#i am offering you a helpful tip to be nice. take it or leave it.
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rythyme · 3 months ago
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so to be very clear your watchalong hack does not cover shows "old and new". honestly not sure why you would put that in the post if it doesn't work past 2017.
my friend, 2017 was 7 years ago. "old" is relative. why are you arguing semantics with me. touch grass.
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yuujispinkhair · 1 year ago
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Hey Winter, What are your thoughts on a friends with benefits trope with Yuuji and the reader? Love your stories btw 💗💗🩷🩷
Friends with benefits with Yuuji
Yuuji loves to be friends, and he loves to fuck. So why not combine two of his favorite things? After all, he can be your best buddy and give you backshots, right?
Pairing: Yuuji x Reader (female) Genre: smut + fluff, College AU Word Count: 1.5k Warnings: 18+, smut, handjob, fingering, oral, facesitting, fucking, squirting, loud sex. All characters are of age. Banners by @/benkeibear
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It happens so naturally and without being planned or anything. Yuuji likes being your friend. He likes that you get along so well that you can laugh together and watch movies and play video games and cook together and go to fast-food restaurants in the middle of the night. He loves being best friends!
But Yuuji is also a horny boy, and he cannot stop his mind from providing him with dirty thoughts anytime you bend over and he sees your round ass right in front of his face. He cannot stop his body from reacting to being cuddled up with you under a blanket during a movie marathon and feeling your warm body press against him and your head landing in his lap, so damn close to his dick.
Yeah, he is embarrassed and feels guilty when he gets hard from watching you change in front of him. You thought it was no big deal to quickly shrug out of your shirt and sweatpants to put on a better outfit to leave the house. But Yuuji's dick decided it was a big deal, and now his honey eyes are heavy-lidded, and his tan cheeks are flushed. And you can definitely see the huge tent in your best friend's grey sweatpants.
Yuuji's sheepish smile and muttered apology don't take away the evidence that his body obviously wants you. He gulps hard as your eyes widen, and you grin while shaking your head,
"We can't go out like that, Yuu."
And he groans and nods,
"Yeah, I know! I am sorry! My dick is acting so stupid sometimes! Give me a few minutes, and it will be fine again."
He hopes he can will his erection away. Or should he just go to the bathroom and jack off? But before he can decide what to do, you take a step closer to him, and he feels a bit dizzy at the way your gaze is fixed on the bulge in his sweats while you lick your lips.
"Or... I could help you with that."
Maybe it's just meant as a joke. Maybe Yuuji is supposed to laugh and tell you to stop teasing him. But honestly, his ears are ringing, and he feels his cock twitch in interest at your words. He cannot think straight anymore. He always gets a bit stupid when he's horny. And so the only thing that comes out of his mouth is,
"You really wanna help? You don't have to..."
"It's ok, we are best friends. You are closer to me than anyone else, Yuu. And well, it's been a while since I touched a guy, and I kind of... crave it?"
Yuuji only blinks at you for a second before he nods wildly. How could he say no to such a nice offer? He's already lifting his hips and pushing down his sweats and the red boxer briefs underneath, spreading his muscular thighs and taking his fat cock in his hand and pumping it eagerly while a shaky moan escapes his lips,
"Fuck! Then yeah, help me please..."
The first touch of your fingertips to his swollen tip has him whining, and it only takes a short time before he cums all over your hand, nutting so hard that he sees stars.
Fuck, he likes that! It's so easy with you, so uncomplicated. He already likes you so much, and now he can also get his cock stroked by you and maybe even get a chance to touch you too. It really sounds like a perfect deal!
He hasn't even tucked himself back into his pants when the words tumble out of his mouth,
"Thank you... Um, can I repay the favor? I mean, you got me off, and it only seems fair that I get you off, too. Can I? Please?"
That's how you end up on his lap, naked from the waist down, two of Yuuji's thick fingers pumping in and out of your dripping wet cunt while his thumb plays with your clit, making you dig your nails into his broad shoulders and shake and tremble from the intensity of your orgasm on your best friend's hand.
Yuuji is the one who suggests the friends-with-benefits arrangement after that mind-altering experience. After all, he really likes being friends, and he really likes to fuck, so why not combine two of his favorite things? He simply cannot find any downside to that.
"So, we are best friends, and you made me cum, and I made you cum, and I really liked it. Was it good for you too? We could add that to our friendship. If it's ok with you. I mean, sometimes, you know? When we crave it. You are single, and I am single, and I don't really like going to clubs and finding someone just for one night. And you don't do that either. So, maybe we could just make each other feel good sometimes when we feel like it. Would that be ok?"
It is ok, and suddenly, your friendship is not just super fun and goofy but also super sexy.
Only two days later, you both get so riled up while sitting next to each other playing a video game that you end up sloppily making out and feeling each other up through your clothes, dry humping until you both can't take it anymore and tear at each other's clothes.
Finally, Yuuji's large hands are on your juicy ass, kneading your plump cheeks thoroughly while his eyes stare hungrily and his mouth is hanging open, drooling over himself as he looks at you on all fours in front of him, completely naked, ass wiggling teasingly for him, your pussy dripping wet and ready for him to fuck it and make you and him feel good.
Yuuji asks himself why he didn't think of this whole friends-with-benefits thing sooner! He moans so loud that the neighbors hear him when he finally sinks his fat cock into you and fucks you so good you nut three times for him and mewl his name over and over again.
The two of you start to experiment. Trying new positions, you never did before but always wanted to try. Learning each other's body and how to get the best reactions. It's shameless and easy. There are no secrets between you, no taboos. You are best friends, after all. You can tell each other everything. And do everything with each other.
You tell Yuuji no guy ever took such good care of you in bed when he pulls you on his face and eats you out for a whole hour. And it makes him so happy because he likes you so much, and you are his bestie and deserve the world, and Yuuji is delighted to give you that!
It's so natural, so easy to do this friends-with-benefits thing with you. You come to his apartment and tell him you are stressed, and Yuuji fucks you right there up against the wall and afterward on his bed and doesn't let go of you until you squirt all over his cock and are thoroughly satisfied and practically fucked dumb on his cock.
The two of you watch a movie, and your hand naturally slips into Yuuji's sweats to give him a slow handjob because you know he loves that while watching movies. And his hand slips into your pants, too, and rubs circles around your clit until you mess up your panties from cumming so much.
He groans about being so stressed from all those stupid assignments, and you crawl under his desk and give him a blow job that helps him relax, kissing his cum-stained tip afterward and smiling up at him and patting his thigh, telling him he will ace his assignment with your help.
And all the time, the two of you have so much fun, laughing about small mishaps and giggling after screaming each other's name during a particularly intense fuck. It's easy. It's fun. You know each other so well and trust each other completely. It's so freeing to just fuck each other on top of being best friends. There is no shame, no holding back, just horny, needy fucking anytime you need it.
And comforting, sweet kisses and warm cuddles.
You both don't realize that you are practically already a couple. Maybe the kissing marathons should give it away, the hours cuddled up in bed where you just kiss and talk and smile at each other. Maybe the fact that neither of you even tries to get to know someone else should be an indicator.
The two of you go to a party together, which is a perfectly normal thing best friends do. Ok, Yuuji admits that the way you dance with each other is a bit dirtier than only friends would do, but he is fine with people knowing you are friends with benefits, and this is nothing new after all.
But what is new is that you kiss him right there in the middle of the dancefloor, and it somehow makes Yuuji feel so proud that he is the only one you kiss. He finds that he can't pull away from you, and so he just keeps kissing you, just keeps pulling you tighter against his body, making out with you until his head spins.
It is Nobara who asks the question when she walks into the kitchen later on and sees how Yuuji has you pressed up against the fridge with his tongue down your throat and your fingers in his pink hair.
"What the fuck? Why didn't you two tell me you are dating??"
"Because we aren't."
"When what is this?"
"We are friends... friends who make out and... have sex sometimes."
"Don't give me that shit. The two of you have practically been married for two years. Everyone says that. We were just wondering why you never made it official. Oh well, the cat's out of the bag now. Quick, let me text everyone!!"
And with that, Nobara leaves Yuuji and you standing there, your fingers still tangled in Yuuji's soft pink strands, your lips still swollen from his kisses, and finally, something clicks in his mind, and he smiles his sheepish smile at you and is like,
"I didn't know I am a married man, but I kinda like it. What about you?"
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HE MAKES ME FEEL SO AAAHHHH!!!! I ruined my panties writing this. Thank you so much for sending me this prompt!! I see Yuuji as the best guy for friends to lovers, and the friends-with-benefits trope is the perfect way to get there!! I really think he is incapable of keeping things casual but also kind of oblivious until someone else points it out ;)
I love horny boy Yuuji!! I hope you like him too!!
Please let me know what you think. Reblogs and comments would be super sweet 💗
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xxblairexxss · 1 year ago
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A fresh start
Pairing : Charles Leclerc x singlemom!reader
Theme : Angst, fluff
Word count : 4.2k
Part 2
Requested!
In which Charles had a crush on the new member of the team without knowing he was already a good friend of her toddler.
It gets a little heavy near the end so heads up! Not proofread!
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"There seems to be a problem with the downforce. It kind of eats the tyre quite a lot."
Charles felt a touch on his hip while he was too busy listening to the engineers. Looking down, he saw a small kid patting on his leg, while the other hand seemed to be offering him something. "Hey, are you giving this to me?" He asked, pulling the headset from his ear as he crouched down.
"Yeah! My mom always gives me candy whenever I am stressed with my homework. You can—oh." The little kid fumbled with the wrapping paper that was securely wrapped around the lollipop. "I can’t take the plastic off for you. Sorry…"
"Oh, it’s okay. Let me help you." Charles twiddled with the wrapper as it went loose before he pulled it off. "There! Oh, for me? Are you sure?"
"No stress! Bye bye!" The toddler waved and sprinted off, leaving Charles with the strawberry lollipop in his hand.
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"Any idea who she is?" Charles nudged Joris and tipped his chin towards the girl who was across the room.
"She’s part of the communication executive." Joris took a quick glance and went back to his phone.
"I have never seen her before." His eyes were latched on the girl, seeing the way she talked with her hands, nodding and smiling at whatever the other girl was talking about.
"She just joined the team."
"What’s her name?" Charles nudged Joris again, causing him to heave a sigh and stand up.
"Y/N!" Joris called out.
"Joris! What the fuck?" Charles slapped his friend’s leg and looked away. The phone in his hand seemed to be looking much more interesting, though it wasn’t even turned on. While his fingers were dancing and tapping on any random buttons on his phone, his ears were listening to the conversation—well, more like listening to her voice. It was weird how he had never seen her before, but Joris seemed to be getting along with her very well.
"That was Y/N." Joris gave a smile, stealing a peep from Charles’s phone, and laughed when he saw it was on camera, capturing Charles’s face from an angle below. "Nice picture, by the way. Is that why you couldn’t stop looking at it when she was here?"
"Very unnecessary, Joris. You could have just told me her name." He threw his cap on and stood up to leave the room.
"I thought you wanted to get to know her." Joris exclaimed, seeing his best friend walking away.
"I can figure that one myself!"
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"Charlie!"
"Hey, Adam! Give me a five!" He bent down as the little one hopped and touched their hands together. This has been his fourth time seeing him, and every single time, his visit would get longer and longer. The first time he met the kid, he just dropped by to give him candy and walked away. This time, he came by with candy and shared a few little jokes and games.
"Do you always wander around the paddock alone? Your dad never gets mad." He ripped the top off the candy and handed it to the kid.
"No, mommy won’t be mad if I just stay around the red garage. Oh! Sour!" His face scrunched up, making the driver cackle.
"Oh? You’re with your mom? Dang, this is sour." He made a face and shivered as the sourness hit.
"Yeah, I’m with mommy! Daddy is…" He looked down, his bottom lips jutting out. Charles knew right away it wasn’t something light if this was the reaction coming from a 4-year-old kid, so he cut the topic short.
"You don’t have anything sweet in there? I’m not a fan of sour candy."
Adam patted his pockets and shook his head. "No more candy! I stole that from mommy. Shh, she didn’t know." He put his pointy finger on his lips and giggled.
"Your secret is safe with me, buddy. I have to go. See you around, Adam!" Charles stood up and gave the little one a pat on the head before he went to get Andrea for his short meeting before the press conference.
"This will be your..." 
Charles was slapped with what felt like a brick when it was just a file of papers, but the sting was unexpected, causing him to lean back as he covered one side of his face with his hand.
"Oh! I’m so sorry! Are you okay? Did I just slap you?"
Chuckling, he shook his head and pressed his palm on his eyes—the ones that just got slapped on. "No, no. Well, yes, I’m okay. Are you–"  Her beauty from up close astounded him, erasing all vocabularies in his head as he went blank. "You are beautiful," he muttered.
"Sorry?"
"Oh? Oh, nothing. Y/N, right?" He offered a handshake with the widest grin. "I’m Charles."
"Everyone knows who you are, Charles." You laughed, accepting the handshake. "How do you know my name? I never properly introduced myself."
"Oh, Joris told me." He answered, his eyes still on her, making him look like a fool without realising it.
"Do you have anything else to say? Because I need to." She pointed the other way. "I need to head there."
He pulled himself back to his senses and stepped aside. "Oh, sorry about that. I’m not going to hold you any longer."
"Sorry about that. Good luck in the qualifying round!"
"Oh, wait! Is this yours?" He crouched down and took the sour candies on his feet. The same one he got from the kid
"Oh, yeah! Must have slipped off my hand. Thank you!"
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"Mommy, look!"
You took the paper that he handed to you and cackled at the drawing. "What is this, sweetheart?"
"Guess, mommy! Look, I drew the moustache too." He pointed at the little lines, wearing the proudest smile.
"A moustache? Is that a cat?"
"Yes! Like the one we used to have!" He started collecting all of his marker pens and coloured pencils, placing them in his small pencil case as he saw you start packing your stuff. "Are we going back already?"
"Yeah, mommy’s all done with my work, so we can head back early. Should we go on a little date and get ice cream?" Shutting down your laptop, you placed them in the case when Adam seemed to be rushing to go somewhere with his little backpack. "Where are you going?"
"Mommy, wait! I haven’t met Charlie!"
"What even is Charlie?" You muttered, picking up the missing marker pens he had missed for rushing.
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"Hey, munchkin! I was waiting for you." Charles grinned and offered his hand for a high five. "Where have you been?"
"Oh! I’m going back already. Wait!" He sneaked his little hand into his pocket and frowned when he couldn’t find the thing he was looking for. Charles then saw him pull his arms off his small backpack and sneak his little hand inside the small compartment. "This is for you!"
"You are going home? Why?" Taking the small Mars bar from the little one, he kept it in his hand as he helped him put on his backpack again.
"Mommy’s done with her work early today, so I’m going out on a date!"
Charles grabbed his little arm before he could sprint away. "You? You are going out on a date? Wait, with who?"
"Adam!"
The driver’s facial expression went blank as he heard the voice. The little arm in his hand slipped off as he saw the little one run and hug the legs of the woman he has been dying to talk to over the past couple of months.
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"Mommy!"
You ruffled his hair as he crashed into you. "Have you met your Charlie?" Bending down, you squeezed his chubby cheeks as you took his hand in yours.
"Yes! That’s Charlie!" He exclaimed, pointing at someone.
You saw Charles still crouching down with a Mars bar in his hand. He was already looking at you as you laid your eyes on him. He looked surprised and stunned, as he didn’t seem to catch the smile you gave.
"He's—he’s yours? Adam, is your kid?" He queried, taking steps closer.
"Yeah, he’s my son. Wait–" Looking down, you cupped his little cheek. "Adam, Charlie, is Charles? Is this the friend you have been giving your candy away to?"
"Yes!" he squealed.
You thought he had been making friends with a cat or any other person, but not with an actual driver, because who would have thought he would have the most time in the world to be friends with a 4-year-old kid? "I’m so sorry if he had been bothering you. I truly had no idea about that.”
"It’s okay, Y/N. I got free candies." He showed the Mars bar he had in his hand, making you chuckle.
"I am going out on a date with mommy. Do you want to come?"
His words became a mumble as you quickly covered his mouth. "Charlie is busy, Adam." Tilting your head back and facing the driver, you asked the little one to wave before walking away. "I’ll get going now. Say bye, Adam."
"Bye, Charlie!"
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"What’s with that smile?" Joris peeked his head to look at the little kid, who kept looking back every now and then to wave his little hand at the driver.
"Nothing." Charles ripped off the Mars bar in his hand and took a bite of it, cocking his brow at Joris, who seemed to have more questions. "What?"
"Nothing." He mimicked Charles’s expression and moved away before he could get hit in the head.
"You didn’t tell me she had a kid." Charles blurted.
"I thought you wanted to figure it out yourself. Why? Does it change anything?"
"What do you mean?" He queried, taking another bite from the chocolate bar.
"Does it change your little crush on her now that you know she has a kid?"
"No, not at all. I like her even more now." He chuckled and did a double take on his friend. "Wait, how do you know I have a crush on her?"
"Because you aren’t being too discreet about it. I bet Adam knew it too. Give me that." Joris snatched the chocolate bar from the driver’s hand and took the last bite. "You shouldn’t eat too much sweet for your diet, you know."
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"Adam, I need your help." The sound of music in the room was cut off when the driver finally spoke what had been in his head for weeks. Charles was lying down on the couch in his driver room with his little friend, while the little one was too busy colouring the dinosaur from his book.
"More candy?" He asked, switching to a different colour pencil from his case.
"No, not candy. I wanted to ask your mom on a date." He put his phone away and sat up, looking at the little one full of anticipation.
"No."
"Wait, what? Why?" Charles stood up and took a seat by Adam’s side. He casually started participating in the colouring activity as he took a blue pencil and started filling in the tail section of the dinosaur. "I thought we were friends?"
"Mommy only goes on a date with me."
"She might want to go on a date with me." He assured him, helping him change to a different coloured pencil.
"I don’t want mommy to cry again, so, no. I need to go now!" He stood up and packed his colourful stuff inside his little backpack with the help of the driver.
"I won’t make her cry, Adam." Charles handed him his colouring book as the toddler stood up to leave.
"That’s what Daddy used to say too. Bye bye, Charlie!"
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"Charlie hurt?" 
"Yes, sweetheart. He crashed today, so you shouldn’t bug him, okay? Just stay here." You pinched his little cheek before handing him his iPad. "Not too long. Turn it off when mommy says so, alright?"
Adam did listen to you and stayed in the break room while you sorted out a few things before race day tomorrow. There wasn’t any meeting until the next hour, so you got to do your work while listening to your kid watch Coco ten times this weekend.
Until you heard a knock on the door,
"Hi. Uhm, I’m looking for Adam." Your eyes widened as the driver peeked his head inside the room.
"Charlie!" He put his iPad to the side and hopped off the couch to run straight into Charles’s arms.
"Why didn’t you come to see me?"
"Mommy said I shouldn’t bug you. Are you okay?" You chuckled when he cupped the driver’s cheeks with his small hands.
"Yeah, I’m okay. Wait, actually, not really."
To that, Adam gasped and covered his mouth with his hands. "Oh, no! You need candy?"
"Come here." Charles pulled your son to the end of the room, so you were no longer able to eavesdrop on the conversation.
You saw those two start whispering something, giggling, and laughing while you were left out. "Bye Charlie!" He waved as the driver trod, leaving the break room.
"Bye, munchkin. See you, Y/N. You look beautiful in a ponytail, by the way."
You were taken back by the sudden compliment, and your hand went to stroke your hair now that he mentioned it. "But I always have my hair tied?"
"Yeah, that’s what I meant." He gave a wink before walking away, leaving you and your toddler, who seemed to find the whole situation funny.
"What did he tell you?" You tried to pry into their business, acting casual by going back to your work.
"It’s a secret!" He winked, which looked more like a face scrunch as he went back on his iPad, making you frown in confusion.
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"Go! Open the door!"
"I can’t. Give me a second."
"Why?"
"I’m nervous, buddy."
"I’ll open it for you!"
"No, no!"
You were staying in the break room, playing with your phone while your little one stayed outside, watching an army of people in the paddock celebrate the drivers on the podium. He had promised to stay just outside the room so you wouldn’t have to worry about him being in the crowd, but minutes later, you kept hearing whispers right outside the door. You weren’t sure who the owner of the other one was, but you were so sure one of them belonged to your son.
"Mommy?" 
"The door is not locked, love. Just come in." You replied and went back to your phone, expecting him to walk in, but he didn’t.
"Go, Charlie!”
"Is there anything wrong?" Placing the phone away, you pushed the door open and saw that your toddler kept on pushing the driver towards your door. "Charles? Do you need anything?"
"Y/N. Actually–"
"Charlie wants to ask you out on a date!" Adam cut in.
The words made you flabbergasted. That was impossible. Why would he ask you out on a date when every woman he met on a daily basis dressed up way better and had better body shape than you?
And they were single. While you were a divorcee, you even had a kid.
"Stop joking around, Adam. Leave Charlie alone, okay?" Adam hid behind the driver as you tried to grab his arm, giggling while hugging Charles’s legs.
"Would you go out on a date with me?"
You gave a dry smile and shook your head right away. "Sorry, Charles. I have a kid, remember? Who’s going to take care of him if I—“
"Joris will play with me! Right, Charlie?" He pulled on the Ferrari’s shirt, chuckling as he felt Charles’s hand on his neck.
"Joris agreed to take care of Adam for one night. They are best friends." Charles assured.
"I can’t, Charles. I’m so sorry."
He followed you inside while Adam stayed outside to find Joris. "But why?" You ignored him. "Y/N, why?"
"I should be asking you that. Why me? I don’t get it. I have a kid, Charles." You took your phone and started taking your laptop bag.
"And what’s wrong with that?"
"Nothing’s wrong, but you have all those hot girls ready for you to ask them out. I am way out of your league, Charles." 
He held your arm to stop you from walking out of the room. "I got Adam’s permission, and I promised him that I was going to take you out. Please give me a chance."
"How did you get his permission?"
You saw him awkwardly smile as he scratched the back of his neck. "He promised me his permission if I ended up in the top 5 this weekend."
Laughing, you rolled your eyes at how ridiculous the deal was.
"Is that a yes?" He tilted his head, having a little faith in how the tension in the room seemed to die down.
"Fine. Just one date."
To that, he bit his lips and threw up a fist. "Yes! You’ll be in Maranello next weekend, yeah? I’ll pick up."
"Sure, I’ll send you the address."
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"Be nice to Joris, alright?"
"Mommy looks very pretty!" He placed both of his palms on your cheeks and gave you a kiss before hugging you by the neck. "Have fun with Charlie! Let me know if he makes you cry, and I’ll." He showed you his little fist. "I’ll hit him!"
Giggling, you kiss him back on his cheek. "I thought you said he was nice."
"Yeah, Charlie is very nice. That’s why I let him take mommy out on a date." He ran towards the main door as Joris helped put his sneakers on. "Bye mommy!"
