#not saying it Is that just that it Feels that way

[fumifooms]

Falin who cares too much and too little - analysis

Been stewing on Falin thoughts for a while, I know I have an interpetation on her that differs from many but I’m jumping into the fray. I think there’s a lot to be said about what we do see of Falin. This shorter Falin analysis I made is pretty much essential prior reading. This analysis mainly explores her complex relationship with caring and so it’s sort of structured in two halves, with Faligon at the crux of it all.

Falin cares too little :

A lot of people assign Falin a people pleasing mindset and I… Don’t agree. We never see her care at all about people in her town or at the academy not liking her.

We do see her worrying about what people think of her… ONCE. And Laios comforted her, told her they didn’t matter and she should be proud of herself. She latched onto that hard. That’s why this scene was so important to be included during the dragon fight, relationship-defining; it’s always been them against the world. She grew to not care what others thought, to only focus on her close loved ones. No one else matters.

Laios’ words were her world. Her older brother who taught her how to feel comfortable with herself, who told her, you’re great, others are the ones in the wrong to not see that, I’ll always be with you, always be there for you. Older brother who always made great plans, who always knew more, who was better at wrestling to name the dogs, who she has always idolized. Laios who always spoke of traveling the world, to which she always said she wanted to follow. And she would, she’d follow him even if it meant leaving the academy and all she knew behind, she’d follow him to the ends of the world, and that’s what she did.

She didn’t care about showing to her classes or keeping up such appearances, she doesn’t even think of toning down her jumping into bushes when Marcille recoils, etc. She acts like an obedient pawn often, to her parent’s directives and then following Laios around no matter what he decides to do, but I don’t think the motivation is people pleasing, rather it’s being with & caring for her loved ones, and her go-with-the-flow attitude enhances the impression. Not that it’s as simple as that, mind you, but let’s talk about this for now.

Falin is perceived as selfless because we, the audience, have our perspectives revolving around the main people in her life (Laios, Marcille). They’re the ones she’s devoted to and people who care about her back a lot too, but to people like her classmates or the towspeople she probably must have seemed like someone who didn’t care about the people around her or her surroundings a lot, who just went on alone and did her own thing.

What matters to Falin? From what place does her kindness come from? Is a part of her keeping up appearances? And I think that’s the point, the horror of Faligon as well, that we can’t tell just how in control Falin the person is as the chimera (because we are shown that she’s in there, we just don’t know at what degree), that we don’t know her enough to be able to tell when she’s at her most genuine, her most raw. That even if you do settle on none of her being present as Faligon, we have to at least consider it, consider that she may be able to do something like this and have a part in it, brutal and uncaring. That even the lenses we see her through, the people who love her, may be unreliable.

And this is what’s very interesting about her too, she truly is so idealized by people around her as a saint. She’s so good and kind and caring to everyone etc etc etc. Laios, Toshiro and Marcille all see her as the paragon of goodness in the world. More cynical characters like Namari and Chilchuck have more layered opinions on her, the latter finding her somewhat unnerving because he can’t read her well. But then with that one flashback scene we see that… Her priorities are intensely focused on Laios and Marcille, she doesn’t care all that deeply about anyone other than them (+ maybe her parents). The rest of the party is in the same danger here but only Laios and Marcille who she’s speaking to get the special ,ention, and if they don’t cross her mind then of course she’d be ready to sacrifice strangers through a risky teleportation. That doesn’t make her not kind or caring!! Just that greater good isn’t exactly her priority. Any means is alright if the end result is her loved ones safe, it usually takes the form of healing and caring, but we see she’s ready to fight and make dangerous calls too. To me there’s this aspect to her that she isn’t as pure and magnanimous as everyone thinks she is, both in-world and interestingly enough meta wise as well, and there’s something interesting to that.

People pleasing implies a need to be liked, needs for the motivation to be that. A yes-man, etc. But if we analyze Falin, her general kind, smiling demeanor is more a matter of passivity I yhonk. Conflict avoidance is easier, so she’s friendly and hopefully things’ll be smooth sailing. It’s easy to be kind to classmates even if they act wary and rude if you don’t care about what they think either way. Of course she prefers good things happening to people over bad things, she is genuinely kind, but I think people tend to assign her a very grand altruistic way of life when to her the motivation is pretty self-centered. She doesn’t do what she does because she loves them, but because she loves them.

One situation that’s interesting to dig into for her way of thinking, and what I’m trying to get at, is Shuro’s proposal to her. I’ve seen people saying she hesitated because she didn’t feel comfortable saying no even though she wanted to, "I can’t say no, I don’t want to hurt him", something that sounds sensible and familiar, but it’s actually canon in the Adventurer’s Bible that the reverse was the case, that she didn’t feel comfortable saying yes. Because the offer was tempting, but it’d have been a loveless agreement on her end. And it makes sense she’d want to say yes too, like we see with the Toudens, marriage is very much a political strategical economical thing in their village, there’s even a bit on it on Laios’ Adventurer’s Bible profile about dowries, and both siblings were engaged very early. They lived poorly for a long time, it’s an enticing idea to marry rich, to have not only yours but your brother’s needs met forevermore easily, which at one point in their careers was their main worry and goal. Why shouldn’t she accept a life of leisure and wealth handed to her by a lovely friend?

So her hesitance was "yeah that’s convenient for me, but where it’s everything to him and heartfelt I’m able to be detached because I don’t care about it that much… Can I do that? I’m not reciprocating, not saying yes in the way that matters. Can I do that to him?" Very caring even though it’s not what you’d expect, isn’t it?

And central to my analysis, where I’m going with this is, I feel like that’s the thing with her character, that she doesn’t feel as strongly as she "should" sometimes, or feels a different way than she "should", or at least that she feels that way and others say she does. She didn’t mind suddenly leaving the academy, leaving Marcille behind and not seeing her for 4 years. She acted like it was no big deal that she sacrificed herself after getting resurrected after the red dragon fight. And in both those cases it upset the people around her greatly that she didn’t seem to get why it was such a big deal, didn’t seem to care about how they’d experienced her choices.

So it’s a tendency… And it’s not that she doesn’t care, it’s just that the way she measures what’s good for the ones she loves isn’t the same as what they themselves think it is (like Laios and Marcille not wanting to be apart from her). It’s an overt but quiet kind of care, it’s doing things like following them around and making sure they bathe and have a meal, even if that means she has to be dragged into misery too.

So yes she probably would know "not caring enough/the right way" is one of her perceived flaws, and that informs how she tries to handle her response to Shuro’s proposal. Her not wanting to accept like her first gut instinct, is because she’s thinking about reciprocity, about if it’d be right to go into this knowing that they have different priorities and she might not be able to keep up with the type and amount of emotions he wants/expects from her. And that’s a big part of her character isn’t it, having expectations pushed onto her. Her trying her best, but in her own way that may seem odd or even unfeeling. Not unlike when she exorcised the ghost as a kid too, unblinking and matter-of-factly, and not seeming to understand why people stared the way they did.

Even though she answered his proposal only post-canon, she’d been pondering it for a while even pre-canon and the Adventurer’s Bible explanation was released midstory, so I’m hesitant to assign her much growth about her hesitation and what I went on above, since she still didn’t react "right" with Laios after the red dragon fight (even if she apparently doesn’t remember sacrificing herself) and put herself in that situation in the first place. She hasn’t finished her arc on that flaw of hers is what I’m saying, she for sure still has it, but I certainly think her thoughts on Shuro’s proposal shows awareness, both of herself and social.

And awareness is a big analysis key word with Falin, especially here it can be hard not to conflate not caring with not knowing. How socially aware is she? It’s rather layered, because canonically she wasn’t aware of her ostracization in her hometown at all, and we’re not sure if she knew Shuro was interested in her before he proposed, but she generally seems more socially aware than Laios. She tags along on his caravan job to make sure he isn’t being mistreated (though doesn’t ask he get a salary), she catches social faux-pas more easily like in the genderbend magic mirror omake with Shuro, and interestingly enough she’s very good at empathizing with her parents and understanding their perspective. We see when she’s worried about Marcille coming that she does know about propriety and how appearances shape impressions. Being a chief’s daughter must at least have taught her a thing or two on that front.

She never stands up for herself, but when it comes to defending others she worries, strategizes and explains.

And this sort of understanding is part of why I think she’d notice the expectations pushed onto her like I was saying earlier, notice how she makes people feel when she’s careless. But if she changes anything about herself in response to noticing is for her to choose, and generally I think it’s a sort of inbetween of yes and no: that she becomes more complacent but also more reserved, complying but by hiding more of herself passively. She’s not sure wether to accept or reject Shuro’s proposal, doesn’t want to lead him on? She’ll just be taking a while to silently consider it, try to keep things as they are for the time being. The third, less conflicting option. She doesn’t feel heard by Marcille who keeps infantilizing her? Just bear with it. Retract yourself emotionally. Settle for it.

We see that when she was young she had a tendency to not read a room, and I think that’s here too. She doesn’t get why her nonchalance upset others but that doesn’t change that she doesn’t want them upset or hurt, so she tries, albeit in maybe a roundabout way. She always had a hard time deeply connecting with people, often keeping herself some amount of emotionally distant: erasing herself from the equation, from the two-way trade that relationships are and making it a onesided thing instead, where all their needs and emotions are directed towards her but she only lets out a bit of her own show. She takes everything upon her and deals with it and tries not to give others this same burden, though not on a conscious level, it’s just that she’s learned growing up that she doesn’t have much agency.

Like I went into with my analysis linked at the beginning, I think Falin is used to just taking what she can get and not asking for more, when it comes to social bonds. She’ll take spending time with her mother no matter what it is they do, she’ll follow Laios to the graveyards and stick by him even when he’s pushing her away (because he doesn’t want her borrowing his book or "No copying!" or such). Her father was always distant, cold and uncommunicative, her mother was considered sick from anxiety and the exorcism attempts were the main way they spent time together, at dinner tables there were only her and Laios. The dogs picked on her too even if she loved them— And so did the townspeople, maybe that being normal to her at home is why she didn’t notice the ostracization she suffered.

She’s always been the last to be asked about decisions or what she wants, never asked to play with at recess, neither her father or Laios asked before sending her to the academy or leaving the village. At home, in the hierarchy she was considered to be below the dogs by the dogs themselves, as someone they can disrespect. Dogs learn from example and behavior, so this means Falin must have been pushed around a lot, and that the family didn’t try hard to rectify the dogs’ misconception, likely worsened by Laios regularly wrestling with her as a competition.

So for example when Falin showed Marcille food, it was her way to implicitly ask to have lunch with her without voicing that question, without daring to take up space. Someone’s presence isn’t something you ask for, it’s something that’s bestowed upon you, you can follow them around but you can’t ask them to stay or to come with.

She’s used to her needs and wants not being listened to, so she’s learned to have less wants. Caring less about herself, caring less about other people beyond her safe zone, was a defense mechanism in part. She has a sense of learned helplessness too, like how when Marcille came to take her away from Laios, even though she didn’t want to leave with Marcille it felt so determined and unshakable to her that whatever Marcille decided Falin would have to comply with.

And still, it’s the "marrying you would be awfully convenient if it wasn’t that I’d feel guilty for not loving you back, the way you wanted me to when you proposed to me" and the "I don’t regret leaving the academy and leaving you behind without goodbyes but I’m sorry that you’re so much more upset about it than me". It’s the guilt of not loving people back the way they want to be, with the same intensity or fervor.

It’s the autism it’s the aroace of it all, it’s the emotional stunting and confusion but the pit in your stomach telling you you did something wrong again. The no object permanence even for people you love even for 4 years, it’s the feeling like you’re somehow at fault for someone having fallen for you and not knowing what to do with any of it. I’m not joking btw it isn’t uncommon for autistic people to not see their close friends for a long while, not having missed them all that much and for that to be really hurtful for the other if they notice/ask about it. "Hiii bestie! Oh umm you’re uh more emotional about this than I expected, hopefully you won’t feel alienated by me not feeling as intensely about it…"

So… Yeah. I think she thinks of things and relationships in a different way than most people, and beyond "good things happening to people is good" I don’t think she actually cares about people all that much. I’d argue that Laios shows more desire to connect with others and make relationships. And just like with Laios and his own issues with humans, that doesn’t mean her kindness is a lie or ungenuine or worthless! It just means that like, well it’s pretty straightforward really, she’s not all that social and doesn’t see casual bonds as meaning all that much and whatnot. She does want to see people happy, but it’s not as much like… A conviction or goal. She’s too laser focused on a select few people. "It’s not that they’re bad people, they just aren’t interested in humans."

And sometimes it feels like people get defensive about Falin in a meta way too, like if you ever so much as imply Marcille isn’t her whole world or that she isn’t the kindest soul out there then you’re saying she doesn’t care at all or she’s evil. And that’s actualy exactly the sort of vibe I wanted to get through with my analysis above here actually haha, that she does care and she is kind but it’s not in a way that’s quantified or understood in a way that makes people feel comfortable. In a way, that makes people feel insecure because they don’t have the same logic as her, don’t show love the same. And I think this is another stellar depiction of autism, of parts of it that feels unpalatable to many, if I’m making sense. The fandom idealizes her as well, which isn’t uncommon or surprising for the character embodying the trope of the perfect beloved to rescue.

And disclaimer, as I said in the tags I feel like the details of Falin are pretty vibe based when it comes to analysis, there’s absolutely a valid angle where she does super care about everyone always, feel free to disagree with me on the overarching angle of my analysis. There’s enough supporting evidence to tip the balance either way I think, and the reason I’ve chosen this angle is I feel it’s more compelling for the themes in Dunmeshi of idealization and being different, of desires vs wants, and because I think it neatly ties up Falin’s character arc as I’ll go over throughout the next section…

So.

Not feeling as much as she should. And……. Is this not Faligon pushed to the max?

You can’t tie down a dragon. As the chimera, she gets to just not care about everyone else and be on her merry way.

Part of it I think is finding comfort and freedom in the mindlessness, in not having the burden of feelings and connections and a consciousness (despite still ending up seeking those in a stranger, Thistle). Like when she’s dead in the purgatory as well, she gets to just… Hang around and do whatever. Similarly to when she played in the forest instead of going to class in her academy days. That’s what freedom and peace of mind looks like to her. Why she decides to roam post-canon, if only now with the goal to find herself instead, with her mind in tow and somewhere to go back home to.

