently, and nod, trying to tilt your head back so that you’ll be a bit closer to his face. You lay so that you’re facing away from the camera. Your tattoos have been carefully covered with a mix of concealer and tattoo patches. It’s warm, and you feel safe, your mind fuzzy as you slip into subspace. Your hair falls in small waves around the duvet, like a halo.

Sitting comfortably against your neck is your newest collar. A lovely burgundy leather with brass d-rings and pressed eyes that have been carefully polished to shine. A few pendants hang off the D-ring, little gifts from Charles to you. The inside of the collar itself is lined with soft velvet, made to stop the skin from chaffing. Admittedly, Charles had splurged on it for you, wanting you to have only the best as he worshiped you.

“Uh uh uh,” His hand moves to cup the small of your back to stop your squirming. “Doudou, they want to see you. Don’t move so much,” He looks over at the screen, where a few messages are beginning to pop in. A few donations pop onto the stream’s overlay, displayed for all to see, along with the chat on the side, displayed by one of his other monitors.

ugh she’s so cute (€5) Is that a new collar? Looks so cute on her!! (€10) awww!! she’s getting so excited!! happy to see you both <3 (€20) Such a good girl, listening so well already (€5) Make her answer the question. Give a sub an inch and they’ll take a mile. (€50)

Charles frowns at one of the more recent messages in the chat. Very rarely did he ever need to punish you for being a brat or acting out of turn. Whenever he did do this, it was always scripted for the viewers. Played up, and a rare event that usually came after a request was put in for it, along with a substantial amount of money. But fifty euros is nothing close to what would substantiate any punishment, so he brushes over it and smiles at the chat as more tips and excited messages drop in.

“Oh, mon chou, they’re so happy to see you again,” Charles whispers, watching as the viewer count starts to grow as people tap on the notification that you’ve both gone live. More comments in the chat pour in. “Yes, she’s been so good lately, haven’t you, ma moitié?”

He runs a hand up and down your back, and then gently squeezes the swell of your ass. You squirm a little bit again and make a needy noise rather than answering.

Make her answer. She seems like a bit of a spoilt sub, needs a reminder of who’s in control. (€50)

The message donation floats on the stream overlay for a few seconds, before being replaced by more donations. The chat is a mix of more praise and excitement along with a handful of confused ‘???’ about the last donation message. It’s the same username as the other donation that had confused him a bit. His mouth quirks down into a frown before he quickly masks it with a little smirk as he looks down at you.

“Doudou, have you been good?” Charles whispers softly in your ear, leaning down to ask you. His stubble brushes over your skin, and he gently rubs your lower back, encouraging you to speak. “They want to hear your sweet voice, bébé.”

“Uh–huh,” you mumble out, starting to squirm again. “Been good, sir.”

“Yes or no, bébé,” Charles gently reminds you, his touch still reverent around your skin as you lay across his lap, stomach facing down. “I know you have, but our lovely friends watching you don’t.”

“Y-yes, been so good,” your voice is soft, and his heart melts. Charles is already a very soft dom towards you. Never pushing. Never raised his voice. He doesn’t like using any crops or toys that can verge on pain. That’s just what the relationship between the two of you had become.

she’s so cute!! Aaksfhasl so so good for us!! I just wanna see her cute little face (T^T) She’s so eager to please!!

The chat is a blur at this point. Mostly compliments for your good behavior and how eager you appear to be to start the steam. Lovingly, Charles rubs your back again. Kisses the top of your head, and then gently starts to finger you open, prepping you for what you’d both discussed for today’s streams.

“There’s a bunch of toys we’ve gotten today,” Charles leans back to grab the little basket of toys, reading out their names and the slightly dry sponsor segments he knows he has to read. He lifts each one to show the camera, and you press your legs together with a whine as he reads out the descriptions the sponsors had given him for each toy.

He tilts his head back to laugh a little bit at your desperation and softly kisses the small of your back.

“You should have seen her the other day,” Charles looks at the camera, while you let out little squeaks. You’re still on his lap and trying your best to keep still as he gently pumps in and out of you with his ring and middle fingers. “She was so good. Even when she had a plug in.”

Hot hot hot omg

You squirm slightly at his words. Whining softly. Staying as still as possible just like he’d told you, lost in the sweetness of subspace. The tip of his middle finger brushes against a very special, spongy spot inside of you that has you keening into the duvet on Charles’s bed.

“Oh? Did I find something?” Charles feigns disinterest while curling his fingers to press just a bit harder into your G-spot. He reaches with his other hand to grab the camera, wanting the chat to have a good view of your folds clenching around his fingers tightly. When he pulls his fingers out, they glisten with your wetness, and your sweet hole tightens around nothing. “Look at you, so responsive for me,”

He brings himself to a slower pace, no longer thrusting his fingers in and out of you with the same rigor as he had minutes before. You wiggle your rear at him again, craning your neck to look over your shoulder at him with a little sigh, your pleading look invisible to the camera. Just as his lips quirked into a small smile over your sass, another donation popped up just as he pressed the camera back onto its little stand.

What an indignant little thing. Put her in her place, hopefully this helps you grow a pair. (€100)

Charles holds back every childish instance to flash his balls to the camera just to specifically show this donor that he does indeed have a pair, and a rather substantial set at that. You whine again, and without really thinking, he brings his palm down onto your left cheek, the one closest to the camera. It’s not too hard, and it sounded worse than it actually was. You let out a little yelp, and still, your hands fist in the duvet covers even tighter, looking over your shoulder at him with wide, shocked eyes.

“You know better than to whine, you’ll get what you want,” Charles' gaze softens, and he already feels a bit of regret for spanking you without warning. The collar around your neck shifts a bit, some of the pendants hanging off the D-ring jingle together from how you’d jerked your head back to look at him. The little bell on the collar chimes sweetly, and soothingly, Charles continues to rub your left cheek, leaning down to softly kiss you out of frame. You whine, and he swallows all your noises, before leaning back in, looking at the camera while lovingly soothing the skin where he’d smacked down.

To some satisfaction, he can’t see any new donations from that particular donor. He’ll make sure you feel nothing but loved, with the two hundred euros the person had dropped on it. Charles just smiles again, letting his hand still on your lower back, continuing with the stream as planned.

An hour in and he’s had you nearly cumming on one of the rabbit toys sent to you. It’s smooth, and the actual toy part is a lovely mint green color. A very nice one, with several different speeds used to keep you squirming and whining softly under his touch. Small sighs of “—Sir— please—” and “Ch—Charles—” fall from your lips ever so often, and he even manages to coax a loud moan from your lips, which the chat goes insane about. When you do climax, you don’t even have the where-with-all to try and warn Charles. And he doesn’t even mind, he’s always been happy to just let you chase your own pleasure and highs.

You whine, slumping against him, feeling him pull the still-vibrating toy from your folds. Your clit is puffy and engorged, and the chat loves to see how you whimper as Charles brushes his fingers through your folds, holding the camera close to give everyone a good view of your still-twitching cunt.

so pretty now give her another!! Her whines omg Good Girl <3 (€25) Such a cute little sub Wish i had a dom to take care of me like she does waaaa

Despite himself, Charles smirks, knowing his face is out of view while he gives everyone a good view of your slick heat. The donor who’d been provoking him hadn’t said anything in a while. He grins at every little noise you make, especially with how you whimper at his touches, still sensitive. But you don’t move away— you know you’re safe, and that he’d never do anything to harm you. You have safewords for that exact reason, and you’d never had to use them outside of practice scenarios Charles would make you do just in case.

He settles the camera back onto its stand, tilting it down so that the stream can also see a bit of himself. He’s shirtless, wearing a pair of gray sweatpants that hang low around his hips. The waistband of his boxers is visible, showing off the V-line of his lower body, and the happy trail of dark brown fuzz that crawls up his torso.

“Did you like that one, mon chou?” Charles croons, moving so that he blocks the view of the camera, purposefully hiding your pretty face so that you have a bit of time to reposition yourself. “Hmm?”

“Mhm,” your voice is dreamy, and your head lolls uselessly to the side as he strokes your cheek. “S’good…”

There’s no need for you to call him ‘sir’ at this moment. He doesn’t even really enforce the title, it’s just something that slips out occasionally while he takes care of you. It’s adorable, in all honesty, the way that you talk when he’s truly gotten you into the hazy, carefree state that is your subspace, never so much as raising his voice when talking to you. That’s his brand. That’s your brand. Just a needy sub and soft dom pairing that verged on Charles having an obsession with you cumming and feeling safe while he’s there.

The rest of the stream goes about as planned. Charles tries a variety of new toys on you, ranging from a dual-purpose clitoral suction toy that doubles as a dildo to vibrating anal beads that you are not much a fan of, but let him try them on you for the sake of experimentation. It all comes to the grand finale of Charles then having you bounce on his lap as you ride his thick cock, your walls clenching around him as you whine and wail out pleas for him.

“That’s it, mon chou, you’re being so good for me, always so wonderful,” Charles squeezes your waist, guiding you up and down on his lap as you whine out a sound that might be his name. The camera has a wonderful view of your back, zoomed in to specifically see the way he slides in and out of you. Your cream covers his cock.

You lean against him, your forehead on his shoulder as you gasp and pant. He can feel the way you’re loosely gripping onto his shoulders, not strong enough to scratch his skin, but certainly hard enough to remind him that you were here, if the warm wetness of your cunt somehow didn’t.

“Where do you want me? Where, mon chaton?” Charles whispers against your head, and he is rewarded by you looking at him with a hazy glance, just for him.

“I-inside,” you whimper, trying to lean against him further, trying to get him to press his face against yours, stopped only by the fact that he needs to keep your face out of frame.

So he gently moves so that both of your faces are out of frame, his stubbled cheek against yours. Thrusts growing more rapid until you clench around him, trying to milk his cock for anything he may give you. He finishes a minute after, twitching inside of you, and breathing hard as he comes down from his high. In the back of his mind, Charles imagines his cum settling in your womb. Making a baby. Seeing you grow round as the months passed, needing help with simple things. Perhaps it would have if it weren’t for your implant and his vasectomy. Just precautions of the trade.

Gently, he pulls himself from you, still panting. He brings the camera closer, giving the viewers a good look at how his seed trickles from your folds, mixing with your release.

hot!! Eeeek!! breeding kink breeding kink She’d look so fucking cute all round with a baby Give her a baby!! (€20)

Charles pauses the camera feed for a few minutes, gently wiping at your core with a warm cloth and praising you endlessly as you mewl helplessly. The chat feeds into his little fantasy. He thinks about you as his housewife. Coming home from a normal office job rather than a studio shoot with other people. Kissing the rue flower tattoos on your shoulders lovingly, while his hands come to hold the little bump of your pregnant belly.

But with a shake of his head, it’s gone. Because that isn’t your relationship with him. So he turns the camera back on with you settled in his lap, wearing a pair of his boxers and one of his hoodies. You’re curled up happily, face nuzzled into his shoulder, hiding everything away from the camera’s view. He can feel you placing almost sleepy kisses on his neck, along with the contented sighs you’re making.

As is the normal routine, Charles thanks everyone for their donations, while also allowing viewers to make requests in the chat. Answering questions about the little break from any streaming and videos the two of you would normally do. This is usually when more of the donations sweep in, much bigger ones. The notifications are delayed, and his eyes nearly bulge out of his head when he sees one rather large donation come through.

I’d like to commission something of the two of you. I’ll be reaching out to your business email after the stream, just to ensure that this tip doesn’t bounce. (€800)

It’s the same username as the donor who had dropped €200 earlier in the stream. Part of Charles feels incredibly uneasy over whatever this commission could entail, simply based on the comments they had made in their previous donations.

But if they had been able to give over €1000 in a single stream…. Which was nearly a third, if not more, of the total donations…

You shift slightly in Charles’ lap, bringing him back to the present. You’re still lost, he can see that by the distant, glazed-over look in your eyes. What you need right now is a good bath, a bottle of water, and something to snack on while he massages the knots from your back. You can talk about the possibility of something like a commissioned video later.

“That’s…. Hm, we’ll have to see about that, won’t we, bébé?” Charles grins, pressing a chaste kiss against your forehead, before bidding farewell to the stream, and turning off the camera. The donations still pour in for another thirty minutes, and that’s when Charles gets the light ping that everything’s done downloading, right as he’s gotten you to finish a bottle of water. He sends it to Max immediately, who’s already gotten the rough outline of how the video should look. Charles will go over to his apartment tomorrow to work on the specifics of what everything should look like, and then send the link to you for final approval to post. Knowing Max, the Dutchman is likely just starting to wake up as the world is going to sleep. He’ll probably have a mockup done just as the sun starts to rise.

For now, Charles turns his focus to you, watching as you slowly munch on goldfish crackers, as if deep in thought. It’s funny, really, you’re so lost in your thoughts and somewhat spaced out still. But when you look at him, he can see the little grin on your face as he walks over to you. Letting you curl into his embrace.

“You’re all sweaty.”

“Mm. I was fucking you rather hard near the end.”

That makes you giggle, and you look up at him with a mischievous little grin. “You also spanked me.”

“I did.” Charles swallows a bit of his guilt down. “Are you sore?”

“No. It was… just unexpected.” You fiddle with the strings of his sweatpants, and he plays with the hair at the back of your head. It’s domestic and sweet. It could be a scene from the everyday life of any young couple. Charles feels like he’s in the wrong for wishing it was. “It startled me a bit. Nothing bad.”

“Sorry.”

You just shrug, and let him help you out of the hoodie. With the utmost care, he peels off the tattoo seals. Wipes away the concealer. And helps you into the shower, washing away any of the stubborn bits of makeup that insisted on staying behind. The rue flowers bloom under his touch, and without really thinking, Charles kisses them, his lips trailing around your shoulders and upper arms as if he’s worshiping some idol.

It’s the most intimate thing someone’s ever done for you. And Charles realizes he may have just crossed a serious line, looking back at you like a deer in the headlights as you stare at him over your shoulder, with a mildly sleepy gaze. His hands start to shake.

“Why’d you stop?”

The way you tilt your head is sinful. That someone so innocent and willing to give and submit your body to him also looks at him in such a way. Asking such obvious questions when you already know the answer. Entering a relationship because of your shared profession with him could be catastrophic. You both work in such a niche of your industry when it comes to the kinks and roleplays you’re willing to work through that both of you would be screwed if feelings got in the way of your work.

“Because we shouldn’t take it any further,”

“What if I want you to?”

Charles nearly chokes on his surprise. The water is still warm around him. Your hair still has the conditioner in it, just soaking on your scalp as you wait for him to help you wash it out.

“That’s a bad idea. We shouldn’t.”

“But you were just kissing my tattoos.” Your brow furrows. “That’s hardly the porn we normally shoot.”

“It’s— it’s not about the porn—”

“Then ask me out.” You say it so plainly. As if it’s that easy… and maybe it is. “I like you.”

“What?”

“I like you. You seem to like me.”

“I do like you!” Charles blurts out. And then blushes violently, his pale skin turning a vibrant pink-red as he starts to rinse the conditioner out of your hair, making you turn away from him so he doesn’t get any of it in your eyes. He still feels guilty for spanking you without much warning. “But don’t you think this could be weird—”

“I think it could be nice.” You sigh, leaning into his touch. Entrusting him to put you back together after breaking you apart. “Don’t you?”

He can’t bring himself to speak after that. Drives you home. You watch him from the window of your apartment as the rear lights of his car fade away.

The moment Charles is out of sight, he goes to Max’s flat. Pounding on the door hard until the disgruntled Dutchman opens up. He can hear Daniel moving around somewhere in the apartment, talking to one of the cats as Charles stands dumbly at the threshold of the happy couple’s home.

“What?”

“I think I’m in love with her,” Charles blurts out, and Max just scowls further.

“Mate, I could have told you that!” Daniel calls from deeper in the house, as Max pulls the panicked man inside, making him sit down in the cozy living room. Max’s computer set up is pushed into the corner, with a cat tower beside the desk. Sassy currently sleeps happily on the highest little bed, while Jimmy weaves through Daniel’s legs as the Australian offers a slice of pizza to Charles. “What finally made you realize?”

“She— she told me to ask her out. Wait— does that count as her asking me out—?”

Charles’ voice grows more frantic, and his hands go to his hair as he starts to pace in the living room. Both cats watch him go back and forth, while Max settles at his desk, opening the file to start editing.

“Who cares? Do it. You’ve been making moony eyes at her for the past year of working with her.” Max grumbles, clearly unamused by the drama of it all.

“We make porn together!”

“So? That’s how I met Max.” Daniel tilts his head, at which point Jimmy does the same. The Monegasque frowns at him. “Didn’t stop us.”

“You’re both gay.”

“Ouch.” Max’s stoic tone is somehow cutting, even when he’s focused on the screen, pulling up the video Charles had sent to him, and then the outline on the other monitor. “I don’t see how that changes anything. The only difference is that I was Daniel’s editor rather than costar.”

Charles flops onto the couch. Daniel just looks down at the man, before looking over his shoulder at his boyfriend. “And how’d you respond?”

“What?”

“How did you respond to her asking you out?”

His face goes blank, and a look of realization dawns on his face.

“I panicked?”

“How badly?”

“I kept— okay I responded pretty badly,” Charles admits, and then groans right into his hands, rubbing his face in frustration. He keeps thinking about how he’d kissed your tattoos. Had he inadvertently made you feel like you could ask that? Furthermore, were you really, truly asking that, or were you still somewhat caught up trying to be a good sub?

Images of you sleeping in his bed as the morning sun rises conjure up in his mind, followed by cooking together in the kitchen of his flat, and he can’t help but groan angrily at himself for letting such a fantasy with someone who he could call his coworker appear in his mind at this moment. You, smiling up at him with that coy grin on your face as you sit across from him at the cafe, brushing your foot against his shins while sipping at your cup of tea. Your feet up on his lap while reading a book on his couch, pure domestic bliss.

“Fuuuuck,” Charles just keeps his hands on his face. “She’s gonna hate me.”

“She’s not going to hate you,” Daniel tries to comfort him. “Just tell her you need time to think about it.”

“No but— I was also sending mixed messages,” he mumbles, and he hears a long, drawn-out sigh from both Max and Daniel. “I was kissing her shoulders. I— I couldn’t help it, I felt bad, I kinda spanked her without warning earlier in the stream—”

“Gross.”