Back then, when he was born, you always worried if you were able to raise him all on your own. If you could take on both responsibilities as his mother and father figure at a young age, You were grateful enough, as he had grown up to be a very gentle and cheerful kid, despite what he had witnessed occasionally whenever your ex-husband paid a visit. He was never a good dad. He never wanted to be one. Adam barely called him dad. He never knew what it felt like to have a dad, but he would always reassure you that he was glad enough to have the perfect mom. Though you tried to keep your marriage problems between you and your ex-husband, Adam was smart enough to figure out what his dad was like. Whenever your ex-husband came by, you would always get bruises on your body. Maybe that was why your little one grew up to be very protective of you, despite his age.
Charles had told you he was a few minutes away, so you weren’t expecting to see your former spouse when you opened the door.
"Where are you going?" He pushed the door and walked inside as if he had any right to do so.
"It’s none of your business. Please leave."
"It’s my house. Where’s Adam? And why are you all dressed up?" He scanned you up and down, smirking as if you looked humorous.
"Leave, please."
"Come on, baby. I haven’t seen you for months. I have missed you."
You pressed your lips into a thin line, feeling the tears well up in your eyes. Whenever you were home, he would always come by to ask for sex. He would beat you up if you ever resisted any of his attempts, but you would rather get beaten than be in the same bed with him again. You were just glad Adam wasn’t here to witness it all again. "Leave me alone!" You yelled, pushing him off from pinning your body against the wall.
"You fucking bitc—who’s that?" His hand, which was about to hit you in the face, came to an abrupt stop when the doorbell rang.
"It’s no one." The doorbell rang again.
"Go and open the door. It’s fucking annoying." He pushed you on your head, making you jerk forward towards the door.
You wiped on your tears that rolled down your cheeks before twisting the lock as you were greeted by Charles, with his dimples that went shallow as soon as he saw you.
"Y/N? Are you crying?"
You let out a sob and tilted your face away from the tears that rolled down your cheeks again. "I’m sorry, I can’t make it today."
"What’s wrong? Did something happen?" He gently tilted your face and felt his stomach drop when he saw your broken expression. "What happened, Y/N?"
"I–" You sobbed again.
"She wants you to leave, kid."
Charles pushed the door wider as he walked in and stood in front of you. "Who are you?"
"I’m her husband."
You felt his hand on your arm as he pulled you closer; his gaze was still locked on the older guy.
Charles let out a chuckle, seeing how absurd this whole situation was. "So, you are the ex-husband. Well, I don’t think it was me who wasn’t supposed to be in here."
"Kid, this is my house, and that bitch that you are touching is mine." He snarled.
"Don’t call me that. And she’s not yours." Charles furrowed at the man, feeling your hand gripping his arm.
"Ah, so she’s yours now? Did you claim her yet?"
"She’s not mine. She’s no one's possession because she’s not a fucking item. You should leave." His teeth were clenched as his gaze pierced the man. "Leave before I call the cops on you."
"I’ll get going first, baby. See you when this motherfucker is gone, yeah?" You flinched when you felt his cold skin on your cheek.
"Don’t fucking touch her." Charles yanked his hand away and locked the door after the older man was gone, leaving you and him alone.
"Did he hurt you?" Charles cupped on your face, heaving a sigh of relief when there wasn’t anything serious as you shook your head at his question.
Charles wanted to ask a lot of questions, but you were still shaken up by the whole thing, so he grabbed you by your hand as both of you settled down on the couch.
"You can leave, Charles. I’m sorry for ruining your night."
"It wasn’t your fault, Y/N. And who said the date was ruined? Adam told me you love pizza, so are you up for a pizza night?" He found himself grinning when he saw that little smile on your beautiful face.
It was supposed to be a romantic dinner date; instead, you were sitting on the couch with a box of pizza while watching a Disney movie. Charles had to pick out the pineapple on every slice of pizza and vocally judged you on your preference because there was no way he could eat a pizza with a pineapple together.
But it was a very fun night. It was enough to make you completely forget what had happened earlier, but enough to not make the day all about that.
"Y/N, can I ask something?" He picked out another pineapple, trying so hard not to make a disgusted face, which made you laugh.
"Is this about what happened?" You confirmed.
"Yeah, but if you don’t feel comfortable answering, then it’s fine." Charles took a bite of his now pineapple-free pizza.
"No, it’s okay. You can ask." You collected the pineapple he picked off and ate it on its own.
"How long?"
"How long has it been since he did that? It was on and off. If he got a new girlfriend, he would stop coming by for a couple of months." You saw the look he had on you, and it made you feel sad at how bad your life has turned out to be.
"You didn’t report to the police?"
"I did, but I never got any further updates. I even tried to move away, but he always managed to find me back. Which is why I’m always happy whenever I have to travel for work. That way, he won’t be able to ruin my life, and Adam could live his life as a child without having to worry about me." You looked away as you started to clean up the empty box as an excuse so you wouldn’t have to look at his face any longer or you would be crying again.
"I’ll see what I can do. It’s about time for the authority to take action about this. I promise I’ll help you."
"Thank you, Charles. I owe you a lot. I really don’t know how to pay you back." You beamed and dipped your hand in the small box.
"You still owe me a proper date?"
"Fine, make it the second date. Do you want candy?" You handed him one as you popped one in your mouth.
"Ah!" Charles blurted it out, making you jump. "How could I miss this?" He took the sour candy and burst out laughing. It was the same candy that he had been getting from Adam way before he found out he was related to you. "Adam had been stealing your sour candies all this time to share them with me."
"Really?" You laughed along, connecting the dots as to why your candy seemed to be way less than it should have been.
"Guess I love sour candies now." He threw one into his mouth and shivered at the sourness.
✧.* general tag list! @i83andrew @cltrlne @karmabyfernando @ohthemisssery @ru-kru @tastebaldwin @f1obessed @love4lando @shinrjj @ietss @leclerc13 @darleneslane @buckybarnessweetheart @xcinnamongirl @boiohboii @formula1mount @judespoision
If your usernames were crossed, meaning I can’t tag you! Let me know if you would like to be removed or to be added to the tag list! Or if I missed anyone!
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hazelfoureyes · 11 months ago
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Someone nice, Somewhere safe
Angel x Virgin Female Reader
જ⁀➴ Angel x Virgin Male Reader - Someone nice, somewhere safe*
*same story, just your bits and bobbles are changed 
You let it slip to the group you were a virgin, and instead of laughing, Angel grabs you before bed to offer a friendly hand.
.<Warnings/Promises: Angel Dust x Virgin Female!Reader, smut, fingering, lubed to the gods, Angel uses four arms, Valentino is a blind bag of smashed assholes, creampie, oral, the gentlest sex I’ve ever written (probably), an alarming towel>
listen here virgins, if I could craft a perfect first time for you, this is it. Minus the lack of condoms because—it’s hell? Sex workers are tested bi-weekly?? This is still a fantasy??? Just if anything, please take from this the importance of a safe and trusting environment at all times 🙏  
minor dni (shoo! get outta here! Go on, git! 🧹)
You thought everyone would laugh when you said you were a virgin. The group awe’d and said it was cute, which was definitely better than the response you’d gotten in the overworld. But when you said you’d never actually orgasmed before, everyone just looked… sad? The conversation was quickly derailed by Angel launching into a list of wildest orgasm faces he’s seen, Charlie leaving the room entirely.
Continuing with the evening’s theme of surprise, you hadn’t expected Angel to catch up to you when everyone was filing off to bed. His hand gently reached for your wrist, “Hey ya got a sec?”
 For Angel, the epitome of smiling through the pain, you’d give him the remainder of your time in hell if he just asked. Every second, his.“Always!”
“So uh”, he rubbed the back of his neck, “about bein’ a virgin and all that.” Your stomach dropped, was the famous porn star about to embarrass you into a second death?“I think it’s real important that like— knowin’ yourself, and what makes you feel good is like super healthy. I dunno if you are interested in that kinda stuff but,” he was wildly moving his hands round, nervously stumbling over his words, “I’d be happy to help ya out.”
All of the blood rushed to your face.
“Oh fuck!” Angel grabbed your head and tipped it forward, “I would have accepted a simple no, jesus!” With one hand pinching your nose, he led you into his room just down the hall. 
What�� what was happening, exactly? At all? In general? With your entire existence?
He kicked the door closed behind him and grabbed a handful of tissues, “Keep your head forward. Everyone who says tilt it back is an idiot.”
His hand was red when he drew it from your face, using his other hand to now hold tissues between his fingers as he pinched your nose shut.
“Is- is my nose bleeding??” Your voice cracked.
“Does that happen often?”
“Never.”
“Well I got to help you with at least one first, right?” Angel laughed, moving his hands away as you took over the task.
Oh, right. The offer. You glanced around the room, small but lived-in. Everything was pink and purple and soft.
“Angel, do you think because you’re a sex worker, you have to help me?” The room fell silent. Angel completely still beside you. You would love someone you could trust to take your virginity, but you would never want to use Angel like so many other people did on a daily basis.
“Ya know— a lot of people get real confused about this.” He sighed, chest heavy with the many misconceptions others had, “What I do for work, what I gotta do to get through the day, has nothin’ to do with who I am as a person.” You turned to look at him, “Why should I limit my experiences because of what other people have done to me?” The words hit you like a truck. You had unintentionally boxed him into his job, in turn into his trauma, summing him up as a warm body and incapable of any depth past that. Just a sex worker.
“No, no I didn’t mean anything like that. I just, I don’t want to ever,” you grabbed two of his hands, “ever take advantage of your kindness.” You squeezed, “or any part of you.”
His frown turned up, “We’re dead, yea, but you still exist. If you want to, you should enjoy every part of your afterlife. And I’d hate you to meet some asshole who’s too rough or doesn’t get ya warmed up first. A bad first time can be really traumatizin’.”
You nodded without actually thinking. Your brain wasn’t really processing meaning, his words were just soft and kind and your nose still stuffed full of tissue.
“Do you wanna?”
You nodded more vigorously, “Did my nose start bleeding again?”
Angel took the tissue away, giving a second to see, “Nope.”
Taking a deep breath, you said, “Okay. Yeah, I want that. Someone nice, somewhere safe.”
“It ain’t quite nice but-,” Angel looked around his room.
“It’s perfect, Angel.”
“Aw fuck, I should clean up,” he hurriedly carried trash from his nightstand, flattening out the comforter and adjusting his pillows. He placed fat nuggets on the floor with a little pat on the head.
Finally, he stood in front of you, two hands on his hips, two gesturing to you.
“Alright baby! Let’s pop some cherries! Undress~” he elongated the word, shimmying his hips a little, “-to your comfort level.” He began to unbutton his blazer, “Bare minimum, take off your pants and underwear, please and thank you. Though I have fucked through underwear…” He was momentarily lost in a memory.
You hadn’t anticipated getting naked in front of a friend tonight. But Angel so effortlessly shed his clothes, peeling off his gloves. Pulling off your pants, you paused.
“Is it weird if I keep my shirt on? Like— do you know who Winnie the Pooh is?”
“Nothin’ weird about bein’ comfortable, pookie.” He pinched your cheek, “I’d offer a modesty blanket but I kinda need to see what I’m doing.” His eyes flitted to the left, “No, wanna. I wanna see.” Angel’s laugh relaxed you, the idea of anyone wanting to see you made you feel a little less—-naked. Still, your hands seemed frozen on your underwear’s edge.
With a hum, he disappeared into the bathroom and returned with a towel. “Go on, lie down. I’ll help ya relax. This is already feeling too medical-like.”
Were you going to need a towel? Were you going to need a towel?? Were you going to need a towel!?
You sat back on his bed, and when he crawled up to meet you, all legs and arms and Angel Dust, you buried your face in your hands.
“Oh hey—,” his voice was so soft, lacking its usual sass, “Wanna just, cuddle and watch stupid shit on my phone?” You groaned, face sinking further down. This would be easier if he wasn’t so sweet. You could at least take a backseat, then.
You shook your head, and felt his hand on your ankle. It snaked up your calf, slipped down your knee and thigh, finding the waistband of your underwear. When you looked up from your hiding place, Angel was a foot from your face. His features lit only by the purple neon signs hanging beside his bed and near the door. He lifted his brows, a question he didn’t need to vocalize. You sank back into the purple and pink pillows, different sizes, different textures, gently enveloping you.
With two hands now, he slide off your underwear. You might die, again. Your heart would give out any second, incapable of handling the moment. You were manually breathing.
He lifted your hips with two hands, a third sliding the towel beneath you before setting you back down.
“Do ya-,” he was rummaging now inside the nightstand drawer, “not play with yourself? Ever?”
“Not really. Not like, there.”
“Whaddya do with all your free time?” His short but enthusiastic laughter forced a smile to your cheeks. Angel slid the drawer shut and came to rest in front of your tightly shut thighs and knees. You heard a cap pop, and found the courage to sit up and see what he was doing.
“What?” He squeezed a clear, thick lubricant onto his right hand, “Nerves can make holes dry like nothin’ else. No fun for no one, trust me. Could start a fuckin’ fire—- and spit ain’t lube!” Angel said it like he spoke from a personal experience.
Ah, the towel. That made sense now.
“Should I do something?”
“Just lie back, baby~,” he opened your knees and followed your face as you settled back down, “Do you like kissin’?”
You’d kiss a trashcan if Angel said it got him hot, so, “Yeah.”
“Good,” One hand touched your cheek, sliding to your chin as he brought your lips to his. You thought you’d melt, his hands so soft on you, lips confident and sure. He used his thumb on your chin to pull down your bottom lip and ask you for entrance. When you opened up to him, his tongue slid into yours as his sticky wet hand finally came into contact between your legs. Two fingers rubbing the lube up and a down your pussy.
You nearly inhaled him with your shock, he giggled into it, “You’re so cute.” You twitched under his hand, “Ooh, and reactive! Daddy likes.”
Stop. Stop talking. I’m going to black out.
His mouth returned to yours, tongue over your tongue, as his fingers just massaged your entrance. No attempt at entering, no prodding, just gentle up and down motions. Slowly, your felt your skin heating beneath his hand, the lubricant somewhat melting with your warmth.
At work, Angel was never the lead. Never the top, and never afforded time to ease anyone open. He had no issues with sleeping with women, it was just usually for money or a shoot. Not his preferred flavor, but he could still get it up. Watching you sigh and twitch under him felt like a treat. Such a sweet response to what so many people made unnecessarily dirty at work. He wasn’t shocked to find his cock twitching, swelling as your breathing hitched with every stroke of his hand. When was the last time he could just… slow down? Be the one in control? Not control like Val, control like—- can I get you a pillow? Is the pacing good? Let’s soften these lights.  Hold my hand, sweetheart.
His head felt a little dizzy. His middle finger pressed now, and with a slow but constant motion entered you. ‘Uncomfortable’ was the best word. Your body tensed around him, but he gently pressed passed your virgin walls. He hummed, “First one down! Atleast,” he paused, “two more to go.”
“Atleast??” You shook your head.
“It’s sex math, trust the professional in the room.” He withdrew the finger and slid it back in, starting a slow pace of long drags from knuckle to fingertip.
It didn’t hurt, to his credit. The excitement of having Angel touching you so intimately made the finger easier to relax into. Angel must have noticed, his finger leaving you. He popped the top again of his lube and pressed in two fingers. This was harder. You whined, his fingertips pushing past the tight entrance of your cunt and settling into the wet warmth behind.
Lying on your back, you stared at the now upside-down photos behind his bed. He looked so happy. Could you join that wall? Was this wall worthy?
“You still good?” He leaned over you, fingers  moving.
You nodded, “Can I have another kiss?”
Ah, you might as well have punched him in the chest. “Of course, darlin’~ Ask and you shall receive.” You liked kissing, genuinely, but were always scared you’d kiss someone too long and end up in an awkward situation having to explain you weren’t wanting sex. But that fear was all gone, you’d broken the code. Get naked first, then kiss.
You smiled into his mouth, and he smiled back, “Whatcha thinkin’ about?”
“I like kissing you.” You leaned up, pressing your lips to his chin. His fingers quickened, and you moaned without warning. You felt your self grip his finger, nervousness slinking away and finally letting you feel aroused.
“Ooh, now we’re gettin’ somewhere,” he leaned back, repeating the same steps and trying to press a third finger into you. His abundance of hands were a blessing, one at your entrance, one on your knee to keep your shaking legs open, and two roaming down the sides of your body. When three fingers finally entered, you could feel the burning stretch of your skin around them. He pushed in, and the skin followed. He pulled out, your sensitive hole pulling too. The hand on your knee came to your crotch, his palm pressing lightly down on your clit. You glanced up to him, his eyes focused as he watched his fingers slowly drag in and out of you. It burned still, but just past that burning was a slippery sensation that made your lap warm with the rush of blood.
He let his fingers sink in entirely, before bending and feeling inside you. Your knee jumped when he hit something.
“Bingo! Say hello to your g-spot.” He beamed down at you, gold tooth shining, “Not everyone needs it to cum but oooh boooy does it maximize pleasure,” it sounded so pornographic when he said it.
You weakly copied, “B-bingo.” 
“Three fingers means I can do this now~” he replaced his palm with his fingers,  sticky with lube. His long digits were fast and practiced as he rubbed your clit. “Sex math. Dont need your virgin pussy locking up on me.” He said quietly to himself, fingers in and out of you picking up speed. Your head was pressing into the pillows as your neck strained, you’d never masturbated while someone, something, penetrated you. Every stroke of his fingers made your body spasm, the feeling of something hard and unforgiving pushing back against your quivering walls made a pleasure you couldn’t describe.
“Feelin’ good yet?” The way he said it, he knew damn well how you were feeling.
You whimpered into one of the pillows, “Yeah, it’s starting to feel good.” A weak nod.
Angel’s grin bordered on wicked, hand slowing. He leaned down and placed a kiss on your clit. Then another. His tongue flattened against his bottom lip as he dragged it over your sensitive bud of nerves.
You moaned, a half spoken-half cried, “Oh fuck, Angel-.” Hips bucking up, his fingers kept their place and followed. You humped up against his tongue, ground down into his fingers; up, down. Soft tongue, rigid fingers.
“Like that? Watch this,” He cupped his mouth over your clit and began strumming it with his tongue. Fat and flat, then thin and sharp. His fingers slowed, now just bending to hit your soft g-spot again and again. 
One hand held tightly to the pillow, the other coming to Angel’s hair. Your body kept jumping away from overstimulation but you fought against it every time and tried to grind against his face.
He lifted his mouth off you with a deliberate pop, “Feelin’ good?” You nodded, eyes closed. “Ready for the real thing?”
“Yeah. I want to feel more, Angel.” It came out as more of a whine than you meant.
His hand came to his erection, red and leaking. Stroking himself, he returned to massaging at your entrance, fingers dipping in then out.
“You comfortable with getting on your knees? This position ain’t so conducive for what I’m tryin’ to do.”
Somehow, ass up sounded better than face to face, “You’re the expert.” You rolled onto your stomach, hips up, face resting into the sea of pillows. You paused, lifted off your now sweaty shirt, and got back into position. 
“Sexpert, but thank you!” The lid popped open again, cold and viscous lube being dripped directly onto pussy, “Finally some recognition around here.” He coated himself with what was still on his hands, and raised your hips to line himself up.
“Deep breaths, okay?” He leaned over your back, kisses falling down your skin. Two hands held your hips, one guided himself into you. You tensed when his head began to push in, “Relaaax, just like the fingers.”
A muffled, “okay” from your place in the pile. Your heart was suddenly racing, the tight coil of pleasure his mouth summoned now gone. He wiped his dick up and down your folds, swiping past your entrance. Lining up, he pushed in, getting his head firmly sunk into you.
“Breath, baby,” he moaned into your shoulder. You took a deep breath in, your body tight still. But, it didn’t hurt like you’d thought. It burned, but there was no sting, no tearing. Angel’s hands ran up and down your sides, along you ass and thighs. He gently touched everywhere he could reach, until he felt you soften, “Ready to keep going?”
“Yes please”, you turned your head to look at him.
He pulled out slightly to collect more lube on his shaft, before slowly sinking into you until he bottomed out.
You were gasping, your brain misfiring. You couldn’t feel anything but him, your body just a formless thought with Angel’s warm, solid cock reaching deeper into than you thought possible. One roaming hand reached for your shoulder, “Can I move?”
“Slow,” your hand searched for a loose fold of comforter to grip, but it was soon encased and intertwined by one of his.
He pulled out, and slowly thrust back in. A saccharine moan fell from his mouth, and it made you whimper. 
You were so soft around him, yet gripping him so snuggly he felt like he was melting into your walls. His breath was unsteady, “You feel so good on my cock, baby.” A burning blush took over your face, a rush of pleasure electrifying your clit.
“How ya doin’?” Angel sounded nervous, timid.
You had to collect saliva to get any words out, mouth running dry from panting, “S’good.” You tried again, “So good.” Your fingers tightened around his.
He adjusted his hips, watching you closely. When your eyes closed and your hand nearly broke his, he grinned down, “Bingo~,” his speed began to pick up. 
“Right there,” you whimpered, “please don’t stop, right there Angel.” You dragged out the last syllable of his name. You could feel a pressure building in your lower stomach. 
Angel took languid thrusts out to the tip and pushing back past your still resisting entrance. Every time he pulled out and slipped in felt better than before. The sensations of him opening you around his cock again and again had your stomach and thighs tensing. You brought your hand up to press at your clit, finger frantically moving. You felt something building, you were desperate to reach its climax.
Angel’s hand came down and pushed yours aside, his fingers strong and not shaking with your impending orgasm. 
“Almost- Angel pleeeease! Don’t stop- keep—” You squeezed his hand tighter, his thrusts becoming faster and shallower. His repeated pressing of your g-spot pushed you over the edge, hand slowing only slightly.
"You can do it, baby. Come on. Almost there~" His words fell apart in his mouth, his own moans getting louder, your cunt tightening in spasms as your first orgasm tore through you. Your body was so inviting, warm walls sucking his head deeper. He rarely got to feel this sensation, barely ever chosen as the one doing the fucking, let alone fucking a woman. His head rested against your back, hands running along the curve of your hips as he melted into your sweet heat.
He picked up speed, only drawing out an inch or so now with each thrust. The lube made a pop and squelch every time his skin pulled from yours, the sound making his legs weak.
“Where can I cum?” His breath was raspy, messy with the pleasure of your soft insides rubbing along his shaft. You gripped the blanket, orgasm still rolling from the feeling of Angel chasing his release with your body. You could hear the strain in his voice, “Gonna need an answer real fast, babe.” You hid your face in the pillow mountain again, embarrassed to answer.
“Inside,” you tried to say it loudly enough for him to hear.
He whimpered a, “Fuuuuck” down your spine, “Such a dirty little virgin.” His hips stuttered before he sunk into you with such force your legs gave out. Your body came down flush onto the bed. Angel was pressed into you, chest against your back as his breathing calmed. You could feel his heart through your ribs, his chest fluff silky on your skin. Your body was warm, his hot cum filling you.
