#dagger likes the light himself
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wraithsoutlaws · 1 year ago
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how do you think the blorbo sleeps … he doesn’t have eyes …
like dis
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nightingale-prompts · 5 months ago
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Danny adopts himself
It's a common joke in Gotham that Bruce Wayne will adopt any black-haired and blue-eyed traumatized boy he finds. So much so that even he leans into it. But he was completely shocked when Damian confronts him about having a new brother that he did not want.
Bruce could barely get a word in when the rest of the family arrived upset that they weren't told about getting another sibling after Damian texted the family group chat (for once).
Damian had encountered a boy around Drake's age moving stuff into what was an empty room. The room was now furnished top to bottom with glowing green lights, tapestries of stars, random artifacts, several telescopes, and model rockets.
He knew the moment he saw the black hair and blue eyes that his father had taken in another ward.
Apparently Bruce was the last the know about his new "son" who was currently rearranging furniture and asking to help Alfred with dinner.
Said dinner was an uncomfortable as Bruce was grilled by his kids on his addiction to adoption. Simultaneously they tried to get to know the new addition to the family.
It was easy to see that Damian didn't like Danny but it was equally easy to see that Danny could cow the boy like a border collie on a lamb. When Damian thew a dagger the teen caught it with one hand as it passed his face and then slid it across the table back to Damian.
"Try again. " Danny said "And this time don't aim to miss on purpose. If you want me dead you need to do better."
Damian put the knife away and huffed.
Tim and Danny hit it off almost instantly. The way they were able to bounce their thoughts back and forth made Tim believe that he found an equal.
Danny was able to understand Cassie immediately with just look in eachothers eyes like he was reading her mind but not in a creepy way.
Jason of course noticed the strange energy in the air around the kid. It was soothing. Like lavender wafting in the air. Well lavender for everyone else for him it was like opium. His eyes felt heavy like he had eaten a handful of poppy seeds. At the same time he felt full, like he had eating a full meal after starving for a week.
Whatever it is Damian was feeling it too. The demon looked even more his age as he rubbed his eyes and yawned. The crease in his brow gone.
Duke on the other hand was more on edge as his eyes flickered towards Danny before looking away. He had something he wanted to ask about the glowing boy but since no one can see it or just isn't saying anything he will keep quiet for now.
Next was Barbara who teased the new kid.
"So how do you like your new family? Ready to be the new robin?" She asked.
"Im robin." Damian mumbled groggily.
The others were waiting for Damian to finally fall asleep and glared at one another in a challenge to be the one to pick up Damian and put him to bed. Dick was winning.
Speaking of Dick, as expected he was off the wall excited to learn more about his new little brother. He wanted the full story as to why Bruce took him in. He could almost certainly guess it was because of a tragic situation and Dick was already ready to handle it as the greatest big brother ever and he wasn't sharing the title no matter what Barbara said. Even if she was Stephanie's favorite.
Bruce cleared his throat and the table went silent. "So, Danny. Where exactly did you come from? Why are you here? And how did you know who I am?"
Everyone went white. Did they all just risk their identities believing that Danny was a new Robin? Why didn't Bruce say something? Not even a signal for the protocol they would use.
Danny frowned looking a bit hurt.
"What do you mean, Bruce? You said you owed me. You said you'd give me anything I wanted if saved your son. I even helped you get back home when you got lost in time." Danny huffed feeling betrayed.
The table went silent.
Bruce made a few calculations in his brain before something must have come to mind. "I lost my memory for a bit so I need a bit of proof."
Danny placed a batarang on the table. The batarang had an engraving on it in a code that only Bruce knew.
"You told me to show this to Alfred when I came. We had a deal, Bruce. You promised me whatever I wanted." Danny huffed clearly insulted.
Just like Danny had said the code was the one Bruce had made. However this code wasn't a promise to grant a favor but to welcome someone new to the family. Past Bruce must have had plans to take the boy in but told Danny something else to lure him here.
Bruce recognized that everyone was right and he has a problem now that he's looking at it like this.
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solxamber · 2 months ago
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Imagine having mc take care of dorm leaders that turned into animals like riddle a hedgehog, leona a lion, Azul a octopus, kalim an otter, vil would definitely be a peacock, idia would be a cat, and lastly malleus a dragon. They would definitely turned into animals due to some spell and I mean imagine seeing a huge dragon outside the ramshackle dorm, it would be really shocking and funny at the same time. 😆
Zoo Tycoon: Housewarden Edition
In which they accidentally turn into animals.
a/n: i started vibrating the minute I saw this because that's such a cute concept and I have no self control so here we go
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Riddle Rosehearts
Riddle turning into a hedgehog was not on your to-do list today. But alas, here you were, holding a furious, tomato-colored hedgehog that refused to be handled by anyone but you.
“Aw, look at his little face!” Ace cooed, leaning in way too close.
Riddle puffed up, his tiny spines bristling in pure indignation. You could practically feel the how dare you emanating from his quivering form.
Deuce, ever the voice of concern, scratched his head. “What do we do now? Can he… even turn back?”
Ace smirked. “Maybe we just keep him like this. He’s a lot cuter when he can’t yell at us.”
Riddle launched himself at Ace’s hand, delivering a swift poke with his needle-sharp snout. Ace yelped, flailing backward dramatically. “Okay, okay! Geez, he’s still scary even like this.”
You cradled Riddle closer to your chest, where he settled down, still glaring daggers at the others. Somehow, he was perfectly content in your hands, even though he practically vibrated with rage whenever anyone else got near.
As the day went on, Riddle’s hedgehog antics only grew.
At lunch, he sat on your lap, sniffing your sandwich like a tiny food inspector. “You want a bite?” you teased, holding out a crumb.
His tiny paw batted it away with a disdainful look. Well, as disdainful as a hedgehog could manage. He turned his head toward the teapot, making his intentions very clear.
“Oh, of course. Tea for the hedgehog,” Ace snorted. “This is getting ridiculous.”
Later, in the library, Riddle climbed onto your textbook, curling up into a spiky ball to block your reading. You tried to nudge him gently. “Riddle, I need to study.”
He uncurled just enough to glare at you, his beady eyes burning with absolute authority. Message received: study time was over.
By nightfall, you were exhausted. Riddle was perched on a pillow next to you, looking surprisingly regal for a tiny woodland creature.
“Alright, Your Majesty,” you said, rubbing your temples. “How do we turn you back? Should we call Professor Crewel? Or maybe Professor Trein?”
Riddle chirped in protest, clearly not a fan of either option.
Deuce had another bright idea. “What if it’s, like, a true love’s kiss thing? Isn’t that how these fairy tale curses usually work?”
You rolled your eyes. “That’s ridiculous.”
But Riddle fixed you with a surprisingly intense hedgehog stare, his little nose twitching.
“Wait, are you… agreeing?” you asked, mildly horrified.
Ace snickered. “Do it. Kiss the hedgehog. For science.”
After much internal debate (and external heckling), you sighed and leaned down to press a soft kiss to Riddle’s tiny forehead.
There was a burst of light, and suddenly, you were nose-to-nose with a very human, very flustered Riddle Rosehearts.
He scrambled backward, covering his face with his hands. “W-well, that was… unexpected.”
“Unexpected?” you echoed. “You asked for it!”
Ace howled with laughter in the background. “So it was true love’s kiss! You two are so gross!”
Riddle glared at him, but his ears were still bright red as he turned to you. “I suppose… I owe you my gratitude. And, um…” He cleared his throat, fidgeting. “Would you—if it’s not too much trouble—consider going out with me?”
You blinked. “Wait, you’re asking me out now?”
Riddle crossed his arms. “You did kiss me. It’s only proper!”
You laughed, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. “Sure, Hedgehog Prince. Let’s go on a date.”
Riddle muttered something about proper decorum, but his small smile said he wasn’t too upset about it.
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Leona Kingscholar
Leona turning into an actual lion wasn’t even the weirdest thing that had happened this week, but it was definitely in the top five.
“C’mon, Prefect.” Ruggie grinned as he all but shoved you into Leona’s room, slamming the door behind you before you could protest. “I got stuff to do, and someone’s gotta deal with him. He only listens to you anyway!”
You turned to find Leona—the lion version—lounging on his bed like the world’s crankiest housecat. His massive paws stretched lazily, his eyes locking onto you with the unmistakable air of finally, someone competent.
“Uh, hi, Leona,” you ventured, waving awkwardly.
He grumbled, a low rumble of approval that shook the floorboards, and flicked his tail in a way that said, Don’t leave.
It became clear very quickly that Lion Leona was just as much of a diva as Human Leona.
First, he refused to eat the steak that Ruggie brought him, pawing at it disdainfully until you had to personally cut it into perfect bite-sized pieces. He made a satisfied grunt after his meal, flopping down at your feet like you were the royal food taster he’d personally hired.
Then, there was the grooming incident.
“Leona, you have something stuck in your mane,” you said, pointing to a suspicious tangle.
He gave you a look that said, And?
Sighing, you grabbed a brush and carefully worked out the knot. To your shock, Leona let out a rumble that sounded suspiciously similar to a purr.
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”
He blinked slowly, the feline equivalent of a smirk.
Ruggie, ever the opportunist, couldn’t resist stopping by to witness the chaos.
“Wow, Prefect, he’s basically a giant kitten with you around,” Ruggie teased, leaning against the doorframe.
Leona growled, a low warning rumble that sent Ruggie scurrying back. “Okay, okay! Sheesh, no need to get territorial. Have fun babysitting!”
You sighed, scratching behind Leona’s ears. “You’re really not helping my case, y’know.”
Leona just huffed and leaned into your touch, clearly unbothered.
By the end of the day, you were sprawled on the bed next to Leona, who was taking up approximately 80% of the mattress.
“You’re kinda cute like this,” you admitted, running your fingers through his mane. “Not that you’re not cute normally, but… y’know. Less grumpy.”
He gave you a look that somehow conveyed I am never not grumpy.
Feeling bold (and maybe a little delirious from exhaustion), you leaned down and pressed a quick kiss to his forehead.
There was a sudden, blinding flash of light, and before you could process what was happening, Leona was back in his human form, lounging beside you with his trademark smirk.
“Well, well,” he drawled, propping himself up on one elbow. “Didn’t know you felt that way, herbivore.”
You spluttered. “I—what—this was true love’s kiss?! That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever—”
He leaned closer, cutting off your rant with a low chuckle. “Guess that means you’re stuck with me now. So… dinner? Or are you gonna keep brushing my hair all night?”
Your brain short-circuited, but you managed a weak, “Dinner sounds good.”
Leona smirked, clearly pleased with himself. “Smart choice.”
From outside, Ruggie’s muffled voice shouted, “Hey, did it work? Can I come back now, or is he still a murder machine?”
Leona groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Sevens, someone muzzle that guy.”
You couldn’t help but laugh, leaning into Leona’s side. Maybe being stuck with him wasn’t such a bad deal after all.
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Azul Ashengrotto
To be fair, you weren’t exactly surprised when Jade and Floyd ambushed you outside Mostro Lounge. Their grins alone screamed mischief.
“Shrimpy~,” Floyd sing-songed, grabbing you by the arm. “C’mon, we need your help.”
“Azul’s having a little… situation,” Jade added with a cryptic smile. “And we think you’re the only one who can help.”
Before you could protest, you were unceremoniously dragged into Mostro Lounge, through a hidden door, and deposited in front of a massive aquarium. Inside was—
“Is that an octopus?” you asked, squinting.
The octopus—no, wait, Azul—floated pathetically in the corner, looking as done with life as an eight-legged creature could manage.
“Yep,” Floyd said cheerfully. “Boss turned himself into an octopus. Wouldn’t let anyone near him, though, so…”
Jade handed you a bottle filled with suspiciously glowing liquid. “Breathing potion. You’re going in.”
“Excuse me?!”
Before you could escape, Floyd picked you up like a sack of potatoes and dumped you into the tank.
You flailed briefly, realizing the potion worked—thank Sevens—but also realizing you were now face-to-face with Octopus Azul.
“Uh, hi?” you ventured, swimming awkwardly closer.
Azul didn’t respond, but one of his tentacles twitched and pointedly smacked the glass. You got the impression he was saying Why me?
“It’s not like I asked for this, y’know!” you huffed, crossing your arms. “Your goons threw me in here!”
Azul floated closer, his large, round eyes narrowing as if to say Yes, and they will pay.
It didn’t take long for Azul to warm up to you, mostly because he realized you weren’t leaving.
“Are you sulking?” you teased after his sixth dramatic float to the other side of the tank.
A tentacle flicked water in your direction, splashing you.
“Hey!” You swam closer and poked him on the head. “Don’t be such a baby.”
Azul responded by curling a tentacle around your wrist, pulling you closer.
“Okay, fine, you’re cute,” you muttered, patting his squishy head. “There, happy?”
Azul’s tentacles tightened slightly, and you were 90% sure he was smug about it.
After what felt like hours of tentacle shenanigans (including one terrifying moment where Azul tried to steal your potion bottle), you sighed.
“You’re lucky you’re adorable,” you said, booping his forehead.
Azul blinked at you, his gaze softer than usual. He looked so pitiful and huggable that, without thinking, you leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to his forehead.
There was a bright flash, and suddenly you were face-to-face with human Azul, who was sitting awkwardly in the shallow end of the tank, his face as red as a lobster.
“W-What did you just—”
“Oh my Sevens, you’re back!” you interrupted, relief washing over you. “Thank goodness, I thought I’d have to live in here forever!”
Azul cleared his throat, clearly flustered. “I—thank you. For… that.”
“No problem,” you said breezily, though your face felt like it was on fire.
Azul hesitated, fiddling with his glasses. “Would you, ah, perhaps… accompany me to dinner? As a token of gratitude, of course!”
“Sure,” you said, smiling. “But only if you promise to stop turning yourself into an octopus.”
He flushed even deeper, complaining something about “unavoidable circumstances,” but you couldn’t help laughing. Maybe dating an occasionally-octopus Azul wouldn’t be so bad.
From outside the tank, Floyd’s voice rang out: “Aww, Boss finally grew a backbone! Way to go, Shrimpy!”
Azul groaned, covering his face with his hands. “I’m never hearing the end of this.”
You patted his shoulder. “Welcome to my life.”
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Kalim Al-Asim
You really should have known something was wrong when Jamil showed up at your doorstep, eyes bloodshot and twitching slightly.
“I need your help,” he said, and those four words alone should’ve been your cue to lock the door and pretend you weren’t home.
But you didn’t, and that’s how you ended up sitting in Kalim’s opulent room, staring at a very excited otter splashing around in a gold-lined kiddie pool.
“You’re telling me Kalim turned himself into this?” you asked, pointing at the small, slippery creature currently attempting to roll onto his back and failing.
“Yes,” Jamil said, deadpan, rubbing his temples. “And he refuses to let anyone near him. Except apparently you.”
Kalim—the otter—perked up at the sound of your voice, flipping over and waddling toward you. He made a happy chirping sound before flopping dramatically onto your lap, his tiny paws grabbing at your shirt.
“See?” Jamil muttered, folding his arms. “This is why you’re staying here. I can’t deal with this anymore.”
Kalim was, to put it mildly, a handful.
One moment, he was contentedly snuggling in your lap, and the next, he was zooming across the floor, knocking over priceless vases and dragging an entire silk curtain into his pool.
“Uh, Kalim?” you called, watching as he tried to balance a sparkling golden spoon on his nose. “Maybe we don’t need to destroy the room?”
Kalim chirped in protest, clearly having the time of his life. He then waddled over to you, clutching the spoon like it was a treasure, and deposited it in your lap with a proud squeak.
“Well, at least he’s sharing,” you muttered, patting his head.
From the corner, Jamil was silently mouthing “thank you” over and over like a man who had just been freed from a lifetime of torment.
Kalim’s kiddie pool was more like a miniature lagoon, complete with floating toys and what looked suspiciously like a jewel-encrusted raft.
At some point, Kalim decided it would be fun to drag you into the water.
“Hey—wait, no!” you yelped as his surprisingly strong little paws grabbed at your sleeve, pulling you toward the pool. “I’m not getting in there!”
Kalim chirped insistently, his big otter eyes boring into your soul.
“Oh, come on,” you groaned. “Don’t give me that look.”
He gave you the look.
Five minutes later, you were sitting in the pool, soaked and glaring at Jamil, who was clearly struggling not to laugh.
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” you snapped.
“Immensely,” Jamil said, smirking.
After hours of otter chaos—during which Kalim managed to steal your shoe, splash water in your face, and attempt to juggle three golden coins—you finally sat back with a sigh.
“You’re lucky you’re cute,” you muttered, patting his head as he snuggled against you.
Kalim let out a happy chirp, his little paws clutching your hand. He looked so ridiculously adorable that, without thinking, you leaned down and pressed a quick kiss to his forehead.
There was a sudden burst of light, and when you opened your eyes, Kalim was sitting in front of you, back to his usual self—though still dripping wet and grinning ear to ear.
“You kissed me!” he exclaimed, his face lighting up like the sun.
“I—uh—well,” you stammered, your face heating up.
“Does this mean you like me?” he asked, tilting his head with an innocent smile.
Before you could respond, Jamil groaned from the corner. “Sevens, just ask them out already.”
Kalim turned to you, his grin widening. “Will you go out with me?”
You blinked at him, still processing the fact that you had just kissed an otter-turned-human. But then you smiled, nodding.
“Sure, Kalim.”
Kalim cheered, pulling you into a hug that nearly knocked you over. Meanwhile, Jamil sighed in relief, celebrating about finally getting some peace and quiet.
From the doorway, a passing student peeked in, took one look at the drenched mess of a room, and decided it was better not to ask.
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Vil Schoenheit
The day Vil Schoenheit turned into a peacock was the day you realized that your life at NRC was destined to never be normal.
“I don’t know how it happened!” Epel blurted, waving his hands in panic. “One second he was lecturing me about my skincare routine, and the next—poof! Peacock!”
“Of course, he’s a peacock,” you muttered, staring at the magnificent bird perched on the Pomefiore chaise lounge. The peacock in question—Vil—looked at you with a familiar haughty glare, which was impressive considering he now had beady bird eyes.
From the very beginning, Vil made it clear that he refused to be handled by anyone except you.
When Rook tried to approach him with a soothing poem about the beauty of nature, Vil screeched so loudly it sent even the huntsman scrambling.
When Epel tried to shoo him toward the door, Vil flared his tail feathers in a display so intimidating that Epel backed away, muttering, “This is worse than when he makes me wear lip gloss.”
