#it just feels like he's constantly mad and disappointed with me | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

amara-scott · 5 months

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Imagine Mattheo and Theodore fighting over you constantly.

P.1

Reader x Mattheo Riddle / Reader x Theodore Nott

"The picknick was a good idea, I have to admit." I say, dropping another grape into my mouth, a full mouth turned into a smile. I sneak another one out of the basket Theo is carrying.

I glance over at Theo and he nods, grinning. He winks. "I know, Carina. I always have the best ideas, you should know that by now." I roll my eyes in amusement at his cocky statement.

As if on cue, I see a brown mop of curls rounding the corner, making me sigh. Great. Just great.

"Hey, what a surprise." Mattheo says, not seeming too happy as his eyes land on Theodore beside me. Mattheo shuffles something inside his jacket, flashing white, which I only catch a glimpse of. But I can't even question what it was before these two begin staring each other down.

An undeniably painful pause is the only thing holding me back from just turning around to run away. It's scaring me to even move a muscle. If these two don't sort out whatever is bugging them, I won't hesitate and avoid them both. I really did try to help them befriend each other once more. Their inner rivalry didn't get unnoticed by the rest of our friend group either. What has gotten into them these past few weeks?

"(Y/N), let's get going." Theo's free hand wraps around my wrist, not even glancing at me once while talking. He turns and tries to pull me with him, but not before Mattheo steps up, pushing Theo.

I stumble with him, still being in the grasp of Theo's strong hand. He let go and I take a step back.

"Excuse me?!" I get out before straightening up, rearranging my cloak. My glare hits Mattheo, but he is fixed on the boy in front of him as they now nearly graze noses. If I didn't know these two, I'd say one of them would be a Gryffindor. That would make sense at least. This is worse than Draco and Harry.

"Where do you think you're taking her, huh?" He grits out, and I can't say a word, too stunned I am being dragged into this ongoing fight now.

"Stop it, both of you!" I yell, but neither of them are backing down, making it really hard not to just ask a Professor to break them off. I glance around, only a few students hushing past, not daring to spare a look.

"We are going somewhere that is none of your concern, Riddle."

"Yeah? I don't think so, Nott."

"Why don't you fuck off and shag one of your whores, mind your own damn business!"

I had never seen either of them so worked up, which certainly was scary to look at. I try once more, "boys, come on, this is ridiculous." I gulp as they still don't look at me. My heart starts racing, and I try to find a way out that won't result in broken noses or wands at each other throats. What is going on with these two?!

"Come on, (Y/N)." Theo says again, making me debate what I should do. Pick a side? I don't want to be the reason one is more mad or disappointed by what I do.

"No." I mumble, feeling my eyes sting as I blink. I gulp once more, Theo's eyes finding my form a few feet behind Mattheo. His face relaxes as he looks at me.

"See? She doesn't want you, Nott." I can only make out the corner of Mattheo's lips as they curl up into a grin. Which doesn't help my situation.

"I'm not picking a side here, Matt, you are both acting extremely childish over – over, who knows what!" I turn and storm off, ignoring Matt and Theo yelling my name.

These idiots took it too far now. I won't speak a word – won't spare them another glance. Ugh, boys!

___

"-and he pushed Theo! Like a little kid! What is going on with these two?" I sat across from Pansy, piercing my fork into my piece of chocolate cake over and over again until it went mushy and the appetite left me. I sigh, my fork dropping onto the table, and I bury my face into my hands.

"You know them. They will get over it. Theo probably stole Matt's last fudge fly. They're boys, just like you said." She mumbles and keeps chewing on her dessert, eyes scanning the next page of her Witch Weekly magazine.

"I hope you're right." I mutter under my breath.

"Hey you two-" Draco joins us at the table, sitting down next to Pansy, Enzo settles beside me, I send him a brief smile.

"What's pestering you, (Y/N)? Or should I ask – who's pestering you?" He snickers and earns a stare from Pansy, making him shut up.

"Wait – do you know something, Draco?" I ask him and squint my eyes at him. He obviously does, as he stutters for a word, shaking his head. His cheeks slightly pink.

"Enzo, what is going on? Where are the others?" I turn to him, he sighs but shakes his head, sending me a small and sorry smile.

"I promised not to tell anyone. Especially not you, love." I grow irritated with the lot and push myself up, sending another glare at Draco, he would be easier to break. I take out my wand, holding it by my side and start boring holes into his head. He tries to avoid my deathly stare. But then he makes the mistake of connecting his eyes with mine.

"If you won't tell me right now where they are, I will personally make sure to have you grow a second nose every day, for the rest of the year – you will smell things you wish you didn't –"

"– come on, (Y/N), we promised –"

"– In the library, in the far back corner on the second level –" Draco squeaks, making Enzo glare at him in shock.

"We promised, Draco!"

"I don't care, I know she'll do it. I don't want a nose on my bum one morning! She knows how to get into our dorm." Draco snarls and glares at the table as I hurry off. Pansy only smirking and eating her second dessert in peace.

"Go get them!" She calls out without looking up and I wave her off, pushing past a few people on my way. My heart is racing and I don't know if I want to even meet these idiots. I promised myself to ignore them. Well that didn't take long for me to break.

I round the corner and walk into the library. My racing thoughts made this quiet place unbearable as I heard every damn thought of mine. But just as I take the last couple steps on the stairwell, I am met with hushed shouting.

"– how about you're both idiots? I really am hungry and if you two make me miss dinner, you won't sleep another night –" I hear Blaise taunting. I glance between a few books on the shelf, making out three heads. There they are. Blaise sits by the window, I could see his face clear as day. Theo sat sideways, eyes turned to the table in between them both. Mattheo on the other hand stands, pacing back and forth. He stops, just as my breath.

"Theo simply has to admit that he went behind my back. He took away the only thing that really mattered –"

"The only thing that mattered? The only thing that mattered to you was to simply get laid! Like always – just pick a different girl!" Theo stands up too now, Mattheo stepping up to his figure.

Blaise suddenly steps between them, hands on either chest and looks back and forth. "Hey, boys, you truly think we haven't had these lines already tonight? You're both ridiculous."

So this is about a girl? Is this about –

"Well, (Y/N) would never pick someone like you."

Shit.

"Like me? You're one to talk, Nott – stealing her from me, right after I told you I liked her. I trusted you, you are supposed to be my fucking best mate!" Their hushed voices are not so hushed anymore and I glance down to Miss Pince's desk. She narrows her eyes, scanning the upper level.

Blaise is struggling to hold Mattheo back now, Theo's lips curling into a smirk. I lean closer, my eyes still wide. How do they both like – me? Is this a stupid prank?

WHACK!

I was obviously leaning onto the shelf a bit too much as a book fell to the ground. Their heads turn to me and I could now clearly see all of them through the opening. I give them a weak smile and wave. "Hey –"

"(Y/N)?" Theo asks, stepping forward, around the shelf. I meet him half way, Mattheo’s eyes as hard as stone. My mouth feels dry while I try to think of what to say. I shrug and try to smile. My eyes land on Blaise who seems relieved, sighing as he walks up to me and wraps an arm around my shoulder, glancing between Theo and Matt.

“Maybe you’re the best to talk to them right now.” He pats my shoulder and turns to leave, I turn my head, wanting to tell him to stay, my heart racing. Blaise stops, glancing back at me. “Good luck.” He smirks and skips down the staircase. I really don’t want to turn back around so I take my time, gulping as I focus on both their shoe pairs instead of any eyes. Theo steps up slowly. “Carina, what did you hear?” My eyes shoot up at his question and Matt huffs, falling back into a cushioned arm chair.

“Obviously she heard it all. Otherwise she would be smacking our heads by now.” He mumbles at the end, his head held high as he’s glaring down at his knees, his hands squeezing the soft armrests. His sharp jaw clenching every now and then.

“I- I really-“ I take a deep breath shaking my head. “- don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything.” Theo sends me a small encouraging smile. Matt’s head rolls back as he groans out.

“Oh please, stop that stupid emphasizing scheme!” Matt stands back up and joins us, glaring at Theo in disgust. Theo just rolls his eyes, turning to him.

“Just because you’re cold-hearted and only care about yourself doesn’t mean everyone has to-“

“-oh I only care about myself? You’re one to talk, fucking backstabber-“

“-Me? You are-“

“Hey!” I yell out, them both turning to me as they are once again almost choking each other. I ignore a few shushes thrown our way. Mattheo’s eyes soften as I look directly at him. His lips part and in his eyes I see that he’s struggling to hold back from saying what’s on his mind. “Matt-“ I get out, holding back my own emotional rollercoaster.

“I- I can’t-“ He stammers, rushing past me and running down the stairs, leaving. I walk up to the railing, my hands closing around the cold wood while I am looking after him.

“It’s true, isn’t it?” My head snaps around, Theo’s sad eyes glossy. He looks down, stepping closer and stops a foot from me. His eyes wandering back up, like he’s taking one last good look at me. Taking me in.

“It’s always been him.” He continues.

———

For part two choose your ending:

Mattheo (coming soon)

Theodore (coming soon)

#imagine #imagines #harry potter #harry potter imagine #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo riddle x reader #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott #theodore nott imagine #slytherin #slytherin boys

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cheesecakeluvrs · 2 months

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It frustrates me how many people misunderstand my girl

While I’ve definitely seen it more on TikTok and not so much Tumblr it is still quite prominent. All of the “Gambit girls 😜🤞” (Gambit is literally my favorite character but just those new fans who like him because of the crop top) are coming out and saying that Rogue is to be blamed for Gambits feelings being hurt but what they don’t realize is how much both of them were hurting. We see Gambits pretty clearly but guessss Rogues we’re a little harder to catch even though I think it’s pretty obvious

What I feel like a lot of people don’t realize is how much suffering she was going through because of her feelings for Gambit. He would tease her and flirt with her yet for her it was just a constant reminder that she can’t touch him. His whole existence is just a constant reminder of what she can’t do. She thinks that because she can’t touch him she could never make either of them fully happy in a relationship

Plus that makes perfect sense because the closest romantic relationship she has to her are Jean and Scott who constantly love and kiss each other. We see her multiple times in the original just stare at them as they touch, just another reminder of what she can’t have

On top of that her literal first experience with her powers was with a person she had feelings for. She has been obsessing over the ability to touch since she was thirteen years old. People get mad at her for not realizing that she valued her feelings over the ability to touch sooner but that is literally everything she can think about. To her a happy relationship ‘needs’ intimacy so she thought that the only way she could be in a happy relationship was with Erik

That’s why the dance is so important because she finally got that intimacy she has been looking for. She put off the fact that she didn’t have feelings for Erik and thought that she would be alright plus if it means helping Genosha

I mean she’s just weighing out feelings and intimacy and since she’s been idolizing the ability to touch since she has been thirteen years old that’s obviously what she’s going to choose. Then of course she was faced with grave disappointment when that thing she has been searching for her whole life wasn’t enough

I know a lot of the Gambit and Rogue shippers felt relief because she realized she valued feelings over touch but I just can’t get over the amount of disappointment she probably felt in that moment. She finally got what she had been searching for, what she thought would be enough for any relationship, but she still wasn’t happy because she didn’t have feelings for him

I would also like to mention her relationship with Erik before because that is probably the biggest comparison to her of all. She had both feelings (no matter how healthy or unhealthy they were) and intimacy with him so in her head if he didn’t have those struggles that would be the perfect relationship. It’s also likeee the only happy relationship she had had intimacy but that was also only because she thought that a relationship needed intimacy… if that makes sense

Anywaysss I know I kinda rambled off but it’s important to understand how much she has been idolizing the ability to touch someone and how complicated her feelings were after the dance because she realized that intimacy is not even good if it’s with someone you don’t love

#rogue #anna marie lebeau #rogue x gambit #gambit x rogue #erik lehnsherr #rogue xmen #xmen #x men 97 #x men #x men the animated series

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finniestoncrane · 4 months

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Date, Digger Style

KTJL!Boomer x Fem!Reader, word count: 6k hi i am sorry, this was supposed to be like. a lil silly thing about what a first date with george might be like. and it ended up being 6k words. i just want him so bad it makes me look stupid quite honestly and i am ok with that 💙 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: sleazy behaviour, groping, tongue kissing, just the tip and then not just the tip but agreeably so, lots of physical affection, reader has tits and a vagina, reader is referred to with feminine pet names, descriptions of a gross kitchen, also let's pretend that he's always a lil bit drunk so his drunk driving seems like the normal state of things. he's a villain. he's allowed to break laws lmao (and it's fiction, so i'm allowed to decide what alcohol does to him)

Sitting on the edge of your sofa, you took a quick look at your phone to check the time and to see if you had missed any messages. Nothing. Not even a quick courtesy text with "on my way" typed hastily, or auto filled. You'd been sitting there for twenty minutes already, with no sign of George. If this was what he considered a good start to your first formal 'date' then you two were perhaps too different after all to make this work. He was laid back, to a flaw. Horizontal. And you were more organised, at least more so than George Harkness.