There’s excellent analytic framing out there about how of course, Dungeon Meshi has a big theme of grief and letting go, and… Falin was always a symbol narratively, idealized by characters and often underconsidered by them despite their love. It was Falin’s choice to sacrifice herself for Laios, she thought it was worth it, knowing that it would be her end. Her resurrection and the process of it intertwining her soul with a dragon’s wasn’t done with her consent, and the subsequent opening it gave her to become a chimera puppet. She’s stripped of her agency consistently, and so… It’s very noteworthy that the final choice, of wether to go back to life or to stay dead, in that purgatory scene, was up to her. And she chooses life, but I do think about her in those fields and how at home she seemed there. Peaceful, by herself in a vast calm expanse she could explore, free.

Personally, I think freedom is Falin’s own subconscious selfish desire. And though to us becoming the chimera is obviously a shackle, I think it felt like freedom to her somewhat, too.

And if you think I’m going wildly off the rails here I want to talk about Laios’ wish of becoming a monster. And to be clear before getting into it, being mentally a monster is absolutely a big part of the appeal for Laios, it’s something that’s consistently referred to, something especially pointed out in the werewolf monster tidbit with Lycion. Right panel is from that, but left panel is from the extra with Izutsumi where Lycion talks about suppressing souls in a beastkin body, the human or the beast soul.

Finding comfort and freedom in being mindless, less sentient, less aware? While being unaware in her hometown might have saved Falin a lot of heartache although perhaps stunted her emotional growth, it’s always been Laios’ curse.

Actively, through his choices, he seeks to grow closer to people, to form deeper bonds, to understand and be undertood, but… On a deep seated level, what he desires is to leave humanity and civilization behind. He has an irrational hatred for humans, born from the trauma of ostracization, being different, being beaten up and rejected consistently through his life. Running away from problems is easier. He wants to be free from being a social animal from a social species who has deemed him the black sheep, he thinks it’d be simpler to just leave it all behind, people and his own humanity. At its core, to Laios becoming a monster is a power fantasy, a coping daydream of "if only I could be strong enough to never be hurt again, the power to destroy anything I want, the power to go somewhere better, if only it was possible for me to never feel hurt again. If only I could be someone, something, that can never be hurt". "If there’s someone you don’t like, you can gobble ‘em up in one bite. If you could fly, you’d be able to leave this village right now." It’s a childhood fantasy, from a deep sense of being misplaced and a desire to be able to stand fearless, thinly covering up resentment that Laios represses.

But you’ll notice, when the Winged Lion is enticing him in the last page, even now with his lifelong wish of becoming a monster on a silver plate, he still cares about his friends. He still has that sense of responsibility to his friends, doesn’t want to leave knowing they’ll be in danger and alone. The offer that his friends may be left unharmed is already good, but Laios also visibly flinches when the Winged Lion offers to specifically care after Marcille and rid her of her biggest fear. Laios’ care runs that deep. Not unlike with the succubus, he resists temptation until he gets reassured that everyone will be okay. But see, what he desires isn’t to stand alongside Marcille until her last days, it isn’t to stay and see how well his friends will live, it’s to go. It’s to leave. It’s to fly away, a monster both in body and mind. He wants to be free from caring here, wants to not have to worry about his friends, wants to just go do his own thing, but for that he needs to feel safe in the belief that said friends will be safe even without him being there to see it, because despite everything else he cares, he does. It’s again that dichotomy about caring and wishing you didn’t, or not caring and wishing you did.

In the end, it’s Falin who achieves that wish. Both by becoming a chimera during canon, and by going traveling post-canon. In the latter, being both free of human relationships as something chaining you while still being uplifted by them, by the knowledge that there are people out there you love and that love you. It’s a theme that can also be connected with Marcille, because she gets anxious over people she loves getting out of her sight, worrying they’ll get themselves killed, that time is passing while they’re away from her. But before she can get to the point where she can both have her freedom and being uplifted by her social bonds, regaining both her individuality and her connections, she has to get a taste of just one at a time. Before they can find balance in her life, she has to see what it’s like to have what she’s never had on its own. Unapologetic freedom, and power.

No one can blame you for not caring enough or caring right if you’re a fricking dragon!!!! You make the rules when you’re a beast and you can just… Fly away. From anywhere, from anything. And if a dog bites you you can just crush it. Instead of being pushed around by the dogs because you’re at the bottom of the hierarchy, you’re now at the top, the one with the power to be heard and do what you want without consequences.

I think she’s on autopilot. I think she’s on autopilot a lot of the time, even before being a chimera, and it’s partly why her will is so weak compared to regular dragons. (Again, read my shorter analysis.) It’s familiar to slip back into the role of following someone around unquestioningly. And that’s what is weaponized when she’s a chimera, that instinct she’s been nursing all her life to unconditionally support, defend and follow someone. Only now, that someone doesn’t matter in itself, only the symbol of it. She doesn’t mind, either way is fine. Her will is weak after all, because she’s trained it to take as little place as it could.

Falin cares too much

She spends all her time caring for Laios and Marcille alternating that none of her care and emotional energy is left for others, including herself. So she had to get relieved of all of that for a bit, becoming the chimera so she could reset and recenter and remember that she, too, indeed, is there and an important part of her own life.

So you’re probably seeing the duality I’m talking about here, Falin is very self-sacrificial but for specific people in ways that they often don’t recognize or appreciate. She cares but selectively, both in people, putting all her eggs in the same baskets, and in the ways she cares after them. She doesn’t care a lot, but when she does she cares a lot. Falin doesn't have a lot of earthly attachments, but when she does, they're her world.

In canon her arc, especially post-canon, is to grow beyond Marcille and Laios. Her caring for her close loved ones held her back from looking after her own self-fulfillment needs. And this is what I mean when I say she cares too much; she could gain from caring more about the world besides Laios and Marcille, both lands wise and people wise. She cares too little, but her arc centers her flaw around caring too much instead. Her pitfalls that Kui highlight over the course of the story, while of course her selflessness is appreciated for how she saved Laios and everyone, on a personal level is shown to be self-effacing and damaging. She’s undermined by Marcille, without the courage to voice her thoughts and wants, she would dedicate her whole life to Laios. And I mean, it’s text, in the response to Shuro’s proposal extra no less. And she’s so laser focused on her most loved people that she’s fine with being callous and risking others’ lives, even.

Post-canon, she needs to leave to find herself, away from them.

Herself. What if she wants to just be with herself for a while.

And this is me reaching but I feel like, not unlike Izutsumi who learns to feel this sense of never being alone, always having someone on your side what with having two souls, the dragon in her would make her consider herself more. She finds it easier to care after other people after all, and in the purgatory fields sequence she takes care to bring the bit of dragon left with her… Not unlike with Izutsumi, having two souls forces you to think about your identity and figure yourself out. Besides being this sort of duo now, where if she wants to care after herself she can channel it to that other side of her too… In meta dragons are symbols of greed, and I think the bit of dragon would push her to want more and listen more to her desires, primal and self-serving as they might be. The dragon soul which warped her human body with feathers and draconic features, her image of perfection marred, her weirdness externalized in a way that’s not palatable. But she doesn’t care, about if her appearance is palatable for most people, she hasn’t for a while now, and that’s great.

Notes & nuance

I’m struggling with the structure of this post, making my points organized, concise and strong at once. It’s difficult to make any statement without going "things are generally like this, but there’s this time that this contradicting thing happened too" or "it’s ambiguous enough that you should just follow my interpretation for the time of this analysis" haha, so this is the pit where I put all the stuff that wouldn’t fit well in other places but are interesting for Falin’s character. This section is pretty separate from the main thesis of the post, it’s just more Falin observations. The post has reached the 30 pics limit so I can’t just pull it up whenever it’s relevant but I really encourage scrolling up to read the stuff I highlighted in her Adventurer’s Bible profile if you haven’t already.

I think with the shy-looking loner type autistic kid archetype, and knowing she didn’t seem to mind others ostracizing her, it’s easy to lose sight of how she was by no means an unemotional child. In all the bits we see of her as a kid she’s bursting with energy and emotions. Canon confirms Laios leaving the village did affect her and make her lonely and she cried a lot, too. She may not be social in the traditional sense, but she was clingy with her brother, and she also never was all that shy about who she was, wearing her heart on her sleeve.And okay. Okay okay okay. Speaking of appearances. About what I said of her not caring about what people think of her, even seeming defiant with the caravan leader… There’s one istanxe of her caring actually, and it’s about how her face blushes easily. I remembered it as being because Laios’ said it and as I rambled Laios’ words are her world, but actually it’s ambiguous. It’s only Marcille imagining up this scenario where Laios says Falin looks weird because of it, there’s no evidence Laios said or thought that at any point. And on the other hand…

Her Adventurer’s Bible says: "5, Lovely Skin. She isn't particularly careful with it, but Falin's skin is fair and beautiful. Possibly as a result, her cheeks seem to flush easily. Marcille's always saying she's cute, and she secretly has a sizable complex about it." The phrasing makes me think the complex she has over her blushing might have developed because of Marcille more than Laios. "Marcille's always saying she's cute, and she secretly has a sizable complex about it." It could be related to how Marcille gets swept away and infantilizes her, calling her cute wanting her to wear cute feminine outfits etc. Again this feels like it relates to Falin’s struggle to be seen for who she is and what she wants to be seen as, her struggle to be recognized, having ideals and perspectives pushed onto her. Here Falin is insecure over her blushing implicitly because she doesn’t like being called cute over it, but that’s not how she wants people to see her. She doesn’t want Marcille to always see her as her 10 years old adorable friend. Like if your friend said you had puppy energy, it can be flattering, but it can also make you insecure.

Here’s a link to what I mentioned about her being uncomfortable wearing feminine outfits. It does seem to be more about comfort than the aesthetic perse, to me. Interestingly the shirt & shorts don’t seem like they show much more skin than her beach outfit, so maybe it’s more about the shirt and shorts being tight-fitting. Like the skirts and heels they feel stifling. Again a bit with themes of freedom and not wanting an aesthetic pushed onto her. So yes just to reiterate, I think this is more about self-affirmation and how her identity and self-image gets shown to others, rather than wishing to hide parts of her body like her blushing etc for people pleasing reasons. Makeup was a way for her to appear how she wants to and feel more confident. It was a way to take control over her own image. She didn’t keep doing it, the narrator stating the process to be ‘troublesome’. Ultimately she still prioritizes her comfort, and it was a lot of recurring efforts to go through.

And on the topic of appearances… A friend once asked me: "Does she really hide herself or not? I keep thinking about "falin is herself first and foremost" (in her Adventurer’s Bible profile) it’s just so. Hmmmmmmmm... I just keep seeing people say she hides her real self from people when I feel like the issue is more about her charitable traits straying too far into becoming flaws but people around her dont realize that..."

Imo the thing is, I don’t think she hides her identity, but I do think she suppresses her individuality for others’ sakes if that makes sense. In the way that only post-canon does she allows herself to go see what the world is like, but that’s not personality wise it’s needs and wants wise. And I do feel like that’s the closest interpretation of canon, she says it herself she doesn’t know what she wants because everything she’s done was always about Laios or Marcille, but she doesn’t change her demeanor or personality for others. But she *will* like, not ask for things she wants directly, like sharing lunches with Marcille at the academy, she suppresses her wants, doesn’t ask things from people and doesn’t hope for more, hope for better. I don’t think we ever see her actively repress her personality, except like what, being more laidback than enthusiastic but I do feel like unlike Laios with her it’s less ‘appearing stoic to fit in more’ and more ‘yeah i’ll just chill until I’m needed or something activates my enthusiasm’.

And speaking of passivity… I want to speculate about Shuro’s proposal some more. Shuro and her got along well though we don’t know how much, or how often they hung out, she even saved him from a nightmare. Why did she take so long answering Shuro’s proposal? Was it an effort to preserve or was she really just that conflicted? Procrastination probably yes, but what is the core motivation of itl Considering she ended up saying no to travel the world instead, I don’t think it was as simple as ‘she wanted to say yes for convenience’. Logically it’s what would have been best, but it’s not what she wanted for herself, but it was and still is hard for her to even know what she wants. Probably, since like she states it was a great offer and she doesn’t think she’ll get proposed to again, it’s that self-effacing tendency that yes it’d be convenient and logical, and that makes her want to say yes even if her spirit isn’t in it, because if it’s convenient then that’s more important than her feelings on the matter.

AND speaking of passivity!!! How much Falin is "there" as the chimera, just how much she’s master of her actions, is left ambiguous and intentionally so imo, but she’s for sure there & influencing the dragon’s action to some degree. Having a dragon’s foot on her in purgatory that keeps her from moving for sure visualizes how it must have been like, but there’s Falin calling out to her brother Laios, there’s the kind attentions towards Thistle that are so Falin-like, and most explicitly there’s the Adventurer’s Bible stating "Even after becoming a chimera, she has a soul that's as kind as ever", which I honestly dislike, a fantranslation puts it as "Even as the chimera, her caring nature remains" and either way to me it feels like confirmation that it’s her giving those berries to Thistle. Now, wether or not she has the mental capacity of a chicken or something closer to human Falin, no clue, there has to at least be some kind of mind bond between monsters and the dungeon lord, compelling or forcing them to go along with orders, or calling her to him in distress like with the fight on the first floor. But yes, it’s interesting to wonder what it is that a Falin, with her kind soul but without her human mind, would willingly do. On her profile, she’s described as Thistle’s guardian and servant. The power dynamic between the two are very interesting, I already went into how it might have felt like freedom to her while being fake so I’ll reign myself in and just mention it again. She’s still at the heel of someone, only now it’s someone who doesn’t care about her back. Going from being cared for so strongly that it’s suffocating and they would defy death and the world for you, to being devoted to someone who has not one feeling about you besides your utility as a paw . She has all this care to give and to focus onto others and he has none to send back to her and I think that’s part of it. In a way, being left with only her own feelings and a void, without expectations or feelings or ideals pushed onto her, it might have been soothing in itself, and eye opening. But yes the way I think of it, her care for Thistle isn’t unlike the care she gives the ghosts.

Interestingly, the care she extends for the ghosts is sending their soul to a peaceful death, freeing them, of life and any earthly attachment. Take that as you will with the themes of freedom and burden of life and mind, immortality and becoming a warped version of who you were, and such and such.

But going back on the topic of connections and bonds for a bit, I think academy days Falin & Marcille is super interesting bc we’ve never really see Falin form a connection besides with Marcille and even that is kept pretty ambiguous. When was the point that Falin started seeing Marcille as a friend and seeking her out? When was the "I’ll lay down my life for you" point? I’m so fascinated by how she wanted to share lunches with Marcille but never truly asked, only made little "hey want this? I found it isn’t it cool?" gestures of showing things to her… It’s the only way she knows to ask, or maybe it’s the only way she feels comfortable to. In all the scenes of young Falin and Marcille Falin seems comfortable in her friendship with Marcille, but at the same time… I think we see Falin at her most insecure around Marcille, because she really does care about Marcille and what she thinks of her so much, and while Marcille is a bit of an unstoppable force tornado style (affectionate) Falin is something of a doormat. I’d usually say showing her berries was her earnest way to connect and be like "Hey bestie look at this! :]" , but there’s a real possibility that she was self-conscious and holding herself back.

