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fleurhcss · 6 months

Note

Channie being a proper dom like really intimidating n stuff- when you first signed a contract w him you kind of just misjudged him as more of a sweet guy

That's sound so interesting so I'm taking this request very happily 🤍🤍 let's make this as a sort of fifty shades 🥰🎀

༉‧₊˚🕯️🖤❀༉‧₊˚. 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐒𝐨 𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 - Chan x FEM Reader!

cw : something like 50 shades ??, contractual sex, co-workers/boss, possessive hard dom chan, naive reader, you though he was a sweet guy but he's an actual daddy

sw : hair pulling, choke kink, anal, blowjob, scratching, hard dom, little mention of blood, spanking, size kink, thigh humping, breast playng, biting, marks, fingering

wc : 6.6k

synopsis : You always did your work with dedication and diligence, your boss Bang Chan always complimented you for every job you completed on time. He was always very kind to you, always smiling and helpful when you needed help. You never expected that one night, when you were working overtime, he would approach you and ask you to come to his office to sign a new contract that would give you a promotion. Too bad, maybe not too bad, it was a completely different contract. This led to a new kind of passion that you never thought you'd get caught up in. And that Bang Chan was not as sweet as he showed you during the day.

a/n : hii, i'm back with another fic ! This was a request so I hope anon can enjoy this like all of u 🩷 it was so exciting to write and i hope u could like it - im obsessed with dom but apparently sweet Chan 🫣🫣 Enjoy 🫶🏻 I opened a ko-fi account, i will post there some stories and drawings, if you want to support me i will be grateful to anyone who wants to give me tips, ITS NOT OBLIGATORY

[ HARD SMUT ]

It was another typical working day for you, you were sitting comfortably in your chair, going through the last of the papers your colleague had sent you for final checking. You had gotten a little hungry and had started to munch on some carrots, taking them out of your lunch box. You worked as a secretary for a big company, so you had to check all your colleagues' work and correct any mistakes before sending it to your boss: Bang Chan. A lot could be said about him as he was truly a man of gold. He was always kind and helpful to all his subordinates and to you, his secretary, he was no less, always greeting you with a smile and a pat on the back. You couldn't even deny how attractive he was, you were really lucky to have such a boss. Bang Chan was like the forbidden dream of every employee in the company, even the older ladies. He was a not so tall man, well built and very muscular. A distinct sense of style and elegance and a face like few others. Simply gorgeous, you thought.

Nothing had changed that day either, Chan had arrived smiling, his shirt slightly unbuttoned, no tie and his jacket in his hands. He had walked up to you and patted you on the back, smiling as if you were good friends. "Good work, Y/N, I want you in my office tonight to discuss a new contract." He said as he squeezed your shoulders and walked into his office. You were almost out of breath when he touched you. His hands were warm and you felt as if he wanted to hold you. But it was all in your head and he was your boss, certain things were not appropriate. You wondered what kind of contract he was talking about, since you had been promoted just two weeks ago - and with it a pay rise. Now you were very curious. It didn't take you long to ask your colleagues if Chan had been giving out raises lately. The man never ceases to surprise you.

You could see him making himself comfortable at his desk, taking off his jacket to give you a good view of his blue shirt, which clung well and perfectly to every single muscle. The man was truly amazing, a walking constant provocation, and of course you felt a little guilty having certain thoughts about him, which did nothing but show you sweetness and dedication to his work, as well as respect for you. You spent your morning working hours before your lunch break reviewing documents and glancing at your boss as he received corporate clients in his office with a beaming smile. Sometimes you wondered how he could smile so sweetly at everyone....

You could hear your colleague muttering things like "but what's he smiling about" or "why does he always have that happy expression on his face", well bless him? Chan had never shown his employees that he was tired or angry, except once when your company was fined for a cheating customer. You remember Chan's angry expression as he shouted in his office, the vein in his neck throbbing. And it was typical of your colleague to sulk about everything, wondering what he was doing there if he hated the job, when his boyfriend, Chan's childhood friend by the way, had suggested he go to work with him. But that was how Hyunjin was, you remembered when he described the pain in his bottom after sex with his friend Changbin in his dramatic way.

"You know what Chan is like, Hyune, he never gets tired of doing what he likes," you chuckled, catching a small, pouty smile from your friend. "Are you busy tonight?" he asked as he approached you with his chair. "Chan asked me to come to the office to review the contract, I have no idea what it's about," you threw your head back in frustration. "That sucks, I wanted to get something to eat, Changbin is busy with Jisung in a new group they are producing," you smiled at Hyunjin's adorable pout and tussled his hair, causing another pout.

Time seemed to fly from that morning, so much so that you found yourself sitting at the cafeteria table with your best friend Ryujin and Hyunjin, having lunch as usual and gossiping about your colleagues. Unfortunately, you weren't sure where the conversation was going when your best friend opened up about none other than Chan. "In my opinion he fucks hard, I mean look at him," she said, causing you to choke on a vegetable thread. You looked at her in a mixture of shock and bewilderment, then at the man himself, who had rolled up his shirt sleeves to show off his buff arms. "He gives me the impression of a vanilla with all those sweet smiles he gives out, although Bin says one of his exes left him because she couldn't sustain his sex life," at which point you also choked on water. But were these conversations to be sustained over lunch?

"Why exactly are we talking about how Chan fucks, in the cafeteria and with him just a few steps away from us?" you asked, quite confused by the situation. Your friends were out of their minds. "You haven't said a word, what do you think he's like?" Ryujin asked cheekily, leaving you speechless for the umpteenth time, and you let out a long sigh before answering. "In my opinion, he's sweet, I don't see him doing dirty things in bed or in general," Ryujin burst out laughing and you blushed at your own words. "But have you seen him? That minimum will destroy you!" she said, convinced of her words. You swallowed the last bites of your lunch before choking again. Sure, you had some thoughts, but certainly not in a place where the whole company you work for could hear you. You left each other laughing and went back to your desk, where you stayed until closing time, when your friends said goodbye to you.

You were reluctant to knock on your boss's office door, you could see through the glass walls that he was concentrating on printing out various papers and wondered why he had not asked you as his assistant, then he raised his head and smiled at you, signalling for you to enter his office, there anxiety pervaded you. You did as he asked and were greeted with a warm smile and a gallant invitation to sit down in front of his desk, which he leaned on. "So, I've called you in to discuss an exclusive contract as my personal assistant, let's say I've upgraded it a bit: I'd like you to move into my house from Tuesday to Friday and also to accompany me on my business trips, which will become more frequent as I've expanded our partnerships, and I'd like to discuss a much more... delicate side of the contract over dinner, perhaps over a nice glass of wine. I just wanted to let you know today. Come to dinner at my house on Saturday, you will have the correspondence, you can sign the contract extension and know the rest," he smiled.

But your brain had been given too much information to digest and process, you had stopped at the moving out in his house part... You didn't know how to react to the news, it had all been so unexpected that you still had to process it, and he understood that well from your expression, which was a mixture of confusion and disbelief. He laughed - and no, Chan, there was nothing to laugh about - "Well, I understand it's a lot of information, you don't have to answer me right away, we'll talk more about it on Saturday, like I said," he gave you another sweet smile and you nodded, trying to return it and getting up from your chair you saw that he had already started to turn everything off and had followed you to the exit. "Good night, Chan," you whispered with a small bow, which he returned with a smile and a pat on the head that made you blush. "Good night, Y/N."

Ryujin and Hyunjin would have liked that.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖࣪

"He proposed to you WHAT?" Hyunjin almost shouted when you told him what Chan had told you in his office that evening. You were still in a state of disbelief; in short, living under the same roof as your boss was not exactly the best ... Especially when you felt guilty about fantasising about him after he had been so nice to you. "Yes, I'm still in shock and I have exactly three days to think about it, because he wants to have dinner with me at his house on Saturday," you whispered as if you were intimidated, and well, you definitely were a bit. So much so that the three days went by quickly and you were still standing in front of your boss's house. Hyunjin had been kind enough to be your stylist and you were sure that he had done his best to make you sexy, had even advised you to throw yourself into the experience, Chan certainly wasn't going to eat you up.

Or so you thought.

But Chan was a man of many surprises, and he was about to prove it. When he opened the door, you saw an Adonis, an ethereal Greek god smiling at you, opening the gates of Olympus. He was magnificent and uniquely beautiful, a man like few others, you thought. The tight white turtleneck accentuated every single muscle in that chest - from the pecs to the belly, you could count them one by one - and the dark denim trousers wrapped well-trained thighs, and you let your mind wander a little too much. You wore jeans that were a little tight from the thighs down to the ankles, a black lace top that allowed a glimpse of your bra - damn you, Hyunjin - and a simple jacket suit of the same colour. Your shoulders were crossed and you watched as Chan invited you in with a beaming smile. "Please, come in and give me your jacket, the dining room is that way, I'll be there in a few minutes."

It was certainly a nice apartment, modern, bright and very spacious for one person, so much so that you wondered if he might sometimes feel lonely in this environment. Then you remembered his suggestion and blushed. You made your way to the well-appointed dining room, where the food was well served and covered with special thermal lids to keep it from getting cold. "Here I am, Y/N, please have a seat, I went to get the paperwork for later. How about we start with a good glass of red wine? This is very good, a friend of mine sent it to me from Italy, imagine that," he chuckled and then moved your chair and made you sit down. He really was such a kind, decent, gentle man. So sweet. It suddenly occurred to you that it might be a good idea to share a roof with him. He sat across from you, sipping some wine and putting a piece of steak in his mouth. What lips, you thought. You looked like a maniac.

"I'm sure everything will be delicious, and besides, I love red wine," you reassured yourself, unaware that he knew the detail because he had asked Changbin to ask Hyunjin, who, being scatterbrained as he was, had not suspected anything. "Oh well, lucky shot. So, have you thought about my proposal these days, sweetheart?" for a moment you forgot how to speak in front of the nickname. "Um, yes, I'm very much inclined to accept your proposal," you told him as you drank some wine, you needed it, and a lot of it, otherwise you wouldn't have survived the evening. His eyes lit up and he smiled at you, he was really handsome, damn. "I'm very happy that you accepted, there's just one more... delicate additional clause that I'd like to talk to you about. You're not obliged to accept it, of course, and it won't affect the contract I mentioned before, it's a separate thing, let's say another contract", you were confused, what else could he want from you? With your glance you encouraged him to go on.

"That's it, I've been alone for a long time without a woman by my side and the physical needs are starting to kick in. My last serious relationship ended because she was, so to speak, unable to support me in bed. So I need a woman who I consider to be strong and stable as well as beautiful like you, and since we will be together most of the time, I thought we could take advantage of that. Of course I have inquired whether you have someone at your side or not, I would never allow myself to ask such things of a taken girl, much less are you obliged to accept. I also want to emphasise that I do not see you as an object to vent my sexual pleasures, I have great respect for you. Having said that, I look forward to hearing what you think."

Your face was indescribable at that moment, your fork hanging in the air, your mind urging you to accept such an absurd proposal. It was amazing, by the way, how he was such a sweet gentleman and so respectful to even ask you such a thing. It almost made you hate him. But the truth was that you were quite tempted, even though you shouldn't be. "Excuse me, I have to go to the toilet," he said, understanding your surprise and not being hurt by it, he took a sip and wiped his lips before showing you where to go. Where, by the way, it didn't take you long to make a group video call and tell your best friends what you had gotten yourself into.

"I'd love to accept, I mean have you seen him? He's definitely going to fuck like hell," said your best friend. "Accept, what have you got to lose? You're sexually frustrated and haven't had sex in ages, not to mention that your taste in men sucks. He's a gift from heaven right now," Hyunjin said, since when was he so wise? And he was right, after all, neither of them had anything to lose.

When you returned to where you were sitting, you drank the Goblet in one go: "I'm in, what do I need to sign?" you said. Chan's eyes lit up, a mixture of disbelief and satisfaction. "I've got all the contracts over there, calling me by my name, and you don't know how happy you've made me. Obviously we're not starting tonight, I'll help you get your things over here, and if either of us feels like it on Monday, maybe we can try something," he smiled broadly at you, and you really couldn't help but smile back.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖࣪

When you arrived at work on Monday morning, your best friend gave you a sly look because you had texted him about the rest of the evening with your boss - now boss with benefits? - who, after dinner, had accompanied you to his office to sign the rest of the contract, not forgetting to caress your skin or wrap his arms around your waist. You had noticed that he was a man who sought physical contact and was very affectionate. Ever since he had promoted you to be his personal assistant, he had not missed an opportunity to pat and squeeze your back as a sign of encouragement.

He had offered you more wine and shown you around his apartment, which was very large indeed, he had a sort of library room, you were surprised to see how many books he had, and most of them he had read. He had taken you into his garden where he had a small vegetable garden and small flower beds and finally, after showing you what would be your room, he had taken you into another study where there were musical instruments and other tools whose names you did not know. He had just confessed to you his passion for music, which he practised on his days off, sometimes in the company of Changbin and his friend Jisung.

You were shocked that one man could have so many passions and still find time for everything. He looked like Clark Kent, but without the glasses and the weird superpowers.

By the time you had taken your seat, Hyunjin had given you another look, pointing out a beaming, smiling Chan in his office - which was not much different from the usual one, but he had a different aura than his usual working days. When he saw you, he gave you a smile and a wink that made you blush and even earned you an elbow from your friend to tease you, you had not yet settled into your new job, but already that morning some of Chan's employees had come to pick up your things, you would not be there for a whole week, so you did not have to bring everything exactly, but the essentials you would surely need, after all they had also brought suitcases and bags full of personal belongings, clothes and things like that.

He signalled you to follow him to his study, and as soon as you turned on your computer, you proceeded to him. The question, "Good morning, sweetheart, how are you?" was somewhat unexpected, although not because he could not ask you the question, but because you were expecting a different kind of question. However, we were discussing Chan, and he was still the sweetest guy you knew. This prompted you to consider whether there might be a side of him that he had yet to reveal in private. "Um well, you?" you rocked back on your heels. "I'm fine. So we're going home together tonight, my boys have finished bringing your things, you just need to get them set up in your room. I would like to request your assistance in my home office for a few additional hours. A significant contract must be negotiated with a German company. Additionally, I would like to spend some time with you." He whispered this last sentence, and, besides blushing, you experienced a physical sensation of goose bumps. His gaze was different, more penetrating, with a different light, and his voice had dropped an octave. You observed what you believed to be a change in his eyes, which appeared darker and more intense. This observation was accompanied by a sensation of trembling in your legs.

Your underwear was visibly moist; however, if he had observed your state, it was unclear how he would have react. He dismissed you by returning to your usual work room after you nodded off, and when Hyunjin saw you in such a state, he did nothing but tease you until lunch. That was when Ryujin joined in. Your expression was comically pathetic, and the two of them would not stop teasing you. At this sight, Chan , who was directly involved in the aforementioned incident, joined in. He approached you with a kind smile and patted your shoulder, which caused you to shiver. "Have a good lunch, Y/N, guys..." he said. It was evident that Hyunjin was attempting to restrain himself from laughing in Chan's face.

"Should I inform him that he caused your panties to become wet? It would undoubtedly make the entire situation more epic”, Ryujin jested, causing you to laugh slightly less due to the presence of Chan, who was behind you and had overheard every word. This resulted in Chan giggling. You were in a difficult position, both literally and figuratively. You were forced to thank your best friend... You observed Chan direct a gaze at you that you were unable to identify, yet you were certain that he licked his lips in anticipation of capturing them between his teeth. You were compelled to concede that you were entertaining the notion of engaging in the same act. Hyunjin's interjection served to disrupt your train of thought. You were, in fact, digging your own grave, having already initiated the process by falling into it. You were now merely attempting to cover yourself with dirt.

The day passed more rapidly than you had anticipated, and you found yourself in the evening having to bid farewell to your friends, who were still laughing at you. As you were tidying your belongings, two arms wrapped around your waist, and it was evident who it was. His warm breath brushed against your skin, and you were certain you would not be able to endure much longer. The man was the end of you. He commenced to bestow wet kisses upon your neck, and without intending to and realising it, a small moan escaped you. You were now definitively ruined. He chuckled against your skin and turned you towards him, smiling. It was incredible. "So, my dear, are you prepared to return home?" he whispered. It was as if, when the office emptied, he became another person. He was inches from your lips and they were too inviting and full to remain that way. Consequently, you set aside your shyness and initiated a kiss.

The kiss was markedly different from any previously experienced. It was passionate, as if the man had not kissed a woman in years. Chan was passionate and engaging in his every move, and it was as if melting in his arms was inevitable. He was just as physically attractive as his body suggested, and he was an impressive individual. His hands tightened on your waist, massaging your hips. You could feel his thumbs enter your skin as his full lips pulled yours into a kiss that seemed to last an eternity. In your stomach, you experienced a series of unusual sensations. His tongue penetrated your mouth, and gradually, his lips began to move along your jaw, down your neck, and to your shoulder, where he focused a little more. You were certain that he was going to drive you insane very soon.

He grasped your thighs and positioned you on your desk. The mere possibility that the janitor might have entered the room at any moment and discovered you aroused you considerably. "You have no idea what I would like to do to you right now, sweetheart," he whispered into the crook of your neck as his hands went up your thighs, squeezing them. Your lips emitted a series of gasps as your hands made space for themselves in his now disordered curls. You uttered a curse. This was undoubtedly the end of you. "Why don't you do it then?" you sneered, gaining some confidence. You observed him return that grin as he took tufted hair and tied it in a vice, pulling it backwards to reveal your callus, which was far too clean for his taste. In point of fact, I did not employ the use of molt to inflict marks and bites upon him. "I would suggest that it is time to return home, or do you wish to remain in these wet panties for an extended period? It has been several hours, has it not?" he laughed, recalling your conversation with your closest companions that afternoon at luncheon.

You blushed and placed your hand on his arm, indicating that you wished to compose yourself. He took you in his arms and you observed that he was also experiencing a similar problem, as evidenced by his obvious erection. He smiled at you and, after saying goodbye to the janitor who was about to enter the office, you proceeded together to Chan's house. The car ride was an ordeal, as his hand remained on your naked thigh and squeezed it. You had by now admitted to yourself, while lying down, that the only thing you wanted was for him to insert his fingers into your panties and then into you. What was the man doing to you?

Upon your arrival, he did not allow you the opportunity to remove your jacket; instead, he took care of it himself, with great eagerness. His lips followed yours as he whisked you to the door, taking your legs and tying them around his waist. You felt his erection pushing against your clothed pussy. You longed only for him to undress you. He swiftly removed his shirt, and you were captivated by the beauty and musculature of his physique. You felt as though you were experiencing a hallucination. Was there truly such a flawless man? Not to mention the extensive tattoo that extended down his right arm. You lingered for a considerable period of time, admiring it, before running your hands down his chest and arms, caressing his warm and velvety skin. You could perceive the degree of physical conditioning he had achieved merely through touching his arms. "Do you like it, my dear?" he inquired, his voice a mere whisper in your ear. It was a rhetorical question, of course, but one that could be answered in the affirmative by anyone.

"You have no idea how much," you replied frankly before initiating another kiss. You believed you had merely provided a sort of addiction to the latter. He giggled before leading you down the hallway to the kitchen table and setting you down on it. "Good because I'm really ridiculously hungry so allow me to satiate myself," he said, his tone indicating a change in subject. From that point on, you were no longer in earnest. Passion and lust had evidently overpowered you. You observed him disappear between your thighs, spreading you wide as his nose pressed against your still-clothed but completely soaked centre. He left it a kiss and then pulled the fabric with his teeth. You were convinced that you felt them sink into the flesh of your clitoris as well. By this point, you were no longer holding back, as there was no point in doing so. You were a moaning mess.

"You smell very pleasant; I imagine your taste is similarly agreeable." This was the most dirty image you had ever seen. He removed your underwear and began licking your labia minora, which caused you to close your eyes. Your left hand descended from your hair to your shoulder, where you dug your nails into her skin, certain that you had done so.

He emitted a moan, which surprised you, given that you had always considered him to be a sweet guy. However, given his reaction, you increased your grip and scratched deeper into his now reddened skin. Meanwhile, he was working his way between your walls with his tongue, sucking on portions of your skin before penetrating you with it and fucking you with his tongue himself. This caused you to lose your breath. It was evident that the state of your body would not withstand the prolonged stimulation. Your own sensitivity was already considerable, and the fact that you had not had a relationship for a considerable period of time, coupled with Chan's unexpected skill with every touch he gave you, was driving you to the brink of insanity.