But when you stepped forward, Vil immediately strutted over, his glossy feathers shimmering under the light. He circled you once before settling at your feet, letting out a dignified coo.
“Well, at least someone likes me,” you muttered, kneeling down to pat his head.
Vil preened under your touch, looking every bit the diva he was even in bird form.
Life with peacock Vil was… an adventure.
For one, he refused to eat anything that wasn’t served on fine china.
“Are you serious?” you asked, holding up a bowl of birdseed.
Vil turned his head away with a disdainful chirp, his tail feathers twitching in annoyance.
“Fine,” you groaned, dumping the seed onto a porcelain plate. “Happy now?”
Vil cooed in approval, delicately pecking at the food like it was a Michelin-star meal.
Then there was the incident with the mirror.
You found him perched in front of the Pomefiore vanity, admiring his reflection with an intensity that could only be described as borderline obsessive.
“You’re really leaning into the peacock thing, huh?” you teased.
Vil shot you a look that screamed How dare you, you pleb? before returning to his reflection, fluffing his feathers dramatically.
After a few days of peacock antics—including Vil refusing to let Epel touch his feathers (Glaring at him like he was screaming "He’s going to ruin them!”) and scaring off an unfortunate group of first-years with his aggressive tail display—you decided enough was enough.
“Alright, Vil,” you said, sitting down beside him. “We need to figure out how to fix this.”
Vil cooed softly, nuzzling against your hand.
You stared at him, your heart melting a little. He was undeniably cute in his current form, but you missed the human Vil—the one who could scold you for slouching and deliver a flawless monologue at the drop of a hat.
Without thinking, you leaned down and pressed a quick kiss to his feathered head.
There was a blinding flash of light, and suddenly, you were no longer holding a peacock but a very human—and very flustered—Vil Schoenheit.
“You… kissed me,” he said, his cheeks turning an uncharacteristic shade of pink.
“I—uh—well, you were cute?” you offered weakly.
Vil blinked at you, his usual composure slipping as he processed your words. Then, to your surprise, a small smile tugged at his lips.
“Perhaps we should make this official,” he said smoothly, though the faint blush on his face betrayed his nerves. “Would you like to go out with me?”
You stared at him, your brain short-circuiting for a moment. Then, you smiled, nodding.
“Yeah, I’d like that.”
Vil’s smile widened, and for the first time since he’d turned back, you saw the confident, radiant Vil you knew and admired.
From the doorway, Rook peeked in, his eyes sparkling with delight. “Ah, the beauty of true love!”
Epel groaned, muttering, “This is the weirdest dorm ever.”
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Idia Shroud
The day you were unceremoniously dragged into Idia’s room by Ortho, you knew something was amiss.
Ortho clasped his hands together as you stumbled inside. "Please take good care of Big Brother!"
“Wait, what?” you started, but Ortho was already zooming out the door, leaving you alone in the darkened chaos that was Idia’s sanctuary.
And there, sitting in the middle of the room on a glowing gaming chair, was a cat.
A very grumpy-looking cat with blue flame-like fur tips and unmistakable, judgmental yellow eyes.
“Idia?” you whispered, staring at the cat.
The cat hissed—its ears flat against its head. Yep, that was definitely Idia.
"Ortho wasn’t joking…" you muttered, inching closer.
Idia-the-cat glared at you, his tail swishing like a disapproving metronome. But as soon as you reached out a cautious hand, he hesitated before begrudgingly letting you scratch behind his ears.
He let out the tiniest, most reluctant purr.
“Oh my god,” you whispered, your grin growing. “You’re so cute like this.”
The purring immediately stopped, and Idia swatted your hand away with a mortified meow that screamed, Don’t push it.
It didn’t take long for you to realize Idia-the-cat was just as much of a shut-in as his human counterpart.
When you tried to offer him some cat toys Ortho had left behind, he ignored them completely—until you dangled a toy shaped like a gaming controller.
Then, he lunged at it with surprising ferocity, claws out and eyes gleaming with an intensity that said, This is serious business.
You had to stop him from knocking over his prized figurines while he chased the toy across the room.
“Idia, stop! That’s a limited edition!” you cried, diving to save a teetering anime girl statue.
Idia froze mid-pounce, his tail twitching guiltily.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” you said, setting the figure back on its shelf. “You’re worse than Grim.”
Idia meowed in protest, and you could swear he was rolling his eyes.
After a few hours of babysitting Cat Idia—during which he refused to eat anything but snacks from his secret stash and managed to trap himself inside a VR headset—you were completely exhausted.
You flopped onto his bed, sighing. “Idia, you're my friend, but you’re so much work.”
The cat jumped up beside you, curling into a surprisingly neat ball. His flame-like fur glowed softly in the dim light, and for a moment, he actually looked peaceful.
Unable to resist, you leaned over and pressed a quick kiss to his head.
There was a sudden flash of blue light, and you yelped as a very human—and very embarrassed—Idia Shroud appeared beside you.
“W-What just happened?!” he stammered, his face as red as his fiery hair tips.
You blinked at him, your brain struggling to reboot. “Uh… I think true love’s kiss broke the curse?”
Idia froze, his expression cycling between mortified and completely panicked.
“Wait, d-does that mean you… like me?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. “Because if you don’t, I-I’m just gonna go dig my own grave now—”
You cut him off with a laugh, your cheeks burning. “Yeah, I like you, you dummy.”
Idia stared at you, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. Then, after a moment, he managed a small, shy smile.
“I… like you too,” he mumbled, fiddling with a lock of his hair. “So, uh… do you maybe wanna… go out? Like, on a d-date or something?”
Your heart did a little flip. “I’d love that.”
From the doorway, Ortho peeked in, his face lighting up. “Brother, I knew you could do it! This is the best day ever!”
Idia groaned, burying his face in his hands. “Ortho, please!”
But despite his embarrassment, he couldn’t stop the small smile that lingered on his lips.
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Malleus Draconia
The day began like any other—except for the part where a massive dragon blocked the sunrise by parking itself right outside your window.
You blinked blearily, rubbing your eyes. Surely, this was a dream.
Then you heard an enthusiastic voice from below. "Good morning! Do you like your new dragon?"
You leaned out the window to see none other than Lilia Vanrouge, waving up at you with far too much cheer for this absurd situation. Beside him, Sebek was on his knees, his fists clenched, eyes practically bleeding tears of devotion—or frustration. Hard to tell with Sebek.
“Lilia,” you called down, “what the hell is that?” You pointed at the dragon, who was now looking at you with suspiciously familiar glowing green eyes.
“Oh, that’s Malleus!” Lilia replied, as though this was completely normal. “He seems to have had a little… magical mishap.”
“MISTAKE OF FATE, NOT A MISHAP!” Sebek roared, glaring up at you like it was somehow your fault. “AND THE YOUNG MASTER HAS CHOSEN YOU TO TEND TO HIS NOBLE FORM!”
You stared at the dragon—Malleus—again. His enormous tail thudded against the ground in what you could only assume was agreement.
“...You’ve got to be kidding me.”
After some coaxing (read: being dragged out by Sebek while you were still in your pajamas), you found yourself face-to-face with Dragon Malleus.
He lowered his massive head toward you, his glowing eyes narrowing in what you could only describe as smugness. When you hesitated, he huffed, a cloud of warm smoke billowing over you.
“Okay, okay, I get it! You want attention,” you grumbled, reaching up to pat his snout.
The dragon let out a low rumble of approval, curling his tail protectively around you.
Sebek sobbed dramatically in the background. “TO THINK THE YOUNG MASTER TRUSTS YOU ABOVE ALL OTHERS! IT IS BOTH AN HONOR AND A TRAVESTY!”
“Sebek, for the love of the Seven, stop yelling,” you snapped. “I already have a headache.”
Lilia chuckled from his perch on a nearby tree. “Oh, this is delightful. I wonder if I should be worried for you or amused by Malleus’s possessiveness.”
Dragon Malleus growled at Lilia, his tail sweeping protectively in front of you like a giant scaly barrier.
“Noted, noted!” Lilia said with a laugh, holding up his hands.
After a day of being followed around by a giant dragon who wouldn’t let you out of his sight (and growled at anyone who dared approach), you were officially at your wit’s end.
“Malleus,” you said, crossing your arms. “I know you’re stuck like this, but you can’t just… kidnap me for emotional support!”
Malleus blinked at you, his big dragon eyes somehow managing to look both sheepish and stubborn.
You sighed, stepping closer. “You’re kind of cute like this, though,” you admitted, reaching up to scratch his snout. His eyes half-closed in contentment, and you couldn’t help but laugh.
Then, on a whim, you leaned up and pressed a quick kiss to his scaly cheek.
There was a sudden burst of magic, and you stumbled back as the massive form of the dragon shimmered and shrank. In its place stood a very human—and very flustered—Malleus Draconia.
“Child of Man,” he said, his face uncharacteristically red. “Your… your kiss… it broke the spell.”
You stared at him, your brain buffering. “Wait, true love’s kiss was the answer?!”
Malleus nodded solemnly. “Indeed.”
From behind you, Lilia cackled. “Oh, how romantic! A tale for the ages!”
Sebek, meanwhile, looked like he was about to have a heart attack. “T-T-THE YOUNG MASTER’S TRUE LOVE?! UNBELIEVABLE!”
Malleus stepped closer, his expression softening as he looked down at you. “If this spell has revealed anything, it is that my feelings for you are genuine. Will you allow me to court you properly?”
You blinked, your face heating up. “Uh… yeah. Sure. But maybe next time, we skip the whole ‘giant possessive dragon’ thing?”
Malleus chuckled, taking your hand. “Anything for you, my treasure.”
Sebek fainted on the spot.
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chilumi-shipper · 5 months ago
Text
Soulbound
Zhongli x GN!Reader (Soulmate!AU)
Summary: Zhongli hated the mark on his neck, and he hated whoever the mark bounded him to. But fate plays a cruel joke, matching him with you, as he swore he would love no one else but Guizhong.
Tags: Angst/No Comfort, Short Story, Rejection, Hurtful Words, Hatred to Love
Soulmark - A mark that binds two individuals as soulmates.
~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~
Morax had always been frustrated by the mark on his neck.
A glowing, permanent part of his body that marks him tied to a soulmate. He thinks its stupid, for the love of his life was already in front of him, a gray-haired inventor that no carving in his body could ever stop him from adoring.
He finds it unbelievable that his neck is claimed by a soulmark yet Guizhong's remain blank, and he curses Celestia above for such a foul joke.
How could he be for anyone else but her?
When her dust settled in the field of glaze lilies he thought were incomparable to her beauty, he was utterly devasted, his clawed hands held onto his neck, wanting to rip the soulmark that had been taunting him for centuries.
How could he be marked for someone else while the love of his life laid lifeless?
He loathed his mark, everything about it, and he will till his last breath.
...
Zhongli deeply dislikes you.
You are a messy, silly, babbling buffoon.
An adventurer from Mondstadt that embodies the nation's will of freedom. Bubbly, carefree, and loud, much like a fellow god he didn't particularly like.
Despite of his disdain of you, your affection towards him never wavered. You filled his somber days with excitement as you joyfully tell him stories about your adventures, share some new recipes you've learned, even ushering him to talk about obscure Liyue historical facts that you've always found interesting.
He was much too proper to shoo you away, and his cold looks and short responses didn't discourage you to try to make friends with the man that peeked your curiosity.
Ever so slowly, you had pried open his caged heart, planting a small seed that was so distinctly you.
He would have accepted you, he would have seen you as a friend... and yet...
Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a faint, familiar mark on your neck, revealed when you put your hair up into a ponytail.
Zhongli knew he truly disliked you.
...
"I don't believe in the marks either, Mr. Zhongli..." You reasoned with him, but his gaze still stung you with daggers.
He caged himself back up, ensuring that you could not care for the little seed you planted, no light would be able to reach it again.
His heart would not open...
No matter how many times he catches himself smiling at your antics.
No matter if he displays every gift and trinket you give him from your travels.
No matter how much he preferred your cooking over anyone else's.
No matter how beautiful you look staring up at him with your doe eyes as you confess your affection.
No matter how frustrated he felt at himself when he made you cry as he rejects your feelings.
Because, for him, how could there be anyone else but her?
...
"Do you see why it could never be you?"
You both stood in front of a monument, surrounded by various plants and objects you assume to be from friends of this ancient goddess.
"I bet she was amazing."
"She was perfect. Perhaps that's why I was not worthy to share a mark with her."
At this point, you were used to his words, how they praise her, how they degrade you.
"You're pretty great too, Zhongli..."
Faith places identical marks on the necks of two soulmates, and the rest is a romantic story of the passion that builds up as people pursue their marks of love.
Fate is cruel to you and him.
"That mark is not for you, Y/N." The Geo Archon says to you, tearing you apart silently, as you stand and take his words.
His heart quivers despite the harsh words coming from his own mouth. Even after millennia of having the mark engraved on his neck, after concluding that maybe he would allow your little seed to prosper even just for a bit, he still chooses to cling onto his hopeless past.
Tears fall down from your eyes, but you remain quiet, only nodding in agreement.
You loathed the mark on your neck.
...
Zhongli opens the cage of his heart a little, allowing him to peak at the small sprout from the seed you planted.
So distinctly you, it was the only thing he has of you.
After letting you leave him at Guizhong's monument with tears still staining your face, he couldn't help but miss you.
He couldn't help but let you finally take your place in his heart, after so long of hating his soulmark, hating whoever the mark tied him to, he fears he has finally accepted faith.
...
"Where is it?" He grips your arm harshly, his hold not faltering as you try to shake him off. His gaze was cold, yet you could still catch the hint of alarm in his eyes. "What have you done?"
After weeks... you return to him... missing something.
You winced at the stress of his words, feeling frightened under his tense hold. "I..." His bruising grip didn't falter, urging you to explain yourself. "S-Surprise...?"
"You..." Zhongli looks at you in disbelief. "How stupid could you be?"
"M-Mr. Zhongli... it's a blessing of the Anemo Archon... I prayed for him set us free from fate."
"Y/N... I..." He was at a loss for words, his heart ached as his eyes searched your neck in vain. "Fate... going against it is painful. It must've been excruciating."
"It was... but this if for you, Zhongli..." You smiled, feeling him loosen his grip. "Because I love... loved you." You fully free yourself from him, rubbing at where he previously held you.
The wind around him picked up, and he hears the faint whispers of an old friend along with it. Whispers of comfort, as he clearly ruined what would have been the light of the rest of his days.
Your soulmark fades, but his remains...
Zhongli loathed his mark, for it bears no meaning, no one but him bears that mark.
As you leave, trying to fade away in the background of his life, you remain under a spotlight in his eyes, for you will always be the one that shares his mark, no matter if it is visible.
~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~
What y'all think of this one? :3
I bet y'all's feelings were hurt hehe
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xbellaxcarolinax · 2 years ago
Text
Scent
Miguel O’Hara X f!reader
Summary: It was an intoxicating scent. And he knew it was yours. (In which Miguel goes feral when you ovulate)
Word count: 4k+
Warnings: Language. Obvs. S m u t. Obvs. Oral, f receiving. P in V (no protection), cum eating. Cheesy probs. Reader says Miguel's name a lot lmfao not beta read.
Minors DNI.
Honestly, I don’t know how any of this stuff works. This is some bullshit and none of it makes sense. Enjoy.
...
Miguel was fucking losing it. 
He couldn’t focus, couldn’t keep his head on straight. There was a thick fog clouding his judgment, disorienting him like a fever he couldn’t sweat out.
It started with a scent.
Light at first, a barely there whiff of something. 
It lingered at HQ, trailing between passageways and different conference rooms. There were times when it didn't linger at all for weeks. Then it'd start right up again, progressively getting worse.
It was an intoxicating scent. And he knew it was yours. How could it not be when you spent the most time with him?
It happened once a month for a week at most, and like clockwork, his body reacted viciously, betraying him of all logical thoughts. Your scent seized him by the throat in a sort of chokehold. Some days were unbearable, your scent so strong that he’d have to fight with every muscle and nerve in his body not to touch you, to not bend you over and—
Well. That wasn't a healthy thought.
Recently (the last two months to be exact), he’d have to excuse himself and step out of the room for a few minutes whenever you’d arrive from your world to report for duty, sneaking off to the restroom to tug on his cock till he felt some relief. Images of you would flash in his mind: you on your knees with your lips wrapped around him, or the pained face he'd imagine would twist your features when sinking down on his thick length. He'd come in his hand, sticky ropes of white, using his release to coat his stiff length and go again.
He never truly felt satiated. It was something to keep his appetite at bay. But once he’d come back and face you he’d get hard all over again, drugged out on whatever smell it was that emanated off of you.
He’d salivate like a dog and his bulge would grow uncomfortably large in his skin-tight suit. It got to the point where he couldn’t face you, and whenever you’d greet him he’d return it with a simple grunt, giving you a clear view of his broad, imposing back. He never looked at you anymore unless to sneak in a quick glance and even then, it’d make his cock twitch in desperation, the head weeping, begging to be touched.
He was fucking feral, like a Neanderthal, primitive and obsessed.
You smelled rich, mildly tangy—not like the fruity perfumes some of the spider ladies wore around him. No, it was something else entirely, something earthy, like what he imagined was between your delicate legs. Like wet cunt ready to be taken. 
And God, did he want to take it.
"Miguel." 
He tensed up at the sound of your voice, running a hand through his unruly dark hair. Maybe the cafeteria at HQ wasn’t the best hiding spot.
It was the middle of the month—July fifteenth to be exact—which meant you had that smell again.
You were ovulating.
He knew enough about female anatomy to put the pieces together when he realized that about two weeks after his body reacted to your scent, you'd be in a terrible mood.
"What crawled up your ass?" He'd asked you once, keeping his eyes on all his monitors but immediately noting your discomfort. You sat on a chair beside him, head in your arms as you leaned on the desk.
He could feel you glaring daggers at his profile.
"Shut up. I'm on my period, asshole."
He did shut up after that.
Blood immediately began to rush toward his cock, bringing it to life.
You stood in front of him, one hand on your hip while the other held a plastic container from the empanada joint everyone had a taste for. 
"What?" Miguel uttered, keeping his eyes trained on a particular stain on the otherwise pristine white table. Any distraction was a welcomed distraction.
You pulled back the chair opposite of his, plopping down on it unceremoniously. The action sent waves of your aroma toward him like a crashing wave, engulfing him completely. He stiffened, dropping his head slightly while the heel of his hand pressed over his growing bulge. 