Friendship and Marcille! Involving Laios into this too but, again with the autism thing of not showing you care in ways that others understand, Marcille being very overtly affectionate and clingy was so so soo important… Marcille keeping on hanging out with Falin and caring after her, and being undeterred/unbothered by Falin not always seeming like she cares all that much back in the conventional way, as in Falin acts nonchalant and a bit like she didn’t mind wether she was there with her or not during her outings to the cave dungeon. Caring and being clingy and so affectionate despite that in such a classic Marcille way is soo needed, because so often people will get discouraged by say, their friend not keeping in contact regularly/well, seeming disaffected or as happy-go-lucky as ever even if you haven’t seen each other in a while or when they’re alone, and yes there’s potential for a strong friendship there but someone like Falin won’t be committed enough to reciprocating attention the same way… I hope I’m making sense but yes this angle in particular strongly correlates to autism. And the way Marcille always initiates physical affection, both Toudens being awkward about initiating touch because they don’t know if that’s allowed, if they’re going about the social interaction the right way, if they’re allowed to ask that out of someone…

Another fun observation to make is about the 4 years Falin and Marcille spent apart. Marcille despite being of a long-lived race treated these 4 years of separation with more gravity than Falin did. Falin brushed it off very dismissively to say the least. But then you remember that the amount of time Falin and Laios didn’t see each other after he left the village was 8 years. Double the years, double the time. And that reminder makes Falin’s actions so starkingly understandable. Of course she wouldn’t see 4 years of separation as a long time if 8 years of separation with her beloved brother is her point of comparison. Of course she’d see it as worth it to leave Marcille for 4 years if it meant ending those 8 years instead, especially if she was worried about him (the reason why she followed him into his caravan job).

A friend always says that while Falin is the center of Marcille’s world, Laios’ is at the center of Falin’s, and I tend to agree.

It’s fun to think of how her career dreams had always been shaped by Laios, even when they were kids. Of course there’s how traveling the world began as a dream they talked about and shared, but there’s how he reassures her by listing cool jobs she could do like traveling exorcist, etc. And then of course, she gave up on her magic academy and career path to follow him and do odd jobs, etc etc.

I should go into the violence of Faligon more tbh, because I think there’s an interesting parallel to how she has no problem wacking things with a mace, wether a ghost when she was a kid or a walking mushroom as an adult. Something that often surprises fans when they remember, I don’t really want to get into the whole " Falin hates violence and hates seeing people in pain to an intense degree. ‘If you die do it somewhere where I can’t see’ style’ interpretation, it has some weight but on the whole I don’t vibe with the theory she has a particular aversion to violence, she seems to be fine resorting to it as much as any other adventurer as long as it isn’t needlessly against ghosts. And Falin’s sudden mace hits are fun to me too because it’s not her becoming a berserker when the need arises as much as her becoming active because something she cares about is threatened, and that brings her out of her passivity from 99% of the rest of the time. Thistle included. Falin always could be violent, she just dislikes senseless carnage. The Shuro party vs chimera fight is a bit ambiguous on it, because you can argue she only attached after being provoked, presumably offscreen as well while the ninjas went off to fight the harpies. Falin becomes the most active when she needs to protect someone, she has no qualms doing whatever’s needed for that, wether it be leaving the academy & Marcille without notice no matter the consequences or what her parents think, or teleporting the party, etc

I’m working on a post specifically pointing out all the differences between Falin and Laios, but yes I think both of them selfishly desire freedom in different yet similar ways. Falin’s dark secret is "Ethics and risks are optional if it means I can protect those I love" like the teleportation, and Laios’ is "Ethics and risks are optional if I can be free of all this bullshit" aka humanity aka his wish with the winged lion.

Conclusion

Tldr: Falin doesn’t care all that much, she’s very go with the flow. For example if someone hates her she doesn’t really care because that’d require her caring about what they think of her in the first place, and she only cares about her loved ones. She smiles, but it’s more a state of being rather than out of active goodness: she’s canonically very genuinely kind, but it’s more out of a general want for pleasantness than active care itself. She’s passive, and softspoken because that’s just how she seems, but she has no problem hopping into bushes or getting heated if something calls to her enthusiasm or calls for action and a hit of the ol’ mace. Her loved ones needing tending or protective is what makes her go from passive to active. That familiar autopilot mode of making someone the center of her world and following their every move is what made her so easy to be controlled as the chimera, even ferociously defending him with her life. Faligon is most interesting to me with the theme of freedom. She’s shackled to Thistle and out of her mind, but there’s also a sense of empowerment and freedom from expectations and society. She spends all her time caring for Laios and Marcille alternating that none of her care and emotional energy is left for others, including herself. So she had to get relieved of all of that for a bit, becoming the chimera so she could reset and recenter and remember that she, too, indeed, is there and an important part of her own life. There’s a way of caring after others that can be selfish, not unlike Marcille being overly coddling and not listening to Falin. In Falin’s case, I think it was so selfless that it ended up looping back around to erasing her sense of self. In losing sight of herself, that devotion becoming neither quite selfish or selfless but a fact of life and a state of nature, muddled by its lack of direction.

She’s sooo used to never being able to ask things out of others, you get the crumbs of affection and approval that others offer to you unprompted and that’s it don’t hope for more don’t ask for more. (Also reflected in how she follows her loved ones around without complain or personal opinions and how she’s not willing to rock the boat and affirm herself in her relationships like with Marcille during canon)

Falin cares so much, so much and so laser focused on her few loved ones that it blinds her and she loses sight of everything else, she ends up neglecting herself and the rest of the world. As Kui puts it, Falin is herself first and foremost. She just had to remember the importance of that.

-

I see her as an enneagram 9, which can be surprisingly accurate and fun to research through the lense of Falin. Excerpt below from this book, but like my god, good way to put it

That’s it, ty for reading. Even if it’s a bit of a mess, hopefully you’ll have gained a thing or two from it. Falin is a character hard to pin down, but it is very gratifying when you find the way that the puzzle pieces fit together right for your own understanding of the story. Fantranslation of the shuro proposal comic by @/thatsmimi here.

Here’s my spotify playlist for her if you’d like

Sometimes love is about letting go, a lesson a lot of the cast needed to learn. Self-love’s important too, and just like with diets we need a healthy balance.

[sapphire-writes]

Beyond The Play

college!Art x college!Reader

summary: Tashi needs some time alone with her man, which leaves you without a room for the night.

word count: 3.8k

rating: mature/explicit/18+

warnings: alcohol, fingering, dry humping, p in v sex with a condom, light praise, titty sucking, there's only one bed oh no!!

a/n: thanks for all the love on my first Challengers fic! hope you enjoy this one!

“You are so fucked,” Art says, taking another sip of his beer.

“Shut up.”

“He’s right,” Tashi agrees, sighing heavily, glancing at her cards.

You’re all sitting on the floor of your and Tashi’s dorm room, half-empty beer bottles littering the floor between you. You’d been playing poker for the past hour or so, swindling more of Patrick and Art’s money. It’d become a Friday night habit of yours, card games and beer with Patrick and Art. Patrick was always a maybe, he only came to visit his girlfriend a couple times a semester. 

But you, Art, and Tashi were always a solid trio. Tashi and Art had met through tennis of course, and you had met Art through Tashi after rooming with her freshman year of college. You’d become fast friends, and roommates for the next several years. You got along with Patrick well enough, you had to once he and Tashi started dating.

You could tell that had been a sore spot for Art, at least for a while. You’d suspected he’d had a thing for Tashi, and fire and ice hadn’t been the same since. You’d once asked Tashi about it and she’d only shrugged. Even though she was with Patrick for now, you knew Tashi had only one true love. 

Whatever Art felt for Tashi was easily molded into friendship, and the three of you became nearly inseparable. Which was good, even if you may or may not have developed some feelings of your own for the blond tennis player. 

But your friendship was more important. Those feelings could be pushed aside.

“God damn it,” Patrick curses, “I fold.”

Tashi snickers, revealing her cards and Patrick swears once more. 

“I need a smoke,” Patrick says, standing and leaning across Tashi’s bed to the open window.

“Oh no you don’t,” Tashi says, standing at lightning speed, “Outside, we are not getting in trouble for this.”

She grabs Patrick by the shirt collar, dragging him off the bed. He dramatically chokes, but lets her drag him towards the door.

“Art come on,” Patrick insists, reaching for his best friend.

“What? No, I wanna stay,” Art says, sandy hair falling in front of his eyes, “You don’t need a babysitter—”

“Yes I do,” Patrick insists, “C’mon five minutes, I swear.”

The boys tumble into the hall and you can hear their voices fading as they make their way outside. You stand from the floor, gathering up some beer bottles, and folding up the empty pizza box.

“Hey, d’you think you could sleep somewhere else tonight?” Tashi asks, brown eyes wide, “It’s Patrick’s last night, and y’know we really haven’t had any alone time.”

Your chest constricts at the thought. You totally get where she’s coming from but, it’s your room too. The thought of sleeping in the common area is less enticing. 

“Or at least just for a couple of hours,” Tashi backtracks, seeing your expression, “Just so we can—”

“Yeah, Tash it’s fine,” you tell her, swallowing your annoyance. Tashi’s been nothing but thoughtful and kind as a roommate, and friend. It’s an inconvenient favor, but nothing crazy. “I’ll get out of your hair for a couple of hours.”

“You’re the best,” she says, kissing your cheek, “Seriously, I owe you one.”

“You sure do,” you tell her, “I expect full payment for this.”

“Do you mean a trip to the movies with slurpees and popcorn?” Tashi asks, raising her eyebrows. 

“With extra butter,” you clarify and point at her, “You’re not cheaping out on me.”

“I’d never,” she insists, feigning seriousness before breaking into a grin. 

You finish helping Tashi clean up and begin your excommunication from your room. Walking down the hallway you bump into Patrick and Art on their way back from Patrick’s smoke break.

“What’re you doing out here? You start smoking?” Art asks as Patrick keeps walking past you, picking up the pace, “Hey where…”

“Party’s over,” you tell him, as Patrick turns the corner, eager to return to Tashi now that she’s alone.

Art frowns, confused.

“But we were—”

“Art,” you cut him off and place your hands on his shoulders, shaking him slightly, “Party’s over. Unless you’re eager to be a third.”

Art’s cheeks flush and he glances away, forcing out a laugh. Something tugs at your heart watching his half-smile appear. 

“Uh yeah ... .no thanks,” he says and you pat his shoulders before releasing them, “Wait but where are you going to go?”

You shrug, “I haven’t thought that far ahead.”

“You can’t just wander around campus, it’s like 2 am,” Art says, beckoning you with his hand, “Come back to my room, at least till they’re done.”

“Really?” you ask, “Cause if you’re tired I can just—”

“Don’t be silly,” Art says, poking your shoulder, “C’mon.”

Art’s room is in a separate building on campus, about a five-minute walk from you and Tashi’s building. Art is lucky enough to have a single; you’d been there a handful of times before class or practice. He keeps his room neat, aside from some clothes scattered on the floor from quick changes before practice. You smile as he hurriedly picks them up, throwing them into a hamper in his closet.

His bed is unmade, navy sheets messy as though he’d just woken up. 

“Sorry bout the mess,” he says, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck.

“I’m not judging, you’re cleaner than most guys I’ve met,” you tell him and he laughs. 

Suddenly, it hits you how late it is, sleepiness hitting you like a train as you yawn. This triggers Art’s yawn and the pair of you stand awkwardly in front of each other. 

“Um,” Art says suddenly, “It’s late.”

“Yeah,” you agree, stomach sinking, “I can just—”

“You should stay.”

You’re silent at that. You stare at him, as he nervously plays with the hem of his t-shirt, waiting for your reaction. You’re not sure what to say. It’s fine, right? Just a friend, helping out another friend.

A friend whom you have a big fat annoying crush on.

“I mean….it’s just late and you’re tired and who knows when they’ll be done.”

“I don’t have anything with me,” you tell him, voice sounding softer, meeker than you’d like.

“Oh, here I got you,” he says, walking to his dresser. He shuffles through the drawer a moment before revealing a shirt and clean boxers, “Just did laundry today. You can….you can change in the bathroom. I even have an extra toothbrush.”

You roll your eyes at that, taking the clothes from him. 

“Okay,” you agree.

“Bathroom’s right there.”

You nod, quickly making your way across the room and into the bathroom. You close the door and quickly change, finding Art’s spare toothbrush unopened in a goodie bag from the dentist shoved into a spare drawer. You quickly wash your face, brush your teeth, and change into his clothes. The shirt is baggy, with Stanford Men’s Tennis written across the front. It smells like him, like his detergent and his cologne and you can’t help but greedily inhale.

When you exit the bathroom, Art dips in, leaving the door open as he brushes his teeth. You place your clothes in a pile on his desk, awkwardly waiting for him. When he emerges, he’s wearing only his boxers and a gray t-shirt.

“I’ll take the floor,” Art says, his face turning beet red, “You can have the bed.”

“Art no,” you insist, “It’s your room. I’ll take the floor, it’s only fair—”

“Yeah that is not happening,” he says, satisfied smirk on his face, “Tashi’d kill me if she found out I made you sleep on the floor.”

“We could…..” you wet your lips, struggling to get the words out, “We could share the bed?”

Art watches you, his eyes wide. You watch his Adam’s apple bobs as he contemplates your question. Suddenly your pulse quickens, and embarrassment floods your body, and your face flushes. You turn away from him, scooting onto the bed.

“I mean only—”

“—if you’re comfortable,” Art finishes and you shut your mouth. You both giggle at the overlapping sentences.

“Yeah, I’m comfortable, Art,” you tell him, patting the space beside you, “Come on.”

Art moves onto the bed and you push closer to the wall. He’s so close when he lies down beside you, stretching his arm above your head. You’ve grown accustomed to the moonlit room and at this distance, you can almost count each eyelash that frames his blue eyes. 

“Is this okay?” he whispers, minty breath wafting over your face, making your head spin.

“Mhmm,” is all you can manage as the heat of his body warms you under the covers.

He’s silent then and you lay there for a moment, watching each other, listening to your shared breathing. Art chuckles then.

“What?”

“It’s just…” he trails off, “Nothing, it’s silly.”

“What is it?”

“You’re the first girl I’ve shared a bed with,” he admits, shyly glancing away from your gaze.

“Art Donaldson,” your tone is teasing, “I find that rather hard to believe.”