“I know! But this one donor was getting so pissy about how she was responding—”

“I’m sorry, you let someone who was watching and imagining touching her dictate how you were actually touching her?” Daniel raises an eyebrow, and he folds his arms across his chest. “Dude. You’re her dom, not to mention how many times you’ve been with her. Why would you get so possessive then?”

Maybe he is a bit possessive. Last year, during a studio-based shoot when another dom had been too rough with you, using your blindfold to practically drag you around the set, and spanking you much harder than he had originally implied he would, Charles had immediately cut the camera and kicked the man out of the room, not even letting him get dressed. He’d gone straight to your side after that, checking you were okay for nearly an hour before even considering letting the filming start again.

That had earned him a bit of a reputation as possessive over his subs, you in particular. The lack of collaborations with any other actors certainly hadn’t helped much either, with your last one being with Daniel almost half a year ago, and that one had been a cuckolding video, where he had posed as the husband watching his wife getting fucked and bred by another man, not even touching you throughout the process besides a scripted kiss at the end.

Now, Charles feels like he is 1.) the stupidest man on planet Earth and 2.) just passed up on an opportunity that you had presented him on a silver platter. He stares up at the ceiling as Daniel looks down at him. Maxis typing away in the corner, and makes a little ‘hm’ noise, likely getting to the part of the stream where he’d spanked you.

“Wow. That sounded bad. Didn’t leave a mark though,” Max hums, and then starts to type again, before making a much more distressed noise. “No fucking way— Dani! It’s the fucking guy again!”

“Wha— really?” Daniel dashes over to look at the screen while Charles stays on the couch. “Ugh. What a fucking creep.”

That piques some interest.

“What?”

“Yeah— the guy with the weird dono? Total creep. Tried to commission me into some weird, non-con roleplay. Wanted to do a solo stream for just him, totally ignored all of my rules for that stuff, and outright told me to ‘Just suck it up’ when I used the safeword for some of the shit he was saying about me.” Daniel shivers, and for a moment, Max looks like he wants to strangle the man until his boyfriend squeezes his shoulder. Charles's blood runs cold.

“What?!” Charles looks over the username again. MattiaBinn. “Jesus fucking—Je le tuerai moi-même pour avoir voulu que je fasse une telle chose avec elle—”

“English, Charles.”

“I’ll kill him myself,” Charles growls, and starts to march right towards the door, “I need to talk to her right now—”

“Or maybe we need to give her time to cool down,” Daniel reaches towards him, holding onto his shoulder and pulling him backward. “She probably still needs some space and to take care of herself after the stream, regardless of how much aftercare you did with her.”

Part of Charles hates that Daniel’s right. Another part of him says that no, you should be letting him take care of you. That’s what his job was as your dom, he was supposed to take care of you and make sure you didn’t experience sub-drop. You deserve only the best, and right now he’s not acting like that. Quite frankly, he’s being a bit of a self-righteous prick about his own feelings for you.

His phone pings with a notification, and out of pure irritation, he considers silencing it, until he sees it’s an email from a frankly disturbing email address. From: Mattia Binotto. Subject: Commissioned Private Stream.

“Oh, putain de merde,” Charles groans, and quickly scans through the email. It’s exactly as Daniel described. Non-con, harsher treatment, and quite honestly, the opposite of nearly everything Charles did as a dom and that you would agree to. Infuriatingly, your business email has also been sent this. You text him not a second after he’s done scanning it.

Did you also get this?

It seems… uhm, interesting.

Attached is a screenshot of the email. You’re awake, at the very least. Alert enough to be checking your business email. He texts back quickly.

I’m not doing any of that.

That’s not the shit I do. Fuck.

…okay.

Sorry, you seem to be in a bad mood.

It’s not your fault

Please don’t blame yourself for any of this, mon doudou

I kinda feel like it is…

I didn’t mean to push any boundaries or make you upset about this

I am sorry, Charles.

Charles wants to bash his head against the wall because now he feels like utter shit for making you feel guilty about his own stupidity. Just as he’s about to text you back you send him a goodnight text. When Daniel glances at the screen he visibly winces.

“Yeah. I’d give her some space.”

Space turns into a week. Instead of the normal collab stream, you do a solo one. Charles ends up watching it. You’ve got an array of toys behind you, most pretty pastel colors or swirling abstract designs that make an odd pit settle in his stomach at the idea of them bringing you pleasure rather than him.

You’re currently fucking yourself on a dildo he’d gifted you, shaped like… certain sweet treat. It was meant to be a bit of a gag gift— the name of it was called the banana split, for Christ’s sake— but seeing you fuck yourself on it made him groan, palming the hardness in his pants as you gasped and whined. You were wearing one of his hoodies too, muffling your little noises into the sleeves. And the chat was loving it, encouraging you to keep going.

And then the fucking donation showed up from that fucking prick Mattia.

Needy little thing. Do you think you deserve to cum? (€50)

The robot voice that read out the message had you whining, and you momentarily pause, before slowly lifting your hoodie to give the cam a better view, showing the slight bulge in your tummy from the toy resting inside of you before you started to bounce up and down on it again, rutting your hips forward as if that could provide some respite for the high you were chasing.

“Y-Yes—wanna cum—” Your face is hidden, as per usual, just off-screen, but at the very top, he can see how your chin wobbles a bit as if you’re currently panting with an open mouth, “Please please please please—”

Hold it. Not yet. Needy little sluts only get what they need when they’re good. (€50)

Rage bubbles in Charles’ stomach. Who the fuck did this asshole think he was, first of all, calling you a needy slut, and then acting like you were his to take care of. Charles makes a note to ban him from both of your chats as soon as this is over.

He can tell by your posture that you look startled, and the chat mixed. Some are telling Mattia to fuck off, while others are encouraging you to listen because Charles isn’t there. You whimper, confused, and Charles nearly screams, sprinting to get to his keys while the stream continues on his phone. He knows how insane he must look, having porn very audibly playing on his phone, but he doesn’t care, not as he starts his car and calls you. He can hear the phone in the background of your stream, and you whine even louder, the wet sounds of you fucking yourself on the toy pausing.

“Fuck, doudou, pick up,” Charles groans, his driving becomes more and more reckless as he gets closer to your apartment. “Pick up!”

The sounds of your stream seem to pause, and there’s a rustle as you move, hopefully reaching for the phone and—

Did I say you could do that, slut? Or are you too stupid to listen to directions? (€50)

Charles roars as he hears you let out a pathetic whine, followed by sniffles. How dare Mattia insult you like that, how dare he make you feel unsafe when you should be feeling nothing but safe and loved. He was going to find him. He was going to find whoever this Mattia Binotto was and beat the tar out of him.

“M’sorry— wanna be good—”

“You are good,” Charles’ mouth is dry, right as he pulls outside the front of your flat, with a half-assed park job that’s likely going to get him a ticket if he stays there until morning. “You’re so good, mon petit doudou, just hold on,”

You’re not being good now. Apologize, you useless little slut. No wonder your dom isn’t here. What a spoiled little sub. (€50)

Charles fiddles with the lock, searching for the spare you’d told him about, hidden under a fake rock right off of your stoop. He opens the door, nearly forgets to close it behind him, and screams out your name as he tears through the kitchen.

Find your biggest toy for me. And show us how badly it hurts. Do it if you want to be good for me (€50)

When he manages to get to your room, you’re startled by his sudden appearance, and so is the chat. There’s a new, much larger toy positioned under you, the tip just brushing against your folds. The first thing that Charles does is cut the camera. The next thing he does is end the stream. A final donation, clearly placed before the stream ended appears on the screen, all the notifications from the tip jar making a discordant melody with your hiccuping sobs and Charles’ panting.

The donation makes him see red.

Fuck yourself. Slow. Let me hear you cry. (€50)

You let out a whimper, shaking, as you sink onto the toy, only to be scooped up by Charles. He doesn’t give a shit that he’s knocking around the toys and is probably making his possessive reputation worse. He’s not going to let you hurt yourself because some fucking pervert got in your head, and he’s furious that you’ve fallen for the same manipulation he did.

“M’sorry— m’sorry, I wanna be good—”

“You’re so good, tu es si bon pour moi,” Charles croons, rocking you back and forth, holding you close as you cry into his chest. “I’m here. I’m here. You don’t have to do any of that. Let me take care of you.”

It takes nearly thirty minutes to get you to stop crying. You keep your face pressed into his shoulder, shaking as Charles soothes you, humming softly to you. He speaks in French, knowing that you enjoy the way his voice sounds when he speaks it.

“Can you tell me where you are, Doudou?”

“In my bed,”

“Wonderful job, so smart for me,” Charles praises, kissing your forehead softly. Your grip tightens on his shirt, and he can feel a small huff of air against his skin when you breathe out. “And what’s my name?”

“Charles. You’re Charles.” You murmur. “How did you get in here…?”

“Spare key.” He shifts so that you can look at him, one of his hands coming to cup your cheek. His thumb brushes under one of your eyes, the skin sticky from tears. “I was… I was watching the stream.”

“Oh.” You lean against his chest, letting him stroke up and down your back. You nuzzle into the collar of the hoodie. Charles presses his nose into your hairline, inhaling your scent, while keeping his lips against your forehead. “So you….saw…”

“He’s banned. It’s the same guy from the commission email.” There’s a hint of rage in his voice, which fades the moment your nose nudges under his chin, dislodging him from your hairline.

“Thanks.” He can feel the curve of your lips turning into a smile as you nuzzle into him further. “My hero. Taking care of me, even when you’re upset.”

“I’ll always take care of you,” Charles’ voice catches in his throat at the admission, pulling away enough to look down at you. You, smiling up at him with that coy grin on your face, and a sleepy look in your eyes.

“It could be nice,” You murmur again, shyer than before. “You and me, couldn’t it?”

“I think it could be more than nice,” His lips are so close to yours, enough so that he can feel your breath against them. Charles has been balls-deep in you. Has fucked into you until you cream around his cock and sobbed out his name. But this is quite possibly the most intimate thing he’s ever done with you. “Really, really nice.”

The taste of your lips on his is divine as he holds onto your waist with one hand, and cups your face with the other. You giggle when he pulls away to catch his breath, and before he can even stop himself, he’s grinning and pressing you into the bed, blowing a raspberry against your cheek just to hear your shrill laughter and feel the butterflies in his stomach that appear every time you laugh around him.

“Mon petit Doudou,” He can’t stop the grin on his face as he kisses all over your face, looking down at you with nothing but adoration in his eyes. Your hair is fanning around your head like a halo. Your smile is infectious. And he can see a few blooms from your tattoos under the neckline of your hoodie. His hoodie. “Mine, mine, mine.”

“Yours, yours, yours.” You respond, curling into him happily as the two of you lay in your bed.

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fanfic #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 x y/n #formula 1 x reader #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 x you

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cera-writes · 3 months ago

Text

Like Nothing Matters

A/N: It's finally done!! I've been dying to write this one. This is based on the song 'Nothing Matters by The Last Dinner Party' Pairing: Remy LeBeau "Gambit" x F!Reader Tags: jealousy, one sided pining, angst, friends with benefits, friends to lovers, nsfw themes Summary: Reader has been pining for Remy's attention for as long as she can remember. But his attention has always been for Rogue. He's been using reader for sex, something he could never have with Rogue. Reader is tired of being used so she gives Remy an ultimatum.

The sun was setting, casting a golden glow over the city as Remy LeBeau leaned against the sleek, cherry-red convertible. His eyes were fixed on Rogue and Magneto, who stood a few feet away, their bodies close in a way that spoke of more than just mentor and student. Remy's jaw clenched, his hands balling into fists at his sides.

"Remy," you called softly, stepping up beside him. You followed his gaze, your heart sinking at the sight that always seemed to pain him. "You know you can't—"

"Gambit know what he can't have," he snapped, cutting you off. His voice was sharp, but there was a raw vulnerability beneath the surface. "But dat don' mean he can't want it."

I have my sentence now

At last I know just how you felt

You swallowed hard, your own feelings for Remy bubbling to the surface like acid. You'd been in love with him for so long, watching him pine after Rogue while you were right here, longing for him to see you. "Maybe we should go," you suggested, hoping to distract him from the scene before him.

Remy didn't respond immediately. He took a deep breath, his eyes closing briefly before he nodded. "Yeah, let's get outta here."

He led you to the convertible, sliding into the driver's seat with a practiced ease. You settled into the passenger seat, the soft leather cool against your skin. The engine roared to life, the sound echoing through the quiet street as Remy peeled away from the curb.

The city lights blurred into streaks of color as they sped through the streets, the wind whipping through your hair. You glanced at Remy, his profile illuminated by the passing lights, his expression unreadable. You reached out, your hand resting on his knee, a silent offer of comfort.

Remy glanced at you, his eyes dark and intense in the dim light. "Ya really wanna do dis?" he asked, his voice low and rough.

You hesitated, your heart pounding in your chest. "Do what?"

"Dis," he said, his hand covering yours, squeezing gently. "Us. Right now. Here."

I dig my fingers in, expecting more than just the skin

Your breath caught in your throat, your mind racing. You knew what this could mean, what it could lead to. But you also knew the risk, the potential heartbreak. "Are you sure?" you whispered, your voice barely audible over the hum of the engine.

Remy didn't answer. Instead, he pulled the car over to the side of the road, the tires screeching slightly as they came to a halt. He turned to face you, his eyes searching yours. "Remy need dis," he admitted, his voice thick with emotion. "He need... something."

You nodded, understanding more than he might realize. "Okay," you breathed, your resolve strengthening. "Let's do this."

Remy leaned in, his lips brushing against yours gently at first, then deepening the kiss with a desperate urgency. You responded, your hands finding his face, pulling him closer. The world around you faded away, the only reality the two of you, locked in this stolen moment.

His hands roamed over your body, his touch both familiar and thrilling. You gasped into his mouth, your fingers tangling in his hair as the kiss intensified. The car seemed to shrink around you, the air thick with desire. This was the sum of your relationship with Remy. It all boiled down to sex. You were a means to an end, nothing more.

'Cause we're a lot alike

In favor, like a motorbike

A sailor and a nightingale

Dancing in convertibles

"You can hold me," you murmured against his lips, your voice shaky with emotion. "Like he held her."

Remy froze for a moment, the words piercing through the haze of lust. He pulled back slightly, his eyes meeting yours, a storm of emotions swirling within them. "And whatta 'bout you, chere?" he asked, his voice raw. "What do ya want?"

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest. "I guess I'll just keep fucking you like nothing matters," you confessed, the truth spilling out before you could stop it.

Remy's eyes darkened, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his face. He didn't speak, his silence heavy between you. Instead, he kissed you again, his hands moving with a newfound intensity, his body pressing against yours as if he couldn't get close enough.

You let a soft moan escape your lips at his sudden urgency, wrapping your hands around his neck as your fingers entangled in his hair. The car rocked gently, the sounds of the city muted outside as you lost yourself in each other. Each touch, each kiss, felt like a secret shared, a betrayal of sorts, yet it was a connection you both craved. It was reckless, wild, and utterly consuming.

As the moments stretched into what felt like hours, you clung to Remy, your body melding with his, your hearts beating in sync despite the chaos of your emotions. You knew this couldn't last, that it was a temporary escape from the realities of your lives. But in this moment, with Remy, it felt like everything else ceased to exist.

"Remy," you whispered, your voice hoarse with passion. "Please..."

He kissed you fiercely, his response a mix of desperation and tenderness. You arched against him, your body aching for more, for completion. The world outside the car faded away, the only reality the two of you, intertwined in this stolen moment. The windows were fogged up past the point of no return as you gripped onto the seat, your breaths mingling in the confined space.

The night grew deeper, the city quieter as you explored each other, each movement fueled by a hunger that seemed insatiable. It was raw, primal, a dance of bodies and souls that defied logic and reason.

As the final moments approached, you clung to Remy, your breaths mingling in the dimly lit space. Your bodies moved together, a symphony of pleasure and pain, of longing and release. It was brutal and beautiful, a testament to the complexity of human desires.

"Remy!" you gasped, your voice breaking as the climax washed over you.

He buried his face in your neck, his body shuddering with the force of his release. You held him tightly, your fingers digging into his back, feeling the weight of the moment settle heavily between you.

For a long while, neither of you spoke. The only sound was the ragged breathing, the thud of your hearts trying to find a steady rhythm. You stayed locked in each other's arms, the aftermath of passion leaving you both vulnerable and exposed.

Eventually, Remy lifted his head, his eyes meeting yours. There was a depth to his gaze, a mixture of regret and wonder. "Dat was..." he began, his voice husky.

"Intense," you finished for him, your own voice tinged with uncertainty.

He nodded, his expression unreadable. "Yeah. Intense."

You shifted slightly, adjusting your clothes as you tried to gather your thoughts. He helped you fix the strap on your tank top. The air in the car felt charged, the silence between you heavy with unspoken words. You wanted to ask him what this meant, where it left you both. But the words stuck in your throat, too afraid of the answers.

Remy cleared his throat, his gaze shifting towards the window. "We should probably head back," he said, his voice strained.

You nodded, even though part of you wanted to protest, to demand more from him. But you knew better than to push. Not yet, at least. "Yeah, okay," you agreed, your tone resigned.

We've got the highway tight

The moon is bursting with headlights

One more and we're away

Love tender in your Chevrolet

He started the car, the engine roaring back to life as he pulled back onto the road. The city lights blurred once more, the world outside a kaleidoscope of colors. You watched it all pass by, your mind a whirl of thoughts and emotions.

As the car wound its way through the streets, you stole glances at Remy, trying to read his mood. He seemed lost in thought, his brow furrowed, his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly. You wondered if he was thinking of Rogue, or if, perhaps, for the first time, he was considering the possibility of something more with you.

The thought both thrilled and terrified you. You wanted him to see you, to acknowledge the depth of your feelings. But you also feared the rejection, the potential heartbreak. It was a delicate balance, one you struggled to maintain as the miles ticked by.

Finally, the car slowed, turning into the driveway of your residence. Remy parked the vehicle, the engine idling quietly as he stared straight ahead. You waited, unsure of what to say, what to do.

"Thanks for... tonight," he said eventually, his voice low. "It meant a lot, mon ami."

You nodded, your throat tight with emotion. "Yeah. Anytime."

He turned to face you, his eyes searching yours. "Can I see ya again? Properly?"

The question hung in the air, heavy and hopeful. You swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest. "Um... yeah. I'd like that," you answered honestly, your voice trembling slightly.

Remy smiled, a genuine warmth lighting up his features. "Good. 'Cause Remy think he might need ya."