"You gonna tell me what the fuck is going on?" 
“I…don’t know what you’re talking about.” He said through gritted teeth, fangs visible when he grimaced. His scarlet eyes wandered over your face for a few seconds before he ripped them away, barely avoiding the twitch in your brow and the growing frown on your lips.
“Seriously?” You scoffed, “You’ve been avoiding me for, what, two months? I’m surprised I got a hold of you. You’re never in the cafeteria.” You ripped open the container, digging inside to grab the fried little snack. “Do we have a problem I’m not aware of?”
Miguel watched you take a bite of the empanada, committed to memory the way your tongue lapped at the grease coating your lips. His hand pressed harder over his cock, and at that moment he cursed himself for implementing the suit-only rule. He could really use a pair of sweatpants right now.
“Well? Do we?” You challenged him, defiant as always. You had this look in your eye that he’s seen before—your adrenaline was about to kick into overdrive. Always ready for a fight.
He sighed, shaking his head, willing himself to breathe. He felt sweat begin to bead across his hairline, strands of his hair sticking down the sides of his face. Your scent was becoming unbearable, overwhelming him to the point where he felt lightheaded. He licked his dry lips, carelessly running the tip of his tongue over his sharp canines only to pierce through the delicate muscle. The salty taste of iron exploded in his mouth and he grunted, pinching his eyes shut in frustration. 
"Mig."
“No!” He finally barked, slamming a fist over the table. It shook from the weight of his large hand, the empty container almost flying off the surface. You went wide-eyed for a moment at his outburst before pressing the last bite of your snack between your lips, unfazed.
“It clearly doesn’t seem that way,” you replied calmly, but the twitch in your brow remained and your eyes narrowed. You wiped your mouth and fingers with a brown recyclable napkin meticulously, “if you have a problem, say so.”
One thing you had in common with Miguel was your bluntness. You always cut to the chase, saying what you needed to without much thought. It was one of the things that he appreciated in a fellow spider person but right now it only served to irritate him. That last thing he wanted was to deal with someone as fucking stubborn as him.
He must've looked like hell because when you regarded him, the hardness in your eyes softened immensely as if only just realizing his disheveled appearance. You went to touch his hand over the table but he snatched it away before you could, glaring. 
"You don't look so good,” you reasoned quietly, stung by his actions, “d’you need some help?”
"M'fine."
"I don't think—"
"Listen to me very carefully," Miguel hissed, nose flaring and skin burning hot, "I need you to get away from me." 
"What—"
"I'm not gonna tell you again," he seethed, cock struggling to break free from the constraints of his suit, "Go. Leave."
You were stunned into silence, tapping your fingers over the table awkwardly before grabbing your mess and leaving without another word.
Miguel watched you leave with a groan, dropping his head back in aggravation.
He was so fucked.
You hadn't shown up to HQ in a while. He couldn't blame you. 
While that should've been a win for Miguel, it wasn't. Sure, the violent attacks on his body had diminished somewhat, but now, just because you weren’t around as much didn’t mean you didn’t leave his thoughts for a second.
He could've called you—had that stupid watch to contact you—see if you were okay. But his pride assaulted him every time he so much as glanced at his watch. 
His thoughts circulated and continued, imagining you in all the positions he wanted to put you in, which landed him back in the restroom for a daily cock tug when he should’ve been working.
The spiderverse needed to be controlled and admittingly, you were one of the best on his team. You were stealthy and intelligent—he needed you more than he'd cared to admit.
And...he missed you.
But you were off fighting crime and restoring the peace in your universe—at least that was the excuse you'd given him, only showing face when it was absolutely necessary.
Which, as of late, wasn’t very necessary.
And still, he suffered.
...
Earth- 0708. 
A shit show of a universe where the height of winter was in the middle of fucking August. It was snowing, small tufts of flurries lightly coating the ground in white.
Miguel knew exactly where to find you. Sunnyside, Lowery Street off the seven train. On the corner of a bodega by the broken lamp post. He could walk to your apartment complex blind if he really wanted to.
And there it was. He could smell you upon arriving—through the concrete and rusty red brick, up the five floors to your window—he could smell you. His hands shook (not from the cold) as his claws gripped the aging wall, his cock doing its usual swelling.
You must have sensed him immediately, slamming your bedroom window open and peering out into the darkness before he could even make it to your window. The cold wind blew and carried your scent. Mierda. 
“Miguel?” You called out, squinting down at him as he scaled the dusty brick wall. When he finally came face to face with you, he lowered his mask, revealing his flushed face and sweat-slicked hair. He could see his breath come out in short, little puffs.
“You couldn’t use the front door like a normal person?” You asked with a roll of your eyes, crossing your arms.
“When were we ever normal people?” It was meant to come out smooth as butter but Miguel’s voice was hoarse, throat seemingly drier than the Sahara. He cleared it, stepping through the window, turning around to quickly slam it shut. He was concentrating, forcing himself to take a deep breath before turning around to face you, except, you were already gone, disappearing deeper into your apartment.
He grunted, rubbing his eyes. He thought he’d gotten better at controlling himself. The gentle breathing helped, but it didn’t mean he wasn’t struggling to keep his cock under control. It twitched a few times, and he groaned, exiting your bedroom. It was now or never.
You were in your tiny kitchen, stirring a cup of tea while the TV in the living room softly played some sitcom he remembered you were into. You were in a black hoodie and gray sweats, your hair messily thrown up in a ponytail. He’d seen you this way more than he could count. When did you become so pretty? Miguel didn’t understand it. You were under his nose this whole time, and he never really looked at you. Well, that was wrong. He did, of course, he did, but he never indulged. He was too much of a workaholic for that.
“What do you want?” You asked, monotoned, “I took care of all the bad guys so I know you're not here for that.” You propped your elbows on your kitchen counter, resting your chin in the palm of your hand as you peered up at him. You’d always told him he looked massive in your apartment as if his shoulders would cave the entire place in, and now, with you looking at him like that—all doe eyes and confusion—just a tiny thing, well…his cock twitched.
He swallowed thickly, jaw tense as he looked away from you to collect himself.
“I gotta ask you somethin'.” The words rushed out of his mouth, the flashing images on the TV seemingly more interesting to him than anything else.
“Shoot.” 
“It’s… gonna sound weird, bare with me.”
“O…kay.” 
Miguel turned away from you as he always did, hoping to curb his sweltering need to take you against your wall like a beast. “Are you ovulating?” It was quiet for a beat, and his heart flew into his throat in pure mortification.
“What?” 
“You heard me, I’m not repeating it again.” 
“Miguel, what the fuck—” 
“Just—answer the Goddamn question, por favor.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, bowing his head in frustration. He felt hot, his body burning as if molten lava flowed through his veins. His tone must have done something because when he looked over his shoulder you were on your phone tapping a few buttons.
“...Yes,” you finally answered, bringing your gaze to meet his half-lidded eyes, “according to my app.” 
“Mierda,” He groaned, dropping his head in his hands, “fuck. Okay.” 
“You gonna tell me what’s going on, Miguel?”
“And you ovulate mid-month? Between the twelfth and sixteenth? No don’t—don’t look at me like that, please,” Miguel choked as he began to pace back and forth, ignoring the incredulous look on your face that was both humiliating and overwhelmingly arousing at the same time, “Just—just answer.” Another beat of silence engulfed you both as you searched the information through your period tracker with a shaky hand.
“Uhh, yeah, t-that’s right.” You placed your phone down on the counter, your tea now cold and long forgotten. “Mig…what’s with the questions? How d’you even know that?”
He finally paused his steps to run a hand through his hair before facing you from a safe distance, hoping you wouldn’t notice the growing erection burning hot between his legs from the angle he was in. If you noticed the large space between you both, you didn’t mention it.
“I haven’t been ignoring you,” you snorted at the comment, and again, he pinched the bridge of his nose, “I haven’t been ignoring you by choice, me entiendes?” 
“So what is it then?” You took a couple of steps closer while he took a couple of steps back.
“It’s your scent—you smell so fucking good and it's driving fucking crazy, muñeca.” 
“I-I don’t understand, Mig, what—”
“Look, I don’t understand it either,” he ran a hand through his locks again and again as if ready to rip the strands off, “all I know is you have a…scent when you ovulate every month…and, well…” he dropped both arms to his sides, standing there like an idiot as you stepped closer to drink him in. Your eyes traced him over, his broad shoulders and muscled arms, his thick thighs, and his engorged co—
“M-Miguel?” Your gaze was pinned to his bulge, pushing against the confines of his suit. “Why didn't you tell me anything?”
The question made him burn—made him bare his fangs and curl his hands into tight fists.
"What did you expect?” He spat, pacing again, “How was I gonna tell you some shit like this?" He licked his lips, his body feeling feverish. If he didn't leave soon he was sure to do something he'd regret.
“Miguel, come here.” He ignored you, much too irritated and embarrassed to do anything but just stand there. His jaw clicked, the bone shifting under the skin as he grinded his teeth in frustration. He could hear your footsteps padding softly behind him until you stood in front of him, craning your neck just to make eye contact.
It was unbearable being in your presence. He was going lightheaded again, the arousal almost blinding.
“Mig? D-did you need some help?” You whispered, your fingers ghosting over his chiseled abdomen, ready to trail lower but his large hand gripped you by the wrist, halting your movements.
“No.” He choked, “I’m not gonna force you to do something you don’t want to. Just came to tell you.”
“What if I want to?” You continued, lifting your free hand to press your warm palm over his heaving chest, “What if I told you I’ve wanted to do this for a long time?” 
Miguel hissed as soon as you cupped his erection, gently rubbing your palm up and down the smooth surface of his bulge, hidden behind the silky fabric of his suit.
“Poor Miguel—all this suffering, all this grief, when all you needed was for me to relieve you,” you tutted, feeling how incredibly hard he was, “so I have a scent, huh?” Miguel groaned, his head lolling to the side as he watched your careful movements. The friction wasn’t enough, but it was more than he could have asked for in the last few months. His hand was nothing compared to yours. “What do I smell like then?”
“Like wet pussy,” he swallowed thickly, hands fighting the urge to grip you by the waist, “smells amazing, muñeca.” He hissed again when you gripped him firmly.
“Yeah?” You smiled, your eyes just as hooded as his, “And what do you want to do to me?” 
A growl rumbled in his chest. Without saying another word, he pushed you back against the closest wall, caging you in his large arms.
“You have no idea the things I want to do to you.” He whispered, brushing the tip of his nose over yours. Your eyes fluttered, lips parting to take the tiniest breaths, chest heaving in arousal. 
“Show me.” You breathed before Miguel kissed you. He curled around you, sealing you away from everything that wasn’t him. Your scent had his head buzzing, had him licking wildly into your mouth, his fangs grazing your skin more times than you could count. 
He pawed at your hoodie, his claws sinking into the black fibers of the fabric. “Do you care about this?” He said between kisses, skimming the delicate skin underneath.
“It was an ex-boyfriend’s.” You yelped when Miguel tore into the hoodie immediately, ripping apart the seams with ease. You weren't wearing a t-shirt underneath, leaving you bare above the waist.
“Not important then.” He muttered, tossing the thick shreds of fabric aside in favor of touching your bare skin. He noted your eyes, how blown your pupils were at his actions. You were cold, nipples pebbling and goosebumps forming over your arms. Miguel cooed, his thumbs reaching out to rub the sensitive nubs on your chest, tugging them between his fingers. Your head fell back against the wall, a mewl escaping you. 
“Miguel,” you moaned, arching your body into his skillful hands. He brought you flushed against him, pressing his face into your neck and licking a stripe up to your ear.
“¿Qué pasó, hermosa? I barely touched you,” Miguel chuckled, lifting you up in his arms with ease and walking to your bedroom. He threw you on your bed, and within seconds, your sweats were pulled down with your panties, hastily tossed to the side. 
He observed you like a beast on the hunt, eyes trained on your glistening cunt. There it was, the source of his misfortunes for all those months, weeping and swollen with arousal, just waiting to be fucked. His mouth watered, watching you slowly swirl your fingers between your folds, coating two digits with your slick before presenting them to him.
“Wanna taste?”
He saw how your juices clung to your fingers like glossy webs when you wiggled them toward him. He kneeled in front of you, gripping your wrist in his hand and lapping at your essence, plunging your fingers into his mouth. He moaned in relief as if tasting you was the cure to every issue he'd encountered.
You gasped, mouth slightly ajar as you watched him. It was so obscene how this man took pleasure from your taste alone, coating your fingers entirely in his spit. You whined, the sensation of his tongue causing your cunt to flutter, desperate to be filled.
“Miguel,” you whined, “get rid of the suit.” He chuckled over your fingers, letting you feel the tip of his fang over the soft pads before releasing them with a gentle pop. He stood to his full height, dwarfing you, glowing in that suit of his. Slowly, the tech that held his suit together scurried down the length of his body like falling stars until he was completely nude. His cock sprung forward, finally released from its prison, standing large and proud.
“Oh my god,” Miguel heard you mutter, saw how your eyes were trained on the angry red tip, shining with precome. His chest puffed with pride. You licked your lips, mind already set on the task you'd given yourself. You moaned, desperate for a taste of him.
He didn't give you much time to react, surging forward to place a hand around your delicate throat, putting the slightest bit of pressure before pushing you down flat. 
"Next time. I need to taste you." His eyes were glowing, burning red in the dim lighting of your bedroom. He knelt again, grabbing your hips firmly and pulling you roughly toward the edge of the bed before devouring your cunt like a starved man.
"Shit," you cried, hands immediately tugging on his hair as you threw your head back, "M-Miguel." He was insatiable, tongue swirling around your clit several times before lapping at your soaked folds, moaning at the tangy taste. 
"Que rico," he muttered to himself, the vibrations of his voice over your cunt causing you to cry out. He continued his assault, dipping his tongue into your hole, a testament of what was to come. Then, without warning, he plunged his middle finger inside, immediately hitting something that made you see stars. You choked and heaved, pulling at his hair as he fucked you with his thick finger while sucking on your clit.
"Fuuuck, Miguel, I-I think I'm—" you threw your head back, eyes rolling as you came, gushing all over Miguel's mouth and hand. You trembled, almost sobbing when he hadn't let up, feasting on your juices as his finger continued to thrust into you.
"M-Miguel, I can't," you whined, your hands fighting to lift his head away from your aching cunt, but he ignored you, too drunk on your taste to stop. He carefully added a second finger, easily finding a rhythm to thrust into you. The stretch had you gasping for air, thighs trembling on either side of his head. If two fingers were too much for you then his cock would surely be a challenge.
Miguel's eyes were closed, tongue hungrily lapping at the wetness you produced, and within seconds had you falling apart with a wicked moan. Your cunt squeezed his two fingers when you came again, coating his hand and chin with your slick. You sobbed, begging him to stop, and he did, placing a wet kiss on each of your inner thighs before carefully pulling his fingers out.
"Look at me, hermosa." You hiccupped, craning your neck to look at Miguel with blurry eyes. He already had his red gaze pinned on you, and when he had your attention he placed his cum coated fingers into his mouth, humming in approval at the taste.
You were mesmerized, not even fucked by his cock yet but somehow already drunk on the anticipation. You whimpered, watching him lap up the last of your juices on his fingers.
"M-miguel?"
"You taste so fucking good," he growled with a shake of his head, pushing his face into your pulsating cunt one more time to breathe in your intoxicating scent. His hot breath over your pussy made your toes curl, sighing in contentment when he placed a quick kiss on your swollen clit.
Miguel climbed on the bed, caging your hips with his muscular thighs. His cock slid against your folds, your slick already lubricating him. You were still shaking, your hands now finding purchase on his biceps.
"¿Estás bien, amor?" He asked, leaning down to pepper kisses over your tear stained face. He was getting sappy, he knew. He couldn't help it, not with the way you came so pretty for him.
"Mhm," you sighed, letting him arrange your trembling legs over his hips, his cock pressing more firmly into your aching wet core. 
"Good." He spit on his hand and ran it over his stiff shaft a few times before pushing your thighs up so that your knees touched your shoulders, effectively folding you in half. He lined up the head, ready to push in, but stopped when he heard you whimper.
"It's been a while, Miguel," you explained with wet eyes, "I haven't...in a while a-and you're so big—"
"It's okay, I know you can take me, hm?" Miguel brushed a few damp strands away from your sweaty face. He leaned down to kiss you, and he knew you could taste yourself on his lips. It made his cock twitch over you, and with no further delay he notched the head of his cock into your hole, slowly pushing in.
You moaned, eyebrows knitting at the stretch of him. He panted, pushing inch by devastating inch, all the while watching your face for any signs. You were falling apart, eyes screwed shut and nails digging into the meat of his arms.
"I can't," you choked, your hips fighting against the offending pain, but Miguel was quick in securing you in place, continuing to spear you with his cock, "M-Miguel, y-your too big, it's too much!"
"Shhh, hermosa, si puedes," Miguel closed his eyes for a moment, relishing in the way your cunt fluttered over him, fighting to take him in, "look how good you're doing for me, mm, así mismo." 
He pushed deeper, swallowing your cries with a kiss as he bottomed out, his balls pressing nicely against your ass. 
"¿Ves? " He cooed, bumping his nose against yours as you whimpered, "I told you, you could do it." He chuckled at your glare, kissing you again before thrusting experimentally into you.
You moaned, tossing your head back, exposing your throat. You felt full to the brim, completely stuffed. Miguel wasted no time surging forward to lick and nip at your neck as he moved above. Each thrust shook your bed, the springs of your mattress coming to life as Miguel fucked you deeper. Your pussy was drenched, soaking his cock as he glided in and out of you effortlessly. The stretch burned but it was delicious, and Miguel knew you were cock drunk when your mouth fell open, tears running down your cheeks.
"¿Así te gusta, hermosa?" Miguel moaned, his breath fanning over your skin as he pounded deeply into you. His cock reached something within you that had a sob ripping from your throat.
"Oh my God," you whined, feeling the constant slap, slap, slap of his balls against your ass, "Fuuuck."
"That's the spot?" He heaved, his fangs glistening with saliva, "That's where you want it?" He continued his relentless pace, hitting that spot with precision over and over again. The sounds of your squelching pussy made him feral, slamming into you until you screamed, watching you fall apart before his eyes.
You came hard, gushing all over his cock, vision blurry and head in the clouds. Miguel helped you ride your high until you were nothing more than a quivering mess below him, sobbing as he continued to thrust before emptying his load inside you.
