#Damn ma I'm in love | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

misfit-megumi · 1 year ago

Text

dinner and a show - miya osamu/f!reader (haikyuu!) part 9 in the bff!osamu series tags: angst, childhood friends to pining, mama miya deserves a netflix comedy special or a nobel peace prize, sometimes home is a person and sometimes that person wants you dead, finally a bit of communication i was about to call in UN peace keepers, things r getting FEISTY FROM HERE FYI this chapter is the literary equivalent of the elevator ride at the beginning of the haunted mansion

Mama Miya has always loved variety shows.

For as long as you’ve been coming over to visit the Miya house, if the family matriarch was present, there was a better chance than not that the television in the living room was on and there was some kind of spectacle unfolding on the screen—the louder the better, in her opinion.

She’d told you once that she just loves the way people laugh on variety shows, so loudly and freely, and that there’s nothing better than the sound of a house filled with laughter—and you know from lived experience that the Miya household had never been one that was short of joy, nor of it’s own chaos, in much the same way as those outrageous shows she loves so much.

As you grew up, you came to invariably associate that particular type of television show with the woman who had raised you like a second mother; sometimes when you missed her—when you missed home—you’d put one on just to bask in the cacophonous familiarity. But watching a variety show alone in your Osaka apartment pales in comparison to watching them together in the tidy living room of the Miya home, tucked under the kotatsu, sipping tea and eating fruit and occasionally making jokes about which one of the handsome male celebrities joining that week’s episode as a guest would be a better husband—comparing their heights and their jawlines and their variously successful careers in the entertainment business.

But right now, you’re not looking at the dashing star of that new historical drama who’s trying to climb up a rock wall against a ticking clock.

Instead, you’re looking at Miya Osamu who is standing in the doorway to the living room of his family home, and he looks like he’s just seen a ghost.

Though, in his defence, you probably don’t look much better.

Cradled in your palm, your satsuma rests unmoving—frozen in place just like the rest of you. It’s half-peeled to reveal the soft, pale orange flesh hidden beneath the pith, but you barely feel the weight of it as it rests forgotten in your outstretched palm. The scent—the one that just moments prior you’d been remarking was so fresh, so bright—seems duller now. Everything that isn’t Osamu seems to slip away to grayscale and to background noise; unremarkable against the stark contrast of his painfully familiar face.

Neither of you even blink.

Miya-san had just gone to the market to pick up a few things for dinner, after repeatedly insisting that you stay for a meal and eventually wearing you down. She’d left you in the living room watching TV, promising to make her trip to the store a quick one, and otherwise ignored your offers to join her.

She was supposed to be coming back soon, at any minute really, but suddenly you’re poised to flee. Everything in your blood is telling you, urging you, to run as quickly as you can—to preserve whatever tattered shreds of your sanity remain after the past six weeks of hell.

The six weeks that had felt more like a year. A war. A lifetime.

The six weeks that had seen you finally seek refuge in Hyogo under the guise of housesitting for your parents, who had gone travelling abroad—as convenient an excuse as any to escape Osaka and the troubles that plagued you there.

Little did you know that the troubles would have the same idea as you.

Your eyes flicker momentarily in the direction of the rear door of the Miya home, the one that leads out into the backyard—the yard that backs onto a little wooded grove where you used to play as children, running carefree and wild. The grove where you used to take naps in the shade on sticky summer days. The grove where you had once broken your arm. It’s foolish, you know, to even think about leaving; your shoes and coat are at the door, with only slippers on your feet and a thin sweater on your frame. Your own childhood home may be only a few houses down and around a corner from the one where you currently find yourself, a five minute walk at most even if your pace is leisurely, but dashing out the back door and making a break for it would be inadvisable—not least of all because there is a woman due home at any moment, one who has loved and raised you like one of her own, who is expecting you to be here when she returns. A woman who wants to share a meal with you and hear about your life. A woman who doesn’t know why you had come crawling back to Hyogo.

A woman blissfully unaware of how much unresolved tension is currently polluting every inch of her living room.

Your conscience is already heavy to begin with. You’d avoided Mama Miya for the past week—having faked a cold for a few days to buy yourself some time alone when you first got to town. She’d called you every day to check in, and she brought you homemade soup and medicine more than once. The very least that you owe her is a proper visit. You can’t possibly leave now.

Osamu’s lips part, his eyes—his deep, infuriatingly kind eyes—meeting yours.

“Ma doesn’t know I’m in town,” he says, and the first sound of his voice feels like a knife between your ribs. “I can go and come back later after… after you’re gone.”

He knows, you realize. He’s watched and understood every terrible thought that has raced through your mind since the moment he entered the room play out plainly across your face. You’ve always loved that about Osamu—how you hardly need to say anything at all in his company, and he still understands your mind and feelings just by reading the lines of your features.

Now it makes you feel sort of sick.

You mull his words over belatedly, having been too shocked to digest them in the moment at which they were spoken. Slowly you nod, the slightest little dip of your chin signifying your agreement to his offer. Accepting, tenuously but decidedly, his olive branch.

He seems to deflate slightly, a flash of hurt behind his eyes.

But it’s all too late, anyway.

“Samu?” Miya-san’s voice rings out through the house, incredulous but noticeably thrilled, the sound of the front door closing punctuating the eager call like a question mark. You hear rapid footsteps and the woman appears a moment later with a wide smile on her pretty face. “What’re you doin’ here?”

She sets her shopping bags down on the floor at her feet, wrapping her son up tightly in her arms and rocking him back and forth. You watch as Osamu smiles against the crown of his mother’s head—a gentle, peaceful look on his face as his eyes flutter shut—and you avert your gaze, because witnessing the tender moment is strangely and inexplicably painful.

“Just wanted to come home for a visit,” he murmurs, and it takes everything in you not to dwell too long on the way his figure towers over his mother in your peripheral vision—tall and broad and strong now, just the way she raised him.

“Did you two plan this?” the matriarch asks. She looks between the two of you as she finally pulls away from her son’s embrace, though her palms still gently rest upon his forearms.

“Nah,” Osamu laughs lightly, and to his credit he’s doing a very good job at acting like just being in the same room as you is not one of the most hideously uncomfortable moments of his life. “I had no idea she was gonna be here.”

“You didn’t tell him?” Osamu’s mother questions you, visibly surprised. And she’s right to sound so shocked, because if this was any other day—or at least any day that didn’t follow what had transpired between the two of you six weeks ago—Osamu would have been the first person you’d have told you were coming home. Would have been kept up to date, nearly to the minute, with any stop you made in your hometown or any variety show adventures you embarked upon with his mother. Would have known exactly what the two of you were having for dinner, how it was being prepared, and he would have received a photo of the meal when it was finally time to eat just to make him jealous (and because you know he likes to feel included on the visits where he isn't able to join you.)

“Oh, he knew I came home for the week,” you lie quickly, meeting Osamu’s gaze and suddenly hoping above all else that your thoughts are as clear to him as ever. He looks more startled by the sound of your voice than you expect him to. “Just didn’t know I’d be here today, since I stopped by so last minute.”

Osamu swallows, then nods. “Yeah.”

Mama Miya smiles and clasps her hands together. “Well, this is such a nice surprise! Tsumu’s not hidin’ somewhere waitin’ to scare me, is he?”

“’S just us, Ma,” Osamu laughs lightly, and she reaches up to pinch his cheek affectionately. You don’t miss the way his eyes flicker over to you when his mother turns her back.

You’re still holding your satsuma in your hand, but you no longer have the faintest desire to eat it.

“Needa hand with those?” you hear Osamu ask his mother as she picks her shopping bags up from the ground. You hear some rustling, and can only assume she’s elbowed him based on the way he yelps and then laughs. “Ow! I’m just tryin’ to help!”

“Ya hardly just got here yourself, bag’s still at yer feet and everythin'!” his mother chides him, but it’s full to the brim with love. “Just sit down and relax for five minutes, will ya? Yer lookin’ dead tired.”

His mother waves him over insistently in the direction of the kotatsu where you’re seated before she shuffles off towards the kitchen, the plastic bags in her hands swishing as she goes.

His mother is right: Osamu looks, without softening your words, haggard. He’s got shadowy rings under his bleary eyes, his skin looks dull, and his hair still has a faint ring indented around the circumference of his head from his trademark baseball cap. He looks like he did when he first set up his business—tired, stressed, wearing a little thin at the edges from the portrait of his usual self.

You wonder if you look the same in his eyes.

Mama Miya had remarked similarly on your own appearance when you showed up at her door earlier that afternoon, but you at least had the falsified alibi of having been recently ill to hide behind.

Osamu is watching you from the doorway, still hesitating to move any closer—like a man who stumbled upon a beast in the wild, and is equally parts fascinated and petrified.

You look away.

“Sit down,” you tell him, your voice quiet and slightly cold as you stare at the orange in your hands. “She’s gonna think something’s wrong.”

Something is wrong, you both know that truth all too well, but the last thing you want is for her to know that. This entire situation between the two of you is already bad enough without the shame of other people knowing. Without his mother, of all people, knowing.

