#but like. is there anything making it incorrect to say one in place of the other?
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Do you conlang? I was wondering if you had naming languages (or possibly even more developed ones) for pulling the words you use. I tried to search your blog but didn't find anything, wouldn't be surprised if the feature is just busted tho. Your worldbuilding is wonderful and I particularly enjoy the anthropological and linguistic elements.
Ok the thing is I had kind of decided I was not going to do any conlanging because I don't feel like I'm equipped to do a good job of it, like was fully like "I'm just going to do JUST enough that it doesn't fail an immediate sniff test and is more thoughtful than just keysmashing and putting in vowels". And then have kinda been conlanging anyway (though not to a very deep and serious extent. I maybe have like....an above average comprehension of how language construction works via willingness to research, but that's not saying much, also I can never remember the meanings of most linguistic terms like 'frictives' or etc off the top of my head. I'm just kinda raw dogging it with a vague conceptualization of what these things mean)
I do at least have a naming language for Wardi (and more basic rules for other established languages) but the rudimentary forms of it were devised with methods much shakier and less linguistically viable than even the most basic naming language schemes, and I only went back over it LONG after I had already made a bunch of words so there's some inconsistencies with consonant presence and usage. (This can at least be justified because it IS a language that would have a lot of loanwords and would be heavily influenced by other language groups- Burri being by far the most significant, Highland-Finnic and Yuroma-Lowlands also being large contributors)
The 'method' I used was:
-Skip basic construction elements and fully move into devising necessary name words, with at least a Vibe of what consonants are going to be common and how pronunciation works -Identify some roots out of the established words and their meanings. Establish an ongoing glossary of known roots/words. -Construct new words based in root words, or as obvious extensions/variants of established words. -Get really involved in how the literal meanings of some words might not translate properly to english, mostly use this to produce a glossary of in-universe slang. -Realize that I probably should have at least some very basic internal consistency at this point. -Google search tutorials on writing a naming language. -Reverse engineer a naming language out of established words, and ascribe all remaining inconsistencies to being loanwords or just the mysteries of life or whatever.
I do at least have some strongly established pronunciation rules and a sense of broad regional dialect/accents.
-'ai' words are almost always pronounced with a long 'aye' sound.
-There is no 'Z' or 'X' sound, a Wardi speaker pronouncing 'zebra' would go for 'tsee-brah', and would attempt 'xylophone' as 'ssye-lohp-hon'
-'V' sounds are nearly absent and occur only in loanwords, and tend to be pronounced with a 'W' sound. 'Virsum' is a Highland word (pronounced 'veer-soom') denoting ancestry, a Wardi speaker would go 'weer-sum'.
-'Ch' spellings almost always imply a soft 'chuh' sound when appearing after an E, I, or O (pelatoche= pel-ah-toh-chey), but a hard 'kh' sound after an A or U (odomache= oh-doh-mah-khe). When at the start of a word, it's usually a soft 'ch' unless followed by an 'i' sound (chin (dog) is pronounced with a hard K 'khiin', cholem (salt) is pronounced with a soft Ch 'cho-lehm')
-Western Wardin has strong Burri cultural and linguistic influence, and a distinct accent- one of the most pronounced differences is use of the ñ sound in 'nn' words. The western city of Ephennos is pronounced 'ey-fey-nyos' by most residents, the southeastern city of Erubinnos is pronounced 'eh-roo-been-nos' by most residents. Palo's surname 'Apolynnon' is pronounced 'A-puh-lee-nyon' in the Burri and western Wardi dialects (which is the 'proper' pronunciation, given that it's a Kos name), but will generally be spoken as 'Ah-poh-leen-non' in the south and east.
-R's are rolled in Highland-Finnic words. Rolling R's is common in far northern rural Wardi dialects but no others. Most urban Wardi speakers consider rolling R's sort of a hick thing, and often think it sounds stupid or at least uneducated. (Brakul's name should be pronounced with a brief rolled 'r', short 'ah' and long 'uul', but is generally being pronounced by his south-southeastern compatriots with a long unrolled 'Brah' sound).
Anyway not really a sturdy construction that will hold up to the scrutiny of someone well equipped for linguistics but not pure bullshit either.
#I actually did just make a post about this on my sideblog LOL I think in spite of my deciding not to conlang this is going to go full#full conlanging at some point#The main issue is that the narrative/dialogue is being written as an english 'translation' (IE the characters are speaking in their actual#tongues and it's being translated to english with accurate meaning but non-literal treatment)#Which you might say like 'Uh Yeah No Shit' but I think approaching it with that mindset at the forefront does have a different effect than#just fully writing in english. Like there's some mindfulness to what they actually might be saying and what literal meanings should be#retained to form a better understanding of the culture and what should be 'translated' non-literally but with accurate meaning#(And what should be not translated at all)#But yeah there's very little motivation for conlanging besides Pure Fun because VERY few Wardi words beyond animal/people/place names#will make it into the actual text. Like the only things I leave 'untranslated' are very key or untranslatable concepts that will be#better understood through implication than attempts to convey the meaning in english#Like the epithet 'ganmachen' is used to compliment positive traits associated with the ox zodiac sign or affectionately tease#negative ones. This idea can be established pretty naturally without exposition dumps because the zodiac signs are of cultural#importance and will come up frequently. The meaning can get across to the reader pretty well if properly set up.#So like leaving it as 'ganmachen' you can get 'oh this is an affectionate reference to an auspicious zodiac sign' but translating#it as the actual meaning of 'ox-faced' is inevitably going to come across as 'you look like a cow' regardless of any zodiac angle#^(pretty much retyped tags from other post)#Another aspect is there's a few characters that have Wardi as a second language and some of whom don't have a solid grasp on it#And I want to convey this in dialogue (which is being written in english) but I don't want it to just be like. Random '''broken''' english#like I want there to be an internal consistency to what parts of the language they have difficulties with (which then has implications for#how each language's grammar/conjugation/etc works). Like Brakul is fairly fluent in Wardi at the time of the story but still struggles#with some of the conjugation (which is inflectional in Wardi) especially future/preterite tense. So he'll sometimes just use the#verb unconjugated or inappropriately in present tense. Though this doesn't come across as starkly in text because it's#written in english. Like his future tense Wardi is depicted as like 'I am to talk with him later' instead of 'I'll talk with him later'#Which sounds unnatural but not like fully incorrect#But it would sound much more Off in Wardi. Spanish might be a better example like it would be like him approaching it with#'Voy a hablar con él más tarde' or maybe 'Hablo con él más tarde' instead of 'Hablaré con él más tarde'#(I THINK. I'm not a fluent spanish speaker sorry if the latter has anything wrong with it too)
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is there a tangible difference between a callsign and a nickname or is this a kinda use what you prefer deal
#LIKE IN DEFINITION I know they’re used in different general areas#(callsign has more technical/military use nickname is more interpersonal)#but like. is there anything making it incorrect to say one in place of the other?#are they NOT the same concept (an alternate way to refer to a person)#8.24.24
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#i wish i could just have one normal conversation where i say the right correct things that are normal#in the right tone of voice and everything#this isnt about anyone or any friend stuff it's about me getting a phone call for a job interview & fumbling it#like idk what it is but the way i talk and interact with people is always incorrect#im saying this on the verge of tears. i try so. fucking. hard. to interact and be social#and make connections with people and it feels like im a fucking space alien making a fool of myself#i dont belong in any group ive ever been in and i never will#and i can't even answer a phone call about my availability without my brain melting out of my ears so i forget#everything ive been trying so hard to remember and say and do better#..... i wanna feel like an important person in a group#i wanna be part of something and feel important and like im needed#and i would be missed if i was gone#i think i could just quietly delete all my social media apps and disappear from every place ive ever been in#and nobody would even notice. i literally dont add anything#im just gonna be some awkward random freak in whatever job i get too#im not ever gonna be liked or depended upon or needed for anything#every other job ive had ive always just felt in the way and awkward and clueless#nobody ever makes small talk with me or comes up to me or invites me to stuff#am i doing something wrong? was friendship supposed to come out of it? what did i miss?#im so sick of being a fucking failure i just dont wanna talk to anyone ever again i just wanna be alone forever#its impossible everythign is impossible
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okay that is all i can muster for tonight. my insanity will have to wait.
#AALV TSATS liveblogging#please just mentally picture me chewing on this book#luckily i dont follow too many RR blogs so i am relatively safe from spoilers *[STARES POINTEDLY AT ALL OF YOU]*#nobody send me spoilers i swear#ftr i am still taking literally everything in this book as Optional Canon#im enjoying the writing so far but. bro. you cant drop a major continuity error like that. its just blatantly incorrect.#and then say it's Totally Canon And Actually A Major Thing For These Characters IT DID NOT HAPPEN!!#IT PHYSICALLY COULD NOT HAVE!!#do not misquote the ancient texts to me witch. i was there when they were written#but Writing Is Decent. thankfully Nico's narrative voice is not as jarring as i was expecting#tbh he's actually written here kind like how i write him which is. delightful vindication.#also if we could STOP RETCONNING THE UNDERWORLD that'd be GREAT#will we ever get one trip to the underworld where it is consistent with literally any other trip down there? nope.#none of the details line up. none of the descriptions. ever. any of the times really. in any part.#youd think theyd make anything with Nico and the Underworld and Hades and their powers consistent for this book#based on the book tour is sounded like Mark sure tried#but like. yknow. Nico has a room in the underworld! in BoO his dad literally says ''Yeah you always have a place down here''#and theyre on good terms! also in BoO Nico uses dream powers! it's heavily implied he can inflict nightmares on people#we've known that since TLO actually#anyways. hrmhrhrmhrm grumble grumble#writing good. details i am biting. will keep posted#if yall do want my more unhinged thoughts i am also posting updates as i read in the discord#the ones im posting here are curated for your enjoyment
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the thing about some men is that they want you to remember, at all times, that you are underneath them. that with one word or look or "joke", you will stay beneath them. that even "exceptions" to the rule are not true exceptions - the commonly cited statistic that one in eight men believe they could win against serena williams.
women's gymnastics is often not seen as real gymnastics. whatever the fuck non-euclidian horrors rhythmic gymnasts are capable of, it's often tamped down as being not a sport. some of the most dominant athletes in the world are women. nobody watches women's soccer. despite years of dancing and being built like a fucking brick, men always assume they're faster and stronger than i am. you wouldn't like what happens when they are incorrect. once while drunk at a guy's house i won a held-plank challenge by a solid minute. the party was over after that - he became exceedingly violent.
what i mean is that you can be perfect, and they still think you're ... lacking, somehow. i hope you understand i'm trying to express a neutral statement when i say: taylor swift was the possibly the most patriarchy-palatable, straight-down-the-line woman we could churn out. she is white, conventionally attractive, usually pretty mild in personality. say what you will about her (and you should, she's a billionaire, she can handle it), but a few things seem to be true about her: 1. she can write a damn catchy song, and 2. the eras tour truly was a massive commercial success and was also genuinely an impressive feat of human athleticism and performance.
i don't know if she deserves the title of "woman of the year," i'm not debating that in this post. what i am saying is that she was named Woman of The Year, and then an untalented man got onstage at the golden globes and made fun of her for attending her boyfriend's football games. what i am saying is that this woman altered local economies - and her dating life is still being made into a "harmless" punchline. the camera panned, greedy, over to her downing a full glass of champagne. congratulations taylor! you are woman of the year! but you are a woman. even her.
fuck, man. write better material.
a guy gets onstage at a college graduation and despite the fact like half the crowd is made up of women, he spends a significant proportion of it warning these people - who spent possibly hundreds of thousands of dollars on their education - that they were lied to. that the "real" meaning of femininity is motherhood. that they shouldn't rest on the laurels of that education-they-paid-for but instead throw it away to kneel at a man's heel. imagine that. sweating in your godawful polyester gown (that you also had to pay for!), fresh out of 4 years of pushing yourself ever-harder: and some guy you've never met - who knows nothing about you - he reminds you this "win" is a pyrrhic one at best. you really shouldn't consider yourself that extraordinary. you're still a woman, even after years of study.
god forbid you are not a pretty woman, but if you are pretty, you must be dumb. god forbid you are not ablebodied or white or cis or straight or good at swallowing. you must be beneath a man, or else they are not a man. the equation for masculinity seems to just be: that which is not a woman or womanly (god forbid). anything "feminine" is thereby anathema. to engage in "feminine" things such as therapy, getting a hug from a friend, or crying - it is giving up ones manhood. therefore women need to be put in their place to ensure that masculinity is protected.
this is something i have struggled to explain to terfs - they are not doing the work of feminism, but rather the patriarchy. by asserting that women and men must be (on some secret level) oppositional and in conflict, they also assume that being a woman is akin to being another species. but bigotry does not stem from observational truths or clarity - that is what makes it bigotry. there was nothing in my childhood that made me fundamentally different from my brother. we are treated differently nonetheless. to assert there is some biological drive that enforces my gender role is to assert that women have a gendered role. men do not see women as equal to them not because of biological reality - but instead because the core tenant of the patriarchy is that women aren't full, realized people.
we are told from a very young age to excuse misbehavior as a single man's choice - not all men. it is not all men, just that one guy. all women are gold-digging bitches who belong in the kitchen - but if a man is mean, bigoted, or violent to you, it's just that particular guy, and that means nothing about men-as-a-whole. it is only one guy who got mad when you gently rejected him. it is only one guy who warns her this trophy is heavy, are you sure you can hold it? it is only one guy who smashes her face into the cake. it is only one guy talking into a mic about hating our bodily autonomy.
i have just found that they often wait until the moment we actually seem to be upstaging them. you sit in a meeting where you're presenting your own findings and he says get me a coffee? or you run to the end of the marathon and are about to finish first and he pushes your kids out in front of you. you win the chess game and they make some comment akin to well, you're ugly away. we can be the billionaire and get the dream life and finally fucking do it and yet! still! they have this strange, visceral urge to say well actually, if you think you're so great -
it's not one just one guy. it's one in eight.
#posting my drafts#i want to stress im a taylor swift enjoyer. sorry.#also if someone wants to venmo me for the radfem hate i get daily i need like 60 bucks#someone stole my taylor swift official merch quarter zip :(#the point im specifically making in the tswift paragraphs i hope is clear which is like.#taylor is not threatening their ideas of masculinity or femininity. she is incredibly milquetoast. i mean i love her#but there's nothing about her that challenges the status quo. EXCEPT for her success.#and that's what pisses so many men off: the success.#so if THE VISION of white heteropatriarchy STILL is being treated this way.....#what do you think is happening to minority populations??#i just feel like be annoyed w/her about real things but being weird about her dating someone is like#soooooooooooooooooooooo fucking annoying. like ya know????#[said with the knowledge i need you to be soooo normal about how you interpret this entire piece and also these tags]
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Post-Race Snuggles - Franco Colapinto x Reader
Summary: After an intense Singapore GP, Franco’s idea of the perfect cool down is snuggling up in his girlfriend’s lap; very fluff <3
warnings: possibly incorrect Spanish?
AN - I can't keep lying to myself I think I am not just on here to read anymore lmao, this one is just 1k but I have another longer story coming tomorrow or so! enjoy my lovelies
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The sticky warmth of Singapore’s night air clung to me as I sat in Franco’s motorhome, waiting for him to return. I flicked through some post-race coverage on my phone, knowing how drained he must be after a race like that. The screen showed him smiling during the interviews, but I knew better—Franco’s green eyes gave away just how tired he was.
When the door creaked open, I glanced up and saw him there, looking utterly exhausted, his brown hair messy and damp from the heat. His race suit was unzipped, hanging loosely around his waist. Franco didn’t say anything—he didn’t need to. He walked over with heavy steps, wrapped his arms around me, and buried his face into my shoulder.
“Hi there.” I laughed softly, reaching up to run my fingers through his hair. It was fluffier than usual, curling slightly from the sweat and humidity. “Tough day?”
He let out a low groan, not bothering to lift his head. “Si…” His voice was muffled, and I could feel the exhaustion in the way his body leaned into mine. “So tired.”
I smiled softly, running my hand down his back, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath the fabric of his suit. Suddenly, Franco shifted, pulling back just enough to take my hand in his. His eyes, though heavy with fatigue, met mine for a brief moment, and without a word, he gently tugged me down onto the couch beside him.
With a quiet sigh, he laid back, guiding my body to follow his until I was leaning into him. His head found its way into my lap as he settled in. I felt his hand resting on my waist first, a soft, grounding touch, before it slid down to rest comfortably on my thigh. His thumb moved lazily, tracing small circles, as if he needed to hold onto me even in his tired state.
“You want me to make you something? Mate, or a snack?” I asked quietly, brushing my fingers through his hair, feeling the warmth radiating from his skin.
He shook his head slowly. “No, just this. Esto es todo lo que necesito.” His voice was soft, the Spanish slipping out naturally as his eyes fluttered closed. His arms loosened slightly around my legs, his thumb brushing lazily against my thigh, the lightest touch, as if even that small movement required too much effort.
I chuckled, running my hand through his hair again, smoothing it down where it stuck up in odd places. “You did amazing today. P11! I’m so proud of you.”