“It’s true,” he insists, brows furrowing together, “I mean….I’m not saying—wait” he wets his lips nervously, “I’m not a virgin—”

Your eyebrows raise, a smile curling at the corner of your lips. No, you did not doubt that. 

“Not that anything’s wrong with that, I just—wait and not to imply—”

“Art!” you cut him off, reaching forward and pressing your fingers against his lips, “I’m kidding. Don’t freak out.”

“M’not,” he mumbles, lips moving against your fingers.

“I’m fucking with you, Donaldson,” you whisper, taking your hand back, “I know you’re a gentleman.”

“Thank Christ,” he says with an exaggerated exhale causing you to giggle once more. He watches you, a smile on his face, eyes flickering to your lips.

Your face heats up as he wets his lips. Suddenly, nervousness flutters in your belly, and your heart flutters in your chest.

“Goodnight,” you tell him, turning away from him to face the wall.

You wait for his response, hoping he’s not disappointed. Disappointed about what, you’re not sure. 

“Goodnight,” he says softly and you close your eyes.

You wake up early. Birds are chirping outside the window, golden sunlight is beginning to bleed into the room, and Art’s chest is smushed firmly against your back. His arm is curled around your middle, hand splayed under your shirt and on your tummy, face buried in the crook of your neck. He’s so warm, his presence so comforting, you just want to close your eyes and melt back into him. 

Art groans in his sleep, moving his hips slightly and your eyes snap open.

Oh, Art.

He’s pressed firmly against your backside, rock-hard, hips unconsciously grinding against you. Your mouth falls open slightly feeling him against you, the hard outline of his cock bullying against your ass. Art groans again, hand on your stomach pushing you closer to him.

A breathy sigh escapes you and your head falls back against him slightly. 

“Art,” you breathe, answered with another groan, this one edging on a whimper. His hips gyrate, cock pressing against you with need, “Oh God…”

You swallow, breathing becoming more shallow. Your pussy clenches, and you can feel the growing wetness in the boxers Art had lent you, thighs pressing together desperate to relieve some of the pressure.

“Art wake up!” 

Art wakes with a start, head pulled from your shoulder. You can’t see him, but you feel him tense, the warmth of his body ripped from yours as he lurches backward, right off the edge of the bed. He falls with a yelp, hitting the floor with a loud thud. You sit up turning toward him. 

“Fuck!” he says, scrambling to sit and hide his erection, “Shit, I’m so sorry!” His face is red and he grabs a pillow, placing it over his lap, “God–fuck, I’m so sorry I was asleep—” He keeps stuttering, unable to meet your eyes. 

“Art.”

“It’s just biological you know, just morning wood, I would never do anything without your explicit consent–enthusiastic consent!”

“Art…”

“And I would never want to ruin anything between us, ever–”

“Art!”

His head snaps toward you then, eyes meeting yours. His mouth hangs open, eyes watery as he looks up at you. He looks so sad, so embarrassed, and disappointed. And something else as well. Worried, perhaps. 

“Get back up here,” you tell him.

Art’s mouth remains open in shock as he glances at the bed.

“Now?”

“Yes, right now.”

Art scrambles to rejoin you on the bed, lying beside you. He faces you just as he did last night, sandy hair falling across his forehead. You smile softly at his disheveled appearance and his flushed cheeks.

“I’m sorry—”

“Stop talking,” you tell him, reaching forward and brushing some hair from his face. You let your hand trail around to the nape of his neck, fingers curling in his hair. “You have my consent.”

Art’s eyes widen, lips parting in shock.

“Yeah?”

“Mhmm,” you tell him, pulling yourself closer. His hand drifts to your hip, anchoring himself to it. “Explicit, enthusiastic, all yours.”

The last word has barely left your lips before he’s leaning forward, pressing his lips against your own. They’re warm and soft, he kisses you with innocent eagerness, the hand on your hip pulling you flush against him. You lift your leg, hitching it around his thigh, fingers tangling in his hair and tugging slightly, earning a moan against your mouth.

“Fuck,” he moans against your lips, “You don’t know how long I’ve thought about this.”

Something deep inside your belly warms at his admission. 

“Yeah?”

“Mhmm,” he answers, kissing you again, “Since freshman year.”

“Why didn’t you…..oh fuck..” your question trails off as Art mouths your neck, sucking and biting the tender skin.

“Didn’t want to ruin anything,” he mumbles, kissing your collarbone. 

You hum at his answer, tilting your head to give him better access. His hand moves from your hip bone, up under your shirt—his shirt. 

“Is this okay?” he asks, mouth returning to your lips.

“Yes,” you tell him, “Please touch me.”

You can feel his smile against your lips as he does what you ask, fingers grazing the underside of your breast. Pushing against him, his hand cups your breast, squeezing lightly. You pull away from his lips briefly, tugging your shirt over your head and tossing it to the end of the bed. Art’s eyes devour you and he kisses you desperately as he continues to play with your tits. 

“Fuck you’re beautiful,” he murmurs, kissing down your neck until he reaches the top of your chest. 

Art’s lips move across the tops of your breasts, as though he’s struggling with choosing which one to lavish with attention. Luckily for you, he decides rather quickly and latches his mouth to your right nipple, thumb, and forefinger, tweaking the opposite. Your back arches as he gently bites down, sucking the hardened peak harshly before releasing it with a pop. 

“Art.”

He simply moans, ignoring your cries as he brings his mouth to your opposite nipple, repeating his previous action. Pleasure winds a current in your lower belly, your thighs clench as he repeats his little torture, alternating back and forth between your breasts. You grab his hair, tugging him not too gently until he glances up at you, cheeks red, lips glossy and puckered. 

He’s too pretty.

You pull him back to your lips, kissing him feverishly while trying to rid yourself of the clothing you have left. Art feels you squirming and assists, hands moving the boxers down your legs until you’re able to kick them off at your ankles. Your hands move to him next, eager to even the playing field. 

You tear his shirt over his head revealing his toned stomach from countless hours on the court. Your mouth waters at the sight before Art is on you once more, lips capturing yours in another heated kiss. His hand returns to your hip, curling against it before he reaches further, squeezing your ass.

You smile against his mouth as he squeezes again. 

“You’re just fucking perfect, aren’t you?” he murmurs, returning your smile.

His hand grazes down the back of your thigh before venturing to the front where your legs meet. Your breathing becomes more labored the closer he gets to your hot center. 

“Can I?” he asks, so softly, you nearly drown out his question with your heavy breath.

“Yes,” you tell him, and that’s all he needs. 

Art slides a curious finger between your wet folds, gently circling your clit. Your mouth falls open as he continues.

“You’re so wet,” he remarks, dipping his finger lower, and finding your entrance. 

He lets his middle finger sink into you, met with little resistance. Your walls greedily accept him as he curls his finger upwards, beginning to pump it in and out. Stars explode behind your eyes and you moan, clutching onto his shoulder.

Art smirks, eyes aglow at the pleasured noises you emit.

“That feel good?”

“Yes—fuck,” you squeak as he presses another finger inside of you, “Oh god.”

“Yeah?” 

Art crooks his fingers against your velvety walls, pressing against that special spot inside of you that has your head lolling against him, moans spilling from your lips. His thumb joins, caressing your sensitive clit in time with the strokes of his fingers. 

“Feels so good,” you moan, “I’m so close.”

“Yeah? You're gonna come for me?” he asks, kissing your neck. Your fingers tangle themselves in his blonde hair, tugging harshly, your orgasm building deep in your belly, “Come on baby, come on my fingers, I wanna feel this pretty pussy come.”

His words send you over the edge and your pussy clenches around his digits as you come, thighs shaking from the intensity as warmth floods through you.

“That was so hot,” Art says, kissing you, still buried to the knuckles inside you, “You’re so hot. Let me fuck you, please.”

You hum against his lips as he carefully removes his fingers from your warmth. He pulls away, bringing his fingers to his lips, sucking them clean. You watch him awestruck as he moans, eyes closing at the taste of you.

“Get inside me,” you tell him, “Right now.”

Art doesn’t need to be told twice, sitting up and pulling his boxers off as you lay on your back. Your eyes drift down his stomach to his cock. It’s pretty, just like the rest of him. Long, girthy, a neat tuft of dark sandy colored hair at the base. The tip flushed red and weeping as he strokes himself. 

“Condom?” you ask, and he nods, walking to his desk and rummaging through the first drawer. 

He comes up successful, ripping the wrapper with his teeth and rolling the condom on his length before crawling on top of you. You spread your legs for him as he lines himself up, rubbing the tip along your soaked slit. 

“Art, please put it in,” you whine, hips lifting.

“Jesus, I’m not gonna last long if you keep that up,” he says, shaking his head.

Your responding giggle is short-lived as he slowly sinks inside of you, filling you to the brim.

“Oh god,” you whimper, as he rests his forehead against yours.

“You okay?”

“More than okay,” you answer, cupping his cheek. He mirrors your action and you smile, a sudden burst of tenderness exploding in your chest, tears welling in your eyes. 

Art rotates his hips, pulling back and sinking back into your inviting warmth. 

“You feel so fucking good,” he murmurs, kissing your lips, “I’ve dreamt of this for years.”

“Me too,” you admit, wrapping your legs around his waist, “God, Art, I’ve wanted this forever.”

This spurs him on, his thrusts becoming quicker, more eager at your confession. 

“Yeah?”

“Yes,” you whimper as he pounds into you, “Wanted this for so long—used to talk to….to Tashi about it—”

Art moves his hand along your side, reaching your thigh and hooking your leg over his shoulder.

“What’d you tell her?”

The new angle sends him deeper, the head of his cock rubbing perfectly against that spongy section of your walls that has your mouth dropping open in pleasure.

“Wanted you,” you manage as Art holds one of your hands above your head against the pillows, “Wanted this so bad.”

“I’ll give it to you,” Art says, his breath catching, “Fuck—oh god you’re so pretty like this, fuck.”

“Art!” you cry his name as your second orgasm builds, sneaking up on you as he slows his pace, “Why’d you—”

“Wanna savor this,” he says softly, kissing the tip of your nose. His thrusts have slowed, hips moving with leisure. 

The pressure in your belly continues to build as he smirks down at you. Tennis has done wonders to his stamina; he fucks you like he could keep this pace for hours, barely breaking a sweat. You whine, throwing your head back against the pillows as he kisses your neck, your hamstring burning deliciously with the stretch. 

“Please come for me,” he murmurs, right next to your ear, “I’ve got to feel that sweet little pussy come around my cock, please.”

You do as you’re told, spurred on by Art whispering praises and encouragement in your ear and you fall apart, clenching around his cock and milking him for all he’s worth. You feel his hips stutter, cock twitching inside your warmth as he follows your release with his own. Art’s lips find yours then, and you can taste yourself on his tongue as he kisses you like a drowning man coming up for air. 

You stay like that for several minutes, his cock softening as you kiss one another, before he slowly pulls out. He takes a moment to take off the condom, tying it off and tossing it in the trash before he rejoins you in bed.

“C’mere,” he says, pulling you across his chest. 

You lie with your cheek pressed against his pec, listening to the gentle beating of his heart. He strokes your arm with his fingers, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“Did you mean what you said?” he asks, face buried in your hair, “About wanting me? This?”

“Mhmm,” you answer, putting all your cards on the table, “I may have harbored a small crush on you.”

Art picks up your hand measuring it against his own before lacing your fingers together.

“I wish I knew that earlier,” he admits, still holding your hand, “I’ve been in love with you for ages.”

You glance up at him between your lashes and he grins.

“It’s true,” he says with a smile.

“And here I thought Patrick was the only one who owned your heart,” you tease, causing him to playfully bite your wrist, “Hey!”

“Not the only one,” he admits, rolling you over onto your back, “I’m glad you got kicked out of your room last night.”

You lean up, placing a kiss on the tip of his nose.

“Me too.”

link to other stories from me!

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[ecoamerica]

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[kenntolog]

Can I request something with popular bf Gojo and shy gf reader where reader is getting belittled and bullied by a group of girls and has been for a while, but doesn’t tell Gojo cause he doesn’t want her to worry, and sort of taking what they say to heart a little. Gojo notice this and eventually reader breaks down and tells him what’s going on

as soon as it starts, gojo notices something shifting in you immediately.

it’s not a visible nor a clearly sensible shift in your behaviour or appearance, yet somehow gojo is able to tell something is wrong and he is kind of proud of himself for that. yet the feeling of pride dims compared to the worry growing inside of him.

because you never tell him when something bothers you and he’s sure whatever is happening, he’s just not there to see it. you’re too embarrassed to say it to him since you don’t want him to worry, which sucks completely. it gets so bad, that satoru has to physically stop you from running away whenever he starts asking about what’s the matter, but you get overwhelmed easily and he lets go.

yet, this time he catches you right when you want to slip away; red eyes and shaking shoulders as you try to contain your sobs and run away from him so he doesn’t see, but he is quick to catch up to you in the empty hallway, caging you between his arms.

“let go, ‘toru—”

he gently tugs your hands away from your face, frowning at the dried tracks of tears on your cheeks , “no, tell me what’s wrong.”

“please, can’t we talk later?”

“no! stop running away from me!”

the way his voice cracks makes you shudder as you look up at him warily, finally realising that he’s hurt too. you stop resisting and hide yourself in his chest, sobbing violently while satoru holds you close silently. he moves around so he can slide down the wall and have you sit in his lap, arms only tightening around you.

“they…” you gaze at him through your wet eyelashes, voice a little shaky as your eyes bore into the worry splashing deeply in his, “they say mean things to me.”

“what kind of mean things?”

“all kinds of,” you mumble, eventually relaxing into his hold and letting him stroke your hair. “about my looks, my face, my stuff — just everything, y’know?”

he hums, hoping you’d continue.

“i know i should just ignore that, but then they start saying stuff about you and our relationship, and i can’t help but let it get to me? i know you love me, yet i… maybe they are right? maybe i am not good enough and you deserve more. prettier. funnier. smarter.”

you voice gets more and more quiet as you ramble about what’s been happening. and as you fiddle with your fingers, head hung low with staggered breathing, you’re unable to see how every single word you say nearly breaks satoru’s heart into a million of pieces.

“oh sweetheart.”

you look up at him, wiping the last of your tears. it seems like you’ve already come to terms with whatever the hell they were spewing at you and it makes satoru very angry. it has been going on for far too long, so long that it changed your brain chemistry and how you feel about yourself, and he hates it so so much.