Your prediction was correct as you freed yourself in no time on his skillful tongue, which totally cleaned you up, even licking your lips. The experience was so intense that you were overwhelmed. "It was exquisite, and I may never get enough," he said as he approached you, who were now panting and short of breath. However, you noticed that his problem remained unresolved. "Take off your pants," you intimated, pulling him by the belt. He was perplexed by this turn of events and clenched his fists on your thighs. "Are you attempting to issue commands, princess?" he inquired with a hint of amusement, then proceeded to remove his belt and tie your wrists behind your back. However, he was uncertain as to the purpose of this action.

"You are not able to touch me, as I am in control of the situation. Should you wish to cum again, you will do as I say. However, I will not have sex with you at this time. I wish to cause you suffering first" he sneered. This is contrary to the image of the sweet boy that he presented. He undressed you completely, admiring your body from a distance once you had nothing to cover yourself and then disappeared to get something. He returned with a bottle of wine in his hand and a full goblet from which he was drinking. "You know I love wine. I wonder what it tastes like if I pour it on you. What do you say? Shall we try it?" He bit his lip as he moved closer to you and kissed you with the same frenzy as before. The wine tasted like red wine, the same one he had offered you nights before. What remarkable coincidence was that ever? You felt a liquid, which was not particularly cold, run through your breasts and the rest of your body. The liquid had made its way up your stomach to your thighs, and Chan was gradually descending with his lips, as if he wanted to consume you.

His lips fixed themselves first on your collarbones, which had been previously treated with a little bit of wine. He proceeded to drink the liquid and begin to leave bites and kisses on your breasts. You were certain that he was consuming you and that you would find purple marks all along the way, particularly around your nipples. With one hand, he was holding one of your breasts and massaging it, while playing with the nipple that was stuck between his index and middle fingers. His mouth was on the other breast, licking, biting and sucking the nipple. It was clear that nothing could be more pleasurable than the experience at that moment. The head was thrown back in response to the intense pleasure. "What a delight you are, princess," he said, his remaining hand clutched at her throat. All she could produce were disjointed sounds devoid of meaningful words. He proceeded to descend with his tongue, licking the wine from your stomach to your thighs. He then proceeded to bite and leave hickeys all the way to your groin.

Upon raising his face, one observed a smug expression. Saliva was observed to be dripping from the sides of the lips, and the subject was perceived as a potential meal. In contrast, Chan had never known a woman like you, and your every move drove him crazy. Your scent and beauty had been the first thing he had noticed when he first became interested in you. The sensation of your vaginal walls constricting around his tongue was a profound experience, one that sent him to a state of rapture. He contemplated the sensations he would experience when he penetrated you with his penis. You observed him grin repeatedly, and you gasped when he was completely naked in front of you. Perhaps you understood why his former girlfriend had found sexual intercourse with him to be an unbearable experience. It was a complex array of sensations. He was of considerable girth and possessed a notable degree of vascularity. You observed him for a few moments, during which time he elicited a sarcastic chuckle.

"I can see you quite like what you see, sweetheart," he laughed, only to have you spread your legs and begin rubbing his length over your thigh, grazing your clitoris with the tip. This was a spot to which, by the way, he was the subject of the torture of his thumb moving quickly over it. He was fucking you until you were dumb. And not in the literary sense, unfortunately. "Chan...please..." you implored him, this being perhaps the third or fourth occasion on which you had reached orgasm that evening, with the intervals between the events being relatively brief.

"Be patient, my dear," he whispered in your ear. The speed with which he was rubbing his penis had increased significantly, and seeing him moaning like that, with those expressions contributed greatly to accelerating your orgasm, which occurred a few minutes before the one that Chan released on your thigh. With two fingers, he took some of the semen and brought it to your lips as he squeezed your neck, indicating that you should open your mouth. He engaged in oral stimulation of your tongue until his fingers were clean, then withdrew and proceeded to clean you. He then inquired as to your preferences for dinner. He proceeded to bite his lip and extend an invitation for you to take a bath with him.

The duration of the cohabitation would be long.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖࣪

The last thing you ever imagined in your life was living under the same roof as your boss. Yet here you were, in the car with him, driving back to "your" home. It had been two weeks since you had signed that contract, Hyunjin and Ryujin were doing nothing but trying to extrapolate information and gossip to you about how Chan was fucking. But no, you didn't know either - you weren't always doing something, every day, there were days when you were really busy or days when Chan didn't go out except to go to work from his studio. But when he was in the right mood, he didn't hesitate to call you into his studio and drive you crazy with his touch. You experienced things you had never tried before, like wax play, and one night he even tied you up with a rope that was thicker than you thought. Not to mention the first time he had fucked you in the mouth. He had been so rough - not that you had minded - that you had trouble moving your jaw for the next two days. But Chan had been very kind to look after you.

Now he tightened his hand around your thigh, almost as if he were angry, and you wondered what was going on in the boy's head at that moment. When you got home, he gave you a look that you could not decipher and took you in his arms - at which you let out a cry of surprise - and took you to his room, where you had never been before.

"Get ready because you'll be up a lot tonight," he said as he tossed you into bed. From then on you understood that this was the moment after two weeks when he would not feel pity for you, and in the end you were not so sad. He laughed at the sight of your face, which was a little confused and shocked at his sudden disappearance, but you wondered why he looked so angry. "Did something happen?" you innocently asked the boy who was now towering over you. He laughed as if you had just said the funniest thing ever. "It really bothers me that the typist won't stop looking at you, trying miserably to get your attention. I have to do something to let others know you're mine," he whispered in your ear, making you shiver. You had no idea what he was talking about, but you were sure that seeing him so possessive of you had had an unexpected effect on you.

"Do it Chan," you said as you tugged at the collar of his shirt; you were going crazy for this man and seeing him like this only made you more vulnerable to his mercy.

You didn't even notice how he unzipped your clothes, how the room had suddenly become extremely hot, as if someone had lit a fire or a stove. Chan didn't need to move to show you what was hidden under his clothes, what a wonderful god he was under those now useless and discarded robes on the floor. You had seen him walk away and take something from the cupboard and were almost surprised to see handcuffs in his hands. You hated being touched when he was in charge, you had learnt many things about him in those weeks, one of which was that Chan loved to feel in charge, to be in control. And how he loved it. And you didn't mind seeing the smug look on his face when he knew he was having an effect on you. He grabbed your hands and brought them behind your back, stopping them with the metal object, his expression was something indescribable. He was so attractive, you could have come just by looking at him.

He positioned you with your head dangling from the foot of the bed and lowered himself to your level, stroking your red lips with his thumb as you gasped. All this was already having an effect. "Look how beautiful you look," he whispered as he moved his lips closer to yours, "so beneath me, at my will, ready to receive all I have to give you... you are a feast for the eyes. "If you only knew you..." she whispered through his lips, boosting his ego and pushing him even further to initiate a ravenous, almost violent kiss. He pulled his tongue out with his teeth and sucked on it. "Chan... please..." you said almost imperceptibly, which amused him greatly as he loved to see you like that.

He stood in front of you, his figure was imposing, statuesque. You could see his full length. He winked, made you open your lips with his thumb, played with your tongue. If only he had put a finger between your legs, you would have known immediately the effect he was having on you. "Be a good girl and take it all in your mouth, princess," he chuckled as he began to work his length down your entire throat, the fact that you were upside down on the bed making it even more exciting. But it wasn't like Chan to stand still while you gave him pleasure. And while he held your hair in a tight grip, he enjoyed using his other hand to caress your breast and play with your nipple. This drove you crazy as much as it drove him crazy that the moans he was making you make his cock quiver in your throat. This really drove him out of his mind.

His hand went all the way down your chest to your belly as he mercilessly fucked your throat. He squeezed your side and reached down to lick your navel with his tongue. His hand wanders to the naked centre of your intimacy: "Look how sensitive we are today. Two fingers begin to make small circles over your clitoral hood and this immediately makes you moan again along its length. He inserts one finger and then a second, fucking you with them first. You throw back your eyes as he reaches your sensitive spot and begins to curl his fingers. But he doesn't go for it, he doesn't want to come like that, he doesn't want you to come like that. "I'm going to fuck you mercilessly, princess. Don't scream too loudly, you don't want the neighbours to complain," he whispered in your ear after leaving your lips and towering over you.

He brought your knees up to his shoulders and paused to watch your hole shrink around the nothing. "It's going to be really wonderful to fuck you." And he entered you. "Ah!" you moaned, unable to stop yourself. You felt full. Good. Filled. "'Damn darling, you're so tight, even after my fingers... I'm going to start moving now, okay?" he groaned, then pulled out of you and suddenly thrust back in. You moan. "You like it, you want more baby," he chuckled then watched as you begged him pleadingly with gestures and disconnected words. And if he only knows how much you wanted it.

He begins to move without stopping, trapping you between his elbows as if to let you know that you are his alone. At first he pushes himself into you slowly, until you get used to it and start to want more, pushing your hips against his. He speeds up and you almost lose your breath, your moans now a poor diastro. You feel like you could come at any moment and he can tell by the way you tighten around him. "Come for me, Y/N," he says hoarsely into your ear, then takes you in his arms and kisses you roughly until your lips bleed. But he doesn't miss a drop and licks up to the end of your chin when, without warning, you come and he's inside you.

He slowly leans you back into the mattress and gets off on top of you. But you are not tired, you want more. "What is it, Princess?" he says, looking at you. You have noticed his gaze. "I want to do it again," you whisper breathlessly. He looks at you amused and chuckles, towering over you. "You really are insatiable," he says, turning you over and letting you rest on his lap, your hair quickly clenched in his fist and pulled towards him, making you moan immediately. "Now I'm going to fuck you from behind, baby," he whispers in your ear before he enters you. It was slow and almost excruciating but you loved the feeling of him rubbing inside you, maybe you loved the feeling of just having him inside you. "Inside you is like being in heaven," he whispers in a rough voice as he increases his thrusts, making them almost animalistic, everything moving with you, even the bed. You moan, loudly, and once again you clench around him. "Come for me, baby," and with just one word you scream his name and come on his hand, which had reached down to your clit to collect your fluids.

He makes you lie on your side and smiles, then caresses your cheek and leaves a bite on your shoulder before licking your fluids away.

"I could go on until dawn."

"Fuck me."

In the end he wasn't so sweet like you thought, not in bed.

TAGLIST 🎀 : @yongbokkiesworld @gloomy-k @raindropsondragons @linocvp1d @iiamthedramaa @snowyquokka @pynchkilledme @y4kie @ihrtlix @hyunjinnnsgirl @sugarsweetsugarsweet @reader1221 @bubblebisk @palindrome969 @resi4skz @trulymadxoxo @captainchrisstan @yyfka @boldy-49 @skzruby @mxmokoa12 @hyunjinhoexxx @lilalustig13 @tinys0ftie @xxstrayland @ilovejeongin007 @idontevenknow75 @strayywayy @lurking-coconut @brojustfknkillm3 @beautyinhypnosis @klyde06 @yessssssooo @cgnab @neyangi @miinhoo @moonlight-the-writer @meilix @felixismybf @gabriellacasteel @chrizzztopherbang

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forensicheart · 6 months

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One Night Or More

Charles Leclrec x Reader

Summary: It was only meant to be a one night stand, but maybe it could be more...

Warning: Dirty talk, intention of sex/lead up

A/N: Not really sure how I feel about my writing in this one but let me know what you thought. I'm trying to post a few times a week and have so many ideas but would love some requests if you have any!

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You knew it was wrong form the beginning. From the look in his eyes that grew darker as they gazed upon your body but you couldn’t help yourself. The way he teased your body while you danced had you going crazy. Nothing but dirty thoughts running through your mind and you're almost certain that he was having the exact same ones. Let's what led you both here isn't it? Back to your hotel room, clothes lost and forgotten throughout the room, not being able to control yourselves the moment you were alone. Wet kisses trailed down your body, dark marks in their wake. One hand massaging your breast and the other making it's way further down your body.

He kissed you with such passion as his hands moved, not stopping either motion for a second showing off his ability to multitask and god did you love it. You were already a moaning mess beneath him, having been riled up all night at the club with his body pressed against yours, hands dangerously low on your waist as you danced with one another. His body was somehow closer now, his hands not hesitating to touch places he hadn't in the club.

"Tell me what you desire mon amour" That damned accent, you were melting for this man who you didn't even know the name of.

"Please, touch me, touch me in whatever way you want, I just need something" The man above you chuckled.

"Already begging belle, we've barely just begun"

And boy was he right, you couldn't forget that night, not with the way he touched you, made you feel and you still don't know his name. The next morning you had awoken to an empty bed and a note on your bedside.

'Had to leave early for work, breakfast is on the table. Thank you for last night mon amour ;)'

Most men wouldn't leave a note let alone make breakfast for you and the note didn't lie. You had walked out into the kitchen to find a plate of pancakes placed on the counter. Still warm indicating that he hadn't left that long ago. No dishes were found in the sink though and instead you found your dishwasher running. A true gentlemen. You cursed yourself for not asking for his number, or at least his name, it was only planned to be a one night stand though, that's all you went out for so you never thought you would want to get to know him more. Especially since most of the time you spent together was spent in your bed.

You decided to take the plate of pancakes and make your way to the couch where you turned on the tv. You sat mindlessly scrolling through the channels as you ate until you saw it. Or well, him. You stopped scrolling and lent forward in your seat making sure you were seeing this clearly. A Formula 1 driver. That's who you'd spent the night with. Well now any hope you had of possibly getting to know him was crushed. You would have merely been another body to him, another fuck to satisfy his needs. You tuned in still, wanting to see what he could do, maybe hear his voice again. You saw the thousands of fans at the race, many with signs, calling out to the man you had been with only hours before. Charles. That was the name they shouted, that was his name. Charles Leclerc.

You decided to move to Instagram and check out his profile, spending longer than intended starting at each photo he has posted of himself. Each picture bought back a memory from your night, remember the way he worked his hands and fingers on your body. Without much though you had clicked the follow button and then the message one.

'Hey. I know this is a long shot, but we spent the night together last and I was hoping to get to know you more. Maybe you're thinking I'm some crazy fan or weird for wanting to know you after merely having a one night stand and also finding out who you are after not even being told your name but-'

You were partway through your message when one was sent in the chat by nonother than Charles himself.

'Hey, sorry if it's weird to message you but I took notice of your profile picture and I believe you may have been the one I met last night'

He had messaged you first. Now that was strange. You didn't hesitate to respond though.

'Hi, yeah that's me, I don't believe I ever introduced myself though, I'm Y/n. Thanks for reaching out, kinda strange but I was in the middle of messaging you when you sent yours haha'

You were aware that you both sounded a little awkward, or maybe only you thought that. It wasn't normal to hunt down and reach out to your one night stand after all.

'What a coincidence haha. If you're still around maybe I could pop by your hotel room again later?' You smile at the message tying your own to invite him over and blushing as he hearts it setting your phone down and beginning the wait.

A knock at the door snapped you out of your thoughts as you dragged your eyes away from the show you had been invested in and towards the clock. 9pm. He must be here. You got up quickly, rushing to the door faster than you'd like to admit and opened the door with a smile indeed seeing Charles stand before you. You both stared at one another for a moment before you stepped aside and motioned for him to come in, which he did.

"Please, take a seat" You motioned this time to the couch as you made your way there yourself, getting comfortable as Charles politely took a seat on the other end, his hands clasps together in his lap.

"Would you like anything, a drink, snack?" You offered as the silence became too much for you. Charles moved from looking around the room to looking at you with a small smile.

"No thank you, I'm ok" You nodded and the silence began once more.

"So uh-" "I wanted-" The two of you laughed awkwardly before you gestured for Charles to speak first.

"I know it may be weird to want to talk after having a one night stand but I couldn't stop thinking about you all day. The way your body felt so right in my arms last night, how your eyes sparkled as you looked into mine, the way your laugh intoxicated me as we danced at the club. I just-" He paused, obviously nervous and hesitant but took a breath and kept speaking. "I just wanted to maybe see if you'd like to go on a proper date with me, get to know each other, without the sex. I know we just met last night and it was mainly sex and all but-"

You cut Charles off, a grin on your face as he began to ramble.

"I would love to" Charles cheeks flushed as he let out a breath before a wide smile came to his lips.

Maybe it wouldn't be just a one night stand after all.

#characters #writing #love #imagines #requests are open #f1 imagine #charles lecrelc #charles leclerc x reader #f1 #formula 1 #charles leclerc imagine

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g1ucose · 4 months

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The Best

being UK’s number one and having a tension filled rivalry with the number one hero of USA. It makes sense, both country’s population don’t really like eachother. The online discourse on “which hero is best?” is a never ending battle of “you eat beans on toast haha” and “shut up you american prick”

you meet once a year for one week, during an awarding heroes event and every year, you meet in each others private hotel rooms to fuck each others brains out to prove whose really the best, because sparring would probably end up in several damaged buildings and several hospital bills or even a dead body. “this is the safest way” she persuaded you with that vapid naughty look , “whattt, are you scared I might win?”

you didn’t let her get to you though. every year, the violent teeth clashing always ended up with you claiming victory. her cocky hubris attitude dwindling away with each tug of her blonde locks and a vicious bite on whatever part of her body that was the closest and just like that you’d have the number one, omnipotent, supposedly omniscient hero of U fucking SA succumbing to you. her fingers entangle themselves in your hair when you drive up into her with your silicone dick her legs resting on your shoulders and her mouth falls open to gasp out at the immense stretch of your ribbed strap, all the oxygen leaving her lungs. “what’s wrong my love? can’t catch your breath?” the nickname makes her whine even though she knows you’re only messing with her. “Fuck— ah! — youu.” she tries to show at least some defiance but you know for certain she’s throughly enjoying it. “you’re manners are horrible because of course they are.” you speak casually rolling your eyes along with the comment as if you aren’t a few too many inches deep inside of her.

she cuts off your rambling insults with a pull of your hair that brings your mouth onto her lips and has you slowing the pace of your hips into a sweet rut that has her whimpering into your intertwined tongues. You pull away, moving down her body placing gratifying pecks down her collar bone. “m’cumming—” she hurries out resting a panicked hand on your thigh. “already? where are your manners?” you remind her.

“what?— ahn—,” her eyes flicker up into yours when she realises what you’re asking of her, “ohh—fuck you. I’m n—not begging.”

“I guess I’ll have to stop then?”

she swallows whats left of her pride one last time before letting out the most pathetic pleas of, “please please— Oh fuckk— please ugh- let me cum, let me cum— m’cummin”

“And whose the best, hm?” you coo at her,

“Fuck— you are. you— ah!“ you cut her off by leaning your remaining weight on top of her and resting your face in the space between her neck, her legs now almost parallel to her torso as you bend her in half as you pound into her punctuating your point with each of your thrusts. “Yeah thats right.” you say with bared teeth, “I’m the fuckin’—best.” by the end of the night you have her cumming with her teeth sunk deep into the fleshy junction between your neck and shoulder making you wince out in pain. “Ow—fuckk.”

She’s heaving for breath when you get off her body, her hands clinging onto you as you leave the bed to find your clothes. “what. the fuck.” she breathes out. “loser.” you chuckle as you slam the door shut behind you as you leave her hotel room.

at the end of the week, you’re watching her stride towards the woman holding the golden trophy ready to claim the piece of metal marking her as the “Number One Hero of The People.” and makes you scoff because you and her both know who the better hero really is.

A/N: lmfoa i forgot to mention that im british which makes my crush on cathleen a little funnier, also sorry for making you british but its for the plot guys!! tbh i dont really like this but oh well i spent time writing it might aswell post it, no?

#cathleen bate #cathleen bate x reader #cathleen bate smut #mha x reader #stars and stripes x reader #star and stripe #stars and stripes #wlw ns/fw #mha

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accidentally-in-fictional-love · 4 months

Note

For your ask game ~ 📖 🦉 🔞

Worth the Risk - Jack Delroy/Reader

Warnings: Female reader, no use of Y/N, making out, almost fully clothed grinding, clothed fingering, bit of exhibition/voyeurism, vaginal sex.

Wordcount: 6317

Summary: He'd given you his card, invited you to the studio with the promise of a good time, and the show had been amazing for sure, but did the night really have to end once the cameras turned off?

Notes: I really wanted to write this the other day but I was too sleepy and went to bed early y'know like a baby 😖 anyways I've been wanting to do a sequel to Susceptible since I first posted it and somehow it ended up even longer so this is for you hehe hope you enjoy~ 💗💗💗

Wait for me by the back entrance at 11:00 Phil will let you in JD

You don’t know how many times you’d looked at the card he handed you since that night, but the corners were starting to bend and the pen marks were beginning to smudge, just a little. You forced yourself to leave it be as you checked your appearance one last time, the mirror by the front door to your apartment offering its final encouragement as you decided there was nothing left you could do to delay your departure before you were late. As soon as you were out the door you had to resist the urge to sprint, your heels sending muffled echoes down the hall as you headed straight for the elevator, a kindly old woman holding it for you with a smile.

