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haledamage · 1 year

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Chin for Kira and Adam 👀👀

[ CHIN ]: as they stand close to one another, the sender hooks a finger and tenderly lifts the receiver’s chin, tilting it up so that they can look at one another, and running a thumb across their skin lightly.

A bit of closure I found missing from TWC book 3. Spoilers for pretty much the whole book. 1700 words, Kira/Adam, also starring my truest Wayhaven OTP, Kira/Emotional Vulnerability because my girl thinks she’s Elsa. You can’t “conceal, don’t feel, don’t let them know” your way out of this one, Kingston, with musical guest “Adam’s attempt to distance himself is no match for Kira being sad”

There was an envelope on the kitchen table that had Kira’s name on it.

She approached it cautiously, half expecting it to be another fancy invite to some horrifying auction. When nothing jumped out of the shadows or attempted to kidnap her, she gave in to her gnawing curiosity and picked it up.

It looked like a perfectly normal letter, addressed to “Agent Kingston” with the facility’s address underneath. A yellow sticky note was attached to the front covered in Rebecca’s familiar, tidy handwriting:

“Kira, This letter was given to me by mistake. I apologise for opening it, but I promise I stopped reading as soon as I realised it was written to you.”

Kira laughed fondly to herself at her mother’s message. Always so formal, even when accidentally committing mail fraud.

She turned the envelope over to find the neat slit that had been cut across the top, and pulled out the simple sheet of notebook paper inside. She didn’t recognise the handwriting, so she scanned the note quickly to see who it was from and why:

The Agency told me this was the best way to get in touch with you. I really hope they gave me the right person because otherwise I’m going to sound crazy. I guess there are two Agent Kingstons here? This is for the one in Unit Bravo, so if you aren’t her, can you get this to her? Thanks.

Hi. You probably don’t remember me. But I wanted to thank you for saving my life. If it wasn’t for you, I’d be in Trapper custody now. Or worse.

I don’t know how you did it. The last thing I remember was that big man with wings taking me, and then I woke up in the hospital a few days ago. The doctors said someone found me unconscious in town and brought me in.

The rest of the words on the page blurred as Kira’s eyes filled with tears. Her knees gave out under her, and she didn’t bother trying to catch herself before she collapsed to the floor, clutching the letter tightly as she tried to breathe around the lump of emotion in her throat.

As if in a daze, she looked down at her arms, her mind conjuring the memory of long, jagged lacerations carved into them, and the girl that had done it. She remembered her face with vivid clarity, wide-eyed with terror as Sin had practically ripped her from Kira’s grasp.

Several of those marks had scarred, leaving a permanent reminder of that day etched into her skin. One of them bisected the tattoo on her wrist, the black crown broken into two uneven pieces. Numbly, she pressed her thumb to it; she could feel the frantic flutter of her own pulse underneath.

“Kira? Kira!”

She barely heard her name being called. The first time, cautious and surprised, or the second, harsher with the edge of fear.

But she felt it when Adam joined her on the floor. His arrival broke through her daze and what little remained of her composure, and tears flowed freely down her cheeks.

Adam’s hands shook as he wiped them away. Kira could feel the tremble in his fingertips where they brushed her face. She covered his hands with her own before he could try to hide it, pressing them more firmly against her skin. Even after everything, she still craved his touch, greedy for every second of it she could get.

He swallowed hard, but didn’t pull away. “What’s wrong? What can I do?”

She shook her head, attempting to give him a shaky smile. “Nothing. Everything is fine.” It sounded so ridiculous, she couldn’t help but laugh. It just sounded like a sob.

Finding the fallen letter on the floor, now tear-stained and partially crumpled, she held it out to him. She watched his expression as he scanned it, but whatever reaction he may have had never showed on his face.

Somehow, Kira’s voice remained strong, even if the rest of her was falling apart. “When she wasn’t with the others at the auction, I--I thought she was--” She didn’t know if she meant to say “dead” or “already sold”, or which would have been the worse fate. A new wave of tears came, and she squeezed her eyes shut as if it could stop them. “But she never made it to the auction. Sin never handed her over. He saved her.”

Adam hooked a finger under her chin, gently coaxing her to open her eyes and look at him. When she did, he smiled softly, eyes warm and shining with pride. “He didn’t save her, Kira.” His thumb brushed lightly over the swell of her bottom lip. “You did.”

A ragged sob tore its way out of her throat, and Kira buried her face in Adam’s shoulder before another one could escape. His arms immediately wrapped around her, pulling her closer until she was practically in his lap.

Through everything that had happened these last few weeks, Kira had refused to let herself cry. She had kept moving, one persistent step at a time, bottling up all her pain and fear and heartbreak. Through the bounty, and the kidnappings, and the breaking and slow mending of her friendship with Verda. Through too much work on too little sleep, and juggling more and more secrets, and buildings collapsing on her head. Through swallowing her rage as she met Anwir’s eyes and hiding it behind a hollow but convincing smile. Through the constant tidal flow of Adam’s affection, pulling her close only to push her away again while all she could do was try to weather the currents.

If she was honest with herself, she’d been fighting to hold everything in for a lot longer than that. Since Murphy’s assault on her apartment. Since she learned the truth about the supernatural. Maybe since the first moment Unit Bravo had stepped into her office.

But this one tiny, unexpected victory had shattered all her hard wrought restraint. The bottle was broken, and everything came pouring out.

Adam held her through all of it, warm and strong and solid, the only place in the world that she felt truly, completely safe. His hands were a soothing weight in her hair and down her spine, his voice a comforting rumble in her ear, though she was too far gone to process anything he was saying.

Even when Kira finally ran out of tears, he didn’t seem to be in any hurry to let her go. That felt new. A delicate tendril of hope unfurled in her chest, and for once she let herself feel it without trying to push it away.

Taking a deep and blissfully unfettered breath, she sat up a little, just far enough to rest her temple against his cheekbone. “Thank you.”

Adam chuckled, a gentle and fond sound that made her heart do somersaults. “There is nothing you need to thank me for.”

She leaned back a little more so she could see his face. “For being here to put me back together. Again.” This time when she laughed, she sounded like herself again.

Adam brushed her hair out of her eyes before settling his hand against her cheek. “I will always be here for you, Kira.”

“I know.” And she did know, but it felt so good to hear it out loud. She mapped out the shape of his smile with her fingertips, tracing the curve of his lips and the slight indentations of his dimples. Committing all of it to memory. “I’m here for you too. Whenever you need me.”

“I know.” He almost sounded like he believed it. That was new too.

Before either of them could sabotage the moment by overthinking it, Kira leaned in and kissed him.

It was nothing like the first kiss they shared. There was no edge of despair or desperation, none of the bitter taste of “goodbye”. It was slow and sweet, heat simmering under the surface but never boiling over to become something else. Hungry, but without any bite.

Adam broke away first, gasping in a shaky breath, and Kira braced herself for the inevitable moment when he closed himself off again. With as raw as her emotions were, she’d need a little more time to swallow down the pain.

Except it never came.

When he turned away, it was only to brush his lips against the inside of her wrist. He trailed light kisses along the length of one of her new scars, followed by a firmer kiss on the broken crown tattoo, and a final one in the center of her palm.

He looked up at her, naked need in his eyes and his lips still pressed to her skin, and she forgot how to breathe.

It took every ounce of restraint she could muster for Kira not to immediately grab him and kiss him again.

Adam didn’t give her the opportunity. He dropped her hand and his gaze, suddenly unable to look at her anymore. Clearing his throat did nothing to make his voice less rough. “How do you feel?”

Weightless. Like if you keep kissing me like that, I could fly. “My head is fucking pounding.” It was also the truth, but a much safer one. Still, she couldn’t help but add, “Except for that, I feel great, actually.”

The glint in his eyes told her that maybe he’d heard the part she didn’t say, too. He knew her too well not to. “Then I shall make you some tea, to help with your headache.”

“Wait.” She grabbed his shoulders as soon as he started to move away, clenching her hands into his shirt like it would make any difference if he actually wanted to leave. “Can we… just stay like this a little longer?”

Adam didn’t respond except by settling back down on the floor. He leaned his back against a nearby side table, and then his arms wrapped around her again, pulling her close. Kira released a breath she hadn’t realised she was holding. She rested her head on his shoulder and melted against him, trusting him to hold her up.

The rest of the world would still be waiting for them, when they finally decided to move. But for the first time in a long time, Kira felt ready to face it… eventually.

#rhi writes #twc #kira kingston #kira/adam #it bugged me that even though we as players knew what happened to that girl the detective never found out #so I wanted to give kira some closure and she decided 'oh I'm going to fall apart about this thanks'#sometimes you just gotta have an emotional breakdown in the kitchen at 10am ¯\_(ツ)_/¯#I like to think the rest of unit bravo started to walk in on them #but felix went NOPE LET THEM HAVE THIS and shooed nate and mason away before they could interrupt #(kira is one of those people who looks pretty when she cries and I hate her for this a little bit)

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ardenigh · 1 year

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It was fun reading about Lucky and I’ve thought of several questions about him:

1) How did Tegan die and how was he brought back?

2) What was Tegan’s life like?

3) What sort of person is Tegan’s brother?

4) What is Lucky’s daily routine?

5) Does anyone else in Tegan’s family know about Lucky? If so, how are they taking it?

6) How similar/ different are Tegan and Lucky’s personalities?

7) Besides Dmitri and the helmet, does Lucky keep anything from Tegan?

8) Would Tegan’s brother dig further into denial as time goes on or would he accept that Lucky is a person of their own?

9) Would Lucky ever be comfortable at looking at Tegan’s face?

it is once again... Lucky Hour

(thank you sm for the ask and the wait, omg! this got really ungainly really fast bc i like talking too much about my boy, so I'm dropping a cut here!)

It was fun reading about Lucky and I’ve thought of several questions about him:

1) How did Tegan die and how was he brought back?

He was brought back à la Shepard in an effort led by his older brother, a talented neurologist willing to call in every last favor he'd accrued over his career. Experimental cybernetics and nanotech to knit the corpse back together… synthetic neural weaves to shore up and repair the brain damage… The aim was to rebuild his damaged parts, resuscitate his basic autonomic functions and, in turn, facilitate the recovery and augmentation of his higher functions - all with the end goal of bringing his little brother back.

As for how Tegan died?

Motorcycle accident.

Eyes on the road, guys.

2) What was Tegan’s life like?