He grunted, head tossed back as he pressed his hips tightly against you, filling you up with everything he had. 
"Fuck," he groaned, pausing to give himself a moment to breathe before slowly fucking his cum into you. It was too much, leaking out of your hole and over his cock, soaking into the sheets below. "Even better than I imagined." He muttered, shifting to pepper kisses all over your face again. You sighed in content, feeling comfortable in the way his cock was still nestled in you.
"¿Estás bien, muñeca?" Miguel asked, dropping his forehead against yours. He still had you folded in half, his large arms on either side of you. You nodded with a sigh, turning your head to place a chaste kiss on the inside of his wrist.
"Good," he grinned, gently snapping his hips against your ass, letting more of his spend leak from your hole, "cuz I'm not done with you yet."
29K notes · View notes
butterfliesandwendigos · 4 months ago
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𖥔 ࣪ ᥫ᭡ꗃ⋆࣪. BEFORE — Josh Washington
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SUMMARY — a rekindled romance with Josh Washington leads to a night of pleasure and requited feelings for one another.
W/C — 6k.
NOTES — written in 2nd person POV, includes smut, smut, SMUT, lowkey a bit of fluff, considering writing a part two involving josh’s psycho prank reveal.
PART ONE | PART TWO
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The tension in the room escalates as a heavy silence settles over the group, and the cold air reflects the unease on everyone’s faces. The atmosphere grows thick with unspoken words, and the other friends exchange worried glances, unsure how to intervene in Emily and Jessica’s argument.
Standing in the centre of the room, Josh senses the confrontation spiralling out of control. He takes a deep breath, determination flickering in his eyes as he steps forward, his voice attempting to cut through the mounting anxiety.
“Mike, why don’t you check out the guest cabin? The one I told you about,” he suggests, trying to redirect the group’s attention away from the simmering conflict.
Looking at Jess with an eagerness that masks his concern, Mike jumps at the chance to shift gears. “Yeah, alright. Want to go do that?” he asks Jess, his tone light but tinged with hope.
Still bitter and glaring daggers at Emily, Jess responds with a sharp edge. “Any place without that whore,” she retorts, her voice dripping with disdain. Her eyes flicker to Emily, who stands rigid, hurt and anger swirling in her gaze.
Emily’s fists clench at her sides as she takes in Jess's words. “Wow, Jess. Classy,” she fires back, her voice strained as she struggles to maintain her composure.
Caught between the two, Josh tries to keep the mood light, though disappointment hangs heavy in his heart. “It’s right up the trail,” he chimes in, glancing nervously between them, desperate to diffuse the situation.
Mike, feeling the weight of Jess’s glare, takes her hand and pulls her gently away from the tension. “Let’s go,” he says, leading her toward the door, eager to escape the simmering conflict behind them.
As Jess and Mike step outside, the door clicks shut, leaving a heavy silence in the lodge. The warmth from the fireplace feels suddenly distant, and the atmosphere is charged with unresolved tension. Emily stands frozen for a moment, her heart racing with betrayal and anger, her body trembling as she processes the sting of jealousy.
Josh shakes his head slowly, disappointment etched as he watches Mike and Jess walk away. His eyes linger on Emily, concern flaring up as he witnesses the distress radiating from her. The remaining friends exchange uneasy looks, each uncertain how to navigate the sudden rift that has opened.
Matt, Emily’s boyfriend, stares at her with concern and confusion. He’s distressed by her jealousy, feeling her emotions pressing down on him. “Em, are you okay?” he finally asks, his voice hesitant, trying to bridge the gap between them.
Emily's expression hardens, turns on Matt, frustration spilling out in a flood. “I can’t believe this. I can’t believe you’ll let her treat me like that! And do you know where my pink bag from the rodeo is?” she demands, her voice rising with agitation.
Matt is caught off guard and hesitates before responding. “Uh, I don’t know… I thought you had it with you,” he replies, unsure how to react to her outburst.
Emily’s eyes flash with anger. “Well, I don’t! So we need to find it. Now!” she insists, her tone leaving little room for argument.
With a heavy sigh, Matt nods, resigned to her request. “Okay, let’s look for it,” he replies, attempting to keep his voice steady, even as uncertainty lingers in his gaze.
Across the room, Sam, sensing the tension, tries to control her situation. “I’m going to have a nice, warm bath,” she announces, her voice breaking through the thick silence. “Maybe some relaxation will help.” She gives the group a small smile but does little to ease the tension.
As the air in the lodge remains heavy with tension, Josh takes it upon himself to bring some warmth back into the space. He moves toward the fireplace, fumbling with kindling and logs, determined to ignite a fire that can literally and metaphorically chase away the chill. He strikes a match, watching it flicker momentarily before it catches, the flame dancing to life.
His eyes search yours, filled with a mix of hope and vulnerability. At that moment, the noise of the lodge fades into the background, and it feels like the two of you are the only ones left in the room, standing on the precipice of a more profound connection amidst the chaos of friendship and rivalry.
Meanwhile, Ashley and Chris sit together in the corner of the room, their eyes darting nervously around the space. The silence between them stretches, filled only by the crackling of the match against the wood.
Ashley fidgets with the sleeve of her sweater, her cheeks flushed slightly. “It’s pretty intense, right?” she replies, trying to keep her tone light despite the seriousness of the situation. “I never thought it would get that heated. We’re supposed to be here to have fun, not fight.”
“Yeah,” Chris agrees, scratching the back of his neck. “It’s like, one minute we’re all friends, and the next… everyone’s at each other’s throats.” He glances over at Josh, who is still wrestling with the logs in the fireplace, trying to coax a flame to grow. “You think he’s going to be okay? I mean, he’s trying so hard to keep things together.”
Ashley nods, her eyes following Josh’s movements. “I hope so. He’s a good guy, you know? He wants everyone to have a good time. It’s just… hard to watch everyone fight like this.”
Chris, sensing a moment of connection, leans in a little closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “I appreciate how you always try to keep things positive. I wish I could be more like that sometimes.”
Ashley looks at him, her heart fluttering a little at the compliment. “Thanks, Chris. That means a lot,” she replies softly, a shy smile creeping onto her face.
Before they can delve deeper into their conversation, Sam returns down the stairs, a towel draped over her shoulder. She looks a bit flustered, running a hand through her damp hair. “Hey, guys,” she calls out, her voice bright but tinged with frustration. “I just checked the bath, and the gas is off, so the water’s cold. Great, right?”
Josh is still focused on getting the fire to catch and grimaces. “Seriously? That’s not what I needed to hear right now,” he mutters, finally coaxing a small flame into existence.
Sam rolls her eyes playfully, trying to lighten the mood. “Yeah, let’s just add it to the list of things going wrong tonight.”
Josh, however, takes the news in stride and turns toward you with a spark of determination in his eyes. “Y/N, how about we go to the basement and check the gas? It shouldn’t be too complicated, and I could use the extra hands.”
Ashley and Chris exchange glances, their conversation momentarily forgotten. “Do you think you can fix it?” Chris asks, his brow furrowed in concern.
Josh nods confidently, but there’s a hint of uncertainty beneath the bravado. “Yeah, it’s probably just a quick adjustment.”
Sam shrugs, a smile returning to her face. “I’ll keep an eye on the fire for you guys. Just don’t blow anything up, okay?”
“Promise,” Josh replies, flashing a grin as he heads toward the basement door, glancing back at you. “You coming, Y/N?”
Josh’s hopeful gaze offers a chance for distraction, perhaps even a moment to connect without the chaos of the others hanging overhead.
“Yeah, I’m in,” you respond, pushing off from your seat. You can’t help but feel a rush of adrenaline at the idea of stepping away from the drama and into the unknown of the basement with Josh.
He smiles, a mixture of relief and excitement crossing his features. “Awesome. Let’s go.”
Together, you head toward the basement door, the creaky wood floorboards echoing softly behind you. As Josh opens the door, a rush of cool air greets you, starkly contrasting the lodge's warmth. The darkness beyond is thick, with only a few dim lights flickering in the distance.
“Do you have a flashlight?” you ask, glancing back at him.
“Yeah, I got one,” he replies, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small, rugged flashlight. He flicks it on, illuminating a narrow staircase that leads down into the gloom.
You descend the stairs together, the light casting long shadows against the stone walls. The air grows more relaxed, a bit musty, filled with the scent of old wood and dust. As you reach the bottom, the beam reveals an assortment of old furniture covered in sheets, boxes piled high, and the occasional rustle of a rat scurrying away.
“Welcome to the dungeon,” Josh jokes, trying to keep the atmosphere light as he sweeps the flashlight across the room. “Quite the sight, huh?”
You chuckle, appreciating his attempt at humour. “At least it’s not filled with creepy dolls or something.”
Josh nods, stepping further inside. “Let’s see if we can figure out what’s going on with the gas.” He moves to a panel on the wall, inspecting it closely. “It shouldn’t be too complicated. Just a valve adjustment, I think.”
You step closer, watching him with a mix of admiration and concern. He looks determined, his brow slightly furrowed in concentration as he kneels to get a better look at the mechanism. The moment feels profound and fragile as you and Josh exchange lingering glances. But the sudden crash from the living room jolts you back into the present. You shake your head, trying to clear your thoughts and take a deep breath.
“I think it came from upstairs,” you reply, your pulse quickening as your heart races. “Should we check it out?”
Josh hesitates, glancing toward the stairs. “Maybe we should finish with the gas first? If it’s nothing, we don’t want to leave it unattended.”
You nod, trying to push aside the unease creeping into your thoughts. “Right, let’s focus on this first.”
With renewed determination, you both turn your attention back to the valve. After a few moments of adjustments and checking gauges, Josh finally gives a satisfied nod. “I think that should do it. Let’s head back upstairs and let them know.”
As you return to the stairs, the unsettling feeling in your gut lingers, amplifying the sense that something isn’t right. The sounds of the lodge—laughter, tension, muffled voices—float down to you, becoming a mix of reassurance and dread.
Just as you reach the top of the stairs, another loud noise reverberates through the lodge, a sharp sound like something heavy being knocked over. You exchange worried glances with Josh, both of you feeling the shift in the atmosphere.
“What was that?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.
“I don’t know,” Josh replies, his tone serious as he tightens his grip on the flashlight. “But we need to find out.”
With that, you both step back into the main room, the previous tensions overshadowed by an unfamiliar fear. The crackling of the fire is drowned out by hurried footsteps and raised voices, the friends agitated by whatever’s happening.
“Did you hear that?” Josh asks, his eyes darting around the room.
You nod, feeling the weight of the unknown pressing down on you. “We need to stick together,” you suggest a quiet resolve forming between you.
“Stay behind me,” he replies, stepping closer as you prepare to confront whatever lurks in the shadows. The night is far from over, and the real challenge has only begun.
Just as you reach the bottom of the stairs, a sudden flash of colour catches your eye. Before you can react, Chris bursts into the hallway, wearing a ridiculous, oversized bathrobe with a floppy hat and fuzzy slippers. He strikes a dramatic pose, grinning widely.
“Behold! The Phantom of the Lodge!” he exclaims, his voice booming as he swings his arms for effect.
You jump back, letting out a surprised yelp. Instinctively, you grab Josh’s arm, clinging to him tightly as your heart races. “Oh my God, Chris! You scared me!”
Josh chuckles, his initial shock melting into laughter as he steadies you. “Seriously, man? This is the best you could come up with?”
Chris leans into his performance, spinning around in the robe and throwing his hands up. “What? You don’t like my haunting style? I thought I’d bring some fun to this dreary evening!”
You can’t help but laugh, the night's tension momentarily dissipating as you release Josh’s arm, albeit reluctantly. “I mean, if the ghost you’re trying to scare is one of my nightmares, then sure, it’s working!”
Josh shakes his head, still smiling. “You need to get better at hiding, Chris. That was way too easy.”
Chris pretends to be offended, placing a hand over his heart. “Easy? I’m a master of scare tactics! Just look at my costume!” He twirls again, the robe billowing dramatically around him. “If I were a real ghost, I’d have you all quaking in your boots!”
Josh rolls his eyes but can’t help but smile at Chris’s antics. “You might want to reconsider your career choices, buddy. You’re more likely to make us laugh than scream.”
The lighthearted banter creates a much-needed distraction, and the tension from earlier seems to fade a bit. You take a deep breath, feeling more at ease, though you still chuckle as Chris prays around in his ridiculous outfit.
“Okay, okay, you’ve had your fun,” you say, finally regaining your composure. “But seriously, let’s focus. We must check on the others and see what’s happening.”
Chris drops the act, his playful demeanour shifting to concern. “Right, right. I just thought a little laughter would lighten the mood. Things have been pretty intense tonight.”
“Yeah, they have,” Josh agrees, his expression turning serious again. “But let’s get back out there and have some fun.”
As you enter the main room, the lingering echoes of laughter from Chris’s antics fade into the background, replaced by the familiar tension that still lingers among the group. You glance at Josh, feeling the weight of your unresolved feelings.
“Hey, Josh,” you say, lowering your voice to ensure Chris doesn’t overhear. “Can we talk for a second? Like… about last year?”
Josh’s expression shifts, a mix of curiosity and concern. “Sure. What do you want to talk about?”
You take a deep breath, trying to find the right words. “I just… I feel like we’ve both been avoiding it. Everything that happened before...”
His gaze softens, the vulnerability in his eyes mirroring your own. “Before my sisters disappeared.”
Just then, Chris, standing a few feet away, suddenly perks up. He catches Josh’s eye and raises an eyebrow, a knowing smirk spreading across his face. “Uh, I’ll be waiting over there,” he says, gesturing to a corner of the room. “You two take your time.”
You can’t help but smile at Chris’s teasing, but Josh rolls his eyes, a hint of embarrassment colouring his cheeks. “Thanks, Chris. We’ll try to keep it brief,” he replies, trying to suppress a grin.
As Chris saunters away, you turn back to Josh, feeling a rush of nervous energy. “So, where do we even start?” you ask, glancing around to ensure no one else is listening.
“I guess we start with the fact that I missed you,” he admits, his voice low and sincere. “When everything happened, my only focus was on finding my sisters. But I’ve thought about you a lot and regret not saying anything sooner.”
You feel your heart flutter at his words. “I missed you too. I didn’t want to complicate things when you already dealt with so much.”
“I know,” he replies, his expression pained. “And I appreciate you allowing me time to heal with my parents. Last year was such a mess. I’m just glad you had nothing to do with Hannah’s prank,” Josh admits, stepping towards you.
“Never, I could never have anything to do with that,” You say softly, giving him a warm smile.
He nods, his gaze unwavering. “I know. It would’ve hurt me a lot if you did.”
After a few moments, you poke some fun at the tension lingering from the past. “You know,” you say playfully, “I couldn’t have possibly been part of Hannah’s prank. Thanks to you last year, I was too busy being in a compromising position.”
Josh raises an eyebrow, a grin spreading across his face. “Oh really? Care to elaborate on that?”
You can feel the moment's weight hanging in the air, the tension from earlier dissipating as you lock eyes with Josh. The connection between you feels electric, and for a fleeting moment, the chaos of the lodge fades into the background.
You raise an eyebrow, a smile creeping onto your lips. “Are you trying to charm me, Josh?”
“Maybe,” he replies, leaning slightly closer, his tone dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “I’ve been known to have that effect on people. And honestly, what sane woman could resist it?”
Josh glances back to ensure no one is watching before he reaches out, gently brushing your arm with his hand. “Let’s go upstairs,” he says, his voice low and inviting.
As you both make your way toward the staircase, a voice interrupts your moment. Chris and Ashley round the corner, eyebrows raised in unison.
“Hey! Where are you two sneaking off to?” Chris calls out, a teasing grin spreading across his face.
You exchange a glance with Josh; both are caught off guard. “Uh, just... checking out the view from upstairs!” you manage to say, attempting to sound casual.
“Yeah, you know,” Josh adds quickly, “the top floor has the best spot for stargazing. I just wanted to make sure we don’t miss it.
Ashley leans in, her expression sceptical. “Right. Because you two need alone time for stargazing.” She smirks, clearly not buying it.
Josh nods, his grin still plastered on his face. “Yeah, we just want to hang out for a bit. You know how it is—sometimes you need a break from the chaos.”
Chris and Ashley exchange a knowing look, and you can’t help but feel your cheeks heat up under their scrutiny. “All right, all right,” Chris finally concedes, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Just don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” you reply, rolling your eyes, a grin breaking through.
With one last playful eye-roll from Ashley and an exaggerated sigh from Chris, they leave you and Josh standing at the base of the stairs.
You and Josh make your way down the dimly lit hallway, the faint sound of the wind howling outside, barely breaking the heavy silence. The air feels cold against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. You instinctively lean closer to him, and he responds by wrapping his arm around your shoulders, pulling you in a little tighter to keep you warm.
“Is it just me, or does it feel like this place gets colder the further we walk?” you joke, trying to lighten the mood despite the chill.
Josh chuckles softly, glancing down at you. “Yeah but don’t worry, I’ve got you.” He squeezes you gently, his warmth radiating through his skin, making you feel more at ease.
As you approach his room, the door looks more inviting against the shadows filling the hallway. Josh stops just outside, looking down at you with a hint of nervousness in his eyes. He turns the handle and opens the door, revealing a cozy space with warm lighting, the comforting scent of wood, and something faintly sweet. As he steps inside, you follow him, and he quickly shuts the door behind you, locking it with a soft click.
Once inside, the atmosphere shifts. The hallway's darkness is replaced by the warm glow of a bedside lamp, illuminating the room and casting soft shadows on the walls. It feels intimate and safe here.
Josh’s gaze drops to your lips briefly, and everything shifts in that instant. The air between you crackles with electricity, and before you can process it, he closes the distance, cupping your face gently with his hands.
Time seems to slow as he leans in, his breath warm against your skin. You can feel the butterflies in your stomach flutter wildly as your heart races. And then, his lips find yours, soft and tentative at first, as if testing the waters.
You respond instinctively, leaning into him, your hands finding their way to his hair, pulling him closer. The kiss deepens, becoming more passionate as the tension and unspoken feelings from before surging to the surface. It feels natural as if this moment has been building for far longer than the few minutes you’ve been alone. The warmth of his body envelops you, and you lose yourself in the sensation, the world outside fading entirely from your mind.
When you finally pull away, breathless, you look into Josh’s eyes, searching for the same emotions you feel swirling inside you. His cheeks are flushed, and his gaze’s a look of wonder.