You had the sense to call a cab early so you wouldn’t have to risk waiting and missing your 11PM deadline, the car stalling right outside the door as you waved to the driver and got inside. ‘Fiske Studios, please,’ you tell him, the small building owned by a branch of UBC now very well known thanks to a certain Mr. Midnight. Your leg bounced the entire way there, the card once again in your hands as you stared out the window, neighbourhoods giving way to open city streets, more cars circling around you like a school of fish. You hated driving in the city, it was the main reason why you dedicated so much of your paycheck to cabs, but tonight you were starting to wish you’d driven yourself as you hit the tenth red light in a row.

The driver sensed your anxiousness as you bit your lip for just a split second before your purse was opened and your lipstick was uncapped, the tiny mirror in your hand reassuring you that it’d be fine, you looked great, it was an easy fix. ‘Hot date tonight?’ he asked over his shoulder, his voice startling you a little as you snapped the mirror shut again.

‘Uh, going to a live show, actually,’ you said cautiously, avoiding a yes or no to his question; it’d be too presumptuous to say yes, but god if you didn’t want to hope. ‘I’m meeting a few friends there, don’t wanna be late and all.’

‘Oh, well, girl’s gotta have some fun on a Friday night, I guess,’ he said as he looked you over in the rearview, your coat pulled a little tighter over your shoulders as you forced a smile and tried not to look to disgusted; this was yet another reason why you were so fond of Jack Delroy, he’d never make you feel that way, what with him being such a gentleman and all.

The memory of the night you met made you shiver briefly as the hallucination flashed through your mind again, the false feeling of his hands on you having haunted you all week. You sucked in a very long breath through your nose as you willed the pink to leave your cheeks again, the last thing you needed right now was this guy seeing you get covered in goosebumps and assume it was because of what he’d said. You actually hadn’t been able to watch Night Owls since that night, feeling almost guilty about it even though there was no way he would know you hadn’t seen all the exciting things he’d been talking about. You’d tried last night, but as soon as the wall had opened and he’d strolled on out with that smile and his eyes instantly finding the camera you’d become a right mess way too fast and had to turn it off again, your heart pounding and your legs pressed uncomfortably tight together just at the sight of him.

Goddamn you Carmichael Haig.

The studio came into view with the latest turn and you readied yourself to get out, money already in hand by the time the car had stopped. The bill was settled and you stepped out into the cool night air, cutting off the driver’s wish for you to have a good night with the slamming of the door, and you took a look around and tried to guess which way would lead to the back door he’d mentioned. You waited until the car was out of sight, pretending to see your ‘friends’ so it wouldn’t look like you were about to walk down a dark alley by yourself, another deep breath exhaled sharply as you summoned up all of your courage and headed to the right.

It was a large alley, big enough for a car to drive down and reach the parking lot out back, which thankfully held just as many people walking about as the front did. A lot of them favoured a large, metal door up a tiny flight of stairs, keycards flashed to unlock it before it was held open for several people at a time, everyone helping each other in the most efficient of ways. You had no idea which one Phil was supposed to be, and if you waited too long you might get pinned as a fan trying to sneak in, so the next time someone approached the area you were lurking in you got the card back out and held it out to him.

‘Um, I’m supposed to find Phil?’ you said uncertainly, the man looking you over before taking the card. ‘Ja- Mr. Delroy told me to meet him here.’

‘How’d you meet Jack?’ he asked, clearly recognizing the handwriting but wanting to be certain all the same as he handed it back to you.

‘At Carmichael Haig’s show, we got to talk for a little bit,’ you explained, your nerves starting to rise the longer you were out there, the paranoia that you wouldn’t be able to get in starting to rise in your chest.

‘Ohhh, so you’re the one he was telling Gus about,’ the man said with a grin, your back straightening at the very thought of Jack talking about you with anyone, let alone with someone in a public place. ‘Yeah, he told me to expect someone, I’ll take you up there now if you help me carry something, save me a trip?’

You agreed to his terms, the man apparently being Phil as he shook your hand and handed you the box he was balancing on one arm as you talked. He quickly jogged back to his car to grab another box before returning to you, the door held open for you both as you squeezed past another employee and followed him through the maze of hallways and way too many doors to count. The studio itself was actually on the second floor, the first dedicated to offices and meeting rooms and other businessy things, the elevator able to just barely let you both cram inside as everyone got ready for the taping.

‘Is it always this hectic?’ you asked before you realized you were even opening your mouth, Phil just laughing and adjusting his box.

‘Every single night.’

Once the elevator had pinged and the doors had slid open, Phil then led you through a few more hallways until he pushed through a locked STAFF ONLY door, even more people on the other side, although there was more to the area back here, your eyes widening when it hit you that this was the back of Jack’s set. Phil noticed your excitement and set his box down on the nearest table, taking yours in another swift movement before motioning towards the slightly ajar wall panel; the audience’s seats were just in view through the crack, some people already coming in and finding their spots, and you were just in the middle of wondering if you should attempt finding an empty one when you felt a hand on your shoulder.

‘Quite the view, isn’t it?’

You turned to see Jack standing behind you, a look of pure bliss on his face as he watched the band get ready, Gus talking to someone and going over scripts off to the right, the few audience members chatting with each other as they guessed what they’d see that night. He truly loved this job, you could tell he did even after doing it for so many years, and seeing him so in love only made you love him even more. He looked down at you then, a fondness in his eyes as he gave your shoulder a squeeze and led you around back, a little tour before you had to leave him.

‘I’m glad you came,’ he admitted as you took everything in, everyone shifting their gaze towards the both of you as long as they thought they could get away with it. ‘Been looking forward to tonight all week, what did you think of the lineup?’

‘I, uh-’ you trailed off as he pulled you out of the way of a staff member carrying the requested items for tonight’s guest, your coat suddenly feeling way too warm to still be wearing inside. ‘I missed out on them, actually, been a busy week,’ you lied, avoiding his face as your cheeks lit up; you were not about to tell him that it was because looking at him made you remember how he’d felt pressed up against your waist, even if it was fake.

A shiver ran up your spine as you then realized that the heat against your back very much wasn’t however.

‘I’ll have to tell you all about it later, don’t want you missing out on anything,’ he said with a grin, your lips trembling as you tried to keep your smile from getting any bigger. There was no way he’d actually do that, he had to be too busy to entertain you when the PMs turned to AMs, but it was a nice thought indeed.

‘I’d like that,’ you admitted either way, happy to live in the fantasy for just a little bit at least.

‘Jack!’ someone called from just out of sight, a curly-haired man in sunglasses hunting him down with expert precision as he hurried over. ‘Gus just told me you’ve been saving seats all week, you wanna explain why that is?’

‘And there’s my cue,’ he whispers in your ear before using your shoulders to turn you and guide you back to the slit in the wall. ‘Middle front row, furthest left seat,’ he whispered before pushing you to the other side, his attention turned to his producer as he descended upon him for losing them money. You listened for just a second before it hit you that you were there, you were really there, your mouth dropping open as you slowly spun to check out the Night Owls set. People were whispering about who you might be but you didn’t care, not leaving until you heard Gus clear his throat and ask what you were doing.

‘Finding my seat,’ you mumbled, although maybe it had come out as nonsense in your delighted stupor, you couldn’t be sure at the moment.

‘Okay, do you have a ticket?’ he asked, still so polite even though he was very much confused. You just held up the card again, your eyes going higher as you stared at all the lights. ‘I see, so you’re the one he’s been waiting for, right this way.’

The one he’s been waiting for? Clearly you must’ve misheard, Jack Delroy couldn’t possibly have been that excited for you, you’d only spoken for maybe five minutes, tops.

Gus led you to your seat and you instantly sank into it, a 40 minute wait still ahead of you but it felt like no time at all as the rows all filled up and people slowly stopped walking across the set to prepare. On either side of you, cameramen took their places and lined up their shots, the blue screen of the viewfinder catching your attention as you couldn’t help but see what they saw. Gus got himself ready by the band, who were all tuned up and ready to go, and when midnight hit and Gus started calling out that night’s guests, you couldn’t help but bite your lip again as Jack’s name was announced and the wall opened up again to reveal him.

He’d been right, it was an incredible show, his presence so much more overwhelming as you could only focus on him no matter who he stood or sat beside. Every single one of his jokes landed, every eccentric wave of his hands drew you in without fail, and every single smile he shot your way when you laughed only confirmed more and more that you were genuinely glad you came. He tried to talk to you during the breaks but each time he’d been interrupted either by one of his co-workers or someone in the audience ready to snatch up his attention, Jack too polite to refuse either, although it was honestly starting to make you a little jealous.

Before you knew it, his hour had passed and he was saying goodbye, your chest deflating as he was played out again along with his final guest, your hands a little numb as you gave him his well deserved applause. You didn’t want to get up and leave as the rest of the people around you did without hesitation, a chorus of yawns starting to infect everyone like a virus now that it was officially bedtime. You were rooted to the spot, hands clasped in your lap as you wondered if it’d be too presumptuous to assume that maybe he’d come back out again when everyone was gone, wish you your own personal goodnight, people staring again as you waited until you accepted that you’d fulfilled his request, there was no need to stay now.

‘Oh good, you’re still here,’ Jack panted as he jogged over to you, a sheen on his cheeks and forehead from the excitement of the night mixed in with the hot stage lights, ‘I was worried you’d leave when Leo grabbed me just now.’

‘I’m in no hurry,’ you told him as you stood, your clasped hands hiding behind your back so he wouldn’t see you fidgeting. ‘It was a great show, I had a lot of fun tonight.’

His smile turned from Showman Jack to Genuine Jack at that, your ability to always tell coming in handy yet again as you tried to hide your blush by tucking your hair behind your ear. ‘I take it you had a more enjoyable time with me than at Haig’s, then?’ he asked, your blushing deepening at his choice of words.

‘I did, yeah.’ Everyone was packing up for the night around you, no one giving you a passing glance as the desire to get home and sleep overtook their curiosity, and when he stifled a yawn you couldn’t help but feel a bit guilty at keeping him. ‘All good things must come to an end though, I suppose; I should really get heading back, it’ll be a nightmare to find a cab this late.’ You didn’t want to go, but you also didn’t want to press your luck either, and maybe you’d get another invitation to another show, who knew?

‘I could give you a ride, if you wanted,’ he offered, completely catching you off guard as your eyes widened for a second in surprise. ‘Or, if you’re truly a night owl like me, you’d prefer to join me for a drink? I always grab one after a show, can’t sleep otherwise.’

You swallowed, mouth cotton dry as you went over his offer in your head a few times; was he asking you out on a date? He had to have been, who else went out to get a drink together at 1AM other than people on dates, right? ‘Yeah, a drink sounds great,’ you finally managed to squeak out, the corners of his eyes scrunching when he smiled before offering his arm for you to take, a true gentleman. He led you back through the labyrinth until you reached the parking lot, his car parked in a spot with his name plastered against the wall behind it, most of the other cars already gone now that their owners were free.

His car was simple, nothing too flashy like someone else in his position would own, the seats worn on the inside and telling you that he must’ve had it for many years. You tried not to look too nervous as he unlocked his door and let himself in, his long body stretching across the front so he could unlock the passenger side as well; an old car indeed, he was taking very good care of it for it to still look that good. You thanked him as you sat down and shut the door, the smell of his cologne stealing your breath away as you were surrounded by purely him, the faint smell of smoke mixing in with it, your eyes fluttering shut as you tried not to look too obvious.

He shot you a glance as he clicked his seatbelt into place, the noise making you come back to your senses and do the same so he could start driving. There were quite a few bars around there, some late night diners as well, and you grew more and more confused as he drove by all of them without a word. By the time you left the city and started to head towards a more residential area, you were starting to wonder if you were going for a drink at all, not remembering ever telling him where you lived, of course this neighborhood was much too nice, maybe you should be flattered if he thought you lived around here.

‘Are we still…?’ you tried to ask, your question dying out as he then turned into the driveway of a very nice but modestly sized house, all the lights off inside telling you that no one was home. He didn’t turn off the engine though, his eyes on the wheel before he turned to you, a hopeful something in his eyes that mirrored your own.

‘Would you like to come inside? Or should we try calling that cab?’ he asked you gently, giving you the choice of what you wanted to do now that you knew where you’d be drinking, your heart thumping a little faster as you adjusted the strap of your purse and flashed him the most confident smile you could muster.

‘You did promise to tell me all about the shows I miss,’ you reminded him, Jack’s smile softening as he agreed with a, ‘Yes I did.’ The engine shut off and you both exited the car, the night air making you shiver as you held your coat a little tighter over your arms. He noticed immediately, his suit jacket draped over you before you could confirm or deny you wanted it, heat spreading throughout you as the scent of his cologne hit you even harder. You wrapped yourself up in it, face tucked into the collar as you headed for his front door, always a few steps behind until he unlocked the door and pushed it open, allowing you to go in first.

It was a modest place, decorated more cozily than anything, and you felt right at home as you stepped inside and took a look around; the walls held photos of family and friends, his coworkers and people he’d met through Night Owls spaced out around them, the surfaces of every table and shelf decorated with something and filling the space while also feeling sparse. Cozy was definitely the right word, but it also felt like a bachelor pad in the way he’d left clothes draped over the back of the couch, how the kitchen was pristinely clean from rare use based on the amount of menus he’d collected into the holder by his phone, and the dedicated minibar off in the corner so he could entertain guests.

He headed there now as you observed your surroundings, his voice breaking your thoughts as he asked you to pick your poison. You gave him your desired drink request, Jack’s eyes shining as he located the bottle amongst the plethora of them in his reserve, whisky placed next to it as he located a couple of glasses next. ‘Ice?’ he asked casually as he poured both drinks, you kindly refusing as he grabbed a couple for himself. The ice crackled in his glass as he returned, the sound pleasant to you and filling the air as he handed you your drink. ‘I’d offer you a seat at the table, but my back is killing me tonight, if you’d rather join me on the couch?’

What a liar, you could always tell when he was acting. You accepted anyways, pretending to buy into it as you both took opposite ends of the old leather couch situated in front of his fireplace. The cushions creaked underneath as you sat down, Jack letting out a sigh that didn’t sound fake as he relaxed, his body sinking right in before he took a sip and turned to look at you. You blushed and looked away, focusing on your glass as you swirled the contents around, now wishing for ice since watching it would be a good distraction.

You’d been so focused on his home that it was starting to dawn on you that you were in his home, on his couch, drinking his liquor, his focus on nothing and no one other than you. ‘Dreamer, here, awake,’ you whispered softly under your breath, remembering what Haig had said to snap you out of it and needing to make sure this wasn’t just another dream.

‘What was that?’

Oh god, it wasn’t a dream, you were really here, and his arm was now on the back of the couch, casually reaching towards you as he tilted his head to the side with an amused grin.

‘So, how did the shows that I missed go?’ you quickly choked out, Jack chuckling at how your voice sounded way more broken than you’d wanted before downing the rest of his drink and setting the empty glass on the coffee table in front of him.

‘Well, on Monday I got to interview someone about his upcoming play, so that was interesting,’ he began, his body turned more towards you as he spoke. ‘On Tuesday, we had a man who sailed halfway around the world and narrowly survived being shipwrecked, and he read us an excerpt from his captain’s log, which he revealed he’ll be turning into a book to preserve the memories of his shipmates.’ He slid a little down the leather, genuine interest in his eyes as he spoke, that another thing you loved about him. ‘Wednesday was Game Night, as you know, and one of our audience members managed to win the jackpot and gave us a victory dance to celebrate. Gus tried to attempt it and fell on his ass, so everyone made me try it and I nearly crashed into my stage, everyone had a lot of fun that night.

His voice started to soften as he moved a little closer, your body frozen in both awe at what you’d missed and also the sight of him starting to fill up your entire view, your drink forgotten in your hands.

‘And then on Thursday we took a call from a man who thought he had superpowers, can you believe that? He truly believed he got them from another dimension, so fascinating.’ He was just about to slide over the middle cushion, your legs pressing tightly together so you wouldn’t touch him on accident, your lip worried between your teeth again. ‘I asked him to come on the show, but he hung up, I hope he calls again next week.’ His arm was completely behind you you finally noticed as his thumb brushed against your shoulder just enough for you to feel it over your coat and his suit jacket, the heat of both starting to make you sweat as he stayed just outside your personal space, ever the gentleman as he waited for you to tell him to back up.

You didn’t, your tongue darting out and tasting your lipstick as you glanced to the side, seeing just enough of him to know that he didn’t look dangerous, or overly sexual like your fantasy had been, his actual expression one of wonder as he remained just out of reach. You felt like you had to comment on his week, say something in response to what he was telling you but you couldn’t, the sound of his thumb running over the fabric directly in your ear as you finally took your first sip.

‘Sounds like I missed a lot,’ you eventually said, Jack nodding and shifting as he got comfier, the movement sending him a little closer to you. ‘Maybe you should invite me back again, I could probably make time for that.’

‘I’ll have to see if I can get you an actual ticket this time, then, Leo was very unhappy I snuck you in.’ His voice was so low as you took another, bigger sip, his arm sliding off the back of the couch and just barely resting against the very bottom of your neck.

‘Is that what that was? I’ll be sure to use the front door next time.’ Another sip, his other hand in plain sight on his thigh as it traveled down towards you.

‘I think I’d prefer to escort you in myself, so you don’t get lost, it’s like a maze in there.’ You watched his hand just barely touch the hem of his jacket, a soft hum leaving his throat as his eyes half-lidded. ‘You look good in this, I might have to let you borrow it more often.’

‘You assume I’ll need it again? How presumptuous of you,’ you joked in an attempt to keep things light, but it fell flat as you looked at him while you said it, his expression rendering you speechless in seconds. Now that you were facing him he couldn’t resist the urge to touch your cheek, his fingertips just barely brushing against you and making you shut your eyes as you tried to lean against them, the contact causing shivers to run down your spine at how incredibly gentle it was.

‘I really am glad you came tonight,’ he whispered as he leaned in, breath soft against your face as you both held off from closing the gap, ‘god, you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.’

You nearly dropped the glass, Jack placing his hand over yours to make sure you didn’t before taking it away entirely. ‘Y-you’re just telling me what I wanna hear,’ you repeated from your fantasy, Jack leaning away to set the glass down before letting his forehead rest against your own.

‘Is it working?’

You grabbed onto his tie and pulled him into you, your mouths crashing together as you kissed him with all the need of someone who’d wanted this for years. He braced himself on the back of the couch as you leaned against the arm, your body arching up as he rearranged how he was sitting to kneel over you. He wasn’t as forward as your fantasy, which was understandable considering you knew very well that he’d only acted the exact way you wanted, but instead you discovered that he was slow, making as many points of contact as he could while giving you space. He was obsessed with kissing away the rest of your lipstick but he never tried to take more than you were giving him, your bodies still too far apart as he caressed you.

‘You’re so beautiful,’ he repeated as his hand left your jaw to travel down to your hip, not to hold down or make you keen but just to feel the soft curve of your body; he was committing you to memory, tracing over each wrinkle in the fabric, each place that made you squirm just a little.

‘Jack…’ you sighed as he pushed both coats aside to gently kiss at your neck, small things that made you want beyond the sweetness, the love. ‘Don’t make me wait anymore, please…’

He pressed a single kiss to your jaw at that, sitting back just enough so he could look at your face. You turned away, embarrassed by your neediness, but he turned you back to him with only a whisper of a touch, a plea instead of a command. ‘How long have you been waiting?’ he asked, lips hovering just above yours, pulling away when you tried to close the gap.

‘Years.’

He kissed you again, a little rougher this time as his own need was made clear, his body shifting down until he was laying himself on top of you, and for however real your fantasy had felt, it was fucking nothing compared to the weight of him pressing pure want directly into your waist. It made you gasp how good he felt, your legs spreading until your skirt wouldn’t stretch any further, the desire to hike it up all the way so you could feel him a little better making you almost actually do it. It was him who made that move when he felt you struggling, your legs pressed into his almost uncomfortably, and he placed his hands at the hem and waited for your okay, not wanting to do anything without your permission.

What a fucking gentleman.

You nodded and he lifted your skirt, your back arching off the couch so it could be bunched up, your underwear on display just the smallest amount before your skirt was let go. That small amount made him blush, his lips parting as he then palmed himself to ease the strain of his own clothes, his nice suit pulled taut over his dick as he kneaded. It made you want him even more, the fantasies of seeing him like that deciding to play like the world’s longest and lewdest film in your mind, reminding you of every single thing you wanted to do to him, what you wanted him to do to you.

