#would never do something like that and if it accidentally happened they wouldn't go with it keeping it a secret from BL/ind would they

[covenofagatha]

But you're my stepmom! (Part 11)

A/N: oh my god guys I finally wrote the next part! Please like it lol. I did see this as the end of the story but I purposely kept it open so if I ever did want to write more I could

Special shoutout to @lunargrrrl because without you saying that you loved this story I probably wouldn't have even touched it for at least another month (I love your writing so much I would do anything for you)

Word count:

Warnings: oral sex, scissoring, little bit of angst?

Taglist: 3440

@stayevildarling@i-just-cannot@hazey-g@buttercandy16@320viada@evilangels-stuff@rmaximoff@morganismspam23@aboutcustardcreams@sasheemo@rigglemethat@walkethisway@mommywandas@r-3-becca@harknessshi@ihaveawifebutwerenotmarriedyet@polaris-likethestar@ahintofchaos @dorabledewdroop @toomanylesbiancouples @accidentally-made-a-sideblog @chiar4anna @lonelyhalfwitch @lostbutlovely33 @diorrxckstar @whoreforolderfictionalwomen  @katekathry @onemansdreamisanothermansdeath @tayasmellsapples @natashashill @mybraininblood @mysticalmoonlight7  @cactuslover2600 @loveem0mo @readysteddiero-nance @lonelyhalfwitch @lesbiantortilla @crescendoofstars @sol-in-wonderland @ahsfan05 @gbab09 @sasheemo @agathaharness @live-laugh-love-lupone @chiar4anna (sorry if I forgot you or if I put you twice, I just copied and pasted the taglist from the part 10 and then whoever said they wanted to be on it recently)

“Hey!” You call after your step-mom as she struts through the parking lot back to her car, never breaking a stride, leaving you to chase after. “Agatha, wait!” 

She doesn’t even turn around, just unlocks the door and slides in, and she’s turning on the car when you finally make it into the passenger seat. 

You’re a little out of breath, so you take a moment to compose yourself. Agatha is staring forward, hands gripped on the steering wheel. “What was that?” You’re finally able to ask. 

Her knuckles turn white but she doesn’t answer. She shifts into drive and pulls forward and you can see how tightly her jaw is clenched. 

“Agatha, will you please talk to me?” You’re begging at this point, you don’t know what else to do, because something is wrong. That wasn’t her plan. 

Although, neither was fucking you in the bathroom. 

Your body betrays you and the concern you’re supposed to be feeling right now and heats up at the memory. You can still feel her thrusting inside you, your hips hitting the cold sink top, her hand wound in your hair making you watch yourself get absolutely railed by her. 

Stop. 

You shake your head to clear your thoughts, to get your mind out of the gutter, and Agatha finally pulls into the driveway of her house. 

It’s a good sign she didn’t take you back to your mom’s house, you suppose. She slams the car door after she gets out and storms into the house, you following hot on her heels. 

Agatha goes right to the kitchen and pours herself a glass of wine. She takes a long sip and a deep inhale, and pinches the bridge of her nose. When she opens her eyes, she finally looks at you like she’s seeing you for the first time. 

“I’m sorry I did that with you there,” she says and you almost laugh. Is that what she was upset about? 

You shake your head and steal the glass from her, taking a gulp and wincing at the bitter taste. Agatha raises an eyebrow at your blatant underage drinking in front of her, but says nothing. You swallow the wine hard and make a face. “Don’t be. It was kind of hot,” you admit, and she chuckles humorlessly. And then a thought dawns on you. “Wait, do you think he’s going to think something happened in the bathroom? Cause we both went, and then you came out and said you wanted a divorce.” 

There’s a glint in Agatha’s eye. “You really think he’s going to assume that I fucked my stepdaughter against the sink in a restaurant bathroom and then decided to break things off?” 

“Well…” You trail off, the leap to that conclusion seeming a bit implausible, especially for him. Your dad has a hard time focusing on things that aren’t himself. “Seems like we’re in the clear, at least.” 

Agatha snorts and drains the rest of the wine. There’s still something off about her, but you can’t quite put your finger on it. 

“Are you okay?” You ask, your voice softening. “I mean, are we okay? I know we said earlier that we didn’t know what this would mean for us –” 

She cuts you off by slamming the glass down on the countertop so hard you’re surprised it doesn’t break and then closes her eyes to take a deep breath. You freeze. “I’m sorry,” Agatha says eventually, but it’s unclear if she’s apologizing for the reaction or for something else. Maybe for the whole thing between you? 

There’s an uneasy feeling that starts to grow in your stomach. Is she going to break things off with you too? 

Not that there’s anything to break off, is there? It hasn’t even been that long since this thing started, but it’s been intense. More intense than anything you’ve ever felt. 

You know that it might kill you if she walks away now. 

“Do you not want this?” Your question is like a stab to your gut, you’ve never sounded smaller in your life, and your heart pounds heavily in your chest while you wait for an answer. You need to know.

Agatha’s hands fidget on the counter, it looks like she wants to pour herself another glass of wine, but she refrains. “We can talk about what happens next later,” she says levelly and walks away without another word. 

The pit in your stomach only grows. How did you go from being fucked by Agatha’s strap not even an hour ago to this cold distance between you? She had been so possessive, so inflamed by the thought that you would even entertain another woman. 

The sound of her footsteps recedes up the stairs. What does she expect you to do? She picked you up from your mom’s house, and you can’t exactly call her to come get you. 

So you go upstairs and find Agatha in her bedroom, swiping at her face while she’s throwing clothes into a suitcase. You momentarily lose your train of thought when she slides open a drawer and you see about a dozen sets of lacy lingerie. 

Agatha clears it out and dumps it into the suitcase. 

And then your brows furrow in confusion. “Wait, you’re moving out? Why not make my dad?” 

She looks at you like she didn’t even realize you had come in. “It’s easier this way. I’ll get an apartment closer to my job. Your dad can do whatever he wants with this place, he’s the one that wanted it in the first place.” 

“Oh. Okay,” you say, a little dumbfounded. Everything is happening so fast, completely spinning out of control, and you don’t know what to make of it. She spares you another glance before standing up and moving to clear out her nightstand. 

She takes out a vibrator and the rope she tied you up with just yesterday and places them on top of the lingerie. 

“At least we don’t have to worry about my dad catching us anymore, right?” You try to joke, but definitely not the time or place.

Agatha stiffens. “Honey,” she starts, and you know you’re not going to like this. 

“No,” you interrupt. “You’re getting divorced. We don’t have to sneak around anymore, or at least not as much. I like you, Agatha, and I don’t know how you feel about me–” 

“I’m leaving your father because of you,” she snaps and it’s like you’ve been slapped in the face. A thick silence settles over the two of you and you can see how hard she’s clenching her jaw. 

“What?” You whisper. “He’s having an affair, I feel like that should be your main priority.” But your heart is beating fast and you feel like you’re getting close to getting something real from her. 

She rolls her eyes and faces you directly. “Obviously. But I was thinking about it before. He’s not the only one who’s been having an affair here.” Was she leaving him because it’s the right thing to do? Or–

“So…” The pieces are scrambling to connect in your mind. “You want to be with me?” 

Agatha scoffs like the idea is ridiculous. “Be with the eighteen year old about to go off to college and find plenty of girls her own age to fuck?” 

She’s insecure? You can tell Agatha doesn’t completely understand how she’s feeling either, you can see the storm brewing in her eyes. She’s conflicted, torn between her own feelings. 

You walk over to where she’s standing and put your hands on her shoulders. Agatha doesn’t even meet your eyes. But then you slide your hands down her arms, onto her hips, and sink down to your knees. 

Now she looks at you and swallows hard. You can see the effect you’re having on her, her blown out pupils, and it only spurs you on. 

Your fingers fiddle with the zipper on your pants, carefully watching her face for any sign of hesitation. You drag the zipper down slowly and she helps you take off her pants and steps out of them like she’s in a trance. She’s still wearing the strap-on, it still smells like you – fuck, don’t get distracted. 

You loosen the harness and slide that down her legs too before leaning in and nipping at her thigh. 

“Let me show you how much I don’t want someone my own age?” You offer, gazing at her through your eyelashes. 

Her hand tangles in your hair and you let out a quiet gasp. “Go ahead, babygirl,” she says in a low voice, the voice that always gets you going, and pushes your head in-between her legs. 

It’s a bit of an awkward position, with her standing above you, stance slightly widened with you on the ground in front of her, but you make it work. 

You flatten your tongue and lick through her folds, collecting her wetness and moaning at the taste. It’s something you’ll never get tired of. You think you could easily spend hours eating Agatha out, and that’s something you’d like to try if she lets you. 

When your tongue flicks against her clit, her hand tightens in your hair and she lets out a moan and you do it again, desperate to please, desperate to hear more sounds fall from her lips. She lets out a little gasp when you suck on her clit, and you do it harder. Agatha’s hips jerk and she tugs on your hair, causing you to moan against her pussy. 

“God, honey, right there,” she says hoarsely and you double-down on your efforts, rubbing your tongue up and down over her clit while maintaining eye contact. Her groan is deep and she keeps brushing away the hair that falls over your face so she can see you. 

Your hands trace her thighs, the front and the back, and you dig your nails into the skin, leaving crescent indentations. The muscles in her legs tighten and she tries to roll her hips against your face but the position you two are in makes that challenging. 

So she steps back, your tongue still moving instinctively even though her pussy is gone, and you whine her name. 

She smirks and runs a hand through her hair, collecting herself for a second. “Don’t worry, baby. Mommy just wants to move to the bed.” 

Agatha walks to her bed, sits and leans back, spreading her legs for you. Your mouth practically waters at the sight of her dripping cunt that was on your face not a minute earlier and you move to stand up, but she stops you. 

“Stay on your knees,” she orders and you clench around nothing. The carpet is rough on your skin, but you can feel yourself getting wetter from her intense but appreciative gaze as you practically crawl across the room for her. 

You finally get to her and you push open her legs even more, first deciding to kiss up the length of each inner thigh. She shakes beneath you, especially when you get close to the heat between them, and she gasps when you nip at the pale skin. And then you dive back into her pussy, thrusting your tongue inside her, and she’s able to grind much more on your face without fear of falling over when she’s sitting like this. 

Your stepmom rides your face and all you have to do is open your mouth and stick out your tongue and she does the rest; she drags her pussy all over, small huffs falling out of her mouth at the exertion. Agatha takes what she needs from you until you can feel her clenching and her hips start to falter – she’s getting closer. 

You slide your hands around the backs of her thighs and pull her even closer to you so you can take over, sucking roughly on her clit and then curling your tongue inside her and repeating, all while Agatha moans uncontrollably above you, her hips jerking with each touch to her clit. 

“Fuck, babygirl, right there,” she chokes out, you can feel her throbbing, feel her walls fluttering around your tongue, and you don’t change a thing about what you’re doing, keeping the same pace and speed to gradually build up her orgasm. You can feel her body getting tighter and tenser and you know she’s about to cum. 

You give her one last filthy lick up the length of her pussy and then suck on her clit harshly, and she cums all over your face, getting it absolutely soaked. 

As if you’d ever complain about that. Agatha looks so hot coming apart for you like that, and you can’t believe she’d ever think you’d rather have a college hook-up than her. 

It takes her a moment to recover, but when she tilts your chin up, you beam at her, and you can still see the heat in her eyes. 

And even though she just fucked you hard in the bathroom, you need more too. You surge up off your knees and almost knock her backwards with the force and capture her lips in a bruising kiss, all teeth and tongue and lips. 

She groans at the taste of herself on you and you straddle her lap, pushing a thigh between hers so you’re both able to grind on each other while you kiss. Her hands hike up the dress you’re still wearing so she can cup your ass and guide you on her leg, pushing you down harder against her, and you have to break away from her mouth to moan. Your underwear is absolutely soaked and clinging to you, almost getting uncomfortable. 

Your fingers fumble with buttons on her silky button-down and eventually you get so exasperated that you just rip it, buttons flying everywhere around the room. Agatha chuckles in amusement and tugs on your underwear, and you reluctantly get off her for a second to take it off. 

But then you climb back on her, your lips finding hers again, and this time when her hands wrap around your waist to pull you closer, she does fall back with how hard you’re grinding and kissing. 

You don’t care. Instead, you get an idea. You’ve never tried it before, but it seems like this would be the perfect time to. 

Sitting back up, you ignore Agatha’s confused look and chew on your lip. She lets you angle one of her legs up and over your hip, while you put your other leg over hers. When your eyes flick back up to Agatha’s, you can see recognition on her face and she looks positively excited. 

And then with a deep breath, you lower yourself down and a gasp escapes your mouth when your cunt touches hers. 

“Fuck, honey,” Agatha says and you have to pause before you become overwhelmed with pleasure. 

You slowly roll your hips and you both moan. “Mommy,” you whimper. “Feels so good.” 

Her hands settle on your waist while you lean forward, bracketing her head with your arms, and she helps you move against her, your wetness mixing with hers and making it easy to slide against each other. 

“Fuck, baby, you have no idea how hot you are,” Agatha murmurs, maybe more to herself than to you, but there’s no denying how much effect those words have on you. Your clit pulses and you keen, your movements becoming sloppy, but Agatha’s hips rise to meet yours and there’s an absolute mess between the two of you in no time. 

Your head drops down so you can pepper kisses against her chest and sternum, mouthing at her breasts through her lacy, gray bra. Agatha jerks beneath you, her clit stroking against yours and you pant hotly against her skin. 

“Mommy,” you whisper, your head starting to spin with how good it feels. Her wetness, being able to feel all of her so intimately, her ragged breathing, the slight sheen of sweat on her chest. You drag your tongue over the skin at her bra line and her back arches off the bed.

Your limbs are entangled and the movements become short ruts against each other, hands flying from cheeks to hips to breasts to thighs and you can feel the tension building in your stomach. Agatha is getting closer, too, she’s breathing into your open mouth and the only sounds in the room are the two of you moaning and the slickness of your wetness. 

“Fuck, right there,” Agatha says tightly, your clit finding hers, and the two of you grind just like that, the stimulation almost too good. “God, sweetheart, you feel so good.” 

Your hips stammer and she pulls you in for a kiss, strokes her tongue into your mouth, and you cum all over her pussy, the dam inside you exploding. Pleasure races through your veins and you think your mind goes blank for a second, absolutely no thoughts except for Agatha. 

She follows shortly after, her body twitching under yours and you can feel her orgasm as she rides it out against you. It’s the hottest thing you’ve ever felt, and the embers of the heat inside your stomach flicker. 

You stay on top of her for a minute or two, just soaking in the feeling of her against you like that. 

And then Agatha stiffens. “I don’t know if your dad is coming home tonight, but we should probably get cleaned up.” You groan at her mentioning your dad right now, right after possibly the best sex you’ve had in your life, but she has a point. 

You get off her and find your underwear, sliding it back on and fixing your appearance in the mirror. Agatha gives you a wolfish grin and a low whistle at your reflection and you roll your eyes playfully. 

She pulls on an entirely new outfit, her pants strewn on the floor somewhere and her shirt completely ripped open, and then she washes off the strap in the sink and puts that in her suitcase, too. 

It’s as you’re following her downstairs, carrying the other suitcase she quickly packed in your hands, when your dad opens the front door, looking flustered. 

“Agatha, please, talk to me,” he begs when he sees the two of you, eyes darting in confusion between you, probably wondering what you’re doing. Your stepmom walks right past him, and you awkwardly follow. “Sweet pea,” he says, this time referring to you. “What is going on?” 

“I know you’ve been cheating,” Agatha says, pausing when she gets to the door to whirl back around to face him. He looks like he just got punched in the stomach and you almost laugh. “I’m getting a hotel tonight, and then I’ll look for an apartment. You can have everything in this house. I’ll be talking to my lawyer tomorrow.” 