“you are more than enough for me.”

you stare at him all wide eyed for a second before your face scrunches and you start crying once again, hot tears staining his hand as he wipes every single one of them. gojo cups your face gently and brings it closer to his so he can speak directly into your ear.

and he doesn’t spare any of his thoughts for you, letting you know that you’re everything he wants and he wouldn’t ask for anyone else; that you’re his favourite person in the whole world and he loves you very very much; that it hurts him that you’re hurting and are scared to tell because he’d do anything it takes to make you feel better. placing gentle kisses on your cheek since it’s so closer and he absolutely can’t resist you.

satoru doesn’t expect you to change your mind about everything in one day, but he’s ready to tell you those same words and more every single day if that’s what you need.

[hoshifighting]

Seventeen's reaction when reader stops breathing during orgasm

Seungcheol

as he feels you go completely still beneath him, he’d stop everything he’s doing, his eyes wide with panic. "hey, are you okay?" he’d ask urgently, shaking you gently until you start breathing again.

he slowed his movements just enough to give you a moment to catch your breath, his eyes never leaving your face. his hand comes up to gently stroke your cheek.

as your face contorts in pleasure and you tighten around him, he realizes what's happening. he was worried but also intensely turned on by the raw, uncontrolled reaction you were having.

a grin spreads across his face as he watches your blissed-out expression, the realization dawning on him that he's fucking you too good. "mhmm look at you," he chuckles, his tone teasing but relieved. "couldn't handle all of this, huh?" he continues to thrust into you, enjoying the way your body responds to him.

Jeonghan

Jeonghan would be startled, his playful demeanor instantly replaced with concern as he feels you stop breathing. he’d pause immediately, his eyes searching your face for any signs of distress. "baby, breathe for me," he’d urge softly, his fingers brushing your hair back from your forehead.

the moment you start breathing again, he’d let out a relieved sigh. he slows down just enough to prolong your pleasure, whispering dirty praises in your ear about how beautifully you cum for him.

Joshua

would be immediately alarmed, panicking as he realizes you’re not breathing. "oh my god, are you okay?" he’d ask frantically, shaking you gently until you start breathing again.

when you reach your climax and exhale deeply, he smiles softly. "that's it, beautiful," he murmurs, his hands soothingly rubbing your sides. "you did so well, just keep breathing."

''please don’t do that again."

Jun

Jun's brow furrows in concern when he notices you tensing and not breathing. "are you okay? don't forget to breathe," he says softly, his hands caressing your sides. "I'm here, just relax and let it go."

when you cum and release your breath, he lets out a relieved laugh. "there you are," he whispers, pressing kisses along your neck. "you did amazing, baby. just relax now."

Hoshi

"hey, Y/N, are you okay? please breathe," he’d say frantically. Hoshi’s heart skipped a beat when he saw you stop breathing momentarily during your orgasm. his movements became more controlled, and he leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead.

as you finally came, your body trembling in response, Hoshi let out a soft, encouraging moan. “fuck, you’re amazing,” he kept his movements gentle but firm, prolonging your pleasure and ensuring you felt every wave of your orgasm. “that’s it, mhmm” he encouraged, his voice soothing and filled with admiration.

Wonwoo

Wonwoo notices your body’s reactions with a keen eye, fascinated by the way you stop breathing and tense up as you get closer to orgasm. he slows his pace just enough to tease you, "just relax, I'm here with you." "gonna' cum for me just like the good girl your are? hm"

he smiles in relief, when you cum around his cock "there you go, love..." he whispers, his hands gently rubbing your back.

Woozi

''hey, don't hold your breath like that," he almost scolds, voice laced with concern. he cups your face, making sure you focus on him. "It's okay, just breathe with me."

As you cum, he breathes a sigh of relief along with you. "that's it, you're okay," he whispers, pressing a kiss to your temple.

Minghao

from the moment you start to fuck, Minghao is attuned to every detail of your reactions. his gentle but firm touch is designed to keep you grounded. as you get closer to your climax, you forget his earlier instructions and starts tensing up. your breath catches, and you can feel your body tightening.

"breathe," he commands, his voice dominating. when you cry out, overwhelmed by the intensity, he leans in closer, his lips brushing against your ear. "shh, shh, breathe," he repeats, his tone brooking no argument. "you did so well."

Mingyu

his eyes widened when he realized you had stopped breathing in the throes of your orgasm. his large hands stroking your sides soothingly. “hey, hey, breathe for me,” he coaxed, his voice gentle yet firm.

when you finally reached your climax, and he felt the gush of liquid from your squirting, Mingyu couldn’t contain his excitement. “holy shit,” he muttered, a wide grin spreading across his face. he watched in awe as you rode out your orgasm, his hands steadying you.

Seokmin

Seokmin’s eyes widen with concern as he notices you slipping into a trance-like state, your breath catching and body tensing up. "Y/N-nie?" he slows his pace momentarily, trying to gauge your reaction. ''breathe, baby, come on,"

realizing you need a sharp jolt to snap out of it, Seokmin thrusts sharply into you, forcing your body to react. the sudden movement makes you gasp, drawing in a much-needed breath. as you exhale, the tension in your body releases, and you cream around his cock, the orgasm hitting you. "good girl..." he continues to move, more gently now. "I’ve got you."

Seungkwan

"baby, you gotta breathe for me," he decides to stimulate you more, hoping to get a reaction. one hand moves to your clit, rubbing it in tight circles while his mouth latches onto your nipple, sucking and licking it. "come on, beautiful, I need to hear you," he murmurs against your skin.

feeling your body react to the extra stimulation, Seungkwan continues, his touch becoming more insistent. "breathe, baby, breathe" he repeats, his fingers working your clit faster. your body jerks, a gasp escaping your lips as you finally take in a breath. he grins, knowing he's got you back.

Vernon

Vernon immediately senses something is wrong so he stops thrusting into you, "are you okay?"

you whine, frustrated by the sudden pause, and manage to gasp "keep going." you start to breathe again, your chest rising and falling more steadily. Vernon grins, relieved but still cautious. "alright, but you gotta keep breathing, okay?"

he moves slowly at first, making sure you’re breathing steadily. once he's satisfied you're alright, he picks up the pace. "you gonna cum for me, baby? just like that, keep breathing,"

the pleasure builds quickly, and with Vernon’s attentive eyes on you, you feel safe to let go. your body tenses again, but this time, you remember to breathe. "fuck, that's it, baby." Vernon groans, feeling you clench around him.

Dino

his sharp instincts kick in, and he knows he needs to keep you breathing. without slowing his thrusts, he bites down gently on your neck and tugs at your hair, the sudden sensations pulling you back from the edge just enough. "breathe, baby, yes, breathe" he growls into your ear, his voice low and commanding.

the mix of pain and pleasure forces a gasp out of you, and you start to breathe again, albeit shakily. Chan doesn't let up, his thrusts relentless as he works to bring you to your peak. "that's it, keep breathing," he encourages, his tone firm. "I want you to scream my name when you cum." he pulls his face away from your neck, his eyes locking onto yours.

as you come down from your high, Chan slows his movements, his hands still holding you close. he scolds you gently, "you need to remember to breathe, okay? I want to feel you cum properly without scaring me like that."

[songbirdseung]

pinky ring / sim jaeyun

synopsis: jake made you a promise to marry you when you two were toddlers. he would fake propose until he really did get down on one knee.

pairing: childhood besties jake x reader

wc: 1.1k

To your parents, it was all good fun. Seeing their child being proposed to by their childhood best friend at their favorite beach. Documentation was highly important to them, filming little you and little jake holding a candy ring pop in his hand, asking your hand in marriage. To them, it was adorable.

For young child you, you were petrified. At the time, your dad just gave a small talk on how to stay away from boys and you're definitely too young to get into a relationship. This happened when you called the actor on scene handsome when you were having a family movie night.

"We are too young Jake" pouting your lips, feeling bad for rejecting his proposal. Jake shrugs and hands you the ring pop anyway. "Fine, I'll just wait and get you a real ring".

That didn't last long because fast forward to the next year, he does it again. He has done it so much that for the next few following years, it had become an inside joke to everyone in your immediate family.

"You have rejected me for 4 years now" crossing his arms in a fit, Jake looks at you disappointed. "Maybe because we are only 12 years old?"

At this point, you aren't sure if he's doing this because he really wants to marry you or just to tease you and lead any guy interested in you far far away. Remembering all the instances where a boy would approach you during lunch and sit next to you and confess and say that they think you' re cute. There then comes Jake, wearing a smug smirk and says something along the lines of "I'm actually her future husband, please go away".

It makes you think about how you could never get away from Jake and his antics.

Even when you guys reached your teenage years, almost reaching adulthood, Jake never dropped the fake proposal joke. Like on your 19th birthday, at the restaurant he took you both to, he claims how he's your boyfriend and he's planning to propose soon, the waiter thought he was weird for saying that he wanted to propose soon with you sitting right there but nonetheless, he gave you both free desserts.

You thought at by the age of 14, he'd stop since you both are going through puberty, his feelings would change and he'd drop it due to his own pride and embarrassment, but no.

Now you both were 20, if you had to count how many fake proposals Jake has done over the years, it would reach 100.

"You can't say that we are too young, we're both legal adults and we basically known each other our whole lives." You turn over to him and flick his forehead, causing him wince in pain and shoo you away from him. "You're mean"

"You're the one that wants to marry me, so get used to it"

"Oh, so you're playing along now" He removes his hand from his head and pokes your side. "After years, you're finally warming up to the idea"

"Keep that up, I won't be anymore" Once you said that you realize how you didn't even deny it. Looking back at Jake who went back to playing video games, you take in his appearance and guide your eyes to follow the lines that make his side profile.

Jake was good looking, you knew that. He's always been the apple of your eye since you two were kids, then as you got to know him, his humor, personality, and behavior kind of sealed the deal for you.

"If you keep staring at me, I might disintegrate."

"Then, who is going to marry me?"

"We're still on that? I thought you didn't want to?"

"Make me your girlfriend and I'll rethink it" Now it was your turn to cause a ruckus in Jake's mind. He pauses the game and looks over to you, reading your expression wondering if you were serious or not.

That night, Jake stayed over. Unlike the other past sleepovers that you two had, this one was different because the way you cuddle into him now, it felt different. He was always yours and until now, just a different kind. He was now your boyfriend, not boy-friend.

With your dynamic and bond with Jake, it felt like sunshine and rainbows most of the times, being around each other all the time and knowing each other too well, you always found ways to fix things or any miscommunication that would come along.

Transitioning to relationship from friendship was surprisingly easy from the outside perspective but the thing with you and Jake was he was always a gentleman and treated you right and how you deserved to be treated, and of course vice versa.

When you told your mom the news, she did not show any surprised reaction, simply telling you how she saw it coming and was just waiting for this moment to happen, you dad shared a similar reaction, happy that it was Jake to be the one you were dating.

Fast forward to a whole year of dating Jake. People would say that you two were like a fairytale love, match made in heaven, meant for each other, all that. "Hey yn, maybe you should do that trend where you call Jake your husband"

"I'm pretty sure he's already seen that on tiktok, no?"

Still, even if he did, you were going to do it just to see his reaction. That same day, you two meet up after your last class ended. Waiting for you somewhere in the university's campus, you run up to him and give him a hug. "Someone missed me?"

In the car ride home, you guys both agreed to stop by your favorite restaurant and get some take out. Which was a perfect time to put your little prank in action. Just like everyone else, after placing your order, you ask Jake what he wants and tell the waiter. "Then my husband would like ___"

Once the waiter leaves, you finally take notice of Jake who is wide eyed, staring at you in awe. "There's no way you just called me that" To say he was a lovesick puppy after that was an understatement.

But now since you called him that, you have to keep calling him that. Because if you call him or introduce him as your boyfriend, he'll act surprised and startled. "Are you asking for a divorce?" "Do you not love me anymore?" "I thought I was your husband?" to name a few.

"I'm gonna have to propose now, for real this time"

[norrisleclercf1]

Grid Kid

"Hey, think I could meet your parents?" Logan swears he's never felt such happiness at hearing that, it was stupid, but Logan technically told the media he had two sets of parents. It always confused people until they saw the pictures and it suddenly became clear.

"Yeah, but which set?" You cock your head to the side and smile. "Can we get them out of the way, they scare me," Logan had to control the smirk as he nods his head. Yeah, Nico and Jenson could be pretty scary to meet two World Champions, but also people considered Nico to be terrifying. "Nico won't be that bad," Logan comforts, as you roll your eyes.

"Please, what'd he say when you told him you finally asked me on a date?" Logan grumbles under his breath and you move climbing in his lap, "Hmm what was that?" Logan giggles as you grab his face smiling placing a soft kiss on your lips. "It's not important what he said, besides, Jenson will be there so he can keep Nico under wraps," You giggle as Logan's fingers dance along your sides.

"Okay, okay, so when should I meet them?" Logan thinks before looking up, smiling brightly.

-----------------------

"Logan, this is so not appropriate," You groan, as you stare at all the Legends surrounding the Williams F1 car. "It's perfect, Jenson is here, and so is Nico, and besides Nico would rather die than act out in front of all these people," You turn, seeing Nico cock his head staring at you, Jenson next to him talking to Nigel Mansell.

"Logan, look it's Nigel Mansell," You whisper, eyes wide as you stare at one of the F1 legends. "Yes, he used to drive for Williams," Logan whispers, and you narrow your eyes as Logan blushes, "Sorry, I know you know that," Kissing your temple you giggle and bump your hip into his.

Now you've caught the attention of both Jenson and Nico, and feel the need to pull away from Logan, but he refuses to let you budge. "Come on, Nico! Jenson!" You've always found them attractive, but in this moment they screamed protective parents and you felt like dying for a different reason.

"Logie, hi, love," Nico smiles, pulling Logan away and kissing his cheek and hugging him as you nervously shake Jenson's hand introducing yourself. Jenson smiling, "Thank you," Jenson whispers, but he doesn't elaborate, you know what he means.

Logan has been having a tough season, one not of his own doing, or something he could fix easily. "So, this is who you're dating," You feel yourself stand up straight at smile as Nico takes you in, he smiles, but it feels like he's scanning you.

"You are just," Logan and you both hold a breath as Nico starts to smile. "So cute, oh my god, how'd you land a someone like them," Slapping Logan on the chest, he makes a soft oof sound, Jenson chuckling and rubbing Logan's hair, Logan leaning into Jenson who whispers soft words, Nico pulling you into a hug.

"Protect him, yeah?" Nico asks, and you nod your head. You'd always protect Logan, he was from the sunshine state and literally was ray of sunshine, he just needed people to believe in him. "He's a soft child, a child thrown to the wolves. Part of me still wishes I drove," Nico grounds, knowing he and Jenson would never allow this to happen.

"He'll be okay, really, no matter what happens. He adores you two, besides, he's stronger than he looks," You smile, and Nico makes a face. "Darling, to much information," Your face turns red as you try to find the words but Jenson laughs loudly. "Nico, stop teasing the kids," Logan groans and leads you away, Nico waving his hands around at his best friend, Jenson just rolling his eyes.