Small, lazy kisses on your back, then up your neck, he leaned to kiss your cheek. He slid out of you delicately, but you didn’t move.  His weight left the bed, then returned as a warm, wet cloth wiped you clean. After a couple of minutes of gentle cleaning, you felt the throw blanket cover your back. Angel plopped down on his back beside you, pulling the blanket over his legs and unlocking his phone, “Wanna see this fuckin’ hilarious video of my boss runnin’ into a glass wall?”
You chuckled, “More than anything.” He side eyed you, “Well, not anything.”
“Right answer, toots,”  One of his hands came down and settled on your hair, he leaned in to your head and as you watched Valentino collide head first into a wall, he said softly, “Let me know if you need anything. I got a bitchin’ tub in there.”
You hummed, reaching a shakey hand up and pressing ‘replay’ on his phone. Angel’s laughter echoed off the walls, and you decided you had no plans on leaving bed anytime soon.
༻Masterlist༺
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heartysworld · 6 months ago
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Riding into love // LN4
Lando Norris x Reader
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W.C.:2k
The one time Lando turned his niece's horse riding lesson into a speed dating event.
MASTERLIST
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It was a bright Saturday morning when Lando Norris found himself in front of his car, waiting for his niece Mila to grab her riding gear. His brother Oliver had entrusted Lando with taking Mila to her horse-riding lessons for the day, and Lando was eager to spend some quality time with his favorite little girl.
“Uncle Lando, I’m ready!” Mila called out as she bounded down the steps, dressed in her attire, her riding helmet clutched under her arm and a huge smile on her face.
“Alright, let’s go, champ,” Lando replied, ruffling her hair. He opened the door to the car, and Mila hopped in, bubbling with excitement.
The drive to the riding stables was filled with Mila’s chatter about her friends, her horse, and everything she loved about riding. Lando listened attentively, enjoying her enthusiasm and making a mental note to remember all the little details she shared.
When they arrived at the stables, Mila quickly spotted her best friend, your younfer sister, Lily. You were busy helping Lily with her helmet when Lando and Mila approached.
“Hi, Lily! Hi, Y/N!” Mila greeted them cheerfully.
“Hey, Mila! Hi, Mr. Norris,” Lily replied politely.
Lando smiled and corrected her, “Please, call me Lando.”
You looked up and offered a friendly smile. “Nice to see you again, Lando. Thanks for bringing Mila today.”
“No problem at all. She’s been telling me all about how much she loves horse riding on our way here.” Lando replied, his eyes briefly meeting yours.
Mila and Lily quickly ran off to get their horses ready, leaving you and Lando standing by the fence. There was a moment of silence before Lando decided to break the ice.
“So, how long have you been coming here with Lily?” Lando asked.
You looked over at him and replied, “A few years now. Lily started when she was six, and she’s been hooked ever since. What about Mila?
“Just over a year. She’s obsessed with it,” Lando said, chuckling. “She even told me she wants to be a professional rider one day.”
You laughed. “Sounds like Lily. It’s great to see them so passionate about something, though.”
Lando nodded in agreement, watching as Mila and Lily mounted their horses. “Yeah, it is. It’s nice to see them happy.”
A comfortable silence settled between them as they watched the girls begin their lesson. You caught Lando glancing at you occasionally, admiring your smile and the way you interacted with Lily and the other kids. There was something about you that he found incredibly attractive.
After a while, you turned to him. “So, Lando, do you ride?”
“Me? Not really. I mean, I’ve tried it a couple of times, but I’m more comfortable with four wheels under me,” Lando joked.
You laughed. “I figured as much. It’s a different kind of thrill, that’s for sure.”
Lando smiled, feeling a bit more confident. “Maybe you could give me some tips sometime. You know, if you’re free.”
You raised an eyebrow, a playful smile on her lips. “Are you asking me out, Lando Norris?”
Lando chuckled, a slight blush creeping up his neck. “Maybe I am. Would you say yes if I did?”
“Depends on where you’re planning to take me.” You teased.
“How about dinner? Somewhere nice, where we can talk without the sound of engines or horse hooves,” Lando suggested.
You considered for a moment, then nodded. “Alright, dinner sounds good.”
Lando grinned. “Great. How about tomorrow night?”
“Tomorrow works. I’ll give you my number so you can text me the details,” You said, pulling out your phone.
The two of you exchanged numbers, and as the lesson ended, Lando couldn’t help but feel a sense of excitement. He hadn’t expected to score a date while taking his niece to her riding lesson, but he wasn’t complaining.
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One date after another, you fount yourself infatuated with Lando and his presence. It was no surprise to you when he asked you to be his girlfriend on the fourth date. Ever since then, he spent every free moment either with you or coming up with arrangements on how to take you with him to as many places as possible.
Several months into your relationship, Lando decided it was time for you to meet his family at one of their family dinners. Your relationship had grown serious, and he wanted you to feel like a part of his life, both on and off the track.
The evening of the gathering, you arrived at Lando’s family home, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness. Lando greeted you with a kiss and led you inside, where his family welcomed you warmly. Oliver and his wife, Savannah, couldn’t help but joke about Lando’s knack for turning a simple outing into a romantic escapade.
“The one time we leave my brother take Mila to a riding lesson and he managesto score a date. How does that happen?” Oliver teased, nudging his brother playfully.
Lando laughed, wrapping an arm around you. “What can I say? I’ve got skills.” He said, before leaving a soft kiss on the side of your head.
Savannah smiled warmly at you. “We’re just glad to see him so happy. He’s been talking about you non-stop for the past couple of months.”
You blushed, feeling the warmth of their acceptance. The evening was filled with laughter, stories, and delicious food. You felt at ease with Lando’s family, and it was clear how much they cared for him.
As the night drew to a close, you and Lando found a quiet moment together on the porch. The stars were twinkling above, and the soft hum of conversation filled the air from inside the house.
“Thank you for bringing me here,” you said, resting your head on Lando’s shoulder. “Your family is wonderful.”
Lando pressed a kiss to your temple. “I’m glad you liked them. They already adore you.”
You smiled, feeling a sense of belonging. “I adore them too.”
Lando looked at you, his eyes filled with love. “You’ve made my life so much better, baby. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
You leaned in and kissed him, your heart swelling with affection. “I couldn't have said it better, Lan.”
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As the months went by, you and Lando started making mkre and more appearances at the paddock as a couple. The media and fans quickly noticed how much more laid-back and happy Lando seemed, both on and off the track. It didn’t take long for everyone to connect his newfound ease to your presence in his life.
“Looks like someone’s in love,” one of the reporters teased during an interview.
Lando just smiled, glancing over at you as you stood a few feet away from him. “I guess you could say that.
The journey from a horse-riding lesson to a loving relationship had been unexpected but beautiful. You had found each other in the most unlikely of places, and now, you were each other’s biggest supporters, you couldn't ask for a better unexpected match.
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MASTERLIST
Feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated!
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artdcnaldson · 5 months ago
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I. AM. IN. LOVE. WITH. YOU. CAT.
I desperately need, very VERY recently divorced!Art seeing college student!reader in a bar and hooking up, but the next day Art goes out to the store or something, (i.e McDonalds w Lily) and seeing you behind the counter. He asks you when your shift is over so he can pick you up and fuck you in the back of his jeep saying that he’ll sugar daddy you, and that you won’t ever have to work a shitty minimum wage job again, and that he can’t help wanting to help you because you’re so young and naive and pathetic. DROOLING!
Also can I be anon: 🐙
GOD !!!!! And yes ��� anon welcome!!!! I misread this ask and wrote something so off base so I had to start over!! Sorry for the delay!!
He never goes to the bar anymore, but he doesn’t have Lily for the night since she’s at a sleepover, and he hates being in the empty house, so he goes out. He doesn’t expect any attention at all— he’s barely even gotten laid since before the divorce— but there you are. Young, hot, doting, desperate for male attention.
You don’t know who he is, which is fine. He relishes in the anonymity. It’s sweet, how bad you want to fuck him just because he’s hot and nice and bought you a drink. Not because you want his money, or a brush with fame and influence.
He fucks you in the bathroom, with his fingers pushed between your lips to stifle your constant stream of whiny moans. God, you’re loud. You gasp and moan like you’ve never been fucked before. Or, at least, like you’ve never been fucked well. You drench his cock in arousal, leave a sticky ring of creamy release at his base that you clean off with your tongue as he comes down your throat.
He’ll never see you again. That’s fine. He’s divorced at 32, he’s young, he’s attractive, he’s rich— he needs to learn to have casual hookups.
But then you’re at the mall while he takes Lily out to buy a new Lego set (a reward for good grades). You’re behind a counter in a citrus colored apron blending smoothies. Lily wants pineapple mango. He orders strawberry banana. You write your number and a heart on his cup. He slides a fifty dollar bill across the counter as a tip and asks what time your shift ends.
He hires a sitter.
When he picks you up from the mall, you smell like fruit and faintly like the pretzel stand nearby. You’re mortified that the hot guy from the bar found you at your shitty minimum wage job.
“Art,” he corrects. Introduces. “And I’m glad I found you.”
You don’t even know who he is, still, even now. You’re bouncing on his cock in the backseat of his jeep, with sponsorship contracts crumpled on the floor, and magazine ad proofs with his face plastered across them on the floor, and you don’t even notice.
He could make all of your worries disappear. As easy as he makes you come around him, as easy as it is to make your eyes roll back and your jaw slacken. And it’s easy. You’re easy. He could make it so you never have to work again, as long as he wants you. Pay your tuition, pay your rent, pay whatever you want, to keep your sweet pussy in his life.
He might just offer it.
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guess-my-next-obsession · 2 years ago
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25 w joel!!
The Third Date
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pairing: pre-outbreak!joel miller x f!reader
rating: E (18+ ONLY, minimal plot, cunnilingus bc obviously, unprotected piv, joel talks you through it, rough-ish sex, creamp!e, soft fluffy joel bc daddy, i love him)
wc: 2.6k
prompt: 25. “Does that feel good?”
joel masterlist
The summer breeze offered just a bit of respite from the Texas heat, even though the sun had long gone down. You had a stuffed animal tucked under your arm, something bright pink and unicorn-adjacent, though you couldn’t be sure. He won it for you at the county fair, the location of your third date that somehow managed to top the first two. You had no intention of keeping it for yourself, it was much too big and ostentatious for your taste, but you thought it would make a nice gift for Joel’s six-year old daughter.
Walking up the pathway to your apartment, Joel’s hand clasped with yours, you began to feel a thrilling rustle of excitement and anticipation in your stomach. He’d been a gentleman so far, keeping his kisses tame and not letting his hands wander too far, but this was the third date, after all. You couldn’t help but pray he’d finally accept your invitation to come inside your place tonight.
“So,” he started, a shy smile on his face as you faced each other in front of your door. “I had a really good time tonight.”
“Me too.” You smiled back just as smitten. “I know you mentioned wanting to wait, but…if you wanted, you could come inside.”
Joel seemed to study you for a moment, his smile growing wider as he admired the sparkle in your eye. He’d been wanting to follow you inside since your first date, but given that he wanted something serious to come from this, he figured the smartest thing to do would be to wait for the right moment. And right now seemed as right as ever, though he did feel a little embarrassed to only make it three dates before giving in to his need for you.
“I’d love to,” he replied, reaching to cup your jaw. You closed your eyes as he leaned in to press his lips against yours, soft and sweet, just like all the other times, but soon it grew hungrier. He moaned against your lips as your fingers curled over the leather of his belt, tugging him closer. “Maybe we should take this inside, darlin’.”
“Yeah,” you panted, nodding as you scrambled through your bag to find your keys. Unlocking your door and stepping inside, Joel plucked the stuffed animal from underneath your arm and set it down on the carpet before quickly finding your hips and walking you backwards into your living room. “Wait—“ you giggled as you fell back against the plush cushions. “Shut and lock the door.”
“Oh, right,” he chuckled and blushed at his eagerness, the front door still wide open. He walked over to it and shut it, locking the doorknob and closing the deadbolt for extra measure. When he turned back to you, he was still flushed. “Got ahead of myself there.”
“That’s okay,” you assured in a purr, curling your finger at him to beckon him close again. “I like it when you get ahead of yourself.”
“Oh yeah?” he grinned and strutted towards you until he was leaning over the couch, his lips ghosting over yours. “You look so goddamn beautiful sittin’ here, you know that?”
“Why don’t you show me just how beautiful you think I am…with these?” You laced your fingers with his and and squeezed.
“Do I have permission to use more than just my hands?” he purred as he pulled you up onto your feet, his hands leaving yours so that he could hold the small of your back while yours rested on his chest.
“Depends, I think I need a sample first,” you purred back with a smirk. Tipping your head towards the hallway, you whispered, “Bedroom’s that way.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Joel never let go of you as he walked you backwards down the hall, his lips slowly and carefully working yours until you were sure if you tried to speak, the only thing that would come out was a string of incoherent squeaks.
“This one?” Joel asked as you arrived at your closed bathroom door, and you were forced to test your theory.
“No,” you managed, pointing behind him at the other closed door. “That—it’s that one.”
“You nervous?” he asked, his face shifting from one of amusement to concern. You quickly shook your head and reached your hand to his face.
“No,” you found your vocal footing. “Well, I mean as nervous as anyone would be before they took a beautiful man like you to bed.” Joel blushed. “You just…make me dizzy, that’s all.”
“I make you dizzy?” he asked as though it was an unheard of thought. “Baby—“ He grabbed your hand and lowered it to his thumping heart. “You’re making me dizzy.”
“Joel,” you exhaled. “Open the door.”
Joel nodded, a look of stunned reverence on his face as he scrambled to reach behind him for the doorknob, fumbling with it until it turned and opened the door. You stumbled inside, your hands gripping onto his shirt while his lifted the skirt of your dress, your teeth clashing as he kissed you breathless, neither of you caring about how sloppy it was.
“Take your clothes off,” you ordered as you lifted your dress over your head. Joel was quick to obey your command, tugging his t-shirt over his head before peeling his jeans off. You crawled onto your bed and sat on your knees in the middle of it, a smile on your face as he took you in. Joel ticked his jaw and chuckled as he crawled onto the mattress to join you, his warm palms resting on your waist as he guided you back against the pillows.
“You’re fuckin’—“ He shook his head as he hovered above you, his eyes taking over your entire form. “Breathtakin’, baby.”
“You’re not too bad yourself,” you grinned.
“Oh, yeah right. You’re just sayin’ that.”
“No—“ You reached for his hand, lowering it until his fingertips rested on your clothed mound, allowing him to feel your dampness. “That’s what you do to me.”
“Fuck,” he exhaled and leaned down to kiss you again, deep and slow and hungry. “I’m gonna make you feel so good, baby.”
You didn’t doubt his promise, the look in his eyes alone lighting you up in ways every other lover never seemed to master.
His lips traveled down the slopes and curves of your body, stopping at the cups of your bra to knead your breasts in his hands. His fingers slipped the straps down your shoulders before he reached beneath you to undo the clasp, the lace slowly unveiling your pert nipples to him for the first time. He sucked in sharply and looked up at you as though he was seeing god.
“Perfect.”
Your back arched as he swirled his tongue around the sensitive bud before sucking it into his mouth, his hand snaking down your belly and back to the damp spot on your lacy panties.
“God,” you moaned, your eyes screwing shut as he rubbed perfectly pressured circles against your clit, the lace adding a beautiful bit of friction that had you keening for more.
“Does that feel good?” he rasped as he kissed his way to your other breast. You nodded quickly and lowered your eyes to meet his, your breath hitching at the look of lust blowing out his already dark eyes. “Good. I’m just gettin’ started with you.”
“Fuck,” you whined, already nearly fucked-out and he’d hardly even touched you.
Joel’s lips moved lower, pressing sloppy, open mouthed kisses to your stomach and over your navel until he was kissing the waistband of your panties. Moving lower, he ran his nose up and down your clothes slit, an animalistic groan vibrating against your core.
“Smells so sweet, baby,” he praised in a rasp. “Can I taste you?”
“Please,” you urged, combing his dark hair back as he hooked his fingers in the waistband of your panties and tugged them off you. When he returned to his spot between your legs, he pressed kisses onto the sensitive skin of your thighs, urging them to fall open for him. When you finally worked up the courage to spread yourself wide for him, Joel took a look at your soaked pussy and nearly drooled, his eyes wild as they lifted from your heat to your eyes.
“I’m gonna stay down here forever, baby, so damn pretty.” You were about to respond to his praise but he cut you off with a broad lick from your dripping entrance up to your clit, punctuating it with a swirl of his tongue. Your back arched off the bed and your hands found the headboard, pressing on them to find purchase so you didn’t float off into heaven. “Tastes so fuckin’ good, too, baby. You’re just a fuckin’ dream, ain’t ya?”
“Joel,” you nearly cried, so consumed by him and the filth leaving his tongue that you didn’t even care how desperate you sounded. Joel didn’t seem to mind, either, his tongue returning to your folds to pull more pretty sounds from you. “You feel—fuck—you feel so good.”
He hummed against you and you could feel his smile as he lapped at you. You didn’t dare look down at him, knowing that if you did, you’d never be able to look at anything else ever again. The man between your legs was quickly earning his spot as your idol, beating out any god that would dare smite you for it.
“So fuckin’—“ he mumbled into your pussy, the last few words turning into nothing but hums against your clit as he sucked it into his mouth. You were already there, free-falling over the cliffs of bliss, but when he pressed two fingers deep into your cunt and curled up, you swore you died and went to heaven, but that couldn’t be—not for someone so gladly taking part in sin like this. “There you go,” he praised, pulling back enough to watch you writhe, your cunt pulsing around his fingers. “So good for me, baby.”
“Joel, please,” you mewled, grabbing at him to pull him back to you. You needed to ground yourself under the weight of his body, to feel his warmth and remember that you were here, and so was he. Joel obliged, climbing back up your body until he was resting on top of you, hugging you close. “Let me taste you.”
“Not tonight, baby,” he whispered in your ear. “Just wanna make you feel good.”
“You’re…perfect,” you sighed and he chuckled, pulling one out of you in turn. He propped himself up on his elbows and stroked your hair back, grinning down at you.
“I like you a lot,” he confessed, his eyes as tender as his voice.
“I like you a lot, too,” you smiled back. “But right now, I want you fuck me like you can’t stand me.”
“Oh yeah?” he chuckled before leaning in to kiss your pulse. “You want it rough, baby?”
“Mmhm,” you hummed in response and nodded.
“Turn over for me,” he ordered. “All fours.”
You wasted no time in obeying, your body scrambling into your knees as soon as he lifted himself off you. Pressing your face and chest down, you arched your ass up as high as you could, turning your head so that you could catch a glimpse of him from over your shoulder as he lined himself up behind you.
“I don’t have a condom,” he warned. “But I got tested a few weeks back and I’m clean.”
“Me too, and I’m on birth control.” He nodded and leaned down to press a kiss to the globe of your ass. Shaking it for him, he cooed in delight at the sight. “Hurry up back there, I’m getting needy.”
“Yes, ma’am.” You could hear the grin on his face. “I like it when you boss me around.”
“Good, so do I.” You chuckled for a moment, but were cut off by the blunt head of his cock pressing into your entrance, sliding all the way in in one quick thrust. You gasped and gripped the pillows beneath you as he kept himself buried completely in your heat for a moment, his own breath ragged as he waited for you to acclimate to his girth. “So fucking big, Joel.”
“Baby, I ain’t gonna last long,” he warned, wrecked and trembling already. “Rub that pretty clit for me while I fuck you, can you do that?”
Nodding your head, you reached beneath you to start rubbing circles against your swollen and sensitive bud while he withdrew his cock all the way before shoving back in, the head of hit prodding against your g-spot.
“Fuck, baby,” you moaned, eyes squeezing shut as he set a brutal pace, his cock pistoning in and out of you just like you asked for. You knew you were going to be sore in the morning but none of that mattered now, not with the searing hot pleasure of ecstasy building again. When his hand came cracking down upon your ass, you gasped, but any worry you may have caused Joel was quickly dispelled by the twitching of your walls around him.
“You like that, don’t ya?” he teased in a purr, bringing his hand down to spank the other cheek, your pussy pulsing for him again. “God,” he choked on the word. “Such a dirty fuckin’ girl for me, ain’t ya?”
“Yes!” you cried, your fingers now working your clit fast, your toes curling as your orgasm threatened to wreck you for good. “Joel, I’m—“
“Go on, baby,” he urged. “Soak my cock.”
You fell flat onto the bed as your orgasm hit, but Joel followed you, his brutal thrusts never ceasing as you came for him with a cry of his name so loud you were concerned the neighbors would call the police.
“Fuck!” he moaned loud enough for them to hear, too. “I’m gonna cum, baby. Where do you want me?”
“My pussy,” you managed, still reeling from your high. “Cum inside my pussy.”
“Jesus,” Joel groaned, feral like a wild animal and pressed deep inside you, so deep that you could feel him in your stomach as his cock swelled and twitched with his release. His chest heaved against your back as he laid over your limp form, pressing kisses to your shoulders. “Fuck.”
“Talk about a good third date,” you sighed, content and sated. Joel laughed and nodded as he rested his head against your shoulder, carefully and slowly pulling out of you with a hiss before rolling over onto his back.
“I probably should’ve asked earlier, but…can I stay the night with you?” he asked, drawing hearts on the heated skin of your back. You turned your head to the other side to face him and grinned.
“What about Sarah?”
“She’s at my mom’s,” he assured.
“In that case, yes. I would love it if you stayed the night.” He grinned and beckoned you into his side and you nestled in there, resting your head on his chest and taking your turn drawing your name on his skin. “Besides, that gives me the chance to finally suck your dick like I’ve been dreaming about.”
“God, baby,” he groaned and rolled you onto your back, resting himself between your thighs as he pecked every inch of your face. “How am I gonna ever leave this bed?”
3K notes · View notes
websterss · 1 year ago
Text
RIGHT ON TIME — AZRIEL
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SUMMARY: You held out hope for him, for Eris to show up even after he had shattered your heart. You held out hope...that he wouldn't leave you hanging in the center of the ballroom on your birthday of all days.
WARNING(S): angst and fluff
WORD COUNT: 4,464
PAIRING: Azriel x fem!Reader
A/N: I hope you enjoy it! Let me know what you guys think! Feedback is always welcomed!
MASTERLIST
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You were supposed to feel happy. You were supposed to feel happy, and he was supposed to have swept you off your feet tonight. Tonight - you just wanted tonight to feel magical and allow you to feel as great as you appeared before your friends and guests. It was your birthday after all.
