Tumgik
#imagine laughing at your own writing?!
Note
Hello! Please can you tell me your favourite own fics that are fluffy and funny I love your sense of humor💛
Thank you so much you dote!!! Loving my sense of humour is such a fantastic thing to say ☺️ these are the ones that come to mind that are both fluffy and (supposedly) funny…
The Last Laugh
“This is so fucking embarrassing!” hissed James, kicking the stone wall with his toes. “I’m going to die! Literally die! Hide me!”
Sirius snorted. James did look ridiculously stupid, with his huge feathery legs and wings and his neck in particular.
Aka McGonagall transfigures James into a turkey and Lily Evans arrives to buy raffle tickets off him (you had to be there…!)
🥰🥰🥰🥰
The New Boyfriend
Apparently, Dr Lupin has a new boyfriend. Dr Black is inexplicably appalled…
☺️☺️☺️☺️
That Raging & Wholly Unsuccessful Thing
Prongs is trying to chat up Evans, attempting to be all suave and cool. His friends can’t help laughing at him…
🥰🥰🥰🥰
Nah, He Didn’t
Evans tries confiding in the cute black dog about her crush on James Potter and the dog seems to find it all excruciatingly painful??
☺️☺️☺️☺️
Have Yourself a Merry Little Wolfnoote
James Potter and his 5 yr old son try to set up Wolfstar - Harry steals the show☺️
🥰🥰🥰🥰
Tight Quidditch Uniforms @ Other Distressing Things
James Potter thinks Sirius Black and Lily Evans are dating. He’s devastated. He’s also incredibly wrong. The idiot. (Unlike his suave and intelligent and definitely better looking best friend who is the best wingman and deserves a Medal, according to himself)
31 notes · View notes
wereshrew-admirer · 1 year
Text
remembering that the last time chine and duvall see each other in the finale is at the tunnel of love where chine asks duvall to bring them a sign that says 'abandon all (for love) hope ye enter here' and then the last dice roll that determines the end of their epilogue together is 69...
and there are people who don't think it makes sense to pair them up, smh
15 notes · View notes
luxraydyne · 1 year
Text
wait, dude, wait. aini was supposed to be cosmic horror??
girl, seriously? i dunnooooo i’m not really feeling it fellas
#i'm some i've read some cosmic horror(/weird fic prob more fitting here) in my time and i do not get those vibes from it at aaaaall#i can believe that cosmic horror is what aini *thought* it was doing. but no.#game doesn't commit nearly enough and its so like. self conscious in terms of 'we gotta make this appeal to more people' to commit#and like in this economy it's just not weird enough tbh#simulation theory as plot point in and of itself does not a cosmic horror/weird fiction make. or like. an interesting one#and when the writing ultimately chickens out with the 'but its okay because even if it's a simulation we all matter and should be content'#which it will#i should be feeling existentially uneasy and instead i'm like 'my god i totally know exactly where this is going'#and it's so needless! you have a scifi concept ripe with fic psychological weird horror potential that went untapped!#why let that just shrivel up in the corner cause sim theory's more big brain?? make a different game then!#i simply do not care about the ''frayer'' or whomstever the player avatar is called today. cause the game don't care either lol#its heart somehow aint in it. which is weird considering how much other good shit was tossed in favour of the new Thing#its pure mechanics. which could work if the game goes all in on mechanical narrative. but the mechanics dont even work#it's not even interested in the interesting meaty bit of the concept it's so completely linear it misses its own point entirely#the mechanics arent integrated with the thematics at all its so clunky which is a shame cause clearly a lot of nitpicking went in#from like the dialogue writers#proofing this thing was a nightmare i would imagine#and like. you can't have a pandemic rocket and stormtrooper horde as the climax of your story and expect me to seriously inspect it#as a proper serious work of cosmic horror i'm too busy rolling my eyes and laughing at it#not saying that something can't have both weird horror and comedy elements to it reasonably speaking#but the horror elements aren't beefy and deeply thought out enough nor is the comedy integrated in such a way to hit that sweet spot#uuuugh theres something in here somewhere but not like. as one game. take one or two elements split them off and develop them#like properly. fully with care and gusto and focus on what the writing actually feels. then you could have a couple of good games#and maybe even a decent cosmic horror product#but this Aint It. weird fiction/cosmic horror is more than a base concept or aesthetic flairs you gotta gets the guts underneath#it will not tag this properly but i will make the walls of tag attached#of increasing and therefore increasingly absurd length. for the bit
3 notes · View notes
chososlilprincess · 6 months
Text
last part of virgin!Choso<3 (im gonna write more for him tho, just in other scenarios!!) other parts here: part 1 part 2 part 4
.⋅ ۵♡۵ ⋅.
Virgin Choso who stands on his small balcony, looking over the city, a grey cloud creeping out between his lips.
Choso had taken up smoking. He’d asked Leiri about it when he’d seen her doing it, and she’d told him it helped her to relax. he’d bought a pack right after that. The first couple of times he’d coughed the smoke out. But now he does it smoothly, inhaling and exhaling the smoke with no problem. It makes him feel at ease even just for a moment, and lord knows he needs it right now. Humans are fucking weird he thinks, they’d jepordize their health for a little break from their troubles. Guess that doesnt sound so ridiculous now that he thinks about it. Either way hes a human now too, or a half one atleast.
he squeezes the cigarette into an ashtray and looks at the time when he hears the door bell ringing. Its late and you’re here.
he hears you running up the stairs, and when you get to the top you run to him, giving him a soft hug. His heart keens.
“hi Choso!” you smile and let go of him, he immediately misses the feel of you, “hey,” he mumbles.
“why do you smell like cigerattes?” you huff and your nose crickles. cute.
he raises his shoulders.
“i cant believe it…who taught u to do that huh?” you make a disappointed face and fold your arms, tapping your foot on the floor. And he knows youre just joking, you and Yuji have been using enough sarcasm around him for him to have a pretty good understanding of it.
“Leiri,” he shrugs.
“of course…that hag,” you grin. And you look so fucking adorable, in your little outfit, and the way you look when you smile makes him weak. He has your bag ready on the couch, he had washed your panties before putting everything back into it. But he can’t think about that now, or he’ll turn bright red.
he sighs “i made dinner,” he says, “if you’re hungry,” you stop infront of him and you almost look like youre gonna cry from happiness. “im starving,” you say quickly, “what did you make?”
He’d made rice bowls for you. your favourite. And you eat like a girl who’d gotten her first meal in months. Happily humming while eating your food.
Rather than focusing on eating his own bowl, he thinks about eating every meal of the day with you, sitting across from him.
when you’re done you put your plate in the sink and you yawn, you look adorable when you yawn, you look adorable when you do anything.
you turn around, “Choso?”
his heart skips a beat. he nods.
“it’s really late and um…dark outside and i don’t really want to walk home alone,” you look away, are you….blushing?
“is it okay if i stay here for the night?”
And hes heard the stories. About what happens to pretty girls when they’re alone at night and they don’t see the stranger walking behind them. And his fist clenches at the thought of someone being mean to you. He’s stronger than any human. he’d crush their fucking skull.
“you can stay,” he says quickly, a little too eagerly he realises. And you smile, “give me your plate,” you say, looking greatful that he let you stay, unknowing of the fact that he’d do just about anything if it meant your safety, or your happiness.
You start washing the dishes in his tiny kitchen, and when Choso tries insisting that he wants to help, you splash a bit of water on him. And you laugh so sweetly, when he jumps a little, trying not to get hit.
When youre done washing up, You both stand in silence for a while. For some reason its not as akward as it sounds.
“i will sleep on the couch,” he says,
“no Choso…id feel bad, you sleep in your bed,” you mumble.
You both argue like that for a while, and youre not letting up. stubborn little human.
you both get quiet for a moment.
“how big is your bed?”
“Queen size,”
“so why dont we just…sleep in it together?”
youre blushing slightly again. it must be his imagination.
And then he thinks about it. Friends sleep in the same bed sometimes right? you dont mean anything by it, he thinks, its just you being polite.
“i guess…we could do that yes,” he agrees.
you smile and nod, “okay,”
Choso excuses himself to go to the bathroom then, telling you to go ahead and get ready for bed.
He looks at himself in the mirror. He takes out his buns, his hair falling down to his shoulders. His eyes are dark and sunken. He looks dead he thinks. He looks down, “behave,” he says quietly, mostly to his heart, but also his dick.
he buries his head in his hands And He realizes he cant, he realizes the second he’s gonna look at you in his bed, he won’t be able to stop himself. to stop himself from confessing everything he feels, everything he’s done. that he thinks about you all the time, that you drive him insane, that he stole your pretty panties and came in his hand from the smell of your wet cunt.
When he rounds the corner of his bedroom, you’re sitting patiently on the edge of his bed, waiting for him.
“i am going to sleep on the couch, i don’t think this is a good idea,” he says it quickly, before he changes his mind, before its too late to go back.
you open your mouth to speak, hesitating a little.
“is it because of what yuji told me?”
his brain goes quiet. “what?”
“that you…that you like me?”
fuck. its over. he sighs angrily. that little fucki-
you stand and walk to him.
and when you put your hand on his chest, for a moment he forgets why hes mad, he forgets who he is and what year hes in. all he sees is you. And how close you are all of a sudden. and how youre leaning in, standing on your tippy toes, pressing your soft lips to his, in a short gentle kiss. His world stops for a moment.
And when he regains his senses, his instincts take over and he kisses you back ferociously, it’s sloppy and uncoordinated, but neither of you seem to care.
You walk backwards onto his bed, and you push him down so he’s sitting on the edge. He looks at you like a puppy dog, and his cheeks are flushed red.
When you sit down in his lap his dick twitches in his pants.
“i- i didnt think you…,” he stutters. he doesn’t really believe what’s happening.
“well i do,” you say, while cupping his face in your hands. “a lot,”
“can i…” he needs it he needs it he needs it, “can i eat your pussy?” he mumbles it quietly.
your eyes widen. fuck, he shouldn’t have said that, it was way too fast, you were just kissing.
“oh…uh okay,”
fuck. yes.
he lifts you up from his lap, and you skriek a little from surprise. He puts you down in a chair in the corner of his bedroom.
he gets on his knees infront of you and speaks quietly,
“i…im sorry i,” he sniffles a little, he’s so overwhelmed. And you’re letting him taste you.
you lean down and give him a kiss, biting your lip slightly.
“its okay…we can talk later, if you need it i’ll give it to you okay?”
And fuck he almost cries, and he buries his face in your lap. You shush him a little, caressing his hair. Hes hugging your legs.
He lifts his head, and you start unbuttoning your pants. Slowly sliding them down your hips as they fall to the floor. You spread your legs and he whimpers. Your panties are pink this time, and theres a big wet spot on them. And he doesn’t spare a second, he dives his head into your cunt, rubbing his face in it and licking at the wet spot desperately. you moan his name softly, and he cant help but grind his hard cock against the leg of the chair. Hes pathetic but he doesnt care, he wants you to feel good, he wants to make you cum on his face. He groans into your weeping pussy as he thinks about you cumming for him.
He pulls away a little, silently begging you to remove your panties. He wants to see your pussy so bad. His pussy.
You slide down your panties to reveal your soaked cunt. Choso almost growls. He looks up at you, asking for permission to keep going. you nod, your eyes half lidded. Spoiled little princess, he thinks, and thats exactly how hes going to treat you from now on.
he leans in again, kissing your pussy and it makes a wet sound. He licks his lips and groans deeply at your taste. He starts lapping at your cunt like a dehydrated puppy. He’s making out with your pussy now, swiping his tongue all over. You can tell he’s inexperienced, but it doesn’t matter, he’s doing such a good job.
you feel so good, his tongue is too much, its all too much. You love him so much. And you cum unexpectedly, crying out his name, begging him to keep going and he whines. You thrash around and Choso keeps you steady, his strong hands grasping your hips.
After youre done he keeps licking up your cum, making sure youre cleaned.
“Choso…stop, too much,” you say softly.
He pulls away.
His face is covered in your juices, dripping all the way down his neck. And he looks so happy. He stands up, like its on instinct. He needs to hold you.
He grabs you into his arms and plop down onto the bed, with you on his chest. He squeezes you into him, kissing your hair while you slide your panties on again.
“mine,” he says softly. youre his now.
You look up at him, searching his eyes, “Choso i wanna um…you know,” you gesture to his crotch. you want to make him feel good too.
but he looks away shyly. its embarrassing and pathetic, “i um..,” he sits up with you in his lap.
He doesnt feel hard under you anymore. And then it clicks.
“oh my god did you…”
he blushes furiously and nods, “its embarrassing,” he had cum in his pants the second he put his face in your bare pussy.
“no! no…it’s really…hot,” you reason and he looks less embarrassed. He looks into your eyes then, looks at your pretty little face and he already knows he wants you to be his forever.
“do you want to be my girlfriend?” he asks nervously.
you giggle and nod eagerly, jumping on him, wrapping your arms around him and nuzzling into his neck.
hes the luckiest man in the world he thinks. And you both fall asleep, you laying on his chest.
.⋅ ۵♡۵ ⋅.
guys they didn’t actually fuck and i’m SORRY
now….part 4?? hey!!! HEY OKAY IM SORRY!! comment if yall want more ill do a lil short one where buddy ACTUALLY looses his virginity.
taglist:
@iqzo @multy-fandom-lover
7K notes · View notes
etfrin · 6 months
Text
⤷❝ The Quiet Gift | Coriolanus Snow❞ˎˊ-
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
⇢☾Warning: NSFW | squirting, Snow is his own warning, mentions of killing, possessiveness, fingering (f. receiving), bathroom sex, mirror sex, semi-public sex (there was a gala), pinv sex, creampie, unprotected sex (wrap it dumbfucks), dumbfication if you squint, dom sub undertones, degradation, ownership kink, breath play with a twist | lmk if I forgot anything!
⇢☾Pairing: young president Coriolanus Snow x fem! Reader
⇢☾Summary: continuation of the arranged marriage au, this is your one year anniversary with him with a gala held in place to celebrate, you get insecure because of some bitches and Coryo fucks you in the bathroom with sprinkles of your daily life with him.
⇢☾Request: this is a request (idk if i’m writing it in the write place im new to tumblr i usually use wattpad) young coriolanus snow bathroom mirror sex like him making u watch ur self come undone in the mirror
⇢☾A/N: enjoy everyone! And to one who requested, hope you like this! :) this might be my last post of this theme btw, i am getting sick of the blue :/
arranged marriage au: the study, mine to love
< masterlist > < bc: @cafekitsune > < tag list >
Tumblr media Tumblr media
A year had passed of your marriage, a bond between two souls which wasn't much of a lie as before. Things with Coryo were better than you could ever expect. You thought he would isolate himself from you after your confession but so much had changed. He had gotten softer but more possessive. His edges are sharp yet he makes sure it's a shield for you, not something that would make you bleed.
Among his actions include changing your entire wardrobe (not without your opinion first), a library that connects to his office (his office is something you have access to at all times now), his room was now yours both (your favorite change), and last but not least a poison taster was included so that no attempts of assassination at the First Lady could be taken.
At first, you thought it to be extra, but knowing that it would put his paranoid mind at peace you allow it without much to say. He picked out your outfit every day, and sometimes you did the same for Coriolanus. He would frown as you decide what to wear or not for him for the day, knowing that some of the pieces don't match his style but when he sees your smile as you pick out the clothes. He smooths his frown and takes whatever horrible fashion statement you created for him and wears it with pride.
If anyone dared to speak up about it, he proudly said that his wife picked it out and everyone knew better than to speak a single ill word of the unspoken Queen of Panem.
Today was one of those days when you decided to pick his outfit. Today was something special after all. One year had passed since you had become Mrs. Snow, and a gala was to be held tonight to celebrate the union.