Osamu nods, and then approaches the kotatsu slowly. When he lowers himself down to the floor, he takes the seat opposite you at the small square table instead of beside you like he normally would. Something in that contrast stings a little bit, though you’re certain you’d be more upset if he was any closer than he already is—you’re suddenly exceedingly conscious of the possibility of your legs brushing underneath the table, and it makes you shift nervously, drawing your limbs as close and compact to your body as you can.

Osamu is so still on the other side of the table that it’s almost uncanny. Statuesque in a way that might make you laugh if this whole mess wasn’t so harrowing, if the wound wasn’t still so fresh. You’re not even sure he’s breathing.

“Just… be normal,” you whisper, finally setting your forsaken orange down and reaching up to rub at your temples where you feel the beginnings of a tension headache thrumming beneath the skin. You sigh, long and drawn-out. “I don’t want her to worry.”

He nods again.

The television show continues to play on across the screen beside you both, and while your eyes may be on the screen, you doubt either of you are paying much attention to it. You roll your half-peeled orange from one hand to the other idly across the tabletop, occasionally picking away at the skin.

Mama Miya appears with more plates of fruit not long after, having taken time to cut them up for you both even though she’s already busy preparing a meal in kitchen—the sounds of sizzling and her knife against the chopping board having filtered down to the living room while she worked.

“Sure ya don’t need any help in there, Ma?” Osamu asks, peering up at his mother as she cranes down to set a plate of apple slices in front of him.

“I fed you and yer brother just fine for 18 years, didn’t I? I know how to make a meal,” she jokes, returning to her full height and wiping her damp hands on the front of her apron. She glances over at you, smiling knowingly as she rests her hands on her hips. “Besides, ya haven’t seen this little thing all week—I’m surprised you two aren’t hangin’ off each other like ya usually do.”

Your eyes meet her youngest son’s, and you both quickly look away.

You can’t help but wonder if the woman before you suspects something then, even if she doesn’t say anything and in spite of your careful attempt to conceal it. But with two boys like hers, her sense of perception has long been honed to a fine art—she knows when trouble is brewing long before it strikes—and it wouldn’t surprise you in the slightest to learn that she’d known something was off even before that small slip-up. Maybe she’d known from the moment you’d shown up at her door that afternoon. Maybe she knew the second she heard from your mother that you were coming back to Hyogo.

Dinner is awkward.

Maybe not overtly—there aren’t prolonged silences, or tense stares across the table, or any real moments of palpable discomfort—but it’s a careful balancing act between you and Osamu pretending to be up to date with each other’s lives, and neither of you navigate the steps particularly gracefully. You mention one of Osamu’s employees, asking how they are and what they’ve been up to at the shop since you’ve been home in Hyogo, only for Osamu to “remind you” that they had moved up to Sendai to go to school earlier that month. He mentions a project you were tasked with at work, and you awkwardly stumble when you explain that it had changed hands a few weeks prior. He didn’t know you were “sick”, you didn’t know he’d gotten a glowing review from a notoriously harsh food critic. Neither of you even try to mention Atsumu in fear of getting the wires of your falsified stories crossed.

You try to keep quiet as much as you can, after that. You sit back in your chair, picking at your food and contenting yourself with watching the Miyas chatter away across the table before you.

Osamu and his mother eat the same. You’ve noticed it before, but now you have time to really dwell on the observation. They hold their chopsticks in the same slightly peculiar way, just a bit too far forward to seem comfortable. They pile food on their plates in the same order. They even occasionally reach to sip from their glasses at the same time.

How familiar it all is makes your chest feel achy like a bruise, because there’s an undercurrent of something being just slightly off. You’ve sat at this same dining room table a hundred times, shared meals just like this one too frequently to count them, but this time something feels different.

Fortunately there’s plenty to drink to accompany dinner, and the alcohol helps balm the sting.

Mama Miya is pouring you another glass of sake when she asks, “So are you two drivin’ back to Osaka together tomorrow?”

Osamu freezes with his chopsticks lifted half-way to his mouth, and the two of you share a glance from opposing sides of the table, trying to telepathically draft some kind of cover story. You had already told her that you were planning on heading back to the city tomorrow around noon, but you have no idea what Osamu’s plans are.

“Not sure yet,” Osamu says eventually, wiping at his mouth between bites of food. “We were plannin’ to play it by ear. I thought about stayin’ till tomorrow night since I made plans to visit Kita-san in the morning.”

Mama Miya accepts this lie easily, and the conversation continues on.

You resent how easy it is to slip into routine with Osamu. It’s been six long, terrible weeks since you last laid eyes on him, but soon you find yourselves finishing each other’s sentences, passing condiments across the table before even being asked for them, and filling each other’s glasses when they’re empty without thinking. It all comes back to you like second nature.

Because it is, maybe.

“Ya need a haircut Samu,” the woman at the head of the table says, her words a little slurred and her cheeks blazing bright pink thanks to the sake. Mama Miya loves to drink, but can’t hold her liquor for anything—it’s always reminded you of Atsumu.

“Do I?” her son reaches up and ruffles his hair absentmindedly, leaning back in his chair. “Got it under my cap so much I don’t really notice.”

His mother is right: Osamu’s hair is longer than he usually lets it get, as he tends to keep it short and easy to manage now that he’s working at the shop. It hasn’t been this long since you were in high school, and there’s a little tendril of dark hair that curls right beside his ear that you find you can’t stop staring at.

“Maybe I’ll buzz it all off,” Osamu finally says with a shrug.

You and his mother both make similar sounds of disgust.

“You and yer brother are my flesh and my blood, and I love ya more than anything,”—Mama Miya rests a hand across her chest dramatically, her expression somber—“but I’m telling ya right now yer heads were not shaped to sport buzzcuts.”

You can’t help but laugh into your hand at the impassioned remark.

“What about letting that little thing at ya again with a pair of scissors?” the woman beside you juts a thumb in your direction as she questions her son.

“Not a chance,” Osamu snorts, glancing fleetingly over to you.

You’d once cut gum out of Osamu's hair when you were both nine—a gift courtesy of Atsumu—and to the best of your recollection, you did pretty well for someone who wasn’t even tall enough to ride most of the attractions at amusement parks.

“I did a great job,” you gripe huffily as his slight.

“My hair was lopsided,” Osamu reminds you pointedly.

“Maybe I was going for something avant-garde, something high-fashion.” You roll your eyes as you reach for another piece of meat from the dish at the centre of the table—pinching it in two with your chopsticks and placing the other half onto his plate without thinking. “Guess I'm asking too much for a guy who wears that same baseball cap and cycles between three t-shirts day in-day out to understand my vision.”

Mama Miya cackles at the jibe, tipping her glass back to drain it. “Oh, you two crack me up.”

Osamu smiles a little, picking up the piece of meat you’d just given to him and popping it wordlessly into his mouth.

When dinner is done and the plate are cleared, Osamu washes the dishes and you dry them—assuming the roles you two have long claimed after sharing countless meals together. You work side by side at the sink in quiet, with just the clink of dinnerware, the sloshing of dishwater, and the sound of Mama Miya laughing along to a variety show in the other room to be heard between you.

She’s had enough sake now that you aren’t as worried about her picking up on things, so you can let the facade drop slightly—you can just exist in an uncomfortable quiet without fretting so much.

You’re not sure which is worse: the pretend ease, or the very real discomfort.

“I’m gonna head out now,” you call to the woman laying on the sofa as you poke your head through the doorway to living room, all the dishes from dinner now dried and put away. Osamu shuffles past you to take a seat beside his mother on the sofa.

She stares at him like he’s grown a second head as he settles down next to her, her lips parting as her eyes remained glued to him.

“Aren’t ya walkin’ her home?” she asks, bewildered.

As kids, neither you nor the twins had been particularly concerned with walks home—or anything remotely close to etiquette. The three of you would stand at the corner half-way between your homes, exchange a few parting words and maybe an insult or two, and then go your separate ways—only to repeat it all again the next day. But that changed in your early teens, rather unexpectedly really, and the twins have never ever let you walk home alone since.

It wasn’t always both of them accompanying you—sometimes it was just one or the other—but one of the two always made the walk alongside you, no matter how short it was, or how late it had gotten, or if the weather was unpleasant. One of the boys always followed all the way to your door and waited until they knew you made it inside, without fail. At first you found this strange development overbearing, and then humiliating when you found out that their mother had told them it was something they had to do, but over time you found that you were grateful for it.

You grew up in a very safe neighbourhood. You never felt any real danger making the short walk on your own. But doing it with the twins’ company made made you feel cared for, protected almost—even before you knew about all the terrible things out there in the world that made women need escorts home in the first place.

Osamu is quiet at your side as the two of you shuffle along towards the corner where your streets meet. He stands nearest to the roadway, with his hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket and his eyes on his feet. It’s the very same path the two of you have walked a thousand times in just the same way, no doubt your feet falling into the exact parts of the pavement they’ve already tread before. But the walk home has never felt like this. The two of you have never been so unsettled in each others’ company.

You stop when you reach the corner, your feet cementing themselves into place as solidly as the ground beneath them.

