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#build-a-blurb ask
dreamkidddream · 1 year
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hey, how about 🗣,🍯 and 📆 with dazai osamu for the game? i absolutely love you and your writing btw!!
Thank you so much!! <33 hope you enjoy and reader is gender neutral! (Also Dazai is a very complex character to write abt and I remember this every time I write something serious with him 🫠)
TW: tiny mention of suicide (it’s in reference to Dazai. Really tiny mention but still wanted to tag it!)
Build-A-Blurb Ask Game! *closed
🗣 having an argument
🍯 friends to lovers
📆 office romance
It was always people getting mad at Dazai.
From minor inconveniences that he creates to the downright risky and dangerous choices that he makes on missions (even if it does work out in the end). He was always the one that people get frustrated and aggravated with, even if it wasn’t serious half of the time.
You never thought it would be the other way around.
And you never thought you would find yourself on the receiving end with him glaring at you.
It was already tense in the room, and as much as you wanted to believe you could still hold your head high to face him, it was a bit hard to do.
You don’t think you’ve ever seen Dazai mad before- sure, you’ve seen when his irritation would slip through the cracks of his playfulness and when he gets serious, but not actually angry. It was an unfamiliar sight, and the longer he stood there, the more you started to squirm under his stare.
You felt small underneath his gaze, like a child standing in front of their disappointed parents. But you weren’t scared or embarrassed- if anything, it was causing your own anger to flare up.
“Wait- are you seriously upset with me right now?” Crossing your arms, you tried to keep your emotions in check, it was hard if you guessed the reason why he’s upset- it’s not like Dazai’s an open book and wash to read, no matter how close you’ve gotten lately.
But all he did was keep his hard stare on you, scoffing. “I don’t even know why I even bother-“
“Why you even bother- excuse me? Bother with what- me?”
The silence was enough for an answer, and enough for you anger to boil over.
“You know what your issue is Osamu? You don’t know how to communicate- you just run away from every single problem and then pop back up when it’s convenient for you, leaving the people you so call care about to pick up the pieces of the mess you left.”
You saw his eyes narrow and the petty side of you hoped that you struck a nerve.
“How is that fair to anyone? You just abandon them and then decide to come back when you’re ready to come back. And then you don’t even try to solve it- you just flash a fake smile and try to push everything under the rug like it’s already been handled when it wasn’t!“
Now you were raising your voice, fingers balling up into fists as you finally let out all of your pent up frustrations and emotions.
“And then you don’t even let me try- you don’t even try to let me in to help!” You stepped closer to him, and you missed how tense he was getting. “I got to a point where I thought I was finally getting somewhere,” you let out a dry laugh, shaking your head. “But I wasn’t, of course I wasn’t.”
The late nights leaving the office together, the soft glances he would give you, the gentle touches between you both- all of your shared moments ran through your mind, causing a sense of dread to fill you. Did those mean nothing to him? We’re you just there to pass time for him? Just a placeholder until he gets bored and moves on to someone else?
Even as you stand here and pour your heart out, all Dazai could do was stare.
Your chest was starting to get tight, voice cracking, “You’re just- do I even mean anything to you?”
He called out your name before you cut him off.
“Do I?” It came out as a whisper, and the silence afterwards was deafening.
His breath hitched and his eyes widened a bit, fingers twitching before being balled up at his side.
Something wet trailed down your cheek, and it was just then that you realized you were crying. You wanted to stop, but the thought of knowing that you didn’t mean anything to Dazai weighed on you heavily. It became nearly impossible to choke your sobs back.
“I care about you so much and it’s like I get nothing in return. It’s just- you’re so damn selfish Osamu!”
You cursed at yourself for being so vulnerable like this, but you couldn’t help it. Everything you were feeling came out all at once, and you were unable to hold it back anymore.
Was he even feeling anything now-
Something pulled you forward and you found yourself surrounded by warmth. It didn’t register that you were in Dazai’s arms as he gently pulled you against his chest.
You tried to tilt your head to meet his gaze, but he just pressed you closer.
“I care about you more than you’ll ever realize.”
You felt his chest rumble from his words. It came out quiet, but sincere. It only made you cry harder honestly, but you felt a sense of genuine comfort from him that’s been lacking for some time.
And Dazai knows it- he knows that he’s not a comforting person. He’s never been known to bring anyone a sense of comfort- only pain and despair, as dramatic as it sounds. He’s ruined lives, his hands are coated with blood that will never wash off, and he’s sure that he’s destined for hell once his time is up.
He deserves it though, he believes. He doesn’t deserve the peace that you bring him, he doesn’t deserve you. You made his time on this earth a bit bearable, and he doesn’t deserve that after everything that he’s done. And that alone made him even more worried about losing you.
But you were right about him being selfish. As much as he wants to end his life, he wants to indulge in you for as long as he can before he’s successful. It’s hard for him to be vulnerable- the only time he could be was when speaking to his dear friend, whether at their cherished bar or now at his tombstone.
But Dazai still didn’t want to lose you. He wanted you to know how much you meant to him before he passes on. The time that he’s finally ready to open up won’t come anytime soon or would be easy to do, but he hopes that one day he’ll be able to bear his sins and all to you.
But for now, he’ll simply hold you to remind you of how much you mean to him.
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dailyrandomwriter · 7 months
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Day 567
Since today is Sunday and I don’t have plans for today, let me talk (rant) a bit about the weirdness of writing a Dungeons and Dragons fan comic. There is a lot I can talk about because the way Dungeons and Dragons work outside of modules is that it encourages players to use their source material as building blocks to create their own stories. This means you can just ignore the source material completely or pick and choose from that source material. Having the source material is not necessary but it does relieve some of the creative burden of having to create something from scratch.
That being said, let’s have a chat about the Find Familiar spell, because spoiler, the kids are going to learn that at some point. For those who aren’t familiar with Dungeons and Dragons, Find Familiar is a 1st level spell (meaning it is most likely baby wizard’s first spell outside of cantrip spells).
The first paragraph of that spell (because it’s a weirdly versatile spell for 1st level) reads as follows:
“You gain the service of a familiar, a spirit that takes an animal form you choose: bat, cat, crab, frog (toad), hawk, lizard, octopus, owl, poisonous snake, fish (quipper), rat, raven, sea horse, spider, or weasel. Appearing in an unoccupied space within range, the familiar has the statistics of the chosen form, though it is a celestial, fey, or fiend (your choice) instead of a beast.”
The first paragraph as shown above is vague enough that both players and dungeon masters definitely can take advantage of it.. Players can use the different forms to be able to spy or gain access to isolated places with their familiars, and there’s at least two spells a dungeon master could use that prevents a celestial, fey or fiend from gaining entrance to a location.
But that is on a game mechanic level.
The fact that you’re summoning a spirit that is either celestial, fey or fiend means something in a narrative, the question is… what does that mean? @wereah and I have had several conversations about what this means to have a familiar using this spell. Normally in a D&D game, this stuff is primarily flavour text and familiars don’t really have a personality.
Though that isn’t the fault of any of the players. There’s a lot going on in a game, and even players that want their familiar to be more than just a spell that they can use, it can be very hard to remember you have an existing creature with you. Even Frumpkin, the familiar of Liam O’Brien’s character Caleb Widogast, often became more of a prop, coming out in role play only when there was a comedic gag or emotional moment that required Frumpkin’s presence. And Liam really tried to make Frumpkin an important part of Caleb’s life, he was after all, accidentally, Caleb’s emotional support cat. It’s just really hard to do, and the fact that Frumpkin has several fanfiction stories dedicated to him speaks to how much effort Liam put into making Frumpkin his own character.
But what does this have to do with Chimera Academy and baby wizards?
Everything, because Chimera Academy is a narrative story, not a role play. It is much easier to give these familiars personality through a story to tell, rather than through role play. However, it brings the question… What does it mean to summon a familiar into your service?
More importantly, what does it mean to summon a celestial, fey or fiend spirit into your service?
How smart is this spirit?
What is the agreement when they come into your service?
Why would they come into your service?
How much independence do they really have?
It’s not something the spell as a game mechanic talks about, but it is something to consider if you’re writing a story and decide to shove a familiar into it.
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tojisun · 1 month
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EXPAND ON THIS
https://www.tumblr.com/tojisun/758472884430716928/no-matter-how-hard-you-try-you-just-cant-make
AND MY LIFE IS YOURS
aww im glad that u (all) liked that blurb!! didnt expect the vitriol in ur guys’ reactions but ykw? samesies <3 oki uhh so heres something quick and simple
cw: fivesome (but they go in order, also simon doesnt properly get a turn im sorry 😞); f!reader; subspace; builds up into consensual noncon; unrealistic sex; rambly as hell and its set up messily; wc is 3.6k :’3
(you tell them it’s a wrong send, and that it’s meant for johnny so they all said, “oh damn. welp,” and leaves you and johnny to go at it all night long teehee <33) (jk) (unless) (no ok im jk)
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johnny fucks you first. the guys didn’t complain, and trickled into your room, ready to fall to whatever place they could sit down to watch. johnny laughs, and tugs you towards him, gently slapping your hand away when you try to cover yourself up with your shirt, and tells them, “watch me.”
not us, but me. like you’re a nameless hole whose only worth is to be fucked, and somehow that… doesn’t deter you at all.
instead, you ignore the warmth flooding in your cheeks and the stares that drag on your body, and focused on johnny’s smirk and his crooning words and his wide palms roving over whatever sliver of your skin he can touch. he positions himself in between your legs, his fatigues an uncomfortable sensation against your oversensitive skin.
he doesn’t care. he drags down his zipper and frees his cock from his briefs, before swiping his palm on the inside of your thigh, gathering the excess lube glistening there to use it as oil for his prick. your nose scrunches when he brings his hand to give himself a quick tug, foreskin peeling from the head to show off how flushed it is.
he crawls until he’s on top of you, and throws out, “let me show ye how to fuck ‘er, yes?”
you don’t even realize the words are for the rest of the squad because he’s already slipping his cock in your cunt, slow and careful, and you keen because yessss—
this is the delicious burn you’ve wanted. oh god oh god—
it didn’t even take johnny long before you’re cumming, your throat spasming at the scream that rips itself out from within you. your hips rise from the bed, your body jolting, unable to ground itself at the breaking euphoria that forced shockwaves to raze your synapses.
you fall on the bed limply, satiation filling you up in lapping waves. johnny pulls out and fucks his fist and sprays his cum all over your stomach. he musses it up, rubbing his palm against it like it’s a damn lotion, and lathers whatever inch of your belly he can cover.
it’s gross and weird, especially as the recollection that you’ve had an audience hits you, but then johnny’s stepping back and moving away. you try to shut your legs close, but someone’s already shuffling in, taking up the space that johnny had carved out.
you stare up at your captain, shock filling you up. he doesn’t ask with words but he quirks his brow up, waiting, and you don’t know what it is, but you give him a nod before ducking your head to the side.
which was a mistake, you learn, because you make eye contact with kyle; kyle who is—was—slowly rubbing himself through his pants, his palm gliding over his chub. his eyes are blown wide and he looks ravenous as he meets your gaze.
you hiccup, feeling cornered and delighted at the same time, but then john’s rubbing his cock along your messy folds, using the mess you and johnny made to lube himself up, and you mewl, tearing your eyes away from kyle to meet john’s stare head on.
he looks… calm. not teasing nor hungry, but poised with forced grace like this is another mission, and he has willed his full body to sync together so that not even a stray strand of hair will falter and miss a beat.
you don’t know how to position that with yourself, not like you needed to dwell on it any further because john’s already thrusting in. like johnny, he is careful, but he is more cautious, pushing inch by inch without even a ragged breath like he’s scoping out your reaction before he could let out his.
god, why’s everything so difficult with him—even now, speared with his cock, you still don’t know how to react. it’s like you’re a recruit all over again, dawdling underneath your CO’s scrutiny. it’s jarring, terrifying, really, but then john’s drooping onto you, his head tipping down to nuzzle close to your jaw, and this level of intimacy is what rips a moan out of you. it is drawn out and high-pitched, and so, so utterly debauched.
you hear more than see john’s pleased laugh, his breaths coming out in puffs that brush against your neck in a ticklish manner. the moment drags on—nuzzles and quiet huffs, and slow rocks of his hips almost like he’s taking his time to savour you; to allow you to get used to his size because he’s so different from johnny.
johnny is thick, but john is long. he is reaching deeper than you have ever known, and it’s so overwhelming that you begin to cling to him, in need of any way to ground yourself down from the slow-racing pleasure.
you don’t know how long he’s got you like that, but then he’s pulling back and away, and, “nonono, please. please, sir—”
“shh, i’ve got you,” he rumbles, still so utterly quiet that it forces out the tears faster, and you know something’s changed because john is looking at you with a proud smile, all tactile as he manhandles you to your side, before disappearing behind you. you feel your head being lifted then dropped onto something harder than your pillow, and it is only the smell of ozone that lets you know that john had pillowed your head with his arm, while the other snakes around your waist to pull you closer to him.
you stare at the expanse of your room but everything looks like they’re appearing underneath a hazy filter, so you blink your eyes to clear them from that mist but it remains unchanged. you feel heavy, all of sudden, like you’re submerged in water, wading through the ripples. floating.
you try to look at the others but all you see are blurs of colours, and you know this should terrify you, you know something’s happening in your mind, but you feel so good. so happy. so you fold into yourself, accepting the haze with a keen because john’s fucking back into you.
it is still so utterly gentle, like love-making, and this makes you sob because the euphoria is dizzying and overwhelming. it is something you haven’t felt before—johnny fucks you like a man starved; john fucks you like he’s trying to meld himself into you. or you into him.
it is so drastically different, and you were made to navigate the changing tides. but you can’t, not when john—
“fuck!” you scream, thrashing in his hold, but john ignores your voice as his heavy hand falls on your cunt with consistent smacks.
you feel lightheaded, untethered, and this is what pushes you to the edge. your orgasm is cataclysmic. it’s like having the fabrics of your reality collide until you are a supernova, bright and burning and so, so, so ecstatic.
you don’t even know how you came down from that high, but when you wake up, john’s already pulled out and your thighs feel extra sticky. you sniffle, turning to accept the quick kiss he leaves on your cheek. he pulls away and you watch him sink back to the lone chair in your room, and only then do you realize he’s still in his uniform. still in the fatigues.
it makes you extra vulnerable somehow and you twist, trying to find anything to cover yourself with, but your shirt’s been thrown to the floor, far from your reach, and your blankets were kicked off the bed.
you grumble, shyness encroaching again now that there’s no one to monopolize your attention, but a movement from the corner of your eyes makes you jolt. you turn, forcing your eyes to focus, and you blink in surprise because you are sure that kyle wasn’t there before—close to your shelving that is stuffed with little knickknacks and souvenirs brought to you by the boys when they take on separate missions that don’t require your involvement.
the same shelving where you’ve plopped your charging vibrator on. the very same one that is being held up by kyle.
“kyle?” you ask, unable to say any more with how wrecked your voice has become. but the call echoes like a gunshot in the suddenly stifling room, and they all look at you as one. like it didn’t matter if kyle was the one holding the wand because they all knew what they want, and it is to see you be fucked with it.
excitement fills you up despite the throbbing exhaustion settling in your bones, and you wonder if they could scent it with the way the pressure in the room grows heavy, almost bladed—ice shards against still waters.
kyle moves towards you and your eyes track the wand, almost hypnotized by it, and watch as he drops it on the mattress to shuck off his clothes. it is only then do you turn to him, hungry in the way you devour how he moves, how he breathes, how he unbuckles his belt.
his trousers come first, then his shirt. kyle is a catastrophic wonder—seeing him naked like this makes your core throb, aching need stretching in the yawning of your stomach, because he is so beautiful, terrifyingly so.
he reaches for your waist and drags you so you’re laying on your back again, your legs sprawled out on either side of his hips. he looks down at you, his eyes crinkled in his smile. he looks so charming, boyish and youthful, and he makes you thrum with quiet desire because you feel safe even when you’re bare before him.
you feel particularly cherished, like you are the apple of his eye.
“you’ve been so good to us, love,” he murmurs, but in the silence of everyone, his voice bounces off the walls, seeping into where the others are, watching raptly once again.
you nod, not knowing what else to say. kyle chuckles, the sound trickling like quiet chimes, and you wonder if he’s doing this for you—talking to you in whispers to give your body time to come down from the tremors, or filling you up with something other than a cock because johnny had come in scathing, and john had pierced you with something consuming, and kyle—
kyle is trying to distract you.
you’ve forgotten about the toy, sitting there so innocently. it’s out of your reach, tucked preciously close to kyle’s left leg the way he treats all his smaller guns—never straying beyond his person, and hovering close. you’ve once asked him if it wasn’t more comforting to have it on him where he can feel its weight and kyle had looked at you with that soft smile like you’ve uttered something so delightful, before telling you, “there’s a certain pleasure in having it displayed.”
like a promise and an assurance—he will always be faster; the one who is more in control.
and today, kyle is treating the wand with the same vehemence.
you didn’t even know you were already shaking your head until kyle had cupped your cheek, quiet sounds of comfort rumbling from his chest.
“don’t worry,” he says, eyes blazing with a terrifying promise. “all good girls have to be rewarded.”
kyle doesn’t fuck you with his cock right away; instead, he’d bent over and took a nipple into his mouth. it makes you gasp, back arching at every wet suck. there is pleasure to derive, but it is so muted that you begin to settle back into your mattress, waiting, almost in bated breath because kyle has yet to reach for the wand.
you jolt when he finally uses his hands, stomach tensing in anticipation. but still, kyle doesn’t reach for it, and instead he swipes a finger to your slit. your pussy’s still so sensitive so it makes you buck, a sharp animalistic sound tearing from your throat, and kyle takes advantage of the sudden change in the pace.
he slips in two fingers in your cunt, curling to poke at your walls, before fucking them out—he lifts up and sucks your other nipple—and punching them back in. it’s a wet slide, each thwaps ring in your head, and you moan, clawing at kyle’s back because how could he make you feel good just like this?
it’s almost a laughable parallel—just an hour ago, you had been in the same position, with your legs parted open and two fingers fucking in, while your other hand flicks at your nipples because you had so desperately wanted any form of orgasm. god, it didn’t even need to feel ecstatic, just something that’d rip your aching need into quiet tides. and now here you are, spread open with kyle mirroring every flick of his fingers and every pinching sensation on your nipples, and he is making you feel good.
how dare he. how dare he give you unadulterated pleasure with just his fingers? how could you ever go back to masturbating now that he’s even triumphed over your previous failures, showing your body that there are ways to make your toes curl without a cock nor a toy?
how dare he—
“no!” you whine, circling your hand around his wrist when he pulls out. you were so close; its tendrils spreading all over your body in the wake of your encroaching orgasm. you thought you were going to be rewarded? kyle promised. he said so!