Your warmth intensifies as your lips meet again, and you can feel the heat radiating from his body. The kiss deepens, becoming more urgent, a blend of pent-up emotions and undeniable attraction. Josh’s hands slide down to your waist, pulling you closer until there’s barely any space left between you. The world outside the door fades entirely, leaving only the sound of your heart beating in sync.
You feel excitement as he deepens the kiss, his lips moving against yours with a newfound hunger. His hands explore your back, fingers brushing against the fabric of your sweater, sending shivers down your spine. You respond by wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him in closer, the kiss growing more heated with each passing second.
"God, I've wanted this for so long," Josh murmurs against your lips, his breath warm and heavy, making your heart race even faster.
"Me too," you reply, your voice barely above a whisper, the thrill of his admission sending a wave of excitement through you. As if sensing your need for more, he deepens the kiss, and you melt into him.
You feel his hands explore your sides, fingers brushing against your skin, igniting every nerve ending. The sensations swirl around you, and you lose yourself in the sweetness of his kiss, his intoxicating taste. Josh pulls you closer, the pressure of his body against yours, heightening the tension. You can feel the heat radiating off him, pulling you in like a magnet. The kiss becomes more frantic and desperate, as if you're afraid of what might happen if you stop.
When you break apart momentarily, Josh’s eyes dark with desire. "I can't believe it took us this long to do this again," he says, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. His touch sends shivers through you, and you lean into him, craving more.
Without breaking eye contact, he leans in again, capturing your lips in a soft and demanding kiss. You feel the fire between you intensify, and you sigh softly as you return the kiss, your fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. He tilts his head, deepening the kiss, and you can feel his warmth against you, making it hard to think. The world outside ceases to exist; the two of you are wrapped up in this moment.
"Y/N," he murmurs, pulling back slightly to look into your eyes, desires flickering in his gaze. He gestures towards your top, tugging at the bottom of it. “Can I?"
Your heart races at the question, but the answer feels instinctual. "Yes," you reply, your voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions.
With a spark of determination, Josh slides your t-shirt over your head. His hands slide down your back, gripping your hips as he pulls you closer, sitting down on the edge of his bed. He pulls you down with him, guiding you onto his lap.
As you settle onto his lap, the heat between you grows palpable. Josh's hands remain firm on your hips, grounding you in the moment—his gaze flickers between your eyes and lips, filled with hunger and tenderness.
With a swift movement, he pulls his shirt over his head, revealing toned muscles that glisten softly in the dim light. The sight sends a rush of excitement through you, and your breath catches in your throat.
He leans closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, "I want to see you." The request ignites a thrill of anticipation within you.
Josh's fingers trace the delicate curve of your spine as he gently removes your bra, letting it fall to the floor unnoticed. His gaze is intense, almost predatory, as he takes in the sight of you. The room is quiet except for your joint breaths, each heavier than the last.
"You are so beautiful," he whispers, his voice a low, husky rumble that sends shivers down your spine.
He doesn't wait for a response. Instead, his hands slide around to cup your breasts, thumbs flicking over your nipples, sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core. You gasp, arching into his touch, your head tilting back instinctively.
"So responsive," he murmurs, his lips brushing against your jawline as he moves closer to your ear. "I love how you react to my touch."
His words tingle your skin, and you can feel the heat pooling between your legs. You want more of his hands, mouth, and more of him. You nod, unable to form words through the haze of desire clouding your mind.
With a wicked grin, Josh shifts his grip, one hand still playing with your nipple while the other slides down to your waistband. He tugs at your leggings, pulling it down your hips until it crumples at your thighs. Your panties are now exposed, and he wastes no time reaching under them, his fingers brushing against the sensitive flesh of your inner thighs.
"Spread your legs for me," he commands softly, his voice firm but not unkind.
You obey, parting your legs slightly, allowing him better access. His fingers continue their journey upward, dipping just inside the edge of your panties before finding their target. You feel the pad of his index finger glide over your clit, a slow, teasing stroke that makes you bite your lip to stifle a moan.
"That’s it," he encourages, adding another finger to circle your clit faster. "Let me hear you."
The combination of his dirty talk and touch pushes you closer to the edge. You try to maintain some semblance of control, but his fingers on your clit have reduced you to a quivering mess. Your breath comes in short gasps, and you can feel the tension building rapidly inside you.
“Josh…” you manage to whisper, your voice cracking as waves of pleasure begin to crest.
He responds by pressing harder, his thumb circling your nipple while his fingers work magic between your legs. The sensations are too intense, and you know you won't last much longer. Your body stiffens, muscles tightening as you feel the familiar rush of an impending orgasm.
"Cum for me," he orders, his voice laced with authority. "Show me how much you like my fingers."
Those words tip you over the edge. A cry escapes your lips as wave after wave of ecstasy crashes over you, your body trembling with the force of your release. Josh doesn't let up, continuing to stroke you through the aftershocks, ensuring every ounce of pleasure is wrung from your body.
When the tremors finally subside, you collapse against him, weak and breathless. Josh pulls his fingers away, bringing them to his mouth to lick them clean, his eyes never leaving yours. The look in his eyes tells you this is far from over.
"Now," he says, his voice rough with unspent desire, "it's my turn."
He stands up, lifting you effortlessly and laying you back onto the bed. You watch as he quickly sheds the rest of his clothes, revealing his hard, eager cock. He positions himself between your legs, his hands resting on either side of your head as he hovers above you, maintaining that intense eye contact.
"Tell me what you want," he demands, his tone brooking no refusal.
You bite your lip, considering your answer. The power dynamic has shifted, and you feel thrilled at being under his command. But you also know what you want—what you need.
"I want you inside me," you confess, your voice soft but clear. "Please, Josh."
A smile curves his lips, triumphant and possessive. "Good girl," he murmurs, lowering himself until his cock brushes against your entrance. "This might hurt a little at first. I want you to take every inch."
You nod, understanding the challenge. He slowly pushes forward, stretching you, filling you. The initial sting gives way to a deep, throbbing pleasure as he sinks deeper, inch by agonisingly delicious inch. You clutch at the sheets, trying to anchor yourself as he continues his relentless advance.
"All of it," he growls, his muscles straining as he reaches the hilt. "Take all of me."
You whimper, overwhelmed by the fullness but also by the primal rush of having him entirely inside you. He pauses, giving you a moment to adjust, his hands moving to cradle your face as he gazes down at you.
"Are you ready?" he asks, though it sounds more like a statement.
Before you can answer, he pulls out slightly and then thrusts back in, which is more challenging this time. The impact makes your breath hitch, and you can't help but cry out at its intensity. He repeats the motion, each thrust more vigorous than the last, pushing you higher and higher.
"Fuck, you feel so good," he mutters, his voice strained. "So tight."
Your nails dig into his shoulders as you meet his thrusts, your hips rising to greet him. The rhythm builds, becoming more frantic, more desperate. The world narrows down to just the two of you, locked in this primal dance of lust and need.
Suddenly, he changes pace, slowing down just enough to tilt his hips differently. The angle hits a spot deep inside you that makes your vision blur with pleasure. You can feel your second climax approaching, and you cling to him for dear life.
"Josh... I'm close," you gasp, your voice barely audible.
He smiles darkly, taking that as his cue. "Then cum all over me," he says, speeding up again. "Let go."
His words trigger something within you, and you feel the dam break as another powerful orgasm rips through you. Your body convulses beneath him, and you moan his name as you ride out the waves of pleasure.
Josh doesn’t stop his thrusts, making them harder and rougher with each stroke. You begin to feel the slick between your legs turn into a gush, tiny droplets of your heat squirting on his pelvis. He slides out and pushes back in, going deeper each time. You feel his hands on your hips as he thrusts into you harder and harder, your slick still flying onto his abdomen. He looks into your eyes with a wicked smirk, his cock never slowing.
“Oh god, oh god, oh god,” you mumble, barely coherent.
You feel like you’re on fire, your muscles are so tense they feel like they’re about to snap, your body is clenching down on him so hard it hurts, and you feel yourself pouring like a waterfall.
Josh suddenly stops and flips you on your side, his body following suit as he lays behind you. You feel his arms wrap around your waist, his chin nuzzling into the crook of your neck.
“You know I’m not kidding when I say you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he whispers into your neck.
You feel him stiffen behind you and realise he’s still inside you. You moan quietly, and he slowly starts to move again. His hands grip your hips, and he picks up the pace, fucking you harder this time. You push back into him, your body desperate for his cock.
“I knew…” he grunts, his movements getting faster and faster. “I knew it the first night we met.”
You gasp at his words and start to feel another orgasm build. His cock hits a different spot inside you this time, and you feel it fill you. You begin to shake and moan as your muscles clench down on him. He lets out a loud groan, and his movements become more erratic.
“I’m gonna cum,” he moans. You feel him pick up the pace and drive himself into you repeatedly. His cock swells inside you, and you feel his hot release cover your walls. His cum floods your pussy as he fucks you through his orgasm. He collapses behind you and pulls out. You feel his cum dripping out of you and look over your shoulder at him. He’s watching your pussy with a look of satisfaction on his face.
Josh wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer into his embrace. “I shouldn’t have left you for so long. I’ve been so caught up with Hannah and Beth disappearing… but seeing you tonight reminded me of everything I’ve always felt for you.”
You stay silent, waiting to hear his following words. A short while later, you feel him getting up. You roll over onto your back and watch as he walks away, naked and utterly comfortable in his own body. He disappears out the door and returns a minute later, holding a box of tissues and a damp washcloth.
He climbs into bed, pressing the washcloth to your pussy. “I want to take care of you. I want to make sure you feel good.”
“I want to take care of you too, Josh,” You whisper, voice barely above a whisper. You’re exhausted but relaxed beyond any relaxation you’ve ever experienced.
“I love that you’re all fucked out for me,” he says. You smile at him and watch as he tosses the washcloth away and opens the box of tissues.
He pulls out a few and gently wipes his cock clean. He looks up at you as he does it, watching your reaction to him cleaning himself. You feel your body start to get warm, and your nipples perk up at the sight. He smiles as he realises what’s happening.
“I’m tempted to go for round 2, but I think it would be kind of rude for the house host to disappear for long periods… even if it’s to spend time with a super gorgeous woman,” Josh says, throwing the used tissues onto the floor and crawling back into bed with you.
“Let’s lay here for a little while,” You tell him, grabbing his hand and pulling him closer to you. He pulls the blankets over both of your naked bodies and comfortably wraps his arms around your body.
“We can lay here, but not for too long; the others will come busting in here and find us naked,” Josh laughs, playing with the hair strands dangling over your chest.
“Fine,” You yawn, feeling yourself slip into a deep slumber, “We’ll only stay for… a little… while.”
Yawn after yawn, your physical tiredness overtook your awakened state. Slowly, your eyes closed, and your muscles relaxed into the comfort of Josh’s mattress.
“I’m glad you’re here,” Josh whispers into your ear, unaware of your sleeping state. He hears a slight, feminine-sounding snore and peers over your body, observing your half-open mouth and closed eyes.
Kissing you on the forehead, Josh slowly gets out of bed and gets dressed. He has big plans for tonight, sadistic, messed-up plans… and he wanted you to have no part in it.
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yoyomomiko · 2 months ago
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☆ : They're jealous ×
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characters: Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Ace
cw: jealousy (is that supposed to be a warning??), probably ooc, cringe, not proofread, probably contains grammar mistakes, english isn't my first language!!
(a/n): This is like, my first time writing for one piece characters specifically😀 I'm barely in Alabasta but I cannot wait until I finish one piece so that I can write for it😔 ACE IS A NEED UGH -> m.list
★requests are open!!
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LUFFY
Luffy doesn't understand jealousy at first and will simply blurt out "Why are you talking to him so much?" without realizing it sounds possessive.
Believe it or not, he can get VERY possessive. You're pretty much just as valuable as his hat, you're his treasure.
That's right, his treasure.
So then, why are you talking to that donkey faced man? He's so ugly, why would you even bother wasting your breath speaking to him?
He'll cling to you like glue, throwing an arm around your shoulders or holding your hand tightly while pouting.
When Luffy's jealous he starts getting loud, making exaggerated jokes or showing off just to grab your attention.
Complains to the rest of the crew (probably Usopp or Nami), asking things like "Why does she want to talk to him when I'm right here?"
He completely interrupts your conversation with the other person by inserting himself, I just kinda feel like he'd do that.
WILL demand you sit next to him at meals and get grumpy if you sit by someone else.
He can't stay mad for long, the SECOND you give him attention, he lights up again as if nothing happened.
If the other person makes you laugh, he'll immediately try to one up them by doing something goofy, trust me, I know
He will casually lean on you or put his hat on your head as a possessive gesture (LUFFY THE MAN YOU ARE)
He's so childish
ZORO
Zoro acts nonchalant but is secretly FUMING inside when someone gets too close to you.
Glares daggers at the other person, making them incredibly uncomfortable without saying a word, he's just like that
Crosses his arms and stands near you as if silently asserting dominance (ugh I need him)
He gets extra grumpy with Sanji or anyone else he sees as competition, throwing insults their way.
He physically can't hide his annoyance and mutters things under his breath like "Tch, what's so interesting about him?"
If you laugh at someone else's joke he's gonna be like "It wasn't that funny."
I feel like he gets jealous if someone compliments you, but instead of complimenting you himself, he'll grumble like "You don't need to hear that from him."
WILL position himself between you and the other person, silently blocking them from getting closer.
I think he lowkey gets clingy after cooling down his jealousy, sticking close to you but pretending it's no big deal.
When you reassure him, he'll pretend it didn’t bother him, saying stuff like "Whatever, it's not like I cared." But deep down, he's RELIEVED.
SANJI
Lord have mercy
Sanji gets visibly jealous and is UNABLE to hide it with his dramatic reactions
He definitely calls the other person out immediately, saying things like "Why are you bothering her, huh?"
He tries to pull your attention back to him by showering you with compliments and affection.
He starts offering to cook your favorite dishes after that, just to make himself seem more worthy than moss head over there
If the other person is flirting, Sanji will step in and sweet talk to you SO passionately it makes the other person back off (simp power??)
He dramatically smokes while muttering "How could she look at someone else when I'm right here..."
Tries to outdo the other person in everything, just to show he's better
WILL ask you "Do you think he's better than me?" with puppy dog eyes
100% gets extremely competitive with Zoro (if it's him you're giving attention to) insulting him while trying to impress you
When reassured, he's back to his usual lovestruck self and saying "I knew you couldn't resist me, my angel!"
Sanji just wants to feel like he's your number one, and your affection always melts his jealousy away.
ACE
MY MAN UGHH
HE'S THE REASON I STARTED ONE PIECE IN THE FIRST PLACE
Anywayss
Ace tries to play it cool, but his temper makes his jealousy pretty obvious.
If someone flirts with you, he'll casually throw an arm around your shoulders and say "She's taken, by the way."
Speaking of throwing, he definitely picks you up and completely THROWS you over his shoulder. It doesn't matter how tall you are or how much you weigh, he ALWAYS manhandles you.
His freckles make it easy to spot when he's blushing out of jealousy or frustration (UGH😫)
He gets restless and starts fidgeting, for example bouncing his leg while watching you talk to someone else (is that my seat right there?)
Stares at the person with a smirk that doesn't quite hide his irritation, daring them to push their luck (you know that one scene in Alabasta where that giant scorpion was in front of him and Ace was like "I wouldn't if I were you" or something like that? Yeah, that's right🤭)
If someone compliments you, he'll immediately agree and add "Yeah, but I noticed that first."
UGH KICKING MY FEET😣
Can get surprisingly moody, muttering things like "What's so special about him, anyway?"
Might act a little childish, poking fun at the other person
WILL casually flex his strength or abilities if he feels the need to, like lighting a flame in his hand and saying "Bet he can't do this huh?"
If you reassure him or show him affection, he'll relax immediately, grinning and saying something like "Yeah, I knew you couldn't resist me."
And he's smirking at you with that stupid handsome face (I need him🚨)
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★yoyomiko ★miko
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temiizpalace · 3 months ago
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☆┊THE POCKY GAME
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SUMMARY: playing the pocky game with your crush!
CHARACTERS: all dorms (-ortho)
GENRE: fluff
WARNINGS: cursing, suggestive? not really tho
NOTES: happy pocky day!! I think this game is actually really cute teehee. what’s ur guys favorite pocky? (mines the chocolate or matcha one 🙏🙏)
reader is g/n, reader is yuu
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GOES IN FLUSTERED, COMES OUT CONFIDENT
you caught him so off guard. he was just minding his own business, doing his thing, then suddenly you hit him with a game like this? really are you trying to kill him, prefect? does this count as a confession?? he feels hot, is his face red? he didn’t even know pocky day existed!
despite his internal panicking, how could he possibly say no to you? placing the biscuit between his lips, letting you have the chocolate side (or whatever flavor u want) like the gentleman he is. slowly, bite by bite his face inches closer to yours. his heart is killing him, but he doesn’t dare to lose. finally reaching to the midsection, his lips find yours, sharing a small sweet kiss before pulling away.
that was much more fun than he thought it’d be. how about another round?
riddle, trey, jack, kalim, silver, malleus
GOES IN CONFIDENT, COMES OUT A LOSER
he was so smug when you asked. say less prefect! he’ll play the game with you since you’re so desperate!
then suddenly he gets second thoughts once you both begin to bite down on the biscuit. little by little, the proximity between you two began to close, his heartbeat racing at the speed of light. thump thump thump. he could barely control his breathing and his palms were beginning to grow sweaty. by the time you’ve expected a kiss, he pulled away, feeling embarrassed and overwhelmed.
his cheeks were burning hot and there was a discerning look on his face that screamed flustered. with all the talk he had before, maybe this reaction was better than the anticipated kiss. but where’s the fun in that? you pull out another pocky stick, putting it between your lips for a second time with a devilish grin. you’re killing him, prefect.
ace, cater, ruggie, epel, sebek
A LOSER
had to think long and hard about playing. not cause he didn’t want to, but because he knows he’s going to humiliate himself in front of you.
so how did he find himself standing in front of you, with a pocky in his mouth, inching closer and closer to your face after each passing second? this. is. bad. he’s actually going to fail and look like a godforsaken fool. is his face red? it’s red isn’t it? he should’ve known better. not even halfway, he backs up, covering the lower half of his face with his hand.
please forgive him, but he might just DIE and EXPLODE if he hadn’t done what he just did. it’s not just about his safety, it’s about yours too. please don’t tease him he’s already so embarrassed for being a wimp.
he’s already weak in the knees just being beside you, kissing you would be a whole nother story.
deuce, azul, idia
A FUCKING TEASE
another smug one. except this one has plans to win and actually stick to it. rather than just standing in front of you, he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you in closer. you hesitate for a moment, taken aback by his bold actions.
the game grew intense, his eyes staring daggers into your own. you’re not even sure if he was blinking (he wasn’t). he took in your reaction, engraved it in the back of his mind, and plans to replay these moments like they were a cinematic masterpiece. just when you were about to pull away, his lips meet yours, sharing a breathtaking kiss.
your face was warm and wore an expression of shock. he loved it. ah, ah, ah, not so fast prefect. technically that was a tie! what’s a game without a winner? looks like another round is in order..
jade, jamil, rook, lilia
SOMEHOW A WORSE TEASE
pocky game? why would we want to do that when he could just do this?
cupping your cheek, he leans over and places a chaste kiss on your lips. it was a gentle kiss, contrasting with the way his hands traveled down to your waist, holding my you firmly in place. his eyes bored into you, enjoying your shock. he was smug. so smug. you could feel him smiling against your lips, leaning in closer and closer til you finally had the opportunity to push him away.
he only smirked in return, letting you go, grabbing a pocky and walking away as if nothing happened.
punch him. you wanted to punch him.
leona, jade, floyd, jamil, vil
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A/N: jamil was self indulgent ngl
date published: 11/11/24
© temiizpalace — do not copy, steal, or put my work into ai. thank you!