It’s the quickest settlement you’ve ever seen. When your parents got divorced, they had gone back and forth for months, bickering over the smallest things like blankets and game boards. You couldn’t be more relieved that Agatha just wants a clean break and no hassle. 

She opens the door and walks out of it, you only two steps behind, and you close it after you’re both outside, ignoring your dad’s calls for you to come back. 

You both wordlessly walk to her car and she opens the trunk to put her suitcases in. She didn’t pack all of her stuff, she will still need to come back and get the rest of her clothes and whatnot, but it’s a good start. You’re more than willing to come back by yourself and get the rest of her belongings, too. 

Agatha gets into the driver’s seat and you slide into the passenger’s. It doesn’t seem to be a question that you’re coming with her. 

“I know you don’t really want to talk about what happens next for us,” you say quietly, needing to get some things off your chest. “We don’t have to put a label on it or anything. But just know that I’m not going to do what he did, or throw you away like that. I really like you, Agatha. And if it’s just like this for however long this lasts, I’m okay with that. I just want you.” 

Her eyes stay on the road and her lips purse, but she doesn’t say anything. Maybe she won’t. 

But then her hand slips down across the center console and interlocks her fingers with yours and she squeezes. You can see the hint of a smile ghosting her face. 

You squeeze back. That’s all the answer you need. 

[calware]

Do you have any advice on how to write Dirk and Hal or know of anyone I could get tips from :0?

okay so first of all i want to say that i don't think that i'm really an 'authority' on the subject, or that anyone else really can be aside from andrew herself. but i do have some thoughts and opinions that i'm willing to share

#1 piece of advice is to reread the comic once in a while. or at least reread bits and pieces if that's too daunting or not feasible. the POV cam extension is really helpful for that because you can specifically reread just the parts where dirk is there (does not work for hal though iirc which is where the dialogue directory is the next best thing) anyway i suggest doing this because it's always better to have their canon depictions fresh in your mind so you aren't accidentally working off of purely fanon ones

i think this is more of just a writing tip in general but try to think about how much you intend to transform the character. and by that i mean how much you want to stick to canon characterization. no matter how far you go with it, your depiction should always be informed by canon, but you can go as far with it as you want as long as it's intentional. so for example, if you want to stay really close to canon characterization, go for it. but if you want to stick them in an AU, ask yourself how that will change their behavior, personalities, etc. and it you specifically want them to act differently than they do in canon, that's okay too as long as you justify it and make it believable to your reader. you don't have to be afraid of changing them as long as something happened to cause that change

i feel like these are the two biggest pitfalls people fall into, usually a combination of the two. either they just don't understand the character well enough to give a believable portrayal of them, they don't give the audience enough reason to believe their portrayal of them, or both. for example there are a lot of hal fics out there where he is evil and kills people for fun, which to me just tells me that the author didn't really get him. but the takeaway isn't that you should never make hal evil and kill people, just that you need to provide basis for the audience to believe that he would be evil and kill people while still feeling in-character for doing so. that's what i mean by intentionality, you need to understand why you make the artistic choices that you are making

i wrote down some common tropes (?) of hal writing i tend to see that are along the lines of "i see these a lot and they wouldn't be bad if the author just made them feel believable" if that's at all helpful. i can do some for dirk as well if anyone wants me to

3. avoid being reactionary. the homestuck fandom is so reactionary with its portrayal of characters, meaning that one mischaracterization will get popular, and people will complain about it and swing the complete opposite direction, leading to a different mischaracterization becoming popular. an example of this is everyone thinking dirk is the coolest ever, and then switching to think he's the lamest ever. just try to focus on your own perceptions of the characters based on what you read from the comic and what you agree with others on, don't form perceptions based on trying to break away from something else

4. this goes more for dirk than hal because hal isn't as popular, but just keep in mind that dirk isn't the main character. i think a lot of people attribute main character energy to him when they don't really have to. obviously if you write a fic about dirk, he's literally going to be the main character, or if he's your favorite character you're going to care about him more than the others. but that doesn't mean he's any more important, more special, more traumatized, more mentally ill, or what have you, than any other character. going back to the example from above, the people who treat him as both the coolest OR the saddest character are both portraying him as the Special Boy. when the reality is that they are all pretty special and he's not an exception

i hope that all made sense... if not feel free to ask and i can explain further if needed

[idstilldancewithu]

Forbidden Request | S.R

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Hotchner Reader

Summary: Spencer Reid always thought of every single outcome of his actions, but he did not, when Y/N Hotchner showed up to his door asking for something he couldn't refuse.

Warnings: Talks about being a prude, reader ask Spencer to take her virginity away (kind of) but doesn’t confess her feelings towards him and tells him to do her a favor as a friend, sitting on Reid’s lap, and age gap (20/30). Sorry if I accidentally missed anything.

A/N: Hi! This is the first time posting any of my work. English is not my first language. I’m sorry for any grammar mistakes. I’m still debating whether or not I should turn this into a series, but I hope you enjoy it!

Word count: 938

Part 1 | Part 2

•••

I could feel my heartbeat thumping in my chest, my hands shaking from anticipation as I knocked on Spencer's door, waiting for him to answer.

He opened the door with a hint of surprise in his eyes. "Y/N, is everything alright? Did something happen?" He worriedly asked opening the door wider signaling me to come in.

I walked towards the couch seeing files spread all over the table and books all over the floor. "I'm sorry for the mess. I didn't think I would have any company over."

I shook my head placing my hands in between my thighs. "It's ok and I'm really sorry for showing up unannounced."

He quickly shook his head, smiling reassuring me that he didn't mind. Spencer sat beside me and began stacking up the files in the table trying to clean up. "Do you want anything to drink?" He looked up at me.

"No thank you. Actually, I have to ask you something."

"Yes, of course what is it?" He moved closer to me placing his hand in mine.

Which is something he did every time I was anxious and needed comfort. I was his only exception, because he wouldn't do that with anyone else being a germaphobe. But, it always made my day better. That's why he let his walls down and made his brain stop thinking about the germs that could be transmitted through holding someone's hand.

His boss always failed to notice my state because, over the years having to grow up with a dad who was a profiler, I had to learn to lie and put on a facade when I was around him.

But, Spencer always noticed. No matter what I was hiding, he would always find out. Which is why once I would leave his office, Spencer would walk me out to the elevator.

Once the door closed, he would hold my hand, giving me much needed comfort.

I layed my head on his shoulder as he traced different shape on my hand. "Do you remember the boy I was going out with?"

"Yes, Jeremy Miller he goes to your college, and is majoring in law and criminal justice. He's twenty years old and asked you out a month ago, and you agreed. You also said the boy I was going out with. What happened? Did you break up?"

"Sometimes I forget you have an eidetic memory." I chuckled, trying to ease the nerves that were bubbling in my stomach.

"But, yes he broke up with me. Apparently he thinks I'm a prude, because I didn't want to go further than making out with him. Like, who even says that word anymore?" He squeezed my hand lightly.

"You deserve better than him Y/N and you're not a prude." He quickly reassured me again placing his hand on my chin making me look at him.

"He's not worth your time or attention. Do you understand?"

I nodded in response. "He's wasn't lying though. Spence, I've never gone farther than making out, and I'm twenty years old."

"Pretty girl, there's nothing wrong with that. The first time I did anything with a girl was when I was twenty four. Trust me there's no rush."

The nickname made my heart skip a beat. He had never called me that only Morgan did.

But coming from him, it only encouraged me to ask what I've been meaning to this whole time.

"Spence, can you change that?" He let go of my hand, and moved further from me his cheeks turning red.

"What? Y/N I'm..." I interrupted him.

"I'm tired of guys breaking up with me, because I can't bring myself to sleep with them. Just because I'm terrified of not being good enough. I'm also tired of telling guys that I'm a virgin, and them making it their mission to be the one to change that, like I'm some sort of task."

I got closer to him and placed my hand in his like he had done with me minutes prior.

"I trust you, Spencer. You're my friend, and I wouldn't want anyone else to do this with. I'm not asking you to be my boyfriend." He didn't respond but never let his gaze wonder anywhere else but my eyes.

"I'm asking you as a friend to help me. But I don't want to make you uncomfortable. I totally understand if you say no, and you want us to forget that his conversation ever happened."

I remained silent letting him process everything that I told him, my heart beating faster than before. But, I could already hear his kind rejection making my chest tighten.

Leaving me to wonder how I could ever get over him. The guy that I've loved since I was eighteen.

But I was tired of only being able to imagine how his hands would feel on my body, and biting my lip everything time I would touch myself to the thought of him.

Even thought, this could only happen once. I was willing to risk our friendship, and my pride to get to feel his lips on mine.

I got up, understanding that his silence meant no. As I began walking away, he spoke up.

"Wait Y/N, come here."

He placed his hands on his lap and patted it. I took that as a sign to sit on his lap. Once I did, he wrapped his hands around my waist pulling me closer to him.

Spencer tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear. "How could I ever say no to you pretty girl?" He whispered filling my body with excitement.

•••

Part 1 | Part 2

[lyrefromthesea]

i imagine Giyuu to be extremely touch-starved. now imagine him suddenly gaining interest in another person.

it's not his fault, really, he just didn't have the time to form proper bonds with other people. he couldn't live with normal people, they wouldn't understand. he couldn't talk with the other hashira, he wasn't worthy and yet he still had to stand next to them.

then he met you, perhaps he had seen you on a former mission, but decided to ignore you. you weren't like the other hashira, you didn't think you deserved their rank.

"i wouldn't have survived without the other demon slayers. they had my back", he heard you say to Mitsuri once. you were modest and didn't boast. over time he found his gaze lingering on you whenever a meeting took place. perhaps he had imagined it, but when he found you sitting next to him, he could only think of the first meeting you attended. you had been on the other side of the room far away from him, now you were close.

when did you start greeting him? he couldn't remember, but he started answering. he found himself appreciating your small conversations with him. suddenly it felt normal to sit next to you during your meetings.

and even today he would silently sit next to you, glancing at you ever so often. however, when the meeting ended, something unusual happened. your fingers brushed against his and his eyes widened just a bit. he looked at you, his eyes meeting yours.

"apologies, Tomioka. i should really watch what i'm doing." you chuckled, soon leaving the meeting like everyone else. he watched you go, his hand still tingling from your soft touch. your voice was still ringing in his ears.

he found himself back in his estate, clenching his fingers. his hands were rough from years of fighting. yours were softer, there was a clear difference. his body had felt hotter since you've touched him accidentally.

he imagined your hand in his, would you enjoy it as much as him? he hoped so, the urge to touch your skin had suddenly grown so strong.

no, that wasn't it, it was something else. and when he imagined your delicate hands trailing down his uniform, he knew why his body suddenly felt so hot.

the once quiet room now was filled with quiet pants and shaky breaths. his uniform was thrown on the other side of his bed, completely forgotten. he couldn't think of such unimportant things, not when he was focused on squeezing his cock just right.

he sat on the edge of the bed, slowly stroking up and down, occasionally rubbing his hand over the tip and letting out a grunt. he had tried keeping his thoughts together, he really did, but they would always come back to you.

he didn't want it to turn out this lewd, but it somehow made him feel better when he thought of you being here with him. would you stroke him slowly, trying to coax sweet moans out of him? would you be rough, giggling at his sudden groans? the thought made his head spin, his hand squeezing his cock a bit tighter.

he could never tell you, never risk ruining your current relationship, but he wanted to feel your pretty hand wrapped around his cock so bad. it wasn't hard to imagine it, not when you were so beautiful and so nice.

he could see it right in front of him, your tender hands would be wrapped around his cock, slowly pumping it up and down. your lips would be curled up in a smile, watching him fuck your fist, bucking his hips up. he would try to stay composed, but both of you knew he wanted it.

he felt himself grow closer, much earlier than he would like to admit, his strokes speeding up, getting rougher. he wondered if you would let him cum immediately or if you would tell him to wait just a bit, only to tease him. "Giyuu, i want you to cum.. can you do that for me..?" you would coo, earning an eager nod and a few gasps from him.

he grunted, his eyes snapping open when he felt his cock twitch in his hand. he felt his muscles tense, his seed shooting out in ropes. he lightly bucked into his hand - it was the one you touched earlier. he quietly grunted, getting up to clean the mess and yet the lingering thought of you remained in his mind.

he would've prefered the sight much more on your hand.

[toast-on-dandelioms]

What if reader accidentally called superman "dad" while they were on a mission? Like Batman needed some help tracking down some new murder cult and thought Spider could help? But they wouldn't come unless superman wasnt there since Spider does NOT trust the batfam?

Ok so, I'mma make a scene with your idea and then say what it would happen. Just to then explain how the Batfam would react.

You were called with Clark to a mission, knowing the Batfam was there but you didn't care since you knew Clark would protect you from them.

Plus you made sure to grab two tasers this time and incorporated a new type of web fluid that could emit electricity when it hits someone.

You did create it so you didn't have to use a taser but also so you could tase anyone of the Batfam that would dare to get too close to you or even touch you during the mission.

Clark finally landed while you adjusted your mask since you took it off while you were flying to feel the air in your (long/short) hair.

You looked at the batfam, already annoyed when they didn't even do anything but just their presence was a source of anger and annoyance for you.

While the Batfam was also annoyed that Clark was there but he had to come or you wouldn't even consider going with them to a mission.

You didn't say anything to them, just giving them the blank stare your mask provided and just stayed next to Clark, listening to them talk about what everyone was supposed to do in the mission.

Bruce did try to make you go with him or any of his kids, making you nervous since you couldn't really refuse without any excuse. You did have one but you can't really say "I refuse to go with any of your kids (directed to Batman) because I hate all of you".

But Clark surprised you by refusing any option of you going with any on the Bats and stated that you would go with him, making you smile a little and lean a little on the kryptonian.

Which made all of the Bats jealous and angry at the kryptonian.

At the end you were supposed to go with Superman in the hideout of the cult, which you were happy about it and quickly followed the kryptonian while ignoring the glares of the Batfam that were directed towards Clark.

Well, during the mission you got separated from Superman in the fight against the cultist when they suddenly ambushed both of you, making you panic since you never fought so many people at once.

Yes you did fight small gangs but usually they were just kids and you just had to punch one and all of them backed down immediately. So fighting a large group of people that knew how to fight was a bit difficult and extremely different from what you're used to.

Plus your panic doubled when you saw Damian and Dick approaching, probably to help you but in the fight and the panic in your mind made them seem even more dangerous than the cultists trying to stab you.

So you did the only reasonable thing that your scared mind wanted. You called for Clark while fighting three cultists at the same time, tasing a few of them while fighting.

The problem? You accidentally called him dad.

Bruce Wayne: oh god how angry was he when he heard that from Dick and Damian's coms.

(He still doesn't know who you are behind the mask but already sees you as one of your kids even though you're already are)

He quickly finished fighting the leader and ran to where you were supposed to be, quickly knocking out anyone who was in his way.

He did kill a few of those in his way, but he made sure to hide the bodies and will deal with it later by burning down the hideout.

He finally arrived at the spot where you and the others were supposed to be and he saw something that made him want to grab his kryptonite batarang to hit Clark.

Why? He saw you in Clark's arms, hugging him with all your might while he flew so neither Dick and Damian could reach you.

Plus the worst thing was the sick smile Clark had in his smile, like he planned it. Like he knew you weren't ready to go in such a big mission and would probably call him in a panic.

Bruce just glared at the kryptonian and signaled him to get out with you so they could get rid of the rest of the cultists.

Basically Bruce would be a jealous bitch even though he doesn't care about you when you don't have the mask on, and would use his anger against all the cultists there since he blamed them instead of blaming himself.

Clark Kent: oh he would be so smug whenever he sees Bruce and you're not with him.

Especially since he planned it. He might not be as smart as the Batfam but he knows people and especially you.

He knew you weren't ready for such a big mission since you mostly trained with him and fought small gangs in Gotham.

He knew you would panic while fighting and knew you would call for him when you couldn't do it anymore.