“oh, love,” kyle coos, breaking through the swirling turmoil in your head. “i’m not done yet, i promise.”
you have to bite your bottom lip to stop the sob that is lodged in your throat as you watch kyle give his cock a pump before lining it up with your cunt. unlike johnny and john—and the reminder that they’re there, with simon, makes you jolt for a quick second—kyle doesn’t press in slow nor gentle.
no.
kyle punches everything in. you scream, the sound guttural as you are filled so quickly and so deeply, leaving you to feel the sudden crescendo of your pleasure. your body spasmed—because there was nothing else that could explain the sensation of having all your synapses sing with a ripping pleasure—before you black out for a second.
you come to the feeling of kyle’s hand mapping your belly, digging just enough that his fingers dimple your skin. you are still stretched and stuffed, and the remnants of your pleasure fire up again.
he flicks his eyes up to you with a smile. “came so soon f’r me, love.”
your only response is a gurgle. it makes kyle laugh.
“that must mean y’r ready for something else, yeah?”
a confused whimper bubbles from your throat. kyle just snaps his hips in reply, rendering your mind shut again. you hear him shuffling against the sheets, his free hand reaching for something you cannot see, and you feel your mind pressing at its edges, trying to retrieve the memory of what it is he is looking for because you know what it is, you’re sure.
buzzing noises fill your ears, the sound ricocheting around the space, and your body locks, recollection slamming into you. you tear your gaze away from the far wall to look at kyle.
you wonder what your face must’ve looked like because kyle begins to croon.
“i’ve seen this from a homemade porn video.” he shrugs at the incredulous expression on your face. “and i’ve always wanted to try it because sweetheart, they didn’t press it on her clit.”
what—
kyle moves, his body rippling with ease. you don’t notice but the boys crowd in, interest bright in their eyes. only ghost continues to be rooted in his spot, and it is only his head tipping to the side that lets the others know he’s just as interested.
kyle presses the toy on your belly. your nose scrunches in displeasure because it just feels like you’re being massaged incorrectly, but he keeps shifting, hunting, and it’s weird because kyle’s still in you so what—
you gasp, eyes widening at the odd sensation. kyle freezes, his body curling into something predatory, and digs your wand there on your—
“no way,” johnny laughs, and you want to snarl at him to go away but you can’t because he’s right.
no way.
kyle had pressed the vibrating bulb of your toy just below your belly and slightly before your upper pelvic area—kyle had pressed the toy on your womb.
the pleasure is new, uncharted, and it is petrifying because you’ve never felt this way before. you didn’t even know it was possible to stimulate yourself there, but kyle’s already resuming the pace he’d set, fucking his cock in deeply almost like he wants to feel the buzz from within.
you begin to sob but the tears feel different this time. they’re still out of pleasure, but the swirling surprise melts the euphoria into something frightening. you don’t even realize you’ve begun to babble.
“no more!” you hiccup, weak fists thumping against kyle’s chest only to be restrained by john and johnny, each man pushing them down with their own hands.
everything feels too scary, all of a sudden. this pleasure of yours is bigger than you have ever expected and it’s building up too fast and too soon, and still, kyle remains unfazed.
“i’m scared! i’m scared, kyle please!”
your words turn into unintelligible warbles, and kyle just says how you are so adorable like this.
“y’r pussy’s going stir crazy, baby,” he croons amidst your tears and you want to scream at him, to be mad and say something mean, but you feel so utterly lost in the bubbling bliss.
it is something you’ve never felt before; it’s almost like you are relearning your body at this very moment—like kyle is unmaking you, and remodelling you, and you feel this cathartic bloating of your orgasm.
kyle sees the moment you succumbed to the enveloping terror of your euphoria, and it’s like he’s been waiting for this moment because he begins to fuck you faster. deeper. his pelvis meets the plush of your ass with every thrust, while he digs the toy further down your flesh.
how could the vibrations ripple past the fat, you don’t know, but your orgasm is building, peaking—
it breaks with another scream tearing from your lungs. this one is much stronger than the previous ones, and enveloping because it feels like your whole body has shut down in the wake of your release.
your mind splinters, your body falling limp like your strings have been cut loose, and kyle turns forgiving again because he shuts the toy down and throws it away. he pulls out and only then do you feel the trickle of his cum sliding out of you.
he leans in, brushing his nose over your cheek. then, “just one more, little bird.”
kyle slides off the bed, but so do john and johnny, and you hiccup, still sobbing, still floating from the world-shattering climax, when simon greets you.
he is quiet for a while, watching as you catch your breath. you couldn’t even stop yourself from sniffling, tears pooling in the corners of your eyes to stain your already blotchy cheeks. he grunts, hand falling to brush unimaginably soft touches across your body, observing.
waiting.
“was’it?” you finally bite out because you know simon—you know ghost—and there is something that’s sitting on the tip of his tongue that he so desperately wants to spit out.
simon grumbles, rolling his eyes.
you groan, growing impatient. “tell m’.”
but he still doesn’t talk, choosing instead to manhandle your body until it is close to him. you want to tell him to give you a minute; that you’re still so sore and tired, and kyle just fucked you mindless that you need a goddamn break, so, “s’mon, no…”
he grunts, palming along your waist, then your hips, before it stops on the fat of your ass. he grabs a handful.
“won’t you let me fuck this hole instead,” simon finally replies.
your heart lurches to your throat, and you’re not the only one surprised because johnny’s bounding in close, excited, chatting simon’s ear how he wants to go next, “please, LT?”
you want to tell him to ask you, not simon, but simon’s already giving his assent with a huff, chirping how johnny’s so impatient—a master and his dog—before they turn to you again.
it is only then do you realize that simon hadn’t been asking for proper permission; it was all formalities because he was not going to settle for anything that isn’t yes.
anal sex hasn’t been something you are really interested in; no amount of porn and online anecdotes can change your mind, but simon’s gaze is heavy. it’s final.
before you can even reply, john’s already throwing something to simon. he catches it with ease, and only when simon flicks his hand do you recognize it to be the lube you’ve chucked away in your anger when this whole night started. kyle returns with the wand.
you lay there, on simon’s lap, seeing them flanking you for this… corrupting.
“okay,” you muster, trying to stake even a semblance of control.
thankfully, they ignore the shaking of your fists or the way your chest begins to heave in your morbid anticipation. simon laughs, and swoops down to nip your cheek.
“good girl.”
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whew whyd it become a long ramble of smut??? it was supposed to be a john n johnny centric fucking bc of the prelude but alas, i needed to write a semblance of dark!kyle so here we are <3
temp taglist bc yall are animals (affectionate)!!!: @getosuguswhore @slut-lmao @mxtokko @imjusthereforkonig @bratzdolly4 @mabelwinters @stars4sar @sergeant-jasper @spiceywawa @j0r-d1e
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rafey-baby · 1 month
Text
sweet treat 2
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In which sexy construction worker!Rafe who spends his days lifting heavy stuff and building shit (his words) and driving shy!reader home shows up on her doorstep in the middle of the night...
Hi! this is a part two to this (also this whole story was originally supposed to be just a small blurb consisting of a few silly sentences but then I got a bit carried away :D) anyways hope you enjoy xx
part 3 part 4 part 5
cw: construction worker!Rafe being a tease, slight somnophilia, smut (dry humping, dirty talk, p-in-v, unprotected sex)
wc: 2.7k
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It’s past midnight when her doorbell rings, making her brows furrow. She throws the fluffy covers away, immediately yearning for the warmth of them as she pads her bare feet along the chilly hardwood floors of her apartment. 
No one has ever been at her door this late, which makes her hesitate. Maybe it’s just her neighbor asking for sugar, she tries to reason, as if the retired elderly lady living next door would even be up this late. For all she knows, it could be a criminal who’s escaped prison, holding a bloody knife at her.
Curiosity ends up getting the best of her (as always) and she finally opens the door, albeit gingerly, mentally preparing to face a serial killer. However, all her worries wash away like pollen under rain when she realizes it’s Rafe standing tall before her.
”Oh, hi. What are you—  what are you doing here?” A surprised look paints over her visage. 
”You forgot this in my car, thought you might need it back,” he’s grinning, holding out a phone to her, pale yellow case making her realize it’s her phone. She almost doesn’t recognize it, since it appears so tiny in his massive paw, almost like a miniature version of the device she’s grown accustomed to. 
”Oh my god, I was looking everywhere for it, thought I was gonna have to buy a new one,” she takes it from him, a grateful smile etching her features. 
”Yeah, couldn’t exactly call you,” he shakes his head at his terrible attempt at a joke.
A delighted giggle escapes her throat, nonetheless, eyes crinkling and teeth poking out; forcing the corners of his mouth to lift up as well as he finally takes in her appearance. 
A worn out t shirt a few sizes too big and…well, that’s it. She’s not wearing anything else. He’s trying not to stare at her plush thighs, or the way the hem of the shirt slightly climbs up, revealing even more skin as she rakes a hand through a messy head of hair, swallowing nervously under his attention. 
Unfortunately for the both of them, he never actually ended up fucking her when she came over to his place last week and had him cook for her. He just felt so bad about initiating something like that when she kept yawning through forkfuls of pasta, eyes barely staying open as she complained about her limbs aching and how she was so exhausted she could sleep for a week after the particularly long shift she’d just had. 
Which is why he simply drove her home after their late-night dinner and wished her a good night with a heavy hand on her shoulder, thumb smoothing over the material of her shirt, letting her rest in tranquility. Telling himself he could be patient with her, not wanting to rush anything. 
However, she’s not making it very easy for him right now when there’s only one piece of clothing covering her. She looks so sleepy and pretty he has half the mind to pick her up in his arms and slump down on her bed, crawling under crisp sheets and feel how her lungs expand against his chest. 
”Sorry, did I wake you?” He carefully asks, suddenly worried he’s disturbed her serene slumber. 
”No, no. I mean, I was in bed but couldn’t really sleep so…” she trails off, desperately trying to come up with something to make him stay a bit longer, not wanting him to go yet; finding immense comfort in his assured presence. 
”Um, do you— do you want to come in? I could make you some tea or something?” She clumsily offers. 
His brows raise, surprised at her proposition. She’s being uncharacteristically bold; his mouth twists into an amused simper.
”Actually, forget I said anything, you’re probably really tired and just wanna go home, sorry, I don’t know why I even—” she scrambles to correct herself, and now that sounds more like the girl Rafe’s grown familiar with. 
”Don’t be stupid, of course I’ll come in,” he cuts her off, stepping past the threshold, taking a look around her cozy home. Leafy plants adding greenery to the small space and picturesque paintings fixed on the cream-colored walls. It’s cute, he thinks. 
She sets a steaming mug in front of him on her kitchen table and sits down next to him on a wooden chair. He’s definitely not staring at the way the bottom of her shirt rides up the tops of her thighs, allowing for the flimsy material of her panties to peek out. He clears his throat. 
“You often have trouble sleeping?” He tries to focus on something else, anything else, taking a slow sip of the searing liquid; nearly burning his tongue in the process. 
”Yeah, sometimes. It’s just sometimes it’s hard to shut my brain off after spending all day at the cafe. I try to fall asleep but the loud noises of the customers talking and the clinking of plates and spoons keep replaying in my head and suddenly I’m wide awake, you know?” She explains. 
”I’m sorry, is there anything that helps?” He prods. 
”I don’t know, I guess just trying to think of something else or talking with someone else,” she mumbles out.
”Oh, so what you’re saying is that you’re just using me in order to fall asleep?” He teases, grinning when he manages to drag out yet another giggle from her mouth. 
”Yeah, I suppose I am,” her eyes glimmer like little stars when she looks at him. 
”Should I feel offended right now?” He jokingly scoffs. 
”No, you should feel flattered, I don’t invite just anyone into my home at almost 1 am, just so you know.”
And he thinks he likes this side of her, all playful and sleepy, she’s a lot less reserved than her usual fully rested and overly conscious self would be, more carefree. Maybe that’s the reason he lets the next words escape the gaps of his teeth. 
”You into cuddling?” He asks, profound aquamarine locking with her rounded eyes. 
”Uh— I mean, I probably would be if I had someone to cuddle with, but I don’t so…” she drifts off, not sure how to respond.
”Wanna cuddle with me?” He says it so nonchalantly, and she doesn’t understand how he’s so indifferent to this whole situation while she feels dizzy, dazed mind reeling and vivid heart tingling in her ribcage.
”Really? You want to? But wouldn’t it be weird?” She seems taken aback by his proposal.
”Why the fuck would it be weird? I mean, we’re friends, right?” His brows crease.
”Yes, of course we are, I just-”
”Look, all I’m saying, is that it might help you sleep, yeah? Having something else to focus on and shit,” he reasons, making her realize she’s totally overthinking this; he’s simply trying to help. ”You’re right, yeah, we should do that then,” she agrees and swiftly gets up on wobbly feet, almost falling face first on the ground, if not for his strong grip on her waist steadying her, grounding her, drawing a faint gasp from the back of her throat at his sudden proximity. 
”Easy there, Sweetheart,” he chuckles against her hair, finding her eagerness to get into bed with him amusing. 
”Sorry,” she mumbles, a raspberry hue dusting over her cheeks. 
And that’s how they end up tangled in each other under her soft sheets, his beefy arms wrapped tightly around her middle, caging her in with gentle fingertips toying with the hem of her shirt. His sturdy chest rises and falls against her back in tandem with his steady breaths, pacifying her; coaxing her heavy lids to flutter closed. 
He’s so warm and big making her feel so secure and safe she thinks she wouldn’t mind doing this again. 
”You good?” He murmurs next to her ear. 
”Mhm,” she blissfully croons, letting out a content exhale. 
Her mind begins to topple over the edge of reality, plummeting into oblivion; a far away dreamland where everything is upside down and the ether is evermore the shade of fluffy cotton candy and the sand consists of stardust and ecstasy. 
”Sweet dreams,” is the last thing her misty awareness grasps onto before she’s in the tender embrace of a crepuscular dormancy. 
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
She’s lethargic in her movements when she rouses from the abstruse blankness she seems to have lost herself in. Rafe’s heavy arm is draped over her waist, trapping her body into his and it’s murky in her unlit bedroom; the pale moonlight gleaming through the slots in her curtains the only beacon illuminating the space. 
The lines of her cerebrum are blurred and she’s not sure what has woken her up. 
Then she feels it; something poking her from behind, pressing against her ass. There’s a crinkle in her brow until her eyes widen in realization. 
He’s hard. Rafe is hard and she can practically feel the culprit of his excitement since he’s only wearing a pair of boxers, having complained about getting all too hot during the night to wear anything more.
She swallows. 
What is she supposed to do?
She shifts against him, trying to untangle her limbs from his. However, her attempt is proved fruitless when instead of unchaining her, he lets out a low groan, rumbling deep from his firm chest; grip tightening around her smaller form. 
”Rafe?” She calls out.
No response. 
”Rafe? Wake up.” 
Still nothing.
She can feel him breathing heavily against her hair; pawing at her hips every now and then, trying to pull her even closer, even if they’re already effectively glued together and there’s absolutely no means for her to move. 
She’s starting to become sticky between her thighs as he drags her against his cock again; seemingly stuck in a stupor. 
She mewls when her clit throbs, pestering for some sort of friction. And that’s when he finally stirs, the weight of his arms loosening like a tight knot unfurling and her lungs are finally able to greedily suck in brisk air. 
”Shit, sorry, my bad” his tone is gravelly and at that, some sort of birds begin flapping their wings in her tummy, jabbing at her insides.
However, he doesn’t pull away like she half expects; her face heats up.
”It’s uh— it’s okay. I mean…no worries,” she rambles because what the fuck is she supposed to say?
”No, it’s fully my fault, just had quite a nice dream,” he admits, voice coarse.
”Oh. What was it about?” She inquires, yawning, perhaps too curious for her own good. 
”You wanna know?” His brows raise, surprised.
She hums. 
”Well, there was this really pretty girl, and she had me in her mouth and was letting me do whatever I wanted to her,” he murmurs with a heady tone overlaying his response. 
”Oh,” she tries to appear indifferent, although there’s a pitiful sprout of jealousy threatening to blossom from the damp soil in the pit of her stomach at his words. 
He chuckles at how oblivious she is. ”You’re silly sometimes, you know?” He was practically dry-humping her just now, was he not? Why would he be dreaming about another girl when he’s got her right here with him?
”What do you mean?”
”Nothing,” he shakes his head, smiling to himself. 
”So, what else happened?” ”What else? Okay, then she let me do this,” he says at the same time as he grabs her hips again, pushing against her, earning a faint whimper from her when she can feel how big he is through the thin fabric of her underwear.
”Rafe…what are you doing?” She manages to ask through a whine; his blunt nails denting the exposed skin of her thighs. 
”Got no idea what you’re doing to me, do you?” He mutters, shallow.
”I— what are you— what are you talking about?” Her brain is foggy and she’s not able to think straight when he’s so close. 
He doesn’t answer, instead continuing the retelling of his dream. ”Then I grabbed her like this,” he lifts her on top of him in one smooth motion, as if she weighs nothing more than a piece of paper. Her inhale gets stuck somewhere along the way when he paws at her hips, shuffling her around until she’s straddling him, properly sitting on top of his cock and he lets out a heartfelt grunt when she moves her achy cunt over him. 
”You like this? Such a needy little thing, yeah?” He helps her find some relief by grappling at her hips; dragging her against his cock, filthy groans escaping his mouth when he feels her wetness saturating the two layers of cotton between them. 
”Rafe, can you…” 
”Can I what, hm? Play with you a little?” He says as he slips a hand in her panties, fingers petting at her puffy clit and a loud moan leaves her when she lifts the fabric of her shirt up in order to have a better view. 
”Didn’t know you were such a dirty girl. Getting real fucking wet from me just being close to you, yeah?” His thumb rubs lazy circles on her sensitive button, making her cry out his name as she presses down harder against his cock.
”Shit, gonna come in my fucking pants if you keep doing that. You wanna know what else was in my dream?”
She nods, frantic. 
”I pushed this little piece of fabric here to the side,” he says as he plucks at her underwear, doing just that. ”And then, I did this,” he mutters as he takes himself out from the confines and her eyes round out as she looks down at it in his palm, mesmerized. He thuds the head of his cock on her clit, one, two, three times, and then smears it on her sticky folds, painting it up and down her soaked cunt. 
”Rafe…” she whines, desperate to feel him inside her. Unfortunately for her, he’s feeling a little mean, pressing just the tip inside her tight hole, slowly pushing in and out, turning her into a whimpering mess. The hydrangea blue of his eyes is locked down to where they connect, fascinated. 
”Fuck, Sweetheart, does that feel nice?” He asks, swiping a thumb over her swollen bud, tucking his cock in a little deeper, forcing a loud noise to leave her throat. 
”Feels so good, Rafe, I think I’m gonna…” she trails off, lids heavy as she stretches around him. 
”You’re gonna come already?” he chuckles, amusement coating his face, nudging his dick about halfway in and out, never fully plunging it inside of her though. 