You returned his smile, relief flooding through you. "Then I'll be here," you promised, your voice strong.

He leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a gentle kiss. It was brief, tender, a promise of more to come. Then he pulled back, his eyes locking with yours. "Until next time, cher," he murmured, his voice soft.

You nodded, your heart full as you watched him exit the car. The door shut quietly, the sound echoing through the stillness. You remained seated, your mind a whirl of thoughts and feelings.

As the car engine purred to life once more, you knew that whatever happened next, you were in it together. For better or worse, you had claimed your place in Remy's life, and he in yours. It was a beginning, a fragile hope amidst the chaos of your worlds.

The car pulled away from the curb, the headlights slicing through the darkness. You watched it disappear down the street, your heart swelling with a mix of anticipation and fear. But as the taillights faded into the distance, you knew one thing for certain: you were ready for whatever came next.

It was Saturday finally.

The sun had barely begun to dip below the horizon when Remy LeBeau, clad in his signature leather jacket and a mischievous grin, revved the engine of his black motorbike outside your house. You heard the deep rumble from inside, a sound that always sent a shiver down your spine—in more ways than one. Today was different, though. Today, he wasn't just here for a casual fling; he had something else on his mind.

You stepped out onto the porch, dressed in a simple yet elegant black dress that hugged your curves just right. Remy's eyes lingered on you a moment longer than usual, a flicker of something unreadable passing through his gaze before he offered you a helmet with a flourish. "Ready to ride, chere?" he asked, his voice smooth as velvet.

Nodding, you straddled the bike behind him, your arms wrapping around his waist instinctively. The familiar warmth of his body against yours should have been comforting, but there was an edge to it today, a tension that hadn't been there before. As he pulled away from the curb, the wind whipping through your hair, you couldn't help but wonder what tonight held in store.

The city lights blurred past as Remy weaved through traffic, his skill on the bike as impressive as ever. You clung tighter, your body pressed against his back, feeling the subtle shifts of muscle as he maneuvered. It was during these moments, when the world outside faded into a blur of motion, that you felt most connected to him—or at least, you had thought so until now.

After what felt like an eternity but was really just a few thrilling minutes, Remy slowed the bike to a stop in front of an old, ornate theater you hadn't noticed before. The marquee glowed with the words "Love Unmasked," a play that seemed oddly fitting given the circumstances.

Remy helped you off the bike, his hands lingering on your hips longer than necessary. "Thought we could start with a bit of culture," he said, a hint of uncertainty creeping into his usually confident tone.

Inside, the theater was dimly lit, the air thick with the scent of old wood and anticipation. Remy led you to your seats, his hand resting gently on the small of your back. The proximity sent a thrill through you, but it was tempered by the realization that this wasn't just another date. Something had changed, and you weren't sure you were ready for whatever it was.

As the lights dimmed and the curtain rose, you tried to focus on the stage, but your thoughts kept drifting back to Remy. His leg brushed against yours occasionally, a silent invitation or perhaps a plea for understanding. The play, a tale of hidden identities and forbidden love, seemed to mirror your own situation eerily.

Halfway through the performance, Remy leaned closer, his breath warm against your ear. "Chere, dere's somethin' Gambit need to tell you," he murmured, his voice low and urgent.

You turned to face him, your heart pounding in your chest. "What is it, Remy?"

He hesitated, his gaze flickering around the nearly empty theater before meeting yours again. "Remy... Remy think he been a fool," he admitted, his expression raw with emotion. "He thought he was jus' usin' you, but... he can't deny it anymore. Chere, I'm in love with you."

The confession hung heavy in the air between you, a mix of shock and relief washing over you. You had sensed something shifting, but hearing it aloud was both terrifying and exhilarating. "Remy..." you began, unsure of what to say.

Before you could respond, he continued, his voice tinged with desperation. "Remy know he don't deserve you, not after how he treated you, but he can't go on like this. Not knowin' if ya feel the same."

You reached out, taking his hand in yours, feeling the calluses from years of card-playing and thievery. "Remy, I..."

But the rest of your response was cut off by the sudden burst of applause as the actors took their bows. The spell was broken, the moment lost in the noise of the crowd. Remy looked away, frustration and regret etched across his features. "We should go," he said quietly, standing up and offering you his hand.

Outside, the night had grown cooler, the air crisp with the promise of autumn. Remy helped you back onto the bike, his movements mechanical, distant. As he started the engine, the roar seemed louder than before, a stark contrast to the quietude of his demeanor.

The ride back was silent, each of you lost in your own thoughts. The weight of Remy's confession lingered, a heavy burden neither of you knew how to bear. When he finally stopped in front of your house, he turned off the engine and faced you, his eyes searching yours for some sign of what to do next.

"Tonight... it meant a lot to Remy," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "He jus' need to know... d'you feel de same?"

You swallowed hard, the truth bubbling up inside you, desperate to be set free. "Remy..."

And we're a lot alike

In favor, like a motorbike

A sailor and a nightingale

Dancing in convertibles

You leaned in, your lips meeting Remy's in a passionate kiss that spoke volumes more than words ever could. The intensity of the moment seemed to shatter the silence that had enveloped you both. As you pulled him inside, the door to your place closed behind you with a soft thud, sealing the night and its revelations within.

Remy's hands found your waist, then moved upward, his grip firm as he pressed you against the wall. His kisses were sloppy yet hungry, each one a desperate claim on the emotions swirling between you. You felt the heat of his breath on your neck, the scratch of his stubble adding an edge to the tenderness.

And you can hold me like he held her

And I will fuck you like nothing matters

And you can hold me like he held her

And I will fuck you like nothing matters

With a hand on Remy's chest, you gently pushed back, creating space between you. He looked at you with concern. "You wan' me to stop, chere?"

"Remy," you whispered, looking into his eyes, "are you sure this is what you want? There are no more lingering feelings for Rogue on your part?"

His expression faltered for a moment, a flicker of doubt crossing his features before he steadied himself. "Chere," he said, his voice resolute, "Gambit is leavin' all dat in de past now. You... you're his future."

The sincerity in his words washed over you, a wave of relief and acceptance. You nodded, understanding the weight of his confession and the promise it held. Without another word, you drew him close again, your lips finding his once more, this time with a shared certainty that echoed through every touch, every kiss.

The night unfolded around you, each moment a step into the unknown, guided by the fragile thread of newfound love.

As you led Remy upstairs, the air seemed to thicken with anticipation. The soft glow from a nearby lamp cast long shadows along the walls, adding an intimate ambiance to the space. You could feel Remy's eyes on you, his gaze intense and unwavering as he followed close behind.

Entering your bedroom, you turned to face him, your heart pounding in your chest. Remy stepped closer, his hands gently cupping your cheeks as he leaned in, his lips brushing softly against yours. The kiss deepened, fueled by the emotions that had been simmering between you both.

"Chere," he murmured against your lips, "Gambit wants to show you how much y'mean to him."

You nodded, your breath mingling with his as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. Remy's hands trailed down your back, his touch electric as he slowly began to undress you. Slowly unzipping your dress revealed more of your skin to his appreciative gaze, his eyes darkening with desire.

As you stood before him, bare and vulnerable, Remy's hands roamed over your body, exploring every curve with a tenderness that spoke of his deep affection. You gasped as his fingers found sensitive spots, your head falling back as pleasure coursed through you.

Remy lifted you effortlessly, carrying you to the bed where he laid you down gently. He hovered above you, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation. Finding none, he lowered himself, his body pressing against yours as he kissed you again, this time with an urgency that left no doubt about his intentions.

The room filled with the sounds of your mingled breaths and the rustle of sheets as Remy made love to you with a passion that was both fierce and tender. His movements were deliberate, each thrust a declaration of his feelings, each caress a promise of his devotion. It was almost like this was your real first time together, like you were seeing each other in a new light finally, without the veil of pretending.

You clung to him, your fingers digging into his back as waves of pleasure crashed over you. The world narrowed down to just the two of you, the intensity of the moment consuming all else. Remy's voice, hoarse with emotion, whispered endearments in your ear, his Cajun accent thickening with each word.

"Je t'aime, chere," he breathed, his words a balm to your soul. "Remy loves you more than anythin'."

As the climax approached, the energy between you both reached a crescendo. With a final, powerful thrust, Remy shattered the headboard, the wood splintering loudly in your bedroom. You cried out, your voice merging with his as release washed over you both.

For a long while, you lay tangled together, the aftermath of passion leaving you breathless and sated. Remy propped himself up on his elbows, a mix of guilt and amusement playing across his features as he surveyed the damage.

"Damn... guess Gambit got a bit carried away," he admitted sheepishly, his hand stroking your hair tenderly. "But don't worry, chere, he'll buy ya a new one. A better one."

You laughed, the sound rich and warm, as you pulled him down for another kiss. "I think this one will do for now," you replied, your fingers tracing patterns on his chest. "But maybe we should test the new one first, make sure it's sturdy enough."

Remy grinned, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Challenge accepted, chere," he said, rolling onto his side to face you. "But right now, Gambit just wants to hold you. Feel you next to him."

You nestled closer, your head resting on his shoulder as you watched the shadows dance on the ceiling. The night outside grew deeper, but inside, the room was filled with a warmth that had nothing to do with the temperature. As sleep began to claim you, you felt Remy's hand tighten around yours, a silent promise of his presence and protection.

The next day dawned bright and clear, the sun casting a golden glow over the city as Remy and you stepped out into the morning light. The air was crisp, carrying with it the promise of change, much like the shift in your relationship with Remy.

He ushered you on the back of his bike. Remy seemed pensive, his usual playful demeanor replaced by a seriousness that spoke volumes about his internal struggle.

As you approached the Xavier Institute, the place where Rogue and Magneto had their shared quarters, Remy paused, his hand tightening around yours as you both hopped off his bike. "Chere, Remy need to do dis," he said, his voice low but resolute.

Even when the cold comes crashing through

I'm putting all my bets on you

I hope they never understand us

Nodding, you squeezed his hand in support. "I'm right here with you," you assured him, offering a small, encouraging smile.

Together, you entered the building, the atmosphere inside charged with the energy of the mutants who called this place home. Remy led you through the corridors, his steps purposeful as he navigated towards Rogue's room.

When you arrived at her door, Remy took a deep breath, steeling himself for what lay ahead. He knocked, the sound echoing slightly in the quiet hall. After a moment, the door swung open, revealing Rogue, her eyes widening slightly at the sight of you both.

"Remy? What's going on?" she asked, her voice tinged with concern.

Remy stepped forward, his expression unreadable. "Rogue, we need to talk," he said, his tone serious.

Rogue glanced at you, then back at Remy, her brow furrowing. "Sure, come in," she replied, stepping aside to let you both enter.

Inside, the room was cozy, filled with personal items that spoke of Rogue's personality. Remy sat down on the edge of her bed, while you remained standing near the door, giving them space but ready to offer support if needed.

"What's this about, Remy?" Rogue asked, her gaze shifting between the two of you.

Remy hesitated, his hands clenching slightly before he spoke. "Rogue, we can't keep doin' dis. Pretending dat what we had is enough when it ain't."

Rogue's face paled, her eyes narrowing slightly. "What are you saying, Remy?"

"I'm saying that I'm moving on," Remy admitted, his voice firm despite the pain etched across his features. "Gambit care about you, Rogue, but not in de way he should. Not in the way that makes me happy. Gambit can't keep holding onto to de thought dat we could be somethin' one day. I'm sorry, chere."

Rogue's gaze flicked to you, her expression hardening. "And is this because of her?" she demanded, pointing at you, a look of hurt flashing across her features.

Remy shook his head, his voice steady. "No, it's not jus' cause of her. It's cause of Gambit. Cause he finally realized dat he deserve more, and so does she."

Rogue stood up, her hands balling into fists at her sides. "So, what? You're just going to throw away everything we had for some new fling? I mean... can't say I hardly blame you. I know Magneto and I-"

Remy shushed her, standing as well, his eyes meeting hers directly. "It's not a fling, Rogue. It's real, and it's what Remy need. What we both need."

The room fell silent, the tension palpable as Rogue processed Remy's words. Finally, she nodded, her voice thick with emotion. "Fine. If that's what you want, then go."

Remy's jaw tightened, but he didn't respond. Instead, he turned to you, offering his hand. You took it without hesitation, your heart heavy but determined.

I put my heart inside your palms

My home in your arms

Now we know nothing matters

Nothing matters

As you walked out of the room, leaving Rogue behind, you felt a mix of relief and sadness. Remy's hand was warm in yours, a tangible symbol of the new path you were walking together.

Outside, the sun had reached its zenith, bathing the world in light. Remy stopped suddenly, turning to face you, his eyes searching yours. "You okay wit' dis?" he asked, his voice soft with concern.

You smiled, though it wobbled slightly at the edges. "I'm okay with us, Remy. With whatever comes next, although, please don't feel like you two can't remain friends on my behalf."

He pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you in a tight embrace. You buried your face in his chest, breathing in his familiar scent, letting his warmth seep into your bones.

As you stood there, lost in the moment, Remy's hand drifted down to your ass, his fingers gently squeezing. You gasped softly, your body responding instinctively to his touch.

"Let's go somewhere else," he murmured against your ear, his voice husky with desire. "Somewhere we can be alone."

Nodding, you pulled back slightly, meeting his gaze with a mixture of excitement and anticipation. "Yes," you breathed, your voice barely above a whisper.

Wrapping your arms around his middle, you both rode away from the Xavier Institute, leaving behind the ghosts of the past as you stepped into the unknown future, ready to face it together, side by side.

And you can hold me like he held her

And I will fuck you like nothing matters

And you can hold me like he held her

And I will fuck you like nothing matters

And you can hold me, like he held her

And I will fuck you like nothing matters

And you can hold me like he held her

And I will fuck you like nothing matters, ooh

#xmen #x men 97 #cera writes #remy lebeau #gambit #gambit x reader #remy lebeau x reader

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illdowhatiwantthanks · 6 months ago

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The Spaghetti Squash (The Surprise, Part 12)

Emily Prentiss x fem!reader Warnings: pregnancy times, established relationship, literally so much fluff, just fluff on fluff on fluff, some explicit language (please let me know if I've missed anything!) Word count: 1.4k

Summary: As your pregnancy progresses, Emily starts to feel disconnected from the experience, sad that she can't feel what you're feeling. She tries to control what she can, but you help her see that letting go isn't the worst thing in the world.

Week 22: The Spaghetti Squash

“What about that one, Em? It’s pretty.”

You pointed to Emily’s laptop screen, at a nice, oval crib, made of natural wood. Very modern looking.

“Honey, I don’t care if it’s pretty. I care that it’s safe.”

“Well, I care if it's pretty. Click on it and see!” you badgered her, yawning.

You leaned heavily on Emily’s shoulder, trying hard to keep your eyes open. You’d been scrolling through baby site after baby site for nearly two hours now, checking things off Emily’s ridiculously extensive shopping list. Normally, you’d be interested. The problem was that Emily had to do a solid half hour of research into each and every item.

“Bossy…” Emily mumbled, lifting up her arm so you could snuggle into her chest. She scrolled through the page, looking at all of the crib’s features.

“Look!” You pointed at the screen. “It converts to a toddler bed and a kid bed. So it can grow up with her.”

“And it’s GreenGuard Gold Certified!”

“Wow.” Your voice dripped with sarcasm. “Adorable.”

“Hey,” she protested, pinching the skin under your arm. You squirmed and giggled. “I’m keeping him safe. You can keep him cute.”

You yawned again, shutting your eyes for a moment and sinking into her.

“Y/N,” Emily cooed, cupping your cheek and rubbing her thumb against it. “Stay awake, baby. You promised we’d get through five things tonight.”

You groaned, noncommittal.

“Y/N,” she prompted again, this time patting your face lightly.

“I didn’t know it was gonna take literal hours…” you grumbled.

“Here,” she said, lifting you up a bit and kissing your cheek. “You can pick what we look for next. Something fun.”

You squinted at her.

Her eyes were huge, and she had that hopeful, pleading half-smile that she knew would get you to do anything. As a final blow, she bit the corner of her lip. Fuck. She was just too irresistible, it wasn’t fair.

“Ugh. Fine.” You stretched and sat up as Emily placed the laptop in your hands.

“What do you want to look for?” she asked, looping her arm around yours and rubbing her thumb against your bare skin. She placed a quick kiss on your shoulder and nuzzled into your neck.

“Crib sheets?” you suggested, perking up. “I found a brand I really like.”

“Are they–”

“Green, gold, whatever-the-fuck certified?”

She blushed a bit. “Yes,” she said softly.

At this rate, you'd spend another hour and a half with Emily deep-diving on crib sheets.

“Emily,” you sighed, turning to look at her. “You are the love of my life and the mother of my child and I love you more than breathing. But for fuck’s sake, you’ve gotta cool it a little bit.”

Her eyes turned a little sad, a little embarrassed.

You continued, a bit softer now. “I know it’s just because you love her and you want to keep her safe. And I know it’s hard for you right now because I’m the one who’s carrying and I can feel her moving and this is the only thing you can control. But, baby, I promise you that a couple of 100% organic cotton crib sheets that might not have that super special certification aren’t gonna kill her.”

Emily was quiet. You turned to hold her face in your hands, tracing her angles, all her lines–you knew them better than you knew your own body. She smiled a little as you brushed her hair out of her face and kissed her forehead.

“Maybe you should be a profiler,” she chuckled, leaning into you and looking at the website you’d pulled up. “Goddamn.”

“Sorry,” you said, drawing her to your chest and tucking her head under your chin. “That was a little harsh.”

“No, you’re right.” Emily exhaled deeply and nodded. “Alright, let’s see these sheets.”

Your stomach did a little flip, excited to share one of your finds with Emily. So far, she’d picked most of the things, and you’d let her, knowing that the lack of control was hard for her.

“Okay.” You scrolled and clicked on a crib sheet, crisp white and covered with tiny dinosaurs. “I mean, look! It’s got little brontosauruses!”

In a rare show of letting go, Emily squeezed your arm and said, “Add it to the cart.”

“Really!?” you squealed.

“Yeah, of course, honey. It's cute.”

You kept scrolling, but Emily stopped your wrist. “Oh, baby, look at that one! It’s got bananas!”

“Adding it,” you decided with a dramatic click.

After a few more minutes of looking through crib sheets, you’d placed your order and shut the laptop for the evening, proud to have made it through all five of Emily’s predetermined list items. You knew you both needed to go to bed, but you were just so comfy sprawled on the couch. Emily’s head rested on your baby bump, and you carded your fingers through her hair.