Yet he didn't show and you were left to your vices. To fend for yourself in the middle of the ballroom. You swallowed down the knot forming in your throat harshly. Your eyes bounce off of each of your friends and family's faces. Rhysand had called for the first dance of the night. While he had offered his hand to you before you planted yourself dead center of the room, you had denied him, telling him you wanted to wait. Wait for him to arrive and extend his hand out for you to take, to waltz you into the first dance of the night, but that had been seven minutes ago, and Eris was nowhere to be seen. Your confidence was slowly withering away as your guests began to whisper amongst themselves, no doubt in pity for the high lord's sister whom no one wanted to offer up their hand.
There were no takers. No one with the courage to sweep Rhysand's little sister across the floor.
Let me be your first dance. Rhysand's voice echoes in your head. Your breath slightly hitches.
You could see the pity in everyone's eyes. Watching the sad little princess alone. You could hear their whispers and the hushed murmurs, and you hated it. You hated every single bit of it. It's your birthday, a special day, your special day - yet, he couldn't care enough to appear. You hated it. 
No. You swivel in place, the skirt of your gown swishly in your twirl. Am I that intimidating that no one will waltz with me? You echo back to Rhysand.
It is not you sis. You huff as you look at the males in attendance, you even meet eyes with some beautiful females in the crowd, but still, no takers. You thought you were doing great at staying composed, but were soon left stunned at Rhysand's next words. 
He won't come inside, Y/n.
What?
Azriel and Nesta are trying to convince him to enter, but he refuses. Refuses to ruin your special day. I'm sorry.
They had tried to get him in here, and he couldn't be convinced. He didn't want to ruin your night but that's exactly what was happening. He was ruining your special night. You didn't think it could be ruined but you hated this; you hated everyone's pity and their whispers. You would have waited forever if he just came inside, took you by the hand, and danced with you.
Your hands were sweating now. You blink back tears threatening to spill and ruin hours worth of Mor's and Nesta's work. Your fleeting eyes barely catch Nesta and Azriel coming back into the party. Azriel leaned over to whisper into Rhysand's ear. Rhysand's eyes immediately turn to yours with a sorrowful gaze. You could feel your heart tethering on the last stitch holding it together. If Eris ending two years' worth of your relationship wasn't enough, then his promise to be present for your first dance of the night and refusal to go through with it is the tipping point. You take deep inhales in hopes that it will help you compose yourself, you hardly catch Rhysand pushing through your walls again.
Allow me to be your first waltz. I promise I'm much more practiced than anybody in this court, plus I won't step on your toes like I'm sure some will. His attempt to make this situation light was nice, but it did nothing except make you anxious and feel naked. The pressure of everyone's eyes on you was finally getting to you.
It was all too much. Everything was too much and too quiet - the quartet waiting on Rhysand's cue to begin playing the minute you began swaying. Eris was supposed to be here, he had shown but couldn't even make it past the entrance. You could feel yourself begin to hyperventilate.
You had to find some way to gain courage. You swallowed hard against your bitter pain, and you held up your right hand, just begging for someone to take it.
Desperate measures called for desperate attempts. You couldn't care how bizarre the picture looked. You, holding your hand out when it should have been the other way around. You didn't care much for who took it, just so long as it was taken. You held your head high and chin up, mustering the best smile you could, and swiftly turned your hand outward towards your guests. Motioning to a few males, even a few females, who blushed against your offer, but no one would take your hand, not one. You could feel the sting pierce your chest as they all took hesitant steps back. Perhaps it was the pressure of being in the spotlight, yes - that was all it was, you entertained the thought.
Allow me to be your first waltz. Rhysand attempted again.
You had gone to deny Rhsyand on his offer once more but stilled when you turned around and were met with an extended hand.
See, a taker, at last. You spoke to Rhysand. However, your heart stopped as a familiar scarred hand came into your sight.
It took you only a fraction of a second to realize who the hand that finally answered your beckon belonged to. That hand, those fingers, the blue siphon, the scars you knew so well. You looked up to your mystery taker, shocked, surprised, stunned - speechless.
Azriel.
The relief crashed down over you, washing away all the resentment that had built up over those past few minutes of waiting for Eris. Never again, you promised yourself. Never again would you wait on someone who couldn't show their face and broke their word.
Azriel watched as the corner up your lips curled upwards, into a sweet broken smile he adored so much. He couldn't fight off his own as you trailed your eyes up the entirety of his black sleeve up to his eyes. It wasn't often you got to see him in formal attire. His dress shirt was unbuttoned from the first two, allowing peaks of his tattoos. Your eyes gleamed with unshed tears. You placed your hand in his and allowed him to lead you.
He didn't waste any time; he took your hand in his and quickly grabbed your waist, positioning both himself and yourself in a proper V pattern of an experienced dancer. Then he began to move, gracefully as though the two of you were flying around the ballroom. You both moved swiftly across the floor. Your friends and guests step further back to give you and the shadow singer more room. The females were enthralled by the swish and twirls of your skirts. The males teething with jealous remorse for not taking your hand. You had been twirling and spinning for two whole minutes before Rhysand snapped out of it and cued in the quartet.
The music was soothing yet uplifting. The violinist played to the feel-good of your movements rather than a particular song, watching and playing as your bodies glided. You were lost in the dance, the music only amplifying the soar of your heart, your soul entranced with the melody and his hazel eyes. You knew no one else but him. Everyone else was just a spectator. Everyone else was just background noise. It was just you and him, dancing gracefully around in a perfect circle. The hand resting on your hip felt secure and warm, the same hand that gave you all the safety and comfort you needed, the hand that offered itself to you to take. Azriel had made the ballroom floor your own little world.
You felt as though time had suddenly slowed. You could see everyone around staring, gawking, snarling in envy. He smiled, and you smiled, and those tears that had threatened to escape finally began to fall. You had felt a tug in your chest as he lifted you into the air and set you back down. It felt almost like - a snap.
The breath you exhaled after being spun and suspended in air - was shaky with the release of the tension between your bodies. Your arms wrapped around his neck as he brought you down to your feet again all the while your eyes were filled with the salty streams of joy that fell down your cheeks. It had been the bond. You shakingly brought your hands up to cup his cheeks. You breathed out a laugh, the corners of your eyes crinkling showcasing your joy, and disbelief.
Everyone around you blinded to what was going on between the two of you. Just you, and him, and the warmth of his hands as he led you into the final sway of your first dance of the night. As though he could sense the joy radiating off you, he brought your arm up and spun you around, letting you twirl out back into the center of the room where you started. Your chest rose and fell as you steadied yourself. You turned in place, your smile brightening as you followed Azriel's lead into a deep bow. Then stood to your full length.
It was just you and him.
You didn't notice that the music had died down until the room erupted into a series of claps and whistles. You placed a hand on your chest startled, but laughed out in surprise.
"My beautiful sister, everyone." He tipped his glass to you. You dipped your chin in acknowledgment. "You may take to the floor as you please now!" You had turned to look back at Azriel only to find him gone. You had twisted in place in the hope of catching sight of him, but to your luck, he was nowhere to be found. You had thanked guests who had come up to you, wished you the happiest of birthdays, and apologized for letting you stand alone for so long. You didn't care for the last part as you smiled and excused yourself from their greetings. You pushed past bodies, dodging, and moving smoothly past any and everyone in haste. You had to find him. You had practically run out of the room into the darkened halls. The pathways were illuminated by the moon, casting in through the opened arches. You sighed as you found yourself alone once more.
"Looking for someone?"
You froze, frozen in place by the sound of his voice. Your heart halted, only to beat a few seconds later with the anticipation of him. Your hands clasped together tightly. You let out a slow inhale before exhaling and turning around to face him. "Only you..." You muttered softly. You were afraid you were about to cry just at the sight of him - a tear slowly trickled down your cheek as you looked up to his face. "Just you..." Azriel was here, just as you had hoped. The moonlight bathed him in an otherworldly glow. He stood before you in the dim light, his siphons glinting against the white walls.
Your eyes locked on his, your pupils narrowing and the corners of your mouth twitching into a small smile. As your gaze traveled across his body. All this time, you were here, before me. You thought.
"Do you want to know a secret?" His question snaps you out of your thoughts. "I am more than certain that I missed a step." He gave a playful grimace. You had stopped, then tipped your head back in a laugh.
"You, on the other hand, are a marvelous dancer," Azriel said softly as he closed the distance between you. "You're beautiful when you dance." He took one of your hands into his own, and gently raised it to his lips, placing kisses on your knuckles.
"Only when I dance?" You teased. A playful glint in your eyes not getting past him.
"Beautiful every second." He confessed softly.
"What about every hour or minute, am I not beautiful then too?" Your light bubbles gave you away. Azriel couldn't fight off the smirk and roll of his eyes. You bit your lip playfully as you rolled your eyes back at him. "I'll agree. I am a marvelous dancer. My mother did see to it before she passed..." You paused, and then a devilish smile crossed your visage. "Am I beautiful while I eat?" You challenged. You tried hard to keep hold of your amusement.
"Every second." He repeated stubbornly. "Every minute, and every hour." Azriel took your other hand into his and lifted both of them to his lips this time. He slowly lowered your hands back down. "You are just as beautiful when you cry…" He sighed as he brushed them along your cheeks. "I believe no one else can bring out this beauty in you. You simply shine all on your own." He wiped another tear that fell down your cheek.
"But am I beautiful while I eat?" You didn't let up the teasing, even if your heart soared at his confession.
He smirked. "Yes, you are just as beautiful when you scarf down a piece of baked goods." He paused briefly as he tilted his head to the side. His fingers brushed against your cheek softly. "And in every moment, you are even more so," He said softly. Your breath hitched as you felt love and reassurance flow down to your end of the bond.
"It is you who I feel." You bubbled out a laugh, though your eyes continued to glisten with new unshed tears. "It's been you all along. I can't believe it. I thought it'd be Eris but it was you. It all makes sense, why I've always felt safe in your presence, why I've never shied from your proximity. It snapped for me Azriel...as we danced." Tears now spilled down your cheeks again. Azriel tried his best to wipe them away. You brought your hands up to wrap around his wrist as he held your face gently. "H-Has it snapped for you as well?" Your voice wavered with hope. Curiosity.
"It has..." Azriel stiffened but held a cool stature. He wasn't sure if he was caressing your cheeks to reassure you or to help himself keep calm.
"When?" You asked in need of knowing. When? He closed his eyes in dread. When? Of course, you would ask.
"It's uh - It's been two years Y/n." He slowly lowers his hands from your face.
"Two years, but that's how long Eris and I-" Azriel cut you off short.
"Do not even attempt to finish that sentence." He groaned softly. A deep, regretful sigh rumbled out of him. "Yes Y/n, it has been two years since it's snapped for me…" Tears fell onto both of your cheeks at that revelation. He looked away. "I have no explanation to offer you," He confessed. "I should have said something then, but I couldn't, not when you looked at him like he made up the stars in your night sky. I regret not telling you because I couldn't save you the heartache tonight. Seeing you stand there waiting, watching no one take your hand, it killed me. Gods, I nearly killed Eris myself when he showed up at the doors. He had made it this far, all he had to do was walk through the cauldron door! I wanted to punch him, Y/n. Punch him for all the hurt he caused you. I'm no different than him though. I could've saved you the pain too, but I was scared and I was stupid."
There was a long breath of silence between you as you tried to process his words, your lips pressed tightly together, your eyes widening the realization.
"Two years…" You mouthed, your throat feeling dry. You tried to swallow down the lump forming; it wouldn't budge. Your breathing was shallow and quickened as you blinked back tears.
"I know I'm nothing like Eris but-" Azriel began.
"Do not finish that sentence" Your brows furrowed together. "You are so much more than Eris."
"I am?" You couldn't fight it anymore, not at the mention of the other male with whom you have suffered greatly. Now, you were able to feel the fear reverberating through the bond that held Azriel back this entire time from telling you how he felt. That he was your mate. You had been so focused on your feelings towards Eris, that Azriel was willing to keep the bond hidden to not jeopardize your very own bond with the redhead. You finally realized that he was more than you could comprehend, and not only that - he was someone who put his heart at bay for the sake of your happiness.
"You are!" You exclaimed, reaching up to cup his face. Your lips quivered at the thought that he let you be happy with someone else for so long because he didn't want to mess things up. He didn't want to hurt you. "Cauldron, you are so much more. You are everything. Mother two years…you kept it a secret for two years." You caressed the spilled tears on his face away.
"You were happy…I couldn't take that from you." He pressed his head against yours. "It tore at me," Azriel gasped. His head inclined and eyes closed just the slightest bit as you touched him. "You were happy." His breath hitched as he exhaled. "I thought that if he was who you wanted, then so be it, that he could give you everything and more than I ever could. But the second I saw how he hurt you, how you were so miserable when he left you on the steps crying, how you still waited on him even after all he'd done- my heart broke for you. I hate that I let you suffer like that. I hate that you were so hurt you didn't let Rhysand dance with you, but then you took my hand and I thought I was seeing stars. Gods I was so scared when I took those first steps with you. I thought I was gonna faint, but I finally had you in my arms, and then you smiled at me and I was a done male. I was a done male who finally felt worthy enough of you because I got you to swing that gorgeous smile at me, and I've wanted nothing more than to be the center of your happiness."
"Two years Azriel!" You exclaimed. You pressed your palms against your head to help you calm down. Your heart was pounding against your chest.
"I know, I know!" He groaned, knowing he fucked up. "Don't I know it?"
"You made me wait two years." Your words came out in bits and pieces as your heart skipped several beats. The breath of silence between you felt like an eternity. You squeezed tight against his hands. Your gaze remained fixed on his eyes.
"Yeah well, I suffered for two years…" Azriel knew it wasn't fair to say, you had no clue.
"Because you didn't say anything!"
"It would've hurt you, knowing!" His voice rose. You turn your head, biting back a sob. "I was terrified of causing you pain! I didn't want to lose you by bringing up the bond in front of you and Eris. I didn't want to be a burden to you, be another heavy weight on your shoulders, a male making your happy relationship complicated." Azriel's fingers tightened around your hands as he took a deep breath. "Do you really think I could have told you back then? What if you didn't feel the same way? I couldn't go through that, I couldn't take the chance of you not wanting me. You rejecting the bond. It would have shattered me, Y/n. You don't know how often I sat in my room, thinking to myself, 'Cauldron, I need to grow a backbone. I need to just confess everything to her and get it over with.' But I never could. My chest felt locked every time I saw you laugh at something he said, to watch you kiss him. My throat would close at the thought of telling you how much I loved you."
"Loved?" Panic began to rise within your chest. That was past tense.
Azriel's lips began to tremble as his breath slowed itself. He was frozen in place by the utterance of the wrong tense of the word. His jaw locked and his eyes narrowed as his brows raised a fraction of an inch. You were the love of his life, and he had made you think he loved you, as in no more, instead of love you. You took a step back, fear overcoming all the anger and frustration that had just seconds ago taken over your body through the bond.
Azriel quickly corrected his wording. "Love. I meant to say, love." He rushed out with his words because he saw the color drain from your face. The look of sheer panic over your features made Azriel's heart falter. He had to reassure you immediately. "I love you. Present tense." He pressed his head against yours. You felt his relief echo through the bond. He didn't want you to think he'd fallen out of love with you, or that this was all an old love that had withered down into what it once was. No, that was not the case. The bond with you ran deeper than he could have imagined. This was his first time experiencing something so deep, something so intense, something so all-consuming.
"Mother I love you with my entirety." His thumb brushed along the vein of your wrist, his thumbprint resting softly against your pulse as he held you in place. "I've loved you even before the bond snapped for me." His voice was soft. His eyes still tearing up as he reached up to hold your face. "I never knew how much I could love someone until I met you. My best friend, the love of my life, my mate."
His gentle touch left goosebumps along the surface of your skin. Azriel's eyes remained locked on yours even as the tears trickled past his eyelashes. He wanted you to see how much he meant those words even though he had trouble finding them. You were it for him. You had been from the moment he'd first met you in Windhaven. He'd been blind to it then, his love for you, never truly knowing of its intensity, but now? Now he couldn't fathom how he ever denied his feelings towards you.
"My mate. My sweet beautiful mate." You breathed out a laugh. Azriel's chest rumbled with joy. Feeling your joy and love reside in him. "I know it wasn't fair to you to see me be with another. I'm sorry if I caused you any pain in my relationship with Eris. If I'd known, I would have put an end to it. You deserve the world Azriel. I'll spend my whole life giving it to you. You are enough, and you are everything, my love."
Azriel was speechless, the words spilling from your lips were beautiful. He loved your willingness to give it all to him, but he also loved the thought that you saw and considered him worthwhile enough to give him the world. His eyes widened as he took a deep breath, smiling at you as your words washed over him like honey. He took a slow inhale, taking in the smell of you—the faint scent of jasmine and flowers. Home.
You felt every bone in Azriel's body relax and exhale softly at such sweet, gentle, and encouraging words. He pulled you tighter against his chest and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. "It's alright, you didn't know. There were so many things you didn't know." He dipped his chin and locked his eyes to yours, letting you know it was all okay. He wanted you to believe him, truly believe that you hadn't purposely hurt him when he saw you with another other male, you were just…innocent. Oblivious to the existing bond.
His thumb brushed against your bottom lip as his voice trembled. "Can I confess something else to you?" Azriel asked softly, hoping you could handle another revelation within these passing minutes.
"One more can't hurt." You beamed up at him.
Azriel laughed at your reply and squeezed you tight. He needed to hold onto you right at this moment or else the fear of you letting him go would overwhelm him. Azriel's eyes dropped to the side for a brief moment as he gathered enough courage to say what he needed to say. Then his hazel eyes met yours, and you were done for. "I'm gonna love you for the rest of my life."
"I'm okay with that…" You muttered softly, shrugging like it wasn't a big deal. The slight smirk appearing on your lips wasn't lost on him.
Azriel let out a laugh and smiled again. He didn't know how to describe the euphoria running through him just hearing those words come out of your mouth. He rushed forward, lifting you off the ground as he leaned down to plant a gentle kiss on your lips and pulled back, his breathing shaking with anticipation. It didn't take long for you to bring yours down on his, longer this time. You felt a laugh bubble out of you as he spun you both in place. You raked your hands through his locks before you finally settled them on his neck.
Azriel's mind clouded immediately at the memory of you standing in the middle of the ballroom alone. He was so consumed with his turmoil of trying to convince Eris to come inside…that he should've been there sooner. He let out a sigh as his head shook from side to side.
“Thank you, for saving me tonight.”
"There's nothing in this world that I wouldn't do for you." Azriel's eyes softened as he held you in his arms. Your legs hanging above the floor an inch. He didn't let up on his hold, he wasn't letting go, you don't think he ever would after this. Your breathing hitched as he leaned in and pressed a kiss to your lips once more. You sighed in contentment. His touch, his lips, all-consuming and right. "I'm sorry I wasn't there sooner." He apologized.
"It's okay Az. You were right on time..." He spun you both around once more, wanting nothing more than to emit more laughs out of you.
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cielito--lindo · 5 days ago
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why didn't you call
wc: 1.4k
parings: bakugou katsuki x reader, some iida tenya x reader
a/n and warnings: aged!up au, prohero!reader, afab!reader, swearing, angst and a small amount of fluff, maybe eventual smut??
Part One. Part Two. Part Three.
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You had so many thoughts swirling around your head, you didn’t know where to start until you heard Iida clear his throat. 
“Oh my god, Iida” You cringed “I am so so sorry.” You started to apologize, but Iida covered your hands with his, giving you a small smile.
“You don’t have to apologize to me, you didn’t do anything wrong” He reassured you “There was no way you would know he’d be here, you aren’t psychic.” Well, not completely, you muttered internally. “I could ask the staff if they could package our meals to go, if you’d like?” 
You swear you felt your insides melt a little “Tenya, that’s really sweet of you, but I’m okay.” You held up your water glass in front of you “Let’s not let this ruin a perfectly wonderful date.” 
The tips of Iida’s ears began to turn pink and he clinked his glass against yours “To a wonderful first date.” 
The nice thing about your ex crashing your first date is that the worst thing that could happen happened! As much as you enjoyed yourself, you couldn’t help shake the feeling that you were being watched. Once your meals were finished, you had decided to call it a night. Iida rushed over to help you out of your seat and slip on your coat, his hands slightly lingering. “Did you drive?” 
“Oh, I took an uber, actually. I don’t actually own a car.” You admitted, slightly embarrassed.
“Not owning a car in the city is perfectly understandable” He tucked your hand into the crook of his arm. Don’t feel up his bicep, don’t feel up his bicep. “Especially since we are fortunate enough to live in a city with efficient public transportation.” He rattled off statistics regarding public transport in different cities as you walked outside the restaurant. “Oh, I’m rambling, aren’t I?” He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, a faint blush dusting his cheeks.
You grinned at him “Fortunately for you, Iida, I don’t mind rambling.”
His blush grew darker as you both approached the parking lot. “I’d be more than happy to take you home, if you’d like.”
“Ac-”
“You can fuckin’ forget about it, Four Eyes.” 
This is the moment you realized that you were not one of God’s favorites because what the actual fuck. You quickly reared around “Excuse you, this is a two person conversation that you aren’t a part of.”
Bakugou grinned at you, gleaming sharp teeth on display “Oh, I’m making myself apart of it, Space Case. I’m taking you home.” 
You rolled your eyes and turned back to Iida “I appreciate the offer, but I already had a return car ordered.” You squeezed his hand hoping the lie was convincing enough.
Iida lowered his head, leaning in to whisper “Are you sure you’ll be alright? It’s no trouble.” He watched Bakugou out of the corner of his eye.
You smiled and pecked him on the cheek, loving the immediate blush you caused “I’m a big girl, Tenya. I can handle Hot Head over there.” 
“What the fuck did you call me?!” 
Iida gave your hand one last squeeze before leaving. Taking a deep breath, you rolled your shoulders back. “What exactly is your problem, huh?” You strode toward him, pulling him into a discreet alleyway, away from the prying eyes of the public. “Six months no contact and you decided to crash my night?!”
He let out an indignant laugh, leaning against the brickwall as he crossed his arms in front of him. “Yeah, six months no contact and you decided to fuck Lighting McQueen?”
“First of all, we aren’t fucking, this was our first date!” You rolled your eyes “Secondly, you are literally on a date! Right now!” It was Bakugou’s turn to roll his eyes “Pot meet fuckin’ kettle.” It felt like your chest was on fire, a part of you just wanted to absolutely kick his ass. How could he be such a damn hypocrite?? “You moved on, Bakugou!” You all but yelled “It’s my turn now, I get to go out too.”
Bakugou’s taunting smile vanished, his eyes trained on the floor in front of him, “It’s not real.” He muttered so lowly that you couldn’t hear what he said, only noticing his lips moving.
You let out an exasperated grunt and crossed your arms in front of you, god you didn’t have time for this.
He flicked his gaze up to meet yours “It’s not real.” He gritted out “It’s a stupid PR stunt.”
You just wanted to go back home, crawl under the covers, and forget about everything that’s just happene-PAUSE.