A faint smile curved his lips. His breathing started to slow, the tension melting away as I continued stroking his hair. This was my favorite version of Franco—the quiet, soft one who didn’t need to be witty or flirty. Just the one who wanted to be close.
Franco’s weight settled fully against me, his eyes were shut now, his messy curls resting in my lap. His thumb continued its slow, lazy patterns on my leg, the sweet small gesture sending warmth through me. His skin was warm from the heat of the race, his hair slightly damp, and I couldn’t help but notice how beautiful he looked, even when he was this tired. His lashes were long, his green eyes hidden behind them, and his lips, parted slightly as he breathed, were soft, with the faintest smile still playing there.
“You looked so good out there today,” I whispered, knowing he probably couldn’t hear me in his tired state. “Fast, confident… and you know, kind of cute with all that sweaty hair.”
He let out a soft, breathy chuckle. “Most romantic thing you’ve ever said to me.”
I grinned. “Don’t get used to it. I’m only nice to you when you’re too tired to remember.”
His lips twitched into a smile, but he didn’t respond, his breathing evening out even more. The motorhome was dimly lit, casting soft shadows, making everything feel even cozier. The sounds outside—people moving around the paddock, the distant hum of engines cooling down—faded away. It was just us, tangled up in the warmth of each other’s presence.
As I stroked his hair, I could feel him relax completely. His body was fully at ease, and I knew he was almost asleep. He looked so peaceful, his usual spark of energy tucked away for the night. I smiled down at him, my heart full. These moments, after the chaos of race days, were our little slice of quiet, where it felt like the world didn’t exist outside this motorhome.
Franco shifted slightly, nuzzling deeper into my lap. I thought he was fully asleep until his voice broke the silence, soft and raspy.
“Te amo,” he murmured, his eyes barely open, heavy with exhaustion.
My heart skipped a beat. He’d said it before, but hearing it now, with his defenses down, made it feel different. I glanced down, expecting to see him fully asleep, but instead, those green eyes peeked up at me through his lashes, tired but full of something deeper.
I felt a rush of warmth fill my chest. “I love you too,” I whispered, leaning down to kiss his forehead again, my fingers gently running through his hair.
His eyes fluttered shut at the kiss, his lips curving into a faint smile. “Más que a nada en el mundo…” he mumbled, his voice trailing off into sleep, the weight of his words lingering between us like a quiet promise.
I stayed like that, holding him close as he drifted off completely, my hand still in his hair, thinking about how easy it was to love him—especially in moments like this.
#formula one#franco colapinto x reader#franco colapinto#fc43 x reader#franco colapinto imagine#f1 x reader
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There is a phenomenon happening on Tumblr right now which may be a product of the Twitter exodus or maybe its just modern fandom mentality vehemently rejecting the old, but you guys have GOT to stop being so damn MEAN about fandom.
There are posts circulating on Tumblr right now hating on so many aspects of fandom. Yeah we all know the incorrect quotes format can be cringe and most of the time its the same quotes used for every fandom ever reducing the characters to stereotypes. Yes we know most fandoms scramble to ship the two basic white guys over all the other characters. Yes we know your blorbo probably Does Not Fucking Say That. Yes we know A/B/O is weird AF (especially now its breached containment and found its way into mainstream hetero erotica). Yes we know SuperWhoLock was ridiculous and attempts to make modern shows into a new SuperWhoLock have got old fast.
But do you have to constantly drag these things all the time? Why is it suddenly cool and popular to ridicule and criticise and hate on peoples fun?
Let people be cringe
Let people play in the fandom sandbox
Let people have their fun
Not everything has to be an intellectual critique and it doesn't make you a better person to constantly shit on fandom ON THE FANDOM WEBSITE
Fandoms can be problematic, toxic, and infuriating at times. But all the negativity isn't making things better. Yeah okay some aspects of fandom can be annoying, but must we have so many call out posts go viral on here specifically for hating on parts of fandom culture? Yet people wonder why fandom creators are quitting and there isnt as much art and interaction on here as there used to be.
If you see another negative post shitting on aspects of fandom cross your dash, maybe think before you reblog it. Maybe ask yourself if that post may be hurtful to a mutual? Perhaps youve got a mutual who writers A/B/O or CharacterxReader fanfiction who doesnt wanna see your reblog of the callout post stating reader×character fanfic is gross, or perhaps your mutual creates fun text posts applying quotes to their fave characters and youve just reblogged a 90k+ note post calling them cringy and overdone.
Just THINK please. Its not necessary. We've got to be KINDER to each other. Please don't let this place become like Twitter. Twitter was a toxic cesspool where no one had anything worthwhile to add to the discussion, no one created, everyone was just screaming angry rants into the void. Dont let tumblr become like that, because it will be the death of this place. And where will you go to find fanart and gifsets of your blorbos then?
#fandom#im fed up of seeing these 90k plus posts#that do nothing but shit on core elements of fandom#if you hate fandom that much just fuck off#get off tumblr#its so annoying
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baby daddy.
paige bueckers x reader
3.2k
like guys . I don’t even know what to say rn . this is PURE fucking filth like yas there is some exposition in the beginning and its dialogue heavy but like ✋✋ just know this is fucking porn . So sorry for anon if this isn’t up to par but the wormz took over my brain and this is all i have to show for it . Love u so much for the idea tho <3
ANYWAYZZZ !!!! you and paige buy a strap. filth ensues.
MAJOR 18+ WARNING!!!!
“babe.”
it’s deadpan, borderline exasperated as you turn your head, meeting a wildly unimpressed expression from paige that makes you snort out loud, hand coming up to cover your mouth.
in your girlfriends hand, dangling from her fingers, is a dildo of some sorts, shaped horrifically in the form of an anatomically incorrect fist, and it’s almost impossible to keep your surprised laughter from bubbling out, taking a step closer with a look of awe.
“dude, you’re kidding,”
“babe, why are we even here? like, deadass i have two hands and ten fingers, this is so extra.”
to be fair, she had a point— those two hands and ten fingers had never done you wrong in the slightest, but this was simply an act of impulse, deciding just that morning after you guys had spent the time with each others hands down each others pants, you’d declared in a sudden rush of post-nut clarity, that you simply had to see paige in a strap.
which, was met with a bit of intrigue and then, obviously, because paige bueckers is competitive in anything she can consider herself good at, couldn’t help but interrogate you in outright disbelief.
‘so, what i’m hearing is that i’m not enough?” it was said in the tone she uses when her sarcasm is over the top, and you can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of you, slapping her arm.
‘baby, stop being so dramatic, oh my god.”
you’d kissed her to silence her delusions as to why you’d even brought it up in the first place, before explaining ever so gently that it was never a matter of what paige couldn’t do, and more so about the capabilities of what she could do, and that you promised it would be fun.
truly, she was on board after you’d told her that for some girls it was hard to use, so that, ‘if she couldn’t handle it, she could give up’ — of course paige would never back down from a challenge.
“you do have two hands, and i love them just the same. i just wanna try it, okay? is that okay?” you say it in your quiet, softest voice, and maybe you’re kinda being a brat because you know paige could never say no to you when you talk like that, or when you walk up to her, tracing a thumb against her cheek before pulling her down to peck her nose.
it’s immediate the way she chases your lips, presses a quick one to your mouth before she’s rolling her eyes, “anything for my baby, i guess.” but, she’s smiling, and that feels like more progress than before.
in the end, you guys end up picking something pretty beginner level— it’s only six inches, has a dual ended pleasure vibrator nestled in the crotch for the one wearing it and due to paige’s prompt request, it is in fact purple, which only makes you laugh at the excited shimmy she does as you both walk out, hand in hand, the black privacy sack swinging between her fingers.
“thought you were so against the idea?” you couldn’t help but tease her once you guys are in the car, music already blasting— you know all her music without really knowing it, but it’s definitely something by brent faiyaz.
“yeah,” she shrugs, “until i thought about getting to fuck you with it.” she says coyly, glancing over at you with a raised eyebrow before she’s pulling out of the lot, hand secured on your thigh.
you guys don’t really get to it that night, or the next day— instead settling for the slow, tired morning sex that you guys indulge in before her practice and then after, the languid, loving type of sex you both revel in for the evening when she’s back at the dorms.
no, for some reason, it isn’t until a week or so later that it suddenly comes up— and even then, you weren’t necessarily thinking about it too hard, not until the teams all at dinner. you, paige, KK, and aubrey all sit together, and it’s really in moments like these that you love to actually participate in conversations with the team— KK and aubrey had been one of the first to welcome you in with open arms after you and paige had begun dating, so you really felt most at ease with them, even if they could be complete idiots.
not like paige was any better.
it had started with someone making a tiktok, going around asking who they’d never let their son or daughter date— resoundingly, enough people said paige, which was both parts hilarious for you, and astounding for paige.
“bro! literally i’m like, the best girlfriend, that’s some bull.” she couldn’t help but scoff, even if she’s smiling just a little, “baby, i’m a good girlfriend, right?”
you purposely take a minute to answer, pretending to think about it until she grasps your thigh beneath the table, making you snicker as she squeezes, and suddenly, you know exactly the angle she’s playing.
“girl, i don’t trust you,“ KK snorts, making a face, “you’d probably get my kid pregnant or somethin’, like—“
KK’s words make paige snort, shrugging a bit, “shoot, i mean, no wonder they call me baby daddy.” she sticks her tongue out, entirely too immature for the setting of the restaurant, but it makes you warm all over anyway— you love her, even when she’s being childish, which is pretty much most of the time.
the conversation continues after that, and though you pay attention, laugh when it’s funny and answer when you need to, you can’t quite get that out of your head— baby daddy.
it makes you think.
it’s late by the time you guys get home, and true to paige’s fashion, the door is only shut and locked for a second before she’s behind you, pressing kisses to your neck and sliding hands up your shirt, humming quietly— “i’m a good girlfriend, yeah?”
it’s not often that paige asks for reassurance, mostly because she usually already knows, but it’s why it makes it extra special when she does.
“duh.” you whisper out, tilting your head back to grant her more access while she sneaks a hand into your jeans, forgoing the button entirely. her fingers are prodding against your clit when you let out a soft moan, your fluttering eyes only opening for half a second before they spot the black sack from across the room, your own hand gently grasping her wrist to still its movements.
“baby, why don’t we…?” your tilt your head in the direction, leaning your head sideways to try and capture her reaction.
surprisingly, she looks just as interested.
it’s comes out quietly, pressed to your temple, “get on the bed then.”
you don’t waste much time, stepping out of your jeans and your top until there’s nothing left but the black, simple thong that rests against your hips, crawling back against her purple sheets with an inquisitive look on your face while she pulled the thing from its plastic package.
“remember what you said earlier?” you say offhandedly as you watch paige’s muscles flex and tighten, looping the belt around her before she glances up at you, “which part?”
“baby daddy,” you can’t help but grin, tossing your head back against the bed, “just wanted to see how true that is.”
paige scoffs, and it’s obvious she likes that, plays into it even as she crawls onto the bed, looking down at you with a narrowed glance, “how true what is? that i could get you pregnant?”
it’s almost immediate the way your body flushes at that, the subconscious squeeze of your thighs together as you look up at her through lidded eyes, “mhm. is that bad?”
“i mean,” she’s smirking though, and her hand wraps around the strap on slowly, as if simulating it to be an extension of herself— it’s really fucking hot, “it’s sexy that you even thought about it like that,” she whispers, and you can practically see the confidence rising within her at the prospect, before her eyes flicker up at you. “wanna suck me off, ma?”
it makes something within you go haywire, and your mouth practically fills with saliva as if to prepare for it before you nod slowly, propping yourself up on your elbows before you stick your tongue out, paige’s blue orbs never leaving you for one second, before she’s sighing, hard under her breath, “fuuuck.”
she gets up on her knees, running her hands through your hair to gently guide your mouth down to the tip, her teeth teasing the bottom of her lip as you slowly slid the length into your mouth. it felt foreign, heavy on the tongue, but the texture was so lifelike, it almost felt like it was attached to paige.
“shit, baby,” she sounds out of breath as she thumbs your hair from your eyes, wanting to catch every dirty look you send up to her, mouth full and eyes watering, “god, you’re such… a slut.”
it must’ve been the strap or something, that had the endless string of dirty talk spilling from paige’s mouth, not entirely too uncommon and yet it had shifted the atmosphere completely. it felt lavacious, provocative, tantalizing even.
still, it makes the arousal pool between your legs, making you practically squeeze your thighs together again and again, chasing the feeling of some type of friction as paige pushed her hips up slightly, the tip only then touching the back of your throat and eliciting the first drop of a tear from your eye.
she notices, because she doesn’t miss a thing, and is slow as she pulls it from your mouth, eyes lingering on the string of saliva that connected your bottom lip from the tip of the strap.
she’s breathing heavy, blonde strands falling into her face, loose from the usual braid she kept her front pieces in as she grasps your jaw, “does that hurt?”
it doesn’t, but it makes you smirk that she even asks, shaking your head before you lean back now, head hitting the mattress as you open your thighs, raising an eyebrow inquisitively.
“you can make it hurt,” you suggest, and paige lets out a slow exhale, a teasing grin on her smile as she grasps it by the hilt, “you’re driving me fucking crazy, y’know that?” the words are hissed down at you, spoken between her lips, chapped from how hard she’d been breathing as she rubs the tip of the now warmed, messily lubricated length against your cunt, eyes narrowed and focused as she drags it up, then down.
“you’re so wet,” it sighs out of paige as if she doesn’t even realize that she’d said it, a whine puffing past your lips involuntarily, ready to spit some type of urgency towards her, until she pushes in, finally, and you fucking gasp.
it was unlike what you’d really ever felt before— especially having never been with men or experimenting with penetration on this degree. it’s thicker than you expect, thicker than paige’s fingers combined, and your back arches upwards off the bed, right as paige grasps your hip to keep you right in place. “shh, shh— fuck, you’re so good, baby.”
“ohhh- oh fuck, paige—“ the words come out in a mess of noises, as you fling an arm over your face to try and focus on the comforting rub of paige’s thumb, the smell of her cologne, instead of the stretching, hot pressure that’s collected between your legs.
it only takes a couple moments before it doesn’t completely hurt, but the second that it does, you can finally blink your watery eyes open, letting out a soft moan at the furrowed eyebrows on paige’s face, her own lips parted as she carefully gives a shallow thrust into you, the subsequent friction of the dull, now audible buzzing of the vibrator on the other end of the dildo against her clit and it’s obvious.
it’s in the way she grunts, tongue darting out to seek attention to her bottom lip. “s’that feel good?” she’s panting already, and it makes your stomach swirl in arousal, nodding quickly as she gives another slow, but shallow thrust that sends immediate shivers up your spine, a rush of rampant pleasure up your stomach as you let out a groan, “more?”
it doesn’t take long for paige to find a rhythm— surprising considering her dancing abilities— and once she does, you can practically sense the confidence that radiates off of her. it’s in the way she wraps an arm around your thigh to hoist your leg up, higher, higher, until your cunt is on full display, and she’s leaning atop you, pressing wet kisses to your breasts as she drags her hips into you, each push making you both shudder out a moan.
“shit, baby— so fucking— so fucking wet. wan’me to fuck a baby into you, huh?” paige always has a habit of going on these fuck-drunk tangents, ones that usually send you careening over the edge in due time, but this— it makes you mewl into her ear, the thick, heavy weight of the strap punching into you, deeper than you or paige could ever reach, and it makes your hips jerk upwards, wanting more of it, all of it.
for half a second, you hoped, by some weird anatomical technique, she could get you pregnant.
“ohhh— fuck! paige, paige— pleasepleaseplease—“ what you’re begging for, even you can’t decipher, but it’s really just to make sure that she rocks into you like that again.
and she does— again and again, drool collecting in the corner of your mouth from how long your lips have been parted, and paige looks at you, delirious and flushed as she drags her thumb over your mouth, wipes away the spit and reaches between you two.
before you can figure it out, you feel her finger tracing the outside of your stretched cunt, the wetness that’s collected there as she lets out a wanton sigh, something more high pitched than what paige usually grunts out, “stretching you s’good, baby— fucking- take it, jus’ like that— fuck, wanna fuck you stupid, baby.”
it’s almost too much. your head presses hard against the comforter as paige’s hips push flush against your own, the final stab of the length being inside of you makes your head swim, your body acting upon it’s own accord as your thighs, shaking, squeeze around paige’s hips, your stomach flexing and jumping as paige gives up whatever bit of composure or control she has left, before she’s quick to fuck into you without a single strand of resistance.
it’s hot, heady, and the sweat that collects on the surface of your skin is almost like a sense of accomplishment as her face falls into your neck, your thighs pushed impossibly high to give her the best angle, as she ruts into you. the slight curve of the dildo somehow gives a direct angle to your g-spot, and it punches a shout out of you, one that’s followed with a crying whine that even you knew was bound to get you both caught.