So yes, you were going to pick his outfit. You had even woken up early because of it. You giggled as you opened your eyes, your arm around Coryo whose hair looked impossibly messy, sticking out everywhere. It made him look years younger than he was. You chuckled at the sight, your heart clenching with the love you have for this man. You lean forward to press a kiss to his forehead and then his cheek. You whispered, not expecting him to wake up until his alarm rang, “Good morning, Coryo”
You quietly slipped away from the bed and tiptoeed to the closet. The closet you both shared now. One side carrying every single piece of your clothing and the other side his. You wanted to pick out something different for your husband once, sick of seeing him in his white shirts and black vest. That's how you picked out a black suit with a white vest and a red silk shirt. You could imagine unbuttoning this off of him tonight and the thought made your body heat up and a giggle escaped your lips.
“What are you laughing about, doll?” A voice, his deep sleepy voice startling you. “Nothing!” You quickly said, turning to look at Snow, your breath hitching as his eyes were half closed and his hair turned into a mess of curls. Sometimes you wonder if this was all a fever dream and if you truly have the privilege of seeing him like this. You placed the clothes into a corner and went to him.
You pulled him down, your hand on his nape and another on his cheek as you guided him to your lips. Morning breath be damned. His actions were reflexive with how his arms pulled you in closer as his lips pressed into yours. He smiles against your lips and soon both of your tongues tangle in an uncoordinated sleepy manner and you whimper into his mouth.
This was real. This was your reality and you would do everything to keep it as it is. You pulled back and he whispered, “What was that for, doll?”
“Just needed to make sure this was real,” you answered him. Your words make him crack a real smile, something even you saw rarely and it would only be possible in moments like this. Moments when you have shocked the man with your actions and words and made him fall harder for you.
“Well it is,” he grins. Before his expression clears up he focuses on the clothes you have set aside. “Outfit for today?” He asked. You nod and smile at him, gesturing at the clothes. “You would look handsome in them,” you said. “Don't I always look handsome?” He smirks, you laugh, “I am not falling for that trap, dear husband. I'll be in the shower, choose something for me.” You press a kiss on his cheek before leaving the closet.
After showering and wearing the red dress he had decided, both of you go on for your respective duties. The gala would start early in the day and there were a few hours left before it formally started as guests were already coming in.
The mansion was set up beautifully, no words could have possibly explained the amount of work and dedication to make this the event of the year, valued higher than the Hunger Games itself. In another universe, it may not have been possible, in this one however you somehow managed to crack into his heart and made yourself a higher priority.
You were doing finishing touches of your makeup when Corio came in, his hair slicked back but his body tense, his eyes unable to hide the shakiness in them. You don't say anything, letting the man have his moment of vulnerability. You knew you would mess him up even more if you pointed it out, so you continued your task.
You didn't pay him any attention despite the itch to turn to him. You force yourself to stare straight into the mirror, applying your lipstick for the night. That was until he came behind you, his arms around your waist and pulled you against his chest, his head propped on your shoulder as you felt him take deep breaths.
You don't ask if anything is wrong, accepting the rare form of intimacy he initiated. Usually, you're the ones for the hugs, the genuine ones anyway. You knew despite everything you were like a math equation to Snow. His mind figured out the formulas to keep you to him forever, you doubted if he saw anyone as his equal but you were perhaps the closest thing to it.
You had accepted it long before, but moments like this when Coriolanus allowed himself to be a human meant everything to you. You fell for every version of him, the one that is an untouchable deity who could kill you without guilt, and the human he was, obsession filling in veins making you the sole objective of his mind as he already achieved Panem.
You close your eyes, taking deep breaths with him. In the end, you were human too and you broke. “What's wrong?” You asked, as softly as possible yet breaking the bubble that had formed.
He smirks through the mirror, his eyes meeting yours, a sense of superiority in the blue hues. “Nothing’s wrong, my doll,” he whispered to you, pressing a ghost-like kiss to your bare shoulder. His arms cage you tighter, making a small gasp on your lips. “Okay,” you smile at him.
“Ready to start the gala then?” You asked, “Snows are born ready,” he replied, his tone smug.
One of his arms was kept wrapped around his waist while the other opened a drawer to take out a small box. “For you,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your neck. You opened the box, and in it was a gold necklace with the initial ‘S’. You blush, and leave it to Corio to give you a necklace with his initials for an anniversary gift. “It’s beautiful,” you whispered, your head turning back and you gave him the brightest smile. “Help me wear it?” You mumbled as you handed him the box.
And so he did, and now a necklace was on your neck, the letter ‘S’ sitting perfectly on your skin. It scratched an innate itch for Snow to see you wear this. A part of him had expected you to fight, and be disgusted by this action, his mind thinking of several ways to make (force) you to wear the necklace. But as always you surprised him with your acceptance, as if you knew that wearing this would help him with his possessiveness. You were truly the right woman for him.
With his arm around your waist, you walk into the celebration. Countless people, the top elites of the Capitol were attending the gala. Everything had to be perfect.
Alas, fate is nothing but fickle.
The rumors didn't catch your ears at first before slowly the whispers caught up to you. Too busy with your life in the mansion and with Coriolanus, you rarely were social. You never had many friends from the capitols' elites. And those who knew were merely allies for the future. So the gossip never reached your ears.
Gossip you knew better to believe. Words change when they travel mouth to mouth. It can be easily manipulated too, your husband was a living proof of that. The snake tongue of all of Panem. But when the words seemed to get louder and louder, you couldn't help but feel maybe it's tinged with truth.
Snow was busy talking to diplomats while you were politely having a conversation with the ladies. That's when the questions began about some things they had heard about Snow. Each worse than the other but nothing you didn't already know. You make sure to change their perspective whenever something new comes up. Coriolanus was still new at this position, anything could snatch the power away if either of you weren't careful.
Feeling like you have finished the job, you begin to move away, only to stop when you hear, “...even wearing a pendant with his initial, she's nothing more than a whore who was pushed up to play the role of the First Lady. A woman of her standing would never deserve such a title.”
It was true, when Snow asked you to marry you, it was sudden and he gained nothing from it. Nothing, no money, power, and just a few connections you had but he had already impressed them all beforehand so there was no need for you. Your history in the academy wasn't all that great either, you were never the best but wholly average. A man like Snow deserved the best.
Insecurity claws at your heart and even so with recent events you knew their words were wrong. Tears burned your eyes. Your hand goes to the necklace you had on, your fingers twirling the pendant. Meanwhile, despite Coriolanus' focus being mainly on talking sweet to the guests and gathering sponsors, his eyes were on you, your every moment, and each person you spoke to. He notices you walking away from the gala and into the hallways. He followed you.
You were in one of the many bathrooms the manor had to offer. You stared at the mirror, the necklace you were wearing, and your hands traveled to the back ready to take it off. That's when Coriolanus enters the bathroom, his footsteps stopping midtrack as you freeze too.
“Coryo,” you begin to speak, your hand at your side now. “I was just-” “Why were you going to take it off?” He interrupted you, his face twisted in a glare you never thought would be directed at you. You shrugged, trying to play casual, “It doesn't feel appropriate.” “Why?” He questioned his tone icy calm, spreading chills down your spine. “Because-” because you didn't feel worthy of it. “Because you're ashamed of me,” he scoffs, walking closer to you. His eyes now fully glaring at you.
You frown, “What? Coryo, no-” He tilts your chin up, as he leans in, his expression twisted in fury, “Then what? There's no other appropriate reason for you to take it off then.” In truth, something was getting lost in translation, the women you were talking to earlier were going to be accused of treason in a few days. The cause? The rumors (some truth mixed in as well) they had spread about Snow. They were invited out of courtesy and after this, they had signed their death certificate.
“It's nothing like-” “Then what?” He hissed, “Did you finally come to your senses? Did they tell you how much of a horrible monster I am? And a horrible president?” You knew some sort of major miscommunication had happened but you had no idea how to deal with it. Not when Snow pressed a harsh, hard kiss to your lips, teeth clashing and his tongue seemingly fighting with yours for dominance that you easily gave over.
“You can't escape me, doll. No matter how horrible you realize I am. Think about running away and it's your dead body that will be leaving this mansion.” he whispered against your lips, his hands on your waist, your body flushed against his as your back hit the counter.
You chuckled at his words, knowing that would never be your end. His eyebrows furrow in confusion and it makes you giggle even further. “Dove, I am not joking,” he said, looking straight in your eyes. “I know,” you smile at him, “You…” you shake your head, smiling, you were surely crazier than him. You leaned up and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “Those women said something… mean and it made me realize I may not be worthy of this necklace…” you begin to explain, hoping the explanation would calm him down.
You thought wrong. “You don't think I can decide who deserves to be my property, pet. Whom I let to be my queen,” he said, his tone deeper than before. He whispered, “I decided it's you. It's been a year since that decision and I haven't regretted it once.”
He manovaroued you so you were facing the mirror. He was right behind you, his eyes hard. “The woman you're looking at right now is mine. My pet. My wife. How dare you try to take off a mark of my ownership, doll?” You opened your mouth to apologize, but a moan escaped instead as he bit into your shoulder. He begins to press you against the counter, your body bending over as he continues to press wet kisses on your nape.
“You need a reminder about whom you belong to,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your skin making you shiver, heat spreading to your body as his hands unzipped your dress from behind, letting the fabric fall on the floor. “I am yours,” you moan to him as his palms knead your breasts through the bra. “Then you should have known better, my stupid bird.”
“You look away from the mirror even once…,” he said, his hands squeezing your breasts roughly, his head propped up to your shoulder, his face set in a smirk, “and that group of women dies.” They were going to die either way but you didn't know that.
You gasp, “Snow- '' His hands squeeze your breasts harder, bordering on pain. “It’s Coryo for you, dove,” he said, slowly yet firmly as if talking to a child. His hands move downwards, one moves to your hip, and for the other, his fingers slip inside your panties. You whimper when his fingertip touches your clit. At any other time, he would have been slow, and gentle when he was rubbing the bud but now? His touch was fast and unconcerned, his sole goal was to inflict punishment with pleasure.
He rubbed at your clit relentlessly, making you soak your panties with your juices. His other hand squeezes your hips. You whine, your eyes closing and he pinches your clit making you moan louder than you should, your eyes opening immediately to meet his gaze.
“Only warning, pet,” he whispered, his finger now playing with the clit even more relentlessly. Back and forth, up and down with no mercy, making the bud swollen and your pussy clench around nothing. “Yes, Coryo,” you gasp.
“My dumb pet can learn after all,” he whispered to your ear and then his lips kissed the clasp of your necklace. His fingers abandon your clit to swipe at your folds to gather your wetness. He chuckles as he continues to tease you like this, his hard cock pressing against your ass.
“Coryo,” you whispered and your eyes connected with his and you knew his fingers could feel the flex of your cunt around nothing. “That's it. Look at me, doll.”
He slipped his fingers one by one into your slit, the stretch making you gasp. “It's too much,” you managed to get out, your voice shaky. “You can take it,” he tuts. His fingers begin to message your wall, hitting every crook and canny you never knew existed. He twisted his fingers thrusting right at your g-spot making you moan loudly, your body was now completely bent over in front of the mirror and your hands gripped the counter for life. Snow continues to playfully stretch you out, scissoring your pussy with his long fingers.
When he finally deemed you loose enough, he pulled his fingers out without a warning making you whimper. He pulls down your panties around your knees, and then his hand unzipped his pant to take his cock out. Something in you liked how he was composed and fully clothed while having you like this, primal and debauched. It showcased Coriolanus perfectly, no matter how prim and proper the man was outside in the end he was as much of a mess.
His impatient was clear with his clenched jaw, one of his hands traveling upwards your body to grip your breast like a handle as his free hand guides his leaking, hard cock into your entrance. “I was going to fuck you good tonight, on a bed properly like a wife deserves,” he begins to say as he pushed in with a single stroke. Your mouth lets out a small scream as your pussy adjusts to his dick. “Instead I have to treat you like a whore, bending your ass over a counter and fuck you while there are people all over the mansion.” He shakes his head disappointed, he meets your gaze, “I expected better, doll.”
“Then why keep a disappointment around,” you snapped at him, making him raise his eyebrows at your tone, his cock twitching inside your walls. “I wonder that myself too,” he grunts, his face buried in your shoulder, his tongue licking your salty skin. “You’re my everything,” he whispered, “Don't you forget that, dove.”
It was a confession that made you turn your back and made you catch his lips. He groans into your mouth as both of your tongues play with each other, expressing words the others cannot say. His free hand went to grip your necklace chain, making you gasp as he fisted the chain and pulled at it, knocking at your breath in one go.
His hips had begun to pound into you, short, hard thrusts that made his cockhead press against your g-spot while his remaining length messaged your walls perfectly. “You don't have to think, doll. I am here to think for you. You don't have to think about deserving me, or Panem. You don't have to think at all, just be my bird. My bird only,” he grunts.
Your eyes had begun to see spots from the lack of air, he hadn't seemed to care as your pussy keeps squeezing around him because of it. He lets go of the chain, making you gasp and you take the air you desperately need as his thrusts begin to get sloppier. Coryo was too impatient, too worked up, too mad at you to care about your pleasure. You were a pet getting used and you loved every second of it.
“I love you,” you whispered to him, and he groaned in response, as his thrusts got slower. He was edging himself to last longer, for this not to end. He bites your nape, not hard as he does usually to make sure the mark fades in a few seconds. His hips continue to rock into you, both of his hands now kneading at your clothed breast. He makes your round flesh spill from the bra and cups them with a groan escaping his lips.
“You’re mine,” he said as he pressed wet kisses all over your neck and shoulders, “Mine.” Your pussy clenched around him, making his pace get even slower, frustration begins to claw your mind as your body tethers to the edge. “Yours,” you agreed. “Fuck me faster,” you plead.
He lets out a laugh, “No. You'll take what I'll give.” “Coryo, my love please!” You begged. His hips stutter, making you feel confused, before realizing why he had stopped. You hadn't called him that since that night and you realized you had leverage on the man.
“My love, please! Fuck me harder,” you spill, “Baby, please!” He clenched his jaw trying so hard not to give in to the instinct of rutting into you like an animal. Knowing that he was near the edge, you continue, “Cum in me and make me walk around the gala with your cum inside, please. Please, mark me!”
That did the trick rather perfectly. His hand wraps around your throat, not choking you but staying there as a comforting presence that shouldn't have been comforting at all. “My dumb pet has ways with words. Gotta fuck that out of you, my dove,” he smirked.
His hips begin to roll into you again, making you gasp and squeeze his dick with your slick walls. The start of it was slow and cautious before Coriolanus decided to throw it all in the wind. He takes half of his length out before slamming it back to you. The sound of hips snapping echoed into the air along with his grunts and your moans. He kept fucking into you, with no care about anything.
Both of your sights were obscene in the mirror and it turned you not to end. Your body had begun to heat, your pussy aching to cum after being played with for so long. The tension in your body was close to snapping, and he knew it too. Knew it the way your cunt kept sucking his cock in so well. His head was on your shoulder, his mouth breathing out hot air onto your skin.
“Look at me,” you whispered, and his eyes snap at you and not even a second later he spills into your cunt, fucking his cum into you as he lets out a whine for the first time. You gasp, feeling your build-up fading without snapping but Snow was never to disappoint. He pulled his cock out, just to stuff you with his fingers. You whimper, your sensitive walls twitching around his fingers, so close to breaking.
Coriolanus doesn't waste a second to thrust into your sopping cunt, your folds covered in his cum, and fucking that into you with his fingers. He crooks his fingers perfectly, hitting your g-spot and making you black out for a second as his fingers keep assaulting your insides without a care.