“A...what?” So this is what it feels like to have all the wind knocked out of you.
“I'm not fuckin’ repeating myself. My stupid ass manager thought it would be a great idea; get me back into the public eye or whatever. So they hired that bitch model from my folk’s campaign and paraded us around in public.”
You didn’t even notice you had started to pace until you felt Bakugou reach out to stop you. His touch felt like an electric current running through your veins. You had forgotten how big Katsuki was, forgotten how much his touch felt like home. “I don’t want her. I’ve never even liked her.” You could feel his calloused thumb stroking soothing circles on your skin, a habit so ingrained in his mind it came as easily as breathing. 
You could feel yourself leaning into his touch, eyes fluttering closed as you breathed in the citrusy-spicy scent of the cologne you had bought him one year for his birthday. 
NO, NOPE, GOD DAMN IT. Your eyes snapped open and wretched your arm away from the spiky blonde.
He let you go with a frustrated noise “Look, I didn’t mean to crash your..date.” He sneered, the word left a sour taste in his mouth. “The fuckin’ agency made the reservation and I would’ve changed it in a heartbeat, if I knew you were going to be here. Kirishima mentioned something about it, but I just shut him up. He keeps bringing you up a-and...” His voice faltered for a minute. It didn’t help that you were just standing there, staring at him, feeling like the too close walls of the alleyway suffocating you. “And I didn’t want to hear it. It was clear you didn't want anything to do with me, so I gave you what you wanted." Static filled your ears, oh my god, am I going into shock? “Fuck, say something!”
“Y-you never called. Why didn’t you call?” was all you managed to say. You used to have a whole script planned out in your head when you had first left, expecting him to find you with his tail between his legs. But the rehearsed words stayed stuck in your throat, not budging, no matter how badly you wanted to scream it at him.
“Because you’re the one who left me!” Katsuki cried out, his voice worn and tired.
You hadn’t noticed the heavy bags under his eyes or the way his, once perfect posture, suffered. “You were there one day and then gone the next and I-I..” You’ve never heard Katsuki’s voice sound like this before, he sounded so...defeated. “It was like you were never there.” 
Time stood still as your eyes couldn’t separate from each other. 
This was not the Katsuki Bakugou you left all those months before, he was...you opened your mouth to speak, but the harsh ring of his cellphone cut you off.
He answered with a roaring “WHAT?”
“‘Sukiiii! Where are you? The paps won’t take my picture without you!” You heard a cooing voice from the other line. Right. His date. Who wasn’t actually his date. But technically is? 
“Just shut the fuck up-” You could hear him growl into the phone. This wasn’t how you thought you’d ever confront Katsuki, you had a whole elaborate plan. You didn't account for...fuck, whatever this was.
I just want to get out of here. A rush of cold flowed through you as you looked down to see darkness creeping up your arms, your quirk Dark Side often manifested itself during your heightened emotions. You sighed with relief and let your body be consumed by the cold night. 
“No! Baby, wait! Please!”
Red eyes. Scarred skin. Cold. Burnt caramel. Finally, an all consuming quiet. Rest.
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well. i honestly don't know how i felt writing this part. i had to literally act this out alone in my room because i had such a hard time visualizing it. but here we are. if anyone is willing to let me bounce ideas off of them i would greatly appreciate it
🥺👉👈
anyway, if y'all liked it pls let me know and if you didn't...pls don't let me know.
taglist: @kimsrie @onlyisaa
dividers: @saradika
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forest-hashira · 1 month ago
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First Impressions
finished this last night but am finally deciding to post it lol. pls be nice to me + my first fic of the year.
read on ao3 | wc: ~1.3k | cw: gn reader, established/implied stsg, reader is implied to have bipolar disorder & a cursed technique, reader almost gets wrecked, bilingual reader & stsg, gojo is oblivious/flippant & it pisses reader off, meet ugly, extremely selfship coded
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“Oh, fuck!” 
You barely managed to jump out of the way before a piece of concrete the size of a car flew through the air, smashing into the wall behind where you’d been standing a moment before. You could feel your heartbeat everywhere – your ears, the tips of your fingers, even the soles of your feet – and you fought to get it under control.
This cursed spirit was more than you could handle on your own, and not by a small margin either; you couldn’t remember the last time you’d struggled so much to exorcise a curse on your own. You’d exorcised curses nearly this strong before, sure, but you’d been working with other sorcerers on those missions. 
Being sent on this mission alone felt like a jab from the higher ups: you’d demonstrated on a few occasions when you were manic that you were capable of huge surges of cursed energy output – almost on par with Special Grade sorcerers, or so you’d been told – and that you could take on curses above your official rank as a Grade Two sorcerer, but everyone knew you had no control of when that happened or how long it would last. With that in mind, you could only assume the higher ups were trying to trigger a surge of cursed energy from you, with apparently no concern about whether you died in the process.
You found that you were quite pissed off by that idea. Holding onto that anger quickly dropped down your list of priorities when more concrete started to fly through the air; it landed somewhere after survive, get the fuck out of there, and maybe exorcise the curse. 
No matter where you scrambled off to, no matter where you hid, the curse seemed to know exactly where you were, throwing huge chunks of debris in your direction and barely leaving you the time to draw a breath, let alone try to launch a counterattack. Eventually, there was a few moments of still silence. Whether the curse had run out of things to throw, had tired itself out, or something else entirely, you weren’t sure, but you knew it was your now or never moment.
Taking a steadying breath, you stood from your hiding spot, expecting to finally see the spirit again. Instead, you were met with the sight of a manhole cover flying straight at your head. 
Everything after that was a blur. Instead of your head being turned into strawberry jelly by a giant metal frisbee, something tackled you out of the way, and you watched someone step up to the curse. You fully expected the person to be instantly killed, but much to your shock, the curse seemed to collapse in on itself, crinkling and buckling and growing smaller and smaller until it burst into a cloud of ash.
“Are you okay?”
The voice was gentle and filled with concern, and when you tipped your head back to look at the speaker, you were a bit surprised by what you found.
Hovering over you was Geto Suguru, Special Grade Jujutsu Sorcerer, and all you could think was What is he doing in Kyoto?
When he didn’t get a response, Geto asked you again if you were okay, though this time he asked in English, rather than Japanese. Part of you found that sweet, while another, smaller part of you was annoyed, even if you knew it was fair for him to assume you may not speak Japanese.
“I’m fine,” you replied after a moment, making a point to answer in Japanese, even if it was a little harder with all the adrenaline flooding your system and scrambling your thoughts. “Thank you for saving me.”
“You’re welcome,” he said easily, offering you a small smile and helping you to your feet once again. “Can’t let a good sorcerer die if I can help it.”
“How do you know I’m a good sorcerer?” you asked, somewhat teasingly.
He smiled a bit wider at your words. “Because you didn’t run away, even though you were outmatched.”
“Does that make me good at my job, or just stupid?”
Before Geto could reply, Gojo appeared behind him, a huge grin on his lips. “Good thing we were here to step in,” he said, in English, which only served to irritate you all over again. “You would’ve been toast without us!”
Despite the fact that you had never met Gojo Satoru, Special Grade and Strongest Living Jujutsu Sorcerer, before this moment, his reputation preceded him, and so far, he was living up to the image of the smug, snarky, self-absorbed ass that existed in your head, thanks in no small part to everything you’d heard Iori-sensei say about him while you were under her tutelage.
“I would’ve figured it out,” you groused, pointedly not looking at him as you began to brush the dust off of yourself.
“With your brains splattered on the bricks of an abandoned building?” he laughed, “I highly doubt that.”
“Satoru,” Geto reprimanded, but the other just ignored him.
“Nothin’ wrong with needing help, y’know,” Gojo continued. “Everyone needs help sometimes. Not us, on missions anyways, but. Plenty of sorcerers need backup on almost all their missions! It’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”
That pissed you off, and you shot him the most venomous glare you could. “I’m not helpless, and despite how young I know I look, I’m not a child, and I don’t appreciate being spoken to like one. I am a capable Grade Two sorcerer, who the higher ups apparently decided to either test or kill, with no care about what the outcome was. I can take care of myself. I would have figured it out, thank you very much.”
He cocked his head as you spoke, and when you finished, he shrugged. “If you say so. Looked to me like you were about to become a stain on the ground.”
“Satoru!” Geto sounded properly scandalized then, and though he turned to you, presumably to apologize, you cut him off. Gojo’s words snapped something inside of you, and you let him have it.
“And what if I was? Sorcerers die every single day in our line of work! It’s great that you just get to see this as some sort of game and have fun with it, but the rest of us aren’t that lucky! The rest of us lowly, regular sorcerers have to be intensely aware of every second we’re on a mission, of every injury we sustain; we have to be aware that every time we’re sent on a mission, there’s a chance we’ll never make it home, that we’ll never get to say goodbye to the people we care about. So make all the jokes you want, asshole, and take credit for this mission, since you’re so eager to emphasize that you’re the reason I’m walking away from this. But you need to get a grip and realize that this isn’t a game for everyone else like it is for you. If we run into each other on a mission again in the future, don’t step in unless you’re asked. Nobody’s going to take me seriously if I can’t even complete my own missions.”
As soon as you finished speaking, you turned on your heel and stalked off. Your voice hurt from screaming at him the way you had, and you knew it wasn’t exactly the most mature thing to do, but you couldn’t take the words back. 
Whatever, you thought to yourself, pulling out your phone to call the supervisor to come and pick you up now that the curse had been exorcised. He’s Gojo Satoru. Why would he care whether I like him or not?
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divider by cafekitsune
taglist: @mitsuristoleme @redlikerozez @oceaneyesinla @pixelcafe-network @peachsukii 
@lemonloaves @lu-dao-writes @roselleviennesstuff @alt--er--love @witchbybirth
@dr-runs-with-scissors @benkeibear @teddybeartoji @sugurei @sootspritestar 
join my taglist!
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bronx-bomber87 · 26 days ago
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Hello lovely fandom! It’s tiiimmeeeee. I’m so ready for this premiere. This hiatus felt like the longest one yet. Probably cause they weren’t allowed to share literally anything for months and months. While I might still gripe we’re only getting 18 and 20 would’ve been better….I am psyched to be analyzing a new season ❤️
Changing these up to First impressions cause mini and I don’t get along in terms of brevity. Now imma try and be briefer since I’ll be doing a deep dive next summer. Hopefully in our next hiatus. *fingers crossed* The library still a turd for new gifs. So had to make all mine. Also I must have a new angle at my new place. So they came out not how I wanted lol But after a full day of work I was too tired to re-do them all. It's a miracle this is coming out with how tired I am haha Anyways bear with me and hopefully next weeks gifs are better ha Off we go!
7x01 The Shot.
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Cool thanks recap. Not like we forgot the breakup that ruined us all…Would like to say someday that won't ruin me to watch, but that's a lie...Love that to leave the lineup for recaps now. Thanks.
It's the little things like them sitting next to each other in the swat car that make me so happy. Not gonna lie I was grinning like a damn fool just seeing them seated together. God I missed them. Straight giddy them working together in the field. It’s where they originated. It’s where they’re going to heal.
I love her directing him in the field. That snap of her fingers and he knows instantly what she needs and follows. That beautiful rhythm only they can achieve. Silent communication at it's finest folks. Mmm loving this. Lucy taking down a dude double her size and Tim coming in to help finish him off. Hot damn I love them in the field. Legit ship crack to me everyone. Look at those beautiful humans in motion above. I can't get enough.
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Oooh lord T.O Tim *fans self* Mmm Can’t say haven’t missed him. I'll be real honest. Yum. Thank you Nolan for not undermining him while he sized them up. We would've had words sir. It probably shouldn't delight me watching him tear them apart, and yet here we are with me drooling over him. With zero regrets. Just nice to see him in his element after being knocked out of it last year. I shall enjoy this year for him I can already tell.
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Ha! Bingo card hit. That's one square down. ‘Grey guides Lucy with her career.’ Yasss I’m a dork I know but you all knew this ha Grey pulling strings to get her to T.O. "Temp." I’m sure it’ll stick. He see’s what a good teacher and leader she is. Look at him jumping starting this for her. Nudging her in the right direction.
Lucy not being sure....Still battling with that UC identity and detective path. Some left over S6 bleh hanging around. I think Grey is setting her path and she has no idea how ‘not temporary’ this will be. At least IMO. I see her excelling at this and wanting to stay at it. Plus like Grey said it’ll strengthen her position should detective come back up. Also like to list the reasons why I think this will be good for her.
One it'll rebuild her confidence. Something we all know was shattered and then run over by s6. Second it'll give her a new purpose and clarity for her career. (Which is also a bingo square for me. Yes I'll be tallying mine all year lol) Now she has to accept being a FT one for it to apply but I think it will. Lastly it'll get rid of the pesky 'Chain of Command' issue for them later on. Because we don't want that again.
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Tim enters the chat and he is a most welcome addition. The mini banter about her training. I'm here for it and I love love love it. Look at the flirty smirks on these idiots. Like breathing fresh air once again. The small smirks have me reeling. Gimme. Grey although has no time for this LOL Ushering their asses out. Just happy they can breathe the same air again and not have it be nuclear.
Then the real banter begins. I’ve missed them so much. I wanna cry. Tim instantly offering to give her tips. Is this one of his small doses? Possibly I think he would’ve offered this as an olive branch either way tbh. But I love seeing how eager he is to bond with her over this. Lucy’s so cute with her ‘ My rookie.’ Girl you’re gonna wanna stay a T.O. I already see it.
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Lucy of course has her sassy answer locked and loaded for him. He answers right back. Goodness their banter is top tier. And woo another bingo card for me. Well this was not in my official bingo card. BUT I did say how if she ended up as a T.O. this season this would happen. In my 6x08 review said they would end up doing a bet over who trains a better rookie. And here we are. I'm enjoying my spoils and grinning like a happy fool. Which is nice after spending the second half of s6 being emotionally spent and destroyed.
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Oh Lucy, like you could ever walk way from your man about a competitive bet of all things. This is how they’re gonna heal my friends. Going back to the beginning. To their roots. Where this rock solid bond was started. In the field. Along with some banter and fiery competition thrown in. This new dynamic has me so giddy I can’t even contain myself.
You can see how excited Tim is she’s going to be a T.O. With him. Flirting with her by offering this up. Moth to a flame with her in general. But this? Man is raring to go. Being a T.O and competition with his girl? He is beaming with excitement. Also probably knows this is a good way to further his cause of mending fences.
The goading of her oh my lord. It’s s4 all over again and I’m here for it. Except Tim is far more aware he’s in love with this woman. The straight teasing and flirting in front of the entire station. Welcome back. Oh my word I love sfm. His telling smirk is amazing. Reeling her back in slowly LOL
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Nolan actually ignites more flirty flirts for them when he tells them about the ringer. Because classic John can't shut his yapper. I’ve truly missed this high grade goodness though. Lucy accusing him of hustling her haha Tim deescalates her like only he can with his strong logic. Saying it's actually harder that he has previous experience. He’s not wrong. First thing I thought about him when they said he had experience…Poor Seth called a virgin lmao
The rookies get assigned and we get jealous/protective Tim. Welcome back to our screens. You've been missed. *grabs ice water* This premiere is trying to kill me in the best way. I was here for the show. You tell that cocky little boy babe. I think someone else had one of the rookies flirts with Lucy in their bingo card. So you get that square ha The balls to do that in front of Tim. This kid has a death wish on wheels.
Ovary explosion at the way he barked at him though. Man is making me thirsty af. Also this kid is not a ringer in the least. I know what it’s like to de-program someone. It’s not easy. When I would get someone from another team (and terrible manager btw) I would spend the first 30 days just getting rid of the bad habits before I could begin to mold them. So ringer he is not....Lucy has a better shot with fresh meat tbh. Seth is far more impressionable. Hence her finishing line above.
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Tim TEARS Texas a new one. Was kind of hoping he would. Nothing like a solid Tim T.O. rant. This kid needed it holy cow. Too damn cocky for a rookie even with experience. Makes it worse. Get em Tim! I’m enjoying this far too much. Haha Mmm. Sidelines his ass as he should. Maybe he can rejoin when his ego is in check.
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This scene had me cackling. First off look at them both with crossed arms. I'm dying. Also Lying liars who lie LOL Both struggling a little bit with their rookies. It’s hilarious. Can’t ever admit fault of course. Very s4 vibes going on here I love it sfm.
Friggin Nolan has to be include himself...Listen John they checked the guest list for this work flirt convo. You're not on it sir. So needy this one. He actually didn't bug me much at all in this one. Probably the lack of Bailey....
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Tim’s final T.O scene has me drooling holy hell. The jacket, the stern taking to, and telling them to suck less? I’m dying hahaha I loved how this was shot. Seeing the faces as Tim grills them both. Putting them in place. I love it sfm I'm so VERY excited for this season for him. If this was our look into it I am ready for more.
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Oh my word, this final scene of theirs. If you don’t feel giddy, and a sense of promise for reconciliation from this interaction, I can't help you. LOL. I mean that in the nicest way haha I really do. The subtext running through this scene like a bullet train of hope. The moment begins with puppy dog Tim. Let’s take a second to contrast how he just was with the rookies earlier. To seeing his girl in the parking lot. That's the Lucy Chen effect.
That man is walking on air, and beaming his best ‘Lucy’ smile as he approaches her car, looking like a damn snack I wanna devour. I adore the swapping of stories. Giving each other shit but staying confident in their abilities to right their rookies ships as it were. Lucy saying ‘Tomorrow is another day.’ With Tim’s hopeful ‘Yes it is.’ Got me all in my damn feels. To me it’s a positive setup for the entire season. The low key flirty vibes here are glorious first and foremost. Second the flirting inside the promise with those two lines has me reeling.
The smiles they both convey just shows our babies are healing. Lucy is healing. She isn’t holding back with the positivity and flirting right back. There is this underlying UST too. But the most beautiful part is their talk about 'Tomorrow'. Tomorrow is another day for them to get one step closer to being who they once were. Only stronger. Tim’s 'Yes it is.' Is everything. His tone of voice, how he’s looking at her, and that determination to make something out of every day he gets with her. Driven to make tomorrow a day he inches one step closer to the promise he made in the elevator in 6x10. Oooh lord I’m excited for this season.
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I said couple days ago how amped I was for this new dynamic. Them being T.O’s together and finding their way back in this fashion. It’s a fantastic and true to them way to do it. Couldn’t be more excited. The LOOKS everyone my god. The way he is pining after her. Doesn’t tear eyes away for a second as she pulls off. And our girl checks the mirror not once but TWICE.
Making eyes right back at him. This scene should excite the hell out of you. I’m scaling the walls right now haha This is as a very very promising opening episode for them. Little more proof they're going to make their way back. Won't be right away but it's coming. This is what I was longing for when we left off all those months ago.
For them to be in a better place to even start this healing. I’m so ready for this journey. I really am. Trusting the writers to do this at the right pace. So when it does happen and it will. We’re gonna be on cloud 9 x1000 Ooof lord that was good. They know how to close out an ep our ship. Watched promo for next ep. I’m vibrating with excitement.
The UST I feel from that little clip is the beauty of Eric and Melissa. This season gonna be incredible i feel it deep in my soul baha Now I’m excited we don’t have a break now that we’re here. As always thank you thank you thank you. To any and all who comments(love me to chat don’t be shy wanna theorize with you all) , like or reblog these. You have no idea how much it means to me. Also proud of myself for keeping this brief ish for me lol Below is my side notes feel free to comment on anything said in this or below till next week my lovely fandom :)
~~
Side notes non Chenford
No Bailey in a the premiere was already staring off with a win for me. Sorry Jenna but ya know lol sorta not….really…
Lieutenant Grey! So happy for him. Solid reasoning why he got it. Sucks he feels bad but I'm glad for him.
Lots of action off the bat hot damn. They said we'd have more and I loved it
Oooh loving Wes being assumed to the station. Welcome sir. Happy to have you and more Wopez moments to come.
Aaron went to north Hollywood someone had to lol Makes sense he would leave due to Blair. Also leaves the door open for him to return someday. Which makes my heart happy.
Poor Wes has to hear the recording of a man wanting to do things to his wife lol oh my lord. He’s legit having a meltdown about it hahah I sense some trouble for Wopez. Should be interesting season for them.
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madthetruemad · 1 year ago
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I love Wrio too!! And thanks for requesting!! I didn't know that someone wanted a part 2 to this little angst oneshot XD
I hope you enjoy! <33
Just Being Nice Pt. 2
Pt. 1 can be found here.
Wriothesley x Reader / Neuvillette x Reader
Warnings | angst with comfort, use of "y/n"
Wriothesley knew, deep down, that what he had with Lumine wouldn't last. Especially once she got done with her business in Fontaine. The breakup between them was quick, to say the least. Though, Lumine did offer to let him join her. To have Wriothesley travel with her and help her find her brother. The offer, at first, was tempting, but he knew his place was in Fontaine. He knew his place was with the Fortress of Meropide.
Not to mention that the thought of leaving ... hurt for some reason. He couldn't quite place the feeling.
Whatever that feeling was.
So he tried to ignore the ache in his heart by delving more into his work. Everyone seemed to take notice how he took less and less breaks throughout the days that passed. Though, most did seem to see how he would relax just a little when you would come by with reports.
Everyone knew who you were. You worked as Neuvillette's second in command and were always tasked with giving and receiving reports to and from Wriothesley. It was how the the chief justice and the duke kept in touch with each other.
And Sigewinne took an immediate notice how Wriothesley started to count the days that you would show up over the next few months ever since the traveler left. It was cute.
"Has y/n ... shown up yet?"
It was a question that he found himself frequently asking, and at first he didn't know why. Well, until he went up to the surface one day for a 'personal day' as Sigewinne liked to call it.
The sun was bright, it made his eyes squint and try to adjust. The air felt too fresh, the breeze too cool. He started to miss the darkness the Fortress provided.
And as he was walking around, people avoiding him and him avoiding people, he came across a small patch of rainbow roses. They were pretty. And instead of thinking of Lumine. He thought of someone else. He thought of you.
His heart clenched at the mere thought of you. Made his breathing hitch and his eyes to sting.
Oh, archons. He knew what this feeling was. Over these past few months, he fell for you. Despite rejecting you all that time ago, you never once brought your personal life to work. You were professional, independent, and you never let your weakness show. Wriothesley liked that about you, and as you would visit him for work, it was only a matter of time before he felt the same way about you as you had about him.
But .. did you even feel that way- do you still love him?
"Your Grace?"
He heard your voice immediately, and he couldn't deny the pain he felt when you didn't call him by his name as he had asked you to when he first met you all that time ago.
Not to mention that it surprised him slightly to hear your voice here of all places. Out in the open, with bystanders walking past.
"Oh, y/n. I didn't know you would be here," he said as he turned to look at you, and he couldn't stop his the way his breath caught in his throat. You were all dolled up. You looked so pretty. The clothes you were wearing were way different from the usual work attire he saw you in.