“fffuck— shhh- shut the fuck up—“ her mouth is on your neck in an instant, other hand quick to clamp over your mouth, but the friction against paige’s clit has her bottom lip quivering, struggling to close as each of her gravelly, breathy moans launch right into your ear, and it’s clear that she’s being greedy, grinding the strap into your cunt for the effort of chasing her own high, and it’s fucking sexy.
this deep, you can almost feel the fucking vibrator, and it reduces you into nothing— fingers twine into paige’s hair, sweaty and sticky, as she fucks into you with reckless abandon, the bed frame squeaking in protest, your cunt wet enough that you can fucking hear it, can feel it drip onto the bed below, feel it coating the sheets and paige’s thighs and you think she’s about to orgasm with how quick her breath has gotten, how shaky her hips are with each incessant thrust, like an earthquake pulsing through your body and it makes you sob, because it feels so fucking good, and paige is so deep, you can feel her everywhere.
“wanna cum inside of’you— ohmyfuck- please, wanna fuck my babies into you— iloveyou, so, fucking- so fu-ucking sexy, baby, fuck.”
it’s all gibberish really, a promise that makes you turn into a pile of mush, because you can feel your cunt tighten around it— delusionally, you imagine paige can feel it too— because even her declaration of love is enough to send you flying over the edge as your legs tighten around her hips, the vibrator nestled deep against paige’s clit until she’s coming too, and it’s a glorious thing to hear— ripping from her throat in a cacophony of throaty groans and whines that mimic yours, only deeper, grittier.
she thrusts into you, sloppy and out of control until you can feel her release on your cunt, spread against your thighs, the dull vibration now pressing hot and wet against you, so much so that it makes your body flood in aftershock, pleasure wracking through you in earnest as your body twitches and jumps, every embarrassingly high pitched noise ripping from your throat, as paige’s go muddled and unintelligible against your neck.
it’s like a cathartic release of sorts, leaving you feeling boneless and jellied in the wake as you slowly return to your senses, fucked out and exhausted as you try to experimentally move your hips, but the soreness between your legs is almost unfathomable.
“shit—“ you hiss as paige finally lifts her head, her own hand slow to guide the strap from your abused cunt, and it’s clear by, not only the tired, almost loopy smirk on her face, but the redness in her eyes, the wetness coating her lashes, that she’d enjoyed herself as much as you had— and while sex between you had always been mutual, it wasn’t often you got to see her fully release like that.
“was that good, hm? did i do okay?” she’s always quick to look for approval, her hand coming up to brush the tears from your face, to pepper a light array of kisses against your lips, chapped and puffy, as you let out a tired laugh, “fucking duh, that shit was… so hot,” you trace her blonde strands, plastered to her forehead, away from her face, “don’t think i’ve ever heard you sound like that.”
it makes her cheeks red, eyes rolling with a scoff, as she lets out a quiet laugh, already trying to play it off as cocky instead of flushed, “well- yeah, ‘cause, i was watching you take my dick.” you slap her arm weakly with a snort, wincing at her usage of words, “ew, you’re so gross.”
“and you’re so pretty,” she counters, before pressing a quick kiss to your mouth.
you both don’t really try to address the fact that there was probably no way you’d both been quiet enough to not at least alert one of the girls, but you ignore it anyway.
besides, it’s only KK that ends up putting you both in a group message the next morning, sending a string of angry emojis and a text that says, ‘bye. im moving rooms’.
you both laugh, because you know she’s not, and more so, you all three know it wasn’t the first time and definitely not the last.
#paige bueckers x reader#paige bueckers smut#writing asf#paige bueckers#smut#wlw#still feel like i could get even worse
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shy! reader request: eddie & reader having their first sleepover? reader bein all cautious about her actions and if it’s ok and eddie seeing this just lifts up the blankets to the bed to welcome her in to snuggle :)
love love love this request! hope you enjoy :D — eddie tries to make his shy!gf feel at home in his trailer (fluff, new relationship hijinks, 2k)
bug's one year celebration ♡
Despite what people say, Eddie Munson does not drive like a maniac.
Correction— Eddie Munson doesn’t drive like a maniac when there’s a pretty girl in his van.
Even though you’re pretty much the first girl to be in his van period (and even though you wouldn’t consider yourself all that pretty), you’re glad to be an exception to the rule. Your panoply of anxieties couldn’t have handled anything more than the passably steady car ride from Benny’s Burgers to Forest Hills.
You don’t mean to let out a sigh of relief when he parks in his driveway.
Eddie grins and unlatches his seatbelt with a soft click at the same time you do. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?” he asks with eyes just as wild as his hair.
You shake your head with your lips pursed to the side, then peer at him from beneath your lashes. “After everything Steve said, I was expecting a lot worse,” you confess. And even though you duck away from him, Eddie can still see the small smile on your petaled mouth. Just as quiet as you are.
“Well, one, don’t listen to anything Steve says, okay? Like, ever,” Eddie cajoles lightheartedly. “And two, I don’t drive crazy when I have precious cargo sitting next to me, alright? Stevie’s just jealous ‘cause I think you’re prettier than he is.”
Your nose scrunches as you try to worm your way out of his compliment. “So you think Steve’s pretty?” you tease, already knowing the answer.
He scoffs. “Totally! Just not pretty like you. And don’t tell him I said that either— It’ll just go to his hair.”
The incorrect turn of phrase makes you giggle.
He turns his knees towards the door and curls his fingers around the latch. “Wait for me a second, will ya?” you hear him mumble before he hops to the ground. He slams the door shut behind him and rounds the hood on his way to you — sneakers crunching against the gravel, momentarily aglow with yellow headlights.
He’d done this before at the diner. You wait patiently for his arrival like you did then, even though you feel a bit silly doing so. You’re more than capable of getting out yourself, but Eddie always insists.
He opens the passenger side door for you with a tightlipped, lopsided grin and holds his free hand out towards you. His fingers are larger and much warmer than yours as they wrap around your palm to guide you out.
The van isn’t that high up off the ground, really. He just likes to hold your hand.
You don’t mind it, though. You’ll take any opportunity to hold him back.
He leads you up the driveway and inside the trailer with his hand entwined with yours. “Wayne’s not here?” you murmur when you’re finally inside, noticing how quiet and empty the place is.
Though maybe empty’s not the right word. The place is filled with stuff — old furniture, a collection of mugs, and various other necessities. Not a mess, just an organized chaos of miscellaneous clutter. It feels like a home. Like a place that’s been lived in.
“No. He’s at work. Graveyard shift,” Eddie answers, tossing his keys onto the coffee table with a high-pitched clack.
He starts to shrug off his leather jacket and notices how squirrelly you seem, all skittish with your face twisted with a distant worry. Your neck twitches softly, head tilting once to the side and back up again. Your quiet concern becomes his own.
His brows raise, hidden beneath his curly bangs, as he slides the fabric down his tattooed arms. “Is that okay?” he wonders, eyes wide and twinkling with apprehension.
“Yeah!” you answer, louder and quicker than you mean to. You’re obviously overcompensating, but you shrug it off anyway. You smile sweetly at him, even though it wavers at the edges, and tilt your cheek to your shoulder. “I was just— It was just a question.”
“Are you sure?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“‘Cause it’s okay if you don’t wanna stay the night,” Eddie assures you, giving you an out so you don’t have to make one yourself. “It’s whatever, you know? Give me the word, and I’ll take you back home. I’ll just spend the night all alone… In an empty trailer… In bed all by myself…”
His quiet smirk widens to a broader beam when he nears you. His pale hands curl around your arms, the faded bats below his thumb sitting neatly outside your elbow.
He’s joking, of course. Well, not about the taking you home part, but about all the rest of it.
He thinks he’d die if he ever made you feel anything less than totally safe. Dying would feel easier, at least. He’d never make you feel bad about being anxious, or coerce you into hiding your feelings for his sake. He cares about you far too much for any of that.
So his tense heart rests a bit when you smile.
“I’m okay,” you tell him, quiet but still sincere.
The boy brightens all at once. Excited in such an innocent, boyish way. “So I get to kiss you all night long?” he wonders in a disbelieving murmur.
“Only if you want,” you answer with burning cheeks and clammy hands.
“Well, I do want… I want very much…”
He kisses you then, until your lungs run out of air. Standing together in the middle of his living room, lit by so many yellow lamps, with the croaking of frogs and the chittering of crickets sounding in the navy blue night.
He pulls away sometime after. Maybe a second. Maybe an eon or more. He recovers from being so ardently kissed much quicker than you do and guides you down the short hallway to the single bedroom. You still feel the imprint of his mouth against yours, like he’s still there.
Your lips tingle with longing, grieving the lack of him.
You still make him turn around before you change, though.
“It’s nothing I haven’t seen before,” he teases from the very center of his mattress, right before turning onto his stomach and shoving his face into the pillow.
“It’s different,” you murmur, mostly to yourself, as you slide the sleeves of your dress down your shoulders. The fabric falls to the carpeted floor in a puddle at your feet. You make quick work of redressing, as though there were some kinda time limit to what you had asked of him.
“I know,” he replies, muffled into the cushion his cheek is smushed against. “You’re still pretty, though.”
“You can’t even see me,” you argue and slide a pair of frilly sleep shorts over your thighs.
“I’d still think you were pretty even if I never saw you again.”
“Jeez,” you laugh, shoving your head through the neckline of a band-tee older than you are.
“…That sounded kinda morbid, huh?”
You giggle again. This time because his voice is still smothered into the pillow, stifled and utterly faint. “Just a little,” you answer.
“Well, it was supposed to be a compliment.”
“I know. You can turn around now.”
Eddie lifts his wild head and peeks at you over his shoulder, one eye squinted shut just in case he heard you wrong.
You’re less dressed up than before, but still as pretty as you were ten minutes ago.
The subtle domesticity of seeing you in pajamas makes his chest ache. It’s like doing laundry or making a shopping list — something so utterly mundane that’s so strikingly tender.
“Pretty,” Eddie mumbles some moments later, when his brain forgets every word but that one.
“Shut up.”
Your hands wring together as you idle at his bedside, like you need some kinda invitation to come closer. Your head tilts again, a gentle swaying of your head that seems almost involuntary.
“Why do you keep doing that?” Eddie wonders with a soft pink, inquisitive grin.
‘Cause this isn’t the first time you’ve done it. You did it earlier, when you first walked in, and a couple times at the dinner. Like when you catch him staring or after he’s complimented you. It’s almost like you have some genuine aversion to his affection.
“Doing what?” you murmur, all innocent.
Eddie swings his legs off the side of the mattress, socked feet melting into the carpet. His parted thighs are enough of an invitation as you settle intently between them.
“That thing with your neck,” he answers when he’s fully upright. “The uh…” He replicates it for you, drops his cheek to his shoulder and brings it back up again. He doubts he looks nearly as cute as you do doing it.
You get so self-aware that your stomach starts to ache. “I don’t know,” you answer through the frog in your throat. “I do that sometimes, I guess— When I get nervous. I can’t really help it.”
“Nervous?” Eddie echoes, face twisted with sudden anguish. His hands reach for your wringing ones. He musters a shaking smile up at you. “Babe— Why are you nervous?”
You dig your bare feet into the carpet, shifting your weight and ducking your gaze like a nervous child. “‘Cause I haven’t slept over before. And I don’t really know what to… do. Like, what if I snore really loud? Or drool a lot? What if I accidentally punch you in my sleep or something?”
Eddie doesn’t mean to laugh in the face of your genuine worries, but it spills out before he can stop it. It’s so like you to stress yourself sick over something that’s about as likely to happen as getting struck by lightning.
“I’d probably like you more, honestly,” he answers, giving your clammy hands a gentle squeeze. His nose scrunches until the edges of his eyes crinkle. “You’re too perfect. You need something to humble you.”
“Don’t be nice to me, I’m being serious.”
“If it’ll make you feel better, I can sleep on the couch. Or on the floor or something—”
“It’s your house, Eds.”
“Well, I’m not making you sleep on the couch, and especially not on the floor. Even if I was that big of an asshole, I think Uncle Wayne would kill me.” He grows suddenly serious a second later. Still smiling, but with something more earnest in his eyes. “But… I do think we’d be more comfortable, you know, in a bed. Together.”
He’s right, but it doesn’t mean you’re happy about it. Not because you don’t want to sleep in the same bed as him, but because you’re too anxious to let yourself enjoy a good thing.
“I’m just bad at sleepovers, I think,” you confess in a tiny voice, like that fact isn’t utterly obvious now. “Like, one time, I was at a friend’s house in middle school, and I used a poster as a blanket ‘cause I was too scared to ask for a real one.”
Eddie’s smile widens. The rose petal expression blooms so large it makes his cheeks hurt.
“Of course, you did,” the boy says with a shake of his head, frizzy curls swaying around the outsides of his jaw. “You’re so damn cute, you know that?”
You make a vague, grumbly noise of disdain right before Eddie wraps you in his arms. He pulls you softly down until you’re sitting on his jean-clad thighs, then buries his face into your shoulder. You smell like the soap you showered with and the burgers you ate and the perfume you put on just for him.
Eddie presses his lips there, to your collarbone, where the neckline of your shirt has dipped slightly down. He lingers there for a moment, then pulls away with a soft smack.
“I promise to make this the best damn sleepover you’ve ever had in your life,” he promises, muffled from where his nose is smushed into your neck.
“Yeah?” you mumble into the curls tickling your chin.
He nods, still pressed against you. “And I promise to tuck you in before bed so you don’t have to go using my posters as blankets, either.”
You push him away with a half-hearted hand. His boyish laughter paints the tiny bedroom golden. He pulls you back a second later, and you melt into him without thinking twice.
#published by bug#eddie munson x reader#stranger things x reader#eddie munson#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson imagine#stranger things#stranger things imagine#stranger things fanfiction#stranger things fic#stranger things fanfic#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson fic#st drabbles#eddie spaghetti drabble#event: bug turns one
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🖤 Pairing: Damian Priest x f!Reader 🖤 Summary: Damian’s best friend catches him. 🛑 Warnings: NSFW. Masturbation (m only), joi (jerk off instructions), spit, cum, dirty talk 18+ 🖤 Notes: Spanish translations are at the end of the story. I do not speak Spanish, so if anything is incorrect, please let me know and I’ll fix it! 🖤 Taglist: @eddiesrockstargirlfriend. If you’d like to be added, please click here! 🖤 Requested By: @kimmbery. Hope you enjoy! 🖤 MASTERLIST
Her eyes flutter open and after a brief moment of disorientation, she realizes she must have fallen asleep while she and Damian were watching a Cops marathon. She glances toward the other bed to be sure he’s there, since he’s not next to her, as his presence is required of late to help her sleep. The TV offers the only illumination in the room, casting a blue hue over every surface, and her vision is a bit bleary from having just woken up, but she can make out Damian’s long body, partially covered by the comforter. Blinking, she notices he’s holding his phone close to his bare chest, various colors flickering across his handsome face and the tattoos on his broad shoulders. Her gaze drifts down his arm, licking her lips as his bicep flexes, and she follows it to his hand, which is wrapped around one of the biggest—if not the biggest—cocks she’s ever seen in real life. Her heart skips, drums erratically, stops, and then returns to beating normally, though at an incredibly high rate of speed. Could she be dreaming? She discreetly sneaks a hand out from under the blankets to rub her eyes, and after blinking several times, she looks again to find the same scene unfolding on the bed opposite her. Damian Priest, her best friend, is jerking off while watching what is probably porn on his phone.
Her first instinct should have been to try and sneak a picture so she could send it to him in the middle of his session, but the allure of witnessing a sexy man stroke his own cock is too overwhelming. Awash in the glow of the TV, she observes his technique of a few quick pumps before a series of slow, deliberate ones. Is he edging himself? God, that’s hot. Her mouth fills with saliva, eyes rounding, as Damian touches the tip of his dick with his finger, coming away with a string of precum that he then uses for lube as he continues pumping the shaft. She can hear him breathing now, short, quick respirations, and she wonders how close he is to coming.
“Jesus!” Damian hisses, hand releasing his dick so he can grab the blankets to cover himself. The phone flies out of his hand, too—or does he launch it?—landing face down on the mattress beside him. She has no idea what’s startled him until she looks down and recognizes that she’s moved into a sitting position, blankets still up to her shoulder on one side. Idiot, she reprimands herself, but now’s not the time for aggravation. Something is happening that she may never experience again and she intends to make the most of it. For both parties.
“Don’t stop,” she whispers, words hanging heavily between them in the thick atmosphere. Damian gapes, remaining frozen. “Please don’t stop.”
After a brief moment of consideration, though it’s long enough to fray her nerves, Damian slowly removes the blankets that weren’t really covering him in the first place. She lets out a sigh, biting her lip as Damian’s impressive manhood is revealed, this time lying heavily against his lower abdomen, and is he bigger now than before? Harder? He picks it up, stroking with clear apprehension. He’s probably waiting for her to whip her phone out and snap a picture and send it to as many people as possible before he tackles her, because if anybody knows her better than she knows herself, it’s him. But that couldn’t be the furthest thing from her mind at the present moment.