Probably less legitimate than most people’s - not that he ever let his mother know, back when she was alive. Ostensibly, he was just an apprentice at a tattoo parlor and liked frequenting the library. Beneath that, though, he had a familiarity with the city’s rougher crowds and lesser-known corners. A known neutral party to those interested in such things, Tegan was the king of the illegal street racing scene and a popular racer to bet on. ‘Course, being so familiar with the fast and loose life, Tegan was no stranger to witnessing other crimes from time to time. Some of his old racing buddies, the ones who know how observant he was, think that Tegan’s death was no coincidence - but they know to keep their voices down.

3) What sort of person is Tegan’s brother?

Janus… is a perfectionist, a visionary, and a brilliant academic to boot - he holds a Ph.D. in neuroscience and a master’s in software engineering, and he fully intends to broaden his wheelhouse as he goes. He’s also very much the picture of a resentful older sibling for most of his and Tegan’s upbringing, because, like - while he studied the blade, Tegan was out here goofing off and getting into trouble and still somehow being the favorite son, to salt the wound. Of course, what he lacks in close connection and open communication (and he really is lacking there), he makes up for with a ferocious tenacity. If this man sees something worth salvaging, he will immediately lock his jaws on it and he will not accept failure as an option.

He knows he should have tried more with Tegan, and he refuses to entertain the thought of never having that second chance.

4) What is Lucky’s daily routine?

For the most part, Lucky is a courier and busy with it; lets him combine his love of riding with an easy way to see new things and meet new people. He lives on lots of little catnaps interspersed with lots of running around - it’s not unusual to see him out and about early in the morning, and again in the middle of the night.

His routine is a little like this: deliver package, stop by new hole in the wall place he passed earlier, deliver package, head home to sleep and feed dmitri. head over to janus’s lab for mnemonic exercises and a vitals check. deliver package. Find a new piece of media to delve into. Take nap. Leave city limits to stargaze.

Not necessarily like that all the time, of course, or in that order.

5) Does anyone else in Tegan’s family know about Lucky? If so, how are they taking it?

Oh, no. Going down the list, it’s like - father passed when the boys were little… mother a couple years before Tegan’s accident… between Janus’s aversion to regular communication and busy student life, and also Tegan being none too keen on letting on that he’s making a living racing illegally, neither one is close with their relatives.

The most they know is that Tegan was hurt. He’s made a full recovery, though, so don’t worry, no need to visit (says Janus, stonewalling every single attempt while also frantically trying to snap his brother out of whatever delusion of identity he’s working through).

Now, Tegan's associates, on the other hand… some are very concerned about the sudden personality changes.

6) How similar/ different are Tegan and Lucky’s personalities?

They both love an adrenaline rush! They’re also both pretty social and will initiate conversations. Neither of them actively seeks romance or relationships, (‘no one in this city can handle me,’ says tegan. ‘i’ve existed for, like, three weeks,’ says lucky.) They’re also both good at compartmentalizing when they need to.

Tegan is louder, for sure, though - he’s developed an affectation of infuriating nonchalance after years of being constantly dealt his brother’s disapproval, the “why are you always like X” and “why do you never do Y.” He will not be judged, thanks, and certainly not by the guy who only communicates in criticism and academic citation.

Lucky is still chatty, but he speaks a little softer, and he pays more attention to the people around him. He skirts around people in a crowd rather than walking straight through. He’s taken by small details and twice as observant as his template, and people who knew Tegan are a little unnerved by how much more insightful he is, these days. Novelty makes him gentler, keener to listen in. He still shares Tegan’s pull to go fast at all times, though.

To sum up the main difference, though: Tegan will tank a sucker punch and grin through bloodied teeth.

Lucky will dodge.

7) Besides Dmitri and the helmet, does Lucky keep anything from Tegan?

Aside from all the basic identifying and legal assets? Tegan's apartment for one (although he does take care to partition everything that's not his own). Walking in, you would think two people were living there - only, one of them has been away for so long that an atmosphere of neglect has settled over his things. It takes a long while for Lucky to peek into Tegan’s collection of books and journals, so they’ve been getting a bit dusty. Can’t bring himself to throw anything, though. Feels disrespectful.

Tegan’s bike was completely totaled in the accident, though. Lucky would have kept it, otherwise.

8) Would Tegan’s brother dig further into denial as time goes on or would he accept that Lucky is a person of their own?

Ooh, that is a very good question, like, thematically. Janus is the reigning champion of not letting things go, tbh; it wouldn’t just take time, either. It would take a slow, methodical dismantling of everything Janus thought he knew about Tegan. It would take little, sharp instances of realization, that Tegan had passions and hobbies that he’d had no idea of. That Tegan had always looked up to him, behind the cavalier rebel front. That, really, when it came down to it, he never really knew his little brother at all.

Honestly? First he has to accept that he can’t fix this; it’s too late, and his brother is gone.

Only then will he even begin to be able to accept Lucky as his own person.

Something something Janus’s stages of grief go: anger, bargaining, denial denial denial…

9) Would Lucky ever be comfortable at looking at Tegan’s face?

Yes! I mean, very early on, he hardly even had a problem looking in the mirror - like, it was tragic and all, and of course he harbors a lot of curiosity about who this other guy was, but it was only up until people started expecting him to be Tegan that it started to cause him discomfort. Once he has a firm grasp on who he is, ‘cause he’s still feeling that out, and once certain people understand that he’s Not The Guy They Want, then he’d be able to look himself in the eyes without wanting to crawl out of his own skin a little bit.

bonus: quick doodle of tegan and lucky for a bit of feature comparison

#this did Not want to be posted lol. begging pleading Please Turn Blue @ post button #i'm going to put myself on the spot here this has been in my inbox! for A! Month! a MONTH the sheer amt of patience required #vastly gracious of u ngl thank u #nyway things r lookin up spoonswise but also I've been hecka sick for a hot minute. you know that thing where like #you mix a spoonful of honey into a cup of lime juice and then slam it?? idk if that helps like it is said to #but man if it didn't give me instant heartburn for 20 years #i am hearing the Just Drink Onion Water from all sides it is insane #i'm not even opposed to the concept i'm opposed to its tiktok popularity #like i already drink weird concoctions on the regular man i just prefer to get them sourced from the weird guy who lives three streets down #this aint about me though its about my Boy #and the now abundantly clear fact that his entire story is for me an exploration into the stages of grief and what it means to find closure #but its also abt the novelty of finding things that bring YOU joy regardless of the expectations others have. and its about grape soda #oc: tegan ''lucky'' holloway #ty for the ask!

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trujellyfish · 2 years

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sometimes i read voltron fics and think "awww maybe i should rewatch :)" but then i remember how they treated lance >:(

#especially since they kept like #hinting towards dealing with his issues #but they didnt???#what was even the point of shiro's spirit calling out to lance like you went NOWHERE with that #the whole garfle whurfle snik debacle or however u spell it who cares #'lets treat this character like the butt of every joke and make him feel like an outcast and SHOW that he is actually affected by all this'#'and then give him the development he des-'#'ayo we came up with more content for keith and shiro'#'OH THANK GOD'#like no offence to keith and shiro #who like. i also feel like they ruined them. i mean they literally killed shiro #and showed he was suffering from ptsd #and again. no development or closure #he was not given a satisfying journey #but lance is the one i project onto so its him i care the most about haha 😅✌️

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theostrophywife · 10 months

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focus on me.

pairing: mattheo riddle x reader request: I NEED MATHEO OR THEODORE X FEM READER AND SHE JUST LOVES HIS HANDS AND ARM VIENS AND SHE WALKS INTO HIS DORM AND IS GOBSMAKED TO SEE HIS ABS AND SHE WANTS TO RIDE THEM AND SHES JUST SO OBSESSED AND THINKS HES THE HOTTEST MAN IN THE PLANET- AND SHE FOLDS LIKE A PRETZEL WHEN HE GIVES HER THOSE EYES- JESUS IM A CATHOLIC BUT THEO AND MATTHEO COULD BE MY NEW RELIGION- author's note: big thanks to @writingsbychlo for listening to me rant about this man in her inbox. posting this now so she can wake up to her mans. the way that i would fold for mattheo so fast (theo look away). anyways, enjoy this purely smutty fic 😮‍💨

You were supposed to be studying.

When you came into his dorm, you specifically told Mattheo not to interrupt you under any circumstances. Usually, you preferred the library but some prat had accidentally set off a dung bomb, which meant closure until further notice.

You tried studying in your dorm, but your fellow housemates decided that there was no better time to throw a back to school bash in the common room than the night before your Ancient Runes exam. Harry and Ron, who shared the same class, appeared completely unbothered as they chugged firewhisky straight from the bottle.

Your roommate Hermione was long gone. Probably holed up somewhere in the dungeons with Draco. You followed your friend’s cue and snuck into your boyfriend’s dorm, narrowly avoiding Filch. It never seemed fair that the Slytherins got individual rooms, but tonight you had never been more thankful for it.

Mattheo had set up a whole battle station for you on his desk. There were fresh ink pots, newly sharpened quills, and blank parchment waiting for you when you arrived. After kissing your sweet and considerate boyfriend, you went straight to work.

By the time midnight struck, the parchment was filled with glowing runes, making your ink stained hands cramp from drawing out the symbols over and over again. To Mattheo’s credit, he kept to himself and read quietly on his bed while you studied.

You were so engrossed in the material that you barely registered him kissing you on the cheek before leaving to take a shower. That little mistake cost you because as soon as he walked back into his dorm with nothing but a towel on, you nearly spilled fresh ink all over yourself.

Water trickled down Mattheo’s chest, the little droplets snaking through his perfectly chiseled abs only to disappear beyond his v lines, which pointed like an arrow to what you knew was hiding underneath that towel.

The fabric hung dangerously low on his hips as he walked over to his dresser to pick out something to wear. You watched with rapt attention as he braced himself against the wood, those delicious, juicy veins protruding from his forearms and nearly making you dizzy with desire.

Finally, Mattheo turned. The silence had caught his attention and he smirked when he saw you ogling him.

“See something you like, pretty girl?”

You flushed. “Just got a little distracted.”

Mattheo’s grin grew. He sauntered over to you, leaning over so that he had you caged against the desk.

“Oh?” he asked, his voice low and husky and absolutely fucking sexy. “Maybe it’s time for a break then. You’ve been such a good girl studying so hard all night. I think you deserve a reward, my love.”

Your breath hitched as Mattheo’s lips grazed yours. He tilted your chin up, giving you a perfect view of those brown eyes. Then he gave you the look and you knew you were done for.

It was a look that said he wanted to devour every inch of you until you couldn’t even recall your own name. You gave in. Of course you gave in. How could you not?

