#i was so embarrassed to go back to ask if he could add them but he was so nice about it!! i was v happy đ
Part 4
Mister(s) Steal Your Girl is, somehow, now the official title. Congratulations you little shits (affectionate).
Content: Toxic Behavior, Brief Weight Shaming, Hurt/Comfort
You didnât expect to see Johnny much after that one night - or possibly ever again. Kyle introduced you two, it was a lot of fun, but you figure thatâll be the end of it. Like introducing a new man to your girlfriends (not that you can really introduce Kyle to yours) you passed the vibe check and now Kyle will keep you and Johnny separate.
Thatâs how itâs been with Brandonâs friends. (Granted, you donât really care for Brandonâs friends. And you figure itâs mutual based on the âuptightâ comments they pretended to think you couldnât hear.)
Youâre starting to realize that Kyle is always going to subvert your expectations.
Johnny becomes a fixture - a welcome one. While you and Kyle still have your date nights and privacy, Johnny joins you two at least once a week for movies, drinks, dinner, or just silly adventures out and about.
Youâre surprised that you donât mind. Johnny is fantastic company, always respectful, funny, and friendly. Whenever the two of you are left alone, thereâs no dead air. In fact, sometimes you could almost swear thereâs electricity. Which is⊠well. It makes it hard to look him in the eye sometimes - and looking at Kyle even harder.
Guilt nips at your stomach until one of them distracts you with another story youâre 70% sure they shouldnât tell you.
You and Johnny play a game with pub napkins, doodling something on one folded half, then passing it over for the other to scribble on the second half. The trick is not cheating and seeing the first half, then unfolding it to a complete (and usually silly) picture. Gaz always gets to name whatever monstrosity has been created.
You get a month of that good company. Then Kyle sighs at his phone one night.
âShipping out again,â he explains when you glance at him.
âWill you be gone long?â you ask, shifting.
His brow furrows. âNot sure. They canât tell us much over the phone.â
You hum in understanding. Still new to this whole military thing, the redacted danger of it all, but you think youâre getting the hang of it. At least, Kyle never seems annoyed when he canât answer you, only apologetic.
âIs it gonna be the whole team?â you ask.
âNah, just me and the cap.â He rubs his palm along your calf, a gesture that you suspect is self-soothing rather than for your benefit. âProbably not too dangerous, then.â
You make a noise of protest, nudging at his thigh with your foot. âBad luck!â
âSorry, sorry!â he chuckles, tapping his knuckles on the wooden end table. âYouâre right.â
You crawl from your side of the couch to his, nuzzling up under his arm. He trails kisses along the side of your face as you snuggle in.
âIâll miss you,â you mumble into his neck. Still a little embarrassed to be so needy, but you want him to feel appreciated.
âIâll miss you too, chickadee. Iâll call if I can, yeah?â
You hum in agreement, squeezing an arm around his middle.
âWhile Iâm gone, if you need anything - even some company - you ought to call Soap,â he adds.
The idea is tempting but⊠âI donât want to bother him.â
âI promise you wonât,â he laughs. You donât know whatâs so funny, but hearing his voice rumble in his chest like this is always a treat.
âMaybe,â you allow.
âWeâll take it.â Before you can ask what that means, he loops an arm around your waist and scoops you into his lap. âNow then, about my send off.â
Your giggle turns into a moan as his mouth slants over yours.
Kyleâs only been gone three days. Youâve occupied yourself with cleaning up the flat you share with Brandon. Dust has been collecting since youâve been out and about so much - and god knows Brandon hardly does more than load the dishwasher. Besides, a good bit of spring cleaning is a pleasant enough distraction, humming as you toss out old things to make more room for the new stuff youâve been collecting.
âGood to see you getting back to normal,â Brandon says cheerfully. You glance up from the laundry youâre folding. He continues, âI was worried with how behind you got on things, but I knew you just needed some time. I told you this would be better for us both.â
You try not to let that sting. Even if things are better now, and continuing to get better, you canât forget the pain that lingers from the beginning.
âTell you what,â he adds, hands in his pockets. âWhen you finish cleaning up, Iâll take you out to the pub, yeah? Put on something pretty.â
You perk up, pleasantly surprised, though hesitant.
âWe could leave earlier if you helped,â you point out, hoping for more than just dinner. âMaybe we could walk in the park or something before eating.â
He gives you a weak smile. One you recognize more than his real one by now. Itâs almost apologetic, but not quite.
âI would but Iâm bloody exhausted from this week, ya know? Big projects coming up at work.â
Your smile freezes. âAnd some late nights, Iâm sure,â you try to joke.
He doesnât laugh like you expect, but gives you an odd look. âWhy would you say something like that?â
Baffled, you shrug. He shakes his head.
âIâm going to take a nap, come wake me up when youâre ready to go.â
You manage to finish the majority of your to-do list by 5. Shower, get dressed, do your hair and makeup with Brandon snoring in the background until 6. By then, he still hasnât woken up from his nap, so you perch on the edge of the bed and gently nudge at him until he stirs.
âIâm ready to go, babe,â you murmur.
He scrunches up his face - you spare an affectionate thought for how cute it is. Youâve always found it cute.
âFive more minutes,â he grumbles.
You laugh a little. âItâs getting late, we should probably head out.â
He groans. âFive. Minutes.â
You huff in amusement and reach for his phone to set an alarm, but pause at all the notifications from dating apps crowding his screen. There are⊠a lot. And as youâre looking, a new message pops up, just labeled âblondeâ with a peach emoji. Gross.
You set the alarm and slip away to the living room.
It takes him another half hour to finally rouse, shuffling into the living room with a groan.
âCâmon,â he yawns. âItâs going to be bloody crowded by now.â
You follow him quietly to the car, knowing heâs not chatty when heâs just woken up. Hunger only adds to his mood; you can practically see a cloud forming over his head. By the time he pulls up to the pub, heâs downright grumpy. He grumbles about shit parking, and the milling people outside. It looks busy.
âWe could go somewhere else?â you suggest.
âThis is fine,â he says.
He parks a block away and starts at a swift pace. You try to hold his hand, but halfway there, he pulls away to check his phone and doesnât take it again.
Surprisingly, itâs only a twenty minute wait for a table - but Brandon sneers something like âof course it isâ under his breath. You smile apologetically at the hostess and usher him away.
He doesnât talk during the wait, at first. Until suddenly he blurts. âWe wouldnât have to wait if youâd woken me up.â
You blink at him. âI did. You asked for five more minutes.â
âWell, why didnât you wake me up then?â
âI set an alarm?â
You donât know why heâs so irritated, just that he seems tired and hungry.
âYou know I donât listen to alarms,â he complains, scowling at the sidewalk.
âOkay⊠Iâll wake you up next time,â you offer.
âYeah, next time.â
Thankfully, the two of you are called a little early. The pub is indeed loud and crowded, and youâre definitely overdressed. But at least you know what you want - Brandonâs taken you here a million times before.
Wisely, you wait until heâs downed the texmex rolls before trying for conversation again. He hums along as you talk about work, about the books youâve been reading, about the new movie you saw last week. You think itâs going pretty well, catching up on each otherâs lives, when he interrupts you mid-sentence.
âWhere was this?â
You frown. âAt the grocery storeâŠ?â
âYouâre still on that? Thought we moved on from that story.â
You donât bother finishing it, just ask him about his work. Itâs like pulling teeth. A lot of âgoodâ and âbusyâ and âsame as usual.â By the time your entree comes, youâve given up, not sure if you want to cry or just walk away to see if he even notices. He keeps checking his phone. Your fingers twitch to text Kyle, but you donât want to bother him while heâs working.
The end of dinner canât come sooner. You decline dessert when the server asks.
âProbably for the better,â Brandon tells you lowly when theyâre gone to get the check. âI think youâve put on a bit of weight. You know how you get.â
You probably have - Kyle has a sweet tooth and practically begs you to split desserts with him. Johnnyâs shares his food with you now too, grinning when you express approval for whatever high-protein dish heâs picked and shoving more at you.
As for âhow you getâ⊠Brandonâs mentioned in the past when you were heavier that you get mopey, arenât much fun to be around.
(A small part of you wonders how that would even effect him at this point. He doesnât spend enough time around you to notice if youâre mopey. Is that why tonight has been such a disasterâŠ?)
You just collect your purse and lead the way out of the pub. Itâs a quiet walk back to the car, even though Brandon seems to be in a better mood. Heâs still texting, nearly bumps into an elderly couple along the way.
Back at the apartment, he runs his hand down your side, tugs at the lace hem of your shirt.
âCareful,â you chide.
He sucks his teeth and drops his hand. âIâm just trying to be playful.â
ïżœïżœI know, but I like this shirt.â
He rolls his eyes. âYouâve got three just like it.â
You donât answer, know itâll lead to more useless bickering. Just tug the stupid thing over your head, ready to go to bed.
âHey now, thatâs more like it,â he drawls, fingertips running down your spine.
You jump, surprised, but play it off that his hands are cold. He makes some crass comment about warming them up, reaching for your breasts, and your stomach churns.
âI-I think I ate something bad,â you lie, all but sprinting for the bathroom.
You close the door behind you - but donât lock it. Just sit on the floor, the wall cold against your back, while you try to breathe through your spinning, conflicting thoughts.
Heâs finally giving you attention, affection. Why arenât you jumping at this opportunity to spend time with him? Not long ago, you would have been weeping with joy to have an iota of your normal relationship back. Maybe you really did eat something bad.
âHey,â Brandon calls through the door, âIâm gonna stay somewhere else tonight.â
You stare at the blank white wood, aghast. âBut Iâm sick.â
âItâs not like I can do much, is there? Except listen to you be sick all night,â he reasons. âAnd who knows. Maybe it wasnât something you ate. Maybe itâs contagious. I donât want to spend the weekend ill.â
Your eyes burn. He didnât even open the door to check. âYeah,â you agree, voice robotic, âyouâre right.â
Not even five minutes later, you hear the front door close. That almost, almost does you in. You manage to keep your lackluster dinner down, but not the tears.
You let yourself be pathetic for a few minutes, crying into your arms, folded over your knees. When you finally manage to get yourself together, itâs not Brandon you ache for. Itâs Kyle. Itâs not possible, you know. You just donât want to be alone even though the nausea is dissipating.
Sighing, you remove your ruined makeup and wash your face, climb into one of Kyleâs jumpers. At least it still smells like him. Itâs only as youâre trying to decide on a comfort show, huddled into a ball on the couch, that you remember his advice.
It takes all of fifteen seconds of debate before you scramble for your phone.
I know itâs late, but are you free, you text Johnny.
A response comes almost immediately.
Always for you, lass. You bite your lip on a tiny smile, already feeling better. Your phone buzzes again. Whatâs up?
Your thumbs hover over the keyboard for a moment as you figure out what to ask - then how to ask it.
Would you want to come to mine for movies? I donât feel goodâŠ
He answers instantly again. Ice cream not-good or Theraflu not-good?
You sniffle when you remember that being sick was a dealbreaker for your night with Brandon.
Ice cream not-good, you reply.
Say no more, hen. Be there in fifteen. Pick a good one.
You watch TikTokâs until thereâs a knock at the door. Upon answering, youâre swept up in a bear hug that lifts you off your socked feet.
âJohnny!â you cry, laughing a bit in shock.
âThere she is!â he crows, swinging you around. âBeen missinâ my best girl!â
You tell yourself the thrill in your stomach is just from him setting you down. (Itâs a harder sell when it happens again seeing his wide smile and warm blue eyes.)
âYou're ridiculous,â you huff, âIâm not your best girl.â
He arches his eyebrows. âOh, yer keepinâ track, are ye?â
âCâmon, you must have a partner or something?â you prod as you usher him inside.
âKyle mustâve told ye, hen, itâs hard in this line of work,â he explains, shrugging. âTried before but⊠usually they just end up feeling neglected, ya ken.â
You hum. Thatâs why Kyle said you and he would work so well with the open relationship - that youâd still have someone at home while he was out. That you wouldnât be alone if something happened to him.
âAnyway, this is no kinda talk for a cozy night in, now is it?â Johnny says, cutting your melancholy musing short. âCome look at what I brought ya!â
You only notice then the two grocery bags in one hand. He herds you to the couch and sets them on the coffee table for you to root through.
âMy favorite!â You exclaim when you extract the tub of ice cream.
The grin Johnny shoots you is proud. âKyle said so.â
âYou two,â you sigh happily.
Heâs also brought a squishy stuffed animal, crisps, popcorn, soda, candy, and a small collection of self-care items. You hold the face-masks up with a questioning smile.
âHeard somewhere that itâs good for ye, when yer feelinâ down.â You try not to giggle when the last word comes out sounding like âdoon.â He continues, blissfully ignorant. âHope thatâs the right shite, there was a lot to choose from.â
You throw your arms around him, chest warm. âThank you, this is perfect, Johnny.â
He circles his arm around your waist, holding you close. âAnytime, bonnie,â he murmurs into your hair.
You squeeze his shoulders as you pull away, waving one of the mask packets with a wicked little smile.
âWanna try this âshiteâ with me?â you tease.
You expect a resounding and masculine-heavy no. Instead, Johnny tilts his head consideringly for a moment, then shrugs.
âEh, why the hell not?â
You wake up the next morning to a mess of candy wrappers, discarded moisturizers, and an empty carton of ice cream. And the smell of eggs. Cartoons are playing quietly on the telly. When you yawn and sit up, youâre greeted by a cheerful Johnny at the stove, wearing your pink apron.
âMorninâ, sunshine,â he calls.
You flush and smile back, glad that you called him. âMorninâ!â
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Omg do you know the Valentino x reader period pains thing can you do that but with vox's teenage daughter like how would he react straight panic. Most men in the 50's didn't know anything really about period cramps or periods in general. So he probably not know much besides what Vel talks about. I can imagine him doing the wtf which one do I get her in the store thing so he buys everything lol.
Another super fun request! Enjoy!
Vox stared at the shelves in a mixture of embarrassment and confusion. His gaze fell from the shelves to the list, and back again. So many colors, and why was one woman playing volleyball? He cursed himself for not simply putting Velvetteâs requests on the list and pushing it off. How was he supposed to know this could happen in the middle of the night?
âDad? Dad, I need help. I think Iâm dying.âÂ
Vox had heard his daughter's voice from across his bedroom. He instantly sat up and turned on the bedside light, swung his legs over the side of the bed and hurried to her.Â
âWhatâs the matter baby?â He asked frantically.Â
âMy belly hurts, and Iâm bleeding,â she sobbed. âDaddy, whatâs wrong with me?â
He felt a cold chill and sheer panic settle through him as he noticed the bright red stains on her pajama pants. No, she couldnât be. She couldnât have her period already, right? She was only thirteen. God, he was so not ready for this.Â
âYouâre not dying babydoll, come on. We need to go see your Aunt Velvette,â he said as calmly as he could. âCome on now, follow me.â He put a hand on her shoulder and guided her down the hallway. He pounded on Velvetteâs door. âVel? Vel get up! We need you!â
He heard frantic footsteps and the door swung open.
âVox you better have a damn good reason to-â Velvette cut herself off mid sentence at the sight of reader. âOh. Yep, thatâs a good reason. Come in honey, go to my bathroom. I need to talk to your dad for a moment. Youâre okay, I promise.âÂ
Vox watched as his daughter walked across the room and vanished behind closed doors. He turned to Velvette, who was scribbling something down on a pad of paper.Â
âVel, you still good to handle this?â He asked cautiously. âI just-â
âVox, it's the middle of the night. I told you ages ago to have housekeeping order the supplies she needs and you put it off. Now you need to go to the store yourself while I convince sweet reader she isnât about to kick the bucket,â Velvette grumbled as she ripped the paper off the pad and handed it to Vox. âEverything you need is on that list. Youâre going to have to go out and buy it right now.â
Vox felt himself flush with embarrassment. This was a female issue- it shouldnât involve him.Â
Velvette gave him a look. âIf you had listened to me in the first place, we wouldnât be in this situation would we? Now shoo.âÂ
Now here he stood, with a list of what he firmly believed were made up words. What exactly was a âtamponâ anyway? Or a âthin panty linerâ?
âExcuse me sir, do you need any help?â A cheerful voice came from behind him.
Vox whirled around. He could feel his face turn even more red as he thrust the list towards the unsuspecting sales girl.
âI..I need these. I mean, I donât need them. My daughter needs them. I justâŠâ
The sales girl seemed unphased. âHow old is your daughter?â
âThirteen.â
âOkay! She needs this, and this, and thisâŠâ she loaded the items into his cart. âEasy enough! Extra chocolate too, might be a nice thing to do.â
Vox could only nod and add an extra bar of chocolate to the cart. To his relief, she packaged everything up in discrete brown paper bags. As he swiped his card, he wondered why such a necessary product was priced so ridiculously high.Â
When he got back to the apartment, he knocked on Velvetteâs door. She stuck her head out and took the bags.Â
âI woke up Val and heâs making hot cocoa. Weâll join you two in a few minutes. Now shoo.â She slammed the door in his face.Â
Vox resigned himself to the kitchen. He took a seat at the table and buried his attention in his phone as Valentino stood at the stove in his pajamas, stirring the hot chocolate pot.Â
âHow are you, amicito?â He asked. âBig day for our little princessa.â
Vox groaned. âCan we not talk about it?â
âI think you need to get with the times. Your little girl needs you,â Valentino replied easily. âSo get over yourself.â
Vox raised an eyebrow and looked over to him. âYouâre not freaked out about this?â
Valentino shrugged. âWhy should I be? Our little girl is simply growing up. If you treat her like the plague she will feel shame- and thatâs the last thing we want, right?â
Vox considered. He hadnât thought about it that way, how his reaction to what was admittedly a natural event, might affect her.Â
âDo you think she knows IâmâŠâ
Valentino cut him off. âI think you did just the right thing, bringing her to Vel.â
âHere she is!â Velvetteâs voice called through the kitchen. âOfficially a young lady!â
Reader flushed and looked down. âNotâŠitâs not that big a deal I guess.â
âOh, baby princessa, it is.â Valentino said as he ladeled the hot chocolate into a mug and added whipped cream. âThe heating pad is all set on the couch. Remote is yours.âÂ
âThanks Uncle Val,â she mumbled as she made her way out to the living room.Â
âWhatâs wrong with her?â Vox asked with concern.Â
Both Valentino and Velvette looked at him with a mix of annoyance and shock. From the living room, the television blared top volume. All three recognized the theme to her favorite show.Â
âShe hurts, sheâs bleeding for the first time and sheâs embarrassed about it,â Velvette answered. âEven though I told her there was nothing to be ashamed of. Itâs normal.â
âSo, what do I do?â Vox asked. âHow do I help her?â
âYou love her, and give her chocolate and give her a bit of grace if sheâs crabby. Her hormones are all over the place,â Velvette replied. âAnd for god sake, get over yourself.â
Vox winced. He didnât want to think about his daughter having hormones, or growing up. He knew it was a fact of life, but what he wouldnât give to be unaware of it. Valentino handed him a cup of cocoa and he took a sip. He watched as Velvette flopped down on the couch next to his daughter.Â
âSheâs going to grow up, Vox. You canât stop it,â Valentino warned.Â
âI know I canât,â Vox replied tiredly. âBut Iâm not ready to lose my little girl.â
Valentino gave him an irritated look. âWhat are you talking about? Sheâs still your little girl- she always will be. And right now she needs her family to support her,â he replied as he turned and left the kitchen.Â
Vox sighed as he watched Val collapse on the other side of the couch. He could barely make out their chatter. After a moment, he stood up and joined them and took the seat next to reader. Concern flooded his face as he looked at his daughter. She looked pale, paler than usual.Â
âHow are you feeling, babygirl?â He asked. He reached over and brushed the hair out of her eyes, the palm of his hand lingering on her forehead for a moment. Was it him, or did she feel warm?