You gasp, your body starting to give up. Snow has to wrap an arm around you to help you stay balanced. “That's it, doll. Cum on my fingers. I will make you cum on my cock later,” he promised to you. You cry out as his fingers continue their fast pace of thrusting. And finally, finally, your orgasm builds up again. A single graze from his fingertip onto your spongy spot has you not only cumming but squirting too.
Even Coriolanus eyes widen in surprise as you spill your juices onto the floor, ruining your dress and everything. You begin to feel ashamed of losing control in such a manner, but Coryo curses, “Fuck, doll. Fuck, that was…” He couldn't even finish the sentence.
You close your eyes, feeling yourself close to losing balance, only for Snow to swipe your legs from the floor and carry you to the bathtub.
“I’ll take care of you, doll,” he said, “I’ll bring in a new set of clothes, wait.” “What about the gala?” You asked. He kissed your temple before he replied, “I told everyone to leave the moment you walked away. Told everyone you were sick and as your husband, I shall be taking care of you.”
You let out a raspy chuckle, it was rather amazing how Coriolanus Snow always turned everything in his favor. Even this would help his image of being a president who took such good care of his wife and would surely take the country to great lengths.
“Snow lands on top,” you whispered to him with a smile.
Tumblr media
Current tag list: @stelleduarte @nowitsmissing @lifeonawhim @le-lena @dollfacedalls @motley-baby @champomiel @slytherinholland @randomstuff2040 @justacaliforniandreamer @emmalinemalfoy @hyuk4s @theamuz @watercolorskyy
7K notes · View notes
odinsblog · 11 months
Text
“One weird, silver lining positive from the WGA's strike has been a sense of calm over a reality that has plagued me with anxiety for years — the fact that despite having a great agent, manager, and lawyer, despite having been in hundreds of rooms with top execs and producers, despite having pitched countless networks, and despite having sold multiple pilots and pitches, I still work in food and bev. For so long, it felt like such an embarrassment in so many ways because it felt like I was the only one who was biding time in between sales with a side hustle. When I would tell people at work that I wrote television, they'd look at me like I had ten heads, or like I was delusional. They couldn't IMAGINE someone who *actually* wrote television would also be asking them what temp they wanted their salmon.
But the reality is, TV money goes fast, especially when it's just a pilot sale. And if shit doesn't get picked up to series, that money only lasts for so long. Being responsible meant swallowing my pride and keeping a job that was more consistent and steady but also gave me the ability to take pitch meetings, to write on my down time, do rewrites, answer e-mails, and take notes calls.
And for so long I thought I was a minority in that regard. Like I had done something wrong to not be successful enough to rely solely on my career as a writer.
Yet the strike has pushed SO many stories to the forefront of writers doing the exact same thing I've done, GOOD writers, great writers, writers who shit I watch all the time, whose names I instantly recognize, whose reputations in this industry precede them. So when the studios leaked that the goal was to bleed writers dry, to make it so we lost our homes, I had to laugh. Writers like me will literally do anything to keep the dream of writing alive. It's in us. It never goes away, no matter how many steaks you server, how many martinis you mix, how many cold calls you make, how many Uber passengers you pick up, how many pizzas you have to deliver. We always always always find a way to make it to that next great hope of a pitch, a sale, a green light.
And that's how you know that the CEOs are so fucking out of touch with reality. With the industry. With the POINT of the industry the point for most (not all, but most) has never been to be filthy rich, or own a yacht, or even have a membership to SoHo house. It's been to make something we love. To see it come to life, and make other people happy, or sad, or angry, or scared. To take this story you have kicking around your head and turn it into some epic journey. To be part of the process of making worlds and characters come to life. To tell stories.
The CEO's point has been to make as much money as humanly possible. And so they think that's all there is motivating writers. it's not. It never has been. Just because those CEO's wouldn't wait tables or mix drinks or drive a Lyft in order to keep a dream going, doesn't mean the rest of us wouldn't. The CEO's don't have a dream, they have a lifestyle. And I promise you a dream is a much better motivator than a yacht or a Porsche.
Try to bleed us dry, guys. Just because you'd let your own dream bleed to death, doesn't mean we would. We will always find a way to keep it alive.”
—Stefanie Williams, a tv writer on strike
7K notes · View notes
dancingbirdie · 7 months
Text
Back with another bout of plotless smut. Read at your own discretion and take note of the tags. <333
Like my smut writing? Find more here.
We Have All Night
Rating: MATURE
Pairing: Astarion x fem!Reader x Halsin
Word Count: 800
Warnings/Tags: Oral sex (fem!Reader receiving), praise kink, hand kink, threesome technically?, mentions of alcohol, pure plotless smut
Summary: You'd been wondering for some time what it would be like to have Halsin and Astarion share you.
*****
You could have easily blamed the events that ensued on the bottles of Blingdenstone Blush you all had passed around camp that evening. But if you were honest with yourself, the position you found yourself in was one you had been fantasizing about for some time. 
“That’s it, darling,” Astarion coaxed as his fingers slipped gently through your hair, teasing and massaging your scalp. Your head was pillowed in his lap, pupils blown wide with lust as you peered up at him. He smiled down at you, a wicked, hedonistic sort of grin.
“You so desperately want to hold still for him, don’t you?”
You whined your assent, trying your best to keep your hips from bucking – an impossible task considering the relentless way Halsin’s tongue was licking and circling that sensitive spot at the apex of your thighs. 
“Such a good girl. You’re doing so well” Astarion cooed, while Halsin groaned in agreement. The vibrations it created against your skin felt like electricity surging through your limbs. 
Your mind was a disjointed haze of lust and alcohol. Totally uninhibited, you keened loudly as the druid suddenly gripped the softness of your thighs and plunged his tongue inside you.
“Shh, shh, shh” Astarion hushed, moving a hand to cover your mouth. “We don’t want the rest of the camp to hear our fun, do we?”
You groaned and shook your head slightly. 
“Are you sure you don’t want to join in?” you rasped, your lips moving against his slender fingers.
He gave a mischievous little chuckle. “I’m certain. I’m having a wonderful time just watching,” Astarion returned. 
“The night is still young,” Halsin persuaded, pausing his feasting on you to meet Astarion’s eyes. The absence of his mouth left you wanting, aching for contact once more. “If you change your mind, there’s plenty of fun to be had.” 
“A tempting offer, indeed,” Astarion smirked. “Let’s see where the evening takes us, shall we?”
You moaned against his hand as Halsin dipped his head to begin circling your clit with his tongue once more. You fisted his gorgeous auburn locks in your hands, eliciting a groan from his mouth that felt absolutely delicious against your hypersensitive skin. 
“Our sweet pup has an oh-so-difficult time keeping quiet, doesn’t she?” Astarion crooned, tracing his fingers against the seam of your lips. “You’re trying so hard, darling, I know you are.”
His silken, sinful voice felt almost as euphoric as the deplorable things Halsin was doing between your legs. In a bout of unbridled lust, you opened your mouth to capture Astarion’s index and middle fingers in your mouth. 
You sucked down on them, circled them with your tongue, as you imagined having his hard length sheathed down your throat. Your bawdy move drew a sharp breath from the vampire, followed by a quiet groan. 
You paused your ministrations, lifting a hand to pull his fingers from your mouth before asking, “Is this okay? Is it too much?” 
Astarion chuckled darkly, and you watched as his chest rose and fell with uneven breaths. 
“You wicked thing,” he purred. “Yes, it’s okay. And it has the added benefit of keeping you quiet.”
You were beyond laughs and jokes. Hearing his consent, you drew his fingers back down to your mouth and resumed your sucking. You moaned your approval as Astarion pistoned his fingers deeper into your mouth at the same time Halsin inserted two fingers inside you. 
You knew you wouldn’t last long. Not with the way the druid was fucking you with his fingers at the same time his tongue was circling your clit. Not with the way Astarion was trailing one hand delicately across your exposed skin while you worshiped the fingers of his other hand with your tongue and lips. 
Every nerve within you was alight and thrumming with barely-restrained energy. You could feel yourself climbing higher and higher, your body preparing for the sweetest freefall that would soon ensue. Your heels dug into Halsin’s muscled back as you tensed, one hand still clenching his hair while the other held desperately onto Astarion’s thigh. 
“Yes, darling, yes,” Astarion kept coaxing as your body drew more and more taut. A bowstring desperate to be released. 
“Let yourself come, you know you want to,” he added in a soft whisper. 
It was too much. 
Those words, and a final flick of Halsin’s tongue, had you shattering into a thousand pieces. Your cries were barely restrained by the fingers still occupying your mouth. You were lost in pleasure, awash in the tingling aftermath of your release. 
Chest heaving, mind reeling, you could barely find words. 
“That… that was…” you wheezed, before letting loose a giggle. “Everything I’d imagined it would be.”
“You’d thought about this before?” Halsin grinned, wiping his mouth clean against his forearm before leaning down to plant a reverent kiss against your lips. You could taste yourself on him. It gave you more satisfaction than perhaps it should have. 
“My, my. What other sort of depraved carnal pleasures are bouncing around in that head of yours, I wonder?” Astarion added, helping you sit up so that you were lounging between the two of them. 
You shared a conspiratorial grin with both elves. “We have all night, if you’d like me to show you.”
4K notes · View notes
pucksandpower · 7 months
Text
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
Tumblr media
Charles sighs as he walks into the drivers’ 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.
“Wow, if it isn’t Prince Charles in the flesh! Back from another romantic getaway with his imaginary princess,” Max laughs as he enters.
“Come on mates, lay off,” Charles pleads half-heartedly. He knows it is useless.
“I just don’t get it,” Lando chimes in. “There’s no shame in admitting that you’re single. We’re racing drivers, we don’t exactly always have time for relationships.”
“Maybe his standards are too high,” Pierre suggests. “He’s actually holding out for real royalty or something.”
The others laugh as Charles feels his face grow warm. If only they believed him.
“You know what you need?” Carlos grins. “A nice Spanish girl to set you up with. My sister’s friend Elena is single, I could give you her number.”
Charles rolls his eyes. “I told you, I have a girlfriend. Why is that so hard to believe?”
“Because we’ve never seen her!” Max exclaims. “You talk about her all the time but she never comes to races or appears in photos. She might as well be a unicorn.”
“Maybe she’s just embarrassed to be seen with Charles,” Lando teases.
Charles frowns, stung by Lando’s 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.
“Come on guys, that’s unfair,” Pierre says gently, noticing Charles’ discomfort. “If Charles says he has a girlfriend, we should believe him.”
“Thank yo—” Charles starts to say with relief. At least someone is on his side.
“Even if she is imaginary,” Pierre adds with a smirk.
Charles groans and puts his head in his hands as the laughter starts up again. He can’t really blame them for not believing him.
You are basically a fairytale princess — 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.
“Alright, that’s enough,” Daniel interrupts, taking pity on Charles. “Leave the poor man alone.”
“We’re just joking,” Max says defensively. “Charles knows we don’t mean anything by it.”
Charles gives Max a tight smile. “Sure.”
“Tell you what,” Daniel says, clapping Charles on the shoulder. “Bring your mystery girl to a race soon. We’ll all get to meet her and then you can finally prove these jokers wrong.”
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.
“Alright, deal,” Charles says finally. “I’ll ask her.”
The others exchange surprised looks, not expecting him to agree.
“Can’t wait to meet her,” 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 isn’t just a figment of his imagination.
***
Charles is still thinking about you when he is suddenly accosted by Silvia, Ferrari’s Head of Communications, after practice.
“Charles! Just who I was looking for,” she says briskly. “I need to discuss something rather important with you.”
Charles suppresses a groan. Conversations with Silvia are never fun. “What’s up?” He asks with forced cheerfulness.
Silvia lowers her voice. “It’s about your relationship status. We feel it would be beneficial if you were seen dating someone … compatible.”
Charles’ eyebrows shoot up. “Compatible?”
“Yes. A model. Or perhaps an actress. Someone who would look good on your arm and boost your image.”
Charles folds his arms defensively. “What’s wrong with my girlfriend?”
Silvia waves a hand impatiently. “Yes 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.”
Charles frowns. This again. “I keep telling you that she’s really my girlfriend. Y/N is just very private.”
“Private women don’t date Formula 1 drivers,” Silvia says bluntly. “If 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.”
Charles feels his blood boil. How dare Silvia insult his relationship with Y/N? Question their connection?
“Here are profiles of suitable options,” Silvia continues, shoving a surprisingly heavy folder at him. Charles doesn’t open it.
“No.”
Silvia blinks. “No?”
“My relationship with Y/N is off limits,” Charles says firmly. “My personal life is exactly that — personal. Not to be exploited for PR.”
“Don’t be foolish,” Silvia snaps. “This is bigger than you. Your image reflects on Ferrari. We need to be able to control it.”
“No. What you need to do is back off,” Charles shoots back.
Silvia’s nostrils flare. Clearly she isn’t used to such defiance. “Charles, be reasonable—”
“I am being reasonable,” Charles interrupts. “I won’t pretend to date someone just because the team wants me to. I’m with Y/N. I don’t care if you believe me or not.”
Silvia shakes her head in disgust. “You’re making a big mistake. Don’t come crying to me when this blows up in your face.”
She storms off, heels clicking angrily against the floor.
Charles takes a deep breath, adrenaline pumping through his veins. He can’t remember the last time he stood up to Silvia like that. It felt good but also nerve-wracking. He knows she won’t let this go easily.
His phone buzzes and his heart leaps when he sees it’s a text from you.
Heard you had a rough day. Wish I could be there to make it better. I love you 💋
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 can’t change my feelings for you. I love you so much ❤️
He hits send, imagining your smile as you read his text. It doesn’t matter what his team, the media, or even his fellow drivers think. His relationship with you is real and authentic. Someday he’ll 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 — 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, he’ll 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 can’t dodge them forever.
Taking a deep breath, he calls Arthur back.
“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Prince Charles himself, taking time away from his busy schedule of dating princesses to spare a chat with us commoners,” Arthur says slyly upon answering.
Charles rolls his eyes. “Very funny. What do you want?”
“We just wanted to check in on our brother and see how life with Monegasque royalty is treating you,” Lorenzo chimes in. Charles realizes he must be on speaker.
“Oh yes, Princess Y/N,” Arthur says in an exaggerated swoony voice. “Our brother’s one true love since he was 15 years old and had that giant poster of her plastered on his wall.”
Charles feels his face flush. He knows exactly what poster Arthur is referencing — 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.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” he sputters. “I never had a poster.”
“Oh really?” Lorenzo laughs. “I seem to recall you cutting out every picture you could find of her and keeping a little scrapbook.”
Charles cringes internally. Okay, maybe his teenage obsession had been a bit … enthusiastic. But he can’t help that he had recognized you as his dream girl even then.
“Alright, so maybe I had a tiny crush on her,” Charles admits. “But it is not crazy that we ended up together.”
Arthur cackles. “You used to kiss her photos goodnight before going to bed! You were completely obsessed!”
“Remember how he tried to sneak into that royal gala at Salle des Etoiles to see her?” Lorenzo adds. “He was totally insane.”
Charles grimaces at the memory. Okay, not his finest moment.
“Face it Charles, you’ve been in love with the imaginary idea of Princess Y/N since you were in nappies,” Arthur teases. “No shame in admitting she wouldn't even give you the time of day now.”
Charles feels his frustration rising. Why does no one believe him?
“Because your so-called relationship makes no sense!” Lorenzo says, accurately reading his silence. “She’s a literal princess and you’re … you.”
“Gee, thanks,” Charles grumbles. He knows his brothers are just teasing but it still stings.
“Come on, just admit you made the whole thing up to get everyone off your back,” Arthur prods.
Charles sighs loudly. “For the millionth time, what we have is 100 percent real! Just because it seems unlikely doesn’t mean it didn’t happen. I don’t care if none of you believe me, I love her and she loves me.”
His brothers are silent for a moment.
“You alright there?” Arthur asks, his voice softening.