You smiled, "the same can be said for you. It's unusual to see the great duke of the Fortress to be out and about like this."
He noted how your smile seemed happier. He was glad that you were starting to be your usual self again even if he wasn't the one to make you feel this way.
"Well, what can I say, Sigewinne has been continuously telling me to take a personal day, so here I am. And how about you? Are you also taking a personal day?"
You could immediately feel the way your face grew hot, the tips of your ears feeling as if they are on fire, "you could say that... I'm actually spending my off day with someone..."
"Oh?"
"Yeah... I'm-," you seemed to gather any courage you had within yourself and took a breath, "I'm on a date."
"A...date?"
He felt his ears start to ring as if someone had punched his lights out in boxing cage. His heart seeming to thump loud in his chest.
He opened his mouth to ask who you were on a date with, but his unanswered question was soon answered.
"Ah, there you are y/n."
A gentle hand patted your arm before sliding into your palm, your fingers intertwining with his own.
"Neuvillette, you're right on time."
"As always, y/n."
As always, Wriothesley thought, that means they went on more than one date.
"Wriothesley. It's odd to see you here."
He chuckled a bit and decided to hide his pain, "it seems it's odd to see any of us here since we three are usually known for being at our desks and hard at work. Anyway, I hope you two will enjoy your date, so if you'll excuse me."
He gave them a nod before turning to leave.
"See you at work tomorrow, Wriothesley!"
He smiled as he turned to wave at you, at least you called him by his name this time.
And even though he regrets not reciprocating your feelings all those months ago and foolishly being with someone who he knew was going to leave him one day to look for her brother ... he was also happy to see that bright smile on your face.
"Are you alright, y/n?"
You leaned your head against Neuvillette's shoulder, eyes trained on Wriothesley's retreating figure, "yeah, I saw him standing here all alone, so I was just being nice and decided to talk to him was all. Besides, I promise I'm ok. I'm with you now, remember?"
You stood on your tippy-toes and placed a gentle kiss to Neuvillette's jawline since you weren't quite able to reach his cheek.
Neuvillette was at a loss for words by your declaration, but seeing as how it didn't rain for the coming weeks - it was safe to say you had a positive impact on his life.
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weirdgenetic-fuckup · 4 months ago
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MODERN IZZY BLOWING OUT FEM READERS BACK
A/n: I am still without wifi but I should hopefully be able to post kinktober on time just bear with me 🥲
Warnings: Smut, daddy kink, breeding kink, if you think I missed anything let me know otherwise enjoy!
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Izzy was a busy man. It was necessary that he have someone take care of his house when he couldn't but it was always nice not to have to deal with it. And really you were thankful for the job as he offered you a room, your options were him or your parents. It was clear where you were opting for.
Izzy was always nice, he'd leave a list of things weekly that had to be done, certain rooms cleaned, grocery list, pet care, etc. It was never anything big, on the few occasions it was he'd always tell you to take your time with it or even ask him for help.
For the most part you'd just take your time waking up, make yourself breakfast unless he was home in which case you'd wake up earlier and make him food as well, but when he was off somewhere you just got to take it easy in the morning and then you'd get to your tasks.
Today was just like any other day, you knew Izzy would be home soon so you were getting dinner ready, pasta.
Izzy got home and he was in a particularly bad mood, it was obvious the way he slammed the door shut, his shoulders slumped and the furrow in his brows.
"How was your day?" You asked as he came into the kitchen. He paused a moment and looked to you, the gears turning in his mind.
He came right up beside you, leaning on the counter. "All you do is cook and clean and I pay you for that..." He said, voice gruff.
You nodded, stirring sauce in a pan. "Yeah... I told you I'd be fine just to have a room be my pay, you know." He waved you off and shook his head.
"No, no, I mean..." He looked you over, eyes lingering on your hips and ass. "You're like a housewife, only at the end of the day you go back into your room and I go into mine."
You gave a small, slow nod at his words. "Isn't that a housewife? At the end of the day I just lock up in my drawer?"
Izzy thought for a moment before moving to be standing behind you, hands finding your hips and pulling you back to him while you kept cooking. "You're missing an important part of being a housewife, darling." Your breath caught in your throat.
Of course you'd always been fond of Izzy, he was always nice to you and he was handsome. Let's face it, he didn't look down on you and had money to support you. His being nice and handsome was also nice.
However, now that his hands were on you, lips close to your ear and breath fanning over your cheek. Your knees were weak, it had been so long since you'd felt anyone's hands on you, with the pay check Izzy was giving you you'd been able to get toys, but as his hand slipped into you jeans you were remembering that silicone was nothing like the real thing, given he was experienced, which Izzy was more than.
He didn't want to waste much time as food was almost done and he was hungry, so were you. He made sure you were wet before dropping both your pants and pushing into you, groaning in your ear as he felt you clenching around him.
"Don't-don't do that, darling." He grunted, nipping at your ear. "Don't push me out, I need this." You nodded, pushing back against him.
With one hand on your hip, the other on your cunt, fingers circling your clit, he started thrusting into you, hips snapping into yours over and over, driving your mind wild.
You tried to focus on your cooking, Izzy needed stress relief, that's all this was... but, if that's all it was, why would he be rubbing you so sweetly?
You set the wooden spoon you were using to stir the sauce down, gripping the counter tightly as Izzy stretched you out, veins dragging against your gummy walls, tip hitting deep inside you.
"Oh, fuck, daddy, please!" You hadn't even realized how loudly you were moaning until the words slipped past your lips, at that point there was no turning back. "M'so close, daddy, please!"
Izzy's lips went to your neck, kissing and sucking, teeth digging into your sensitive skin. He waited for your legs to be shaking under you to let you cum. "Be good, darling, be good for me and cum on my dick." He said between grunts, still rutting desperately into you, reaching for his own high.
You did just as he asked, screaming out for him as your body shook, pleasure rocketing through you. All that warmth was met with the heat of Izzy's seed pumping into you, painting your insides.
He held you close a moment longer, keeping you tight to his chest while the both of you caught your breath.
Izzy kissed your neck a last time before kissing your cheek and finally your temple. "What a sweet thing, you are..." He mused. "Go sit, I'll finish up the food." He said, patting your ass as he pulled out of you.
While he was getting food you decided to set the table, utensils and such. He came over before you were done and sat down, shirt long gone with his pants.
You went to sit next to him but he grabbed your hips and pulled you onto his lap, you felt him against you already. "Darling, you already wanna act like a housewife, why not be a mother, too?" He asked, hard cock prodding your hole.
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hazelfoureyes · 11 months ago
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Someone nice, Somewhere safe
Angel x Virgin Male Reader
જ⁀➴ Angel x Virgin Female Reader - Someone nice, Somewhere safe*
*same story, just your bits and bobbles are changed 
You let it slip to the group you were a virgin, and instead of laughing, Angel grabs you before bed to offer a friendly hand.
<Warnings/Promises: Angel Dust x Virgin Male!Reader, smut, fingering, lubed to the gods, Angel uses four arms, Valentino is a blind bag of smashed assholes, creampie, oral, the gentlest sex I’ve ever written (probably), an alarming towel>
listen here virgins, if I could craft a perfect first time for you, this is it. Minus the lack of condoms because—it’s hell? Sex workers are tested bi-weekly?? This is still a fantasy??? Just if anything, please take from this the importance of a safe and trusting environment at all times 🙏  
minor dni (shoo! get outta here! Go on, git! 🧹)
You thought everyone would laugh when you said you were a virgin. The group awe’d and said it was cute, which was definitely better than the response you’d gotten in the overworld. But when Angel made a joke that your toys must be worn to the base, you felt the need to clarify. Total virgin, never used toys or your hands for, you cringed, penetration. Everyone just looked… sad? The conversation was quickly derailed by Angel launching into a list of wildest orgasm faces he’s seen, Charlie leaving the room entirely.
Continuing with the evening’s theme of surprise, you hadn’t expected Angel to catch up to you when everyone was filing off to bed. His hand gently reached for your wrist, “Hey ya got a sec?”
 For Angel, the epitome of smiling through the pain, you’d give him the remainder of your time in hell if he just asked. Every second, his.“Always!”
“So uh”, he rubbed the back of his neck, “about bein’ a virgin and all that.” Your stomach dropped, was the famous porn star about to embarrass you into a second death?“I think it’s real important that like— knowin’ yourself, and what makes you feel good is like super healthy. I dunno if you are interested in that kinda stuff but,” he was wildly moving his hands round, nervously stumbling over his words, “I’d be happy to help ya out.”
All of the blood rushed to your face.
“Oh fuck!” Angel grabbed your head and tipped it forward, “I would have accepted a simple no, jesus!” With one hand pinching your nose, he led you into his room just down the hall. 
What— what was happening, exactly? At all? In general? With your entire existence?
He kicked the door closed behind him and grabbed a handful of tissues, “Keep your head forward. Everyone who says tilt it back is an idiot.”
His hand was red when he drew it from your face, using his other hand to now hold tissues between his fingers as he pinched your nose shut.
“Is- is my nose bleeding??” Your voice cracked.
“Does that happen often?”
“Never.”
“Well I got to help you with at least one first, right?” Angel laughed, moving his hands away as you took over the task.
Oh, right. The offer. You glanced around the room, small but lived-in. Everything was pink and purple and soft.
“Angel, do you think because you’re a sex worker, you have to help me?” The room fell silent. Angel completely still beside you. You would love someone you could trust to take your virginity, but you would never want to use Angel like so many other people did on a daily basis.
“Ya know— a lot of people get real confused about this.” He sighed, chest heavy with the many misconceptions others had, “What I do for work, what I gotta do to get through the day, has nothin’ to do with who I am as a person.” You turned to look at him, “Why should I limit my experiences because of what other people have done to me?” The words hit you like a truck. You had unintentionally boxed him into his job, in turn into his trauma, summing him up as a warm body and incapable of any depth past that. Just a sex worker.
“No, no I didn’t mean anything like that. I just, I don’t want to ever,” you grabbed two of his hands, “ever take advantage of your kindness.” You squeezed, “or any part of you.”
His frown turned up, “We’re dead, yea, but you still exist. If you want to, you should enjoy every part of your afterlife. And I’d hate you to meet some asshole who’s too rough or doesn’t get ya warmed up first. A bad first time can be really traumatizin’.”
You nodded without actually thinking. Your brain wasn’t really processing meaning, his words were just soft and kind and your nose still stuffed full of tissue.
“Do you wanna?”
You nodded more vigorously, “Did my nose start bleeding again?”
Angel took the tissue away, giving a second to see, “Nope.”
Taking a deep breath, you said, “Okay. Yeah, I want that. Someone nice, somewhere safe.”
“It ain’t quite nice but-,” Angel looked around his room.
“It’s perfect, Angel.”
“Aw fuck, I should clean up,” he hurriedly carried trash from his nightstand, flattening out the comforter and adjusting his pillows. He placed fat nuggets on the floor with a little pat on the head.
Finally, he stood in front of you, two hands on his hips, two gesturing to you.
“Alright baby! Let’s pop some cherries! Undress~” he elongated the word, shimmying his hips a little, “-to your comfort level.” He began to unbutton his blazer, “Bare minimum, take off your pants and underwear, please and thank you. Though I have fucked through underwear…” He was momentarily lost in a memory.
You hadn’t anticipated getting naked in front of a friend tonight. But Angel so effortlessly shed his clothes, peeling off his gloves. Pulling off your pants, you paused.
“Is it weird if I keep my shirt on? Like— do you know who Winnie the Pooh is?”
“Nothin’ weird about bein’ comfortable, pookie.” He pinched your cheek, “I’d offer a modesty blanket but I kinda need to see what I’m doing.” His eyes flitted to the left, “No, wanna. I wanna see.” Angel’s laugh relaxed you, the idea of anyone wanting to see you made you feel a little less—-naked. Still, your hands seemed frozen on your underwear’s edge.
With a hum, he disappeared into the bathroom and returned with a towel. “Go on, lie down. I’ll help ya relax. This is already feeling too medical-like.”
Were you going to need a towel? Were you going to need a towel?? Were you going to need a towel!?
You sat back on his bed, and when he crawled up to meet you, all legs and arms and Angel Dust, you buried your face in your hands.
“Oh hey—,” his voice was so soft, lacking its usual sass, “Wanna just, cuddle and watch stupid shit on my phone?” You groaned, face sinking further down. This would be easier if he wasn’t so sweet. You could at least take a backseat, then.
You shook your head, and felt his hand on your ankle. It snaked up your calf, slipped down your knee and thigh, finding the waistband of your underwear. When you looked up from your hiding place, Angel was a foot from your face. His features lit only by the purple neon signs hanging beside his bed and near the door. He lifted his brows, a question he didn’t need to vocalize. You sank back into the purple and pink pillows, different sizes, different textures, gently enveloping you.
With two hands now, he slide off your underwear. You might die, again. Your heart would give out any second, incapable of handling the moment. You were manually breathing.
He lifted your hips with two hands, a third sliding the towel beneath you before setting you back down.
“Do ya-,” he was rummaging now inside the nightstand drawer, “not play with yourself? Ever?”
“Not really. Not like, there.”
“Whaddya do with all your free time?” His short but enthusiastic laughter forced a smile to your cheeks. Angel slid the drawer shut and came to rest in front of your tightly shut thighs and knees. You heard a cap pop, and found the courage to sit up and see what he was doing.
“What?” He squeezed a clear, thick lubricant onto his right hand, “Don’t let anyone tell you ya don’t need lube. No fun for no one, trust me. Could start a fuckin’ fire—- and spit ain’t lube!” Angel said it like he spoke from a personal experience.
Ah, the towel. That made sense now.
“Should I do something?”
“Just lie back, baby~,” he opened your knees and followed your face as you settled back down, “Do you like kissin’?”
You’d kiss a trashcan if Angel said it got him hot, so, “Yeah.”
“Good,” One hand touched your cheek, sliding to your chin as he brought your lips to his. You thought you’d melt, his hands so soft on you, lips confident and sure. He used his thumb on your chin to pull down your bottom lip and ask you for entrance. When you opened up to him, his tongue slid into yours as his sticky wet hand finally touched you. Two fingers rubbing the lube up and down your ass.
You nearly inhaled him with your shock, he giggled into it, “You’re so cute.” You twitched under his hand, “Ooh, and reactive! Daddy likes.”
Stop. Stop talking. I’m going to black out.
His mouth returned to yours, tongue over your tongue, as his fingers just massaged your entrance. No attempt at entering, no prodding, just gentle up and down motions. Slowly, your felt your skin heating beneath his hand, the lubricant somewhat melting with your warmth.
At work, Angel was never the lead. Never the top, and never afforded time to ease anyone open. He had no issues with topping, it just wasn’t his normal role. Watching you sigh and twitch under him felt like a treat. Such a sweet response to what so many people made unnecessarily dirty at work. He wasn’t shocked to find his cock twitching, swelling as your breathing hitched with every stroke of his hand. When was the last time he could just… slow down? Be the one in control? Not control like Val, control like—- can I get you a pillow? Is the pacing good? Let’s soften these lights.  Hold my hand, sweetheart.
His head felt a little dizzy. His middle finger pressed now, and with a slow but constant motion entered you. ‘Uncomfortable’ was the best word. Your body tensed around him, but he gently pressed past your virgin walls. He hummed, “First one down! Atleast,” he paused, “two more to go.”
“Atleast??” You shook your head.
“It’s sex math, trust the professional in the room.” He withdrew the finger and slid it back in, starting a slow pace of long drags from knuckle to fingertip.
It didn’t hurt, to his credit. The excitement of having Angel touching you so intimately made the finger easier to relax into. Angel must have noticed, his finger leaving you. He popped the top again of his lube and pressed in two fingers. This was harder. You whined, his fingertips pushing past the tight ring of muscle and settling into the wet warmth behind.
Lying on your back, you stared at the now upside-down photos behind his bed. He looked so happy. Could you join that wall? Was this wall worthy?
“You still good?” He leaned over you, fingers  moving.
You nodded, “Can I have another kiss?”
Ah, you might as well have punched him in the chest. “Of course, darlin’~ Ask and you shall receive.” You liked kissing, genuinely, but were always scared you’d kiss someone too long and end up in an awkward situation having to explain you weren’t wanting sex. But that fear was all gone, you’d broken the code. Get naked first, then kiss.
You smiled into his mouth, and he smiled back, “Whatcha thinkin’ about?”
“I like kissing you.” You leaned up, pressing your lips to his chin. His fingers quickened, and you moaned without warning. You felt your cock twitch, erection growing as nervousness was slinking away and finally letting you feel aroused.
“Ooh, now we’re gettin’ somewhere,” he leaned back, repeating the same steps and trying to press a third finger into you. His abundance of hands were a blessing, one at your entrance, one on your knee to keep your shaking legs open, and two roaming down the sides of your body. When three fingers finally entered, you could feel the burning stretch of your skin around them. He pushed in, and the skin followed. He pulled out, your sensitive hole pulling too. The hand on your knee came to your crotch, his palm pressing lightly down on your growing erection. You glanced up to him, his eyes focused as he watched his fingers slowly drag in and out of you. It burned still, but just past that burning was a slippery sensation that made your cock jump under his hand.
He let his fingers sink in entirely, before bending and feeling inside you. Your knee jumped when he hit something.
“Bingo! Say hello to your g-spot.” He beamed down at you, gold tooth shining, “You don’t really need it to cum but oooh boooy does it maximize pleasure,” it sounded so pornographic when he said it.
You weakly copied, “B-bingo.” 
“I can do this now~” he replaced his palm with his fingers,  sticky with lube, and they wrapped around your cock. His hand slowly pumped up and down your shaft. “Sex math. Don’t need your virgin ass locking up on me.” He said quietly to himself, fingers in and out of you picking up speed. Your head was pressing into the pillows as your neck strained, you’d never masturbated while someone, something, penetrated you. Every stroke of his hand made your body clench, the feeling of something hard and unforgiving pushing back against your quivering hole made a pleasure you couldn’t describe.
“Feelin’ good yet?” The way he said it, he knew damn well how you were feeling.
You whimpered into one of the pillows, “Feels good.” A weak nod.
Angel’s grin bordered on wicked, hand slowing. He leaned down and placed a kiss on your cock head. Then another. His tongue flattened against his bottom lip as he dragged it over your sensitive slit.
You moaned, a half spoken-half cried, “Oh fuck, Angel-.” Hips bucking up, his fingers kept their place and followed. You humped up against his tongue, ground down into his fingers; up, down. Soft tongue, rigid fingers.
“You can fuck my face, baby,” He opened his mouth, tongue out, and looked up at you from your stomach. “I ain’t got a gag reflex anymore, popsicles slide in like— well, cocks.” He lowered his mouth onto you, leaving room for you to move. His fingers slowed in you.
You thrust up slowly, testing the sensation. His mouth closed around you, tongue moving along you shaft as you rutted into his face.
One hand held tightly to the pillow, the other coming to Angel’s hair. Your body kept jumping away from overstimulation but you fought against it every time and tried to grind against his face.
His fingers slipped out of you, your body closing back around the space where they were. That feeling of your hole tightening made you hungry for his fingers to spread you back open. His hand came to cup your balls, feeling the weight in his palm.
He lifted his mouth off you with a deliberate pop, “Gettin’ close already?” You nodded, eyes closed. “Ready for the real thing?”
“Yeah. I need more, Angel.” It came out as a whine, shocking you a little.
His hand came to his erection, red and leaking. Stroking himself, he returned to massaging at your puffy and swollen entrance.
“You comfortable with gettin’ on your knees? This position ain’t so conducive for what I’m tryin’ to do.”
Somehow, ass up sounded better than face to face, “You’re the expert.” You rolled onto your stomach, hips up, face resting into the sea of pillows. You paused, lifted off your now sweaty shirt, and got back into position. 
“Sexpert, but thank you!” The lid popped open again, cold and viscous lube being dripped directly onto your ass, “Finally some recognition around here.” He coated himself with what was still on his hands, and raised your hips to line himself up.
“Deep breaths, okay?” He leaned over your back, kisses falling down your skin. Two hands held your hips, one guided himself into you. You tensed when his head began to push in, “Relaaax, just like the fingers.”
A muffled, “okay” from your place in the pile. Your heart was suddenly racing, erection now gone. He wiped his dick up and down your ass, swiping past your entrance, dragging the edge of your hole with the crook of his head. Lining up, he pushed in, getting his head firmly sunk into you.
“Breath, baby,” he moaned into your shoulder. You took a deep breath in, your body tight still. But, it didn’t hurt like you’d thought. It burned, but there was no sting, no tearing. Angel’s hands ran up and down your sides, along you ass and thighs. He gently touched everywhere he could reach, until he felt you soften, “Ready to keep going?”
“Yes please”, you turned your head to look at him.
He pulled out slightly to collect more lube on his shaft, before slowly sinking into you until he bottomed out.
You were gasping, your brain misfiring. You couldn’t feel anything but him, your body just a formless thought with Angel’s warm, solid cock reaching deeper into than you thought possible. One roaming hand reached for your shoulder, “Can I move?”
“Slow,” your hand searched for a loose fold of comforter to grip, but it was soon encased and intertwined by one of his.
He pulled out, and slowly thrust back in. A saccharine moan fell from his mouth, and it made you whimper. 
You were so soft around him, yet your entrance was gripping him so snuggly he felt like he was melting into you. His breath was unsteady, “You feel so good on my cock, baby.” A burning blush took over your face, your erection jumping back to life.
“How ya doin’?” Angel sounded nervous, timid.
You had to collect saliva to get any words out, mouth running dry from panting, “S’good.” You tried again, “So good.” Your fingers tightened around his.
He adjusted his hips, watching you closely. When your eyes closed and your hand nearly broke his, he grinned down, “Bingo~,” his speed began to pick up. 
“Fuuuuck, Angel-,” you dragged out the last syllable of his name. You could feel your orgasm returning after dying down earlier. 
Angel took languid thrusts out to the tip and pushing back past your still resisting entrance. Every time he pulled out and slipped in felt better than before. The sensations of him opening you around his cock again and again had your stomach and thighs tensing. You brought your hand up to stroke your own pulsing dick, slowly pumping. 
Angel’s hand came down and wrapped around your cock, taking over your own attempts. The feeling of him in you and around you was overwhelming.
“Cumming,” You hissed, squeezing his hand tighter, his thrusts becoming faster and shallower. His repeated pressing of your g-spot pushed you over the edge, hand slowly milking you of every drop of cum.
Angel’s moans got louder, your body tightening in spasms as you emptied your balls onto the towel. Your body was so inviting, warm walls sucking his head deeper. He rarely got to feel this sensation. His head rested against your back, hands running along the curve of your hips as he melted into your sweet heat.
He picked up speed, only drawing out an inch or so now with each thrust. The lube made a pop and squelch every time his skin pulled from yours, the sound making his legs weak.