‘I want to feel you,’ you told him, his eyes fluttering shut like the quicktalking showman Mr. Midnight couldn’t handle a bit of dirty talk; he was so cute it almost hurt as he moved his hand aside for you, granting you access to the space while he tried to undo his belt. You rubbed him over his pants, listening to the sounds he was making and letting your desire grow with each one, and when his belt was undone and his zipper was down you tugged just his pants over his hips just enough to show off his bulge a little better. It strained over the opening, the sight so tantalizing that you’d risk staying hypnotized forever if this really was just another dream, his body laying down over yours again as you wrapped your leg around him.

He started to grind against you, the fantasy definitely not doing him justice as a sinful heat warmed you up in an instant, the coats much too hot as you tried to strip them both off. He helped you but didn’t stop moving, each thrust just enough to create the best friction you’d ever experienced. There was no audience this time, no one to risk ruining this for you, and you took full advantage of that as you let out a deviously loud moan when he rubbed against you just right.

‘God…’ he panted into your neck, hips moving just a little faster, and it felt good but it wasn’t what you wanted, not entirely. You reached down between where your bodies touched to try and get a hold of his boxers, your nails catching over the waistband just out of reach. He felt your attempts and knew what you were trying to do, his face unsure even though he still couldn’t stop. ‘Are you sure?’ he needed to know, his hips finally stilling for the most part, your eyes watering with how much you meant it as you told him yes. He groaned as he reached between your legs, feeling your wetness seeping through your panties as you moved against him, your head instantly falling back.

The sounds you let out were indecent, he wasn’t even inside you yet and he was making you fall apart just because it was him who was doing this, his fingers rewriting your brain and telling you that you’d never be able to get off on just your imagination ever again. He played with you as his other hand pushed his boxers down the rest of the way, his dick falling free and making him hiss as he gave himself a few strokes, the sound getting you to look up. Your legs twitched as you almost came just from the sight alone, his eyes shut tight as his head lolled to the side, his impressive length looking even bigger in his hand as he got himself ready.

As soon as he felt your eyes on him he locked onto you, his big, showman smile showing a little more teeth than usual as he let you watch, his own sounds almost addicting as he let you know exactly how good his own hand felt. Between the sight and his hands making the both of you feel good, you didn’t know how much more you could take of this before you were shoving him down, Jack sensing your desperation and leaning back over you. He pulled aside your panties and rubbed you a couple more times before pressing his waist against yours, spreading your wetness along the underside of his shaft, grinding against you this way until you were practically begging him to do more, please.

He chuckled at your reaction before taking himself in hand again, spreading it even more before holding himself up to your entrance, one last chance to back out. You made sure to lock eyes with him as you grabbed his tie and pulled him down to you once more, your mouth falling open as he pushed deep inside of you the more you pulled. You didn’t stop until you were full, the two of you panting into each other's mouth before he started to move, both of your legs wrapping around him this time as you tried to take him even deeper.

It was hot, you were sweating, you could see the sheen on his cheeks and forehead again as he suffered in the almost entirety of his suit versus your outfit, and you helped him relieve some of his suffering as you started to unbutton his shirt. You shoved it off one shoulder before he was tearing it off of himself and tossing it away, your own shirt pushed up to reveal a heaving stomach, muscles working hard under the flesh as he thrust into you, your body unable to move with him thanks to the arm of the couch keeping you in place.

It ensured he always hit the deepest part of you since your body couldn’t shift away, one of your hands on your stomach while the other took his own and placed it on your chest. He began to knead you over your bra, it soon out of the way as he yanked it down and wrapped his mouth around a nipple, his motions speeding up a bit as you tangled your now free hand into his hair. ‘You feel so good,’ you couldn’t stop yourself from saying then, starting to get overstimulated, and at your words he jerked a little erratically, like it’d made him stumble. ‘You- you were so handsome tonight, did so well, I couldn’t stop staring at you…’

He was moaning nonsense into your chest as you praised him, something about what you were saying making him fall apart; his head rested against you as he rutted into you with wild abandon, your hands just holding him there as you kept whispering what he wanted to hear. You meant it, every word, but to know that this much was making him practically whine against you was also addicting, needing him to know everything you felt for him, how proud you were of him, how you’d never be able to feel anyone but him for the rest of your life.

‘Come inside me, make me yours, I want to be yours,’ you pleaded, Jack grasping at you like a drowning man grasps at his saviour, a few more thrusts making your head fall back before he did just that. His hips jutted a few more times as warmth filled your insides, the sensation mixed with his broken gasps bringing you over the edge as well, his nails digging into your flesh where he held you, your hands thoroughly messing up his perfectly styled hair. When he was done he collapsed against you, his weight once again so incredibly nice as he pinned you against the cushions, the leather sticking to your skin and keeping you very much in place.

‘If I’m too heavy-’ he started to say before he shifted and cut himself off with a whine, his attempts to get up thwarted immediately.

‘You’re not,’ you reassured him, your fingers attempting to straighten his hair back into place, a small courtesy for him letting you grab him so hard in the first place. ‘We can just… stay a while.’

‘Do you wanna risk that? I might fall asleep on you like this,’ he asked like it’d be a bad thing; what a gentleman.

‘I think that’d be worth the risk,’ you told him as you kissed his forehead, Jack reaching up to cup your cheek before gathering all his strength to kiss you goodnight.

#Ray's Readers #Ray's Requests #david dastmalchian #jack delroy #jack delroy x reader #after the sheer STRESS of today I need a lil smut writing time to chill out with #too bad it took me way to long to actually finish this cause stuff kept happening #it's been a very busy day for me whoo #correction it is now the next day that's how long it took me to work on this TwT

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buckevantommy · 2 months

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Arranged marriage and online friends au! 😊

Buck realises after two months of emailing back and forth that he doesn't actually know what Tommy looks like. And it's bugging him.

It's not like he wasn't aware of it before; Tommy has been a faceless presence across the digital void, features interchangeable with B-role actors and strangers on the street until Buck had given up trying to put someone else's likeness to someone unlike anyone he's ever met. Still technically hasn't.

After this long, he considers Tommy a friend. Buck just wishes he could put a face to the words.

There have been context clues helping piece together an image of what he might look like - brown hair (at least no one noticed the mud in my hair. I'll have to make sure to schedule time for a shower next time I want to take Annie for a jog in the park before a work event), defined muscles (not that lugging around spare car parts isn't its own workout, but I do have a standing appointment with my trainer to get to. I'm sorry I have to cut this short), tall (Granted, it's easier to get a good look at an engine when you have the height to bend over and not lose your footing) - but no descriptions and definitely no photos (unless you count the pics of his rescue dog Annie and a cameo appearance of his sneakers, which Buck wants to but they don't exactly fill in the blanks).

It probably doesn't matter. It's not like they're ever going to meet in person - Buck is on the west coast and Tommy's on eastern time. They can't just casually meet up for coffee when there's a dozen states between them.

He's not sure Tommy would even want to. Because while Tommy has tossed a few crumbs of his appearance Buck's way over the past eight and a half weeks, Tommy doesn't have to wonder about Buck in return. Because Buck had linked his insta account in his second email. It was the quickest way to show Tommy the state of his beloved Wrangler Renegade given he was at work and it was currently taking up space in Eddie's yard. Tommy sure knows his engines, even from photos that likely didn't show the whole story. With Bobby and Eddie's help (and with Chris being more help than Eddie) they managed to pinpoint the problem thanks to Tommy - something multiple mechanics couldn't nail down let alone fix, instead giving Buck the same excuse of how an old engine with that many miles was bound to give up the ghost sooner or later.

Buck took the jeep up the coast for the first time on his recent 48 off - the first time since his cross-country tour led him to the 118 and a few weeks in she'd stalled out and hadn't been the same since. But there was no sputtering, no chugging fits, no weird noises. Just miles of highway being eaten up under her wheels.

And he couldn't even picture the face of the person he wanted to thank. Maybe it was silly, or petty, but Buck couldn't shake his annoyance at Tommy having never sent him a photo of himself. He totally gets the anonymity of the internet, especially with forums, but he really thought they were becoming friends. Thought they'd keep emailing even if they managed to fix the Renegade.

He also hadn't heard from Tommy in over a week, so maybe that was adding to his irritation. And worry. As soon as they got her running smoothly, Buck posted a video of the jeep to insta and sent Tommy the link. He posted a few more pics of her on the road north and thanked him in the caption:

couldn't have done it without your help T 🌅🚙💻🛠️

Tommy knows how much this jeep means to him, and the more Buck thinks about it the more certain he is that the radio silence isn't like Tommy. He was looking forward to an update! It was the last thing he wrote: Keep me updated!, exclamation mark and all. Maybe he had to go away suddenly for work. Or his computer died. Or his email got hacked. Maybe something happened to him - he could be hurt, or sick, or worse. Maybe he read your emails and saw your posts and knows he fixed the problem so now he's done with you.

Buck stews in that thought longer than he should. It's not impossible, it just. Hurts. He likes Tommy. And screw distance - he wants to keep emailing and getting to know each other. Maybe Buck will get called out east for a nautral disaster (okay, not a great reason) or some kind of specialty training program. Or Tommy will travel out west for work.

Work which he's been pretty vague about, come to think of it. Buck doesn't actually know what he does - some kind of office-type job, going by the mentions of suits and gladhanding. Tommy knows Buck is a firefighter in L.A., but the nature of Tommy's work has been left mostly up to Buck's imagination. Maybe he's a special agent. Or a criminal. Or in witness protection. Or maybe the thought of a secretive existence helps soothe the ache of his abandonment issues; Tommy would reach out if he could but extenuating cirumstances are stopping him.

It happens to be a q-word shift which means no calls to distract him. Pocketing his phone, Buck sinks into the couch and turns on the tv desperate for something to take his mind off Tommy. Taylor Kelly is reporting from the studio these days, no longer chasing stories with a cameraman in a shady white van.

"..And now to political news. Vice President Kinard today announced the long-awaited engagement of his son to the eldest daughter of prominent Senator Olivia Ortiz. Thomas Kinard is the Vice President's only child, and the union is expected to strengthen ties.."

As Taylor talks, photos overlay on-screen: a professional family portrait complete with closed-mouth smiles; a young man - Thomas Kinard - in a khaki flightsuit standing in front of a military chopper; a college graduation gown.

"..Thomas Kinard minored in Mechanical Engineering.."

Another image: tall and broad and now with a mop of brown curls competing in a marathon and helping someone cross the finish line with their arm slung over his shoulders.

It's a minor detail. He doesn't even know why he notices. But Buck's eyes are drawn to his sneakers: Thomas is wearing a black pair with white half-trim and a reflective trapezoid on the heel. Not anything unusual, except that the guy he's helping is wearing a neon yellow pair that somehow didn't catch Buck's attention.

The next image shows an animal shelter and a small crowd of volunteers in candid and posed photos. In one of the candid shots, Thomas can be seen crouching to pet a familiar looking dog.. Annie.

No fucking way.

"..Tommy?"

doing this thing

#evantommy #bucktommy #fanfiction #fic fodder #ask meme #asks #.txt #kneazle #oh hey look - i added an au to your prompt 😅👑#imagining the presidency is like royalty with arranged marriages meant to strengthen political ties

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dreadfutures · 2 months

Text

wrote this up in a flurry after this post today

This is noncanonical but based on vibes and certain things from the DA4 stuff + Tevinter Nights, so if you’re wary of that, stay out! :)

For @dadrunkwriting

AU: #shadows in the sun: first lifetime!Ixchel Lavellan survives her poison and continues to fight.

- Ixchel has been incredibly depressed since Corypheus’s defeat. Few people, if any, have seen her smile in the past several years. Ixchel was trained as a two-handed Champion in DAI. - unnamed Crow Rook for this one is she/her I guess. - shameless Princess Bride reference.

It had been Rook’s idea when they first all got together: each member of the team had unique strengths, unique skills, and they needed to share. Emmrich and Bellara shared a day, but Neve, Harding, Taash, Lucanis, Davrin, and Rook had their own time to hold the team captive and impart their skills one way or another. Emmrich and Bellara’s lessons skewed to the academic—or esoteric, at least—in regards to the challenges the Veilguard faced across Thedas and in battle, while the others tended to focus on combat.

Rook supposed she had done a good job of instilling discipline in the team, because despite the Inquisitor’s surprise arrival the night before, everyone had gathered in the dining hall bright and early for Lucanis’s hour of instruction. The table and chairs had been cleared to give them space to spar, presumably, and he had scrounged up a bunch of practice swords from… somewhere. Perhaps their last trip to Minrathous? Or maybe he’d had Davrin whittle them to shape.

Either way, Lucanis had set aside the knives for this week’s lesson and was going to put them through their paces in dueling. It wasn’t really Rook’s cup of tea; her role as a Crow usually saw her in protection details, or infiltrating marks’ inner circles in far less flashy ways. But like any good Crow, a rapier felt at home in her hand and she was not about to let Lucanis Dellamorte accuse her of growing rusty.

One thing Rook had offered to get her team on board with the potentially embarrassing and exhausting training schedule was that Rook would always go first. Break the ice, make a fool of herself, serve as an example, whatever it might be for the day.

Today’s session began with a surprisingly polite duel. Lucanis went slow, using her as an example and pausing frequently to explain things to the rest of the crew. Every time he gave her that look, she dutifully froze, and tried not to let it show how her heart swelled with pride and something else when he pointed out aspects of her stance or how she had struck her blows.

By the end she was quite ready for a real duel, but Lucanis simply gave her a cordial bow and beckoned Neve up for her turn.

Disappointed, Rook went to go get some water from the pitcher someone had brought, and as she straightened up again she was surprised to find the Inquisitor watching their lesson from the doorway. No one had noticed her, apparently, but she was not making any particular effort to be hidden. After a moment of debate, Rook went over to greet her.

“They’ve taken to calling him a mage killer,” Ixchel Lavellan mused in her raspy voice, not looking away from the training session even once. “They give you a fun name?”

Rook scoffed. “They don’t do such things for someone from the cuchillos.”

Ixchel’s eyebrows raised by just a hair, lashes flickering only slightly. She still kept her milky eyes—the eyes of a dead woman, Rook was still unnerved by them—on the lesson. “But you’re not just someone from the cuchillos,” she said. “Not if you’re here.”

Rook shrugged at that. “You were at one point just someone,” she said. “So they say.”

“So they say,” Ixchel echoed and fell silent. Rook understood the conversation was over, but she stayed there at the Inquisitor’s side for the remainder of the training session. It felt… wrong, to leave the Herald of Andraste to stand by herself in the back of a room with no pomp or circumstance.

Rook’s presence at the door did draw the eyes of the others after a while, and it was amusing to see how their spines straightened when they realized just who was watching.

The only person who didn’t immediately start to sweat was Harding, who by rights should have been the most nervous, going last. Rook didn’t know Harding’s full history with the Inquisitor, but she had heard the Inquisitor threaten Harding were she to ever talk about “the elfroot thing,” so Rook assumed the two young women knew each other at a level far beyond the facade of Herald.

Harding performed excellently with Lucanis, who had truly put everyone through their paces. Lucanis even gave her a rare compliment: “Quick study!” that made Harding snicker.

She wiped sweat from her eyes and shot a breathless grin over at Lavellan. “Gotta be quick to keep up with her,” she said good-naturedly.

“See, that’s why I slowed down,” Lavellan quipped in return. She shifted her weight coolly from one side to the other, raising her short left arm with a teasing air. “Got to give everyone a fighting chance.”

“Oh really?” Harding asked, putting one hand on her hip. “I don’t believe that for a second, ‘Chel. C’mon.”

Before anyone could react, she had tossed the practice sword across the room—and Ixchel Lavellan caught it in her right hand.

“Good luck, buddy,” Harding said cheerfully to Lucanis, who frowned in confusion.

Ixchel’s first step had a note of hesitance in it, but it seemed that one step was enough to convince her not to back down. She shouldered past Harding without a trace of hard feelings, making Harding grin, and squared off with Lucanis.

Harding took her place by Rook. “Don’t go easy on her, Dellamorte,” Harding called. “And I know he’s pretty, Lavellan, but don’t go easy on him either.”

Lucanis put a hand on his chest and gave Harding a sweeping bow. “I accept the compliment. I think.”

“In guardia?” Ixchel asked, the tip of her wooden sword hanging supernaturally still in the air. Even Taash’s had floated, uncertain of what mark to take; Lavellan had chosen hers and would not waver. Her arm was strong, Rook noted.

Rook also noted that Ixchel was practiced in Antivan.

“Never leave a lady waiting, Dellamorte,” Rook called. “What would your grandmother say?”

Lucanis gave her a dirty look but quickly turned his attention back to Ixchel.

“In guardia,” Rook said loudly, and Lucanis took up his position. “Pronti?” The duelists nodded each. “A voi.”

The Inquisition’s money had not gone to waste, Rook thought as the duel began; they had afforded some of the best combat instructors—and language teachers, and etiquette lessons, and probably everything—to make the Inquisitor into a force to be reckoned with on any stage or field. Even in skirts as she wore now, she moved with confidence and sure feet and never became entangled. Her reflexes were lightning quick, responding with both precision and grace to every salvo and overture Lucanis pitched.

“Lucky that she didn’t lose her dominant hand,” Rook said quietly, and Harding made a surprised sound.

“Oh, no,” she said. “Inquisitor Lavellan was left handed.” She gave Rook a laughing smile. “I’ll be sure to let her know you couldn’t tell. She’ll be stoked.”

Rook stared at the fight with new appreciation, nay, admiration. Lucanis and Ixchel had each scored a point, and both had fixed expressions of deadly concentration on their faces as they sought the upper hand. It was hard to track the movement of Ixchel’s eyes, clouded over from what Rook had been told was some illness, but apparently it made no difference to her ability to see; in contrast, Lucanis’s eyes darted all over the place, imagining where blows could begin and end, ready for any inevitability. He flitted about like a bird, but Ixchel moved like the breeze that carried him and blocked every move.

It took a few more trades for Rook to realize Lucanis had indeed stopped holding back. His thrusts were more decisive, carried more weight behind them, but it made no difference. Ixchel’s footwork was solid, and her parries exacting.

Someone had trained her very well indeed.

Ixchel batted aside Lucanis’s next blow and then stepped closer, foot hooking behind his ankle to tug him briefly off-balance. He landed flat-footed with his arm outstretched and Ixchel tucked neatly against his chest, her rapier choked beneath his chin.

By all rights, the match was won, but Ixchel simply blew a stray lock of his hair out of his face, then spun away under his arm and took up her position just a sword’s length away, ready for another round.

Lucanis was starting to breathe heavily, and when he sank into a stance now, it was not the formal academic dueling stance he had been practicing with before.

Ixchel adjusted her grip with a smirk that twisted her scarred face gruesomely, tossing her hair.

“A voi,” she said herself, and Lucanis launched at her like a hawk whistling toward its prey.

“Oh-ho, there she is!” Harding crowed, and the rest of the Veilguard turned to gawk at her for a moment before gluing themselves back to the match. But Rook knew what Harding meant, and why the shock of it all had overcome her to the point of shouting. This wasn’t the practice duel it had started as—it wasn’t even an exhibition. This was a no-holds-barred sparring match.

A legend against a legend.

“You must expect me to attack with Capoferro,” Lucanis teased, lunging forward with his arm extended.

“Naturally,” Ixchel replied quickly, stepping off the line of his strike, “but I find that Thibault cancels out Capoferro.”

She gave Lucanis’s free hand, extended for balance, a whap on the knuckles for good measure, and he swiftly drew his arm behind his back. Ixchel grinned now that they were matched, arm for arm, and went on a swift offensive. She drove Lucanis back several steps before he caught a second wind, ducking under her arm to drive his sword toward her undefended rib.

Both of Ixchel’s feet left the floor as she threw herself around his side, staying firmly out of reach of his blade and never once giving him her back even as she placed herself at his.

She could not get far behind him, and he twisted lithely on the spot to thrust up again at her from his almost-kneeling position. She stepped closer, narrowly dodging the tip of his blade, and brought her elbow down on the soft spot between his shoulder and neck.

He grunted in pain but did not buckle, executing instead an elegant backward roll to put more space between them.

“You have a lot of tricks, for a Chevalier,” he said, the strain in his voice perhaps evident only to Rook.

Ixchel threw her head back and laughed. It was a surprisingly girlish sound and reminded Rook that the Herald was young, younger than Harding. The suspicious jab from Lucanis hit Ixchel like the height of flattery, and as her laughter eased, the smile on her face was genuine.

“You’re not the first Crow who’s tried to take down the Inquisitor,” she said, wiping her temple on her the sleeve of her lost arm. “And I am no Chevalier.” Her smile turned fierce as she squared off again. “I am a Champion.”

A subtle motion at Rook’s side drew her gaze, and she found Harding covering her mouth. Her eyes were shining with tears, but she was trying to hide a smile.