Just as you began typing out a message, you heard the tell-tale screech of the tyres on his van, followed by the rumbling of the engine as he put the brakes on and came out of the creaking door. The sharp buzz at your door was enough for you to know your suspicions were right, and without answering it, you headed downstairs. At the door, you could see Digger, picking at his teeth and tucking the stray strands of hair back under the rim of his hat before he noticed you and struck a pose, goofy smile plastered onto his face.

He moved to grab you when you met him on the steps leading up to your building, but you dodged him, spitting his nickname at him.

"Digger."

"Aw, are you mad cos I'm late? You're not some bloody princess, I think you can wait five minutes!"

"Twenty minutes."

"Twenty, the- Twenty!?"

His eyes were wide as he looked to you, and you offered a solemn and unimpressed nod in response.

"Fuck... alright, that is a bit much. This'll be worth it though, I promise."

Raising an eyebrow, you silently questioned that. You'd known him for a while now, skirted around the conversation, flirted constantly, but turned him down at every offer of a date. And now, when you had finally agreed and given in to his constant pestering, he was going to show up late and not even dressed differently or in clean clothes? You weren't sure it would be worth it. But, if all else failed, you could always count on him to make you laugh, or at very least conjure up a smile. And despite wanting to still maintain an exterior of disappointment, you could feel the corners of your mouth lifting as he opened up the passenger door and gestured to it with his arm, bowing low.

"M'lady, your carriage awaits."

As you stepped up and into the front of the van, the smell was the first thing that hit you. Stale beer, sweat, and about five other scents just indistinct enough to elude your keen nose. Trying not to think about it, you turned to grab your seatbelt and noticed, out of the corner of your eye, that the back of the truck was filled with empty beer cans and bottles, piles of clothing, some dirty and some clean. And in the middle of it all, a mattress, some pillows, and a scattering of sheets.

"Do you live in here?"

"Don't worry about it, babe."

Before you could ask him any follow up questions, he pulled away from the kerb with a stuttering acceleration, and carelessly pulled into traffic. After a few minutes of teeth grinding, life-threatening driving at high speed, he pulled off the main roads and began taking back streets.

Granted, you didn't know where you were going yet, since Digger was insistent on keeping it as a surprise, you still assumed that after ten minutes of nothing but roads dotted with potholes and routes plagued by speedbumps that it was surely quicker to have stayed on the main route until you were closer. However, it became clear that there were intentions behind this path after all, when you turned to question George about the route and found him quickly glancing from the road to your chest, smiling wider every time a bump jostled your body, causing your breasts to jiggle. With a heavy sigh, you turned to look out of the window, concealing the smile that threatened to give away your façade. There was no way you could let him know how oddly flattering you found his constant gawking, that would be a nightmare.

When the van stopped at a red light, you spoke, still looking out of the window, to try and get Digger to tell you where you were going.

"I just would feel better knowing how long we've got left to drive is all."

He reached over to you, placing his hand on your thigh and pressing his fingers and thumb together, squeezing the ample flesh.

"Listen, don't worry about it, we're almost there."

His palm pressed down and skimmed further up your leg, and as you turned to catch his eye, hoping to at least shame him into not continuing his bold heavy petting, you were instead met with his lopsided, careless grin. With one hand on the steering wheel and one permanently on your thigh, he continued driving for another ten minutes, until you were well on the outskirts of the city. When the van finally stopped, you could still hear the tinny rumbling and sharp clinking of the empty bottles and cans bashing around in the back, feeling like it had shrilly inserted itself permanently into your head. But once you had stepped out of the van and the fresh air, plus the odd stench, hit you, you could hear yourself think clear enough to know that you were definitely beginning to regret this decision once more.

"Told ya we wouldn't be much longer! We're here!"

"Where is here?"

"About twenty minutes outside Gotham."

"Digger."

He slapped his hand on your back and pulled you into a side hug, dragging you along as he walked towards the door of the flat roof building with broken neon lights that stood in front of you.

"Ah, come on babe! Get a sense of humour, or you'll always look fuckin' miserable!"

You weren't sure if he could hear your sighing over the sound of the gravel as you made your way to the front door, and he definitely couldn't hear the louder second one you let out when you got inside. The one that was cut short when you realised you could taste the smell that lingered on the air.

Taking your hand, an oddly gentle move from Digger. The moment was gone quickly when he smacked your ass as he ushered you into the dingiest looking booth at the back of the bar.

"George, really? Here?"

"Yeah, babe! This place is great. Cheap beer, good food. I promise, you just gotta trust me, alright?"

Taking a quick look around the place told you otherwise. But there was just something about him you found hard to say no to. Which you imagined would land you in much bigger problems later on, but for now, potential food poisoning and a hangover of the worst order seemed like a fair risk for what would no doubt be a fun night regardless. It always was with George.

"Aw, I know that face! You're on board! Right, I'm gonna go to the bar and get us some drinks and food."

"I don't know what I want though, I haven't looked at the menu."

"Don't have to, I'm getting us the usual. You'll like it, tr-"

"Trust you, yes, I know."

With a wink, he slid out of the booth and you watched him make his way to the bar, leaning on it with his oh-so-cocky attitude as he ordered for you. And when he sat back down, he slid a pint in front of you and began chugging at his own. Looking over the tip of your glass as you sipped, you tried to get a glimpse at the kitchen. From what you could see, it looked like the kind of place that might give any decent health inspector an aneurysm. The chef's clothes were dirty, the walls were a stained yellow colour that seemed as though it was dripping down the walls, and every surface had a strange assortment of crumbs and stains on it. But still, you persevered.

And still, when the plates were slammed down on the table in front of you by the uninterested waitress, you were optimistic. Because you were determined to have a nice time. It was likely that which annoyed you the most of all, because the moment you bit into the greasy sandwich you didn't care in the slightest what kind of health hazard it was prepared in. You just wanted more.

"See, told you it was good."

Nodding in agreement, mouth too full to speak, you swallowed down the rest of the sandwich, although by the time you had finished it and your accompanying beer, Digger was already onto his third pint, and the sandwich was but a memory. Until he burped and you could smell it on his breath, something he found hilarious.

"Lighten up! You try, give it your best shot."

"I'm not having a burping contest with you, George. We're on a date."

"Yeah, but you're on a date with Digger. Way more fun, far less stuffy. Go on."

You mustered up the best you had to offer, cheese and beer and lettuce the most noted flavours in the air you expelled. Closing his eyes for a moment, Digger reached out across the table and took your hands.

"That was, without a doubt... the most pathetic fuckin' burp ever. We gotta get you another drink!"

Before you could say anything, he was already shuffling out of the booth and shakily making his way back to the bar. A bad decision being made and you couldn't really stop him. He could handle his alcohol, definitely, you'd seen him do it a number of times before. Digger could put away what might kill a lesser, for want of a better word, man. But it didn't make him any easier to be around. You'd already found yourself flushing hot, cheeks darkening, a heat building in your stomach with each lingering touch or flirtatious stare. So far this evening, you'd almost kissed him twice. It wasn't going to be any easier to prolong what you felt was the inevitable if he got far too drunk and became his usual, handsy self.

Of course, that's exactly what did happen. One more pint in and Digger was all over you in the booth. He'd leaned in at first to say something to you, speaking over the noise of the bar, close to your ear, his arm reaching up and around you and pulling you close and then keeping you there. As his fingers stroked at your shoulder, the other hand fell to your thigh, periodically squeezing it between his fingers and thumb. And every time you got distracted by how far up your thigh he was snaking his palm, fingers splayed out, pinkie grazing over your crotch, his other hand would pull your attention away as his fingertips skimmed over the top of your breasts.

It was difficult to try and hold him off. You were both tipsy, or at least you were tipsy, Digger seemed to be wasted. No good decision could come from that. But the way he touched you, the way he smelled as he leaned in, sweat, cheap body spray, acrid beer, it was intoxicating. If you'd been any less sober you might have leaned in then and there in the booth to kiss him, tasting the alcohol on his tongue, letting him put his hands all over you, anywhere, anywhere. But luckily, before you could make what you knew was a mistake, he sat back and laughed, one loud and sharp 'ha'.

"I fuckin' love this song, babe! C'mon!"

Before you could argue otherwise, you were being dragged out of the booth to join Digger on the tiny dance floor in front of the band. The song was difficult to dance to, at least you had assumed, given the heavy rock riffs that underlined the inaudible, high volume lyrics. But George wasn't deterred. It was almost endearing, how horrendously embarrassing he was, standing there with his air guitar, throwing goat horns at the band as he bounced on the spot. Cute, nearly. But mercifully cut short as the song ended.

"Aw, just as I was finding my groove."

You smiled at him, rubbing his shoulder in sympathy, biting your inner cheek as you felt how strong he was, impressed by his muscular arm as you let your hand slip down to graze over it.

"A real shame, George. Let's go back to- "

The band started up again, this time, a slower song, one that lent itself well to the kind of 'end of prom' vibes all young lovers were hoping for. And before you could finish your suggestion of heading back to the booth, Digger had pulled you close, his arms around your back, falling to your waist as he swayed back and forth. It could have been dancing, it could have been the uncoordinated shuffling of a man who had one too many beers, but either way, you leaned into it, allowing your head to rest against his chest while you placed your hands, linked together, at the nape of his neck.

It was almost too romantic, in its own, strange way. The dim lights, the other couples around you, the unique twang on the guitars, the stench of the greasy food, and the way George kept his hips, his crotch, pressed tight to you as you leaned against him. Not particularly from a storybook romance, but perfect all the same. You'd known this would happen. One date, and you were already falling for him. Not because of anything he'd done, but because deep down you knew you had been into him, since almost the moment you'd met. But you'd fought it, because men like George Harkness, you assumed, weren't the kind of nice boy you dated.

But here he was, holding you, swaying you, sighing softly as the music swelled. Granted the movements weren't exactly graceful, but they were surprisingly fluid, as though he might be good at dancing when he was sober. Yet another surprise for you to learn about, but obviously not right now. He was trying though, his hands at a respectable height, his head leaning on your shoulder. Every so often, he nuzzled into your cheek, placing a soft kiss to it when the notion took him. And when the song finished, you could hear his words clear, spoken gently into your ear.

"You wanna head out?"

You weren't sure if that was "out" as in "get some fresh air" or "out" as in "let's head home, yours or mine" but either option seemed good. The last remaining bit of sun and a soothing breeze might be enough to sober George up before you brought him back in for more dancing. And if it didn't, you were happy to take him to your place for a coffee, nothing more. Although, you were potentially considering letting him sleep on the sofa. You couldn't imagine how difficult it would be to nurse a hangover in the back of his van.

Outside, finally able to breathe without choking on the stench or the thickness of the air, you watched as Digger shielded his eyes from the sky. His stumbling stopped, and he began walking with his usual confidence, almost sobering up immediately in the light of the day.

"Christ! Still pretty bright out here..."

"Yeah, it's not that late. You tapping out early, George?"

"Nah, nah. Not at all! If I've got you for the night, then I'm havin' you for the night. C'mon, I know a place."

Admittedly, and strangely enough, you really hadn't had enough of him yet. It was one of the few things you agreed on, actually. This was supposed to be a date, you'd set aside the evening for it, so you were keen to make it last as long as possible. You couldn't let George know that, though. Keeping the upperhand seemed to be key with him, so you offered him a reluctant smile and rolled your eyes dramatically.

"Well, I suppose so."

Stepping up into the passenger seat of his van you caught him smiling back at you, knowingly. You weren't kidding him, he wasn't as stupid as he seemed at first pass, but he was kind enough to let you keep up the ruse. It didn't stop him getting a little dig in at you, however.

"Are you sure? If you're not keen I can take you home, babe. Wouldn't want you to be bored or something."

"And where are you planning on taking me that isn't boring, then?"

"Eh... just a little spot I know of. Quiet, secluded. Up that back road to the overlook. But again, if you're not into it..."

"No, no. It sounds... well, it doesn't sound boring, anyway."

Digger laughed, starting up the van which groaned horrendously before sputtering to life. Before he drove off, he turned to you and winked.

"Definitely won't be, it never is with me, babe."

Pulling out of the parking lot, he turned away from the city and onto the quieter roads which led out past the city lines and into the expansive countryside that secluded Gotham from the rest of the world. From the window, you watched the sun slowly setting, clouds turning purple and navy as they pushed in from the sides like curtains on a stage show. You had all the time in the world to gaze peacefully, as George was driving in complete silence, way below the speed limit, focusing intensely on the road. He'd seemed to sober up once you were out of the bar, but you didn't want to distract him while he was doing his best to keep you both alive.