“This is far enough.”

Osamu stops, already half a step closer to your house than you are since he hadn’t anticipated your sudden halt. He looks at you, a furrow making itself known between his brow like your words aren’t quite registering in his brain. He’s never walked you just halfway before, and maybe that’s why he’s hesitating.

You blink hard a few times, then move to step past him and leave, already making plans to take an earlier train back tomorrow just to avoid running into him again. Your little neighbourhood is much smaller than Osaka, and Osamu’s presence is too loud here to ignore.

But you’re glad, at least distantly, that you made it through the evening relatively unscathed. Tender and bruised, certainly. But the wounds you’ve been trying so carefully to mend over the past six weeks seem, largely, to have stayed knitted closed.

You can see your house from the street corner as you step towards it, the windows dark and waiting for you. You’re looking forward to scrubbing the day from your skin and then crawling into bed, hoping you can forget all about—

“I’m sorry.”

Your body goes stiff, and your feet—without any conscious command—stop carrying you forward. You stand with your back to him, your shoulders rigid like raised hackles, but you know Osamu is still there.

Still watching.

Still waiting.

Your teeth bite down hard into the flesh of your cheek.

You muster every shred of resolve that you can, and weave the iron of your will into your throat to make sure your next words ring firm. “Osamu—“

“No, I need to say this,” he interrupts you before you manage to say anything at all, and he sounds desperate. “It’s all I’ve been thinkin’ about fer weeks.”

You’re angry. Furious, suddenly. A white hot rage boiling up in your throat that tastes bitter and revolting and wipes away any lingering trace of sake on your tongue. All Osamu has been doing lately is whatever the hell he wants, and it’s really starting to piss you off.

You just want to go home. You just want to throw the meagre amount of belongings you’d carted to your parent’s house with you into your suitcase, hastily dump too much water into your mother’s houseplants to hopefully get them through the weekend, and then get the hell out of Hyogo.

You don’t want to be here.

You don’t want to hear this.

“I know I’m bein' selfish. I know that all of this is because of how selfish I’ve been. What I did that night wasn’t fair.”

You’re listening to him in spite of yourself. In spite of the fury ringing in your ears. In spite of the pain in your gut that feels like stitches tearing.

“I know what I did was fucked up. That it… That I ruined somethin’. That even if you can forgive me, everythin’ will always be a bit different now because of what I did—and I am genuinely, from the bottom of my heart, sorry for that.”

You find yourself softening. Or maybe wilting slightly—withering under the warmth of his words.

“But I’m not sorry fer how I feel,” Osamu’s soft words sound remorseful only because he isn’t in the way that matters most to you. “I can’t be. I tried ‘n I can’t.”

You feel yourself shaking your head, intimating the dissent you feel but can’t bring yourself to voice. Your feet are still stuck, keeping you there. Trapped by your body against your own conscious will. You’re so nauseated you think you might be sick.

Osamu sucks in a breath that shakes on the inhale. “I’ve loved you my whole life, y’know that? I don’t even know what it feels like not to, so callin’ it that doesn’t even feel right most days,”—there’s a waver in his voice that cuts through you like a blade—“And maybe it used to be different, or maybe it’s always fuckin’ been like this, but I have been a god damn mess for the past six weeks tryin’ to think of a way that I can do this without you and I came up with nothin’, because there’s not a single part of me or my life that isn’t the way that it is because you’ve always been there.”

You’re choking. You’re choking now. You can’t swallow. You can’t breathe. Your throat is a vice that you can’t pry open, that you can force neither air nor words through when you need to. Your heart is lodged, firm and unmoving and worn raw, in the hollow of your throat.

You finally turn to look at him, but your sight is blurring at the edges.

His face is so pale that part of you—the part that has cared for him for as long as you've cared about anything—worries he might faint. His expression so grave he looks like he’s in the throes of mourning. It’s unfair that grief colours him this way. That even in this moment, under the buzzing streetlight, with the world shifting underfoot, that he should still be so handsome. That he should still look like your Samu.

“I know that this is a shitty situation that I caused. But I couldn’t do it anymore. I needed you to know how I felt—how I feel—because it was eatin’ me alive. And even without Tsumu’s party it would have happened eventually. Maybe it woulda happened better, or maybe it woulda happened worse, but it still woulda happened—because no matter how I went about it or what I’m fucking up by sayin’ it, it’s true.” Osamu squeezes his eyes shut tightly, swallows, and then opens them again to fix you in his stare. “I’m in love with you and I always have been.”

“I lost you both, Samu,” your voice is quiet and brittle when you finally find it in the knot of your throat and let it free. “I know that’s partly my fault, but I just couldn’t look at Tsumu and not see you. It hurt too much. Suddenly the two most important people in my life just weren’t there anymore. That’s not fair.”

Because this is bigger than just the two of you. It always has been.

“I’m sorry,” Osamu says to you, but his words are so faint they risk being lost in the cool evening breeze.

“Please stop apologizing to me,” the only reply you can bring yourself to utter reflects every bit of your exhaustion—your voice is flat and lifeless when you speak the words.

The two of you stand there on the street corner, the half-way point between your childhood homes, and it’s so impossibly quiet.

“I don’t know where we go from here,” you say as you pull your coat a little bit tighter around your frame, and for the first time all night it feels like the only time you’ve been truly honest.

Osamu looks at you, and if you sort through all the emotions in his eyes, you know you see the same feeling reflected back in his stare.

On Sunday evening, Osamu makes his way back to Osaka alone, and the house you grew up in is dark and empty when he passes it. As he drives back to the city, he can’t quite shake the feeling that neither of them—not Hyogo, not Osaka, nothing and nowhere in between—feel quite like home to him the same way that they used to.

#megumi reads #megumi and osamu #megumi and haikyuu #can i just say that i'm now a sobbing mess?#like this chapter wrecked my heart and soul #in the most excruciating way possible #my heart aches for samu #but my heart also aches for reader⁠– for us #damn ma this shit hurts so bad #sobbing crying wailing #i also love the fact that they had the conversation on the corner of the street #like halfway from both their homes⁠– halfway from the both of them #this is soooo BEAUTIFUL #delicious angst #that's it. just pure angst

387 notes · View notes

lymtw · 8 months ago

Text

Thinking of Toji being pulled out of sleep because he hears you whimpering beside him in your sleep. Once he wakes up, he can't get back to resting until he figures out what's going on with you. Maybe you're having a bad dream. After all, you are clutching your pillow pretty tight...

He puts a hand on your shoulder, ready to shake you. That is until you let out a moan. There's a visible 'huh' on his face as he keeps watching you to make sure he didn't mishear. His heart drops to his stomach when you sigh, your hips languidly rolling against the blanket that is bundled between your legs. Now he knows for sure that he didn't mishear you.

He chuckles quietly, his hand going up to caress your face. "Doll," he whispers, gently brushing wisps of hair away from your face. You don't respond. You stopped moving, and presumably went back to sleep. The problem is, Toji's awake now. Yes, he loves you and would guard you for years while you slumber, but right now you got him all bricked up. He can't sleep like this, but also, what's more embarrassing than getting himself off when the prettiest princess is right next to him.

"Baby," he coos, scooting closer to you. He pushes the blanket out of the way so that he can put one of your legs over his hip.

"You okay, Toji?" You mumble, slowly opening your eyes.

"Course, doll, but you're dreaming pretty loudly." He grins, throwing an arm over your waist. "Wanna talk about it?"

"What are you talking about?" You groan, still sleepy.

"Did you cum?"

Your heart stops at the question, and though your body is still in its sleepy daze, Toji could feel the tension surface.

"Could hear you moaning and whimpering like someone was giving it to you good. Was it me?"

"Toji...," you whine. "Who else would it be? Can we go back to sleep, now?"

"Hold on. Just wanna know if you finished. You know I wouldn't leave you hanging." His hands snake under your shirt.

"I did...n't. But i'm more tired than horny, Toji. Don't worry about it."

"You won't have to do a thing. All you have to do... is lay there... and look pretty for me." His lips ghost yours as his fingers snap the strap of your bra against your skin. "How's that sound, hm? Want me to ease you back into sleep?"

You can see the trace of a grin on his face. His eyes look so dark, and this rattles something deep in your core.

"Fine. Just... not too rough, please."

"Yes, ma'am," he says, trying to hold back the full wolfy grin on his face. He makes haste of taking his clothes off and when he sees you trying to do the same, he takes over and pulls your shorts and underwear off. He's above you in an instant, wedging his hips between your legs, allowing his tip to nudge through your slick folds. "Dream me really did a number on you, huh? You're so wet."

"He was a freak." You giggle, watching Toji adjust himself.

"Not freakier than me, right?" He asks, kissing up your stomach until he reaches your chest.

"He's definitely competition for you, but you're number one, baby."

Toji gives you a deadpan expression, luring a laugh from you. "So damn lucky you asked me to go easy on you." He looks at that tired smile on your face, instantly remembering his mission. "Gonna put it in, 'kay ma?"

"Okay," you murmur, reaching your hands up to caress his face.