”You feel so good, I can’t— can’t hold it,” water droplets are gathering in the corners of her eyes, catching to her lashes as teary eyes look into larimar and she rolls her hips against him, chasing after some sort of release.
”Shit, go on then, let me feel you soak my cock, yeah?” He encourages her and she doesn’t need to be told twice; crying out and throbbing around him, hips stuttering as her cunt pulses and she’s unspooling on top of him.
”There you go, just fucking give it to me,” he grunts and all of a sudden he feels his own orgasm approaching; rolling down a hill like a landslide. She’s squeezing around him so tight, he can’t help but thrust his hips into her, a guttural moan leaving him when he stuffs his cock profoundly into her, to the hilt.
He stills inside her and then he’s groaning out when his cum gushes out from his drippy tip, coating her gummy walls in white, filling her to the brim; making her feel so full. She thinks she could die happy right now. 
There’s so much of it, to the point where the sticky substance begins to seep out from where they’re connected as they both pant, trying to even out their breathing. 
She turns into something mellow in his arms, slumping down against him, burying her face in his neck as he draws sluggish circles on her back, calming her down with tender words spoken in gentle murmurs. 
”Did so good for me, shit, we should do this more often, yeah?” He says with a sleepy tinge.  
And she’s completely out of it, head as empty as ever, merely managing an amorphous hum in agreement; tumbling down a slippery slide right back into a nebulous slumber.
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taylor-titmouse · 7 months
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hey i want to talk about how you should be promoting your work as an erotic author/illustrator
i'm writing this up because the marketing aspect of my work as an erotic author/illustrator is a science to me, and also because i'm the guy who gets unreasonably annoyed when i see other creators not properly advertising their work. you presumably want to make money off your work. this post will be written under the assumption you want to make money off your work but are doing a bad job at it. it will be very confrontational. if you read this and feel attacked you're right and i am attacking you.
this is geared toward selling erotic comics/writing/books/art as products. i will probably write more than one post about this subject so if i didn't touch on something you want to know more about, comment/send me an ask and i'll keep it in mind for the next one.
i will start with my first and least specific but most important point:
DON'T GET FUCKING CUTE
hi are you paying attention. i'm gripping you by the sides of your face. do not get fucking cute with what you are trying to sell. you are not a big enough property to get cute, nobody LIKES it when big properties get cute, and you are selling porn. you have to own this. you have to be up front about this. don't be tongue in cheek, don't be all teehee i wonder what this could be~, don't be secretive. you are selling a product. you have to fucking act like it. you are an adult selling pornography to other adults. i am GRIPPING your HEAD you NEED to understand this.
and to be clear when i say 'cute' i mean coy. i don't mean cutesy, as in the aesthetic. you can be as hello kitty pastel ten emojis a post uwu as you like when you're building your audience and generating hype. but when you start trying to sell, don't be vague, don't be sarcastic, don't mislabel your work as a joke and assume everyone is on it. because they're not.
you must always assume 75% of the people seeing the thing you are advertising have no fucking idea who you are. and that includes a huge chunk of the people who already follow you. they do not know who you are or what you've been working on for two months or why they should care about it. they just got here. somebody just reposted it. they are seeing it for the first time. most people are only looking at social media for a tiny chunk of their day. they are not keeping up with you. you cannot get cute about what you are trying to sell because nobody knows what it is until you tell them.
okay are you still with me. we are going to talk about clarity now.
YOU GOTTA TELL ME WHAT IT IS
good lord the amount of times i have gone to buy somebody's comic or book and had no idea what's actually in it or what it's about. who are the characters? why should i care about them? what do they do in it? what is the premise of this thing you want me to spend $5 on? why would you not tell me? i'm shaking you again. please i have to know what i'm buying i only have so much money to spend on porn.
porn, arguably more than any other genre, relies on knowing exactly what is in it. you do not want to surprise your readers with a kink they were unaware of! and on the flip side, you do not want to miss out on your target audience! if your book contains a hot spider babe laying eggs in an elf, you have to say so. not just so people who don't want to read about eggs know it isn't for them, but so the people who are egg crazy can see that and go "oh fuck YES i love EGGS here is my $5 and an extra $2 tip for catering to me specifically". a contents/features list is as much an advertisement as it is a warning!
as for re: who the characters are and why should i care, i'm sorry but you need to learn how to write sales copy. you have to write blurbs. you have to get good at the shit that goes on the back of a book. we all hate it but we have to do it. i want to know who the characters are and what the context is. i, personally, am not interested in contemporary stories as much as fantasy and historical. please tell me what genre this porn exists in so i know if it aesthetically appeals to me. pull some books off your shelves and see how they do it. hell man go look at mine.
while you're there, note that every single book of mine has a sample of what's in it. this feels like such a no-brainer to me but again! the amount of times i have gone to buy somebody's work and they don't show me what their work looks like! you gotta give me the first page or two! just enough that i know if i like the way your writing sounds, or the way you draw your comics! i don't know you! i am not going to trust that you're good at what you do just based on a cover. the cover is to get me to this step, it is not the only step. you have to show me that you're worth spending my money on!
to put it less cynically, you want to catch my interest. you want me to go 'oh i want to see more of this', you want me to go 'ahh i want to know where this goes!' you need to get me invested and craving more. earn my $5!!!
YOU HAVE TO MAKE IT EASY TO GIVE YOU MONEY
hey go look at your bio right now. go look at your pinned post. do you have a link to your patreon there? do you have a link to your itchio/gumroad/whatever? do i have to click more than once to get to the places you want me to go to give you money? why? why are you making me click twice? have we learned nothing from every website making you click an extra time when they make some stupid UI update and how much it pisses us off? i have already given up, i have forgotten you, i am not giving you my $5 today. put your links in the easiest places to get to them.
god literally as i was writing this post i went to go find somebody's itchio to see how they described their work and it was not anywhere on their profile. grabbing you and shaking you PUT THE LINK WHERE I CAN FIND IT. don't make it hard! make it easy! i am a dickhead sitting on the toilet scrolling, saw your post, and was interested enough to read further. but you made me go to your bio to find your linktree and oops i have already gone back to my timeline to look at the boobies in the next post. stop wasting precious bio space on DNIs and put your fuckin links there!!!
this is more for the twitter people, but: just put the link in the damn post. just say the word commission. just say it's for patreon. "wuh wuh the algorithm" it is not the damn algorithm it's that everybody hates advertising and nobody wants to retweet ads. putting slashes in the words doesn't do anything and you look like a fool. i have posted so much art that says it's 'a commission for ___" and it did exactly as good as any other art despite having the word commission in it. and by doing the slashes you just made it impossible for anybody to search your account for your commission information (which should be at the VERY LEAST in a post under your pinned tweet if you're not actively posting about them being open).
okay that went on a tangent i'm going to back to the point of putting the link in the tweet. put it in the first post. not in the first reply. don't tell them to go to your bio. put it in the post people are actually going to share. it's fine to put more information in the thread but people are only ever going to share the first post. so put the link there. you have to make it easy. putting links in tweets can hurt you algorithmically, even in the replies. so you're better off having it in the post that actually gets seen and shared. i don't want to open the tweet and scroll to get to your sales page where i ASSUME you will have put all the information anyway. put it in the tweet that just got retweeted by itself onto my dash!
also you have to share it a ton of times. i repost my shit every few hours when i'm trying to push a new product. as i said before people are not 24/7 looking at their timelines. they missed it the first time. they missed it the second time. they didn't get paid yet that week but they were after the eighth time and you reminded them again so they finally bought it. that i will still get sales every time i repost a book ad weeks after release says there are always people who missed it, or who only just showed up.
abandon your pride and shill. shills pay their bills. anyone who gets annoyed about it isn't giving you money in the first place. don't worry about looking like a sell out. don't apologize for plugging your own work. post about it often, post about it in different ways. post about it. post about it. you are not going to make money if people don't know you have something to sell them. if you want to make a career out of it, you need to act like it.
I DON'T HAVE A FOURTH POINT
kisses your forehead. i'm sorry for yelling at you. i've been making and publishing and selling adult art for the past two-three years and have got myself to the point where it pays my rent, and i got there by paying attention to what does and does not work.
please do your best to make money. i want you to make money.
as i said above i plan to write more posts on this subject, such as cover design, how to actually write sales copy, and best practices with running a patreon, but if there's things you would want to hear more about leave a comment or send an ask! i will probably be less aggressive on future topics. these are just things that have grinded my gears for a grip.
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webslingingslasher · 1 year
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Hi can I ask for a blurb where Peter accidently hits the reader while playing or something like he sometimes forgets about his super strength but fluff at the end please 🥺.
this got away from me but this was so fun and cute to write!
“I kinda want a black eye.” 
Your boyfriend slowly lowered the bag of peas on his left eye, his elbow dropped daringly, forcing you to look at the dark purple hue. 
“Oh, really?” 
You nod, “it looks gnarly but it’d be cool to have one.” 
“Baby, my heartbeat is currently taking place from my eyeball. You don’t want one.” 
Stretching across the space on the couch you raise Peter’s hand back up so he can ice the bruise some more, it does look painful. 
“I think if you loved me you’d give me one.” 
Peter took a second to see if that sentence would resonate with you but it hadn’t. 
“We should go to the women's shelter and spread that knowledge.” 
You scoff, “they weren't asking for it, Peter. I am.” 
Your boyfriend lowered his temporary ice pack and reached a hand out, his thumb rubbed under your eye, you almost thought he was thinking about it. Almost. 
“I’d never. I would, however, patch you up if you ever got one.” 
“Do you have a friend that could-” 
“No.” 
—------------------------------------
Oh FUCK did your eye HURT. 
It was on a level ten throb level, it felt like a ring stretching to your eyebrow and nose. You couldn’t even open it, all you could do was press your hand to it and try and stop the pressure from building, it didn’t work. 
You were able to blink it open just enough to be blinded by the living room light, you’ve never been so light sensitive. Squeezing it shut you winced, you tried to be understanding and calm; it was an accident after all. But the pain was spreading all over your face and you had a target right on the corner of your right eye, and it hurt. 
If your right eye could open it’d be shedding tears too, you had one continuance stream coming from your left eye. 
Your voice bubbles with pain, “petey, it hurts.” 
Your boyfriend couldn’t even breathe right now, he had hurt you. The one thing he swore he would never, could never do, and he did it. Panic flooded his body, panicked he’s caused serious damage, panicked you’d be scared of him, panicked you’d dump him, panicked your dad would come curbstomp him. 
“It hurts so bad,” he knows you’re calling out for him, he knows you need him, but all he could replay was the ‘whack!’ in his head. It wasn’t gentle in the slightest, you whipped away from him with a hiss, your hand immediately covering your eye. You had been okay at first but after a minute had passed it became nearly unbearable.
Peter knows how bad a black eye hurts, and he just gave you one. 
His short, barely there breaths start to stutter.  
And suddenly Peter couldn’t see because his vision was muddled by tears, he tried to blink them back but they ran. He can’t remember the last time he’s cried, but this brought him to his knees. He never wanted to punish himself more than in that second. He should’ve been quicker, he should’ve known you were behind him, he has those goddamn senses and they did nothing in that moment. 
“Peter!” A desperate cry for attention, you don’t know what to do, it hurts more than you could imagine. 
You look up at your boyfriend still standing in shock where he jumped away from you after hitting you directly in your eye. A wrestling battle, you had tried to take him down after he’d pinned you three times. In an effort of a sneak attack you crawled up the couch and tried to jump on his back where he sat on the floor. You dived and at the last moment his hand… well you don’t know what he was trying to do but it connected hard to your cheekbone. 
Your back hit the couch and you held your hand as you hissed and groaned in hurt, Peter scrambled up and backed up behind the coffee table, as if he was scared to be around you.  
He’s crying, your boyfriend’s crying. You’ve been punched and he’s crying. 
“I’m.. I’m sorr.. Fuck.” Peter snaps out of it, you need him. He crosses to the couch in two steps, his hand cupping your cheek. It makes everything in him deflate when you flinch as he touches you, he bites his bottom lip to stop a sob. “Baby, I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” 
His heart hurts as you cry, his thumb taps at your hand covering the damaged eye. The one he caused. 
“Let me see it, please?” Peter said it like a question, like he’d ever be lucky enough to have that privilege. 
You sob, “it hurts.” 
Peter blinks, more tears. He can’t believe he’s crying over this, he also can’t believe he hit his fucking girlfriend. 
“I know, I know it does, baby. Please let me see it.” 
You choke in air to stop your crying, it works. You slowly lift your hand off your eye, it’s not throbbing as much but the pressure has inflated tenfold and you couldn’t open it if you tried, it was swollen shut. You tried to gauge a reaction out of him, to see how bad it is. You forgot your boyfriend had the world’s best poker face. 
Peter wanted to curl up into a ball when he saw the damage. 
It was bruising, and swollen and you couldn’t open your eye and it was all his fault. 
His fault, his fault, his fault. 
If he was normal, if he was a normal boyfriend, this wouldn’t have happened. A normal teenager doesn’t have the strength to hold a ferry or stop a runaway bus, he does. And he used that strength on you. 
His powers, his abilities, his strength.
His fault, his fault, his fault. 
“You need ice.” Is all that could come out. A wince wraps over your face when you nod, you try to sit up and groan. “Everything hurts. How do you do this? Pain has to affect you differently, right?” Peter ignored you as he backed away, you don’t think he’s ever been so aware of his surroundings and actions. 
He shouldn’t be getting ice, he shouldn’t be putting it in a plastic bag and wrapping a rag around it, he shouldn’t be grabbing you tylenol extra strength, he shouldn’t be icing your black eye he caused. 
His fault, his fault, his fault. 
It scared you how quiet he was, the accidental punch was just that. You weren’t upset at him or scared he would do it again, you were scared how odd he was acting. He was strangely quiet and standoffish, when he came back to you with ice and pills you watched him think about holding the bag to your eye but stopped and put it in your hand. 
He shifted his weight and looked at the couch, he stepped back and sat on the coffee table. 
Peter cried and was quiet and standoffish and scared to touch you. He was terrified of himself, you may be physically hurt but he was emotionally broken, his one major thing washed down the drain. Accident or not he gave you a black eye, and it was tearing him up inside. 
You hummed when ice hit the hot skin, suddenly it didn’t hurt. 
“Am I right, super high pain tolerance?” 
It’s like you broke through a wall, Peter looked up at you like he just found out you were in the room. 
“I hit you.” 
You would’ve rolled your eyes if you could’ve. 
“That’s a little dramatic.” 
Peter shook his head, upset you weren’t upset. 
“I hit you hard, I hurt you. I…” His hand pulled at his curls so hard you grit your teeth. “I fucking hit you,” he whispered it, like his own mind couldn’t wrap it around. 
He doesn’t pull out the fuck word often. 
You thought about reaching out for his hand, but you think that’d made things worse. 
“I’m not scared of you, petey. It was an accident.” 
“I swore i’d never hurt you, that I would never hit you and I didn’t-” 
“Mean it.” You cut him off, “you didn’t mean it.” 
Peter rubbed at his jaw and blinked, you saw tears puddling and you wanted to do nothing more than hold him. He couldn’t stop thinking about it, you lowered the bag of ice from your eye prepared to switch seats. He wouldn’t let you. 
“Ice.” Cold and hard, like you had no other option. You didn’t question him, you followed instructions. 
“Remember when you asked me to give you a black eye months ago?” 
It was a joke. Sure, you saw a tiktok with a girl who had one and you couldn’t deny it looked a little cool. Then seeing one on Peter the same night you couldn’t shake it. You were just playing around, it’s not like it was that serious. 
“I was joki-” 
“I told you I'd never, and I did. I hit my girlfriend and gave her a black eye.” 
Disgust. That’s what it was. He was disgusted with himself. 
You sat up straight, your lip curled up. 
A black eye? Sick.
“Wait, really?” 
Peter looked up at your excitement, it came from nowhere. 
“You gave me a black eye? I have a black eye right now? For real, for real?” 
This wasn’t a cute or funny thing, and he won’t let you make it be one. 
He hit you.
“This isn’t funny, I hit you and you’re happy you got a black eye?” 
“Pete, I forgive you. And not just cause you gave me a black eye, because it was an accident and you didn’t mean to and you’re obviously extremely remorseful.” 
“But I-” 
You reached out for his hand, “forgive yourself. You forgive yourself.” 
It wouldn’t be instant, until your eye healed, which would be at a much slower rate than him, he wouldn’t be able to fully forgive himself. 
“No more wrestling.” 
You scoff, “no more sneak attacks, how about that?” 
He shook his head, “I don’t want this happening again.” 
“If the situation was reversed would you want me to hold it against myself?” 
Peter scoffed, “absolutely not, but it wouldn’t hurt me like it does you.” 
“So you do have a super high pain tolerance.” 
He snapped and ripped his hand from yours, “yes, I do have a super high pain tolerance. I also have super strength and give my girlfriend black eyes.” 
You held your hand up, the other one slightly freezing from the cold but you were too scared to take it off. 
“First off, plural. Second, please stop. You’re making me feel bad, I’m really okay and I’m not mad and I forgive you a thousand million percent.” 
Peter inhaled sharply, he has to believe you. He’s more shook up than you are and he guesses he should agree with you, you were the hurt one. If you forgive him he could try and do the same.
“I think you need to give me a black eye to even it out.” 
You gasp like your offended at his words, your hand lays over your heart. 
“I’d never!” 
Your boyfriend ran his tongue over his teeth and gave you a dead stare, his hands pushed him off the coffee table. His words grumbled, “toxic.” 
8K notes · View notes
indulgentdaydream · 4 months
Note
protective!jason hcs or blurb 🥰
Ok so I kinda touched on these in my latest fic but anyways i WILL elaborate bc those were just background
We all know that man is touch starved. We ALL know it.
We also all know he’s hesitant with sharing touch
It’s only once you both have been dating for a bit already, maybe three months in, that he really starts to show his protectiveness through his touch
Or at least when you notice it
He’s always at least holding your hand as you guys walk around Gotham. Depending on exactly whereabouts in Gotham is when he changes whether he’s between you and the road, or you and the alleyways.
You watched him change it up one time halfway through your shared walk, him letting go of your left hand, stepping behind you and around to grab your right instead.
“Oh? So you want me to get hit by a car and die?”
Jason only keeps his eyes on the passing buildings and the ones coming up, “The chance of that is much lower than somebody trying to mug you in this area, love.”
One day you’re both out at the bar together. He’s sitting on a stool behind you as you babble to oke of yours friends.
From over their shoulder, you see a man approaching, but don’t think anything of it.
Suddenly, you see the man stop in his tracks, freezing. You glance over at him. He looks terrified. He glances at you, his original target, then behind you again. He spins on his heel and walks back the way he came.
You look behind you, feeling Jason’s hand still resting on your hip. You almost feel a little scared yourself, seeing that killer glare that Jason’s pointing at the guy’s back.