“Fuck,” she says, incredulous, eyes locked on the movement of Damian’s ring-covered fingers as they wrap around his cock, giving it a few pumps. His thumb glides over the head again to gather more precum and she squeezes her thighs to alleviate the pressure in her aching pussy. “I, um—” She licks her lips, and her best friend looks at her. His eyes are bottomless, and his chest is rising and falling rapidly. “I can help you with that,” she breathes.
It seems the Archer of Infamy has lost his ability to speak, and so releases his cock—the slap it makes when it lands on his abs again is nearly enough to make her cum—to extend his hand in her direction. She places her feet lightly on the hardwood hotel floor, coming out from the blanket and standing. His gaze drifts down her body from the hardening nipples under a tank top that’s ridden up to her ribs to the spandex boyshorts that really leave nothing to the imagination. He picks his cock up with his left hand this time, his strokes becoming longer and quicker, a soft moan escaping his perfect lips. Once close enough, she bends over and releases all the drool she’s accumulated from simply watching a man jerkoff, doing her best to aim the strings of saliva so they land on the head of Damian’s dick and slide over the shaft, over his fingers, and on over his balls.
“Fuck,” Damian moans, on the verge of whining, and he begins to jerk his cock in earnest.
Her eyes dance as she watches him spread her spit around his dick, using it to get off, and what starts as a smirk grows into a full on grin. She chews on her bottom lip, battling with the urge to just shove his cock down her throat because, again, she’s unsure what’s really going on here. She just knows she’s here for it. Damian’s free hand touches her, his fingers slipping inside her boyshorts so he can pull her closer. His hand glides up her body, passing her breast with a sweep of his thumb over the nipple, which causes a shudder down to her very core, and he cups her cheek. His fingers are long enough to reach the back of her neck, and he gently pulls, and she giggles as he continues applying pressure until she’s on the bed beside him. Her hand lands on his chest as their faces meet—noses grazing, mouths pressing together in something that can be described only as an almost-kiss—the exhale of one inhaled by the other. She feels his hips thrust his cock into his fist.
“Slower,” she purrs, eyes boring into his, hand gliding all along his broad chest, firm abdomen, and those fucking vees at his hips. Damian’s eyes are hooded, onyx, quite a bit intimidating, but his body begins to vibrate at a lower rate, continuing to mellow. She glances down to watch the deceleration, groaning at the pace, at his willingness to obey. Another smile graces her lips, face still hidden from Damian’s as her attention remains transfixed on the lackadaisical way he’s now massaging his cock.
She turns back, pressing her lips to his ear, his hand snaking under her to come up and around where he cups a handful of her ass. She gasps, rolling her hips against him, before instructing, “Just a little faster.” She knows his momentum by the muscles in his pec—more obedience. She breathes a laugh against his neck, and he groans, turning his head, crushing his cheek against hers. “I’m gonna make you cum so hard …” She trails off, lifting her head to look at Damian. “What’s Spanish for daddy?”
Damian’s eyes roll back and close and his body stills. She imagines his fingers are constricting around the base of his swollen cock to prevent anything from happening prematurely. “Papí,” he growls, and her jaw drops, tongue poking at the corner of her mouth. Papí is so much hotter than daddy. His eyes open to meet hers. “Call me Papí.”
Her mouth is back at his ear. “I’m gonna make you cum so hard, Papí.” His hips surge. She chuckles, nipping at his earlobe, and she swears she hears him whining again deep in his chest. “That’s what you want, isn’t it?” She cradles the other side of his face, pressing sloppy kisses to his cheek and jawline. “You had to cum so bad that you just couldn’t wait until you were alone?”
“I could’ve taken a shower,” Damian points out. “I need to go faster. With you kissin’ on me like that …”
“You could have,” she says, ignoring his demand. “But you didn’t wanna wake me up. Right? You wanted to let me sleep, but you just couldn’t stop touching that big cock …”
“Easy, querida,” he grumbles.
She giggles, knowing him well enough to know when to stop pushing his buttons. “Faster,” she whispers into his ear, thumb on his chin and inching toward his lips. He presses a kiss to the pad of her finger, and it’s her turn to thrust her hips against his. He lifts his hand from her ass only to bring it down in an echoing slap, and she squeals, body jarring, and his arm instantly comes around her waist to keep her from going anywhere. Does he think she wants to?
“You’re so fucking sexy, Papí,” she exhales along his hot skin. “A little faster.” His hand speeds up, and she reaches over to touch his bicep, reveling in each and every flex. “Every time I play with my toys, or I have my fingers in my pussy, I’m thinking about you.”
“Fuck!” Damian exclaims. His arm is like a vice around her, squeezing her hip, fisting the material of her boyshorts. He’s unable to control the thrusting of his hips now, but the pumping pace of his hand remains steady. Obedient. “I need to cum,” he confesses.
She returns her attention southward, and Damian attacks her neck this time, biting her ear, sucking the lobe. “Faster,” she breathes. His hand accelerates, and his hips are working faster, and she imagines for a moment those hips thrusting that huge cock deep inside her pussy, and she’s close to cumming too.
“Spit on it,” he rasps in her ear.
She smirks, turning back to him, her lips brushing his, and she doesn’t know why it’s so easy to spit on his dick, but she can’t bring herself to actually kiss him. Maybe because kissing makes things realer, somehow. If they don’t kiss, they’re just fooling around, friends with benefits maybe. But if they do kiss, doesn’t that mean something more? Or is she reading too much into it? And for hell’s sake, why is she concerned about this right now?
“Yeah?” she asks. “Did you like that?” Damian nods, licking his lips, and it’s like she’s dying inside. She maneuvers herself down his body, and his hand drops to the base of his cock. She spits this time as requested, truly spits, instead of drooling like before. The majority of it lands just below the head on the shaft and the two of them watch as it begins sliding down Damian’s tan skin. He switches the direction of his hand, his fingers now on the underside, and his palm covers the wad of spit so he can more easily spread it around his erection.
“Come here,” he commands, grabbing a fistful of her hair and pulling, though not nearly hard enough to cause any pain or damage, and she slithers back up his body. “I’m gonna fucking cum,” he says into her mouth.
“Do it,” she replies “Don’t worry about the mess … I’ll clean it up.” She swipes her tongue at his lips like a kitten lapping milk, and she can tell with the way his eyes darken that her meaning is understood. The entire bed is vibrating with Damian’s effort, his breath is coming in short bursts, and the expression on his face can only be described as desperate. “Please cum for me, Papí. Please?”
Hand on the back of her head, he pulls her lips to his, and they share a moan as the lust and tension and feelings between them culminate in the most intense kiss she’s ever experienced. She knows instantly she never wants to kiss another man, or touch another man. The only man she’ll ever need is right here next to her, blasting spurts of cum all over his abs and hand. Their tongues dance and their lips smack, and the ferocity gradually dissipates as Damian rides out his orgasm. She pulls away first, gazing down at the man of her dreams with a small smile on her lips.
“Do you wanna … go on a date or … something?” Damian awkwardly asks.
Her smile grows. “Absolutely. But first I have some cleaning to do.”
She winks as she slinks down his body and proceeds to lick up every drop of cum, every splatter, off his belly. Damian chuckles, hand still in her hair, though now he’s caressing her scalp and cheek, and he watches her slurp up his cum. When she finishes there, she takes his sticky hand into both of hers and she lifts it to her mouth so she can drag her tongue along each finger, the back of his hand and the palm. “God, you taste good,” she gushes.
Damian grins. “Plenty more where that came from, hermosa.”
As she moves to lay back against his side, she notices his phone face down about to fall off the bed. “What were you watching?” she asks, nodding at the device.
Damian lifts his head and looks at the phone. He laughs and … is he blushing? “I know you’re gonna make me tell you or show you and I think it’s easier to just show you.”
She accepts his permission before grabbing the phone and punching in his passcode. A YouTube video begins to play, and she’s about to launch into giggles when she realizes what the subject matter is. It’s a fan made montage of her, various clips of various moves from various matches. But they all have one thing in common: the incredibly gratuitous way in which she chooses to pin her opponents. In gear that’s barely there, she faces and straddles her opponent’s face, hooking their legs behind her arms, tongue out, and if she bends down just a little bit more, she’d have a mouthful of pussy. And there’s certainly several women on the roster she wouldn’t mind experiencing that with, but that’s neither here nor there right now. Damian had been watching her, as close to naked as possible, wrapped up in lewd positions with several of her closest, sexiest friends.
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you had a crush on me,” she says.
His hand still has her neck and he brings her lips to his, though he doesn’t allow her to kiss him. “Ever since the day I met you.”
🎀 Papí - Daddy 🎀 Querida - Dearest/Beloved, term of endearment 🎀 Hermosa - Beautiful
#wwe#wwe fanfiction#wwe imagine#wwe x reader#damian priest x reader#smut#damian priest#damian priest smut#damian priest kinklist#damian priest imagine#damian priest fanfic#damian priest fanfiction#wwe fic#wwe fandom#wwe smut
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Avergonyit - An Alexia Putellas Imagine
Not requested, just a little idea I had as I emerge from my woho brainrot and get back into woso
R moves to Barcelona and tries to learn Catalan, what happens when she hears her girlfriend Alexia teasing her about her pronunciation with the team?
I don't speak Spanish or Catalan so I apologize if anything's incorrect I did my best
It probably wasn’t the best idea, moving to Barcelona without knowing any Spanish. Y/N hadn’t planned on transferring, but when Barca Femini makes an offer, well, it’s not like Y/N could refuse. It all happened very quickly, the offer coming towards the end of the transfer window, not leaving Y/N much time to prepare. It really was only a few weeks between the offer coming in, and Y/N landing in Barcelona. She’s extremely grateful that the team got everything set up for her in Barcelona, so Y/N didn’t have to worry about trying to find an apartment or any of those things during the whirlwind of packing and moving across the globe to a place she’s never been.
Needless to say, Y/N’s Spanish was very bad, at least at first. It was a challenge, trying to find her way to the training centre, the nearest grocery store, when she’s not able to ask anyone for directions. Add on that most people speak Catalan anyway, any rudimentary Spanish Y/N could muster didn’t do much for her.
It got easier, the longer she’s here. The team speaks a mixture of Spanish and Catalan, but most speak English too, or at least enough English that Y/N can talk to them. She picks up words and phrases, mostly football terms, since that’s what she hears most often. She’s able to understand what the coaches yell at the team on the field, most of the time, and she finds the areas of the city where people speak English and she’s settles in as well as she can.
What really helps her settle in is the team. Y/N bonds with the other non-Spanish players, them being the first ones she could really speak to without needing someone to translate everything. As time goes on, Y/N finds herself gravitating towards Alexia more and more.
Alexia, as captain, took it upon herself to make sure Y/N was settling in well, and the two hang out outside of training as Alexia gives Y/N a tour of the city and takes her out to her favourite restaurants and coffee shops. The more and more they hang out, the more and more it stops feeling like a captain trying to help a new teammate settle in. Y/N isn’t really sure what to make of it, she knows the ways she’s starting to feel about Alexia, but she’s not sure about Alexia’s feelings.
Things really shift after a tough game, a hard fought win, when the team, despite all being exhausted and sore, decide to go out to a club after. Y/N’s having fun, laughing and dancing with her teammates, and she takes a quick break from the dancefloor to get a drink from the bar. She’s sipping her drink, watching her teammates, when a body slides up next to her.
“Hola carinyet,” Alexia says. Y/N smiles as she turns to Alexia. She’s asked before what the nickname means, but Alexia just smiled and told her not to worry about it.
“Hola Ale,” Y/N says.
“Very good,” Alexia says, “Soon you will be speaking Catalan better than me.”
“I just said hello,” Y/N says. She notices suddenly that both her and Alexia have been leaning towards each other and now Y/N can clearly smell the scent of Alexia’s perfume. Y/N’s distracted by it that she misses what Alexia says next. She zones back in as Alexia laughs and places her hand on Y/N’s arm.
“Do you want to get some air?” Alexia asks. Y/N nods. She quickly downs the rest of her drink and follows Alexia outside.
The air is cool, much cooler than it was inside and Y/N shivers involuntarily. Alexia leans casually on the wall, watching Y/N with a look of amusement.
“What?” Y/N asks.
“Nothing, ets bonica.”
“I don’t know what that means,” Y/N says.
“Vull fer-te un petó,” Alexia says in response.
“Ale…” Y/N whines, “Stop bullying me, you know I don’t know what that means.”
“It means,” Alexia takes Y/N’s hand and tugs her closer, “I want to kiss you. Is that okay, carinyet?”
“Oh.” Y/N breathes, surprised. Alexia doesn’t falter, stays where she is, the same easy confident look on her face as Y/N processes her words. “Yeah. Yeah. You can.”
“Bona.”
After that kiss, and the next morning where Y/N woke up with a hangover in Alexia’s bed, they’ve been inseparable. They’ve been dating ever since and Y/N couldn’t be happier. Alexia makes her feel so happy and content and loved. They’ve had a few bumps along the way, but nothing very serious and nothing that isn’t fixed easily.
“Hola lovebirds,” Mapi says as she and Ingrid walk into the locker room. Alexia rolls her eyes and Y/N sticks her tongue out.
“She’s in some kind of mood today,” Ingrid says as she sets her things down in her locker.
“Don’t act like you don’t love it amor,” Mapi says.
Y/N smiles as she listens to her teammates. She really loves it here and she loves listening to her teammates tease Mapi and Ingrid for being grossly adorable. That, and whenever they tease Mapi they don’t tease Y/N and Alexia.
“Ale?” Y/N says while the team is semi distracted, “What do you want to do, uh, després de la pràctica?”
Since they started dating, Y/N has been trying to learn Catalan. It’s a slow process, but she has managed to pick up a lot of words and phrases and ‘after practice’ is one of them. Y/N speaks Catalan more at home when it’s just her and Alexia, mostly because she’s still not confident in her skills. She’s trying to speak it more with the others, but she still can’t do more than basic sentences.
Before Alexia can answer, Mapi snorts.
“‘Després de la pràctica’” Mapi says, “A pronunciació no és important per a tu, Ale?”
“Està massa ocupada amb altres coses,” Patri says, wagging her eyebrows.
“What are they saying?” Y/N asks Alexia. Alexia hesitates in answering.
“Hey Y/N,” Mapi says, “Can you tell me what this says?” Mapi turns her phone to Y/N, a word, embarbussament, written in her notes app. It’s not a word Y/N has seen before, and not one Alexia has taught her, but she tries. As she stumbles her way through, the snickers around the room get louder.
“Are you sure you’ve been teaching her Catalan?” Patri says. “She’s worse than CGH.”
“What are you talking about?” Y/N says. Y/N tries to grab Alexia’s arm, but she doesn’t pay attention as she heads over to where Patri and Mapi are sitting and continues joking with them about Y/N’s pronunciation.
Y/N can feel the embarrassment building. The more the laughter builds, the more Y/N feels like crying. She’s been trying her hardest and Alexia has been, until now, so patient with her. Alexia has always praised Y/N for her Catalan, gently correcting her when needed, but always telling her how proud she is that she’s trying. But now, listening to Alexia laugh at her, Y/N wonders if Alexia really is proud of her, or if she just says that to Y/N’s face, and then makes fun of her behind her back. Along with the embarrassment and humiliation she feels, Y/N also feels betrayed. Alexia knows how nervous she is to speak Catalan in front of the team, terrified of making a mistake. Y/N always thought she would Alexia in her corner, no matter what, but now Y/N realizes that was never true.
***
Y/N stops speaking Catalan after that.
She still wants to learn, but after what happened, she can’t bring herself to try again. Alexia keeps asking if she wants to practice her Catalan, but Y/N says no every time. She’s not going to give Alexia anything else to make fun of her about. Y/N starts to distance herself from Alexia. It’s not intentional and not what she wants, but whenever they’re together, Y/N can’t help but remember how she felt hearing Alexia laugh at her.
“Do you want to go out for dinner tonight?” Alexia asks. Y/N shakes her head.
“I’m pretty tired, think I’ll just stay home.”
“I don’t mind staying in,” Alexia says, “We can order something or I can cook something for you, carinyet.”
“If you want to go out, then you should go out. I’m sure you can find someone who wants to grab dinner with you. I’ll be fine.”
“Y/N…”
“Just drop it Alexia,” Y/N says, “Go have fun with your friends, I don’t care.”
Alexia doesn’t go out, she orders food for them both and they eat in silence. Alexia tries to make conversation, but Y/N stays quiet. After they finish eating and cleaning up, Alexia grabs Y/N before she can go sit by herself.
“What is going on? What’s wrong?” Alexia asks. Y/N shakes her head. “Don’t lie to me. I know something is wrong, tell me what’s bothering you.”
“Why?” Y/N mumbles, “So you can go laugh about it with Mapi and Patri later?”
“What?” Alexia says, “What are you talking about? What do they have to do with anything?”
“You were making fun of me!” Y/N says, feeling tears spring to her eyes, “The three of you, you kept making fun of me.”
“When? What are you talking about?”
“You were being mean about how I speak Catalan. You were being mean. I felt so embarrassed,” Y/N can’t stop the tears falling. “I’m trying my best and I know I’m not good and I know I screw up but it’s not like I grew up speaking it like you! You know how nervous I am to speak it and you were mean to me about it.”