“Yes, I just wish everyone would stop questioning my relationship all the time,” Charles admits. “It hurts.”
“We’re only joking Charles, we don’t mean any harm,” Lorenzo says gently.
“I know,” Charles replies. “Doesn’t make it any easier to hear constantly though.”
“You’re right, we took the teasing too far,” Arthur says. “We’ll lay off from now on.”
Charles smiles slightly. “Thanks. And someday soon I will prove to you that it is real.”
His brothers are silent for a moment.
“Keep telling yourself that,” 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.
“Alright, well, I should get going,” Charles mumbles, eager to get off the phone.
“Chin up, we’re only teasing,” Lorenzo says lightly. “Have fun with your imaginary princess!”
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 isn’t just a figment of his imagination. No matter how long it takes.
***
Charles sinks into the familiar couch in his sports psychologist’s office, exhausted after a long day on the simulator and endless teasing from his team.
“Rough day out there?” Dr. Anderson asks kindly, noticing the strain on Charles’ face.
“That’s an understatement,” Charles sighs. “The 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. It’s like the team wants me to fail.”
Dr. Anderson nods sympathetically. “That must be very frustrating. Tell me more about how it’s impacting you.”
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. “Anyway, it’s just been a terrible season,” he concludes glumly.
“I can certainly understand why you feel that way,” Dr. Anderson says. “It sounds like the team is letting you down in many ways.”
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.
“Is there anything else bothering you lately?” Dr. Anderson asks gently. “Any other sources of stress?”
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.
“It’s just … well, besides the team stuff, no one believes me about my girlfriend,” he admits.
Dr. Anderson raises her eyebrows. “I see. Tell me more about that.”
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.
“It’s so frustrating!" He bursts out at the end. “I don’t know what else I can do to convince them that we are actually together.”
Dr. Anderson purses her lips, jotting down notes. “I can understand why their doubt would upset you. It must be painful to have your relationship questioned.”
“Exactly!" Charles exclaims, throwing his hands up. “You get it. I knew I could talk to you.”
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. Anderson’s 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.
“Oh, by the way, Y/N is coming over for dinner tonight,” Charles mentions casually. “I want you all to finally meet her.”
Pascale laughs lightly without looking up from the stove. “Of course, sweetie.”
Charles frowns. “I’m serious, maman. She’ll be here in an hour.”
“Mhmm, I’m sure she will,” Pascale replies indulgently. Charles huffs in annoyance.
Just then, his brothers come into the kitchen, freshly showered after playing football outside.
“Hey Charles, how’s life with your imaginary girlfriend?” Lorenzo immediately teases.
“She’s actually coming over for dinner tonight,” Charles says tersely.
Arthur lets out a loud laugh. “Yeah right! Good one.” He grabs a piece of bread from the counter, still chuckling.
Charles throws his hands up in exasperation. “Why does no one ever believe me about her?”
“Boys, that’s enough,” Pascale chides gently. “Let your brother dream.”
Charles opens his mouth to retort but just then, the doorbell rings. His eyes widen.
“I’ll 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.
“Surprise!" You laugh, pulling him into a tight hug. Charles melts into your embrace, all his stress and frustration fading away.
“You have no idea how happy I am to see you right now,” he murmurs into your hair.
You pull back to smile at him tenderly. “I’ve been looking forward to this for ages. I want your family to know how much I love you.”
Charles grins and takes your hand, leading your into the kitchen where his stunned family waits.
Pascale’s mouth is hanging open in shock. The piece of bread Arthur is holding falls to the floor with a dull thump.
“Y-your Serene Highness,” Pascale finally manages to stammer out, hastily wiping her hands on a towel. “What an honor, we weren’t expecting you ...”
She shoots an accusatory look at Charles, who throws up his hands defensively. “I told you she was coming!”
Pascale flushes. “Yes, well, I didn’t think … that is … we would have prepared ...”
You step forward gracefully, immediately putting Pascale at ease. “Please, just call me Y/N. I’ve been dying to meet Charles’ family.”
As you effortlessly charm his mother and brothers, Charles stands back watching with a satisfied smile. The shock and sheepishness on his family’s faces is vindicating after so many months of teasing and disbelief.
Charles has never been one to say “I told you so” 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 — finally, a win at his home race!
As he pulls into parc fermé 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 team’s 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 winner’s 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. Charles’ 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. “It is my honor to present this trophy to our victor, who represents Monaco with pride in everything he does, Charles Leclerc,” 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.
“Worth the wait?” He murmurs.
“Absolutely,” you whisper back, squeezing his hand. “I’m so proud of you, mon amour.”
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 drivers’ 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.
“That was quite the reveal,” you say with an amused quirk of your eyebrow.
Charles laughs. “I know, subtlety has never been my strong suit. I hope you don’t mind.”
You caress his face tenderly. “Of course not. I’m happy to finally be by your side. No more hiding.”
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, “No more doubts. No more teasing. They all know now that you’re real and all mine.”
“Forever yours,” you whisper back. And seal it with another perfect kiss.
***
“I can’t believe it. I just … actually can’t believe it,” Max mutters, staring at the large screens around the paddock that are showing you and Charles gazing adoringly into each other’s eyes during the post-race interviews.
“Lord Perceval … dating an actual princess,” Carlos muses in disbelief.
“And not just any princess, his teenage celebrity crush!" Lando exclaims.
“I guess we owe him an apology,” Pierre says sheepishly.
“Big time,” Daniel agrees. “We gave him so much crap for making her up.”
“Speak of the devil,” 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.
“I 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,” he says politely.
The guys mumble greetings, not quite meeting your eyes. You smile graciously. “You can just call me Y/N. Any friend of Charles is a friend of mine and there’s no need for titles around friends.”
Charles narrows his eyes. “Actually I don’t think that will be necessary. I believe they should maintain protocol and address you properly.”
You shoots him a look. “Darling, it’s fine, really. I want your friends to feel comfortable around me.”
But Charles crosses his arms, not budging. “No, it’s not fine. I must insist that they observe the formal mode of address for royalty.”
The drivers shift awkwardly again. You pull Charles aside with a soothing smile.
“What are you doing?” You whisper. “I’m trying to put them at ease.”
“I know but they deserve to squirm for a bit after how much they mocked us,” Charles whispers back petulantly.
You bite back a smile. “Don’t be silly. I know their teasing hurt but let’s move past it. Can you really blame them for thinking it sounds like a made up fairytale? Put yourself in their shoes.”
Charles sighs. “I guess you’re right ... I just want them to respect you.”
“They will, in time,” you say gently. “But forcing them to be overly formal won’t accomplish that. I’m still just me.”
Charles nods reluctantly. “Okay fine, we’ll do it your way.”
You turn back to the drivers who are trying to act natural and pretending that they didn’t just listen in on your conversation with a bright smile. “I’ve heard so much about all of you,” you say. “Charles speaks very highly of his fellow drivers.”
“We’re, uh, happy to finally meet you too,” Max manages to get out.
“Yeah, congrats mate,” Daniel offers weakly.
More awkward silence follows. Charles smirks, deciding to twist the knife a bit more.
“I know you all had your doubts about me landing a catch like Y/N,” he says casually. “But I can’t blame you. Even I can hardly believe someone so incredible would fall for me.”
He gazes at you adoringly as you blush prettily while the drivers fidget uneasily.
“Anyway, as you can now see, she’s real and we are happier than ever!" Charles concludes brightly.
“We’re really sorry for not believing you,” Lando bursts out sincerely. “And all the teasing.”
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.
“Alright, you have to give us all the details,” Max demands. “How did you meet? How did you get her to go out with you? When did it get serious?”
Charles just laughs. “It’s a long story. But the important thing is that she’s the only one for me. Despite everyone doubting us, our love was real from the start.”
“Pretty epic to have a real life princess as your soulmate,” Pierre says dreamily.
“Just remember you knew me back when you all thought she was imaginary,” Charles jokes.
“We’ll never live it down,” 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 — 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.
5K notes · View notes
sinfulspencer · 9 months
Text
Flashed
Tumblr media
Prompt: It’s too hot to wear clothes at home, so Reader walks around in her underwear. Spencer loses his train of thoughts at the sight.
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
Rating: mature (18+)
Warnings: light dom/sub dynamic (Dom!Spencer, Sub!Reader if you squint), dirty talking, hair pulling, light impact play, breeding kink, unprotected sex 
Words: 5.0k
A.N.: Horny Spencer. That’s it. Also, this is the first official Spencer Reid fic I have written since last year. It felt so good to write for him again. Written this with a prompt from the Summer Sunshine challenge by @imagining-in-the-margins. Thank you to @reidselle and @drgenius-reid for beta-reading this fic!
MASTERLIST. REQUEST GUIDELINES. TAGLIST FORM.
Tumblr media
When Spencer asked you to move in with him at the end of the year, he was ready to face every challenge that life would throw at him. The first fights over laundry, the first fight over whoever almost set the house on fire, the first fights over the person that was supposed to remake the bed before going to work, the first fights over whoever left the TV on before going to bed… 
He was prepared for everything.
Spencer learned to cook (he wasn’t good at it, but he knew how to turn on the stove and boil some water, at least). He learned how to do laundry. He learned how to clean the floors without you falling on your own ass because he forgot to tell you that the ground was wet. 
But Spencer wasn’t ready for the summer. 
You moved in with him during the fall season, when it was still cold outside, and it was time to drink hot chocolate in front of the fireplace. You moved in with him when you were still wearing a winter jacket, leather boots and a scarf around your neck. You moved in when the wind was so cold that you could barely keep the window slightly opened in the bathroom after taking a shower to let the steam go out. 
Spencer wasn’t fucking ready for summer.
The hot weather was already taking a toll on his poor body and he hated it. Spencer despised the high temperatures because they made him sweat like a pig and he hated, more than anything, the feel of sweat under his armpits or behind his knees. 
Normally, before you moved in, Spencer would spend the whole time at home completely naked or wearing only underwear. It wasn’t an everyday occurrence, but it happened quite a lot. 
What was the problem, then?
Spencer used to walk around in his apartment in his underwear when he was alone, but you’re doing it while he’s in the house. He knew you paced around the house that way because you felt comfortable, but still. He was a stupid man, with hormones that rushed through his body like crazy.
You walked around your shared apartment with nothing on but a pair of panties that Spencer always wanted to rip off you and a stupid bra that made your breasts look even more delicious. 
And the sight had started to take a toll on Spencer for the worst. He was constantly horny, making it difficult for him to focus on simple tasks such as cleaning the whole apartment or doing laundry. 
He woke up one day and you already were parading yourself in your underwear, which made his morning wood even more difficult to take care of. He came home that same night and you were still in your underwear, which led him to forget he was supposed to grab some dinner with Luke because he ended up taking you against the bedroom door.
Spencer didn’t want you to wear clothes if you were too hot, but he also needed to learn how to keep his hands to himself whenever he saw an inch of your naked skin. He felt like a teenager, always eager to touch and ravish what belonged to him.
When Spencer tried to explain the situation to Luke, his colleague laughed right in his face. At first, Spencer was offended. 
‘Why are you complaining about seeing your girlfriend’s tits? You should be happy she feels comfortable around you.’
And Spencer was happy; he truly was. He was proud to know he made you feel good about yourself and allowed you to walk around the house almost naked, but he also felt like an idiot for getting a boner whenever he thought about coming home and knowing he’d find you dressed like that. 
Or better, undressed. 
That night, Spencer couldn’t wait to get home and tell you that he had a birthday party to attend next week. It was Penelope’s birthday and, as every year for the past ten, she had an entire day planned for her and her friends from work. There would be a huge pool party in a small agritourism she rented for the day, followed by a barbecue and a whole garden to explore. 
Spencer was excited to bring you there. 
You had been dating for over a year now and you couldn’t meet his co-workers and friends because you always had meetings to attend, or shifts that were incompatible with the nights the team hung out all together. 
“Y/N?” Spencer called out when he entered his apartment. 
The lights in the kitchen were on and he could hear you humming to a song blasting from the speakers. 
He dropped his bag on the floor and followed the sound of your voice, only to find you in nothing but your underwear. Again. You had your back turned and were swaying your hips to the rhythm of the music, making Spencer smile at the sight. Though the music was loud and almost hurt his ears, he was willing to tolerate the loud volume if it meant he could observe you in your element for hours on end. 
He was so enamoured with you even though you weren’t doing anything in particular. He fell harder for you everyday just watching you exist, breathe and live on your own.
But of course, the romantic thoughts in his head abruptly stopped when you felt his presence in the room and you screamed.
“Fuck! What the fuck, Spencer?!”
He didn’t want to laugh at your terrified expression, but a chuckle fell from his lips. 
“Did I scare you?”
You roll your eyes, dropping your apron on the counter. “No. I screamed because I was learning how to fry scream. Fuck yes, you scared me.”
Spencer walked to the other side of the kitchen counter and wrapped his arms around your shoulders, pulling you into a tight hug. You smelled like apples and he could see them in the corner of his eyes, all peeled up. 
“How was work? Did you get your stuff done?” you asked
Spencer nodded his head, kissing your temple without losing his grip on you. “Yes. I’m exhausted, though. I couldn’t wait to get home so I could relax and enjoy some time with you.”
You leaned forward, caressing his soft curls. “I bet you’re tired. You’ve been awake since five in the morning.”
As Spencer left the kitchen to get changed, he heard the music turning back on and he smiled. Your footsteps echoed in the room, and he smiled because he knew you were dancing to your favourite songs again. But still, there was a big problem that needed to be solved at that instant. 
You were still in your underwear and of course, he had noticed that. How couldn’t he? 
Spencer saw you for less than three minutes and yet, the bulge in his trousers made it difficult for him to think straight. He didn’t know how it was possible for you to turn him on that much, but you did and it was starting to make things harder for him.
If Spencer brought you to Penelope's birthday party, you were definitely going to wear a bikini. And a bikini is basically the same thing as your underwear… which meant one thing.
“Oh no.”
“Are you talking to me?”
Spencer turned around, attempting to cover the issue between his thighs with the jacket he brought to work that morning. 
“Uh, no love. No, I was just thinking about… something.”
“Care to share?” you asked with an innocent smile.
Spencer knew that smile was actually innocent; you had no ill intentions, but his brain was starting to play games with him. He was so turned on that Spencer thought every little microexpression on your face and every move you made were just actions to tease him and work him up. 
They were not. Or maybe they were.
“Sorry, uh… Yeah. Penelope invited me to her birthday party this Saturday.”
Your face enlightened at his words. “Oh! That’s so nice!”
“She asked me to bring you, too.” 
“I don’t like the tone you just used. If you don’t want to bring me, that’s…”
Spencer widened his eyes, realising that his words might’ve sounded rude. “No! I’m excited to let you meet all of my friends and co-workers, truly.”
“Then, what is it? I know there’s something that bothers you.”
You sat on the bed with your legs crossed, waiting for Spencer to continue but, he didn’t dare to move. If he placed his jacket on the bed, you would’ve noticed the painful tent in his trousers. If he didn’t move, you would’ve asked him why he wasn’t taking off his clothes and putting on more comfortable ones.
Too many thoughts were running wild through Spencer’s brain and it was difficult for him to gather them all, cast aside the naughty ones and focus on the more normal ones. 
It was tough not to stare at the curves of your breasts and how he could see the shadow of your nipples hidden behind the fabric of your bra. He has spent so many hours just licking and sucking your skin around your breasts, that he can still taste you on his tongue if he focuses hard enough. 
“Penelope has rented a whole place for all of us.”
You hummed, tilting your head. “Sounds really nice. Is there a swimming pool involved? Is that why you’re worried?”
Spencer bit his bottom lip, forcing himself not to stare at the way your hair fell over your shoulders and covered the laces of your bra. A few days ago, he used his teeth to remove that same bra. It was a struggle not to think about that night, and he pathetically failed.