“I’m sorry I’ve been so controlling about the shopping,” she whispered out of the blue.

“It’s okay, honey,” you said, softly massaging her head.

“No, it’s not,” she sighed. “I didn’t realize I wasn’t letting you pick anything.”

“Em, I promise it’s okay.”

She didn’t answer, instead running her hands along the side of your belly, as if feeling for something, anything.

“Has he been moving tonight?” she asked, her voice almost sad.

“Mmhm.” You hated to see her sad. You wished so desperately that she could feel what you were feeling. You didn’t want her to feel left out of the pregnancy. You didn’t want her to feel any less the baby’s mom than you were.

“Tell me what it feels like.”

You thought for a moment. “Mm… kind of like butterflies. Or, like, when you’re nervous and your stomach does a flip.”

She was quiet again, and you pulled her face up to your chest, pressing kisses to the top of her head. “It’s gonna be okay, Em. You’re her mom, too.”

“I know,” she mumbled.

“You know, I think the baby can feel you.”

“What?” She lifted her head a bit, looking at you quizzically.

“Maybe you can’t feel her yet, but I bet she can feel you. She can hear you, and I read today that babies feel their mom’s emotions.”

Emily looked up at you, her eyes shining a bit.

“I always feel happy and safe and loved when you’re with me. And that’s what she feels, too. She can hear you and she feels those things when you’re around because I feel them. So she knows you’re here. She can feel you.”

Emily blinked back a few tears and pressed her face to your stomach, planting a few kisses on your baby bump.

“I love you,” she whispered to your stomach, and you thought you might cry, too.

“Can you hear me, little one? I love you. Maman loves you so much.”

You let out a shaky breath, trying not to cry, trying (and mostly failing) not to let your overwhelming love for this woman turn you into an absolute puddle. For neither the first time nor the last, you were utterly flabbergasted that this was your life. That there was a baby inside you, growing strong and healthy. That the baby would have two moms, something you’d never thought possible when you were growing up, imagining your future. And, best of all, that you had Emily. Sweet, strong, beautiful Emily. Who loved you so well. Who made you so happy you sometimes thought you'd explode with it. How did you get so lucky? How was it that, despite it all, despite all the tragedies, big and small, along the way, you’d somehow stumbled into a life so good that it was, quite literally, beyond your wildest dreams?

“I love you, Em,” you blurted out, unable to stop yourself or stop the tears from brimming in your eyes.

She looked up at you, and you could tell she was happy, truly happy. And if you could do nothing else in your entire life except make this woman happy, you’d die satisfied.

She sat up a bit, pulling on the collar of your shirt to draw you into a kiss. A soft kiss, one that you melted into, one that reminded you of your very first. All butterflies and excitement for what was to come.

“I love you, too,” she said, pressing her forehead to yours. “So much.”

#emily prentiss #emily prentiss x fem!reader #emily prentiss fanfic #emily prentiss imagine #emily prentiss fluff #emily prentiss x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic

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jung-shook-iieee · 2 years ago

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3:15 | JJK

⊶ pairing : jungkook x venom x reader. (f)

⊶ Warnings : cw: 18+ , alien sex? Not technically lol, unprotected sex, creampies, size difference, size kink, belly bulge, stalking, mention of eating people.. Yikes *, overstimulation.

⊶ Word count : 1.4k

" Jungkook and venom really likes you. "

⊶ A/N : venom is scary. Isn't he? 👀

⊶ A/N2 : don't ask me why I wrote this I mean i was just watching an edit of jk x venom and in the next few moment I started writing this. Hehe :)

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

Jungkook and his alien buddy aka venom doesn't know if that is love.

They only know that you make their heart beats fast every time they see you; they know that their palms start to sweat when they watch you smile at men who are not them; they both know why their stomach stops growling when your eyes meet by sheer coincidence and they know their cocks gets hard when they silently watch you sleep, hiding in the darkness of your bedroom.

Even though jungkook's body accepted the symbiote but still venom needed permission from his higher ups to stay here a bit longer.

You won't believe how strongly jungkook and the symbiote had built their relationship over a short period of time. They were one after all.

They both followed you around town while you ran errands in that nice short sundress and picturing how you were wearing nothing underneath. They would learned the streets and routes you took when you went out shopping with your friends, the stores you liked best, the dishes you preferred to eat when you went out to lunch with them, the drinks you loved to sip on warm afternoons. They watched as you turned away men who approached you on the way home, the ones who whistled at you - and wasn't it quite mysterious why those men disappeared the next day?

And there's no way you would know that the symbiote ate them alive after you left. Right? :)

And they weren't always this crazy about you. They weren't even aware of your existence until that day. The day when you were going home back and you were drunk, some old perverts tried to molest you. You surely did not remember them, but the moment jungkook laid his eyes on you he lost it, and so did venom. They helped you did not they? Venom munched on their livers in front of you and you weren't even scared of that..!! That's how they knew you were the one.

But jungkook did not wanted to take risk so he asked venom not to do something stupid, which might scare you away.

But then why in the middle of the night you feel yourself being dragged out of your bed by a strange presence??? It must be your dreams, those filthy dreams which can not be converted into reality right? But the grip on your hips were too strong to be a dream.

Jungkook sometimes fail to resist you, he's a human after all! and venom would only ignite his filthy thoughts about you , so they both sneak in your room and sometimes he let venom take control.....!!!!

Jungkook easily lifts you by the waist. he rips off your panties with his thick fingers, his chest is hard as he pulls you toward him, and a thick cock begins to rub between your folds.

"we're gonna make you feel so good princess. " Venom speaks inside jungkook's mind and jungkook mumbled a ' yes. '

" She's ours gguk, make her ours. " Venom growls over jungkook's shoulders, jungkook nodded his head, " She's mine, she's ours. "

it certainly can't be a dream, right? not when your cunt is completely soaked and jungkook starts hissing in frustration when his thick cock doesn't fit your tight slit.

your head falls back as the thick tip of his cock rubs between your slick folds and brushed against your nub.

" Just fuck her goddam kid. " Venom grumbles impatiently.

" Shut up V. We don't want to wake her up now. It's too risky. " Jungkook warned venom.

" Then let her see us, feel us. Let me out I'll take her. " Venom said impatiently inside jungkook's head. Jungkook knew you would not be able to take the symbiote for sure, he would have to prep you for that first.

" No we can't do that right now, fuck fine wait. " Jungkook frowned and he slammed his inside you making you whimper in your sleep. You arched your back and opened your mouth slightly.

"feels good, doesn't it, pretty baby?" Jungkook asks clutching your hips and using you like a fleshlight.

your sloppy cunt makes obscene noises as you are rocked back and forth, your nails scratch his thick arms, and as you reach the edge you gush onto his long shaft.

his chest slowly rises and falls, Beel feels so frustrated. your sweet cunt is too tight for his monstrous cock - damn it, by dint of grinding his head into your slit he'll end up cumming even before he has tasted your smooth walls.

" Ahh. Sto-p." you sob, looking between your thighs, with blurry eyes, slick of pre-cum mixed with your cream coats his huge cock, sliding over your thighs and down your legs.

" Don't stop gguk she's desperate for us. You cannot stop. " Jungkook nods and bites lower lip as started thrusting faster inside you.

Venom increased jungkook's dick size inside you and you can't get enough of it. Your eyes we're teary you could clearly make the difference between a dream and reality but you couldn't utter any word. You weren't pushing him away either and that made jungkook confused

Jungkook holds you firmly under your knees before spreading your legs wide and taking a deep breath. "you smell good and i'm sure you taste even better," he licks his lips before lining you up on his cock.

"Yes she smells divine jeon, the next time I'm eating her out till she faints. " Venom said over jungkook's shoulder. Jungkook only laughed at that.

his cock bullies its way into your slit. he stretches and spreads your cunt inch by inch. you cream when he's half inside, making his job easier.

You moan and cry out as his big hands hold you firmly, . his fat cock throbs inside your slit - in the darkness of the room you can glimpse the outline of his cock in your belly. it makes you feel dirty and aroused, being used as a toy by that creature or human as if you were made just to satisfy those huge, hungry beasts.

Jungkook knows venom is making his dick too big for you, but nothing can stop him, not now that your pretty pussy tightens around his fat girth. his cock throbs as he thrusts deep into it, his balls finally hitting your ass as he begins to bounce you on his veiny shaft.

he tosses you up and down on his veiny cock clutching you behind your knees, holding you wide open as you scream and cum - and he thrusts even deeper, making you come again and again.

" She's such a good girl," Venom murmurs in jungkook's ear as your legs dangle over his forearms. you could cum again just from the position, you're sure.

you become a doll in jungkook's arms as he uses you, bounces you up and down, licks and sucks your neck, murmurs in your ear before filling your belly with his sticky seed

there's so much of it. more and more, there seems to be no end. fills your belly and overflows from your cunt. his cum gushes from your slit even though his thick cock plugs it inside.

when he pulls it out, a pop echoes in your room.

your mixed cum slides out of you and he casually drops you on the mattress. shocked and still shaking you try to catch your breath, your spread pussy is aching, and your limbs are flabby as you slump onto the pillow and fall asleep exhausted.

They both admire the view huffing, venom would fuck you the next time he already made that decision.

They kissed you and cleaned you, though venom was persistent on leaving you like this so you could remember this but jungkook cleaned you nevertheless. He's a good guy isn't he?

Jungkook tucked you under the blanket and left with venom.

maybe you'll have a different dream this time or maybe you'll dream them again. Because, it was a dream after all, wasn't it?

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

A/N 3 - do you guys like venom? I mean he's hot. 💀

@yellabella77 @g-o-bs--fanfictions @cherryunie @goofyhoffy @kooookie @miyaohyeahh @minpdrecs

* please help me grow my community. :)

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fanficlolsblog · 2 months ago

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GOOD LUCK, BABE!

back to my main masterlist

pairing: fem!reader x taylor swift

summary: Y/N is in a complicated relationship with taylor swift, where she wants more than just fun, but taylor isn't ready to commit. after a tough conversation, Y/N decides to end things, realizing they deserve more than casual affection. though it hurts, Y/N feels a sense of freedom and relief after walking away.

warnings: unrequited love, emotional distress, heartbreak, mention of casual relationships, mild language.

w/c: 1.4K+

The sun was setting, casting long shadows over the Nashville skyline as Taylor and I drove down the familiar streets, her vintage convertible cutting through the humid evening air. I had my hand out the window, letting the breeze whip through my fingers, but it did little to calm the storm inside me. I glanced over at Taylor, her silhouette bathed in the golden light of the setting sun. She looked perfect, like she always did—carefree, with her blonde hair flying in the wind and one hand draped lazily over the steering wheel.

She made it all look so easy. Being in her orbit was like standing too close to the sun, warm and intoxicating, but dangerous if I lingered too long. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to be there. It was that every time I got too close, Taylor would pull away, like she wasn’t ready to let me in, not completely.

And God, I wanted to be let in.

The past few months had been a blur of late-night drives, stolen glances, and moments that felt like they meant everything. I kept waiting for her to say something, to call this—call us—what it really was. But she never did. She’d brush it off with that effortless charm, always teasing, always deflecting, leaving me in the dark, wondering if I was just imagining things.

But I knew I wasn’t. It wasn’t just in my head. Those nights when she’d show up at my door, her eyes lit up with excitement, ready to escape into the night with me—those moments were real. They had to be.

Still, there was a part of me that had always known this wouldn’t be simple. Taylor Swift didn’t do simple. She was a universe all her own, and I was just a girl who had somehow found herself caught in her gravity. But now, as the sun dipped lower, and the city lights began to flicker to life around us, I was starting to realize I might be chasing something I could never catch.

The song on the radio faded, leaving us in a silence that felt heavier than the night. I wanted to say something, to ask her if this—whatever this was—meant something to her too. But I was scared of what she might say.

“You know,” Taylor said, breaking the quiet as if she’d been reading my mind, “we could just keep driving forever. Pretend like none of this is real.”

I turned to her, confused. “What do you mean?”

She shrugged, her eyes fixed on the road ahead. “I mean, who cares about labels, right? We’re having fun. Isn’t that enough?”

I felt my heart tighten in my chest. Fun. That’s all it was to her. Fun. A game. A secret. My stomach churned, and I looked out the window, blinking back the tears that were threatening to spill. I was falling for her, and she was treating this like it was just another adventure. Another thrill to chase.

“I guess I’m the fool, then,” I whispered, barely able to get the words out. I didn’t know if she heard me, or if she even cared. I just felt small, like I was something to be enjoyed and then discarded when the excitement wore off.

Taylor sighed, her fingers tapping lightly on the steering wheel. “Y/N, it’s fine. It’s cool. I mean, look at us—how could this not be enough?”

Enough. That word cut through me like a knife. It wasn’t enough. Not for me, not anymore.

“You can say that we’re nothing,” I muttered, not daring to look at her, “but you know the truth.”

She didn’t respond right away, and the silence felt suffocating. I wanted her to pull the car over, to stop and turn to me, to tell me that I wasn’t crazy. That this was something real. That I wasn’t just another girl in her long list of fleeting romances.

But she didn’t.

“I don’t wanna call it off,” I said, my voice barely a whisper, “but you don’t wanna call it love.”

The words hung between us, heavy and thick. I had said it. I had finally put into words what I had been so afraid to admit. I loved her. But she didn’t love me back. Not in the way that I needed. Not in the way that made me feel safe, wanted, whole.

Taylor shifted in her seat, her fingers tightening on the steering wheel. “It’s not like that, Y/N.”

“Then what is it like, Taylor?” I couldn’t help it. The frustration, the confusion, the hurt—it all came bubbling up to the surface, and I couldn’t keep it inside anymore. “Because I’m tired of feeling like I’m just… *there.* I just want to know where we stand.”

I could feel her eyes on me, but I didn’t turn to meet them. I couldn’t. If I looked at her, I’d break.

She sighed again, deeper this time. “You’re not just there. You’re the one I call when I need someone. You’re important to me.”

Important. But not *enough.*

“Important isn’t the same as love,” I said softly, and it felt like the final nail in the coffin. I had been fooling myself, hadn’t I? Waiting for her to say something she was never going to say.

She was quiet for a long time. The city passed by in a blur, neon lights reflecting off the windshield as we sped through downtown. I wondered what was going through her mind. Was she weighing her options? Trying to figure out how to let me down easy? Or maybe she was just tired of having to deal with this, with me.

“I think I’m gonna call it off,” I finally said, and even though it felt like a punch to the gut, I knew it was the right thing to do.

I couldn’t keep doing this—pretending like I was okay with being second best, with being the one she called when she was bored or lonely. I deserved more than that. I deserved to be loved the way I loved her.

Taylor didn’t say anything at first, and I wondered if she was even going to fight for me. For us. Part of me hoped she would. That she’d pull over, grab my hand, and tell me she was ready to stop running from whatever this was. But instead, she just kept driving.

“I don’t want to lose you,” she finally said, and her voice was so soft, so full of regret, that it almost made me second-guess everything.

But I had to be strong. I had to walk away, even if it felt like my heart was shattering into a million pieces.

“You already have,” I whispered, more to myself than to her.

The car came to a stop at a red light, and I could feel her eyes on me, but I couldn’t look at her. If I did, I’d fall apart. The tears were already threatening to spill, and I didn’t want her to see me break.

“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice thick with emotion.

I nodded, wiping at my eyes quickly. “Me too.”

The rest of the drive was quiet, the air between us heavy with all the things left unsaid. When we finally pulled up in front of my apartment, I hesitated. This was it. The end. I wanted her to say something—anything—that would make me stay. But she didn’t.

“Good luck, babe,” Taylor said softly, the words hitting harder than I’d expected.

I forced a smile, even though it felt like my heart was breaking. “Yeah. You too.”

And with that, I got out of the car, watching as she drove away, her taillights disappearing into the night. I stood there for what felt like forever, wondering if I’d made the right choice. But deep down, I knew I had. I couldn’t keep chasing after someone who wasn’t ready to be caught.

I turned and walked inside, closing the door behind me, feeling the weight of everything settle on my shoulders. It hurt, more than I thought it would, but there was a strange sense of relief too.

For the first time, I felt like I was in control of my own heart.

And for the first time, I felt free.

#Spotify #taylor swift #taylor swift x reader #taylor swift x you #imagine #gxg #wlw #fanfic #chappell roan #good luck babe

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marlsswrites · 4 months ago

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Summer camp AU, part 28!!

July 28th <3

Trend - @jegulus-microfic - words: 806

First part Previous part

"What the fuck are they doing?" Regulus snorted as he watched a group of teens whip their phones out, standing them up clumsily against a tree as they practiced dances to the most god awful songs Regulus has ever heard. "Is that supposed to be trendy?"

"I see you're feeling extra bitchy today." James ruffled his hair for the nth time that day, Regulus pretended to hate it, he huffed and rolled his eyes... yet neither of the boys seemed convinced. He loved it actually, a feeling of closeness that he would never admit to, but it was there nether the less and It made him love James even more.

love?

Fuck, when did that come into the picture?

He shook the thoughts out of his head, peering up at James and scowling, ignorant to the blush on his skin and the glint of something new, something lovely, in his eyes.

"I'm not being bitchy." He scoffed, playing a mocking tone on the last word as he raised both eyebrows at James - who, clearly not intimidated by Regulus' theatrics, laughed. His sweet, echoing, mesmerising laugh. Regulus did sometimes wonder whether that laugh was just a hoax, a trick, luring him in and preparing to break his heart and leave him in shambles on the floor, drowning in his own blood and tears because he did this to himself.

There's always a voice at the back of his head that repeats that whenever James so much as looks at him. He tries to ignore it, push it away, but he can't always do that. He wants to love, to trust, to live, is that so hard?

"Sure you aren't Reggie."

Rolling his eyes, he felt a twinge of pain in his ankle. He’d had some pain in his foot since he tripped on that walk yesterday, it wasn’t awful, but still not pleasant. Reaching down to rub it slightly, he felt a bruise forming on his lower leg as he spun his ankle around.

"Are you okay?" James' voice converted from his once teasing tone to a now caring, cherishing, loving one as he ducked his head to try and see Regulus' face. "What's up?"

"Think I hurt my ankle yesterday." He mumbled.

James grimaced. "Let me see." Regulus obliged, lifting his leg and draping it over James' lap so the other man could get a better look. Soft fingertips brushed around his ankle, softly pressing on the hurt part of his leg. Shivers and strung up pain ran up his leg, but all he could focus on was James. "Does that hurt?"