“Bebita, we were just teasing. We weren’t trying to be mean.”
“It wasn’t funny!” Y/N takes a shaky breath. “You embarrassed me, Alexia. In front of the whole team. I felt so stupid. I feel so stupid. You keep saying all these things about how proud you are of me and how well I’m doing and then you let everyone make fun of me and you join in yourself!”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were upset,” Alexia says, “I am proud of you and I am impressed by you learning Catalan and I didn’t mean those things I said. I’m sorry I embarrassed you. I didn’t mean to. I love hearing you speak Catalan, mistakes and all, because it shows how dedicated you are. I love getting to share my language and my city and my culture with you. I’m so, so sorry that I ever made you feel like I wasn’t proud of you, or that you are not the most wonderful, and amazing, and caring person I know.”
“It didn’t feel good,” Y/N says, “It made me feel like crap. My girlfriend being so mean to me to her friends, it doesn’t feel good, Ale.”
“I’m sorry,” The longer the conversation goes on, the more distressed Alexia looks. “Please, por favor, what can I do? What can I do to fix this?”
Y/N shrugs. She doesn’t know.
“I promise that I will never make you feel like that again. Every minute of every day I will tell you how amazing you are, and I will never make you feel like you’re not the most incredible person. Te amo, carinyet, t'estimo tant.”
“I really want to believe you,” Y/N says, “I want to move on from this whole thing and forget about it, but I can’t.”
“I’m so sorry, I feel terrible. I hate that I hurt you. I mean it when I say I’ll do anything to make it up to you. I promise I will.”
“I know Ale.”
Y/N finally allows herself to fall into Alexia’s arms, lets her wipe away her tears. She lets Alexia hold her and comfort her and whisper apologies and comforting words in her ear. Y/N doesn’t know how they’ll fix this, but she does know that Alexia will never stop trying to make it right.
#alexia putellas#alexia putellas x reader#alexia putellas imagine#woso imagines#woso#barca femeni#espwnt
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A Comprehensive Guide to Writing Gina Dialogue!!!
Do YOU like writing tgaa fics, but find yourself struggling to understand the speech habits of Gina Lestrade? Well, fortunately for you, I love linguistics and accents almost as much as I love Gina - so I've compiled a breakdown of every quirk in her speech!
(Full analysis under the break!)
Most of Gina's speech patterns can be broken down by three fundamental facts:
She speaks with a thick Cockney accent
She's uneducated, which leads to various grammar troubles
She uses a lot of informal cockney terms/slang
Let's get into it section-by-section!
(Note: Formatting looks a lot better on mobile!)
Section 1: Cockney Accent
So I’m an theater kid, and I've done dialect training for Cockney accents before - it's one of my best ones imo - so that certainly helped me write this section! Even without that, though, it's pretty easy to identify how her accent appears in her speech. Let's break it down!
Drop h's
Example: Here becomes 'ere
Drop g’s at the end of words
Example: Going becomes goin'
A few other word ends that get dropped:
Of becomes o'
And becomes an'
Th changes depending on the word - Thank you to annoyingloudmicrowavecultist for properly explaining how this works in the tags!
Voiced th becomes v
Example: With becomes wiv
Unvoiced th becomes f
Example: Nothing becomes nuffin'
For writing purposes, if a word would become unrecognizable with this change, it's left the same (but in actual speech, it would be pronounced differently)
Example: Father remains as father (but would be pronounced like fovva)
Th always remains intact at the start of words
Example: Thing remains as thing (but would be pronounced like fing)
Miscellaneous word changes
Something becomes summat (but other times is just somefin' - she's not consistent with either)
What becomes wot, whatever becomes wotever
Tomorrow becomes tomorra
Because is often shortened to 'cause, which becomes cos
Isn't almost always becomes ain't
Thank you / no thank you becomes ta / no ta
Some words spill together or are slurred
With that becomes wivvat, with it becomes wivvit (This one isn't actually used in-game, so you don't have to use it either, but it reflects how she'd actually be pronouncing it)
Isn't it becomes innit
Doesn't it becomes dunnit
Suppose becomes s'pose
Don't know becomes dunno
Probably becomes prob'ly
You might change - Another loose/inconsistent rule. Can depend on how the sentence would be pronounced out loud, but mostly is just a vibe
You becomes ya
Your/you're becomes yer
Yourself becomes yerself
Section 2: Grammatical Errors
Gina is an uneducated East End orphan, so it should come as no surprise that she makes mistakes here and there. Here are her consistent ones! Some of these are confusing/hard to explain, so I included specific examples.
Will say me instead of my, and meself instead of myself
Example: "I dunno much about guns meself."
Incorrect tense usage of was/were in negatives - Instead of I/it wasn’t, she’ll say I/it weren’t
Example: "I was up in a balloon, weren't I?"
Incorrect tense usage of does/do in negatives - Instead of he doesn’t, she’ll say he don’t
Example: "Somefin' wot 'e don't want people readin'."
Double negatives
Ever becomes never in negative statements
Example: "I swear on my life, I ain't never laid eyes on that dandy before."
Never + anything becomes never + nothing
Example: "I never done nuffin' o' the sort!"
Never + anyone becomes never + no one
Example: "All me life, growin' up in the slums, I've never trusted no one."
Haven't you ever becomes ain't you never
Example: "Ain't you lot never gone over an 'ouse lookin' for dough when the owners are out o' town?"
The word that or who in the context of ascribing a feature to a subject is replaced by the word what
Example: "She's always goin' on about all them cases wot Sholmes is lookin' into."
Other example: "I think I wouldn't fancy me chances wiv a lawyer wot lives in a place like this."
Will say them instead of those
"All them skylights open, dead easy."
Will say no more instead of anymore
"Ya dropped it, so it ain't yours no more."
She’ll sometimes mess up bigger, unfamiliar words. This one's entirely in your discretion what words she might mess up. Some canon examples:
“Supperment” instead of supplement
“Mantlescript” instead of manuscript
On a similar note, she'll sometimes confidently get sayings wrong and think she sounds smart
“Toby's...'ow did they put it...? ...Oh, yeah! A 'bone-fide' detective!”
Section 3: Cockney Terms/Slang
In addition to her thick dialect, growing up in the East End means Gina has also adopted a plethora of unique words and phrases. This'll be more like a vocab section!
Cockney rhyming slang - Some words are replaced with phrases that rhyme with them. She uses a few in canon:
Instead of believe, she’ll say Adam an’ Eve
“Would you Adam an' Eve it, eh?! Wot a mug!”
Instead of face, she’ll say chevy chase
“Yeah, I can see it written all over yer chevy chase!”
Interjections/Exclamations
Blimey - Express surprise or shock
"Blimey, yer right! That streak o' light in the photo looks just like an arrow, dunnit?"
Cor - A general interjection, kind of a euphemism for god
"Cor, listen to you! Ya stumble across a bit o' balloon an' suddenly yer the best investigator in the world!"
Oi - I doubt I need to define this one, but it's basically the equivalent of "hey"
"Oi! That's off limits up there!"
Words for people
Cove, bloke - A boy or man. Gina tends to use cove more often than bloke.
"That's where the cove ended up after 'is 'instant kinesis' or wotever they call it."
"When I lifted the last bloke's purse, 'e got wise to me."
Dandy - A conceited, fashionable upperclass man. Can be used as a noun or adjective.
In reference to Ashley Graydon: "I swear on my life, I ain't never laid eyes on that dandy before."
Dee - Thank you to uzukirie for figuring this out in the replies of this post - dee is short for detective!
To Sholmes: "I don't need no 'elp from some stuck-up dee!"
About Gregson: "Yeah, the dee let me keep it. After I looked daggers at 'im for long enough."
Swell - A wealthy or elegant person. In canon, Gina uses this exclusively in reference to McGilded.
"It's because o' that, this swell found me. …'E did 'elp me get away, mind."
Miscellaneous vocab
Dodgy - Suspicious
"It was amazin' when you showed that dodgy professor's dodgy experiment was a total fix!"
Rum - Odd or strange
"I mean, wot's the point of spendin' a joey to make a few bob, eh? That's a rum idea, innit?"
Coppers - Cops
"If you do wot the grown-ups tell ya, it'll get yer mates dragged off by the coppers. Or worse."
Scarper - Flee/run away/leave in a hurry. Also comes from rhyming slang - Scarper = Scapa Flow = Go
"If I did that, 'e said 'e'd let me scarper before the coppers showed up."
Have a butcher's - Take a look. Also comes from rhyming slang - "butcher's hook" = look
"Most days I push the cushion up wiv me 'ead an' look out the crack. Then I can 'ave a butcher's at who I'm gonna fiddle."
Rude words/phrases :)
Gordon Bennett - Expresses surprise or contempt - kind of a euphemism for goddammit.
"Gordon Bennett! You lot!"
Flamin', bleedin', - General emphasis. Pretty much just gentler ways of saying fucking.
Note!! You might be tempted to make Gina say "bloody", since that's well-known British slang, but she never says that. She says bleedin' in its place.
"Don't be so flamin' rude, 'Oddo!"
"It's lies every bleedin' place ya look in this world, innit?"
Bleedin’ Nora - A variation of "Bloody Norah", a surprised/irritated interjection.
"Wot the bleedin' Nora, 'Oddo?! Wot 'ave you gone an' done?!"
Bogtrotter - A derogatory term for an Irish person. She uses this to refer to McGilded.
"Look at the mess it's got you into, believin' in that bogtrotter!"
Mug - An idiot.
"You can't do it from inside, you mug."
Blue blazes - An alliterative exaggeration of "blazes". A euphemism for hell.
"Where the blue blazes 'ave you been, eh?"
Cobblers - Rubbish/nonsense. Literally, it means testicles - derived from Cockney rhyming slang, where "cobbler's awls" = balls.
"All this nonsense about the boss plannin' to kill people… It's cobblers!"
And 1.2k words later, that's pretty much it! Now you can write Gina dialogue spot on <3
Feel free to suggest anything I'm missing/got wrong - I come back and edit this for accuracy's sake every time I notice something I left out, or when people in the replies/tags point things out!
#tgaa#dgs#ace attorney#the great ace attorney#gina lestrade#dai gyakuten saiban#gaac#tgaac#the great ace attorney chronicles
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Can I request a Tyler ( or Aiden but please Tyler) x reader fic? Reader has lived in the phantom realm for almost her entire life and because of that she is always sleepy and hungry since she doesn't get transported back like the others. But she is a great fighter. Fem or gn reader please and could you please write a scenario too? Thanks you and a you can ignore this if you like ❤
warnings: bad grammar, swearing, mentions of reader not eating, reader has some form of insomnia(??) gender neutral reader
A/N: I tried to make sure that this is gender neutral but if I made any mistakes then please correct me! Also I’m new to the fandom so if I got anything incorrect then again, don’t be afraid to correct me.
I hope I wrote everything the way you wanted and that you will request again some time<3
Tyler & Aiden (seperate) x gn!reader
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You’ve been stuck in this place for a while, ever since you were about 13. One day you were playing outisde in the yard, when you saw this strange creature. You being a naive child went towards it and tried talking to it. You weren’t really the type of child to be scared of everything and you thought it was just your imagination. When you when to confront it, you collapsed. After that you woke up in this strange place, an exact copy of the real world yet the sky was red and strange creatures started to appear everywhere. Your big brother would get into fights often, so he taught you some self defense so you managed to survive, quickly seeking shelter. At your age many kids would panic and probably wouldn’t survive, but you pulled through. Ever since then you kinda were afraid to sleep, scared that the creatures would somehow manage to get to you and hurt you. Same with food, you rarely went out to get food, only living off what people left in their houses, well at least the houses that weren’t infested with phantoms.
You and your parents would go out into the wilderness often, so you had necessary survival skills and had enough supplies for the first few weeks of being there. You learned to survive the phantom attacks and you have a pretty well built shelter. In the present time you met a group of people your age. You almost collapsed from how happy you were to finally have human interaction after so many dreadful years of being in this horrific place. They accepted you into the group, some being a bit skeptical at first but changed their mind once you told them your story.
You were a more skilled person in the group, taking the role as leader with a girl named Ashlyn. You moved your things from your shelter that wasn’t that far from the “graveyard” as they liked to call it. After a few hours you were done taking your things there and saw they weren’t there anymore. Your eyes widen and you start to panic; “Did they leave me?” “Was I just imagining it?” “Did they get hurt by the phantoms?” You run into one of the buses and see a note on one of the seats. It explained that they have a different experience in this realm. They go to this realm at midnight for 7 hours, then wake up in the human realm. You couldn’t help but envy them but you were glad nothing happened to them and that you weren’t imagining it.
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Tyler Hernández
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
To say that Tyler would literally turn into your second mother that would be an understatement.
He would constantly bring you food when he could and when he was in the living world he would make you some food before he went to school so you don’t starve while they are away. (things that are moved to a certian place in the living world appear in the “phantom realm”
You two would definitely start dating after some time but you would be the one making the first move lol
He would have some trust issues but once he warms up to you he’s cool
Taylor would definitely be happy that her twin brother is finally happy with someone (even if he can’t see them whenever he wants)
He would cuddle you in the bus and protect you with his life fr
He would be super caring and would scold you if you wouldn’t eat for a long period of time, the same with sleeping.
When you eat and get a normal amount of sleep you have a LOT of energy. Like it’s as if you drank 10 cups of coffee in on go!
definitely praises you!!
He would be jealous if you taught anyone other than him so give him some love right after!!
Admires you for sure like he’s looking at you with heart eyes and is the most love sick guy you will ever meet lmao even if he doesn’t look like it
Overall I believe he isn’t the MOST caring in the group but definitely one of the most caring :3
Everyone quickly started noticing your sluggish movements and the constant rumbling of your stomach. You always had dark eye bags under your eyes and you were exhausted all of the time. Tyler was the first one to notice and comment on it. You tried saying you were fine but he just didn’t buy it. “Come on I can tell you’re exhausted and clearly hungry, come we should have at least an apple for you to eat.” He says and drags you to the bus where they would keep these types of necessities. He mumbled some swears you couldn’t quite understand since it was in Spanish. He handed you the apple and rolled his eyes, acting like he doesn’t care. “After you eat that go and rest, I don’t want you to collapse tomorrow..” He says, looking away from you and sits down on one of the seats in the bus.
You nod and raise a brow at his strange behavior. He never really acted kind or caring towards anyone except his sister, but you didn’t mind the special treatment. You lay down on the seat, curling into a ball and close your eyes, falling asleep in almost an instant. It was a while since you’ve slept for a healthy amount of time. You usually wouldn’t sleep or only had a few minutes of sleep since the phantom noises kept you awake constantly.
You slept for quite a long time, even past the time the group would appear and wake up in the real world. The moment it hit midnight Tyler quickly checked up on you, hoping you wouldn’t be mad that he wasn’t there when you woke up, but when he went to look towards the seat you slept on you were still there, asleep. He was taken aback by this since you slept for literally the whole day! He shook you awake, wanting to make sure you didn’t die or something in your sleep. You woke up, grumbling as you glared at the person who woke you only to see Tyler with a concerned expression. “What?” “What do you mean what!? You slept for like 30 hours!” He says and looks at you as if you were some kind of psycho. “Oh I did?” You ask, stretching your aching body and sit up. “Jeez Y/N when was the last time you’ve slept? And I mean properly.” You chuckle at his reaction and explain how you’ve had trouble sleeping, since you heard the phantoms like Ashlyn, just not so intensely. You explain your situation a bit more to him, not wanting to just leave him without an explanation on why you were the way you were.
You explain and Tyler looks at you with a sympathetic but quickly rolls his eyes and flicks your forehead; “Whatever nerd, come it’s time for you to teach us fighting or whatever..” He rolls his eyes and exits the bus. You usually teach the group how to fight when they can’t practice with Ashlyns parents since.. her parents can’t go into the realm with them. Tyler was sitting on the side while you were teaching Aiden and he yelled “Yea babe beat his ass!” He whistles and claps, having a proud look on his face. He definitely admires your skill but is like “pfft of course she’s strong she’s MY girlfriend” but in private he praises the living hell put of you. He grabs you by the hand and pulls you away from the group who is now resting and catching their breath. He pulls you closer to him and cups your cheek; “You did great princesa I’m so proud of you.” He says and kisses you on the forehead. “Oh well what kind of teacher would I be if I wasn’t any good?” You tease and wrap your arms around his neck. “Stop flirting I can hear you both!” Ashly yells and you both pull away quickly and look at each other, bursting into fits of laughter.
Aiden Clark
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
He is a TEASE but like tbh he oblivious asf like bro doesn’t even notice for a good few months even after you start dating
He is really concerned once he finds out tho but still he doesn’t take it THAT seriously but still cares!!