The van bounced along a short dirt trail until it stopped in a small clearing, surrounded by trees on all sides and far above the dim, intrusive glow of the city, which buzzed against the now deep, navy sky. Shutting off the engine, George turned and shot you a smile, eyebrows raised playfully, before he leapt out. He walked quickly to the back of the van and you followed, waiting patiently as he opened the two back doors wide, finally giving you a better look at what had been rolling around there the whole time he had been driving.

There wasn't much you could think to say, being of the opinion that you should only speak if you had kind things to say. From where you were standing, you could definitely tell that you had been correct in your earlier assumptions. This was where he lived. His rolling apartment. Convenient, yes. But it was a long way away from being one of the trendy 'tiny homes' you'd seen. The walls were adorned with four posters in total, all of them the kind of cheap standards you would expect in the bargain bin of some ancient music store, miscellaneous women in very little clothing gazing out as seductively as they could from the airbrushed backdrops. On the floor, there was a stick and poke tattoo kit that looked like it might be the source of several new variants of hepatitis, and it was littered with empty beer bottles and cans, some of which may have been half-full at the point he decided to drive off given how sticky the surfaces looked. And to top it off, there was a worn out mattress. No sheets on it, no sheets around it save for one scruffy blanket. It was covered in stains that you couldn't quite place, which matched the single, dented and almost flat pillow that lay haphazardly to the side.

"You live like this?"

That was what you had wanted to say, but again, your polite nature stopped you.

"Handy to just get in the van and sleep, or get out of bed and go."

George smiled, looking oddly proud of himself.

"See, you get it. You won't believe the amount of people who have been put off by- uh... well..."

He looked to the ground, rubbing at the back of his neck with his hand.

"Not that there's been that many people I've invited into- A-and not that there haven't been any people that have been-"

"George."

You placed a hand on his shoulder and raised your eyebrows, offering him a sympathetic grin. He took the out, thankful that you'd put an end to his suffering, and reached in for the blanket, placing it flat over the top of the bed before offering his hand to you. Taking it, he helped you shift yourself into the back of the van, watching as you got comfortable on the mattress as best as you could, at which point he joined you.

Leaning back on his arms, he looked to the sky, sitting in silence for a few minutes. You had joined him, watching the stars start to sparkle as they became visible against the darkening backdrop. At some point, you realised that he was staring at you, and you wondered how long you'd had his gaze trained on the side of your head. Not on any other part of your body, you noted. He was looking at your face, gazing at your eyes. When you turned, you caught his stare immediately, smiling softly when he blinked and looked away with a cough meant to clear the air of the awkwardness he was bringing about.

Rooting around behind him, he eventually found two unopened beer cans, both of which were loose amongst the rest of his belongings. Keeping one for himself, he passed the other to you. He raised his, tipping his head with a 'cheers' and then cracked it open. You watched the way his Adam's apple bobbed as he gulped, a small trickle of foam slipping past his lips and down his chin. The urge to lean in and lick it off was disturbing, most of all because you felt yourself moving towards him before you even realised it. Settling back down into the strange romance of the moment, you pulled the tab on your own can.

The immediate explosion, the build up of pressure and gasses from the can being jostled around as you drove up the bumpy, dirt track to the spot you now sat in, left you in shock. Your shirt was soaked, completely, and the cool air was already beginning to chill your body. You blinked in shock, watching as Boomer tried to conceal his giggles while he stood up.

"Take your shirt off."

Looking to him, you raised an eyebrow, a look that said "is this really how you're going to make that move?" in a way that he read almost straight away. He began unzipping his blue hoodie, turning from you and passing it behind him, generously, and uncharacteristically, offering you some privacy.

Taking it from him, you quickly made the swap, your body exposed to the cold night air only briefly before you zipped up the hoodie, still warm from Digger's body. You tucked your bra and shirt under the mattress, making a mental note to collect them before you were home, hoping they would be dry. Making sure the zip was up completely, not offering any suggestive cleavage for Digger to hook his ideas into, you settled yourself, noticing that you were smiling. You could smell him on the fabric that covered your body. Beer, sweat, lingering smoke, an acrid smell you couldn't quite place and a sweet one on top of that. As the fabric grazed over you, you could feel your nipples hardening. It wasn't the cold though, it was faint arousal at the way you felt so close to him.

"You done yet, you're only putting a hoodie on!"

"Shit, yeah, sorry."

"I can look?"

He raised his hands, pulling them from his pockets and holding them up to his side, questioningly.

"Mhm, yeah."

When he was facing you again, he let his lips turn into an appreciative expression.

"Looks good. Suits you!"

Thudding back down beside you, George immediately lifted his arm up, wrapping it around your body and pulling you close. You found yourself settling into the hug, a natural embrace, one that made your heart flutter slightly as you let your head rest entirely against him. And then it happened, the moment that secured your confusion about him and his intentions. He sighed wistfully. So deep and joyous, his fingers digging into your arm to let you know you were the reason for the warmth spreading through him.

"It's nice out here, you can actually see the stars. Couldn't tell you what any of them were though."

"Are you kidding me right now?"

He turned slightly to look at you.

"What?"

"What? What are you doing? You brought me up here to look at the stars?"

George narrowed his eyes, his brow furrowing in confusion and slight irritation.

"Yeah! I thought it would be romantic!"

"Exactly!"

"Exa-... what?"

"You're so confusing. This whole evening, you yourself, it's not how I thought it would be. I mean, it wouldn't be you without the occasional grope and cheeky wink, but you've been so... You're so... It's weird to see you being so..."

Digger's hand fell to your thigh, a light pressure aiming to calm you down.

"So what?"

You couldn't answer it, because you weren't even able to settle on a definitive answer yourself.

So confusing?

So disgusting?

So gentlemanly?

So romantic?

So hot?

All of that and more.

And when words had failed you, you decided that you'd have to express your feelings another way.

It was less of a romantic, graceful move and more that you sank into him, falling against his body, your lips luckily making contact with his as you both found your way in the kiss. Neither of you expected it, both of you surprised. The tenderness, the hunger behind it. You could taste everything about him, smell him even better than you had when you had put on his hoodie. You expected he was experiencing the same.

Digger fell back, his hands catching your waist as he pulled you with him, both of you laying now on the mattress in the back of his van. His hands pawed, grabbed, skimmed over you, oddly restrained in fact. That was until you shifted yourself up and onto him, straddling his hips and staring down at him, panting heavily as you both caught your breath and took stock of the situation you were now in. His hands on your waist made their way up to your shoulders, your neck, cupping your cheeks as he grinned at you. Watching your face, your expression, for any subtle changes as he let his hands trail back down your front, fingers catching on to the zip of his hoodie and pulling it down slowly, opening it to expose you to him before he cupped at your breasts as you bit your lip.

"Fuck me..."

Digger let out a low groan that followed his short, to the point statement. His fingers circled your nipples, tightening around them as he teased you. His hips bucked up, jostling you, letting you feel how hard he was. You could tell just from that motion that the rumours about how gifted he was had truth behind them.

Bending down to kiss him again, you let your tongue slip past his lips, his own meeting in your mouth. He tasted divine. Sweet, but acidic. Earthy almost, definitely addictive. Everything felt dream like, surreal. Mostly, you assumed, because you were doing something you'd never dream of, something you knew was ill-advised, a little bit silly, embarrassing in the right company. But it was hard to care.

You were quickly brought out of the dream like state however, as you felt Digger's hands between both of your crotches, unbuckling his belt and fiddling with the zipper on his jeans.

"Wait... on the first date? You think you've charmed me enough for that?"

With the smug, self-satisfied grin you had grown oddly fond of, George looked into your eyes as he spoke.

"I think you started this, so it's a pretty good indication of how much I've charmed you."

He winked as he let his fingers tug at the waistband of your own pants, pulling at them as you leaned in to another kiss. Your attempts to stop him, or at least to pretend that was your intention, were put to one side as your body reacted to the feeling of the cool air against your bare skin, his hands, rougher than you expected, holding your thighs, pulling your pants down further until he needed you to move.

"Well... have I charmed the pants off you at least?"

Smiling back at him, you nodded your head from side to side as though you were weighing up his efforts over the evening.

"I suppose you have charmed the pants off me, yes. But... I'm not sure how much further your winning personality has gotten you."

"There's plenty of time for me to catch up, then."

Clumsily, and with very little grace, you shifted and removed your pants, blushing as you noticed Digger watching you intensely, taking note of every movement, every second of you undresssing, as though you were offering him the performance of a lifetime. As you steadied yourself, he hooked his fingers into the band of your underwear and pulled you back to him, landing you flat on top o f his body, your hands on his chest.

Teasing at the band of your panties, he dipped two fingers underneath the fabric, skating over your mound and down to your lips, stroking them gently before spreading them apart. He rubbed one finger up and down, collecting your slick as he licked his lips, desperate to know how you tasted. Bringing his fingers to his lips, he ran them on his tongue, sucking them with his eyes rolling back.

"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck me."

He continued unzipping his pants and pulling them down, boxers included, to reveal his more than impressive cock. At least ten inches, easily, thick, perfect, topped with a tuft of almost flaming red hair. Trying to control yourself, you leaned back.

"What are you planning on doing with that, Harkness?"

He squirmed, pressing his eyes shut and biting his lip before he managed to strain himself enough to speak.

"I just want... I want you... touch it... feel you... something... come on, please!"

Shuffling forward, teasing him knowingly as you felt his head, his length, against your thighs, you mused out loud, humming as though you were actually considering it, as though you hadn't already made your mind up yet.

"I suppose... this was a pleasant enough date. I could give you something, throw you a bone."

He nodded furiously below you, muttering his words of agreement.

"But! Just the tip. I'm not sure how much more of that I could take. It should come with a warning."

George actually blushed, looking away from you for a moment, as though the comment had genuinely embarrassed him. It did seem odd to you in that moment that he wasn't constantly bragging about his prowess in that area. He struck you as exactly the kind of person who would mention the size of his cock at any opportunity. You wondered if had the effect on others that it had on you. It was daunting, a little bit nerve-wracking. How many of the few people who had made it this far had given up at the sight of it, you wondered.

Most, you assumed, as despite how desperate he seemed to fuck you, he agreed enthusiastically, happy to be offered any opportunity to get as close to you as possible. He was already pulling at your underwear, grasping at it, trying to pull it down before deciding to push it to the side as he lined up the head of his cock with your swollen lips.

Looking directly at you he maintained the intense eye contact as he slid himself between your lips, pushing at your tight entrance slowly, carefully, only allowing his head to enter you. It felt amazing. So good, better than you thought. It stretched, filled you up, and that was ten percent of what he had to give. He hissed, gritting his teeth in concentration, trying his hardest not to move his hips, to buck them, to push himself any further inside of you.

As you balanced yourself, trying to contend with the little of him that was inside of you, he brought his thumb to your clit, rubbing it, making you twitch, contracting against him, tightening the grip your cunt had on his head. As he groaned, you couldn't help yourself anymore. You wanted him, all of him. You were willing to risk it.

"God, George... just fuck me."

"Wh-what?"

"Fuck me! Just..."

Realising you might need to take matters into your own hands, you let yourself slide down his cock, each inch stretching you further, a shockwave of pain followed by dull throbs of ache and arousal coarsed through your body, the pit of your stomach feeling pressed, your insides stuffed with him. Llike you were being entirely consumed, enveloped, in George Harkness.

"Christ..."

It was all he could manage with the limited breath he had, his whole body stopping any other function to focus on not letting himself cum inside of you immediatel. The sudden warmth, the tight, wet embrace, the way you leaned back, breasts bouncing as helped yourself to him, riding his cock as he lay back and held your hips. His thumbs, stroking against your skin, where the top of your thighs met your lower stomach, feeling your own desperation as you worked him harder, faster, palms resting on his chest to balance yourself as you took everything he had.

Brows furrowed in concentration, pursuing your orgasm, you wailed as his fingers found their way back to your nipples, teasing them, grabbing at your breasts as you rolled your hips and felt his cock twitching agaisnt your walls. It hurt, but in a way that was delicious, a way that felt like it should be borderline illegal, like most things that provided such a wonderful, addictive experience were. But there you were, enjoying it. Loudly, explicitly. And very publicly. It didn't matter to you, and it really didn't seem to matter to George. You were quite happy to scream it from the rooftops then and there, how much you were enjoying it. Being fucked by Captain Boomerang, as ridiculous as his name always seemed to you. You'd be quite content to tell everyone that he was making you cum, that he was one stroke of his thumb against your erect nipples, one tap of his cock against the exact spot inside of you, from losing all composure.

"George... George..."

"Yeah... yeah, it's good... eh? I'm good."

"Fuck, you are. Yeah. Yes! Yes!"

One final, loud, resounding 'yes' echoed around you, filling the air, bursting through the trees. You imagined that anyone within a five mile radius might have heard Digger coming. His cock, falling from you against his body, still dripping with your slick, still spurting streams of his thick, white cum all over his abdomen, covering his thick pubic hair. His hands, still embedded in your skin, creating deep, red marks where the grip was far too tight, stinging so perfectly pleasantly.