She caught Rook looking and blinked rapidly. “No one’s heard her laugh in years,” she whispered. “I haven’t seen her smile in… In…”

She glanced back at Ixchel, who was utterly focused on wearing Lucanis’s stamina down with unrelenting, precise, and forceful advances.

“Since the Exalted Council?” Rook guessed quietly.

“Since Corypheus,” Harding admitted.

Rook’s blood went cold at the thought of so many mirthless years—a thought made even heavier by the grief in Harding’s own voice. “We did our best,” Harding said. “We’re really friends, but… No matter what friends you add, they never replace the ones you lose, do they? And she… lost more than most. Every friend she’d ever had.”

Pieces of the puzzle named Ixchel Lavellan, the Dalish Herald of Andraste, leader of a Chantry Inquisition, were slotting into place in Rook’s mind, and she did not like the picture. “That was ten years ago,” Rook murmured. “She was just a kid.”

“We both were,” Harding admitted. “But I had a family to write home to, a place to return to if I wanted after everything was over, and she— she…”

“Had nothing.”

Rook clenched her fists.

At one point in her life, she would have considered the Crows her family. No matter what personal grief might befall her out in the field, as long as she did her job, she had open arms to return to.

That time in her life was over. The Crows viewed her as nothing more than a tool to be discarded when her usefulness ran out, and she was glad to be out from under any contracts or expectations from her House. The Veilguard looked to her as a leader, yes, but as a friend too—a friend whose affection and support wasn’t contingent on continued usefulness.

When this was all over, Rook had started to have fond thoughts of the life she’d lead. Maybe she’d go dragon hunting with Taash. Or check out that whole cheese farming situation Harding had joked about.

She had options. Comfortable options. Confident options.

But Rook knew what had happened to the Inquisitor after the Inquisition. How she had arrived to the Exalted Council unaccompanied. How one by one her former allies had departed for parts unknown, or to take up positions of influence across Thedas.

How she had left the Council robbed of her arm and her power and returned to a Skyhold soon to be emptied.

Lucanis and Ixchel tumbled to the ground with a pair of surprised and delighted shouts. Rook had been so lost in thought that she hadn’t seen who’d won, but they were helping each other up now, dusting off—Lucanis caught Rook staring, and sent a smile her way over the top of the Inquisitor’s head.

The Inquisitor had slowed to a stop, her shoulders hunched mid-way as she froze just before straightening. She had only just realized how everyone in the Veilguard was gaping at her.

Her eyes swept across their upturned faces, to Rook, and then to Lace. An inscrutable emotion clouded her torn face, and she swiftly turned, gave Lucanis a bow, and handed him her practice sword—before sweeping out of the room.

“I’ll go talk to her,” Harding said, and rushed out after her.

“Alright, team,” Rook said without pause. “Good work today. Go clean up, we’ll take lunch, and then put our heads together about that intel we got about the Qun’s research.”

With such a no-nonsense tone, it was no surprise the Veilguard heeded her immediately. They scrambled, leaving Lucanis to pick up the practice swords and reset the dining room by himself.

Rook considered leaving, given how their last private encounter had gone, but… It would be rude, and she still couldn’t bring herself to be outright rude to Lucanis Dellamorte. She allowed herself a small sigh before she re-affixed her teasing smile and sauntered over to Lucanis to ask him who the real winner had been.

#da drunk writing circle #shadows in the sun #lucanis dellamorte #da4 ixchel lavellan #lace harding

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coralpolyp · 4 months

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I'm not dead!

Hey look here's a redraw of the really terrible bit of digital art I did for last year's Mar13 day as proof! Apparently I didn't even finish the first one on time! Yikes!

I'm well aware that it's been a minute or two since I last posted anything on here or on AO3 - to be more precise, it's been since Splatoon 1 died and I wrote that 8000 word depressing thing - I don't know why 8000 words always seems to be my sweet spot, but it's good to know that I have one. That being said, and with Side Order: Dark Side Mix currently MIA, I thought it'd be a good idea to to have what it is that I'm doing right now on-record in some capacity, for the one or two people who were wondering.

The next few weeks are exam season, so I don't think it's going to be smooth sailing per se, but Dark Side Mix will be completed. After running into a snag with the opening act - namely with the fact that it sucks - I started reworking the entire fic from top to bottom under a new name...and then I lost motivation to do that because perfectionism set in, and I haven't really touched it in a little while.

In the time that I've been away from it, I feel like I've become increasingly aware of how that perfectionism negatively effects me and my work - namely the fact that very little of it actually exists. I mean, sure, people seem to like the stuff that does exist, but there isn't much, and a lot of things are unfinished - usually because I placed too much value on the potential of "the idea", and spent so long labouring over the start of it that by the 10,000 word mark I had realised the flaws of the idea and lost interest in it.

I can't help thinking that's a bit lame. Every other writer has 100s and thousands of words of terrible amateur works they can go back to and laugh at, before they created the masterpieces they're known for now, and my story is that I just kinda show up every once in a while.

I think there's a real beauty to that - creating for the sake of creation, with no fucks given. Maybe this isn't the finest example, but I finally started listening to My Dad Wrote a Porno recently and...I mean... the sheer lack of fucks given is well and truly a gift that keeps on giving. Same goes for Philosophy of the World. Or SMG4 back in like 2014. Or old Eddsworld stuff. There's just a certain carefree joy (or existential dread in the case of the Shaggs) to it all that you never get anywhere else. It's like the difference between a 30 second gesture drawing and 6 hours of carefully-deliberated-over anatomy.

All that is to say - Dark Side Mix is a fundamentally flawed story. It is not high art, it never will be. I should probably just get it out there in it's entirety for the world to see in the time I have available to write, and then move on to the next "brilliant-idea"-that's-actually-just-ok. Nobody likes an "idea guy" - what good is it to spend one's entire life going around saying "I never finished this story, but it was great in my head, and the bit that you can actually read was alright too,"? Creativity should be about getting in there, making a mess, and having fun - let fanfiction be fanfiction, with that being addressed to nobody but myself, because nobody else needed to hear it.

Oh, also, another reason for my absence besides creative block and exams - I'm getting into comics! That, and practising my art fundamentals a whole bunch - I don't think my drawabox is particularly interesting to look at, so I haven't exactly been posting it. I've decided that I want to try giving an idea I had for what would've been another depressing Squid Sister 8000-worder the comic treatment, although you shouldn't expect to see that anytime soon, considering how long it's gonna take, and the fact that I would want to release something like that in no more than two parts.

#splatoon #beginner artist #marie splatoon #splatoon 3 #splatoon fanart #fanart #squid sisters #splatoon fanfiction #splatoon fic #fanfic #fanfiction #ao3 #vent #writer problems

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vanishingstarrs · 1 year

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wish on an eyelash

keigo takami x singer/influencer!reader, established relationship

( this is very much fluff and indulgence, take a shot if you’ve ever thought abt hawks n his eyeliner bc c’mon we all have, it’s hot as shit )

You’d taken your time, setting up your special ring lights and tripod, writing down the questions you’d be answering during your video, and making sure all your makeup supplies were set out in an order that wouldn’t make it obvious which order they went in.

During your last live video, you’d been asked multiple times for your boyfriend to do your makeup for a video.

Now, your boyfriend was a busy man (being the number two hero and all), but your audience had been requesting his presence in a video for some time now and you had to admit the idea sounded quite fun. Keigo was always welcome to your ideas, happy to show up during your lives if your fans asked where he was and eager to help you with your set ups whenever you were going to film something new. He’d actually done a voice over for you once a few months back (your fans had went nuts over that) when you lost your voice post concert and you’d promised to get your routine up before a certain point so it shouldn’t be too difficult for him. That, and the fact that he liked to watch you get ready most days.

You’d tweeted out a week earlier for them to send in some questions as a bonus while he did your makeup.

“We ready, baby?”

A pair of familiar hands hugged you around the middle, your boyfriend resting his chin on your shoulder and kissing your cheek repeatedly.

“Just about, you wanna approve the questions we’ll be answering this video?” You asked, holding up the notebook for him to see.

“Nah, I’m an open book, plus I trust you chose appropriate questions.”

“The amount of people that are curious about our sex lives is insane.” You rolled your eyes as you took a seat on the floor and patted the spot next to you for him to sit too.

He glanced at the coffee table, you guessed he was trying to picture the order of things.

You started off the video with your basic greeting that you always used before introducing your boyfriend (as if he needed an introduction) and he grinned as he gave a wave to the camera,“I’ve been looking forward to this all week.”

A nervous smile lit up your face as you clapped your hands together and explained the gist of what your viewers would be seeing today,“As you all have been requesting, Keigo will be doing my makeup for me today. A bunch of you noticed he watches me get ready a lot and said he should be able to do it and—”

“I’d never turn down a challenge.” He cut in, smirking,“Trust me, I got this.”

“For my sake, I really hope so.” You then picked up your notebook,“As a treat so you guys won’t be too bored, I sent out an ask for questions, many of you guys always wonder about our relationship and while we do like to keep things private, we thought a little insider from us couldn’t hurt.”

“Do you know what you’re gonna start with?” You asked your boyfriend and he grinned, surprising you by picking up the correct item.

“You gotta prime your surface first, don’t ya?”

You turned your body toward him instead of facing the camera so he could begin, Keigo placed both hands on your face and kissed your nose before adjusting your position.

“Alright, first question.” He said as he uncapped the primer.

You glanced at your notebook out of your periphery,“How did you and Hawks meet?”

“Of course.” He rolled his eyes playfully as he rubbed the primer in with his fingers, letting it dry while he scanned the table for his next item.

He faced the camera briefly,“We met at the grocery store, we’re boring people, okay?”

“Truth.” You giggled, as you were sure people expected a much more exciting story.

Keigo, now armed with an eyebrow pencil, began running the brush through your brows before slightly marking a few empty spots. You grinned, he knew you so well.

“I’m sure many of you think we met at that gala where I interviewed Keigo on whether he preferred chicken or beef and he said—”

“Take me out to dinner and find out.” He quoted himself from that night.

You laughed,“Sorry to disappoint, but by then we’d actually been on a couple dates and I very much knew the answer to that question, I was asking stuff from his fans. We were pretty lovesick already at that point, I think, and then everyone started shipping us.”

“Unbeknownst to you all, we were seeing everything and just laughing.” Keigo chuckled.

He tapped his chin as he picked up an eyeshadow palette and opened it up to sniff it.

He searched the pile of brushes while you asked the next question,“What was your first date like?”

“Ooh, I have this one!” Keigo dipped his brush into what he guessed was your favorite color based on how much was missing,“Initially, I wanted to fly her to our date spot, but since I happened to know how deathly afraid of heights she was… I knew it wouldn’t happen — not on the first date, I thought — so we took a nice little stroll there, I picked her up and she was wearing a sparkly dress and looked oh so pretty—”

“There’s a picture of me in that outfit up on my accounts, actually, if you know you know.” You commented before he grabbed your chin and instructed for you to close your eyes.

“I took that picture.” He made sure to clarify, and you felt him tap something (glitter, you were guessing) into your inner eyelids as he continued,“Anyway, I had this gazebo set up really nice, lots of lights, flowers, cute shit, and we had dinner and talked the whole night, super romantic. By the end of it, she loved me—”

“Don’t lie!”

“You did, dove, I mean, c’mon, you let me fly you around by the end of it.”

“Okay, I did.” You sighed,“But only because you made me feel like I could really trust you.”

“And have I ever given you any reason to doubt that?” He looked into your eyes and again, you sighed.

“No…”

“Then?”

“Whatever. What’s next?” You pointed at your makeup pile that he was slowly going through, putting aside what he’d already used.

He went through and placed foundation all over your face, making sure to blend it into your neck while you went through a few more questions.

“Who does Hawks’s eyeliner?” You giggled.

Your boyfriend scoffed, facing the camera with a deadpan expression on his face,“Okay, I’m saying this once and only once, much to contrary belief, the ‘eyeliner’?” He rubbed at his eye and even dragged his finger down,“Is not makeup, it’s not a part of my costume or a fun little gimmick, the closest I can get to explaining it is a beauty mark. It’s permanent.”

“You tell ‘em, babe.” You continued to laugh, only to stop as he picked up your actual eyeliner.

“Just for that we’re gonna replicate this on you.”

“Awe.” You pouted,“I can’t pull that off.”

And he knew it too since you only ever applied eyeliner very minimally.

“Shush and hold still.” He paused the step he was on to attempt the new look for your eyes.

“I’d like you all to know, Keigo is very much holding his breath right now and his mouth is wide open, he’s definitely one of us.” You said smugly, an inside joke only those who wore makeup and did anything eye related could understand.

“Hold on, shh.” Your boyfriend paused as he swiped a finger under your eye and held it out to you,“Make a wish.”

This wasn’t a rare occurrence actually, you often lost many eyelashes due to rapid blinking whenever your eyes became strained and he loved for you to make wishes. You often did the same to him; and so you closed your eyes and thought of your wish before blowing away the eyelash.

He grinned and pecked your lips,“So what’d you wish for?”

“Can’t tell you, it won’t come true.”

He pouted, but knew the rules just as well. He finished up his eyeliner and immediately resuming his last step. Now you were the one pouting,“I wanna see.”

“Nope, wait until the end.”

“Boo.”

“Next question, lovebird.”

You continued through the questions until Keigo seemed satisfied enough with your looks, finishing off with a kiss to seal the deal and you smiled,“Done?”

“Mhm.”

“No lipstick?”

“No point.” He shrugged, leaning back on his hands,“I’ll end up eating it all off in a second anyway.”

You didn’t bother correcting him, picking up a mirror to check out the eyeliner that he actually made a little thinner than what his non-eyeliner looked like and you smiled, it didn’t look half bad and he got all the steps right. Though he didn’t do them in the order you did them, they weren’t technically wrong and you looked pretty alright.

As you finished off the video, your boyfriend waved at the tripod and you shut off the camera.

“Well, I’d call that a success.” You smiled at him.

“Great, wanna go get ice cream?” He looked up at you in adoration before teasing,“I wanna show off my hard work.”

You smiled, you already had your wish.

#mha #bnha #my hero academia #keigo takami x reader #hawks

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scarisd3ad · 6 months

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Superstar | football player!Joel miller x popstar!reader

Chapter six - obsessed

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Warnings - mentions of sex, cursing, body image talk, insecurity

Summary - when you find out about a certain football player showing up at your tour you decide to reach out just because of all the dating rumors, but what if thoughs rumors turn into reality?

A/N - it’s finally here, sorry for it being so late! But now that I’ve gotten this out of the way I’m aiming for the first chapter of jump then fall to be out sometime next week! re posting this chapter because my computer deleted the edited copy and I didn't notice till months after it had been published.

The next day I woke up with an empty imprint of where Ollie had been sleeping, Joel's arms wrapped around me in a comforting hold, and about 5 million notifications. Mostly notifications from being tagged in posts and stories, but there were some from friends and family too. Like one from Tara with a screenshot of a 'TMZ' article titled 'popstar y/n l/n photographed with new boyfriend Dallas Cowboys star football player Joel Miller on a post-game drive' paired with a dramatic open-mouthed emoji. I rolled my eyes and sent back a 'stfu' before dropping my phone back onto the mattress.

I turned, hearing the bed frame creak quietly as I admired Joel's sleeping figure. He was lying on his stomach with one arm lazily wrapped around me. His hair was messy, but he still somehow looked flawless. Joel stirred as his phone, which lay on the nightstand on top of his wireless charger, began to ring. It flashed a few times, showing off a picture of his mother and him paired with the contact's name 'momma'. Unfortunately, the phone stopped ringing before Joel could fully wake up, letting him fall back into sleep.

"Joel," I whispered as I took my hand that wasn't tucked underneath myself to shake him. He groaned, his eyes not even opening as he hummed a quiet "What?" as his arm that was once lazily wrapped around me pulled me closer. "When's your mom 'sposed to drop the girls off?" I whispered as his head ducked into the crook of my neck, pressing lazy kisses to the length of it. "Dunno. She has a key. She'll let them in when they get here." My neck muffled his voice as he took a small chunk of neck flesh into his mouth and began to suck at it. "Joel," I giggled as I pushed him away, "can't leave marks, can't have any of that at any of my shows." He rolled his eyes as he pressed his lips to mine.

We were interrupted by the sound of childlike giggles running up the stairs. "Speak of the devil," Joel chuckled as he sat up, preparing to greet his girls. The door was thrown open, revealing Sarah and Ellie. "Daddy!" both squealed as they launched themselves into the bed. "We had pancakes for dinner last night!" Sarah said as she leaned her head against her father's chest. Both girls excitedly told their father what they had done with their grandparents the previous night as he took turns pressing kisses to each one's forehead. I felt like I didn't belong during moments like this, family bonding. I wasn't their mother who could sit back fondly watching with a small smile. I was just some stranger lying in their father's bed. They hardly knew me, and I hardly knew them. Thankfully, a call from my mother was able to whisk me away.

"Hi Mom," I said, standing in the bathroom, phone pressed to my ear as I stared into the mirror. "How are you doing?" she asked, her voice low as if she was trying not to wake someone. "Fine...I'm doing fine." I had another 3 shows in Houston next weekend, so that weekend and that entire week were just about relaxation and mentally preparing for my next 3 shows, which were very physically and mentally demanding sometimes. "Your dad saw you on TV last night. He got real excited seein' you." I wished every older man in his 50s felt like that about me right now. Almost every man from the ages of 16 to 70 was pissed off at me cause they 'saw me too much' last night. I wished I didn't let it get to me, but it did. I put up this strong front like no one's able to hurt my feelings but everything they were saying about me did because, for some odd reason, men thought not liking me meant they were allowed to call me a slut and threaten to kill me if I showed up the next game. I was just glad Joel hadn't seen them yet. "Yeah?" I let out an awkward cough. "Yeah...your dad and I are trying to make it up to Houston next weekend. Dad wants to see you perform again." I smiled, though my father never understood one thing about my interest in music and songwriting, he was always my biggest supporter. "Really?"

"Y/n can you hurry up? I've really got to pee!" I heard Ellie shout from outside the door as my mother asked, "Where are you?" I sighed, unlocking the door and letting Ellie rush in as I rushed out. "Um Joel's house...but I've gotta go, alright? Love you."

I walked back into Joel's bedroom. Both girls were now gone, leaving their father alone to scroll Twitter and find out for himself what was the trending hashtag of the day. #fucky/n. How original. How old were they? This was all immature, coming mostly from men over the age of 20. He was looking down at his phone, brows furrowed in a scowl, finger still swiping. He heard my footsteps and looked up, letting out a quiet "oh." I sighed, arms wrapping around my body. "Who was that?" he asked. "My mom," I replied as I walked over to the bed and took a seat. "You don't gotta go to any of my games again...if you don't want to," he whispered. His head cocked to the side as my brows furrowed. He interpreted my sense of confusion as an answer and said, "Y/N, you're getting death threats."

I shrugged my shoulders. "I've been getting them for the last 5 years. I normally just ignore them." He sighed loudly as if he didn't understand my way of thinking, before changing the subject. "You stayin' for breakfast?" I shook my head. "No. Gotta studio session this morning..." Joel nodded. "Can you keep Ollie for a few hours? The session is early and I'm not gonna have enough time to drop him off at home."

I was in my car, driving down the freeway when I got a call from Will. I had met William early on in my music career. For years, Will and I had been writing music together for his albums and mine, and sometimes even a duet here and there.

"you're late," he said, his voice almost drowned out by the sound of a few people in the background. "I know, sorry. Got held up at Joel's." I could almost hear the eye roll through the phone. Will wasn't the biggest fan of my past boyfriends. It had started with Will hating Andy; he must've seen the red flags before I did. Then he hated Harry because of his reputation of being a 'womanizer', and then there was Tom who he hated simply because he could practically see through him. And now the tradition had gone on to Joel. He didn't have a reason to hate Joel yet, but he'd find one eventually, he always did. "I know, I know, alright. I'll be there in like 5 minutes, okay?"

"Alright, okay, see you in 5," he hung up the phone, leaving me to drive the rest of the way to the studio in silence.

When I get to the studio, a crowd of paparazzi is outside the door waiting for me, and Will is standing by the door, holding it open for me. Will's hair is a lively shade of blonde, and it falls in abundant, floppy locks that twist into gentle curls at the ends. His glasses, while stylish, are slightly oversized for his face, and they add a charming touch of quirkiness to his appearance. His voice is deep, and carries a prominent british accent, which seems to contrast with his facial features. "morning," he says with a nod as I walk into the studio, letting the door slam shut behind me. "Got anything prepared?" he asks as we walk down to the studio we had booked for the day. "A little thought you could help me finish the rest," I say as Will pushes the door open, letting me walk in first before he does.