“Maybe for a second…”

Mattheo took the opening. One arm snaked around your waist, bringing you up with him as he pressed you against the desk. His other arm crept up your back until he reached the nape of your neck, fisting your hair through his fingers as he kissed you roughly.

“Do you even know how fucking sexy you are, princess? My smart schoolgirl in her tiny little skirt.”

Mattheo carefully moved your studying materials aside before picking you up and setting you down on the table. He gripped the top of your thighs and brought you to the edge while sliding his tongue against yours. You whimpered as he grinded against you, showing you exactly how hard he was underneath the towel.

“Been thinking about bending you over this table all night,” Mattheo whispered in your ear. His hand climbed higher up your thigh and you felt your body instantly respond to his touch. “Bet you’re soaking wet for me already, aren’t you angel?”

You moaned as he toyed with the waistband of your panties. “Matty, please.”

Your boyfriend smiled at your nickname for him, knowing that he had you right where he wanted you. “What is it that you want, darling?”

“Touch me. Please.”

Mattheo smirked as he tugged your panties off. His lust filled gaze drank you in as he dragged two fingers through your slick folds.

“Fuck. You’re so wet. Is this all for me, princess?”

“Mhm,” you mumbled, nipping at his neck. “It’s not fair. You play dirty, Matty. You can’t just walk in here with nothing but a towel on.”

“Why not, angel?”

You sighed, tracing the hard planes of his chest. His muscles flexed under your fingertips as you gently raked your nails against his six pack. “Because you’re sexy and I can’t help myself.”

Mattheo chuckled darkly, plunging two fingers in your pussy. You bucked against his hand, watching in stunned silence as he withdrew it only to stick his middle and pointer finger into his mouth. His eyes rolled to the back of his head as he tasted you on him.

“This is exactly what I mean,” you whined. “For Godric’s fucking sake, how am I supposed to concentrate after that?”

“Maybe we can compromise, angel.” He shuffled through your parchments and stuck one to the wall. “I’m going to trace the runes inside of you and if you get them all right, then I’ll give you your reward.”

You swallowed thickly and nodded. Mattheo grinned before giving you a quick peck. “Pay attention, sweetheart.”

His fingers dipped through your folds once more and you gripped his arm, fighting the moan from escaping your lips. Mattheo curled his fingers inside of you, drawing a familiar shape.

“Urus,” you said in a breathy voice. “It means strength.”

“That’s right, angel.” He shifted as you ran your hands down his arms. You could feel his veins throbbing underneath your palm as he fingered you. “Don’t get distracted now. I know how much you love my hands. I promise they’ll be wrapped around your throat by the end of the night if you get all these right. Now focus.”

You nodded, eyes fluttering close as he traced another rune. “Algiz,” you answered. “For protection.”

“Hot and smart,” Mattheo announced proudly. “How’d I get so lucky?”

His lips grazed yours and you willingly parted for him, fluttering around his fingers as his tongue slid into your mouth. He pumped his digits inside of you, teasing and taunting.

“Let’s try something harder, princess.”

Mattheo’s skillful fingers prodded against your walls, sketching a complicated shape. You closed your eyes and focused. It was a tricky one, but you remembered the cris cross pattern.

“Inguz,” you said decidedly. “Fertility.”

“That’s right,” Mattheo said with a smile. “You're doing so well, sweetheart. One more and you can have anything you want.”

“Anything?” you asked with a small smile.

“Whatever that devious little mind of yours desires, my love.”

“Okay,” you replied. “I’m ready, then.”

Your boyfriend nodded, staring right into your eyes as he marked the last and final rune. It was an effort not to get lost in those warm, brown eyes. But you steeled yourself, determined to claim your prize.

“Rerth. For luck.”

“Good girl,” Mattheo said with a smirk. “Fitting since you’re getting lucky tonight, angel. Where should we start?”

You bit your lip, cocking your head at him. It was nearly an impossible choice. You wanted to kiss him. Bite him. Lick him. All of the above and more.

But there was one thing that stood out from all the other deliciously sinful choices. You pressed your palm against his abs and grinned.

“I want to ride your abs.”

Mattheo’s eyes widened. He hadn’t expected it, but fuck he was so down. He would’ve given you anything with the way you were looking at him right now.

“You never fail to surprise me,” he said fondly. “Well come on then, let’s make your filthy little fantasy a reality.”

In one smooth move, he lifted you off the table and deposited you on top of his bed. Mattheo reclined against the headboard and watched with hungry eyes as you straddled his stomach. He smiled as you slipped the tie off your neck and looped it around him.

It was a simple move, but so fucking sexy and possessive at the same time. You were claiming him. Mattheo was yours and you were his. You belonged to one another—mind, body, and soul.

Mattheo trailed kisses down your neck and throat, leaving marks on your skin as his deft fingers made quick work of the first few buttons on your blouse. He leaned back and admired his work, his hands gripping your hips while you grinded your soaking wet sex against his muscles.

He didn’t think it would feel this good. There was something about you using his body to get yourself off that fucking turned him on like no other. Mattheo lifted your skirt up, fisting the fabric in his hands and watching as you coated him with your arousal.

The little whimpers you were making sounded like music to his ears. “My good little slut,” he said, squeezing your tits as you rode him with reckless abandon. “You’re so fucking filthy, baby. Using me to get yourself off. I’m just your fuck toy aren’t I princess?”

“So good,” you murmured. “You feel so good, Matty.”

The desperation in your voice set him off. He gripped your hips hard enough to bruise and bucked forward, smirking in satisfaction when you moaned. The ridges of his abs rubbed against your clit, providing the perfect amount of pressure to the sensitive area.

“Keep riding me,” he said in a low, rough voice. “Just like that, angel. Such a good girl for me.”

You closed your eyes, lost to the waves of pleasure coursing through your body. Mattheo gripped your chin, his voice rough around the edges as he spoke. “Open your eyes, darling. I want to watch you cum.”

His rich brown eyes pinned you in place, drinking in every detail. That sexy smirk curved against his lips as he hooked his arms behind his head, admiring the view of his girl riding him.

“Look at you, baby. You’re making such a fucking mess. Such an innocent face, but you turn into a filthy whore when you’re with me.”

“Only for you, Mattheo.”

“Damn fucking right,” he said, sliding his hands under your skirt to rub at your clit.

You bucked against him, riding out the high. Heat exploded in your core and seeped into your veins. Mattheo kissed you roughly, staking his claim on you as he devoured your moans.

“That’s it, princess. Cum for me, pretty girl.”

The orgasm felt like a lightning strike. It hit you all at once, making your walls spasm as you came all over Mattheo’s abs. He cursed when he felt you soaking him through, utterly turned on by the mess that you’ve made. Mattheo had never been harder in his life.

Your boyfriend peppered kisses on your face, pulling you taut to him as you came down from the high. Mattheo brushed a lock of hair behind your ear, tilting your chin up so he could press his lips against yours. He groaned and held your hips down, grinding his boner against your ass.

“I’m not done making you cum, princess. You’ve got one more in you, don’t you angel?”

As sensitive as you were, your pussy throbbed at his words. When it came to Mattheo, you could never really get enough.

“I thought I only got one reward. You’re spoiling me, Matty.”

“There’s no question about it. You’re my spoiled rotten little princess. But this reward isn’t for you, it’s for me.” He smacked your ass, gesturing for you to get up. “Now come on, angel. I was serious about that desk.”

He smirked as he walked you back to his desk, his hands disappearing underneath your skirt as he massaged your ass. Mattheo kissed you roughly before he flipped you over, bending you on the desk so you were face down and ass up. He flipped your skirt up, hissing when he found you soaking wet again.

“You just can’t help yourself can you, princess?” He pumped himself in his hand before sliding the tip of his cock along your folds. “Gods, you’re fucking wet. Are you ready, baby?”

You whimpered, rocking your hips against him for more friction. Mattheo held you in place, fisting your hair in his hands.

“Use your words, darling. I want to hear you beg like the good little slut that you are.”

“Please, Matty,” you whined. “I need you so badly that it hurts.”

He kissed the base of your spine, grinning as he eased his length inside of you. Still sensitive from your last orgasm, you gripped the edges of the table as Mattheo buried his cock within your walls. Your legs felt like they were going to give out any minute, but he kept you upright, cursing when he felt how wet and tight you were.

“Fuck,” he grunted as he thrust into you slowly. Mattheo gripped you from behind, picking up the pace. Your pussy clenched around him like a vice. “Gods, pussy’s so good baby. You’re doing so well. Taking all of me like my perfect little whore.”

Mattheo fucking adored the way you blushed at his filthy words. He leaned over, capturing your lips in a sloppy kiss as he fucked you into the table. He thought he was going to pass the fuck out when you grinded back into him, meeting his movements to take more and more of him. Mattheo leaned over and shielded your head from the wall, making sure you were protected as the table shook underneath you.

The sound of skin slapping against skin mixed with your breathy little moans was enough to send him over the edge, but he wanted to make good on his promise. Mattheo always put his girl first. The boys were right. He might be just a little bit pussy whipped.

Even without the sex, you could’ve asked Mattheo to kill for you and he would’ve done so without question.

“I fucking love you, darling. I’d kill for you. I’d die for you,” he said, every word laced with conviction. “Forever and always.”

“I love you too, Matty. Forever and always.”

He kissed your cheek, the action surprisingly soft compared to how rough the sex was. You felt like you could’ve melted onto the floor.

“Cum with me, my love.”

Mattheo wrapped his arms around you as that familiar heat spread burned in your core. He held you as the orgasm rocked through your body, sharing in the euphoric high while the two of you finished together. His grip around you only tightened, hugging you from behind while he slowly pulled out. You were barely keeping upright as it was, your legs threatening to give out under you.

Without a word, your boyfriend scooped you into his arms and brought you back to bed. He cradled you against him, whispering praises and encouragement while stroking your hair.

“You did so well, baby. I’m so proud of you for remembering all those runes. You’re gonna ace your exam tomorrow.”

“You really think so, Matty?” You snuggled against him, burying your head in the crook of his neck. Mattheo stroked your back and placed a kiss on your temple.

“I know so, darling. You have no idea how proud I am for having such a smart girlfriend. I love bragging about you to our friends.”

You flushed. “Well, I couldn’t have done it all on my own. I had some help from my smart, sweet, and sexy study partner.

Mattheo grinned and kissed you gently. “Glad to be of service, my love.”

taglist: @annaisabookworm @marina468

please let me know if you'd like to be added.