Your own notes of pleasure hadn't exactly been all that much quieter than his own, but still drowned out by the amped up grunting and wailing of George. At least you could hold that saving grace. Allow yourself to cling to that modicum of your dignity.

Because you certainly weren't bothered about any other facets of it, as you slid down beside George on the dingy mattress, curling around his body, hand on his chest, smugly satisfied to know that you had contributed to the stains that would no doubt be a permanent feature.

#captain boomerang #digger harkness #george harkness #captain boomerang x reader #captain boomer x you #captain boomerang fanfic #finnie writes

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redstarwriting · 1 year

Text

the clash | v. ever fallen in love

hobie brown x goth!reader

word count: 3.1k

genre: enemies to lovers

warnings: language, insults, hobie hating you, you hating hobie, mentions of death, demonic names, mentions of injuries, giving and receiving stitches, geniuses being dumbasses

a/n: these keep getting longer LMAO which is wild too bc i literally had an idea to make this chapter even longer, but i had to end up splitting it up. thank you to everyone who’s reading the series, i appreciate you all more than you will ever know. please enjoy this chapter, the next should be out either late tonight or tomorrow :)

previous chapter: iv. london calling

now reading: v. ever fallen in love

next chapter: vi. (with someone you shouldn’t’ve)

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It’s been a few months since you’ve become a part of Spider Society, and much to everyone’s disappointment, you and Hobie still hate each other. Even though on any given day the two of you will be seen around each other, you’re always arguing. Yelling. There have been multiple times where the two of you almost fought, but someone always breaks it up before it gets to that point. “Ready to go, Hobie?” Gwen asks, and he scoffs. “Can’t believe ‘m bein’ forced to go to that dickhead’s world by you of all people,” he grumbles, and she rolls her eyes. “C’mon man, we all know that you’ve both been way more irritable towards everyone because you haven’t seen each other in what? Like two days?”

“I’ll be a lot worse when I see them, I can promise ya that, mate,” he snaps and Miles shakes his head. “Yeah, sure. Whatever, Hobie,” he says as Gwen pulls up the portal to your world. “Are you excited to see them? I haven’t seen you two apart for this long ever, you’re always together,” Pavitr says, side-eying Hobie. He keeps trying to tell Gwen and Miles the two of you only hate each other because you have strong feelings for one another and don’t know how to face them.

“I’m telling you, they’re obsessed with each other,” Pavitr says as he, Gwen, and Miles sit in his home, sipping some chai. “Obsessed with wanting to kill each other maybe, but that’s about it,” Miles says, and Pavitr groans. “No! You’ve got it all wrong! Neither of them knows how to express their feelings and that’s the only reason they act the way they do!” he tries to convince them, but Gwen and Miles just glance at each other. “I don’t know, Pav,” Gwen says. “I picked up on the romantic tension between the two of you immediately, why are you doubting my genius social cue reading now?”

“You need to stop being such a romantic, Pav. The two of them would rather eat glass than be romantically involved in any way,” Gwen responded, but Pavitr was not convinced.

He still isn’t. Hobie laughs. “Excited? You must be mental to think I’d be chuffed to see them,” he responds, and Pavitr sighs. One day. One day he will get Hobie to admit he cares for you.

Gwen was honestly a little nervous for this little meet-up. The two of you had a really bad fight recently, and trying to get the two of you back to talking level seems a little ambitious.

“You what?” he yelled, causing you to roll your eyes. “I’m being mentored by Miguel.” Hobie stares at you, not saying anything, with his mouth slightly open before he shakes his head. He’s very angry, but you simply don’t care. “He’s helping me, Hobie. We both have the venomous bite thing, so he’s trying to help me out with it and helping me adjust to–”

“Don’t you dare say adjust to fuckin’ Spider Society like I ain’t been here the whole time.”

“You never necessarily helped, Hobie. Unless you count constantly insulting me and–”

“Nah, don’t gimme that fuckin’ rubbish, (Y/n),” he growls, and you cross your arms. “Why are you so mad about it anyway?” He laughs. “Why am I mad? Seriously?! You’re the right fuckin’ hand of the pitch and toss!”

“The what?” you ask and he groans. “The fuckin’ boss, (Y/n)! The man!”

“So what, Hobart?! In case you forgot you’re a part of this society, you listen to Miguel too!”

“I fuckin’ don’t!”

“You fucking do!” By this point, you’d pulled attention from several other spiders, not only because of the yelling but because their senses were going off. The two of you were too focused on each other to realize they were all ready to pounce on the two of you. “Fuckin’ piss off before I do somethin’ we both regret,” he growls, and you laugh. “Make me.”

The two of you were separated after that and haven’t talked to each other since. Granted, it’s only been two days, but that is long for the two of you, honestly. And it’s been making everyone a target of Hobie’s rude remarks and your cynicism. The two of you need to talk because clearly, not talking just makes the two of you feel worse.

Even though Hobie’s acting like this is the worst thing his friends could possibly do to him, he does kind of sort of miss you. Which he hates. It’s been two days and he’s already missing you? Disgusting. He can’t wait to yell at you about it. He’s able to keep his cool and pretend like he really doesn’t want to go, but in reality, he’s so anxious to see you. “Alright, come on,” Gwen says, motioning for Hobie to enter the portal. He glances around at them. “Makin’ me go first?”

“Can’t have you run off at the last minute,” Gwen says and he sighs. “Whatever,” he says, walking a little too fast into the portal. He only stops when he’s enveloped in a familiar darkness. He feels something brush up against his leg, and he lets go of a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding. “Good seein’ ya, Shadow,” he says, bending down to give your cat some attention. Shadow headbutts him and he scratches between his ears. Your cat loves Hobie, much to your disdain.

“You hurt him, I kill you,” you said to him the second time he was at your place. He picked up Shadow while you were in your room, and when you came out and saw him holding your baby, you were ready to fight. But you were ready to fight him at any given moment anyways. “I won’t hurt him. He’s much cooler than his owner anyways,” Hobie says, petting his head. You roll your eyes. “Yeah well– wait is he purring?” you say, and Hobie smirks at you. “Looks like he likes me better than his owner too.”

“Shut the fuck up. Shadow!” you call your cat, your voice going from a tone that screams ‘I hate you’ to one that screams ‘I love you.’ Of course, Shadow’s ears perk up and he hops out of Hobie’s arms and right over to yours. You stick your tongue out at Hobie, who rolls his eyes and looks away to cover up the dusting of a smile on his face. “What are you, 12?” he asks, and you scoff. “Can I hold Shadow?” Pavitr asks, and you hand him to him without a second thought. But no matter who you passed him to, he’d either end up in yours or Hobie’s lap.

He's so lost in the memory that he doesn’t even sense you approaching. “So, you decided to actually show up. I’m surprised,” he hears your voice and looks up at you. “Wasn’t exactly by choice, love. If I had it my way, I’d never be in this hellhole again,” he retorts, and you just shake your head and say nothing. That’s strange. You thought for sure you would mention something about him being forced to do something even though he always does what he wants. “What? Have you lost your spitfire after only two days of not talkin’ to me?” he asks, standing. You sigh. “I just… I don’t have the energy to fight today, Hobie. Okay?”

Don’t have the energy? You literally always have the energy to fight with him. Before he can say anything else, Pavitr comes through the portal.

“(Y/n)! How have you been?” he asks, excitedly, hugging you. Hobie doesn’t like that. But what he doesn’t like even more is the slight look of pain that spreads across your face for a split second. He observes silently as you play it off like nothing happened, and Pavitr is none the wiser to it. Gwen and Miles enter shortly after, and the dynamic you all had before yours and Hobie’s attempted murder of each other returns. Except for the constant bickering between you and Hobie. Instead, it’s just a lot of silent glaring, and subtle reactions. “Okay, hold on. What the hell is this?” Miles asks, and you both look at him. “What?” you say at the same time, ending in a side eye to each other. “That! That right there, why aren’t you two threatening to tear each other’s heads off because you said the same thing?” Miles asks, and Hobie shrugs. “I got nothin’ to say to them.”

“Ditto,” you say, and the three of them look at you two like your heads just got cut off. “Are you serious?”

“Do I look like I’m havin’ a laugh, mate?” Hobie snaps at Miles and he puts his hands up in surrender. “This… is odd. I can’t recall the last time it was quiet between you two.”

“Because it never was. They always went for each other’s throats like their own lives depended on it,” Pavitr says to Gwen, and you clear your throat. “We’re right here, you know,” you say with a forced grin. “Yeah, care to save the talkin’ bout us til we aren’t around?” Hobie grumbles and the three glance at each other before nodding. “Sorry, you two…” Gwen says, and you shrug. “It’s whatever. Dealt with worse,” you say, and Hobie nods. He glances over at you again. How is no one else noticing how weird you’re acting? Is he the only one who pays attention to you or some shit?

This isn’t the first time he’s picked up on your odd behaviors. Within the time he knew you, he was able to notice your behaviors unlike anyone else.

He wasn’t necessarily looking for you. He’d never go out of his way to look for you in a million years, yet here he was. In your world because you didn’t show up at the allotted time everyone was gonna meet up at in his world. He webbed up to the tallest building, the Ember Stake Building. It resembled that of a wooden stake, except all black and metal instead of wood. Sure enough, you were there. “You’re late.”

You turn and look at him, but don’t say anything. Instead, you just turn away. He frowns. “What’s that all about, then?” he asks, plopping next to you. You sigh. “I think I’m just gonna stay here tonight.”

“What? Why? Because you’re too borin’ to do anythin’ fun? Gotta work late tonight?”

“No. Personal reasons,” you say and he cocks his head to the side. “Such as?”

“Fuck off, Hobie. I’m not telling you.”

“Yes, you are. What’s goin’ on in that empty head of yours?” he asks and you give him an unamused look. “It’s the anniversary of my Uncle Belial’s death,” you mumble. He frowns. “Ah. I see.”

“...Yeah.” The two of you sit in silence, the wind the only noise happening before he sighs. “Well then, you’re definitely comin’ tonight.” He stands. You look at him. “I just said-”

“And I don’t give a shit. Come on, your friends are waitin’ for you. Besides, they can help ya get your mind off of it. Chop-chop.” You ended up going because you were forced to. But you did have a good time. Hobie was right, it helped you get your mind off of things. And maybe you were reading into it, but he seemed just a tad bit nicer to you that night than normal.

And you could tell his.

“And what the hell is your problem today?” you appear behind Hobie who is angrily restringing his guitar in his common room at Spider Society. “Well now you’re a part of it,” he responds. You sit on the floor across from him. “As much as I’m happy just my presence can reduce you to a massive asshole, I don’t think I’m the only reason this time.”

“How could you even tell?”

You shrug. “You busy your mind and hands when you’ve got something on your mind,” you say, and he looks at you. He clicks his tongue and shakes his head. “Didn’t realize you were obsessed with me.”

“You wish,” you say. He sighs. “New group of fascist assholes showed up today,” he begrudgingly opens up and you nod. “Told you so.” He glares at you. “Had to say it,” you say, “But you’ll beat them. You always do.” He glances at you. “And if you can’t, I’ll just take care of it for you.” He laughs, unamused. “I’d like to see you try.”

He’s unsure why so many memories are flooding back to him at this moment in time. The answer is that he’s obsessed with you and Pavitr is right, but we don’t need to talk about that until he realizes it for himself. Maybe not seeing you has made him think about you more for some reason. He shakes his head, rejoining the conversation. Everything goes surprisingly well for the rest of the time you all are together. Unfortunately, Gwen gets a notice that something is happening in her world, and she has to go. Miles follows, and Pavitr is torn between going with them or staying with the two of you to make sure no one gets murdered. Or to see some romantic shit.

“We been behavin’, haven’t we?” Hobie says, a bit relieved they were leaving so he could find out what was up with you. You were close with the others, but even they’ve commented on you two only opening up with each other. “You actually have… and maybe it’d be good to leave them alone. Talk out whatever issues they’re having,” Miles says to Pavitr and Gwen, who look at each other but reluctantly agree. Miles and Pav rush into Gwen’s world before her. “I swear if you two kill each other I’m going to kill both of you,” Gwen says, walking backward into the portal to her world and pointing at the two of you. “We won’t.”

“Probably,” Hobie finishes, and Gwen rolls her eyes before disappearing. There’s a silent tension between the two of you before he speaks up. “What happened?”

“I don’t know what you’re–”

“Don’t play dumb with me, now. What happened?” he pushes, and you frown at him. Shadow leaps up into your lap and nuzzles you. You sigh and gently pet him. Hobie stays silent, watching and waiting. “Just… bad day,” you mumble. “Bad day, how?”

“Bad spider day.” He hums. “That why you looked like Pav stabbed ya after that hug?” You look at him, surprised. “You saw that?”