âIâm okay, Daddy, just tired,â she replied quietly. âMy tummy hurts. Can I go to bed?â
âOf course you can, princess,â he replied as he pulled his hand away. âIâll be in to check on you in a bit.âÂ
She climbed off the couch and wrapped him in a hug. âNight night, Daddy.â
âGoodnight baby.â He replied.Â
She did the same with Valentino and Velvette before trudging back to her room. He heard the door close and looked to Velvette.Â
âShe felt warm, is that normal?â
Velvette rolled her eyes. âYou know what? Figure it out on your own. Iâm going to bed.â
âNot a bad idea to do some research, amicito,â Valentino added as he stood up. âIf nothing more than to help our little princessa.âÂ
Vox watched them both retreat back to their rooms before shutting off the lights and returning to his own bed. He pulled out his phone and hesitated for just a moment. Breaking free of the ideas that he had been so held to in life was uncomfortable to say the least. But at the same time, he felt he owed it to his little girl to at least try to understand what she was going through. And he was willing to do whatever was necessary to make sure he was the best dad he could be.
Even if it meant figuring out exactly how to handle a period.Â
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Fanatic Intervention Part 9!!
Beginning || Previous || Next
*****************
You pound your way to the nearest bar, where everyone had agreed to meet. The three of them are standing around, talking over glasses of wine. Your hands are in fists, your nails digging into your palms as you approach. They acknowledge you as you enter their field of vision, but you say nothing. Instead, you beeline for Aziraphale, put your arms around him, and hang on for dear life. Sometimes you just need to hug an angel.
Thereâs a pause where Anathema says something about your aura, and then Aziraphale hugs you back.
Dear Reader, Iâm not sure if it ever happened in your life, but for this Puffin there came a time when it was made very clear that wanting to be held or wanting to lean on another person in public was unacceptable (and, in fact, embarrassing) once you reached a certain age. And yet, we as humans are social creatures. The need to be held is a very normal response, especially after something particularly upsetting happens (like having the sanctity of washroom privacy violated, for example). Perhaps youâre not the kind of person who, out of nowhere, feels the desire to be held, but perhaps you know someone who is. And so, I would like to impress upon you the incredible difference it makes, the immeasurable relief it brings, to know that you have someone with you who will hold you back without question or comment. Just hold you, and wait.
Aziraphale makes it clear he intends to do just that.
âTake your time, dear,â he says gently. And so you do.
After a moment, the clink of a glass next to you makes you look up. Someone has given you a glass of the same wine everyone else has. You pull away and take a sip, feeling much calmer and very grateful.
âThanks,â You say.
âAnytime,â Aziraphale replies.
âWhat happened?â Anathema asks.
Thus, you recount how Metatron trapped you in the washroom until he had said his peace. By the time you finish, there are three very angry faces around you. You feel validated enough to take another, much larger, sip of the wine. Aziraphale is the first to speak.
âWell for starters, I invite you to stay in my bookshop however long you like. Pet indeed! You are a help, yes, but you are a guest, and certainly not disposable, whatever he says.â
âAnd,â Crowley adds, âFrom what you said, Aziraphale and I can get you home whenever you want anyway. Probably, I mean. No dUbIOus motives involved, at least.â
Anathema seems to be thinking. After another few seconds, she asks:
âWhy did you take the coffee?â
You all look at her, surprised.
âWell I mean,â she continues, âIf the Metatron wants to know, he probably has a reason. If you tell us, maybe we can figure it out for ourselves and find a way around it.â
âOr they could just not tell him,â Crowley suggests with snark. âThen it doesnât matter.â
âI mean, it might,â Anathema counters, âWe donât know that it doesnât.â
âI took it because of the Coffee Theory,â You say with a shrug. Itâs not like itâs a big deal. âBut I mean, I donât know why that would matter to him.â
âWell,â Anathema says, âThat might depend on what the Coffee Theory is.â
âWell, itâs the idea that the Metatron did something to that coffee he was going to give Aziraphale. To, like, make Aziraphale trust him, or listen to him or whatever, so that he would go back to Heaven.â You pause. âThereâs also an interpretation of it where it was a metaphor like âtake my offer or face death.â But most people think about the first one, and thatâs the one that was in my brain when I did it. There arenât a lot of people who actually believe it. I mean, not anymore, anyway.â
âSo you think the Metatron drugged Aziraphaleâs coffee?â Anathema raises an eyebrow. âAnd you drank it, yes? So...did he?â
âNo,â You reply, âIt was exactly what it was supposed to be. An oat milk latte with almond syrup. And I didnât think he actually messed with it. I just wasnât willing to take the chance, thatâs all.â
Crowleyâs face scrunches. âAnd you think he might need to know that for some reason?â He looks pointedly at Anathema.
âHe might,â She gives a thoughtful hum. âIâll think about it. I might ask the Cards later.â
-----------
The wait for boarding didnât feel so long after that. As you board, you notice how spacious First Class is. Aziraphale and Crowley sit in the seats ahead of you and Anathema, with Aziraphale in the window seat. You notice Crowley casually trying to stick his legs out into the aisle and wonder vaguely whether itâs because he needs the space, or to try and trip the flight attendants. Both? Probably both. Okay, definitely both, you note, as a stewardess almost falls face-first into the aisle. Aziraphale gently swats at Crowley in reprimand, but you can tell itâs half-hearted and wholly-fond.
Your only trouble comes when you need to use the washroom, but Anathema, ever clever and aura-observant, suggests to go with you so that you can knock if anything goes wrong. Thankfully, nothing does, and you both return to your seats.
âYou know,â Anathema says, leaning forward, âI just overheard the strangest thing. It seems that all of the normal airline food on this plane has gone missing. All that they have to serve is the first-class food.â
âWait,â You say, holding back a laugh, âSo everyone on this flight gets to eat the fancy, chef-prepared, gourmet meals?â
Crowley doesnât hold back his laugh. âOh, the big bosses wonât like that!â
âYou two wouldnât have had anything to do with that, would you?â Anathema asks suspiciously. You notice sheâs smiling while she says it.
âPsh!â Crowley waves away the thought. âWhy would I? Doesnât matter to me either way.â
âHonestly, Miss Device,â Aziraphale adds, âI have no idea why you immediately accuse us of something that seems so clearly to be a mere...clerical error.â
Ah-ha! Culprit found. Clerical error your arse.
âYou know,â You sigh, âIt really is no wonder why Crowley loves you so much.â
âNgk,â says Crowley. Aziraphale responds with a pleased-sounding hum. You relax, and notice between the seats that Aziraphale places his hand on top of Crowleyâs and leaves it there.
They like holding hands â your insides scream.
--------
When you disembark from the plane, you hear all the other passengers around you complimenting the flight attendants on the excellent food and promising to leave excellent reviews online. You keep your laughter as quiet as you can. Aziraphaleâs little prank is going to cause the airline issues for YEARS. Crowley must be so proud.
The speed and ease with which you clear customs and baggage claim is probably because youâre traveling with two supernatural entities. In no time at all, youâre outside of the airport flagging down a cab. Crowley opens the door with enthusiasm and outright glee.
âAfter you, Angel,â he says, âYou think 90 miles an hour in London is bad, I canât wait for you to see this!â
Dear Reader, I donât know if you have ever been to New York City, but I assure you that Crowleyâs driving has nothing on the NYC cabbies. Aziraphale spends the entire drive trying to hold on to something and taking deep breaths as the cab violently jerks to a stop millimeters from the car in front. You suggest he close his eyes. He does. It doesnât seem to help.
-------
The taxi lets you out in front of The Ritz. Because of course youâre staying at The Ritz. Aziraphale goes to check in while Crowley tells Anathema he needs the washroom, and mutters to you that he wants to empty all the soap dispensers. You try so hard to hold in your laughter that it comes out your nose anyway. The demon flashes you a cheeky grin before disappearing around the corner. Anathema looks at you.
âProbably been a while since he had a fresh audience,â You say to her. She chuckles.
âAnd youâre so obliging too. No doubt heâs having a great time with all this.â
âHey, Anathema,â You begin uncertainly, âHow...I mean...Iâm just worried about...things. How are we going to find Jesus anyway? I just...I donât really have anymore information to give. I donât even know if heâs going to be a baby or an adult this time.â
âHm...â Anathema thinks for a minute, âWell, Iâm going to try and get some readings, see if I can get some kind of direction for us to go in. Itâs a big country, but what Iâm hoping is that it will sort of work like dowsing.â
âDowsing? Like looking for water with sticks?â
âSort of. In a nutshell, you pay attention to the vibrations in the Earth, and the closer you get, the stronger the vibrations become. It makes sense to think that Jesus would make pretty noticeable vibrations. Thatâs my working hypothesis anyway.â
You nod. That will do for now. Aziraphale and Crowley both return, with the demon wiping his hands on his trousers, and the four of you take the elevator to your room.
The Royal Suite.
âAre...youâŠ.serious??â Anathema asks. Honestly, youâre too stunned looking around the enormous suite with four bedrooms to say anything. Itâs bigger than most houses. You take out your phone and start taking pictures.
âWell, if weâre going to stay at The Ritz,â Aziraphale says cheerfully, pronouncing the capital letters, âBest to do it Properly.â
âBut this is ridiculous!â
Aziraphale isnât paying attention anymore. Heâs gone to tell Crowley not to draw mustaches on the expensive artwork.
âUnlimited resources,â You say to her, âMake for expensive taste.â
âNo, kidding,â she sighs, âIâm glad youâre here. Iâm gonna need some help with these two.â
Ha, You think to yourself, I knew it.
â€ïž â€ïž â€ïž â€ïž đ€
Beginning || Previous || Next
^ If you want to see JUST how ridiculous the royal suite is.
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Damian Wayne NYCC 2023 Remarks & Commissions!
Patrick Gleason
Jorge Jimenez
Dan Mora
Jorge Corona
Simone Di Meo
Dike Ruan
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the only thing worse than having a crush is trying to figure out whether you like like someone for real or if you just like like the figment version of them you made up in your head
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Fairytale
Charles Leclerc x Princess of Monaco!Reader
Summary: Charles Leclerc has everything he could ask for (off the track, at least) including a fairytale romance ⊠except no one actually believes that his girlfriend is really his girlfriend
Charles sighs as he walks into the driversâ lounge, bracing himself for the inevitable teasing. Ever since he had casually mentioned having a girlfriend, and more specifically who the girlfriend in question is, his friends have been merciless.
âWow, if it isnât Prince Charles in the flesh! Back from another romantic getaway with his imaginary princess,â Max laughs as he enters.
âCome on mates, lay off,â Charles pleads half-heartedly. He knows it is useless.
âI just donât get it,â Lando chimes in. âThereâs no shame in admitting that youâre single. Weâre racing drivers, we donât exactly always have time for relationships.â
âMaybe his standards are too high,â Pierre suggests. âHeâs actually holding out for real royalty or something.â
The others laugh as Charles feels his face grow warm. If only they believed him.
âYou know what you need?â Carlos grins. âA nice Spanish girl to set you up with. My sisterâs friend Elena is single, I could give you her number.â
Charles rolls his eyes. âI told you, I have a girlfriend. Why is that so hard to believe?â
âBecause weâve never seen her!â Max exclaims. âYou talk about her all the time but she never comes to races or appears in photos. She might as well be a unicorn.â
âMaybe sheâs just embarrassed to be seen with Charles,â Lando teases.
Charles frowns, stung by Landoâs words. If only they knew the truth. The reality is that his girlfriend is extremely famous in her own right and values the little privacy she has left too much to be seen at races. Her life is already public enough without adding the scrutiny that anyone connected to a Formula 1 driver inevitably receives on top of it. Besides, she has her own royal duties to attend to.
âCome on guys, thatâs unfair,â Pierre says gently, noticing Charlesâ discomfort. âIf Charles says he has a girlfriend, we should believe him.â
âThank yoââ Charles starts to say with relief. At least someone is on his side.
âEven if she is imaginary,â Pierre adds with a smirk.
Charles groans and puts his head in his hands as the laughter starts up again. He canât really blame them for not believing him.
You are basically a fairytale princess â beautiful, elegant, and kind. Not to mention an actual member of the royal family. Her Serene Highness Princess Y/N Grace Stephanie Caroline of Monaco is the type of girl people write epic poems and songs about. Charles can hardly believe his luck that you had chosen him.
âAlright, thatâs enough,â Daniel interrupts, taking pity on Charles. âLeave the poor man alone.â
âWeâre just joking,â Max says defensively. âCharles knows we donât mean anything by it.â
Charles gives Max a tight smile. âSure.â
âTell you what,â Daniel says, clapping Charles on the shoulder. âBring your mystery girl to a race soon. Weâll all get to meet her and then you can finally prove these jokers wrong.â
Charles sighs. If only it were that simple. You have been tempted to attend races in the past but the scrutiny both of them would come under is just too much. You treasure the privacy your relationship allows. But maybe Daniel is right. Maybe it is time for you to finally meet his friends. After all, you are the love of his life. There is nothing to hide.
âAlright, deal,â Charles says finally. âIâll ask her.â
The others exchange surprised looks, not expecting him to agree.
âCanât wait to meet her,â Carlos says with a wink.
Charles rolls his eyes again but smiles. One way or another, he is going to prove to them that his amazing girlfriend isnât just a figment of his imagination.
***
Charles is still thinking about you when he is suddenly accosted by Silvia, Ferrariâs Head of Communications, after practice.
âCharles! Just who I was looking for,â she says briskly. âI need to discuss something rather important with you.â
Charles suppresses a groan. Conversations with Silvia are never fun. âWhatâs up?â He asks with forced cheerfulness.
Silvia lowers her voice. âItâs about your relationship status. We feel it would be beneficial if you were seen dating someone ⊠compatible.â
Charlesâ eyebrows shoot up. âCompatible?â
âYes. A model. Or perhaps an actress. Someone who would look good on your arm and boost your image.â
Charles folds his arms defensively. âWhatâs wrong with my girlfriend?â
Silvia waves a hand impatiently. âYes yes, this alleged princess you keep mentioning. The problem, Charles, is that no one has seen her. No one knows if she is actually connected to you in any way. So, as far as we are concerned, for all intents and purposes, you are single.â
Charles frowns. This again. âI keep telling you that sheâs really my girlfriend. Y/N is just very private.â
âPrivate women donât date Formula 1 drivers,â Silvia says bluntly. âIf she really was in a relationship with you, she would be here. But since that is clearly a figment of your imagination, we need to take steps.â
Charles feels his blood boil. How dare Silvia insult his relationship with Y/N? Question their connection?
âHere are profiles of suitable options,â Silvia continues, shoving a surprisingly heavy folder at him. Charles doesnât open it.
âNo.â
Silvia blinks. âNo?â
âMy relationship with Y/N is off limits,â Charles says firmly. âMy personal life is exactly that â personal. Not to be exploited for PR.â
âDonât be foolish,â Silvia snaps. âThis is bigger than you. Your image reflects on Ferrari. We need to be able to control it.â
âNo. What you need to do is back off,â Charles shoots back.
Silviaâs nostrils flare. Clearly she isnât used to such defiance. âCharles, be reasonableââ
âI am being reasonable,â Charles interrupts. âI wonât pretend to date someone just because the team wants me to. Iâm with Y/N. I donât care if you believe me or not.â
Silvia shakes her head in disgust. âYouâre making a big mistake. Donât come crying to me when this blows up in your face.â
She storms off, heels clicking angrily against the floor.
Charles takes a deep breath, adrenaline pumping through his veins. He canât remember the last time he stood up to Silvia like that. It felt good but also nerve-wracking. He knows she wonât let this go easily.
His phone buzzes and his heart leaps when he sees itâs a text from you.
Heard you had a rough day. Wish I could be there to make it better. I love you đ
Charles smiles, the tension in his shoulders easing. You always knew just what to say and when to say it.
He quickly types back.
I wish you were here too. No matter what anyone says, they canât change my feelings for you. I love you so much â€ïž
He hits send, imagining your smile as you read his text. It doesnât matter what his team, the media, or even his fellow drivers think. His relationship with you is real and authentic. Someday heâll find a way for you to be by his side. But for now, your private moments together are enough.
Charles knows staying with you is the right decision, PR be damned. You are his soulmate â the fairytale princess he never expected to find but thanks God every single day that he did. Your love is worth fighting for. And someday, when the time is right, heâll finally be able to show the world that what you have together is very real.
***
Charles groans as he notices multiple missed calls from his brothers. He has been avoiding their calls lately, knowing they would just tease him mercilessly about his girlfriend. But he knows he canât dodge them forever.
Taking a deep breath, he calls Arthur back.
âWell, well, well, if it isnât Prince Charles himself, taking time away from his busy schedule of dating princesses to spare a chat with us commoners,â Arthur says slyly upon answering.
Charles rolls his eyes. âVery funny. What do you want?â
âWe just wanted to check in on our brother and see how life with Monegasque royalty is treating you,â Lorenzo chimes in. Charles realizes he must be on speaker.
âOh yes, Princess Y/N,â Arthur says in an exaggerated swoony voice. âOur brotherâs one true love since he was 15 years old and had that giant poster of her plastered on his wall.â
Charles feels his face flush. He knows exactly what poster Arthur is referencing â a stunning photo of you in a ballgown from a high society event years ago. Teenage Charles has ripped it out of a magazine and hung it up reverently in his room, gazing at it longingly.
âDonât be ridiculous,â he sputters. âI never had a poster.â
âOh really?â Lorenzo laughs. âI seem to recall you cutting out every picture you could find of her and keeping a little scrapbook.â
Charles cringes internally. Okay, maybe his teenage obsession had been a bit ⊠enthusiastic. But he canât help that he had recognized you as his dream girl even then.
âAlright, so maybe I had a tiny crush on her,â Charles admits. âBut it is not crazy that we ended up together.â
Arthur cackles. âYou used to kiss her photos goodnight before going to bed! You were completely obsessed!â
âRemember how he tried to sneak into that royal gala at Salle des Etoiles to see her?â Lorenzo adds. âHe was totally insane.â
Charles grimaces at the memory. Okay, not his finest moment.