#FERAL FOR THIS MAN #THE DELULU IS THE SOLULU #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle smut #mattheo riddle fluff #mattheo riddle x y/n #mattheo x you #benjamin wadsworth

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8n53 · 1 year

Note

im thinking about the blackquill investigations game post (as i do) and could you imagine. phantom adopting brand new personas on the fly whenever the situation calls for it and blackquill trying to keep up and play along. phantom being deadpan a lot of the time but occasionally throwing out little jokes and sarcastic jabs that blackquill cant help but smirk at. blackquill watching phantom slowly develop likes and dislikes and opinions and thinking to himself about how this is the same person who not too long ago called themselves an "endless abyss". help

#aa5 spoilers #ace attorney spoilers // that post is SO dangerous for me because im not allowed to want phantom and simon to have a relationship that isnt complete animosity its not right theyre crimes are too reprehensible but my animal brain doesnt care i want. i dont even know what i want between them but the idea of them working together and phantom discovering themselves and feeling FEELINGS and having to deal with it is a siren call its dangerous i cant entertain the thought i cant(im entertaining it im entertaining it so much)

#☁️txt #its not woobifying its not its not giving them feelings is torture im torturing them because i hate them so much (<- denial)#thank you for the ask i feel like i answered this weirdly . im incapable.of talking abt phantom in a normal way genuinely for real #i love ur thoughts i love this dynamic #i want simon to make them face themself and their crimes for worse AND for better #and more than anything i need CLOSURE between these two NOW or im going to EXPLODE #aa5 spoilers #ace attorney spoilers

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criminalamnesia · 5 months

Text

ending 2 for tolerate it! this was my original idea for the ending!

I just wanted to clarify that I’m writing these two endings bc of the feedback I’ve received. The first ending is for those who wanted them to reconcile/make amends, and I wanted to give those readers some closure.

this ending is for those who want reader to be happy without him (which was my original idea lol). anyways I know a lot of people didn’t like ending 1 and that’s okay!! but here’s ending two, I hope you like it better :)

[ also, this takes place in between the time that reader leaves simon/price and the last line of part two! ]

part one here, part two here, ending 1 here

your friend graciously let you live with them for a few months while you got back on your feet.

you went to therapy. stopped crying whenever you thought of him or even his name. started taking care of yourself again.

you move out and find this cute little house. it’s small, cozy. you adore it, and your friend helps you move in.

you make it your own with colors and trinkets and pictures. there’s nothing in that house that serves as a reminder of your time with him. you’d gotten rid of all the pictures, all the gifts he’d bought you before things turned sour.

fuck him. he didn’t deserve to see your growth and your happiness. he didn’t deserve anything from you.

you get used to being on your own again. it’s nice. you don’t worry about a man who is halfway across the world. don’t worry about baking a cake for his return or setting up streamers. don’t worry about how damaged he’ll be when he walks through the door.

you’re happy. you love your job, your home, your friends. you treat yourself to coffee every wednesday afternoon, and that’s when you meet him.

you’ve ordered your coffee and are sitting at one of the cafe’s little tables, scrolling on your phone, when a man clears his throat.

you look up, and he’s got the kindest smile you’ve ever seen.

“hi,” he says, and you give a small smile as you click off your phone.

“um, hi?” you say, a little unsure of why he’s speaking to you.

“not to sound weird or anything,” he begins, and you give a small laugh.

“y’know, whenever someone says that, whatever they say next does tend to sound weird.”

he nods, that smile on his lips growing a smidge wider. “right. so, I guess this will be weird then, huh? but I’ve noticed you here every wednesday, and I just wanted to tell you you’re beautiful.”

you blush. you don’t think a man has ever been so straightforward with you, and although you do think it’s kind of weird, you try to just focus on the compliment.

but your guard is up. you don’t know him.

“oh, thank you. that’s sweet,” you reply, and he’s still looking down at you.

“can I sit?” he asks, which takes you by surprise.

“um, sure? I guess?” you say, and it sounds more like a question than a statement, but he’s sliding into the seat across from you.

he introduces himself, and you tell him your name. he says it’s pretty. you’re starting to think he’s coming on too strong.

but as the two of you begin to talk, you start to realize that’s just who he is. he’s a flirt, a flatterer, but it’s good natured.

it’s easy to talk to him. he keeps the conversation going, and he seems generally interested in what you have to say. it’s a stark difference from your last relationship.

but then he tells you he’s military, and your heart nearly stops.

“oh,” you say, a small frown on your lips.

“that an issue?” he says, and his tone is teasing. he doesn’t know— how could he? but your face says it all.

his brows furrow, and he gets serious for the first time since he’d sat across from you. he starts to reach for your hand, but decides against it. again, the two of you don’t know each other, and he’s aware of that.

“I don’t have a good track record with men in the military,” you tell him, trying to lighten the mood. he can tell something’s wrong, but he doesn’t push. he takes the bait, and you’re grateful. it makes you like him even more.

that’s why you end up talking until the place closes. the employees are practically shooing you out as you and the military man apologize profusely.

you’re on the sidewalk now, and he’s smiling at you. you find yourself smiling back.

“d’you mind if I get your number?” he asks.

as much as you enjoyed talking to him, you’re still unsure. you just recovered from everything that happened— are still recovering. you don’t want to rush into anything. so, you shake your head.

“if you’re serious,” you begin, looking up at him. “I’ll see you on another wednesday.”

he nods, a mischievous smile on his face. “im up to the challenge.”

you give a small laugh, then tell him goodnight. you turn and begin to walk towards your car, and you’re smiling like an idiot.

you don’t want to get you hopes up, but that little naive part of you— a part of you you’d thought was dead and gone— is making you. you try to stamp it back down.

next wednesday, you don’t see him, and you’re a little sad about it. you don’t see him the wednesday after that, either.

you don’t see him for a few months, actually. and after a few weeks, you’ve stopped thinking about him.

but then one wednesday, you’re sitting in that coffee shop, and there he is.

he’s wearing a short sleeve shirt, and you can see fresh cuts and scrapes along his arms. he asks if he can sit, and you oblige, gesturing to the seat across from you.

“sorry for disappearing on you,” he says, and you shake your head. he doesn’t owe you anything. you barely know each other.

“that day we talked, i ended up gettin’ deployed a few days later. didn’t have your number, so…” he trails off with a cheeky smile, and you grin as you roll your eyes.

“so im to blame, hm?” you say, and he nods.

“oh, absolutely.” he’s teasing, and you laugh.

“then let’s amend that.” you hand him your phone and he lights up. he taps his number in quickly before handing the phone back to you. you send him a quick ‘hi’ so your number will pop up in his phone.

“didn’t forget about you, though,” he says, and you blush. this man certainly has a way with words. “that’s why im here. glad to see you’re still a creature of habit.”

“is that a bad thing?” you ask, and he shakes his head.

“nah, I don’t think so.”

your phone chimes then. it’s one of your friends, asking you if you can come over. you type a quick reply and start to gather your things.

“leavin’ so soon?” he says, and you give a small nod.

“friend emergency.”

he nods. “understood. well, I’ll see you around then, yeah?” he smiling as he pushes himself out of his chair.

“you do have my number now,” you remind him. “we don’t have to wait on chance encounters.”

he hums in agreement. “that’s true, but I prefer face-to-face, y’know? especially since yours is so pretty.”

“you’re a flirt,” you tell him, but you’re blushing, and he chuckles.

“guilty.”

you bid him goodbye and walk towards the exit, your mind instantly shifting gears to your friend. you don’t think about the military man again until he texts you that night.

‘friend okay?’ he types.

‘all good.’ you respond.

he’s typing back for a good minute. the bubble disappears, then reappears.

‘if there are no more friend crises for the foreseeable future, and im not shipped off to fight bad guys, how about a proper date?’

you smile as you read the message.

‘sure.’ you respond, and he sends back a smiley face.

a first date turns into a second, then a third, then a fourth. they’re spread out over a year because of his job, but you don’t find yourself minding that much. he treats you so much differently than the last man did.

he eventually asks you to be his partner, and you say yes. of course you’re a little hesitant— things with your last military man started off good, too. but you feel like it’s different this time. he’s different.

you don’t know it, but every time he’s deployed, he talks his squad’s ear off about you. tells them you’re the most beautiful person he’d ever seen, and that you’re so funny. tells them he’s gonna ask you to move in with him.

but he never mentioned your name. maybe he forgot, or maybe he just didn’t want to share that piece of you with them.

“you never shut up about this lover of yours,” simon/price says one day while they’re eating in the mess hall. although they’re not in the same squad, they’re friends, and they happen to be on base at the same time. “no way they’re real.”

your man just grins and holds out his phone, showing off his lockscreen. it’s a picture of you with your head thrown back in laughter. he’d taken it on one of your dates.

simon/price’s face darkens almost imperceptibly before he masks it. that’s you. he hadn’t thought about you in ages, but he knows that’s you in that picture. now everything comes rushing back.

your lover doesn’t notice the other man’s expression shift. he doesn’t realize that the man across from him knows you.

you had told him more about the man who broke your heart, but you’d never mentioned his name. you didn’t want to risk him knowing him.

it’s a good thing you’d never mentioned the name, because if your lover knew, he’d punch him in the jaw.

the conversation eventually shifts away from you, and simon/price is grateful. your man is none the wiser.

when he gets back home, he asks you to move in. you tell him no at first. you’re still a little broken. he understands, and doesn’t hold it against you. he takes it in stride, and you’re grateful.

you don’t know how you got so lucky this time. you don’t know how this man, who was so understanding, so kind, so caring, had practically fallen into your lap. maybe it was karma from your last relationship.

the universe crushed you once, and to make up for it, they dropped this man into your life. whatever it was, you were thankful.

the second time he asks you to move in with him, you say yes. he helps you with everything, and the whole time he’s smiling like an idiot. even when you almost drop a shelf on his toe, or when you argue with him about where to hang a picture.

you two end the night eating take out on the couch and watching trashy tv. he decides right then that he’s going to marry you one day.

a few months after you move in, he tells you he wants you to meet his friends.

you’re nervous, but he reassures you it will all be fine. tells you that they’ll love you. so, you get yourself ready and then he’s helping you into his truck, and your leg is shaking the whole way to the bar.

he puts a comforting hand on your knee. gives you a dazzling smile.

“they’ll love you,” he tells you. you nod.

when you get to the crowded bar, he leads you by the hand inside. you’re towed along behind him, so you don’t see his friends until you’re standing right in front of the booth they occupy.

you scan their faces, and you don’t recognize any of them. you’re thankful— a huge weight has been lifted off your shoulders. he introduces you to them, and you fit in easily.

the night is going well until your man mentions simon/price’s name. he couldn’t know, you’d never told him. he was telling the story of how simon/price hadn’t believed him when he was talking about you.

the rest of his friends were laughing, but you were tense. he noticed immediately, shoulder nudging yours as he leaned down to whisper in your ear.