“Course I did. ‘m not fuckin’ daft,” he responds, and you look at Shadow. “Yeah… it’s nothing, though. Just a few scratches, typical Spider-Person shit,” you say, and he nods. “Let me see, then.”

“What?”

“Let me see.”

“Why?”

“Cause you’re lyin’,” he shrugs, and you glare at him. “Have I told you I hated you?”

“Not recently, but yeah.” You glare at him but sigh. “Fuck you, Hobie,” you mumble, but shrug off your oversized cardigan. His eyes widen as he sees deep lacerations and bruises spread across your shoulder and onto your back. He stands up and approaches you without even realizing it. You watch him as he studies your injuries. “Who did this?” His voice sounds darker than you’ve ever heard it. You look away from him. “Does it matter?”

“Yes,” he responds immediately. You turn your head to look at him again, only to have him staring directly into your eyes. “Prowler,” you mumble, and he frowns. “The worst of the worst in your world,” he whispers to himself, recalling a conversation the two of you had months ago. He glances around. “Where’s your first aid kit?” he asks, and you look at him with a side-eye. “Why?”

“Cause I wanna get high off the painkillers in it, why do you think, you dolt?” he snaps, and you point to your bathroom. “Under the sink.” He gets up and walks into your bathroom, grabs the first aid kit, and walks back out to you on your couch. “Turn round and move a bit,” he says, and you do. He sits behind you, starting to clean and stitch to your injuries up. You wince slightly and he frowns. “Why haven’t you done this yet?”

“I can’t reach back there myself.”

“Then ask someone else to do it.”

“I don’t have anyone to ask anymore.”

“Yes, you do,” he says without missing a beat. You turn your head to say something snarky to him, but he looks at you at the same time. Your faces are closer than the two of you expected, causing you both to quickly look away. You can feel your face burning, and you’re grateful the injuries are mainly on your back and not close to your heart because you don’t want to hear his comments about how fast it’s beating. On an equal note, Hobie’s happy you aren’t looking at him because he has his jaw clenched and swallows hard. His heart is beating just as fast, but he pretends like it’s nothing, just like you. He finishes the stitches, placing bandages over top of them. “Done,” he says, and you mutter a quick ‘thank you’ as he tosses the first aid kit onto your coffee table. “Should be healed by tomorrow,” you mumble, and he nods. “When did that happen?”

“A few hours before you all got here,” you admit, and he frowns. “And you were just gonna pretend nothing happened?”

“Yes. I told you earlier, I’m too tired to deal with any bullshit today, okay?” you confess, and he frowns.

“He get ya that good cause you’re tired?”

“I guess.”

“When’s the last time you slept?”

“Dunno.”

“Stop lyin’ love,” he says, and the nickname you hate oh so much sounds just a little sweeter to you than it should. “Couple days ago.”

“You haven’t slept in two days?” You shake your head, and he sighs. “Go the fuck to sleep. Now.”

“But–”

“Go,” he demands, pointing to your bedroom. You groan, “You’re so fucking annoying,” you mumble, getting up and dragging yourself to your room. “Yeah, yeah whatever,” he says, following you. You flop onto your bed as he leans against the doorframe, arms crossed. “Come to tuck me in?”

“You wish,” he watches as Shadow hops up onto your bed, curling up against you. You immediately put your hand on him and pet him. Hobie frowns as he feels a pang of annoyance toward your cat. “Gonna stand there and watch me sleep or something?” your voice pulls him out of his ridiculous thoughts, and he scoffs. “Gonna stand here and make sure you don’t try to get up as soon as I go,” he says, and you sigh. “Fine,” you mutter, rolling away from him. He stands there until he’s sure you’re asleep. He glances at Shadow, who is still awake and staring at him. He puts his finger to his lips to say “shh” as he pulls his mask over his head.

He and the Prowler of this world need to have a bit of a chat.

───────────────────────────────

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#hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x y/n #hobie brown x you #hobie x reader #spiderpunk x reader #spiderverse x reader #hobie brown #hobie #spiderpunk #spider-punk #spiderverse #theclashofthespiderverse

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venuslut · 5 months

Text

FANTASIZING ABOUT having office sex with Nanami Kento ♡︎.

At first, Nanami didn’t even like you. While he works his ass off, you sit lazily at your desk and only care about your appearance. More invested in reapplying lipgloss to your brown lip-lined lips, or wondering if you should wear your natural afro out or braid your hair. You’d walk around the office with those tight little pencil skirts that could barely be considered professional, and those blouses that always found some way to accentuate your boobs.

But the icing on the cake was how dumb you were. It’s a miracle you even landed this job with how incompetent you were. Always asking him or your other colleagues to help you with a report, and if you were feeling really lazy, then you’d just ask them to do the whole thing entirely. You’d always flash them a sweet and innocent smile while you bent over beside them, offering an insincere apology for burdening them. No one could get mad at you though, well, no one except Nanami that is.

He’s had enough of your antics and decided you needed to learn that your beauty isn’t gonna get you anywhere around him. But he’s lesson, turned out to be having you sit naked on his lap with his cock stuffing you full. Your back was to his chest and he tied your wrist together behind you with his tie. Tears welled up in your eyes, threatening to smudge your perfect makeup but that was the least of your worries right now. Soft mewls left your lips and you begged for mercy, wanting him to move and grant you some kind of relief. But your pleas fell on deaf ears as Nanami continued to do his work, he had to work overtime because of you so you wouldn’t be getting any pleasure from him until he finished all the reports you dumped onto him earlier that day.

He’ll have you like that for what seems like hours when really it’s a few minutes because your reports really aren’t that hard. And when he’s done, best believe you’re in a world of hurt. The minute he clicks submit on the last assignment, he’s moving and bringing you along with him. Nanami surges up and brings you forward with a yelp of surprise. Without much care, he’ll have you fall onto his desk, forcing your back into an arch so that his cock stayed inside you. “See, did that take so long for me to do? It’s not hard if you put actual effort into it,” he says, thrusting into you from behind. One of his hands holding your arm to bring your body back so you took the full force of his strokes, the other hand is holding the back of your neck and pushing your face down into the cold plastic of his cubicle desk.

Clicking his tongue in disappointment, Nanami drank in your desperation as you moaned and whined shamelessly. For a moment, he allowed himself to enjoy the glazed, tearful look on your face. It was much more appealing in his opinion than your smug and ditzy expression that you constantly sported. Because he knew very well that you were such a whore underneath that innocent facade, and it was just a matter of time before someone put you in your place. His thrust were punishing, The sounds of your bodies colliding filled the room, the desk beneath you rocking with each forceful movement, creaking and groaning under the force of Nanami’s powerful movements.

Your moans mingled with the lewd slapping sounds that echoed in the office, fueling his desire further. Nanami's hips moved in a relentless dance of pleasure and possession, his own need building. He smoothly moved his fingers from your nape to entangle in your hair, before suddenly gripping it and pulling your head up as he leaned down to meet you halfway so he could speak in your ear.

“At least you’re good for something. You’re better suited as a well kept whore than an office worker, but don’t worry, I’ll fix that soon enough.”

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nouearth · 5 months

Note

Imagine getting used as a walking fleshlight by Bruce (Bale) and Clark (Corenswet) at the same time. Both high five'ing each other with dark lust filled eyes while Eiffel tower'ing you. Bruce's cock fulls your mouth so well, he then rubs his cock all over your face. Clark's thrusts are the strongest you've ever experienced, his balls slap against you as if they were a force of nature; you're holding onto ass and pulling him deeper inside you while Bruce rams into your throat like it's a fleshlight.

💌 : ugh, anon. my main men! (although i love pattinson just as much, bale just screams... daddy for me.) also, i—for some reason—love it when guys are showcasing douchey behavior when they're fucking, urgh.

for bruce, his cock had never felt so full and warm down your throat before. you could barely take him, but he was constantly peppering you in toe-curling praises so you tried your best to sheathe more of him inside of your mouth because you didn't want to disappoint him, or even clark for that matter.

the thick of his cock pushed all the saliva out of your mouth, drool dripping from either corners of your stretched lips, and as much as bruce loved seeing how much of a mess you'd become, reducing your identity to merely a flesh-light, he would pull his cock out and slide it over your lips to feed the saliva you'd dribbled back into your cock-addicted mouth.

you'd lap him up like you were a fiend for his cock, and bruce recognized that, exploiting your addiction when he'd pull himself out at times to hear you whine—to see your eyes widen with a plea that would drive him mad because they became so glossy. your brows etched with worry and agony as it seemed like he was stripping you away from a necessity to living.

the simple thought that you lived and breathed for his cock turned him on, fed his ego, and then fed yours because only you could make him feel so good like this. he would rub his cock all over your face, slap it across your cheek and nose occasionally, before jerking himself off to the scene of clark fucking you, his balls heavily rolling over your pretty features in midst. he'd then hold your cheeks, rough hands at the underside of your jaw, before he began fucking gloriously into your mouth because he was close. so fucking close.

for clark, the sounds of your gagging and gargling was enough to send him over the edge. with his heightened senses, he could hear every intricate noise that you'd deliciously graced him with; the small gasps you would inhale to recover your breath, only for you to gag and cough on them when bruce shoved his cock back inside of your mouth; the sloppy and wet squelches from the lube dripping from your hole as clark fucked his large cock madly into you; the nasal pitch of the bed creaking, a noisy proof of the men's absolute destruction on your body as they intend to break you.

sex with you was an exception to clark's habitual gentlemanly spirit as you drove him mad, teased him for being a goody two-shoes, for being too vanilla for your liking, and he wanted to prove you wrong. he wanted to prove to you that he could be both sides of the same coin, and if he went far enough, you'd beg for him to be easier on you next time.

he would pull your arms back and hold your two wrists together in one strong grip, allowing the position to contort your body in a way that emphasized the shape of your body. you felt your muscles flex, throb apprehensively because they've never been stretched like this before—stretched past their limits. and clark would maintain this position because he was addicted to seeing how the sweat collected at the dips of your back muscles, then rolled off the hill of your ass when your body struggled uncomfortably to meet his cock.

he was too big for you, much bigger than you'd taken before, and clark would make you remember that. he would instill a sense of fear within you—that you might completely break if he were to completely shove his large cock inside of you if he wasn't kind enough to control himself—restrain himself from filling you to the brim.

and he would also instill a craving within you—one that you'd find yourself thinking about his cock for hours, days, months—because you'll never find someone with a cock, a fuck like him. ramming into you hard yet steady, powerfully yet pacing, large and uncomfortable yet deliciously enthralling as clark would make every stretch soar to your senses, soar to make your throat hollow and dry—at least for the moment before bruce was shoving himself back inside of you. they'd chuckle, sometimes laugh not because you were embarrassing, but because you were so impressive to them that they didn't know how else to react other than with affection and laughter. they'd coo at you, pet at your head, tell you what a good boy you were, and fist bump whenever you deep-throated bruce and/or pushed yourself back into clark until he was balls-deep, until he pressed into a golden spot.

and they'd continue with you for hours, fucking you repeatedly, taking their turns with your mouth and ass, sometimes two cocks in one, and you'd never felt happier than being fucked in this moment. elated when bruce filled your mouth with his own cum; warm and creamy as it sat and spread thick on your tongue—your throat as you swallowed like the good boy you were. then full, when clark came into your ass. he held you close, pressing close to you until you were practically glued to him, and his balls jolted, twitched, and throbbed as he dumped his load in you. you can feel clark's cum seeping deeper into when he doesn't stop fucking into your hole, churning his cum into you until you memorized the shape of his cock, the way his cum spread thick inside of you. then finally leaking when he pulled out to see you push out his thick cum loads on instinct.

hehe, thank you for the imagine, anon! 💗 and now, i'm gonna pretend as if i didn't write all of that and create the illusion that i, in fact, am an innocent man.

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lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 8 days

Text

Yandere Squid Game AU | Idia Shroud

Working for a secret organization that murdered its players on a massive scale wasn’t as horrifying as it sounds. Granted, it was truly mortifying but you get used to it. You don’t show your face, you don’t flinch, and you listen to the Frontman. If you keep quiet and stay in your lane it isn’t long before you start moving up the ladder. From triangle to circle to square–it was like any other job. Like in any typical occupation if your boss, finds favor in your physique or otherwise you naturally get promoted. Thus was your fate as you went from being a mere circle to becoming the masked servant in the VIP room where you subject yourself to the whims of the richest and most disgusting patrons.

Idia Shroud

Not many had the privilege of seeing the identity of the Host but you weren’t a part of the many. He was a technical genius, an avid inventor, and the one who loved to switch between his position as the Host and Frontman: Idia Shroud.

Now that you knew the joyful tilde in the disguised voice was made with a toothy smile of a gamer with azure flame-like hair; it made a disturbing amount of sense. No longer could you differentiate the man from his madness when he demanded you call his name in private.