“Where can I cum?” His breath was raspy, messy with the pleasure of your soft insides rubbing along his shaft. You gripped the blanket, dick jerking from the feeling of Angel chasing his release with your body. You could hear the strain in his voice, “Gonna need an answer real fast, babe.” You hid your face in the pillow mountain again, embarrassed to answer.
“Inside,” you tried to say it loudly enough for him to hear.
He whimpered a, “Fuuuuck” down your spine, “Such a dirty little virgin.” His hips stuttered before he sunk into you with such force your legs gave out. Your body came down flush onto the bed, towel sticking to your stomach and thighs. Angel was pressed into you, chest against your back as his breathing calmed. You could feel his heart through your ribs, his chest fluff silky on your skin. Your body was warm, his hot cum filling you.
Small, lazy kisses on your back, then up your neck, he leaned to kiss your cheek. He slid out of you delicately, but you didn’t move.  His weight left the bed, then returned as a warm, wet cloth wiped you clean. After a couple of minutes of gentle cleaning, you felt the throw blanket cover your back. Angel plopped down on his back beside you, pulling the blanket over his legs and unlocking his phone, “Wanna see this fuckin’ hilarious video of my boss runnin’ into a glass wall?”
You chuckled, nodding, making no effort to get up. One of his hands came down and ruffled your hair, he leaned in to your head and as you watched Valentino collide head first into a wall, he said softly, “Let me know if you need anything. I got a bitchin’ tub in there.”
You hummed, reaching a shakey hand up and pressing ‘replay’ on his phone. Angel’s laughter echoed off the walls, and you decided you had no plans on leaving bed anytime soon.
Sweet smut inspired by HunnyPaint on pornhub and fansly! 🍯🎨 If you like femboyxfemboy, I highly recommend. They make love look hot. Their fansly is also priced well! 10/10 (again, talking to legal adult humans here)
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morgana-ren · 8 months ago
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Throwing out the idea that Astarion furiously masturbates over your sleeping body while he drinks your blood. Your blood is the first he’s ever drank in 200 years, it also dosn’t help that you keep being so nice to him. He can’t help it.
I am sorta back after months of medical troubles and I am announcing it in my normal fashion: with a reprehensible smut piece.
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Warning: Extreme sexual content, vulgar language, thoughts of noncon, references to noncon, semi-dark Astarion, things that could be interpreted as sexual violence and regular violence, blood and the works.
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The skulking has him feeling like more of a lowly rat than usual. He slinks quietly through the fauna like a cat stalking a canary, sneaking across the camp where he has made his own nest, his eyes darting about at every slight flicker of light and every unexpected noise. His comrades-in-arms sleep peacefully, strewn about the ground and various makeshift tents, blissfully unaware that a monster lurks within their midsts, and he fully intends to keep it that way.
As dastardly and lowly as he feels, an unknown feeling courses through him. Something that leaves him feeling strong– predatory. The weak blood of rodents and livestock thrums through his veins, every synapse sparking alive, the string and sinew of his body singing to his limbs in anticipation. Anxiety sends his thoughts racing, and yet, he is giddy as a child with mischief on the mind.
A long-denied truth demands acknowledgement, and so he finally acknowledges it. He is vampire. And he is hunting. 
Even a spawn possesses fangs sharp enough to rend flesh from bone and claws of steel, honed to a fine point. His senses so keen that he is aware of the deer that scamper in the forest and the birds coupled away in the branches of trees on the outskirts of the meadow. The pulsing of blood that rings a siren’s song in his ears, awakening the long-dead glands nestled alongside his teeth.
He finds that, for once, he is not the victim in the arrangement. No, he isn't. In fact, he is the horror, looming over his vulnerable and slumbering mark, their body entirely at his mercy— His right to his to sink deep fang and claw and anything else he might deem fit, helpless to stop him. For once, his true self shines through in the dim firelight of camp, and he is not the Astarion he has been browbeaten into seeing himself as. He is not unmolded clay, ready to be shaped at will by clutching hands and eager thoughts. He is not malleable and he shall not bend. 
He is not Astarion the spawn; Astarion the mongrel; Astarion the Honeypot; Astarion the tool to be used and discarded. He is not the meek, or the charming, or whatever else his prey finds need of. He is power and gluttonous greed incarnate. He is the prowling shadow over the unsuspecting sweet and he will take what he needs. 
He is Astarion the Vampire– and he is ravenous.
The gentle toe-tip-toe through the grass to where his prey lies ignorant, sleeping so terribly peacefully, his silken shoes making nary a sound as he creeps ever closer. Feet light as air, graceful as a swan. Even the wind seems to disregard his presence, passing over him with hardly a fuss through his silver curls.
They suspect not a thing. Even the warrioress Lae’zel, her sharpened senses whetted like a blade, keeps her eyes sheathed shut, her breath even and her body unmoving. There is no cry of anger or protest as he approaches the clutch of blankets where you have made your rest, leering over your slumbering form, feeling all parts pure need as he observes.
Saliva slicks his ivory teeth like a slavering mutt, his hands almost shaking as he kneels on bended knee to witness the gently pulsing column of your exposed throat. It calls to him, sings to his senses, and every ounce of his being begs him to shred hungrily into his meal like a carnivore– like a beaten animal starved of nourishment. Like a dog offered scraps of offal.
But he is not an animal, and you are useful to him yet. He is dignified, but more than that, he is in control of himself. He is in control of his words and actions, and for one time in his all-too-long life, he will not yield to the whims of another, even the dark voice in the back of his mind that urges him to rip and tear and maul like the wretched thing he is. 
No, his first meal will not be one of viscera and terror and screaming, even as the idea appeals to the baser parts of him. It shall be quiet and quick as a rogue in the night, and though he would expect disappointment from the revelation, he finds that this moment shared privately with himself and only himself is something he intends to treasure. 
He has named you for his mark for this most special of occasions. Even as he knows you likely wouldn’t feel honored by such a thing, he feels a quiet sense of pride on your behalf. You are his first taste of true life. A place of high honor in the triumvirate of freedom:
His first glimpse of the sun; his first venture into the world; his first true meal. 
Gentle as a lover, he kneels over you, teeth bared, scarlet eyes flashing in the firelight. A calm hand on your shoulder to steady you, the other splayed across the grass to anchor himself. His fingers quake in both eagerness and anxiety, his hearing hypersensitive to every rustle and sigh that does not belong to the chorus of nature in the evening hours. He has committed himself to this, but to be caught is to condemn himself red-handed to the stake– a fate he’d rather avoid. 
As he leans, his teeth gliding gently across delicate, slightly dampened skin, he believes it worth the risk. 
The tang of sweat and flesh hits his taste buds as he softly glides his tongue across the pulse-point of your throat. He licks where he intends to find his feast, savoring the flavor of his intended prey. Many times he had caught himself staring, wondering what it might be like; what you might be like, and he fully intends to satiate the curiosity that had been building in his brain for weeks on end.
As he indulges himself in the thought, he finds he can no longer wait. He tells himself he cannot stall– cannot draw this out as he might’ve liked to– but the nagging churning in his gut rings above all else. He is starved and he must sate it. He does not join in the argument between the two warring forces in his mind, and instead resorts to pure instinct to settle the matter. 
His fangs dimple tender flesh at first, and then, soft as a whisper, sink inside. Lifeblood floods his mouth like a symphony of rapture, the taste of ecstasy on his tongue, and his lips clamp like a viper on your throat, eager and yearning for more. It is as liquid fire as it slides down his throat, your soft whimpering spurring in tandem with the  glory that branches through his every quivering limb and sets his mind alight. His eyes, vigilant at first, now flutter shut, allowing himself to fall into the velvet-cloaked abyss.
The thousand-year fog lifts from his brain as he drinks and for the first time since breath still filled his lungs, he feels right. 
Raw strength almost seems to inflate his lean muscle, plucking a harpsichord on his tendons. The pounding drum of your rabbiting heart beneath your ribs plays in tandem with the rush of blood in his ears. The deafening cacophony of the cold, miserable years is blasted away and finally stitches together in unison with an ethereal orchestra of utter intoxication. A preternaturally beautiful song that lulls him into the first sense of peace he has felt in years– perhaps that he has ever felt. A tune he shall never forget for as long as he lives.
His senses soar so high that he swears, beneath the deafening chorus of euphoria, he can hear the revelry as far as Baldur’s Gate. In his mind’s eye, the unsuspecting citizens of the Jewel are celebrating the birth of a new man born under the silvery spears of moonlight miles away. These many long years, he has been truly dead, and only now, he is resurrected in the swaddling shroud of blood and dark. He has been truly reborn. At one with himself at last, he thinks. At one with you. 
The blood falls easily down his throat, pooling warmly in his gut in glorious fulfillment. The delirium tendrils outward, gently coaxing bliss and promise where it caresses. His legs buckle, pale cheeks hot and flushed, some unknown sensation taking hold like a fist as he suckles and refusing to relinquish the iron grip. The low of his abdomen tingles, drawing in life like a vacuum to a place once desolate and lifeless. 
It is a feeling he cannot place at first. Something dusted and forgotten and placed far and away in his mind, out of reach. And yet, as the delectable warmth floods every inch of his body anew, he experiences it as plainly as when his heart still beat in his chest and youth was as inevitable as the rising sun. The needle-thin hairs of his body stand on end, palms beginning to sweat against your shoulder. A primal need swells in his stomach, a gentle throbbing between his thighs that translates into pain as he strains against the leather of his breeches. 
Arousal. 
Desire bleeds into itself, separate colors swirling together to become one enthralling splash on the rapacious canvas of his brain. The scalding hot bliss of the feed and the tiny, breathy mewls of your still-sleeping form. You have given him what he so desperately coveted, and now, it seems, his nature demands he take more– everything you hold dear in its entirety offered up at the altar of his superior strength and cunning and existence. 
The inherent eroticism of feeding is not lost on him, but it has never held any meaning until this moment. Lust is a cruel stranger that he has opted to spurn. Something wielded against him as a weapon– a barbed whip that has flogged and scarred him into conditioned disgust. It is unfamiliar at first, and yet it screams now with the same familiarity as every other function and twice as demanding. 
Pale lashes flutter open, doubled vision focusing in almost too sharply on your strained features: the soft furrow of your brow, the scrunch of your still-closed eyes, the soft pout of your petal-pink lips, slick with moisture from your unconscious whines of pain. He has noticed you, yes, in the way another might notice a dagger or a halberd or a stocky shield to wield. Your appearance is just one in a long line of defenses he intended to harvest for his own gain, and yet now, as he hazily stares at the shadow of your profile that flickers in the flames, he feels the unmistakable curl and coil of a different kind of need. 
Something steely clamps onto his consciousness beyond the haze of unreason. He cannot. That is too far, and something distant and shrill in his mind knows it. As desperate as he is to crawl atop and mount you, leaving you breathless and hoarse in his wake, he cannot. Some things can never be forgiven, and he has already crossed that line for his own well-being. Ravaging you as you lie vulnerable and helpless– trusting– serves no purpose in keeping him alive.
He tells himself this, his suckling receding to a temperate drawl, laving tongue and teeth across the puncture wounds. The baser parts of him cry protest, the pulsing becoming more insistent with each passing second, until it leaves him knock-kneed and clutching at the grass for purchase against the cresting tide of want. All variety of debased scenarios fly through his mind, each one more debauched than the last. 
Control and lust, two things unfamiliar with each other before now due to the cruel nature of his existence, fold in perfectly as one and sharpen into a vengeful blade he craves to use. How he longs to leave a wound as deep as the one he carries day after day, unrelenting and open as the day it was wrought. He wants to lash out, to strike, to take as he pleases as the world has taken so from him–
A wound not meant for you, he must remind himself through the hot-pink haze, even as it defies him. 
No. It is a line he will not cross. He is a monster, but he is a monster of a different breed. You have given him everything, even as you do not know it. More pragmatically, he will not give his life for one brief, violent encounter of forcefully obliged desire. He is worth more than such vile things, he tells himself, and strangely, he finds as he ponders it, so too are you. 
He repeats it in his head as a mantra, over and over, practically yelling it over the tidal wave of instinctual impulse that threatens to drag him undertow. He is his own man, and he shall not be controlled ever again; not by Cazador, and certainly not by the more wretched pieces of himself, even as they screech and claw at the cell where he has locked them away, howling their dreadful, unspeakable demands.
It does not abate. The insistent pulse of blood that brings long forgotten life to his appetite, the mortifyingly genuine urge that begs him to touch you, feel you, taste you in the ways he has not craved in eons. It frightens him, and yet, even as he longs to pull himself away, to run and run and run into the darkness where neither you nor this horrible need can find him, he does not. He sits still as a marble statue, almost as if carved in some grotesque form of this heinous moment captured in one rotten, eternal exhibit: half atop your sleeping body, clutching and panting in need, and half splayed absurdly in the dirt, straining and desperately trying to conceal his shame from some invisible force that mocks him.
He cannot have you. Even as he yearns and craves it with a fire that singes and burns his overactive nerves and imagination, he cannot. Yet, his body will not relent, demanding release from the torment that plagues both his mind and his nethers in equal form, paralyzing him in a dangerous inactivity. You won’t awaken– he has taken too much and your weakness is apparent– but the others might and he must act. Compromise is a risk he cannot take–
And still he must. 
And so, even as he should withdraw and return to the pitiful, empty loneliness of his tent, he does not. Instead, he realigns himself, as quiet and swift as the wind, still half-perched over you, but with a newly freed hand to his disposal for a contemptible purpose. It snakes the length of his torso to the waist of his breeches, his dexterous fingers undoing the laces with desperate speed and agility, his expression equal parts humiliation, shame, and anxious desire. He slides the waistband down enough that his long-neglected cock springs free, his muscles bracing and tensed as his newly blood-warmed flesh is chilled in the cool night air. Pinprick pores betray his discomfort at the crisp evening gale, but the rest of himself is otherwise occupied, consumed by his present task. 
One of his sharply tipped fangs worries at the swell of his plush lower lip as he wiggles his pants further down, both internally cursing and praising the newly unlocked spectrum of his vampiric grace that make such conspicuous actions effortless and reticent. Even as he is agile and practiced, each urgent movement feels fluid and natural. Silent as the grave and insignificant against the sounds of nature that envelop their surroundings. He does not fumble or falter, smooth as satin and with steely resolve as his palm finds his shaft and a shiver runs the length of his spine, settling readily in his abdomen.
In his previous encounters, he could put himself into working order, but nothing like this. It was a job– something that must be done, no matter how distasteful or degrading. What he feels now, it’s almost foreign to him; his cock strangely hot and pulsing with a heartbeat of its own. Heavy as sin in his hand and just as demanding, just as cruel in its insistence. Stiff and throbbing, a compass point dogged and unrelenting as it seeks to nestle between your wet, silky thighs and burrow there. It shrieks in his head, unsatisfied and wailing at his refusal to acquiesce. 
He ignores it, testing with one brusque stroke with his palm. It twitches, pleasure blooming upward through his gut even at the slightest of contact. Again, he tightens his fingers around his girth, pumping slowly as the sepulcher where he had locked away all dead semblance of lustful craving and fervor comes to life once more. As he thumbs the top, he feels the thin, sticky fluid leak from the tip, betraying his eagerness even as he pretends composure– as much composure as he can pretend in this unbelievably humiliating debacle. 
He will have to worry about that later. 
His eyes sweep over your face once more, peaceful now that his teeth no longer injure your tender neck. Your lips slightly agape, eyelashes fluttering softly as you sweetly dream once more. He imagines how different it might look if he were to uncage his urges– to allow himself the forbidden pleasure of sinking himself inside of you twice in one night. How your eyes might fly open in horror, your lips ready to shriek, little fists balled in defense, only to gasp as he pushes his length between your splayed thighs, enveloping himself in your tight, wet heat. White-hot. Exquisite. Immaculate.
The companions are gone– no, they don’t exist. It is only you and him now, you sprawled beneath him, half shock and half horror, and he– the predator that has stalked you from the shadows, the vampire in the night– taking as he pleases, as is his right. He feels your velvet walls flutter around him, trying to adjust to the cruel new thickness bullying inside them, squeezing him in the most delicious way. Your mouth is still open in a wordless cry as he plunges his tongue between your teeth, tasting a different part of you now, swallowing the desperate sounds you begin to make. 
His cock throbs against the calloused flesh of his palm as he strokes himself, teeth gritting to quiet the noise that bubbles in his throat from the blossoming pleasure that takes root and begins to grow rapidly out of control. The fantasy plays in perfect form in his head, and it almost feels real as he gathers the precum in the crook of his thumb and slicks it over the shaft with firm fingers, pretending it’s your body that wets and grips him.
You would fight and struggle– he knows you would– but you are nothing in the face of his sheer strength and dominance. Pinned by the deceptively strong muscle of his lean body, you have no choice but to follow his lead, thighs forced wider to accommodate his narrow hips, back pressed firmly against the ground by his weight. Your tits, warm and soft beneath the thin fabric of your nightshirt and begging to be squeezed, squashed against him with the frantic rise and fall of your chest.
The squeal his first thrust would rip from you would be heavenly. High-pitched and pathetic, and yet almost drowned out by the equally sweet clench of your body around his. So tight that it almost aches him, unaccustomed to the intrusion and compelled to yield to him, moulding itself to the shape of him inside of you. He slides out slow, almost callous and so terribly casual in his malice, making you feel every inch of him drag against the supple walls of your cunt before slamming in again, vicious in his impact. Your body jumps beneath him from the force, whining into his mouth. Your blunt nails digging into his arms and tearing at his frigid, stone flesh. It is futile– he can barely even feel it, and the slight sting he can is laced with pleasure and the reminder that you are at his mercy now.
He is panting, breath coming in ragged staccato bursts even as it is unnecessary to him. Pure instinct has a hold of him now, his hand working in unfailing rhythm between his thighs as he loses himself in the vision. Your injury weeps ever so slightly, and he cannot help the flick of his tongue along the twin-pocked bitemarks, leaving a thinly shining trail of blood-streaked saliva in his wake. He aches to touch you; to slip the delicate sleeve of your nightwear down and indulge himself in the softness of your body. 
He is not so subtle in his mind. He simply tears the garment, ripping it from your body with terrible ease. One hand busies itself with containing yours above your head, squeezing at the wrist to keep you captive even as you thrash, the other luckier still as it gropes and pinches your breast. Warm in his hand, he can feel your pulse skyrocketing in fear or perhaps excitement– whichever suits him most– as he reels back and cants his hips forward again. 
His hips slap against your thighs with bruising strength, your body beginning to respond to his in kind. He feels your wetness slick over his cock and lubricate his next few thrusts, heightening his pleasure. You mewl against his tongue, body arching into his, perhaps against your own will, fingers flexing and furling fruitlessly in his grasp. He settles into rhythm, cruel but precise, hips grinding with every punctuating impetus. It takes an absurd amount of mental discipline not to simply take you in furious, animalistic fashion as he longs, but he manages through the impulse, lower body moving in circular rhythm, his pelvic bone stimulating you with each contact. 
Your panicked breaths become heaving pants, flittering eyes glazing over and becoming heavy, the muscles that are pulled so tautly in defense waver and eventually flop, accepting your defeat at his hands. Perhaps you are betrayed and hurt and hateful, but you desire him. He is beautiful in the moonlight, pale as a ghost but alive and burning with unhinged need and that same fire kindles between your legs and winds and winds tighter like a top before the spin. He releases your swollen, puffy lips only for his fangs to find your throat and your cry is desperate and howling, your blood sweeter than the finest wine as it touches his tongue. 
You cannot formulate words– neither of encouragement nor protest– as he fucks you relentlessly into the ground, helping himself to your body and your blood. Only nasally, frantic cries can make it past your throat, your hands grasping at him, pleading and desperate. He hooks your thigh around his waist, fingers digging into the flesh with bruising strength, and you clamp it there, almost as if clinging to him for purchase as he bucks and snaps, snarling like a beast perched to pounce.
You are helpless and small and defenseless and vulnerable in the face of him, and he is strong and virile and predatory and fearsome. He has no need of your protection; he is the ruthless power of the night and the fear the lurks in the dark. He ravages you with no regard to the future, knowing only that he holds it in his palm, and if he wants you, he shall take you. He does not walk in shadow and skulk in fear, but boldly in the open, the world and you ripe for the plucking. 
He cannot help it. His hand is not enough. Ecstasy builds in his apex, building and bubbling at his fantasy, but he needs to feel. The hand not currently stroking himself in frantic need finds a way under the loose opening of your shirt, defying his mental mantra. The curve of your breast coaxes his skin, swelling and warm against his flesh as his insubordinate fingers find their way lower and lower under your blouse. Your nipple peaks as he gently rolls it in his careful, ghostlike fingertips, squeezing at your chest with an inhuman tenderness that only has him craving harder, more– 
Your cries would come in unison with his own, yours wailing and pathetic and squealing, and his rugged and husky and snarling. You would bare yourself to him– all of you– acquiescing to his unrelenting power. He would take you there, on the ground like an animal how he pleased and for as long as he pleased. Now you are the clay for him to shape and play with and use as he pleases, existing only for him and his wants. Your blood is in no short supply, and he sups and dines as he pleases while he uses your body to pleasure his cock and the baser parts of himself that have reignited inside of your core. You are powerless to fight him, so you give yourself over completely to him, debasing yourself for him, crawling for him, needing him. 
You’d beg for him, body and soul, so eager and ready. Desperate and pathetic. He’d fuck you until your whines became higher and higher, eventually spilling into the night in humiliating urgency as you came undone beneath him. Your legs quivering and shaking, senses gone and inhibition nonexistent. Your fluttering walls would tighten and squeeze and damn near strangle him, the absurd sound of your wetness utterly mortifying if you had your wits about you, but music to his ears. 
Harder and faster with no regard for your overstimulated crooning, he’d take you, working himself to his peak, almost rabid in his unhinged, disjointed movements. His rhythm would fail, becoming more convulsive and urgent with every plunge of his hips. He’d chase his end inside of you, the blissful heat of your body, the cadence of your moans, and snug, velveteen swaddling of your sopping cunt the closest taste of the divines he’ll ever have– that he’ll ever want. 
He’d cum inside of you, burying himself so deep that he’d be certain you could taste it. It would spill out of you as he milked himself to completion with your pliant body, heaving against your bloody neck, a hand in your hair to rip your head back and drag down against him. Bruised inside and out in the shape of him, his hands, his teeth, his cock all leaving their permanent mark. It won’t heal, it won’t ever heal, he’ll make sure of it–
It’s his– it’s his– it’s all for him and no one else. Not even the Gods could wrestle this away from him. There isn’t a force in the planes that could pry him from atop you– you belong to him, your body, your mind, your tongue, your taste, your cunt–
His cock throbs furiously in his hand, gritted pants and strangled noises escaping his throat. It is only through sheer supernatural ability that he is able to withdraw his hand from your shirt and catch himself before he slumps completely atop you, no doubt waking you with the force of it. The ecstasy spills over, unfettered bliss exploding outward from his core and sparking fire throughout every inch of his body. His eyes roll backward, head slooping forward as he works his pulsing cock, every last ounce of self-control in his ancient body holding back a howling cry. 