He switches immediately the second he looks down to you, a soft smile and kind eyes, not a hint of the previous bloodlust a mere second ago. “What?” He asks, like watching his expression change wasn’t the biggest turn on in the world.
You’re sitting in your apartment at your desk typing away on your laptop. You’re trying to file your taxes, and Jason had come over to help you with it (surprisingly he knows how even though he’s still legally dead at this point and hasn’t had to pay any taxes. Ever.)
He had stood and was wondering around your room a bit while he waited for you to fill the next part out. You can hear shuffling, but you’re too focused to tune into it.
“Jay? What does this line mean?”
Jason grunts for a moment and you hear your window slide open.
You turn back around, “Jay?”
“One second.” He shuts your window again. You watch as he fiddles with the lock before easily sliding the window back open. He throws his hands in the air and looks at you. “How long have you lived here?”
You shrug, confused, “You helped me move in.”
Jason waves his hand through the air, “When?”
“Almost a year? Last November.”
Jason fiddles with the window again, slamming it back down, “This lock doesn’t work. You been sleeping in here and anyone could’ve just broken in?”
You shrug again, “I didn’t know it was broken! I don’t really lock my window often.”
Jason looks like he almost broke his neck by how fast his head whipped back to you, “You don’t lock your window????”
He finishes your taxes for you before he leaves, saying he’ll be back. Within the hour he’s knocking on your door again, a duffle bag in hand full of power tools, screws, and different assortments of heavy duty locks. He spends the rest of the night installing them.
A new one on your bedroom window that actually consisted of two different locks. A similar two on your kitchen window. Another three on your bedroom door itself. Then four on your front door.
As he leaned over your kitchen sink, screwing in the lock and blocking your way as you tried to make you both dinner.
“Is this really necessary?”
“I’m not having you practically open to every bad thing the city has to offer, love.”
“Then how are you going to come in through my window now?”
“I’ll learn to knock.”
That’s all I can think of right now okay byeee
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wrioluvr · 5 months
Text
flirty playboy x mature male reader
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this stupid ass meme had been on my mind forever and i realised how funny it would be to have a slutty playboy who just sleeps with anyone to seriously pine over a more mature, secure guy who doesn't fall for any of his shallow charms and tricks.... here are just some blurbs of their dynamic (˵ ¬ᴗ¬˵)
his name is roman. he's a little toxic, but he just wants to be loved.
cw: some smut, top male reader
it all started with a little night out. you didn't do those often, due to devoting most of your time towards work and earning a stable career, but finishing this particularly gruelling assignment called for a celebration. at the bar, dancing with your friends, a good-looking man with a playful glint in his eyes approached you full of bravado. he told you how handsome you were, and had been eyeing you from across the room for a while now. but from a single glance, you could tell he was the type to break hearts. beach-blonde dyed hair, a tight fitting tank top revealing his muscular build, an eyebrow piercing, the way his mouth curled up so subtly into a little smirk.... he was everything you knew to avoid getting serious with. but a little hookup couldn't hurt, right? you deserved a little fun.
and it didn't hurt you at all. a few failed relationships had made you wise beyond your years, knowing to easily seperate the good guys from the bad. you knew your self-worth. roman, on the other hand, was absolutely smitten. no other man had fucked him THIS good, gave him such gentle aftercare, and even let him stay as long as he needed. the way you so effortlessly lifted his legs up to thrust in and out of him at a rhythmic pace, or fondling his tits and squeezing his nipples softly while you hit it from the back, or tenderly running your fingers down his spine, arching it sensually.... he loved it all. it was clear to him that you prioritised his pleasure as much as your own, and it showed in how he orgasmed several times before you even came in him once, panting breathlessly while wearing the sluttiest expression of his life. it was nothing like any of the men he had sex with before. afterwards, you let him stay the night in a guest room, and even brewed a cup of coffee for him in the morning.
roman was damn near tears when you offered to drop him off at his house before you headed off to work. if he was being honest with himself, his insecurities were the root of his constant need for sexual intimacy, so being treated with genuine kindness for once was new to him.
"is dropping you off here alright?" you ask, turning into the road of his apartment complex.
"y-yeah...." he looks out the window, unsure how to look you in the eyes.
"okay. thanks for last night. stay safe." your words carried an air of finality to them, like you were so sure the two of you would never cross paths again. he didn't like that.
"uh, uh......" he stuttered, all his usual flirtatiousness thrown out the window as he couldn't meet your gaze. "could i... get your number?"
your friendly smile froze on your face. "uhhhh.... sorry, i'm not really looking for anything serious right now."
he quickly regained his composure, charm turned up to the max. shifting his tank top so more of his chest was exposed and you could notice his nipples protruding, roman whispered in a low tone, "that's okay! we can just be casual... and fuck anytime you like." a wink. a hand on your thigh.
"jeez... okay, no offense, but i've heard rumours from my friends that you're a bit of a... playboy. i'm not interested in being your toy, sorry."
roman's face flushed in embarrassment, knowing what you said was true. except the part on him seeing you as a toy. that was untrue. he could feel a warmth growing from the pit of his stomach at the thought of spending more time with you. were these... butterflies?
maybe begging would work.
"okay fine, i am a bit of a player... but please, please, pleaseeeeeee.... let's be in contact, okay? as friends?" roman sniffled pathetically, shaking your shoulder in desperation. he needed to be in your presence. why weren't his usual maneating tactics working?!?!
"alright. here you go. just don't spam me or anything, okay? i gotta go for work. see you." you sigh, a little exasperated but choosing not to let it show. he immediately lit up, typing your number in his contacts and saving many hearts next to your name. you prayed your acts of basic human decency wouldn't cause him to catch feelings. you needed to focus on your job right now.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
3:02pm
[romanbabyxx]
hiiiiiii
[romanbabyxx]
i know you said not to spam you but like
[romanbabyxx]
i miss u
[romanbabyxx]
can we meet up at the bar for drinks or something like that? please?
3:10pm
you check the messages on your phone, rolling your eyes and ignoring them. he was probably sending this text to at least three other guys right now. he had a history of cheating, based on what you heard from your friends. you weren't going to be another one of his victims.
5:35pm
[romanbabyxx]
are u ignoring me?
[romanbabyxx]
im sorryyyyyyyy
[romanbabyxx]
pls hit me back when ur free
7.30 pm
[name]
sorry, just got off work. will be super busy this week, so not free. mb.
[romanbabyxx]
oh, its okay! next week then?
[name]
i'll see
this went on for a few weeks, you constantly evading his invitations, being polite and professional, never too intimate over text. roman was starting to get fed up. he's so used to getting everything he wants, he doesn't know what to do when he actually has to work for the one he desires. he actually hadn't hooked up with anyone since your one night stand, but you didn't believe that.
roman was at his wits' end. he could only think of one final plan to get your attention.
trying to make you jealous.
over the next week, he hooked up with any and everyone he met in the bar, not bothering to keep his slutting around discreet. he wanted you to hear the rumours. he wanted you to feel a sense of unease within your very being. he wanted you to feel possessive. he wanted you, to want him. the whole time, even as he was getting fucked, he could only imagine you caressing him, holding him close, loving him.
his deeds didn't go unnoticed. your friends told you about it, yet you didn't feel anything in the slightest. you were right, after all... he forgot about you within a week and moved on to whichever poor man he would leave high and dry next.
the next time you bumped into him at the bar, roman was his usual, party-loving self, excitedly slinging an arm around you, a drink in hand. his plan had to work, surely? you would be begging to have him back. but yet, when he offhandedly (yet so intentionally) mentioned how much dick he had been getting the past week, anticipating your change in expression, nothing happened. "oh. good for you." was all you said.
he sputtered, flustered by your calm demeanour. didn't you care? at all?! "but.... but.... aren't you jealous? that i've been hooking up with other guys?!"
you stare at him, a genuine quzzical expression plastered across your face. "why would i be? it's not like we're dating or anything. it was just a one time thing."
your words hit like a knife through his heart. he clutched his chest dramatically, a pout forming on his lips. "i'll be faithful! i promise!" his words came out more desperate than he intended. he felt so vulnerable, so naked, yet you were the face of serenity. your unimpressed eyes stared through his soul, as if you were scrutinising his very core. he knew you could heal him, make him feel loved, but he was starting to doubt there was any possibility you would feel the same.
"i'm sure that's what you said to the last guy you cheated on."
.
.
.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
i intended for this to be lighthearted but why was it actually kinda depressing tbh
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sturnsdoll · 5 months
Text
𝖶𝖨𝖲𝖣𝖮𝖬 𝖳𝖤𝖤𝖳𝖧 -`♡´- -C.S
(HEADCANNONS!)
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pairing: chris x (gf) reader, some reader x bsf matt and nick <3
summary: how chris would support his girlfriend before, after, and through wisdom teeth removal, as well as being under the influence of anesthetics!
warnings: fluffy!headcannons, dentist, mention of teeth pulling, little blood, slight mention of needles, anesethetics, established relationships.
authors note: kind of a blurb more than hc's tbh? it was a little rushed! sorry!
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₊⊹⤑ you had been talking about how nervous you were for a couple weeks now..
₊⊹⤑ so it was no surprise when the whole car ride there, you were holding your boyfriends hand and avoiding the topic of what you knew was coming.
₊⊹⤑ chris had been reminding you everyday that besides the needle, the rest of it you wouldn't even remember. he ensured that him matt and nick would be there the entire time if you needed a hand or two.. or three to hold.
₊⊹⤑ with some encouragement (and chris lending you his grey zip up to wear for emotional and physical comfort) you did manage to enter the building just to get it done and over with.
₊⊹⤑ while the IV was intruding your skin, chris stayed next to you, asking about what flavour of ice cream you'd be getting after as a distraction from the needle.
₊⊹⤑ from there on, the process itself you had no memory of but chris stuck close by the entire time incase you needed anything or for some reason woke up.
₊⊹⤑ "hey sweetheart how'r ya feeling?" chris would ask while gently holding your hand when you come to your senses
₊⊹⤑ confused, your instinct was to sit up but chris would immedietly usher you to lay back down, letting you know that they're done working on your teeth.
₊⊹⤑ "why dtha fack is this bullshit still in my fucking arm then HUH?" your words wonky from the cotton in your mouth and the haze of anesthetic.
₊⊹⤑ "shh, were in public stop cursing like a sailor" "dude, nobody under like 100 says 'cursing like a sailor'" "yeah, what he thsaid!"
₊⊹⤑ chris would of course glare at you for agreeing with matt. but his thumb soothingly rubbing your hand tells you that he's obviously not too mad.
₊⊹⤑ you would leave later then you should have because everytime a password was given to you, you'd forget less than five seconds later..
₊⊹⤑ "it was ass right?" "no, it was GRASS sweetheart...."
₊⊹⤑ everything that came out of your mouth had the doctors and the triplets giggling.
₊⊹⤑ when it came time to take the IV out, chris thought that a 'got your nose' joke would be funny to distract you with. it was... definetly distracting at least???
₊⊹⤑ usually you were sweet to your boyfriend but something about anesthetic had you more than arguementative today.
₊⊹⤑ chris would try complimenting you "you look pretty even like this"
₊⊹⤑ "i KNOW i do. stop being corny you sthtoopid fuck" chris's jaw drops like he's offended but you don't care because nick's contagious laugh brings out your own laughter out as well.
₊⊹⤑ "i thought i was supposed to be the stupid one right now, not you"
₊⊹⤑ "maybe YOUU need to see the dentist about all those terrible jokes that come out of your mouth."
₊⊹⤑ you had no filter, just having fun rebelling against your usual niceness to your loved one.
₊⊹⤑ then finally the car ride came.
₊⊹⤑ now you leant on chris' shoulder to take a nap
₊⊹⤑ "thought i was stupid?" he questions, arm coming around to pull you in closer. "shhhh i'm sthleeping" the inpedament on your speech makes him giggle. "I SAID SHHHHHH" "jesus. my bad sleepyhead"
₊⊹⤑ the whole car ride he was making sure you didn't need your gauze changed, asking if you need water, offering you chapstick. you had to tell him to shut up at least 100 times before he'd relax, telling him you could put your own damn chapstick on. (you ended up asking him for help two minutes later...)
₊⊹⤑ the whole rest of the car ride was filled with you zipping up and down the zipper of your boyfriends sweater you had on, mixed with your favourite artist playing as you attempted to sing along
₊⊹⤑ the second you entered the triplets home, you rested on the couch with your legs over your boyfriends lap, singing a song that everyones pretty sure doesn't exist..
₊⊹⤑ "i love... YOUUUUUUU, i lovovovovovee YOUU, all three of YOUUuUuU-" "someone sedate her again." nick jokes while handing you an ice pack you'd previously asked for.
₊⊹⤑ "want me to hold it on your jaw for you bab- oh" before he can finish speaking you're gripping his wrist, leaning toward him "wanna know something?" you ask eagerly "hm?" "I LOVE YOU!" "i love you more"
₊⊹⤑ matt and nick didn't enjoy the next 30 minutes of the predictable arguement at all. ₊⊹⤑ once the delusion of the anesthetic wore off, you were just plain tired. nick and matt had both chosen to chill in their own rooms by now.
₊⊹⤑ the second you mentioned wanting to lay down, chris curled up behind you with a blanket over the two of you. he held you tight, muttering in your ear about how good you did today and how proud he is that you went.
₊⊹⤑ "sorry for calling you stupid" you apologize with a sweetly apologetic smile.
₊⊹⤑ "aw, it's okay. i know you didn't mean it-" "wellll sometimes.." "nevermind i don't forgive you."
₊⊹⤑ he'd make sure your favourite cartoon was on and that he held your ice pack on your sore jaw till you eventually drifted into sleep.
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tags ᥫ᭡: @pettydollie @mattsrod @sturncakez @sturniololovesss @sturniolosstar @sstvrnioloo @watercolorskyy @sturniol0s @6ix9inewiturmom @sonicsmacks @orangela
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Text
Red Hot
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Based on the song ‘Breaking the Girl’ by Red Hot Chilli Peppers. Also, requested by the sweetest nonnie!
Blurb: Eddie has never had a constant in his life. Everyone leaves or he does before he can get hurt. After working up enough courage to ask you on a date, he can’t help the itch to run from you when he sees you talking with another guy.
Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Light angst with a fluffy ending, miscommunication, reader referred to gal/girl, Eddie’s puppy eyes being teary. Jealousy. I think that’s all….
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divider by @cafekitsune
It all started in August.
The longing stares, stolen touches, blushing cheeks, sweating palms. Eddie had fallen for you. Hard. And it was incomprehensible to him.
Sure, you guys had been partnered on a few class projects, muttering sweet ‘Hello’s’ to one another as you passed in the hallways. But nothing overly serious. Nothing that could lead to this flutter in his inked chest.
The feeling startled him— like falling asleep, only to dream that you’re falling from a building and then you jolt awake.
You frightened him. You with your shining smile that could light up the whole of New York City, or your bigger than life bubbly personality and your Einstein like brain. You frightened Eddie Munson— and he liked it. Loved it, even.
When he looked at you, he was sure. Surer than he has ever been about anything in his entire life. He wanted you— he needed you in his future. You made him feel… wanted. Normal? Less like than outcast and more like a friend.
And so he asked you out— but not without extreme difficulty. It took him three whole days to pluck up enough cowardly courage to slip a hand written note into your locker, signed from him with a cheesy love heart stamped next to your name on the back.
Eddie was consumed by immense panic after he had posted the note to you. He paced the halls and even contemplated breaking and entering into your locker just to steal the note back. It wasn’t regret, but more like guilt.
He wasn’t brave enough to ask you face to face. He knew he wouldn’t be able to form a coherent sentence in front of you, nevermind ask you out to a diner for milkshakes.
He also couldn’t handle your rejection. It would sour him… it would break his heart.
And so when he seen you bounding over to him and the other guys at lunch like a cheerful bunny rabbit he nearly sunk and hid beneath the table. Terrified of what you might say— of what you might think of him…
Would you take him as he was?
His insides were twisting and turning, his feelings for you burning…
“Hey, Eddie…” you stop a few paces away from his perched frame, your cheeks flushed and your fingers fumbling with your pocket, “Could I please borrow you for a moment?” Your voice is sweet enough to make Eddie’s own cheeks pink and your eyes examine the table, almost as if you are asking for the men’s permission to pinch their friend.
They spare you some friendly and amused smiles, but that is all. They know better than to meddle with the things Eddie cares about.
“Sure thing, sweetheart.” He clears his throat in the form of a light cough, his palms slapping against the top of the table as he lunges from his seat and onto his feet to meet you. His movements are so fast that it takes you a moment to register that he is standing inches in front of you.
“Lead the way.” He purrs softly and that’s it for you. Your brain is none responsive. Eddie was great at the art of pretending. He was a pretender— which meant that he was the master at faking his confidence. As he watched your jaw fall slack at his toothy dimpled grin it only spurred him on further. He was adoring the effect he was having on you.
Leading Eddie into the quiet of the corridor you stop against a wall, smiling angelically up at the metal head, “I got your note.” Part of you was hesitant to even approach Eddie, in doubt that you had been brutally pranked by someone but the softness in his eyes and the relaxation of his tense shoulders put your mind at ease.
“What note?” Eddie perks a brow, a massive stretched smile on his lips and you swat at him playfully, pulling the loose piece of crumpled paper from your pocket and waving it in front of his nose, “Okay, okay.” He throws his hands up in surrender before tucking them beneath his armpits; trying to contain his nerves.
“If by chance, I did slip that into your locker… what might you reply to it? Y’know— if it were from me.”
There’s a moment of pause and you purse your lips in false thought, holding the note flat against your chest, “I think I would say yes— but only if it were you.” You sigh, frowning mockingly, “But I guess we shall never know, huh?”
You sway away from the wall, overly slumping your shoulders as you take agonisingly slow steps back toward the cafeteria.
Eddie can’t contain his thrill. You just agreed to go on a date with him. You! You agreed!
He punches the air whilst your back is turned to him before he is prancing behind you like a ballet dancer, “It was me! Did I mention that? Swear I did.” He grabs the note from you and you giggle as he examines his own handwriting, “Yep! See, right here. That’s my name.” His index finger taps on the inked page and you hum in recognition and amusement. Peeking up at him through the thickness of your eyelashes you offer him a sly smile and he is quick to return one to you.
“Okay, well… how about Friday then? You, me and some delicious milkshakes?” You chirp like a song bird, clasping your hands behind your back and rocking on your heels.
Eddie’s heart thunders in his chest and his cheeks ache from the unremovable smile on his face.
“Sounds like a date, Princess.”
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-
Eddie couldn’t keep his Bambi eyes closed at night, all he could think about was you. You and the minutes counting down to your date together. He had to fight the urge every single second of every day to smother you with attention in the corridors at school. He wanted to allow you space but fuck— was it challenging.