When you first met him he gave an odd aura, speaking as though he was imitating someone or making fun of whoever he was talking to. It made for an interesting work environment, he would make oddly specific references as he commanded the squares who could only tilt their heads and agree. Usually, you’d practiced your stoicism keeping yourself as robotlike as possible.

But one meme.

One reference.

That has you chuckling and answering the Frontman, who seemed to freeze behind his mask still turned in your direction. He continues on acting as if nothing happened and you worry that you may have embarrassed yourself in front of your boss. Only to be broken out of your routine by one of the squares who handed you folded clothes and gave you instructions to begin your job as a VIP waiter.

So maybe he did like it?

“You’re the new waiter, right?”

You nodded.

“Good. You like it, here?”

“...Yes.”

“Good.”

The interaction was so curt and quick that you missed the skip in his step. It doesn’t take long for you to realize whoever is behind the frontman’s mask is also the one pretending to dress up as whatever shape employee you need to interact with. At that point, it makes you tirelessly paranoid as you feel the possible pressure of your boss constantly watching you.

And while you think you might have hidden your fear behind your masks, guess who’s got heavy surveillance on your room? He sees the way you pace on your time off and the recordings of you whispering affirmations in the bathroom. He enjoys seeing your cute reactions when he scares you a bit or how you tilt your head when you're trying to guess if it's him. But he loves you more. And if his kitten is feeling skittish he’ll change your environment.

“You. Come with me.”

You nod, sending a look to the other VIP waiters who express their worry with as little expression as possible. Following the Host whose appearances were so far and in between would mean instant death should you disappoint. But with as many things in your life, you expected who this was.

“...Sir?”

The Host turns their head to you, stopping in his tracks.

‘How dare you?’

You sighed harnessing your courage as you continued.

“I know who you are…you’re the one who's been behind the masks right?”

He stayed in place.

“The one who’s left those memes in my room. That was you, right?”

He turned fully around. Facing you with his arms behind his back.

“And if I am?”

You didn’t actually know. You just wanted to be sure. To throw away this facade of deception. You wanted the truth.

“I would prefer it if you just told me it was you. Rather than pretending you were someone else.”

A bellied voice-modified laughter emanated from the Host. He grabbed his wrist, subtly clicking at a device on his arm. Before returning to cradle his stomach.

“Awfully bold of you to approach your boss like this.”

Perhaps your relocation could wait.

#yandere x you #lovelyyandereaddictionpoint #yandere x reader #yanderexrea #yandere #yanderes #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twst #yandere twst x reader #yandere squid game au #yandere idia shroud #yandere idia x reader #yandere idia shroud x reader #yandere ignihyde #yandere twisted wonderland x reader

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linos-luna · 9 months

Text

Yandere Stray Kids Profiles 🔪

My headcannons for Yandere Skz.

—————————— 🔪 ——————————

Bang Chan

Manipulative and controlling

Chan doesn’t need to hurt you. He can charm you into doing whatever he wants. He can control who you talk to or where you go and you wouldn’t even realize it. He love bombs you and hits all your insecurities. On the rare chance that he does get mad, he’ll punish you by a spanking. But he apologizes afterwards and makes you believe you deserved it.

• He’s so sweet and loving

.• gives you everything you could ever want.

• spoils you and tells you nice things.

• he has successfully cut off your friends and family. But you don’t know that. He says they abandoned you.

• you might develop Stockholm Syndrome

• he’s all you need.

• Always gaslighting you

• you call him Daddy.

• A rule he’s very strict about

• He’ll spank you if you make him mad.

• and make you explain what you did wrong

• then tell you it hurt him more than you.

• and you believe him. He’s so loving! How could you make him so angry?

“Daddy is very disappointed in you…”

“Why would you do that, babygirl?”

“Whatever you want, I’ll buy it for you!”

“Do you want daddy to touch you? To make you feel good?”

“Daddy would never hurt you.”

Minho

Unhinged but controlling

Unhinged is putting it lightly. He loves you desperately and believes you love him too. Unlike Chan, he is not so subtle when controlling you. He loves being in control. And he’s not afraid to hurt you.

• He’ll snap at you at random.

• obsessed with everything you do

• rarely lets you go out but when you do, he always stalks you.

• rules he expects you to follow

- call him oppa

- kisses everday!

- wear only what he wants you to wear

- NO talking back…

• He WILL punish you

• lock you in the closet or spank you

• actually, he looks for any excuse to do so

• He loves to bend you over his lap and spank you, making you count each one

Changbin

Violent… sometimes unintentional

Changbin is very short tempered. Being with him is like walking on eggshells: but he doesn’t want to hurt you. Not at all! But sometimes he fails to realize his strength.

• He just wants you by his side all the time

• Always hold his hand in public

• or else he’ll pull you close.

• might dislocate your shoulder.

• but he doesn’t mean it!

• but sometimes you make him snap and he’ll yell or slam fists on the table.

• you better hide before you end up in his crossfire

• He will spank you you as a last resort

“Come here, why are you so distant?”

“Why did you make me hurt you?!”

“Im sorry that I love you so much!”

“You make me crazy.”

Hyunjin

Delusional and hopeless romantic

Hyunjin believes you are soulmates. He believes you are the love of his life and wants to please you. Rather than facing reality, he rather stay in this delusion…

• desperate for you

• cherishes and practically worships you

• not very violent but immediately remorseful if he hurts you

• will do everything for you

• you don’t even have to walk

• but you can’t go out without him, even in the backyard

• keeps you away from windows

• can’t taint your skin to the sun rays!

• easily jealous

• writes you poems and makes you are

“Sorry! Sorry! Darling, I didn’t mean to hurt you!”

“You’re the love of my life!”

“Anything for you, love.”

Han

Psychotic and Craves attention 24/7

He’s very needy and constantly wants your attention. If you don’t give it to him, he get mad- no. Furious. How dare you reject him. You’re supposed to love him! I mean, he takes care of you right?

• give him all your attention!

• never mention another boy around him!

• even if it’s like a brother or cousin

• if you don’t give him attention, he’ll get very accusatory

• He’ll think you’re cheating!

• then he gets crazy

• starts speaking nonsense

• and getting violent.

“Why did you leave?? Were you cheating??”

“Noona, who are you talking to?”

“Hey! Get off your phone! Love me!”

“Cheater! How dare you!”

Felix

Subby yandere?

Felix acts like an innocent boy. There’s no way he’s bad. He just wants you to love him and take care of him. But sometimes he gets angry and loses his composure.

• Wants you to be with him all the time. Why would you leave him?

• he’d never hurt you right?

• well if he loses composure, then he will.

• he wants to be your cute subby boy…

• for you to love him and cuddle

• and if you break that he’ll get angry.

• He’ll throw a fit and kick and punch

• Play along if you wanna keep the peace

“No that’s not right! I thought you loved me!”

“Don’t leave me, I’m sowwy 🥺”

Seungmin

Stotic and unpredictable

It’s a little unnerving how calm Seungmin can be. You’re never sure what exactly he’s going to do at any given moment. Sometimes he’s fine, but then he’s yelling at you.

• he’s obsessed with you but doesn’t outwardly show it

• gives you lots of rules

• some you didn’t even know were rules until he gets mad

• he likes making you nervous

• likes controlling you

• hates when you don’t listen

• will suddenly yell in your face.

• threatens you with violence but won’t actually do it

• but then be calm and want to cuddle

“Sweetheart… what are you doing?”

“Did I say you were allowed to talk to her?”

“Bad girl!!”

“Sit down!”

“C’mon baby, let’s go lay down and watch movies ☺️”

Jeongin

Manipulative

Jeongin knows he’s cute. He knows you find him adorable. So he uses that to his advantage. He’ll get you to do anything he wants.

• He would prevent you from going to see family or friends by coincidentally getting hurt

• Your baby is in pain! You must help him!

• constantly injures him actually

• will do anything for your attention

• Says your friend is mean to him. Of course you believe him! Maybe she’s jealous. No need to see her anymore.

“Noona! Where are you going? My stomach hurts. I think I’m sick.”

“I missed you all day. Why don’t you spend time with me?”

“I didn’t mean it, noona! I’m sorry!” 🥺

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julesthequirky · 4 months

Text

The Choice: Chapter Eight

All my work is purely aimed at those 18+ so minors kindly, DNI.

Summary: You find three of your favourite characters in your home. It shouldn’t be possible, but there they are. In the flesh. How the hell did they get there? And surely there’s a way to get them back? But as you get close to each one, the thought of sending them back proves difficult to comprehend.

Characters/Pairings: Fem!Reader, Dean, Beau and Ben (Soldier Boy)

Warnings: Language, typical Soldier Boy behaviour, angst, dashed dreams, mental breakdown.

W/C: 1,628

You were mad, upset, disappointed, frustrated by the lot of them. Ben sometimes acted like a child, which was ridiculous for a guy older than your grandpa. Dean and Beau had messed up, but for some damn reason, they wouldn’t apologise. They both got along like a house on fire, and you felt like you'd be constantly telling them to take Ben along with whatever the Hell they were up to, like a mother to her older sons. It was stupid and ridiculous. You weren’t a mother to any of them, and you’d be damned if you were gonna act like it.

The store was bustling, and people got in your way as you searched for Ben. He could be anywhere, which was sure. He could have even left. The thought filled with dread and panic, and hoping against all the odds, you rushed around the store like a headless chicken.

A blur of forest green caught your eye as you returned to the store’s clothing section. You'd recognise his Kevlar vested back anywhere and rushed over. He stood drinking whiskey and staring at baby clothes. Oh, fuck. Something about his demeanour put a bad feeling in your stomach.

“Ben?”

You reached out and touched his wrist. He didn’t pull away. He took another swig. You were gonna have to pay for that. Was he drunk? You didn’t know, but he probably was well on his way.

“I wanted kids. Not a lot, just a few. Two or three rugrats to call my own. I woulda raised ‘em right, too. Turns out that little shithead, Homelander, is mine, but he ain’t really, is he? He’s just a load of spunk I splurted into a test tube. An experiment. If he really was my kid, he wouldn’t be a needy little pussy crying for everyone’s attention. I mean, he wears a cape, for Christ’s sake. A fucking disappointment.”

“Ben.” You tugged his wrist gently to get him out of this kind of stupor he was in.

“I deserve some respect. I deserve to have a kid that’s not a fucking disgrace. I deserve fucking loyalty,”

He turned to you.

“And you let those doppelganger dipshits take the piss outta me. You didn’t do anything.”

The sudden turn of blame gave you whiplash.

“I—I didn’t. I didn’t know, Ben. You know that. We were together.”

He aggressively pointed a finger at your chest, disgust evident on his face.

“Fuck you, Y/N. You were more disappointed with them. I saw it in your face. It’s only cause you wanna get pounded into the next life by that floppy-haired sheriff and that hair-brained hunter. And fuck you for expecting me to react the way I did.”

His attack left you speechless, almost gasping for breath. Your mouth opened and closed multiple times, floundering to grasp words. Anything.

“You’re weak and pathetic, and I can see why your husband left you.”

You winced, physically afflicted by his cutting tongue. Emotion expanded in your chest as if the wind was knocked out. Tears stung the corners of your eyes, threatening to escape. You couldn’t cry. Not now. It meant he had won, but fuck you were struggling to keep it together. He had struck a raw nerve.

“Fuck you,” The words came shuddering out. “You don’t know anything about me.”

You sucked in a breath, feeling as though not enough went to your lungs. He stood there and took another swig from the bottle, a grimace on his lips as he stared you out.

“Trouble in paradise?”

That voice, that all too familiar smarmy voice. Your knees almost buckled, and the tears almost spilt over, but you remained strong. Oh, fuck. Things were about to go from bad to worse. You shuddered in another breath and tried to control the emotions rampaging inside.

Your ex, Mark, stood, shopping basket in hand. The worst thing was that he looked absolutely dashing as usual. Blonde hair combed and coiffed, immaculate blue eyes that always made your heart race. Or used to. Now, they made you avert your gaze. He reminded you of an assholish Chris Evans.

Seeing him brought up resentment, sadness, shame, hurt, and many other emotions. Your chest tightened. You didn’t need this now. Not when you were already feeling kicked down.

“You’re crazier than I thought. Getting your…uh boyfriend to dress up as that guy from that TV show.”

Damn it. Damn it. Damn, it! Ben wasn’t your new boyfriend, but Mark didn’t know that, and before you could tell him, he spoke again.

“Do you just date doppelgangers now?”

“No…”

God, he made you feel so inferior.

“Turns her on to no end when I do.”

Your neck swivelled so fast to Ben, who was now playing the perfect boyfriend. All charm, smirking, with no sign of the anger and hurt he had displayed a moment ago towards you.

He stepped closer, touched your shoulder, and squeezed gently.

Mark leant on one side, cocking his head.

“Hang on, your mother never said you were dating anyone. In fact, I know because she keeps wanting to set you up with Cole.”

Your jaw tensed. Mark still kept in contact with your mother. Figures. The two always got along, and when you told your mother of your divorce, she was more broken up about him not being her son-in-law than your broken relationship with Mark.