The dad part was a surprise but a happy one for Clark, he became so smug when you jumped in his arms when he quickly flew to you.

He did see the glares he received from almost all the batkids and especially Batman, to which he responded with a smug smile while rubbing your back.

He left with you since you didn't want to stay and he also knew Bruce caught the leader so he didn't have any reasons to stay.

Not sure if you also wanted the Batkids but I didn't add them, just comment if you also want to have the batkids reaction and I will add it!

[rose-tinted-kalopsia]

≡;-꒰  𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐃 (?) 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒  ꒱₊˚ ପ⊹ 𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆 & 𝑫𝒆𝒆𝒑𝒔𝒑𝒂𝒄𝒆 𝑩𝒐𝒚𝒔: 𝑨𝒘𝒌𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒅 𝑴𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒔 𝑫𝒖𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑺𝒆𝒙

──  mdni sexual content. inclusive of: vaginal sex, slight pet name usage, shower sex, getting caught, sex as a stress reliever. but overall this is a lot of fun LMAO

the truth, is that caleb would always be willing to experiment.

he's had so much pent up for you, that you'll frequently find he has something in new in mind to try out with you—or, in short, he liked to find new ways to have his way with you. so it wouldn't surprise you that eventually, you'd have your hands pressed against the glass, your head tilting back to meet his kisses. of course, it would feel good, like it always did. his cock would fill you so well, and taking it from behind made you feel everything so much more deeply. it would be oh so asy for both of you to get lost in the pleasure, droplets from the shower, running down your back, the rush of water doing nothing to drown out your moans.

... but shower sex is never just rainbows and butterflies, and sometimes, being fucked silly allows all sense of rationality to go down the drain.

it's quick, when it happens—caleb accidentally knocks down the bar of soap, and the already-running water makes things progressively worse. you gasp, wide-eyed, as you slip, and caleb seems just as surprised as you. perhaps, his reflexes did him no favors in the moment, as his attempts to catch you only have him slipping on the very same trail of soap you'd also slipped on.

the both of you remain on the shower floor with agonizing pain, and perhaps you look more like a drenched, unsatisfied cat than anything else.

"shit—fuck—m'sorry, pipsqueak..."

"...we should just stick to the bedroom next time."

sex with rafayel is always so intoxicating.

he'd have himself buried inside of you in a way that just feels so right, so perfect, that you would always find yourself lost in the moment. whether he goes slow, or fast, or even if he lets you take charge, the result is the same—you could only ever focus on him, him, him. perhaps, it was intentional on his part, but you liked it that way. he made you feel good.

except sometimes, rafayel was too much of an airhead that your distraction wouldn't always end well... such as one particular morning, where he had you pressed against his couch, fucking you as well as he always did, and the sound of footsteps barely registered in either of your ears.

"rafayel, why aren't you answering my calls? i told you, this is an important deal, and—holy fucking shit! are you insane?!!"

rafayel never quite bothered to lock the door, and though you knew this and tried often to get him to do it, there were still times that he would... forget.

such as right then.

in that moment, you would yelp, hitting at his chest, barely having the strength to push him off of you as he hastily throws a nearby blanket over the two of you instead.

and thomas would storm away, eyes shut tightly.

"god! lock the door, rafayel, seriously! just—just finish whatever you're doing and call me back!"

"yeah, yeah. bye, now!"

"...rafa?! never let that happen again!"

in the years you've spent together, you had come to the conclusion that xavier liked to relieve his tension in very specific ways.

you didn't mind it, of course; in fact, you enjoyed it. it's become an established part of your week, him pressing you against the door in as soon as you get home from a particularly tiring mission, soft kisses gradually turning more heated and passionate as he leads you into the bedroom. these moments were some of the only times he'd allow himself to be more selfish with his desires for you, and with no surprise, you'd find yourself looking forward to it—expecting it.

but on one particular night, you find him to be less... dominant, than he usually would be with you in these moments, almost passive. but his hands still roam your body, brushing against all the sensitive spots he's memorized like the back of his hand, still kissing you in a way that would make you melt—so you don't question it immediately. perhaps, you think, he wanted you to take the lead this time.

except, you reach down, and he's...

...not hard at all.

even as you rub against him, as his lips place soft kisses on your neck—

there's no reaction.

he looks up feebly and then you find the telltale traces of exhaustion on his face, the tips of his ears pink with embarrassment. his eyes are nearly drooping closed.

"sorry, angel, i'm too.... i think... i think i just really want to sleep right now, after all..."

"...oh..."

over the course of the past couple of weeks, you'd found that zayne's adorable affection for cats had gotten the better of him.

the calico cat you'd often see roaming his street would now prance happily around his house, feeling almost more at home than zayne himself—surely, at least, that it was certainly home more often than him. you found it adorable, and sweet, and you loved it, you really did!

but...

your more passionate nights with zayne would be rare enough as it is considering his busy schedule, and it was unfortunate that you now hard a rather... entitled audience.

he would by thrusting into you so nicely, so deeply, your legs hooked over his shoulder as he leaned in to whisper sweet nothings into your ear. often, your eyes would be closed as you took in every bit of pleasure he would give to you, fully focused on the feeling of his cock stretching your walls the way you so desperately needed.

...only now, when you open your eyes, you find that a certain ball of fluff had casually walked over to lay on zayne's back.

your eyes lock, and it's almost as if the moment is completely lost.

zayne would stop thrusting, noticing your change in mood, and then he'd recognize the weight on his back.

"...sorry, sweetheart... should i—"

"....it's staring."

"..."

"zayne, maybe... we should do this at my place next time..."

⁺₊ / an: light moments to start the day!!! 💖 it was super hard to choose what exactly to write because there's a lot of awkwardness that goes into sex, but i hope this was a fun little read~

© rose-tinted-kalopsia. all rights reserved. do not: steal, copy, repost, reupload, modify, or claim any of my works as your own, regardless of credit given. absolutely do not use my works for AI training and other related purposes.

[vivwritesfics]

Better Than He Ever Was - MV1

This gif makes me feral - I am on my KNEES

Y/N is pregnant and Max is sweating

Related works: Mini Me Prodigy

When Y/N Verstappen found out she was pregnant with Fabian, Max was terrified. He was utterly, utterly terrified.

He played it well, cheering and happy smiles when Y/N showed him the pregnancy test. To everybody on the outside, he was the overjoyed father to be, talking about Y/N and their baby on the way any chance he got.

There were very few people who saw beneath the facade Max was putting on. The first was Christian Horner, who himself was like a father to Max. The next was Charles Leclerc, who was way too excited at rhe prospect of being an uncle that he forgot he wouldn't actually be related to the baby.

Both said the same thing: that Max should talk to Y/N about it.

But where was he to begin? How did he tell her, after seeing how happy she was, that he wasn't ready to have a baby.

When she started showing? Oh boy.

It was never something Y/N wanted to keep hidden. As soon as she had all the tests she had taken come back positive, she posted something to all of her social media's. Max did, too, playing his part well.

Y/N didn't wear baggy clothes to hide her bump; she showed it off with pride. At every single grand prix she'd be standing beside her husband, hand over her stomach and the press took pictures of them.

Most husbands, when their wife's baby bump began showing, would be over the moon. But when Y/N started showing, it just made Max more fearful.

Y/Ns very first proper indication of the was when they were discussing baby names.

Any moment she got, Y/N was writing down potential names. She had at least twenty of each.

"How do you like Felix?" Y/N asked him as they watched a movie together. Max had been sim racing all day; this was the first proper moment she'd had to spend with him. "Or Daniel?"

"Daniel can be the middle name if it's a boy," Max said as he fed her a Malteaser.

Y/N moved over to her list of girls names. "If it's a girl, I liked Mila. Thought Mila Verstappen had a really nice ring to it."

Max just hummed.

It was two weeks after that Y/N finally sat him down.

"What's going on with you?" She asked, her hand resting on her bump. That morning her snack of choice had been stroopwafels, and she'd accidentally finished the entire box (but who could blame her? They're addictive).

"What do you mean?" Asked Max as he lifted the box to see what he was inside. Nothing, empty. He made a mental note to buy more.

A terrible, horrible feeling settled in Y/Ns stomach. "Please, Maxie," she placed her hand over his, rubbing her thumb over his wrist. "Tell me what's going on. I'm begging you!"

Max let out a huff. He hated himself. "I love you," he said, which definitely wasn't concerning. "I love you so much and I know how excited you are to have our baby, but I don't know if I can do it."

Her heart was beating so loud she was sure Max could hear it. "Wha-what are you trying to say?"

"I'm trying to say that I'm so fucking scared, Y/N. I'm terrified of being a dad. What if I raise our child like my dad raised me and the kid ends up like me? I'd never be able to forgive myself if that happened."

Oh. This wasn't a dire as Y/N thought it was. This was something she could deal with. "Come here," she said softly and tried to pull his chair closer. Max shuffled over. He let Y/N wrap her arms around him and rested her head on his shoulder. "Do you remember last summer, when we went on holiday with my sister and her kids? Do you remember how they loved you so much that they wouldn't leave you alone?"

They'd rented out a villa. Max and Y/N had just come back from their honeymoon when Y/N's sister had invited them away.

As soon as they had their things unpacked, the kids grabbed their uncle Max's hands and dragged him into the pool. "Let's race!" The oldest shouted. Max was more than happy to oblige. He raced them to the other side of the pool and back, letting them win, of course.

When Y/N and his sister started on lunch, Max was blowing up the inflatable pool toys and looking after the baby. He was a natural with all three of them. Y/N watched them out of the window as she buttered the bread and passed it to her sister. That was when she realised how wonderful of a father Max was going to be. That was when she realised she wanted to have his children.

By the end of the holiday, the children were obsessed with him. According to Y/N's sister they didn't stop talking about him until at least two weeks after the holiday.

Max nodded his head. At first he'd been secretly reluctant to entertain the kids. But he loved it, and he actually found it fun. Of course, it wouldn't be the same when it was his own child.

"You're going to be an amazing father, Max. You're so kind and caring and kids love you. Plus, you're aware of how shitty your dad was to you, you know what you have to differently," she said, running her fingers through his hair. "I'll be there with you every step of the way," Y/N whispered and kissed the top of her head.

Max was still terrified, but he was trying not to be. But Y/N saw him change. He really did become that cheering and happy father he was pretending to be at the start.

Aside from Formula One, Max's life became getting Y/N whatever she and the baby were craving. Stroopwafels, mostly.

They discussed names more when Max became more comfortable. He was a big fan of Nora. Nora Sophie Verstappen. It had a very nice ring to it, Max thought. Little baby Nora.

They'd struggled to settle on a name for a boy. After Max had suggested his mothers name for the baby's middle name, Y/N was afraid Jos' name was going to be thrown into the mix. Not after all of Max's fears and anxiety. They'd decided Hugo, Hugo Verstappen was to be his name.

If it was up to Y/N, Jos wouldn't be in the child's life. But, of course, it wasn't just up to her. It was a decision she and Max had to make together.

When they found out they were having a little boy, Y/N and Max were over the moon. They decorated the nursery, painting the walls to be like a Formula One track. The bottom third was all grass, the middle was the track and the rest was blue skies with fluffy clouds.

The track went all the way around the room, with little race cars painted onto the track. There was a little Red Bull with a 33 on it, and a little Ferrari with a 16. It was a friend who painted it for them, going into intricate details for the cars and garages.

And then Y/N went into labour.

All of those fears Max had managed to get past came flooding back. His wife was about to give birth to his little boy.

Max wasn't much help through the delivery. Actually, through most of it he wasn't allowed in the delivery room, since he was panicking too much.

He wasn't a Hugo. That was what Y/N and Max decided the moment he was born. He was a Fabian. Fabian Hugo Verstappen. He was the most gorgeous little boy in the world. That was all Max could think as he stared at him, cradles in his wife's arms.

His son. His boy.

"Welcome to the world, Fabian Hugo Verstappen."

[crookedteethed]

18+ - mdni

major warnings: rafe body shames reader, toxic relationship, very light smut, degradation/praise kink, body worship, fem receiving

⋆ ★ in which your toxic boyfriend scare you straight.

It was that damn skirt--you know, the one--the one that Rafe claimed to show your ass cheeks to all the men on Kildare Island--"babe it's like an early saint patty's day for all the men on Kildare" Rafe told you--yeah, that skirt. 

Rafe had told you to burn it. You laughed when he first suggested it, but when you noticed your boyfriend wasn't laughing, you realized he wasn't kidding.

You never really planned to burn the skirt (obviously, you wouldn't have been in this situation if you had done so.) You thought if you hid the skirt in the back of your closet for a few months, just until Rafe forgot about this particular skirt, then you could slowly start wearing it again. Obviously, you had thought wrong.

Your phone had been blowing up--all your girlfriends were texting and calling to see if you were okay because everyone and their mama saw when Rafe angrily walked up to you and your girlfriends having brunch at the Country Club--out of thin air--and snatched you by the arm and started screaming at you about how much of a dirty slut you were and how much of attention whore you must be, and then everyone--including their mama--saw Rafe grab you by the wrist and drag you to his car.

If everyone didn't know any better, they would have thought it was a live kidnapping.

But everyone in Kildare knows that this is Rafe Fucking Cameron we're talking about. Your boyfriend could get away with anything, and everyone would bat an eye, say like murder, for instance. 

You hadn't known why Rafe was so angry at you; anything could have happened,--you could've looked at Topper the wrong way, or "accidentally" touched Kelce's hand--or sucked JJ Maybank off out of spite (which may or may not have been a true accusation), so it could've been anything. 

Come to find out, it was the skirt that Rafe was so damn pissed about--the skirt that showed your ass to not just all the men in Kildare--but all the women, too--that's what Rafe had said this time on that drive home. 

"Did you see the way your friend Steph was looking at you, I swear she wanted to suck your clit off, y/n." His voice was chill-toned, but you knew he was angry.

"You're fucking delusional! Rafe." you spat, your arms crossed with your feet dangling out of the car window.

Then suddenly, it got super quiet, and then the car stopped at a red light, and then Rafe turned his head to you, and looked you square in the eyes and said: 

"No, I think you're the delusional one." 

You pinched your face together because something about this insult hurt. It was the fact that he looked you directly in your eyes and called you out of your mind, and then proceeded to say to you:

"I mean, your ass is just way too fat for that type of shit." a boyish smirk on his lips. 

The light had turned green, and Rafe sped off. 

"I thought you liked how fat my ass was?" you asked.

"I do baby, don't get me wrong, but let's admit it, you're a little bit too chubby for a skirt like that, don't you think? I mean, of course, I like the way your ass is--I love it--it's just that most people don't like the way that type of shit looks on girls like you."

The look of pure curiosity on Rafe's face suggested this was a true statement, and it was a fact that you were the wrong candidate to be wearing the clothes you were wearing. 

Your insecurities about your body suddenly exploded from the deepest parts of your brain--all the shit you'd been trying to hide since you started dating the Kook King, yeah, that.

You were stunned--too shocked to even speak--because this was very low of Rafe. This was even low for you because you weren't afraid to throw gut-wrenching comebacks at Rafe either, which showed how well you both know each other. 

It was fucked up how it made your clit throb thinking of how well Rafe had known you--to go as low as going for your body issues to actually hurt your feelings. 

I guess when you get accused of being a slut so many times, it just doesn't phase you. 

Rafe had finally gotten to you. You decided to burn the skirt once you returned to Tanny Hill--and maybe a few more of your clothes too.  The situation would have ended here if it hadn't been for stupid Bill Dumpty, the grounds maintenance guy. 

If Bill Dumpty didn't wave at you and compliment you on how lovely you looked, and if you didn't wave at him back and tell him "Why, thank you, Mr Dumpty! You don't look too bad yourself!" you joked, then you wouldn't be forced to look at your naked body in bathroom vanity held by Rafe's taut grip. At the same time, he said vile things about your body--oh, and about how much of a slut you are--which does seem to phase you this time.