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forgwater · 11 months ago
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"Ah, yes. Me, my beloved Prefect and my lookalike tsum from another dimension."
Twst Boys and their reactions to you cuddling their tsum instead of them Headcanons
part 1 part 2 part 3
Riddle Rosehearts
He's baffled.
There has to be a rule about this somewhere!
Yes. The Headmage said he must look after the tsum until it can get back to where it came from and he will, but this is too much.
Does this creature have no manners?!
It must know the two of you are dating. It might even have its own version of you waiting for him to return!
And yet.
Here it is, hogging all your attention as you hold it close to yourself.
You're not even facing him!
And no. He is not crossing his arms and pouting.
Cater Diamond
He thought the tsum was pretty nice at first.
He's been forced to reconsider.
Cater would love to take a picture of you with his tsum. For his eyes only so don't you worry~
You must look so cute snuggled with the plush!
And it looks like him!
It really would be adorable!
If only you weren't facing away from him, your face presumably buried in the soft tummy of his lookalike.
.......
This is not fair. You should be cuddling him! He's your boyfriend! Not that overgrown bean.
He secretly hopes the tsum falls off the bed in the middle of the night.
Leona Kingscholar
What do you mean you prefer that stupid plush??? He's right here!
Very much not happy. No matter how cute you look with his tsum in your arms.
He tries to pull the tsum out of your arms.
Tsum Leona is not letting go.
They lock eyes.
You're pretty sure they're glaring at each other.
.....
Fine. He'll let the tsum have this. He's not gonna risk an accident just because that bean is unwilling to let you go.
You're gonna have his tail on you tho.
Jack Howl
Why are you hugging his tsum like that?
Why is his tsum looking like a puppy getting affection?
He's getting second hand embarrassment.
It's not because he would like to be held like that by you. It's because....
Uh. Because...
I mean! He's a wolf! His tsum is a wolf! It should be a little more... dignified.
He's not needy like that!
And he didn't agree to this. The tsum has not business being in his space like this. Cuddling with his s/o....
He keeps looking over to you and his tsum. He's snatching that bean out of your arms at first light. They're gonna go for a run.
Floyd Leech
So this could go one of two ways:
Either he's annoyed and tries to snatch the offending plush from you, which will end up in a fight between the two.
Or
He thinks it's hilarious and that you look cute like that.
He still wants his cuddles tho.
What's Floyd to do in this situation?
He just plops himself over you and the tsum. He's letting all of his weight crush you.
Lucky(?) for you it's only his torso crushing you.
Good luck.
Epel Felmier
He's finally allowed to have a sleepover and this happens!
You've got to be kidding him.
Please tell him this is a joke. He's glaring daggers at the tsum.
I mean.... He's a strong and independent man! He doesn't need those cuddles.
Yes. Yes he does.
He's fine!
He keeps glaring at the happy tsum in your arms.
It's mocking him.
There's no way it's not.
He tries to snatch it out of your arms, but makes the mistake of going for the head.
He gets bitten by his tsum.
Sebek Zigvolt
First Malleus-sama, now this!
This creature must be taught respect!
HOW DARE IT JUMP INTO YOUR ARMS SO SHAMELESSLY!!!!
WHO DOES IT THINK IT IS?!
A KNIGHT TO MALLEUS SHOULD NOT BEHAVE THIS WAY!
UNBELIEVABLE!
Sebek gets into a one-sided screaming match with his tsum.
By the end of it he's almost in tears. How dare this glorified plush bean steal your affections away from him!
Tsum Sebek ignores all of this. It is far too preoccupied with enjoying your pets and hugs.
You attempt to console Sebek by promising it's only for tonight.
He does not look consoled.
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safetypinxtales · 1 month ago
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Santa baby | Azriel
summary: it's nearing solstice and you have an extensive list for your mate Santa.
words: 1.5k
warnings: fluff, a bit of seduction, Azriel is stupid in love, like absolutely whipped, reader sits in Azriel's lap, feminine reader (lipgloss, hair below shoulder-length), otherwise neutrally described reader, no use of y/n, it's an AU where everything is the same except Santa is a thing.
notes: well, it's been a while but it's Christmas and I have free time for once so why not write? I whipped this one up in like an hour whilst waiting for our guests to arrive today, and it has minimal editing, but it's something light and sweet for the holidays. Hope you enjoy and merry Christmas! 🤍
masterlist
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The glass is cold in your hand as you waltz into the living room. The winter sun had already set on the quaint seaside cottage you shared with Azriel. He had surprised you with it after your mating ceremony last solstice, and as you took in the shadows dancing around on the walls, cast by dim candle light, a feeling of contentedness enveloped you. The amber liquid in the glass sloshed with each step you took, but never quite enough to spill over the rim. It was a practiced routine, bringing him a drink whenever you found your mate a little too stuck in his work.
His head lifted from the paperwork he had been going over as he sensed your presence entering the living room, the hand that had been carefully turning a leaf falling slack on the armrest.
His eyes dropped down to your hips, watching them sway with every step you took, gaze fixed as if in a trance.
You let out a low hum as you reached him, extending the glass. His eyes met yours as he put the paperwork aside and accepted your offering.
Slowly – gracefully and practiced – you slid into his lap, one arm snaking its way around his shoulder. The warmth of his hands on your waist spread all the way into your chest, making your heart beat just that little bit faster.
Grabbing his face, feeling the slight stubble of his cheek under your palm, you planted your lips on his. 
The kiss was soft and warm, and perfectly matched the feeling blooming in your chest has he murmured a low:
“Hello, my love.”
“Hello,” you hummed back and felt that slow tug in your chest that you had come to love so. 
You gave a loving tug back and felt Azriel shudder beneath you.
Letting you gaze flit over his face, you marveled at his features. 
The dark lashes framing those mesmerizing hazel eyes of his. The colour of the finest of honey, all swirling and golden. 
The constellations of freckles adorning his cheeks, like a map only you were privy to read.
His lips, currently smeared in your lipgloss and stretched into a dopey smile making him look just as lovesick as you felt inside.
“Hey, Az?” You broke the warm silence that had enveloped you.
“Yes, my love?” He murmured, his eyes flicking down to your lips briefly before finding their way back to yours.
You leaned in to give him another soft peck, only pulling away to rest your forehead against his.
“I have.. I’ve been thinking about something,” you whispered, feeling the breath from his curious yes? on your lips. “About what I want from Santa this year.”
He pulled back slightly at your words, eyebrows raised and that dopey smile still plastered on that pretty mouth of his. He knew as well as you that Santa meant Azriel himself.
“Oh, really? Please, do tell,” his curious hum sent you heart fluttering as you settled in further in his lap.
“Well, do you remember that dagger I liked so much when we visited summer? The gold one?” You purred and ran your fingers through his hair. His eyes fluttered as your nails lightly scratched his scalp.
“The one with the eye-sized ruby in the pommel?” You nodded. “My love, that blade is useless. You couldn’t even cut an apple with it, much less cause any real damage,” he scoffed, ”you’d be better off fighting someone with a cotton ball. That you could at least shove down their throat – hope they choke to death.”
His eyes gleamed at the gasp you let out. The soft swat you landed on his chest drawing out a quiet chuckle.
“I know it’s useless in combat, but it’s so pretty isn’t it? Besides, why would I need to fight when I have you to defend me?” You chirped with a flutter of lashes. 
You just managed to catch his eyes darkening before he pulled you into yet another kiss, this time firmer. Purposeful. 
Claiming.
When he pulled away his breath was heavier and his voice rougher as he swore, “I will always protect you, always defend you.”
“Even if I’m in the wrong?”
“No such thing.”
Your toes curled at his admission, and the hand that was tangled in his hair tightened its grip.
“Good answer,” you mused, and his thumbs swiped at your waist – up and down. 
“What else should Santa put on his list?”
You pretended to think for a moment, pursing your lips into a glossy pout, knowing just how crazy the act drove your mate.
And just as you could have predicted, his eyes dropped down to your mouth, his smile fading slightly, his eyelids growing heavier.
“Well you know that necklace that Feyre has? That she wore on our mating ceremony?” You asked.
He nodded in response, eyes still focused on your lips.
You let your cheeks pull into a broad smile, “well I saw that the jewellery shop by the Palace of Thread and Jewels has its twin in gold.”
“The diamond necklace you kept sighing about for weeks after the ceremony? The one that had me questioning if it was the mating bond that was making you so blue?” He questioned, his voice laced with disbelief.
“That’s the one,” you replied. Removing your hand from where it was nestled against his head, you moved to push your hair over your shoulder, exposing your décolletage.
”Wouldn’t it fit me so well?” You asked, letting your hands graze the bottom of your throat, following the curve down to the top of your chest, watching his eyes track the movement with a predatory focus.
Azriel’s throat bobbed, “It would.”
Your hand fell to his arm, giving the muscle hiding under his sweater a light squeeze. 
“Yeah, you really think so?” You gave him your best hopeful look, batting your eyelashes for added effect.
He simply nodded, too much of a lovestruck, mess of a male in your presence to form any actual words. 
“That’s good,” you hum, “now I only have one last thing on my wish list.”
Your mate didn’t verbally respond, but you took the squeeze of his hands on your hips as a sign to keep going.
“An apartment in the city.”
That seemed to bring Azriel back to life.
“An apartment? Is the cottage I got for us not enough?” He asked with a playful glint in his eyes.
“Well, no, I love the cottage – you know that. But sometimes it would be nice to have somewhere closer to go to after having spent the evening with the others, don’t you think?”
“It takes half a second to winnow from there to here,” he deadpanned, causing you to roll your eyes.
“But I think it would be nice to stay in the city sometimes. To be able to walk home, a stroll along the Sidra,” you gave him your sweetest, most innocent smile and added, “just you and me?”
You could see his resolve melting, and felt the largeness of his hand leave your waist in favour of gently stroking your thigh. 
“An apartment, huh?” His soft voice still had some reluctance hanging on to it, but you could tell he was warming up to the idea pretty quickly.
Your head bobbed up and down in confirmation, and an amused sigh left his lips.
“You must think mighty highly of yourself, dear, to think Santa would give you such special treatment,” he mused as he pulled you closer. 
“Well, I just have it on a hunch that Santa might know that my wonderful, loving mate, who – if I haven’t already mentioned – loves me so,” Azriel’s eyes crinkled at the corners as you continued, “works for the high lord.”
Amusement danced in his eyes, and a soft red glow started making its way up his cheeks.
“So maybe someone like that, like me. Like the mate of the Night court spymaster, deserves to be a little spoiled.” You leaned in to kiss his jaw, and stopped to whisper in his ear, “it sure would make her happy.”
He hummed in agreement, his thumb stroking across your thigh at a slow but steady pace.
“Besides,” you continued, leaning back to look him in the eyes, “I have been such a good girl this year.” 
Azriel’s administrations on you leg stopped, his large hand instead coming up to cup your face. 
He hummed lowly, eyes locked on your lips, eyebrows drawn together in a pensive look.
“You really have,” he murmured.
Again, he pulled you into a kiss, molding his lips to yours. You let yourself melt into him – your wonderful, loving spymaster – into the warmth radiating from his large body. Into the secure grip of his hands and the gentle softness of his lips. You let yourself melt into your mate, with no care in the world, besides kissing him back.
When you finally pulled away you leaned in close to his ear and whispered, “if Santa is very kind to me, I promise I will be just as good next year.”
“Yeah?” His voice was thick with emotion.
“Yes, maybe even better.” You promised, and leaned back to look at him. 
You cupped his jaw, the slight stubble adorning the skin scratching your hand in the most comforting way.
He shook his head slightly, his gaze never leaving yours.
“Not possible.”
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Want to be added to my taglist?
tags: @missussimonriley @azrielshadows1nger @anuttellaa @tele86 @aria-chikage @lilah-asteria
(since I haven't written in a while, lmk if you want to be removed)
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wraithsoutlaws · 1 year ago
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HI IM BACK
Been thinking about the boys and holidays, obviously Halloween is a fun day for them but how about the others?? Like Christmas, new years, Easter valentines.. I see them loving 4th of July since they could blow things up.
hi hello!! soo dagger lowkey really loves christmas (childlike wonder). he never really got to fully celebrate it when he was with the bakkers (they did what they could) but does have fond memories locked away from his childhood (some of the ONLY fond memories from his childhood). dum dum never really thought much about it at all, never had anyone to celebrate it with growing up, and it generally made him lonely. but now they get to have it together and i can't say it's traditional exactly, but dagger puts up the weirdest niche creepy ass cursed decorations he can find and they have a raggedy looking charlie brown-esque tree adorned with bones and halloween lights that's definitely a fire hazard and leave gifts for each other (but most are for cockroach).
dagger can get a little intense for valentines day, he is a very passionate person of course and he *will* bring gifts of fresh cut hearts and entrails, usually in some kind of weird artistic macabre configuration (like a cat bringing a dead mouse to your door). dum dum doesn't always understand this exactly, but he does know it's a high form of romance coming from dagger so he always appreciates it. he also gets dd in the habit of making things for dagger, modifying knives or just soldering together old weapons and shit to make something new. usually they'll end on a casual dinner at some humble diner (probably after holding people at gunpoint and/or torching half the restaurant) and then catch a show at the closest bar and start a fist fight in the moshpit before fucking in the bathroom. you know, romance.
the other holidays are usually just an excuse to blow things up and/or get wasted except easter which dagger occasionally goes to church for. it reminds him of his mom and its something that makes him feel close to her. he doesn't always do this, only sometimes, when his mind is right (rarely). he doesn't tell anyone, not even dum dum, he doesn't even make a plan to go he just. shows up there for a little while and then leaves probably to commit murder (he contains multitudes).
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sourcherryandsprinkles · 8 months ago
Note
Hi! My request is Aemond x reader based on the first episode of season 2. When Blood and Cheese enter Aemond’s room, they find his wife there instead. She resists them, fighting for her life and is able to harm one of them. Aemond arrives and strikes one with his sword, while the other is after executed by Vhagar. Once he sees her on the ground, he runs to check on her and she crumbles into his arms. Aemond is shocked at first, not used to physical touch. This ignites a feeling of great protectness towards reader he didn’t know he had and decides to gift her a knife in case she ever need to defend herself. Hope you enjoyed it ❤️
I could have gone very gore and violent with this one (I'm a horror movie girl), but decided against it as it can be triggering for some
Warnings: violence, blood & cheese, protective!Aemond
my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time
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The castle had turned quiet as night fell outside. You undid the braids from your hair, placing each pins on your vanity, before disrobing and replacing your dress with a light nightgown. Aemond had promised he would be joining you shortly, having business to finish with Ser Criston in the drawing chamber.  
You reached behind your neck to unclasp your necklace, but it seemed to have gotten caught in your hair. A sigh left your lips. You tried again, but were unsuccessful. 
Just then, the door of your chambers opened — Aemond was there. 
You stepped out of the bathing chamber, seeking your husband’s help. ‘’Could you help me with my necklace? It seems to be caught in my hair—’’ 
Air caught in your throat when you saw a man you had never seen before stuffing his pockets with gold pieces he found on a table. Before you could ask who he was — or scream —, another grabbed you from the back and pressed a blade against your neck. You froze in his hold.
‘’Cheese,’’ the man behind you said, pressing the blade harder and cutting your skin. 
Cheese, who was stealing, glanced at his friend, confused. ‘’Who the fuck is she?’’
‘’She is the one-eyed prince’s lady, Cheese.’’ He laughed maliciously, pressing the blade against your neck whilst pulling at your hair to expose your neck. ‘’If you scream, I’ll slice your neck.’’
Terror shot through you. 
‘’A son for a son, he said,’’ reminded the other one. ‘’Does she look like a fucking son to you?’’ 
‘’I-I have a necklace. It’s of great value,’’ you offered, your voice trembling.
Your aggressor’s grip tightened, his breath hot and foul against your ear. ‘’You think we’re here for trinkets, woman?’’ he sneered. ‘’We’re here for blood.’’
‘’Where is the one-eyed prince?’’ Cheese asked, ripping your necklace from your neck anyway. 
Who were these men, and why did they want your husband? 
‘’He…he is not here,’’ you stammered, trying to think of a way to get yourself out of Blood’s grip.
You knew there was a dagger hidden in the bedside table. Aemond kept it there in case he needed to defend himself in the middle of the night and couldn’t get to his sword. But there was no way of grabbing it without the two men seeing through your plan.
‘’Would you like more jewelry? Or gold pieces?’’ 
The chances of your plan working were very slim, but if you didn’t do anything, your survival was almost impossible. You were not valuable to them. You were just the wife. 
Blood didn’t seem interested in money, but Cheese's eyes gleamed with greed. Maybe he would take your offerings, and you could fetch the dagger.
Cheese stepped closer, considering your offer. ‘’Jewelry? Gold?’’ He grinned, glancing at Blood.  
‘’Yes. I can get them for you…if your friend releases me.’’ 
Blood grunted and reluctantly released you. 