He fr is terrified of you when you have energy tho cuz likeee your really strong
Aiden had seen you fr collapse somewhere from exhaustion and get back up like a few seconds later, beating the phantoms like it was nothing
He is super sad that he can’t see you in the normal world and tries to spend as much time with you as possible
Teases you if your stomach grumbles lmfao he finds that shit hilarious (runs away 2 seconds after he teases you)
Definitely brings you food, even if it’s not the most healthy but if you have a particular food you like expect to get it like at least twice a week
Overall is pretty chill but still caring<3
Aiden didn’t really notice at first, his mind wandering else where like usual or would tease and flirt with you. He only started noticing when you started dozing off in the most inconvenient places like when you were on a mission with the group and they just found you collapsed on the floor, only waking when you heard a phantom and kicked its ass! He was amazed but a little bit concerned but didn’t really show it, teasing you without an end. Once you got back to the graveyard he pulled you away from the rest of the group, finding Ashlyns rambling anout the next plan boring. He leads you to one of the buses and sits down, his back against the window and lays you down on top of him, your head resting on his chest. “What are you—” He silences you with a quick kiss on the lips and smiles, his usual manic like smile no where to be seen, only a genuine soft smile. “Rest, you need it. I can’t promise I will be here when you wake up but just rest, ‘kay? You’re safe.” He hugs you closer and your heart skips a beat. You smile and make yourself comfortable, falling asleep in the blink of an eye.
Aiden layed there with you, rubbing your back and playing with your hair. He grew bored after a while, typical Aiden but he let his mind wander, keeping himself occupied by thinking of random things and unconsciously braiding pieces of your hair. He only snapped out of it when he heard a quite loud rumbling. He lifted his arms off you and looked down at you with wide eyes, his manic like smile reappearing. He chuckled, he would definitely tease you about that later.
After a while he awoke in the real world, he texted the rest of the group in the group chat and smiled mischievously. Once midnight hit, you were awoken by noises coming from outside the bus. You quickly sat up, but calm down once you see a smiling Aiden looking down at you. You sigh, relieved it wasn’t phantoms when the door to the bus suddenly opened. You stood up and saw the group holding different kids of food you haven’t eaten in years! You look at the food like a kid seeing a toy they want and look at Aiden who smiled at you. “Surprise.” He says and the rest of the group places the food down on the floor, everyone sitting down and dig in. You sit down and eat a good amount of food yourself, eating to your hearts content. Everyone watches in awe at how much you ate but they were happy, especially Aiden that they could do this for you.
After everyone finished eating you helped cleaning up, Aiden approaching you and hugging you from behind; “Enjoyed the food, love?” He says and kisses your jaw, then cheek. “Yeah, a lot. How did you come up with this?” He smirks and rests his chin on your shouler; “Oh, I heard a little noise~” He puts one arm on your stomach and chuckles; “And I thought you would be thrilled with this surprise!” Your face turns red and you turn around and smack his head, grumbling and storming away.
#aiden sbg x reader#tyler sbg x reader#aiden sbg#tyler sbg#tyler hernandez#aiden clark#aiden clark x reader#tyler hernandez x reader#sbg x reader#school bus graveyard x reader#school bus graveyard#sbg webtoon#sbg (webtoon)#sbg#sbg tyler
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Ashamed
Pairing : Charles Leclerc x reader
Theme : Angst, fluff
Word count : 6.7k
You had been feeling under the weather these past few days and had to reject Charles’ offer to go out, let it be for any parties or events without knowing he was secretly feeling disconsolate from the act, oblivious to it, until you saw pictures of him with a girl the next day. Was this his act of defiance of you?
Warnings ; the personalities were heavily inflicted from the reader’s ‘sickness’, cursings, incorrect medication term, incorrect medical terminology
Charles put away his phone and strode, leaving the room as he heard the sound of a pin number being typed in and the lock gave away the soft ring, indicating the door was unlocked. He didn’t need to wait for the ring. He had been waiting for his girlfriend to come back. His gut feeling was saying that something was wrong when you texted him earlier that you weren’t feeling very well. He didn’t get to pick you up from the office because he had other things scheduled to do, and you, being the most understanding girl he had ever met, assured him that it was all fine because your girl friend, Lia would be picking you up.
"Hey, are you alright?" That was the only thing that came out of his mouth, despite knowing what the answer was from your pale face.
You only managed to shake your head before crashing your body into his embrace, soaking in every inch of comfort he could give. He wasn’t home for two days, having to be in Maranello for work stuff, so you were on your own, living life until your body felt different when you woke up this morning. The thermometer didn’t indicate any fever, so you thought it would get better in a few hours.
But it didn’t. You had to lay your head down on the table, your eyes squeezed shut, hoping the headache would calm down after taking the pill, but it wasn’t working. Those hours being at the office felt like a torture; you couldn’t wait to go home, wrapped yourself up in a cosy blanket, to see your favourite face knowing he would be back in a few hours.
You were actually surprised to see him, as he was supposed to be back by midnight, but you had no energy left to convey the emotions.
"Baby?" Charles called out again after getting no replies.
"My head feels so heavy." You mumbled, feeling like you could fall asleep standing up while listening to the thump of his heartbeat against your ear with both of his arms wrapped around your body.
"Have you eaten? Do you want to eat something?" He asked again, this time with his eyes on yours as he broke the hug.
"No. I just want to lay down.."
"Okay." Seeing as if you could lose consciousness any second, he quickly took your stuff from your hands, placing it on the couch before picking you up and going straight to the bedroom where his phone was left, still on and replaying the same video that he was watching earlier over and over. "Y/N, I’m going to help you take off your makeup first, alright?" He stopped you from lying down on the bed and made a quick run to get your makeup remover from the dressing table. He had seen you do it before, and he had also helped you take off your makeup whenever you got drunk from your girls’ night out. It was no difference this time.
"Baby, stay with me. I promise I’ll be quick." He assured you, one hand on your cheek to stop your head from dipping down, and quickly, yet gently, moved the makeup remover wipes across your face. He saw your flushed cheeks and pale lips when he removed all sorts of colour from the makeup, which made him even more worried. "Stay awake, baby. I’ll get your change of clothes." He left the wardrobe room after leaving a kiss on your hairline. Your body was warm.
"Thank you." You muttered as he helped you lay down after changing into pyjamas, which finally felt like you could properly breathe.
"Are you sure you don’t want to eat anything? I could try and cook something simple." He had eaten his dinner with Joris before making his way home earlier, but if you said you were hungry, he would get something done right this second, but you kept telling him no, assuring him that you only wanted him to stay with you until you fell asleep. So be obeyed.
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"Y/N? Where—what are you doing?" Your feet stopped moving further away, your hand still on the knob. You thought that when you fell asleep earlier, you would have woken up feeling better. You did feel better, but your stomach didn’t. You were famished. You didn’t realise you didn’t eat anything yesterday. Charles was sleeping peacefully, facing you with his hand on your waist, and you didn’t have the heart to wake him up, knowing he needed the rest as much as you did.
Your plan to get something to eat without waking him up failed even before you got to step outside the room. "I’ll be right back. Go back to sleep, honey." You gave a smile, though he wouldn’t be able to see it in the dark, before taking another step, but he stopped you again.
"Baby, where are you going? Do you need anything?"
"I’m going to get something to eat." You mumbled, and he frowned. His one leg was already off the bed.
"What?"
"I’m hungry.." The grip on the door knob went loose as you played with your fingers and eyes away when he started approaching you.
"Why didn’t you wake me up, love?"
"I don’t want to trouble you. Go back to sleep, honey. I’ll be quiet." You pushed his middle, convincing him, but he stood there and didn’t budge an inch.
"Then let’s get you something to eat." Your hand in his middle was grabbed as he left a peck on your palm before pushing you to walk ahead of him.
"What do you want to eat?" He asked, peeking behind your hand as you checked through the rows of chocolates in the fridge. "Chocolates?"
"I need something savoury." You mumbled, and he trailed behind as you moved to the drawers. "Ah, this!"
Charles’ frowned when you picked out a pick-coloured instant noodle out of the drawer that was fully stacked with your favourite food, one that was too spicy for him.
"At this hour?!"
"Yes!" You squealed, controlling your excitement that was gone as soon as you looked at him.
"Baby, I don’t think you should eat that right now." He pressed his lips, looking away from seeing your eyes. When he touched you earlier, your body was still warm, but it wasn’t as bad as it was hours ago. Judging from your face, it seemed to him that your headache was gone too, without having to ask you how you felt.
"Please! Just for tonight!" You pleaded.
"Alright, fine. But no more instant food for this week." His yawn that he had been holding in slipped through at the end of his sentence.
"Go back to sleep, honey. You're going to fall asleep standing at this point. I can cook these noodles myself." You patted the cheeks, chuckling. You felt bad for waking him up, but he kept on turning a deaf ear to your words.
"It’s okay. I’m keeping you accompanied." He moved closer, making you face the boiling water on the induction, so he could hug you from behind with his head resting on your shoulder. "If I fall asleep, you can keep me standing straight."
"Do you want some?" You poured in the powder that came along with the noodles after you drained the water.
"I’m okay, baby. Thank you for asking." He buried his face on the side of your neck, which made you giggle as the hot breath tickled on your skin. "Oh, but I do want the seaweed. Do you still have it?"
"Yeah! It’s up there, I think."
"I’ll wait for you on the couch." He leaned in to kiss your cheek while ambling in front of the television, with the seaweed snack in hand.
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"Charles! Have you broken up with the girl?" Louis came, hand slapping on the driver’s shoulder as he took a seat by his side. He had been seeing Charles on his own for the past two events.
"What? No! Never, dude. She’s not feeling well." Charles let out a chuckle at the idea. He had been with you his whole life. There was no way he could ever let you go.
"What’s the point of having a girl when she can’t keep you company?" Louis replied, which sounded like a sneer to the driver. "Right? Isn’t it her job to attend the events with you?"
"No." Charles laughed and tried to shrug off the topic that gradually turned heavy. "She has her own job, Louis. I don’t choose her to be my partner just for a plus one, you know. And I don’t really mind it. Events lasted only for 2–3 hours; I spent the rest of the remaining hours with her."
Louis remained quiet. He never liked you because it felt like his friend right here wasn’t able to do what he actually wanted, just because Charles was too head over heels for you.
You had been with Charles even before his lifestyle became more lavish. Charles always asked for your permission before he did anything, though you always told him it wasn’t necessary.
"Just because I earn more than you, just because you feel yourself lower than me, doesn’t mean I should ignore your rights and title as my girlfriend."
Is what he has been saying all this time. You were grateful for him, of course, but you couldn’t ignore the scowl from his friend, Louis, at times.
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Your sickness came and went. Sometimes you wake up feeling horrible, but it went away in a few hours. Sometimes it lasted for the whole day. One thing was for sure; you have been feeling drained these days. You had no problem coming home from work to do extra housechores before, but these days, you could barely lift a finger. Even sitting at the office felt like you had depleted all of your energy.
"Y/N." Charles called out, still in the same outfit he wore when he left this morning.
"Yeah..?" You slowly rubbed on your eyes, pushing your hand against the bedsheet to muster up all the strength to sit up.
"Y/N, you promised me you would clean the kitchen. Why can’t you at least clear out the used pots and plates?" You heard him sighed.
"I’m sorry. I was so tired." You mumbled, like a kid who just got told off by the mother.
"It’s not like you have to go to work! It’s the weekend." Charles’ voice went a little higher, clearly frustrated. "You were doing fine this morning."
"I know. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m so sorry." You inched closer to where he was sitting on the bed and grasped his arm. "I’ll get it done right away. Please don’t be mad."
"I’m not mad. I’m just—" He took a breath and drew your head closer to his chest. "I’m so sorry for shouting at you."
"It’s alright. I’ll get it done right now." You get off the bed, still in your blue checkered pyjamas. Your limbs were still sore, though you had been doing nothing other than laying down for the whole day.
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Week passed, Charles had another event tonight, and you promised to attend the event with him this time, considering the fact he had been left to go alone for the past 2 weeks and people started assuming he was single. No, you weren’t going because you wanted to claim he was still yours, but it had been a while since the last time you dressed up, looking pretty in a dress with your hair all curled and styled. You barely wore any makeup to the office now, ever since you hadn’t been feeling well.
The nausea came and hit again as you were going through the rows of clothes. Your feet were fast enough to drag your aching limb to the toilet. Charles headed out to pick up his suit earlier, and he was looking excited when you told him you would be coming with him.
But it seemed like you had to break the promise again. You were so sleepy, your headache came back again. Standing up was so agonising that you were left sitting on the bathroom’s floor for the longest time ever before pushing yourself to lay down on the bed.
"Y/N, you should get ready. We shouldn’t be late." Charles muttered, a little pissed off at the fact that you chose to go to sleep instead of getting ready.
Y/N," Charles called out, more stern this time.
"Charles, I don’t think I can go tonight."
"There you go again. What the fuck is your problem, Y/N? I swear to God, it felt like you were doing this on purpose." The phone in his hand was slammed on the bed, making you flinch. "Do you have any problems that you don’t want to tell me? Is this all an act?"
"What—what do you mean? I’m really not feeling well. My whole body aches." Your brows knitted together, and the drowsiness was gone a little from being accused of such nonsense by your own boyfriend. The boyfriend who had been with you for more than 5 years
"Yeah, right. It’s just the same fucking thing. You woke up feeling all fine, making these promises here and there, and then all of a sudden, oh, I’m sick. Bullshit." You caught him scowling at you as he took his stuff and slammed the bedroom door on his way out.
You wanted to argue with him; you wanted to defend yourself, telling him he was wrong, but you were so sleepy, and it didn’t take long enough for you to fall back to your dreamland, forgetting those hurtful comments thrown at you for a little while.
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"What is it this time? Your sick girlfriend finally died?" Louis came, laughing after seeing his friend, still alone but this time with no smile on his face.
Charles didn’t say anything. He knew Louis wasn’t really fond of his girlfriend despite years of being together, but he had too much on his mind right now to say anything.
"She’s still sick? What kind of sickness does she have?" Louise laughed in a mocking way.
The driver remained quiet.
"You really came just to show that sullen face around here?" Louis squeezed Charles’ shoulder a little harder as he looked around. "I can introduce you to someone. She came alone."
"Eryn!"
Charles looked up, looking at the area where his friend was focusing.
"This is Eryn. Eryn, Charles. Pretty sure you know who he is." Louise winked at her, and she grinned, knowing very well what that look meant. "He came alone, so he needed someone to talk with. You can be his companion." Eryn took over Louise’s spot as he left with a smirk on his face.
Charles remained quiet, not replying to any of the woman’s questions. He wasn’t actually there. His head was replaying every word he said earlier, rewinding the scene just to take a good look at your pale face, and every time his head put the clip back to rewind, his heart was slowly wrapped in penitence.
Why did you do that to her, Charles?
His skin felt cold when he felt the woman’s lips land on his cheek, which made him jump right away. "What the fuck?"
"You seemed to be so far away, so I’m trying to pull you back on your senses."I’m sorry!" She whined, her hand trying to grab his, but he moved away, his face looking completely vexed.
"Don’t touch me. I have a girlfriend." He stood up, teeth clenched from trying to hold his anger.
"She’s not here!" Eryn held on to his arm, trying to stop him from walking away. "You should try to have some fun!"
"Have fun with someone else. I’m going home."
"Louise told me you needed someone!" Eryn pulled Charles back onto his seat, clutching on to his arm so he wouldn’t leave and humiliate her in front of everyone.
"I never said that." He glowered at her suspiciously. "I never said that. She’s enough for me. She’s all I need." He never imagined having someone else by his side other than you; he could never imagine you being with someone else. The thought of you smiling and laughing with a man other than him killed him inside.
"Where are you going?" Eryn yelled, seeing Charles walk away. He never bothered to answer the question.
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The house was silent when he came home. It was looking exactly like it was when he left, so he knew you were still in bed. It was tiring because it seemed like you passed every house chores to him, letting go of every bit of your responsibility in the house. It had been a week since you asked for a leave of absence, while he had to go out and travel back and forth from Monaco to Maranello, so he was expecting you to at least lift a finger to help him.
Charles cursed under his breath after taking a glance at his reflection in the mirror. The lipstick stain on his cheek was rubbed off roughly as he wet his hands with the tap water. It was demeaning to you as his girlfriend if you ever saw him with a lipstick stain from another girl.
Unknowingly to him, his name and yours were already all over the gossip pages after the pictures were taken.
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"Morning, baby." Charles beamed, feeling your arms snake around his waist from the back. He woke up early this morning to clean up the house and got everything done before you woke up. The crestfallen feelings from last night were gone; all he cared about now was for you to be the first person he saw when he woke up. "I made you breakfast. I'm pretty sure this one was going to taste better than my last attempt."
His laugh was unsupported. Your arms around him became more secure as you planted your face against his back.
"Y/N?" You kept quiet, too wounded to reply. "Hey, what’s wrong?"
The phone in your hand was taken away, leaving your shaky hands empty as he looked at the screen.
"Y/N—"
"How could you do this to me?" Your voice trailed off.
"No, listen to what I have to say. It’s not what you think it is."
Charles’ hand that hovered on your cheek was shoved away as you wiped your own tears. "Who is she?"
"Eryn. Louise’s friend. Look, I didn’t know—"
"I trusted you!" You howled, hands clenched into a fist as you punched his chest, again and again as you sobbed.