[ecoamerica]

Watch the 2024 American Climate Leadership Awards for High School Students now: https://youtu.be/5C-bb9PoRLc

The recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by student climate leaders! Join Aishah-Nyeta Brown & Jerome Foster II and be inspired by student climate leaders as we recognize the High School Student finalists. Watch now to find out which student received the $25,000 grand prize and top recognition!

[verstappen-cult]

Following today’s Imola observations, can we get a charles praise kink👀👀

Charles is high on adrenaline as he climbs out of the car. And then on the podium and even on the press conference. He’s exhausted and not so happy with the result he had this weekend, but can’t deny how thrilling it is to see all the tifosi shouting and cheering for him and Ferrari.

He still can hear the “Ole, Ole, Ole, Leclerc, Leclerc” from his driver’s room.

And it’s not until Charles is, finally, in the comfort of his home that he feels all the emotions of the day coming back full force.

“Charlie?” You ask at hearing the door being closed, standing from the couch and walking to greet him.

“Hey, baby.” He smiles tiredly at you.

“I wanted to wait for you but thought it was better if I just came back home.” You shrug, shortening the distance. Charles arms immediately find your waist, pulling you flush against his body. “You did so great today, Char.”

Charles cheeks heat up, eyes glazing over. “Oh, I’m not so sure about that.”

“What are you talking about? You did an amazing job all weekend.” You tangle your fingers in his hair and he willingly lets you pull his head back. “First Ferrari driver to be on the podium since 2006, uh?”

Charles face is impossibly hot, his cheeks so red that you can’t help but find it cute. All the blood on his body going to very different places. “Since Michael.” He whispers, flustered.

“That’s huge, Charlie.” You say with a proud smile on your lips while massaging his scalp. You lean forward and attach your lips to his jaw, kissing your way down to his neck. Charles closes his eyes, letting out soft sighs and feeling like putty in your hands. “And second in the championship too.”

Charles can’t help himself, all the praises doing weird things to his brain, and so he moans. He would feel embarrassed in any other situation but not today.

“Your home race is next,” Your left hand slowly makes its way downwards, the pad of your fingers stroking his cock through his pants. “Nobody can beat you there, you know Monaco like the palm of your hand. Don’t you, Charlie?” You wait for him to reply but he is silent for a whole minute, too lost in the pleasure, so you bite his earlobe to pull him out of it. “I asked you something, Charles. Don’t you think it is rude to ignore when someone asks you a question?”

“Yes, sorry. Sorry—” He finishes with a groan when you pull hard on his hair, exposing more of his neck.

“You will win in Monaco, Charles.” You pull away just enough to look him in those green, sparkling eyes. “And everyone will cheer for you as you stand on the top step of that podium.” Charles thrust into your hand and you place your leg between his, so he can rub against your thigh. “All the fans shouting your name—just like they did today. Can you imagine it already? How will that feel?”

Charles should feel embarrassed about how little it takes for him to come in his pants. But not today.

[pucksandpower]

I’m Not Jealous!

Lando Norris x Reader

Summary: you’re definitely not jealous of how your boyfriend and his teammate are eye-fucking each other … nope

Note: thank you to the brilliant @struggling-with-drivers for this amazing idea, I love you so much ❤️

You can’t take your eyes off Lando and Oscar as they chat animatedly in the McLaren motorhome after qualifying. The way they lean towards each other, the spark of energy crackling between them, the bright gleam in their eyes — it makes your chest tighten with a strange jealousy.

They’re so wrapped up in their conversation, casually touching each other’s arms for emphasis, that they don’t even notice you approaching. You clear your throat pointedly.

“Oh, hey babe!” Lando glances up with a warm smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. He’s still buzzing from the adrenaline of the session, and you know how much he lives for these intense post-qualifying debriefs with his teammate.

Oscar throws you an acknowledging nod but doesn’t break his intense eye contact with Lando. “We were just going over the data from ...”

You cut him off with an impatient wave of your hand. “I don’t care about the data. Can I talk to my boyfriend for two seconds?”

Lando blinks in surprise at your curt tone but recovers quickly with a teasing grin. “Someone’s feeling jealous.” He slides an arm around your waist, pulling you against his side with a gentle squeeze.

You stiffen, hating how easily he can read you sometimes. “I am not jealous.”

“Uh huh, sure.” Lando rolls his eyes good-naturedly. “Then why are you pouting like a petulant child?”

“I’m not pouting!” You protest, very much aware that your lower lip has surged into an exaggerated protrusion. You shoot Oscar a venomous glare when he fails to stifle a snort of laughter.

Lando laughs too, that bright, infectious giggle that somehow simultaneously melts and irritates you. “Aww, baby, you don’t have to be jealous of Oscar. We both have girlfriends, remember? You’re my one and only.”

He kisses your cheek with an audible smacking sound, as if to emphasize his point. But the reassurance doesn’t land — if anything, it makes you more prickly.

“Doesn’t feel like it when you two are constantly eye-fucking each other,” you grumble petulantly.

Lando blinks, his smile faltering briefly into an almost comically exaggerated expression of surprise. Then he exchanges a loaded glance with Oscar, the two of them breaking into wide grins.

“What?” You demand, feeling your cheeks flush hot with embarrassment and irritation. Did you really just say that out loud?

“Nothing, nothing,” Lando says quickly, still grinning wolfishly. “It’s just … eye-fucking, huh? Is that what you think we’re doing?”

“Well it certainly looks like it!” You retort, frantically trying to backpedal. “With all the intense staring and lingering touches and private jokes ...”

Lando’s grin stretches even wider, if that’s possible. “You’re just jealous because you want my undivided attention, aren’t you?”

Your mouth drops open, scandalized by his blunt words despite how accurate they are. “I … no!”

The protest rings pathetically hollow, even to your own ears. Lando sees right through you, as always. He cups your burning cheek, tsking softly.

“Aww, baby, you’re all needy and flustered now, aren’t you?” His tone is warm, almost purred, sending a shiver rippling through you. “It’s okay, I get it. Who could resist wanting every second of my time?”

You huff out a petulant breath, but it’s impossible to stay irritated when he’s gazing at you with such open affection. “You’re an ass.”

“Maybe.” Lando shrugs cheerfully. “But I’m your ass.” He leans in until his lips are brushing your ear, voice dropping to a hushed murmur. “And tonight, I’ll be giving you every second of my undivided attention.”

A full-body shiver races through you at the heated promise in his tone. You’re abruptly, acutely aware of Oscar watching this whole exchange with a smirk.

“Get a room, you two,” he drawls, not even trying to hide his amusement.

Lando barks out a laugh, pulling back just enough to wink roguishly at you. “Don’t mind if we do.”

“Wait, here? Now?” You squeak out, suddenly flustered all over again as he takes your hand and starts tugging you toward the back of the motorhome.

“Why not?” Lando flashes you a cheeky grin over his shoulder. “I told you, baby — I’m all yours tonight. No more sharing me with anyone else. Just you and me.”

He pauses with his hand on the doorknob to the private room, giving you a slow once-over that makes your skin prickle with delicious heat.

“And I plan to give you my complete … undivided … attention.”

The husky emphasis he puts on those last few words sends a shiver of anticipation down your spine. You can’t resist stealing a quick glance over at Oscar, who has the decency to look away with a badly concealed smirk.

Then Lando is hauling you through the door and slamming it shut behind you, pressing you up against it as his mouth instantly finds yours in a searing kiss. You melt against him with a breathless moan, all thoughts of jealousy evaporating like mist as his hands roam hungrily over your body.

When you finally break for air, Lando’s eyes are dark with a blazing intensity usually reserved for the racetrack. He brushes a few stray strands of hair from your flushed face with uncharacteristic tenderness.

“You have nothing to be jealous of, you know,” he murmurs gruffly. “Oscar’s my teammate, my rival, almost like a brother to me … but you’re the love of my life. You’ll always come first.”

The raw sincerity in his words steals your breath. You can only nod mutely, suddenly blinking back stupid, overwhelming tears of relief and adoration.

Lando seems to understand. He just smiles that heart-melting smile and guides you toward the small sofa, settling you onto his lap and burying his face in the crook of your neck. His arms wrap snugly around you, holding you close, making you feel deliciously secure and wanted.

“I’m sorry I got jealous and petty,” you mumble, tentatively running your fingers through his sweat-damp curls. “I know how intense your connection with Oscar is on the track. I was just being stupid ...”

“No, no.” Lando cuts you off firmly, pulling back to meet your gaze. “Your feelings are never stupid, baby. If I made you feel like you had to compete for my attention, that’s on me.”

He punctuates his words with a soft, lingering kiss that deepens into something hungrier and needier when you clutch at the back of his neck, wanting him closer, closer ...

Some indeterminable time later, you reluctantly break apart, foreheads pressed together as you both pant for breath. Lando brushes his nose against yours, his eyes practically glowing with devotion.

“I really do love you, you know,” he murmurs, almost shyly. As if he hasn’t already made that abundantly clear a million times over. “More than anything. Or anyone.”

You hum contentedly, snuggling deeper into his embrace. You can feel the steadiness of his heartbeat, a reassuring counterpoint to the pleasant ache of desire still thrumming through your veins.

“I know. And I love you too.” You pause, tracing the line of his jaw tenderly. “Even when I’m being jealous and ridiculous.”

Lando throws his head back with a rich peal of laughter that warms you all the way to your toes.

“Good thing I love you even more when you’re being jealous and ridiculous, then,” he quips, sticking his tongue out impishly.

You swat at his shoulder with a scowl that quickly melts into a reluctant grin, unable to stay annoyed in the face of his boyish charm and unabashed affection.

You know, deep down, that you really don’t have anything to be jealous of — not with the way Lando holds you close and gazes at you like you’re the only person in the world. Still, it’s reassuring having the confirmation out in the open.

You snuggle deeper into his chest, basking in the comfortable silence and closeness. Lando’s fingers idly trace patterns across your back as you breathe in the familiar scent of his cologne mixed with the sharp tang of adrenaline.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” he murmurs eventually, breaking the peaceful quiet. There’s a rare vulnerability in his voice that makes your heart squeeze. “This life … the racing, the fame, the constant pressure … it would all be meaningless if I didn’t have you by my side.”

You tilt your head back to study his earnest expression, struck by the depth of emotion simmering in his warm multi-colored eyes. Impulsively, you reach up to cup his cheek, marveling at how easily he leans into your touch.

In these unguarded moments, it’s hard to reconcile this open, sensitive soul with the fierce, single-minded racer who commands a global spotlight. You feel extraordinarily privileged to be one of the few people who gets to see Lando like this — soft, devoted, his heart laid bare.

“You’ll never have to find out,” you whisper back fiercely. “I’m not going anywhere, Lando. I’m yours for as long as you’ll have me.”

His smile is blinding, making your breath catch. Then his lips are on yours again, kiss brimming with a potent mixture of gratitude, need, and sheer adoration that steals your breath.

When you finally break apart, twin smiles of pure contentment tug at both your mouths. Lando loops his arms loosely around your waist, hands splaying across the small of your back as he simply holds you close and takes a moment to drink you in.

You watch the play of emotions flit across his expressive features — affection, longing, bone-deep satisfaction at having you here, now, anchored in his embrace. A sense of peace and belonging washes over you, chasing away any lingering shadows of jealousy or doubt.

This is where you belong. This is your heart’s home, right here in Lando’s arms, sharing his joy and success and weathering the storms alongside him. A love like this — passionate yet grounded, all-consuming yet secure — is worth fighting for.

You may occasionally get prickly twinges of irrational jealousy. You may bicker and tease and test each other’s patience to its limits. But at the end of the day, you know there’s nowhere else either of you would rather be.

Lando seems to read your mind, his grin taking on a distinctly smug edge as his fingers trace deliciously distracting patterns along your spine.

“See?” He murmurs. “Eye-fucking the teammate is all well and good … but this?” He punctuates the words by pulling you flush against him, letting you feel the undeniable evidence of his arousal. “This is what I really want. What I’ll always want, baby.”

You can’t resist rolling your eyes at his signature cockiness, even as you melt against him with a soft hum of contentment. Typical Lando — somehow managing to be both charming and infuriatingly self-satisfied at the same time.

“Yeah, yeah,” you mumble, unable to keep the goofy smile off your face. “I get it, casanova. Now shut up and kiss me already.”

His answering laugh is pure sunshine, bright and carefree. Then he’s pulling you down into another heated kiss, effectively silencing any lingering self-doubt or jealousy.

This — the two of you, tangled up in each other with no barriers or secrets, just pure affection and insatiable desire — is what true love feels like. And you wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.

[whump-kia]

I MADE A WHUMP EVENT: get ready for July folks

welcome to the Whumperless Whump Event of July! for your sickfic, situational, and completely apersonal whump needs--comfort included, of course.

Image transcripts, tagging rules, and guidelines under the cut!

RULES

Any and all art types allowed! GIFs, drawings, music, writing, etc.

NO AI ALLOWED

OCs and Fandom works alike are welcome :)

Trigger and content tag. Even if the prompt explicitly requires the content (eg. Vomiting), still tag emetophobia

If enough interest is showed, I will make an Ao3 collection

TAGGING

Tag with, per example: #whumperless whump event day 1, #whumperless day 1: [prompt], and #whumperless whump event

Tag me (@whump-kia) if you desire on your work!

Again, make sure to trigger tag and content warn

Prompts (text):

Emergency First Aid: Self-done stitches / Alcohol as sanitizer / “It's just a scratch, I've had worse.”

Does your insurance cover this?: Car accident / Bystander caretaker / “Eyes open, ambulance is almost here.”

Like a record, baby: Vertigo / Struggling to stand / “Is the room spinning, or is it just me?”

It's every day bro: Chronic pain / Massage / “I'm used to it.”

Stealing my breath (give it back): Wheezing / Light-headed / “I'll count, you just breathe.”

Summer is a curse: Heat Stroke / Panting / “Why don't we… find some shade, quick?”

Accidental Cryotherapy: Falling through a frozen lake / Hypothermia / “Hey, c'mon, you gotta stay awake.”

Put your head on my shoulder: Migraine / Light & Sound Sensitivity / “I can close the curtains…”

White and red handkerchief: Coughing up blood / Can't speak / “You just can't shake that cough, can you?”

Your work is never finished: Forced to work while ill / Workplace emergency / “...sit down, I'm calling HR.”

A minor annoyance: Stuffy nose / Hate to be sick / “I'm fine, I can work.”

It's going down (I'm yelling timber): Building collapse / Trapped under rubble / “I can't move my legs.”