"A little."

Lifting his hand closer to his face, James checked the time and looked back at Regulus quickly. He was absentmindedly stroking his hand over Regulus' leg as he spoke, or maybe it was on purpose, either thought made Regulus feel things he really shouldn't be right now.

"Well." James coughed. "We need to leave in about two minutes to walk the kids back to the cabins." He spoke, a smile growing more prominent as he spoke. "Might have to carry you back." He winked.

Regulus felt a startled laugh leave his mouth, he shook his head fondly and attempted to bite down his smile as he scolded the older boy. Though it wasn't really scolding, it never was, Regulus just lectured him and James seemed to enjoy it for some sick reason that he's not going to think too much about. "For one, I can walk." He started. "And you would not be able to pick me up." Regulus snorted as he climbed up from the bench to prove that he could actually walk himself.

"Oh I bet I could." James drawled with a suspicious smile as he stood and followed Regulus away from their previous seat.

"I-" Before he could speak another word, James swiped him from his feet, hauling him over his shoulder with an embarrassing scream mixed with a laugh as James held onto his thighs. "James!"

The older just spun him around, laughing along with him with a sure sunlit smile on his face. "You were saying?"

"Put me down!" He hissed, still a smile couldn't wipe itself off Regulus' flushed and aching face from how much James made him feel, the smiles, the heartache, the fondness - every single bit of it. "James Potter I swear-"

James only trudged forward, patting Regulus' legs as he did so. "Nope, I'm carrying you back now."

Regulus wanted to retort, to yell at him and kick him - but then again he didn't. He only laughed and pressed his head into the lower part of James' cinnamon smelling t-shirt, god he even smelled like he could light up the world with one single laugh, or smile, or touch alone.

Love... Regulus thinks back to a mere few minutes ago.

This is it, isn't it?

Next part

#if you saw this yesterday no you didn’t!#regulus being a bitch because he’s grumpy #me core #also James picking him up like a fucking feather is so canon #marauders #jegulus #james potter #regulus black #james x regulus #sunseeker #jegulus microfic #jegulus fic #regulus x james #starchaser #writers on tumblr

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kurogxrix · 1 year ago

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150 kilometers

Police Officer!Ghost x reader

IN WHICH Officer Ghost catches you speeding way past the limit, but you to think of a way or two to avoid a ticket.

WC: 5.6k

Warnings: ANGST, smut, reader and Simon have history, oral (M), unprotected PinV, creampie, Simon’s unresolved feelings.

“My momma told me that the money outgrew you,”

The sound of Beyoncé’s ‘AMERICA HAS A PROBLEM’ was blasting through your car’s radio, barely audible with the way the passing wind was howling so aggressively. You had no one else to blame but yourself, the numbers 150 were in blast on your speedometer, yet you pretended to fall blind to it. It was all the more irresponsible and dangerous, yet who cared if you exceeded the 80km/h speed limit plastered on the signs each few metres if there was no one to witness the act but yourself.

Solitude greeted you upon the streets, but you preferred it that way anyway.

Nevertheless, one of your hands left the wheel to usher the sound up. Kendrick just had that effect on people. The breeze brushed through your freshly done hair, ruffling the style that you’d wasted an hour doing that same morning. Hair be damned, you had better places to be than on that deserted road. The engine of your pink convertible roared as you pressed further onto the pedal, a precious jewel that your father had gifted you. One that you’d gotten customised to your heart's extent.

The sudden voice of the ‘Maps’ app assistant made you jolt slightly in your seat, making your car swerve about a few centimetres to the left. You shook your head in disappointment, god knows that that’d have ended if you were on the main road. The openings of the bag resting on the passenger seat beside you ruffled with the passing wind, the sun hitting your skin in all the most comforting ways.

Nothing on this beautifully sunny day could have prepared you for the sudden flash of red and blue behind you, which could barely be seen considering the weather. You were 100% sure that this cop had popped out of thin air, because besides the lack of hiding spots besides the road, you knew that no car had followed you off the busy main road. Unless they’d broken the law and driven 70km/h above the speed limit alongside you. You could probably use that argument against said cop, yet again you feared he’d charge you extra just for getting smart with him.

To top the absolute mess that you had gotten yourself into, the cop just had to signal you. The sound of his blaring alarm made a wave of embarrassment wash down your spine, despite being the two lone people accepting the street.

“Fuck,” you cursed, bring the car to a stop once you’d bordered in to the side. You brushed down the vanity mirror before attempting to take your hair quickly, because if you were to get a ticket, then you might as well look amazing while doing it.

Simon on his side was far too busy trying to recollect himself before leaving the car, pretending to busy himself with the fetch of his talkie-walkie as he inhaled a whole yard worth of air into his lungs. The packet of cigarettes lodged in his breast pocket begged at him for a second of his time, but he also had duties calling out for him.

Out of all odds, he’d fallen on your car with you in it while he was on duty. He could have just called it a day and let you escape with the little victory of outrunning a cop, he’d be far better than he was then.

Nevertheless, the push of his SUV door felt even heavier than it did on normal days. He feels a tinge of unease for a man that harbours the muscles that he does, but he convinced himself that he just wasn’t in his element at that moment.

Unenthusiastic brown eyes fell upon the familiar licence plate, and suddenly he didn’t feel as brave as he did that same morning. His booted feet were bringing him forwards but his mind couldn’t help but reel further backwards. To the times where you’d both been mindless enough to mess around, unaware of all but the sweet scent of those rose candles that you’d lit before he’d come over. To the feeling of the sheets pooled around his bare hips in the aftermath of it all, and how distant the feel of your arms wrapped around his torso as you slept soundly now felt.

Simon shook the intrusive thoughts away, raising his head and retaking the stance of the brave officer that he was. After all, all he needed to do was give you your ticket, reprimand you and send you off to wherever you were heading to. What was all the fuss about? Even if he knew, he would let his brain bother him.

The heavy thud of his boots stopped beside your car door, the lack of protection from the windows and roof only scaring you now.

“Do you know why I stopped you today?” you heard the annoyed sigh come, before the familiar tune of a middle aged man’s voice hit your ears. You turned your head towards his side so fast that you believed you would have broken it. Nevertheless, here he stood before you in all of his glory; Simon Riley, the man who’d rocked your world a couple of moons ago.

You’d both agreed on the whole no strings attached thing, but you couldn’t stop the burning feeling in your chest once you realised on that fateful night that Simon wasn’t coming back. That the brit wouldn’t be here to ruffle your sheets and leave the bed intact while you hit the showers anymore. That the scent of roses would never feel as romantic as it did in his wake. It almost pained you to throw away that extra toothbrush that you’d gotten for him considering the amount of days a week he’d woken up at your house rather than his.

You shook the thoughts away before hitting him with that overly sickening sweet smile of yours that you offered to all the others, because it wasn’t Simon Riley that you were facing at the instant, it was Officer Ghost.

“I don’t know Officer, mind explaining to me?” The sultry tone of your question made Simon mentally double back. Be damned, your words even shocked you for a solid second before you could recover. Whatever the fuck you were doing flirting with your ex fling just to get out of a speed ticket? Only a madwoman would know.

But of course you would, you knew that Simon had once been weak to your charms, and if you need to use that weakness of him at anytime; it would for sure be now. The blond can’t help his eyes from drifting into your car as he processed your words, admiring the personal touches that you’d gotten done in the last few months.

He notes the fact that you’re barefoot because of the pair of heels that we’re resting under the passenger seat. You’d probably wear them later to whatever you were heading. Could it be to a boyfriend's house? To the club maybe where you’d meet and flirt with the young, hammered men that dared to lay their creeping eyes on you? Simon shook the stupid thoughts away, so what if you had a boyfriend? There was never something consistent going on between you two, and anyways your arrangement had ended long ago. You were free to date of fuck whichever guy you wanted to, he didn’t feel like he had a right to pry.

Yet why did he feel a tinge of jealousy each time the thought would pop up in his head, like a nightmare haunting him at every given moment. The thought picked at him, a nasty feeling stirring in his abdomen tinged with shame. He was the one who’s decided to cut off all strings in the first place, strings that you'd both agreed to stray away from. Yet all he felt was guilt for the durations of the few months you’ve spent apart after the ‘break up’.

“Was I driving too fast, officer? I didn’t even notice.” The flirtatious giggle broke Simon away from his daydream, and his eyes quickly adjusted to the new scene. You were no longer seated, belted in the comfort of your seat. Instead, your knees were planted firmly on your seat, digging into the leather. He noticed that you were standing far closer than you previously were in your seated position, your arms extended so you could rest your palms along the place where your windows would be.

Fuck, all he wanted to do was to take you right there. Even if this really was the last time you’d see each other in a while or at all, he just wanted to feel you for a last time after so long spent without your warmth. It was shameful really, this was the first time you’d seen each other after the events of your silent heartbreak, yet all he wished for was to have his way with you on the warm leather backseats of your car.

He couldn’t care less about the fact that you had a convertible, nobody even used this street. Nobody other than you of course, because you wouldn’t have been in this predicament if not.

“You okay?” Simon recognized the fake tune of concern in your question as your palm made contact with the tactical vest upon his chest, resting on the right side of his torso. His eyes were firm and threatening once they reached yours, but you didn’t back down. You'd been with him once, he didn’t scare you as he did others. His resolve completely melted away the instant that you flashed him those down eyes that you knew he couldn’t resist.

For a split second, Simon allowed his eyes to drift down onto you. If you were shamelessly and all the more not trying to hide the fact that you were flirting with him just to escape a fine, then he shouldn’t have to hide his wandering gaze anyway. Hardened brown iris rounded the corner, observing the way your dress stuck perfectly to your body. The way you were squeezing your arms to accentuate the low cut of that beautiful dress that you wore with pride.

He mentally cursed himself as he felt the material of his cargos tightening under his growing erection, and he had no one else to blame but you. The way you were smiling at him in that coy manner made him want to have you sobbing and choking around his cock, eyes full of tears and mascara leaking down your cheeks. If anything, he wanted to ruin you before you arrived at your destination, and a nasty side of him wished you were actually off to see a guy.

Suddenly, Simon jerked back once he felt the palm of your hand pawing at his erection. He’s taken by surprise at your boldness, not that you were shy with him before, it’s just been so long. He grunts in disapproval at the situation before moving further away from your car to try and stop himself from actually doing what he wishes to do to you. Because it’s not fair on you, you should be yelling at him to hurry up and fine you before leaving. Yell at him for stalling just to be in your presence when he made you feel like he didn’t want it before.

Yet, Simon watched intently as you sat up further onto your knees, a hand reaching out for him once more. He allows your hand to hover over the gear on his tactical vest before succumbing to the weak pull to your way. He could have always fought back if he wanted to, pulled further away instead of leading himself right where you wanted him to be. No matter how burly or tatted he was on the outside, he submitted to you unlike the man that he was.

“Cmon, how long has it been Si? Have you missed this? Just the two of us here, you don’t gotta hold it in.” The silence that Ghost held was broken once your hand dipped down to his pants once more, a hearty groan escaping his throat involuntary. Your hand went to the underside of his clothed crotch, caressing what you could, what he offered.

Yet it wasn’t enough to satiate you, and the little devil resting on your shoulder whispered ungodly things to you. Officer Ghost was just so tall, it was like the world was on your side once you’d noticed that his waistline just happened to reach above the window line of your car. It helped that the vehicle was rather low, but it failed to help with the sultry thoughts brewing in your head. The thought of sucking off Ghost out here, from your car, sent heat rushing down your core.

“Let me take care of you,” you muttered, your hand tightening around his hard, clothed cock. A shudder ran thick down Simon's back, and he didn’t need much contemplating to make up his mind. Rough gloved hands made contact with your jaw faster than you could comprehend, and next thing you knew, the pair of lips that you’d been reminiscing fell upon yours. He took pride in the way you had to tilt your head upwards to chase his lips.

The kiss was soft at first, almost apologetic for everything that he’d put you through. Like he was apologising for having you fall for him, and most likely for leaving when you thought things were advancing between the two of you. When his apology went through, his left hand slid further down to the back of your neck. Like a switch had been pressed inside of him, the kiss grew rougher as you felt Simon’s tongue poking at your bottom lip. You didn’t falter, fighting for dominance despite knowing that he’d always overpower you.

Your hands were far too busy trying to blindly understand the mechanism of his belt to worry about much else, before your fingers deciphered the mess of a buckle, pulling free the belt from his waist. Simon’s fingers grasped tightly at the tiny hairs littering your nape as he felt your hand slipping past his waistband, finally offering the pleasure he seeked as your warm palm made contact with his cock.

Hell, you’d both missed this so much. It didn’t matter if you were the one giving, you missed it just as much as he did. You couldn’t get very far before Simon pulled away from you, huge palm gripping at your wrist to pull your hand out of the confinement of his boxers. It disappointed you at first, pulling your hands back to yourself while watching him in puzzlement. He didn’t allow you to stay upset much longer as he pulled back just enough to pull his pants down far enough for everything that needs to be exposed, to be exposed.

You nearly drooled at the sight of his heavy cock flushing against his clothed torso, where you knew hid a chiselled body unlike the other men you’d ever been with. He’s thick, but nothing you can’t take, with a thin land of hair at the base that he keeps nicely trimmed. Pulsing veins ran across his cock in the most mouth watering way you could ever imagine, and you just couldn’t wait to take him in your mouth.

“You really think you’re ready? ‘Mean s’been a while now hasn’t it?” The smug smile that raised upon your lips was completely involuntary, though you enjoyed the fact that the cocky Simon that you loved was once more back. One hand gripped at the base of his cock as he dragged the heavy weight down, angling it towards your eager mouth. He’s a tease, always has been, and it didn’t matter that your torso was growing an indented line from the way you were bent over the side of your car, ass in the air and awaiting his cock patiently.

His other hand moved to grab at your jaw, a delicious cocktail between the gentleness of his touch and roughness of his palm made you squeeze your thighs together. Simon tilted your head up, squeezing your cheeks together as he enjoyed the way your lips pucker. It’s cute, he thinks. He’d like to ruin your pretty little face.

So he does just that, his feet moving on their own as he approaches you. He couldn’t care less that you’re transgressing the law by having public relations, he’s a cop yes, but inside he’s just a man. You wasted no time getting into action, pretty glossy lips wrapping softly around the tip of his cock. It’s flushed red and leaking precum that tastes funky on your tongue, but you’re so used to it by now that you’ve actually started to like it.

Your tongue swiped along his slit in the way you knew Simon relishes, and by the way he tilted his head back with a groan, you knew it was no different this time. Your mouth worked him inch by inch, lubricating his cock slowly by slowly with your saliva. No inch went untouched. What you couldn’t reach, you tried to force down your throat. And what you still couldn’t received a kitten lick here and there, a swipe of your tongue each time you thought it got neglected.

Simon's hand was now fully into your hair, a killer grip to it that had your scalp burning. Front and back, his hand guided your mouth back and forth on his dick at the speed he desired. You complied with no complaints. Taking him further down your throat, tongue running expertly down his veins as he shuddered once more. You got your hands in the business too, either gripping onto his shirt for stability or altering between the base of his cock and his balls.

He's restless, the ball of his boots digging through the dirt beneath his feet. You could tell he was close by the way his groans grew in number by the second, and the grip he had of your hair hurt better than bad. The handsome officer before you had to ground a hand down onto your car to stabilise himself as you sucked the living shit out of him, another flick to his slit and he was off seeing the stars on a holiday in the galaxy.

For a second, there was static, and then there was a voice. It rebounded into the distance, alongside the sloppy sounds of you sucking Simon’s cock like it was the last thing you were bound to do on earth. “-ost, you copy?” Again, the voice came back and Ghost could make out the harsh sound of his coworkers voice.

He groaned in disgust, nothing like hearing the voice of the guy you work with while getting the sloppiest head by some chick you secretly fancy. A minute passed by before Ghost aggressively threw his hand at the talkie-walkie, unlatching it from the velcro with a loud crack. Simon swore to the god above that he nearly came as he looked down to the sight of your doe eyes looking at him expectedly through your mascara coated eyelashes.

His hands tightened impossibly further in your hair as he motioned for you to continue sucking, which you did.

“Ghost here, copy.” a curt and unbothered reply, all in the Ghost mannerism.

His hand let go of your hair, instead claiming a spot upon your jaw. A big thumb caressed at your cheek, making the corners of your lips twist into a smile with your mouth full. You could feel him start to rock in your mouth slightly, trying to restrain himself from fucking your mouth roughly until your jaw stayed clamped shut.

“We need you on lane 3, s’that possible?” static again, the voice came out muffled. He thought for a solid second, a moan escaping his throat thankfully before he could press on the button.

“Give me a minute and I'm all yours,” his eyes shifted to yours throughout the sentence, making your cunt clench over nothing as you soaked your panties pathetically. Besides you, the talkie-walkie did a dramatic jump to the leather seat as Simon threw it. It rebounded and hit the floor instead, but nothing he’d care much about.

You brought a hand up to cup the base of Simon’s cock in your hand as your mouth took a short break to ease your paining jaw, but before you could go back to work, he was completely pulled out of the warm comfort of your mouth. A trail of saliva connected you both in an unholy mix and he pulled away, his fingers clenching around your jaw. Your eyes never met his in the exchange, too busy relishing in the way his hard length looked and glistened coated in your saliva. Fuck, you really had a problem, you could’ve sworn you’d go crazy if Simon didn’t fuck you right then.

“Get in the back, we don’t have much time.” he grumbled like you were the one asking for too much. If anything, the way his hard cock twitched at the disappearance of your touch made you think quite the opposite. Quickly hopping in the back and abandoning your place in the front seat, you watched as Simon made his way to the back door from outside.

He opened the door, eager to have you and ready for all until-

“Woaaaaah, nobody’s getting in with their nasty ass shoes you hear me? Get them off, cmon” you pushed at his chest before he could even open the door, making Simon stop and stare at you dumbfounded. When he made no move to untie his boots and moved to open the door once more, you pushed harder against his chest, an eyebrow up to show that you weren’t fucking around.

A defeated sigh left him as he bent down, undoing the double knots that he’d done that same morning. You smiled contentedly in success, moving away for him to have a seat so he’d be able to carefully slide his shoes off. You didn’t miss the grumbling from the grouchy middle aged man as he sat upon your seats, large hands working together to throw his boots off cleanly somewhere near.