You both go quiet for a second as he brings his cock towards your entrance. Even the gentlest of Toji's movements are hard to take sometimes, but you've always been praised by him for handling those movements so well every time. You try to mute the gasp that comes with Toji stretching you, but your discomfort is not something you can easily hide from him.

"S'all good, princess," he mumbles into your neck. He can feel you trembling as he pushes in further. "Always so good for me. You can take it, huh?"

You squeak out a little 'fuck' and are instantly soothed by Toji. "I know, I know, my pretty girl. Don't cry." He looks into your twinkling eyes and kisses away the crystals gliding down your face. You're somewhat distracted by the affectionate butterfly kisses Toji scatters on your face. He uses this as a chance to sheathe the rest of himself inside you. Another inch stuffed into you, another kiss to your lips. He can see the light way your nose scrunches, instantly catching you with a coo of "that's it, mama. That's all of it."

You shudder, sighing as you push your head back into the pillow. "Fuck. Your dick is cursed, baby."

"You love it, anyway, little masochist." He smirks.

"What's a good fuck without some pain?" You can see the way his face lights up, almost like he considered that a green light to fuck you like an animal. "Ah, no," you intervene so quickly. "You're easing me back to sleep."

"Right." He stifles a laugh. "Let's get on that then."

It doesn't usually go this way with Toji. He likes to show off his strength against you, be it breaking your back when you arch over the crushing orgasms he gives you or holding you down when you try to squirm away from his overstimulating touch.

Somehow you got him to slow down for you this time, and the prize is you getting to mumble sweet nothings to him. His reward is that he gets to stay in gentle control. You tell him you love him and he responds with a little "mhm". You tell him you wouldn't go anywhere without telling him first but he doesn't read into the code in your message, so he smiles and says "you'd get lost, and I'd have to find you." You tell him you're glad you get to sleep next to him and he chuckles in your ear, responding with a non-threating "dick's got you all emotional, baby?"

You laugh it off, not taking it to heart. "Just love being close like this with you is all."

It goes quiet for a minute, only your little breaths and Toji's pants filling the silence. Toji can hear your heartbeat as he rocks both of you. Your heels dig into his lower back, your nails dragging across his shoulder blades. "Fuck, princess. I'll bust if you keep scratchin' me up like that." His lips ghost the column of your neck before latching on and working a mark into your skin. Your thighs squeeze against his waist as he grazes your sweet spot repeatedly.

Toji knows you well enough to know that that's a tell-tale sign that you're about to cum, so he makes his touch overwhelming. His hands run up your body until he reaches your chest, where he teases your nipples until your stomach starts quivering and you start breathing shakily. He massages your hips with his thumbs, while pressing kisses to your jaw with little murmurs of, "show me how good you feel" and "come on, baby."

"Fuck, princess..." he groans, almost reaching his own peak. "I wanna hear you. None of that covering your mouth or biting your tongue shit."

You folded so quickly after that, gasping like the air was sucked out of your lungs. "G-Go- Oh god! Fuck, Toji... I-"

"Mhm... fuck yeah, baby. T-That's good, so fuckin' good," he groans, rutting into you as he spews out his load. You put your hands up to his chest, pushing weakly as the overstimulation starts kicking in. He pants, trying to catch his breath as he slows to a halt. "So good for me, mama," he mumbles into your neck, his cock still buried in your soaked cunt. "No one deserves you." He presses a few more kisses onto your shoulder before getting off of you. Your eyes shut for seconds at a time every time you blink, meaning you could knock out any moment now. Any other day, the sight of cum drooling out of your pussy would incite another round, but Toji said he would fuck you to sleep, and he kept his word. The session concluded and now he gets to clean you up while you rest.

5K notes · View notes

landoughnut · 29 days ago

Text

Mine All Mine

♡ masterlist - request!

♡ pairing - oscar piastri x fem!reader (fc - hailee steinfeld)

♡ summary - (request :) oscar obsessing over his girlfriend on the internet!

♡ warnings - horny/simp oscar, crack, some fluff, some cursing, use of y/n

♡ w/c & a/n - smau | thank you so so much for requesting!! i hope you enjoy lovely xx

oscarpiastri HEYYYY LOVEEEE

yourusername HIIIIII SWEETHEART

oscarpiastri wow wow WOW 🤩 liked by yourusername

username she's so 😍

oscarpiastri tell me about it 😩

danielricciardo AUSSIE AUSSIE AUSSIE

oscarpiastri OI OI OI

yourusername my fav aussies 🥹

landonorris lets gooo 🔥

yourusername cant wait to see you black out drunk tonight 🫡

oscarpiartri i am NOT getting thrown up on by him again. you can walk his drunk ass back to the car this time

landonorris I SAID I WAS SORRY 😣

oscarpiastri sorry doesn't heal my trauma

yourusername stop being dramatic oscar 😭

oscarpiastri you're right sorry love 🥺

zendaya BEAUTYYY

yourusername SAYS YOU 😘

oscarpiastri you're right MY girlfriend is such a beauty 🥵

zendaya oh hell nah 😭 stay mad i had her first

oscarpiatri go back to your british boy 👹

yourusername ladies ladies there's enough of me to go around 😎

oscarpiastri UGHHH ON MY KNEESSSSS 😻🙇

yourusername later babe 😉

oscarpiastri 👅

pierregasly EW YALL FREAKS

oscarpiastri 😺

alex_albon I MISS THE CUTE AND SHY OSCAR

oscarpiastri you think im cute?🥺

alex_albon ...

mclaren guys..........

username PICK ME CHOOSE ME LOVE ME

oscarpiastri no no and no ☺️ she picked, chose, and loves ME 😂

oscarpiastri YOU ARE SO HOT AND SEXY AND FINE AND PRETTY

yourusername NO YOU AREEE 🫵🏻🥰

oscarpiastri HEHEHEHE IM BLUSHING

landonorris can confirm ✅

oscarpiastri my pants are kinda tight rn

charles_leclerc AYOOO GROSS 🤮

carlossainz55 I DID NOT NEED TO KNOW THAT EW

landonorris STOP OMG IM RIGHT NEXT TO U

yourusername HELP ME LMAOAOAOAO

mclaren no words.

yourusername close your eyes admin 😶😨

username IM CRYING OSCAR TMIII

oscarpiastri im just a boy with a hot gf 🥺🎀

username its okay king im with you 🧱

oscarpiastri you are disgusting wtf blocked 🤢

arianagrande MY GIRL 💋

yourusername ARI 💗

oscarpiastri *cough* MY girl *cough*

mclaren the prettiest ever 🧡 liked by yourusername

oscarpiastri HOLY MOLY liked by yourusername

oscarpiastri PHEW WEE MAMA liked by yourusername

oscarpiastri IM DROOLINGGGG LOVE 🤤

yourusername I LOVE YOU OSC

oscarpiastri I LOVE YOU MOST ❤��

charles_leclerc red for ferrari?

oscarpiastri 🧡* never.

scuderuaferrrari damn it 😕

mclaren thats our boy 😁

lewishamilton loved the movie!!

yourusername im so glad !! 🥰

tomholland2013 andrew told me to comment that he loved working with you!! and i also think the movie was amazing 😊

yourusername thank you to both of you!! im happy you liked it tom :)

zendaya WE* loved it, you ate babes

yourusername just date me already z 🛐

oscarpiastri hello?? no wtf

zendaya you cant come between our love aussie boy

oscarpiastri maybe not, but ik smt else I can come in between

maxverstappen1 LOG OFFF

georgerussell63 SOMEONE TAKE THIS KIDS PHONE AWAY

yukitsunod0511 im telling a trusted adult 😟

landonorris IM TELLING YOUR MOM

oscarpiastri NO PLEASE

mclaren two strikes. one more and your out.

oscarpiastri since when is f1 baseball

username YOU ARE SO GORGEOUS

oscarpiastri GORGEOUSLY MINE

username chill bro no ones stealing her ☺️

oscarpiastri IM SO PROUD OF YOU DARLING

yourusername thank you love 💕🥹

username THE MOVIE WAS SO GOOD

yourusername yay im so happy you enjoyed it!! ❤️

username OMG ILY

oscarpiastri yall wouldn't believe how easy that dress was to remove

yourusername OML OSCAR NO

carlossainz55 STOPPPPPPP

alex_albon ENOUGH

yukitsunoda0511 m-ma pick me up i'm scared

yourusername NOOO MY BBY YUKI IM SORRY 🙁

landonorris why are you always talking abt ur adult time online

oscarpiastri IF YALL DONT WANT TO SEE THEN GET OFF MY GFS PAGE 🙄

mclaren and thats strike three, my office in 30 - zak

landonorris oooo you're in trouble 😂🫵🏻

kimkardashian gorgeous

yourusername 💋

emmawatson beautiful girl 💞

yourusername coming from the definition of beauty herself 🥹

yourusername OMG OSCAR ��🥹🥹 liked by oscarpiastri

yourusername IM GONNA CRY

oscarpiastri dont cry love im not there to kiss the tears away ☹️

username 🥹 them >>>>>>>

yourusername I LOVE YOU SO MUCH 🙁

oscarpiastri I LOVE YOU FOREVER AND EVER ♾️

yourusername you are prettier than all the sunsets

oscarpiastri i just shed a few tears

landonorris can confirm ✅

charles_leclerc are my eyes deciving me?