It's just a pebble: Avalanche / Stuck in the mountains / “Well, this wasn't how I thought the hiking trip would go.”

Lay down your sword: Fighting back a cold / Cuddling / “Just let yourself be sick so you can get better.”

I'm going down (you're yelling timber): Passing out / Exhaustion / “I've got you, let's sit down, I've got you.”

Say goodbye to filters: Half-conscious / Delirious / “You would never say that in your right mind…”

In hot water: Dangerously high fever / Cool baths / “We have to get that number down somehow.”

I don't see it: Hallucinations / Fever dreams / “It's just a nightmare. You're safe.”

The whump morning after: Tending to injuries / Domestic hurt comfort / “Let's check the bandages, okay?”

It's not fun if you're panicking: Stuck in an elevator / Claustrophobia / “Get me out.”

Where's the exit: Lost / Stuck in the wilderness / “Surely someone will notice we're gone.”

Better out than in: Nervous Stomach / Vomiting / “I got your hair, it's fine.”

Well, that doesn't taste right: Accidentally poisoned / Allergic reaction / “My tongue feels like bees, is that normal?”

Be one with the fish: Drowning / Rescue Breaths / “Why did you think that was a good idea?!”

We didn't start the fire: Severe burns / Running into flames / “I know it hurts. Breathe.”

That's no barn spider: Venomous bite / Arachnophobia / “You'll be okay, we can help.”

What's your name again?: Concussion / Temporary Amnesia / “I don't remember what happened to me.”

Nothing behind the eyes: Fully unconscious / Force feeding / “It's just me, go back to sleep.”

Wrong place, wrong time: Robbery / One of many hostages / “Stay behind me, I can take a hit.”

I don't mean to get emotional: Fear / Breaking point / “I can't stop crying, I'm sorry--”

Only way out is through: Tunnel collapse / Accidental Journey / “We can't just sit here and wait.”

ALTERNATES:

Seizure

Choking

Withdrawal

Drugged

Wild animal attack

Hangover

Strain/sprain

Broken bone

Bloody nose

Panic attack

[rynwritesreid]

Take a bite| Spencer Reid

Summary: After unknowingly teasing Spencer, he needs your help so he can finish paperwork.

Content: Fem!reader. Established relationship. Dom/sub dynamic. Dom!Spencer. Sub!reader. Praise kink. Oral (both receiving). Overstimulation. Bondage (handcuffs). Semi-public sex. Use of nicknames (good girl, baby and sir). Vaginal penetration. No mentions of contraception. Choking/breath play.

Masterlist| requests are open| Navigation

To Spencer, there was no one more beautiful than you. Every inch of your body was perfection in his eyes. So, when you had previously asked Spencer what his favourite body part of you was, he said he couldn’t decide as he loved every part of you. But if he was being honest, it was your thighs.

He loved the way your thighs felt around him. He loved how they would tremble when he was overstimulating you, or they would hug his head when he buried his face between them. He loved to kiss the soft skin of your thighs, feeling the goosebumps rise under his touch.

So, unknowingly to you, when you had decided to wear a skirt to work, you were being a tease to Spencer. As you walked into the office that morning in your skirt, Spencer couldn’t stop stealing glances at your thighs. He was practically eye-fucking you all day.

Because of you, Spencer hadn’t been able to fill out any reports. “Spencer, can I speak to you?” Emily’s voice interrupted his thoughts. He quickly snapped back to reality, trying to compose himself before facing Emily. She raised an eyebrow, clearly noticing his distracted demeanour.

"Is everything alright, Spencer? You seem a bit... off today," Emily inquired, her gaze piercing through him.

Spencer cleared his throat, mustering up a professional facade. "I’m fine just had a lot on my mind. What did you need to talk about?" he replied, avoiding direct eye contact with Emily.

She handed him a folder with a concerned expression. "I need these reports completed by the end of the day. Is that going to be a problem?" Emily asked, her tone firm but not unkind.

Spencer nodded, taking the folder from her. "No problem at all, I'll have them on your desk before you know it," he assured her with a forced smile.

As Emily walked away, Spencer let out a sigh of relief mixed with frustration. His eyes wondered back to you. You were engrossed in a conversation with a colleague across the room, unaware of Spencer's intense gaze on you.

He stood up, and walked directly towards you, he didn’t care that you were in the middle of a conversation. “Hey, can I talk to you?” Spencer didn't care about the puzzled look on your face as he grabbed your hand, pulling you away from the prying ears of Luke and Tara.

"Spencer, what's going on?" you questioned, slightly taken aback by his urgency and the way he was looking at you.

“You.” he paused for a second, his voice was horse, “you’re such a fucking tease. You know that right?” he whispered, his breath warm against your ear. 

You didn’t know what to say, but you did know your cheeks had gone a bright shade of red.

“Because of you, I haven’t been able to do any work today. So, you’re going to be a good girl, and follow me into that storage closet, okay?” Spencer's voice was laced with desire and a touch of command that made your heart race. Without a word, you found yourself nodding, your body reacting to his proximity and the sudden rush of adrenaline.

He didn't wait for a response, tugging you gently by the hand as he led you towards the storage closet at the far end of the office floor.

Once inside the dimly lit closet, Spencer wasted no time in pressing you against the shelves, his lips finding yours in a hungry kiss.

“Get on your knees.” Spencer commanded, his voice low and authoritative. You didn't need to be told twice; it was clear that Spencer had been holding back all day. 

You sank to your knees, your heart pounding in your chest, your breaths coming out in shallow pants. You looked up at him, your eyes searching for reassurance, but all you saw was raw desire.

His hand gripped the back of your head, guiding you to where you needed to be. With one swift motion, your eyes widened as you felt the thickness of his erection, pressing against your lips. Trembling, you parted them, welcoming him inside.

Spencer's breath hitched as you took him in, the wet sounds of your mouth enveloping him filling the small space. He thrust gently, his hips rocking in rhythm with your movements. You kept your eyes locked with his, the heat of his gaze intensifying with every stroke.

As the sounds of your mouth moving on him filled the closet, Spencer's control began to slip. His fingers tightened in your hair, and he started to thrust harder, his hips bucking against your face.

Spencer's breath became ragged, his voice a husky whisper as he urged you on. "That's it, baby, take it all. I can't hold back anymore."

The slap of your lips around him, the wet sounds of your throat accommodating him, the intensity of it all was overwhelming, and yet, you craved more.

Spencer groaned, his hips thrusting more violently, his release imminent. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum, baby..." he warned, his voice strained and filled with urgency.

You felt his cock twitch against your lips, and you knew it was only a matter of time. He continued to thrust, his pace becoming erratic as he approached his climax.

Spencer's body tensed as he reached the edge, his hips stuttering against your face. Then, with one final thrust, he let out a guttural moan, releasing himself in your eager mouth.

You swallowed, your throat adjusting to the new sensation as he continued to fill you. It was only when he was spent that he slowly pulled away, his breath still coming in ragged gasps.

“Clean yourself up, I’ve got to go write my reports before I get scolded by Emily again.” Spencer mumbled, still trying to catch his breath. You stood up, your knees wobbly, and grabbed a handful of tissues from the carton on the shelf. You wiped your mouth, feeling your cheeks flush.

Spencer watched you, his gaze lingering on your lips, the tissues still clutched in your hand. "You're such a good girl," he whispered, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

Spencer wasn’t done with you yet, but the rest would have to wait till you had both finished work and where back in the safety of your shared apartment.

“When I home tonight, I expect to see you naked waiting for me.”  Spencer warned.

With a final kiss to your lips, Spencer straightened his shirt, adjusting his tie. "Let's get back to work," he said, his voice back to normal, as he led you out of the closet. "I still have those reports to write."

You sat down at your desk, trying to focus on your work, but all you could think about was the next time you'd see Spencer. The corners of your mouth curled up into a smile, knowing that later tonight, you would be waiting for him with nothing but your body to offer. You wanted him to take you again, to feel his hands on your skin, to hear his voice telling you how much he wanted you.

When your workday finally came to an end, you hurried to your shared apartment, excited for what was to come.

Upon entering your apartment, he found you exactly as he'd ordered, standing at the entrance, your body bathed in the soft light of the hallway. The sight of you left him breathless, and his eyes devoured every inch of your naked body.

He approached you slowly, taking in the sight of your breasts, full and inviting, your nipples hard and erect. He reached out, running his fingers gently over them, eliciting a low groan from you.

"You're such a good girl," he whispered, his voice full of desire.

“I always try to be, for you sir.” You whispered back, your eyes never leaving his.

Spencer couldn't help but smile at your response, he loved the way you addressed him, even in these private moments.

“Now, go lie on the bed with your legs spread for me.” Spencer commanded, his voice a mix of desire and authority.

You quickly complied, lying down on the bed with your legs apart, your heart racing as you awaited his touch.

Spencer's eyes devoured your body as he approached the bed. He looked up at you, a smirk on his lips. "You're such a good girl," he said, his voice deep and filled with desire. He crawled onto the bed, his eyes never leaving your body as he made his way between your legs.

With one hand on your thigh, he gently spread your legs wider, exposing yourself to him completely. His other hand reached down, his fingers brushing against your folds, coating them with your arousal.

"Tell me what you want, baby," he growled, his eyes locked on yours.

“I want you to eat me out, sir.” You pleaded, your breath hitching as anticipation seized your body.

Spencer grinned, a wicked glint in his eyes. "With pleasure," he said, his voice a low growl.

He lowered his head and began to kiss and lick your inner thighs, moving closer and closer to your most sensitive spot. Your breathing became shallow and ragged, and you could feel yourself becoming wetter with each passing second.

As his tongue finally made contact with your throbbing clit, Spencer's eyes met yours, and you could see the hunger in them. He began to lick and suck on your sensitive area, his tongue darting in and out with precise movements.

Your moans filled the room, and you could feel your body starting to tremble as the pleasure built within you. You reached down, running your hands through his hair, pulling him closer to you.

Spencer continued to work his magic, his tongue flicking and probing your clit. Your body arched off the bed, your breath coming in short pants as you felt yourself headed towards the edge.

“Oh god, sir, I'm so close,” you gasped, your hips bucking up towards his mouth.

Spencer grinned around your clit, his tongue not missing a beat. He knew just how to push you over the edge, and he was determined to do so tonight.

When you finally screamed out his name, your body convulsing in a powerful orgasm, Spencer slowed his movements, savouring the taste of your release. He pulled away, his lips glistening with your juices.

With a satisfied grin, he looked up at you, his eyes hungry. "I'm not done with you yet," he promised, his voice filled with lust.

Spencer stood up for the bed and walked towards the bedside cabinet. As you tried to see what he was looking for, you saw him grab a pair of handcuffs.

Your heart raced as you watched him approach the bed; his eyes locked on yours. “Spencer, what are you going to do?” you whispered, your voice shaking with anticipation.

Spencer smirked, a wicked glint in his eyes. "Just relax, baby," he said, his voice deep and filled with desire. He climbed onto the bed, his body hovering over you, his hands securing the handcuffs around your wrists.

“While I know you didn’t mean to tease me today, I still believe you need to be punished.” Spencer's voice was firm, and there was no denying the strength of his authority.

"But... but I didn't mean to..." you stammered, your heart racing as you looked up into his eyes.

"I know you didn't, baby. But there are consequences for our actions, and you know that very well." His voice was soft, but the threat was clear. You knew you had to accept the punishment because you knew the rewards that would follow.

Your breath hitched in your throat as you felt the cool metal of the cuffs on your wrists, securing your arms to the headboard. You looked up at Spencer, fear and desire mingling in your eyes, as he crawled between your spread legs.

With one smooth motion, he entered you, filling you completely in one powerful thrust.

"You're such a good girl," he whispered, his voice filled with satisfaction. 

You let out a small, pained moan as your body adjusted to his size. A mixture of pain and pleasure coursed through you, making your heart race and your breath catch in your throat.

Spencer’s hand seemed to find its way to your throat as he began to thrust into you, his rhythm deep and hard. Your body responded to his every move, your breathing becoming ragged as the pleasure and pain mingled within you.

"Are you enjoying yourself, baby?" he growled, his eyes locked on yours.

You nodded, too caught up in the sensation to speak. Your body was on fire, every inch of you alive with desire.

"That's good. Because I'm not going to stop until you beg for me to," Spencer promised, his voice filled with lust.

He continued to thrust into you, his body slamming against yours, the sound of flesh meeting flesh filling the room. Your body responded to his every move, your hips bucking up to meet his each time he thrust into you.

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[sunsburns]

been thinking about dating college!art and you get into a really big fight until he decides to show up at your dorm *cough* make up sex *cough*

i had wayy too much fun with this… SMUT 17+

“i’m still mad at you, you know.” there’s no real bite to your bark, not when your voice is breathless, your cheeks are flushed, and your hands keep running through his hair.

“yeah, i know,” art drawls, his voice softening. he says it because a part of him knows it’s true, but he can’t help the faint smile that grows on his face. he knows you won’t stay mad for long, but he still feels the weight of his guilt pressing down on him. he’d do anything to make it up to you. with every press of his lips, he mutters a quiet “i’m sorry,” against your skin, then grazes his teeth along your ankle before making his way up your leg.

he’d thought of a million different things to say to you, how he would stand his ground or cave to your defences. but all of it was thrown out the window the moment you opened that door. you were wearing his shirt—or maybe it was patrick’s, maybe even tashi’s—and a pair of panties. the sight of your messy desk, covered in textbooks, notebooks, and your open laptop, reminded him you were doing homework, or trying to. but the ache in his chest at the thought of you hating him was overwhelming.

it was killing him knowing you were upset, and he was the cause of it. that’s why art had taken a trip to the nearest farmer’s market the moment he was off the court, and he bought you flowers and your favourite snack and knocked on your door.

now the flowers are forgotten by your desk, the snacks on the floor, and you’re still trying to keep up the act that you’re mad at art. but the truth is, you can’t even remember what you were mad at him about in the first place. 

the way he looks at you, with such earnest remorse and tenderness, makes it hard to hold onto your anger. you sigh, running your fingers through his hair again, feeling the tension between you start to melt away.

“i hate how you do this to me,” you whisper, your voice barely audible. art’s eyes meet yours, and he pauses, his lips hovering just above your knee.