âFace it Charles, youâve been in love with the imaginary idea of Princess Y/N since you were in nappies,â Arthur teases. âNo shame in admitting she wouldn't even give you the time of day now.â
Charles feels his frustration rising. Why does no one believe him?
âBecause your so-called relationship makes no sense!â Lorenzo says, accurately reading his silence. âSheâs a literal princess and youâre ⊠you.â
âGee, thanks,â Charles grumbles. He knows his brothers are just teasing but it still stings.
âCome on, just admit you made the whole thing up to get everyone off your back,â Arthur prods.
Charles sighs loudly. âFor the millionth time, what we have is 100 percent real! Just because it seems unlikely doesnât mean it didnât happen. I donât care if none of you believe me, I love her and she loves me.â
His brothers are silent for a moment.
âYou alright there?â Arthur asks, his voice softening.
âYes, I just wish everyone would stop questioning my relationship all the time,â Charles admits. âIt hurts.â
âWeâre only joking Charles, we donât mean any harm,â Lorenzo says gently.
âI know,â Charles replies. âDoesnât make it any easier to hear constantly though.â
âYouâre right, we took the teasing too far,â Arthur says. âWeâll lay off from now on.â
Charles smiles slightly. âThanks. And someday soon I will prove to you that it is real.â
His brothers are silent for a moment.
âKeep telling yourself that,â Arthur finally laughs.
Charles groans and runs a hand through his hair in frustration. Clearly nothing he says would convince his stubborn brothers that his relationship with you was real and not merely a childhood fantasy.
âAlright, well, I should get going,â Charles mumbles, eager to get off the phone.
âChin up, weâre only teasing,â Lorenzo says lightly. âHave fun with your imaginary princess!â
Arthur and Lorenzo explode into more laughter as Charles quickly hangs up, his face burning. Someday, he will prove to them and everyone else that his amazing girlfriend isnât just a figment of his imagination. No matter how long it takes.
***
Charles sinks into the familiar couch in his sports psychologistâs office, exhausted after a long day on the simulator and endless teasing from his team.
âRough day out there?â Dr. Anderson asks kindly, noticing the strain on Charlesâ face.
âThatâs an understatement,â Charles sighs. âThe car is just so slow this year. We keep trying new setups and tweaks but nothing helps. And the strategy is somehow even worse than the pace. Itâs like the team wants me to fail.â
Dr. Anderson nods sympathetically. âThat must be very frustrating. Tell me more about how itâs impacting you.â
Charles launches into a tirade about the endless issues with the car, the incompetent strategists, and the lack of proper communication from his engineers. Dr. Anderson listens patiently, letting him vent his pent-up anger and disappointment.
After a lengthy rant, Charles finally runs out of steam. âAnyway, itâs just been a terrible season,â he concludes glumly.
âI can certainly understand why you feel that way,â Dr. Anderson says. âIt sounds like the team is letting you down in many ways.â
Charles nods, feeling some of the tension leave his shoulders after unloading. It helps to talk about it with someone whose job is not to judge.
âIs there anything else bothering you lately?â Dr. Anderson asks gently. âAny other sources of stress?â
Charles hesitates. He and Dr. Anderson have been working together for years, ever since he joined Ferrari. He knows he can open up to her.
âItâs just ⊠well, besides the team stuff, no one believes me about my girlfriend,â he admits.
Dr. Anderson raises her eyebrows. âI see. Tell me more about that.â
Charles explains the endless teasing from his fellow drivers, the manipulation attempts by the PR team, and the doubtful reactions from his own family. How despite his best efforts, no one seems willing to accept that he is really dating Princess Y/N of Monaco.
âItâs so frustrating!" He bursts out at the end. âI donât know what else I can do to convince them that we are actually together.â
Dr. Anderson purses her lips, jotting down notes. âI can understand why their doubt would upset you. It must be painful to have your relationship questioned.â
âExactly!" Charles exclaims, throwing his hands up. âYou get it. I knew I could talk to you.â
Dr. Anderson gives him a sympathetic smile.
Charles leaves the appointment feeling much better, confident that his psychologist believes him and is on his side.
As he is exiting, Charles notices Dr. Andersonâs notebook left open on her desk. Before he can stop himself, his eyes scan the page and focus on his name.
He feels his heart sink as he reads.
Charles Leclerc: deflecting from pain of difficult season by creating elaborate fantasy relationship. Fixation on celebrity crush indicates deeper self-esteem issues. Recommend to confront delusion directly in next session.
Charles reels, shock and anger swirling through him. Not even his own psychologist believes him! She thinks he is living in some weird fantasy.
Swallowing the bitter taste in his mouth, Charles straightens his shoulders and walks out. He has never felt more alone and frustrated in his conviction. But he refuses to give up. No matter what anyone says, his love for you is real. And one day, somehow, he will prove it to the world.
***
Charles is back at his family home in Monaco during a rare few days off. He is puttering around the kitchen while his mother cooks dinner.
âOh, by the way, Y/N is coming over for dinner tonight,â Charles mentions casually. âI want you all to finally meet her.â
Pascale laughs lightly without looking up from the stove. âOf course, sweetie.â
Charles frowns. âIâm serious, maman. Sheâll be here in an hour.â
âMhmm, Iâm sure she will,â Pascale replies indulgently. Charles huffs in annoyance.
Just then, his brothers come into the kitchen, freshly showered after playing football outside.
âHey Charles, howâs life with your imaginary girlfriend?â Lorenzo immediately teases.
âSheâs actually coming over for dinner tonight,â Charles says tersely.
Arthur lets out a loud laugh. âYeah right! Good one.â He grabs a piece of bread from the counter, still chuckling.
Charles throws his hands up in exasperation. âWhy does no one ever believe me about her?â
âBoys, thatâs enough,â Pascale chides gently. âLet your brother dream.â
Charles opens his mouth to retort but just then, the doorbell rings. His eyes widen.
âIâll get it!" He yells, dashing for the door. He takes a deep breath before swinging it open to reveal you standing there casually in jeans and a sweater, looking effortlessly gorgeous.
âSurprise!" You laugh, pulling him into a tight hug. Charles melts into your embrace, all his stress and frustration fading away.
âYou have no idea how happy I am to see you right now,â he murmurs into your hair.
You pull back to smile at him tenderly. âIâve been looking forward to this for ages. I want your family to know how much I love you.â
Charles grins and takes your hand, leading your into the kitchen where his stunned family waits.
Pascaleâs mouth is hanging open in shock. The piece of bread Arthur is holding falls to the floor with a dull thump.
âY-your Serene Highness,â Pascale finally manages to stammer out, hastily wiping her hands on a towel. âWhat an honor, we werenât expecting you ...â
She shoots an accusatory look at Charles, who throws up his hands defensively. âI told you she was coming!â
Pascale flushes. âYes, well, I didnât think ⊠that is ⊠we would have prepared ...â
You step forward gracefully, immediately putting Pascale at ease. âPlease, just call me Y/N. Iâve been dying to meet Charlesâ family.â
As you effortlessly charm his mother and brothers, Charles stands back watching with a satisfied smile. The shock and sheepishness on his familyâs faces is vindicating after so many months of teasing and disbelief.
Charles has never been one to say âI told you soâ but ⊠I told you so.
***
The cheers of the crowd are deafening as the chequered flag waves for Charles at the Monaco Grand Prix. He can hardly believe it â finally, a win at his home race!
As he pulls into parc fermĂ© and jumps out of the car, the emotions hit him. Pure elation at ending the long wait for a home victory. Relief at overcoming the teamâs doubts. But most of all, excitement for what comes next.
The podium ceremony.
And with the Monegasque royal family presenting the trophies as usual, Charles knows exactly who will be handing him the winnerâs trophy.
He can barely stand still through the anthems, eager for his moment with you. The weekend has been agony, so close to you yet having to pretend that there is nothing between the two of you.
But not anymore.
At last, the royal family walks onto the podium led by none other than Princess Y/N. Charlesâ heart skips a beat at the sight of you gliding towards him in a figure-hugging red midi dress, sunlight glinting off your carefully styled hair. You somehow manage to become more and more beautiful every time he sees you.
Stopping in front of him, you give him a subtle wink before launching into the customary congratulatory speech. Charles nods along, not hearing a word as he zones out while admiring the stunning woman he gets to call his own.
At last, you turn to pick up the trophy. âIt is my honor to present this trophy to our victor, who represents Monaco with pride in everything he does, Charles Leclerc,â you announce, holding it out to him with a brilliant smile.
In that moment, Charles throws all caution to the wind. As he accepts the trophy, he reaches out and pulls you into a passionate kiss.
The crowd below erupts in shocked cheers and screams. You melt into the kiss for a blissful moment before gently pulling back, your eyes sparkling. Charles grins at you breathlessly.
âWorth the wait?â He murmurs.
âAbsolutely,â you whisper back, squeezing his hand. âIâm so proud of you, mon amour.â
Turning back to the roaring crowd, Charles wraps an arm around your waist and thrusts your linked hands into the air in triumph.
Looking out at the paddock, Charles sees the priceless dumbfounded looks on his fellow driversâ faces. The Ferrari PR team looks ready to pass out in horror. Reporters are screaming questions and snapping photos frantically.
But Charles only has eyes for the radiant princess at his side. At long last, he has made your love public for the whole world to see.
Later, after celebrations around the circuit have started winding down in favor of moving to lounges and clubs for the night, Charles and you escape for a private moment together.
âThat was quite the reveal,â you say with an amused quirk of your eyebrow.
Charles laughs. âI know, subtlety has never been my strong suit. I hope you donât mind.â
You caress his face tenderly. âOf course not. Iâm happy to finally be by your side. No more hiding.â
Charles kisses you deeply, all the love and longing of the past months pouring into it.
When you finally break apart, foreheads touching, he murmurs, âNo more doubts. No more teasing. They all know now that youâre real and all mine.â
âForever yours,â you whisper back. And seal it with another perfect kiss.
***
âI canât believe it. I just ⊠actually canât believe it,â Max mutters, staring at the large screens around the paddock that are showing you and Charles gazing adoringly into each otherâs eyes during the post-race interviews.
âLord Perceval ⊠dating an actual princess,â Carlos muses in disbelief.
âAnd not just any princess, his teenage celebrity crush!" Lando exclaims.
âI guess we owe him an apology,â Pierre says sheepishly.
âBig time,â Daniel agrees. âWe gave him so much crap for making her up.â
âSpeak of the devil,â Max mutters as Charles strides into the room, hand-in-hand with you.
An awkward silence descends on the group. Charles clears his throat, enjoying their obvious discomfort.
âI believe you all know my girlfriend, Her Serene Highness Y/N Grace Stephanie Caroline, Hereditary Princess of Monaco and Marquise of Baux. But you can just call her Your Serene Highness or Princess Y/N,â he says politely.
The guys mumble greetings, not quite meeting your eyes. You smile graciously. âYou can just call me Y/N. Any friend of Charles is a friend of mine and thereâs no need for titles around friends.â
Charles narrows his eyes. âActually I donât think that will be necessary. I believe they should maintain protocol and address you properly.â
You shoots him a look. âDarling, itâs fine, really. I want your friends to feel comfortable around me.â
But Charles crosses his arms, not budging. âNo, itâs not fine. I must insist that they observe the formal mode of address for royalty.â
The drivers shift awkwardly again. You pull Charles aside with a soothing smile.
âWhat are you doing?â You whisper. âIâm trying to put them at ease.â
âI know but they deserve to squirm for a bit after how much they mocked us,â Charles whispers back petulantly.
You bite back a smile. âDonât be silly. I know their teasing hurt but letâs move past it. Can you really blame them for thinking it sounds like a made up fairytale? Put yourself in their shoes.â
Charles sighs. âI guess youâre right ... I just want them to respect you.â
âThey will, in time,â you say gently. âBut forcing them to be overly formal wonât accomplish that. Iâm still just me.â
Charles nods reluctantly. âOkay fine, weâll do it your way.â
You turn back to the drivers who are trying to act natural and pretending that they didnât just listen in on your conversation with a bright smile. âIâve heard so much about all of you,â you say. âCharles speaks very highly of his fellow drivers.â
âWeâre, uh, happy to finally meet you too,â Max manages to get out.
âYeah, congrats mate,â Daniel offers weakly.
More awkward silence follows. Charles smirks, deciding to twist the knife a bit more.
âI know you all had your doubts about me landing a catch like Y/N,â he says casually. âBut I canât blame you. Even I can hardly believe someone so incredible would fall for me.â
He gazes at you adoringly as you blush prettily while the drivers fidget uneasily.
âAnyway, as you can now see, sheâs real and we are happier than ever!" Charles concludes brightly.
âWeâre really sorry for not believing you,â Lando bursts out sincerely. âAnd all the teasing.â
The others chime in with apologies and congratulations. Charles graciously accepts, reassuring them no hard feelings.
After you have throughly charmed them all and departed, the group surrounds Charles excitedly.
âAlright, you have to give us all the details,â Max demands. âHow did you meet? How did you get her to go out with you? When did it get serious?â
Charles just laughs. âItâs a long story. But the important thing is that sheâs the only one for me. Despite everyone doubting us, our love was real from the start.â
âPretty epic to have a real life princess as your soulmate,â Pierre says dreamily.
âJust remember you knew me back when you all thought she was imaginary,â Charles jokes.
âWeâll never live it down,â Carlos groans goodnaturedly.
Charles smiles, feeling lighter and happier than he has in ages. The long struggle to prove himself has been worth it. Now he has everything â the win, the girl, and the utter shock and joy of proving to the world that even his wildest dreams can come true.
And this is only the beginning for him and his beloved princess.
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Eddie started finding notes in his locker his sophomore year. The first couple of them, he just tossed without reading. He didnât need to read what those asshole bullies wanted to say about him. But curiosity won out after two weeks of constant notes and he finally opened one. It was the single most impactful thing heâd ever read.Â
I think youâre the prettiest boy Iâve ever seen.Â
He kept that note. And every other note he got from that point on. If anyone were to ask Eddie what he regretted most in his life, it would be those two weeks of notes he tossed without reading. Ten slips of paper with unknown writing that he wishes he could get back. Add them to his âmystery boys notesâ box. And he was a mystery, the note writer. Anonymous. Unknown. Impossible to catch.Â
Eddie held out for a month. A whole month before he decided to stage a stake out. He watched his locker like a hawk. In between classes, during classes, lunch, after school and even one absolutely horrible day where he came in an hour before school started. But the mystery boy had to be invisible. He never saw anyone approach his locker but his daily note was always there. And Eddie; poor, unfortunate, infatuated Eddie dealt with mystery boysâ notes from â82 to â85. Four agonizing years of the most heart-warming, loving notes.Â
I wish I was as brave as you.
Did you change your shampoo? Your hair looked so soft today.
God, your eyes have to be the biggest fucking eyes Iâve ever seen. So pretty.
I like how long your hair is getting.Â
Saw you walking down the hall today and Iâve never wanted to kiss someone more.Â
They started cute. Compliments here and there, even a doodle every once in a while. Hearts and smiley faces. But as the months and years went by, the mystery boy got deeper. Confessions and secrets.Â
I think if I had a different dad, we wouldâve been best friends.
Can you fall in love with someone youâve never talked to?
I dream about us.Â
Iâm a boy. Iâm sorry.
I want to hold your hand. Those rings are something else.Â
I saw you trying to catch me. Adorable.
I wish I could take you on a date. Not give a shit what my dad would say or what people would think.Â
I wish I could be brave enough to talk to you.Â
Youâre still the prettiest boy Iâve ever seen.
Iâm graduating this year. Iâm sorry it didnât work out for you. I think Iâm going to try to figure out a way to keep dropping these off next year. I donât want you to forget about me.
The notes didnât continue when the school year started. Eddie was embarrassed to admit he cried that first night. He wasnât sure how the mystery boy was going to be able to get the notes to him but he fully believed it was going to happen. He went five weeks with no daily note in his locker. And then, it showed up on a Monday. He almost missed it, the tiny slip of paper.Â
Sorry this took so long. Had to figure out how I was going to sneak these in here. I donât think Iâll be able to call you pretty every day of the week this time around but Iâm going to try my best!Â
And mystery boy was right. The notes were always there on Monday. Just Monday. But Eddie didnât complain. One note a week after five weeks of nothing almost had his heart bursting from his chest. It also narrowed down his search. Sort of. Mystery boy was either coming in on those Mondays to drop off the note, sneaking in on the weekends when the school was empty OR after school on Fridays. And look, heâs failed to graduate high school two times in a row now but he wasnât stupid. Did it take him three months after the notes to start again for him to realize who it was? Yes but to be fair, for two of those months it was Eddie wallowing in denial.Â
Five weeks into school was when he restarted Hellfire. Three weeks before that was when he brought in those new little freshman sheepies. The same freshman sheepies that got picked up by Steve Harrington. Steve Harrington who graduated last year. Steve Harrington who he catches staring at him from his beemer in the parking lot every Friday night before he takes the kiddies home. Steve who he categorizes as someone who is so far out of his league that it just couldnât be him. But itâs been three months and there isnât any other former Hawkins high student running around in or near the school. And now that Eddieâs almost certain Steve has been mystery boy these past few years, he canât wait. Heâs been in love with a figure made out of slips of paper for four years and his nonexistent patience has truly run thin. Â
He calls for a break 15 minutes before they normally end their sessions. Tells the boys he needs to run to the bathroom and almost sprints out the door. His locker sits in the hallway just around the corner of the drama room. The door closing shut echos through the empty hallways, alongside the squeaks coming from his shoes as he hustles towards his locker. He freezes as soon as he turns the corner.Â
Steve probably only had 30 seconds after hearing the door open and shut to process what he was going to do. He couldâve run or hid, maybe pretend like he just needed the bathroom while he waited. But Eddie watched him pause as they made eye contact instead. Watched as Steve looked him up and down. Watched him relax and lean back against the lockers behind him with a lazy smirk. His arm slowly moved up and Eddie could see a slip of paper held between his fingers. Steve didnât break eye contact with him at all as he proceeded to shove the paper between the vents of his locker. They stayed like that for what felt like hours. Staring. Broken when Steve pushed himself off the wall and walked towards him. He didnât stop. Side stepped around Eddie before they could collide. A faint brush of his fingers along the back of his hand as he walked past him. And Eddie just watched him pass. Just like he watched him slip that note in his locker, he watched Steve walk back down the hall and out the front doors.
He waited only five seconds after the doors closed behind Steve before he jogged over to his locker. Grabbed the note and shoved it into his pocket before running back over to the drama room. Told the guys that they stopped at a decent spot and would meet again next Friday. Walked with them to the parking lot to head home. To catch a glimpse of Steve. And there he was, sitting in his beemer, staring again. This time though, Eddie smiled at him. He smiled at him and pulled the note out of his pocket. Opened it right there in the parking lot while he stared back at Steve. It only took him a few seconds to glance down to read. And as soon as he did, he threw his head back and laughed. Cackled really. He looked back at the beemer and saw Steve with the widest grin. Watched him lift his fingers off the steering wheel and wiggle them at him before he started pulling out of the lot. He looked back down at the note in his hand and chuckled again. Who knew Steve Harrington knew DnD well enough to draw a perfect rendition of an eight sided dice?