You took the time being to ready yourself, slipping a finger on each side of the waistband of your panties before pulling down. The cute, patterned garment pooled by your ankles before you could pry them off with your finger, tossing the pair safely in the cup holder by the door so you wouldn’t lose it. Or rather so it wouldn’t get stolen, god knows how many pairs you’d lost ever since your altercation with a certain bulky brit.

You faced away from Simon, only aware of his approach once his shadow loomed over you. His hands gripped your hips in desperation, by surprise as it had you silently gasping.

“Gotta prep you?” he muttered before pulling you flushed against him. You could feel the seam of his jeans by your lower thighs, meaning that he’d had the time to pull them further down, but high enough to pull back up in case anyone was to cross you both. A breathy whine left your throat as you felt him force a hand between the both of your bodies, hand grasping at the base of his cock to reposition himself.

You pushed yourself impossibly back into his chest, the previous question had dissipated into the air as you felt your ability to talk had been ripped from you. He wasted no time manhandling you like he wished, your left hand grabbing onto the empty space of the open window as he pushed the tip of his hard cock through the entrance of your cunt.

He assumed you didn’t need any prepping by the way you soaked his cock the second he made contact, but who was he to complain? Steadying himself, his left hand came to accompany yours across the window place, back flushed with his clothes torso, his gear digging into your flesh through the thin fabric of your dress.

The mewl that escaped you as he repositioned himself was embarrassingly needy but you needed him now, no time to wait. Simon got the memo if anything, earning you some short thrusts that made him sink further and further into your heat with every push. Feeling weak already, your hand trembled under your own weight.

He didn’t seem to mind it one bit, using his free hand to lace under you as he pushed against your chest, pulling you flushed against him once more. His strength was unmatched, he could keep himself up with only his knees for who knows how long, and you suspected that he’d worked in something more complex than the police squad for a while before switching.

It didn’t matter anyways, what did was the feeling of Simon’s hard cock now buried to the hilt inside of you. His flushed tip kissed your cervix, a delicious pain that had tears springing to the corners of your eyes. If Simon had been less hurried he’d probably kiss them away, but Ghost felt the need to be selfish today.

Slowly, the rhythm of his thrusts began picking up the pace as you felt the car rocking softly with the heavy weight of the muscular officer behind you. A hand scurrying down between your bodies, inching your dress further up your thighs so he could access whatever he wanted to, whenever he felt like it.

“F-fuck Si, just like that,” you whined, urging him to pick up the pace. His hipbone slammed devilishly onto your ass and the noise reverberated around the empty space surrounding you both. Simon was sure that anyone around a couple of kilometres could hear you moaning like it was your last day on earth, but he just couldn’t get himself to do anything about it. The deserted area left him with some peace of mind.

A sudden harsh thrust had you nearly doubling over, your hand tightening around the door as you shut your eyes closed. He pushed himself closer to your back, his head now stuffed in the crook of your neck as you drowned in the breathy groans that he was letting out. Your teeth found your bottom lip in a painful game of tug and war after Simon dropped a hand between your legs to tease at your clit. Circular motions had your vision clouding with pleasure, legs jelly under your own and Simon's weight.

“Let go darlin’, I can tell you’re tryna hold back.” He accentuated with a sharp thrust, and this time you really couldn’t hold your own body up anymore. The backseat was cramped to the point where Simon's bulky ass frame nearly caused the both of you to be squeezed off, but the proximity was enjoyable after so much time spent apart.

You felt a familiar coil knotting in your lower belly, and all it took was a couple more precise strokes from his veiny cock and a nibble to the sensitive underside of your neck for you to let go, white clouding your vision as you clenched tightly around him. The noise that the orgasm pulled out of you was so intense that you actually believed this time that people around a mile in range could’ve actually heard the echo.

One of your hands darted away from the door to latch onto Simon's arm that was still busy keeping you upright, contorting the limb in some strange way despite the cramped setting. Your legs gave out with the trembling, blissful orgasm still working wonders on your recovering state. Simon didn’t waste any time working on his own now that he’d successfully satiated you.

He allowed your body you give down, unwrapping his arm from under your torso so that your upper body rests flush against the leather seat. He pulled both hands back your hips to lift your ass up, meeting his own hips as the aggressive clash of flesh made a lustful sound that fed his cravings. His right hand dipped back down to rest above your head, but it wasn’t long before he was pushing you further into the seat.

Simon was never really a rough lover, but at that moment something had snapped deep inside of him. He fucked you like he was afraid of never getting the chance to ever do it again. He fucked you like he believed he should’ve on that last day before he left for good. His knees were digging into leather seat so harshly that you were sure it was going to leave an indent for a day and a half,

You sobbed at the overstimulating feeling of his cock repeatedly hitting the far spot inside your spent cunt over and over again, chasing the high that you’d just gotten over recently. Your tears fell upon the expensive leather of the sofa as your cries were muffled by his unrelenting pushing hand.

You could tell he was close again when his hands left you to gently grasp at your hair, moving them to one side of your neck as he stabilised his weight by placing both hands besides your head. You remembered how handsy and ‘fidgety’ he got in some way when he was close to finishing. Then there were the few last hard thrusts that had you gripping onto the edge of the sofa for dear life, pumping your cunt full of his seed with an actual guttural moan that had you clenching all over again.

You manoeuvred your body to shake your arms away from the position, biting onto your thumb to stop yourself from crying out loud with the way his short little thrusts were about to send you over the edge again. You didn’t think you could handle cuming once more without making an absolute mess of your car, further less if it was Ghost that made you finish.

Even after his movements stabilised, you could still feel the warm sensation of his spent seeping out of you in excess, pussy full and satiated for as long as it needed to be. That was new, the whole fucking without a condom thing, let alone finishing inside of you. You couldn’t say you disliked the feeling. The sensation of his raw, meaty cock inside of you was something that you could sure as hell get used to.

It felt like hours before Simon pulled out, arousal dribbling out of your tight cunt and down into your seat. You’d deal with the stains later, if anything you’d get the whole seat redone with that hard earned money that you’d made yourself while you were learning to get over the man that sat right beside you then.

It was crazy to think of how much time it had taken you to actually get over Simon leaving, abandoning you after things had seemed to actually go somewhere between the two of you. You should’ve been ashamed of yourself for giving in without even trying to fight, maybe now he thought of you as some easy thing that he could always come back to once or twice a month when he felt desperate. You knew you should have more self respect but yet a part of you can’t seem to blame Simon for the way things had gone down between you two.

Obviously you shouldn’t have gotten ahead of yourself and thought he’d reciprocate those feelings that you’d so unfortunately caught for him along the terms of your ‘no strings attached’ agreement. It wasn’t really his fault for following the terms that you’d both agreed to. Yet it hurt for a while to think that you’d fallen so hard for a man that you believed didn’t even see you further than for sex.

You heard the sound of his fly before you could even see him buckling his belt back on. The part of you who’d always thought you’d meant a little more to him was desperately hurting, but nothing you’d allow Simon to see. After all, you'd initiated what happened on that day, to get out of a ticket or not, you had no one else to blame for the humiliation that you brought upon yourself.

“Guess that’s settled then.” the blond muttered, typical awkwardness lacing his words. Your head turned at an embarrassingly fast pace when he’d even gotten to utter the first words.

“What?” Your befuddled state had Simon deadpanning, before referring to the speed ticket like it was the most obvious thing in the world. You itched the back of your neck nervously as your gaze fell to your dress, still hiked disgracefully upon your hips. Your hands fell in a quick mess to gather yourself and redress, mentally using the excuse that it was just in case somebody was to fall upon you both.

Even if you couldn’t hide to yourself the fact that Simon’s blatant gaze made you feel a certain way that you knew you shouldn’t.

“Duty calls, guess i gotta go,” with your eyes burning holes at your thighs you failed to notice the longing that clouded Simon’s iris at the administration. The silent apology for everything that he didn’t and couldn’t have given you in the past. An indescribable feeling of guilt shook his chest and he just couldn’t stand to be in the same vehicle that he’d just ruined you in for any longer.

Despite the shameful fact that he’d kinda wished you’d beg for his presence a little longer, your silence pushed him to act. A fight or flight kind of situation, like he was running from his own feelings instead. Perhaps you’d never know how Simon truly felt about you, but you did know that it took him about a minute to fully leave the scene, the sound of his heavy motor dragging about a minute before disappearing from your sight. Simon left his aching heart in the backseat beside you.

Riding 150km/h, you decided that maybe heading home would feel better than whatever destination was still etched on your map.

KEEP YOUR MW3 SPOILERS TO YOURSELF‼️ im buying the game next week.

#simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley smut #ghost smut #simon riley x reader smut #ghost mw2 #cod mw2 #mw2 x reader #simon riley angst

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wontshutup · 6 months ago

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I had this idea of a Reader x Nanami + Ex!Gojo where the reader was a single mother of Gojo's child.....just stay with me on this ok?

Nanami is grossery shopping, looking for a good sourdough in the bakery section and a small girl asks him to help her reach a cookie. White silky hair and bright blue eyes piercing into his, taking him aback with the resemblance to a certain sorcerer.

He kneels down to be at the baby girl's height"Of course little one, but where is your mother?"

As if he had been heard, your voice pierces through the ambience of the store, making his head shut up as you where calling for a name only assumed to be the girl's.

"Aiko! There you are!" The little girl runs into your arms giggling "I wanted a cookie, the nice man was going to get me one" she said as she pointed back at you.

Nanami remains frozen in place, he couldn't believe his eyes as he had you right in front of him. The two of you had been together in high school, he had the strongest crush on you when you studied in jujutsu high, however you couldn't seem to tear your eyes at the sight of Gojo Satoru, lighting up at the mention of his name as if he was your whole world, how he wished he was the reason of such joy in you and not him, giving him one more reason to hate the white-haired sorcerer.

Once graduation came around for Gojo you had reached out to confess your feelings for him, Nanami didn't really knew when or how but one day after school you were being picked by a convertible drove by none other than Gojo Satoru, he watched as he greeted you with a soft kiss on the lips and saw how you softly smiled through the gesture, he felt a pang in his chest, as if he had been shot through the heart being the instant death of a man as he buried his feelings for you along with his heart, becoming colder with you until the last day of school, looking at your hand interlaced with Gojo's as you shared a celebratory kiss. That was the last time you saw eachother.

The news of you and Gojo not being together anymore didn't go unnoticed by him, as in a meeting Mei brought it up casually as Gojo Satoru brushed away any inquiry or comment on it, actually making him struggle not to tell the man how much of an idiot he was for not holding on to you, also feeling a small spark of joy in his mind, he couldn't help but fantasize of you finally seeing through the daze he had you in, getting fed up by the strongest's antics and deciding to dump him. He had to fight against the itch to ask about you, he held himself back not wanting to inquire more, being well aware that even as exasperating as he was, Gojo Satoru was actually making it all for your privacy.

He didn't dare ask, nor look for you, he was too deep into his work now as a jujutsu sorcerer to give into a life of romance now, maybe it was better this way.

And there you were, years later, holding in your arms the carbon copy of Gojo Satoru as you gave him a wide eyed look, softening your features at the sight of a familiar face.

"Nanami! Oh my ! It's been so long!" You made your way towards him, your free arm extending up to embrace him as your baby girl looked at the both of you with curiosity.

He hugged you back, wanting to engulf you into himself, yet the presence of the little one made him pull back into reality.

"It truly has Y/N" he said looking at the girl "and who might this be?" He said nearing his face towards her, earning a shy smile from you "this is Aiko, she's mine" you gave him a sympathetic smile.

The girl analyzed your interaction with analytical eyes "Mommy who is he?" She never tore her eyes off Nanami.

"Oh, this is Nanami Kento, we used to go to High-school together" you said as he bowed his head .

"With daddy too??" She asked with a bright tone, making him feel a tight knot in his chest, so she is Satoru's, then why in the world would he leave?! That Self-obsessed prick, he felt anger starting to rise within him at the thought of the man leaving you, how dare he keep you and his child hidden?? "Yeah, with daddy too" you gave Nanami a sheepish smile, feeling a hint of shame at his wide eyed expression.

Soon enough Aiko had re-started with the insistence to get a cookie, bringing the both of you back to the moment.

"OK Aiko, just give me a second" you gave Nanami a sympathetic smile as he too tried his best to hide the turmoil of feelings he had within "It was a pleasure seeing you again Kento, we should go get a coffee sometime. Here" you handed him your phone to type his contact in, he did with a serious expression as he focuses on not shaking, he gave it back to you. "See you then" you gave him one last smile and walked away, Aiko waving frantically at him, her tiny hand saying "bye-bye" at the stunned blonde.

Aaaaand that's part one, hahaha I do have questions to answer so just wait for it please

Part 2

Thanks for reading.

#nanami x reader #nanami kento #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x reader #dad gojo #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk gojo #jjk nanami #kento nanami #satoru gojo #just bear with me ok?

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paluding · 1 year ago

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Updating... The Tattooer (ver. 3.4)!

Finally! Took me a while, huh. This is the updated version of the Tattooer project. It skips some steps, making the workflow much, much faster! Huge thanks to @applewatersugar for his suggestion on how to bake textures while preserving the transparency. This is kind of a repost of the original Tattooer post, but it actually has some new stuff and a few changes here and there, so please take a look if you want to learn how to use this new version.

This is a series of Blender template files already set up to quickly bake textures from The Sims 4 to The Sims 2. The different Blender files will allow you to: -Bake body textures from TS4 to TS2 (Female) -Bake body textures from TS4 to TS2 (Male) -Bake body textures from TS4 (Female) to TS2 (Male) -Bake body textures from TS2 (Female) to TS2 (Male) [Bonus!] -New! Bake face textures from TS4 to TS2 (Unisex) [Bonus!] -Bake head textures from TS4 to TS2 (Face + Scalp) (Unisex) [Still experimental] Check the file names to see which one is which, and the resolution of the baked texture it will give. Everything you see in the render above was 100% converted using those Blender files.

Download here! SFS / GD

Update: Version 3.4.1 (27/08/2023) Fixed some issues on the shoulders for the AF-body-4t2-1024 and AF-body-4t2-2048 templates. Now the top straps on most converted underwear/swimwear should look right.

Update: Same version (13/12/2023) As requested, added a new spanish version of the included pdf guide!

These templates were made mainly to bake and convert tattoos, but there’s more you can do with them if you get creative. I have to say, these are NOT perfect. Results may vary depending on what you are trying to convert, so! With that in mind, this is all the stuff you will be able to convert almost seamlessly from TS4 to TS2: -Tattoos. -Other body details such as body hair, scars, freckles, supernatural/occult details… -Body painted underwear and swimwear, as well as some other clothing that’s mostly painted on the body. -Socks, stockings and maybe leggings. -Even skintones! In some areas they will look weird, so I recommend editing and blending them with other existing TS2 skins. -Makeup, eyebrows and beards. In the old version this was just a proof of concept, but now I’ve added a new Face file template which gives some pretty decent results! -Hair scalps. Very useful when converting some hairs! Although keep in mind part of that texture might also need to be baked on the face mesh, you know, that hairline makeup stuff.

Got your attention? Nice! Editing some of the textures from TS4 to match the UV mapping in TS2 using a 2D editing program can be incredibly hard. That’s where texture baking in Blender comes to the rescue!

You will need to download Blender, at least version 3.4, but you could always use a newer version. It is only incompatible with versions older than 3.4. -You can download Blender for free here. -You will also need Sims 4 Studio to extract the original Sims 4 CC textures you want. In the first version of these Blender files, there was a necessary step using Photoshop, but that’s no longer needed. However, there’s still a tiny extra step which requires resizing the newly baked texture on some of the high resolution templates, so you might need a 2D editing program like Photoshop. More on that later.

So, before we begin, let’s clear out some questions you might have. What the heck is this texture baking thing and what does it do? Well, let’s imagine you have a video projector and point an image into a blank wall. Then you pick up some brushes and start painting and copying that projected image in that wall. Texture baking is kinda like that when it comes to 3D models. You align two models and match them as closely as you can in shape and form, and once you adjust some parameters and values, Blender does the rest for you: it will give you a new texture for a new model with a different UV map. These files I’m sharing have everything already set up, so it’s a matter of plopping in that Sims 4 texture and you will get that new texture for TS2 in just a few clicks.

This tutorial assumes you know literally nothing about how to use Blender, so if you feel uncomfortable with it, worry no more! This will guide you with pictures showing where you need to click and explaining what is happening. For Sims 4 Studio and Photoshop the process might be a bit less detailed, but still this should be pretty beginner friendly. For this tutorial, I will use some tattoos as an example (properly credited at the end of the post). Alright, enough with the rambling. Let’s get started!

·EXTRACTING TEXTURES IN SIMS 4 STUDIO: First things first, you will need to extract as pngs all the textures you want to convert from TS4 using Sims 4 Studio. It should be pretty straightforward. Just open the packages and export the Diffuse textures. Keep them organized in a folder for easy access.

·BAKING THE TEXTURES IN BLENDER: PRELIMINARY STEP 1: CONFIGURING BLENDER’S GRAPHICS SETTINGS: Open your preferred Blender file depending on what you’re going to bake and the desired resolution (in this example I’m going to use the AF-body-4t2-1024 file). Before we start messing around in Blender, there’s one thing you should set up. It is a onetime step, and once it’s done, you won’t need to do it again. So, does your computer have a dedicated graphics card? If you don’t know or you’re not sure, just skip to the next step. Configuring Blender so it uses your graphics card instead of your CPU will make the baking render much faster, so it is recommended you set it up correctly. If your computer has a dedicated graphics card, click File (1) > Preferences (2) > and on the window that pops up click System (3) > and select CUDA and make sure your graphics card is there and tick it (4). I have an Nvidia Graphics card but your case may vary. Once you’re done, click on the tiny button on the bottom left corner and Save Preferences (5).

PRELIMINARY STEP 2: CHOOSING THE RENDERING DEVICE: Click on the tiny camera button on the right, called Render Properties (1), and on Device (2) select GPU Compute if it’s not already selected. If you’re not sure if you have a graphics card or not, just select CPU. Then select the Material Properties tab (3) and Save your changes, either by pressing Ctrl + S, or clicking File (4) > Save (5). You might need to do this second step with the other Blender files, but once you have it done and saved, you won’t need to do this again. Okay, time to get into the good stuff!