You moved towards the bedside table, feeling wetness drip down your neck. Luckily, the cut was not deep. You opened the drawer, feeling the two men’s eyes on you, ready to pounce if you tried to escape. First, you pulled out a few pieces of gold, and made sure Cheese could see them. Then, you reached for the dagger, your fingers closing tightly around the hilt. 
You thought your plan had worked, but Blood saw the blade and lunged at you, pinning you against the wall. 
‘’Uh uh,’’ he said, madness in his eyes as he raised his other hand to press his blade against your neck again. ‘’What were you trying to do?’’ 
You said nothing. Blood’s hand on your sternum was making it difficult to breathe. 
Now that you made him mad, your life was hanging by a thread. So you kept eye contact and blindly drove Aemond’s dagger into his side. Blood gasped, eyes wide with shock, before letting go of you and collapsing to the floor. 
‘’Ahh! Fucking cunt!’’ 
You got away from him, but Cheese charged in turn. 
Before he could get to you, the door opened and Aemond entered the room. He instantly noticed the presence of two strangers and his terrified wife, rage flaring within him. Who were these men? How did they get in? What were their intentions? Those questions and more ran through his mind, but he couldn’t even begin to find the answers right now.
Aemond’s jaw clenched in anger as he reached for his sword. It was a silent, swift and deadly movement that echoed through the room.
Having heard the door, Cheese turned, his eyes widening in surprise when seeing the prince, but it was too late. Aemond’s sword struck with precision, piercing through Cheese’s chest in one swift motion. The thief gasped, blood bubbling at his lips as he collapsed to the floor, lifeless.
Aemond didn’t bother to look at Cheese for even a second. He knew he was dead. He stepped over the body of the thief and came closer to you. The thought that these men — these thieves — had broken into your chambers and touched you. Rage was pumping through his veins, but he needed to make sure you were alright. 
He marched over to you, his eye fixated on your neck where the cut was. When his arm touched you, the dagger you were holding clattered on the floor as you crumbled into Aemond’s arms. He caught you, his body becoming stiff from the physical contact. 
Your hands clutched at Aemond, refusing to let go of him, shaken and traumatized from the attack. ‘’They were here for you,’’ you mumbled against this chest as tears of relief fell from your eyes. 
Aemond furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. For him?
From the corner of his eye, he saw Blood’s body move on the floor and his grip on you tightened slightly. ‘’Let’s get out of here. I must alert the guards and my brother.’’ 
For weeks, you refused to be left alone in your chambers, scared more rat catchers would break in. To ensure your protection, Aemond had a guard standing outside the door at all times. He never wanted you to be hurt because of him again.
For extra protection, Aemond sat you down gently and presented you with a velvet-lined box. ‘’I had this made for you by our best blacksmith,’’ he said, opening the box to reveal a dagger with dragon scales intricately wrapped around the handle and a sapphire stone set in the hilt. 
It looked expensive and exquisitely crafted. 
Your fingers traced the scales gently. “It’s beautiful, Aemond. You…you had this made for me?”
‘’Yes,’’ he confirmed, watching you as you examined the dagger. ‘’I wanted you to have something to defend yourself with, should anything like that ever happen again.’’
Flashes of that horrific night coursed your mind. Cheese had died on the scene, his lung pierced by Aemond’s sword. Blood was imprisoned and burned by Vhagar two days after he was found in the tunnels of the Keep. 
Aemond moved your hair behind your shoulder, revealing the scarring cuts from Blood’s knife. Guilt filled his stomach. He was your husband, he was supposed to protect you. It was his duty. ‘’I should have been there to protect you.’’ 
‘’You can’t always be there to protect me. I should have locked the door—’’ 
‘’None of this was your fault,’’ Aemond said firmly. ‘’I refuse to let you think that. Whoever paid these fucking rats is at fault. Not you.’’
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cherrychilli · 9 months ago
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18+ Eddie Munson x f! reader, best friend! Eddie, friends to lovers, mentions of bodily injury, mentions of masturbation (m), oral sex(m)
Summary: Eddie hurts his dick and as his best friend, you decide to help him ease his pain.
WC: 3K
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A/N: I am so tickled by the idea of Eddie wrecking his cock and balls on accident so I had to write about it and wedge in some spice as well. Enjoy!
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When Eddie had told you he wasn't feeling well enough to hangout tonight he should have realized that someone like you, caring and loyal almost to a fault, would take it upon themselves to help in any way they could, showing up at his trailer a few hours later with dinner and a zipper pouch full of medicine he might need.
"Ding dong, I'm here to take care of you, Munson", you'd gleamed at him playfully.
It was no secret that he didn't take the best care of himself whenever he was under the weather. Eddie was known for skipping his meds and spending most of the day swathed in a cocoon made of blankets, emerging hours later to pad into the kitchenette where he'd nibble at cold, leftover takeout before weakly traipsing back to bed.
So, when you showed up at his front door with your arms wound around a thermos full of homemade chicken soup and a Tupperware container warm with baked salmon, he should have felt happy. He should have felt grateful for the trouble you'd gone through just to make sure that he ate well and was looked after while he was on his own but instead, all he felt was the sharp, piercing sting of guilt.
The thing was, Eddie wasn't really sick.
He wasn't running a fever like he'd claimed over the phone. He'd purposely hidden the real reason why he couldn't come over to your place and watch a movie like the two of you had planned because well, he was embarrassed.
The truth was, Eddie couldn't come hangout because his dick and balls were killing him.
It had happened last night.
He'd been spread out on the couch while Wayne was away, dressed only in a pair of boxers snug around his hips with a movie playing on TV to keep him entertained throughout the night.
As usual, a blunt was held between his plush lips for most of the evening too, a bottle of jack by his feet which he'd pick up and gulp from time to time.
The combination of alcohol and the weed served a particular purpose that night – helping to make the tooth achingly bad acting in Zombie Lake more tolerable, a movie he'd picked solely for the gratuitous nudity.
Forty minutes of naked, unsuspecting women wading in zombie infested waters later and he was more than a little strung out at that point, rendered blissfully languid while he lay slumped against the couch.
Eddie had picked that moment to reach for the whiskey with his bloodshot, half lidded eyes still plastered on the TV screen, missing twice before he managed to pick it up with light fingers.
Bringing the three quarters full bottle up to his lips for another swig, that was when the booze slipped out of his loose grip, too high to react quickly enough and catch it before it was too late.
With his thighs spread far apart, the full weight of the bottle landed directly on his crotch, the pain shooting from between his legs like daggers, enough to make him feel like the air had been kicked right out of his lungs.
The carpet and couch soaked up most of the spilled whiskey, the nearly empty bottle lying on its side on the floor while Eddie couldn't do much but cup both hands over his junk and curl into himself, trying to grunt, groan and hiss through the pain as tears brewed in his eyes.
Now, it's almost been a full 24 hours since the incident happened but his dick's still super sore from the impact. And to make matters worse his balls are blue in more ways than one.
See, Eddie's got the kind of sex drive that had him jacking off at least twice a day to keep himself sane but now thanks to his injury, he's already feeling pent up, unable to tug his swollen cock and give himself that much needed release.
So, though your outfit isn't provocative, it's still you, his best friend whom he's harbored less than platonic feelings for so of course your denim shorts and your tank top are making him want to act up, the swirling desire at the base of his stomach burning even hotter with the way you're taking care of him, showing him a level of concern no one else has before.
It isn't fair, he thinks, having to sit across from you on the couch while he tries to fight off the growing ache in his cock, tries to will his sore member soft for the sake of your friendship as well as curbing his own pain.
You're yet to notice his dilemma though, rummaging through your bag while Eddie tries not to let the scent of your body wash trigger flashes of you sitting in your bath tub with your bare tits above water, all wet and soapy with your nipples all hard and the bubbles trailing between your cleavage and–
"Shit", he hisses when a twinge of pain flares as his dick starts to twitch in his sweats.
"Everything okay, Eds?", you look up from your bag when you hear it but he's quick to wipe the grimace from his face, faking his best smile at you.
"All good. So, what are we doing next?"
He's relieved when he watches your soft smile slowly return to your face, the kind that reaches your eyes and curves your lips in that way that makes him want to reach out and cup your cheek, running his thumb over your soft skin before he tells you how pretty he thinks you are.
"How about casual sex?", you ask, all chipper.
"…what?"
In an instant Eddie's whole body alternates between flashes of frigid cold and scorching hot. Had he heard you right? were you…offering? fuck, his dick is throbbing so bad in his sweats right now.
You dive your hand back into your bag, pulling out a VHS tape and holding it out for Eddie to see.
"Figured a comedy would be for the best", you waved the tape in his gawking face, his stomach somersaulting when he reads the title. Of all the movies you could have picked, you just had to go pick the one called Casual Sex? didn't you?
"Plus, I know how much you like Lea Thompson so I figured this would be a good pick", you smiled sweetly at him, tapping a finger over the actress pictured on the cover.
Another sharp prick of guilt and another dull ache radiates in Eddie's crotch because his mind's being especially cruel to him right now, dredging up unwanted memories of the time he wore out a copy of Howard the Duck by beating his meat to Lea Thompson's scenes all day and night.
"Uh, got anything else?", he croaks, clearing his throat when you narrow your eyes at him a little suspiciously.
After a little back and forth, the two of you end up watching The Thing to Eddie's relief. Nothing there that might trigger a boner except the couple of times you squealed adorably when Kurt Russell popped up on screen, kicking your feet and hugging your knees to your chest, inadvertently making your cleavage more noticeable over the neckline of your tank top.
Eddie's able to ignore it for the most part, that was until you offered to help clean up a little once the movie was over, bending over in your denim shorts to gather the empty soda cans sitting on the table in front of the couch.
Despite the alarm bells echoing in his head, he can't seem to help it, eyes trailing up the back of your smooth, bare thighs, settling on your ass and the way he can just about make out a peek of your cheeks now that your shorts have ridden up high.
Oh shit.
Up until now you'd been pretty pert all night but when you turn around, you're instantly startled by the look on Eddie's face, all twisted up and pinched as he presses a cushion into his lap and begins to wince.
"Eddie, what's wrong?", you set the cans aside, dropping back down on to the couch beside him.
Yet another flash of pain courses through him when he catches sight of the way your breasts bounce in your tank top when you take a seat. Jesus, this wasn't going to be easy, was it?
Eddie tries to mask it but you can read the pain there easily, especially when you're so close to him now, close enough that your shoulder brushes against his bicep.
"Eddie please, you can tell me. What's wrong?"
If there was a way out of this without having to admit the truth, without having to tell you how he'd given a whole new meaning to the term whiskey dick, he couldn't seem to find it, feeling helpless as he crumbles under the weight of your concerned, round-eyed stare.
"I lied, okay? I'm not sick, I just…"
Insides twisting, he has to squeeze his eyes shut the moment he sees the confusion register on your face, the way your eyebrows draw together and your eyes narrow. It's too much for him to handle and it all comes flooding out at once.
"I dropped a bottle of whiskey on my dick last night and now the damn thing's killing me because you look so– uh. Fuck. You look so…like, this and it's just– it's a lot"
Daring to open his eyes again, he finds that your own eyes have gone understandably wide, your lips slightly parted too and he hates himself for thinking how badly he'd like to slip his fingers between them and watch you suck.
"Oh. So like, is it– are you hurt badly?", you break the silence after a few seconds of processing his word vomit, blinking up at Eddie like you're fascinated to learn more about his injured cock.
"I mean, I don't think it's anything I need to go to hospital over but yeah. Hurts a lot", he replies a little sheepishly, a side of Eddie you don't see very often because he's far and away from the shy type that's for sure.
"Like when you get hard?", you tilt your head to the side curiously.
Eddie blinks back at you when you say it, clearly taken aback by how casually you're treating this whole situation after how hard he'd tried to hide it but he manages to answer you with a slow nod.
He shivers next when suddenly you drop your gaze to the cushion he's got pressed over his aching boner. "Hm… it’s probably not going to go away anytime soon either, huh? we should do something about that", you suggest thoughtfully.
In that moment, all he can do is look at you in disbelief, sweat beading at his temple and his fingers trembling on top of the cushion. This couldn't really be happening, could it? His best friend since, forever, offering to get him off?
Eyes drifting up to his once more, you lean a little closer, voice dropping down to a whisper. "I could help you", you offer, tentatively placing your hand on Eddie's knee. "Only if you want me to."
Adams apple bobbing, it hurts Eddie when he swallows, finding his throat's turned dry and tight in the last few seconds.
"Seriously? you'd actually do that? um, are you sure?"
You bite back a laugh because the look on his face is nothing short of adorable, all wide eyed and eager like a puppy awaiting a treat.
"Well, you could sit here with your bruised dick and keep whimpering like a baby or you could let me make you feel better. What's it going to be, Eds?", you quirk up an eyebrow at him at the same time the corner of your mouth picks up into a playful smirk.
"The second one please", he answers quickly, his cheeks flooding with so much color you kind of want to pinch them and tease him about how cute he looks right now.
"Thought so."
Smiling, you pick yourself up off the couch, carefully lowering yourself to kneel between Eddie's legs when you place your hands on his knees and gently encourage him to spread them apart.
He's quick to help you when you reach for the waistband of his sweatpants next, carefully pulling both it and his boxers down to finally free his cock.
For both of you, it's surreal being in this position – Eddie with his cock out, all hard and throbbing for you and you wedged perfectly between his legs like a puzzle piece he'd been searching for all his life.
You have to take a few seconds to admire it; the way the length of him blushes red and curves up towards his belly, the way the many veins wrap around his thickness and the dark, wiry thatch of hair at his base, untrimmed and full. Just how you'd always imagined based on how wild Eddie kept the hair on his head.
Eyes trailing lower, you have to resist the urge to palm his balls to keep from possible hurting him. You want to feel the weight of them in your hand though because you can't help but think they look so full and that makes you feel sorry for Eddie and how he'd had to deal with that discomfort all day.
The thought has you pushing your lips out into a sympathetic little pout, hand reaching out to finally touch him. Gently, you use your fingers to pull back his soft foreskin, leaning forward and parting your lips to delicately kitten lick at his red, leaking tip, keeping your eyes fixed on his face for any signs of discomfort.
You're pleased to find none, chest blooming with pride as you watch complete bliss wash over Eddie's face, swirling your tongue gently and collecting beads of precum when you hear him sigh and moan with relief.
"Oh my god, that's – that's really fucking good. Please keep going", he whines unabashedly because that persistent ache that's been troubling him since last night is being soothed so fucking well by your eager tongue. At this point he doesn't even care what kind of sounds you might pull out of him, desperate to feel more of your touch.
"Don't think I'm gonna last long", he gulps when you blink up at him with your pretty lips wrapped around his tip. "Your mouth feels too good."
His words make your confidence rise like steadily billowing smoke. "You don't need to", you tell him truthfully. "I just want to make you feel better", pressing a sweet kiss to the top of his smooth head, loving the way his breath stutters when you do it and the feeling of his sticky precum coating your lips in a shiny film. Like he's marking you..
As you continue, you refrain from using your hands while you pleasure him, keeping them pressed flat against his inner thighs, using only your mouth to kiss and lick up and down his rigid shaft as your nose nudges against it softly, returning to suckle at his tip from time to time.
It's easy to tell how badly Eddie must have needed this because he's unravelling so quickly under your touch as he throws his head back against the couch, his hands balled into fists by his sides while he whimpers about how well you're doing.
He's so pretty like this with his neck bared to you but you miss his gaze, removing your swelling lips from his cock to coax him back. "Don't hold back with me, Teddie. Tell me what you need and I'll give it to you", you coo earnestly.
Lifting his cloudy head to look down at you, it's Eddie's turn to surprise you when he brings one hand up to brush back a few strands of hair that'd gotten stuck to your damp cheek, a brief moment of tenderness that makes the butterflies resting in the depths of your stomach wake and beat their wings.
"Could you go a little lower?", he asks you, chest heaving and lips slightly pink from biting.
"Want me to lick your balls?", you try to clarify.
That makes him chuckle, a sweet, airy sound that makes you feel like there's sunlight spilling through the spaces between your ribs, filling up your whole chest with pleasant warmth.
"When d'you start talking like this, huh? Y' got such a dirty mouth on you, sweetheart", he teases you lightly, pulling his hand back so you can get back to working him.
You simply smile against his shaft in reply, feigning coy and innocence while trailing kisses lower and lower until you reach the seam of his balls. Placing your warm tongue flat against it, you draw it up slowly, wetting his heated skin before pressing more kisses against his sack, giggling when the hair there starts to tickle your lips.
"Think you can handle it if I take you in my throat? I'll go slow, I promise", you speak up from between his legs.
Given how often he's pumped his cock to the very thought of you throating him, Eddie nearly trips over himself trying to find the words to answer.
"Holy shit, yes please", he manages to let out with a strained groan.
That's all you needed to hear before you're taking him into your mouth again, bobbing up and down a few times slowly, careful not to let your teeth scrape his sensitive skin before you bob deeper and let him reach the back of your throat, triggering your gag reflex and making your throat close around him nice and tight.
"Baby– baby, fuck I'm going to cum", he gasps, hips jerking, eyes squeezing shut.
And that's all the warning he can manage to give you before he's spilling down your throat, thick, creamy ropes of it which you swallow down eagerly and as best as you can.
Most of it slides down the warm, wet contracting walls of your throat but you realize just how pent-up Eddie must have been when your cheeks puff out a little with a generous amount of his cum that you couldn't manage to gulp down fast enough, pulling off of Eddie's softening cock with a mouthful of spend sitting warm on your tongue, coating the insides of your cheeks.
Sitting there on your knees while Eddie pants and recuperates, a deeply curious part of you has you swishing his cum in your mouth, savoring the distinct, tangy taste of him before you part your lips and let him look inside.
Exhausted but entirely amazed, he gawks at you and the viscous mess of spit and semen in your mouth, tempted to stick his own tongue in there and taste himself on you before you press your swollen lips back together and promptly swallow, a beaming smile breaking out on your face.
"See? told you I'd take care of you."
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sttoru · 1 year ago
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gojo satoru was a liar.
“you’re my first love.”
to say you were baffled by this new drop of information by your lover was an understatement. you’d been dating satoru for a month now—you were friends before that. you know his playful personality well enough to be able to look through all of his jokes and teasing comments.
“hah, tha’s a funny one.” you chuckle sheepishly as you continue to gaze at the sky. you were standing at the rooftop of a building after finishing a mission together, the beautiful sunset a welcomed change after the chaos.
there was no way satoru — the gojo satoru — hadn’t been in love with anyone before you. his good looks, his power, his status, his money. . . you were sure satoru had been with many women before you. he easily could if he wanted to after all.