He spills into his palm, carelessly covering his shaft in the sticky, gossamer fluid as he milks clean the very last remnants of pleasure from himself with the fervor of a man starved of it. His toes curl in his shoes, teeth gritting to the point of pain as he withholds a sigh of euphoria. His extremities tingle as his body sags, muscles exhausted and screaming from the exertion, and he almost collapses as it fades from him as quickly as it approached, still singing beautiful contentment somewhere deep inside of him.
Sagging completely into the dirt, he lies there, bare and open to the sky: Hand defiled and dripping with the seed of his shame, sweat wetting the delicate white curls behind his ears, breeches pulled cleanly to his akimbo knees. It takes a moment for the world to settle into his foggy brain once more, but shame cuts as cleanly as a knife as the clouds of desire split and the light of reality once again illuminates the situation. 
Frantic fear takes hold of his stomach, and his head swivels towards where you sleep, calmed only by the fact that you still sleep soundly with no inkling or inclination as to what he has just done. As he glances around, the rest of the camp is equally unaware, each person neatly in their place, unmoving and unalert. His secret is his and no one elses.
He allows himself a few moments to catch the breath he does not need, wiping the evidence of the encounter into the grass with a sense of disgust and indignity as he does. He feels remarkable– alive for the first time in centuries– and yet it is marred by the yoke of scandal he feels having been bested by such an absurd thing. Overwhelming desire he has not felt since he was a young, handsome elf brimming with potential and swarming with suitors, back when his chest still beat with blood and his skin was flushed and warm rather than pale and pallor. 
It’s unfamiliar to him, and he bares his teeth at the thought. Sex is something filthy and cursed– and yet it didn’t feel so in the moment. Even now, his fingertips tingle at the thought of your puckered peak gently caressed, the soft sound of your sighs, the vulnerability you show him. He’d barely touched you and yet you sent his senses alight like a bonfire. The taste of you still lingers on his tongue, and he cannot help but savor it. As he hikes the band of his pants back up his hips, he feels shame, yes, but also something different. Something oceans away from the helpless misery he usually feels after the degrading act. 
He feels at peace. He feels satisfaction. He feels right. He does not feel debased, but empowered– almost giggly as a schoolboy at the wrongness of it all.
He chose this. For the first time he can remember, he chose this. He took control and his pleasure did not come at his own expense. It came at yours, yes, but he doesn’t like to make a habit of grappling with fragile, banal things such as morality. He is a libertine, and where he finds pleasure, he shall take it, because he knows all too well what it is to be starved of it and all that makes life worth living. 
Besides, you seem fine. Sleeping deep as a babe in the cradle, none the wiser. As he sits right and dabs potion at the wounds at your neck so as to not leave a trace of his crime, he allows himself one quiet, satisfied sigh. It disconcerts him that as he studies your slumbering body and slack face, he feels pinpricks in his core once again, whispering remnants of that desire that had unhinged him so before, but he will have to unpack that later. 
He is no fool. Something has changed, and it isn’t the strength that flows through him free as a fountain that was once clogged and stunted, nor the heightened attunement of his mind to damn near everything around him to the point of absurdity. He feels right for the first time with the blood he has stolen away with, and smug at getting away with something so risky as he often does, but more than that. 
He is a vampire fully satisfied in more ways than one, and the fulfillment and delight he feels overrides the shame and wrestles it into the quiet. 
You are something to him, though he isn’t sure what. He had not questioned why he’d picked you before, but the question begs itself now. He does not allow himself the indulgence of touching you once more. He doesn’t taste you or feel your skin. He only withdraws as silently as he came, backing off and away from the light of the fire that burns low, dying embers spitting against charred, ashen logs, his shadow stretching long before disappearing into the dark of the night. 
As he moves back to his tent, he stalks the shadows, but he does so with head held high, back straight as a bow, graceful and the very picture of pride. There’s an unmistakable grin on his reddened lips and a flush to his face not wholly attributed to the blood that now courses through him. Pieces of himself unlocked after so many years of servitude. He feels himself again, and the world feels his oyster once more. What your role is in that world, he doesn’t know yet. 
But he has a feeling he’ll figure it out soon enough.
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earth4angels · 4 months ago
Text
𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐲
𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
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𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: when she saw him, she was only twelve with a bag of bread crumbs for her birds in the park. she thought he was beautiful and funny, he saw the world differently and there was never a moment he didn’t show her the beauty of it , she just didn’t think just how much pain he held inside.
𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: character death, blood, bullying, mentions of murder, gun violence, depression, hurt & comfort. childhood friends to lovers (kinda). miscommunications.
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You first met Oliver Hide on a spring day, which ended up being a gloomy day. You did not mind, you loved to take walks after school to feed the birds at the park. It was always quiet, chirping and the low sounds of the wind was all you heard so when you found a boy around your age with his knees pressed against his chest, you stopped.
To question was wrong, but you couldn’t help to wonder why was he so sad? Why was he crying? You figured it was best to leave him be, your parents taught you to never meddle into anything that didn’t concern you. This was also a stranger.
As you backtracked, the leaves announced your departure. You winced when you saw the stranger’s head snap up from the bundle of sadness to look directly at you.
You offered a small smile filled with embarrassment, “I’m sorry.”
The stranger sniffed, wiping his eyes fast before he got up. His voice groggy, raspy from the crying he had released. “Ts’ alright…”
You opened your mouth and closed it again. You shouldn’t, you really should go home and get home before dinner but you just didn’t like the way this boy’s face was filled with so much anguish. The look did not fit him.
To hell with it.
You bit your lip before you spoke, “Are you… are you okay?”
He paused from grabbing his backpack, his eyes shaking. You saw the mental battle he was going through, the way he swallowed, or how his hands began to fiddle.
You knew better than to meddle into things that did not concern you. Mentally you slapped yourself, “I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t-“
His hand went up to stop you, “No! No it’s okay. Thank you.”
Your eyes met his again, and for some reason your heart broke at the sight of him. His eyes were blood shot, his nose red by the constant rubbing. You felt the need to hug him, to give him your comfort bunny that helped you when you felt sad.
“Do you.. do you know what helps me?”
He sniffed, the sleeve of his sweater wet yet he cleaned his runny nose. Timidly, he shook his head so slightly you almost missed it.
“Henry. My plush bunny. My mom gave me him when I broke my arm from doing cart wheels. I cried a lot but when I held him. I felt better.”
The stranger smiled with secrets you wanted to know. “That’s nice.”
You nodded with enthusiasm, you saw the way the sadness began to leave his face. So you took steps closer to him, extending your hand out with a smile on your face. You had succeeded in making his smile look more alive.
“I’m y/n! What’s your name?”
He was taller than you, his hair was nicely combed to the side with slight curls at the tips. His eyes were very pretty and you knew then, it looked better when it was filled with happiness. His hand met yours in an warm embrace, your palm smaller and warmer than his cold, bigger hand.
“Oliver. But, you can call me Ollie,” he spoke with a smile, a genuine smile that made him blush with the longer he held your hand.
You continued to smile, matching his. With your hand in his, and the sun peeking out the clouds, you felt a friendship bloom.
At the age of 12, you befriended a broken boy, who often climbed into your window to lay in your bed and whisper why he was so afraid of being alone. You made a promise one night as both of you laid side to side, watching the glowing stars you had pasted on your ceiling.
“For as long as I am alive, I will always be your friend Ollie.”
Ollie held your hand that night and with a shaky breath he pressed a kiss on the front of your hand. “Do you promise?”
You faced him, flicking his forehead, you giggled when he whined softly, “I pinky and double promise. Crossing my heart if I die, I will never leave you Ollie. I promise.”
From then, the friendship grew. Every day was a new adventure, and having you by his side made Ollie happier. He did not think so much about the problems at home or how his parents constantly neglected him. He was just glad he had you, the most prettiest girl with a bright smile and words that filled his heart with warmth. Every day, was another reason piled in his list to why it was so easy to love you.
Ollie Hide, was in love with you. And he never knew just how much you loved him. The feelings of rejection and a possible outcome where it can ruin an already beautiful friendship was all they could think of. The feelings stayed bottled inside as though every touch and every bonding experience only intensified the feelings felt deep within.
One night, as you guys finally had a sleepover, now both in freshman year of high school — you broke a news that hurt him completely. Your father had been given the opportunity to work abroad, meaning you had to leave for an year or two. That meant, leaving Ollie who was suffering yet again in quiet.
As you broke the news to him, you watched as he began to tear up. He was never afraid to cry in front of you, and you never belittled him, he was important and he made you feel comfort more than anything in the world.
“Whe-When?” he whispered, his heart felt as it stopped beating. He wished then, that when they had done surgery on his heart they made the option of feeling anything go away. His heart began to throb in such an agonizing way, he began to breathe heavily.
You wrapped your arms around him, never letting him go. That night as you cried into each others arms, you made another promise. One that was going to haunt you forever.
“Hey doofus,” you said sadly. Your heart breaking when he sniffled yet he hummed, acknowledging you. “Promise you will never forget me.”
Ollie pulled away, his tears running his pale cheeks, “How can I?”
You placed a hand on his cheek. Perhaps both of you were too young to understand how the universe worked but you knew your heart best, and down beneath all the doubt, you knew that it will always belong to Ollie.
Ollie leaned towards your palm, his eyes watching you. At 14, both of you felt the first heartbreak. And two days later, as he watched your parents drive you away from him, he cried like never before. The one thing that held him strong, and stopped all the thoughts in his head that called him useless, unwanted, a disgrace.
Ollie Hide, began to change. He lied in every text message he sent you, every video he sent you, he lied. He told you how sophomore year was amazing, and how many friends he had. He never once told you how they mocked him, the loner boy. The daddy’s boy from a weird dad.
He never once told you how he cried every night, and when he ended up in the hospital again due to stress. Rash, who noticed the symptoms, begged his father to check him in with a therapist. Ollie was silently begging to be seen again. His light was gone, you weren’t there to hold him, to distract him with your non stop rambles how the stars had a story.
You never doubted him. You never asked questions because you trusted him. He would never lie. However, Ollie from the good of his heart did not want to burden you. So he continued to lie, even when social media came for him and made him into a joke, he filmed videos of himself with a smile on his face.
You never doubted anything. But, Ollie… was not himself anymore. The longer the days went, the more his mental health declined. Rosa was gone, and it was as if every important person kept leaving him. His father deep lost in his work to avoid the issues at home never questioned him.
On the summer before Junior year, you had come back. You ran to his house and what you saw made you stop dead in your tracks. Ollie had grown out his hair, and what was his neutral, warm colored clothes, was now all in dark. His eyes had lost the shine, the spark that you had fallen for. In his eyes, he was dead, the eyebags were visible.
“Ollie?” you whispered, unsure.
He turned around slowly, refusing to believe you were there. There you stood, in your hands held a gift for him and you were beautiful. His eyes scanned you, his heart beating fast.
“Y/n?” Ollie questioned, his steps stumbling towards you before he ran towards you where he wrapped you into his arms. You began to sob as you tighten your hands around him.
“I’ve missed you.”
You laughed as tears rolled down your cheeks, “I have missed you doofus!”
“Yo! Ollie! Come on.”
You raised your head from his chest, noticing a boy standing a couple feet away. This boy gave your heart a tug, like a piercing sharp pain gutted you. He raised all the flags in your head.
Ollie swallowed, letting you go, he slightly smiled. You knew better, this smile was fake.
“I’ve gotta go, I’ll see you later?” Ollie asked, he was walking backwards, his eyes avoided yours now. You began to question his behavior, his appearance, where was the Ollie from a year and a half go?
You only nodded, your throat constricting. He left, his steps stomping on your confused heart. Something was wrong and you did not know what it was. Yet, you knew if there was something, Ollie would tell you. He never lied to you.
The summer ended, and you hardly saw him. There was always a different excuse, but you knew. Rob was always in the picture, and whatever he did, murdered the kind, pure heart your bestfriend carried.
“I don’t know why you can’t see it Ollie!” you screamed at him one afternoon after school. You only watched Ollie as he bit into his nail, his hand rubbing his neck in anxiety.
“See what? I don’t understand…” he spoke softly, igniting the fire you held inside. You were angry over the fact your bestfriend was changing and he himself could not see it.
You sighed annoyed, and you began to laugh in disbelief, “How?! How can you not see what’s going on?! You haven’t spoken to me all summer! You barely even acknowledge me!”
Ollie bit the inner skin of his cheek, his heart breaking. He couldn’t harm you, he couldn’t make you a target. He did not want the bullying to get to you just because you were his friend. You did not deserve that. You deserved more. You were more important than his needs. He needed you. He needed to tell you, to yell how much he loved you. How every letter, every photo you guys together he kept in a box where he could go through every night before bed and wonder what could be.
He did what he knew best, avoided the situation. “You know nothing Y/n. Please go home.”
You scoffed, shaking your head, disappointed, hurt and sadness swallowing your heart, you stepped away from him.
“You promised Ollie,” you reminded him. A tear finally slipping out your socket.
He looked down, he bounced on his feet, the anxiety eating him. He never once made eye contact, knowing that if he did, he would never let go.
“I’m keeping a promise,” he muttered, “So please, leave me alone.”
He turned and walked inside, leaving you outside with your second heartbreak and occuring non stop questions. Inside, Ollie slid down towards the floor, he began to sob. He was going to protect you with all he could. That was the promise he made to himself.
You never found out about the bullying Ollie suffered, and it was a shock. But, it also didn’t help that you avoided the shadowed boy. You stuck to yourself, ears plugged in as music blasted through them.
On a cloudy day, you went to your class. Natalia, who was a friend you met through Ollie two years ago, laughed about something funny she saw on a tv show. You feigned a laugh, your eyes scanning for a certain boy. Enough was enough.
You were going to snap some sense into Ollie, whether he liked it or not, but you were not going to lose him. As you settled in class, you forgot about Ollie, immersed into the debate your classmates were going through.
You pulled out your phone and sneakily, sent a message to the one that held your heart.
I am not letting go Ollie. Meet me after school by the treehouse.
As you and Ollie built your friendship, you built new places to hang out, and that included an abandoned tree house you found one day as you walked through the woods. Ollie, being the kindest boy offered to check it out first. Since then, the treehouse was your secret hide out.
You never received a response. You knew he had gotten it though and so you hoped, this was going to change his way of acting. Class was peaceful, of course not without Jack making loud comments about the lesson that had your teacher rolling her eyes every two seconds.
As you giggled over the comment your teacher said you heard a loud bang. Loud bangings. You jumped, your classmates became silent then. You couldn’t hear anything then. Until, yelling and scared chatters hit your ears. Something was happening.
Your teacher smiled as she kept the peace, “Alright guys, it’s probably nothing, stay here. Let me check it out.”
A ping had arrived to your phone then and as you pulled your phone to check the notification, you heard the sounds of glass shattering. You turned to look at Natalia who held the same expression you held — fear. This was a shooting.
Your teacher acted fast, she moved in a way you never seen her act before. She commanded the class to move underneath the desks, away from the windows that overlooked into the classroom. She shut the windows closed and had every single one of you quiet down.
You held onto Natalia’s hand, the fear reaching your ears as you began to hear the thumps of your heart. What felt like an eternity, you begged to be given a chance to see your family again, you did not want to die and not be given a opportunity to declare how much you loved Ollie Hide. You needed to tell him.
“We can run outside!” Jack whispered, panicked that no one was coming for them. Your teacher leaned against the door, watching over you all, her eyes trembling yet she never faltered.
“You stay there Jack! All of you!”
Jack began to mutter in fear, another round of bullets was heard. You began to go into a state of panic, your brain was beginning to go into a daze. Natalia hugged you, as she whispered something you did not understand.
All you could think of was Ollie. Was he okay? Did he make it outside? Did he survive? Is he hiding? As your brain wondered. Jack and your classmates ran outside, all of them swallowed by the fear of dying if they stayed in the classroom. Your teacher shouted, her voice was ignored.
“Stay here girls, please don’t leave until someone comes to get you. Promise me?”
“Don’t go!” Natalia shouted, “You can be killed!”
Your teacher who you admired, and you found to have been the kindest to help you out when you needed it, smiled. A tear slipped her eye, “I have to try and save as much as I can — stay here okay? I’ll be back, I promise.”
It was as if, promises were meant to break.
As you and Natalia hid underneath the piles of chairs and desks, you heard screams closer than usual and multiple shots. You knew better than to be hopeful. Your classmates, ones you were joking with earlier that day, some of them were never going to graduate high school. They will never be parents, or have a dream come true, they will never ever know the pain of loss, or the feeling of loving someone so hard they forget the world spins. They will never have a chance to live.
You released a shaky breath as you held onto your friend. Your brain going over a prayer. If you make it out alive you were going to punch Ollie in the face and kiss him. You will make every moment worth it.
As you say there, you heard the door open. You closed your eyes, leaning your head towards Natalia. If you were going to die, you will die recalling a memory you treasured the most.
“Ollie?” you whispered one night, your voice quiet as both of you hid under the house you built out of blankets. At a distance you heard David arguing with Rosa again.
Ollie swallowed, his breath coming out in shaky wisps.
“Yeah?”
“When we’re older, promise we will still be friends?”
Ollie smiled into the shadows of the dark, he pulled you close, his skinny hand ruffling your hair as he released a sad chuckle, “You will never get rid of me.”
When you heard nothing but the gasp of your friend, you opened your eyes. You recalled that promise, your heart breaking in tiny pieces as you faced the barrel of the gun. Your eyes met with a certain pair that never failed to make you feel flutters in your stomach.
As Ollie, your best friend, your first love, held the gun with tears in his eyes, you released the first sound since the first gun shot. A loud sob.
Ollie looked at you and then at Natalia. You were sobbing now, your hands covering your mouth as you took him in. Your funny, bright bestfriend who joked about the smallest things, and looked after everyone than himself.
The gun didn’t fit him, he wasn’t the shooter. You refused to believe that. Ollie squeezed his eyes and when he reopened them, he looked different. You did not know who he was.
“Clear?!” Rob screamed from across the hall. Ollie said nothing before he shouted back.
“Clear!”
You scrambled to reach him, Natalia held you back. Ollie looked back at you, his eyes dark, lost. He was warning you to stay back. You choked on a sob again as you watched him go, his white sneakers filled with blood. You catched a glimpse at Rob, covered in blood, who said something and left to go the opposite direction.
You refused Natalia’s hold, “I have to get him! It can’t be him Nat…”
“You’re gonna be killed if you go y/n! You can’t go.”
You cried, “I have to try, that’s my bestfriend Nat… I can’t loose him.”
Your feet moved on its own as you ran down the hall towards the staircase, your mind blocking the scattered bodies of your classmates, you refused to believe it was real. It was a dream, you kept repeating.
Your feet hurt as you ran, but you needed to save him. You needed to get to Ollie. As soon as your feet crossed the door to the staircase you heard sobbing, mutters that were in gibberish. You had found him.
“Ollie…” you whispered.
Ollie gasped as he stood up. He began to shake his head, his muttering becoming more unstable, you could not understand him. You stepped closer as he put out a hand, his other hand loosely held onto the shotgun.
“Please… Please save me.”
You cried as you stepped closer, another step closer to reaching him.
“Take it Y/n… please. I can’t…. I don’t… I’m scared. I can’t die…”
Ollie finally looked at you, his eyes filled to the brim with tears, your heart broke once again. Your bestfriend, your first love, lost in his pain.
“Give me the gun Ollie…”
As he was handing you the gun, you heard the rushed steps of feet running up the stairs. The fear you held began to boil again. Finding yourself locking eyes with Rob, who held nothing but anger in his eyes, you didn’t realize the panic Ollie’s eyes went through.
Rob wasted no time but to shoot, and you were too late to run behind the door. The bullet shot through your lower stomach. At first you felt as you fell into a large comforter, and then you saw a flash of white. What you felt next was something that left you wheezing in non stop pain, the bullet has implanted itself in you. Your life was slipping and you just felt regret.
You recalled every promise you made with Ollie. The moments you had with your parents, and your friends. The laughter you shared with them, the cries you gave even if it was over a silly thing. All these memories and emotions flew through, and as you laid on the floor, wheezing through the pain, your heart slowing down one beat at a time. Your hand reached over to Ollie’s. You couldn’t find him, just how you couldn’t find the pain he was going through.
Ollie fought with Rob, and he almost won, if it wasn’t for the rail that threw him over the staircase. He just had one thought, what could have been if only he spoke with honesty of what he was feeling.
As both of you laid in different parts, the life slipping away from your fingers. Your heart’s beated slowly together, as if it was reuniting one last time. And for a moment it did, because the moment you allowed the white cloud wrap around you, Ollie smiled as he felt the warmth of your laugh wrap around him.
The two teenagers were rushed to the hospital, Natalia cried as she ran with you both. She was not going to reveal what had happened. She couldn’t, she knew and believed Ollie was not evil but she also couldn’t hurt you.
As nurses and doctors rushed to work in bringing your hearts back to life, the teenagers that laid in different rooms felt the soul bond loosened. The nurses spoke in sadness how the hands laid loosely over the bed, as if they searched for each other.
As Rash, the doctor that bonded with Ollie more than anyone, worked on a CPR on Ollie, he watched with tears in his eyes how neither of you responded. The dead line on the screen mocking him. And finally, after minutes, the line curved slightly.
The doctors that worked with you, all screamed in relief as you also responded back to life. Rash knew, just as with how Ollie talked of you, both of you were soulmates. He knew that nothing, not even death was going to rip both of you apart.
You had gained another chance at life, and you knew you were going to make every second of it count.
Natalia who watched as one came to live, then the other, sobbed loudly. Her mother wrapped her into her arms. Natalia had decided then, she was never going to reveal Ollie as the one shooter and as another classmate that survived was alive and responding, he recalled of the horrors that happened.
He spoke of the shooters, how he saw one shoot through his friends with no remorse screaming how they deserved it, and the other, the quiet boy who shoved the extra bullets into his pockets and shot through the walls instead. His eyes blinking away the tears that fell.
As the sun peeked through the windows, a chance to recover the lost time. To fix what was broken, was edging you awake. You woke up groggy, moaning that the sun was too bright. As you rolled over you found the mop of curly hair by your side.
You got up confused, till you realized it was a dream you had. You believed in the signs, warnings, how the universe will warn you of these butterfly effects. Since you had come back to town, you noticed the changes that your best friend has been going through.
You knew then, what could happen, whether it’s death or not, be prevented. As you reached over and laid a hand on the pale cheek of your bestfriend who softly snored away, you made a new promise.
“I will guard you with my life, and I promise to show you life is worth living.”
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ollie nation tag list: @hxtd @mckennah123 @cieraerickson8 @oroborosfeast
natties angels permanent list: @yohanseyebrowmole @mthrgs29
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