·STEP 1: LOADING YOUR TS4 BASE TEXTURE: In the Material Properties tab, click the folder icon that says Open (1) and on the window that pops up, navigate through your folders and select your first texture. To navigate easily, the 3 buttons on the top right (2) are for the display mode. They will show your files in list mode, vertical and horizontal, and the one on the right will display the file thumbnails, pretty useful if you want to easily preview your textures here. The icons on the left side (3) will let you go one folder back and forward, go to the parent directory, and refresh the folder in case you just dropped something new in there. Double click on the image you need and that will load the texture into the Sims 4 body model, named “ts4 body”.

·STEP 2: SETTING UP YOUR SELECTION AND BAKING THE TEXTURE: On the top right of the screen, you will see the names of the 2 models in the scene. Hold the Ctrl key in your keyboard and left click on the “ts2 body” model (1). If you did it correctly, you should see “ts2 body” in a yellowish orange color, and right down below, “ts4 body” should look more like a red orange. If not, try again by clicking first on ts4 body, and then while holding Ctrl click again on ts2 body. Then switch to the Render Properties tab by clicking the tiny camera icon (2) and click Bake (3). Depending on your screen resolution, you might need to scroll down a bit with your mouse to see the Bake button. Wait a few seconds for it to finish. You will see the progress percentage down on the bottom of your screen. Don’t panic if you notice your computer fans start ramping up, that’s completely normal! As I said in the beginning, using your GPU will bake the textures much faster than the CPU.

·STEP 3: SAVING YOUR NEW TS2 TEXTURE: Once it’s finished, switch to the UV Editing Mode by clicking “UV Editing” on the top of your screen. And there it is: your new texture! You might have to scroll up your mouse wheel a bit to zoom in and see it in all its glory on the left side of the screen. We’re still not done yet though. You need to save it to yet another new folder (always try to keep your stuff organized!).

You can save it by pressing Shift + Alt + S, or clicking on Image* (1) and then Save As… (2). That will pop a window where you’ll need to navigate again and save it somewhere. Give it a proper name (3) and hit Enter to save it… well, Enter doesn’t always work for me for some reason, so if that happens just click Save As Image (4). And that’s it! You’ve successfully converted your baked texture. Congrats!

·STEP 4: GOING BACK TO STEP 1: Alright! If you’re done with your textures, you can close Blender without saving and call it a day. But let’s say you want to keep baking other swatches. In order to go back to step 1 and start the process once again, click Layout (1), go back to the Material Properties tab (2), select “ts4 body” (3) and click on the folder icon (4) to open and load your next swatch.

Then it’s just a matter of repeating the process from step 2. When you’re ready to move on, close Blender without saving. If you see a small check telling you it will save some images, make sure you uncheck it, so you will be able to use it again in the future from the starting point with no issues. I don’t think it really matters if you accidentally save your progress in these files, but I like to keep it clean and fresh so I can do the process where I left it from the beginning next time I open it. And in case you mess up and save somewhere, you can always just delete the .blend file and download the template files again.

In case you’d like a video tutorial on how to use these files, the amazing @platinumaspiration recorded this fantastic video showcasing the process! You can watch it here.

One final note: some of the baking .blend files save the textures with a resolution of 2048x2048 pixels, as clearly stated at the end of their file name. That’s way too overkill, because TS2 only properly supports up to 1024x1024 for most of its textures and you should always resize your final product to that max resolution (or lower if needed). I just made those 2048 versions because there might be some really tiny and slim details on some tattoos that might look a little too blurry when baked into a 1024 resolution texture, so for those cases use that if you want and then resize them using your 2D editing software of choice. In Photoshop, in the Resample mode of the Image Size menu, there are a few options to choose. For the fine details, I like the Nearest Neighbor (hard edges) option, which, even if it looks a bit pixelated, it still preserves most of the texture and quality.

For anything else, I would just directly bake them using the 1024 versions in Blender (512 for the face and scalp).

And for the folks who feel comfortable playing around in Blender, this is just the beginning! Texture baking opens a LOT of possibilities, so feel free to move stuff around and edit the models to your liking! If you notice the baked textures look warped or stretched somewhere, or don’t like where some textures are placed in the S2 body, poke around that area moving stuff and then give it another try. The main objective of the baking process is keeping both overlapping models as close in shape as possible. You may also edit and save new copies of the templates, or make new ones from scratch using mine as a reference (keep a close look on those Baking settings and values, I think they work pretty well) and share them if you want to. Go ham, do whatever you want with them! I still have plans on making templates to convert body textures from Sims 3 to Sims 2, but for now it’s not on my priorities, so we’ll see when that happens.

Whew! Hope none of this was too confusing. Need help or have any issues with these? Please ask/message me here and I’ll be glad to help when I’m able to!

Credits for the CC used in the render demonstration: -Skin by Sims3Melancholic. -Eyes by Northern Siberia Winds. -Eyebrows by PeachyFaerie. -Tattoos by xtc. -Top by SerenityCC. And the Tattoo I used for the tutorial can be found here, by ValhallanSim.

Last but not least, a huge thanks to all the people who somehow contributed to make this project and update possible, either by doing initial testing, finding issues to fix, or teaching me new Blender tricks to make the workflow way faster and easier. So thanks again to @elvisgrace @moyokeansimblr and @applewatersugar on Tumblr! <3

And thank you for reading! Hope you have fun playing with this (not so) new toy hehe.

#tattooer project #tattooer update #ts2 tutorial #ts2 resources #ts2 blender #ts2 overlays #ts2 texture baking #4t2 conversion tutorial #this took me so LONG to update #im really sorry for the delay :(

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lettersfromaphrodite · 1 year ago

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[15.37]

― pairing : Wooyoung x fem! reader + San x fem! reader ― content warnings : smut, grease! au - therefore it's the 50's, established relationship, public sex, exhibitionism, oral sex (m receiving), unprotected sex, mention of threesome ― word count : 2.477

― notes : this fic looks familiar?it is! I’m reposting ALL my works on this brand new blog and therefore please, bear with me! as always, askbox is always open and feedbacks are always welcome 💌

With a deep sigh, you held your head with both hands, trying not to breathe a frustrated groan over your physics homework; you loved studying at the library, it was relaxing and less distracting than studying at home – since you managed to get distracted with literally anything, but sometimes, it was too hard to fight back the urge to swear at your poor inanimate book.

«Stupid exams.» you whispered, and you heard San chuckle from the seat on your left; unlike you, the boy didn’t have any trouble with said subject, and often helped you out. You were glad about the fact that your boyfriend had a bestfriend so clever, which could actually help you not to fail this class. Rubbing your temples, you closed your eyes and you heard the seat on your right slightly move, before a whiff of cologne made you instinctively smile.

«Hi, Wooyoung.» you told your boyfriend, and he leaned in to kiss your shoulder, mumbling a quiet «Hi, doll.»

Wooyoung, unlike you, was not much interested in school. He would often skip classes, ask you for help when his exams got too close, but recently, he started to hang out with you at the library.

Sometimes it would be twenty minutes, sometimes a couple of hours, or some other times he’d patiently wait for you to finish studying so that he could drive you back home with his bright red convertible car so that you didn’t have to walk back home by yourself.

Today was just the same, Wooyoung had his head leaning on your shoulder while his hand was playing with the hem of your skirt right above your knee, his touches providing to be distracting enough that sometimes, you had to start reading the paragraph all over again.

«I might know where to find the answer to that formula, doll.» Wooyoung lusciously whispered against your ear while his fingertips were caressing your bare inner thigh under the fabric of the skirt; your breath hitched and you had to repress the urge to widen your legs just to feel his touch inching upwards. «It’s in the biology section.» he mumbled with a tender bite on your earlobe, and your head snapped towards his, your noses brushing together. You knew what he was suggesting, and the mere thought made you blush; your eyes quickly looked around, there were not too many people in the library, but still, it was dangerous, and you could have been caught quite easily.

«Come on,» Wooyoung smirked, his eyes fixed on your lips, «no one ever goes back there.» he was right, biology section was the last one and the most distant from where you were seated, and almost no one ever went back there. «San could look out for us.» Wooyoung suggested, tilting his head to look at his friend.

«And why would I?» San answered with a flat tone, eyes unwavering from his book.

«For fifty bucks?» Wooyoung shrugged, knowing how to tease his long-time friend.

«I’m in.» San said, closing his books and standing up, disappearing between the bookshelves.

«How about you, doll?» Wooyoung asked, a sincere questioning expression on his face; you stood up with a sigh, muttering a quiet «As if I would say no.» and you followed San.

Wooyoung was quick to push you against the bookshelf as he hungrily kissed you, his hands on your hips and yours on his black leather jacket in order to pull him closer to you. Wooyoung left infinite trails of kisses on your neck – as far as the collar of your shirt allowed him to, and while your eyes were half closed, you could see San’s wide back leaning against the bookshelf few steps from you, pretending to read while he was just studying the situation around you. Wooyoung’s hands travelled on your leg, the material of your skirt collecting around his wrist as he was now lifting your naked thigh around his hip while pressing his boner flush against your core.

«I’ve been like this all afternoon,» he whispered, «I wanted to take you right on that table.» your breath hitched, and it took you a lot of effort not to whimper at his sudden confession. You were so aroused that you wanted to answer that you wouldn’t have mind it, but you didn’t trust your voice and rather opted to keep quiet.

He quickly pushed your panties to the side, smearing your wetness with his index finger; the feeling of Wooyoung smirking against you skin made your head tilt back in order to give him more access to the skin of your neck, knowing that if you weren’t in that situation, he would have made his usual cocky comment about how wet you were already.

Out of the corner of your eyes, San shifted his position, but you were too busy focusing on Wooyoung fingers moving inside you to wonder why he seemed so tense. Wooyoung was quick to cover your mouth with his hand, as a too loud whimper was about to escape your lips as his fingers brushed the sweet spot inside you while scissoring, and he harshly bit the skin on your neck in warning. Your boyfriend eventually stopped as the squelching sound became too loud for his likings – San had also coughed once in warning, and started to work on his belt with extremely slow movements, in order to not make any noise in the clerical silence of the library.

«You need to be quiet now, doll.» he said, his jeans and his boxers now pooling around his knees as he effortlessly picked you up, your skirt pooling around his forearms. «Or you won’t like the punishment» With a nod, you secured your hold by wrapping your arms around his shoulders, and your ankles locked behind his waist.

You bit your lip as his length brushed against your clothed core, pressing against the damp fabric of your panties, and while balancing yourself on his shoulders with one arm, you impatiently reached down, lifting your skirt even more so that you could pull your panties to the side in a silent, needy ask to hurry up.

«So eager,» Wooyoung mumbled, as he let you take control and guide his length inside you. He bottomed out with a single thrust; the hand which was previously on his shoulder now flew on your lips in order to muffle your surprised whimper, trusting Wooyoung on keeping you up against the wooden bookshelf, whose shelves were now pressing against different points of your back. You momentarily closed your eyes, feeling your boyfriend’s thick length filling you up so perfectly, and eventually, he started to move with careful movements, the fact that you weren’t holding yourself up anymore made it seem as he could sink even deeper.

Wooyoung thrusts were slow and deep – in order to not give away what you were doing, since you were too wet and other people would have easily heard if he decided to speed up his pace. Wooyoung hands – one under your thigh and the other on your hips, were harshly gripping on your skin, and you were sure you would have marks and nail scratches but you loved every second of this brand new experience. Wooyoung’s breath hitched every time you’d consciously clench around him just to tease him even more and feel him even deeper as he moved inside of you.

Glancing at Wooyoung, you knew that now that you took in his appearance, there were not possibilities for you to last long anymore: he had his head thrown back and his cheeks were flushed red, there was a small vein popping on his neck, his jaw was tightly clenched and he would occasionally bite his lip in order not to moan – your boyfriend was very vocal in bed and you loved it.

You pulled on his jacket, and he looked at you with a blissed out expression and hooded eyes blown with lust; balancing yourself once again with your arms around his shoulders, capturing his lips in a heated kiss, as you both chased your orgasm on his deep and slow pace. Your lips remained millimetres apart, sharing the same quiet whimpers, when the sensation of the knot in your stomach suddenly exploded due to a harsher thrust, and your orgasm washed over you unexpectedly, Wooyoung’s hand leaving your thigh to cover your mouth with wide eyes and San quickly coughing twice to muffle your whimper. Your muscles spasmed and you held Wooyoung impossibly close to your body; he eventually came few thrusts later due the fact that you kept clenching impossibly tight around him.

Wooyoung carefully slid out of you, kissing you affectionately as you both tried to recover from this experience, both knowing that probably you would have done it again rather soon. You reached out to style back a strand of hair which fell in front of Wooyoung’s face while he was fastening his leather belt, and he looked at you with a wide smile, mouthing a «Thank you, love.»

«Might as well invite me, next time, kinky fuckers.» San whispered, as he was now facing you while placing the book he had been holding for the entire time in its original place on the shelf.

You and Wooyoung shared a knowing look, since you both often thought about asking San to have sex with you, since that one night where you were so drunk that you confessed your own boyfriend that you would have loved to have sex with San.

As Wooyoung told you what happened once you sobered up, you briefly thought that he was going to leave you, or you were going to fight, but he simply asked you if you wanted to try a threesome. «I mean, San is pretty hot, I don’t blame you.» Wooyoung had said back then, «And plus, I trust him.»

San was still watching the two of you having a silent conversation, the boner in his tight jeans too evident to walk back in the study section right away. You nodded at Wooyoung, which simply smiled at you and shortly kissed your lips by cupping your jaw, and walked towards his friend, hugging his shoulders to explain your idea while mumbling against his ear. You were still leaning on the bookshelf, and as your gaze never faltered from San’s, you distinctively saw his expression mutate from frustration to stupor, before his eyes locked with yours; he nodded at Wooyoung, before walking towards your outstretched hand, and you saw your boyfriend get in the same position San had been in until few moments later.

«Hi, sunshine.» San chuckled, his voice barely above a whisper as his hands hesitantly stopped to hold your waist.

«Hi, San.» you mouthed back, before you captured San’s lips by pulling on the hair on his nape. San’s kisses were almost shy, almost as if he was still trying to process the fact that his best friend’s girlfriend was about to suck him off in a library, with said bestfriend’s approval. As your tongues met, the kiss gradually became more passionate, and your hand started to massage San’s bulge over the fabric of his jeans, absorbing the other’s whimpers with your lips.

Reluctantly, you let go of the other’s lips and quickly kneeled in front of him, grateful that now both Wooyoung’s and San’s bodies were basically hiding your frame, and you both started working on San’s belt with slow movements, your hands slightly trembling due to your eagerness. Truth was, you definitely wouldn’t have minded to suck him off and then get back home with both of them.

As soon as San’s jeans and boxers were midway down his thighs, your lips immediately closed around the tip of his length, San’s left hand immediately locking in your hair; as much as you wanted to take your time to tease him, you knew you were still in public and someone could still have interrupted you, so you had to save the teasing for some other times.

San’s length wasn’t as thick as Wooyoung’s, but it was slightly longer and definitely more veiny. You repeatedly traced said veins with the tip of your tongue, loving how you could see his abdomen tense up with the hand that wasn’t pumping his shaft. Relaxing your throat, you did your best to completely welcome his length into your mouth, swallowing around it and hollowing your cheeks as your head drove back, and San’s hand would still be tightly holding your hair, while the other was desperately gripping the bookshelves in the attempt not to move his hips in order to meet your mouth halfway.

As you licked along his length with your tongue flat, your eyes locked, and San’s expression was enough to drive you on the verge to come untouched. His hair was falling around his face as he was looking down to follow your movements with hooded eyes, his cheeks were flushed red and his plump lips were parted in a constant silent moan. San’s blissed out expression was enough to made you completely swallow his length once again, but this time, San’s hand prevented you from moving back; you relaxed your throat while you sinked your nails in his thighs, used to do this with Wooyoung, and few seconds later, San drove your head back by pulling on your hair.

It didn’t take much for him to come after that, and you settled for eagerly suck on his tip, swirling your tongue around it as you quickly pumped his length with your hand. San came with a loud whimper, and Wooyoung returned the favour of coughing in order to cover it up. You kept sucking on his tip, collecting his come on your tongue before swallowing it, and slowly stood up in front of San, gently brushing his hair out of his face.

«Was that okay?» you asked with a shy smile.

San scoffed, incredulous at your question. «I can’t believe you’re asking this.» he smiled, and you waited for him to fix his clothes before you walked in front of Wooyoung, now leaning against the bookshelf with a pleased smile.

«That’s my good girl.» Wooyoung whispered, leaning in to kiss your forehead, before brushing few strands of hair out of your face. «Now, go and get your things, we’re going back home.» he smiled, his hands quickly travelling on your hips. «San,» he said glancing at his friend, which was still wearing the same incredulous expression. «Care to join us?»

San’s answer came in the form of said boy reaching in the inner pocket of his leather jacket, in order to toss his car keys at Wooyoung, which caught them mid-air.

«I’m home alone for the weekend.» he said, walking behind you in order to lean his chin on your shoulder, his hands on your lips, right above Wooyoung’s.

Do not modify, repost, translate or plagiarize my stories. I only publish my works on tumblr & AO3.

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#ateez x reader #wooyoung x reader #san x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez smut #greaser au #woosan x reader

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kitconnor · 2 years ago

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hello and welcome to my little blending + colouring tutorial !! in this tutorial, i will be guiding you through colouring blended gifs and how to blend them. i will be using ps 2023. this tutorial assumes you have prior knowledge of basic colouring and timeline !

please note this is the process that i have received the best results from - it might not work for everyone and it likely doesn’t work for every show. but, with the results i have been having, i feel like it’s something i want to share with others !!

p.s. : i will work this tutorial the best i can to accomodate to the new tumblr gif guidelines and bugs !!

GUIDES:

here’s the initial stuff that guided me with my blending and colouring !

blending tutorial by @ helloinej

colouring tutorial by @ helloinej

blending tutorial by @ disaster-lineage

blending tutorial by @ nelsonnicks

keep in mind each of the above have different styles of blending, each also being different to my own. if your final result isn’t the exact same as any tutorial, don’t beat yourself up over it !

STEP 1 - find your scenes.

this step is more important than you think. certain scenes simply don’t blend well and that’s just reality. here’s my preferences:

similar scenes (eg. similar lighting, colouring, setting) blend well.

one moderately well lit scene (ideally not outdoors) + a moderately dark scene (eg. you can clearly get an outline of a face, you’re not adding curves layer after curves layer) CAN blend well, depending.

scenes on two different ends of the spectrum like one daytime outdoors sunshining type scene + midnight dark, obscured faces scenes do not have potential to blend well.

however, you’ll come to know what works through experience !

also make sure that whatever scenes you pick, ideally, there is little to no movement !! this makes it easier when you actually colour the gif later on.