Tears had run down the globs of your cheeks, your eyes, and lips just as glossy as your face, yet your boyfriend had shown no mercy to you. 

" "You don't look too bad yourself!" " Rafe had mimicked you. "And--and you expect me to believe that you aren't cheating on me? Do you really think I'm that stupid?" 

And as you cried, being forced to stare at your body in the mirror, you had tried to cover yourself because everything was all too much--your stupid skirt, your stupid body, and the way Rafe only ever made you feel worse about one thing to another. 

"Don't try to cover yourself, look at how much a filthy slut you are, you want men to ogle you so fucking much, ogle your fucking self first!" 

It was when you started to cry—ugly cry—that Rafe realized that his plan to scare you straight into getting rid of that skirt once and for all had gone too far. 

And the little insecurity Rafe thought you had about yourself was more extensive than he thought. 

Rafe had immediately sought into protective boyfriend mode (yeah, he knew he was a shitty boyfriend at times, but he knew how to treat you right.) 

Instantly, Rafe had hosted you up on the celluloid skin-- the shiny surface making the hairs on your body prick, and then Rafe's mouth was attaching itself to your nipple while his fingers started flicking the other one. 

You were still crying at this point, but you couldn't help but let out a little mewl and the sensation of Rafe's tongue lapping at your pricked bud. 

"I know baby, I'm sorry." Rafe mumbled into your plush skin--almost as if he was apologizing to your body directly, his lips going to one shoulder blade to the other, to travel down your belly, and his hands palming your ass and giving them a nice firm squeeze. 

"You know how I can get." Rafe now told you, his body slotted right between your gapped legs and his fingers cradled around your jaw--the jagged material of his jeans had been catching onto your clit periodically.

"I can just get so paranoid--I don't know why." He said against your lips, and he kept kissing your lips until the both of you couldn't breath anymore--honeslty tho, Rafe was just stalling, because he hadn't want to hear any thing out your mouth--he didn't want to already kick a man while he's down--Rafe already felt bad enough. 

Suddenly, Rafe had found himself leaving a trail of kisses down your neck, unto your sternum, and down onto your belly, and eventually, Rafe had found himself making love to your clit. 

"Fuck, you're so perfect. You're so fucking gorgeous." he groaned into you. You hadn't said anything--the only thing to muster out of your mouth being a whimper to moan-- because, again, you were too stunned at the way Rafe had completely done a 180--not like you were complaining, though, you'd like the way Rafe's saliva was coating your little bean right now.

"Look at this pretty cunt, it's already so fucking wet for me." Rafe had slowly said, his pointer finger protruding the walls of your slit, and slightly parting your cunt open--the cool air pierced your skin. 

"I'm sorry, baby." Rafe had said, slowly getting on his knees and getting distracted by pecking your inner thigh before going back to pressing small kisses and kitty licking your cunt. 

"I promise," Kiss. 

"I will never," Kiss. 

"Make my girl cry like that again, you hear me?" Kiss, which you both knew was a lie, but the way Rafe started full-on making out with your cunt--tongue kissing it in all--didn't give you any time to object to your feelings. 

"Fuckkk." you whined, placing your hand on top of his buzzed head. "Ray--I need you inside of me." 

Rafe took a break from your cunt, eyes so fucking soft, and lips glossed in your slick. 

"You know I want to give you what you want baby--I want to give you the fucking world--" Rafe kissed your clit once more before saying: 

"But you have to promise to do one thing for me." 

You nodded your head quickly, and Rafe squeezed the inside of your thigh. 

"You have to promise that you'll never ever leave me." 

Obviously, this was a promise you planned to never break. 

a/n: AHHH, YOU MADE IT TO THE END!! Thank you for reading. Don't be shy to tell me your thoughts! I love hearing your opinions!!! 🫶🏾 Also, I just wanted to remind you all that I in no way condone the behavior in this fanfiction! And if you or anyone you know are in a relationship that I depicted, don't be afraid to reach out to the DV hotline!

[jinxthequeergirl]

The Ol switcharoo (pt3)

Stan pines x reader/ ford pines x reader

Summary: 30 years pass and you meet stanfords family.

Warning: NONE

Sorry for another short chapter. Consider this a filler episode. Chapter four should be better.

~~~~~~~~☆~~~~~~

30 years is a long time.

You can do a lot in that time.

You can live a lot of different lives in 30 years.

You started cutting your hair in that time, Stanford taught you to box, You'd gone on many different adventures. Most of which you often questioned the legality of, but they still made you laugh.

Now you mainly tended to the Mystery shack no more adventures, you wondered as you sat on the couch next to Stanford when you'd gotten so old. And when your life had changed so much.

You had almost forgotten all about anything before your family vacation. you and Stanford had grown into a pretty comfortable life together. You wouldn't lie you'd come to love the life you've grown into with him.

But you've also missed the adventures you used to go on, finding monsters , exploring the unknown.

But you were only met with gluing eyeballs to pieces of plastic halloween decorations and making up stories to make out of towns folk get a good laugh in.

You had tried to find Stanfords journals just to "relive the glory days" but with no luck.

You were never sure what happened to them, if he had accidentally tossed them out, if he had lost them himself or if that was part of what happened while you where away. Either way you stopped looking. You never asked about them either.

Stanford seemed to really enjoy his life with you too, you never got the idea he wanted to turn back or like he was waiting for some big adventure.

"This may sound corny but you and the mystery shack are my big adventure...I wouldn't trade you or the old shack for anything y/n. Not. For. ANYTHING."

So you stopped worrying yourself with the journals or the old research, let alone the real monsters that lurked in the woods.

You hunkered down, sold stories and bumper stickers in your matching suits and watched night time television before falling asleep on top of eachother every night.

This was the routine you'd fallen into. You found it odd if you had to sleep without Stanfords shoulder as your pillow or his jolt of laughter before he realized you fell asleep. It was odd for both of you to not debate who got giftshop duity over tour duties. (You always got gift shop.)

It was odd when a pair of twins arrived on your front lawn.

"You never talk about your family." You said following Stanford down the stairs to meet them. "Sure I do." He said clearly a little nervous.

"Mmm no...I didn't know you had a sister! Let alone great neices and nephews!..excuse us, Soos." You say almost chasing him through the gift shop almost knocking soos over.

He paused as both of you looked out the little door window at them. "Listen...I'm sorry I didn't tell you about my family... to be fair... we aren't really close..but somethings came up and-" You could see his stress building up as he tried to piece together something that made you understand how important it was to make a good impression on those kids.

You placed a hand on his shoulder. "I'm here with you... you can explain it all later, but right now, I'm right by your side, like always." He smiled and placed a hand on top of yours.

Before heading outside to me, you are in tow.

"I DIDN'T KNOW I HAD A GREAT AUNT! A GRANT!? A GRRR...GRAUNT!?" The girl in the pair shouted excitedly after stan had introduced you to them.

"That's cause you don't. We aren't married y/ns a friend."

You laughed at the girl who energetically and enthusiastically introduced herself as Mable. The introduction was followed by several need to know now questions, all of which would later be scribbled onto a paper for you to fill out and return to her.

☆what's your favorite color

☆ do you like my grunkle stan?

☆if you were a magical creature, what would you be? Why? WHAT WOULD I BE? why?

☆do you LOOOOVEEE grunkle stan?

☆opinion on stickers?

"Alright, you two leys get you up to your room for the summer." Stan said, pulling Mable away from you and grabbing her bags.

You grabbed the second set of bags and followed stan and the two kids.

"Dipper, right?" You asked the boy who fell in line with you "oh yea! Yep that's me!" He laughed nervously.

"Very cool name,I like your hat by the way." You prayed you didn't seem like you were trying too hard to get them to like you.

"So you and grunkle stan run this place?" Dipper asked, looking at all your hot glue collages as Stanford decided to give them the grand tour before their room.

"Yup." You nodded.

"What's the point? Isn't this all fake? I mean... I can see the string on the invisible man's glasses." He said pointing out the attraction as you passed.

"Oh c'mon Dipper, how could you not love the jackalope!? Is he a deer? Is he a rabbit? I can't tell!" Mable said, carrying the creature in her arms like a teddy bear.

"I just don't get it? Why lie to people when I'm sure there has to be something real out there!"

You smiled at him. He sounded like you when you were a kid...he sounded more like Stanford before the shack. "You like the supernatural?" You asked.

"Oh yea, dippers a huge nerd he loves all that junk!" Mable said punching her brother in the shoulder.

"Oh, here we go! Don't get this one started on mystery and supernatural boogie men!" Stanford said, stopping to join your conversation.

"Y/n used to be big on hunting and looking for stuff like this." He said, wrapping his arm around you. "Used too...I haven't in over 30 years...it got too complicated." You opted to give them a simple answer as to why you stopped.

"Really!? That's so cool!" Dipper exclaimed. "If you ever need someone to go on adventures with, you can trust me."

Over the upcoming weeks, it was slightly rocky with the kids getting settled in, but eventually, they started warming up to the shack as well as yourself and Stanford.

You were quite pleased to have their company, actually. You felt something change in your everyday lives when they entered the shack.

"Depending on who you ask." You said continuing your story as you placed plates in front of the kids. "Your grunkle and I are married." The kids gasped. "Only through some silly machine in Vegas it wasn't real there was this one time -"

Stan chuckled to himself as you told the story of your fake marriage in Vegas as he watched the three of you laugh in the kitchen.

He smiled. Watching you frantically move your arms to further dramatice the story, a certain shine he'd noticed had been missing from your eyes for a few years now. You had it when he'd met you.

The same day, he knew things would be different for him. They HAD been different. You accepted him for everything he was. You went along with his crazy shenanigans. You gave up a whole life for him.

He remembered the birthday parties you had thrown for him. Even if you were the only person to be there for him.

He knew after a few years of you doing so that you would always be the only one there. He had the strangest feeling the night of his 35 birthday when he realized this.

He lied awake in bed, staring at the ceiling when it occurred to him what the feeling was.

"Oh no."

He quietly snuck away from you and the kids, still hearing your laughter erupt through the house behind him. He made his way into the darkened gift shop and punched a code into the vending machine, and went down to the basement he swore to you he'd destroyed.

30 years, and all he had offered you was lies. After all you'd done for him after all the care you'd shown him after all you had sacrificed. He just wanted you to have a normal life. A good life.

Not something he had fabricated.

He spent most of his time thinking about the large machine that still sat in his basement, the other half worrying about you. If he was giving a good life if he was soing as good a job being in your life as you had done for him.

He worried about what might happen when, IF he was able to pull of bringing his brother back.

How would you react to being lied to for 30 years. Maybe you did really feel the same way he had felt about you for years and you would forgive him.

In order for that to work, he'd have to actually admit his feelings to you.

He wanted to, he also wanted do a lot more for you in the 30 years you'd been together but always failed before he could make a move or do anything really. He pushed aside a notepad filled with ideas of kind gestures he could do for you (most of which were crossed out) and replaced the space with the journal Ford had left him.

He would get it right.

All of it.

Eventually.

Then again.

He could always ask Mable.

While you laughed with two kids at a dinner table and Stanley beat himself up about lying and tried to rebuild his life.

The real Stanford pines sat out there amongst the stars with nothing but a creased photo of the two of you and wondered why it was taking you so long to find him.

~~~~~~~☆~~~~~

Taglist:

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[verstappensrealwife]

His Lucky Charm - Max Verstappen x reader

[max verstappen masterlist / f1 masterlist]

ʚɞ in which... charles doesn't love her back... luckily max has always loved her. ʚɞ fluff, smut, angst ⋆⭒˚.⋆ 2900 words ʚɞ warnings: partial Charles x Reader but never together, smut (max x reader), swearing, reader is on “birth control”

-୨♡୧-

2015

(age: 15)

You formed your little crush on Charles when you were 15, your parents and his own hosting a dinner to celebrate something or other. You didn't know. But what you did know was that Charles was 18, and beautiful. He had accidentally bumped into you when you were walking into the kitchen. "Oh sorry Y/N." He said, without thought, and then shuffling past you, while you stood still, bright red.

                    Eventually you came to your senses and carried on through the kitchen, getting the drink you needed so desperately now.

You sipped on the icy-cold water through a straw as Charles came back into the kitchen. He smiled at you, saying nothing more. You smiled back dopily, watching him closely.

"What do you think?" He said, snapping you out of your thoughts.

"Huh- what?"

"The shirt," He gestured to the Van Amersfoort Racing shirt, smiling proudly at his accomplishment.

"Really good," You smiled, getting a little closer, your attempt at flirting. He backed up slightly, walking into the door of the fridge.

"Oh- erm-," He stuttered, not wanting to upset you by rejecting you, but finding the outcome of you touching him worse. "You- Sorry..." He said quietly, "You're just too young."

You nodded, taking a few steps back, further than where you had started. You threw the rest of the water into the sink and placed the glass beside it before mumbling a quick apology and going to sit with yours, and his, family.

-

2017

(age: 17)

Charles was now in F2, your crush had only developed more. But you hadn't done anything about it. Waiting till you believed you weren't too young. And now you thought you were. You'd grown in a few particular places, finished secondary school and now getting your general Baccalaureate in Psychology.

              You were drunk, proclaiming sobriety, at a party with best friend, Arthur. He had found struggle in trying to reason with you and get you to drink water, so never mind even attempting to charter you home. His only resort was to call Charles. He wouldn't tell your parents- who in their right mind would- and he knew you'd listen to Charles.

When Charles walked in you cheered loudly, throwing yourself at his arms, he held most of your body weight up. "You smell nice," You slurred with your face on his chest. He thanked you quietly.

                    "Ready to go home, Y/N/N?" He asked you, watching as your eyes scanned his face quickly. Arthur was no where to be seen now. In fact no one was. It was just you and Charles, alone in the bathroom he had found you in doing god knows what drugs off the sink. "What have you been doing?" He asked innocently.

"nothing..." You reply sheepishly. You smiled dopily. The same smile you did two years ago. He sensed what would happen next and managed to sit you down on-top of the toilet-seat.

"You're still too young for me..." He said, not meaning to embarrass you. But you still went bright red. Tears welled in your eyes. "I'm sorry... let's go huh?"

You nodded. Following him slowly through the party.

-

2018

(age: 18th bday)

You were celebrating your 18th birthday. Finally. You waited all night for Charles however. You still enjoyed the party, and the fun that came with it. And your 'first ever drink' as your parents thought.

    But you wanted him there. Now you were 18, maybe you were old enough for him. Maybe he'd like you back. Maybe he'd...

He'd walked in with another girl. She was beautiful. Black hair, green eyes, tall, a gorgeous dress over her body that was equally perfect.

You wanted to crumble and die.

"Happy birthday!" He smiled, handing you a gift bag. You smiled, ignoring the ache in your heart as she smiled at you. You couldn't blame her. You weren't mad. You were just heart broken.

You pried open the bag and saw a Ferrari shirt. You frowned, confused. Pulling it out and then dropping the bag, you unfolded it and saw his name, and his number on it. "Charles Leclerc 16".

"Oh- my god!" You yelled, "You did it Charles!" You screamed happily. Even if you were completely in love with him, he was still first and foremost, your friend. And you knew how much he has wanted this. You flung yourself at him, hugging him tightly. "I'm so proud- what the fuck!" You pulled back, examining the shirt once more. You didn't spend this birthday dwelling on his girlfriend, but instead on the fact that he was now a signed Ferrari driver. Well, not until next season, but either way you were ecstatic for him.

-

2019

(age: 19)

You had moved countries to study for a while, you never did catch up with F1, despite your childhood friend being one of the top point scorers of the season so far.

             It was the end of August and the Belgian race was coming up soon. You were unaware of that until Arthur during your weekly phone call had brought it up, and how he wishes you could come.

"I can..." You said.

"You can?!" he shouted.

"Yeah," You laughed, "Do you not remember? I finish my year out in like... a week."