"I was alone! You weren’t there with me, so I—"
"So you let her kiss you?" It hurt. It hurt so bad to see the guy you loved break every bit of trust you had.
"It wouldn’t happen if you were there with me." Charles muttered. He knew it was his part to calm you down and give you reassurance, but part of him felt like it was unfair for the blame to be on him alone. You should have been there with him.
"Charles, I was sick!" You cried. He sounded so distant.
"And I was lonely, Y/N! I barely saw your face, though we lived in the same house. We stopped watching movies together and stopped making dinner together. I miss you! Sometimes I don’t even remember your existence in this house. Just tell me the truth. Are you tired of us?"
"Stop turning this on me! I wasn’t feeling well, and you know it. I didn’t wish to lay down all the time." Your gaze went to his face, pleading for him to see your reason.
"Bullshit." He scoffed and turned his back on you. The grip he had on the kitchen counter was hard, making every vein in his hand more visible. "You didn’t go to work; you didn’t do shit for days. I was the one who did everything in this fucking house, Y/N! I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with you to be so fucking useless."
Some of the tears dropped on your feet, and some of them started decorating the porcelain. "I did what I could in the house, but there were times when..." You stopped when you felt like you were choking on your tears. "There were times where I got so tired, Charles. I got so tired that I just wanted to lay down, and I—"
"You did nothing, Y/N! Nothing! Whenever I came home, you would be sleeping, leaving everything behind for me to clean. Am I your fucking slave? Using my money alone isn’t enough; you have to make me bow down and get on my knees to praise you like a god? Is that what you want from me?"
"I’m sorry.." You went from standing right on his back to a few feet away, unable to look at his raging eyes that were perforating you.
"Yeah, that’s the only thing you could say. How does it feel to win the fucking lottery in your life? I know you don’t actually want to work but didn’t want to make it seem too obvious that you were using me for wealth and fame. Guess that wasn’t enough that you have to make me do everything in the house that you didn’t spend a dollar on, the house that I paid for." He walked away; the scrambled eggs he was making earlier were left forgotten on the stove.
"Charles, that wasn’t my intention." You trailed his steps, hand went to grab his arm as it felt like he was trying to walk away from your life.
"Everything you have on you right now is my money. Your necklace, your bracelet, and your ring. That shirt you are wearing. Everything. I just want you to stop using me for your benefit, Y/N. I came home and went to sleep with no touch or kisses from you. I didn’t even have anyone to talk with about my day. At this point, it’s just worthless of you to keep on being in my life." Charles’ expression went hard. He didn’t know where the thought came from, but he knew how bad the damage was the moment those words slipped off his lips.
"I’ll give back everything." You murmured, taking heavy steps in front of the man you love. "I’m sorry for being a burden." You took his clenched fist and opened it, placing the ring he had given to you on our first anniversary five years ago on his palm. The bracelet with a butterfly charm that you got as a graduation gift was unhooked as you put it with the ring on his palm. You could never forget his sweaty face from chasing the flight back home just to make it on time for your graduation. How he was so nervous to put the bracelet on you with his hands shaking in front of your parents.
"Can you... help me take this one off?" Your long hair was gathered in one hand as you turned your back on him, begging him to take off the bracelet that you were so happy with when you first got it. The bracelet that he gifted for you when he got to join Formula 1. Funny how it was him who achieved something, but you were the one who got a gift. Guess it was true when he said you were using him for your own benefits.
But the bracelet that you had worn with pride and contentment now felt like it burned your skin the longer you left it on.
His hand that was shaking when he first put the bracelet on you, the hand that was shaking out of excitement and nervousness, was now shaking again as he took the necklace off.
but this time it was out of fear and uncertainty about what was to come next.
You weren’t able to look at him because your cheeks were drenched in tears. If your skin could soak up every tear that had dropped from your eyes, it would have reached its limit by now. You heard him weep, but you didn’t dare to bring your gaze up. If being in front of him right now made him feel humiliated and made him bend forward even more from the weight load that you brought, then it would be better for you to just step out and let him go.
"I’m sorry for everything." It was useless to wipe your eyes only for them to shed more tears after, but you still did it. You wiped the tears and left a peck on his wet cheek before you made your way to the room. It didn’t take long for you to pack your things together because, like he said, everything you had on was his. He stood there, eyes on his palm, when you walked out with your luggage. His shirt that you had worn before was put in the laundry bag, afraid he would find it disgusting if you just left it anywhere else.
And you left him. You left the house that had become your home for years. All because of your sickness.
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"When will they discharge you?" Your best friend, Lia, looked back, toning down her voice so she wouldn’t get caught by your boss for loafing around. "I’m so bored in here without you."
"Tomorrow!" You squealed and covered your mouth when she asked you to keep quiet. "I’ll be out tomorrow! But I’ll start working in 2 days."
"I can’t wait to see you! Just let me know whatever you are craving, and I’ll get it done!" She winked.
"I want your brownies! The one with strawberries that you used to bring for lunch.” You rested your hand on your middle.
"You got it!" She confirmed with a grin and looked back right away when there were steps coming. You laughed, seeing her not-so-sneaky attempt to video call you during work, but you hadn’t been able to talk to her for days, so she couldn’t wait for another hour to spill all the tea you had been missing.
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"Charles!" Lia greeted the taller man with baskets full of ingredients. She had stopped by the supermarket to get all the things needed to make her brownies that you were craving when she bumped into the driver in the cereal aisle.
"Lia. It’s been a while. How are you?" Charles grabbed the cereal box in front of him and put it in the basket along with his other stuff.
"Good! How are you? It must be very exciting, isn’t it? I mean, I have no relation to her at all, but I’m still so, so excited; that was all I could think of for this week." Lizzy shook her shoulders, trying so hard not to scream.
"I don't—I don’t get it?" Charles mumbled, slow enough that it didn’t get to capture Lia's attention as she remained in her own bubble, looking so elated about something she just mentioned. "That’s a lot of things you got there." He then changed the topic; his gaze went to the basket she was holding.
"Ah, it’s for Y/N! I hope she doesn’t give you a hard time with her pregnancy cravings, Charles. It won’t be that long; just bear with it. The excessive morning sickness was harsh enough." Lia blurted, looking down as she remembered how horrible you looked when you were hospitalised for hyperemesis gravidarum.
Charles felt like his heart just dropped to his stomach. If Lia walked away right at this moment, he was so sure his legs would give away.
"If you feel like she’s too much or you are too tired to satisfy all her needs and cravings, please let me know. I can help you in bits and pieces. If she wants a banana cake at 3 AM and you are too exhausted, call me. I can bake one and send it to your house right away. I do understand your career and ours; mine and Y/N’s were totally different, so I’ll help you as much as I can. If you need to fly away, please don’t leave her alone. Send her to me. She’s my best friend. She’s always welcome at my house."
Charles tilted his face away from Lia, facing the colourful boxes of cereals, to stop his tears from slipping down. His hand, which was wrapped around the hoops of the basket, nearly slipped off.
Lia chuckled and wiped away her tears, feeling slightly embarrassed for shedding tears in front of the driver. "I’m so sorry, I got so emotional. I’ll get going first. Bye, Charles! Make sure Y/N gets home safely from the hospital tomorrow! I’ll smack you if anything happens to her."
Soon as Lia was gone from the aisle, Charles took his phone out. Fingers hovered on your contact name, the only contact that was saved with a heart emoji.
What have I done?
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Two pairs of eyes were looking at each other when they heard the bell ring. They weren’t expecting anyone, not even a visitor, considering their only daughter had just come back from her week-long stay in the hospital.
"Open it."
"You go." Mrs. Y/L/N pushed her husband towards the door as she hurried back on the couch, ignoring the look from the man.
"Mr. Y/L/N." Charles stood straight when the door opened, and his eyes landed on the older man.
"Is there anything I can do to help you?" The tone was unwelcoming.
"I—can I see Y/N?"
"She’s asleep. Come back tomorrow." The older man was going to shut the door before his wife called out, feet approaching those two men who were wrapped in frosty air.
"Come in, Charles. I was going to wake her up for her medicine, but I guess you could do that for me." The soft, caring tone of the older woman reminded him so much of the girl he loved.
"Can I go to her room? If you don’t mind." Charles gulped, ignoring the eyes of the older man.
"Of course! It’s not your first time in here, honey. Come in." The older woman assured before drawing the driver inside the house, asking him to go straight to your room before her husband could say anything.
"I’m not taking the blame if she doesn’t want to talk to us." The older man said, locking the front door.
"He is still the father of the child."
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When Charles walked in, he saw you sitting up, hand on your middle that hadn’t shown much of a shape yet, as you turned your body around to let your legs hang off the bed. It seemed like you didn’t realise he was in the room based on the lack of reaction he got. He stood there, seeing your back, while your hands were busy scanning through the medicines in the dark. He felt the heartache again, the same one he felt at the supermarket in front of Lia. He heard you hum, your body subtly trembling as you swung your legs, your hands still busy going through the tonnes of medicines in hand.
"Y/N.."
Your whole body stopped moving, your voice was gone when you heard it. The voice you had been missing, longing to hear him call out your name,
Charles quickly grabbed one of the medicine packs that nearly fell off your laps and kneeled down in front of you. He took all the medicines you had in hand and flicked on the bedside lamp so he could see your face.
And again, there was no difference from the last time he saw you. Your face was damp with tears. The smooth, pink lips were quivering from trying to keep your cry silent.
He was staring at your face for too long for him to realise that there were trails of tears forming on his cheeks as well. "Which one— which one do you need?" He brought his gaze down, scanning the names of the medicines in his hand.
"I need pyridoxine, promethazine, and metoclopramide." The tears that rolled off your eyes ended up hanging off your jawline.
Charles wiped off the tears hanging from the lower edge of your jaw before he searched through the packaging, putting aside the ones you mentioned. The glass jug that was on the bedside table was taken before you could extend your arm.
"Thank you." You muttered; your arm sleeve was used to wipe your wet lips.
Charles brought up his hand, pulling it back before he rested it on your middle. "Can—can I?"
You nodded.
He brought and stroked his hand on your belly as his tears dropped when you placed your hand on his. "How long?"
"3 months."
"How long have you known?" He looked up, his gaze went back on yours.
"Around 2 weeks ago. Mom brought me to the hospital when I lost consciousness, only to find out we were going to have a baby." You managed to smile at the end of your words, excited to bring the fruit of your love to the world.
We. Charles bit his lips, head dipped down, thinking back on what he had done, yet you were still acting fine, smiling, and addressing the pregnancy as his as well, despite all the horrible things he said to you.
"Lia said you were hospitalised. What happened?" He cupped his hand on your kneecap.
"My morning sickness was too severe; they had to keep me in the hospital because I was too dehydrated and had imbalanced mineral levels in my blood. But I’m all good now. The baby is healthy too." You wiped the fresh tears from your boyfriend’s cheeks.
"Why didn’t you call me?"
"I don’t want..." The next words were stuck in your throat, and the memory from that night came back into your mind.
You don’t want to be a burden to him. He knew that was what you wanted to say. "I’m sorry—"
"I’m sorry.." You said it at the same time. "I’m sorry for being a burden to you. You deserve to be happy, Charles."
"You make me the happiest person on earth, Y/N. Even if I’m not happy with my life, I still want you to be with me, just like you always have. Everything I said that night, I didn’t mean any of it. I didn’t know why I felt so lonely. I missed you so much that I became frustrated. It doesn’t excuse any of my words, I know." Charles’ head was on your lap as you brushed your fingers through the soft curls of his hair. He was still crying. You knew it when some of tears dropped on your skin.
Charles rarely cried. Maybe it was true what your mom had been saying.
"About Eryn, she—" Charles’ was about to continue his words, but you interrupted, which made him lift his head from your lap.
"I know." You smiled, seeing his wet eyelashes. "I know about her. Louis called me and explained everything. It was my fault for doubting you."
"No. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for being a terrible boyfriend. I shouldn’t have stayed with her that night. I should have left; I should have gone home to you."
"Even if you left her, she would still follow you around. Louis confessed to me, saying that he forced her to do things to you because he hated me." You cupped on the cheeks, your lips still curled into a smile, seeing the man in front of you.
"Louis..said that?" He had brought you to meet his friends a few times but never realised any loathing or hatred from any of them. To him, his friends never had any problems with you. His old friends, at least. Louis was one of the guys he met through a mutual a year ago and joined the group a few months after that. You never said anything to him either, so he didn’t want to accuse anything, though he did realise you were uncomfortable whenever Louis came up to him.
"But I realised how much he actually loves you. I was wrong for that. I’m really sorry, Y/N. What Eryn did was all because I asked her to. I asked her to flirt him, kiss him if needed, do anything that could break your trust on him. " Louis admitted feeling dreadful for what he did to his own friend.
"And I think I know why you have been feeling like that." You mumbled, leaning against his touch on your cheek.
"Like what..?"
"Stand up..you’ll hurt your knees." You pulled, or at least tried to make him stand, as he cautiously took a seat by your side, and you finally hugged him, your head against his chest.
"I know why you felt so lonely and frustrated." You closed your eyes as he cradled your head. "Mom said you could be having couvade syndrome."
"And what does that even mean? Do I need to get myself checked? Is there any treatment?"
"No. It’s just something that some expectant fathers would experience." You sat up straight and giggled.
"You mean, from the pregnancy?" His hand went back to your belly.
"Yeah. One of those symptoms is attention seeking."
"Are you saying I was attention-seeking?"Hm?" He pinched your nose as he laughed along with you. He did feel like you didn’t love him because you kept on ignoring him, and he found himself getting mad because you didn’t touch or kiss him like you used to because you fell asleep before him. "It kind of made sense, though."
"You still should have told me what you were actually feeling. I can’t read mind..”
Charles smiled, seeing your adorable expression with your pursed lips. "I know, baby. I know. That was totally my fault, and I am so, so sorry for what I did. I totally get it if you need some time. Just, please come back to me when you are ready."
"No.." You whined, his head was tugged closer, and you hugged him by the neck. "You can’t leave me again."
"I’m not, love. I just thought you needed some time." He stayed in your embrace; arms went around your waist.
"I don’t need that. I just want you to be with me. You can’t leave me."
"Hey—" Charles pulled away when he heard you start sobbing and cupped your cheeks so you would look at him.. "I’m not leaving you, sweetheart."
I guess it was true what his friend went through.
"Dude, my girlfriend has acted like a freaking child ever since she got pregnant. She’s so adorable, I’m telling you." Nico grinned from ear to ear, thinking about his pregnant girlfriend at home.
"Yeah, right." Charles laughed, not denying it but not agreeing with it either.
"I’m serious! Girls get extra sensitive when they get pregnant; it’s like taking care of a child."
The driver only shrugged, his lips still smiling.
"You’ll know when Y/N gets pregnant."
"Ah, I brought this back." He grabbed the small jewellery box he carried with him earlier and took out all the gifts that belonged to you. "Will you take these back, please? I know what I said was harsh, and it made me sound like a miser, but when I bought these for you, there wasn’t any point in my life where I ever thought of the price or you returning them to me if we ever broke up. I bought them because they reminded me a lot about you. I can’t keep them, and I don’t want to keep any of them. I want to see you wearing it. I want to see you show them off to everyone. How beautiful you looked with it." Charles saw your empty stare and pressed his lips, understanding the look very well. "But..it’s okay if you don’t want to. I’ll just keep it safe."
"I don’t want you to break up with me.." You gave a whimper of protest.
"Y/N, that’s not what I meant." Everything he said earlier was ignored, and you only caught the words ‘break up’.
"But you said it.."
"I know, but—that wasn’t my point. I’m not breaking up with you." He smiled when you started weeping again.
Is this what Nico had to go through when his girlfriend got pregnant? It is indeed so fucking adorable.
"Promise?"
"Promise, love.” He brushed your hair away from sticking all over you face and kissed your forehead. “Can I put these back on you?"
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"I told you it was couvade!" Mrs. Y/L/N jabbed her husband���s chest with her elbow, both pairs of eyes still peeking through the door of their daughter’s bedroom.
"How did you know? Rough guess?" He replied.
"Because I know my future son-in-law very well! He wouldn’t do any of that for no reason. Have you ever seen our daughter cried ever since Charles came into her life? No! And you had it too when I was pregnant with Y/N."
"That’s enough. Let’s just leave them alone." Mr. Y/L/N tugged on his wife’s hand, whispering.
"What if they do something inappropriate?"
"She’s pregnant. It’s too late to think about that." He laughed, taking the steps away first, followed by his wife.
✧.* general tag list! @i83andrew @cltrlne @karmabyfernando @ohthemisssery @ru-kru @tastebaldwin @f1obessed @love4lando @shinrjj @ietss @leclerc13 @darleneslane @buckybarnessweetheart @xcinnamongirl @boiohboii @formula1mount @judespoision @alwaysclassyeagle @scenesofobx @mrsmaybank13 @vildetry06 @harriesgolden
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#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc imagine#f1 imagines#charles leclerc#charles leclerc imagines#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#charles leclerc fluff#charles leclerc blurb#charles leclerc angst
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Dragon Ball Z X Reader Nickname HC
A/N: I saw somebody say that people make characters softer for desirability purposes. INCORRECT! I make them soft because everybody, every single person, has a side of them- a softness- that is reserved for certain people.