“I’m sure the place she rented is clean and…”
As you started to speak and comfort Spencer over his fear of germs, his mind wandered elsewhere. You moved to the centre of the bed to be closer to him and laid on it, with your arms behind your head and your body all stretched out. 
Your bra barely covered your full breasts and your thighs were much more visible, with all the little bruises still peppering your skin. The same bruises he caused two days before. The same bruises you begged him to create on. 
Spencer’s brain was starting to get even foggier. 
“Are you even listening to me, love?” 
You snapped your fingers in front of his face and Spencer dropped the jacket on the floor, quickly bending over to pick it up. Of course, he was listening to you, but he was just… thinking about something else while you were talking. 
“Hm.”
“I’ll take that as a no.”
Spencer turned away from you and looked down, frowning. His bulge was still there and getting more painful, but how in the world was he going to face you and ask you if you could help him out? He knew you would, in a heartbeat, but he felt miserable. 
How could he ask you to stop walking around his place in nothing but your underwear when he wanted to worship your body every hour of every day? How could he deny himself the sight of your stunning body? 
His eyes went straight to your breasts and of course, you noticed it. 
“Spencer!”
“Hm? What’s up?”
“My God.” - you started to say, sitting up on the bed - “You’re distracted! You can’t even finish a sentence or listen to me.”
Spencer hummed again, forcing his eyes to stay on your face. Unfortunately, they slipped down to your breasts once again - but that time, Spencer didn’t deny it. How could he? He had been so obvious since he arrived home, but you thought to yourself that maybe you were imagining things.
Or you were too horny, but you weren’t. He was. 
“I’m sorry, it’s just…”
“You’ve been staring at my breasts since you saw me in the kitchen.” you stated
Spencer sighed, turning his back on you again. “I’m sorry. They’re distracting.”
“Look at me, love.”
He lingered for a few seconds, covering his face with both hands. He didn’t want to turn around because he knew you would’ve teased him for hours on end, but it truly wasn’t his fault. It was his brain that tricked him into staring at your boobs and remembering all the things he did to you the night before and all the other days. 
It wasn’t his fault he had an eidetic memory and he could replay all your moments of intimacy together each time he wanted. How you looked when he kissed your neck, how you moaned when his tongue swirled around your nipples…
“You can look at them whenever you want, you know.” - you tapped his shoulder, kneeling behind him on the bed - “I’m your girlfriend, aren’t I?”
“That’s not the point, Y/N.” - Spencer replied, forcing himself to turn around - “You’re so distracting, I can barely think when you’re there… dressed up like that.”
You raised your brows. “Do you want me to change?”
“No!” - he exclaimed, before clearing his throat - “I mean… maybe. I don’t know, but I can’t keep getting hard because you’re half-naked.”
“What’s wrong with being attracted to me, love?” you asked with your arms crossed.
“There’s nothing wrong with that, you know, but it’s hard to be around you when all I think about is how I want to just…” - he took a deep breath before shaking his head - “I need to behave, I’m sorry.”
There was a moment of silence where you pondered over his words. He seemed so miserable and all because he was so attracted to you that he could barely think, that he could barely remember that he had other things to do other than you. 
That felt incredibly hot. 
Leaning forward, you placed a hand on his hip. “I want to hear what you’re thinking about right now.”
Spencer shook his head, covering your hand with his. “It’s too early.”
“It’s never too early to make love to your partner, Spencer.”
You were right, he knew that, but he also knew that if he kissed you and took you right there, he would’ve spent the whole night just trying to do it over and over until you were too tired to move or to keep your eyes open. 
Spencer sighed and looked down at you. “You drive me crazy.”
“And what’s the harm in that, love?” you asked innocently 
He moved his hands under your neck and forced you to look at him, gripping your chin with his fingertips. You went quiet, trying to decipher the expression on his face, though the tight grip was already a good hint of what he was thinking about.  
“No harm.”
“Exactly, so… What’s stopping you?”
Spencer knew nothing was stopping him from pressing your body onto the mattress and pounding into you. He had every right to do so because he knew you wanted it as much as he did, but still. There was an issue to fix and he refused to let his hormones get in the way, once again. 
But maybe just this time, Spencer thought.
You leaned your head against his palm, and closed your eyes when his fingers brushed over your cheek. He could look at you for hours, admiring how you basked in the sweetness of his touch that you found so comforting. 
“Nothing’s stopping me.”
You sighed, running your hands over his chest. “Good.”
Spencer unbuckled his belt and the metal clanking of it falling onto the floor brought an eager smile to your lips. Of course you smiled, because you were about to get exactly what you wanted since he came home. 
Little minx, Spencer thought. 
“You don’t need to hold back from what you truly desire, Spencer.” 
He drank up your words like they were the sweetest honey and he sighed. You were right; he didn’t need to stop himself from putting his hands over you if you wanted to be touched as well, but still.
“If you want to rip my underwear off me, you can do it.” - you muttered, slowly opening the buttons of his shirt - “If you want to fuck me like this, while I’m almost naked and you’re still dressed, you can do it.”
Spencer watched as your skilled fingers pushed his shirt off his shoulder and sighed, because there was nothing else he could do or say at that moment. You had him wrapped around your tiny finger and you knew it, which was why he loved you so much. You could’ve snapped your fingers and he would’ve dropped to his knees for you. 
“I just.. I just need to have you. At all times.”
“You can.” - you replied with no hesitation, only firmness in your voice - “I am here for your pleasure. Always.”
Spencer released a long sigh. “I know. I’m so lucky.”
Pushing his trousers down his legs to reveal his soft skin, you looked up at him with your lips turned into a wicked grin. You could see the emotions rapidly changing behind those eyes: lust, frustration, love, annoyance and desire. That was exactly what you wanted: you craved to drive Spencer crazy and you needed him to lose his mind over you. 
It made you feel powerful.
“You’re so pretty when you’re desperate for me.” you said 
Spencer leaned into your touch when you reached out for his face. “So are you, princess.”
But the tender moment was gone as fast it came, because there was no time to be nice to one another. Spencer wanted to wreck you and you wanted him to do as he pleased; you wanted the pleasure to consume him, and so it did.
Spencer kissed you for the first time since he came home and, of course, he had no time to be nice. His tongue pushed into your mouth without warning, but you let it as you laid down on the bed with the man on top of you. The kiss expressed all the frustration that had built within him ever since he came home and found you in the kitchen, wiggling your ass to the music and singing at the top of your lungs. 
His teeth dug into the soft flesh of your bottom lip and you whined, almost tasting blood on your tongue. 
“Let me be rough tonight.”
You grabbed him by the chin, staring right into those honey-coloured eyes. “Perhaps I was not clear with my words a moment ago, Spencer. I want you to do whatever you want to me.”
Spencer groaned at your words and pushed any rational thought out of his mind, allowing the frustration and profound desire felt for you to drive him. His pupils were blown wide with unbridled lust making you shiver, bringing the heat between your thighs where you so desperately wanted to be touched. 
Spencer kissed your mouth before moving down to your throat, attacking it with bites and gentle licks that made you whimper. 
“I’m going to ravish you tonight, my princess.” - Spencer whispered to your ear, running his hands all over your breasts - “And you’re going to take my cock like the good girl I know you are for me, yeah?”
“Yes. Yes, love.”
He moved his hands to your face, kissing the tip of your nose. “Hands and knees.”
You scrambled to turn around, struggling to move as his arms didn’t give you as much space as you needed. Spencer, ever so helpful, pulled your hips up when you managed to roll on your tummy. 
“Good girl, that’s it.”
You could feel his cock against your ass when he leaned forward to bite your shoulder and you moaned, closing your eyes. His nails dug into the soft flesh of your back, dragging your panties down your thighs before throwing them on the floor. 
Spencer’s mouth wandered down your neck, leaving a trace of kisses that started from your right shoulder and went down to your ass. He nibbled at the soft skin right below it before biting down, hard enough to draw blood. You yelped at the feeling, but didn’t complain as your hands scratched the blanket. 
Spencer pulled away for a second and traced the small wound with the tip of his index, earning a hiss from you. It hurt, but you wanted it to hurt - you promised you’d bleed for him, and bleed you did. 
“Good girl. So pretty for me.” - Spencer whispered, but you were more focused on the sound of a bottle of lube being opened - “I’m sorry, I’m so impatient to have you. I wish we could take this slow, but I can’t.”
“It’s okay, I know you’re desperate.” - you mumbled, moaning softly when his fingers breached your entrance - “It’s fucking cold.”
He chuckled at your reaction, smearing the lube all over your already wet slit. “Oops”
When you were ready, Spencer found no resistance as he slowly pushed the tip of his cock inside of you. He watched the way your walls welcomed him in and revelled in the sweetness of your whimpers and whines when you felt him. Spencer waited, watching you as you struggled to stay still for him. 
“Please, just… Get inside, for fuck’s sake.”
“Oh? Wanna take it all at once, my princess?” - Spencer asked, running his left hand through your hair - “Are you desperate for my cock? Then, fucking have it.”
In one hard thrust, Spencer bottomed out inside of you and you fell on the bed with your face in the pillow. You trembled when you finally felt every inch of his cock inside of you and you thought you were ready to fall off the edge in less than a minute. 
You were desperate for him every single time you had the chance to make love to him.
“Take it, princess. You wanted it and now you have it.”
Spencer watched you as you arched your back, tightening your grip on the bed sheets. A chorus of curses and moans flows from your lips as you try to get back on your knees, but his thrusts are too quick and harsh to let you get in position. So, again, you fell down with your face in the pillow. 
The pleasure quickly expanded through your body as Spencer never slowed down the pace of his thrusts, basking in the gentle sounds of your moans. His right hand travelled down to reach your ass, and before you felt it, you heard it - there was a brief moment of silence, followed by a loud smack and then a deep heat diffusing over your skin. 
It had been so long since he spanked you, but with that position, you couldn’t blame him.
The sensation heightened the pleasure within you. 
“Oh, fuck!”
Spencer moved both his hands on each side of your head and leaned forward, keeping his thrusts quick and regular. You could feel his body tense each time you tried to push back into him, to fuck yourself onto his cock. 
You were already close, desperate to ride that delicious end. 
“Please, more.” - you cried out again - “Please, I’m close.”
“Don’t you dare.” - he bit your earlobe - “Don’t you fucking dare come on my cock now.”
You whined at his order, not sure how you would be able to hold it and be a good girl for him. It wasn’t easy to hold an orgasm, especially if Spencer never stopped fucking into you with all the energy he had in his body. You were so close, you were right there but Spencer stopped his movements - and suddenly, you felt a warm tear slip down your cheek.
A single tear of frustration. 
Spencer forced you on your back, pushing you onto the mattress before sliding his cock back inside of you. 
“I want to see your pretty face when you come, princess.” - Spencer whispered, lifting your right leg and wrapping it around his own waist - “I want you to look at me as you come undone on my cock.”
His pace is as rough as before and you felt more tears spill from your eyes. Your hands quickly went behind his neck as you rolled your hips, a pathetic attempt at fucking yourself back onto his cock to feel more and more. 
You couldn’t form a coherent sentence. The only word that fell from your lips was a strained ‘yes’ that echoed in the room, encouraging Spencer to go harder and faster, to tear you down piece by piece.
And he looked fucking stunning as he did so. 
His lean body, his muscles were tense, a single strand of hair falling over his forehead and his tongue poking out in concentration… You wanted to get those details tattooed on your brain, on your body, every-fucking-where. 
“Such a good girl for me, huh? My pretty princess.” - Spencer whispered, looking down at you - “Always welcoming me with nothing on, knowing how crazy that makes me.”
Your lips opened slightly, more whimpers flowing from them. 
“Do you know how difficult it is to get out of here and not remember all the times I’ve fucked you against the door?” he said, his voice rough.
You shook your head, not sure if you understood what he said. 
“Fuck, you make me so horny. I fucking love your body.” - he mumbled, pressing his forehead to yours - “I always think about it and then I see dressed like that… It’s like you’re always begging me to bend you over and fuck your pretty cunt.”
You’ve always loved his dirty mouth, but that day it felt deliciously perfect. His thrusts were rough and faltering, which meant he was close to his orgasm too - you almost forgot you were close, totally enamoured by him and the way he spoke about you.  
“My slutty princess.”
You nodded with a smile, drunk on your lust for him. “All yours to use and destroy.”
You felt the pleasure built up again right behind your belly button and you knew you were close again. Spencer must’ve noticed it because he kept his pace quick, never changing the angle because he felt you clench hard around him each time he bottomed out. Your thighs were shaking around his waist and he could feel your heartbeat quickening under his fingertips. 
“My good girl.” - he mumbled, closing his eyes for a moment - “I can feel you’re close. Do you want to come on my cock, princess?”
He didn’t need a verbal answer, because soon your cries of pleasure were enough. You widened your eyes and threw your head back onto the pillow, crying out his name over and over as your nails dug into his shoulders. He could feel his skin breaking under your nails but he didn’t care. 
Spencer was too enamoured with you to realise how painful your grip was. 
“That’s it, gorgeous. You did so well.” he rewarded you with a kiss on the lips 
You barely felt it, drunk on the pleasure that he fed you. Your whole body was shuddering as Spencer helped you ride out your orgasm, but the more he thrusted, the more pain you felt stabbing you. You didn’t complain, though. 
You wanted it, you needed it and so did he. 
“Does this pretty princess want my cum deep inside of her, hm?” Spencer asked
You weren’t sure he heard you, but you managed to choke out: “Yes. Please, please, fucking do it. Please.”
A few thrusts later, Spencer granted you your wish. His warmth flooded you from the inside as he watched the way his body become one with yours, shivering with pleasure. His right hand pressed down hard below your belly button and you winced, feeling his seed run deep if that was even possible. 
It felt so incredibly good you could almost come again. 
“Ah, that felt fucking perfect.”
You closed your arms around his neck and caged him against your body, so that he wouldn’t be able to run away. Not that he wanted to, of course, but. 
Spencer didn’t move for at least five good minutes, struggling to catch his own breath while you stared at the bedroom ceiling with a grin on your face. You were deeply satisfied with yourself and you were sure Spencer was content, as well - though the conversation between you wasn’t over. 
You knew that not putting on clothes would’ve distracted him and maybe that was exactly why you never put them on when he was around in your shared apartment. It was fun to see him struggling between staring at your breasts or at your thighs, or forgetting that he had to hang out with his colleagues because he was too busy burying his face in your cunt or fucking you against a window. 
It felt good to be desired, and it felt even better knowing that it was the only thing Spencer was able to think about when he was away from you. 
“You have to stop walking around our place naked.”
You put a hand on his chest, gently pushing him upward. Spencer was still lying between your legs, but he was staring at you. 
“Naked? I am always wearing my underwear.” you stated 
Spencer bumped the tip of his nose against yours. “Which is dangerously distracting, Y/N.”
“Oh, you’re using my name in a conversation.”
“I’m being serious, princess. I can’t get a boner whenever I’m near you.” - he explained, pressing a kiss on your jaw - “Believe me, I appreciate the sight but… My brain needs some rest. And so does my penis.”
“Okay, alright. I’ll do my best to keep my clothes on.” - I decided to give in - “After six weeks of pure hell, I think you deserve a break.”
Spencer kissed your cheek, before biting it softly. “I appreciate it, my princess.”
“But that doesn’t mean I won’t do it occasionally just to drive you crazy.” you warned him 
“Oh, I’m fine with that.” - he said, rolling off your body - “But give me a heads up before doing it, okay? I wouldn’t want to come home with Luke and find you in your underwear.”
“Well… it could be fun. Maybe he’d like to join…”
Spencer covered your mouth with his’ before you could finish your sentence, but the kiss was interrupted by your loud laugh echoing through the walls. 