Wanna go on a d8? - Steve Harrington xxx-xxx-xxxx
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intertwined. | preview
pairing: gojo satoru x f!reader
setting: omegaverse!au, university!au
genre: angst, smut, some fluff
contains: yandere, estranged childhood friends to enemies to lovers, mentions of self-identity issues, dubious consent, obsessive behavior, loss of virginity, mutual(ish) pining, gojo is bad at expressing his feelings so heâs kinda a jerk, lovesick!gojo
summary: you just want to lose your virginity, no strings attached. how could you have known that gojo satoru is in love with you?
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
release date: tbd | ask for taglist if interested
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âI want you to take my virginity.â
Satoruâs cocky grin wipes clean off his face. His stare goes blank and his jaw drops open comically wide. For the first time in the twenty-one years youâve known him, Gojo Satoru is at a loss for words.
âWe never have to talk again afterwards,â you add quickly, your cheeks starting to heat up in embarrassment. âThis is just gonna be a one-time thing.â
Satoru is silent, expression tense as he observes you carefully. His crystal blue eyes seem to darken a few shades as he takes your hand in his. His thumb strokes once, slowly over the back of your knuckles.
âJust a one-time thing,â he repeats languidly, lips stretching into a smile that doesnât quite reach his eyes.
Perhaps if you werenât so focused on the rapid, frantic beating of your own heart, you wouldâve noticed Satoruâs gaze wanderâonly to lock right on the clear patch stubbornly covering your neckâs scent gland. You wouldâve seen the way his pupils dilate and his tongue swipes over his lips, with hunger written all over his face.
âWell then,â he all but rasps out, voice thick with desire. Without warning, he pulls your body against his with ease, trapping you in the warmth of his arms. Satoru rests his forehead against yours, letting out a groan that is too soft, too vulnerable, too intimate.
Heâs so big, you realize. You can hardly believe that you once stood a whole head taller than him. Satoru towers over you, his lean frame completely dwarfing you. His large hands squeeze at your waist as he presses a barely-there, tender peck to your forehead.
You feel like you canât breathe.
âI hope you know what youâve gotten yourself into, sweetheart.â
Youâve heard stories about what heâs like in bed; itâs inevitable that as the most desired alpha on campus, heâs gotten around. You donât expect tenderness or care; if you did, Gojo Satoru is the dead last person to approach. Youâre waiting for him to start man-handling you, tearing your clothes off, chasing after the carnal pleasure that only sex can bring. Youâve prepared yourself for that.
Instead, Satoru cups your pretty face between his large hands, running his thumb along your cheekbone. His blue eyes are a swirling pool of emotions, burning with not only lust but something deeper. âBeen waitinâ so long for this.â His hushed whisper falls on deaf ears as he leans in to kiss you.
You let out a surprised squeak as his lips press against yours; this isnât how things are supposed to go. Youâre not here to play romance with Satoruâyet, the slow gentle kisses heâs giving you and the gentleness with which heâs holding you are cutting it too close.
âW-Wait,â you gasp out, pulling away to catch your breath. Satoru is panting too, cheeks flushed pink as he stares at you like a man dying of thirst discovering an oasis. His hand trails down your side to rest on your waist, pulling himself forward so he can drop his head against your shoulder. âWhat are yââ your words die in your throat as you feel his nose nudge against the most vulnerable part of you.
âYou smell so fuckinâ goodâŠâ His groan against your neck reverberates through your entire body, shaking you to your very core. Your internal alarm flares to life, blaring loudly in warning. You canât even pay much attention to that, though, not whenâ
âY-You do, tooâŠâ The words leave you before you can even process them. You knees feel like jelly as his scent washes over you, deep, musky and addicting. Satoru stiffens against you, huffing out a short breath of frustration.
âYouâre gonna kill me.â You feel it. You feel his teeth scrape against the spot your mating bond would be. Satoru knows just as well as you do that you donât have one, and that if you had things your way, that would never change. He teases the edge of the bandage covering your scent gland, rolling it between his teeth. Your fingers curl into his shirt, tugging nervously.
âN-Not there,â you protest, stumbling over your words in panic. Satoru pauses, and for three very long seconds, neither of you move. The only thing you can hear the is the pounding of your own heartbeat, his shallow pants against your neck, and the hum of the air conditioning.
Heâs close, too closeâyouâre terrified of what heâs capable of, only because you donât know if you can count on your own willpower to stop him. Youâre slowly going limp in his arms, becoming nothing but putty in between his fingersâyouâve never felt so weak.
You hate how he makes you feel. Youâve always hated how he makes you feel. Weak. The world has always told you that you are. Youâre nothing but a little omega whose only fate is to be a strong alphaâs obedient mate. Youâve fought back, resisted, protestedâyet, Gojo Satoru has always managed to put you right back in your place.
This time is no different. Once again, you find yourself at his mercy. Your stomach boils with bitterness, with anger, with hatred⊠with longing.
Too slowly, he pulls away from your neck, only to lock eyes with you. âRight.â Satoruâs lips quirk into a crooked grin. âThis is just a one-time thing, huh?â
You recognize that smile.
Itâs the one that Satoru gave when he broke his mamaâs favorite vase and blamed the cat. Itâs the one that Satoru gave when he stole a candy bar from the store and got caught by the cashier. Itâs the one that Satoru gave when he claimed you were no more than a stranger and left you to fend for yourself through high school.
Heâs lying.
Far too late, you realize youâd made a big mistake.
-
authorâs note: i canât even lie this little word vomit was just a way to get some gojo thirst off my chest. iâm not even sure if iâll ever get around to writing a full fic because iâve been planning this in my head for weeks and thereâs so much i want to include. yet i have too little time because of uni :(
if you are interested in being part of a taglist just in case i ever actually get around to writing the full fic, just let me know in the replies.
thank you for reading this far :)
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Have you ever thought about the idea of a Clueless ace reader x ace alastor trying to figure out what all the fuss is about? Couple different ways it could go obviously but I feel like it would be a perfect comedy smut
Thank you for this meal. Okay I know this is LOOSELY based on your prompt, please forgive me. Can I add in that they be a little tipsy?
After a few drinks, you and Alastor do your usual teasing and mimicking of the others dramatic displays of physical affection. But, unusually, Alastor seems to be really invested in the joke tonightâŠ
Warnings/promises: light smut (fingering), wrong kind of haha, sconces, bad Angel accent, Under 1500 words
maybe the tag list?
Works list: @ xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx
Alastor list: @celestial-vomit , @amurtan
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Fuck Joke Around and Find Out
The evening started with drinks among the group gathered at the bar. Everyone talking, sipping, leaning into each other to be heard better. Vaggieâs fingers playing with Charlieâs, Angel inching closer and closer to Husk until he was quite literally on top of him, to Huskâs obvious embarrassment. At some point, Angel took Huskerâs hand, the two slinking down the hallway. Soon after, Vaggie not-so-discreetly followed a bouncing Charlie to their top floor home.
After realizing the couples snuck off, you turned to Alastor and asked, already smiling, âOh I guess itâs our turn?â
Your giggling slipped into mutual cackles, his brows rose and he asked, âYour room or mine?â
You threw your leg over Alastorâs lap and straddled him, mustering your best Angel Dust accent, âPssst rooms are for squares, baby.â
Normally, especially when having a little to drink, the physical barrier between each other was thin and easily toppled. An unspoken understanding had formed some time ago, allowing you both to relax a little more than usual when in close proximity. He still attempted his touchy intrusions to fluster and bother people, but he knew that didnât work quite as effectively on you.
âSquares? Oh, not us.â A smirk, his head somewhat dramatically shaking a reinforced ânoâ, making his bobbed hair sway left and right.
When you start a pitifully-motivated grinding against him, losing balance and tipping backward, Alastorâs large hands come to the dip of your hips and still you. A laughed, accent-less, âThanks, trying to do it like he did,â fell sloppily from your mouth, your hands going to his shoulders for extra security. Your head bent down, stifling another nervous giggle from spilling out. âI think this is exactly how Angel had Husk pinned. Not a convincinâ portrayal, pookie?â Your accent was shit, but he smiled all the same. His ears were pressed down and to the side, resting a little more against his skull than usual, something that seemed to happen often when he had a couple glasses. It looked more relaxed than his normal way of wearing them, but you never asked him about it.
Alastorâs finger tipped your chin upward, pulling you in for a kiss against his grin. When you huffed, fighting the awkward laugh, he swiped his tongue over your lips and slid into your mouth. A hum, as you relaxed into it. What a long joke this is, you think somewhere a little up and to the left of your liquor softened mind.
When alone together, youâd occasionally play around. Just mimicking what ridiculous things the other sinners had done recently, laughing and moving on to general gossip and conversation. Maybe the alcohol was dragging out the bit.
His hands pulled you forward, your little hip movements actually making contact with his crotch now. You hear yourself moan into his mouth before you even realize youâd made the noise.
Thinking becoming a little fuzzy, you pull back from him, âOops. Sorry. Got carried away.â
âNo need to apologize. Whatâs a little joking around between pals?â
You nod before a surprised shriek is forced out of you, Alastor pulling your hips down and starting to sincerely grind against you.
âI didnât expect you to remember all the moves, Alastor.â Your hand came to your mouth trying to still the tremble of your lips as you spoke. Other hand now gripping his shoulder to stay upright. Youâd never have played around with any one else but him like this. Too much confusion to deal with after. But, Alastorâs âplayingâ was so convincing. You werenât minding it, to your surprise, but you werenât sure you understood the source material as well he did.
His head fell back with a roar, âBeing an infrequent lover doesnât mean I am a bad one.â
Oh. Was the blush on your face noticeable in the dingy light of the parlor? You had never heard him say that word before. His hips were still moving, but the laughing stopped. It wasnât unpleasant, in fact you found yourself sinking a little more, letting your weight settle fully. It earned you a sloppy half-smile from him. âThat would make them experts, compared to us,â You motioned your head in the general direction of the stairs.
âYou think so?â, he leaned up to kiss you, you leaned back a little, causing his lips to miss yours. A quick annoyed glare passed over his face before slipping back into a neutral stare, âAre you in the mood for a good joke tonight, dear? I wouldnât be opposed to making youâ, he grazed his nose against yours, âlaugh.â
You let him capture your mouth with his, a surprisingly more intense kiss, before pulling away again when you caught another moan rising up, âI donât mind a good laugh, now and then.â Did you-you say that or Angel-you?
The sofa cushions were pressing into your back before you could process what had happened. Alastorâs body was resting between your legs, which were spread open around him. His lips didnât leave yours, one of his hands cradling your neck to trap you between him and his hungry mouth. The other was undoing the button of your pants and sliding under the band of your underwear.
His back was arched, his considerable height forcing him to bend over you if he wanted to continue the kiss, which he apparently did. Now on your back, you wiggled under him, awkward and uncertain what role you played anymore.
When his fingers slipped past your bottom lips and the mound of his hand ground into your clit, you pulled away from him and both hands shot to your mouth. You were aware you were in a public space but you couldnât see anything past the sofa. Everything beyond him and the tattered chaise lounge was shadowy and lacking contrast. Even then, your heart was pounding.
When did the playing around shift? Was thisâ- did he think this was funny? His smile was strong against your neck still, but maybe not?
You splayed your fingers out to better hide yourself, embarrassed at how your hips rolled into his palm. Looking past your hands, you could see him staring down at you now, wide shoulders hiding you from the light of the sconces above. He had the same look as always in his eyes, nothing out of place.
Cooly, he asked without actually wanting an answer, âDo you think this is what theyâre doing now? Or is everyone alreadyâŠâ
A finger slipped down and into you, your legs clenching around his hips. You heard him sigh, before a second finger began to push in. Your hips lifted off the sofa and angled into his hand, welcoming the way he was pressing down and into you.
Oh, yeah, no.
A pent up moan tumbled past your lips when his fingers crooked up and pressed into the soft bundle of nerves just inside your entrance.
âWhat a curious laugh you have, my dear. Are my jokes that good?â He buried his face into the crook of your neck again when a voice stopped him from leaving the little marks he had been set on.
âI thought jokes were supposed to be funny. When is the funny part going to happen?â
Alastorâs ears were pin-straight into the air, hair stiff and sharp, as his face slowly turned to the side to see Niffty sitting at the bar.
âOh, was I suppose to leave when everyone else did?â
His hand slipped out of you and then in turn, your pants.
âNo, Niffty, dear. Thatâs quite alright.â, Ears faced back and down, eyes half lidded and smile clearly forced, âWe were justâ playing around.â
âReally? Cuz it kinda looked like you guys were gonna fuck.â She hopped off the bar stool and scurried down the hall, âPlease donât dirty the sofa, sir.â echoing behind her.
You patted his shoulder, lifting yourself up on your elbows, âCan I be Husk next?â
I wrote this while washing dishesâ the dishes arenât very clean but neither am I
àŒ»MasterlistàŒș
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â§Ë đđđđđđđđđđđđ đđđđđđđ đđđđđđ đđđ â dazai, chuuya, akutagawa, atsushi & tetchou .àłàż
Ëⶠđđđđđđđđ â female reader, n/sfw content (mdni), fluff + crack some of y'all will get second hand embarrassment, prolly the only thing i'll write about period sex, breaking the bed, spicy cunnilingus, accidental anal, reader hits her head in one of these but dw it's fine, overall just some silly stuff ! wc for each character is like 300-400 words long :) not proofread !
Ëⶠđđđđ â i've been putting this off for too long đ anyways, happy reading and enjoy ! also is it tetchou or tecchou idfk how to spell this dude's name đ
"Nghh - fuuckâ you're s'good at this, angelâ" Dazai moaned, encouraging you to bounce on him faster. He had you in reverse cowgirlâ watching your ass bounce on his pelvis as you jumped up and down on his cock, desperately trying to chase that release you've been working for.
"Feelsâ feels so g-good!" You cried out, pretty nails digging into his thigh, making him let out a pornographic moan - which made you clench on him even more.
Dazai groaned, grabbing handfuls of your ass and spreading them apart to see the mouthwatering view of your cunt greedily swallowing his cock. That's when he saw little streaks of blood coating his cock - mixed with your slick and his precum... and he realized that you must be starting your period.
If Dazai was being completely honest - he didn't really care about the blood, and no way he was stopping right nowâ when you're riding him so deliciously and looking so fucking sexy while doing it - he'd be insane (like he isn't already) if he were to stop you now. Plus, he didn't want you to get embarrassedâ no, that's the last thing he wanted.
He definitely told you after sex, though. He was like, "oh yeah, you're on your period, by the way." It kind of shocked you how casual he was about it - which he noticed, of course. He'd laugh at your bewildered face, chuckling as you ask him if he's not grossed out. He'd wave you off, "sweetheart, do you think i'm a boy? Trust me, a little bit of blood doesn't bother me."
You were about to reply when a cramp hit you straight in the guts - making you hiss out and curl into yourself in pain. Dazai frowned, quickly sitting next to you to brush your hair out of your face - "you alright, sweet girl?" You groaned in response, "mm - yeah, j-just these damn period cramps are killing me."
Dazai pretended to think for a bit, even rubbing his finger on his chin to add the extra effect, making you roll your eyes at his silly antics. he looked deep in thought for a moment until you heard him snapping his finger, pointing at you with a wink - "aha! I know exaaactly how to get rid of your cramps." Your eyebrows pinched together at his words, knowing it's gonna be something dumb.
"Let's go for another rounâ oumph!" You threw a pillow at him, resulting him falling backwards on his butt. "I knew you were gonna say that!" You groaned, kicking your legs - snickering at the way he rubs his bottom. "Gosh, you are just the meanest, aren't you?" He whined - making you giggle, "oh? well, that would make you the horniest!"
"Hey! I was serious - it really worksâ oumph!"
You were currently face-down, ass-up on Chuuya's lavish bedâ as he pushed your face further into the pillow, cunt greedily sucking his fat cock in. He didn't even bother with taking off your clothesâ just ripping them and grumbling about buying you new ones when you went to protest.
"Arghâ shhiiiit- takin' m-me s'well, babydoll," growling, he pulled you up by your hair - back against his chest and fuck, you could feel him in the deepest part of you - hammering inside of your puffy pussy while reaching a free hand to play with that tiny clit. "Chuuyaâ C-chuuya!" You squealed, face landing on the pillow with an "oof!" as he pushed you back against it. "S-shut it, fuâck! 'yer so tight," he almost whimpered, hand untangling itself from your hair to pinch and tweak at your nipples - before landing a mean smack on your ass.
He was speeding up - almost at an inhuman pace, as the headboard continuously slammed against the wall. But the both of you failed to notice the cracking noise - too lost in the pleasure, before the bed came crashing down.
'fuck, you're doin' so good baâ whAT THE FUCKâ?!" Chuuya screeched as you both fell on the floor along with the broken bed. "Shit - are you okay, baby?" He quickly checked you for any injuriesâ only to see that you were still dazed, your mouth agape and eyes glossed overâ too cockdrunk to even process that the bed broke.
âArghâ fuck it,â he thought, just going back to pounding your cunt as if it didnât just break down. Making his pretty girl gush all over him was way more importantâ and plus, he could easily buy another bed.
You scolded him after getting your back blown out. But he couldnât care less, if he was being completely honest.
In reality, it actually turned him on even moreâ his new goal from now on is breaking the bed everytime while fucking - from the sheer force of it. So um.. goodluck walking..?
You were cuddled up on the couch with your boyfriend of 6 months, watching a cute movie when you suddenly felt something stiff poking against your assâ how cute, you thought - biting your lip as you ground back against him, earning a sharp gasp from Atsushi.
Things escalated from that to you being on top of himâ fervently making out, shy fingers digging into the plush of your hips as you continued grinding on his dickâ moaning into each other's mouths.
Eventually you ended up on your back, with Atsushi rutting into you fast and hard as you threw your head back. He was inexperiencedâ but you had to say, what he lacked in technique, he made up for in enthusiasm. His face was buried in your neck, letting out puffs of hot air as he suppressed the urge to bite down on your shoulder and mark you upâ he didn't want to hurt or scare you off.
"Ohâ god, 'sushi that feels soâ" you moaned, lips parting as you silently begged for a kiss - to which he gladly complied. "Fuckâ yes, s'goodâ!" Atsushi moaned, eyes rolling back slightly as you clamped down on him further, you were close and so was he.
But somehow, he managed to slip out of your tight cuntâ making him whine and quickly try to push it back in, desperate to feel your warm walls around him again. He slipped in with some issuesâ it felt like you had gotten tighter but he didn't mind. Holy shit though, it felt so much warmer and tighter noâ "OW OWâ! ATSUSHI!"