“you okay?” he murmured, and you nodded.

he could tell you were lying, but he didn’t push it. didn’t even bring it up again until the two of you were home.

“how do you know simon/price?” he asked you as you hung your coat up on the rack. you frowned as you turned to face him.

“he was the one I dated before you. the guy who broke my heart. the one I told you about, remember?”

your man goes silent. he’s looking at you, his fists clenched at his sides. he believes you. there’s not a doubt in his mind, even for a second, that you’re not telling the truth.

“I didn’t want to tell you his name,” you admit, taking a step towards him. “in case you knew him. didn’t want to make things complicated.”

he’s still silent, his eyes trained on you as you slowly approach. an expression you can’t name paints his face.

“I understand if you want to end things,” you tell him, and that gets him moving again. he’s shaking his head. “I don’t want to come between you and your friends.”

“fuck him,” he spits, and he reaches his arms out to you. you step into his embrace and take a shaky breath. “fuckin’ bastard. I showed him a picture of you, and he didn’t say anything. I was gonna invite him tonight, but he’s on assignment, and—” he inhales sharply as his hands rest on your back. “and now im gonna break his fucking jaw.”

you push yourself back, your eyes finding your lover’s. you shake your head. “it’s not worth it. besides, don’t make any enemies within your base. you’ve got enough of those already.”

you can tell he wants to argue, but he doesn’t. he nods after a moment. silence fills the room.

“we don’t run in the same circles, usually,” he tells you, his voice quiet. “known each other since enlistment. got assigned to different squads. kept running into each other, though. kept in touch.”

“you can still—” you begin, but he interrupts.

“no, fuck him. I can’t be his friend when he’s treated you like shit. fucker will be lucky if I don’t blacken his fuckin’ eye.”

you don’t say anything. you pull yourself back towards his chest, and he holds you tight.

you don’t say anything, but your heart swells. this man, the one in your arms, is everything that he wasn’t. he doesn’t tolerate you, he celebrates you. loves you unconditionally. communicates and compromises. doesn’t pull away.

that’s why, when he asks you to marry him a month later, you say yes without thinking. because you don’t need to think.

the ceremony is small. friends and family gather and celebrate the two of you. you laugh and dance and drink the night away with the love of your life by your side.

and you don’t think of the man that broke your heart anymore. don’t give him the time of day, because you’ve moved on to something far greater. you’ve moved on to what you deserve.

a few years down the road, when your husband has finally retired, you’re making your way down the road to meet him at the coffee shop that brought you together.

someone calls your name, and your blood runs cold. you know that voice, and although you haven’t thought about who it belongs to in years, you doubt you’ll ever truly forget it.

he’s calling your name from somewhere behind you. you don’t turn around.

instead, you pull open the door of the coffee shop, step inside, and smile when you see your husband sitting at the same table you’d met him at all those years ago.

——————————————————————

author’s note:

ending 2 is finally here! while writing this, I originally pictured the reader getting with Gaz/johnny; however, I wasn’t sure how that would turn out.

how would they still work with simon/price after knowing everything? how would you go so long without hearing about/meeting gaz/johnny’s squad mates?

I didn’t know, and that’s why I scrapped the idea. You can still picture them, though! but I thought it best to have the love interest someone kinda detached from the 141.

anyways, hope you enjoyed :)

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mayumiiyuu · 23 days

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Hear me out

Jason todd seeing you wearing nothing but one of his shirts, just barely large enough to cover your ass

I can't write, but I need closure to this little idea that has been floating in my brain, also heard you wanted asks so...

oh my god oh my god oh my god………(i love the way u think)

18+ Content, Minors DNI

warnings: dom! jason, teasing jason (are we rlly surprised), sub!fem!reader, slight belly bulge if u squint, size difference mentioned. (please inform me if i need to add more, thank you!)

the morning after

sunlight filters gently through the window of your apartment’s kitchen, bathing everything it touched in a golden glow, your eyes catching in the light, the rays dripping off your form like warm honey. you hum a soft, dulcet melody as you lean your hip against the edge of the kitchen counter, the whirring sound of the coffee maker the only thing that disturbs the peaceful atmosphere.

just as you stand on your tiptoes to reach for the mugs in one of the taller cabinets, the material of your boyfriend’s shirt riding up your backside, you feel Jason’s hand on your hip, pulling you away as he takes it upon himself to grab them, his sheer size practically dwarfing you as he leans over, a smirk on his lips.

“Let me get that for you, doll.” he drawls as you turn around, his hands now placed on either side of you, resting against the counter, caging you in, and you can’t help the way your thighs clench as you look up at him, mind racing with thoughts of how he had you in a similar position just last night, relentlessly pounding into your throbbing cunt.

Jason couldn’t stop looking at you, how could he? the fluid movements you make as you walk around the kitchen, pulling out ingredients for today’s breakfast, the way your hair swayed with each movement. you were so sweet, he thinks to himself, a soft smile tugging at his lips as he continues to watch you, only for his softened gaze to intensify with a passionate fire as he catches sight of the lacy pair of red panties barely covering your ass—then he remembers how sweet you truly were, the soft whines that would slip past your lips, the low and breathy moans as your chest heaved up and down while he sucked and lapped up your sopping cunt.

could you really blame him when you had such a perfect body? mewling and writhing against him, reacting to his touches so perfectly, his good, sweet girl, taking him so well? and good god, the way that shirt draped over you, only reaching a little past your hips, rising just by a fraction to show off the round, soft flesh of your ass that once bore his marks, pink hand prints from his rough, calloused grip, and hickeys from when he ate you out from behind—just you wearing that shirt, seeing it ride up to show off the marks he’d left last night, it was your fault for teasing him, for wearing his shirt. why would you ever want to hide that body of yours from him anyway when he could worship you so well?

so really, you should’ve known better. now you were bent over the kitchen counter you once were making coffee on, back arched like a cat’s as you felt him draw a line over your weeping slit, your cunt pulsating with a heat only he could draw out from you.

“Please, Jay,” you whine, bucking your ass against him, hoping for some sort of relief as you rub your slicked pussy against his own angry tip, leaking with pre-cum. “Need you—need you so bad.”

“Yeah?” he whispers, leaning over you, his hand pressed up against your throat to press your back to his broad chest. “Y’need me that bad, princess? Need me to stretch out that tight pussy, have you make a mess all over my cock?”

there’s a teasing edge to his words as he swipes at your hole, already dripping with your slickness, pushing his tip in just to give you a little taste of the stretch—as if his words weren’t enough to make you whine and beg—but pulling out just as quickly, the cocky bastard. he loved seeing you like this, so desperate for him.

“Please, Jason—“ your voice comes out strained from desperation as you attempt to wiggle your ass closer to him, your cunt nearer to his hard, thick cock, only to let out a frustrated mewl as Jason holds your hips steady in place. “Need you—need your cock, wanna have you fuck me full, fill me up with your cum, please.”

“‘S that so?” Jason grins, wolfish and wicked as he continues to tease you, running his fat tip along the length of your cunt, purposefully bumping your clit with each stroke. “Such a filthy mouth on you, doll. Makes me wanna stuff my cock in it, see how dirty it can really get.” he chuckles, licking his canines in lustful amusement as he feels your opening clench around his tip at his words.

“Bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you? Y’like being all dirty f’me, don’t ya, doll?” his voice comes out in a low, gravelly rumble as her murmurs in your ear.

“Mhmm..” you nod, bottom lip tucked between your teeth, thighs already trembling in anticipation. “Jus’ wanna be good f’you, Jay.”

“That’s right,” he croons, chest welling up with pride at your submission, his gaze softening ever so slightly as he sees the look of adoration in your eyes swirled with desire for him. he lays kisses down your shoulder blades, landing a tender open-mouthed kiss against your nape—a reminder that even through the fiery hot intensity of the passion between the two of you, at the root of it all was a deep and profound love. “So good f’me, so perfect…’gonna take such good care of you, doll.” he murmurs, lining up his tip against your slit, pushing his aching cock into your drenched pussy. the tease that he is, he makes sure to draw out the moment, dragging his thick shaft against the walls of your cunt, eliciting a loud moan from your lips.

the sight of your cunt stretching out around his girth makes a low groan of pleasure slip from his lips as he sheathes himself fully into you. you drag your nails feebly against the marbled countertop, a muffled whine coming out of your mouth as you feel his fat cock fill you up—god, you could never get used to the sting, how good it felt knowing that he was the only one who could ever fill you up this good. your eyes roll to the back of your skull in pleasure as his hand comes to press against your womb, making sure you felt the small bump against the pit of your stomach all due to his massive cock.

“Feel that, doll? Pussy’s all full of me—fuck, s’fucking tight—like it was made f’me, hm?” he lets out a breath, hot and heavy against the back of your neck, a low hiss emanating from his lips; he could never stop the way his cock twitched as he felt your cunt flutter around him, the warmth of your sweet pussy against his throbbing cock made his head murky with lust.

“Pussy’s all yours, Jay—h-hah, s’all for you!” you moan, feeling each vein and the curve of his cock against your spongy walls, his tip prodding and brushing against that spot that always made you see stars.

“That’s my girl,” he purrs, his hand still around your throat, the other one holding your hip in place as he pulls his hips back before slamming his cock inside of you, beginning his quick pace. he’d been holding back before, but the way your cunt clenched around him makes any and all self-control slip from his being as he begins to fuck into you.

“Be a good girl and take my cock, yeah?” Jason whispers in your ear, his voice thick with lust as the lewd sounds of your sloppy cunt come into contact with his cock, his pelvis slamming against the meat of your ass.

it was going to be a while before the two of you have breakfast—all because of that damned shirt and Jason’s undeniable hunger for you. fuck breakfast, he had you, and that’s all he ever needed.

#dc x reader #x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd smut #jason todd x reader #jason todd x reader smut #dc smut #dc x reader smut

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pucksandpower · 5 months

Text

Prove Them Wrong

Charles Leclerc x wife!Reader

Summary: when an invitation to your high school reunion arrives, you are ready to throw it in the garbage … but your husband convinces you to go and prove them wrong

Happy Charles Leclerc contract extension day to all who celebrate 🫶

The invitation arrives in the mail on a Tuesday morning. You’ve just finished your coffee and are clearing the breakfast dishes when you see it — that familiar crest imprinted on the thick, creamy stationary. Your five-year high school reunion.