“Alright, Luke will never see me like this.” - you gave him a peck on the lips, pushing him off you before he could spread your legs again - “This sight is for your eyes only.”
Tumblr media
TAGLIST @blvebanisters @koukatsuki @moesdraft
BROKEN TAGS @alelaeljfj @donttrustlove
8K notes · View notes
noxtivagus · 1 year
Text
hdalkfjsldf i miss my friends :c
#🌙.rambles#sometimes i. hmm. usually actually i may be too busy or too shy to say it outright#but i miss when we'd talk. i miss when we'd call; i miss the sound of your voice n the way you laugh n smile#sorry . i just. really write like that. hdfkasdjfd i love the ppl in my life v much :c#i know the way my eyes turn when i see you online. or the way i notice the songs you play. or when you have a new playlist#n always i still find there's so much more i want to say. n when you appear too in my dreams—how could i ever forget?#oh these tags r just gna be for several ppl so i won't be too obvious about it#i miss when i was less busy n we'd exchange. asks? texts? yeah. & when we'd play tgther n i rmb how i'd always look forward to the next tim#i miss the days when. i used to write about you being in them. bcs i write down.. mostly everything so that i can remember.#i miss when we were kids n us four wld hang out in the library. i miss those days so much#i miss in lower school when we'd run around the field.. imagining scenarios. hehe#i rmb writing stories tgther w some other friends. having my friends read what i write too#yeah. i miss when we'd be able to see n talk w each other nearly every day. whether irl or online.#i do find myself missing when my sleep sched was fucked up bcs i used to talk to ppl quite a lot in those times#i miss. so much but we're all getting busier in our own lives. n i wish. i think. i cld be more in each of them. like. mutually?#but yeah yk as we age there's so much more to manage :c but i can't help but dream. i'll never stop.#n. i think this is combined w a lot of ppl lately like. those i haven't talked w as much. which is. nearly everyone actually#but like yk like w.. my friend grp rn yh n. a lot of other stuff combined. i just. i think i just wish we cld all be more sincere w#each other. now i see even more clearly why people drift apart as they age. we all get busy w each our own lives yk?#n i'm busy w my own too but. just like how i still remember n love everyone dearly. i think. i just need reassurance that.#yk. you feel the same way too. n personally i wish i cld hesitate less but i'm afraid of unintentionally adding more to the burden#n other times i just. really lack the energy. idk there's so much to write n in so many aspects.. just so many left unfinished.#but. i know well how. closure is. hard to get by. i'm very well acquainted w that feeling of lack of closure.#hmm. being insatiable is so bittersweetly part of human nature. we can be happy n satisfied but.. yeah honestly i think#it's just. really in life's nature to never ever be quite enough. so changing mindset is. really important but. still. it aches.#n i know i miss a lot. n i know i wish i did more n i cld do more even now. but we're all busy n#no it's. it's fine. i think what's best is for all of us to do what we can with our own selves so that we can do more w the rest of the#world too. n i'm sure i'll find a way that works for me. i know what i want; & i'll just promise to never let go. never forget.#n that wld be enough rn. theres only so little time in the world n it feels like it goes by far too fast but. i for one has never forgotten#n. i'll always be here. BUT YEAH WAIT I'M ACTUALLY BUSY TOO I SHLD DO MY ASSIGNMENTS TMRRW BCS I WNA REST 😭😭
1 note · View note
writersdrug · 1 month
Text
Simon Riley x Dog Sitter! Reader pt. 3
<- Previous Next ->
Warnings: mild cursing, boredom, thas really it
A/N: Holy shit I cannot believe how much love this is getting, and it's so much fun to write!! I've decided to makes this a fully fledged fic instead of just a drabble, and I'll be posting it on ao3 too! Let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist! Also sorry if formatting changes, I'm trying to have some sort of order among my writing.
Tumblr media
Simon had never told you how long he'd be gone - which was fine, your flat was only a twenty-minute drive from his home, should you need to do laundry or get more soap. You had some freelancing logo-design work you could focus on in your downtime, and Simon had been gracious enough to leave a note on the coffee table with the wifi password. Truth be told, you imagined this would feel like a holiday: no more shitty bosses. You were your own boss, here. You could make your own schedule, as long as you made time for Riley.
You soon discovered, after moving into Ghost's house, that it was very much not a vacation. The interior of his home was so barren that it made you feel like you had been sent to an asylum. On your first day there, you managed to get a bit of freelance work done; after that, you tried watching the telly, but you couldn't drown the heavy restlessness in the back of your mind.
You decided to phone a friend.
"What's Riley like?" Leslie said through the phone, which was tucked under your ear.
"Military dog." You replied. You were lying on the floor next to Riley, stroking her fur as her head rested on your stomach. "So proper, I've never seen anything like it. You know- when I made breakfast today, I dropped some food on the linoleum- she didn't bat an eye. Girl just watched."
"That's amazing... you know Donald would have run to it like it was the first meal he'd been fed in years."
You laughed, making Riley's head bounce on your abdomen. "Mum has got to stop feeding them real food..."
"What about the client?" Leslie said, changing the subject. "Simon, was it? What's he like?"
"Honestly?" You began, scratching between Riley's ears. "A decent guy, don't get me wrong - but bland. Gruff. His apartment is, too."
"Just like ya mum always said." She snickered. "Can I see?"
You sighed. "Nah, I never checked if it was ok to bring people over. Not sure if he'd appreciate me giving you a tour. But I'll ask next time if you can visit."
"That's fair..." You heard her shuffling around on the other end of the line. "Well listen babes, I should get back to work. Got five left on my lunch break."
You groaned at the prospect of having to be alone in Simon's barren home again. "Alright... still on for this Thursday?"
"You know it! Nina's coming too."
You grimaced. "Whoop-tee-doo..."
"Oh, c'mon, I'll make sure she's civil. Love ya."
"She'd better be. Love you!"
The call ended with a click, and you let the phone slide from your shoulder with a sigh. You stared at the ceiling, running through what you could possibly do. You'd already had a shower at your flat before coming here, you'd done plenty of work...
Riley tilted her head up to look at you, sensing your frustration. You looked back down at her.
"What d'you and Simon do all day?" You asked.
She sighed and looked away.
Maybe it was time for a walk.
"Alright, Riley!" You said, pocketing your phone and sitting up. She scrambled up at the sudden movement; her eyes followed your every move as you stood, her stare expectant and excited.
"Fancy a walk?" You asked.
She whined and yapped, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.
You chuckled. "C'mon, then - before you and I both start going insane."
On your way to the closet to fetch her leash, she had nearly knocked you down to beat you there. You huffed, leaning down to grab your shoes and tug them on. She sat (im)patiently and watched, her tail slapping against the wooden floor.
"Alright, alright..." You laughed, grabbing her leash and latching it onto her harness. She obediently trotted to the front door and sat, waiting for you. You opened the door and stepped outside, confused when the leash tugged in your hand. You looked back inside and saw that Riley hadn't moved from her seat on the floor. She looked at you, ears forward and eyes eager as she waited for... something.
You looked at her, puzzled. "What's wrong, girl?"
She whined, pointing one foot up and thumping her tail against the floor.
Oh, right. Military dog.
"Okay, Riley." You said clearly, and she happily trotted out the door. You chuckled, locking the deadbolt behind you and beginning the much needed walk. She stuck right by your side, never passing you nor falling behind.
For the kind of gruff, admittedly shady man that Simon was, you noticed that he lived in a pretty nice area. If you told your mum where he lived, she'd blow a cap out of jealousy - the houses were neatly lined down the street, each one with a driveway and a small garden bed underneath the living room windows. Simon's was noticeably bare - Christ, even his grass was thinner than the other neighbors', how does one manage that?
You eyed his empty garden bed as you passed it. You wondered if he would let you plant a few things... just to liven up the drabness. A couple of Hostas, maybe some African Violets... you knew he wouldn't want too much colour, but he definitely needed something to brighten his home. Currently, it stuck out like a sore thumb against the other houses. Not to mention, it would give you something to slice through the boredom of staying here.
Eventually, the sidewalk led to the edge of a small patch of woods. A bridge stretched over the creek, which then led to a longer, winding path through the trees. You came to a halt, reading the sign next to the trail.
"Po-wee-hee-co park..." You mumbled and Riley stared at you with her tongue hanging from the side of her mouth. "Poeheko Park? You ever been here?"
She looked between you and the trail, sniffing the air. She licked her lips and whined.
"Suppose not, Simon's only ever dragged you around the block a few times, huh?"
She eyed the trail warily, but you could see her eyes brimming with eagerness and interest. You chuckled, reigning in her leash and starting over the bridge. "Time for an adventure!"
------------
Simon sat stoicly on the heli, eyes fixed on the wall across from him. His palms rested on his thighs, fingers splayed. He appeared calm and collected, focused on the mission that Priced had debriefed not too long ago.
Except, the mission couldn't have been further from his mind. He was thinking about you and Riley. We're you giving her enough attention? That was a dumb question; clearly you knew how much attention a dog needed. You'd done this before... but had you ever worked with a dog that had certain needs and medications? You never mentioned it during the interview, and he didn't remember to ask. What if you couldn't see the signs when Riley's pain was flaring up? What if you had forgotten that she needed pain medication?
He thought about texting you - but he quickly shut the thought down. He'd reserved texting for emergencies only, and he knew you were good at your job. There wasn't a moment of your life you hadn't spent around dogs, of course you would take perfect care of Riley.
"Honin' in, LT?" Soap's voice echoed through the coms as he took the seat opposite from Simon. He was relaxed, as if this was just another Friday for him - well, Simon supposed, it was.
"Always." Simon replied gruffly, focusing back on the mission at hand. He cleared his throat and flexed his fingers, trying to keep a cool composure.
"How's Riley doin'?" Soap asked. "Know I jus' seen 'er a few days ago, but- ye finally cave n' get someone to pet sit?"
Simon grunted. "'Course. Not gonna leave 'er alone that long, it'd be torture."
"Who'd ye get?"
"What's it to you?"
"Secret service? Ye snag one of the Royal Guards fer the job?"
"Jog on, Soap." Simon warned with a serious look, and Soap raised his hands in defense.
He couldn't tell Johnny about you. A fierce, possessive feeling in his chest told him not to. He knew Johnny had a thing for young, pretty things like you, and he refused to let you fall victim to his desires. In fact, he hated the thought of it.
But- who was he? Why was he being so protective over someone he barely knew? You were an adult, perfectly capable of making your own decisions. Why should Simon cockblock you and Johnny? So what if he wanted to shag you?
Mentally, he shook his head. No. Never. He'd lock you in his house if it meant keeping Jonny away from you. Even if Simon wasn't anything more than your client, he wasn't going to allow Johnny to get close to you. It would be too weird. You're his, after all.
...
Fuck.
He sighed and adjusted his position in his seat. You and Johnny didn't even know each other, for Christ's sake. He was overthinking all of this. You'd probably never even meet his team, why would you need to? You only ever have reason to spend time in his house, not on base. You just watch Riley, make breakfast in his kitchen, sleep on his couch, maybe his bed, if you're with the dog... using his bathroom, his shower...
He scowled at himself. Maybe hiring you was a huge mistake. You were too distracting.
------------
Taglist: @my-queen-rhaenyra-targaryen @jisungswiftie @sweet-tooth4you @kennyis-aloser @hyyyxr @lahniu @dory-98 @naradae @cum-tea-and-towels @boystepper @definitelynotaclown @your-wifes-boyfriend @ghostslittlegf @bossva @poppingaround @yannvi @katzykat @mileyraes @chocolate-noodles @jupiternighties @sadlonelybagel @rorysbrainrot @identity2212 @pricescontroversiallyyoungerwife @reevesdriver @kingshitonly @ghost4love @lilyofhoon @xxkay15xx @cosmic-nuisance4 @danielle143
1K notes · View notes
satoruhour · 7 months
Note
i can’t stop thinking about riding satoru while he’s laying down his hands behind his head and watching us with a smug face ahhhhhhh i’m pulling my hair out
a/n: i immediately turn poetic whenever i write for gojo idk why guys 💀 + combining with another request where anon sent this in and said satoru core, so real! / tagging @shotorus @hannzai @arminsumi @jabamin @hyomagiri <3
warnings: dom!satoru, fem!reader, i lay the praise on thick here n i could be projecting but idk, pet names, humping, clit stimulation, overstimulation, riding, unprotected sex, multiple rounds, creampie / breeding kink, brief consensual filming, n*sfw under the cut
Tumblr media
you think that you’re not so bad on the stamina spectrum — you could hold your own against a special grade pretty easily even after getting beaten down in unexpected attacks, training with your students have kept you on your toes and alert despite your years, and satoru . .
oh, being with satoru has your stamina improving without even you knowing it. whether it’s pushing him away during tickle fights, smacking him hard on the back when he forgets about his students’ missions yet again, or letting yourself submit completely to him in the bedroom, it’s never just one round with gojo. the man was naturally fit and had his reversed cursed technique that he was basically invincible.
you? not so much, always struggling to catch up if your boyfriend wasn’t doing any of the work.
“s-satoru . . please, i need h-help,” you whine out, so so sensitive from the endless foreplay your lover had put you through for teasing him with raunchy photos. it wasn’t your fault he was gone for so long, sent to the rural parts of japan to exorcise a dormant curse — the signal was so terrible there that gojo couldn’t even text his pretty baby whom he missed so much, finally reaching his wits’ end and teleporting to a cell tower only to be met with your body stretched into suggestive poses with very little left to the imagination.
gojo swears he’s never seen beauty like yours before, like a breath of fresh air from the first time he’s got you in his arms to the photos he’s received on that cell tower. a mission has never been finished that quickly before; a teleport and one swipe of his hand, another teleport.
“you don’t want your lovely boyfriend to enjoy his time?” gojo pouts, hands spanning your ass and squeezing at the fat there. you moan at the sensation coupled with the drag of your clit along his thigh — his cock wasn’t even in you and you were already reduced to moans. “after you draped your body in baby blue and you already want to get to fucking?”
gojo has a little lilt in his voice that pisses you off because you know he wants to fuck you bad. you remember how riled up he was when he returned home three hours before, chest heaving and sweaty. you can feel the throb of his cock under you and the little noticeable shaky breaths, but making you beg, making you needy for him is his favourite pastime.
“f-fuck you, ’toru!” you stutter out, thighs burning from grinding so long into his leg that you don’t even know whether you’re cumming or not; all you know is the addicting feeling each time he tenses his thigh for you. satoru laughs, wandering hands leaving trails of fire along your skin as you gasp and grasp at his shoulders. he lets you, squeezing encouragingly at your waist and helping you just a little. a small smile spreads across his face when he feels your cunt twitch at his beautiful laugh, entrance clenching around nothing.
“soon. you’ll need to be patient,” gojo chastises, eyes flitting between watching your connected parts of smeared arousal and your expression of closed eyes and a pretty ‘o’  that catches the moonlight, “look at ’er,  just so wettt . .” the sorcerer whistles at the mess you’re leaving on his leg, juices flowing so sinfully that it leaves a clear sheen of reflectiveness to it. 
“c’mon baby, c’mon baby, you can cum for me, can’t you?” gojo taunts and you feel the need to answer him even when your own body is asking you to rest.
“mhmh, ’toru—” you hump his thigh harder, tugging his body closer as you settle for the most friction you can get against your puffy clit. because you’re leaking so much, the glide of your pussy is so smooth and sticky along his skin, chasing your high more and more until your words are choked out in a high-pitched moan — “satoru, satoru, s-shit . .!”
gojo coos at your unravelling, bumping his leg into your cunt repeatedly as you ride out your orgasm and by now he is hard that it hurts almost, but he’s focused on your pleasure. he licks his lips like a pervert when you tremble at the orgasm, carrying your leg over his just to see strings of your cum stick to your core and his skin, laying a light slap to your pussy just to hear the slickness.