“I don’t talk to her that often.” You said in a clipped tone.

“You should. She and your dad—”

“Not my dad.” You interjected.

The sharp bite of your nails dug into the skin of your palms as you felt the anger bottle and build.

“They want you over for dinner. And why don’t you bring your new guy.”

“What a great idea!” Ben cut in, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you closer. He honestly had some nerve.

“I’ll let her know.”

Mark pulled out his phone, and you watched his thumbs fly across the on-screen keyboard, typing a message to your mother.

“She and your dad will be so excited.”

“Hey! Fuck nugget! Didn't you hear her say he wasn't her dad!"

Mark jumped as Ben barked at him. A slight smile curved your lips at seeing Mark lose that unflappableness, even just for a second.

“Darling, did you get the baby grows?”

A female voice trilled down the aisle. Mark turned, and so did you. The slight smile left your face. The anger dissipated. A heaviness slowly took over your whole body.

The woman walking towards Mark was heavily pregnant.

Your ears rang, your head tingled, and dizziness had you closing your eyes, trying to regain your balance and equilibrium. You didn’t hear Mark as he introduced his girlfriend. When you opened your eyes, she was smiling, radiant, a picture of perfect health. Of course, it hadn’t bypassed you that she was younger than you. No, everything about her and their relationship was a massive punch to the gut, and you couldn’t take your eyes off the way she protectively rested her hand on her belly.

Fuck. It wasn’t right. It wasn’t fair. Thank God Ben had his arm around you because you felt like at any moment your knees would buckle and you’d crumble to the floor. If that happened, you knew you’d lose any ounce of emotional strength and break down crying.

A pair of fingers snapping in your face got your attention. They were Ben’s. You pushed his hand away and began focusing on your breathing. In. Then out. Fuck. You couldn’t do this.

“Hey, is there any chance you still have those baby clothes? I mean…you won’t be needing them.”

Wooooow.

You stared at Mark, brows pinching together. He had returned back to his usual smug self. What right did he have to ask of that? They were a gift. A visual reminder of a rapidly dwindling dream. And it hit you. He implied that you were too old to even get pregnant. Which wasn’t true. At least, you hoped.

He had shattered your dreams of having a baby. Tore the carpet right up from under your feet. He hadn’t wanted a baby with you, but rather with someone else. Pain lashed across your chest, and you turned away from them. Beau and Dean stood from afar with the cart, watching. How much had they seen? Had they even heard?

You pushed yourself free of Ben’s grip. Nausea churned like a nasty swirling vortex in your stomach. Head ringing, heart racing, you forced yourself out. Time slowed, and every step felt like you were wading in sludge.

The automatic doors finally opened, and you rushed out, stumbling, shaking. You tripped and fell, bashing your knee on the bench. You howled like a baby before retching into the bin.

A hand touched your shoulder quickly. You swatted it away before it returned again, this time to remain. A low, soothing voice filtered past the ringing. Your hair was gently pulled back, fingers massaging your head as you coughed and spluttered up bile.

Shaking, you curled, hands balled to your ears. The pain in your chest wouldn’t go away, the tears wouldn’t stop, and you didn’t think you could stop them either. Big, heavy, ugly, full chest heaving sobs wracked your body.

Arms wrapped around you, pulling you into them, tight, shielding you from the nosy crowds. A hand curled around the back of your head, pushing you into a strong chest. You gripped the soft material of their jacket with all the strength you had. That same deep, soothing voice filtered into your ears.

Ben was right. You were weak. You were pathetic.

You weren’t good enough to make a baby with. You weren’t young enough. You just weren’t enough.

Tags: @yvonneeeee, @curlycarley, @angelbabyyy99, @sassy-pelica, @k-slla, @deans-spinster-witch, @ashdoctor, @eretsupremacy89, @fanfic-n-tabulous, @deans-number-one-fan, @afro-hispwriter, @justjensenandhisalteregos, @tiredstrangerr, @zemosdarling228.

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alucarddear · 10 months

Note

what if alucard’s wife dreams that he cheated? like she wakes up in the middle of the night almost crying and then occurs to her “oh, I was dreaming” but she’s still a little bit mad and get away from his embrace which wakes him up and he’s like “babe what’s wrong?” “you cheated” and he’s like “what? I didn’t!”. a little bit fluffy in the end with him assuring her that this will never happen because he loves her too much 🥹

+more requests that are along the same vein. Here’s to some of you seeking a comfort drabble with our beloved meow meow. 🤍🦇

Immutable Truth

Alucard’s wife dreams that he cheated on her. [She/her]

It is immutable truth. Just as the sun is bright and the nights are dark, I love you.

Alucard wakes to the sound of his wife sniffling next to him.

He wipes the sleep from his eyes and immediately attempts to take her in his arms, but she wouldn't budge. “What’s wrong? Another nightmare?”

He expects some half-slurred sad story—the usual culprit that breaks her sleep—but meets instead a fierce glare.

Her eyes are burning. "I dreamt that you cheated on me!"

His wife's remark almost had him laughing, if not for the distress on her face.

“What? Love, I never would,” he states calmly. “Hush now. It’s a bad dream and nothing more, I assure you.”

"Adrian, I-I..."

And there it is, the sight he dreads the most. Quivering lips, reddened eyes, tears that wouldn't seem to stop. Her sobbing pierces straight through his heart and fills him with the overwhelming need for anything to have it stop, anything to make her feel better.

"Hush now, darling. It was nothing but a bad dream. Come here," he says, arms open to receive her. She glares at him yet again.

“Should I be offended, my love? I would never look another way; surely you know this to be true.” But his words don’t get him anywhere. She wouldn't accept his embrace.

Sigh. "Alright, I won't touch you. But would you tell me, please, darling? So that I may soothe your worries." I hate to see you cry.

"I dreamt that y-you chose someone else over m-me; t-that you l-left me—hic—just like that..."

Oh.

He listens patiently, giving his wife time to let it all out and calm herself.

“You are constantly at the receiving end of confessions after confessions. Letters, presents, barely veiled affection right in front of my eyes, even though we're married!"

It is true, Alucard has to admit. Ever since the establishment of Belmont Village, he had been somewhat popular. There are some that have been, for lack of a better word, persistent despite his martial status.

He nearly cringed. He had an inkling that those incidents bothered her but chose to downplay them in lieu of causing a rift. The idea of ever leaving her had always been ludicrous at best, but he realises now that he should have been doing a much better job of reassuring her. He should have been firmer in rejecting others' advances.

Alucard takes her hands in his, and this time she lets him. “I understand," he says. "I have gotten used to the attention as of late that I…" He shakes his head. "No, there is no excuse. I apologise. I would do better.”

He caresses her cheeks, tenderly wiping away new tears that are threatening to form before they could have the chance to break his heart in pieces.

“I want you to know that their words hold very little weight to me,” he whispers lovingly, staring straight into her eyes as if imploring her to see through him, to view the vastness of his love.

Then, he presses soft kisses just below her eye. “Hush now, sweetheart, please, my lovely wife… It pains me to see you this way.”

If she only knew just how little it takes for her to break his heart in two. Even before she gave herself to him, he’d wanted nobody else. Hearing her crying over something he considers utterly impossible… he should have been doing a much better job of proving himself to her. If anything, he’s disappointed in himself.

It’s only you whose love and affection cause a stomping in my heart, a magnitude of which I have never felt before, he wants to express but couldn’t find the right words to. It's only you whose very voice is enough to lift my spirit. How could I ever hope to replace this feeling? To love another? To abandon you would be akin to losing everything. Everything.

"I have everything I could ever want. I have you."

It is immutable truth. Just as the sun is bright and the nights are dark, I love you. I love you and I am yours.

“There’s only you, darling. I love only you.“

Alucard goes on to reason with her. “Have I ever given you cause to worry? When was the last time?”

When was the last time? He looks at her as if to challenge her. The very notion of him looking another way was almost laughable if his beloved wife wasn’t in agony over it.

“Don’t you make light of my commitment to you,” he tells his wife solemnly. How long has he to live? A thousand years, if not more, yet all of it he wishes to spend with her. It’s almost frightening, truly, the depth of his affection and adoration for this woman. His want—his need—for her runs so deeply it’s enough for him to believe it can transcend lifetimes.

The thought of being somewhere, anywhere, without her is frightening in and of itself. How was he to even ponder it?

“There is not a life in which I would ever abandon you,” he says plain and simple. The surest thing in the world.

“There is only you, my darling wife,” he says pointedly. “In any life, in any place, I would choose you.” In a heartbeat. Always. It’s only fitting, he thinks. For there was nothing before she came into his life.

“I’m sorry…” his wife mumbles, avoiding his eyes, looking adorably like a petulant child ashamed of her blunder. It makes him smile. Silly girl.

“It’s alright, please; you had a valid concern. And I don’t wish for you to misunderstand. I am not angry.” He opens his arms to receive her, to shield her. “Come here to me.”

This time, she tilts her face toward his like a sunflower to the sun, a pleased smile now etching itself onto her mouth. Alucard places a kiss upon it and captures her in his arms. Yours. All yours.

#yoo I’m losing my touch #but anyway hope you like it #adrian tepes #alucard #castlevania #alucard fahrenheit tepes #alucarddear writes #alucarddear requests #Alucard x reader #Adrian tepes x reader #Alucard fanfic

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amakumos · 4 months

Text

enhypen as f1 fans - headcanons.

SYNOPSIS. enhypen as f1 fans this is literally just it

GENRE. probably just crack

AUTHOR'S NOTE. this is literally just for fun and i love lando norris. lmk what else you would want to add if u like f1 and enha... let me know what types of fans theyd be... not tagging taglist in this cuz its not that serious of a fic

LEE HEESEUNG. ★

favourite team: aston martin

favourite track: spa-francorchamps

favourite driver: fernando alonso / lewis hamilton

heeseung also gives me the vibe that he likes red bull as well! i think he definitely wouldn't be mad if a rb driver won, but would prefer drivers from his favourite team

he's definitely gone to races before. occasionally buys paddock passes.

had the time of his life in the first half of the 2023 season when aston was good... after the upgrades (more like downgrades) he's been going through it...

but i think he'd still have hope.

the kind of guy to quit watching the race if his favourite driver dnfs

buys merch like a crazy person

loves fernando’s tiktok account with a burning passion. probably uses them as reaction memes in the gc

will lose his shit when fernando or lewis retires.

has a soft spot for oscar

bashes his head against the wall when his fav driver has a slow pitstop

the kind of guy to yell at the tv when the result outcome is terrible

"i'm never watching formula 1 again" he says when his fav doesn't make it to the points... and then proceeds to turn the tv back on the next race week

probably has a selfie with his fav driver (and probably cried a little bit after)

uses that video of fernando's celebration dance as a way to get out of awkward conversations

the first guy to like fernando's new tiktoks whenever they r posted

JAY PARK. ★

favourite team: mercedes

favourite track: circuit of the americas

favourite driver: lewis hamilton / sebastian vettel

honestly i feel like everyone in enha loves lewis

lost his shit when seb retired

i think he also likes nico rosberg as well. seems like a brocedes guy (he sheds tears every time someone brings brocedes up tho)

would sacrifice his right lung for another lewis hamilton win

would gladly help seb build his bee hotels in suzuka

paddock passes every time when he goes and watches f1.

probably has selfies with every driver that he likes

hes just a mercedes guy through and through

he's loyal to his team! if ur a mercedes driver, jay loves u AUTOMATICALLY.

probably died a bit on the inside when george and lewis had contact on turn 1 in qatar 2023

not a red bull fan. im sorry

but he sometimes thinks about turning into a red bull fan because life as a red bull fan is much less depressing compared to being a merc fan

misses the merc domination era

probably on f1twt and is famous there

people know him for having selfies w the drivers and always buying paddock passes. he's a rich guy what can i say

another guy who yells at the screen during a race

whenever merc has disappointing strategies he just sighs and thinks: "i could do a better job"

JAKE SIM. ★

favourite team: ferrari

favourite track: monza / monaco

favourite driver: charles leclerc

SOMEBODY SAVE THIS MAN????

he goes through it every single weekend. every weekend he is constantly disappointed by ferrari and at this point he is considering to quit watching f1

only cares about charles. loves that man with his life

he also likes oscar and danny ric as well, because they're australian

you know how every italian man is in love with charles? they post stuff on their story like "met my husband😍" and it's a pic of them and charles? that's jake. he is him

jake reminds me of that one fan who made charles a pizza and gave it to him in person. like that’s lowkey some shit that he would do

picks up on phrases that charles says. mainly "it's like this" ...

prays every single weekend for charles to get good results (he is always disappointed)

wanted to die when he saw charles' slow pit stop at the dutch gp in 2023... they had NO TYRES and jake threw the remote control at the screen

has charles merch. definitely bought the monaco special edition hat. probably buys apm monaco for charles too

he's definitely gone to races before. probably bought paddock once but he will never do that again his wallet was crying

was 100% in the crowd during charles' 2019 monza win. also shed tears during that moment