🎀🎀🎀
Vegeta:
- Vegeta rarely calls you nicknames. And that is okay because his version of a nickname is simply your name, but without the sharp, demanding tone that he says everyone else’s in.
- He also calls you “woman.” He used to do it seriously, but now he only does it when he’s bored and he wants to argue for fun.
- Will patronizingly call you “babe” if you bug him or nag him about something.
“Vegeta! Chichi called, she says that Goku is training and he wants you to join him!” You called up the stairs to the Prince of all Saiyans, who was currently in the shower.
“Tell Kakarot I have no interest in playing games with him today!”
You sighed and rolled your eyes. That wasn’t true at all, so you told him, “I think it would be good for you!”
After a long stretch of silence, Vegeta replied, “Fine, babe!”
You groaned loudly and dramatically so he would hear it. You told Chichi that Vegeta would be joining Goku and after a little chitchat, hung up.
Two soaking wet arms wrapped around your waist from behind and a chin rested on your shoulder. “Woman. Say it.”
“Hm? I don’t believe I heard anything. The wind sounds awfully strange today.” You looked around as if you had no idea where the sound was coming from, but you placed your hands overtop of Vegeta’s. “I haven’t a clue in the world what it could mean.”
He huffed and lightly scraped his teeth against your neck skin. “Y/N,” he crooned, so uncharacteristically gently,
You pursed your lips, but couldn’t fight the smile off your face. You know that tone was reserved for one person and one person only.
“I love you, Vegeta.”
He released you and began walking away with his chest puffed out and his chin high. “And why wouldn’t you? I am the Prince of All Saiyans-“
“VEGETA!”
“I love you too, Y/N.”
Piccolo:
- He either calls you “sweet” or “pretty little earthling.” He throws the “little” in there because he knows that pointing out the fact that you are significantly weaker than him makes you pout.
- He doesn’t call you these things in public ever, but in private, you can get them out of him all the time.
Piccolo had come home late. It was in the wee hours of the morning, so you were fast asleep. He entered your bedroom quietly and found you curled up under your covers, snoring quietly.
He smiled and ran his hand over your hair, pushing it out of your face. He stared at you for a moment, admiring your sleeping visage. He then readied himself for bed and settled down beside you.
You briefly woke up, your eyes half open and bleary with sleep. You mumbled something unintelligible.
“Go back to sleep, sweet,” he said gently.
You nodded and snuggled in to him, falling back asleep while safely wrapped in his arms.
🎀🎀🎀
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how much you own me
ex-boyfriend Gojo x reader
-> CW: ex-boyfriend Gojo, angsty, you both teach at jujutsu high, Gojo is an idiot, Geto is flirty but that is inconsequential [I just love him] Gojo is possessive and a bit whiney, fluffy near the end. MDNI, smut warning [hand jobs, fingering, finger sucking, it’s all kinda soft tbh, nipple sucking, penetration, a lot of kisses – so many kisses, bathroom sex, public sex, mention of form of protection {IUD} I apologize if I missed anything]
-> WC: 2.9k
-> Masterlist | Prompt List [send me requests!]
-> A/N: Okay so this is a little cliché, maybe not the best written, and totally self-indulgent. I wanted an ex-boyfriend Gojo begging you to take him back, and some make up(ish) sex and so I wrote it. I hope you guys like it. As usual please ignore any grammar that is incorrect, I tried my best.
"When I'm all by myself and the drink doesn't help. Take 'em down from the shelf and I'm reminded, I keep fighting wars in my head with the miles of regret 'cause I had every letter but now, I cant find the words to say."
– The Vamps
“Don’t walk away from me.” His voice was even, he never really yelled. That was one of the first things you’d liked about Gojo, his effortless calm. Everything was easy for him, so it was rare for him to be anything but calm. The only things that rattled Gojo were things he couldn’t control. Lack of control was not a state of being for Gojo Satoru.
“Watch me.” You replied turning away from him. He caught your wrist and pulled you back towards his chest.
“Stop.” He gritted out, his voice wasn’t as even anymore but he wasn’t yelling. He still thought he had some control. Jokes on him.
“Or what?” You asked, your tone taunting. Your head tilted to the side as you glared up at your ex. His pale blue eyes were hidden behind glasses, but this close you could see them narrow at you through the tinted glass.
You scoffed at him before yanking out of his hold.
“Leave me alone Gojo.”
Your footsteps echoed down the hall as you walked away from him. Your hands shook at your side. A couple of steps, and you’d be outside. Outside the school. Outside Gojo’s bubble. Out.
“I can’t.”
His words hit your back, piercing up your skin, and crawling over your mind. You saw red.
“You can’t?” You asked. Your steps halted just as you got to the door. “You fucking can’t!?” your voice rose as you spun to face him. He was still in the spot you’d left him.
“You broke up with me!” You yelled, “You stopped talking to me! Three months Gojo and now you wanna talk to me like that didn’t fucking happen. Well too bad, I don’t give a fuck about you anymore.”
That was a blatant lie. You cared a lot and seeing him was hard, him touching you was brutal. You needed to get out of this hallway. Away from him.
He said your name as you turned away from him a second time, a soft word floating in the hallway. Your blood boiled as you stomped out the door.
He followed, “Please baby.” His hand grabbed your arm again, but he didn’t pull. This time his grip just held you in place.
“Do not call me that, and do not touch me.” You yanked your arm out of his hand for the last time and walked away.
~
Gojo was drunk.
“Youreanidiot.” Geto slurred. “I said that back then too remember?” He was waving his glass in Gojo’s face.
“Shut up you drunk.”
“Hey, I’m only drunk because I’m a good best friend.”
Gojo took a large swig of his drink, the bitter taste coated his throat, a deep burn blazing down his chest. He closed his eyes and let his head fall on the table. The room was spinning. He told Geto as much, but Geto mumbled something back before getting up and leaving Gojo alone at the table.
“I need some space.”
Space was stupid. Space was dumb. Why had he asked for it? What did he learn? Oh, he learned something alright, he learned what your face looked like when your heart broke. Gojo banged his head against the table once, before letting out a deep groan.
He pulled his phone out of his pocket, his hands fumbling the device as he brought it to his face. Only lifting his body half up in his seat, that’s all he could manage. He thumbed through his contacts and found your name. He called you. Once, twice, three times. Of course, you didn’t answer him so he texted.
im don’t need spac e I jst needu.
Im sn idiot.
Im sorry.
But of course, you never replied, you never read them.
“Oh, Satoru don’t text her,” Geto whined as he sat down in his seat again beside Gojo.
“I’m pathetic.”
“That you are.” Geto swung his arm around Gojo’s shoulder pulling him into his side. “But it's okay.”
~
“He really thinks he’s something huh?” your best friend asked from your left. You were sat on a bar stool your first drink, following three shots, in your hand. You’d only taken a sip from it before spotting Gojo leaning against a wall. His gaze geared on you.
“He really thinks he can just get you back?” Utahime asked from your right. Her presence was the reason you three were out today at this club, she was visiting for the weekend.
“He sent some drunk messages last night.” You said looking away from him and pulling your phone out to show your friends. The two leaned into to look at your screen. Your best friend snickered.
“Sad.”
“Pathetic.”
“Ah yes, that he is.” Geto’s voice churned in. Your eyes moved up to take in his smiling face, he was leaning in as well, his eyes on your phone.
You pulled your phone to your chest, forcing Geto to turn his smile to you.
“Have you heard of personal space?” You asked. Your distaste for Gojo unsurprisingly extended to his best friend.
His only response was a soft breathy chuckle and a step back.
“Hey now,” He started throwing his hands up, “I don’t think I’m the enemy.”
“Why are you two here?” Your best friend asked, Geto turned his head to her, his eyes trailing down her body before he replied.
“Isn’t it obvious babe?” He asked leaning towards her.
“It’s pathetic.” You muttered.
“I thought we already went over that,” Geto replied his hands disappearing into his pockets his eyes still on your best friend.
“Go away.” Your best friends muttered turning away from him. You could tell she was flustered by his gaze.
You rolled your eyes at Geto’s antics before quickly downing your drink.
You took Utahime and your best friend’s hands, “Come let’s go dance.” You pulled them both towards the crowded dance floor, the bass of whatever song was playing thumped through your body as you settled into a spot and began to sway to the music. The couple of shots you’d taken before realizing Gojo was also in the building were running rampant through your bloodstream now, aided by the heat of the bodies around you. You laughed as the song changed and you danced pushing your ex out of your head and letting yourself go to the music. You were having fun despite Gojo and that’s why you didn’t mind when hands snaked around your waist and pulled you away from your friends. You ground your hips back into the stranger liking the way his hands trailed up your side, his head curling into the side of your neck. He said something but you didn’t hear him, your eyes had found Gojo again his head was turned in your direction, and you knew he’d been watching you the whole time. You could feel it. Tipping the corner of your mouth up at him you lifted a hand up and threaded it into the stranger’s hair.
“Fuck, you’re so hot.” You let him press wet kisses into your skin, your eyes stuck on Gojo, your hips still moving against the stranger. Your brain streamlined on your ex, you got to a dazed place where the hands on your body were Gojo’s, and so were the lips pressing heated kisses only stopping to harshly nip at your skin. Your eyes fluttered at the thought and when you gained your focus again Gojo was gone.
“Fuck off.” A voice growled to your left, a hand grabbing at the wrist that was pulling at strands of hair.
“Excuse me-” The guy was cut off as Gojo yanked you into his chest. His glasses slid down his nose as he glared at the other man.
“Gojo what the fuck.” You struggled against his grip, but his hold was strong, and he took you through the crowd towards the restroom, your body pulled into his chest the entire way. Once inside the bathroom, he pushed you towards the sink and mirror and turned to lock the door behind him.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” You asked. He didn’t say anything, your words hung heavy in the air as he stared at you. His gaze was heavy, his blue eyes peering at you. The only movement was him taking his glasses off, he tucked them into his back pocket and took you in. Trailing his eyes over your body, heat trailing everywhere he looked.
You narrowed your eyes at him and scoffed.
“Let me out Gojo.” You said motioning for him to move from the door.
“You know,” he started and took a step towards you, ���three months, four months a year. Baby get it through your head. You are mine.”
His voice was low, rubbing against your heart pulling at your sanity and causing a deep rage to crawl over you.
“You broke up with me!” You yelled.
“And I regret it.” Gojo said, “And that only confirms how much I need you. How much you own me.”
“No, fuck that and fuck you.” You said and moved to shove him out of the way so you could leave. He grabbed both your wrist as you tried to shove him and spun you into the door. Your back hit it hard as Gojo crowded into you, your arms pinned on both sides of your head by his hands, his lips on yours in an instant.
The kiss was deep, heavy, and angry. You bit at his lip, and he moaned into your mouth. His tongue met yours and you pushed back with the same fervour he displayed. You were going to implode, his touch, his mouth was too much. You knew, ever since that day in the hallway when he grabbed your wrist, you’d known. If he touched you again it would be too much. He knew it too.
You moaned against him as he moved his thigh between your legs, your body had been rocking against his as you kissed. You felt a sense of needing to run as you moved against him but the feeling left, overwhelmed by Gojo.
“I broke up with you because I’m an idiot,” He muttered his lips still touching yours. Your eyes were closed, and your breathing shallow, your hips still rocking ever so slightly against him, but you let him talk. “One more chance, please.”
“The great Gojo Satoru begging.” You whispered back.
“For you. Yes.” He didn’t even sound ashamed. Just desperate. You relented and kissed him again. He let go of your wrists, letting his fingers tangle into your hair. Your own hands went around him, pulling at the soft strands at his neck as you got lost in him. It was familiar and good, you’d wanted this so bad. Would it be so bad to give him another chance?
Your hands left his hair and trailed down his torso and up his shirt pushing it up as you felt the ridges of his abs letting your nails dig into the hard muscle. Gojo hissed into your mouth but didn’t stop you. So, you kept moving your hands, lower this time, fingers brushing his skin as you went. Your fingers stopped at his waistband, he sucked on your tongue lightly as you both waited to see if you would do it. It didn’t take you long to decide, yes you would.
Your fingers moved to undo his pants and grab at his erection. You pulled away from his mouth and looked down, the skin of his cock was heated, and the head was swollen and red, you licked your lips as you skimmed your thumb over the slit. Gojo hissed again before letting out a soft moan as you did it again. You brought your hand to your mouth spitting into it before palming him, moving your hand against his heated skin, watching his face as he closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against yours.
“I don’t deserve this.” He muttered.
“No.” you muttered, “you don’t.” But he was still getting it, he was still getting you, that thought pushed him to move, his hand pushing up your shirt and bra palming your boob before flicking at your nipple. You sucked in a breath at the action but kept your hand moving on him. He lowered his head and took your nipple into his mouth sucking on you before biting at it. You let your head fall back against the door as Gojo worked your nipple. Your hips still grinding into his thigh, and your hand still working his cock.
“Satoru,” You moaned, eye fluttering shut.
“Satoru,” He muttered back forcing your eyes to open and look at him. He was peering up at you with a cocky grin on his face, his mouth red from sucking on you. But you were beyond yourself to be mad at it, yeah you moaned his name, his first name, so what?
“I need your fingers.”
“Happily.” He answered, and let his fingers run down your quivering stomach to the band of your pants, he quickly undid them and instantly his fingers were on you. Two fingers circled your clit heating your blood further, you were arching against the door, he took your nipple back into his mouth forcing your hand to hesitate on his cock as he worked you.
You moaned his name softly again before saying “More.” He brought his head back up to yours pressing your lips into a wet kiss as he sank two fingers into you. You sucked in a breath as he began to pump his fingers. His lips moved against yours forcefully as he picked up his pace, your hand stilling on his cock as he did so. He grabbed your hand intertwining his fingers and pulled it away from him letting you focus on your pleasure as he fucked you with his fingers.
A heated bundle of energy built up in the pit of your stomach moving down as Gojo added another finger stretching you further, pulling louder moans from you as he did.
“Satoru, I’m going to cum.” You mumbled into his lips.
“Then come baby.” He muttered back, curling his fingers into your g-spot, and finally tipping you over. You saw white as you arched into his chest further, your nipples rubbing into his chest, your head rolling to the side allowing Gojo to dip his head into the crook of your neck and suck on your heated skin. His fingers worked you through your orgasm prolonging the intense heat that coursed through you until you were panting against him, your hands shaking, and your mind muddled.
“The sounds you make are mine, the face you make is mine, and I’ll spend the rest of my life proving that to you.” He said this lowly, his head dipping so that his eyes were locked with yours, “Proving to you that you own me as much as I own you.” He finished it off by pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth as he pulled his fingers from you. “Turn around babe.”
You listened and spun in his hold, your back arching so that your ass was against his groin instantly. His left hand coming up beside your head on the door, and his right holding tightly onto your waist.
“Let’s take these off.” He said and pushed at your pants, you helped him get rid of your pants and underwear, “Are you ready for me pretty girl?”
You nodded, your breath shallow still, your skin heated and your brain stuck on all things Gojo Satoru. He pressed a light kiss to the back of your neck as he brought his cock to move through your folds. You mewled when his cock head passed over your sensitive clit.
“Fuck, I don’t have a condom.” He groaned, “I wasn- this isn’t how I wanted this to-” He stumbled over his words his head bowed into your shoulder. His hips were still moving against you though, his cock still dragging through your wet folds.
“It’s okay, I’ve still got my IUD.” You let your arm turn over his head, your hand digging into his hair so that you could pull his head to yours. “Fuck me Satoru.” You whispered, your lips grazing the side of his mouth. He groaned and lined up his cock with your entrance.
“Every day baby. You’ve owned me every day since I’ve met you. I’m sorry I’m such an idiot.” He said this as he slowly sank into you, every word hitting something deep inside you as he bottomed out. You only managed to moan his name.
“I know.” He mumbled before kissing you again and began to slowly pump into you. Every single one of your senses was filled with him, you were living and breathing Gojo at that moment as he moved against you, his cock dragging against your fluttering walls. His moans filled your ears mixing with yours, joining the sloppy sound of his skin slapping against yours.
You couldn’t think properly as he moved his hand from your waist to your mouth, slipping in past your lips. You sucked on them moaning as you did, when he pulled them from your mouth a strand of spit still connected you to his fingers. He darted down to your clit deftly moving the two fingers over it to draw you closer to your second orgasm.
“Cum baby. Cum with me.” He breathed. Overwhelmed, you came. Breaking apart on his throbbing cock, you spasmed in his hold, his other hand leaving the door to gather you against his chest as he continued to fuck you through the orgasm his fingers still moving against your clit. His name repeatedly fell from your lips as you saw white sparks floating around your vision, your entire body heated and spent. He followed soon after, finishing inside you with your name on his lips.
“Prove it Satoru. Don’t fuck me over this time.” You said through heavy breaths.
“I won’t”
He pressed a kiss to your forehead.
You smiled as you both took your time calming down and getting back to reality.
~hxt1b, feb 11 2024
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