“oi!” you call out, out of breath as you swat his hand away as he giggles and have to take a breather against your boyfriend’s chest, burying your face into his neck. but for as long as satoru have been teasing you, he hasn’t been getting any action and is desperate to just be in you, fishing his cock out from his underwear. it’s pretty as always, curved with an angry red tip that is aching to stretch you out and a vein that runs along the side of it; it slaps into your inner thigh as he pumps it with a low groan.
“can ya ride me, sweetness?” you let out a small sound of disagreement, littering kisses along his skin in hopes that he’d indulge you, but with his free hand, he’s tapping his tip against your welcoming cunt, emphasising the sheer amount of cum you were dripping with. below you, his toned chest vibrates with the moans at the warmth of your cunt, of your 
“’m tired . .” you trail off, before a quiet gasp leaves  you when satoru first pushes past your entrance. and though you’ve taken him so many times, his girth still surprises you to some extent, digging your forehead further into his collarbone as he pushes into your gummy walls. bit by bit, your boyfriend bottoms out in you but does anything but move and of course, it’s a ploy by the one and only. “you’re not going to fucking move, aren’t you?”
gojo makes a terrible ding! sound and snaps his fingers, prompting a glare out of you until the needy words come tumbling out of his mouth, “i want to see you ride me, baby, please.”
“weren’t you the one coming home like a sex-crazed mani— ah!” he knows he still holds control over you when he snaps his hips into you and you freeze up with a whine of his name, nails digging into the sheets and skin. “that’s cheating.” gojo simply hums, placing a kiss on your lips that you don’t reciprocate before the room falls into silence: he leans back, putting both hands behind his head before nodding at you — and because he knows it’s him, he carries the gesture with confidence with no break in his character of just how you were so goddamn tight and warm.
he grits his teeth before trying to relax, “d’you think my pretty girl can give me a show?”
obedient and defiant, you moan softly with a glower, “s-sure i can— lazyass.”
gojo knows you mean it with affection, letting out a small laugh before the moment is interrupted by the first lift of your hips. from where he is, he can see how your folds stretch for his thick cock and the lewdness of your expression, until you start a pace and the little pants that leave your lips hypnotise gojo into a trance. he watches your dazed features with a smug smile as you bounce on him, ass meeting his pelvis in loud slapping noises.
“satoru— s’full, s’big—!” mewling out, your hands switch from abs to chest to headboard, finding anything to anchor yourself to as you ride his cock that nudges all the right spots. each descent is bound to send you reeling, drool dripping from the side of your mouth with how you seem to get more and more intoxicated on his length — even when your muscles start to ache in similar places like earlier and gojo seems to break from the little humps from his hips. 
“s’too much, h-hurts, ’toru . .” you whine with a pout to your voice, eyes lining with tears at the overwhelming pleasure, groping around desperately at the hand that indulges you briefly. it travels up your body, around your nape and back around, playing with your lips—
“you can do it, baby, ridin’ me so well . . s-shiiit,” gojo praises with a trembling rasp, toying with your bottom lip before grabbing your face and forcing you to look down, “you’re making me feel so, so good, sweetheart—” squeezing his eyes shut for a brief moment and then back again to compose himself, “—look at how well you take my cock.” the obscene words drags even more moans from you coupled with the sight of your pussy stuffed full of your boyfriend’s pretty dick, so filled to the brim with so much cum seeping from your cunt.
your wonderment is what prompts satoru to tug you forward into a sloppy kiss, leaning back even more as you yelp into his mouth and your beauty is just what sends gojo into a frenzy. the smugness is gone, the teasing nature is gone, just grasping at pockets of air to moan out together as gojo takes the reins and slams his hips into yours. the sheer force of it sends you jerking more into his embrace, sharing a loud, pornographic moan before a multitude of profanities fall from gojo’s mouth.
“you’re just too— fuuck! too perfect, princess,” satoru whimpers, arms wrapped tightly around your middle with pelvis thrusting up into you that if it wasn’t for gojo’s strong arms, your body would be flailing everywhere -— he nibbles at the skin near your shoulder, trying his best to see where the base of his cock meets your ass in noisy, wet pap! pap! pap!’s, “pussy moulded just ta fit my fat cock, yea?”
satoru’s skin heats up when he feels you nod, babbles of “yes”’s and his name jumbled up together in drunken incoherence as he continues to impale you on his shaft. your thighs start to squeeze around his, your own hips grinding down to meet his halfway as you feel your high approaching.
“a-ain’t ya a good girl, hm?” the praise just keeps coming, whispered into your ear with hot breath fanning it and sending you in a delirious state, but gojo’s rhythmic thrust slows down as he grinds his cock into you and you tense up at the feeling of his tip against your g-spot. you jaw falls open in a silent moan, body limping into his once he abuses tha spot repeatedly in deep, deep thrusts, punctuating it in between every word—
“good. fucking. girl,” your boyfriend sounds out into your ear, a grunt between hisses at the way you clench around him, the way your pussy seems to flutter, “you. thrust. like. thrust. that. thrust. huh? thrust.”
“y—yeah, like it, love it, satoru—” you’re too far gone with these deeper thrusts before he switches back and knows you’re about to cum the hardest with the way your toes curl and uncurl. just one sneaky hand to your clit is enough to send you into mantras of his name and confessions — “love it, love you, loveyou, loveyou, ’toru” — body jerking at the overstimulation.
“that’s it . .” gojo says shakily even after he continues to ram into you, “attagirl, thaat’s my good girl.” by now, you’re reduced to nothing but a fucktoy for your boyfriend who chases his own high, proven easy by the sensation of your tight walls and the slickness of your pussy, rutting like a dog before he shoots his semen deep into you. even gojo is speechless, hips jolting into your cum-filled pussy with the need to breed: seed nestled deep into you while his weeping tip spurts out the last bits of his cum.
but gojo doesn’t pull out just yet, flipping the two of you easily and grabbing his long forgotten phone by the nightstand. gently with a smile, he pats your cheek, wakening you from your orgasm-induced slip into unconsciousness.
“baby, gonna take a vid, you okay?” you mutter out a small yes, cute little whimpers escaping your mouth when gojo slowly pulls out. “wanna spread your pretty pussy for me?” your hands obey before you even know it once you hear the start of the camera, fingers soaked with your combined juices as you spread your folds and he watches, entranced at the way your cunt pushes out his cum — and the way it seeps out of you, good lord — alongside the cockdrunk smile on your face.
satoru points the phone at your cunt, and marvels with a grin, “looks like she’s begging for more of my cum, yeah?”
Tumblr media
3K notes · View notes
urfriendlywriter · 9 months
Text
friends to lovers heart fluttering moments:
(feel free to use<3 i miss being active :') TAG ME WHEN YALL WRITE PLSSS WOULD LOVE TO READD )
running into their arms after being away for too long !!!!
leaning into each other when laughing.
casually linking arms, holding-hands, sharing hugs that lasts a teensy tiny bit longer. AHHHHH
them watching you do ur own thing with so much admiration [I've one want in life-]
"why?" "because it's you." (like them doing smthng espeviallyyforu)
"I'll do anything, as long as it's with you." n they nonchalantly say it.??? ( MA SONGG OMG)
spending more time together than usual
having your parents tease you and ship you together > ~ <
teasing them and they actually blush???
getting physically close during the denial phase. IMAGINE KISSING AND FREAKING OUT SAYING, "friends... kiss. right?"
getting ur breath hitched whenever they're too close.
imagine lingering with ur mouth slightly parted while both of ur noses brush, eyes fluttering just wondering---where this is going.
^ AND WHEN THEY SAY, "fuck it. may i kiss u?" but their voice is so low, yearning so hard.
getting noticeably shy after going a lil too hard on the kissing--"it's ok, we're still friends, right?"
a third person NOTICING IT AND going, "oh SO yall are the type to kiss and nOT TELL?" "WhAT NO, WE DIDNT-" "YEAH WE DIDN'T."
^ but one if one of them is an idiot n they go, "HOW DID U NOTICE?" "ha, so i was correct. yall mfs-!!!"
and the realising phase of how much you like them
and not being able to wait until u see them. so u can confess, get it out and about.
or what if? they end up ur house at 4 am in pouring rain and say, "i know we're best friends, but i want to be more. Let me be yours forever please, and not just as friends this time." AAAAAAAH.
SCREAMING N FIGHTING KISSING IN THE RAIN, ITS 2 AM N UR LOVIN THEIR NAME SO IN LOVE BUT U ACT INSANEEE N THATS THE WAY U LOVE THEMMM
7K notes · View notes
leviathanspain · 7 months
Note
Hey could you write a Finnick odair / reader where snow forces them to pretend to date like he did with katniss and peeta? The whole convince him and get married as a distraction thing? Thanks :)
the pretender
Tumblr media
finnick odair x reader
synopsis: being reaped from the victor’s pool changed your life in more ways than you imagined
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
you were his favorite girl.
girl. you were a girl when you had been reaped, a girl when your feet stepped off the platform, more shocked that you didn’t immediately blow up into bits. a girl when you had committed your first kill. you remembered the sound of your knife slicing into human flesh for the first time. the ringing in your ears had become permanent after you had been too close to the explosion that had killed half of the tributes. an explosion that you had accidentally caused.
your rebellious spirit was fun at first, for the capital to laugh and delight in, until you stopped using the scripts that they had written for you, and tried to destroy the idea of the girl in their minds.
snow subdued you, tried to barter your family’s life with cooperation. unbeknownst to him, you hadn’t seen your family in years since they had abandoned you, for fighting against your father’s abuse.
“kill them. do whatever you want to them. just leave me alone.” your own words haunted you since the day snow had presented evidence of their murders. you didn’t dare flinch in his presence, holding a strong facade that you didn’t care, that they were beneath you.
as he left, irritated at your refusal to comply, letting ideas stir in his head with what to do with you, you broke down. tears shed as you realized that they were gone because of you, because you couldn’t let your anger go.
but snow liked you, he must’ve had a reason to keep you around for so long, and until just a few days ago, you hadn’t known why.
you breathed deeply as you heard your name called. it was deja vu, and suddenly you were back to the thirteen year old girl, who was so emaciated and starved that when her name was called, she believed she was hallucinating.
you looked crudely into the screen, not offering any smiles or sign of pride that you had been reaped, all over again.
“y/n l/n.” hearing your full name made you turn around immediately. you were slightly blinded by his blonde hair and pearly white smile.
“finnick odair.” you realized who the man was, quicker than you’d admit. the last time you had seen him was at a ridiculous capital party that snow had forced you to attend. finnick had been leaned against a wall, with two capital sluts hanging onto his shoulders, whispering in his ears simultaneously.
he smiled, not surprised that you didn’t say anything else besides his name. you had that tendency about you, to shoot down any attempt at conversation. even going as far to avoid it all together. “i’m glad you haven’t tried to run away, not after i had caught you eyes and you dashed off at that party. how long ago was that? three,” his speech hung onto the words, “four?”
“five months. it’s been five months, finnick.” you remembered his gaze, and remembered how your feet made you run at the sight. you had heard stories about finnick, and you weren’t exactly planning on ever talking to him.
“that’s right.” he smiled, “i hope you’ve been well since then. it was nice seeing you in something other than a bloody shirt.” his gaze suddenly seemed very far away, as if he was remembering exactly what you wore that night.
you shrugged, deciding to change topics, “everyone else is polishing their weapons,” you heard a guttural war cry, and saw another tribute lunge at a partner, “and methods.” finnick turned to the source of the cry and laughed slightly, “oh yeah? what’s your choice of weapon, again?”
“knives. anything long and sharp.” you always had an affinity for knives. it was second nature to you, an art of your district. your mind drifted away slightly to the array of knives that you had collected during your games. every tribute that you had slaughtered had a knife, and you collected them as a token. by the end, you had 23 knives, all representing a kill.
it had been upsetting when you went on your victory tour, to see the look on their family’s faces, but you had blurred out their emotions, and at the height of your submission to snow, had given out the same apathetic speech to every district.
finnick watched as your mind drifted back to reality. wherever you had gone for the better half of a minute, was a place finnick spent every waking moment, running away from.
he grabbed your shoulder, squeezing it slightly as he looked into your eyes, whispering your name, “hey, hey.” you focused on his eyes, gaze shifting to his mouth as they shaped the syllables of your name. you swallowed thickly, “im sorry-i…” you pulled away, his hand falling free of your shoulder. finnick watched as you exited the training room, your hands balled up into fists as you disappeared through the doorway.
“absolutely not.” you had spent your childhood under the thumb of one man, and you had barely made it out from under snow’s. this was only another way to get you under it once more.
finnick had his head bowed, having listened to snow’s pitch to make the two of you a couple. he needed something to distract the capital citizens from peeta and katniss, who everyone knew, was just a thorn in snow’s side.
“my dear, i really don’t think you have a choice in the matter.” snow’s eyes narrowed at you and you sighed, “what else is there left for you to do? im already being marched to my death, again, just speed the process up. poison me like you do the rest.” you took a good jab at one of the many secrets you had obtained, living in his cage.
snow laughed, “i would’ve done that a long time ago, y/n.”
just as you were beginning to argue again, finnick looked up, eyes catching yours. he held your gaze for a minute, blinking his wet eyes at you. there was something that was telling you that this wasn’t just about you.
finnick.
oh how could you forget finnick.
there was something clearly at stake for him too, otherwise why had he remained silent this entire time?
compliance was something he had to get used to, also under snow’s control.
“okay, fine.” you felt yourself swallow bile, “i’ll do it.” you looked at finnick, your future husband, and the reason why you were even agreeing.
“why did you do it?” his voice cracked, a raw noise as he looked over at you. you had been silent the whole time since leaving the meeting with snow. you shuddered with the strong winds, having been sat out on the stoop of the building, housing all the reaped former victors.
you looked at finnick, having caught his gaze, holding it for a moment, “my entire life i’ve been selfish, and i guess i realized that it isn’t always about putting myself first.” you knew the stories, heard the rumors. snow had barely played with the idea, making you like finnick, but you had always refused. there was nothing left for him to leverage, and so it never went anywhere.
but this, pairing the two of you was nothing short of cruel. finnick who has everything to lose, with you, who he probably didn’t expect to agree.
finnick hitched a breath, understanding what you weren’t saying. “thank you.” he breathed, “and im sorry.”
you stood up suddenly, nodding as you turned towards the entrance, “just-“ you cut yourself off, waving a hand as you continued inside.
he made the announcement. finnick had decided that with the pull he has on the capital, that he would be the one to do it. especially since he was so beloved, the attention from it was to challenge katniss and peeta’s.
you had agreed to play the part, and now you had to act like it.
there was loud cheering and applause from the crowd, and you were pushed out onto the stage, more cheers erupting as finnick stood up to meet you halfway. you kissed his cheek, grabbing his hand tightly as you two fluttered across the stage.
caesar flickerman was already standing there with a bright, capitol smile. “this is your lovely bride. we hear the honeymoon is the arena?” he looked at finnick who tipped his head back for a laugh, but didn’t answer outright.
you gave a soft laugh, “we just loved each other so much, we couldn’t wait.”
caesar looked at you, as if remembering who you were exactly, “wow.” he seemed truly amazed, perhaps even shocked.
finnick noticed the heaviness in the interview and turned his head at caesar, trying to keep the attention on the union rather than the individuals.
he grabbed your hand suddenly, clutching it tightly. as he held it for the rest of the interview, you staring at the faces in the crowd, more love struck than you, you wondered if he was trying to comfort you or himself.
“finnick.” you looked around behind you, only seeing peeta in front of you. the first few days in the arena had been a blur. you had stuck by close with finnick, who made it his mission to stay close to katniss. there was something he wasn’t telling you, but you didn’t once doubt him.