maxverstappen1 a... nice caption??

carlossainz55 very pg... so refreshing

username when i pull up to the who loves y/n most contest but oscar piastri is also there 🚪🏃💨

oscarpiastri easiest win of my life

yourusername osc love 🥹

username AWHHHHHHH

username ladies get yourself a man who loves you like how oscar loves y/n liked by oscarpiastri

lewishamilton my favorite couple 💙 liked by oscarpiastri

username she's so stunning 😍

oscarpiastri righttt 🥺

yourusername i like the view

oscarpiastri you do?

yourusername yes

oscarpiastri you're my best view

yourusername nah

username LMAOAOAOAOOAAO I FORGOT ABOUT THAT MEME

username ICONIC

tchalamet wow

username commenting this on OSCARS post is wild

username bros brave for that

username 1, 2, oscars coming for you 👀

landonorris THE AUDACITY

oscarpiastri i see you little french boy.

oscarpiastri if i see another comment or like from you ill hit you with my car so fast you'll go flying back to your little chocolate factory.

mclaren for legal reasons this IS a joke 😅

yourusername TIMOTHÉE IM SO SORRY DONT MIND HIM IM A BIG FAN OF YOU 🫶

tchalamet 😅 i'm scared to say thank you

oscarpiastri good 🙃

username LMAOAOOAOOAOAAO TIMMYS TRAUMATIZED

oscarpiastri ugh guys she's just JDNBGEBGW

oscarpiastri you guys dont even get it

oscarpiastri i wake up and see her and just 🥲 thank the lord

username AWHHHHHHHHH

alex_albon i didn't know he could be so sweet

yourusername IM GOING TO CRY ILYSM.

oscarpiastri and i love you more 💞

username i'm only following oscar for the y/n content

oscarpiastri thats so valid.

zendaya same.

1K notes · View notes

chrissturnsfav · 2 months ago

Text

𝒻𝓇𝑒𝓈𝒽 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 | 𝘤𝘩𝘳𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘰𝘭𝘰

chris sees you walking around in nothing but one of his black fresh love hoodies and black thong. he can't help but stare, thinking about all that he wants to do to you right now.

ᰔᩚ smut, unprotected p in v (wrap it b4 you tap it), use of y/n, use of pet names (mama, baby, ma), dom!chris, bf!chris, teasing, dumbification kink, backshots, LOTS of dirty talk

ᰔᩚ w.c. 1,621

ᰔᩚ inspiration from fresh lovin' w/ chris by @pearlzier

chris is sat on his bed, mindlessly scrolling through tiktok as he waits for you to come back downstairs. you had left a few minutes ago to grab a drink, but chris was wondering why the fuck it was taking you a few minutes to get a drink.

your boyfriend is snapped out of his thoughts when you open his bedroom door again, returning. his eyes widen at the sight of you, the clothes you'd been wearing earlier had been discarded. now you were in just one of his black fresh love hoodies and your black thong you already had on, you're holding just a bottle of water.

chris scoffs, sitting up in his bed and resting his hands on his knees, licking his lips, "the fuck did your clothes go?" he says, watching your every move as you climb back onto his bed next to him.

you smirk, shrugging as you twist off the cap on the water, "i dunno. i got kinda hot, i guess."

chris chuckles dryly, looking you up and down as he takes in your body. your bare thighs, the way the straps of your thong sat highly above your hips, the hoodie baggily laying on your body—obvious that you rolled up the bottom so your ass was out.

he shakes his head, clearing his throat before speaking again, "you know what you're doin', y/n."

you chuckle, confused, pretending like you didn't know what he was talking about—knowing damn well you did. "what are you saying, chris?" you say in a sassy tone, putting the water bottle to your lips and taking a few sips.

chris kisses his teeth, looking at you with lust in his eyes as he shifts his position slightly close to your body. "tryna play stupid now? is this what you're doin'?" he says in a low tone, suddenly running a hand up from your knee to your thigh.

you swallow the water, shuddering slightly at his touch before speaking, trying to hide the way he was making you feel, "i don't know what you're talking about," you say softly, staring into his eyes as his blue ones pooled with desire burned back into yours.

chris smirks, his gaze not leaving yours as he rolls his tongue along the inside of his cheek. "yeah. you do," he insists. his hand that ran up your thigh trails to the waistband of your thong, tracing it along your hips and his smirk grows wider when you gasp. "barely even touched ya and you're already gettin' all worked up."

you shake your head, knowing he was right, but you wanted to remain calm and confident, "i'm not worked up," you lie, watching as chris' hand continues to trace the lace pattern on the waistband of your thong.

chris scoffs, looking at his actions, then back up at you before leaning close to your ear, "bet you're all wet down there. should i check?” he teases.

you swallow hard, shaking your head again, "i'm not, chris," you lie straight through your teeth, feeling yourself getting wetter by the second.

chris tilts his head, swiping his tongue across his lips as he looks at you intently. he chuckles dryly before his hand moves down to run his middle finger across your damp thong. he scoffs when he feels how wet you are, smirking as he hears you gasp at his actions. he leans close to your ear, whispering in it, "liar."

you shudder, gasping again when his hand moves inside your thong, running a finger through your sopping folds and he laughs dryly, watching your eyes flutter closed before he speaks in your ear again, "told ya. soaked."

you whine in response, gasping once again when his two fingers move to rub circles on your clit. your head falls back as chris watches you, his own crotch growing tight at the sight of you.

"p-please..." you whine with your eyes pinched shut, head against his pillows. he chuckles, his actions on your clit only getting faster, "what do ya want, then? tell me," he says, the smirk never leaving his face.

you open your eyes slightly, looking up at him, "i want...i want you to fuck me..." you let out through deep moans.

chris chuckles under his breath, licking his lips, "gotta ask nicely, baby. only good girls get what they want, right?" he growls.

you hum out a moan in response, nodding. "p...please, chris...please i need you now."

chris smirks, nodding his head as he takes his hand out of your thong, "atta girl," he purrs, flipping you over onto your stomach swiftly.

he pulls down his sweatpants just enough to let his now rock-hard length free. he pulls your panties down and off your ankles, throwing them across the bed. your head is pressed against the pillows, anticipating chris' actions as your body overflows with desire.

chris would normally be taking your hoodie off, but you were wearing his brand, and he wanted to fuck you in it. it only made sense. the thought of him fucking you in fresh love only turned him on more.

chris strokes himself a few times, humming quietly before pressing his tip against your core. you groan softly in response and he smirks at your sounds.

without warning, chris pushes into you fully. his lips part as a small moan leaves his mouth, earning a loud one from you.

chris picks up a quick and hard pace, watching as you moan loudly. profanities and his name fall from your mouth and grunts leave his own. he has one hand on your ass, grabbing it roughly and the other on the small of your back, pushing it down to force you to arch.

your eyes are rolling back into your head, brows knit together in pleasure and your lips parted as chris mercilessly pounds into you. "fuck...so fuckin' tight f'me, ma," chris groans and you moan softly in response.

chris' bottom lip was tucked between his teeth, his eyebrows pinched together and he reached a hand around you, pulling your head up by your neck as he leaned his body down so his face was inches apart from yours.

"y'like this shit?" he grunts into your ear, panting against your face. you couldn't respond, only able to focus on the pure ecstasy you're receiving.

chris chuckles out a groan at your expression, watching as you struggle to form words. "'s the matter, ma? 'm that fuckin' good, you can't even talk?"

you force yourself to nod, trying desperately to answer him as his hips only move faster into you. "m...m....y...yeah," you manage to let out in between heavy moans and deep pants.

chris scoffs, watching your face twist in overwhelming pleasure as you practically drool. "look at you. gettin' fucked dumb by my cock," he groans into your ear.

you feel yourself getting closer, knowing you're not going to be able to hold on for long if he asks you to. you whimper out a loud moan, chris' grip on your neck getting tighter. "c...c....chris....s...so close!"

chris chuckles dryly, moving his hand on your ass to your clit, rubbing fast circles on it as he continues to pump in and out of you, "mmm, yeah? already?"

you nod eagerly, moaning as your high gets closer and tears pool at the corners of your eyes at the immense amount of pleasure. "p...p...please...chris...i...can't....can't hold it...." you barely speak.

chris licks his lips, grinning a smirk. "nah, you wanna walk around in that thong wearin' my shit, bein' a tease?" he tuts, "nah, you're gonna hold it f'me."

you cry out a moan, giving everything you have to not cum right on his cock and feeling overstimulated as his thumb on your clit rubs faster. "c...chris! p-pleease...i...i can'ttt!"

chris groans, feeling himself getting close and watching as you struggle to hold back, "ya better not...hold up...almost there—fuck," he grunts.

at this point you're not able to hang on any longer. your eyes are rolled all the way back, mouth fallen open, brows pinched together as you ache for release, "chrisss...fuck! i...i gotta...c...cum! p...please!"

chris feels his orgasm seconds away as his thrusts get more and more sloppy. he moves his thumb on your clit off, placing his hand back on your ass. his grip on your neck becomes slightly tighter and he groans. "shiiit...cum for me, baby."

you waste no time in cumming all over his dick as you yelp out, face grimaced in pleasure. you open your eyes, vision blurred as chris continues to fuck you, helping you ride out your high.