“not joking.” satoru frowns as you don’t believe him. it wasn’t a frown out of frustration at your reaction, but rather in a sad pouty way. his slender fingers run over the knuckles of your hand which he held;
“i’m completely serious—only ever had eyes for you.”
the doubt in your eyes was like a dagger through his heart.
“could you please believe me?”
you turn your head and tilt it up to look at the white-haired man—the light illuminating his features perfectly. especially those glossy lips. those kissable glossy lips that seem to be a magnet, begging to meet yours.
there was no way. you? out of all people he could get. ‘yeah, right,’ is what you thought to yourself. though, you knew better than to doubt satoru when he spoke so seriously to you. that usual jokey tone nowhere to be found in his smooth voice.
a rare sight; satoru being completely serious. without bursting into laughter or making even the smallest of jokes.
“yeah. i believe you.” you nod, not knowing what to say to the unexpected information he decided to share. a silence, only interrupted by the distant noises of cars honking, makes you once again realise how serious this conversation had turned out to be.
“no, ya don’t. i can see it in your eyes, baby.”
‘baby’ — your heart skips a beat. you were the only one he has ever referred to with those adoring pet and nicknames. the only one satoru’s allowed himself to be vulnerable with.
satoru’s hand finds its way to the side of your face, fingertips scratching the skin near your ear gently as he guides your body towards his. like two unstoppable forces, your bodies press against one another, feeling like one.
“look at me,” your boyfriend mutters and you do as told, your doubts instantly clearing once the sheer adoration and love radiating from his magical blue eyes tell you enough. that’s enough evidence to support his first comment —
“mhm. that’s it.” satoru sighs softly and leans in to kiss you softly, his lips on yours making you dizzy in the best ways possible, his other hand on the small of your back to push you closer to him than you already were.
the kiss was the cherry on top.
once you pulled away, the love in his gaze hasn’t faded at all. in fact, the intensity of his love for you seemed to have increased. satoru was absolutely smitten with you.
he smiles gently once he sees the realisation hit you. that was all he wanted to achieve by saying what he said to you; the pure joy on your face once you come to know that you were indeed his first ever love. the first person he’s loved in all those years he’s lived;
“my pretty girl — my one and only.”
gojo satoru was anything but a liar.
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hiraethwrote · 7 months ago
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she thought you were cute
summary: you've never had to worry about getting jealous being with Megumi. but one time has to be the first, right?
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[ loner!megumi x popular!reader ]
cw: college au, aged up characters, f!reader, sorority!reader, megumi being oblivious, jealousy!!, reader is kinda mean ngl, mild profanity (one use of hell), fluff
word count: 2.6k
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Was jealousy a hot topic in your relationship? Well, it wasn’t unheard of. There was no denying you quickly garnered a respectable reputation as a part of the biggest sorority on campus — not to mention your radiating personality and beauty just had eyes draw towards you wherever you went. This did tend to ignite the tiniest spark of jealousy in Megumi, understandably so.
But god forbid he did anything about it — that would mean causing a scene which wasn’t his style. He mostly stuck to groaning a few curses to himself, complaining to his friends about the idiots who thought they stood a chance with you before he quickly relaxed once you joined them just to latch onto him.
You, on the other hand, were a different case.
There had never really been any situations to bring out the jealous side of you. You knew it existed, as you had never been very forgiving when people stepped into the territory of what was yours. But dating the quiet and reserved guy had its unforeseen advantages. Megumi did what he could to stay out of the limelight, never making heads turn. It had you feel special, being the the lucky girl to discover the hidden gem that was Megumi.
Or maybe you had just been lucky enough to discover him first.
His brooding and mysterious personality that had once made people steer clear of him in hallways, seemed to have a different affect in university. Suddenly you weren’t alone in making eyes at him.
You first became aware of this fact one random Wednesday, when you had planned to meet up with Megumi and his small group of friends in the library after a full day of classes to get some light reading done. You’d gotten a little confused when you had come to join their booth to find only Nobara and Yuji, while Megumi’s stuff was abandoned.
“Where’s Megs?”
Nobara didn’t even lift her head from her book, simply waving her hand in his general direction. Sitting down in the empty seat, you spotted him across the room, seemingly in deep conversation with a girl you had never seen before.
Wait- was that a smile you saw lurking on his lips?
Unfamiliar heat raised up your neck looking at the pair, how he casually had his hands stuffed in the pockets of his pants while she stood sweetly, her books pressed to her chest under her crossed arms.
“Nobara?” She only hummed softly in confirmation she heard you. “Who’s she?”
“Huh?” Her curiosity had her tilt her head to meet your grumbling expression staring daggers past her. She followed your gaze to observe the scene you were silently cursing. “Oh, that’s Yukiko. They have a few classes together.”
“Hmpf.” Your displeased tone caused Yuji’s attention to shift away from his laptop as well. Unbeknownst to you, the two of them shared an amused look, never expecting you to be the one to succumb to the cheap hex of jealousy. “So are they like friends or what?”
Nobara had lost all interest in delving deeper into her curriculum, because the sight of you leaning back in the chair, frumpy expression tightening your features and body jitter with agitation was a hell of a lot more entertaining.
“If you count sharing study notes as friends,” Yuji shrugged thinking his comment would be of help, but when he turned to look at you again he swore he could see a twitch under your eye.
You licked your lips, trying to peer your eyes off of the two… only succeeding for a second before you snapped your head in their direction again.
Tracing your eyes up and down her body, you were not quite a fan of what you observed, because strictly based on her appearance she looked a lot like a girl one thought Megumi would be with. She wore a dark and oversized outfit, her face kind, but had no distinct characteristics — definitely not the person to stick out in a room.
But the way she carried herself, hiding just under her cute and quiet exterior was a behaviour that reminded you of someone; you before Megumi. By the way she batted her eyelashes at him and occasionally twirling her hair around her finger, you had a sneaking suspicion she wasn’t as innocent as she appeared to be. Those were all tricks you knew all too well. You had perfected them, in fact. And now she was very charitably throwing them in the direction of your boyfriend.
And though you knew it meant nothing, you absolutely hated the fact that he was so politely accepting her gestures — because when you had presented yourself so sweetly to him way-back-when, he had shut you down.
The obnoxious sound of you frantically tapping your pen against the open book in front of you filled the space between the three of you, it being the only thing that stopped you from stomping over to them and prove to her she was definitely wasting her time.
Finally, their conversation came to an end, and there was no stopping your eyes from narrowing into a venomous squint when she so adorably wiggled her dainty fingers goodbye before he came to sit by the table.
“How was class?” Megumi asked softly, settling into a feeling of comfort now that you had finally joined him for the day — sadly, his usual sweet tone flew right over your head, the image of this Yukiko still gnawing at the back of your mind.
“Hm? Oh, just fine. Nothing out of the ordinary,” you shrugged nonchalantly, turning to your notes as if nothing was bothering you.
However, you weren’t fooling Megumi, who from the second you opened your mouth knew something wasn’t quite right. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” You shot him a small smile before returning to your work.
He only let his curious gaze linger on you for a few more seconds, hoping the reason for the annoyance you were trying to hide would show itself to him. But it never did — you just continued to let your pen travel hastily across the blank pages of your notebook, simply trying to erase the image of the girl he’d been talking to.
Megumi wanted to question you further, not really at peace when he knew something had you scowl. But he also knew if you didn’t flat out tell him what it was, it was better to let your frustration die out on its own. Whatever was going through your mind, you yourself thought you were being silly — and digging deeper would only hinder your process of letting it go.
Eight days went by before she triggered your jealousy again. And this time you didn’t manage to shove the thought of her to the darkest and most forgettable corners of your mind.
Entering his small dorm, you were greeted by the most charming little smile while he lazily paced around the room with his phone pressed to his ear. You didn’t hesitate to throw your bag on the kitchen counter before shuffling over to snake both arms tightly around his waist, pulling a low grunt from his lips at the sudden pressure of your embrace.
“Don’t worry about it, I’ll see you soon.” Once he hung up, he threw his phone on the bed before he loosely wrapped his arms around you in return.
“Who was that?” You hummed quietly, eyes closed as you basked in his warmth that embraced you so lovingly.
“Just Yukiko who needed to borrow one of the books from the reading list.”
It didn’t take more than the sound of her name to evaporate the relaxation in your muscles. You slowly unlatched your arms around him and took a step back, letting them swing carelessly at your sides.
“She doesn’t have her own?” With a forced bounce in your step, you returned to your bag to retreat your phone, needing anything to fidget with in order to keep the flaming feeling inside you from blowing up.
“She does, but she forgot it when she was home from campus this weekend.”
“And the library doesn’t have a spare copy?”
“Apparently they were all checked out already.”
“Apparently,” you said spitefully, keeping your eyes fixated in the shut off device in your hand.
The unfazed act you put on served as much as a shear lace fabric, jealously shining through like a bright light. It was definitely a behaviour he’d never had the fortune of experiencing up close.
It reminded him a little of the impression he had gotten of you from afar, before he had the privilege of knowing you. Though he had never thought of you to be mean, some of the stereotypes of a popular girl he had theorised about, had proven over time to be a correct assumption — like the fact that you might have been a little spoiled. You definitely weren’t big on not getting what you wanted, especially when someone else wanted it as well.
“She wasn’t too far from here, so I was just going to meet her real quick and drop it off,” he said calmly as he went over to his bookshelf to pull out the book, which he had finished reading nearly two weeks ago.
“I’ll come with you!” Spinning around to face him again, you had your arms cutely tucked behind your back, sporting a smile sweet as sugar.
“It’s only gonna take like ten minutes-“
“No, no,” you cut him off, the forced cheerfulness in your voice slightly scaring him. “I’ll come with.”
Megumi definitely wasn’t the type of person to initiate a lot of public displays of affection, but he never shut it down whenever you rested your head on his shoulder when taking the train, or lacing your fingers with his when walking through campus.
However, the possessive grip you had on his hand right now was certainly different. He wouldn’t necessarily say unpleasant, because it was still you after all, but he did miss the tenderness your touch usually supplied.
“You’re meeting her here?” You asked, a somewhat mean lilt to your voice as you eyed the café you were standing in front of. With a roll of the eyes, he held the door open for you to walk in first, shielding away how the corner of his lips tugged upwards — because even though he hated to admit it, there was a small part of him that found it all slightly amusing.
It was always him who wallowed in the uncomfortable feeling of jealousy, lathering himself with patience whenever people ogled you. And here you were, grinding your teeth together at the first girl who talked to him — who even if she was flirting, Megumi was completely oblivious to it.
“Megumi!” Both your heads turned towards the voice, you having to lean forward to catch a glimpse of her past your boyfriend. When her eyes landed on you, a flash of stress travelled across her face before her smile returned to her glossed lips.
“Hey,” he spoke politely as the two of you approached her table, while you only flashed your pearly teeth in a confident smile.
“Hi,” you said, stretching your hand you straight. She reluctantly returned the handshake as you introduced yourself. “It’s so nice to meet you!”
“Nice to meet you too. I’m Yukiko.” Her tone was friendly enough, but you didn’t dare put your guard down, scouting for any subtle advances she might throw in his direction.
“Here you go,” Megumi said, handing her the thick book.
“You’re a lifesaver, Megumi! Don’t know what I’d do without you.”
With a burning sensation, you were convinced your instincts were right. The faintest shimmer in her eyes when she looked at his face was enough to expose her. And to think she had the guts to let her interest shine through when you were standing right there.
For the first time in a long time, your territorial side was brought out, making you hook your arm with his, deliberately drawing her attention to your hand grabbing his in a firm grip.
“So the two of you are like study buddies, I understand it?”
“Oh, I don’t know about that,” she chuckled nervously, fingers tightening around the book in her hands.
“No?” Narrowing your eyebrows in faux confusion. “Thought you had shared notes and stuff?” When tilting your head to the side, your entire body shifted position which had you tug Megumi closer to you, but you managed to make it look so effortless — like you’re intentions were as pure as the driven snow.
“Sometimes,” she muttered, once again letting her gaze flicker to your hands.
Scarlet colour was slowly spreading across Megumi’s face, the heat melting his frozen posture. “We have to get going,” he mumbled shyly, slowly starting to back away towards the exit, pulling you along with him.
“Yeah, of course,” Yukiko said, the positive rhythm sneaking its way back to her words now that they were directed at Megumi again. “See you around.”
“Yeah, see you around,” you said with a slight bite to your tone, your fake smile blending into the frustrated scrunch of your nose. Megumi only had time to shoot her a tight lipped smile before the two of you exited the cafe in a hurry.
Once outside, reunited with air that wasn’t suffocating with hostility, your hand now held onto his with the care he was familiar with, your steps much lighter. You definitely seemed more at peace now when you had established your assertive character.
“She seems nice,” you cooed. Your attention snapped to him when he instantly snorted at your statement. By the slightly playful look he gave you, you thought he might have held back that reaction for a while.
“You know I always see through your lies, right?” He teased.
“Pfft,” you scoffed, retreating your hand from between you to blithely shove his shoulder. “I’m not lying!” His neck tilted to the side, soft squint staring right at you, causing the confession to tumble out without any struggle. “Fine, I don’t like her! But can you blame me?”
“Has she done something to you?”
Your feet stopped walking, blinking dumbfounded at him, letting his sentence digest in order to see if he was actually being serious. “You’re kidding?” All he did was shrug. Could he really be so blind? “You didn’t see what was going on there?”
“You’re telling me there was something to see?”
“Megumi, baby,” you chuckled lightheartedly, coming up to him to place a hand on each side of his face. “Do you think I was jealous over nothing?”
“I dunno,” he mumbled with yet another pull of his shoulders.
The adverse sprinkle to your mood was entirely forgotten, too smitten by the heedless behaviour of your boyfriend, not entirely convinced he actually hadn’t picked up on her attempt to catch his interest.
“She thought you were cute.” Another huff met you, accompanied by an exaggerated roll of the eyes. “No, I’m serious Megs,” you laughed, a sound that had his eyes instantly lock on you again. “But, the thing is, I’m the only one who’s allowed to think so.”
“Oh, is that right?” A smirk crept up on his lips.
“You’re my boyfriend after all, are you not?” You teased him, taking your bottom lip between your teeth to swallow back the satisfactory that had festered in you, now about to spill out in victorious smiles.
Again rolling his eyes, hiding how we was just a little flattered at your antics, before indulging in the rare act of taking the lead in showing his affection. Draping his arms around your neck, he pulled you to his chest in a comforting hug.
“I sure am.”
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tags (taglist is open) @sad-darksoul @nyahctrl @ssetsuka @aceakariii @chxlexauriana @ps-forgetmenot @thejujvtsupost @acowboykisser
if your @ is highlighted in pink, i was unable to tag you... tumblr is not cooperating sorry <3
a/n this is didn't end up as well as i pictured it in my mind but oh well... don't have all that many ideas atm, so might come another fic of them soon
reblogs, likes and comments are appreciated
plagiarism not authorized
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jo-com · 8 months ago
Text
𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚ ༘ ⋆ ➛ Opposite
Oscar Piastri x Fem!reader
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Summary: Oscar has always been so grumpy and moody; frowning towards others but when he sees you, his mood changes faster than the speed of light itself.
Genre: Black cat boyfriend x Golden retriever girlfriend
Note: look out for grammatical errors and this is not proofread guys!
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ➛ My Masterlist
─────── ─ ⋅˚₊‧ 𐙚 ‧₊˚─ ───────
“What’s got your panties in a bunch?” Lando joked, seeing as Oscar’s expression rested into it’s usual downward smile. It was always fixated like that so it’s hard to tell whether or not he’s mad or just himself— others often misinterpret his attitude though.
Mainly because of his resting bitch face and the fact that he’s always frowning all the time, but people got used to it overtime.
Oscar just rolled his eyes and shrugged,”Nothing, i was just staring at something.”
“Staring?” Lando scoffed, “mate, you look like you’re about to murder someone.”
Oscar flipped Lando off, not even sparing him a single glance as he does so.
The other driver chuckled at his child like behavior and just shook his head in a playful manner, “I am telling you man, whatever your staring at right now, might think you’re judging the inside of their soul”
“I don’t even care, fuck them” oscar retaliated, his eyes rolling in the back of his head out of habit.
Before Lando could even tease him any further, a familiar voice spoke softly; interrupting their conversation and joining in themselves.
“Fuck who?” You asked innocently, your smile so radiant and bright that it lit up the once cold and mundane atmosphere.
Oscar’s whole demeanor changed and so did his mood— as soon as you set foot in the hospice and when his eyes landed on your pretty figure, he was like a completely new person.
“Hi babyy!” He spoke, dragging the y with an exaggerated smile, his tone going from gloomy to happy.
Lando giggled from the corner, “wow, where did that come from.”
Oscar momentarily glared at Lando— his eyes shifted back to his old one. If looks could kill, Lando would be buried 6 feet under.
His fellow driver put both hands in front and gestured to back off, “guess i am off then, see you around y/n."
"Bye lan, it was nice seeing you!" you replied happily.
Meanwhile, whilst Lando was heading out, Oscar's sharp stare never jearked away from his body; staring daggers at the poor man.
But of course, once Lando has left, his whole aura changed; he was all bubbly and smiley. It's like he wasn't the Oscar from earlier.
Oscar then patted his lap, gesturing for you to sit there, to which you happily obliged. Sitting excitedly on his lap and gripping his waist to try and balance yourself.
You leaned in to his embrace and shifted yourself to comfort.
"What were you guys talking about?," you mumbled, moving your head up to see his face clearly.
Oscar let out a contented sigh as he gently laid his hand in the roof of your head and ruffled it. You were just so damn adorable, sitting on his lap like that.
Your eyes narrowed from his movement, "What was that for?" You gasped confusingly, earning a soft chuckle from your boyfriend.
"Nothing you're just too cute not to" Oscar spoke, using his free hand to pinch the side of your cheek.
He looked at awe with your confused look-- he doesn't know why it affects him that much and why it makes his heart go beat crazy, but he likes the feeling.
Only with you though.
You guys were too busy with each other that you didn't even notice another presscence blocking the doorframe.
Only when a subtle gasp where let out that the two of you knew that there was someone else.
"IS THAT A SMILE I SEE FROM THE OSCAR PIASTRI??"
"LEAVE US ALONE PIERRE"
And he's back.
...
Sorry for not updating in a long time, I've not been myself lately😭
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