Immediately, your stomach drops. You haven’t thought about high school in years, haven’t had any contact with your classmates in just as long. Those weren’t the easiest years for you. In fact, they were some of the hardest.

You were shy, quiet, a bit awkward. You never quite fit in with the popular crowd, though you longed to. Much of your time was spent alone, lost in books and music, wishing you could break out of your shell. The kids were cruel in their exclusion. You still remember the whispers, the laughter at your expense, the feeling of being an outsider looking in.

After graduation, you left it all behind without a backward glance. You built a new life, one where you finally found your place. You have a successful career, an amazing husband, a beautiful home. You’ve traveled the world, experienced things you could have never imagined as that geeky teen.

Yet holding the invitation in your hands, the old insecurities come flooding back. Could you really face those people again? The ones who looked through you like you were invisible? Who made you feel small?

You’re lost in thought when Charles comes into the kitchen. He kisses your cheek and asks what’s wrong. Wordlessly, you hand him the invitation.

He glances at it and understanding dawns on his face. “Ah, a reunion. I take it you’re not thrilled?”

You shake your head. “I hated high school. The kids were really mean. I don’t know if I can go back there and face them again.”

Charles pulls you into a hug. “I’m sorry you went through that, love. Kids can be terribly cruel.” He looks thoughtful for a moment. “You know, this might be a good chance to show them how wrong they were about you.”

You give him a skeptical look and he continues. “Think about it — you’re not that shy girl anymore. You’ve accomplished so much, you have an amazing life. Maybe going back will give you some closure. A chance to prove to yourself and to them how far you’ve come.”

“I don’t know ...” you say uncertainly.

Charles grasps your shoulders, looking into your eyes. “You are an incredible woman. You have nothing to feel insecure about. I know it won’t be easy, but I think this could be good for you. Let them see the strong, successful person you’ve become. And I’ll be right by your side the whole time.”

You take a deep breath, letting his words sink in. Maybe he’s right. This could be an opportunity to flip the script, to rewrite the ending to that difficult chapter of your life.

“Okay,” you say finally. “Let’s do it.”

Charles grins and pulls you in for a real embrace now. “That’s my girl. I’m so proud of you.”

Over the next few weeks, you have moments of confidence mixed with waves of doubt. Charles is a constant source of reassurance. The night before the reunion, your nerves are frayed.

“What if they’re still awful? What if all those old feelings come rushing back the moment I see them?” You fret as you get ready for bed.

Charles takes your hands, his gaze earnest. “I know you’re scared, chérie. But don’t forget — you’re not alone now. I’ll be by your side the whole time. And if anyone says one nasty thing, we’ll walk right out that door, okay?”

You smile gratefully at him. “Okay. Thank you, Charlie. I don’t know if I could do this without you.”

He kisses you softly. “You’ve got this. Get some rest, mon cœur.”

***

In the morning, you take extra care getting ready, donning an elegant dress and styling your hair just so. Looking in the mirror, you remind yourself that you belong in these clothes, in this life.

The reunion is at your old high school, in the gymnasium. As you walk in hand-in-hand with Charles, the smells hit you first — sweat and sneakers, just like you remember. There are balloons and streamers, a table of snacks and drinks. And clustered together, familiar faces you haven’t seen in five years.

Your heart begins to pound. Charles gives your hand a reassuring squeeze. “You’ve got this,” he murmurs. Then you lift your chin and step forward to greet your past.

As you scan the room, you recognize faces that used to fill the halls of your high school. Some look familiar, unchanged by the passing years. Others you barely recognize at all.

You steel yourself as a group of giggling girls comes into view — the former popular clique. Lindsay, Heather, and Bethany. Once the queens of the school, rulers of all they surveyed.

Lindsay spots you first. Her overly plumped lips curl into a smirk. “Well, look who it is. Little Y/N Y/L/N.”

You squeeze Charles’ hand tighter as that old childhood instinct to shrink kicks in. But you lift your chin and meet Lindsay’s gaze head-on. “Lindsay. Hello.”

Her eyes flick dismissively over you before landing on Charles. They widen, lips parting. Of course she recognizes him — his face is rarely out of the public eye.

“Y/N!” Bethany exclaims with obviously fake delight. “Aren’t you going to introduce us to your friend?”

You allow yourself a small, satisfied smile. “Of course. This is my husband, Charles Leclerc.”

Charles gives them a polite nod. “Pleasure to meet you ladies.”

The mean girls’ jaws drop in unison. You can’t help but feel a swell of pride at the impressed once-overs they give Charles.

Heather recovers first, plastering on a sycophantic grin. “The pleasure’s all ours! What a lovely surprise.” She touches Charles’ arm lightly. “We would love to catch up and hear all about your life, Y/N.”

You catch Charles’ eye. His lips twitch, seeing right through them.

“That’s kind of you to offer,” you say smoothly. “If you’ll please excuse us, I see some other classmates I’d like to greet.”

You steer Charles away, leaving them sputtering. As soon as you’re out of earshot, he chuckles. “Well, they certainly changed their tune quickly.”

“Once they realized they could get something from me now,” you reply wryly.

You make small talk with a few classmates, keeping it surface-level. Charles’ presence by your side is bolstering. With him here, you’re reminded that you have nothing to prove to these people. Your worth isn’t defined by their approval.

After grabbing drinks, you scan the room again. Your stomach sinks as your eyes land on a familiar figure — Brad Collins. Handsome as ever, surrounded by a gaggle of admirers.

Brad was your biggest crush all through high school. You pined for him secretly, knowing he was way out of your league. He never gave you the time of day — too focused on football, parties, and whichever popular girl caught his eye that week.

“Everything okay?” Charles asks, noticing your expression.

You nod tightly. “My old crush is here.”

Charles spots him and understanding crosses his face. He presses a kiss to your temple. “His loss, mon amour.”

At that moment, Brad looks up and notices you. His stare is cold, dismissive. He says something to his friends and they erupt in laughter, eyes cutting your way.

Your cheeks burn. Some things never change.

Charles’ jaw tightens. He takes your hand firmly and starts steering you toward Brad and his posse.

You glance at him in surprise. “What are you doing?”

“We’re going over to say hello,” he replies calmly.

“Charles, you don’t have to ...”

He silences you with a look. “Trust me.”

You swallow hard and nod. Brad watches you approach with that familiar cocky smirk.

“Well, look who it is,” he drawls as you come to stand before him. “Never thought I’d see you at one of these things, Y/L/N.”

You stare him down unwaveringly. “Yes, well, people can surprise you.”

Brad’s gaze slides to Charles, brows lifting. You can see him trying to place how he might know this handsome, expensively dressed man by your side.

“Brad, this is my husband, Charles Leclerc,” you say sweetly.

Brad’s smirk disappears. His friends gape between you and Charles.

“Husband, huh?” Brad says after a pause, regaining his bravado. “Well, congratulations. Didn’t know you had it in you to land a guy like this.”

Fury rises in you, but before you can respond, Charles steps forward. His voice is pleasant but his eyes are steel.

“Clearly you don’t know much about my wife at all. But that’s your loss. I’m the lucky one who gets to experience her incredible heart and mind every day.”

Brad flushes under Charles’ stare. An awkward beat passes.

Charles continues calmly, “I couldn’t ask for a better partner. I just hope you realize what an opportunity you missed out on back then. Have a good night, gentlemen.”

He turns, guiding you away and leaving Brad speechless behind you. Your eyes shine as you gaze up at Charles.

“Have I told you lately that I love you?”

He grins. “Feel free to tell me again. And I meant every word.” He nods over at Brad’s group, now whispering furiously. “Hopefully that wipes the smirk off his face.”

You laugh, leaning up to kiss Charles’ cheek. “This turned out to be good advice after all. Thank you for being here, for reminding me who I am now.”

The rest of the reunion passes uneventfully. You mingle, laugh, and share stories with classmates who weren’t part of the toxic popular crowd. They’re welcoming and kind. For the first time, you feel like you’re reconnecting with peers, not tormentors.

As you and Charles get into the car to drive home, you let out a long, satisfied breath. The demons of your past have been conquered for good. You faced your bullies and they’re the ones who were left lacking.

You squeeze Charles’ hand, your heart full of gratitude. “Let’s go home.”

***

The adrenaline rush from the reunion slowly fades as you and Charles drive to your hotel. You lean your head back against the leather seat, letting out a long exhale.

“How are you feeling?” Charles asks, glancing your way.

You consider the question. “Good,” you realize with some surprise. “Really good actually.”

Charles smiles. “I’m glad to hear it.”

You shake your head slowly. “I can’t believe I almost didn’t go. Thank you for pushing me to face them. It was so empowering to see their reactions, to realize how little I care about their opinions now.”

“You did all the hard work,” he reminds you. “I just gave you a little nudge. I’m so proud of you, chérie.”

Warmth spreads through you at his words. Not for the first time, you feel a rush of gratitude that this man chose you, sees you, loves you exactly as you are.

Once in your suite, Charles makes you a cup of chamomile tea and you curl up together on the couch. You rest your head on his shoulder, replaying the events of the night in your mind.

“Do you think they’ll actually learn anything from tonight?” You ask after a few minutes of comfortable silence. “All those kids who were so terrible — will seeing me change their perspectives at all?”

Charles considers this, running his fingers idly through your hair. “I’m not sure. Hopefully it gave them something to think about, but some people never grow out of that mindset. The important thing is that you held your head high and didn’t let them make you feel small.”

You nod slowly. “I think if I could go back and tell my teenage self that this night would come, it would have made those years a little more bearable. Knowing I would come through it stronger. That I would have you by my side.”

He kisses the top of your head. “I’ll remind you as often as you need. Though for what it’s worth, I don’t think you give yourself enough credit. You’ve always had an inner strength, even if it took time to fully embrace it. Those kids certainly didn’t put it there.”

You smile up at him. “Have I mentioned lately that you always know exactly what to say?”

He chuckles. “Once or twice.”

You talk softly as the evening winds down, the tea warming you from the inside out. Your reunion with the ghosts of high school is finally behind you. It’s time to let go of the last lingering traces they have over you.

Over the next week, life returns to its normal rhythm. You throw yourself back into work, energized by a new sense of confidence and peace. Every day the experience recedes further into the past.

Until the phone call comes.

You’re just sitting down to lunch when your cell lights up with an unfamiliar number. For a moment you simply stare at it, perplexed.

After a brief internal debate, you answer. “Hello?”

“Y/N!” Lindsay chirps in an overly bright voice. “How are you, hon?”