He would leave rouge flowers and their stems poking out from the vents in your locker— never specifying if it were him or not. But you knew. You knew it was Eddie leaving you little trinkets. Like a trail of rose petals leading right to him.
In between classes he would stare at you from a distance, right through the crowd and you would feel his blazing gaze on the back of your head which, without fail, caused your flesh to flush brightly with colour.
He couldn’t help it. You were stunning and the literal gal of his wildest dreams. His pretty little flower. He just wanted you to be his so badly that he was terrified of suffocating you with his presence.
He hadn’t spoke to you from that day in the hallway; he thought it safer that way. Wait until the date, and then let you decide how you feel about him.
The thought made him antsy and unable to keep still. If he had one wish right now, it would be to read your mind. Just so he knew— so he really knew. So he could please you and make you happy. No matter the cost. No matter the effort. He would do it.
He already felt so strongly about you; and that’s why it bruised his heart so brutally to see you giggling and talking with another bloke. Eddie had never experienced jealousy on this level before, but it felt Hellish. It felt intentional and spiteful and he couldn’t control the envious tears pricking at his waterline as he longed for you from afar.
He wouldn’t let you hurt him. He wouldn’t let you get close enough… not anymore. No matter how badly he wanted a life with you. He decided not to take the risk.
And little by little, the trinkets stopped and you only received one final note that Friday morning.
A cancellation letter.
‘Can’t make it tonight, see you around.’ - Eddie
The excitement you had for the night ahead fizzled out and died— sending your stomach sinking like a plane shot from the sky.
What hurt you most was that there wasn’t even an apology. You could understand being too bashful to ask you out face to face— but to cancel on you through a lousy note? You couldn’t understand that.
You thought you meant more than that to Eddie, you thought that he thought more highly of you. Felt more for you. But you must’ve been mistaken since you had to walk through his blizzard of a mood change.
He wouldn’t look at you anymore. His once warm gaze turned icy and much less frequent than before. You couldn’t think of what you had done to deserve this from him. His cold shoulder and snippy responses.
It was hurting you more than you could have imagined. You liked Eddie— you really liked Eddie, and to have him be so brutish toward you was dizzying. Upsetting. Penetrative; like a knife to your heart. Twisting and turning relentlessly. Unwaveringly. Suffocatingly.
But you weren’t one to back down from confrontation; you were going to get the truth out of him if it were the last thing you do.
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-
It’s Monday afternoon and after working yourself up all goddamn morning you decide enough is enough. You can’t take it anymore. You have to know why.
“Hey, Munson!” Eddie’s brain hasn’t time to compute what is happening before you are stomping over to him, your arms flexed by your sides as your fists are balled tightly by your waist.
“What do you want?” His deep voice is rumbly and clipped as it leaves his throat and you scoff at his nonchalant tone.
“I want you to explain this.” The crumpled piece of paper is held slotted between your middle and index finger as you wave it like a white flag in front of his face, “I never pegged you as a coward, Eddie— really, I just don’t understand.”
Eddie’s ‘give no fucks’ attitude falters at your distress and he has to shove his hands into his pockets to keep his composure. He knows he can’t sweep you up into his arms and coddle you the way he wants— so he settles for this. Being a total dickwad toward the one girl that actually makes him feel something.
“What’s not to understand? I saw you with another guy and I took the fucking hint. Plain and simple. You don’t owe me an explanation and I don’t see why I owe you one, Princess.” He shrugs his shoulders in discomfort but to you it seems like utter ignorance.
His nickname for you tastes like battery acid on your tongue. A pill that’s hard to swallow. You don’t like this facade he’s putting up— not one bit.
“What are talking about? What guy?” Genuine confusion wraps itself snuggly around your psyche and it’s now Eddie’s turn to scoff in annoyance.
“Oh, please! Don’t act dumb, Sweetheart. I saw you and Eric together with my own two eyes. Giggling all cutely— showing him extreme interest. It was clear as day that you were into him.”
“Into him?” You echo, “I was simply being polite, Eddie. That’s the type of person that I am! Maybe you should try it sometime instead acting like an asshole!” The words spit from your lips like bullets and Eddie begins spiralling.
Had he got it all wrong? He knew you were a polite and gentle girl. It’s one of the many reasons as to why he liked you. He couldn’t help his mind from going to a dark place after seeing you together with Eric. It came to him as though it were second nature.
He had to run before he got gunned down.
“Wait-“ Eddie calls after you, his voice strangled as he leaves his post to jog behind you, his belt chain jingling with his movements, “Please!” His hand clasps your shoulder softly and you spin around to face him. Your face is flushed with anger and Eddie is taken aback from the look in your eyes.
He had seen it so many time before from his peers.
Distaste. Annoyance. Fear. Fury.
All so familiar to him; but they look so foreign in your kind eyes.
“What?” Meeting him with the same blunt force he displayed earlier has his heart clenching; bracing for impact.
“I… I misunderstood.”
“You think?”
“I just… I’m not good at this.” He gestures between the pair of you. A shaky breath leaves Eddie’s lungs and you soften at the sight of him becoming dishevelled in front of you, “I don’t know how to love. And… and I guess when I saw you with Eric it was my own insecurity eating me alive. I wasn’t mad at you, I was mad at myself.”
The metal head leans against a near by wall for leverage and you move in closer to him, magnetised.
“I saw the life you could have. The life you deserve… and it wasn’t with me.” His bottom lip quivers and you can see the struggle roaring in his eyes as he tries to contain his tears, “I’m afraid. I’m afraid of getting hurt and being the one that hurts you.”
The answer was clear as day to you. You knew how to love unconditionally. You could be the one to teach him. To guide him. Eddie needed reassurance; that’s all he needed and you could offer him that. You could work at this with him.
“You don’t get to decide who gets hurt in this world,” With shaking hands you reach out to touch Eddie’s face, your thumb stroking his cheek to catch a stray tear, “I can show you how to love. And how to be loved.”
You’re smiling like an idiot, your heart pumping hopefulness throughout your entire being.
“Yeah?” Eddie sniffles gently and you nod your head vigorously.
“Yeah.”
Slender ringed fingers curl around your wrist and Eddie holds on tightly to the warmth of your skin against his.
“You feelin’ reckless, Sweet girl?” The teary eyed man is smirking now and you fear for the future of your heart; it might just combust into flames at the sight of him.
“Well, that depends what you mean…” you perk a brow, intrigued and Eddie laughs.
“Let’s ditch next period and grab those milkshakes I promised you.”
And without any further hesitation, you allow Eddie to take your hand into his and lead you out of school grounds and toward the rest of your lives together.
-
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camzeecorner · 20 days
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Midnight Mommy! 18+
blurb sub!matt x fem
Summary: waking up to the noise and movements of Matt, you’re surprised by what you see.
warnings : titty sucking, praise, dry humping, smut with no plot, hand job, degradation if you squint, finger sucking, fingering, slight masterbation, mommy kink, sub!matt, pet names
𐙚₊˚⊹ 𐙚₊˚⊹ 𐙚₊˚⊹ 𐙚₊˚⊹ 𐙚₊˚⊹ 𐙚₊˚⊹ 𐙚₊˚⊹ 𐙚₊˚⊹ 𐙚₊˚⊹ 𐙚₊˚⊹ 𐙚₊˚ ˚⊹ 𐙚₊˚⊹
Matt tossed and turned throughout the whole night, shifting uncomfortably in the bed. He’s had a painfully hard cock all night. He debated on waking you up, deciding against it just incase you woke up in a bad mood.
He turned his body laying flat on his stomach, pushing his hips down in the mattress. He felt the soft touch of the sheets rubbing against his pants creating the friction he’s been craving all night.
He whimpered lightly into the pillow below him. He was trying to be as quiet as he could to not startle you. His movements began to pick up, and so did he sounds. He was so lost in the feeling he didn’t even feel the bed move from you awakening. You sat up against the head board watching as Matt pathetically humped the bed.
“What are you doing?” Your voice filled with confusion. Matt’s movements stilled to the sound of your voice. He turned looking at you, eyes wide. “M-m’sorry mommy..” Matt spoke softly. His eyes searched your face looking for any reaction. God he was scared. “Please forgive me..” you huffed out a breath looking at him. “What’s got you so worked up baby..hm?” You asked suddenly. Matt opened his mouth ready to speak just for nothing but moans to fall out. You gently placed your hand on the base of his cock stroking lightly and slowly.
“Answer me.” You spoke with seriousness laced in your tone. “Yo-you mommy.. you look-mm- s-so good” Matt spoke between broken moans. “Yea? Is that so? You got hard from watching me sleep? Fucking pathetic.” You spat at him. Matt bucked his hips up. Your words sending him in pure bliss. He began breathing harder feeling you pick the speed up. “Can I cum? Please mommy.” Matt called out, his voice strained. You sat there watching him, ignoring his request. Matt was so close, tears began slipping from his eyes. Silently crying he bit his lip trying to hold his composure.
“Pl-please..” he spoke again in hopes of getting an answer. “Go ahead baby..” you spoke quickly. It wasn’t long until Matt moaned loudly as his warm sticky cum shot from him. His waist and your hand covered his his fluids. “Thank you mommy..” Matt spoke as he came down from his orgasm. You kissed him lightly mumbling a small ‘you’re welcome’
“Good night baby” you said kissing his head lastly before turning over to sleep once again. Matt felt bad he had woken you out if your sleep. It was only fair if he returned the favor. “W-wait!” You turned your body again towards Matt. “What?” You asked confused. “What about you.?” “I’m fine I promise” you told him smiling. Matt shook his head pulling your body closer to his. “No.” He spoke sternly.
It was quick, matts mouth had attached to your left boob sucking harshly at the skin. He moaned at the feeling. His fingers found their way to you panties, tracing the band before slipping two fingers through your wet folds. You moaned loudly. Your hands tangled in his hair. “Doing so good f’mommy.. making me feel so good..” you said.
He slipped two fingers into you, fingering you slowly building a pace. “Am I doing good mama?” He asked ready for more praise. “Fuck s-so good don’t stop” you spoke beginning to rock your hips matching the rhythm of his fingers.
You could feel your climax approaching. You moaned into his shoulder biting slightly. “Gonna cum matt.. oh fuckkk” you cried out feeling your cum release. Matt continued his motions allowing you to ride out your high. Pulling his fingers away he licked them clean. “Mm tatse so good mommy” he moaned at the tatse eyes rolling back. “Such a sweet pussy..all f’me right?” He asked innocently looking into your eyes. You chuckled running you fingers through his hair. “All for you baby, no one else.” You place one final kiss to his lips before cuddling into his chest falling back into your slumber, matt following right behind.
Tags- @shaquilles-0atmeal @monroesturnns @blahbel668 @mattssluttywaist @jetaimevous
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dreamkidddream · 2 years
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hiiiii!!! your writing is divine, so i was wondering if you could please write, for the game, megumi + 👄 sharing their first kiss + ☁️ enemies to lovers + 🔥 slow burn.
Awwww thank you! 🥹💜 and I’m very sorry this is late (plus I needed this after the recent chapter 🫠😭 reader is gender neutral!
A/N: modern/college AU, aged up
Build-A-Blurb Ask Game! *closed
You didn’t like Megumi and Megumi didn’t like you.
That was the plan, the script that both of you were suppose to follow to perfection, with no changes or distractions.
It was cliche, and you could probably name whatever show you saw this exact trope off of- enemies from high school that ended up at the same college, and even matched together for a school project that would determine the rest of your academic career.
It was annoying, and you gritted your teeth each time you found yourself sharing the same air as him- and he felt the same.
It was obvious to your respective friend groups that you loathe each others’ guts. They would comment each time they saw the nasty glares and snide remarks you would give one another.
You abhorred him, and he abhorred you.
So when did he start to find him so tolerable?
Was it because you noticed how calm he was (a complete difference to the delinquent image you had of him years ago)? Or how he’s seamlessly able to focus on whatever’s in front of him with no issues? Or maybe because you saw how he was actually willing to help you with this project instead of abandoning you like you originally thought.
Either way, the tension wasn’t as thick as it was before between you.
And you began to notice a lot about Megumi these last few weeks, despite your constant denial.
How his eyelashes would gently brush his face whenever he glanced down at the pages of your textbook, how easy he was to talk to (surprisingly), how gently your name would fall from his lips without any animosity.
Even if the conversation was solely for the project (at least in the beginning), it felt���nice surprisingly. It wasn’t like high school all over again, it was something fresh.
But by the time you found yourself opening up to the possibility of connecting with Megumi, the project was almost completed. It was already time for it to be submitted, so surely it wasn’t a need for your paths to be crossing again right?
You tried to convince yourself that the only reason the pit in your stomach grew was because of your nerves concerning your grade- not because of the thought of drifting away from him. It made you laugh- you would have never pictured the day that you would worry about your relationship with Megumi Fushiguro, let alone actually consider having one with him.
But you wouldn’t notice that he was facing the same internal struggle.
He only put on with you in the beginning to get the project out of the way. He’s dealt with worse and it was only for a semester, so he would bear with it for the time being. But when he was able to see past the sufferable image he had of you and see…well, you- it was eye opening to say the least. His friends would tease him about the distracted look he would always have now whenever he was out, and he realized that when he became lost in his thoughts involving you.
The moment Megumi spotted a genuine smile actually meeting your eyes, he felt a strange sensation grow in his chest, and he started to have doubts if he truly hated you anymore.
And his conflict only continued throughout the weeks. The time he found himself dreading to spend with you soon turned into not wanting to leave, much to his shock.
You both could only pretend that everything was fine for so long, and it was only a matter of time before the truth would come out.
You both deviated far off of the original script.
But you found yourself being okay- and so did he.
Even now, just gazing at him outside of your apartment, you didn’t want this to be the last moment that you spend with Megumi.
And from the way his lips connected with yours, he felt the same.
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nolita-fairytale · 1 year
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carmen 'carmy' berzatto masterlist
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Thee Carmy x Reader 'Make My Heart Surrender' Universe (In Chronological Order):
comfort & chaos (prequel to make my heart surrender)
a series of vignettes: the five times carmen berzatto fell in love with you a little and the one time he finally told you. (completed)
october 2019 | covid & carbonara | heat waves | 2/22/22** | called you again | home**
the phone call (blurb - the phone call that gets reader to chicago in the first place)
make my heart surrender
after quitting your job at the restaurant you both used to work at, carmy asks you to come in and work with his pastry chef at his new spot, the bear. only, the longer you stick around, it becomes clear that you have unfinished business. will one week in chicago change your life, and his, forever? (completed)
tuesday | wednesday | thursday | friday (**18+ for smut) | saturday/sunday | monday | tuesday, again | the playlist
home (final chapter from comfort & chaos - **smut)
try a little tenderness (fluff & angst blurb)
cigarettes & coffee (fluffy blurb)
strawberries & cigarettes (fluffy blurb)
j is for james beard... and for jealousy (**smut oneshot | 18+ only)
your past and mine are parallel lines (fluff oneshot)
pov: carmy makes people magazine's sexiest chef alive list (fluff blurb)
bad moon rising (what if/angst-shot -- guest starring mikey berzatto)
sister-in-law (fluff oneshot -- guest starring natalie berzatto)
still into you (sequel to make my heart surrender)
you, syd, marcus, and carmy return to where it all began: new york city, prompting you and carmy to think a lot about your past... and your future together. (completed)
thursday | **bonus smut scene | friday | saturday | sunday | it's perfect, chef (**bonus smut scene)
don't want to walk alone
the long awaited wedding fic for carmy x reader in the make my heart surrender universe. this six part series chronicles the wedding planning, your (not) bachelorette party, the wedding, and the honeymoon as you build a life with your husband-to-be. (completed)
june/july | august | september | the honeymoon pt 1 | the honeymoon pt 2 | epilogue: november
granola blurb
carmy as your baby daddy
a social media au & headcanon series detailing your first pregnancy with carmy. created for the make my heart surrender universe, but can be read as a standalone work. this has been created in collaboration with @carmensberzattos & @allthefandomstogether , the graphic goddess. (completed)
part one | part two | part three | part four | give you my wild, give you a child (**smut-shot) | part five | part six | part seven
the social media au
scenes from the relationship & this story depicted as social media posts. won't always align with my other social media/moodboards.
part one | part two: first year of dating | part three |
extras/moodboards/headcanons/imagines:
your life as a pastry chef in chicago while dating carmy (moodboard & headcanon)
meeting mikey in another lifetime (headcanon)
pov: you're marrying carmen berzatto (moodboard)
honeymoon lingerie moodboard
christmas with carmy moodboard & blurb
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The Bear: Unrelated to Make My Heart Surrender:
(nothing here YET but working on it)
so my darling | sydney adamu x male!chef oc
jealous!carmy & jealous!luca headcanon
stargazing with marcus brooks (blurb)
sneaking around with carmy (blurb)
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simpee9000 · 11 days
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Too Easily - Katsuki Bakugo -
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Based off this Blurb
It was too easy, every part of it. How you met him, how you interacted with him, how quickly he got used to you. Every part of it was too easy, too good to be true. But he asked you anyway, he wanted you anyway. You figured it was just another thing in life that came easily. He showed you another way of living, the thrill of romance. The increased heartbeat that came when next to a crush. The a flutter in your stomach when he called your name. The buzz of warmth that covered your entire being after just one kiss. CW: swearing and i think that's it? Word Count: 7.4k
General Studies was no easy task. It was assignment after assignment. Making you do ten times the amount of work any other school had regular students doing. UA wasn't only a prestigious hero school, but an overall school. If you could get in, in any way possible, you were deemed important in society.
A messed up social construct because it didn't take only intelligence but also wealth and connections with people on the school board. Nonetheless, you got in and stayed at a good standpoint for your class. Within the top three overall, if you weren't first when hero students weren't involved.
You were known across the school for how you aced every test with flying colors. Maybe you weren't the most known, since the hero students got all the praise, but right out of that, you were the most known.
It used to be Shinso, due to his 'villainous' quirk. But when he was transferred to the hero course in the second year, all the talk switched to you. It was something you were used to though. Your parents were well-known CEOs so it was nothing compared to the fame they had. Just whispers being spoken wherever you were.
You were close friends with Shinso, and still are, stopping to talk with him in the halls and going to his common room to help him study every once in a while. It gave you more connections to the hero world, and with your parents' advice in life, you made any connection possible. Life was filled with stepping stones, all hard work built into any action, and profit.
When you were with Shinso, a genuine friend of yours, you took time to talk with his friends. Ones who crossed your path when in his busy common room. Normally it was Kaminari who bugged the two of you, and he wasn't much to build off. Sero as well, who mainly flirted with you quietly. Kirishima was a good one to talk with, there was actual conversation there. Same with Deku.
Avoiding conversation wasn't easy in the common area, but you and Shinso also knew only rumors would come if you went to his room. So the two of you adapted, making the people who bugged you, join in and study as well.
That's how you met the infamous Katsuki Bakugo. He was only trying to get his headphones back from Kirishima, but an interruption was an interruption. The group yelling at him to sit down, the group being Kaminari and Mina. You could care less if he stayed or went, the rule was set for the people who consistently bugged you.