"Come- PLEASE- oh my god please come Y/N, Charles will love to see you! And so will Maman!"

You nodded to the phone, "Okay... only if you pay Arthur," You joke, fully intending to pay for yourself. However when you got the confirmation emails for your tickets and flights you laughed loudly, all while on the call.

-

A few weeks later and you were scanning into the Spa circuit. Walking towards the Ferrari garage and seeing Arthur first. You ran and jumped on his back, scarring the life out of him, curse words flying out his mouth in his mother tongue. You dropped off his back and he spun around, quickly hugging you.

"You're here!" He cried, Charles walking over to see what all the shouting was about. He could only see Arthur's back.

"What are you yelling abou- Oh!" He paused, seeing you. "Y/N!" He smiled, opening his arms for you to run into. You smiled when he kissed your forehead.

It was the day before the race, and all drivers were out, doing track walks, or going to see the other drivers.

"What are you doing here i thought you were studying in... wherever."

"I finished early!" You smiled proudly, he looked at you with a look of adoration of how smart you truly were. You noticed his stare, and the way his jaw tensed.

From previous life experience- you knew that usually led to kissing. However when you looked down at his lips, he was quick to step back. "R-Right... too young." You whispered. Only he heard and he nodded.

-

You cheered loudly as Charles finished first!

When he came back to the garage, he hugged everyone m, leaving you last. He came over to you and smiled. "My good luck charm," He joked, since he hadn't won a single race til you got here.

-

A week later you were in Italy, on the Monza track, cheering Charles as he took the same position again. He now thoroughly believed you were his good luck charm. Even proclaiming so in his after-race interview.

"Question for Charles— What do you think has changed in your racing to make you win your last 2 races now?"

"My brothers friend- and my friend too of course- now that she's here I seem to only ever be winning. Not that I can complain, she is amazing..." He said, trailing off with a look in his eyes no one could place.

—

For some reason that made you all emotions of sad, happy, and angry.

You left that race early.

Walking into the hotel, into the lift, you heard a shout. Quickly you shoved your arm infront of the closing doors. Seeing Charles jump in after you.

"Hi," He said quietly, only the two of you in the lift.  You smiled back, saying nothing. "Why- uh- Why did you leave early?" He asked, genuinely confused.

"I- seriously?" You sighed. He nodded, "Because, Charles! Because you're telling me i'm too young, then boasting about how much you love me in interviews while still keeping up that 'too young' view of me. okay?! I liked you, i have done for so long! And you throw it in my face every single time. I'm sick of it Charles!" You exploded. He stood there like a deer in headlights, mouth open slightly. Shocked at your outburst.

"I thought you'd move on eventually - I- I am so sorry."

"Save it, Leclerc." You mumbled before the elevator stopped. "Don't worry anymore, I'll move on this time." You said before stepping out.

Once the elevator's door closed you let the tears flow. Walking to your room silently, until you turned the corner into a firm chest. The man stepped back quickly, profusely apologetic to you.

"Verstappen?" You said.

"Erm.. Yea- oh! Y/N?!" He said, he recognised you from his Karting days when you'd go to support Charles. And recently from cameras all panning to you when Charles had called you his 'lucky charm'.

"Are you okay? you look like you're crying."

"I'm fine- I just- Charles... is a dick."  You sighed. He laughed, agreeing without using words. You remembered your own words, 'move on'.

"Well- erm- i hope you both figure it out. You're a great couple." He said.

"Oh- No! We're not. No." you corrected him, "He never wanted me... i'm 'too young' apparently. But that's fine. I've  needed to move on for a while, just never had the opportunities, or the strength to really leave my feelings for Charles." You said. "Sorry- I don't know why I told you all of that,"

"It's fine- and if it helps, I think you're way too beautiful to be with Leclerc anyways." He said.

Was he flirting?!

"You really think that?" You asked quietly, he nodded silently. You took a breath, "I- thank you... Verstappen."

"Max..." He said, correcting you.

"Sorry- Max." You said, the more you looked at him the more you found him attractive. He was beautiful in-fact. Blonde hair, bright blue eyes, not to mention the firmness of his chest when you had barged into him.

He was watching you too, your soft lips and perfect body. A red- off the shoulder- summer dress flowing to your mid thighs.

"I- sorry if this is forward, do you wanna get a drink?" He asked, biting his lip and looking at you hopefully.

You nodded, "I'd love to," You giggled.

-

You both stumbled back to the hotel, it was almost 4am. You were drunk. He was drunk. You were both needy...

You went to your room, it was closer than his. He slammed your back into the door when as soon as he walked through the door. His lips were on your collar bone, neck, and finally lips.

"Fuck, Y/N, you- all of you- you're perfect." He whispered, his hands gripping your hips leaving finger-shaped bruises.

"I need you- Max- please fuck me."

He groaned heavily as his lips trailed from your neck to collar bones, sucking gently on the skin leaving love-marks along your skin. He quickly pulled the dress zip down, pulling the dress off of you and undoing the bra strap, letting it fall down with the flowing skirt of the dress. You reciprocated his actions by unbuttoning his shirt and trousers. You palmed his dick while it was still held in his boxers.

               He hoisted you up to wrap your legs around him, there, he carried you towards your bed, laying you gently on your back. He got on his knees infront of you, "Can I..." He asked, about to pull your underwear off. You nodded quickly. "Words?"

"Yes- Yes Max!" You cried. 

You groaned as his tongue first touched your clit. His tongue circling around before plunging his fingers inside your cunt. You moaned out louder. "Please- Mmmh~ Max!"

He pulled away before you could cum, climbing on top of you and ridding his boxers. "Condom...?" He asked. You shook your head.

"Birth control," You smile. He groaned at that, before gently pushing inside you. He was slow; at first. But he sped up quickly.

"That's a good girl," He whispered in your ear quietly, "So beautiful." He smacked his hips into yours, moaning softly with each thrust.

He pulled out and turned you over, lay on your stomach he continued his action, this time smacking and grabbing your ass. Leaving harsh red marks on the skin. His thrusts not sloppy, but perfectly in rhythm, each slap of skin like a song.

"M-Max," You moaned, "Wanna.." you said, unable to get a coherent sentence out.

"Do it then, schatje" He said, the pulsation of your orgasm tipping him over the edge, spilling himself inside of your warm pussy. He groaned and thrusted once more before halting and slowly pulling out.

"I- I'll go get you a towel," He said, before walking to your bathroom and taking the first towel he saw. He brought it back, "Are you okay?" He asked as he cleaned you gently.

You nodded silently and cuddled into the sheets once he was done. He helped you put on his shirt to sleep in buttoning the final button before he was about to pull his boxers on.

"Don't leave..." You muffled into the pillow. He looked at you softly. He smiled and got into the bed with you

"I couldn't... you're wearing my shirt anyway." He said quietly, you ignored him. Instead, wrapping your arms around his torso and gently resting your head on his chest. He held his hand on your waist. "Goodnight." He said quietly, you mumbled back in return and before you knew it you were both fast asleep.

-

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

"I know you're in there just answer the door!" Max heard a voice shout from outside the room. You had clearly heard too, thus resulting in you forcing your head further into Max's pec muscle. You pulled the sheets up above your head.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

Max sighed, making you do the same. You wriggled out of the comfort of his arms and shuffled over to the door. Opening it to see Charles stood there. "Erm?" You mumbled confused.

"Listen- I'm sorry ab— what are you wearing...?" He mumbled, knowing you usually slept in actual pyjamas.

Cough, Cough! came from inside the room. Charles looked at you, then behind you. He couldn't fully see the bed from the door and tried to step in further.

"What are you doing?" You stressed, watching as he barged through the room.

"WHAT THE FUCK?!" You heard him exclaim. You followed him in before remembering what- or rather whom- was in your bed.

Max smiled at the Monegasque, not fully understanding his issue. He understood to an extent, they did hate each other as kids and were rivals for a while. But it seemed he was more mad about the fact you slept with someone else. Not that it was Max, half naked, in your bed.

"What is he doing in your bed?" Charles asked you.

"Sleeping..." Max said, confused.

"Do not talk to me." Charles snapped at him. Max held his hands up in surrender and stayed silent. Charles looked at you. Wearing nothing but Max'a shirt from after the race yesterday.

"What does it matter, Charles?" You asked with a disappointed sigh. "You said you wanted nothing to do with me romantically. Sue me for moving on."

Charles stayed silent. You were right. And he was too late to even try and change your mind. He looked between the two of you. He wanted to argue but... what could he really argue here?

"Yeah- You're right... sorry." He mumbled. "I'll see you later, maybe?"

You nodded silently and he left, closing the door behind you.

Max was staring at you. You looked from the door back to him. "Hi," He said. You smiled and climbed back into the bed. He wrapped his arms around you again. "Are you okay?" He asked.

"I'm good," You smiled up at him.

"I know it's a little late now, but do you wanna go out on a proper date with me maybe?" He asked, shyly, with crimson cheeks and messy hair.

You smiled and nodded, "I'd love to, Max."

-

2019 (but later in the year)

(Age: 19)

Max cheered as he flew past the finish line. Pulling into first place he jumped out the car and pulled his helmet off, immediately running to find you. You were standing between Ferrari and Red-bull. He found you and immediately let go of the helmet and dragged you into a hug.

"My lucky charm now, all mine," He told you in your ear making you laugh. He pulled his head back and kissed you hard on the mouth. A teeth clashing, lip bruising, sort of kiss.

"You smell bad," You laughed softly, "but you are so welcome for helping you win."

He smiled, ignoring your first comment.

In post interviews he made clear that you were his lucky charm. And that no matter what you would always be just that.

-

2023:

November 26th

(age: 23)

Max had won the championship for his 3rd time in a row. He- as if ritual- immediately after winning in Abu Dhabi, rushed over to crush you in a hug. "I am so proud of you, baby." You said.

He looked at your face and kissed you. "My lucky charm since 2019." He smiled.

———

el fin.

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

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[crheativity]

Hello there! I came across your blog and enjoyed reading your post about the Overblot Squad Plushie Parts. I was wondering if you would consider writing a Part 3 where the Squad discovers that their plushies have been stolen. It turns out that the culprits are their Vice Dorm Wardens - either Kalim (since Jamil is Vice Dorm Warden) or Ace (since Trey wouldn't do that). I'm curious to know how the Overblot Boys would react to this situation. Have a pleasant day/night!

SUMMARY: Someone took the Overblot Squad’s plushies! How do they react?

WARNINGS: T*cked in Riddle’s section, sorry if Malleus’ wasn’t that good, writing his was really tricky.

COMMENTS: Hehehehe as soon as I read this my immediate reaction was “oh they’re screwed.” 

Part one - Prefect making the Overblot Squad plushies of their respective Seven member - can be found here. Part two - Prefect making the plushies clothes and accessories - can be found here.

He. Is. Ticked. ALL of Heartslabyul is on lockdown until he finds whichever culprit was bold enough to steal something from him! And stealing something that his beloved made from him? Heads are going to roll.

Riddle literally stops people from leaving Heartslabyul and searches every room himself. He, unsurprisingly, finds plenty of contraband, but doesn’t find his beloved plushy anywhere. He’s almost in tears. He really doesn’t want to tell you he lost it, but all hope seems to be lost-

That is, until Ace hands back the plushy with a sheepish apology. He explains that he had to drop something off in Riddle’s room and accidentally knocked the toy into the trash can. He stole it to clean it and was gonna sneak it back. He didn’t think Riddle would notice that quickly!

Ace still loses his head, but only for a week instead of a month, since he had good intentions. Riddle remains snippy at Ace for months afterwards, though.

Walking into his room, Leona realises that something is wrong. You - or at least, the plush you made for him - is missing. He spends around an hour searching his room for it and ends up being extremely irritated when all traces of it are gone. He doesn’t want to admit to his dorm members that he actually misses it, so he tries to sleep without it for a couple of days.

This makes him even more irritated.

Eventually, he wears himself down enough to ask Ruggie what had happened to it. Ruggie groans and explains that the smell of you coming from the plush and accessories was waaay too much for any normal beastman, and that he (along with other Savannaclaw members) had gotten fed up with it and hidden them.

Leona offers Ruggie 2,000 thaumarks to return them. Ruggie doesn’t think twice. 

Azul is sobbing ALL DAY. He is INCONSOLABLE. Octavinelle is getting embarrassed at the fact that their dorm leader - the best and brightest among them - is an uncontrollable mess over the fact that his toy is missing. But what can he do? That’s his best friend, gone! He’s looked everywhere and he can’t find it! What will his Angelfish say? He can’t bear to imagine the look on your face when he tells you he lost it!

He literally pays people to help him find the toy, yet no matter how much money he throws at them and no matter how hard they look, it’s just gone. It’s almost like someone stole it… no, he can’t think like that. If someone really did steal it, he’d probably never get it back! He just wants to hide in an octopus pot.

The Tweels are torn between thinking it’s hilarious and wanting Azul to shut up already. Eventually, Jade returns the plush, explaining that he thought it was fascinating and wanted to study it closer, yet didn’t think Azul would agree. (He also wanted to see Azul’s reaction to his favourite plushy being missing.) Azul is in TEARS of RELIEF and hugging that plushy. He refuses to let it out of his sight anymore. It will go with him (almost) everywhere. Floyd thinks the whole situation is hilarious and will NOT stop teasing him about it.

Jamil at first doesn’t seem like he’s phased. However, those who know him notice the ticks; the muscles in his face twitching with annoyance whenever he’s asked to do anything and the sarcastic comments he often thinks and not says become mutters under his breath instead. He becomes a lot more aggressive in his tasks - forgoing the typical, painstaking care he usually takes for finishing his tasks quickly and shutting everyone out.

He remains this way for several days. People start to get vibes from him and avoid him, which annoys him even more. He just can’t get it out of his head. Why is he so annoyed? Is it because every time he thinks of the missing doll, he thinks of you, upset at him for losing it (whether you actually are or not)? …maybe. He won’t let himself admit it either way. 

A couple of days later, Jamil finds the doll - sitting on Kalim’s bed. He’s immediately interrogating Kalim. Kalim happily explains that in trying to help out Jamil, he decided to try and help clean his room. He knows that the doll means a lot to Jamil, so he wanted to get it cleaned for him! Jamil appreciates it but he’s also this close to losing his temper. Please, just, next time, tell him first, okay? sheesh.

Vil is going to lose his mind. His doll has gone missing. He cannot find it anywhere. He’s already torn apart his room at least three times and called every single studio he’s done a photoshoot in or acted for in the past two months, asking if anyone had seen it. Yet no traces have been found. He has a headache. 

On top of that, Rook has been acting particularly frustrating recently - constantly checking up on his mood and popping out of the most random places. It’s almost as though the universe has coordinated this on purpose.

Wait.

Upon confronting Rook, Vil finds out that his theory was correct; Rook did in fact steal the plush. Apparently, he’d “wanted to see the beauty of Vil’s yearning for the precious thing his beloved made for him,” and so he’d hidden it for a while. Vil’s this close to shaking him by the shoulders, but at least he’s got the plush back.

Pookie? Pookie is missing! Uh oh, that ain’t good. He’s gotta find him, quick. The gacha banners are about to change and he already pre-farmed the mats needed for the character he wants. How’s he supposed to hit those 0.6% odds while without the Little Guy?

He’s tearing apart his room, trying to find the skrunkly before server reset. There’s no way he would’ve taken the toy outside to touch grass, right??? So it’s gotta be in here. Except it’s nowhere to be found. 

He’s about to give in to some totally cringe behaviour - going and looking for it outside - when Ortho shows up, holding the marketable plushie. Idia is snatching it from Ortho and spinning it around the room before flopping on his bed, before realising how cringe he just was. At least he can do his gacha rolls now?

(Ortho’s really confused. He just took it to wash. Did he do something wrong-? Oh well, as long as his brother’s happy now)

As soon as Malleus discovers the plush toy is missing, the rain starts. As he continues to look and ask around for it and doesn’t find it, the rain gets worse. Eventually, NRC has a full-blown hurricane on its hands. 