“i know,” he says again, his voice filled with a mix of regret and hope. his hands roam up the sides of your thighs, fingers brushing your ass before they turn into the curve between your legs. “but i’m here now,” he presses a kiss against your hot skin again, making his way up, up, and up. “and i want to make it right.”

as he continues his gentle kisses, moving slowly and tenderly, you feel your defences crumbling. the anger that once felt so strong is now just a distant memory. art’s presence, his touch, his voice, his words, all of him- it’s all you can think about.

he looks up at you, sitting on the bed while he kneels before you. you’re watching him, waiting for his next move when he is still between your legs. 

when you run your nails against his scalp, art doesn't bother hiding the quiet whimper that slips past his lips before he closes his eyes and leans his head towards your arm. 

he lets you hold him while his hands trail up your sides, reaching and groping anything he can before his fingers tug at your panties, and he carefully slips them off you.

when he kisses your clit, you rest your leg over his shoulder, heel pressing against the muscles of his back. his arms wrap around your thighs, pulling you closer while he starts to eat you out. 

art starts slow, calculated strokes of his tongue against you, running it in tight circles against your clit, dipping it lower when he gets a little more confident. when you arch your back and whine, pushing his head closer so you can ride his face, he starts to pick up the pace, hoping to hear that sound come out of you again.

when his tongue pokes at your cunt, it draws a loud moan out of you, blood rushing to your ears. “fuck, art,” you whimper, grinding against his face. “feels so good.”

art seems to like it more than you, eyes closed in bliss, humming and moaning against your cunt, each vibration from his mouth making you spiral. his hips buck up into nothing, but he doesn't seem to mind as his hands hold onto you tighter, as if he is afraid to lose you. 

“you’re so pretty like this,” you barely manage to get out, your heart thumping against your chest.

art moans again at your praise and finally opens his eyes to meet your burning gaze. his low, nearly pathetic whine with his eyes on you was what it took to push you over the edge.

art lets you ride it out, he lets you grind against his face, he lets you use him again and again and again until you’ve had your fill and there is nothing left of him.

and when you cup his cheeks and bring his face to yours and kiss him like you have a one-track mind, he has an inkling feeling that you're not mad at him anymore. you press your forehead against his, hand cupping the back of his neck, and he lets out a sigh and you breathe it in. 

“i’m sorry,” he whispers, one more time, to make sure you know he means it.

you smile, offering him half a shrug and another kiss. “just let me return the favour.”

[zephyrchama]

[Thoughts about an MC who gets periods]

Getting periods in the Devildom must be pretty rough. Demons probably don’t get them, and the number of humans freely wandering around has to be incredibly low. If MC takes the form of a sheep then they likely don't have to deal with it immediately, but eventually that's going to wear off and they'll revert back to a human. Does the Devildom even have pads and tampons for sale?

MC might have to sheepishly ask Barbatos if he can acquire some in bulk from the human world. Barbatos would remain professional as always when inquiring about the use of these products and their role in daily life. He'd have to report it to the prince. They're both aware of what periods are, but only in a vague "oh yeah, humans do that" kind of way. (Perhaps in the future, Lucifer could use his secret Akuzon account to order more?)

There's surely some plant or potion that prevents them, but they're not meant for long term use. Probably tastes nasty over time and covers human skin in a weird oozing rash if consumed too often.

A month or two into the exchange program, MC might have to call up Solomon for aid.

---

“Can you help me with something?”

Solomon, not too interested in MC yet, agrees just to be amicable with his fellow human exchange student. They must be scared! They must be missing humans! “Is something on your mind?”

“You know how to do magic, right?”

What a silly question. It’s almost refreshing to hear. “I do.”

“Do you know… like, uh, smell…? Reducing magic? Something to cover up smells? Without being obvious, I mean. I feel like I stink and I was really hoping you could help me figure something out.”

How cute, he thinks. He can’t quite remember the time when he smelled fully human anymore, and he can’t really smell the distinct odor on people that demons can, but he knows demons can easily sniff out a human from afar. “Oh, don’t worry about that. It should go away on its own as you spend time here.”

MC isn’t convinced. “I don’t think it will…”

“Trust me. How are you finding Devildom cuisine? I know you’re not used to it, but eating more will help you adjust. I can whip up a few simpler dishes for you to try if you need help.”

MC is silent for a bit. Solomon thinks his job is done until they say quietly, “that’s not the problem.”

“What?”

“I’m pretty sure the brothers I live with can smell, uh, my cycle.” No use being coy about it, better get straight to the point. “They stare at me when I’m on my period. I think - no, I know - they can smell the blood. I’ve seen them sniff the air when I’m around. It's weird. And I can’t exactly stop it from happening every month.”

“Oh.” Now it’s Solomon’s turn to be quiet. He’s embarrassed and surprised, a little humbled, and also really interested in this problem. It’s not something he’s ever thought about before.

MC continues, “I think they can tell when I’m ovulating too, Asmo started lingering around more often, and Lucifer looked scarier than usual, and they all stare more, and-”

“I think I get it.” Solomon can’t stop his face from turning pink. Despite his usual grin, he doesn't think he’s ready to listen to the rest of MC’s sentence.

There should be an easy solution, but it’s something that warrants testing if MC doesn’t want the brothers noticing a sudden spell cast upon them. It could get mistaken for something malicious. Solomon says, “I might be able to help. Can you come over today?”

[kenntolog]

What do u think abt ur average popular guy Gojo and his cute little nerdy gf !!! :33 like she's quiet and prefers keeping to herself and then there's Gojo her super outgoing and talkative bf!!!! Like black cat and golden retriever vibess

that’s literally popular gojo x loser reader!!

because as soon as gojo finds a way to leave his own class — he is determined to slip you away from yours. if the door is open and your seat is visible to him, he will text you, urging you to come out and just skip the lessons for a prolonged lunch date with him.

you notice him stalking you, a little farther away from the doorway as to not disturb the lesson, yet the wide grin on his face is visible from afar as he looks at you. hands clasped together in a motion of prayer, satoru dramatically falls on his knees and silently mouths ‘please’s to you from across the room. and how can you say no to that pretty face?

his energy is something completely different from yours, which is quite noticeable even from afar, yet somehow it’s easy for you to feed off of it. satoru likes to give and give, though sometimes it’s hard to accept everything. yet he never stops trying and it makes you adore him more.

taking you on lovely dates that he takes full responsibility of thinking through, always so so sweet about it too!! gojo, of course, doesn’t mind you choosing what to do, it’s just a mutual agreement that you have come to that he is best fitted for stuff like this while you take care of indoor stuff, y’know?

satoru loves it when people listen to him so naturally, he does the thing he’s best at with you — talking! everything that comes out of satoru’s mouth somehow interests you(is that what love feels like?) and you find yourself leaning in closer and closer, to hear him better and softly add in your own questions just to get a bit more of him.

always ending up out if it all, you’re surely ready to listen to him whenever he runs up to you with the most excited of his smiles and his mouth doesn’t close for a while before he calms down and lets you talk. conversations with satoru are one of your favourite activities as well as his :))

[tacticalprincess]

pornstar!König is haunting my dreams:(

-🍪

despite pornstar!könig’s obvious exhibitionist streak, he wants to be around as minimal people as possible, turning down offers from big porn production companies without a second thought. he prefers to produce his own work, either with his outdated phone camera or various old film cameras. the amateur feel to his videos only enhances his appeal to his audience, giving it a realistic touch.

what they don’t know is that none of it is faked, from his end at least. in his mind, he’s getting access to beautiful women’s bodies that he never would’ve before popularity, and showcasing it to the world. the money is only a plus.

his camera shakes as he ploughs into your tight, warm hole from behind, angling it in a way that catches his thick cock splitting you open from his point of view. breaching parts of you no one’s ever been able to touch. he squeezes the fat of your ass that jiggles every time his hips slam into yours, red and raw from being spanked harshly, and spreads your cheeks to put your glossy pussy on display. it amazes him how such a small hole can swallow him so deliciously, the first girl to take him without complaint.

you look impossibly small under his massive frame through the lens, his large hand engulfing every part of you he decides to touch. controls the pace of your hips and reduces you to a fleshlight with just one hand, using his strength to make you fuck back on him despite how boneless you’ve gone.

“this little cunt was made to be on camera. listen to her.” he says gruffly, reaching over and holding a hand over your mouth to muffle your broken moans. you squirm — the obscene squelching noises coming from your pussy makes you shy, unable to run from the position he has you in with your back arched and him over you, completely covered. the glide of his cock is slippery and wet inside your abused hole, sucking him in desperately while his heavy balls slap against your neglected clit. “so loud, liebchen. gonna make you a star.”

next time, he might invest in a go pro, just so he can catch the entirety of your body at once. the sight is too alluring to go to waste.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Copy II

Alessia Russo x Child!Reader

Katie McCabe x Child!Reader

Summary: Your sister is just like your brothers

When Alessia changed teams from United to Arsenal, it means you got a new Russo kit. You get every shirt of every team Lessi's ever been on.

You've even got her college football shirt but that's a sleepytime shirt so you don't wear it out of the house.

You wear your new Arsenal shirt out of the house though because Lessi's taking you to training with her. One day, she tells you, the number on your back will be yours rather than hers and you'll be the Russo playing.

By the time you start playing with the big girls, Lessi will be at the end of her career or already retired. You'll never play with Alessia Russo, the football player but she promises you that you can always play with Lessi Russo, your sister.

Arsenal is different from United so you can actually attend because Lessi lives closer now.

It's shooting training today and that's your most favourite. You can't join in when the big girls first start training but you can be included near the end.

You've been excited about practicing with Lessi all week but now, as you watch her, you can feel that excitement fade away.

Some of the Academy girls have been invited to practice with the first team. They're bigger than you so they can play with the big girls from the beginning.

There's one in particular that's getting personal attention from Lessi. Your sister's adjusting her position and showing her the correct technique the exact way that Lessi does for you, down to slightly nudging her around with her boots.

Alessia's smiling at her with the same smile that's usually reserved for you.

You thought that smiling was only used for you. You thought you were special because Alessia only smiles at you that way.

Apparently not.

Apparently you and this Academy girl are the exact same in Alessia's eyes.

A long time ago, when you much littler, Gio and Luca both yelled at you when you tried to play with them. They kept pushing you away and you kept trying to get involved until they yelled.

Mummy took you away as you sobbed and had to explain that sometimes your siblings didn't want to play with a little girl like you. She explained that sometimes people your siblings' ages like to hang out with people their age.

You were silly to think that only applied to your brothers because it's clear that Alessia is just like them. She wants to hang out with only people close to her age too.

It's that time in training where you can join in but she still hasn't called you over.

She's just like your brothers.

You want to be just like Alessia. You want to make her proud but she's forgotten about you just like your brothers do.

You really, really want her to be proud of you though but you don't know how to compete with the bigger girls who can kick harder and run faster than you.

You're still little compared to them.

"Alright, little Russo?"

Katie sits down next to you, nudging her knee against yours.

""Why aren't you practicing, huh?"

You burst into tears immediately and Katie jolts in shock.

"Ah, shit. No, wait, not shit. Don't-Don't repeat that! Crap! Er..." She folds you into a hug quickly. "Do you want me to get Less?"

"N-No!" You blubber," Lessi doesn't want me! No Lessi!"

"Oh, kid, I think your sister-"

"No Lessi!" You insist.

"Okay," Katie says," No Russo. Come on, let's take you inside and get you something to drink."

You don't know why you confess everything to Katie but you do. She's nice and warm and gives good hugs. Not as good as Alessia's but still good.

She keeps you with her and lets you help out in the gym before you crash out on the mats halfway through her session, one of her jackets thrown over you in lieu of a blanket.

Katie keeps working on the weights, one earphone hanging in her ear pumping music to keep her motivated while the other dangles.

It's because of that single earphone that Katie's still aware enough of her surroundings to hear the door bang open and Alessia to come tumbling through it.

"I've lost my sister!" She announces," Fuck, Katie, have you seen my sister?"

"Over by the mats," Katie replies," She was very upset. You didn't include her in training when you said you would. You gave a lot of attention to the Academy girls. She felt pretty left out."

"It was an accident!" Alessia insists," I swear! I didn't mean to."

"Hey, you don't need to convince me. Convince your sister."

You're laying on the mats, asleep under Katie's jacket, and Alessia shakes you awake. You come back into consciousness groggily and sit up, rubbing your eyes.

"Hey, tesoro," She says softly," I heard you were feeling upset."

You nod.

"I'm sorry," She says," It was my mistake. I didn't mean to leave you out. Sometimes the Academy girls need help sometimes."

"I need help too," You whisper.

"Not like them, do you know why?"

You shake your head. "Why?"

"Because you're a little superstar. They're just not as good as you."

"But they're big girls."

"Being big girls don't mean they're the best. Not like you are."

You grin up at Lessi. "Really?"

"Of course. You know I wouldn't lie to you."

[likedovesinthewindd]

What if Art donaldson wouldn't let reader break up with him and he just started to overly affectionate begging them to stay.

pls he's such a loser. need him like yesterday.

"Art, please."

Your plea fell on deaf ears as Art's lips continued trailing kisses up the expanse of your arm. The feeling of his lips so softly meeting your skin nearly made you sob. His mouth was on the inside of your elbow when you placed your right hand on the side of his face, trying to get him to atleast look at you.

Instead, he kissed your open palm, taking your wrist in his hand before detouring, now trailing kisses up your right arm. You sighed, defeated and growing frustrated. His arms wrapped around your body as his mouth moved up your arm, placing a kiss to your shoulder before his head dipped down to the dip between your neck and your shoulder.

"Please, Art," you half whined, placing your hands on his shoulders to try and pull him away, but your arms just couldn't find the strength to do so. He pulled away from your neck abruptly, making you jump a little. "You're crazy If you think I'll just throw everything away," he said, voice so soft you almost missed the anger laced in his words.

Your hands moved up from his shoulders to the sides of his face, keening at the look on his face. He looked like a kicked puppy, and you felt like the worse person on earth.

"We're drifting apart," you reasoned, your thumbs softly rubbing over the apples of his cheeks. His hands gripped both your wrists, preventing you from moving away as his face nuzzled into your left palm, kissing the skin. "We can find each other again," he countered, words muffled in your palm. You sighed at his stubbornness, pulling your hands from his face. You didn't get far, the grip he still had on your wrists tightening slightly as he brought your hands to his mouth, kissing over the knuckles of your balled fists.

"It's a dead end," you whispered, the words physically hurting your chest as you tried, and failed to keep your tears at bay. They now sat shallow in your eyes, waiting for your next cruel statement to break the dam. "You can't say that," he said, "please don't say that."

"Art—"

"I'm begging you," he interrupted you. His hands dropping yours in favor of holding your face the same way you had held his not too long ago. "I need you," he said with a kiss to your forehead. "I can't do any of this without you," he spoke against your forehead, voice breaking as he felt the hot tears roll down his cheeks. The thought of you leaving alone made his heart and chest clench painfully.

"I know we can find each other again," he said, pulling away to look you in the eyes. "Can we try," he asked, "please?"