He immediately jumped upon hearing your pained shriek, "what's wroâ" "Pull out - right now!" You sneered, glaring at him as he complied. "That was the wrong holeâ you idiot!" You scolded, but your gaze got softer when you saw him sulking - he didn't mean to hurt you!
"I- I'm so sorryâ it just accidentally slipped out a-and then I tried to push it back in andâ" he was speaking really fast, trying his best to explain himself before you put your hand up, palm against his chest.
"I get itâ sorry for yelling at you," you sighed, wrapping your arms around his neck as you climbed onto his lap. He nodded, still sulking because he felt so guiltyâ god, he just can't do anything righâ
"Don't beat yourself up for it, okay? It wasn't your fault," you spoke as if you could read his mind, making him relax his tensed shoulders as he nodded.
..You two just decided to continue the movie and cuddle the night away.
Akutagawa had you backed up against some large shelves inside a storage room, while you two were on a mission. He'd normally prefer to have you somewhere elseâ somewhere more private and comfortable but you just had to be a damn tease the whole fucking day, and now he's finally got his hands on you.
"Soâ fuckingâ desperateâ" each word that fell from his chapped lips were accompanied by a mean thrust, the tip of his cock brushing against that one spot inside of your walls. He had you completely trapped against the large set of shelves with rashĆmonâ leaving you with no ways to escape him. "Haahâ d-did a little bending g-get you this worked u-up?" You added fuel to the fireâ making his right eye twitch in annoyance, what a lousy mouth you had.
He said nothing, thoughâ only speeding his pace up, as heavy breaths and pants left himâ an unusual flush spread across his cheeks. "You reallyâ shit!â d-don't know when to shut the fuck up," he growled, as a pale hand found your titsâ slapping the jiggling fat before landing a harsh slap to each.
Your back arched with each pound of his hips into your gooey cuntâ both of you feeling lightheaded from the pleasure circulating through your veins. So lightheaded in fact, you both somehow failed to notice the heavy book on top one of the shelves inching closer and closer towards the very edgeâ a small impact against the wood would most likely make it fall.
"ohâ AkuOWWâ!" And fall it didâ right on top of your head before it bounced off and fell on the floor. You yelled in pain, the dull pain making you head throb. Akutagawa just...pausedâ eyes wide like a deer caught in the headlights. He didn't know what to sayâ should he ask if you're okay? He's never been good at this stuff â so he just.. kinda... stood there and stared.
Made sure you're alright after he was over the initial shock, though â telling you that you should've seen it coming, earning him a few curses from you.
Tetchou had you spread on the couch, strong hands holding your thighs against your chest, giving him a perfect view of the soaked cunt he was about to devour.
"You look so pretty between my legs," you cooed, running your fingers through his burgundy locks. "Yeah? Well, I wish you could see my view, gorgeous girl," he spoke while nibbling the insides of your thighsâ placing sloppy, open mouthed kisses wherever his lips could reach. His face was lightly flushed pink â your praises always made him hot and bothered, it encouraged him to do even better â make you feel even better.
A small moan caught in your throat when your boyfriend slowly peeled away the slick-soaked panties from your juicy cunt, pulling them down your legs before flinging them off somewhere. The cold night air hitting your bare sex made you try to clench your thighs back together â but to no avail, as Tetchou kept them apart firmly. He felt himself salivating at the sight of your exposed cunt â wanting to dive right in.
And dive right in he did, licking a fat stripe up your cunt, collecting your juices on his tongue before smearing them all over your clit, feeling your thighs shake and tummy clench at the stimulation. "Don't hold them back f'me," he let out a muffled grunt. "Your moans â don't hold 'em back," he clarified, before shamelessly shaking his head back and forth on your cunt â causing you to arch your back as your fingers tightened their grip on his hair.
"A-ah, Tetchouâ" you threw your head back with a whine, trying to lift your hips up to grind into his mouth, to which he responded to by pushing you even further into the couch, "don't move," he panted, basically growling into your pussy. He couldn't help but hump into the couch â way too turned on by your pleasure.
It was all going great â amazing even, until you felt a light burn on your cunt, confusion lacing all your features. It didn't take long for the burning sensation to build up â the pleasure slowly disappearing, as discomfort kicked in.
"W-wait â Tetchou," you panted, trying to pull his head away from your aching (literally) cunt. Tetchou only growled in response, latching onto your pussy harder â you knew better than to interrupt him during a meal.
But it fucking burned! So you just yelled out, "it burns!" And felt him immediately pause â slowly lifting his head from the spot between your thighs and looking utterly confused, "what?"
"I â I don't know, but my pussy fucking burns," you snapped, worry laced all over your features.
Then suddenly, a look of realization mixed with mortification fills your boyfriend's face. You cocked an eyebrow at him, "what is it?"
"... I forgot I ate those... spicy noodles and... some of the sauce was probably still on my lips...."
©sachiyohâ do not copy, plagiarize and repost my works to any platform, reblogs are very appreciatedâĄ
tags ă» @hopefulpain @inkmooon @constant-existential-terror @nda-approval @mellieellie @seiiushi @lynxxyyy @kentopedia
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They hear the âdingâ of the elevator as they walk inside the very luxurious building and Robin grabs Steveâs hand and makes them run to the door yelling, âHold! Please!â
A hand covered in rings and with short nails painted black appears from inside and holds the door for them. They get in as Robin breathes out little âthank yousâ under her breath and Steve smiles at the gentleman who helped them. His brows go up a little at how handsome the man is. Heâs wearing black dress pants and a black silk shirt under an also black suit jacket. The whole look is expensive and the man wears it very well. With his long curly hair tied at the back of his neck, plus the rings, the nails, and the surprising amount of piercings in his ears, he looks like a rockstar. He has a cute nose and full lips that look very enticing and big beautiful brown eyes that are looking back at him.Â
Steve smiles once more and nods politely figuring he should stop staring. They have to go up like a billion floors or something so this is going to be a long elevator ride. Probably shouldnât make their traveling companion uncomfortable.Â
He distracts himself by looking at Robin, fixing her hair behind her ear. She looks great. Slack pants and a tight dress shirt in grey tones with black suspenders adorned with metal cufflinks. Short hair loose and just the right amount of disheveled and a graphic eyeliner so sharp it could cut you. He would know. He did her makeup. They were asked to dress party chick but professional, which neither of them knew what the hell meant but Steve is pretty sure Robin nailed it. He just hopes he did a good job too.
Heâs wearing a white thigh shirt of a soft material he couldnât for the life of him remember the name of and black dress pants, the ones that fit him like a second skin, paired with a big leather belt, just to add a little extra. He tries to inconspicuously check himself out in the mirrors of the elevator but accidentally meets eyes with the well-dressed man again. Who adverts his gaze quickly and Steve realizes he just caught him checking him out. He smiles to himself and looks down bashfully only to be horrified by what he notices because, his white shirt? The stupid fabric he canât name? Totally sheer. Well not totally, but a little. Like he can see his nipples right now a little.
Oh my god. Oh my god.
âRobin, we need to go.â he suddenly says grabbing Robin by the back of the elbow.Â
Robin turns to him previously just nervously watching the floor numbers change and frowns worried, âWhat? We are already here, Steve! What do mean?â
âI need to go home and change Robin! I canât-â He whispers to her, although he knows itâs in vain, thereâs no way the handsome man isnât about to hear a very embarrassing conversation.Â
âWe are literally in the elevator. We are not going back home so you can change!â Robin huffs annoyed now that she knows it wasnât anything more serious, âWhatâs wrong with your clothes?â she asks pinching his shirt between her fingers.
Steve turns his back to the man and crowds Robin, facing her, âCan you see my nipples?â he asks trying to keep his voice low but he hears a cough that sounds suspiciously like a chuckle behind him.Â
Robin looks at him like heâs lost his mind but, as always she goes with it, âYes?âÂ
Steve puts his palms over them and gasps and Robin starts laughing âWhat are you doing?â she says between giggles at the same time Steve exclaims, âI canât show our new boss my nipples!âÂ
âSteve, what?! I thought it was on purpose! You know, just a peek, a little chess hair, a little nipple.â Robin says still laughing but stops when she sees Steve is looking actually distressed.Â
She huffs and runs her hands up and down his arms comfortingly.
âWhy would I want to show them my nipples!â Steve groans and Robin shrugs.
âItâs sexy? We were asked to dress for a partyâ
âWhy would I want to look sexy for work?â Steve asks again, still trying to convince Robin to let him go home and change.
But Robin tilts her head to the side, âBut you canât turn that off, though? Like, you are always sexy.â
Instantly his mood changes and he smiles and coos at her, âAww, thatâs so sweet, babe! But you are biasedâŠâ
Robin scoffs at being babied and raises an eyebrow, âHow am I biased?â
âBecause you love me!â Steve answers like itâs obvious. And Robin nods as if taking in the information.
âOkay. I see your biases and I raise you the following point: Itâs objective. Because Iâm a lesbian.â
Steve laughs, but heâs not the only one. For a second, Steve had forgotten they had an audience member. A very handsome audience member. He blushes, the guy must think heâs such an idiot. But at least he thinks they are funny. He turns back to his side and smiles at him again.Â
But Robin suddenly jumps a little beside him, like she had just noticed him, and says, âStranger! Opinion?â
âRob, no-â Steve starts but Robin leans over him to talk to the man, âShirt. Good? Bad?â She says moving her hands in front of Steve as if she was showcasing him. Steve blushes some more and tries to keep a neutral face. So he ends up just white-man smiling awkwardly.
The man chuckles again and then looks at Steve from top to bottom and back again, âYou look good,â he says smirking.
And Steve's blush deepens. But Robin either doesnât notice or is enjoying it, because she keeps questioning him, âGood. What are thinking? Slutty or sexy?â
The man leans his head to the side, his eyes roaming over Steve's chest and Steve has to resist the urge to cover his nipples again.
âItâs sexy.â he says, voice deep and serious as if this was an important conversation and not Robin and Steve being dumbasses, âLike, sophisticated sexy.â
Steve shakes himself to try to make his blush go away and addresses the man, âI- well, thank you, first. And second, Iâm sorry you were dragged into this. But would you want to look sexy meeting your new boss?â he asks him.
He taps his chin in thought and then says, âYour friend is right though, are already here. Just donât flirt with them and you'll be fine!âÂ
At that Steve purses lips and Robin snorts rudely. âThat might be a problem,â she says.
The man laughs surprised and Steve canât help but think he has a really nice laugh, âHow?â he asks them.
âSteve has a little miscommunication problem,â Robin explains, âWhen he tries to be charming people think he's flirting.â
Steve crosses his arms and huffs making the few locks that fall on his forehead lift a bit and fall back down, âI have no idea what Iâm doing wrong! Iâm just trying to be nice..â
The man is looking at him with raised eyebrows and he blinks a couple of times before snickering, âLooks like your friend is right, again. You just canât turn sexy off, uh?â
Robin laughs really hard at that and Steve goes back to full tomato status.
âI could've tried!â he says, not even sure what are they arguing about anymore.
âHow?â Robin asks him amused.
âI donât know, a big sweater? Something knitted, comfy?â he tries but they both shake their head at him.
âThat sounds sexy too,â The man says and Steve frowns,
âLiterally. How?âÂ
âIt gives off fuck vibes. Like you are really fuckable,â he says, and then his eyes go wide and he bites his lips.
Robinâs eyes go wide too and she snorts, looking at Steve who is just staring at the guy with his mouth hanging slightly open.
âSorry!â the man says, raising his hands in mock surrender, âThat was so out of line- I- oh! Saved by the bell it seems,â he says when the elevator dings, âThis is my floorâ
The doors open and Argyle and Jon are on the other side and Steve realizes, this is also their floor.
âEddie!â Argyle says as the man moves towards him and they shake hands enthusiastically.Â
âSteve, Robinâ Jon greets them with a smile as they slowly walk out of the elevator, watching Eddieâs deer-in-the-headlights expression.
âAh! I hope you had a pleasant elevator ride and didnât do anything awkward!â Argyle jokes completely oblivious, âIâm a little sad I didnât get to introduce you guys!â
â...What do you mean?â Robin asks with a forced smile.
âSteve, Robin: This Eddie Munson!â Argyle says moving behind Steve and Robin and hugging them by the shoulders so they stand directly in front of Eddie, âYour new boss!â
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Neteyam letting his human!girlfriend touch his fangs, markings, tail, ponytail, etc
I love fangs so much, they're always cute no matter what character you put them on. I also wanted to add Lo'ak to this, I hope you don't mind Anon.
Pairing: Neteyam, Lo'ak x Fem!Reader
Tags: fluff, established relationship, biological/species differences, fangs, teasing, misunderstandings, tail shenanigans, biting, purring, cuddles
A/N: I am working on a fic as well but I don't know for which character I'll finish it first. I have a fluffy one with Lo'ak, one with Neteyam and one smutty fic with Quaritch.
NETEYAM
He is a tiny bit hesitant when you ask if you can touch his fangs, you've seen how strong his bite can be
Well as long as you're being careful there's no real harm to it
It feels odd for him to have your thumbs press against them, at the same time your hands are cupping his face, you're getting closer out of curiosity
He can't help but want to kiss you yet he doesn't, instead choosing to focus on something behind you
His tail is what gives him away, it's lightly swaying and tapping the grass behind him as he sits in front of you
When you chuckle he rolls his eyes and moves his hand away, a smile on his lips quickly forms and turns into a gasp when you start to trail your fingers above his markings
He stands completely still as you do so, not even turning around, the only sounds being the forest, his breathing and the little rumblings from his chest
It all changes when you move your closed hand down his ponytail
Neteyam yelps and jumps away, his hands going to close around the base, his mouth open and eyes wide
He was deeply flustered, even more when he realized that since you are a human you probably don't know all the implications of his ponytail and how important of a body part it is for the Na'vi
As he explained it to you he watched your face go from confused to being hidden behind your hands in embarrassment, which lead him to the conclusion that the awkward biology lesson was well worth both his and yours flustered reactions
LO'AK
Lo'ak was overjoyed that you wanted to know more about his nature and biology
He's already very familiar with yours due to having friends, and of course his dad who was a former, human
When he bared his fangs to you and you dragged your fingers against them he playfully bit your fingers
You didn't pull away, you knew he wouldn't hurt you
As you studied his fangs you felt his tail brushing against your hip and lower back before you found yourself pulled against him, the two of you send toppling onto the grass
Lo'ak laughed as you smacked your hands against his chest, only pausing to laugh back when you sat up and looked down at him
His chest rumbled and his eyes closed as you pressed your hands against his chest and up his shoulder, then down his arms, following every line on him until you got to his hands
He loved holding your hands, it made him feel less... different, made him feel like he belonged with you, that you belonged with him, one day part of his family
As you lowered your head to his chest you could better feel the deep rumbles coming from him, feel his arms around you, protective and strong, his tail falling over your lower back, enveloping you
It didn't matter what differences you had, the love you shared for each other was the same
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HAPPY 1K THOUGH LET GO AHHHHHHH IM SO HAPPY FOR YOU
But request time gurl!đđâ, so what about a nerd!Miguel\dom x nerdygirl!reader LIKE IMAGINE THE FLUFF AND THE SMUT THERE BOTH BE A BLUSH MESS but I feel like Miguel would take the lead and show he dom when doing it like dont blame me! đâ like he still nerdy Miguel we all know the sweet boy but let make the nerd that friend s with the popular group and have a girlfriend who is nerdy!reader and which is a very shy person then Miguel is.
Pls my life depends on this request gurl and I hope your having a great day though BYE STILL SO HAPPY FOR YOU EACHING 1k following
-đ
miguel oâhara stars in⊠âOUR FIRST TIMEâ (ïŸÏïŸ)
*ăïŸïœ„*:.ïœĄ..ïœĄ.miguel oâhara x reader.ïœĄ. .ïœĄ.:*ăïŸïœ„*
SMUT
you and your nerdy boyfie, miguel, have your first time together đ©·
cw; loss of virginity, creampie!!!!!, iloveyous, itâs actually really cute, womb fucking ig, softdom!nerd!miguel, NAWT PROODREAD!!!
2k+ words
@cheonstapes: thank you sm lovelieđ©·đ©· apologies it took so long but this was so fun to write and i love your mind. i hope you enjoy beautiful! also tumblr keeps fucking up my italics and bolds so im gonna add them on later!
you and miguel had to have been the most stereotypical couple at the university.
who wouldâve guessed the two biggest nerds on campus wouldâve gotten together â especially when it was because of your shared interest in genetics. but to miguelâs friends, it was so sweet â a little cringe, but sweet. seeing that it had already been a year since you two started dating, the two of you not being able to hold a conversation without stuttering and blushed profusely was quite concerning.
every time you looked him in the eyes, your heart would suddenly beat a million times faster â face flushing, hands trembling as you try to come off as calm as possible. it was so embarrassing, you could cry just thinking about it. he had such pretty eyes hidden behind those thin frames, didnât make it better that he would stare into your soul every time you talked.
but miguel wasnât any better â in fact, he was worse. his whole friendship group being the talk of the college helped miguel to open up more, the persistent attention meaning he had to adapt to being surrounded by people. the incessant staring? thatâs him trying to make himself less nervous by making you more nervous so you would stop looking at him so he could admire you without you realising â long, i know. but he loved how sweet you were, the way you were so deeply in love with him â just like he was with you.
walking out of your biology lecture, he speeds up walking to catch you on the othwr side of the room â gently slipping his hands into yours. you tense, looking up at his handsome face before relaxing â âah, m-miggy!â he smiles so softly, wrapping his beefy arm around your waist. âhey, pretty â you finished for today?â his fingers squeeze the fat of your hips, pulling you into his chest as he leans against a nearby wall.
he always knew how to make you so fucking nervous, staring down at you like you were the centre of his world â which you in fact were. âyeah! i was just gonna go back to my dorm and study. wouldâŠwell, itâs ok if youâre busy â but do you, maybe, wannaâŠâ god, why is it so hard to ask your boyfriend to hangout! he knew what you wanted to ask, he just wanted to hear you say it. âdo i wanna what, hm? i mean â i donât have any plans later either, i was thinking of going to pete-â
âno!â a brief flicker of slight panic takes over your face, you refuse to be that much of a mess to the point where you can even ask your own boyfriend out. âi mean, would you like to come my dorm tonight? t-to study, obviously.â amazing job, girlfriend, amazing job. once again, he wore that stupidly handsome smirk â fingers kneading the soft flesh of your waist. âstudy? of course, babe â why didnât you just ask?â prick.
miguel always said he found it easier to study when you were right next to him â as in, resting in between his legs as your head lay on his chest. âdid you get the answer to number 8? i think i missed that lessonâŠâ you tilt your head, looking up at him. you looked so cute with your little glasses as you studied, a small pout on your lips as you tap on his leg for him to help you out.
he was thinking a lot of things right now, and none of them were the answer for number 8. before he met you, miguel was always deep in his studies â head buried in a textbook every night. but now youâre his, he canât think about anything else. the outline of your chest against your tight shirt, pert nipples straining against the fabric since you insist you feel better without a bra â he wasnât a perv, but damn if you were making him feel like one.