The weather stays like this for a good two days. Classes have been cancelled as asking students to walk across campus in that much of a downpour would lead to a school-wide riot. And Malleus is still sulking in the corner about his missing plushie.

That is, until a sheepish Lilia surprises Malleus with the plush. He explains that it must’ve fallen in with the laundry and gone through the wash. Since the weather has been so erratic lately, it had to go through the dryer too rather than be dried by the sun, which is why no one noticed where it was for so long.

The rain instantly clears. Malleus hugs his plush and decides to take her to visit you. All is right in the world again. 

♥Thank you for reading!! I hope you enjoyed it!!♥

[thesummerstorms]

You know that conversation you can have with Emmrich where he asks what your plans are for your body when you die?

I think Arsinoë accidentally horrified him. Not by clinging to non-Nevarran ideals about cremation, but by telling him she never thought anyone would care that much one way or the other.

She would be dead, so she wouldn't care. And honestly, a majority of compradi die as Fledglings without graduating; she thinks their bodies were probably burned (since you have to do something with bodies) but they certainly don't have funerals, so it certainly wasn't worth worrying about then.

Emmrich interjects, trying to wrangle his own shock long enough to point out that she's not a Fledgling now, so surely...?

Well if she dies now, Arsinoë all but shrugs, it would depend on the circumstances, wouldn't it? She isn't someone important like a Talon or the scion of an established Crow family. She certainly isn't Caterina Dellamorte, who warrants something verging on a State Funeral.

If she died, there is still a non-zero chance it would be at another Crow's hands, in which case it's anyone's guess what happens after.

If she dies honorably fulfilling a contract, then Viago might feel obligated to do something if he isn't pissed off at her failure and she's isn't still in Exile. He's her mentor, so probably he would manage at least a small pyre. Maybe even a flower or two for the flames if he's letting himself feel sentimental. Teia would probably be there because Viago was.

But just as often, when a contract goes wrong, there's no time to go back for the body. The mark get ahold of it, or whoever's left on the contract has to focus on survival rather than the dignity of a corpse that can't feel any of it.

But really, none of that would matter to Arsinoë, would it? She'd be off wherever dead souls end up going, or maybe in oblivion, who knows. She doesn't have any family to be horrified by her corpse unless you count Viago, who is Fifth Talon, has bigger things to worry about, and will get over it.

But anyway, why do you ask, Emmrich?

Emmrich is too aghast to answer clearly at that point because every single point of Arsinoë's answer goes so deeply against everything that is ingrained in him as part of the Mourn Watch, from the belief that a corpse just doesn't matter to her sincere belief that no one would care enough about her for any particular mourning rights.

And the thing is Emmrich does care. It's his professional duty to care, but he's also become fond of his young friend and he cannot handle imagining that she could die on this mission or the next and potentially receive no rites at all.

Cue Emmrich starting to plan how he's going to have Rook interred in the Grand Necropolis when the time comes. It may involve some string pulling, especially if (hopefully) she dies not on this mission but in the distant future, and even more so if he precedes her and has to leave the job in one of his colleague's hands. But Maker help him, there will be a plan and her death will be respected.

When it comes to light, Neve is uncertain and a little weirded out, but also a little offended by all this. She's fallen in love with Rook, but even before that, the respect between them would have warranted a pyre and Arsinoë's name on the Wall of Light if there was no one else to arrange things. Is this why she's never asked about what happened after Varric-

Lucanis is horrified by the idea of Arsinoë as one of the spirit-possessed skeletons in the Necropolis or one of the jewel-eyed skulls in its many niches; he snaps at Emmrich about Nevarran obsession and respecting Rook as Antivan.

Emmrich refuses to budge. She expected the Crows to do nothing for her. She deserves better, deserves to be remembered, even if she isn't Nevarran.

Lucanis seems fully stunned by the idea that Rook believed this in the first place, given Viago's attachment. Given Lucanis's own growing feelings. Emmrich does soften a little bit when he sees that Lucanis truly didn't realize, but he also doesn't fully divert his plans.

Gathering a grave-dowry is normally left to a lover or family member if the deceased was themselves unable, and Emmrich is neither. But needs must, and though his friend now seems attached to Neve and Lucanis, hearts can be fickle. A plan is better. So he puts away small things here or there, eyes which of Rook's enchanted rings and amulets she seems to favor just in case.

It almost helps him live with the knowledge that Arsinoë believed she would die unmourned. Almost.

[hoshiina]

pairing: hoshina soushirou x gn!reader (no prns)

request: can i pretty please request a drabble where gen has a sibling and that said sibling and hoshina are dating? even better if gen's sibling is an officer/troop leader in the first division and partakes in the rivalry between the third and first division but outside of everyone's view— gen's sibling and hoshina are terribly lovey dovey!

warnings: reader wears short shorts in a scene

wc: 1200

This was not something that started today. Rather, it had been this way for as long as anyone could remember.

From the moment you had joined the 1st Division, you had always been bickering with Hoshina— just like your brother. It was plain as day you were none other than the younger sibling of Narumi Gen. Although you lacked the power and passion for fame that Gen had, you weren't any less competitive than him.

However, unlike your brother, you were better at neutralizing smaller size Kaiju than him— naturally making you more competitive with Hoshina. While you were incredible at what you did, you seemed to fall just a step behind of Hoshina most of the time. You were insanely good, but Hoshina was just a little better. You had beaten him just once in the neutralization test of smaller sized kaiju, and you just couldn't seem to do it again.

This was well known among most of the first and third division, and they did enjoy your playful banter that arose even in the toughest of times. It wasn't always easy to keep the mood bright when things got difficult, but the two of you would never fail to do so. They hoped this would never change and your rivalry would never fade.

However, there were things that had changed that no one really knew of. The two of you had started dating a year ago, and you were madly in love. It was your little secret. Well, your little secret that Gen accidentally found out about.

Neither of you had told Gen about this and quite frankly, the two of you were planning to keep hiding this from him if it were possible. It wasn't new that he despised Hoshina quite a bit, and he was extremely weary of the people you meet, especially men. Naturally, to find out that Hoshina was your boyfriend wouldn't exactly be celebratory news for him. Not to mention that Gen was loud when he had complaints. You knew he absolutely would not shut up about it. So it really wasn't the plan when he had found out.

You were in your room lazing around in a baggy shirt, specifically Hoshina’s shirt, which covered your short-shorts while Hoshina was in your kitchen cooking something quick. Until you got a shared place, this happened rather often. It was either him in your room or yourself in his room. However, a lot of your stuff had found a place in his unit and vice versa, so it was very easy for you to visit each other whenever. A little too easy, perhaps.

“Hoshina, you don't have to make anything fancy,” you said. “Anything’s fine. You had a long day too.”

“I'm literally making us ochazuke. It couldn't be easier—” he was starting to say when the door swung open.

“Guess who's here!” Gen had yelled while walking into your place.

Immediately you looked back at Hoshina in the kitchen and gave up. “Oh gosh,” you said.

“What did I say about ringing the doorbell?!” you yelled back at him.

“And what did I say about locking the door?!” he exclaimed back.

“I thought I did—” you started to yell, but then you remembered you had forgotten to lock the door after Hoshina came in, hands full of groceries to stuff your empty fridge. You were a little too thrilled to see him. “My bad.”

You knew Hoshina was going to scold you later— he's been telling you to be more careful about locking up properly.

Gen saw the extra pair of shoes by your doorway and immediately met eyes with Hoshina in your kitchen.

“Why the hell are you here?!” he yelled.

“Oh, can you please be quiet,” you said. “He's visiting.”

“Why, hello! That would be me!” Hoshina said, greeting Gen properly now that it's come down to this.

“Why is he visiting you, in your room, alone, with you dressed like that?” Gen continued to ask. He wasn't understanding nor did it seem like he wanted to.

You let out a sigh, you didn't mean to, but there was no getting around this one. “What's wrong with having my boyfriend in my room,” you said.

“Your boyfriend? Hoshina?” Gen said, horrified. He didn't think matters could get worse, yet here he was. “Why him?”

“Oh, why not him?” you asked. “He's the best I could ever wish for.”

Hoshina didn’t expect that— especially not to your brother, just like that. His eyes widened as his heart tightened. Oh, how he absolutely adored you. You said it so naturally, as if merely stating a fact. To you, that really was all it was though.

Gen had a lot more to say and complain about while staying far too long, long enough to steal some ochazuke for dinner (which he also managed to complain about) before you were finally able to kick him out. Yet, through all of that, Hoshina couldn't be happier to be with you, bickering away as you ate a 5 minute meal at a small make-shift dining table.

As soon as Gen finally left, you spread your arms out in front of you, asking for a hug, which Hoshina promptly returned.

“He's finally gone…” you said, relieved it was finally just the two of you.

“Not sure he liked me much,” Hoshina said with a smile and you rolled your eyes.

“Like we didn't already know,” you said. “I really didn't plan for him to barge in like that.”

“I have to admit, I do enjoy watching you two bicker though. My brother and I are not nearly as close,” Hoshina said and you rolled your eyes again when he said ‘close’. You wouldn't ever explain your relationship as ‘close’. “However, you ought to make a habit of locking your door. What if that wasn't your brother and I wasn't here.”

“Yes,” you said, quietly but clearly— but avoiding eye contact. “I will.”

“Thank you for saying that earlier,” he said, turning your head to face his. “To this day I don't know what made you choose me.”

You immediately realized what he was talking about.

“Oh, please,” you said. “Be serious. I am the luckiest person alive by your side.”

He kissed you and you kissed back, but he truly wouldn't let you go. You started hitting his arm, hoping he would let go so you could catch your breath. After what felt like the longest moments ever he finally let you pull back, letting you breathe.

“Soushirou, I can't breathe!” you said, trying to sound irritated, but your tone lacked the edge you were hoping for.

He completely ignored you, however, and pulled you back into a tight embrace.

“I wish we could stay like this forever,” he said. “Just you and me.”

“In this small place?” you said, laughing a little.

“Absolutely wherever,” he said. “As long as you're here with me.”

[toast-on-dandelioms]

__Just Another Neglected Story__

Years passed and you were now 16, almost mute but with a few friends from school, the only place where no one knew you were a Wayne since you refused to take his surname.

This is the part 2 of this

You wanted your mother's surname, you refused to let go of that small part that you still had of her. You refused to let go of that and be replaced by a surname from a person that hated you.

You still had some dignity.

You were happy, you finally had your small place where no one could ruin it and you didn't even care that your supposed family didn't even know who you were.

But everything changed when you went to that damn interview to a scientist lab in a big corporation, you needed money for yourself and knowledge to better your inventions and the corporation you went to was better than any Wayne industry.

You were accepted obviously and after a few months you were on a good position as a part timer and helped with experiments with rats and spiders.

What those experiments were? You didn't know and honestly from what you saw when you were allowed to spectate an experiment in process, the animals almost never died and if they did then they would be honored with a small photo on a wall, to thank them for their help.

You were taking a few subjects to their enclosures and while letting a spider inside its little cage, the little legs of it running down your hand and making you shiver a bit but you did a mistake that all your superiors told uou to never make.

You accidentally moved while trying not to drop another animal that was on the table since it kept moving closer to the edge, scaring the spider and making you get bit by it in the process, the sting of the bite making you almost fall down but not before putting the spider in its cage and closing it.

Then you allowed yourself to fall down and hold the injured hand on the chest as you held back the tears by biting your lips and repeating a mantra you had so that you wouldn't seem weak.

You stayed on the ground for a few minutes, waiting for the sting on your hand to stop hurting so much.

You did notice the spider was a venomous one but that only paralyzed the prey making you scared, not wanting to be found paralyzed and get fired after making a stupid mistake.

You kept on reading the file and thanked whatever god was out there that the venom wasn't strong enough to paralyze a human but just making them a bit dizzy, explaining why you felt so dizzy like you drank five bottles of beer.

You finally got up after the bite stopped stinging and pulsing, making you wobble a bit and check the reports about the spider but it didn't said anything about any experiments made on the animal but you were a bit suspicious about it.

You went to the small lab you shared with a few other interns, starting a few tests on yourself to make sure you wouldn't die or have something horrible happen to your body because of some weird mutation.

You checked every test you ran on yourself, making sure to not have missed anything but it didn't showed any changes so you decided to wait until the new day to see if it was a delayed response from the bite.

You decided to go back to the Manor since it's been days and you couldn't sleep at another friend house again, not wanting to bother them with your 'family' problems.

You managed to get there safely enough by taking the bus, entering silently by the front door and just passing by the kitchen while ignoring the loud noises from the dining hall, knowing that they're probably celebrating something and didn't even try to invite you.

You finally arrive to your room, smiling softly at the plate on your desk filled with food and silently thanking Alfred in your mind since you just realised you didn't eat much that day.

You quickly sit down and eat everything with a big smile, making sure to clean the plate and leaving it on a table next to your door outside of your room to thank Alfred, not wanting to do the trip to the kitchen and risk being seen and seeing all of them look at you with confusion as to why you were there.

Like they didn't even remember that you lived there and were surprised that you were there. You hated whenever they looked at you like that.

You finally plop down in bed, face first and fall asleep in a few seconds, not even bothering to change or take a shower since you were exhausted.

You woke up the next day and as you got up you noticed that something changed in your body.

Not something noticeable like a new set of eyes or a new pair of arms like Stitch from Lilo and Stitch, but you felt more flexible.

Like, you were already pretty good at moving your body thanks to the dance lessons you used to take but now you could move your body in positions you never thought were possible.

Your eyesight was also incredibly better and more enhanced, like you could see from pretty far away without having to squint to see it.

You immediately thought of the spider and its bite so you checked the wound but there was nothing, just two small moles (the small black spots) where the bite was supposed to be.

You quickly went to school, deciding to do a few more tests when you would get to the lab to make sure you didn't have anything dangerous in your body.

The day seemed more slow than usual, making you skip school just after an hour in there and quickly go to the corporation you worked at, using the excuse that school was closed because of a sudden villain attack.

No one even questioned it, they just let you in and went on with their day, not even bothering to check since you were in Gotham so that was normal.

You quickly walked to your lab, immediately starting a few more tests on yourself and sighing in defeat when all the results were the same.

Your blood was mixed with the spider on and you were now half spider. You sighed and worked before clocking in early, slowly going to an abandoned park to check what you now had to just learn to live with it.

You ran a few tests on the field, wanting to see what you now had with the DNA of the spider in your body.

You already checked the sight and flexible factor in a small notebook, adding super strenght, weirdly precise reflexes that also helped you when you were in danger.

You just now needed to see if you could walk on walls like spiders, really hoping you could since you wanted to see how that felt like.

You walked up to a deserted building and took off your shoes and socks before setting one foot on the wall, noticing that you couldn't really take it off.

You tried with the other foot and now you were standing sideways on the wall, making you laugh in glee since it was so freaking cool.

You quickly ran around the building walls before getting to the roof and sitting down on the edge since you were tired.

You thought to yourself to just live with these newfound powers, if you can call them that but then noticed many people walking around and being scared.

You noticed how, even though Batman and everyone else kept the streets clean from super villains, small time thieves and other bad people still ran around even after being caught and brought to jail.

You knew you weren't strong enough before but you now had a small advantage over them and decided to help people, make the streets a bit cleaner.

You would never go and fight big villains but small ones were easy so you quickly went to the manor to start your training, wanting to help others.

You first started by creating the costume, making sure to hide your face pretty well since you refused to let anyone know who you were, even though you were a nobody that not even the media knew about.

You then started to create your own vigilante, giving yourself the name of 'Spider', like the hero Spider-Man from the comics you used to read.

Hey, you got bit by a spider and decided to follow that theme, no judgement on that.

You created the web fuel and used a grappling hook that was lying around to create a web shooter, making sure to make it hidden on your wrists.