"Alright, let me hear it," he says as he sits beside a bunch of sound equipment. I unlock my phone and open the voice memo app before playing the most recent voice memo, ' Sparks fly? ' From a few nights ago.

The voice memo starts with me playing guitar before I start the first lyric, "The way you move is like a full-on rainstorm, and I'm a house of card. You're the kind of reckless that should send me running, but I kinda know that I won't get far," will nods as he pauses the memo before unpausing it and letting it play the rest through "and you stood there in front of me, just close enough to touch. Close enough to hope you couldn't see what I was thinking of. Drop everything now, meet me in the pouring rain. Kiss me on the sidewalk, take away the pain. Cause I see sparks fly whenever you smile. Get me with those brown eyes, baby, as the lights go down. Give me something that'll haunt me when you're not around. Cause I see sparks fly whenever you smile," The memo ends, and will look over at me.

"Kay, I like it. What were the cords you were playing?" shit, I hadn't written them down like I usually did before studio sessions. "Um fuck, I don't know...I think I played A, F, C, and G? Maybe those," he picks up his guitar that had been discarded beside him and begins to play almost identically to how I was in the memo. "Aright was the end the chorus?" I nod a quiet "mhm." "Alright, you got anything else?" I nod before saying, "Yeah, keep on playing." He continues playing his guitar, trying to fill in the missing pieces to continue on the song's instrumental part. "My mind forgets to remind me, your bad idea. You touch me once and it's really something. You find that I'm even better than you imagined I would be. I'm on guard for the rest of the world, but with you, I know it's no good."

We finished off the rest of the song, tweaking some lyrics here and there and even recording the music before we decided to head out. I'm in my car driving by 11:30 when I get a call. The caller ID shows up on the screen on my dashboard. Joel <33. I answered the phone call, and Joel immediately started talking. "Hey baby, what you doin'?" he asks. I can hear him inhaling and puffing out air, letting me know he's probably out on his back porch smoking a cigarette. "Driving. Whatcha need?" he sighs out "nothin' really. Just wanted to know if you want to stay for dinner t'night" I laugh as my car comes to a slow stop at a red light. "Yeah, sure, what you guys havin' tonight?"

"Probably pizza doesn't feel like cooking. The girls will be happy with that," he says, punctuating his sentence with a loud inhale before a matching exhale a few seconds later. "So, how long do you think you'll be?" I hum, pondering a bit as I hit the gas, following after the car in front of me. "maybe 7 minutes? I'm a few lights away," I say. I hear him slide open his sliding glass door and presumably walk inside. "Alright, I'll let you go and Rangle up these kids before you get here. See ya in a bit." The almost piercing beeps as he hangs up fill my ears before my phone begins playing the song it had been playing before Joel's call.

7 minutes later, I pulled up in front of Joel's house to see him sitting on the porch, cigarette hanging from his mouth, while the girls sat on the driveway drawing with chalk. I chose to park on the street so I wouldn't disturb Sarah and Ellie. I leave the car, shoving my phone into one pocket. "y/n!" Sarah leaps up from the pavement, dropping the chalk stick in her hand before running towards me. Tiny arms wrap around my body as she hugs me. "Are you staying for dinner? Daddy ordered pizza," she says excitedly as Joel walks up behind her. "Go on and play with your sister, Babygirl. Let me and y/n talk, alright?" Sarah pulls away, nodding, before running back towards her sister.

"Hey, sweetheart," he says before pressing a short but sweet kiss to my lips. "Pizza'll be here in about 10 minutes. I ordered it right after I hung up with you," he says as he places the cigarette he had pulled from his lips a few seconds ago, slotting it against his upper and lower lip. I nod as I lean into his body. "How was your thing," he asks, arm wrapping around my waist as we walk back towards his front porch. "good," I reply simply as he unwraps his arm around my waist and sits down. Somehow, being in a relationship with Joel Miller was so easy I forgot how my life used to be. My entire world now revolved around football games, touring, Joel, and his girls. I almost forgot that 3 months ago, I was still rotting in my bed, sobbing over the ending of a relationship I thought was going to be forever. The moment I took one step into Joel's life, I was sucked in and hoped to God I'd never be pushed out.

"y/n! can you come draw with us?" Sarah asks from her spot on the pavement. I look at Joel, giving him a look that almost asks, 'Is that okay?' he nods, saying, "Go, we'll talk later." I walk over and sit beside Sarah on the still-hot Texas pavement. Ellies sat across from us, so deep into her drawing that she didn't even look up to greet me. Her knees are scratched up, probably from the pavement, and her forearms and hands are covered in different dusty chalk colors. "Look at my drawing," Sarah says, pointing at a larger drawing to her right. 4 stick-figured people, 3 female, one male, and one stick-figured cat, are drawn to the left of the smaller stick-figured humans. Each is labeled 'Daddy,' 'y/n,' 'Sarah,' 'Ellie,' and 'Ollie.' I almost want to cry at how adorable it is. She smiles up at me, so proud of her work. I wanted to take a picture but decided to take one later.

I want to stay here forever, or at least have something similar to this forever. Joel sat puffing on his cigarette a few inches away, admiring from afar as I interacted with his children. Interactions that make him wish he could have met me first. Before the Barbara's, or Annas. Interactions that make me wish he was the man I met 7 years ago on a red carpet, wishing I hadn't spent 7 years delusionally praying for a ring from a man who fell less and less in love with me every day.

A car with a bright red and white Papa John's logo attached to the top pulls into the driveway. It's almost like the girls have a routine for pizza nights. They both jump up, leaving the chalk on the sidewalk and run into the house, squealing, "Pizza!!" as Joel snuffed out his cigarette against the pavement before walking up to the young brunette man with a wad of cash. I, similarly to the girls, discard the chalk on the pavement and walk inside. I wash my hands before meeting the two girls at the table. Their father already passing out slices.

"Cheese or pepperoni, Ellie?" Joel asks. Ellie, who sits up on her knees in the chair, says, "Both!" he shakes his head. "Nope, you won't eat it all, one or none. El's pick one," she pouts as her arms cross over her chest. "Peperoni," she mumbles under her breath as she sits back down on her butt. Joel nods before placing a slice of pepperoni pizza onto a red plastic plate and sliding it over to her. "Cheese," Sarah says before her father even asks her.

My elbows are on the table, and a half-eaten cheese pizza sits before me. This is something taken straight out of a movie, with the family sitting at the table casually talking about each other's days. Sarah told her dad about the funny joke her grandfather had told her last night. Joel chuckles, recalling the same joke being told to him more than 20 years ago when he was her age. It all felt so surreal. How could I be a part of this? I met these people less than 3 months ago and am already at family dinners. Sometimes, it makes me feel insecure; at moments, the thought of feeling so left out because this is not my family, even though I'm sitting at their family dinner. He's my boyfriend, but these are his children, not mine; I've known these people for less than 3 months and have only been actually dating Joel for one of those months.

KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK.

Three loud, sharp knocks at the front door pull me from my thoughts. Joel sighed, dropping his slice of pizza before getting up and mumbling about how he'd 'be right back.' The dining room is silent as we hear Joel's hushed voice whispering to whoever is on the other side of the door. Sarah stood up slowly, walking over to the doorway so she could get a look at whoever was at the door. Ellie follows as usual. Monkey see, monkey do. A loud sequel-like shout makes me get up just in time to see Sarah running to the woman standing at the door. "Mommy!"

She looks like Sarah, with similar but tighter dark curls and a slightly darker complexion. She is beautiful. Her hair is pulled up in a ponytail, and though she's only wearing a tee shirt and jeans, she pulls it off fabulously. Though there seems to be not even one wrinkle on her face, I can tell she's closer in age to Joel than I'll ever be. Joel stood at the door uncomfortably as Sarah hugged her mother.

She's tall and thin, thinner than I'd ever thought about being. I could tell she was a model not only because of her stature but also because I'd seen her online. Probably an Instagram account, though I can't recall what platform I saw her on. "how've you been, sarbear?" she asks as she hugs her daughter tightly. "good," Sarah giggles as she steps away from her mother. The woman's eyes now fall to Ellie. "Hey Ellie, how have you been" Ellie shrugs from behind me. Being her usual Ellie self when it comes to people she doesn't know well.

Joel tilts his head almost as if he's saying, 'Come here.' I comply, walking over to him with Ellie trailing close behind. Joel wraps his arm around my waist as the woman's eyes fall on me. She looks me up and down about 2 times before smiling, "And you must be..." She drags out the 'e' sound of be until I answer back meekly, "Y/n...I'm y/n." She nods, a genuine smile on her face like she's actually happy to meet me, which is not a regular occurrence when an ex meets a new girlfriend.

"Nice to meet you, y/n. I'm Barbara, but you can just call me Barb," I nod, smiling, trying to match the genuine smile she had on her face because despite the millions of insecure thoughts swirling inside my head, I was genuinely happy to finally meet her. "How long have you two been together?" she asks, eyes flicking up to Joels. "Um, bout 3 months, right honey?" he says, a fake smile gracing his lips as he leans his head down a bit to press a kiss to my temple. "Yeah, about that," I say with a forced giggle as I lean into Joel a little more. Right at this moment, my insecurities flood back in, realizing I look nothing like her. She's thin, her body fills out right where it needs to, she has no hip dips, scars, or stretchmarks. she was perfect. If this was his ex, was I not his type, or was she not?

I was looking at her body and then comparing it to mine. Wondering if he liked her legs better than mine? Did he like her hips more? Her boobs? Her butt? Her eyes? It's almost like I'm looking at her like I want to be hurt. I don't know if I'd rather him tell me straightforwardly what he liked better or me sitting here riddled with my own insecurity. I wonder if she could smell the insecurities practically dripping off of me.

"Barb, why are you here?" Joel asks; she looks at him and just laughs his words off. "I'm here to see my daughter," she says with a scoff as her hands placed on her hips. Joel rolls his eyes. "it's not like you wanted to for the last 2 years." I know this is my cue to take the girls and let them have their 'adult conversation', so I pull away from Joel and say, "Common girls, let go play with Ollie?" both girls excitedly race upstairs towards Joel's room, where we had put Ollie while we ate.

I sat on the bed with the girls, my anxiety and insecurities festering inside me as the girls swooned over my cat. Would Barbara's reappearance randomly rekindle their relationship? Would I just be left in the dust? I know he was acting like he was annoyed with her downstairs, but I bet if she tried, he'd get back with her, right? He'd probably rather be with the mother of one of his children than me.

Sarah deserved a perfect family, a mom, a dad, a little sister. She didn't deserve whatever she had right now; I know Joel knew that. And I know he didn't want it to be this way. From what I heard, it seemed like she was not around a lot, and that was why he was so uncomfortable with her being here, but if she proposed to start their relationship again, I'd bet he'd agree. Her having him would mean she'd stay. Even if it wasn't for Sarah, she'd stay, and Sarah would have her mom back for good. There would be no need for some 'pretend mom' anymore. No more revolving door of girlfriends, though I desperately didn't want to be a part of that revolving door. Joel barges into the room, instructing his daughters to get ready for bed before slamming the door shut behind him. Leaving just him and me in the bedroom, alone.

"She's staying the night." He grumbled, arms wrapping around my waist as he pulled me close. I don't ask why, feeling as though it is none of my business. I hum with a slight nod. "I was just bout to head out then," I say, pressing my head into his shoulder. Our 'sleepovers,' if you even can call them that, typically only lasted one night, maybe till dinner the next night, but definitely not a second night. "You're leaving?" I can almost hear the frown on his lips. My brow furrowed in confusion. Normally, he wouldn't budge when I said I was leaving. A few kisses, and I'm usually off, but not tonight. His arms instinctively wrap tighter around my waist as if to say, 'Don't go.' but his ex is here, Sarah's mother. Isn't that awkward?

"I thought I'd just go...cause she-she's here. But if you don't want me to leave, I can stay," I whisper, pressing a few soft kisses to Joel's exposed neck. "Yeah," he mutters with a nod.

Barbara is on the couch downstairs, both girls are fast asleep in their beds, and I'm still awake scrolling mindlessly though Barbara's Instagram. she's got millions of pictures posted dating all the way back to 2014. she's nice, and I really like her I do but I can't help but feel jealous of her when I get posts from 2015. most with Joel who looks so much younger, I can tell she's pregnant in most of them.

I can't help but obsess over every part of her body that doesn't look like mine, wonder if he prefers her body over mine. I wonder how she was during their relationship. was she good in bed? better than me? did he prefer sleeping with her? did he ever think about her? was she still friends with his friends? did his mom like her better than me? and it doesn't make this any easier on me knowing he's got a kid with her and not with me. she's forever attached to him because of Sarah but me I'm disposable. his children aren't my blood, they aren't from my womb he could forget me easily if he really wanted too. he can't forget her because he sees her every time he looks at Sarah.

I'm trying to pick out something for me to hate her, and the only reason I've come up with is because she's basically abandoned Sarah. I guess I'm turning into will. the only photos posted of Sarah was 8 years ago on her birthday July 20th, 2015, baby Sarah all swaddled up being held by Barbara who laid in a hospital bed, Joel stood next to her admiration and joy gleaming in his eyes. then 2 months later Sarah being help by Joel with the caption 'favorite people'. then after than nothing radio silent it's like the baby disappears. people in the comments must've thought that too because every comment for the next few months of posts are along the lines of 'where's the baby?'. I'm guessing that's when she left.

I know Joel loves me, and that I'm probably going crazy, but I can't help but obsess over her. "you're still awake?" Joel slurs, voice deep from sleep. I turn off my phone immediately and turn so I'm facing him. one of his arms wraps around my waist pulling me closer to him. "can't sleep" I mutter as he presses open mouthed kisses to my neck and jawline.

even as he's practically sucking hickeys into my neck all I can think about is that he's probably done this to her, while she was laying on the same side I was as he whispered quiet 'I love You's into her neck. I can't help it as tears form in my eyes that are quickly blinked back. I can't let him know how insecure I actually am. I don't want him to know how insecure I've gotten in the last few hours because I know there's a chance, I could get hurt.

"wha's wrong? you're tense" he says pulling away from me. I freeze staring him in the eyes as his brows curl into a furrow. "what's wrong?" his left hand reaches from my cheek caressing it softly. "nothing" I mutter leaning into his soft touch. he hums questionably like he doesn't believe me but goes onto press his lips against my none the less.

I'm so obsessed that once Joel goes back to sleep, I can't help but scroll her page. I don't even know why I'm so obsessed, it's not like I'm ugly I'm just not anything like her so maybe that's why I'm letting it get to me. deep down I'm terrified that she's his type more than I am, that maybe her long legs, perfect hair, and confidence will sweep him right back off his feet and I'll be all alone again. I'm terrified of him leaving and stop loving me like Andy did. I don't want to rot in bed again over a man I have stupidly fallen head over heels in love with again. I don't want to this to end because of how deeply have fallen into this. I don't want him to fall onto my long list of ex-lovers and have yet another reason to be called a slut.

Taglist

@taylarxse @none-of-this-makes-any-sense @ktheunready @camixkami @skysmiller @mars743 @tylrswftss @alyhull @jenna-mcgraw19 @h4teh3x @lexloon @greensabereyesforcevictim @cozylibraries @celebrities-imagines @nezukos-number1fan @abbysgirll @marispunk @hopelessromantic727 @fairyain @joeldjarin

#fanfics #x reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller tlou #joel miller x reader #joel the last of us #joel miller #the last of us hbo #the last of us #tlou #the last of us show #pedro pascal #sarah miller #ellie williams #taylor swift #travis kelce

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pippin-katz · 8 months

Text

FirstPrince Author AU

I mulled it over and decided that I could post at least a little bit of what I have from the first draft I did last semester. Let me know what your thoughts are, and if you're interested in reading more!

Untitled WIP

Alex lets out another frustrated sigh as he reads through yet another fan analysis that completely missed the point. With an eyeroll, he stretches his hands and starts typing rapidly. It's moments like these that he despises his favorite author.

H. Fox is the author of several successful fiction novels, and most recently, a fantasy series, the third installment of which was just released earlier that week. Alex is a picky reader, but there's something about Fox's work that draws him in like a moth to a flame. The passages are skillfully and elegantly strung together to create stories that make it nearly impossible for him to put the book down once he starts reading. He has multiple copies of each book, one that he keeps in pristine condition, and the other that he's filled with scribbles, highlights, post-it notes, and other markings denoting moments that stand out to him, sentences that spark a strong feeling in his chest, and subtext of underlying themes and analogies Fox carefully crafts in. Alex would be thrilled to meet the author, for the chance to ask them questions about parallels he's found, and what their inspiration was for their stories and characters.

The problem is that no one knows who they are.

H. Fox is an anonymous writer. They are faceless, an unseen genius that provides nothing but a few facts about themselves in their bio at the end of each book. All Alex and the rest of their readers know is that they love dogs and have a passion for the poetry of Lord Byron. Fox never does press. They never offer pictures or even descriptions of what they look like. It's a point of constant debate and speculation within the community of readers.

What gender do they identify as? Where are they from? How old are they?

All very simple questions with no answers. Some are positive Fox is a man, while most others are adamantly opposed to the idea. The majority of the readers who had been following the author are almost positive they are from a country where English is the primary spoken language, but certain word choices and phrases generate doubt around which. The age range they are believed to fall into is twenties to thirties, but there is no way to know any of these things for certain, since they are essentially a phantom.

And that is part of Alex's problem at the moment.

#red white and royal blue #rwrb #rwrb movie #rwrb book #rwrb fanfic #fanfic wip #alex claremont diaz #henry hanover stuart fox #henry fox mountchristen windsor #firstprince #history huh? bet we could make some

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barnesafterglow · 2 years

Text

eyes filled with stars

summary: nick needs to remind you that you're his

pairing: nick fowler x fem!reader

word count: 1.3k

warnings: jealous nick, unprotected sex (duh), dirty talk, porn with feelings (are we surprised), low key sweet nick, steve rogers cameo

a/n: here's another kinktober prompt!! i'm fairly certain this is the first time i've written for nick so please be kind. also thank you @itistimeforusalltodecidewhoweare for picking this out for me to write bc i was having a time and a half trying to decide. please remember to reblog and comment so i know you enjoyed it!!

you can join my kinktober taglist or follow @theafterglowlibrary to stay updated when i post 🤍

kinktober masterlist ─ main masterlist

You knew from the moment he touched your arm that Nick would be furious. Nevermind the fact that he suggested you flirt with Senator Rogers to get your foot in the door.

It was supposed to be simple: you talked him up, let him know you would be open to “special favors” if he let you into his intern program, and over the next few weeks you could get the files you needed before he never saw you again.

But that was hard considering Nick was shooting daggers at Rogers, and he had definitely noticed. Instead of being nervous, he kept inching closer until he was gently grazing the bare skin of your back, exposed from the dress you were wearing.

As soon as Nick started pushing his way through the crowd, you knew your chances were blown. You’d later wonder what the last straw was - the way you placed your hand on his chest to laugh at his joke or the way he leaned down to ask if you wanted to go up to his hotel room.

It was all part of Nick’s plan.

You felt his presence before his physical touch - gripping your bicep and pulling you just out of Rogers’ orbit.

“Sorry, I’m going to have to steal her for a moment,” he said, and you could see the tick in his jaw as he clenched it.

“Goodnight, Mr. -” Your words were cut off as Nick gripped your arm tighter and led you to the elevator. You knew you would have bruises in the morning.

As soon as the elevator doors closed, he was crowding you, backing you up until you hit the mirrored wall behind you. The coolness of it dissipated to heat still lingering from the Senator’s touch, and it was like Nick knew.

“Bet you had fun with it, having his attention. Having his hands all over you.” His hands gripped your waist and he was so close you could feel his warm breath fan across your face. “Didn’t you?”

“C’mon, Nick,” you hissed. “I was just doing what you asked me to.”

“Then I was a fucking idiot.” That’s how you knew he was truly upset. He never admitted he was wrong unless he was really wrong. “Couldn’t stand to see his hands on you like that. Couldn’t stand to see his hands on what’s mine.”

Your breath hitched in your throat. No matter how many times you heard it, it never ceased to amaze you that you were his and he was yours.

It took you two long enough, dancing around feelings and playing the most meticulous games, until a night similar to this one, when Nick pinned you down in your hotel bed that night and fucked bruises into you to show you that you were his and his alone. When the bruises faded, he replaced the memory with a ring. A promise. One you were missing right then.

His lips attacked your neck as the elevator shot up, nipping and leaving marks you knew would last long enough to satisfy him. When the doors opened, he gripped your thighs and picked you up, carrying you down the hall to your hotel suite. You took a moment to thank the gods for new age technology because Nick had the door open in seconds, marching you straight to the king size bed and laying you down.