âu-uhâŠi think â uhhhhâŠâ he was really fucked. your cute little giggle and the way you shimmied around to sit on your knees, hands clutching his cheeks. âmigs, youâre burning up! you ok?â he was no ok, not by a long shot. despite having so much attention on him simply because of the people heâs friends with, miguel was still very much a virgin. yeah, heâs jerked off before â but that was only after he met you. your entrance into his life awakened a part of his brain that he thought was forever stored away â and he did not know how to deal with it.
sex was something the two of you were yet to talk about, 2 years into the relationship and it was like you were kids about to have their first kiss. there were lingering touches here and there, but oh how badly he wants to feel your sweet pussy around him. âcan⊠i touch you?â he could barely register the words that came out of his mouth before he takes in the way your face changes completely. the heat radiating from your cheeks could melt the arctic, that was the one thing you werenât expecting to hear. at all.
of course, you were a virgin too â all in all saving yourself for miguel for when the time comes. you just didnât expect it to be so soon. he looked so depraved already, panting softly â hair tousled from when he was laying down, you want him so, so bad. âu-uh, yeah â go ahead!â you didnât mean to sound so enthusiastic, but miguel didnât care â a hand immediately trailing up your plush thighs, toying with the edge of your panties under your skirt. âyouâreâŠyouâre so pretty.â he could feel his hands shaking, heart pounding in his chest â the warmth of your skin and the small moans leaving your lips were fucking with his head.
the tender skin was so sensitive, causing your thighs to tremble under his touch. he didnât expect you to be so sensitive. fuck, did he want to tease you for it, but he couldnât talk â not when he was already about to bust when you havenât even touched him yet. âmmm â m-miggy.. please..touch me.â you could tell he wanted to, he just didnât know where to start. his fingers ran up your inner thigh, teasingly running over the small wet patch on your cute panties.
he felt like a newborn learning how to walk again, the rugged rhythm in which he was working your little clit showed how inexperienced he is â but you didnât care, especially not when you yourself couldnât even notice his lack of technique. he fully pulled your panties down your legs, throwing them to the side â there was a sharp in take of breath from him as he stared at your bare cunt, his bulge pressing harder aganst the mattress.
âg-god, baby, can⊠can i taste you, please?â miguel couldnât believe how desperate he sounded, he had dreamed about eating your pretty, little pussy out for ever now, the thought of you denying him that now would break him. ây-yeah, fuck. please, miggy.â his tongue immediately latched onto your clit, swirling and sucking it into his mouth as his fingers probed your tight hole.
he knew you would need some extra prep to be prepared for taking him, so he made sure to make you feel as good as possible â he wasnât about to let your first time be your worst. the fat of your thighs were tight around his head, holding him in place as he steadily fucked you with his tongue. for someone who was a virgin only 20 minutes ago, he sure knew how to work that tongue â your breathy moans breaking through the sloppy squelching noises of your wetness.
âmigsâŠi â mmph!â the sensation was unknown but not unwelcome. a firm pressure in your tummy that felt like a dam about to burst all over your boyfriendâs face. miguelâs watched enough porn to know what that sound meant, reluctantly sitting up from his position between your legs to peer down at you â drooling cock bobbing between his thighs. he licked your arousal from his lips, shakily grabbing onto your legs to push them over his shoulders.
âbaby, âm not letting you cum until youâve had my cock in you â âs not how it works.â he felt like he was going insane, the sight of your pussy, so tantalisingly close to his length â the chubby tip poking against your entrance. you could only nod, you couldnât argue with that â not when youâve been waiting for this moment. upon getting your approval, he wrapped a beefy hand around his cock â smearing his pre-cum along your puffy folds.
he was so slow when he pushed into you, the sheer girth of him stretching your poor pussy thin. âfuckinâ hell, babyâ s-so, so tight.â his strong hips pounded against your pelvis, your skin tinging a faint shade of red. your body was jostled against the headboard with every thrust, a thick rim of cream forming at his base. miguel was lost in the feeling of your cunt, drooling mindlessly against your neck as he rammed deep inside of you.
âm-miguelâŠ!â the harder he fucked into you, the shakier your voice was â whiny moans and heavy grunts reverberated through your small dorm room. he couldnât believe how good fucking you felt, your velvety walls gripping onto him like a life line. miguel was completely delirious, only letting incoherent mumbles â a bruising grip on your waist as he brings you back against his cock.
âohhh, f-fuckâŠ! iloveyou, so â shit, so much!â your pussy was so good, he didnât even realised it slipped out â i love you. he really did, and in this moment â there was nothing else but the two of you, connecting so beautifully as you give yourselves to each other fully. he messily sucks on the skin just below your ear, simply grinding into your womb as his hand trails down your back â squeezing the flesh of your ass to pull you flush against him.
âiâŠi love you too, migs.â
you..you love him too? fuck. his hips stilled, gooey cum filling your cunt raw as he pours all of his love into you. miguelâs back heaved, his arms giving out under him as he falls on top of you â wrapping an arm around your waist as he carefully rubs your clit. his heart was soaring, smiling down at you as he fucked himself into overstimulation â determined to see you cum all over his cock.
âmy pretty girl, youâre all mine â wanna see you cum. you gonna cum for me, yeah?â god, his voice was husky and deep â tickling your ear and sending tingles down your spine. your legs trembled, cunt spasming as it gushed out that clear liquid. it coated the sheets below you, splashing against his stomach â a low, gravelly moan leaving miguel as he filled you with his cum once again.
the two of you laid in silence for a beat, panting softly as he rested on your chest. one of your hands moved up to cup his face, picking up his glasses from your bedside stand â placing them on his face, albeit with wonkily but it matched that dopey grin on his face. âi swear to god, iâve turned you into an animal, migs! you sure that was your first time?â giggling, you kissed his lips softly â nimble fingers brushing through his sweaty hair.
âguess i got a bit carried away, huh?â he sighed, softly rubbing your tummy. ââs not my fault iâve got the most beautiful, sexiest, most loving, caring, perfect, goddess of a girlfriend anyone could wish for.â
miguel was embarrassingly in love with you, but you wouldnât have it any other way.
-smack myass like a drum
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[4.5K] Steve Harrington x fem!reader 18+
A/N: sorry, no advent blurb today as weâre v tired and v sick and writing doesnât sound fun. but please have an old fic that was once on the masterlist
âThis is a bad idea,â you whispered, shy, nervous, wanting to curl into yourself.
Steve stayed still behind you, your back to his chest, his legs bent and framing your own. His hand stroked over your knee, a safe distance, one that didnât add too much pressure to the situation. The boy pressed a kiss to your cheek, nose nudging your temple. âWe can stop, if you want.â His voice was quiet and filled with soft sincerity. âItâs okay.â
But youâd asked for this, face flushed, squirming on Steveâs bed sheets âcause how on earth did you go from watching Fast Times at Ridgemont High to talking about sex to telling your best friend youâd never had an orgasm?
âWhat?â Heâd asked, face soft with shock. âWhat about those six months you dated that guy, whatshisface? Liam?â
âLewis,â youâd corrected, fingers pulling uncomfortably at the blanket Steve kept at the end of his bed for you. âAnd no, he just couldnât get me there, I guess. Maybe it was me. Itâs gotta be me, I canât even make it happen myself.â
Steve had paused at that, looking at you with parted lips and soft eyes âcause you looked so sad, so frustrated, defeat taking over from the embarrassment youâd felt in admitting such a thing.
âItâs not you,â heâd said, determined. âHe shouldâve taken his time with you orâ or, found out what you liked.â
You huffed out a laugh at that, humourless and tired. You shrugged, hands falling into your lap. âHowâs that fair when I donât even know what I like myself?â
You donât know what happened after that. Just that the movie was paused and the evening outside turned to night, Steveâs blue room turning navy in the shadows, the dull glow of his bedside lamp making your bare legs turn apricot and rosy in the light. His hand looked so big against your knee, like he could swallow you whole.
You asked him. Voice quiet, words making the boyâs cheeks turn pink. Asked him to help, to show you, to tell you what you were doing wrong which sounded so ridiculous, because Jesus Christ, it was your body, for fuck sake.
You sucked in a deep breath. âNo, itâs fine. Iâm justâ being stupid. We can keep going.â
You felt Steve relax a little behind you, his body sinking into the pile of pillows at his headboard, your body falling into his in turn. His thumb drew circles on the side of your knee, a touch youâd felt before: during a horror movie in the dark of the cinema, in the front seat of his car when you cried about a boy who wasnât him, when heâd argued with his dad and you piled yourself into his lap for comfort.
âAre you sure?â Steve whispered and his voice was right by your ear, lips almost touching the shell of it. It made you shiver, spine tingling. âAnd youâre not stupid. This, the way you feel. Itâs not stupid, okay?â
You realised he was waiting for you to answer him, so you nodded, chest tight at his earnest words, always trying to make you feel better. Heâd once told you when you were both only thirteen, that that was his job and heâd proven it true ever since.
âYeah, mâsure.â You let your head rest against his, cheek to his chin, day old stubble rough against your skin. âThanks, Steve.â
A silence swept over you both, not exactly uncomfortable but not an easy one either, not like it usually was. âCause your skirt was hitched up high, the hem of it falling towards the tops of your thighs when youâd bent your knees and sat between Steveâs legs. Heâd patted the space there and your body had burned, but youâd obeyed all the same. His thumb was still rubbing circles and your hands lay awkwardly in your lap until finally, finally, Steve took them in his own and placed them flat over your thighs, his bigger ones covering your fingers.
âSo youâve never, everâ?â
âNo,â you whispered it back, like a dirty secret. Something to be ashamed about. âCan't even manage it myself⊠itâsâ fuck, I donât know.â You choked off your own words, heated embarrassment creeping up the back of your neck.
Steve squeezed your hands, gentle, soothing. âSâokay. Do you, uh, do you try? A lot?â
He sounded nervous too and suddenly you were thankful for this position, eyes hidden from each other, knowing his cheeks would be flushed, too pretty to look at. You sucked in a breath and nodded. âSometimes, yeah. I guess. Itâs justâ I either get interrupted or it doesnât feel right and then the times when it does, I just canât⊠canât. You know.â
âFinish?â Steve supplied helpfully.
You nodded again.
âOkay, uh, why donât youâ do you wanna, try? Show me?â You heard him swallow audibly, Adamâs apple bobbing in his throat and you felt his jaw tense against your temple, where you were leaning against him.
You stiffened, and Steve felt that too, so he tangled his fingers between your own and used his thumb and yours to skim up and down your legs. You wondered if he noticed how warm you were, if he realised you were running so much hotter than before.
âItâs just me,â he whispered to you, head ducked tucked down so he words fell into the crook of your neck. He sounded so soft, familiar, like the sixteen year old whoâd picked you up from your shitty first date and told you that the next boy that hurt you would have to deal with him. âDo you trust me?â
You licked your bottom lip, mouth dry but you made a noise of agreement. âYeah, I trust you.â You felt his smile, felt the affection ripple through him and back into you, âcause you really, really did. More than anyone, you thought.
âWe can stop whenever you want, alright?â Steve said and you bobbed your head, suddenly feeling clumsy, fingers too small between his own, legs splayed out like a broken down China doll. You dug your toes into the mattress and breathed out. âShow me.â Steve whispered again. âShow me what you do.â
It took a second, maybe five, for your heart to stop rattling against your chest, for your bones to stop vibrating. But you took one hand from Steveâs and pressed it between your thighs, hidden under your skirt. Your underwear was still very much on and you were unsure how to go about that, so you squeezed your eyes shut and tried to find your clit the best you could under the cotton, shifting your fingers over the fabric.
Then Steve tsked, a soft sound that didnât come across as reprimanding as it shouldâve, but between that and his hand catching yours again, you stopped, unsure.
âYou normally just dive right in like that?â Steve murmured, rubbing his thumb over your knuckle. âChrist, you gotta be nicer to yourself, babe, you need to relax more.â
âI do?â
Steve laughed quietly, a huff of spearmint breath falling across your cheek and wasnât unkind, it didnât make you shrink like you thought it wouldâve. âWell, yeah,â Steve answered. âYou gotta warm yourself up, right? Get in the mood. Hasnât anyone taken their time with you? Made you feel like, uh, like putty?â
âPutty?â Your lips kicked up at the corners, lashes fluttering as your eyes closed, happy to listen to Steve and the smile in his voice. He sounded shy, and it was lovely, it made you feel better, warmer, ready for what was happening.
âYeah,â he huffed. âYou know, all gooey nâshit. Nice. Relaxed.â Steve sucked in a breath and pressed your joined hands to your thigh, his so much wider and covering much more skin. âYouâre real cute, babe, someoneâs gotta treat you the same way.â
âNo,â you shook your head, trying not to sound too sad about it, âcause Steveâs hand on your bare skin was starting to make you feel real nice, warm, just like he was describing. Except you were anything but relaxed, heartbeat a livewire racing through your bones, a new pulse thrumming, stomach jumping at each touch. âYou think Iâm cute?â
You werenât sure why you asked that, but suddenly, you were desperate to know.
âYou kiddinâ?â Steve said and you could hear the smile there, the one you knew so well. He leaned in, chin hooked over your shoulder when he felt you settle back against him, body more lax than before. His lips brushed your cheek when he spoke. âYouâre the cutest girl in town, dâyou not know that?â
You squirmed, too pleased with his comment but embarrassed all the same. Steve always gave you too much attention but it was the way it had always been, a little flirting over the diner table, his hand on the small of your back when you walked through too big crowds, an offered cheek for you to kiss goodbye when he dropped you home after school.
âShut up,â you whispered, voice thick and quiet and caught in your throat. You didnât mean that. You didnât want him to shut up at all. And Steve knew that.
âNow, if youâre the cutest thing in all of Hawkins,â he continued, emboldened by the way you tucked your head into the crook of his neck, letting your fingers go soft between his own. âDonât you think you gotta be nice to yourself?â
Your breath stuttered and hitched in your chest and despite the nerves that still pinballed around in your stomach, your thighs dropped open a little, the hem of your skirt hitching higher still and Steve swallowed down a curse.
âI donât think I know how.â It was embarrassing, admitting it, cheeks on fire, nose scrunched even though Steve couldnât see.
His hands swept up your thighs, taking yours with them, stopping short of creeping under your skirt before retreating back down to your knees. âLike this,â the boy whispered. âSee? Nice and sweet. Slow.â
You wanted to let your hands fall away, wanted to feel Steveâs rough fingertips and wide palms span over your skin but when you tried to pull away, Steve only tightened his grip. âAh, ah, câmon. You canât learn if I do it for you.â
There was a whine stuck in your throat; a bratty, moody noise that you didnât dare let out in fear of being teased by the boy for all of entirety but Steve seemed to sense your frustration anyway.
âCâmon, you got this.â Steve pressed a quick kiss to wherever he could reach, a warm smack of his lips against the skin under your ear, right by your jaw. âRelax, remember?â
So you did, letting out a small sigh before sinking back into him, legs widening and letting Steve drag your hands up and down your thighs, your skin erupting in goosebumps every time you felt a particularly rough graze of Steveâs short nails.
âWhat dâyou think about?â He asked, voice hushed, almost hoarse. It sounded dirty, like a secret you werenât supposed to tell anyone else about. âWhen you touch yourself? What dâyou think about?â
You pressed your lips together and shrugged, a gasp wrenching out from you when Steve moved your hands inwards, to the softer dough of your thighs, creeping higher and higher until you felt the cotton and lace edge of your underwear against your fingertips.
âI dunno,â your voice didnât sound like your own. âSomeone else, I guess. Someoneâs fingers, instead of my own. Beingâ being kissed and their, their mouth. Lips. Tongues.â
If Steveâs hips twitched up into your own, you were sure youâd imagined it. But he took a second before he answered, nodding so his nose pressed into your cheek, his hair fell over your own.
âSâgood,â he agreed, praising you like any teacher would. âWhat about their mouth, huh? Where dâyou want it?â
You squirmed, face on fire, teeth chewing something rotten at your poor bottom lip and when you didnât answer, Steve took your hand and placed it over your cunt, the cotton there suddenly more damp than it was before. You wanted to throw yourself out the window. Or worse, at Steve.
âHere?â The boy suggested. He wasnât really touching you, just his hand over your wrist and fingers, guiding, pressing slightly. âHas someone done that to you? Has someone put their mouth here?â
You shook your head, unable to stop the little whine that came out with it, disappointment colouring the sound. Steve tutted, cooing at you with sympathy and he let out a stuttered sigh when you took it upon yourself to press two fingers closer to your clit, seeking out some friction.
âThatâs a real shame, you know that?â Steveâs hands left yours, only to grasp your waist and pull you back into him a little firmer and youâd be lying if you didnât feel him, hard under his jeans, pressed into the bottom of your back.
It only made you press your fingers into yourself harder.
âIt is?â You were breathless, each word a huff of air, face screwed up and eyes shut tight as you tried to work out where you wanted your fingers the most.
âFuck, yeah itâs a shame, babe.â Steve whispered. âTold you, didnât I? Youâre the sweetest girl there is. And someoneâs not tasted you? Not told how sweet you really are?â Steve blew out a breath, as if exasperated. âThatâs just unfair.â
âSteve.â You weren't sure what you were whining your best friend's name for. For release? Permission? Guidance? All of the above, maybe.
But Steve seemed to know, âcause he nudged your hand closer to your cunt, coaxed you into running your fingers over your cotton covered folds. âYeah?â He asked and his voice was hoarse, a little wrecked sounding. âReady for more? Feelinâ good?â
You nodded, clumsy, breath coming out a little heavier than before.
Steve let one finger flirt with the edge of your underwear, along the lace trim where your cunt met your thigh and he snapped the elastic against you, feeling brave when you pressed back against him, like you couldnât be close enough.
âWant these off?â You heard him swallow hard, sounding quieter than before. âDonât have to, if you donât want to. We can do whateverââ
You lifted your hips in answer, one hand holding onto Steveâs thigh for support as the other dragged down your underwear and your cheeks cringed with heat as you caught a glimpse of how wet the cotton was. You balled them into your fist, shoving them to the bottom of Steveâs bed and they lay there like a flashing neon sign, all lilac and buttercream coloured flowers, lacy and mortifying.
Your skirt still covered you, hiding a lot from Steve. But the boy could look over your shoulder and see the way your chest heaved, nipples pebbled underneath your T-shirt, the one youâd stolen from him freshman year and made into a crop top. You were all legs, soft thighs, socked feet digging into his duvet, skirt flirting dangerously with all that bare skin underneath. He tried not to rut up into you, but he knew you had to feel him by now, his hard cock pressed against your spine, twitching at every breathy noise you let out.