"BURN THE SF23" is the most tweeted thing on his f1twt account of the 2023 season

argues with sunghoon all the time over f1 because sunghoon is a red bull fan... but secretly they're literally lecstappen

in general jake would sacrifice his entire life for charles leclerc and... he's so real for that

PARK SUNGHOON. ★

favourite team: red bull

favourite track: zandvoort / red bull ring

favourite driver: max verstappen

the only one enjoying the 2023 season

because his favourite driver always wins

the only one in enha whos NEVER disappointed whenever a race happens

yells rlly loud whenever max wins (so basically every race weekend) and the rest of the enha boys just look at him like 😒

probably has like 5 red bull shirts in his closet and sleeps in them

defends max with his life. probably has a twitter account w the user onlyverstappen and you'll see him bashing the shit out of max haters

prob bought a max mini helmet. almost bought the max verstappen christmas sweater (hes a dedicated fan what can i say)

big maxiel fan. would sacrifice everything for a max and daniel pairing again because he thinks they're funny together

likes max bc of his humour as well

watches youtube videos about f1 like "every f1 driver getting mad at nikita mazepin" or like "funny f1 driver radio moments"

the kind of guy to save every max edit into his camera roll (hes in love what can i say)

started drinking red bulls because of his love for the team… he says it’s his way of supporting them

fan of liam lawson too. needs him to get a seat and he does not care with what team. he just needs to see that man in a f1 car ASAP...

has been to f1 races, bought paddock once to go with jay. max won that race and he never shuts up about how he saw max verstappen win with his own two eyes

has the same passion towards f1 as jake except he lives in a constant state of happiness due to red bull's dominance while jake lives in a constant state of depression

KIM SUNOO. ★

favourite team: alphatauri / williams

favourite track: singapore

favourite driver: yuki tsunoda / alex albon

big yuki fan. thinks his radios are funny

he's not too invested in f1 but watches occasionally

loves alex bc of how he's somehow able to drag a williams into the points

he's pretty quiet when he's watching f1 i feel

feels like the kind of guy to just sit on the couch and be like "hmm. good job" or like "oh. maybe next time..."

mainly bc his fav drivers and teams arent fighting for podiums or championships... but he hopes that they'll be able to someday

he's that one rlly lucky fan that could just be walking around in the same city as his fav f1 driver and just bump into them on the street

doesn't hate any team and doesn't hate any driver. he's a pretty chill f1 fan

the ONE time sunoo probably got pissed was when yuki was on his formation lap and his engine broke down... meaning he didn't start

wanted to punch smth because How in the World

probably bought one of yuki's mini helmets bc he thinks its cute. "good room decor" - kim sunoo 2023

probably has a yuki or alex cap but that's as much merch as he'll buy tbh

likes the yuki / daniel combo for alphatauri but also thinks nyck should've been given a bit more time

probably hasn't been to an f1 race in person... if he went i don't think he'd buy paddock unless one of the other members bought it and brought him along

keeps up w f1 news from twitter or from jake bc he never stops talking about how ferrari’s fucking up charles' strategy again

YANG JUNGWON. ★

favourite team: mclaren

favourite track: silverstone

favourite driver: lando norris / oscar piastri

no, i’m not just saying jungwon is a lando enjoyer just because i am (maybe a little bc i’m biased BUT)

they’re both just adorable so what can i say really

depressed at the beginning of the season when the mclaren boys were driving a fucking TRACTOR for a car

landoscar enthusiast. i don’t make the rules… he and jake remind me of landoscar kinda… like jake would be a lando and jungwon would be an oscar

would do anything (I MEAN ANYTHING) for a lando win… me too

mclaren 1-2? YOU BEST BELIEVE HE'S YELLING LIKE A MANIAC

spends money on lando merch (HOODIES!) and prob wears it bc the designs r insanely cool

sits in silence in the corner when it’s a bad race week for his faves… like he’s crazily silent to the point where it’s scary. it's giving eye twitches vibes

gets hyped for race week tho he’s the kinda guy to have every race logged in his calendar

makes maeumi watch f1 with him. unfortunately maeumi is not a mclaren fan much to his disappointment

if you hate lando or oscar he will hate you. defends them with his life and trust and believe me he will win.

is on f1twt, pretty well known on there (he just tweets random shit and gets 1k likes and hes like... Wtf)

attends races whenever he can, prob not paddock cuz he thinks it’s not really worth it bc of how expensive they are

used to mclaren being good now compared to the start of the season so he’s devastated when they’re not top 5

NISHIMURA RIKI. ★

favourite team: mercedes (ferrari later tho...)

favourite track: suzuka

favourite driver: lewis hamilton / yuki tsunoda / kimi raikkonen

lewis fan because he’s the goat, yuki fan bc he thinks he’s funny and bc they’re both japanese, kimi fan because well... hes KIMI

riki’s prob been invested in f1 since he was a kid, definitely the most involved / passionate w motorsports

probably watches other motorsport series too! pretty sure he’s talked about formula e, and i could see him enjoying indycar and motogp

yk how lewis released that collab w fortnite? riki prob bought the skin and plays as lewis in fortnite😭

loves roscoe!!! would want bisco and roscoe to meet tbh

wants lewis to win again SOOOO badly

prob has a picture with yuki and the height difference would be hilarious (yuki is 159cm)

i think he's a big fan of schumacher, senna, prost too, definitely been watching this sport for a WHILE!

in a complete state of SHOCK when it was revealed lewis would be going to ferrari

started learning italian on duolingo after the big announcement

has definitely been to a few f1 races (suzuka, silverstone & singapore are probably the ones he's been to)

a BIG ACCOUNT ON F1TWT

probably gets invited as a guest of his favourite teams n shit it's crazy he's practically an influencer there

would start an f1 podcast for fun and it would go viral

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beepboopkek · 5 months

Text

— Practice makes perfect (M!Reader)

Including: Dr.Ratio x AMAB!Reader afab version has been posted! cw: !! NSFW !!, amab!reader, established relationship, pwp but barely, you call him veritas, c0ck slapp1ng, 0rga$m d3n1al, c0ckwarm1ng, dr is kinda mean, light degradation , kind of left at a cliffhanger?? idk, a little short, reader is doing math w/c: 1.3k a/n: HELLO IM BACK WITH ANOTHER DRABBLE first time writing for someone other than Jing Yuan so sorry if its not that good ue ue ue im still learning </3 anywyas i somehow got to a 100 followers which is both exciting and concerning but yeag hope u guys like this :3 <3 NSFW BELOW THE CUT

“This simply won't do.”

Your boyfriend huffed in annoyance as your shaking hands continued to—(or well, at least tried to)— do the calculations for the question that shined brightly on the tablet resting on the table.

You couldn't decide whether to be mad at him or yourself for the predicament you were in currently.

— Sat prettily on his lap, your feet barely touching the ground and his cock kept snugly to the hilt inside your ass.

You exhaled shakily, your body shuddering as his fingers that were previously stimulating your cock had now disappeared.

“Another mistake. How disappointing, I excused the last one but, you really are testing my limits now.”

His head was over your shoulder as he tutted and eyed the screen, watching every move you made and deducing what was correct and what was not.

“Maybe, if you'd let me focus I could—”

– and suddenly, he raised his hand and landed a quick slap right onto the head of your cock.

Your body jerked in response as your words got cut off with a gasp.

His hand came back to make languid strokes on your cock, tapping the head gently as if he was trying to soothe the pain. His other hand that was wrapped around your waist gripped you tightly as he leaned forward, pushing himself at a deeper angle.

“If I hear another one of your remarks, things won't end well for you. Now, focus.”

You exhaled loudly in frustration as you forced your attention back onto the question, lifting the pen and continuing your calculations.

The both of you had been together for several years now, graduating from The University of Veritas Prime together— Your intellect was almost on par with his.

However, what you were doing now, though, was quite… questionable.

See, unlike him, you preferred the simpler life of teaching at a university. Getting into a guild or something of that sort had never really interested you. But, your boyfriend being… Well, The Veritas Ratio— he had his ways of convincing you to at least work on your mathematical skills to improve further the chances of you getting invited to the Intelligentsia Guild from the IPC.

So, he offered a simple solution.

Tutoring. One-on-one, of course.

“Another mistake.” His voice was low in your ear and you could almost feel the annoyance dripping from those words alone.

… Which snapped you back to the current situation- you were writhing on his lap with your stiff cock wrapped up like a present.

The bow was perfect— as all things are with Veritas Ratio. He had tied the red ribbon right at the base of your cock, denying you the relief of an orgasm yet, stimulating you constantly.

Fuck. You hadn't even registered what you were writing, your brain growing increasingly fuzzy with the way his cock pressed into your prostate.

He placed another slap onto your cockhead, your body jerking in response as your ass clenched around him

“Start counting, Let's see how long you can keep up, hm?”

“V—Veritas, do I really have to do t—”

Your body jerked as he landed another slap on your already tender cock.

“Address me properly.”

“Fuck— I'm sorry–”

You swallowed down your complaints, knowing it would result in only more punishment if you continued.

“That— that was three.”

Veritas smiled against your shoulder before pressing your hips into his and moving you just a little bit… but nowhere near enough. He kissed the shell of your heated ear,

“That's my boy, I knew you could do it.”

You moaned lightly as he gave slow strokes to your cock and, to your frustration— equally slow thrusts.

and then he took away the stimulation altogether— Your heated body simmering down into a somewhat uncomfortable yet pleasurable state.

“Come on now, let's continue. You still have the whole test left.”

You nodded shakily as you lifted the long-forgotten pen and started writing on the tablet.

This was the fourteenth question, sixteen more to go.

You managed to distract yourself enough to finish the question, The only sounds in the room were the quick taps from your pen and the occasional embarrassingly loud squelching noise from you that came as a result of Veritas moving to get more comfortable. As you finished, you waited with bated breath in hopes that he would say something.

“Is it—is it correct?”

Your boyfriend smiled before uttering a yes and leaning his head forward to kiss your cheek gently.

“Not bad… five points. So, you can be good for me, hm?”

Before you could respond, he spoke up again, “Complete the fifteenth question correctly and I'll consider letting you have an orgasm. How does that sound?”

“Please—”

A small tug to your cock.

“It was a rhetorical question. Continue.”

You nodded numbly as you willed every fiber in your brain to focus on the question.

Just as you were about to finish the last bit of the question you felt your boyfriend slowly beginning to move his hips again, lips attaching to your shoulder and neck— biting, kissing and licking as he pleased.

“Veritas— Aeons– Let me finish this, please.”

You realised your mistake a second too late, though.

Another slap, accompanied by a loud gasp escaped your mouth as you dropped the pen onto the table, your feet flexing as you processed the sudden mix of sensations that went through you.

“Count.”

Yep, you've just about crossed his limit.

“Four.”

You steadied your breathing again.

A few beats of silence pass by and you finally finish the fifteenth question. Your breathing picked up again as you awaited Veritas’ next move.

“Half an hour. That's how long you took to finish fifteen simple arithmetic questions.”

He did not sound happy.

Before you could defend yourself, He grabbed you by the waist and stood up, setting your upper body on the table as the digital tablet dissipated.

Your feet were off the ground at this angle, meaning that his strength was the only thing keeping you steady on the table.

Veritas pushed himself deeper inside you as you arched your back, draping his larger frame over yours as he leaned down to talk right next to your ear.

“What would people think, hm? An esteemed professor with seven doctoral degrees reduced to a slobbering mess because of me?”

You only whined in response, your brain had long turned into mush— unable to comprehend anything but him.

Neither you nor Veritas knew how you held on that long.

“Please— Sir– I did what you asked me to do.”

“I asked you to do 30 questions within half an hour. You managed only half of that.”

His voice was neither stern nor soft— just somewhere in between that you could only describe as– Veritas.

“I suppose, though, I did promise you that I'd consider granting you relief.”

Your face lit up at the thought of finally, finally getting your orgasm— The one that you had been denied for the past thirty minutes.

“Oh, such an adorable expression,”

You waited in excitement for him to remove the wretched ribbon around your dick only for a sound of confusion to leave your mouth as he gathered both your hands and pinned them on your lower back, gripping them with one of his own.

Veritas drew his hips back and thrust back in, moving you and the table ahead.

You moaned at the burst of pleasure, finally—

“Tell me the answer to number sixteen.”

Shallow thrusts that were just shy of your prostate.

Asshole.

You took deep breaths.

“I don’t— fuck- know the question—”

The digital tablet reappeared in front of you, the question glaring back at you as you whined pathetically.

You felt the hand on your hip moving down to squeeze the swell of your ass.

It was a warning.

Veritas planted his free hand into your hair and tugs, pulling your head back in a firm grip.

“Answer me.”