You wondered what the night would bring - hard and rough, making sure you never forgot who you belonged to. Or sweet and passionate, marking in his favorite ways.

By the time he sat you up to peel your dress from your body, he had already stripped down to nothing but grey boxer briefs, and the small stain of precome had your mouth watering. Once your dress pooled on the floor, you made a move to drop to your knees, but Nick gripped your arms, stopping you.

“I’m not waiting to make that pretty pussy mine,” he whispered low and hot in your ear. “Now get on the damn bed.”

Instinctively, you obeyed him, laying back in the fluff of pillows surrounding you, pushing them away until you were propped enough to have a clear view of your lover. He settled on his knees between your thighs, cock standing free and proud against his stomach.

He spread your legs wide, wrapping them around his waist as he bent down to capture lips in a heated kiss. You felt the tip of him slide between your slick folds, and he reached between your bodies to take hold of himself, teasing at your entrance.

“Nick, please,” you pleaded.

“Tell me who you belong to.”

“You, baby, I belong to -” Without warning, he buried himself in you to the hilt, giving you no time to adjust as he fucked into you hard and deep. His thrusts were wild and savage - they were done with the intent of making you feel as good as possible. He always took care of you.

“Gonna make you mine forever,” he whispered into your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

“Already gave me the -,” you moaned as he hit you sweet spot, “gave me the ring.”

“I need more than that, love. Need more of you. Want more than just us.”

“What are you saying, Nick?”

“I’m saying I wanna fuck a baby into this pussy of mine. Have something that’s us. Made by us. That okay with you?”

You couldn’t contain the moans and filth coming from your mouth. Agreeances and “I love you”s and everything in between, clenching tightly around him as he whispered filthy promises of keeping you full, how pretty you would look pregnant, how he wanted a big family with you.

“You like the thought of that, don’t you honey?” he teased. “Like the thought of me keeping you stuffed full until it takes? Wanna be round with my baby, another part of me that’s always with you?”

Nodding frantically, you dug your fingers into his back, pulling him as close to you as possible, leaving angry red marks in the process.

With sweaty bodies pressed together, he came in you, fucking it into you as your own orgasm washed over you.

When your hips stopped grinding and your hands stopped shaking, he slipped out of you, laying beside you on his side. His hand slid back between your thighs, pushing the come that had slipped out of you back in, then stuck his fingers in your mouth and you cleaned the rest off of them.

“You were serious, huh?” you joked once he had pulled his fingers away.

“Look at me,” he said, and gently gripped your chin to turn your head toward him. “Of course I was serious, I want to be with you forever. I want a family with you. I would give this up if you asked me to.”

Your heart melted. You knew Nick loved you, he always made sure to show you, in his own way. But it was unlike him, talking about a future like that. You always figured you would go on as you had, get married one day and keep to the same path. But this was a new side of him he had never shown you until then.

“I can’t wait to have a little Nicky running around here.” A bright smile split across his face and his blue eyes sparkled in the low light of the room.

“Then we better keep trying.”

Without warning, his hands were on your hips, flipping you over on your stomach and lifting your ass up before he settled behind you.

He leaned down to whisper more filth in your ear. “I’m gonna keep you stuffed full all the time, baby. Have to make sure you’re getting every drop.”

His thrust into you had you seeing stars. And all night he showed you a galaxy.

kinktober taglist *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

@treatbuckywkisses @sgt-barnesveins @bucky-barmes @opheliastark @sweetascanbee @writing-for-marvel @christywantspizza @hi-sarahh @highlyintelligentblonde @jjbunny14 @buckysfavoritereader (@navybrat817 i thought you might like this one)

#nick fowler #nick fowler fic #nick fowler smut #nick fowler x reader #nick fowler x you #nick fowler x y/n #the 355 #sebastian stan #sebastian stan smut #sebastian stan fic #tiff writes #kinktober 22 #tiff's kinktober #eyes filled with stars

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rolaplayor101 · 7 months

Note

So I've just read your post "A Silent Voice Aspec Analysis" and I am so happy but I wanted to ask is...how exactly is Shoya from OAA rep? Could you direct me to all instances which made you think that he is? Thank you in advance!

9/13/22

So it’s been a year and a half since I got this ask and I’m only now answering it— I think about this ask a lot, and it’s not that I don’t want to answer it, it’s that I was waiting for the right time. I wanted to answer it during either asexual awareness week or Arospec awareness week last year or even the year before, but either because I forgot or because I procrastinated it, I never got to it. Now it's ASAW 2024, and I have finally decided to lay down and write this essay, so here we go:

There’s a few points I want to discuss, but in respect for the reader’s time, I will lay them all out right here as a tl;dr before I write them all out thoroughly.

Shoya shows himself to be both repulsed by romance and sexuality as soon as it is pointed towards him. This presents itself in his dialogue, his facial expressions, and his thoughts throughout A Silent Voice.

Shoya often is seen blushing in most instances, whether he’s with Shoko or not, of if he’s embarrassed or upset or neutral. With this point, I think it’s poignant to say he has rosacea.

Shoya himself says multiple times that he is not interested in Shoko, who is his main concern for all of the manga.

The way other characters in A Silent Voice show attraction is completely different from anything Shoya ever does.

The movie changes certain aspects of the manga to get the overall point across and stick to the most important plot lines. One of the things that it changes is literally all the scenes where the other characters assume Shoya likes Shoko romantically, unless it specifically pertains to Shoko’s side of the story, the character who DOES have romantic feelings in this pair for the other.

Shoya shows his immense dislike for romance and sex a variety of times, as aforementioned, but does seem to enjoy physical, sensual touch, including holding hands, and, secondly, the only time he feels jealousy in reference to other people's relationships is not when he thinks Shoko is dating someone, but when he sees her getting closer platonically with other people(Sahara).

The entire story is about Shoya trying to redeem himself for past deeds, and learning what friendship is. Romance only ever ties in when it’s related to other people that aren’t him.

This might have to be split into multiple posts because I have a lot of manga panels to use as reference. First, let’s start at the beginning. On the very first page of chapter one, we are immediately met by Shoya experiencing allonormativity and looking extremely annoyed. As soon as he hears the word “boyfriend” he is amiss, as is implied by the boldness of the word boyfriend. He immediately informs them that he’s not her boyfriend, with a sweating face, and balling in on himself, a thing he does multiple times to show he’s uncomfortable and anxious, while also always having the four little blush marks under his eyes as a character design choice, not a proof of attraction.

In fact, one of the first things we learn about Shoya is that he doesn’t like girls, next to the fact that he’s not supposed to jump into the River, he doesn’t like his mom’s nickname for him, and that he has a sister whose boyfriend sucks, because he can’t “play with them”. Crushing on one doesn’t even cross his mind, but it does for everyone else he interacts with in his class:

“isn’t that great, Ishida?” Naoka asks in response to learning that the new transfer student is a girl.

“Huh? I don’t give a crap!!” He replies, his expression one of genuine confusion and annoyance, with his eyebrows furrowed downwards and his pupils small, mouth low on his face without a hint of a smile or blush.

Shortly after we have a montage of him bullying Shoko along with his friends, we are met with his first instance of romance repulsion at a young age:

Amongst being touched— holding hands with a girl— he does not blush or smile, neither does flowers appear around him in thematic fashion of romantic attraction; instead, he looks angry, his brows furrowing, even the lines of rosacea on his face disappearing to show him paling in disgust. The next panel with his face shows him grimacing, a shadow falling over his eyes and bags appearing under his eyes with sweat pouring down his face. He is not enjoying the physical touch from her. Finally, as he whips his arm away, a blush appears on his face, but only as he hears his friends behind him laughing at him. He’s embarrassed and angry. We get the second bout of amatonormativity from his friends:

He’s blushing, but not from attraction, like his friends joke, but in embarrassment. The next scene shows Ishida saying a word that appears over and over from here on, and the dialogue is, “she’s creepin’ me out” as he walks away with Kazu and Hirose. We will get back to that.

This is only the beginning of Shoya’s journey through navigating allonormativity and deconstructing what friendship means to him. His “friends” aren’t good ones, for sure, and this comes up as a theme throughout. In fact, the allonormativity keeps on even til the end, but I’ll expand on that later, as well. Skip only a 20 pages later, and you’ll see this little scene:

Here, Shoya actively reveals his repulsion towards romance once again by even just being around a place where people go on dates often, and gets angry and upset. Now, it is a common trope for children in tv to hate romance and be seen to grow out of it, as if it’s childish to see it as disgusting and unlikeable, but, in Shoya’s case, even as time passes, he continues to share these feelings, although more quietly, with his elementary school self. Even here, when he’s all scratched up, you can see the blush on his face when he notices Shoko seeing him, but again, this blush, in context, doesn’t seem to be one of attraction, but of embarrassment. In context, he’d just been pushed around by his ex-friends, and chastised by his mom, and has now been seen kicking a wall. There’s no romantic tension or reasoning to this scene for it to be a blush of romantic attraction on his face.

Time skip to him in his teen years, senior year, in chapter 5:

He’s being a bit dramatic by the end, but even so, in the beginning, it’s obvious that his thoughts are his own. In the ten year anniversary edition, his dialogue is, “And you butt-ugly bastards, stop talking about dating. It makes me sick.” This change in dialogue leaves out the “it doesn’t suit you” which can change the connotation a little bit. It changes the meaning from, “You acting like you can date the way you are is creepy” to “just talking about romance at all is gross to me”. And then, sexually, it’s also the same. It’s not only romance, but sex that also creeps him out. “That goes for you too.” (These are also taken out of the movie, because it’s once again not relevant, and also makes Shoya more palpable as a character you can be sorry for. His comments here do sound a lot like endorsing rape culture in a victim blaming kind of way). Then there’s this little nugget a few pages after:

“Apparently, there are some things in this world you just can’t attain. The moment I realized that, my future became clear.”

One of the noticeable things he “can’t attain” is a girl or boy to be in a relationship with in high school. That, or if you look at it in things he can’t be a part of, like, say, being in the class photo, or getting into college, or being In a group of friends, or having a full head of hair, etc., it’s also possible to view the scene of him walking past the couple as him not being able to avoid seeing couples, as all the other things he is actively working towards or interacting with/looking at. As in, “I won’t be able to be in the class photo, I won’t be able to avoid couples, I won’t be able to go to college, I won’t be able to make friends”, or, “I won’t be able to be in a relationship” whether that being because no one wants him or because he himself doesn’t want to be in one despite everyone else in school wanting it so badly, due to the allonormativity he’s experienced convincing him that’s the case.

After this scene, we are back in media rez, where he just denied being her boyfriend. In that context, he just the other day thought about romance being something he either can’t attain because he doesn’t want it, or can’t get it, and when these aunties call him Shoko’s boyfriend, he shows a rather plain disgust and discomfort with it, implying that it’s something he doesn’t want, instead of can’t get.

Then we get this legendary scene: ”Nishimiya…could you…and me..be friends?”

He has a blush here that is unlike the usual four lines we see on his cheeks under his eyes; this one is further into his cheekbones, and it's not from anger or embarrassment, but rather from a shyness. And this shyness doesn’t come from romantic feelings, but for platonic feelings. His words inform the expression, that he wants a friendship with her. And then this happens:

His expression changes instantly. It’s not necessarily one of disgust, but of panic, of discomfort. He’s still blushing, but he’s sweating now, just like before, in elementary school, and he can also hear the ladies in the back making comments just like his friends from before. He’s not angry, as his brows are raised instead of furrowed, but he’s deeply unsettled.

In this next set of panels, Shoko notices the ladies and pulls away, and Shoya’s face is a bit different and more comical. He’s still sweating and blushing, but his mouth is open wider as if to say something, and his hand is limp. When she pulls back. There’s a spark that’s closer to her than it is to him, which I think symbolizes a sudden awareness on her part rather than his. He also looks a bit happier that she let go, with only one sweat drop on his face instead of multiple. His brows are also more relaxed, and his mouth jaw is closing slightly. This is presumably how Shoko is seeing him in this moment.

And when someone interrupts, presumably one of the women who were laughing at him, he gets all stiff again and his blush mostly disappears. Then the panels start being viewed from either Shoya’s side or from his perspective again. Fast forward to when they’re feeding bread to fish a few minutes later.

He blushes at the thought that he’s having a normal friendly conversation with Shoko, the girl he used to hate, not just “a girl” or “a person my age that’s a girl for the first time since I hit puberty”. He’s not blushing at a romantic encounter or moment, but that he’s making a friend, he’s nervous that he has zits in his face, not because he thinks she’s pretty or something like that, that doesn’t even cross his mind, but that he can have a positive relationship with someone who isn't in his family or someone he works with. And someone he ruthlessly bullied five or six years ago.

Another example of his Asexuality comes right after this, when they both jump into the water under the bridge to rescue Shoko’s old notebook. He accidentally looks up and sees her skirt lifted, but he immediately closes his eye and looks down again without a blush on his face, and immediately focuses back in on finding the notebook without even a moment to get his bearings. It doesn’t bother him at all.

sorry about the bad quality, i had to take this picture for the sake of time instead of finding it online.

The next chapter features the biggest theme of the entire manga and anime besides redemption:

This is brought up again once Shoya meets Yuzuru, who wants to keep him away from Shoko. Yuzuru asks, “Are you really her friend?” And it brings about this entire thought process for Shoya, again and again, in the series. And then he meets Nagatsuka:

This is an example of my second point: Shoya’s blushing. A lot of “evidence” people give for Shoya liking Shoko is that he blushes around her a lot. This is a false equivalence, for Shoya blushes all the time and for anyone and any reason. Here, Nagatsuka does something extraordinarily nice to him for no reason, and he blushes, his confusion evident in the furrow of his brow and him asking, “Why’d you do all that for me?” In the 10th anniversary edition. Nagatsuka’s friendship from here on causes him to blush just as much as Shoko, and it doesn’t stop there. Later in the series when he befriends Miki, he’s also seen blushing around her, and not only that, but there are symbols seen around characters all the time to forward the notion of different points of view within a panel.

Image 1: Blush blush blush~ all of this at the notion of friendship, a complete turn around from whenever anyone mentions romance or sex around him. He’s forming connections with people for the first time since middle school, or even elementary school, to further Point 7. His need for platonic relationships greatly overshadows any hint of romance that is ever brought up, especially with Shoko.

Image 2: Miki sees herself as cute, which is why the bubbles appear around her, signaling a slight pov change. Shoya himself never shows any interest in Miki, nor Miki for him, and it especially shows in this scene with his expression and his thoughts not at all aiming towards her. And when Miki says Mashiba is handsome, a particularly aesthetic, romantic, or sexual form of attraction, this is something Shoya doesn’t even notice; yet, when she says Mashiba wants to be his friend, his eyes go wide with sudden interest. His disinterest towards romance and sex also take into account men, as well.

Image 3: once again, Miki has bubbles around her, but this is not Shoya’s pov until the next panel. This is a good example of background and environmental symbolism not necessarily reflecting on Shoya’s own thoughts and feelings, but those around him.

If we go to the movie, in image 1, this scene is shown with Shoya and Nagatsuka doing a secret handshake, which has a lingering touch between them that doesn’t make Shoya uncomfortable like Shoko’s attempt at handshakes/handholding does, and it’s in the midst of a conversation about friendship, in contrast to how the ladies from sign class assumed it to be a romantic thing with Shoko and Shoya. And speaking of, shortly after image 1, we run into them again:

Once again, the blush appears, but his brows furrow and he has a frown on his face that shows his discomfort, along with the sweat. He runs away because he’s embarrassed, not because there’s any truth to what they’re saying. This bring us again to point 3: Shoya points out multiple times that he does not like Shoko romantically. For the sake of convenience, I’ll add the rest of the times that he does this, and the chapters, to show that he doesn’t change his mind even by the end of the manga.

chapter 15

Chapter 20 (genuine confusion, doesn’t see it as romantic in the slightest, regular rosacea blush on his face. Pure amatonormativity and relationship hierarchy)

chapter 21

chapter 40 (this one needs further explaining but I’ll do it in the next post)

chapter 41

chapter 61 (til the very end, the literal second to last chapter, his friend is being allonormative while he’s perfectly happy and blushing at his friendship with Shoko. His expression holds a seriousness that implies it’s not a joke on his part, as well as the excited look he has as he gets an answer to the question)

Since I can only post 30 picture at a time on tumblr, I’ll stop the post right here and finish on a reblog some day. Yes, I know about the interviews with the author, and yes, I’ll supply those in due time as well.

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servantofclio · 3 months

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Dragon Age fic: The Tyranny of Morning Meetings (Dorian/Inquisitor)

Yet another fic getting cleaned up and posted to AO3, and I thought I'd post it again here as well. Had to come up with a title for something that was originally just a prompt-fic.

Dorian was not only awake for this blasted morning strategy meeting, he was actually early. This was a mark of something, though he hadn’t made up his mind what. Newfound responsibility? Dedication to the cause? Simply the fact that he’d fallen asleep over his books early the night before, rather than reading by magelight into the still hours of the night?

Whatever the cause, the entire experience felt profoundly novel, as if Dorian had gone and become a new man, one who embraced the chill of the morning air, so long as it also brought sunshine and singing birds and all that rot.

… ah, perhaps he hadn’t entirely become a new man after all.

He was, however, early enough to catch the Inquisitor heading toward the council room, alone. Dorian’s heart quickened along with his steps as he made to intercept him. It was a rare opportunity for a private word or two, at this early hour, with people only starting to stir and most of those awake still at breakfast.

A week ago, even, Dorian might have held back, mindful of watchful eyes and chattering tongues. That was before the Inquisitor had made clear what he thought of such talk, thoroughly discomfiting the disapproving Revered Mother. Before they’d taken their game of flirtation a step further and lent truth to those scurrilous rumors. Before Dorian had made so bold as to kiss the man, at last. The Inquisitor. Trevelyan. Simon, since Dorian had utterly failed at keeping his distance, no matter how good his intentions had been.

“Good morning,” Dorian sang out now, once he was drawing close enough for conversation.

Simon stopped short and turned toward Dorian, a smile already breaking over his face. “Good morning, yourself. I’m surprised to see you about so early.”

“I’m perfectly capable of rising early,” Dorian said haughtily.

“Far be it from me to suggest otherwise. You’re generally a quarter-hour late to morning meetings, that’s all.”

Dorian couldn’t deny the truth of that. “I’m merely signaling my disapproval. Morning meetings are detestable. Can’t you use your Inquisitorial authority to move all strategy sessions to a civilized time like afternoon?” He waved his hand around at thegreat hall vaguely, encompassing the idea of authority.

Simon snorted. “And ruin Josephine’s detailed daily schedule? I wouldn’t dream of it. Besides, Cullen and Cassandra would have conniptions.” He started off toward the council room, Dorian falling into step beside him.

“I knew that habit of early rising you’d developed was a bad one,” Dorian said.

They passed through the door into the corridor, and Simon paused. “Why, Dorian, you’re not attempting to use that undue influence over me, are you?”

“And what if I were?” Dorian countered. That playful tone of voice had a deeper undercurrent, one that he’d quite happily allow to carry him away.

“You might have to give me a better reason,” Simon said, his voice low.

For once Dorian found himself without an immediate rejoinder. They stood, side by side, Simon’s eyes warm and serious in spite of his smile, and Dorian’s imagination was quite carried away, indeed, fueled by the memory of that kiss. He was no blushing youth, to let one kiss make him weak in the knees, and yet it had, unleashing the storm of fantasizing he’d barely been keeping in check over the last few months. “I’m certain I can come up with a better way to spend amorning,” he retorted, a beat too late.

“Mmm.” Simon smiled, sly and full of promise. “I’m sure you can.”

He looked altogether too pleased with himself, as they started down the hall again. He’d hardly even done anything, and yet Dorian was entirely off-balance, not at all the way he preferred things. Striking out in search of advantage, he said, “I had a dream about you, last night.”

Simon’s steps faltered as he shot Dorian a quick, startled glance. “Did you now?”

“A good one,” Dorian added, satisfied with the response. Let him not be the only one whose imagination was running out of control.

“Do tell,” Simon breathed, turning again to face Dorian.

“I would,” Dorian said — in fact he only half-remembered the dream, but what he did remember was promisingly filthy. “—but there’s this morning meeting, I hear.”

The dawning, wide-eyed outrage on Simon’s face gave Dorian all the satisfaction hecould have wished for. This was nearly worth waking early for. He smirked back, counting himself victorious.

“You’re an appalling person,” Simon informed him.

“I’m well aware,” Dorian said. “And yet you associate with me anyway —”

“So I do,” Simon said, and stepped in to kiss Dorian before Dorian could say another word.