Then you started to train in the abandoned park that no one ever walked by, using the trees around it and the buildings as a way to learn how to swing around.

You also learned how to fight by spying your "family", recording how they fought and their weak and strong points to also learn from it.

In 2 months you officially became 'Spider', the new spider vigilante that helped the people from small thieves so no one had to be scared to walk on the streets.

You also used a taser if you couldn't fight against someone stronger and you didn't want to kill them with your super strenght, and the taser was the best move.

You didn't even notice but you started to become famous amongst the city, especially after helping a bus from falling off a brige and stopping a well known rapist after the police did nothing.

You just kept going, happy to help and thinking no one even noticed, not noticing that your "family" also started to notice the new vigilante and was starting to ask questions about who it was behind the mask.

But their curiosity may never be satisfied.

Tag List

@victoria1676 @cattioo @gaozorous-rex-blog @mylittlediarys-stuff @simpingfor-wakasa @mamapucket

[yandere-sins]

Lingyang or Jiyan accidently releasing a more animalistic side when yn is threatened and needing help to calm down

I wanted to do something for both of them but this idea just shot in my mind and I couldn't get rid of it, so just Jiyan and I accidentally jumped over the comfort part (feel free to re-request if you want to see that kind of scenario, I do have an idea for it, but I was hit hard with a lot of inspiration for this kind of story, sorry!), but I totally agree with your thought here!

[Warning: Yandere, Kidnapping, Attempted non-con by intruders, Violence (Murder, Mention of blood and separated body parts, Description of monster traits, Stabbing someone), Depiction of shock and paranoia]

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

In all the time you were stuck with your captor, you never noticed just how beastial he truly was.

Jiyan was a lot of things. He was kind, friendly, and reliable. People flocked to him to admire the general, wanting to stand next to him for just a moment to bask in the glory he radiated. When he stood there, relaxed and with a faint smile, everyone felt safe, their worries simply washing away. You, too, had been blinded by the false sense of relief his presence promised, approaching him without a second of hesitation and without a spark of fear even when his eyes snapped to you, widening in inexplicable yearning. You let yourself be charmed by him, whisked away with the promise of togetherness, a once off chance to be with him. And you'd come to regret your decision to take his hand, to allow him to lure you into his 'monster den' even though you should have seen the danger signs.

Love at first sight, he called it as he pinned you to his couch. You didn't fight him—couldn't fight him. The pain of his fingers digging into your skin was enough to make you go rigid; how could you have fought someone as strong as him? He spoke of devotion and adoration even when he kissed you against your will. When he pulled you with him towards a secret elevator, he still assured you that this was for your best.

And even when he forced the bitter-tasting potion down your throat that made you drowsy and defenseless, he swore nothing would ever happen to you. Jiyan promised you'd be safe and protected as he caught you in his eyes while you lost your conscience. But that was a lie—everything was.

Jiyan was a lot of things, but he wasn't kind. A kind person wouldn't kidnap someone and force them to live isolated from the rest of society, no matter how much you pleaded and begged. He wasn't friendly either because when you fought him, he fought back. So many days were wasted in fear, screaming matches and hiding from him. So many times he'd force you to be with him, be held by him, let him love you. A nice person wouldn't do that. A friendly person wouldn't have hurt you this way.

But most of all, he wasn't reliable.

Because even when he swore up and down that you'd be safe in this underground prison, that he'd protect you from all that his twisted mind imagined would harm you outside this cage he had decorated for you, chained you up in, and confined you to a lifetime in solitude, even then some burglars managed to find you.

Jiyan's changes in his heart were terrifying.

But to be at some random strangers' mercy was even worse.

You thought they might help. That you could finally be freed. But when the intruders started to smile and leer at you, who was vulnerable and unable to run from them, all hope vanished. You screamed and cried, knowing there was no one who could hear you. Like so many times before with Jiyan, no one knew your whereabouts and this prison was supposed to be safe from outside and inside threats. You tried to fight them, begging them to stop like so many times before with Jiyan, but they wouldn't. In your fear and panic, you wished for the general to save you, even though you knew he wouldn't make it in time.

So, although unwelcome, the surprise was huge when, instead of having the hands of two unknown strangers rake all over your body, you felt their disgustingly warm blood soak into your ripped clothes. You couldn't look away from the slitted, brilliant eyes of Jiyan that seemed to burn with the fire of a dragon, furious and raging. And when you did snap out of it, you closed your eyes quickly to avoid looking at the severed heads and gruesome looks of death on the intruders' faces.

You didn't look up when you heard their body parts fall to the ground with squelching sounds, the warm blood soaking everything. You didn't even open your eyes when you felt Jiyan's uncomfortably familiar arms wrap around you. You sobbed silently into his shoulder as he lifted you up, reeking of blood and death, because you were too afraid to make a sound.

Because what stood before you, cradling you against his chest and holding you as you cried was no man—but a monster. A beast much like the Tacet Discords that haunted the lives of all citizens of Jinzhou. His hold might have been meant to be a comfort, but his arms were rigid with terror, and he held his breath ever so often as he kept hyperventilating in anger. But holding you, even he seemed to calm down, his face rubbing against your head and his chest rumbling with a purr. If not for your presence, you were sure he'd have turned into a terrifying beast, mauling these intruders for whom you held no sympathy. Gnawed at their bones, destroyed every last inch of their bodies, and swallowed them whole.

Just like he wanted to do with you.

You remained still even if you wanted to fight for your life at that moment. You waited for Jiyan to put you down, wipe the sweat-soaked hair out of your face, and place an apologetic, desperate kiss on your forehead before he turned away, muttering, "I'm sorry."

"I should have never left you. I'm sorry you had to go through that; please forgive me."

He was sorry for what happened, maybe even for scaring you with the reveal of his true self.

But that monster wasn't sorry for keeping you locked here, especially now with the death of two people hanging over your head like a sword ready to strike. Cursing this place for all eternity, and haunting the nightmares you'd undoubtedly experience from now on.

You knew you had to be first.

If you didn't, that monster would kill you too, ruthlessly and cold. Brutal and heartless.

Jiyan had already proven that he couldn't be trusted. That he wasn't kind, wasn't friendly, and wasn't reliable in any way. And now that he had to lick off the blood from his deformed hands, who was going to say you wouldn't be the next victim that this beast could devour?

There was something almost therapeutic about pulling the long, elegant hairpin from where he put it that morning and lunging forward to stab it between his ribs. You could feel his heart beat against the metal as the beast cried out in pain. Perhaps betrayal, too.

This time, you looked at him as he gave you the treacherous eyes of a puppy. When he grabbed the pin, holding it in place, you watched as blood dripped from the wound, mixing with the red puddles on the ground. His words were stricken with grief over your betrayal when he asked you, "Why?" and when you looked into his eyes, he suddenly didn't appear so monstrous anymore. He looked like a wounded man. One you came to know quite well, albeit unwillingly.

But you.

The way you stared at him unblinking, your reflection so clear and miserable in his eyes... your skin had paled from the horrors you experienced, the wrinkles deeply etched into your face like that of a haggard witch. You lost weight from refusing to eat and were clothed in garments you could have never afforded by yourself. You stabbed him without thinking twice. You didn't seem like yourself anymore. You didn't even feel human.

Perhaps Jiyan wasn't the man anyone thought him to be, but even so, even a beast like him could still love you at your lowest. Still care for and save you when it seemed impossible. Still apologize for his mistakes, exactly like a human would.

And you thought to yourself that maybe, watching as he went to patch himself up, preparing to forgive you once again for acting out as he had to pull the hairpin he gifted you out of his ribs,

maybe you had become the monster instead.

[shewrites444]

one time thing [ art donaldson x patrick's sister! reader smut ]

wc - 5.4k

[ summary - patrick and tashi have been together for a few months now, and art's been a bit jealous. he's in need of a distraction, and given that you're getting over a recent breakup while also preparing to transfer to stanford, you do, too. only issue is how patrick is your older brother, but it's not like that's stopped you and art before. ]

[ warnings - brother's best friend trope, little bit of fluff, dirty talk, oral (m&f), unprotected sex ]

❀⋆˚✿˖° 𐙚 ₊ ⊹ ♡𓊆ྀི❤︎𓊇ྀི

"it's nice to see you lit up about something, even if that something is my girlfriend."

art cringed at patrick's words, knowing his best friend was right, but he denied it, even though it was bluntly obvious to anyone and everyone who knew how he felt about tashi duncan.

he shook his head, glancing down at the table. "patrick, you know i would never do anything to jeopardize your relationship, or our friendship. i'm happy for you, i really am."

all patrick could do was laugh, giving art a cheekish grin before taking a sip of his coke. he set it down on the cafeteria table before looking back to his friend. "hmm. you gonna come with us to her parent's fundraiser tonight for the tournament tonight? she's letting us bring guests... so, you could always bring a little someone?"

"patrick." art rolled his blue eyes, shaking his head in disbelief with a half-smile. "as if. the only thing i'm focused on is tennis. but yeah, the plan was to come, as long as you two don't make me the hate my life as the third wheel."

"we would never." patrick leans back into his chair. "why don't you try.. i don't know, you could try talking to [ y/n ]." he shrugs.

art stops for a moment, blinking as he registers his friend's words. he's got to hide the red on his cheeks, which is a bit hard to do with his paler skin. he looks down from the floor back up to patrick. "are you prostituting your own sister to me, patrick?"

you were patrick's younger sister, only by about a year, and also happened to be enrolling in stanford as a transfer student for the upcoming semester. you weren't there for tennis like art and tashi, rather a pretty good academic scholarship for computer science. art liked that about you, the fact that you had more to you than sports (sports wasn't a bad thing, just different), and that you had goals other than the ones he, patrick, and tashi had. but he hadn't talked to you in about a year, so it had been a minute since he had even seen you. yeah, you two had each other on social media, but neither of you were that active.

"what? no." patrick smirks, clearly indicating otherwise. "i mean, she thinks you're cute, i guess. i can tell. and she'll be there since tashi's letting me bring my family, so you could always just flirt with her, i don't know. something to spice up your night? who knows, maybe you could fu-"

"you're - you're gross." art nudged patrick, an awkward laugh leaving with his words. "[ y/n ] and i wouldn't have anything to talk about anyway besides you and stanford, and she's not even going into the same program as me. and she's your sister, for one, so i'd prefer to not talk to her about you the entire time. weird conversation starter, don't you think?"

patrick leaned closer, holding his coke loosely and taking a sip, before tapping it quickly against art's lips. "not like you haven't accidentally kissed your dear friend before, art. wouldn't be weird to kiss anyone else in my bloodline."

"again, gross." art's cheeks tinted a light pink at that memory for a year or so ago of the two of them with tashi, before he stood up, slinging his bookbag across his shoulder. "enough of that. i'll see you tonight."

"m'kay." patrick nudged art with the bottom of his shoe as he stood up. "see you tonight. text me when you get there."

art left the cafeteria, looking down at his white, court-scuffed sneakers as he walked down the sidewalk. he was in trouble. he wasn't even thinking about tashi and patrick now. that jealousy subsided for the moment.

yeah, he hadn't talked to you in awhile, but it's not like you didn't have a history patrick didn't know about. i mean, you fucked like, what, right before he went to stanford?

there was never anything between the two of you. art would give you a simple 'hey' when he went to see patrick at your parents' house, but that was really it. except when patrick went to hook up with some girl in the middle of the night, and art was in the kitchen getting some snacks at 2 am, high off a bong him and patrick had been hitting for way too long, and you walked in there in nothing a but baggy t-shirt, also extremely high on your own accord, thinking no one else was around, and well... one thing led to another. whoops.

he didn't regret it, and neither did you, but there was an unspoken agreement to never tell patrick because regardless of how much he'd give you two shit for it, inside, he'd probably be extremely pissed off. it was a one time thing, but he wouldn't get that, no matter what the present matter was now.

impulsively, in the midst of stress, art dug into his jean pocket to pull his phone out. he pulled up your number, his pink lips pressed together as he debated what to do. should he text you and give you some sort of heads up? he wasn't going to leave you to the wrath of your own brother, so he started to type. he didn't even know what he was saying, but he had to say something, right?

hey, patrick said you'd be at the fundraiser tonight. i don't think he knows about last year, but he was making jokes with me about hitting on you. so i guess just, be cool tonight.

you were in your hotel room unpacking your suitcase when your phone pinged. luckily, given that your only sibling was patrick and he was staying with tashi, you had a room to yourself, as did your parents. you were glad for that too - you'd be able to focus on everything stanford this weekend to prepare for next semester. art didn't even really cross your mind until you saw his name pop up on your screen for the first time in months.

your brows furrow as you lean down to pick your phone up off the side of the bed. you open the text, your eyes widening a bit. there was no way patrick knew. like, actually no way, so you weren't concerned about that. it was just the idea that he was making jokes about you talking to art that kind of threw you off. why would he say that?

hey. i don't know why he'd say that - no way he knows, he's just fucking with you, so what's new lol. i'll see you tonight, i'm sure it'll be fine.

"great." you mutter to yourself, before setting your phone back down once you saw his immediate 'thumbs up' reaction to your message.

you were both high when you fucked, but you still remembered it. it's not like you didn't know what you were doing, both of you knew exactly what was going on. awkward small talk that led into you stepping closer to art, art stepping closer to you, you making the first move to kiss him, and well... yeah. you remembered well.

you thought art was hot too, obviously, and it was fun, but you never thought you'd have to even think about that again. i mean, yeah, you'd see him again probably at patrick's wedding (if he ever got married), or maybe at one of their matches, but that was really it.

you had been with someone for the past few months anyway, and that was your main focus, at least romantically, but he went away to college, and you both agreed it was best to just, move on, and go in different directions. and it was, because you were sad for a little, of course, but you wisely focused your attention towards school and work. never thought you'd be texting art donaldson for the first time in months right now.

"focus." you said to yourself, averting your attention back to the half-unpacked suitcase before you.

a few hours had passed and you were getting out of the uber with your parents to walk into the banquet room that the fundraiser was being held in, until you were directed to go outside for the social portion of the event before dinner. it was evident the duncans were like, insanely rich, probably from the amount of funding they got from their daughter since she committed to stanford, so i guess that was good on your brother.

you looked around for patrick, knowing that he was already there with tashi. you spotted them standing at a pub table talking to none other than art. of course, you looked back for your parents, but they were already off at the bar waiting for alcohol. shocker.

"[ y/n ]!" you could hear patrick yell your name, waving over to you. he gestured for you to come towards them.

you sigh, plastering a fake, obviously anxious smile across your face as you wave in return, walking towards the three of them. tashi smiled at you, and walked towards you first to introduce herself. you could see art in the corner of your eye, hands in his pockets, while he glanced more towards the floor. way to play it cool, art.

"hi! you're [ y/n ] - i'm tashi." she pulled you into a gentle hug. she was way taller than you, about the same height as your brother. you returned her hug, giving her a soft smile, as welcoming as you could be to your brother's only girlfriend that he had been with for more than a month.

"hey. it's nice to meet you, tashi." you nod, looking up to her as you step apart. you glance to patrick, then to art. you give him a short casual, wave. "hey, art."

art takes a sip of his beer. "[ y/n ]. good to see you."

"you too." you say shortly. patrick furrows his brows, looking between the two of you, before shaking his head.

patrick reaches forward to take tashi's hand. "let's go say hi to my parents. they wouldn't shut the hell about meeting you over the phone this morning." tashi nods, before giving you and art both a wave. "yeah, for sure. see you guys in a bit."

patrick and tashi walk off, before it's now art and you standing at the table alone. you can barely even hear the music around you with how much you were thinking about the situation at hand. you hadn't seen art in person in what felt like forever.

you would be lying to yourself if you didn’t think he looked good. better than good, actually. he was much more toned, you could tell with the way his muscles were tight, but not too tight, against his light blue polo. you could see it in his jawline, his legs, his chest... damn, he looked good. you'd never dispute that.