âWhat next?â You asked and you sounded desperate, more pent up than youâd ever felt before and you wondered if it was really because you were taking your time with it, if all these slow touches really worked. You wondered if it was Steve. âShould I justâ?â
Your fingers dug into your thighs, sitting over your skin alone âcause Steve was gripping at his own knees, knuckles white on the denim. âFuck,â his voice cracked. âJust, uh, do what feels good, yeah?â
You made a sound of protest, frustration spilling up and out of your throat because this is where it went wrong, fingers fumbling, unsure where to touch to be able to coax you over the edge.
âHey, hey, sâalright,â Steve assured you, whispering again. âGive me your hand.â
You did, without hesitation, and together, with Steveâs fingers twisted between your own, he guided your touch underneath your skirt. You held your breath as you felt your own fingers - and the boyâs - slip between your folds, your legs parting automatically for him. You felt his breath hitch and fall over your cheek as you let out a tiny moan, urging him on, your fingers following his as he swept up and down your cunt, gathering up the slick there before pressing your middle finger to your clit.
âYeah?â Steve asked and he sounded awed when you cried out, a soft grunt that made him see fucking God. âThat good?â
You could barely speak. âYeah,â you whispered on a breath, head lolling back to rest against his shoulder, giving Steve an unobstructed view down your front, to the way your hands could be seen between your thighs, skirt rucked up around them.
âAttaâ girl, keep doinâ that, okay?â
You did as you were told, adding your pointer finger to the mix, rubbing the two digits over your clit in soft circles, panting every time you felt Steveâs fingers slip between your own. Steveâs free hand was on your waist, a vice-like grip that you werenât sure he was aware of, his palm on the strip of bare skin between your top and skirt. Every time you let out a shy noise, he squeezed, kneading at the dough there.
âJesus Christ,â he muttered, jaw slack as he watched you work at yourself, never letting go of his hand and fuck, fuck, you were so wet, velvet heat under his touch.
âDâyou use your fingers?â Steve asked you, lips against your cheek, both of you leaning into each other as if you were unable to help it. âInside? Do you put your fingers inside yourself?â
Twenty minutes ago, you wouldâve died if the boy had asked you such a thing, but now? Now? Now you whined at it, cunt clenching around nothing at the idea of it and you shook your head, temple rubbing against Steveâs cheek in a way that killed him with how fond it was.
âNot really,â you whispered to him, âcause even with his fingers slipping over your clit, you were still so shy. âDonât feel big enough, never- shit - never full enough.â
Steve swore his eyes rolled back into his skull, âcause all he could see was white, a blank flash over his vision that felt white hot. He rubbed soothing at your waist, let his fingers span over the width of your side, blunt nails sliding over your ribs. âPoor girl,â he sympathised and he smiled when you whined as he pulled your fingers away. âShh, gimme a minute, hey? Here, just, try this, huh?â
You didnât get to ask what he was meaning before the fingers that had been rubbing over your slick skin were in his mouth, two digits pressed to his tongue and Steve sucked. He licked over the pads, most definitely tasting you and you felt his chest rumble with a groan he tried to keep in. And then, as quick as it happened, it was over.
Steve brought your spit slick fingers back between your thighs, nudging the tips of them against your entrance. You keened, hips arching off the bed a little until Steve soothed you back down against him, mouthing over your jaw and cheek in a touch that definitely couldnât be misconstrued as a kiss.
You sighed as you slid them in, two fingers fucking into yourself as deep as you could manage, slipping in easily with how insanely turned on you were. You hooked them up, like all the articles in the magazines you hid from your parents told you to do, searching for that spot that would apparently make you see stars. But you fell short, fingers not long enough and your clit was aching with neglect.
âSteve,â you felt close to tears, the usual frustration bubbling at the surface of your chest, ready to pop and simmer over. Youâd have normally given up by now. âSteve, sânot working.â
âGotta be patient, babe,â Steve assured you, âgotta be nice to yourself, câmon, donât let your head take over.â
But Steve saw the tear that rolled down your cheek and he caught your chin, titling your face towards him as he frowned down at you. You looked wrecked, heartbroken and all pent up, lips red and slick from where youâd chewed at them, eyes all glassy.
He shouldnât have asked. But he was already in too deep. What does it matter now, right?
Right?
âWant me to help?â
He waited, one second, two, three and then you nodded, relief and disbelief filling his chest all at once. He swallowed back a broken moan and tapped his thumb at your chin, just catching your pouting bottom lip. âYou gotta tell me, please?â
âPlease, Steve, please. I want you to touch me.â
Heâd died. He was dead.
But then you were pulling at his wrist and guiding it back between your legs, your fingers slick from where theyâd been inside of yourself and Steve wasnât sure he was able to handle it. His middle finger nudged up against your entrance and Steve felt it flutter, his eyes closing as he took a deep breath and reminded himself that this was for you, not him.
He was rock fucking hard.
âReady?â He asked in a last bid for confirmation. You were laying fully against him now, thighs pressed to his, skirt barely covering you and you nodded so furiously that Steve didnât dare ask you to speak again. âOkay, Iâve got you, alright?â
His finger slid in so easily and you clenched around him, velvet heat that made his heart stutter and his cock kick up against your spine. You immediately felt the difference, the boyâs finger thicker and longer, already reaching parts of you that youâd never felt. You felt like you were going to burst.
âMore?â Steve asked and his voice eas shot, eyes closing at the feel of you, your small hand wrapped around his wrist to ensure he wouldnât stop and Steve wanted to tell you heâd never stop if you didnât want him to, that heâd do this every fucking day if youâd let him. âAnother?â
âAnother,â you agreed and god, you werenât holding back anymore, moans tumbling from your lips when Steve slid another finger in with his first, the feeling of your cunt tightening around him making you both cry out.
Your hips were shifting against him, listing yourself on and off of his fingers and he groaned, stuttered dirty, filthy words into your hair as he let you fuck yourself down onto his didgits. The friction was too much for him, his cock straining in the denim, weeping for release.
âTouch yourself, babe,â he managed to groan out, sighing at the sight of you doing what he told, hand flying to your thighs so you could rub messy, wet fingers over your clit. âThatâs it, good girl. Jesus, are you close? I can feel you - fucking hell - I can feel you getting tighter.â
You mumbled something unintelligible, a sob ripping through your chest and Steve decided it wasnât a good idea to ask, deciding that he needed to get you out of your own head so your body could take over.
âDo you like it when I talk to you?â He asked instead, a whisper against your ear, his breath warm on your neck, his fingers spanning upupup until they grazed the lace of your bra. You rutted against his hand harder, whining when he hit a deep spot inside of you, one that made your vision go blue-white. âYou do, donât you? My girl likes hearing dirty things, right? Like when I asked you if someone had went down on you? If youâd had someoneâs tongue here?â
Steve slid his fingers in and out of you a little faster to get his point across, sweating when you moaned his name. His name. Your own fingers were moving with intent now; tight concise circles that were making your toes curl.
âWould you let me do that? Huh?â Steve dared to asked, grinning when you almost ripped the sleeve off his shirt as you grabbed at his arm, lips falling open in a long moan. âShit, you look so damn pretty, you know that? I could do that for you though, if you wanted.â Steveâs eyes closed for just a second at the thought of it. âCould put my mouth on you, let you know if youâre really as sweet as you lookââ
You seized up, body stiffening as you let out a noise Steve would never forget, a breathy moan of his name that heâd think about every time he fisted his own cock. He kept pumping his fingers into you, eyes wide as your own hand faltered and you shook, head slumping back against his shoulder as you decided to hold onto him instead, hands reaching back to grab at his shoulders, his neck, his hair.
Your pussy was a vice around his fingers, filthy, wet sounds filling his bedroom and he was pretty damn sure but he had to ask, he had to knowâ
âYou cominâ, babe? Yeah?â You nodded, frantic, eyes slammed shut and nose scrunched up all cute and Steve couldnât help it, couldnât stop it. âFucking hell, oh shit, yeah, there you go, thatâs it, thatâs it, thatâs itââ
He wasnât even ashamed that he came in his jeans like a teenager, in fact, he was a little insane with it. White spots over his vision as his cock twitched and jumped, letting his hips grind against your ass as you whined, your cunt still fluttering around his fingers as he slowed down the way they pumped in and out of you. He heard you swear when he finally pulled them away, slick with your release, sliding them into his mouth as if hiding the evidence.
Your eyes finally met Steveâs when you turned and flopped onto the bed next to him, mattress shifting as you both panting, chests heaving. He turned to find you already staring, eyes wide and cheeks flushed the prettiest colour, almost matching his own.
âHoly fucking shit,â you managed on a gasp.
âTold you,â he managed to say, fighting to keep the smile of his lips.
âWhat?â You frowned at him, wondering what on earth he wanted to say to you after that. He still looked like your best friend, still sounded like him too. Maybe just a little more smug. âTold me what?â
Steve took the time to push his finger into his mouth once more, enjoying the way your face burned, lips falling open as you watched, unblinking. He let his tongue wrap around it, chasing what was left of your taste until he let it go with a dirty pop.
âSweetest girl in this fucking town,â he said.
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I will kiss you and hold you and pet you and call you a good girl if you write a toji os abt him having a one nightstand with someone and when heâs undressing them he unzips their dress WITH HIS TEETHHHHHHHHHHH AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAâŠâŠâŠ.. anyways!!! :3
am i a good girl now :(((
warnings: 18+ MDNI, fem!reader, soft dom!toji (maybe), alcohol consumption, squirting, fingering, face-sitting, vaginal sex, tit sucking, praise, slight degradation, reader passes out for a sec.
words: 2.4k
âCan I buy you a drink?â a handsome stranger asks you as you sit by your lonesome at the bar. You came here with your friend, who has since disappeared since locating her ex-boyfriend. And you suspect he wonât be an ex for much longer. The attention makes you giddy. His scar pulling as he smirks at you, a grin that grows wider when you nod. He pulls out his card and waits to flag down a bar tender. âIâm Toji, by the way.â
You introduce yourself and you curse yourself for how pathetic you must seem. Itâs embarrassing, really, feeling so accomplished that a man deemed you worthy enough to talk to and buy a drink for. Heâs like a model, possessing a wide build and tall figure. He could have any woman here if he wanted, youâre sure. And despite your inner monologue telling you to act coy, youâre sure youâre a bashful fool.
He orders you the same blue lagoon cocktail youâve already had three of, and himself a lemonade.
âYou donât drink?â you ask him.
âNah, it doesnât really affect me.â
You shrug, slurping the ice cold cocktail through a metal straw you brought from home. He smirks at that, noting that youâre the type to prepare this much for what heâs sure is meant to be a casual night out. And he asks you questions about yourself that youâre so willing to answer. You ask him questions about himself that he answers too, though the responses are surface level and simple. The mystery only adds to his allure.
He's funny, effortlessly. Everything he says seems to make you giggle. Youâre a clichĂ©, too, twirling your hair as you hang on his every word. Itâs a mix or attraction and intoxication. Is he really so interesting and funny or are you just wet and transfixed by his looks?
Your laughter dies out when you feel a tap on your shoulder. Itâs your friend, coming to say goodbye. She points at her ex and tells you sheâs leaving with him.
So much for girl code.
Though she does offer you to hop in the taxi with them so you can go home. But you donât want to leave Toji. You want to keep making a lovesick fool of yourself for him and maybe see where the night takes you. So she waves and you focus on the older looking man beside you. He licks his lips, his scar glistening under the everchanging technicolour lights flooding the club.
âWanna get going, gorgeous?â he asks, leaning over to speak into your ear. The rough gravel to his voice rushing straight to your pulsing cunt. You shouldnât, really, should you? Itâs not smart to go home with guys youâve never met. You donât know him or his intentions, he could be plying you with alcohol to get you stupid enough to kill you.
âMhmm.â you nod, dumbly, consequences be damned. If you die, youâll die by the hand of a man so beautiful youâd think an angel would cry at his presence. He takes your hand, leading you outside and hailing a cab. You at least have the sense to go to your place, knowing your cousin lives a few doors down and will surely here if things go wrong.
He kisses you deeply in the back of the cab, fingers digging into your skin as he squeezes your plush thigh. You moan, lewdly, when he tells you to stick out your tongue and he sucks it before licking it with his own. Tongues tangling as he continues to squeeze and knead your malleable flesh.
âHead on up, Iâll follow you.â he tells you as he pulls out his wallet. You nod, agreeing, whispering your apartment number before clambering out of the car. The chill of the 2am air bites at your skin, and you hurry to the security door. You pull the key from your purse and rush inside.
Toji takes his time paying the driver, grunting as he puts his wallet away and slides out of his side of the car. He slowly skulks to the entrance, smiling when he realises you remembered to leave the latch for him to get inside. He sees a crowd gathered by the elevator and opts to take the stairs instead.
He smirks, gleefully, when he sees you waiting by the front door.
âWatcha doinâ, gorgeous?â he wonders.
âWaiting for you.â you confess, looking down at your feet awkwardly as shame surges through your body.
He approaches, slowly. But before you know it youâre looking up at him and caged between his body and your front door. His hands rest against the frame as he studies your blown eyes and nervous face.
âSomethinâ tells me youâve never had a one night stand before,â he smiles, scar pulling deliciously once again. You can barely form a thought unable to break yourself from the hypnotising mark on his lip. âUnlock the door.â
âI already didâŠâ you gulp, nervously, still unable to tear your eyes away from his.
He likes your answer, picking you up so that your legs wrap around his waist and he lets himself into your home. Your lips lock and tongues clash as he controls the kiss, but your eagerness gets the better of you. Your hips rutting and soft moans pour from you as you portray yourself as a desperate slut for his benefit.
You pout, a little defeated, as he sets you back down. Though the disappoint dies an instantaneous death as he spins you around so your back is to him, pushing you into the wall by your entryway.
âHave you fucked a stranger before, princess?â he asks, brushing your hair from your shoulder and whispering devilishly into your ear. You shake your head, pathetic strings of âno!â spilling from your lips as his fingers explore under your dress and pinch your ass. You bite your lip as you feel his heavy fingers prod at your drippy panties. He huffs out a laugh when he realises how wet you are. âAllllll of this jusâ for me? You shouldnât have, darlinâ.â
âB-Been wet⊠since you asked if I wanted a drinkâŠâ you tell him, giggling a little and hiding your face against the wall.
âNo no noâŠâ he objects, tugging your hair softly to draw you out. âWanna see you, wanna see how you look when I ruin you.â you feel your body flush with heat at his words, turning your head to the side so he can see you again. You place your palms against the wall to brace yourself, not expecting him to pull your panties down your legs from under your dress.
He relishes in how you can barely keep your eyes open as he sinks two fingers into your sopping cunt and your panties drop to the ground. You bite your inner cheek, though it does little to keep you quiet as he curls his fingers against your spongy insides.
âOh fuck.â you gasp, ashamed that you might cum after a few pathetic pumps of his fingers. Though it doesnât feel right. You donât want it to stop, but you donât feel like you usually do when youâre close to cumming. âW-Wait.â you move your head and try to close your legs.
âSh.â he stops you, kicking your ankles to keep your legs open. He holds your head against the wall with his forearm, his breathing heavy in your ear. You shudder when he kisses against it, chuckling quietly when he feels your pussy begin to clench. âStop clenching, push. Itâll feel good, promise⊠push against me.â he commands.
You donât know whatâs heâs talking about. Push your body? No, he said stop clenching. Youâre trying to keep him inside, keep the feeling inside. But he repeats it. Push. And like heâs the master of your cunt, it listens.
âGood girl, babyâŠâ he praises you as he notes the pressure switch from your tender hole. You moan, and he coos. Faux sympathy as he fucks you dumb on his thick digits.
âToji! Nghâ!â you moan. Clear liquid jets from your pussy, dripping down your thighs and soaking your panties and the floor beneath. He doesnât let up, either, still battering his fingers against your g-spot.
âThere you go, princess. Good fuckinâ girl⊠so good for me darlinâ.â he moans, too, getting off on your pleasure and the striking realisation that youâve never squirted before. Heâs proud of himself, and heâs proud of you. âFuckinâ soaked your pretty panties, sweetheart. Dirty little girlâŠâ he teases.
You donât have the energy to respond, already spent from cumming in such an alien way. He kisses your shoulder as your legs continue to shake. Any logic from the thought of telling him to stop fingering you dissipates when you think that he can you make you cum like that again.
He feels his hardened cock over his jeans as he looks down at the puddle beneath you. Still pumping his fingers against your sweet spot until your eyes roll over white. He canât take it anymore. The unrelenting inner voice telling him to touch himself. He thinks he might die if he doesnât stroke his length, even for a minute.
âDonât move.â he orders.
You stay still, unsure of what heâs doing. Though you whimper as you feel his body press against yours. His head sinks to the top of your dress, and you just about cum again when you realise heâs biting down on the metal zipper, pulling it down with his teeth as exposing your bare back.
The black mini dress falls to the ground into the puddle of your lewdness and your drenched underwear.
âGood girl, stay there.â
He pulls off his t-shirt and tosses it aside down the hallway, only to be seen by the end of this dalliance. You hear him kick off his shoes and quickly throws away his socks. Eagerly, his pants follow, as do his underwear. Heâs just as naked as you, now. And you choke out a breath as you hear him drop to his knees, licking up the mess on your thighs and pussy. But he turns around, sitting on his ass with his back against the wall, without a care for the wetness beneath. He wraps his arms around your thighs, pulling your cunt towards his face.
âSit.â he instructs.
You do, without pause, moaning boisterously as he sucks at your clit and covers his face in your sweetness. One arm remains hooked around thigh while the other releases, hand in search of his aching length. He plays with himself, alternating between lazy strokes and passionate ones. The taste of your cunt makes him dizzy, unable to believe how much slick youâre producing as he relentlessly feasts on your flesh.
âF-fuck, Toji⊠finger me, please.â you beg. Heâs leaking like crazy, and thinks your request might have come at the perfect time. He lets himself go in favour of pleasuring you, the sound of your sticky cunt squelching with each press throughout your eerie apartment. Neither of you had even found time to turn on a light, the only thing illuminating the room is the filtering light sneaking in through the cracks of your front door. âGâna cum, a-again⊠holyâ s-shit.â you moan.
It spurs him on, maintaining all of his ministrations as he tries to coax your second orgasm out of you. He grunts, loudly, against your sodden folds as you squirt again. His face and hair doused with your release as he doesnât dare pull away. The sadistic desire to prolong your ecstasy is fuelling him to keep going. He feels like he might cum untouched as he feels your cum cover him.
Your legs give, his burly arms hook around your thighs again in a bid to keep you stable. But his hands wander, impatiently. Fingers grip into your waist as he pulls you away from the wall.
He helps you down, hovering you above his longing cock as he guides it to your spent hole.
âI donât have any condoms.â he tells you.