"I said two fucking words," Bakugo seethed.
"Don't care," Kaminari pointed to the set, acting like a strict parent with how he raised his chin, "Rules are rules Kacchan."
"This stupid-"
"Bakugo sit the fuck down," Mina added.
"Who do you think you are?" Bakugo raised his arm at her.
You watched annoyed at the bickering, he would definitely apply to the rule now. You looked over your work as they snapped back and forth, wanting to avoid an argument with him. Throughout all three years of high school, his reputation stayed the same. As angry and explosive as ever, and that's after calming down slightly in the first year.
"Bakugo," Kirishima sheepishly spoke out, "You're only making things worse. She's had this rule set for the past month. You're going to go study anyway, just join us."
"Fucking ridiculous," the blonde grumbled, throwing his bag on the table and aggressively pulling out a seat next to you. "I'm not staying long," he bit out, towards you.
You raised a brow and looked at him, "You're disruptive anyway."
He tsked at you, opening his book and throwing down the same worksheet everyone else had out. The sheet that Shinso finished an hour ago, with your help. Shinso was now far ahead on his English essay.
The group took over their silence once again. Kaminari and Mina, the most annoying ones, deep into their math work.
"Kaminari!" you scolded, seeing him lift his phone for a math problem, "You're going to become a hero by cheating?"
"No," he pouted like a puppy.
Before you could, Bakugo took Kaminari's phone, shoving it in his pocket. "How many times do you have'ta be yelled at to fuckin' stop?" Bakugo hissed.
"Sorry," Kaminari shrunk in his seat.
"I'll help you," you sighed, getting up to stand.
Bakugo glared at you, "I can fuckin' do it."
"I've already finished the sheet, I know how to do it," you assured, acknowledging the looks from the table.
"Who the fuck even are you?" he looked you over.
You were used to the everyday person glaring at you, out of jealousy, out of disgust, it didn't matter. But from someone who was expected to be one of the top heroes, from someone in the Big Three? It was something else. You only let yourself shrink in slightly, still saying your name confidently. Surely he would have heard you're name by now, right?
"Hah?"
"I'm going to be the valedictorian? You can't be that socially blind," you blinked at him.
His face settled into recognition, turning to glare at Shinso next, "Is that how you're getting better scores?! You little shit!"
The aggression was off you quicker than you thought. Everyone else turned their attention off you now, not caring what Bakugo would say now that he was talking to a classmate. More so yelling with how Shinso was giving him a lazy smirk back at him.
Before you could get roped back into the conversation you stepped over to Kaminari to help him with the first question on the page. It didn't surprise you that he needed help, he often needed help in math.
What did surprise you though, was Bakugo grumbling to himself when you sat back down in your seat. Not letting you settle in before he poked your forearm with his pencil, nodding his head to his paper when you looked at him.
You leaned into his space slightly and looked over his paper. He moved his pencil over the question, the same one that stumped Shinso. He was looking anywhere but his paper ignoring the fact that he was asking for help.
When you took a breath before starting to talk you instantly got a sharp glare and his hand shoving paper into your hand. Scratch paper was shoved into your space, his pencil being tossed along with it. You gave him a look that read 'seriously' to his reaction. He just gave you a firmer glare. You sighed as you wrote down the steps for him, looking over his work and circling the spots he got wrong. He only messed up on the middle step, something you almost did.
Passing the paper was also a task, he waited until he was sure no one was looking before he snagged it back. His eyes lit up with a flash of annoyance as he saw his simple mistake.
"Hey," Shinso called out to you, dragging your attention away from the blonde, "I think I'm done for the day. I don't wanna write anymore."
You looked at the time, it was barely passing 8 pm, and you'd been working since six. "Fair," you nodded, knowing not everyone was up to studying for hours at a time, "How much did you do?"
"I'm only missing a page now," he stretched out, "It's not due for a week."
"The sooner you're done-"
"The sooner you can forget about it," Shinso rolled his eyes, "I know, not like you say it every time."
"I could say it more," you huffed, grabbing your textbooks and putting them in your bag. Shinso did the same, putting his stuff away much quicker before he said his goodnights, patted your back, and left.
"Am I free?" Mina gave you puppy eyes.
"Yeah, I need to get to my dorm," you smiled at her, watching as everyone at the table sighed in relief and packed up. Taking their leave soon after.
You stayed without much thought. Bakugo was still at the table, clearly wanting to finish his paper now. You didn't want to leave him in case he needed help, it was something you did for all of them.
Only when everyone was gone did he raise his head, quickly taking in that it was only you and him left.
"Thanks, Books," he said gruffly. You knew he was one to give nicknames, having heard him yell a few in the common room, hallways, or sports festivals.
You also knew he wasn't one to hand out thanks. "No problem," you nodded at him, seeing him shove his books into his bag. "You're going to rip your work if you do that, you know?"
"Like I care."
"You should, I wouldn't be surprised to know if you've had to redo homework for that reason only," you stood up, "A folder could save you from taking time out of your training."
He glared at you, showing that you read him like a book, "Whatever," he scoffed.
---
There was no surprise seeing him in the common rooms more, or him helping your small study group. It was all welcomed, he could answer all the small questions when you were already busy. Although he took a different approach than you. Rather than calmly explaining, he yelled.
The surprise only hit when he approached you right after class. Everyone lingering in the hall still debriefing from class that ended only moments ago.
He's been the talk of school recently as well. Having gone nuts when an interviewer asked him personal questions. Ranging from how his parents were to how many people he's slept with. With him being freshly eighteen, it was disgusting. It is disgusting in general but it only gives you a good look at the way society views heroes.
It spread beyond just that, everyone watching the interview and taking it among themselves. Trying to figure out who Bakugo was dating or why he wasn't dating anyone. Piecing together any action he made towards anyone. Trying to say he was dating one of his classmates or someone he was interning with. It was annoying even for you, no one wanted to talk about anything other than his dating life. It was infuriating.
So him showing up at your class out of nowhere confused you even more. With all the rumors going around you expected him to stick to himself, like he was doing for the past week.
"Bakugo?" you asked, seeing him leaning on the wall across the door to your class. You knew you were the only one that knew him personally, in your class.
"Books," he said shortly, kicking himself off the wall and walking towards you, meeting you halfway, in the middle of the hallway.
"Do you need to talk about something?" you tilted your head, confused, "We can go to your common room, I was heading there anyway."
"Nah," he shook his head, putting his hands in his pockets. Casual as ever.
You looked around at the crowd that gathered around you. "Then what do you need?" you asked quietly, wanting to avoid people hearing your conversation.
"Go on a date with me," he ordered more than asked, face plain but voice loud enough for everyone to hear. He gave you nothing to read off.
"Excuse me?" you asked meekly.
"Go on a date with me."
"Bakugo-"
"You stupid or somethin'?" he asked, now annoyed.
"No, I'm just confused," you worded slowly, trying to piece together why he did this suddenly. Is this why he started studying with you? Despite already knowing his stuff and hardly needing help.
"Will you?" he shuffled his footing, going more ridged and less relaxed.
You blinked, looking around quickly at the audience who was now holding their breath, "Yeah," you said breathlessly, "I- sure."
"Good," he relaxed again, "I'll meet you at your dorm room."
He didn't let you add anything before he was walking away, the crowd parting for his exit before rushing up to you.
"You know Bakugo?"
"He likes you?"
"Did you put a spell on him?"
"Hire him?"
"Buy him out?"
"What's your secret?"
Knowing how to manage the media, you did what you were taught. School your expression and walk away, give nothing but keep your head high.
You dealt with people bugging you until you were at your dorm, only at safety when you locked your door behind you. You didn't even tell Bakugo your dorm number, and he didn't have your number. How he was going to get to you, you had no clue.
Your phone buzzes violently in your bug, Shinso calling you.
"You and Bakugo?" he asked immediately when you answered. Word got around quick. It's only been twenty minutes and people knew.
"Apparently? I don't know?" you ran your hands through your hair, trying to think of an outfit for something you didn't even know of.
"How do you not know?"
"Shinso," you placed him on speaker, going through your closest, "He just came to my class and asked me out in front of everyone."
"I know, that's how I found out. But seriously?"
"Yeah," you settled on a semi-formal outfit, hitting the line of whatever was appropriate.
Shinso paused in thought, "He didn't act any different around you though."
"I know," you sighed in frustration, "All he did was ask my help, apparently that means he's into me?"
"He asked for help?"
"Barely," you shuffled out of your clothes, throwing on the outfit in a rush, unsure when Bakugo would pick you up.
Shinso hummed, "He never asks for help, so fuck, maybe he does like you. Be careful though."
You laughed lightly, brushing your hair with your fingers to make sure it was still presentable, "It's Bakugo, not some kind of monster."
"He's unpredictable," Shinso warned.
"I'll be fine Shinso," you brushed off his worries. Changing into a different topic of your day. Mainly listening to him rant about a new game he bought.
A sudden knock made you jump out of your chair, whispering goodbye to Shinso before hanging up.
You opened the door with a polite smile, greeting Bakugo, who was dressed in a similar manner as you.
"Ready?" he asked. You grabbed your keys and locked your dorm room behind you, stepping into the hall that not only Bakugo occupied. The rest of your class was camping outside your room. You glare at them in response, it was rude to be this nosey.
"Yeah, where to?" you asked, looking unsure around your class.
The name of one of the most popular restaurants rattled out of his mouth.
"Bakugo, that place is a fortune-"
"I've got the money."
"It really isn't necessary."
"It is if it's for you," he said smoothly, something completely unexpected from him. Maybe he wasn't as harsh as he put on.
With no more argument coming from you, he grabbed your hand and pulled you to the elevator, finally out of the eyes of your peers.
"I don't think I'm dressed for this," you said honestly as you looked down. You'd meet the dress code easily, but it was still a well-established restaurant.
"You look fine."
You blushed warmly at that. You've been told all about his character in passing. He didn't just throw out things without meaning. "Thanks," you mumbled, following him as he left the elevator.
---
He was an easy person to talk to. No awkward silences that couldn't be filled. Nothing bad to note over the entirety of dinner. He was a gentleman, and it was surprising. Even when the press started annoying you midway through, he didn't fuss. Just told you to ignore them and continue eating. Barely giving them a second glance as he talked to you more. Seemingly curious about how your dumb presentation did.
"Thank you for listening to all my school stuff," you turned to him as you walked back to your dorm, him insisting he needed to walk you back. Despite the guaranteed safety of a hero school. "You're probably the only hero student who can keep up."
"You act like hero students are behind."
"You're in the same math class as Kaminari, it's not hard to claim that I'm leagues ahead in that field," you smiled at him, not wanting to offend him.
"Whatever," he shrugged off.
You turned back to look at the direction you were walking, you still had a couple of minutes, "Thanks for inviting me out, I'm cooped up too much."
"No problem," he said back softly, sharing your tone, "Thanks for agreeing I guess."
"I hardly agreed to anything, more so got ordered," you laughed.
The weather was nice as you walked back. Clear skies, low winds, but cold.
"Ya cold?"
"Kinda," you replied, crossing your arms to warm yourself as you focused on walking.
"C'mere, idiot," he called to you, shrugging off his jacket when you were near, throwing it over your shoulders before continuing to walk like nothing happened.
"Thank you," you said shyly, not used to being catered to, especially by him. Many have asked you out before, none of them interesting or it was easy to tell they had bad intentions, Bakugo's the first to not.
He shrugged off the appreciation, letting silence cover the conversation for a moment.
"You want to know something?" you spoke out, watching how your steps hit the ground at the same time as his.
"Hm?"
"I expected you to be a lot different."
"How?"
"Well in the sports festival you're an animal," you pointed out.
"I'm not an animal," he shook his head in disbelief.
You turned to face him, face deadpan, "You fucking growled at the camera."
Bakugo barked out a laugh at the memory. Though the laugh was violent, it was warming to hear, your smile widening.
"You even bit the cameraman," you added on to the memory, anything to keep him laughing.
"You saw what he did right?" he spoke filled with laughter.
"No?"
"Dude wagged a red flag in front of the camera so I'd look over."
"No!" you gasped, laughter breaking through.
"So I fuckin' showed him an animal."
His expression was cocky with a humorous smile, a laugh still following his words as he guided you to continue moving by your elbow.
"All the interviewers do that shit."
"Hm?" you hummed for him to continue.
"Get in your face, want you to act a certain way. Fuckin' tired of it," he huffed, shoving his hands in his pockets.
"Yeah," you were warmed by how he spoke so freely, "They always ask ridiculous questions too," you added on.
"You've been interviewed?" he side-eyed you as you walked.
"Plenty of times, my parents are huge CEOs so they want to know who's next up," you answered any follow-up question he could have, used to others questioning you all about it.
"Gross."
You laughed lightly, "Definitely, the interviews are always so unsettling. Asking every personal question ever," you brought it up just to try to show him you understood him.
"You got no idea, sweets," the tack of a nickname made you flush. Looking away briefly when other students pass by you.
Not wanting the conversation to stop you continued, "I might not to your extent of course, but I've had my fair share."
"Really? What's the worst thing you've been asked?" he challenged.
"If I was willing to have sex with other CEOs in order to expand the company," you gave him a straight face.
He gave a disgusted look in return, "People like that need to be locked up."
"Yeah, hopefully you'll clear the streets for us," you bumped his shoulder with yours, "but what's the worst thing you've been asked?"
"If I fucked Endeavour's sidekick." You cringed in reply. "That, and they always ask my cup size."
A laugh ripped from your throat, your hand slapping up to his arm in response, "No way! Me too!"
He rolled his eyes, "Fuckin' pervs."
Conversation was easy between the two of you, sharing interview questions until you got to your dorm. Him opening all the doors for you on the way there, causing you to blush each time.
Few people scatter your hallway when you get back, turning their attention on you.
"Again next week?"
"Sorry?" you asked confused.
He furrowed his brows, "Did you not have a good time?"
"No, I did," you corrected, "I'm just surprised you're wanting another."
"Of course, I want another," frustration was slowly coming out of his voice, "So will you go on another date with me? Next week?"
"I- yeah," you nodded.
"Gimme your phone," he put his hand out, typing his number in roughly when you gave it to him. "I'll text you."
"Yeah," you were breathless, this didn't feel real.
"You're going to be at my common area tomorrow, right?" his face gave away absolutely nothing, brushing off the idea of a date so casually.
"Yeah," you were too stunned to form more words. He wanted not one, but two dates. And was curious what you were doing the next day. You were never one to fan girl, but with the looks he had, it was hard not to.
"Good, I'll be around," he said shortly, moving to step away.
"You're jacket," you blurted, "I need to give it back."
"Keep it."
He walked away before you could even pull it off your shoulders.
Not wanting the stares of classmates, you quickly hid yourself in your room. Letting the giddy emotions consume you. The rush of emotions from the date were running wild, and you knew better than to show those in front of him, let alone in public.
---
The giddy feeling didn't leave the next day, buzzing in your heart as you went through each class. Unbothered by the people who tried to be nosey or the first years who threatened you. It was all filled with the rushing thoughts, the curiosity you felt when Bakugo said he'd see you today.
Adding a pep to your step as you made your way into his common room, setting up your stuff to study with Shinso.
"Nice ass, I got a real good angle here."
You slapped down your uniform skirt as you straightened your posture. "Gross Mineta," you spat when you turned around to face him.
"Just enjoying the view, wish it was more than a view, like an object-"
You glared at him sharply, "I'm not an object." He was acting worse than the interviewers.
"Not yet-"
"Not ever," you seethed. When you watched his eyes widen you felt relieved to have scared him.
"The fuck happening here?" Bakugo's voice rang out, clearly being the reason Mineta was afraid.
"Nothing," Mineta groaned, "Gotta ruin the fun. Maybe later mamas," Mineta winked at you. A full-body cringe shuttered through you.
"I'll fuckin' kill you," Bakugo stepped closer, Mineta running away in response.
"Thanks-"
"Aren't you usually here at 6?" he cut you off.
"Oh," you clasped your hands behind your back, slightly swaying, "I thought I'd stop by earlier, to see you," you added sheepishly.
"Good thinkin'," he smirked, "Want to-"
Shinso's heavy steps turned your attention. "Hi, Shinso!" you greeted happily, you had so much to tell him.
"It's a bit early," he turned his head to the clock.
"She came to see me," Bakugo answered for you.
"Well not entirely- I'm still going to study at 6," you confirmed.
That night all you did was go over the English book Bakugo's class was reading in the privacy of his dorm. Nothing more, nothing less. However, he did apologize for Mineta.
---
The next month or so followed in a similar footing. Amazing dates filled with heartful talks, even ones that were had to talk about. With him it was easy. Laughing and smiling was easy.
Even the stupid date you were on right now.
"Y'know you should call me by my name."
He had to be joking. You were in the middle of a nice dinner date in his common room, with food he made. "Really? Are seriously trying to get me to call you Dynamight-"
"No idiot-" he huffed looking down at his hands for a second. He was holding his weight on the counter as he stood across from you, leaning into his palms. "I mean Katsuki."
"Oh," you blushed, "Yeah, I guess that'd make sense," you laughed shyly.
His eyes flickered to the common room. Mina, Toru, and Kaminari were all sitting there, obviously spying on you and Bakugo.
"Your cooking is great," you blurted out, wanting his attention instead.
"Hm?" he looked back to you, "Do y'like the spice? I can add more if ya can handle it."
Even after letting you call him by his given name, the conversation stayed easy between you two. Taking steady bites of your meal between talking, trying to ignore the three in the common room.
Throughout the conversation, Bakugo took your empty plate and started washing it. Having you sat on the counter next to him.
"So gentlemen like," you teased as he dried the plate and put it way. He huffed, rolling his eyes when he stood in front of you again.
"Only for you," he spoke confidently, eyes flashing towards the common room before crowding into your space on the counter. Stepping between your spread legs and placing his hands beside your thighs.
You blush at his closeness, straightening your back to gain a few more inches of space, "Bakugo-"
"Katsuki," he corrected.
"Katsuki," you fumbled with his name, "What are you doing?" you whispered.
"What d'ya want me to do?"
Your eyes flashed to the group, embarrassed that you might have an audience. Too embarrassed that you couldn't reply, biting your lip when you looked back at him. Catching his eyes falling to your lips before looking back at your eyes.
He gave you a look and a small nod to see if you were okay, clear with the idea that he wanted to kiss you. When you gave a small nod in reply, he moved his hand up to cradle your cheek. 
Gently pulling you in for a kiss. Connecting your lips with a spark running up your spine. This was your first kiss, and it felt electric. A rush of adrenaline runs through your body at the contact.
When he pulled away you chased the kiss for a moment, letting your eyes slowly flutter open in confusion. His eyes were already on the three in the room over.
"Want to go to your dorm?" you offered, eager to continue kissing him, the thrill was something you think you'd chase for a lifetime.