You hold the phone away from your ear, making a face at her faux familiarity. “I’m fine. To what do I owe the pleasure?” You ask evenly.

“Well, I was just calling to see if we could get together! You know, have a little reunion of our own. I’d love to catch up outside of that whole silly event.”

You nearly choke on your water. “You would?”

“Of course!” Lindsay laughs airily. “I barely got to talk to you. And I’d love to spend more time with that charming husband of yours ...”

Ah. There it is. You have to stifle an eye roll.

“That’s … kind of you to offer,” you say carefully. “But I’m afraid our schedules are pretty busy at the moment.”

“Oh, I’m sure we could find the time!” She presses. “I would love to take you two to dinner. My treat!”

Tempting as that is, you have zero desire to spend more time with this woman, despite her transparent new interest in you.

“Appreciate the invitation, but I’ll have to pass,” you say, your tone final. “Take care, Lindsay.”

You hang up before she can protest further. Shaking your head, you go back to your salad. Some things never change.

When Charles gets home, you regale him with the bizarre phone call. He looks equally astonished.

“She actually asked you to dinner? Just to get closer to me?” He gives an incredulous laugh.

You grin ruefully. “Yep. I guess you made more of an impression than we realized.”

He shakes his head in disbelief. Then his expression turns thoughtful.

“You know what? I think we should take her up on that offer after all.”

You stare at him. “What? Why?”

His eyes glint mischievously. “Because I’d like to make it very clear what I think of people who treat you so poorly. And a free dinner out sounds lovely.”

You can’t help but laugh at his unexpected scheming side. “Look at you, getting all protective and devious! I have to admit, it would be gratifying to knock her off her pedestal a bit more.”

Charles winks. “That’s what I was thinking.”

And so, despite your better judgment, you call Lindsay back and accept her invitation to dinner that weekend.

You take more care than usual getting ready, playing up your most striking features. Charles looks unfairly handsome in his designer suit, hair perfectly tousled just to annoy Lindsay further.

When you arrive at the trendy upscale restaurant she chose, Lindsay is already there waiting. She air-kisses your cheeks in greeting, fawning over you and Charles effusively.

As the meal begins, she dominates the conversation, barely letting you get a word in. She name-drops shamelessly, trying to impress Charles with all her supposed connections.

“Oh Charles, you simply must come stay at our villa in Positano sometime! I’d be happy to arrange it for you both. Anything for Y/N’s hubby!” She titters, touching his arm.

You and Charles exchange subtle amused looks across the table. When the waiter appears for your order, Charles gives him an easy smile.

“My wife will have the scallops and I’ll take the filet. Oh, and send over your most expensive bottle of champagne, please. My treat tonight.”

Lindsay’s smile freezes. You bite back a grin, catching his eye again. Message received.

As dinner winds down, Charles finally turns the tables on her. “So Lindsay, what have you been up to since high school? Y/N tells me you two were quite close.”

Lindsay flushes, flustered. “Oh … well, you know, this and that!” She forces a laugh. “I’m in between ventures at the moment. But I stay very busy with charity work and running in social circles.”

“How lovely for you,” Charles says neutrally. “And your husband? What does he do?”

“I’m, uh, not married,” she mumbles, clearly off-kilter now.

“I see. Well, I’m sure the right man will come along someday.” He smiles placidly. “Everyone deserves to feel that kind of love, don’t you agree?”

Lindsay just nods, face pinched. You stifle a satisfied smile behind your napkin.

Later in the car, Charles grins over at you. “That was entertaining.”

You lean over and kiss his cheek. “Have I mentioned you’re the best husband ever?”

He laughs. “A few times. But I’ll never get tired of hearing it.”

2K notes · View notes

shower-phantom-ideas · 8 months

Text

Bruh emotional support ghost kid? Well thats what they are calling him

Suicide cases in gothem are about to fucking plummet boiz cause this one weird blue eyes, black haired boy is now heading to your location.

How does he know where to be? Having a bad day and are all alone? No the fuck your not cause don’t turn around now but theres some shiny blue eyes coming at you from that dark ally. Oh shit hes here to drop some information about you and your lost loved ones that he should know. Oh god the closure. How could you have been afraid on this sweet, creepy, boy who just helped you find your way.

Meanwhile Danny is chillin in Gothem cause the GIW hate it there (none of they equipment actually functions in Gothem so it’s either super haunted or actually not haunted at all). Then all of a sudden he gets approached by a random ghost begging for his help because their sweet baby girl is about to do something horrible. Oops now all the ghosts are following their most loved ones around just to make sure they are there to rush to Danny for help when all else fails. Now hes getting to fulfil his protection obsession double time because one hes helping protect people from themselves and two hes protecting everyone in Gothem by stopping people from becoming villains for revenge. Plus he gets to see first hand how hes making a difference because all those people he saved are sending him some good vibes from all across Gothem.

Thank god he followed Jazz around so much to slightly absorb some of her phycology knowledge over the years. Plus it was actually pretty interesting so she gave him her old text books. Shes also helping him deal with the rare events where he can’t save someone. Just a moment too late or he stops them but they later succeeded in the hospital. Neither are his fault. Now only if he could convince his core of that.

Anyway why Gothem you ask? Amity Park would have been just as good tbh but imagine Batmans face when he finally gets to be face to face with the emotional support ghost boy. Why is he here? Bruce is fine. Batman is fine. Hes not gonna do anything crazy. It’s just a hard time of year. Around their death always gives him grief. But hes an adult and can manage it.

“You know they are so proud of you.” The boy states. As if it’s clear as day, even though it’s Gothem and never a clear day. Batman blinks at him, stunned for a moment. “What?” This boy can’t possibly know that. No one will ever know that, Bruce can only hope. “They see their home, full of such life. That big house that felt so empty, so cold, to them as well for years. Then you filled it with Family and Love like they had always wanted for you. They are so proud of what you have turned it into. Somewhere full of life and warmth.” A small smile graces his face as finally “you have made your parents so proud” and its all he can do to contain himself. Emotions are running high and sue him because he really did need to hear that ok. The boy suddenly looks to Bruces right with a confused face “aren’t all basements like that though?” Before Bruce can even get a word in hes gone. Just vanished before his eyes.

#danny phantom #danny fenton #dpxdc #dp x dc #batman #I just wanted to write danny walking up to the buggest toughest batman and make him cry tears of relief #danny is helping his subjects find closure while always feeding his protection obsession #let him be interested in his sisters word #also god imagine bruce just having a bad time of it cause is the anniversary of his parents death #than the ghost kid just walks up and tells him exactly what he needed to heat #yes they are proud of the word batman does #he knows he has saved lives #but what about him as a father #would his father be ashamed of his parenting skills #would his mother be discusted at how he treats his children #he always remembers his parents as good parents so he wants to do right by them by also being a good parent #anyone can risk their life for another but few can be a good father #actually it’s easy just love your kids and sont walk out and leave them with an insane bitch of a mother #dad im lookin at you #and dknt marry your fucking step sister dad #isnt our family tree circle enough. why must u follow in grandmothers footsteps #at least with him is marrage related aye?#oops im rabling about my daddy issues teehee

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taintedpearls · 3 months

Text

❀*ੈ˖°.𖥔 ݁ casual (part ii)

don't buy tlou — free palestine

you can read part one here!

pairing: ellie williams x fem!reader

summary: you haven't spoken to ellie in a week, 9 missed calls and 38 texts from her, none of which you've answered, but ellie doesn't give up so easily.

cw: smut, mdni, intimate sex, the knee thing (e!receiving), shower sex, fingering (r!receiving), switch!ellie and reader, multiple orgasms, nipple play/sucking, fluffy, reader lives in an apartment, ellie is very apologetic, barley proofread & semi-rushed and i think thats it. lmk if not.

wc: 2.9k

a/n: this was meant to be like 1.6k words so idk how we got to 35 words away from 3k but... enjoy!

(1:02am) ellie

please let me explain

(1:06am) ellie

cmon please i promise it'll be worth your while

(1:07am) ellie

i have your bra among other things. let me know when you'd like me to drop them off. i'm sorry.

(1:09am) you

guess who texted again

(1:09am) olive

no way

r u gonna reply?

(1:10am) you

absolutely not

i made a fool of myself

(1:11am) olive

maybe and JUST MAYBE

reply to her and get ur closure + super sexy bra back

(1:12am) you

what the fuck olive

do you want me to die? genuine question

(1:12am) olive

LISTEN

it might help

plus she seems genuinely apologetic

why is she even apologising?

(1:14am) you

for being a dick and wanting a quick hookup?

(1:14am) olive

because she has feelings and she knows she fucked up?

(1:15am) you

😐 bye

(1:15am) olive

just reply! say sometime tmrw. it can be easy, a quick in nd out

okay?

(1:16am) you

i'll think about it

(2:03am) you

11:30, you get two minutes

(2:03am) ellie

thank you so much

(2:03am) ellie

i'll be there

nine hours later, and ellie was a mess.

you had given her permission to come over and return your bra – hell you had her jumping for fucking joy when she saw that message.

but now she had to actually talk to you, and what the hell was she supposed to say? that she was sorry? that she 'couldn't sort out her feelings?' all of which felt wrong (maybe they only felt wrong because she was staring at herself in the mirror while repeating them for three hours... who knows).

but ellie had found herself with a bouquet of your favorite flowers in hand and a plan.

a plan to win you back.

she was going to apologize, let you scream at her, and hopefully let her explain, all in the two minutes you had gratefully gifted her.

so, when she rang the doorbell to your apartment after hiking the six story stairs, she found herself staring at her old, beaten up converse. stars and hearts you had drawn all along the sides of the soles almost mocked her.

then you opened the door, and ellie couldn't look up.

useless apologies started spilling from her mouth, panicked words that meant nothing. a collection of "i'm sorry” s and a series of "please let me explain" came pouring out, that was until she grew the gall to look up at you and take you in.

her heart stopped when she did, so did her words.

you looked tired. clearly old yet comfortable clothes adorned your body, you had your arms over your stomach but they weren't crossed, you weren't mad, you could never be mad at ellie, no matter how badly you wanted to be especially in this moment.

words rushed through her head but never made it out her mouth, you were... exhausted. and she caused it, she caused all this pain you were going through.

“oh…” she softly whispered, her stance faltering at the sight of you, not because you looked like how you did but because she was so mad at herself.

you sigh, you had made no effort to adjust your appearance or put makeup on. you told yourself it was because you had no energy to, but in reality, you wanted to show ellie how you were hurting, that she had caused this, that something fun and sweet had gone sour and at your own expense.