The kiss was swift and soft, rather on the chaste side, and yet Dorian’s first flash of thought was alarm, as Cassandra or Cullen or Josephine or anyone might come trooping into the corridor at any moment. As if he’d sensed the thought, Simon broke it off quickly, leaving Dorian with only the barest taste.

No, that wouldn’t do at all. Dorian leaned in before Simon had retreated more than half a step, for a proper kiss. His heart pounded, listening with half an ear for any sign of footsteps approaching the door, but he made it a kiss worth having anyway: deeper, lingering, a little thrill running down the back of his neck.

He pulled back as soon as he perceived voices growing louder. He took an entire step back, in fact, and they both stood still, eyes fixed on each other, for the space of a heartbeat or two. Dorian felt entirely out of clever words, and more than a little out of breath.

Then the door swung open, admitting an entire cohort of Inquisitorial advisers, half of them already debating what they were intended to be discussing for the next hour. “There you are, Inquisitor,” Cullen called out, and Dorian took another step back. He fell in with the tide of people as it caught up with them, and pretended not to notice Leliana’s inquisitive gaze.

#dragon age #dorian pavus #clio ocs #simon trevelyan

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chervbs · 2 years

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the freaks come out at night — e. munson

pairings: eddie munson x fem!reader

word count: 4.1k

synopsis: eddie has always been gentle with you-too gentle. all you want is for him to be as rough as you know he wants too, but you've always been to embarrassed to ask. tonight, howver, eddie is finally able to pry the words out of you.

warnings: SMUT 18+, MINORS DNI!!, fem!reader, this shit is quite filthy, like 7/10 filthy, dom!eddie, sub!reader, making out, dry humping, spanking (heavy emphasis on eddies rings), choking/breath play, eddie loves on readers boobs, pet names (sweetheart, baby), lil bit of degradation, lots of praise, hand job, blow job, face fucking, fingering, reader plays with eddies balls a lil, cum play/swapping, poorly written smut

a/n: sooooo this is the first time i've ever properly written smut, so I apologize in advance if its awful. this partially fills a request I got for the reader to beg eddie to spank her and also was partially inspired by an animated video on a certain adult website that gave me eddie vibes. I'm just gonna post this and hope that it makes it into the tags because I've been writing this for like 3 days and I just wanna get it out. could potentially be continued in a part 2 if this gets enough attention so lmk your feedback!

The whirring of the space heater in Eddie’s bedroom filled the otherwise silence save for both of your slowed breathing.

You and Eddie enjoyed days like this. Friday nights when Wayne was already gone for his shift at the plant and you both could relax without having to worry about homework or school the next morning. Week days were so hectic, especially with midterms coming up and you’d been helping Eddie study so he would hopefully be able to pass. Just five more months and you’d be walking the stage together. That was the plan at least.

The peaceful atmosphere allowed the two of you to relax, snuggled together under two blankets. His arm was basically numb from resting under your head for so long, but the way you looked so peaceful, head tucked into the crook of his neck and hands fiddling with the rings on his fingers, was enough for the ache to be worth it.

Lost in his train of thoughts, it took him a minute to notice the dazed look in your eyes as you stared at hands. There was something in your gaze that he couldn’t quite place. Adoration? Longing? Need?

“Something on your mind, sweetheart?”

You blinked, peering up to meet his eyes, his bemused expression bringing a heat to your cheeks.

“Nothing, just…just thinking.” You mumbled in reply, trying your hardest to rid your mind of the images you brain had produced in the last few minutes.

There was just something about his hands that did it for you. Maybe it was the roughness of them; the calluses and little scars on his fingers from the constant use of his guitar. It contradicted the softness of his palms. And his rings.

Lord help you. The way you couldn’t help but think of how the metal felt against your skin, normally just on your own hands, arms and occasionally your waist and legs, and how you imagined they would feel in other places. Your neck, your chest, or if he struck them against the supple skin of your ass.

You and Eddie had yet to surpass the foreplay and oral stage of your sexual relationship. A handjob here, some head there, and a few make out sessions that ended with some needy dry humping was the farthest you’ve gotten.

Knowing you weren’t very experienced in the area kept Eddie from experimenting with his kinks. He didn’t want to cross any boundaries, especially not when it took him so long to break you out of your shell enough to let him slip his hands down your panties.

But unbeknownst to him, all you wanted was for him to be rougher. To take control and manhandle you until you were covered in delicious marks that would serve as a reminder of his desire.

You’d noticed the way he held back in the few times you had gotten a little hot and heavy. Like when you gave him a blowjob for the first time and you felt the few quick tugs of his hand in your hair and the way he resisted the urge to buck his hips into your throat. You felt it in the way he squeezed your hips when they rolled against his, the only thing separating the two of you being the thin layers of your underwear. And you definitely noticed when the two of you kissed, hands roaming your body like he needed to hold on for dear life, and when they finally separated from your heaving chest, they slid the slightest big to your clavicle, fingers stretching like the ached to wrap around your neck.

You wished more than anything that you could gather the courage to voice your needs, but every time you were in the moment, it was like you forgot how to speak.

Eddie took it as you being overwhelmed by pleasure, and while that wasn’t untrue, you were just too embarrassed to say anything.

“Care to share?” He asked, lacing his fingers with yours.

Your mouth opened like you wanted to answer, but after a short pause of silence, you gave up. Instead your sat up slightly and craned your neck, lips meeting with his more desperately than you meant to. Clearing he was just as surprise, given by the noise that escaped the back of his throat before he melted into your kiss.

It was a struggle to turn yourself to face him without breaking your lips apart, but you got there eventually, legs slithering over so you were straddling his waist. His hands were quick to move to yours, a deep groan sounding through his chest when your hips ground into his.

He couldn’t help the way his mouth stretched into a grin, finally separating from you and letting out deep pants. “Damn, sweetheart. Where did that come from?”

To distract from the flustered state your face was undoubtedly in, you let your lips fall back onto his face, first pressing kisses to his cheeks then moving down to the fair skin of his neck. “Just wanna love on you.” You replied, hoping he would drop the questions.

“Uh-uh.” His hands left your waist to grasp either side of your face instead, forcing you away from his neck. “Don’t lie to me. That’s not nice, is it?”

And there it was. That morsel of dominance that instantly had you like putty in his hands.

You shook your head in response, bottom lip jutting out in a pout. His thumb caressed your cheek before gliding to your mouth, poking the plump skin of your lip teasingly. “Thought so. Why don’t you wanna tell me what your thinking? You know you can tell me anything.”

Your hand grasped the wrist of the hand on your face. “It’s embarrassing.” The words came out as a whisper and you could feel the backs of your eyes burning.

Eddie’s eyes softened at the frown on your face. “Oh, my sweet girl.” He said, granting you a bit of mercy and pressing his lips back to yours for a brief moment of comfort. “Nothing you say is embarrassing. Especially not if it’s affecting you this much.”

A deep sigh escaped you. It was difficult to find the right words to say. “I think I’m ready.” Is what you settled on. “To go all the way.” You elaborated.

Eddie understood immediately and back was the grin that you adored. “Yeah? You sure, sweetheart?”

You nodded this time, leaning into the hand that still held your cheek. “Mhm. And I was thinking that um….” His left hand had fallen back to your waist and he gave you an encouraging squeeze. “I want you to be a little rough with me.”

It felt like your heart was beating against your rib cage so hard that you wouldn’t be surprised if he could hear it. The position he had you in made it impossible for you to hide your face with the way he held you away from him, so you just avoided his gaze instead.

The smirk on his face was borderline smug and he could feel his cock twitch in his pants, already having been stirred by the movement of your crotch against his just moments before.

“Is that what’s got you so worked up?” He chuckled. “You could’ve just said so, baby.” As much as the words would suggest, his tone was anything but condescending. “Tell me what you want. I wanna know everything that’s going on inside your pretty little head.”

The deep gravel of his voice sent tingles down your spine and you resisted the urge to whimper. “I know you’ve been holding back when we’ve done stuff before.” You admitted. “I don’t want you to hold back anymore. I like it when you throw me around and take control. I know I’m not that experienced but I’m not made of china either.”

He nodded along understandingly, and you wondered why you were ever scared of talking to him about this. Eddie was the sweetest boy you’d ever known and in the few months of your relationship, he’d made you the happiest you’d ever been.

“Okay, I hear you, sweetheart.” He replied, the hand on your cheek sliding down so it rested against your neck.

It was like a switch flipped. He could see your eyes glaze over in a quick second and your thighs squeezed around his hips. Eddie smiled deviously. “Just as I thought. I knew there had to be a reason you were so entranced with my hands earlier.” His fingertips squeezed the sides of your neck, cutting off just enough of your air flow that it sent an ache right to your core.

You couldn’t help but grind your hips again, humming in delight at the feeling of his hard member straining through his sweatpants.

“Yeah, you like that, don’t you? Dirty girl, you just wanted me to choke you this entire time, huh? You wanted my hands around your neck is that it?” You nodded as eagerly as you could in his grasp.

His grip on your waist grew tighter as he helped your guide your movements, creating delicious friction that caused a whimper to escape. “Is that all you wanted me to do?” Eddie chuckled when you shook your head no. “It’s not? What else did you want? Use your words, baby.”

You moaned feeling the stiffness in his pants rub against your aching clit. “Want you to spank me.” You managed to slur out. “Wanna feel your rings when you do.”

Eddie bit back a growl, using the hand around your neck to pull your lips to his in a bruising kiss. It nearly sucked whatever air was left in your lungs out. He was quick to tug at your shirt, one of his old Judas Priest shirts, and felt his eyes nearly roll to the back of his head at the sight of your bare breasts.

It was far from the first time he’d seen them, but they never failed take his breath away. “God, you’re so beautiful.” He groaned, diving in to suck one of your pert nipples into his mouth. Your head fell back as moans of pleasure escaped your lips, only growing louder when his hand came to occupy the tit that wasn’t currently being assaulted by his mouth.

Your tits were always so sensitive to his touch and he delighted in the pressure of your hips moving against his rapidly in search of any kind of relief. You were sure your panties were positively soaked through at this point.

“Please, Eddie,” You whined. “I need more.”

He silently obeyed, switching to suckle at your neglected nipple and using the opposite hand instead to travel down your abdomen and past the waist band of your underwear. His fingers traveled down your clothed pussy, smirking against your skin at the feeling of the drenched fabric.

“You’re soaked already, sweetheart. Did I get you this worked up? Or was it because you were being a little pervert, thinking about me choking you, spanking you until your ass is so sore you won’t be able to sit down for days?” He didn’t wait for a reply before his thumb moved to your clit, working with the fabric of your panties to rub along your bundle of nerves, smirking at the way your jaw fell slack.

Your hips rolled against his touch, chasing the orgasm that was quickly building from the stimulation of your clit. He let you use his hand until you were right on the cusp of your climax, pulling away as soon as he felt your hips stutter.

The whine that escaped was followed by Eddie’s hand cracking down onto your ass. The sound of the slap startled you before the pain set in, and yet you could only moan at the sensation. “Use your words, baby. I asked you a question.” He said, landing another smack on your ass, the skin still stinging from the first.

You were right, the feeling of his rings on your cheeks, especially as the cold metal glided when he rubbed the skin soothingly, was better than you ever imagined.

“Both–it was both.” You told him, squealing when he gave your sore ass one last spank. “Thank you, thank you.” You cried, nearly sobbing at the mixture of pain and pleasure you’d been dreaming of feeling for so long now.

Eddie gave you a mocking pout. “Aw, look at you, my sweet girl. You’re a mess and i’ve barely even touched you. Who knew you were such a little whore, huh?”

You let your hands travel down his torso, finding the seam of his shirt and tugging. He gets the hint and raises his arms, grinning as you frantically pull the item off his body. A whine came from the back of your throat when his lips met yours again, your hands moving down the soft skin of his tummy and down to the drawstring of his sweatpants. Eddie made no protests as they slipped inside, hissing against your lips when you hand made contact with his dick.

“F-fuck..” He keened, hips bucking up into your touch as you stroked him up and down.

“Eddie-“ You whimpered. “Can I suck you off? Please?”

His lips separated from yours and his head was thrown back in pleasure. “Sweetheart, if I ever say no to that, I want you to turn my stash in to the Chief so I can be locked up.”

Your cheeks warmed at his joking words and you giggled, sliding off his lap and settling between his legs on your stomach. You were quick to tug his bottoms down, mouth practically watering at the sight of his pretty cock springing up from its restraints.

Eddie’s hand flew to it, stroking teasingly in front of your eyes, reveling in the hungry look in them. “God, look at you. Here I was, being all gentle for my girl, when all she really wanted was to be treated like a slut.” He gripped the length, pointing the tip towards you and slapping it against your lips. “S’that what you want, baby? You wanna be treated like a slut? You wanna be my slut?”

You felt a pulse of desire flow straight to your cunt, and you whimpered in response, chasing the tip that was quickly moved away from your mouth. “Yes, please, Eddie. That’s all I want. Just wanna be a slut for you, only you.” You rambled back.

To think, just a few minutes before you were struggling to even mention your needs to Eddie. Now they were flowing out like it was nothing. It really just went to show how comfortable your boyfriend was able to make you.

Eddie hummed approvingly, gesturing with his chin to the massive member that stood proudly in front of your face. “Go ahead.”

You couldn’t help the grin the stretched across your lips, licking a long stripe against the length of him, running the tip along the bulging vein on the underside. “Remember, don’t hold back, okay?” You reminded him, taking the tip of his cock into your mouth.

The metal head moaned unabashedly, lacing his fingers into your hair. “Oh, sweetheart, you’re gonna wish you didn’t say that.”

Without warning, Eddie pushed your head down, forcing his cock to hit the back of your throat. You felt your throat constrict and you held back a gag. Eddie’s hips began to thrust up, fucking his cock your mouth like it would be the last time he would get the chance.

Though you both you this would be far from the last time, if anything could be said by the way your eyes rolled into the back of your head.

You tapped Eddie’s thigh to let him know that you were running out of air. He got the hint, but held your face down for a second longer, groaning at the feeling of your warm, wet throat gagging around his dick.

A gasp left your lips as soon as he released you, spit and drool leaking from your mouth like a faucet as you coughed in relief. For a second he was worried that he’d pushed you too far, but all of his concern flew out the window as soon as you began to giggle in delight. You took a hold of his cock again, rubbing the shaft across your lips to wipe the saliva that had gathered around your mouth.

“Fuck, you’re killing me.” Eddie moaned, running a hand through his wild hair. “You should’ve said something sooner, baby, i’ve wanted to do that since our first date.”

Eddie grinned down at you, stroking your cheek lovingly. Feeling bashful under his gaze, you began to press kisses against his shaft. “Will you fuck my face some more?”

The hand on your cheek moved to your chin, gripping it tightly and guiding your face to kiss. The kiss Eddie gave you was dizzying, all coherent thoughts fleeing from your brain.

“We can do whatever you want, baby. But i’ve got a better idea.”

Eddie wasted no time before helping you sit up to face the wall, pulling your shoulders down until you were flat on the bed, your head hanging off the side. You could already feel the blood rushing to your head, but Eddie’s cock was positioned proud above your face.

You didn’t notice that your thighs had closed on their own until Eddie tsked. “Trying to hide how wet you are? No, no, no, baby. That just won’t do.” Before you could blink, he was prying your legs apart, gripping the fabric of your panties and ripping them clean in half.

Honestly you weren’t that surprised that your panties that you’d gotten out of a ten pack from Walmart could rip that easily, but that fact didn’t stop the yelp from leaving your mouth. Your thighs were spread once again, hips bucking up instinctively when the cool air hit your sensitive cunt.

Eddie chuckled darkly at the whine you let out. His fingers went straight to your slit, gathering the pool of arousal that had gathered and spreading it to your clit. His touch was like fire across your skin and you were so desperate at that point that the moans began to flow out. He gave you no warning before his fingers slipped past your entrance, creating a rapid pace that had you seeing spots.

The wet squelch of your sopping cunt being abused by your boyfriends hand was downright filthy, and if you weren’t so overcome by pleasure you would’ve been embarrassed.

With your eyes clenched tight, you didn’t notice the movement of Eddie’s hips until you felt the his tip nudge your upper lip. You didn’t need verbal directions, your mouth falling open on its own accord and greedily welcoming in his cock.

The pace of his fingers was matched by the thrust of his hips. It was hard to focus on anything when so much was happening to you. Both of Eddie’s hands were on your cunt, two of his fingers on his right hand plunging in and out of your hole and his left thumb circling your clit. At the same time, his cock was hitting the back of your throat over and over, his heavy sack swinging below so quickly that you could feel it slapping against your nose.

His musky scent was evading your senses, and before you knew it, you were cumming. It was so sudden that you couldn’t give Eddie a warning, but he helped you through your orgasm, keeping his movements going at a decreasing pace and muttering comforts.

“Yeah, that’s it, baby. You’re doing so good for me, such a good girl. Love to watch you fall apart.” His thrusts slowed until he was able to slip out of your mouth without startling you. “Feel good?” He smirked.

You payed no mind to the drool dripping down your cheek, your body still twitching with the aftershocks of your climax. You had no doubt that the sheets beneath your ass were soaked in your release.

The lazy nod you gave him had him grinning. He leaned down so his face was level with yours, pressing a loving kiss to your wet cheek. “Look at you, all dumb and cock drunk for me. There’s not a thought in that head besides me fucking you, is there, baby?”

You wanted to be good and give him an answer, but when you opened your mouth, all that escaped were mindless babbles.

Eddie’s deep chuckle sent a shiver down your spine, face flushing under his dark gaze. “That’s okay. I hate to disappoint you, but I don’t think my cock is gonna be able to fuck that warm little pussy tonight.”

The whine you let out was almost embarrassing, but all you cared about was the ache in your cunt, your hole pulsing with the need to feel him stretching you out and filling you up.

“What? My dumb little baby needs more? After I already fucked your face and made you cum on my fingers? Are you that greedy, baby?”

You could feel the tears stinging in your eyes, partially from shame at his words and partially because you just needed him so bad.

Eddie sighed dramatically, looking up as if he was pondering what to do. In the back of your hazy mind, you knew that he had nothing to think about. “Alright how about this–“ He stood to his full height, once again setting his cock against your lips. “I’ll consider giving you what you want, fucking you until the neighbors start complaining, if you let me come down your throat first. S’that good?”

The look in your eyes was so desperate that Eddie almost felt bad for teasing you.

“Mhm, please,” You rasped out, finally finding your voice again. Your hands came up to his thighs, pulling his crotch closer to your face, smiling as you nuzzled your nose into his balls. “I want it so bad, please. Wanna know taste you, wanna swallow it all.”

“Shit, baby. I really hit the jackpot with you, didn’t I?” It was a rhetorical question.

Eddie’s cock slipped back past your lips and you hummed around him happily. The vibrations caused Eddie to let out a whimper himself, his hand coming to rest around your neck. “Fuck,” Eddie shuddered, stroking his head against your throat. “I can feel my cock through your throat, baby.”

His whines were like a harmony to your own muffled moans, bringing your hand up to fondle his heavy sack. Eddie’s head fell back, his jaw dropping open as his thrusts into your throat grew faster. His hand left your neck and traveled to your tits, grabbing and pulling at your nipples. Your brought your hand to meet his, intertwining your fingers together.

“Oh, god. I’m gonna cum, baby. Gonna cum down your throat.” He whined, cock poisoning in and out of your mouth.

His thrusts grew sloppy and you knew he was seconds away from his orgasm. So you took a chance, reaching back to grab the side of his hips and pulling him flush to your face. Eddie let out a choked shout, his warm seed filling your throat and mouth. You could feel yourself wanting to gag and cough, taking deep breaths in through your nose to fight through it. Eddies moans faded into hushed whimpers, giving you a few more lazy thrusts before he pulled out of your mouth.

You could feel some of his cum drip out the side of your mouth from your position and you were quick to flip on to your stomach. When you looked back up at Eddie, he was holding his cock, stroking it lazily and giving you a dizzy grin. Without a word, you opened your mouth as wide as you could without spilling any of his cum, proudly sticking your tongue out like you were a show dog.

Eddie brought his hand to your chin again, pressing his lips to yours. His mouth opened against yours and you let some of his cum spill into it. The two of you moaned in tandem, kissing sloppily and paying now mind to the droplets of cum that were escaping your joint lips. It felt like hours that you laid there, making out lazily and slowly building up the arousal and tension between you.

When he finally pulled away, all of his cum had been swapped between you until it had all been swallowed. Your thighs were clenched together in search of some friction, and you could see Eddie’s cock beginning to stir.

“Now,” He said breathily, pressing another kiss to your lips. “I did say I would consider giving you what you want. What do you think, baby? Were you good for me?”

You nodded eagerly, lip jutting out into a a needy pout. Eddie grinned. “Well then. Good girls deserve rewards, don’t they?’

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