"fuuck, you're gonna make me cum," chris grunts. he hardly thrusts one last time into you before pulling out, releasing his cum on your ass as his eyes roll back and his lips part.

chris breathlessly rolls over next to you, watching your body go limp as you lay on your stomach trying to catch your breath.

"fuck, chris..." you breathe out, closing your eyes in exhaustion as chris pulls his sweatpants and boxers back up.

chris chuckles dryly, looking at you with tired eyes, "wore ya out, huh?"

you nod, moving your body closer to him. he wraps his arms around your waist as you pull the covers over your bodies. you nuzzle your head against his chest, draping an arm lazily across his back.

"want me to get you anything, or you're good?" chris mumbles before resting his chin on top of your head.

you shake your head, eyes fluttering closed. "no...i'm okay...just take a nap with me."

chris chuckles, pulling your body closer to him and intertwining a leg with yours, "yes ma'am," he mumbles.

𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿'𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲: yay first smut woohoo (sorry if it wasn't that good, i'm still learning LMAO)! kinda sappy and i don’t love the theme but guys pls lmk if you liked this and what else you would wanna see bc i love love love feedback and wanna give u guys what u want ofc! this also turned out sm longer than expected lol oops...

thank you for reading!! <3

@chrissturnsfav ™

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #fresh love #sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo triplets #writing #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #youtube #sturniolo x you #sturniolo fanfic #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #nick sturniolo smut #nicolas sturniolo

1K notes · View notes

lumibuns-blog · 30 days ago

Text

Ghost x Soap's roomie

Ghosts and Gaz stay the week and Soap's apartment. Ghost falls head over heels for you and can't seem to think of anything else.

its just two idiots in love at this point and also Soap and Gaz are there too lmao. I have more for this concept on my page or under the tag if you like it💪

Dinner was finished quicker than Simon would have preferred considering he still couldn't get the image of your sly smile out of his head, not to mention the piece of food he was sure was stuck in his throat from the laughing fit you had sent him and Gaz into with your well timed nut-tap. You were intoxicating to him, it was almost insufferable how unable he was to get your voice, your face, your figure, everything, out of his head. He could swear that he's never felt this way before about anyone, ever. It was like the moment he set eyes on you, his mind had made itself up and all he could do was let himself fall even further and further in love with you.

So he now watched as you forced a very upset Soap to do the dishes, not without great effort.

"aw 'bon why tha' hell do I have'ta do this shite it's fuckin feechie" he whined

"'cause I do the cooking, that's the deal we have" you bit back "plus, I've cleaned our bathroom before" you turned to face both Simon and Kyle, Simon couldn't help but notice he was the one you locked eyes with "you wanna see nasty, use the shower when he's finished" you sighed

"oye! Not fair" Johnny warned, an accusing finger pointed towards you "you shed more than a hound when 'ure in there, ya clog the damn drain"

"excuse me! I clean up after myself at least, any hair you find in there is yours!" you yelled back, clearly embarrassed

"nae, ma' hair ain't long with split ends, er' whateva' the hell 'ure always moanin' 'bout in there"

you had half a mind to hit him across the face for that, "I don't know, hairs getting a little long there princess" you teased, gesturing to his grown out mohawk "need to get it trimmed? or you worried they might leave you looking bald again like last time?" you grinned

"awe no way!" Gaz grinned "you got pictures?" he ran over to you. Simon was curious too but didn't make a show of it, settling to sit back with his arms crossed instead, surveying the chaos.

"sure do" you beamed, ready to pull out your phone

"Naw naw!" Johnny scrambled to intercept his friend "nae happenin'"

you flung the phone behind you, out of his reach "then wash the fucking dishes man" you scoffed, shoving the sponge into his chest "thought they called you Soap for a reason?"

"feckin whatever" Johnny groaned, returning to the sink and flicking the tap on

you beamed and turned to head towards your room, calling out your dibs on the shower. Not before holding your phone up to Kyle and Simon, mouthing an 'I'll show you later' before slipping out of view.

"cheeky little mother fucker..." Soap mumbled, the half smile on his face turning into a look of disgust as he touched some wet food.

"so...." Gaz started after a moment "Never did decide where we 'going to be sleepin' mate?"

"well 've only got two beds" Johnny said, back turned to his friends "an' mine can only fit one a you's plus ma'self" he continued "an' like -ell I'm not going to sleepin on 'ma own bed while 'm home , so one ya will have-tae take the couch" he paused "unless the other one wants to bunk up with 'er" he laughed

Simon froze simply at the idea, suddenly incredibly uncomfortable in his slacks at the thought of being right up next to you while you rested. If you were closer would be be able to put his hands of you? trace the contours of your waist with his finger tips, burry his nose in the back of your head and wrap his hulking arms around your smaller figure? Feel the curve of your ass as you pressed against-

he bit the inside of his cheek and gripped the counter top so hard his knuckles turned white, "I'll take the couch" he huffed "'ure smaller anyway" he gestured to Kyle

"Whateva' mate" Gaz rolled his eyes, taking his friends jab in stride.

You had claimed dibs of the shower first because you were well aware that three, probably filthy, men (all of which had to be over 6 feet) were bound to need to use it as well and it would be pointless to try and wash your hair after that disaster.

"I'm done!" you called absentmindedly from the hallway, a towel wrapped around your body, wet hair sticking to your neck and back. Simon had found a very interesting part of the ceiling to focus on while you went back to your room, "try to not blow the thing up, I've got a down payment on this thing" you said, closing the door behind you.

silence fell over the room once again, as all three men glanced between themselves. Gaz was first, he took off at a run towards the bathroom door, determined to be second. Soap started off not more then a moment after him,

"aye ya prick, it's my house this?!" he grabbed for Gaz who held on steady to the door

"exactly mate! we're the guests!" Kyle chided "so be a good host 'an bugger off!"

"Nae 'm not lettin' you's skimp me outta a hot shower" Soap yelled attempting to pull Gaz back, but the man had such a a tight hold on the door he might've pulled out the hinges first.

you reopened the door after hearing the chaos, still in only a towel "the hell is-?" you were cut off almost immediately by ghost stepping in, he grabbed them both by the back collars of their shirts with what seemed like minimal effort, and pulled them off each other.

"Gaz you go first," he growled "Johnny, at least finish drying the bloody dishes before you go runnin' off" he shoved your roommate back into the kitchen

"Lt.! 's no fair he's goin' first! Why do you get to decide?" Soap griped

"on base 'er not, 'm still in charge." Simon said plainly, narrowing his eyes towards his friend, "just be lucky I'm the one yellin' at you for tusslin' around inside"

"In 'ma own home!" Johnny threw his hands up in defeat as Gaz pumped his fist before closing the bathroom door.

for a moment, your eyes met Simon's as you peaked from behind your door and they lingered there. His gaze was so was piercing as he glared from above his mask, that he had (unfortunately) put back in after dinner. His eyes only remained that way for a moment however, for as soon as they met yours, they softened. The harsh lines fell away instantly and his pupils began to dilate when they met yours, not aware you had been watching the whole ordeal.

'why did his eyes have to be so pretty?'

He coughed quickly, tearing his gaze from you before returning to the kitchen himself. Leaving you awe struck, fanning your face behind the closed door of your room.

When it was finally time for him to take a shower, Simon allowed himself a moment of respite in the bathroom before actually cleaning himself off. Away from Johnny's teasing glances and their incessant banter that he hated to admit he had come to be too fond of to reprimand them for, and they knew that all to well. Above all else though, it was a moment to internally process seeing you in nothing but a towel because when he had tried to think it over out there, the evidence of that was all too noticeable. You had looked so fucking good, wet hair, glossy skin, that towel that did absolutely nothing to cover up the swell of your tits as you pressed it to your chest. Even the simple fact that your cheeks still flushed from the heat of the shower sent his whole body into overdrive.

'shit- right, the shower.'

He broke from his thoughts to finally enter the shower but that did nothing to aid him in his situation. On the ledge was your shampoo and various other soaps, much like how your side of the sink was covered in various products and bottles he couldn't name even if he tried. Johnny's side had a toothbrush that was joined by Gaz's wash bag, and that was it. In the shower however, he only saw what were clearly your products. He grumbled and opened the door just a crack,

"Either 'a you got any shower gel?" He yelled through the crack, rather embarrassed at his current situation, "lef' mine at base."

"jus' use 'er's!" Johnny called back from his spot on the couch "'s what I do anyway..."

"You what?!" you yelled from across the flat

"dumbass" Kyle scoffed

"kidding, kidding!" Johnny laughed "Mines the one with the green lid mate, ya don' see it?"