"so, has he said anything to you?" you break the silence, maintaining your distance.

art shook his head. "no. he's been more focused on tashi meeting your parents. you?"

"of course not." you sigh. you reach to the table next to the two of you and take one of the drinks from a serving tray. "he's distracted. i really don't think he's aware of anything, art. plus, that was like a year ago, it's not like either of us think about it either. i mean, i can barely remember it."

art wouldn't say that he was hurt by your remark, but it didn't feel too good. you didn't remember it? yes, you were both under some sort of influence, but he knew he fucked you good, and he didn't remember you not being aware of that.

"you don't remember it?" he asks, tilting his head in confusion.

you blink. you look up to him, the drink in your hands as you stand straight. you clear your throat. "uh, i mean, isn't it best to just.. act like it didn't happen? not like it keeps us up at night, so why would it be relevant? it was a one time thing."

art couldn’t help but frown, gently shrugging his shoulders as he look up at the marble ceiling. "well, i mean, it happened, so it's weirder to act like it didn't, you know."

"…okay." you trail your words, nodding as you notice him looking away. "so.. so you'd rather acknowledge it?"

his eyes went from the ceiling to you. “i can pretend like it didn’t happen if that’s what you want.”

god, he sounded so disappointed. you could hear it in his voice. he got quieter, and his hands would fidget in his pockets, struggling to express the way he felt to you in fear of stirring up any sort of tension, worse than the amount that was already in the room.

you take a sip from the drink in your hands. it was strong. you wince, setting the glass down on the table.

"no, that's... that's not what i mean." you wanted to crawl into a hole and never come out. your goal wasn't to make him feel like shit, just to be more casual about it. "i don't want you to think i didn't have a good time, i just.. just don't want to think about something that wouldn't happen again, you know."

art's brow raised. a smile creaked at the corner of his mouth. he leaned against the pub table, and glanced up to you. "do you want it to happen again, [ y/n ]?"

your eyes go wide, and you can feel the blush crawling onto your skin. you chew on the side of your cheek for a moment, and avoid eye contact by staring at the table.

"that's... that's a big question, art." you laugh to relieve your own inner tension, grabbing the glass that you had previously set down and taking another sip. maybe you need something strong for this conversation. "it's been awhile, and i mean, we weren't even sober when it happened. so, it's hard to answer that, i guess."

art hadn't thought much about it the past year either, if he was being honest with you. he'd been so wrapped up in tashi and patrick, and tennis, and school, that there wasn't even any room to think about you, or any other women, for that matter. but now that you were right in front of him, he wouldn't pretend that he wasn't thinking about it now.

the opportunity could potentially present itself, if you two were careful. he could fuck you in your hotel room tonight if you wanted him to, or, if you were antsy enough, he would gladly let you ride his dick on that table in the separate dining room that the duncan's weren't using tonight he noticed on his way in.

art was an understanding guy though, so it's not like he didn't consider how you felt in this situation. if you didn't want him to even lay a finger on you for whatever reason, that was fine, too. but if you did want that, god, he'd gladly do so.

he doesn't answer your words from beforehand. he got lost in his train of thought, so instead, he figured he'd have to take some sort of initiative. he wasn't the most dominant man out there, but if you were to want this, you seemed to prefer him doing all the work.

"do you want to go inside?" he asked quietly. the indication was there. you felt a pit in your stomach starting to form.

so, you nod. “yeah.” you answer in the same quiet tone of voice. you brush your hair out of your face to rest behind your ears, before turning yourself towards the banquet room.

you looked around for your brother and tashi, noticing they were standing with your parents more towards the front of the large room. you look back to art as he followed behind you.

“fuck it.” you look up to him, and you shrug, attempting to loosen up. “just follow me.”

art bites his bottom lip, and nods. “mhm.” he sighs. “lead the way. fuck it.”

what the fuck were you doing? you’re in a public place. you’re about to fuck your brother’s best friend, again. you thought you were sick - damn, good thing you didn't know what art did behind closed doors with your brother and his girlfriend.

whatever. maybe this would be a good way for you to get over your breakup (even though you were already over it, you just needed an excuse). maybe it would be a good distraction for art, too, god knows he’s been so buried in tennis this past semester he probably couldn’t focus on anything else.

you wouldn’t lie, you were nervous. when you hooked up, all you did was slide your panties to the side, and you kept your shirt on. and he fucked you from the back, so it was a hook up-hook up. no vulnerability there, so it’s not like he saw you for you.

tonight, you felt it in your gut that he'd see all of you. you'd see all of him. and you weren't high, barely even buzzed from your few sips of your drink earlier, so you'd be sober. fuck. you could be sick right now.

"do you know where you're going?" art laughed to himself. were you so nervous that you didn't even know where you were taking him to? he really has to do all the work, even when it comes to location.

art thought about it. you were a sweet girl, really, and he wasn't the type of guy to try and level you down to someone you weren't. yeah, he could gesture the two of you fuck there in somewhere private, despite it being a public event, but he'd like to think you were both above that, at least tonight.

part of him wanted patrick to know he'd be fucking you, but another part of him knew you didn't deserve to be put in the middle of that. he wouldn't do that to you.

"hey." he gently placed his hand on your shoulder, his fingers warm against your cold, exposed skin. "i'm gonna get an uber. we can go back to your hotel. would you prefer that?"

you think for a moment, and nod. "yeah. that.. that sounds good. thanks."

art nods, and with your permission, he takes his phone out of his back pocket and after a few seconds of scrolling and tapping pretty hastily, he orders an uber to the venue. mostly everyone was inside, and everyone was distracted. patrick and tashi were both so focused on your parents, and they were so focused on them, you wouldn't be missed. neither of you.

the ride to your hotel was quiet, both of you sitting in the backseat of the car, both of you refusing to look at each other, looking out the different windows on each side. luckily, it was quick. your hotel was only about a ten minute drive, so you didn't have that much time to think.

"thanks." art broke the silence by opening the car door, handing the driver a $10 bill before gesturing for you to come through his side.

you slide over, and you run your hands down the front of your dress to brush off any light wrinkles that formed on the drive. you clear your throat, looking up to art and then the hotel, before you turn to walk in.

"sorry if my room is a bit of a mess." you mutter, walking through the lobby towards the elevator. "i got here only a few hours before the event."

art smiled down at you as you stepped into the elevator, watching you click your floor's button. he brushed some of his curls off his forehead and shrugged. "as long as you aren't as messy as your brother, it's no problem."

you scoff, rolling your eyes and nudging him. "if there is any rules for whatever the fuck is going on, one of them is to not mention my brother, art."

he snickered, walking through the now opened doors with you towards the hallway. "fine. only because it's a rule now, i guess."

you grinned, the mood shifting from the initial nervousness and awkward atmosphere to a now lightened feeling. you remembered that you and art could joke around, too, and this wasn't some stranger to you. you had known him since you were kids, it wasn't that big of a deal. no need to be so up-tight.

"here." you say, stopping as you fumbled through your purse to grab the room key, holding it against the pad as the door made a short 'click' noise. you push it forward, and set your purse on the little kitchen nook right as you stepped inside. art followed closely behind you.

his hands slowly trailed along your waist, fingertips dancing against your stomach and thumbs pressed against you outer back. you froze, cheeks burning almost in an instinct while he leaned down, gently pressing a kiss on the side of your neck as his noise pushed some of your hair out of the way.

"is this okay?" he asked softly, his hot breath against your neck.

"yes."

art pressed another kiss against your neck, but this time, he let his tongue come forward, too, gently tracing coats of saliva with each kiss. you could feel his cock hardening, pressing against your lower back while he stood behind you.

you closed your eyes, a small moan escaping from your lips. you take one of his hands off your waist and lead it to the bottom of your dress. he takes note of this, and he slides his hand in between your legs, bunching up the middle of the material as he moved his fingers to your thong, pushing it to the side.

you lean forward, gasping as his cold fingers move to your slit, and he could already feel how turned on you were. you could feel him smile against your lips. he pushed two of his fingers against your clit, lightly beginning to rub. your eyes are shut, and you're already so fucking wet. it's almost pathetic.

"oh, fuck." you hiss, one of your hands pressed against the kitchen counter. "you've gotta slow down, art."

he sped his movements up. he felt your body jolt as his touch pressed harder, too. "get on the bed, [ y/n ]." he pulls away.

you gasp softly, and glance to him from behind. you walk towards the bed, where he follows. you stand before him and you glance to the tent in his khakis.

"no." you blush, but a confident grin slowly wrinkles onto the sides of your lips. "you get on the bed."

art chuckles, holding his hands up in the air before he scoots past you to lay on the bed. he sits down, propping his body up by his elbows as he watches you lean down before him.

you begin to unzip his pants, and slide them off him and off his ankles. you reach forward again, gulping while you take the waistband of his boxers into your hands, before you slide those down, too. his cock points up at the ceiling, long and so fucking hard for you. you had felt in before, yes, but you had never seen it until now.

you stand up to take your dress off, where he follows by taking his shirt off. you both strip, and both toss your clothes to the floor. you stand in nothing but your thong, given that your dress had some sort of built in bra. you were so fucking nervous, but you weren't even focusing on that right now.

you lean back down, reaching forward to take his cock into one of your hands, before you lean up, collecting spit into your mouth. before you can suck his cock, art stops you.

"wait."

you look up to him, your eyes wide. "i-is everything okay? did i make you uncomf-"

"no." art shakes his head, his eyebrows raising at your misunderstanding. "no, not at all. i... i wanted you to get on the bed, too.. i.. i want to eat your pussy, [ y/n ]. maybe we can both.. do it at the same time?"

you thought your eyes couldn't get bigger until his suggestion. you take your hand off him, and slowly rise up. "y-yeah. we can do that."

you crawl onto the bed, slowly turning your body to where your pussy is right in front of him, your folds on display before his mouth. his cock was aching, visibly twitching before you with how desperate it was to fill your holes.

you lean down, starting to slowly suck his tip, earning a moan from art before he leaned up, both his hands taking your ass into his hands. he begins to lick your slit, your juices coating his tongue before it latched onto your clit.

your moans were muffled as you filled your mouth with his cock, your eyes while you sucked. art didn't even notice that he began lightly rolling his hips, gently thrusting his cock into your mouth. you could feel him reach further down your throat, making you gag lightly but enjoy the feeling, nevertheless.

one of his hands moved off your ass and to your pussy, lightly, pushing his middle finger into your hole while he still licked at your clit. you gasped, pulling your mouth off his cock.

"f-fuck sorry, i-"

art didn't reply, he instead curled his finger inside of you, making you gasp and your body push closer to his. he pulled his finger out, before grabbing your ass in full again, squeezing your thick flesh before pulling you closer, until you were on his face.

your face was heated, and you slowly leaned down again, sliding his cock into your mouth in one swift movement, before your hips began to gently roll against him. you could feel his nose against your clit, and his tongue dive into your pussy.

you tried to push your mouth and your pussy into two different worlds. you wanted art to feel as good as you did.

you gagged on his cock, and you could feel his moans vibrate onto your pussy while he tongue-fucked you. you didn't know how much more of this you could take before you came all over his face.

"m-mmmhh.." you moaned onto his cock, slowly pulling your face up. you reached forward to stroke him. "art, i-i need to fuck you now, like right now.. you're gonna make me cum all over you if you don't stop.."

art groaned, pulling his face away, which was now coated in your wetness, before his hands found your waist, and lightly pulled you off of him and onto the bed, on your back. you watched him turn his body around, before he got on his knees between your legs.

"wanna see you when i fuck you." he leaned down to peck your lips before he took one of your legs and moved in onto his shoulder. "too pretty to not see when i'm inside you."

you blink, your cheeks a light pink as you take in his words. you smile, despite your nerves, as you look between your legs. you watch his other hand take his cock, and you reach forward, your hand on top of his, as you both guide his cock to slowly fill you.

you both gasp, watching art slide himself fully into your soaked pussy, before he began to find his rhythm. you look up to meet his eyes, both your hands trailing to your hardened tits, as you slowly began to rub your fingers against them.

art looked down, watching you touch yourself as he touched you, and rolled his eyes as the view only turned him on further. he picked up his pace lightly.

"i forgot how good it felt to fuck you." art hummed, his free hand that wasn't holding your leg up moving down to press his thumb against your clit, making you squeak at the added touch. "you are so beautiful, [ y/n ]. and your pussy is so, so good. so fucking sexy."

"yeah?" you giggle, looking between your legs again to watch him slide in and out of your pussy, each thrust sending a jolt through your stomach. "your cock fills me so perfectly, art. makes me so fucking wet. i missed it."

"you did?" he raised his eyebrows, tilting his head in a playful manner. he moved his thumb off your clit, reaching forward to gesture for you to open your mouth, before sliding his thumb inside for you to taste yourself. "you want me to keep fucking this pussy? i'll fuck you whenever you fucking want when you're at stanford. you make me feel so good."

"mhm." you nod, sliding his thumb out of your mouth as you moan at his now increasing speed while your words continued to build off each other's. "you can fuck this pussy anywhere. i don't fucking care, art. you're so fucking hot."

art shakes his head. he leans down to kiss you deeply, before his strokes become more staggered, pulling himself completely out of your hole and drilling himself right back into you. "let me fill you, [ y/n ]. please. wanna see you all stuffed with my cum."

you didn't give a fuck in the moment. you nodded, probably a bit quicker than you wanted to admit. you returned the kiss, but pulled away eagerly. "yeah, fill me up, do it, i don't care. it's so fucking hot. you’re so fucking hot."

art nods, starting to increase his speed, your muscles contracting as he leaned forward, and his cock pierced into you.

you didn’t remember him feeling so good inside you, and you certainly didn’t remember asking him to cum into your pussy, but you were so whipped in the moment you weren’t really focused on anything but what was between your legs and the man who the dick was attached to.

art reached down again to play with your clit, trying to stimulate your own orgasm along with his as both your bodies rocked onto each other, the hotel bed squeaking underneath you and the headboard hitting the wall harshly.

“i’m gonna cum in you, baby, i’m gonna now.. fuck—” art stammered, gasping as he stopped his movements inside you.

you arch your back while his cock filled you whole, your orgasm and his own warming inside you, your own orgasm dripping out from between his cock and your folds onto the bedsheets.

he fills you for a moment, holding you closely as he catches his breath before slowly pulling out of you, lightly rubbing his wet tip against your clit before rolling himself to lay beside you.

art reaches forward, and he cups your cheek. he kisses your lips lightly, some stupid, boyish smirk on his pink lips. you roll your eyes, looking up to the ceiling as you breathe.

“shut up.”

“i’m not talking!” art holds his hands up, chuckling as he glances down at you. “i’m just surprised, is all. this is not how i expected my night to go, but i’m not complaining.”

you roll your eyes, looking up to meet his blue eyes. they’re soft, and they’re gentle, despite the roughness in the way he just fucked you. you knew he meant everything he said to you.

“oh, hush. i’m sure you expected something to happen.”

he shrugs, a cheekish expression still covering his face. “well, maybe. but like, a kiss, or something like that, i don’t know.” he looks down at you, and kisses you again.

you smile into the kiss, before turning the side, grabbing your phone off the nightstand to check the time. “geez. we missed dinner.” you sigh, before looking back at him. “probably a good thing though.” you snicker.

art chuckles, nodding in agreement with you. the last thing he wanted to be around was your brother and tashi, too. “no kidding. you, uh, wanna grab something to eat? and then maybe i can show you around campus. i know it’s kinda late, but all the buildings will still be open. i can show you where some of your classes should be, if you’d want?”

“hm…” you pretend to think for a moment, before nodding, looking up to him and sitting up. “yeah, sure. why not.”

"great." art couldn't help but smile, watching you stand up and grab your clothes off the floor, handing him his own in the process.

he couldn't help but think that you coming to stanford was a good thing, for you and for him. he wasn't even thinking about how patrick would feel about all this. the goal was for him to not know, right?