“ellie, i know i look….” you remove your arms from your stomach and signal to yourself shamefully, tears almost springing from your sunken eyes at the regret you feel for not even trying to fix yourself up, “ but can i please just have my bra back?” you’ve changed your position once again so that you’re leaning up against the doorframe of your apartment, gray sleeves up by your knuckles.

“no! no no no not at all you look… pretty. really pretty.” she breathes out hurriedly, your cheeks heat up before you spot the bouquet, and that's what makes the tears spill. because why was she here? she had never described you as pretty before, only hot or sexy, so why is she here apologising and calling you pretty if she doesnt just want a quick fuck by validating you?

tears now evidently filled your eyes, ellie’s kind smile had now turned into one of worry and concern when she saw the tears threatening to spill from your tired eyes, moving forward to embrace you, but she hesitated. will it only make things worse for you? feeling her again?

“can- can i touch you?” she asks gently, nerves shaking at the chance of you pushing her away for good, telling her she can keep the bra and slamming the door shut in her face.

instead, you silently shake your head yes and grant her permission to embrace you, it was a stupid idea, really, because everything you felt, all the times she had touched you that you had so desperately been trying to shut out came flooding back and it took everything in you not to sob, the subtle stream of tears gliding down your cheeks was worse enough. you avoided her sorrowful eyes, you didn't want her to feel sorry for you, you just wanted her.

ellie lets go of you, she’s still standing at the doorway, converse planted firmly on your ‘welcome!’ doormat, she delicately reaches to hold your cheeks and force your wandering eyes to look into her own, staring for a second, memorizing your face just in case before looping an arm around your shoulders and guiding you inside, closing the door behind the two of you with her foot, not looking back once.

you can feel the flowers gently brush against your shoulder as she never put them in her other hand, but the feeling of them is oddly comforting. you're not sure why exactly it’s comforting, but you do however manage to notice they're your favorite.

ellie guides you over to a kitchen counter, sitting you up on it and standing right in between your open spread legs, placing the array of flowers opposite to the two of you. you bury your head in your hands, wanting to disappear from this moment and never return.

“hey…” she gently prys your hands away from your head, and you immediately look up to contain tears, trying your hardest nor to hit the cabinets. “i'm sorry for just welcoming myself in, i assumed you didn't want the neighbors to see you…” the auburn haired girl uneasily babbles, and the tears slow down. you sniffle, looking down at the girl who can’t seem to slow her fast paced talking, and you're not sure how to quiet her down other than placing a hand over her mouth.

instantly, the talking stops as she looks up at you confused, you sniffle once more and she grabs your hand again to remove it from her mouth

“you were talking a lot,” you whisper “its okay that you came in, ellie.” your voice is silky, addicting.

“i just-” she sighs, anxiously tapping the space outside your thighs and staring at her own hands “i don’t know how i can express just how sorry i am, i fucked up. Bad. and your hurting because of it” she spills, shes not even sure if it made sense as it left her mouth, but it’s honest.

“ellie… it was always more than just a casual thing to me,” you admit, voice getting shallower by the second “and i mean, i don’t know, i always just assumed if i kept saying i was fine with it you would realize that i was who you wanted, but now i know it isn’t true.” ellie’s face drops upon hearing your words, alarms blare in her head because of course it was never just casual to her as well, she’s not even sure why she suggested it in the first place or kept reinforcing it when she wanted everything but that.

“i know,” she starts off with, you look down sadly, this was confirmation she didn't want to see you anymore, that you getting attached had ruined everything and there was no saving whatever you two had. “but,” she continues, you look up at her again, confused. “It was never just casual to me as well, you know? i’m not even sure why i suggested it in the first place.” she lets out a brief chuckle at the last part in hopes of clearing some of the tension around you guys.

“but you-”

“i know i always reminded you, i think it was because i was scared? i was so… infatuated with you and i guess i didn’t want to hurt you. i thought it was the only way.” she remorsefully confesses, and you smile, roles reversed as you gracefully grab her face and kiss her. a kiss that says everything.

it's soft, gentle, show’s no urgency or panic. it’s natural, and ellie can feel you smiling into it, as is she.

gently, she moves away and starts kissing down your neck, you lock your hands into her auburn and let out a sigh of content.

“ellie…” you needily whisper.

“yeah, baby?” she removes her mouth from your neck, grabbing your thighs and looking into your eyes. “this okay?”

“more than okay,” you confirm, “do you wanna shower with me?” your request is simple, but it makes ellie’s heart explode with excitement as she lifts you off the counter and begins to carry you over to the very familiar shower, the short walk is full of quick kisses and giggles bouncing off the walls when you finally arrive and she nearly stumbles over her own feet.

you're quick to discard your own clothes, the anticipation building to feel ellie’s skin on your own, the girls anticipation matching yours as she hastily removes her own clothing. Flowers and bra forgotten in the kitchen when she pulls your body into the shower with her, capturing you into a needy kiss once more. she reaches behind you to turn the water on, not accounting for the fact it'll take a minute to warm up and allowing the freezing stream to harshly hit your back. you yelp, moving away quickly in shock, hearing ellie’s restrained snort from behind you. turning to face her, you slap her bicep playfully when the water begins to feel warmer

“ellie!” you playfully scold, “that wasn't funny!” you’re trying to be serious, key word: trying, but you cant help to let your own laugh slip past your mouth as you join her in the fun.

“‘m sorry!” she giggles, the laughter between you two dying down “i didn't think it would be that cold!”

“yeah, well, obviously!” you attempt to splash her with the little bit of remaining cold water on your hands, but you're not quick enough. she pins your hands above your head against the wall adjacent to the stream of water, the glass becoming foggy with steam from the nearly boiling water.

silence falls in between the two of you. no words are spoken as you move forwards wanting a kiss from the girl, but she moves back. deja vu spikes within you from that night at the bar, days before everything went down.

she closes her eyes, leaning closer and pressing her forehead up against yours. You repeat the action, you weren't sure what she was doing, but you trusted her.

“let’s take this slow, okay?” she utters softly, just loud enough so you could hear her over the sound of water pouring, you nod instantly. slow was good. slow meant effort.

with your agreement, she locks your lips into a kiss once again. it wasn't hasty or rough, it was soothing and steady, releasing your arms in order for her to move her own to rest on your hips, your own reaching towards her neck.

the kiss continuous for a couple minutes, only letting go for a couple seconds at a time to catch your breaths before falling back into each other peacefully, but you were getting wetter and wetter, desperate for more than just kitten kisses on your neck, and you could tell ellie was getting wet too with her movements becoming more and more desperate and rough.

discreetly, you slot your knee in between her legs while she's occupied with your neck. Almost immediately you can feel the grip she has on your hips become tighter, fingernails digging into the flesh as you slowly begin to move your knee, she groans, dropping her head into your shoulder, moving her hips to match the rhythm with your knee.

“faster, please” she whimpers in your neck, busying herself again by leaving wet open mouthed kisses on your neck once more. who were you to deny such a pretty girl's request? you speed up the movement of your knee, nudging it up every now and again, removing a hand from her neck to reach down and slowly rub her clit.

from the way she sucked harder on that spot just below your ear she knew you loved, you assumed the sensation was taken well, your own wetness starting to drip down your thighs, mixing with the water from the muffled noises she was making alone. eventually, the stimulation caught up to her, legs becoming shaky, speeding up your movements and circling her clit, forcefully removing her mouth from your neck so you could bring your head down and suck on her left nipple, and that was her tipping point.

ellie came undone on your leg with a strangled shout of your name, legs shaking and thighs hurting as you slowed down the circles on her now sensitive nub before eventually stopping, removing the knee slotted between her legs as well as your mouth from her tit.

“you okay?” you whisper, giving her a couple seconds to come down from her high, the water providing a warm comfort over the two of you.

“yeah,” she breathes, coming up to give you a kiss on the lips, again, and again, making a wet noise each time, only further fueling your need for her. “more than okay, thank you.”

you smile at her, happy that she was satisfied with your work. you clench your thighs together in hopes to relieve some of the tension that had built up in your core, a move that did not go unnoticed by the dripping girl in front of you.

“but now i think i need to take care of you, hm? would you like that?” you quickly nod your head yes, anxious to feel her touch on you once more.

she doesn't wait to get to work on your body, lips going down to suck one of your boobs while her hand moves to roll the sensitive bud in between her fingers, almost instantly eliciting a moan from you.

quietly, she moves her hand that was previously rolling your nipple down your wet body to your core. you open your legs, she keeps her mouth on your boob, but teasing your folds as she ran her fingers through them and pinching your clit ever so slightly, causing you to squel.

“ellie.. please…” you almost beg, desperate to feel her skilled fingers inside you already.

she presses her palm flat against your clit, ignoring your begs but making you jerk back into the ceramic wall as a small whimper falls from your mouth, ellie smirks knowing just how much of an effect she had on you. she wasn't leaving you ever again.

lazily, she slips her middle finger into your hole, removing her mouth from your tit. the shower and your own slick providing enough lube that she didn't even have to prod at it.

“jesus babe… you're so tight” you clench around her finger at these words, and she mindlessly adds a second one. your hands move from her neck to the steaming glass beside you, indenting your handprint through the fog as you lose control over your own body's movements.

gradually, she begins pumping her fingers in and out of your sopping cunt, lewd and shameless moans leaving your mouth at an uncontrollable pace. she moves her thumb to your clit, pushing into it and causing as much pressure as possible, and it's not long before you cum with a yell of her name, babbling nonsense as she guides you through it. head in her neck as is hers in yours.

“‘m so sorry” ellie continuously repeats as her fingers still work at a relentless pace inside you “i'm so so sorry, ill never do that to you again.” she moves up and bites your earlobe, continuing to pilot you through your orgasm before halting her movements completely and removing herself from your body.

you lean back against the wall, eyes closed in content as you feel the droplets of water hit your skin, your water bill is gonna be so fucking high this month, all ellie does it look at you. admiring you in this post fucked out state. you reach your hand out, a silent request for her to take it and she does, right after turning off the stream for you.

“that was… amazing.” you breathe out happily, she beams at the peaceful look on your face as you peel your eyes open, ellie's smile making you crack your own.

“i'm glad,” she kisses you once more, the two of you smiling into it.

“we’re okay?” she asks

“we’re okay.” you confirm, and ellie has never been happier

“how about we continue this in the bedroom?” ellie suggests, and you grab her instantly to lead her out.

people who asked to be tagged: @a-little-bit-of-everybody ! @lmaoo-spiderman @macaroni676 @p4ison1vy @fatbootymuncher @elliessweetheart

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