"Fuckin hell...neva'mind!" Ghost responded, closing the door again. He swore he wasn't seeing straight. It didn't help that the whole bathroom already smelt like you, your intoxicating scent invading every breath he took. But to use your products? That was some shit couples do, and he had to stop his mind from getting away from him with that fantasy.

Stepping into the shower once more he located Johnny's soap. Spring rain?, no fucking wonder he hadn't noticed it, who would've thought Soap would use something like this? He quickly washed himself and got dressed, rubbing his hair dry with a towel as he exited the bathroom.

You stood in the kitchen, a large sweatshirt dwarfed your frame. You seemed to be waiting for the kettle of the stove to heat up as you noticed his presence.

"oh I can take that" you smiled, walking over to him and holding out your hand to take his towel from him.

He very reluctantly gave it to you, worried it would smell bad or have something gross on it he hadn't even realized. "was just about to start another lode anyway" you chimed, opening up the closet door and throwing it in the machine before starting it.

Simon couldn't help himself "Colors I'm assuming?" he joked

you whipped around to face him "Now don't you start" you scolded, but the smile and deep red of your cheeks was unmistakable, "Johnny's enough to deal with on his own" you headed back to your kettle

"'m sorry, I'll try to be less of a pain in the arse to ya than he is" Simon chuckled

"that's a low bar" you laughed dully "but thank you"

Simon found conversation to flow freely with you, like it does with the rest of his team but only after he had gotten close to them. He had only known you for a day but still found it so natural to speak to you (if he ignored the deafening sound of his heartbeat and the massive lump in his throat).

"want any tea?" your offer broke the silence as you grinned and held up the now boiling kettle.

"uh- sure" he nodded, was his heart getting louder?

you tossed open one of the cupboards "pick your poison" you chirped, gesturing the stocked shelf of teas.

he rounded the island to inspect the selection, peering over you in such a way that his form eclipsed yours and forced you to move back against the counter top. You held your breath.

"'ere" he handed a small tin containing a non-caffeinated herbal blend down to you and stepped away "is it any good?" he asked, pointing lazily at the tin that you now held.

you tried to shrug your flustered feelings away "Better be, 's what I'm having" you turned to grab him a mug from the shelf.

Simon smiled to himself at the knowledge he picked the same type of tea as you purely by coincidence. Moments later you were handing it to him, "here ya go Ghost" you said placing the hot mug in front of him

"Simon." he responded plainly

"Hm?" you tilted your head a bit

"Simon's fine, ya don't need to be calling me that 'Ghost' shit 'ere" he was staring holes into the kitchen island, wondering if it was weird for him to be asking you to call him by his given name.

"Alright, Simon it is then" you beamed, not missing a beat

christ his name sounded so good when you said it

"sorry guess it was just habit, seeing as thats what Johnny calls you whenever he's home"

"'s fine" he mumbled, a brief pause hung in the air as you both took your first sips of tea. You were right, it was good.

"where they at anyway?" Simon tried to fill the silence

"probably giggling under the covers by now" you scoffed "why? trying to get rid of me?" you joked

"'s not it" Simon answered quickly

"I know I know- I'm just teasing" you smirk "Johnny told me you were a bit quiet so don't feel pressured to talk 'er anything"

He appreciated the sentiment, but not talking to you was possibly the last thing he wanted to do right now. "What else does the little twat say?" Simon asked, a little gruffer than he intended to sound, but his reputation was on the line here.

"Oh just stories from all the dangerous stuff you all get up to, usually the ones where he can say he was the hero" you fully laughed and it sounded like music to Simon's ears "That and he complains about all the work he has to do, usually when he wants to get out of chores"

"sounds 'bout right" Simon smiled lightly and you could have sworn it was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen.

At least you didn't think he was some sulking, menacing, edge-lord. I mean he most certainly was most times but he would really prefer it if you didn't think of him like that. Now he just had one more thing to clear up.

"jus' so ya know... I- I didn't use your body wash" he practically had to shove the words out of his mouth he was so tense, but to his surprise you just laughed.

You smiled brightly and waved your hand dismissively, "Don't worry I didn't think you had, I don't blame you for not finding his soap though" you held your mug close to your chest and smiled fondly "He used to use that Head and Shoulder's stuff, you know the one? Anyway, it was nasty so I got him some better stuff and he actually likes it, even if he complains he smells 'like a chick' now" you put that last part in air quotes.

"fair", the soap Simon used on base was Head and Shoulder's. He made a mental note to throw it out and get better stuff the second he got back.

Conversation flowed freely for the next couple minutes as you both finished your drinks, you mostly asked about what it was like living on a military base and he asked about a bit about your graduate studies. Happy just to learn anything about you. When you set your empty mug down on the kitchen counter, he silently glided over with his own and took your mug in his other hand, filling them with water in the sink.

"you really don't have to do that, but thank you" you smiled softly, a yawn escaped you, feeling the tiredness begin to catch up with you.

"don't mind it" he dried his hands off with the kitchen towel. When he looked back at you his heart swelled. you were smiling lightly in the dimly lit kitchen, eyes squinting from even that being too much light. You swayed back and forth slowly, heading nodding slightly every couple of moments. He felt bad for keeping you up but more than that he wished he could just pick you up and whisk you off to bed, curling up next you you and letting you snuggle into his chest. But there was no way he could do something like that, not now anyway, so he settled for the next option

"you look like you're about to fall over love, off to bed now" he said, his voice quiet and gentle as patted you on the back and steered you towards your room.

"aye aye captain" you lazily saluted him and he couldn't help but smile "let me know if ya need anything" you called from the hall "night!"

"yeah g'night" he groaned, shoving himself onto the couch that was much too small for him. He would rather freeze than make you get up to get him another blanket or something. And even though he felt perfectly comfortable he couldn't seem to get to sleep, his heart was just too loud.

*I might make Price come over to give the boys something they left behind just so he can meet/flirt with reader and Simon and get all grumpy and jealous cuz it would be cute <3

Tags:

@sleep101 @urbimom @noisydelusionlove @plk-18 @pinkyfqiry @wwe1rdc0re @vmaxis @jenlvr01 @lovelovelovelovelove987654321 @ifsunmibts @callmeluno @nina-from-317 @strawberrygateau @leryg0 @weemansoap @dreamtofus @imjustheretofightforlove @electricmentalitypersona

835 notes · View notes

sinisternymphette · 6 months ago

Text

everybody loves my baby

an historical au | 1930's florist!reader x dilfgangster!rafe (minors dni)✶

tw: v!olence, sex

✶ gangster!rafe, who makes sure everyone knows that you're off limits. Whether it is by gently placing his hand on the back of your soft neck and slowly caressing it with his calloused knuckles, using one of his large fingers to softly trail down one of your arms while the both of you are sitting next to each other in a restaurant, putting his muscled arm around you like a mantle, giving you warmth and comfort, and even taking your hand in his to plant a kiss on the palm as he closes his eyes and sniffs to take in your scent without the care of what others might think of your intimacy. You were his and he was yours, and that was truly all that mattered.

✶ gangster!rafe, who would do anything to protect you. Literally. If anyone ever laid a hand on his pretty little florist, they'd have to go through him, and it certainly wouldn't end so jolly.

"You dared to touch my woman, hm. Well, not so confident now, are you."

he said in a low, menacing chuckle as he shook his head slowly, cornering the man before him in the lonely and dimly lit corridor behind the bar. He had gone to the washroom for just one minute- one minute without you in his plane on sight, and a man walked over to you and started complimenting you before giving you a rose. That wasn't the problem though. When you thanked him kindly and smelled the rose, he pulled his arm up to brush a strand out of your face. And so, he had to take the matter to his own hands.

"Now now, i'm sure you're a good fella and understand that it was just a minor misunderstanding!"

the man quickly said in a pleading tone, obvious fear in his wide eyes, which were easily comparable to a frightened doe's, before proceeding to pat Rafe's shoulder with one of his shaking hands- almost as if they were old friends. Rafe shook his hand away in a swift motion, as if he had just been touched by a rat who had come out off a trash can. He punched the man on his ribcafe after his fake of a charming smile vanished and turned into a dark frown as if he was no longer who he was before. His other hand reached to the other's mouth as the man made muffled yowls of pain. He, however, didn't even flinch once.

"You're damn lucky i'm a generous man, so make sure to take this as a lesson for the future, yes? to keep your hands to yourself? wouldn't want to cut all your fingers off and make a mess on my shirt."

he then smirked almost playfully, his expression once again changing in a matter of seconds before moving his hand up and shaking it, then putting it inside the pockets of his brown pants and using the other in order to adjust his white, high quality long-sleeved shirt. The man was now practically on the floor, whimpering as he crouched against the stone wall behind him as he shamefully covered his face with his shaking hands. It was truly an embarrassing sight. Once Rafe was finished, he turned his back and opened the back door to the bar, tilting his head to the side and staring at him one last time.

"If you'll excuse me, I have to get back to more important matters- the wonderful evening I was having with her before you, very rudly I might say, abruptly interfered."