"It's gettin' late," he glanced at his watch, "I got early training."
You pouted your lip, "Okay, text me?"
"Sure," he patted your thigh and stepped away. Making you blush once more before you hopped off the counter to leave.
---
The relationship between you two continued like that for a while, small kisses in public. All ones you were too shy to start yourself. Even when you wanted to be in the privacy of his dorm, but without his lead you felt blind.
Everyone on campus has seen you together and knows you're dating, but you felt unsure. It felt weird to have everyone think you're dating, but you didn't know entirely. Interviewers have asked him and he just shrugged it off with a smirk. It's never been discussed more, and you had nothing to go off. All that was discussed was a promised date every week and him being around when you tutored Shinso.
All except this time.
"Where's Katsuki?" you asked Shinso once you placed your stuff down.
"Bad interview, he's in his dorm," Shinso shrugged.
"That bad?" you frowned.
Shinso looked at you like you were stupid, "It's Bakugo, it's always bad."
"Hm," you hummed in thought, looking towards the elevator.
"Want to go see your boyfriend?" he rolled his eyes.
"He's not my boyfriend," you shushed.
"Yeah? Tell that to everyone else."
"It just hasn't been brought up between him and I," you confined to him slightly.
"Then ask? I don't know," he sassed.
"Come on Shinso, I'm lost here," you begged, "I've never dated anyone before. I don't know the rules."
"Rules?" Shinso laughed, "There's no 'rules' to dating."
"Help me out," you kicked at his chair.
"Just ask him what you are, he's probably too emotionally constipated to actually ask you out and want you to just know."
"That's embarrassing though."
"Toughen up."
With Shinso's horrible enthusiasm, you were knocking at Katsuki's door before you knew it.
"What?" Katsuki snapped when opening the door, clearly in a bad mood. 
Every emotion was running through your head. Scared? Excited? You name it. It's been three months of this unknown. Dating or not. You wanted to know, you wanted to make the small next steps. Have him as a boyfriend. To meet his mom. Spend more time with him. Call him more often. Kiss him more. All the practiced words wanted to fall right out of your mouth. 
You closed your open mouth, recovering from your thoughts and the aggressive way he opened the door. He was still glaring at you confused. "I- um-"
"Spit it out."
You took a deep breath, licking your lips lightly before letting the word vomit leave your mouth, "I want to know where we stand. Like are we dating? Are you my boyfriend?" you were wringing out your hands and rocking on your heels as you rambled, "Have we been dating? If not, I'd like to. You're such a good guy and just have helped me a lot, and I'd love to actually call you my boyfriend."
Katsuki blinked at you for a moment, his glare gone but the confusion was still painted across his face. 
"Huh?"
You blinked, "I like you Katsuki, and I want an actual relationship. Titles and all, you know?" With his face just scrunching up in more confusion, you gasped, hands covering your mouth, "God! You probably already think it's a relationship, huh? I'm so sorry- I didn't mean to-"
"You like me?" he cut you off.
"I thought that was obvious?" you laughed lightly, embarrassed as you peered up at him.
He shuffles how we was standing, crossing his arms, a confused look gracing his features, "We were just dating to get rid of the fuckin' rumor. I thought y'know?"
Color drained from your face, "Oh!"
Not being able to stand any more of this mortifying experience, you turned on your heels and walked away.
Walking all the way until you were almost out of the Common room.
"You look like you saw a ghost," Shinso stopped you in your tracks.
"Heh," you forced a laugh, eyeing the door with want.
"Go that bad?" Shinso frowned.
"You have no idea.
---
That night was rough. A long shower helped you process everything. All the group outings, all the public displays of affection, not bothering to spend time together unless you were out in public, even if you were in his dorm, everyone knew. It had all been for the press, and it made complete sense. It was all he talked to you deeply about. It's why he thanked you at the beginning of all this.
And yet, despite you being the valedictorian, you were too stupid to realize.
So now you were bawling your eyes out as you hugged your pillow. Feeling so incredibly dumb to think you could pull Kat- Bakugo. The future symbol of strength. You let yourself get so hopeful and wrapped up in the feelings, making yourself blind to the obvious. 
All the small kisses you shared felt like nothing now.
After that night, you picked yourself back up. No longer distracted by him, but more encouraged. You've spent the last three months studying until early in the morning rather than sleeping, all because you didn't want to decline when Bakugo invited you out. So now, you had time. So much of it that you were unsure what to do with it.
Bakugo gave you a week to cool down, not bothering you during your study sessions with Shinso, and not texting you either. You were relieved he was letting this embarrassing moment pass.
You were mad, anyone would be. Bakugo could have told you that it was fake, but no, he let you fall for him. He could of been direct, rather than assume.
"You okay?" Shinso nudged your arm when you were too zoned out on the elevator, fearful that the blonde would appear any moment.
"Hm? Yeah, just preoccupied with my thoughts," you answered automatically, turning your head away from the elevator. It's been a full two weeks, you should be over it by now.
Shinso looked over your shoulder, "Maybe we should leave," he rushed, packing his stuff.
"What? Did you finish already?"
"No, just come on," Shinso grabbed your stuff and packed up too.
"Shinso-"
He grabbed your wrist and dragged you to the elevator, trying to close the doors quickly. 
Only then did you notice Bakugo standing at the entrance, looking lost as he watched the elevator doors close.
---
Shinso was always a good friend like that, looking out for you. He's kept Bakugo from your view more times than you could count in the past two weeks. Shinso was probably more pissed than you.
You had just hung up on him, turning to sitting down at your desk and plotting down points for an essay you had to submit later this week. Always wanting to stay two steps ahead when possible.
A soft rattle of knocks drew your attention away from your work.
"Come in," you called out, turning off your studying music and taking off your headphones. Spinning your chair to see which classmate was bugging you for help now.
"Hey," Bakugo twisted the door open.
You rolled your eyes, "Close the door, unless you want people to hear."
He slowly shut the door behind him and put his hands in his pockets, "Mindfuck said I should-"
"If Shinso sent you to do anything, I don't want to hear it," you crossed your arms.
"That shithead doesn't dictate what I do-"
"But he could," you pointed out.
"Well he's not. Ain't how his quirk works."
"What do you want Bakugo?" you asked plainly, you didn't want to be dragged along again.
He sighed, "Look, I wanted to apologize. What I did was shitty."
"Very, but I don't care at this point," you covered up your emotions, brushing past every night you've cried these past two weeks, "Yeah, you broke my heart or whatever, but it wasn't intentional. Just- you go your way, I'll go mine."
He tightened his jaw, "If that's what you want."
"It is," you lied through your teeth. Moving your chair again to face your work. Ignoring him.
"You don't have to lie if anyone asks," he spoke awkwardly.
You gave him a quick glance, "I wasn't planning to." 
---
When he left once again, you felt relieved to have that conversation over. Wanting to bury the sad story of your first 'relationship.' 
Sticking to what you knew best, school. You breezed through each test. Earning any extra credit possible and going to any internship possible. Limiting your tutor hours to hours you knew Bakugo was busy.
Your resume was solid, you'd be graduating with an associate's degree and would immediately start work with your parents the second you graduated. All while working towards a master's degree. Not only did you fill up your current time, but you'd be busy after high school as well.
Even now you were often at your parents' office when school was over, getting prepared for your role there. You'd be the youngest boss to work there, and many people were pissed. How could a freshly graduated teenager get paid more than them?
With tons of hard work. All the hard work pays off when you actually graduate as Valedictorian. Having press all in your face when you gave your graduation speech to the class. Talking about the highs and lows. Mentioning the hero course and the courage they faced, even when people thought they weren't made for it. Most of the speech was for Shinso.
The press was crazy afterward, you didn't have a moment to yourself. While you thought the press would be small since UA was high security, you were wrong. They took the funding they could get, and in return, they let people in.
Mainly the hero course was being interviewed, but you got surrounded as well.
"Ma'am! Tell us how you got such a high job position?"
"How much money will you make?"
"I'd love to get your insider opinion on the heroes here?"
"Hard work earns a lot more than just money," you answered the first two questions, "While the Heroes here are outstanding. They'll do the world a lot of good."
"Do you know any of them personally?"
"A few in Class A," you smiled in reply. You needed press and this was a great way to get your name out.
"So are you still dating Dynamight?"
The question shocked you for a moment, you thought all that dropped when you and him argued. You guess they just thought you were distant because of work. Your eyes widened, immediately looking away from the interviewer so you could compose an answer.
Unforantly, Bakugo was getting interviewed right beside you. Making eye contact with you while the press hounded him. Flying through different questions about his relationship status.
"Ma'am?"
"Um," you stuttered, unsure what to do.
 Every press training you've gone through left your mind. Bakugo's helpless face replaced it instead. He hated the press, he hated dealing with an audience. But he hated it even more when it wasn't about his work. Hating when people asked personal things or assumed things because of his looks. 
"Excuse me, I need to go save my boyfriend."
You walked away quickly, faking your confidence in your walk as you made your way to him. Regretting your decision already but it's too late to go back now.
"Is this your girlfriend?" the press immediately switched to ask when you showed up to his side.
"No-"
"Yes," you grabbed his arm, giving him a glare, "Now, we have to go spend time with out families. Please excuse us." You smiled at the interviews, tugging Katsuki away from the mess of it all. "How do you fall for such a trap?" you yelled at him in a hushed tone, looking around to make sure no one was near.
"Huh?"
You spun to face him when you finally found some space. "When they start going down that path you switch the topic, not blank, and get angry."
"Well I'm sorry I'm not miss fuckin' perfect," you hissed at you, crossing his arms.
"You had media training!" you threw your hands up helplessly.
"Whatever, are you just going to yell at me?"
You bit your tongue before you yelled again, looking around instead. "Now we have to deal with the press thinking we're dating."
"I'll just tell them no-"
"That's stupid, I just blatantly told them we were," you huffed, "We'll just sit and wait for it to go away."
"That'll take forever-"
His mom stepped into your view.
"Why are you hiding?"
"I'm not," Bakugo crossed his arms, "Mind y'business."
"Are you his girlfriend I've been hearing about?" her sharp eyes landed on you.
"No-"
"Yeah," Bakugo glared at you this time instead.
"Oh!" She smiled brightly, ignoring how you said no, "You should join us for dinner!"
"Oh, no I shouldn't intrude," you shook your head, not knowing what you would do if you said yes.
"It's not intruding! Please, my boy hardly has anyone. I'd love to get to know the girl that stole his heart," she smiled warmly.
"Ma' she has family-"
"They're actually busy tonight, so I'd be free," you shrugged, liking seeing Bakugo get antsy. 
"Great!"
---
"I'd love to know how you guys got together," Mitsuki asked as you handed you a dish to plat your food.
You and Bakugo shared a look.
"I asked her out," he shrugged.
"More than that," she hissed in his direction.
"Well," you looked between the two, not wanting to witness a family argument, "We met from me tutoring someone in his class. Started to get to know each other in passing and he asked me on a date. Not too exciting," you replied instead as you dished up.
Mitsuki shook her head, "Boring as ever, I thought his father would raise him to be more romantic."
"Where is dad anyway?" Bakugo spoke just after swallowing an inhuman-sized bite of food.
"Work needed him, he after you saw him earlier," she spoke to Bakugo before turning to you, "He'd love to meet you."
"Thank you for inviting me," you flushed.
"So, back to terms of your relationship," she started, gaining a groan from Bakugo, "I know he isn't too roped up in relationships often, the last girl he was with was in middle school! Are you the same? I know I wasn't at your age," she laughed kindly.
"Actual this is my first relationship," you poked at your food.
"The hell-"
"Watch your mouth!"
Bakugo turned to you fully, "You didn't tell me that."
You shrugged, "Never came up."
"Was I your first-"
"Kiss?" you finished for him, "Yeah."
Bakugo just stared a you for a moment, huffing before rubbing his hands over his face. Slamming his hands on the table and making his exit. Leaving you with his mom.
"He didn't know?"
You forced your eyes away from where he left, "No, we never really discussed it."
"Maybe it's time to?" She offered. A mom classic.
"I don't know," you looked down at your plate.
"He's a handful, I know, but just give him a shot."
With the way she was acting and the read on her personality, you got so far, you knew she'd slap him upside the head if she knew everything.
But maybe it wouldn't hurt to get everything out.
"I guess."
"He's room is upstairs to the right, first door."
You gave her a smile before excusing yourself.
Knocking at his door before you knew it. Just like the night.
"Fuck off."
"Bakugo," you opened the door regardless, he was holding his head in his hands, elbows on his knees as he sat on the side of his bed.
He looked up at you, "What?"
"Sorry I didn't tell you," you said honestly. You didn't fell bad about it before, mainly wrapped up in how he never told you anything.
"No- fuck, don't apologize," he stood up, "don't need to do that for me. I'm fucking sorry. I didn't know, you didn't deserve that."
You hummed for him to continue.
"I'd never of asked if I knew."
"Why did you ask me?" the question has been nagging at you since.
"Hah?"
"To fake date you, get the rumors to go away."
"You seemed least likely to snitch or freak out over it," with the way his shoulders fell, you could tell that he was saying the truth, "Your clean image also helped."
It made sense. The 'bad boy' dating the valedictorian to help graduate. So not only did you fall for the classic cliche of fake dating, but also dating the bad boy.
"You also caught my eye," he confessed, shifting his footing.
"Sure," you rolled your eyes. He likely didn't want you to call everything off. Flatter you so you stuck around for his image. You've seen it all before.
"I'm not fuckin' around."
"I don't want to hear it," you stopped him there, "I'm not falling for whatever trap you have planned."
"I didn't mean to trap you-"
"You could have told me that it was for the rumors, and I would have agreed. But no, you assumed I knew or something."
"Sorry."
"Are you?" you shot back, "Or is that to make sure I don't start 'rumors.'"
"Seriously books," he glared at you.
"What?" you glared at him, "You go from being upset that you were my first kiss, to saying I caught your eye anyway? If that was actually true you could have asked me out for real."
"Then go out with me-"
"Seriously Bakugo?" you looked at him annoyed, "How would I know now? I don't know you."
"Yes you do-"
"No I don't! I know you hate the press and that's it," you huff frustrated.
He thought for a moment, "You know I like spicy foods."
You laughed at how ridiculously this was, "Doesn't matter."
"I hate how I fuckin' sweat so much. I like working out, anything to get my adrenalin running-"
"Bakugo, whatever you're doing isn't going to work," you shook your head, "I can't let myself go into this again.
"Why not? I'm not in this for anything but you."
"There's still rumors," you sighed, "So I'll never be sure if it's for me or not."
"I wouldn't fucking do that."
"I don't know you Bakugo," you crossed your arms.
"This is fuckin stupid, I try and do what you said and you say no."
"I said I would agree then, not now. I can't just say yes to dating you when last time you rejected me."
"I didn't reject you."
"You just stood there! You didn't do anything but look at me confused! Never even brought it up after," you pointed out.
"You just sprung that on me, you can't spring shit on me and expect me to know how to react!"
You took a deep breath, "I didn't expect anything really, Just thought you'd say anything but what you did."
He glared at you, "You can't just force people to like you."
You looked to glare at the wall instead of him, "That's not what I meant and you know that. I wanted you to like me back sure, but I wasn't going to flip if you said no. The only reason I avoided you was because I was dating you the entire time you were fake dating me."
"So?"
"It's embarrassing," you confessed, "I don't want to do that again."
"Let me prove it to you."
"What?"
He stepped close to you, crossing through his surprisingly clean room, "I'll prove that this time isn't fake."
"How?" you laughed, "I don't think you can fix this."
"Lemme try."
"Fine," you challenge, out of curiosity. You couldn't get more hurt than you already were. Plus you'd be too busy for him to try anyway.
---
If you want a part 2 lmk! It'd likely have smut though! Just a btw! I never reread so I hope this lived up to the hype! I've been crazy busy!
@kcch-ns @saucypeanuttt @cyanide-pancakes @gold24fish @randomchaosyay @minkyungseokie @endlessfreaky @suki0 @lovra974 @okayiamkassandra @myrunawaysweets @pirana10 @ginevraxrogers @katbug37
Thank you guys for the love!! <3
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theemporium · 8 months
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[4.1k] when a last minute team meeting takes them to amsterdam, lando decides to take the opportunity to see what his teammate is like under the influence. (smut)
part two to this blurb that spiralled into landoscar smut somehow
.
It happened in Amsterdam. 
With a new sponsor on the rise and the team desperate to lock down the deal before the new season started, Lando and Oscar were asked to fly out to the Netherlands a few weeks before the car launch. It put a small damper on both men’s winter break plans, the last few days of freedom they had before they dived into work mode for the new season—but ultimately, neither boy complained. 
Oscar had felt bad for having to cancel your plans, knowing how excited you were about planning a few days for the two of you to spend some time alone together—away from the world, away from everyone. In all honesty, it was what he was looking forward to the most. He knew Formula One was different, that he would be busier than he ever had been in his life, but it never prepared him to be away from you for so long. 
So yeah, he was pretty fucking bummed about having to cut the trip out of his plans but he invited you with him to Amsterdam in hopes the two of you could make the best out of a bad situation. 
After all, Zak had only wanted them for a day or two, to just sit in meetings and play up some charm and confidence to give the sponsor the last push they needed to sign the deal with McLaren.
And, by some luck you swore was from a higher power, the deal had been negotiated and signed after a very long, tedious meeting. 
But Oscar didn’t complain, he couldn’t complain when it meant that he would have more time alone with you in a country he never really had the chance to explore beyond the race tracks and most famous sites.
It just seemed like Lando had a similar idea.
“I got the perfect place to check out,” Lando insisted as they walked out of the busy office building they had been stuck in for the last few hours. “Martin recommended it, said it was insane and a necessity to check out when we were in the city.”
Oscar tugged uncomfortably at the collar of his shirt, but the boy’s words had him intrigued. “And he’s never taken you before?” 
“Said it was best to visit in the off-season,” Lando replied, and the smile spread across his face did little to reassure Oscar’s suspicions about the mysterious place. “Bring your girl too! She will love it, Oscar. You both will.”
He raised his brows. “And you’re not going to tell me?”
“Be a little adventurous, Piastri,” his teammate teased, lightly nudging his shoulder as they headed towards their team-appointed cars. “Dress nice. We leave at eight.”
“I haven’t even agreed to anything,” Oscar pointed out, but the Brit didn’t seem all too bothered as he waved his teammate off before climbing into his car. 
Truthfully, it shouldn’t have surprised Oscar that you were up for the night out. Lando’s mysterious words intrigued you as much as they intrigued him, and you both trusted Lando enough that he wouldn’t be stupid enough to drag you somewhere dodgy. Hopefully. 
So, Oscar tried to push away the voice in the back of his head that said he should have asked more questions. He was a Formula One driver, he was used to control, he was used to always being the one in charge of his own fate. It felt weird to leave everything in the hands of Lando, even if he trusted his teammate more than he did with most people in his life. 