“finnick?” you whipped your head around and couldn’t find him. you were always in front of him, so he could remain in his eye line at all times. except you had failed to make sure he was in yours.
your ears started ringing as the panic set in. you scanned the trees and couldn’t find any sign of him or katniss, realizing this as peeta shared your same panicked look. your throat felt tight as you screamed his name, “finnick!” peeta suddenly took off, feet blazing towards more greenery. you had no choice but to follow, knowing finnick would’ve had you stick with peeta.
as you barely caught up to peeta, you saw him hit the floor as you ran up. whatever he had bounced off of was holding katniss and finnick back.
you looked at finnick, unable to catch his eyes as he looked up frantically. there was something you were missing, there were just bir-
“jabberjays.” peeta groaned out, “they can’t hear us, but they hear our screams.” he swallowed thickly, resting near the force field. katniss was knelt down at the edge, eyes tightly shut. you stared at finnick, at a loss for words. the panic in his face looked so real, you wondered who he was hearing.
you tore your eyes away, watching him suffer was not something you had signed up for. you felt defeated, unable to do anything as you and peeta sat like sitting ducks, waiting this torture out.
you hadn’t talked to him since the jabberjays. peeta had comforted katniss, in any way she’d let him. but they were different, you and finnick were different.
yes, you were married, he was your husband. but the issue was, you hadn’t much time to even begin to share intimate details, let alone have a good conversation. this was what snow wanted, an empty marriage to stir up all the attention.
except you knew your performance was failing. the audience could see right through you.
“hey.” finnick had snuck up on you. you had stayed a few feet away from him and the others, unsure how to handle it all. but it seems like finnick was trying to make it work. but it should be the other way around.
“finnick.” you breathed a sigh of relief unintentionally, hoping he didn’t catch on, you watched as he sat down on the sand beside you. he grabbed your hand, and for a moment you thought it to be genuine, until he raised an eyebrow.
right.
“i’m so sorry.” your voice hitched, and finnick steadied his gaze, “seeing you like that-“ you faked a choked sob, “i just couldn’t do it. i couldn’t look at you and see-“ you cut yourself off, throwing your head in your hands.
snow had to be happy that you were selling yourself off to protect finnick. but beside that heart to heart you had with him in the beginning, you had nothing else to go off of.
“i heard you.” finnick’s voice cracked, “you were screaming, these terrible, horrible screams.” he shook his head, as if he were hearing them all over again, making you realize that he was telling the truth. “and it wouldn’t stop.” he breathed. his breathing got harder and you found yourself kissing him to make him stop. finnick panted into the kiss, as if you had grounded him. you pulled back, catching his eye as you looked away.
your hand that he had been holding gripped his harder. you looked out into the water, watching as it’s dangerous waters moved, unsure on how you would survive this.
with or without him.
3K notes · View notes
talaok · 2 months
Note
a smutty joel imagine with him saying, “you’re in trouble doll”
Pairing: dbf!Joel Miller x f!reader
summary: Joel, your dad's best friend, has pissed you off once again for his constant fear of your father finding out about you, so you decide to make him jealous, only he doesn't take it as well as you expected... or maybe exactly as you had
warnings: jealousy, he grabs you by the neck at one point, possessive!Joel smut| a bit of thigh riding, unprotected p in v sex, creampie, she calls him daddy ONCE bc I need to cut back on the daddy kink it's becoming a problem, kind of exhibitionism, and unnecessary feelings cause i can never fucking write a story where they're just fucking for some reason
Tumblr media
You were flirting good
The way you only did when you weren't really interested, when it was just a game, when you were bored, or perhaps... in the mood for taunting someone
Maybe someone who was across the backyard, his hazel eyes burning a hole into the back of your head as he gripped his beer hard enough to shatter it, his head nodding slowly at whatever your dad was saying, but his thoughts only to you, only to that little asshole who had his hand on your cheek- on his girl
"I'd forgotten how funny you are" you said, after falling into a more than exaggerated laughing fit at one of Kaleb's miserable jokes.
He grinned with that smile guys have when they think they have it in the bag, when they’re already picturing you in their bed
As if
“Tell you what, I'm even funnier in front of a drink,” he said, his eyes glinting with victory “you free tonight?”
But before you could respond, a very much non-friendly voice barked from beside you
"she's not"
Joel looked even hotter than usual with that t-shirt clinging to his toned biceps and pecs, and the way he was looking at Kaleb... he looked ready to kill, and fuck if that didn't make him even hotter
"Tommy needs your help on the grill, I'm takin' a break" he nodded toward his brother, giving the guy a chance to scramble before he had to punch him in the face
"now?" Kaled wined, his gaze trailing to you, as if counting on the understanding of another man of what he was interrupting
"Now."
There was no room for negotiating, and the guy finally got it, sighing loudly before nodding
"Fine, I'll catch you later then," he smiled, watching you reciprocate, before he started for the grill
You squinted your eyes against the sun as you looked up at Joel, making a show of rolling your eyes as he gave you that stern, angry look he was always so good at giving
"Cockbloker"
You didn't wait for whatever smart retort he was gonna send your way as you turned around and started making your way into the house,
only of course, he was right behind you, closing the glass door to the kitchen with a loud thud
"you're in trouble doll"
again, you could only roll your eyes as you opened the fridge to look for what you didn't even know
The party of people just outside the windows was loud, but his steps as he stalked to you were the only thing you could hear
"I'm talking to you"
You could hear the restraint in his voice, almost feel it oozing off of him, the way you were getting under his skin, the way he was controlling his own rage
And when you only sighed, still not acknowledging his presence... then his self-control slipped, and his hand had forced the fridge to fly shut, the bottles rattling inside.
maybe this will get your attention
And it did, you turned to him, a bored, stoic look on your face
"what do you think you're doing?" he hissed, his jaw ticking 
"what?" you cocked a brow "I'm not allowed to talk to people anymore?"
The way he tilted his head, flames of anger lighting his eyes as he took a step towards you made you want to get down on your knees and suck him off right there and then... but then again, you were supposed to make him pay
"Don't give me that bullshit" he growled "That wasn't just talking, there's only one thing that guy was after and you know it"
You scoffed, taking a step closer to him in affront
"so?" you asked, raising your brows "What I was after the same thing Joel?" you argued "You know, since you're so scared of my dad finding out... since you're always saying I should find someone more age-appropriate, I figured... why not Kaleb?" 
Oh he was fuming
"At least he's not scared of my dad" you mocked "At least he wouldn't have to sneak out of my house after he's done fucking me-"
you didn't even see him move, the only thing you felt, was the back of your head hitting the fridge, and seconds after, his hand gripping your throat, and only then did you hear the gasp fleeing your throat
he had moved you to the other side of the fridge so that from outside, no one could see your dad's bestie choking his daughter without so much of a hair of second thought.
"If he even tries to come near you" his face was but an inch from yours "He won't have a dick to fuck you with sweetheart, got it?"
What did he think? That he was gonna scare you? please
You snorted, your mouth twitching in a smirk
"You don't own me Joel" you only purred "I can fuck who I want"
The snarl he let out was nothing but predatory
"You think that fucking guy's the right one for you?" he asked, his right leg in between yours, the top of his thigh dangerously close to your core 
"you think that little asshole's gonna make you come?" his breath was ghosting your mouth, but he ducked lower, murmuring against your ear now 
"You think Kaleb's gonna fuck you better than I do?"
Although shivers were running down your spine, you chuckled, as you murmured "Maybe"
He groaned, his thigh immediately going to your center, rubbing against your clit as his fingers tightened on your throat.
"say that again" he challenged, his voice rough and throaty
"what," you grinned, "you think you're some kind of sex god or something?"
The fact that he could hear all the little whimpers you were swallowing down your throat didn't help your case
"Have you forgotten already about all the times you were begging for my cock sweetheart?" he teased, his jeans damping with your slick as you parted your mouth in pleasure "All the nights you spent screaming my name, mh?" 
His warm words felt so good on your neck, and his leg... if he kept at it you might just fall apart like that
"you think another man can do that for you?" his eyes were boring into yours now, his hand forcing you to meet his gaze 
And when you didn't answer, the same smug grin on you, he understood what he needed to do
"You need a little reminder, 's that it?"
And just like that, you had exactly where you wanted him.
If he was aware that this was your plan all along, he didn't show it, probably because you had turned his brain into a jealous angry heap.
He watched the way you bit your bottom lip, the same way he's seen you do thousands of times before, need pooling in your iris and panties at the same time
"ah that's it, isn't it?" he growled, his right hand going to squeeze your ass "my dirty girl needs me to remind her who's the only man that can make her feel good huh?"
And fuck it, but you were already palming the bulge at the front of his pants
"whose cock she needs to be filled with" he smirked, watching your pretty eyes fall to his mouth
"then I guess I just have to, don't I?"
His lips were on yours faster than you could blink, his mouth ravenous and hungry as much as his tongue, which was exploring every inch of you as if he needed to have all of you, right there, right now.
You felt his hand leave your neck and seconds after your ear picked up his zipper getting undone and then he was picking you up and he was hastily freeing his cock from his boxers and-
It was all so fucking fast- he felt like a man possessed
For this much talk of you being the one to need a reminder, it looked like it was him the only one to need this
And maybe it was because seeing you talking to that guy made him see red, or maybe because it had been more than 24 hours since he had a taste of you and missed you more than anything, or maybe... maybe he was just starting to realize that it wasn't the 24 hours, and it wasn't Kaleb, but it was you, it had always been you, with that smart mouth and that smug attitude and your determination and kindness and beauty and fuck- this had never been just fuking- he could never just be having sex with you, he wanted to have you, all of you, not just like this, but in public, in front of everyone, in front of Kaleb and you pissed off dad- he wanted to- to bring you on a proper date and pay the bill and only then fuck you so good you forgot your name- he wanted, he wanted everything, he wanted you, completely.
"You know anyone could come in here at any moment right?" you asked breathlessly as you leaned away, your lips swollen already 
He had you propped against the part of the fridge facing the wall, so you were hidden from the outside, but anyone could have just taken a closer look, or come into the kitchen for a fresh beer and caught you just as he railed into you... and he couldn't have fucking cared less
"What, you scared?"
And the way you smiled- the way you smiled was enough to make a grown man drop to his knees in an instant
"fuck me, daddy"
God fucking damn him, but he might just be in love
"Jesus fucking Christ doll"
He didn't let you laugh at him before he had pounced into you with one hard and deep thrust, his mouth crushing into yours simultaneously to drown out that clamorous moan he already knew was coming from your throat
He didn't let you get used to him, he only started fucking up into you like he needed to split you in half, like he needed to get deeper into you that he'd ever been.
He was grunting with each push, and you could faintly hear the fridge beside you move in tandem with his movements, but you couldn't have cared less about worrying whether or not it could be seen from outside.
he hit a particularly deep spot inside of you and just as you were about to cry out like a mad woman, his hand was on your mouth, shutting you up for good
"you let another guy touch this fucking pussy and they're dead" his eyes were just as brutal as his thrusts, although a veil of harrowing honesty lay beneath them
He was being serious, he needed you to know that
 "got it?" he asked, your mind only half listening as your walls tightened around him "It's fucking mine" he purred, the hand he had on your waist tight enough to bruise "You're fucking mine," he said, "all of you" 
You swore you felt pain underneath the anger in his voice
"I don't care what you say, I'm the only one that can make you come, 'm the only one who can touch you or fuck you or- or fucking take you out to dinner- got it?"
If it were any other moment you would have teased him, but this... there was something too precious- too honest about this
"yes" you whimpered into his palm, 
And that sent him straight to fucking heaven, he couldn't help but relieve your lips of his hand and kiss you again, kiss you with every inch of life he had in him
"You're mine" he breathed, both of you breathing so heavily you were nearly hyperventilating
"I'm yours Joel" you promised, your core wisting and tuning as he drilled you closer and closer to the edge "I'm yours" you repeated, watching what it did to him, the relief plastered onto his face, the want only multiplying in his pace "only yours- all of me-"
"that's right" he breathed, his skin slapping with yours "My pussy, my body, my girl" he purred "You're mine, doll"
And just like that, he had pushed you over the edge, watching you fall apart closely before he couldn't help but follow suit, kissing you as he silenced both your moans, bottling them up inside of him, so he could never forget them, forget this.
You opened your eyes to find his already on you, so many unspoken words, feelings, hopes in them, and you couldn't help but smile, dropping your forehead to his as he settled you back onto the ground
"That was- wow" you sighed, still grinning like a kid "I should make you jealous more often"
"Please don't" he begged, his fingers drawing circles on your waist as you kissed him again, smiling softly onto his lips
You needed to talk, about what happened, about what this was, about everything... but as you both leaned away, a mutual understanding passed through you
Later
"You should get back out there" you murmured, although halfheartedly.
the prospect of moving away from his embrace felt like hell right now
"what about you?" he asked, his nose nuzzling against yours
"I gotta clean myself up" 
"I could help" 
You rolled your eyes playfully as a small laugh flowed through you
"Joel" you said, still smiling "go"
And so even if his whole mind, body, and soul were fighting against it, he did, kissing you one last time before he leaned away, fixed himself up, and looked at you one more time, before walking out of the kitchen and into the backyard
And as if on cue that fucking asshole had to come in and ruin his fucking vibe
"Hey, where's y/n? I've been looking for her" Kaleb asked, walking up to him.
Joel didn't even try to be nice, he didn't even bother with that "count to ten before answering" bullshit Sarah was always telling him about
"She's not interested, and if I see you even just looking her way ever again, I am going to kill you Kaleb, understand?"
To say the guy was taken aback was the understatement of the century
His eyes widened so much he didn't even look like himself
"w-what the fuck?" he spat "Where is she, I need to t-"
"she's in the bathroom" Joel cut him off, pure rage and annoyance in his voice, in his stare "cleaning my come off of herself"
Kaleb stumbled back, literally now
"w-wha-"
"I told you buddy" Joel said simply "she's not interested"
2K notes · View notes
ookaookaooka · 1 year
Text
I’m hardly the first person to compare them but Terry Pratchett and J K Rowling really are polar opposites in terms of the way their writing treats weird characters. In Rowling’s writing, any weirdness is there to be laughed at (for example: Professor Trelawney, the fake seer who doesn’t know she’s an actual seer). In Pratchett’s writing, though, the characters’ weirdness is taken 100% seriously and the humor arises organically from the situation itself and is never at the characters’ expense (for example: in Making Money, the man who was born a clown and was never told so until he was 13 years old). In Rowling’s writing, the main characters poke constant fun at Professor Trelawney, making joke predictions and fudging homework and talking about how divination isn’t a legitimate field of study. Even after she gets fired and more or less drops the act, the joke changes to “look at this sad drunk lady” and the main characters express little sympathy. The narrative is saying she’s there to make one real prediction and otherwise she’s only there for comic relief. This sort of thing happens over and over in Rowling’s writing, where any quirkiness is there to be laughed at and the misfortunes of characters we’re not supposed to like are supposed to be funny, and it sends a message of conformity under threat of ridicule. In Pratchett’s writing, the clown man’s story is treated as a great tragedy: imagine growing up not knowing why you are the way you are, and then finding out the truth as a teenager! And knowing that your own mother kept the truth from you! This man was so deeply traumatized by this he denied himself any humor or fun for decades, and when he has a crisis and runs off to become a clown again, he is given support and medical treatment and is welcomed back to his job at the bank and accepted for who he is. The fact that this whole situation is hilarious is secondary. And again, this sort of thing happens over and over again in Pratchett’s writing, where characters’ quirkiness is embraced and often seen as irreplaceable by the end of the book, and it sends a message that our quirks are valuable and weirdness should be acceptable. It just strikes me as a much… kinder approach to people, you know?
13K notes · View notes