âDonât careââ you assure him, wriggling your hips eagerly. ââm on the pill.â
âGreedy girl,â he smirks, pushing you down onto his cock. You want to scream from the stretch but you manage to refrain. He sets a ruthless pace, forcing you to accommodate to it quickly. âBeen so sweet for me, darlinâ. Gonna be nice ân do all the work for ya, okay? Say thank you.â
âT-Thank you! Thank you.â you babble nonsensically.
His knees are bent as he fucks up into your abused hole, the velocity propelling you forward. Your fingers clutch onto his shoulders for dear life as he takes advantage of your body being in such close proximity to his mouth. He sucks your tits, eliciting a dreamy moan from you. The gorgeous sounds you make for him have his cock drooling inside of your unprotected walls.
It's so sorrowful, really, thinking about how pathetic you both are. He seemed so calm and collected and yet neither of you could even make it through the hallway of your apartment before you were both stripped bare. You thought youâd be fucking comfortably on your bed. But here you are, being fucking destroyed by his monstrously large cock on the wooden, soaking, hallway floor.
âGonna cum, baby.â he breathes against your spit soaked tits. The admission makes you cream, clenching around his thick, veiny cock as you brace yourself. âFuck, darlinâ, youâre gonna cum again. Can feel it, little cock slut. No oneâll fuck you like this again, yâknow.â
âAh- aaaahâ!â is all you can say as a lesser stream of liquid shoots from you once more. The internal bliss you feel makes you pass out momentarily. But you come around quick enough to feel your untainted insides become stained with his white, creamy warmth.
He groans, deeply, bouncing you up and down his length. He wishes there was a light on to see the creamy ring and the messy puddle youâve created together.
âYouâre fuckinâ amazing, baby.â he tells you, grasping the crown of your head with his palm to guide you into a sloppy kiss. He manages to stand up whilst keeping himself slotted comfortably inside of you. You giggle as you guide him to the nearest light switch, and both of you look down at the mess youâve made. Shame builds once again and you hide your face in the crook of his neck. âAwe, pretty girl made a dirty little mess fâme.â he teases you.
âStop! âm so embarrassed!â you tell him, the sentence muffled as you talk into his skin.
âSâokay, rest up.â he tells you, stroking your back soothingly. âGive me a tour, wanna see the next place we can make a mess of.â
© 2023 rinitxshi
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You were not supposed to hear that...yet
â Masterlist || â Taglist
Pairing: Alhaitham x (gn!) Reader
Summary: Alhaitham reveals a secret about the inner workings of his heart to his friends over a cup of wine and in between some banter. However, he did not expect it would go this wrong...
Tags: Fluff, crack, comfort, teasing, consumption of alcohol (by characters), the whole 4ggravate crew is here, friendly banter between friends, a small sprinkle of angst because reader is insecure (but it's unjustified)
A/N: Dust posting a new fic?! Not an April Fool's joke, despite the date! Finally felt inspired and well enough again to finish this fic that has been rotting in my WIPs forever. I hope you like it. And feel free to hit me up with asks and reblogs - it'd motivate me greatly after my long break đ„ș
The usual friend group of Cyno, Kaveh, Tighnari, and him - Alhaitham, was sitting at the Tavern. A gathering like it happened almost every weekend at this point.
The wine bottle on the table had been emptied around two or three times already when Kaveh ordered a new one yet again. At this point, Alhaitham had actually lost count of how many glasses of wine he'd already had, too. But one thing was for certain, he could feel the alcohol in his system and the warm blood that was rushing to his cheeks. All things considered though, despite feeling a little tipsy from the intoxication, he was still able to think clearly.
"Let me guess I'm the one who will have to end up covering your bill again?" He took sarcastic a jab at Kaveh.Â
The man in question just squinted his eyes and glared daggers at him before opening his mouth in an attempt to protest before it was quickly shot down by Tighnari's hand covering it.
Alhaitham leisurely leaned back in his chair smirking to himself, training his focus back onto the TCG cards in his hands and considering his next turn of action in the game he was playing against Cyno.
"What, am I just supposed to take it all the time and be quiet?!" Kaveh retorted, directed at Tighnari. The fox's ears were beginning to droop lower and lower as his expression became more and more deadpan.
"You all know as well as I do that if [Y/N] was here he wouldn't be acting like this. He would be on his best behavior and pay for the drinks without so much as complaining or being so cocky."
"By the way," Tighnari attempted to divert the attention away from Kaveh's ranting. "Where are they? Didn't you say they wanted to stop by the Tavern as well today, Alhaitham?"
Alhaitham played his round, throwing his card Cyno's way before looking up at Tighnari again.
"They mentioned it but I suppose something must've come up instead. I will ask tomorrow."
"Isn't it strange?" Kaveh addressed the others. "Whenever it involves [Y/N] he graciously offers himself up to talk to them and seek them out but whenever someone else is looking for him he is nowhere to be found."
"Maybe you just can't find me because I simply don't have anything to discuss with you." Alhaitham threw another jab at Kaveh with a smirk, which was promptly followed by a light punch against his bicep by the blonde architect.
"What? I constantly have to talk to you already when we're at ho-"
"SHHH! Don't say that out loud." Kaveh hissed, quickly covering Alhaitham's mouth in panic, since he didnât want him to spell out that they were currently living together. âIt's embarrassing enough that I currently have no other choice, no need to add to my misery.â
A witty quip was burning at the tip of Alhaitham's tongue after Kaveh's remark yet again, but he decided to swallow it. He didn't want to upset him too much, especially since he knew he'd had it rough lately. Even if it would've been said in jest, there was no need to add insult to injury. Instead, he simply resorted to taking another sip of his wine with a low chuckle and a glance in the blonde architectâs direction.
âAaaaanywayâŠâ, Tighnari cleared his throat, addressing Alhaitham once more. âWhat is it between [Y/N] and you anyway? You've become quite close haven't you?â
âThat's an understatement.â Kaveh groaned, dropping his head on his folded arms on the table dramatically. âHe can't stop talking about them. Day in and day out itâs [Y/N]-this, [Y/N]-that.â
âWe started working on a project about six months ago. Things are progressing quite smoothly if I do say so myself. Certainly makes things easier if you're working with someone who is both hardworking and intelligent in every way. Iâve been lucky to have been assigned to the project with them.â Alhaitham answered Tighnariâs question rationally while ignoring Kavehâs dramatic display.
âHere he goes again.â Kaveh huffed, directing his comment at Cyno and Tighnari. âWhenever he talks about them you hear nothing but praises.â
âIf someone is doing a great job, is it not logical to give them the credit they deserve?â Alhaitham added matter of factly.
âNo⊠I mean yes, but no. It's just not something I'd see you doing. Itâs so out of character.â Kaveh huffed. âAnd before you say anything, yes, maybe I just don't know that side of you because I don't give you any reason to praise me. No need to add that, thank you.â
Kaveh poked his tongue out at Alhaitham before taking a big sip from his wine.
âWhy, if you want to be praised you just need to say so, Kaveh. I think you're quite brilliant - your shortcomings aside.â He just had to add that last bit. Kaveh was just way too easy to tease. And what would this friend group be without the playful banter and jabs at each other?
Kaveh choked on the drink immediately and slammed his cup down onto the table with a loud clang. A fire burned behind his crimson eyes when he spoke next.
âThis is exactly what I meant, thanks for proving my point!â
Kaveh looked at Cyno and Tighnari gesturing in the direction of Alhaitham with a move that said âDo you see what I mean now?â.
Tighnari just facepalmed and shook his head.
âAnd what is your point exactly?â Cyno inquired, playing a card from his hand.
âDid you not listen to what he said?â Kaveh gasped.
âNot really,â Cyno admitted honestly, his eyes trained back on the cards in his hands.
âIt's the fact that he can praise others too, but never without also pointing out their faults in the same sentence. Did no one ever notice that? However, he never does that when it's [Y/N].â Kaveh explained.
âAnd?â Tighnari and Cyno replied in unison, looking puzzled as to where Kaveh wanted to go with this.
Kaveh put his head in his hand and groaned in frustration. âSometimes you all make me feel like I am surrounded by idiots.â
Now everyone raised their eyebrows at him.
âYou're all so clueless⊠anyway.â He sighed dramatically and accusingly pointed a finger at Alhaitham. âThis guy. This admittedly handsome but blockheaded, know-it-all, stoic, annoying-â
âGet to the point.â Alhaitham chided, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Fine, fine." Kaveh spread his arms like he was holding a presentation and Alhaitham his canvas.
âThis guy's right here, as alien as it may sound â has fallen in love.âÂ
âYou're in love?!â Cyno exclaimed his eyes widening. âWith who?!â
Tighnari rolled his eyes, knowing full well Cyno hadn't listed at all the past ten minutes because he had been so absorbed in his cards, and gently slapped the back of his head.
â[Y/N], of course!â The Forest Ranger exclaimed with a huff.
Cyno, now rubbing the back of his head just ushered a âWait really?â while Kaveh and Tighnari just curiously began eyeing Alhaitham in the hope of seeing any type of confirmation on his face. However, it stayed as unreadable as ever.
He nonchalantly took another sip of wine from his cup while leisurely looking back and forth between the cards on the table and the ones in his hand before playing another turn as if this conversation just now hadn't happened.
âSo!?â Kaveh asked, almost hysterically at this point. âDo you intend to enlighten us?â
Just how had he gotten into this situation now? Alhaitham suppressed a sigh before turning to Cyno: âYour turn. Two of your cards are down.â
âArchons!â Cyno cussed, immediately attempting to go back to study his cards but a fist slammed the table harshly, drawing all attention to it.
Tighnari flinched in shock and Cyno, too seemed to be pulled back to reality. Kavehâs hand was trembling slightly, visibly agitated.
âStop changing the subject, Alhaitham. The more you keep avoiding answering the question the more I think I am right in my assumptions.â
Alhaitham pinched the bridge of his nose beginning to truly feel a little stressed by Kavehâs insistance. The man was truly too nosy for his good.
âKaveh, just let it be if he doesnât-â Tighnari began before being cut off by Alhaitham.
âAnd what if you are right? What then, Kaveh?â
Everyone at the table fell silent and everyone was staring at him with a mix of disbelief and shock.
He hadn't planned to reveal any of this yet, especially since he feared they would try to become his wingman. Which, admittedly, may be a nice gesture on paper but with them it could only end in disaster. Plus he would prefer to deal with his feelings alone first and think them through thoroughly, before talking about them with anyone. Besides, it should be you, if anyone, who should hear about them first - alas he was too deep into this now to weasel his way out.
âWhat?!â Kavehâs mouth hung open in shock.
âSo it is true then?â Cyno inquired, putting the card in his hand down on the table, now suddenly fully hooked on the tea that was being spilled.
âHold on. Pause.â Kaveh sat upright, before quickly gazing over Alhaithamâs shoulder. âSo you-â
âFor Archonâs sake.â Alhaitham was beginning to get annoyed because he didn't know how much clearer he had to become for them to get it. âYes - Iâve been in love with them. For a while now-â
âAlhaitham-â Kaveh tried to interject.
âNo, don't interrupt me now, you pestered me about it for the past twenty minutes now you'll have to listen. I have never met anyone who is so hardworking, intelligent, and stunning in any way. Of course, I would be infatuated with a person like them. It would be hard not to fall for them.â
âUhm Alhaiââ Kaveh laughed awkwardly before being interrupted by Alhaithamâs ongoing monologue once more.
âAt first I wasn't sure about it but I am now. I am thinking about them first thing in the morning and last thing when I go to sleep - unless you're hammering away on some project again that keeps me awake, Kaveh.â
Kaveh waved for him to shut up already but Alhaitham didn't let that bother him. If he wanted the full story with all the details - he'd get it. He hoped that would get this discussion out of the way once and for all.
âAnd guess what? They even remembered how I liked my coffee just after I told them once and gifted me a book that I had been trying to find for weeks. So yes, Kaveh. I love [Y/N]. There, does that suffice now, or?â
Kaveh let out a squeal as soon as Alhaitham had stopped speaking but upon further inspection of his expression, it hadn't been one of excitement but rather pure terror and awkwardness.Â
âAlhaithamâŠâ Cyno and Tighnari said in unison and he only then noticed as well how their gaze was trained on a spot behind him.
âWhat?â Alhaitham inquired, curling a brow up in confusion before all three men pointed their fingers at something behind him.
When he turned his head around to look at what they were trying to show him, he felt his heart drop to his stomach for the first time in ages.
To his utter shock, you were standing right behind him. Or rather, you were frozen in place, your hand still half lifted in greeting as if you had just been about to greet the lot of them. Your mouth was slightly open in shock still and your pupils were but the size of pinpricks and transfixed on Alhaitham.
And judging by your reaction you must've heard every last word he had said.
âI-IâŠâ You started stammering, clearly confused about what you had just heard. âI uh-, I'll head back home.â
You abruptly turned around on your heel and marched straight out the Tavern door you had just come through as if someone was chasing you.
Alhaitham hadn't moved a muscle ever since he had spotted you standing behind him and he looked like he was frozen in place. Everyone at the table had fallen so silent, one would've been able to hear a needle drop.
Alhaitham's eyes were still fixed on the door you had left through. The little bell that chimed every time the Tavern door hit it on the way in or out was still dangling lightly from the impact. But the movement was dying down slowly but surely - just like Alhaitham, who felt like someone had dropped a boulder on his chest.
You were not supposed to hear that, yet.
âYou uhâŠ, Alhaitham you should probably follow them.â Tighnari was the first to speak again. He awkwardly scratched behind his ears. Cyno hummed in agreement while Kaveh just sat there with his mouth wide open.
Alhaitham exhaled in frustration, unable to properly place his emotions. But they were somewhere between unsettled, nervous, and discomforted.
When he got up it felt like someone had tied heavy iron blocks to his ankles that were weighing him down.
âYeah, I guess I do,â Alhaitham muttered before marching off.
When you stormed outside the Tavern the cool evening breeze gnawed at your skin and made goosebumps erupt all over. Although you weren't quite sure if it was the temperature or your emotional turmoil at play here.
There was no way Alhaitham had just said that and actually meant it. He wouldn't be the type of man to flat-out admit that he had feelings for anyone. Or would he? He had been talking to his closest friends after all.
You were questioning your sense of reality and thought you must've fabricated it all in your mind. Or maybe you misheard what he said and he was talking about something else entirely.
But no, he said your name, and the others looked panicked when you entered the tavern and approached the table.
As you rushed through the streets of Sumeru City the chilly wind kept whipping in your face. Not even you knew where you were going at this point. You simply went where your feet were carrying you.
But eventually, you realized you had run up the Akademiya and to the blue-green mosaic pavilion that glistened in the last rays of sunlight. The spot at which you and Alhaitham often spent your lunch break together.Â
You sunk down on the bench exhaustedly and stared holes in the ground.
No way.
There was just no way.
Alhaitham. The man you had fallen for so hard that he had begun to occupy every waking thought you had. That man was supposed to have feelings for you and had just flat-out admitted it?
No, this simply had to be a dream. A bad joke. Or maybe even a bet between the group that they orchestrated to prank you.
You could feel your heart thumping in your head and it felt like your head was swimming. It was as if you had downed an entire bottle of wine by yourself, but you were as sober as one could be.
Yes, that had to be it. It was a bet between the boys over one too many cups of wine and they had all acted their parts out flawlessly.
You got up again walking to the railing, overlooking Sumeru city that shone majestically in the last remaining rays of sunshine that the day had to offer. Another gush of wind blew your way, making tears well up in your eyes. Although it may have also been your emotions who were to blame for that instead.
You inhaled deeply. Once. Twice. But nothing seemed to help calming the rapidly beating heart in your chest.
In your daze, you completely missed how someone had quietly come up to the pavilion as well.
Alhaitham leaned against the railing himself, looking over the city in silence, too. He was clearly ringing for words. Although you assumed the wrong reason for his struggle.
âLook,â you began, trying your hardest to suppress the tremble in your voice. âIf you came here to apologize - please, spare me your words.â
He looked at you opening his mouth before closing it again right after with a silent nod. His cheeks were dusted in a light pink shade - you assumed it was caused by the alcohol he had downed at the tavern with the others.
âI hope that we can go back to normal tomorrow and just finish our project. Iâd prefer if we kept our distance after that. I think itâs for the bestâ The words left your mouth at normal speed, but it felt like you had to force every single one out. They felt tenacious, like old chewing gum that you tried to pull out from in between your teeth.
âI understand.â He stated calmly before retraining his gaze back into the distance.Â
You both kept standing next to each other in silence for a long while before you decided to confront him about it directly. You eventually decided it was for the best if you got things off your chest now so that you could get over him quickly. Ripping it off like a band-aid would hopefully give you the relief you so desperately craved right now.
âYou know,â you began. âI donât know who came up with the idea and I also donât care, no need to tell me. But you guys should never do this to anyone again because you never know how much it might end up hurting someone elseâs feelings.â
Alhaitham stood upright and turned to face you directly. He crossed his arms over his chest and slightly cocked his head like he always did when he was thinking about something you said.
After a momentary pause, he asked: âWhat do you mean?â
âI mean that you shouldnât toy with someoneâs feelings as a prank. Itâs never actually funny for anyone but the people who orchestrate such a prank. No matter if the other person reciprocates the feelings or whether they believe the statement, they always end up being the one who is being ridiculed.â You explained as rationally as possible, which was a stark contrast to the tempest that was raging both inside of your heart and mind.
âEspecially when the person hoped to hear those exact words for the longest time, tooâŠâ You added. It wasn't more than an utterance under your breath - so quietly it was barely audible. But Alhaitham heard nonetheless.
âBut I meant everything I said.â He stated matter of factly, seemingly catching on to the fact that you mustâve assumed the wrong things about the whole situation.
âWhat?! Alhaitham, please, there is no need to add insult to injury. You had your fun nowââ
âNo.â He gently took your hands in his, exhaling heavily. âArchons, you werenât supposed to find out like this.â
He rarely swore which made the impact of his words even stronger.
âI wanted to tell you face to face and was waiting for the right moment to do so. But, just know that every word you heard and everything I said back at the tavern was the truth. No bet or scheme made me say it. Not that anyone would be able to make me say these things in the first place.â He sighed once more, giving your hands an emphasizing squeeze. âI meant it.â
âYou did?â
âEvery word.â
You felt the blood rush to your face and immediately lowered your gaze in an attempt to hide your flusteredness.
âHad I known this would happen, I wouldâve told you everything right from the start. I donât like how this went now butââ, he moved his hands up to cup your face. His beautiful turquoise eyes trained on no one but you.Â
âIâm absolutely certain I like you. You drive me crazy. And I love and hate how much you occupy every waking thought of mine because I canât focus on anything when youâre around. And when youâre not, youâre still always on my mind. So please â be mine.â
Do not repost, copy, translate or edit - © dustofthedailylife || reblogs, comments, and asks about Genshin or my fics are always greatly appreciated and motivate me! Maple dividers are mine - do not copy.
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