STEP 2 - organize your two gifs.

to blend your gifs, they need to be the same length. i load them into frames first and then i set the speed and trim them to the same amount of frames and layers and then i will crop. then, go convert to timeline > command + option + a (for mac) to select all on the layers + timeline, then right click on your layers and go ‘convert to smart object’.

do this on both of your gifs and then you can sharpen them (i do, so it gives me a better idea of how my gif is looking) or not, depending on how you like to do things.

STEP 3 - the blend.

with my two seperate gifs now, i will take one gif and duplicate it onto the other.

please note that simply performing ‘duplicate layer’ will not be sufficient if you are working with every frame and layer individually. having two seperate smart objects makes things much easier for me and only really changes one or two things that people would normally do.

now, to blend your gifs, go to the gif you duplicated over and change the blending mode to ‘screen’. some people may choose to use ‘lighten’ - do whatever looks best in your opinion.

right now, the background of my top gif is washing out my bottom gif of inej. no worries - we’re going to fix that now.

STEP 4 - the blend part ii (the harder half)

first off, i’m going to adjust the positions of my gifs. the top gif covers too much of the focal point of the bottom gif (inej’s face) so i’m going to move the top one a little to the right and then the bottom one a little to the left so i can get the best view.

now it looks like this:

to begin fixing it, add a ‘layer mask’ to both of the gifs. make sure your foreground colour on your layer mask is set to black. you need a layer mask on both of the gifs because different aspects of each have something interrupting the other.

now, select the ‘gradient’ tool and make sure you have the same setup:

the black colour lets you blend and the transparent end means it does blend. now, using the gradient tool, do this:

and repeat:

(keep in mind i’m not 100% done here !!)

keep using the gradient (or brush) until you’re getting your desired results. do note that when you’re using the gradient tool and, if you have two layer masks (one per gif) that there is a chance that your gradients overlap and the middle point becomes opaque. in that case, i’ll either delete my layer masks and start again, move my gifs or use a brush with a WHITE colour to redo.

play around with your gradient though ! don’t be afraid of messing something up in this process; you can easily go back and fix it. experimenting allows you to learn.

it took me another five minutes to play around and get exactly what i wanted, but what i’m going to do next will actually assist my final result. here’s what it looks like atm:

there’s still a bit of an overlay from that top gif, but when i colour it, it will disappear.

STEP 5 - basic colouring.

this is your curves, levels, colour balance etc. ! there’s not much to say here as everyone does this bit different, but i do advise that whichever gif you work on, you turn off the visibility of the other, and disable the layer mask while you colour. this allows you to achieve the best results.

make sure to use a clipping mask for your colouring layers, and clip them to the corresponding gif.

now i’ve completed the basic colouring and i’m ready to give it some actual colour !!

STEP 6 - colourful colouring !!

next up - actually making it look cool !! start by adding 2-3 blank layers (make sure they’re clipped to the respective gif). with the first layer, go back to your gradient tool and draw a gradient on the “darker half” of your gif. if there isn’t one, just choose which one will help it blend best. also disable your layer mask while you do the colouring !!

where that little bit of the top gif was overlapping on the bottom one, i’ve added a black gradient to it so it blends better.

rn it looks a bit weird, but once you change the blending mode to ‘soft light’ it evens out a lot.

then with my other blank layer, i’ll change my brush to my desired colour and set the size to 200px. from there, i’ll do one half of her face then i’ll make ANOTHER layer, and do around the other half, as such:

then, set the blending mode to either ‘colour’ or ‘hue’, whichever suits best !

after, make sure to clean up with an eraser so it won’t turn the subjects skin that colour. then, you can repeat the process for the other gif !! feel free to switch your colours up too.

here’s both my gifs, coloured individually:

don’t stress about having the perfect colouring where no skin is obscured by the colouring. it won’t be perfect (eg. there’s a tad bit of cyan on her ear) just as long as it works well with the motion !!

STEP 7 - final clean up and save !

and i’m done ! this process is relatively quick and has been giving consistent and high quality results for me, which has been so good. i’m aware that blending is not a quick thing to learn and wanting to incorporate colour is such a hard thing to start. hopefully this has helped <3

#*tutorial #gif tutorial #ps tutorial #userriel #userraffa #usercim #alielook #userrsun #userv #thingschanged #userzesty #userfaiths

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zombiequeenblog · 6 months ago

Note

I often wonder about the first time Copia saw Mouse. How he perceived her and chose to be his. What was it about her, in a Ministry full of Sisters and Brothers who would willingly give themselves to him for passion and lust? Why her? What did she have that he wanted?

Thank you for your lovely ask! You've inspired me to write the following, and I hope you enjoy:

It's here on ao3 if you'd prefer...

The first time he saw her, he nearly didn’t. Merely a glimpse of a pale face framed by darker hair, disappearing with a faint step around a dim corner, quiet as a church mouse. In his many years coming and going from here, he had heard many tales of the abbey’s resident ghosts (primarily from Terzo), but never had he actually perceived anything among the cloistered halls. Well, of course not.. what utter nonsense!

The Cardinal was on his way to his own unwelcoming haunt. Walking briskly through older passageways lit only the more poorly as he went, he stalked his own solitude as usual. A long night of his own dark interests awaited him; thoughts he kept to himself, and deeds unwitnessed by any. He sought his own time and pleasure down here, alone and unbothered just as he preferred, and yet… the sound of that little scuttling step seemed to echo within his mind. It was odd.

The second time he came upon her slight form was as he walked by in a dim and musty hallway, almost stepping on her honestly as she was kneeling, his monk straps ultimately skirting by unconcerned. She didn’t even look up. Quietly, he ascended a staircase just above, where he could pause and observe in secret her little toiling. She was real, then, but who was this little creature?

Racking his brain for only a minute, he recalled Sister Imperator mentioning a recent hire. She wasn’t a new convert then, which was obvious from her lack of habit. No, she was dressed like some kind of a maid, rather inconveniently it seemed, by the way she idly pulled down the hem of her short skirt as she carefully shuffled along on her knees, apparently scrubbing the hall baseboards with great concentration. The Cardinal shook his head a little, Sister had an archaic passion for old-fashioned dress to match the institution. Not that he really objected, mind you… it gave him a certain dignity to don the gloves and such, a power he found much pleasure in. His gaze lingered, finding pleasure in this unsuspecting domestic as well. The sleeves of her button-down were rolled up to expose delicate wrists, her dainty ankles hidden from his gaze in knee-high stockings. The sight of her body, done up so primly yet left vulnerable in the trappings of troublesome clothes just to look pretty, did something to him.

The Cardinal was a quiet admirer of beauty, and she appeared to be beautiful in a quiet way. Solitary and sweet, far too young for him if he were being proper, but he was far from proper, wasn’t he? No one knew the terrible things which brewed darkly within him, had always brewed… stronger and stronger. He stared at her pert little ass for a moment, and wondered what her panties looked like; he could have seen if she wasn’t pressing her thighs together so tightly. Vexing little thing.

Someone was coming down the hallway towards her, and the Cardinal slunk back into the shadows for some reason. His natural reaction annoyed him; why should he feel guilty standing in his own damn home, leering at the help?

It was Papa Secondo, and Copia stayed unnoticed where he was. Secondo stopped beside her, watching grimly, and when she felt sufficiently self-conscious she sat back on her haunches, her fine hair almost tumbling out of its precarious knot.

“Well hello, girl.”

“Oh! Your… um… Excellency! My… my apologies…” The dulcet tones of her voice matched the rest of her, and Copia strained his ears to hear more of it.

“Quite alright, dear,” said Secondo, “I can see you’re busy, but I thought I might suggest…” He cocked his bald head down towards the scrub-brush in her hands. “Push along the grain of the board, it’s easier on the caulking, you know…”

The girl looked down at her task for a moment, and nodded her head. “Yes. Yes, of course, Your Excellency… Th… thank you!” Copia felt his gloved fingers twitching, an urge to pull the ribbon out of her hair almost taking him over.

“You’re welcome, dear.” Secondo continued on his way down the hall, and the girl went back to her work, altering her technique.

Copia rolled his eyes; the old man was simply being supercilious. Who gave a fuck how the baseboards were cleaned? He continued to watch the girl for a minute, and when she fancied herself alone again, he noticed her pointedly go back to her previous scrubbing motion. Copia felt a little grin wash over his face; she had some spirit inside her, apparently. He liked that.

The Cardinal continued to watch her in silence, enjoying perhaps too much the sight of her on all fours, her skirt continuing to ride up to his dark appreciation. She worked so quietly, was so quiet, and he found himself wondering what it would be like to provoke her to noise… a sweet cry or scream. She looked like she had many screams inside her.

Suddenly, stopping her motion abruptly, the girl reeled back and stiffened, holding her hand up with a faint cry. “Damn it…” he heard her exclaim, softly. She squeezed the side of her palm with her other hand, rocking back and forth for a second, and he could see a thin trickle of blood running down her wrist, even in the dim light. Poor little thing, but she didn’t even cry! He wondered if he could make her cry.

The girl let out a little moan, sweeter than he could have even hoped for, and the Cardinal felt something less sweet stirring deep inside him. For a moment, he felt an overwhelming urge to rush forward, and subject the girl to a further kind of violence he had never indulged in before.

Restraining himself, he stayed in the shadows, and watched her kneel there, biting her sweet lip for a moment as she looked upwards into the dull hallway light, finally breathing out her pain with a little sigh he wished he could capture. She couldn’t see him, thankfully, couldn’t see how the Cardinal stiffened his body against the wall, another part of him stiffening in such a way that he knew he’d have to relieve promptly, by himself in private. He stared at her, imagining ways he could make her do it. Force her to take him. Copia bit his own lip; she was fairly vexing, wasn’t she? And entirely unaware of it. Perhaps that was a part of her quiet charm.

With the way his intense gaze was fixed upon her, perhaps it wasn’t so strange when she finally glanced behind her shoulder with a slight shiver. Did she believe in dark things lurking in the shadows? He thrilled to see her uneasiness, the way she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Eventually, she gathered her things and left, stealing quietly away down the darkened hall, a ghost herself, and the Cardinal didn’t trust himself to move until she had disappeared from his sight entirely. Now was not the time to pounce. But soon… by Satan, soon… He almost felt a kind of pity at what he knew he was going to do to her.

She continued to haunt him, and the first words he ever spoke to her were an apology.

#ask box #thank you so much #sadglo #sadglo prequel #I love these thought provoking asks

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t6fs · 4 months ago

Text

When you come to, you're being carried.

The Sixfinger’d Scrimshander wants to help nurse you back to health.

(Do you trust it? It might be trying to poison you!)

It's strange to hear the familiar way it pops the latch to your window from outside of it, but cool London gives way to the familiar smell of your home. You are placed, carefully, on the floor.

"Szopelosz k”ïkhat xïkh..."

There's something in its voice you haven't heard before. It hastily presses something to the worst of your wounds, trying to stop the bleeding.

"Tlo`tï`... tlo`tï` ma..."

Something cold on your cheek. Tears. Not your own. You can hear its heart beating.

"Come on... stay with me... I've got you..."

Do guardian angels cry?

As it lays you against the hard floor of your room, you become paler and paler. The wounds are something inflicted — that much is obvious. The cuts are angled strangely, in a manner that suggests they are not inflicted by the body’s owner. It seems a client had been a little too rough with the man.

Or was it a client at all?

God only knows what you had been doing in Wilmot’s End. Perhaps the gaze from the junior diplomat was not as lascivious as you expected — maybe that lasciviousness was hunger of a different nature. Hunger of a violent nature. The scent of frankincense fills the room — the window leads into a front room that seems to have been converted to an area of prayer. You are lying right next to the altar and think only to do one thing. With shaking, bloodied hands, you clasp them together. Teary, hazy eyes turn to the crucifix.

“Please, Saint Peter… please…”

You turn your eyes to it, coughing slightly. You seem not to realise, in this delirious state of panic, that death is always impermanent, and that Saint Peter has been put out of a job in the Neath for years.

"Shh... no. Look at me."

The Sixfinger’d Scrimshander has seen that you are suffering from Nightmares, and wishes to assist.

It turns your face to its own. Its eye is wide, expression somewhere in the realm of fury... but it's not for you.

No, no. Not for you.

"You're going to live. Look at me. You're going to be okay."

It brushes the bloody tears from your cheek with its thumb. Its voice is as gentle as falling ash.

"I need you to breathe. Focus. Focus on me. Don't look at your blood, don't look at your god. Don't take your eyes off me. Breathe, Edison."

Its voice breaks. Its eye is silver, like a tear-stained moon. Have you ever seen the moon, Edison?

"I've got you."

Moving your clasped hands, you are now clutching its own in a vice grip. You are shaking — more than when you were ill with mania. But you seem not to be as hurt as you are afraid. Looking at it with wide, almost mortified eyes, you let your head tip back against the floor, breathing heavily. In this angle, your eyelids fall nearly closed in the manner in which you are looking at it. The beginnings of sentences come out fragmented.

“I wasn’t… I— I didn’t… he just… stabbed so quickly…”

You choke a little, coughing through the agony again. Your hands grip it tighter.

“He was… trying to… I did not foresee… him having…”

You suck in a strained breath through your teeth.

“It hurts— it’s hurting me— I can’t— it’s hurting…”

Your glittering eyes meet the Scrimshander's again. Tears and sweat have drenched your face. You are baptised in your own agony.

“Please, let me pray… let me pray, Logan. I want… I want to go to Heaven. I want God— I want God to forgive me, please.”

Your eyes clamp shut, squeezing more tears out. If you can grip it any tighter, you do.

“I want to be good enough. I— I’m… trying to be… trying to be good enough… please… let me repent, please. I need… to be good enough.”

In delirium from the pain, you laugh, eyes rolling back to stare up at the altar.

“Who… am I kidding, Logan? Certain… certainly not you. I am… going to Hell. There is no… no place for me in… God’s kingdom.”

What you See:

Its hands move to cup your face, its expression one of grief and a fury you've never seen on the face of anything mortal. Its long, sharp teeth are bared and hungry as its mouth moves, words spilling past them rapidly. Its hands pull back, and it practically tears your bodice free, undoes your bloodsoaked shirt. Its hands find your wounds, and it presses its fingers into your flesh. For the first time, since it carried you home, its eye closes.

Beneath its eyepatch, something begins to give off incredible light.

The light spreads, first, to the whorling scars on the left side of its face, like threads of gold forming a lattice of filigree. The light spreads, illuminating its skull and teeth, and the lichtenberg figure that splits its form, crackling down both arms. Its bones begin to get brighter, and you see the spiral of its ribs through its shirt, the interlacing lattice of veins, the pulsing of its hearts in a harrowing canter. Its face is now so bright it is hard to keep your eyes on it. Its bones glow like a sun, trying to erupt from its skin.

Yours do, too.

When the glow recedes, it collapses beside you, rolling to one side, gasping. A trickle of black runa from its nose, and the space behind its ear where it breathes.

Your body is whole, wounds healed, as though they had never been.

What you Feel:

Warmth, cradling your face. Gentle fingers against your temple, pushing sweat-slick hair from your forehead. Cold tears, but only on your right cheek. The hands recede, and the world is suddenly cold, as your flayed body is bared. Those same gentle hands find your deepest wounds and the pain is sharp and sudden, it is difficult to even breathe.

It is nothing compared to what follows.

The hands on you begin to heat up, and every fibre of your being responds as though you have been electrified. The current of agony you felt before is a gentle embrace compared to this. If you are screaming, you cannot hear it. The fires of Hell would be a pleasant and comfortable warmth. The gilded rot pours through your synapses, the sodium channels of your nerves, and you feel your flesh reaching for itself. The pain of weeks of healing concentrated to this instant.

And then? The pain is gone.

Gone as if it had never been. You hardly even remember it. There are other pains, of course, but they feel almost trivial now.

You feel a hand in yours.

What you Hear:

There is a sob, and a growl.

"No, Edison. Look at me. Don't give up now, please. I can't lose anyone else. I never should have touched you, now you're going t—"

A hiss of frustration, strangled by tears.

"Edison, I will never stop you from praying. Pray all you want, but understand. Please understand. You are perfect. There is nothing you could do that would make you unworthy to exist. You are enough. You change this place with your words, your hands, your laugh. If there's no room for that in your God's kingdom, there's room for it in mine. I'm sorry."

There is a horrible sound like thunder, that shakes you to your bones. Sick cracking and a radio static whine. The Scrimshander gasps, like it's been struck, deep and hollow. There is something else, older than any god. The sound of something gentle, and loving.

An ending, but a peaceful one.

When your ears stop ringing, you focus on the sound of Lok'a`wï`, gasping beside you. How do you know the name of the Keeper of the Question? No time to think about that. It sniffs. Its voice is a threadbare whisper, hoarse and honest.

"I love you, Edison Hollingsworth. I just... wish you could love yourself."

The Sixfinger’d Scrimshander has admitted their admiration for you.

Are you willing to deepen your relationship?

Once it falls to its side, you all but shoot up, gasping for air and clutching at your chest. You tremble, still, though not out of agony. Your hand is desperately gripping onto Logan's in the manner that you might shatter the bones in it.

“A miracle?”

Your voice comes out in the softest whisper. Finding yourself able to stand, you pull yourself from the bloodied floor and stare at the altar in front of you, with something of a mortified expression. At a moment’s notice, you take a framed picture of the Lord, drop it onto the floor, and shatter the glass beneath your red-stained shoe. By the time you are finished with this episode of change, the altar is ruined.

“There is no God in Heaven.”

You announce your revelation to yourself, then drop to your knees, over it, watching its exhausted expression. Your hand comes to wipe the trickling black from under its nose, while another links with the hand that had held yours before.

“It is here on Earth with me.”

With haste, you lean down and press your lips to its own, and it is something more chaste and pure and holy than the million kisses you have forced yourself to bestow to others.

There is something real behind the way you kiss the Sixfinger'd Scrimshander.

You have taken the Sixfinger'd Scrimshander into your arms. You appreciate its admission of affection!

Seen with The Sixfinger'd Scrimshander (1)

(Long post, thanks for stickin around! Thank you @torturingpeople for being so fun to write with!!)

#fl ocs #t6fs #fallen london #my art #failbetter games #scandal is increasing...#churchly #fl.TSL

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