“Relax,” you murmured to him as you stepped between his legs, your hands resting on his shoulders as he waited for Lando to message he was waiting downstairs. “It’s one night.”
“I know, I’m excited,” Oscar answered honestly as his hands rested on the back of your thighs, trying not to think about the pretty, little dress you had slipped on for the night. He could have sworn he had never seen it before. A part of him was tempted to cancel the whole night and stay in to truly appreciate the dress. “It’s just the idea of Lando being in charge of everything…”
“Hm, you say that as though you don’t worship the ground he walks on,” you teased, smiling in amusement at the way his cheeks burned pink.
“I do not!” Oscar grumbled, but he was smiling back. “Okay, I do a little. But it’s Lando…he’s my first teammate in Formula One. He is just—”
“I know,” you murmured with a smile, leaning down to peck his lips. “And he cares about you. So relax and trust the fact that he was excited to check this place out with you.” 
The place in question—the one that Martin insisted Lando needed to check out—turned out to be something straight out of a Bond movie. 
Oscar hadn’t even managed to catch the name when Lando had muttered it to their driver, a giddy smile on his face as he turned back to look at you and Osacr in the back seat. He was excited, buzzing in his seat as he rambled off about random topics could barely even keep up with as he watched the city pass by in a blink through the window. 
It was an exclusive club, not very well-known but a local treasure to those who knew of it. One of those places in movies where you knocked on a steel door and grumbled out a password. The kind of places that you expected to feel dodgy and cautious and like you were making the biggest mistake for stepping into the establishment. One of those places that two high-profile athletes should definitely never be caught in. 
But Lando just turned to him, that stupidly huge grin on his face as he threw an arm over his shoulder and dragged him inside. 
“Relax, Piastri, nobody is gonna care who you are in here!”
And honestly, the thought shouldn’t have been as appealing as it was to him.
But despite the many warnings he received about stepping up as a Formula One driver, Oscar never really wrapped his head around how famous he was. He had his fair share of internet spotlight on him throughout his career, he was used to being recognised every once in a while. But being a Formula One driver—a McLaren one, nonetheless—was a whole new level.
People stopped him in the streets and asked for photos. His face was blasted on huge posters in airports and cities he hadn’t visited before. Every aspect of his life was constantly under a microscope now. He had fans and followers all around the world, not just from his home country. He had a level of fame he couldn’t even conceptualise. 
He had a level of fame he wasn’t even sure he wanted. 
His whole life he just wanted to drive. He just wanted to get behind the wheel and achieve the dream he had been chasing after since he was a young boy. He just wanted to do what he loved, what he had been passionate about since before he could even remember. 
It just came in a package deal with having more attention that he preferred, so the very idea of stepping foot into this exclusive club and nobody caring he was Oscar Piastri? Yeah, that sounded really fucking good.
Your arm wrapped around his biceps as you followed the Brit deeper into the club. It was dark—darker than a usual club—with red-tinted lights surrounding the place, adding a soft hue that was just enough to see a few steps ahead of you. The music thumped through the building, like the bass lived in the walls as it sounded throughout the place. 
There was no bar. And the dance floor wasn’t really a dance floor. It felt like a stage, placed right in the middle of the room for people to ogle and observe. The whole place was surrounded in these dimly lit booths, large enough that they almost felt like a room. 
The whole place was fucking weird and nothing like he expected. 
And maybe that was what thrilled Oscar about the whole situation. 
“Where do we order our drinks?” He had asked as they made their way to the far left corner, the furthest place from the door. The surrounding booths were empty but Lando still chose the one right in the corner as he flopped down onto the large cushioned sofas. 
He watched as you and Oscar took the seat across from him as he grinned. 
Oscar raised his brows. 
“We are in fucking Amsterdam,” Lando snorted, something glinting in his eyes that even the dim, red lights seemed to pick up. “You don’t come here to get shit-faced drunk, Oscar.”
You laughed, shaking your head. “You brought us to your dodgy club to get stoned?”
“Best in the city, baby,” Lando said, the smile on his face widening as he leaned back against the cushions, comfortable and settled with his legs spread a little wider than he usually would. “A little birdie told me Oscar was the kind of man you wanted to smoke with.”
Oscar raised his brows. “You sound surprised by that.”
“Let’s just say there aren’t many sides to you that I don’t think I’ve already seen,” Lando answered with a simple shrug before he raised his hand, catching the attention of a waitress Oscar didn’t even notice was walking by.
And maybe it was immoral. Or sneaky. Or whatever you wanted to call it. 
Maybe it wasn’t the most truthful way to experience it but Lando Norris was a fucking curious man and the opportunity fell right into the palm of his hand. Because Logan Sargeant’s words had been ringing in his head like a loop since that night in the club, his eyes being opened to a whole new side of his younger teammate and he wanted to see more. 
He wanted to know who Oscar Piastri was under all the layers he seemed to put up when he was sober.
And with the team dragging them to Amsterdam and Martin having told him about this club with the assurance that it suddenly wouldn’t be plastered over the front page in the morning that they were indulging in recreational drugs before the season started…well, Lando couldn’t just ignore it, could he?
It wasn’t noticeable at first and, for a brief moment, Lando wondered if the American was just pulling his leg about the whole situation. He wondered if Logan had just seen his shock to clingy, touchy Oscar when he was drunk and needy and thought it would be hilarious to just add fuel to the fire that night for his own amusement. 
Because one joint in and Oscar seemed like he had hours ago in the meeting room, dressed in a fancy suit and looking slightly out of his comfort zone. 
But time passed and the edges of his own brain began to feel fuzzy, and Lando started noticing it. He noticed the way Oscar seemed to squirm in his seat, the way his eyes lingered on your mouth as you took a drag from the joint. He noticed the way Oscar’s arm had dropped from around your shoulder to his hand firmly being placed on the bare skin of your thigh instead. He watched as Oscar pressed his body close to yours until there wasn’t an inch of your side that wasn’t touching his.
And then, Oscar was leaning in, his lips skimming past your ear and instantly dropping to your neck like he didn’t even care Lando was there.
Lando couldn’t even bring himself to feel all that guilty as he watched the display, something deep in his gut twisting in desire.
Your eyes fluttered shut as the boy’s lips latched onto your neck, a small sigh leaving your lips as he began to press soft, open-mouthed kisses along your skin. His hand squeezed your thigh, gripping onto it like it was a lifeline as he continued to kiss lower and lower until his lips were brushing against the fabric of your dress. 
“Oscar,” you murmured as you raised your hand, fingers threaded through his hair but the boy didn’t stop as he nosed the edge of your dress, his lips dangerously close to your cleavage. 
“Want you,” the Aussie murmured, something like a whine sounding from the back of his throat as he nipped the fabric with his teeth. “Please.” 
“Baby,” you choked out a noise, your eyes snapping open like you finally seemed to remember Lando was there. You felt breathless as your eyes met his, the dim light making it difficult to read the expression on his face but you could have sworn you saw something quite like desire in his gaze. “Lando is—”
“Not complaining,” the Brit finished for you, his voice a little rougher and even he wasn’t sure if it was from the smoking or the sight in front of him. 
Oscar blinked as he lifted his head, his cheeks flushed and his eyes a little red. He looked at you before he shifted his eyes to Lando, his gaze dragging over his teammate. He should have removed himself from you, should have pulled his hand away and slid away—but he remained exactly where he was. 
“Don’t be shy, Oscar,” Lando murmured, and something in the Aussie’s chest sparked. “You wanna touch your girl, then who am I to stop you from making her feel good.”
“You gonna watch?” Oscar asked. 
“Do you want me to leave?” Lando retorted. 
“No.”
Lando’s smirk slowly widened. “Yeah? You two gonna put on a little show for me?”
Oscar blinked before he turned to look at you. His whole body felt like it was on fire, like there were flames coursing through his veins and burning him alight and he never wanted to stop. But as he looked at you, eyes glossy or not, one word from you and he would stop this whole thing, regardless of his own feelings on the matter.
You were his first priority. You were always his first priority.
“You wanna, baby?” He murmured, just low enough for it to only be heard by the two of you. 
“I think,” you swallowed thickly as your eyes traced over your boyfriend’s face, as the bubbling desire and strong urge to clench your legs together washed over you with the heat of Lando’s gaze on you. “It would be the polite thing to do.” 
Oscar tucked his bottom lip between his teeth. 
“Show him how good you make me feel,” you murmured as his grip on your thigh tightened in response. 
And when you couldn’t resist anymore, your eyes snapped over to where Lando was sitting. There was something thrilling about the sight, something your fuzzy brain couldn’t begin to comprehend but your body sure as hell did. There was something about him sitting across from you both, legs spread and eyes focused on the two of you as he watched in silent appreciation. 
It felt dirty. It felt wrong. It felt like the last thing the three of you should be doing in a random club in Amsterdam. And yet, none of you wanted to stop. 
Lando watched in delight the way a choked gasp left your lips as Oscar tugged the neckline of your dress down, as his lips attached to the newly exposed skin. Your hand moved back to thread through his hair, tugging softly as he pulled your dress down until your tits were exposed. 
He watched as Oscar let out a groan at the sight, as his lips wrapped around your nipple. He watched as your head fell back, your boyfriend’s name a breathy moan past your lips as he continued to nuzzle himself between your tits. 
“Would’ve never taken you as a tits man, Oscar.” Lando’s voice was rough and low, something that shouldn’t have made the whole situation hotter but it did. “Can’t blame you though, can I? Your girl has such pretty tits, would be a crime to ignore them.”
A whine sounded from the back of Oscar’s throat. 
Lando’s eyes fell from your flushed face to the hand on your thigh. He watched as Oscar continued to push the hem of your dress further up until he got impatient and allowed his hand to slip beneath the skirt. He watched as Oscar groaned something incoherent against your skin, as you shifted your hips enough for him to pull your panties down your legs with a speed that was almost impressive. 
He hardly had time to blink before he felt the soft thump against his leg, as he looked down to see your panties balled up and now resting on his lap after Oscar had thrown them. 
Lando let out a dark chuckle, his head falling back. “You little shit.” 
But Oscar didn’t pay him any attention. Oscar didn’t pay attention to anything but you and the feeling of you beneath his lips and touch. His brain was fuzzy, his thoughts were muddled and all he knew was that he really, really fucking wanted to taste you. 
Yet, you didn’t seem to share Oscar’s one-track mind.
“Not fair that we’re the only ones who get to have fun,” you murmured, your eyes watching him closely as Lando eyed the pair of panties, seeming to contemplate so many racing thoughts in his head before he reached for them. “Maybe I want a show too.”
Lando’s eyes found yours in the dark. “Yeah?” 
“Mhm,” it was a little high-pitched as Oscar’s thumb pressed against your clit. “Yeah. Please.”
He let out a groan. “Still so fucking polite when he is all over you.”
You weren’t even sure where the spark of confidence came from—maybe from the way he was watching you and Oscar so eagerly—but your mouth opened before you could stop yourself. “Jealous?” 
“Maybe.”
You swallowed thickly, your fingers tugging on Oscar’s hair as you watched Lando’s hand drop to the obvious bulge in his pants. “Of who?”
His smirk widened. “Both.” 
“Shit,” you whispered, an embarrassingly high-pitched noise leaving your lips as you tore your eyes away from the older driver before your whole body burned up.
“Look what a good boy he is,” Lando commented, watching as Oscar littered soft kisses all over your chest and collarbone as his fingers pressed small circles against your clit. “Barely even touched you and he’s humping the sofa.”
Oscar’s cheeks burned hot.
“Bet he’s obedient,” Lando continued as the sound of a zipper echoed through the booth, as the rustling made it clear to both of you what he was doing. “Such a good listener, aren’t you, Oscar? Just wanna make everyone happy, hm? A team player.” 
Oscar finally lifted his head, his eyes glossed over like he was drunk off lust and desire alone.
“You gonna listen to me, baby?”
He nodded.
“Gonna do what I say?”
He nodded again, his eyes locked on the way Lando palmed himself over his boxers with one hand as he held your panties in the other.
A slow smirk spread across his face. “Get between her legs, baby, I know you’ve been dying for a taste of her probably since she put on that lil’ number.”
And Lando was right. He was obedient. It was almost like his body was moving under a spell as he shifted, as he slid off the couch and settled on his knees on the carpeted floor instead. It should have felt wrong to have his back to Lando, but instead the idea that the boy’s eyes were locked on him whilst he touched himself (even if Oscar couldn’t see) thrilled him more than it should have.
His hands palmed your thighs before he slowly spread your legs, as he pushed the fabric of your dress until it pooled at your hips and exposed you. A whimper left Oscar’s lips as he tugged you closer to the edge, as one hand pushed your thigh back whilst the other guided your leg over his shoulder. 
He looked up at you, his cock twitching in his pants at the silent plea in your eyes for him to do something, to give you what you wanted just as bad as him. And his eyes never left your as he leaned down, tongue pressed against your soaked cunt as he licked upwards in one thick, broad stroke. 
“Fuck!” 
Lando couldn’t help himself as his hand slipped beneath the waistband of his boxers, as he squeezed the length of himself before pulling his cock free of any restraints. 
Lando couldn’t help himself as the hand fisting your panties wrapped around his cock, as he let the lacy fabric run against his sensitive tip and resisted the urge to buck his hips. 
Lando couldn’t fucking help himself as he stroked his cock, his eyes locked on the way you panted and moaned and grasped the cushions around you as Oscar worked between your legs. 
A part of him wanted to get up, to close the distance between him and you both. He wanted to walk over, he wanted to thread his fingers through Oscar’s hair like you had done before and guide him. He wanted to watch the boy lick and kiss and suck your needy cunt until his face was dripping. He wanted to whisper just what a good fucking boy Oscar really was as he made you come, as Lando watched you come. 
But the other part of him liked this—this twisted sense of power. He liked the fact he could sit back and watch, like it really was a show you two were putting on for him. He liked the idea that this went beyond something any of you understood, the way the two of you were so eager and pliant and obedient for him. 
He liked that he could sit back, your wet panties fisted around his cock as he watched the two of you moan and squirm and desperately try and look pretty for him. 
And you did. You both looked so, so pretty for him. 
And you sounded so pretty too when you moaned out his name instead of your boyfriend’s. The way your back arched off the couch, your face scrunched up in pleasure as Oscar held your hips down. The way Lando could hear the way his teammate was groaning against your pussy, see the way his hips shifted like he desperately needed some friction against his aching cock. 
It was the prettiest fucking sight Lando had ever seen. 
“That’s it, baby,” Lando groaned. “Come for Oscar, let him taste you, yeah?” 
You nodded dumbly, far too lost in your own pleasure to even understand what he was saying. 
“Bet you’re so fucking hard,” Lando continued, his eyes locked on the way the muscles in his back shifted through his shirt. “Bet you could come just from hearing her moan, huh?” 
The whine Oscar let out told Lando everything he needed to know. 
“That’s it,” Lando groaned, his fist tightening around his cock as he felt his stomach clench as he neared the edge, as he neared his own orgasm. “Gotta finish the show f’me, hm? Gonna be good for me, yeah?” 
You chanted out Oscar’s name as you finally came, shaking and squirming as he held your body against the cushions and continued to suck on your sensitive clit. And when you couldn’t take any more, you lightly pushed his head away to see his expression: flushed cheeks, hooded eyes and glossy lips that you wanted to kiss so bad. But a shifting movement caught your eyes, your gaze moving down to look at the dark patch spread across the front of his boxers. 
“Just tasted so good,” Oscar murmured, not even ashamed or embarrassed at the mess he made. 
And then your eyes shifted to look at the boy across the room. 
He leaned back against the cushions, his chest moving up and down with soft pants. His trousers were pushed down to pool mid-thigh, his boxers just above them and his cock was still fisted in his hand, covered by your panties and his own come. It shouldn’t have been so attractive. 
“I think I prefer this Oscar much better than drunk Oscar,” Lando eventually commented, something quite like a smug grin on his face as he looked between you both. 
There was a tension in the room, one that none of your fuzzy brains could really grasp onto just yet. But it was there and it was overwhelming and suffocating and you each had half the mind to hope this night never ended. 
You didn’t know what would happen after tonight, but you knew until then, the hidden club in the depths of Amsterdam would keep your secret—the secret that maybe all three of you wanted something more than a night fuelled by lust and weed. 
.
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radiant-reid · 3 months
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Code-Switching
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super small blurb but this idea came about because of mom on tiktok raising her kid in french and english.
There's nothing better after a long day of work than coming back home to your family. You couldn't want much more in your life than living in the perfect townhouse with your beautiful little girl and handsome husband.
Spencer stayed home today and you can hear jazz music in the living room while you slip off your shoes at the front door. Having a baby is a good look on him, but so is his modified work schedule that allows him to do all his paperwork and consults from home.
You hang your coat on the coat rack. It's not yet warm enough outside to go without one, but the sun is quickly coming.
"Bonjour." You greet Spencer with a kiss as you walk into the kitchen.
He's cooking something that smells amazing, as usual. Although many people wouldn't believe it, his culinary skills are impressive.
"Hi, beautiful." Spencer smiles just seeing you. "How was your day?"
"It was great." You tell him. "Being home is better though."
He nods. "We missed you. Can I get you a drink or do you want to go change?"
"I'm okay." You assure him. "Where's Eloise?"
"She was in the living room." Spencer frowns slightly, looking over the kitchen island counter for the little girl.
Her building blocks are still there but before either of you can start worrying, two hands wrap around your ankle, and a little giggle leaves her lips. "Mamá!"
"Hola, bebé." You cheer, reaching down to scoop her up to rest against your hip in a hug. "Cómo estás?"
"Bien." She replies with a nod.
Before you can press some more Spanish words out of her, Spencer speaks, directing her attention to the dinner cooking. "Excusez-moi. Voulez-vous du riz ou des pâtes avec votre poulet?" He asks her. You can tell his speech is slowed, allowing her to hear each syllable and understand it.
Eloise looks at you instead of her dad. "Quiero pasta, no arroz." Then she looks to Spencer. "S'il vous plaît."
You grin at Spencer, who's matching your excitement. He'd done the bulk of the reading about how to properly raise a baby to speak multiple languages. He speaks French to her, you in Spanish, and everyone else she is around in English. It isn't a perfect system but you've stuck to it. Her level of fluency and words in each language fluctuate, but it's not bad enough to warrant concern.
Until now, she has barely shown any code-switching. Occasionally, she'll throw in English pronouns to Spanish or French sentences, but until now, there haven't been any combinations between Spanish and French.
"Eres una chica inteligente." You tell her with a smile. Eloise can't tell exactly why you're so pleased with her, but she mirrors your expression.
"Très intelligent," Spencer adds, kissing her cheek. He follows her direction, reaching up to grab some pasta to cook for tonight's dinner.
"Smart." Eloise translates the word like it's second nature to her. You suppose it is. And it's a word that describes her to the fullest.
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