✶ gangster!rafe, who likes giving you nicknames that represent your beauty such as 'dollface', 'peach', and his personal favorite, 'dandelion'. You absolutely adore them too- the way they always roll off his tongue so sweetly, like butter being spread on a slice of bread. He's a man who admires and cares for your body, your mind and very being as if you were a princess or a delicate porcelain vase with beautiful painted flowers.

"Look at you, m' pretty dandelion all dolled up for me." he murmurs as he carefully places his head over your shoulder, blue orbs looking into your eyes through the mirror of your bedroom while his hands found your waist and gently nestled around it. His lips were slightly curved upwards, making the hint of his smile shown to you. One of his fingers traced small circles on your waist, making you let out a small and flustered chuckle as you covered your mouth with one of your hands in a polite manner to hide it. You were wearing one of your newer dresses- a pretty light blue polka-dotted dress that perfectly hugged your figure. This, was one of the many dresses Rafe gifted you in the past two weeks. Your lips had red tint and your cheeks had a faint pink color on them- a little bit of makeup, but not too much. His eyes trailed down, all the way to the contour of your legs and to the white leathered heels you were wearing. in his eyes, you truly were a work of art- like a Renaissance painting that had come to life. Now, he was a man that firmly believed that actions spoke more than words, so as soon as his eyes met with yours once again, he planted sweet kisses on your neck alongside little nibbles. This, was his own way of letting you know that you looked absolutely stunning.

✶ gangster!rafe, who, despite having so much blood on his hands, is always careful with you and tries to avoid showing you his darker side as much as he can. Who doesn't want you to know all the sins he has done, all the people he had killed before, in fear of loosing you forever.

''Y'know how much I care about you, right kid?'' he asks after taking a long drag from his cigarette, voice almost a whisper as he's sitting on the sofa of your living room while you laid next to him, head resting on the armrest and legs over his lap while his free hand slowly massages one of your bare feet. He stared at you, blinking slowly. The sudden of a question made you open your once closed eyes and perk your head up to look up at him with an innocent, confused stare. ''Well, certainly. I always have.'' you replied softly, giving him a reassuring smile before it vanished as soon as it appeared. You sensed that something was wrong. After all, why else would he ask this? ''Why do you ask?'' you continued, now scanning the expression on his face, despite the fact that he was a very hard man to read. He swallowed, but maintained eye contact. ''Nothin'. Just wanted to let you know how much I love you all over again.'' He knew he shouldn't lie to you- that he should tell you the truth about where all his money comes from, how his family got as powerful as it is, what kind of person he actually is. But it was too dangerous. Luckily for him, he was a good liar, an actor- if you may call it that. He grabbed the foot he was massaging and placed it near his lips before he kissed each one of your fingers in a slow, sensual manner. This made you relax and soon enough, you were resting once again, breathing calmly as you felt safe in his presence.

✶ gangster!rafe, who tries to stop by the flower shop every single day to say hello. No matter how busy he was, how much trouble he had gotten himself into, what kind of business he was doing that day, he never forgot about you. Ever.

✶ gangster!rafe, who likes to take you back to where the both of you had first met every once in a while. The place, in question, is les deus magots.

✶ gangster!rafe, who might be rough between the sheets, but is as gentle as he can be afterwards and makes your comfort his prime priority.

you let out quiet mews as he pounded into you, you legs wrapped around his hips as your plush breasts jiggled up and down in rhythm with his thrusts. Your plump lips remained parted as you felt out of breath, feeling an intense flutter in your tummy that only got stronger as his movements picked up a speed. It felt so good- too good, in fact. You couldn't help but let out some tears that started to run down your cheeks, eyes closed shut as you listened to his grunts. The bed was shaking, making the crackling sound echo through the bedroom.

''There you go, shhh, you're okay.'' he whispers soothingly as he plants a soft kiss on the side of your cheek, both of you laying inside the warm bathtub. There were scented candles on the bathroom countertops, The lights on the pastel green walls turned off in order to enhance the ambiance of the room. Your muscles finally relaxed, and you felt yourself slowly start drifting into sleep while one of Rafe's hands massaged your shoulders. He seems content, blue eyes full of emotion as he looks down at you, hot breath against your neck and tiny droplets of water landing on your back from his wet and messy hair.

✶ gangster!rafe, who lets you spend his money on whatever you want, no matter what. All you have to do is ask, and he'll give you some cash- no questions asked.

✶ gangster!rafe, who loves the way your eyes brighten up whenever you're at the park and you find a pretty flower. Who later takes it from your little hands and places it on your hair.

✶ gangster!rafe, who gifted you a puppy one day as a surprise .

''So, I got you a little something.'' he tells you while he held in front of you a rather large red box with a big white bow around it between his arms. His tone was blunt, his expression the same as always, yet he was lightly tapping his foot against the wooden floor of your home. You were confused, to say the least, But of course- you accepted it, quickly taking it from his hands- perfectly manicured nails gripping it tightly. It was heavy- very heavy. ''Oh! I wonder what it could be!!'' you said almost in a lyrical shriek, excitement in your voice as you sat down on your sofa, legs crossed while you placed it right next to you. Suddenly, it moved, and your widening eyes drifted from the package to Rafe. ''No...no.. gosh, Rafe don't tell me it's what I think it is'' you murmured, placing your hands over your mouth. You were met with silence. Of course he didn't answer. Instead, he just tilted his head, almost as if he was attempting to hide the sly grin that was beginning to form on his lips. Not being able to control your excitement any longer, you carefully opened the box, taking the upper part away and revealing what was inside. You gasped, and your pretty shrieks of happiness filled the room. Rafe Cameron had gifted you a cocker spaniel puppy. A real puppy- not a plushie. ''Oh my goodness.. oh my goodness! oh wow- I have no words!'' you ran up to him and hugged him tightly- maybe a little too much. The puppy trotted towards the both of you and barked happily. ''Glad to be makin' you happy, peach'' he said before gently taking your chin in his hand to make you look up at him before kissing you on the lips.

✶ gangster!rafe, who wouldn't admit it out loud, but sometimes thinks that maybe.. you really are 'the one' for him...

✶ a/n : GUYS GUYS I DID IT!! I know this is a bit short, but tbh.. I might write more about gangster!rafe in the future :) if anyone wants to request something with him you can feel free to do so too. I tried to include a little smut, but eh.. this was my first ever fic (if you could even call this a fic) so it's probably a bit...meh. Either way, I'm glad I finally finished it, and I hope it was enjoyable to read!!

✶ creds : @amariisflossy for the gangster!rafe idea, @dollywons for the second header

@sinisternymphette 2024

1K notes · View notes

sturnlsstuff · 2 months ago

Text

MISSED YOU | chris sturniolo: part 2

pairing: dealer!chris x fem!reader

summary: after finishing deals for today, chris calls you to "check" on you, but he ends up coming over and making a mess on your couch.

warnings: mdni, smut, sub!chris, dom!reader, handjob, pet names, kinda bratty reader + more...

a/n: part one here!! didnt plan to do more than one part but yall seemed to like it so here it is. once again english isn't my first language so sorry for any mistakes

~~~~

chris wasn't planning to end up like this. on your couch, his hard throbbing dick leaking with precum aching for the release you refused to give him. it was such a pretty view for you. his brown hair was sticking out from under the hood of his black fresh love hoodie, his flushed cheeks and pink swollen lips, that he keeps biting to muffle his pathetic whines and moans, that escapes his mouth. all of this because of you. when he called you earlier, all he wanted was to actually check on you, since he was aware how much he wore you out after your last sex in his car two days ago. but you kept being sarcastic, your bratty attitude annoyed him, and he promised he'll come over once he's done with his deals, and then teach you how to keep your pretty little mouth shut. things took a different turn quick.

~~~~

(...)

"i'm tellin' you, ma, i just wanted to check on ya. why you so surprised, huh?" chris asks smirking and watching your cheeks turn a deeper shade of pink, it was visible even through the screen.

"nothing, i'm just...." you sigh, deciding to finally change the topic. chris usually was texting you to ask if you're good if he went too hard on you, but he never calls. until now. "whatever, forget it. how long will you be there?"

"hmmm, i have two more people and then i'm done. what, you miss me?" he grins more when you roll your eyes in response.

"no, idiot, i don't.."

"that's interesting, sweetheart, you said somethin' else the last time we-"

"shut the fuck up." you cut him off, making his smirk widen.

"easy there, don't talk to me like that."

you roll your eyes again. "maybe go back working, what is your lazy ass doing on the phone, huh?"

"my lazy ass? you the one doin' nothin' all day on this couch while others are being productive."

"then come back to being productive, dickhead."

chris grins, narrowing his eyes. he was somewhere outside, you could barely see him because it was dark, but the light from the lantern fell on his face, highlighting his facial features. "careful, ma, don't get all arrogant on me. y'know if you were here right now, i'd shut your pretty mouth real quick."

"well, but i'm not with you there, soooo..."

"a'ight go back to lounging on the couch all day, watchin' those shitty ass movies." he looks up for a second, before looking down on his phone, you could hear some man's voice in the back.

"keep calling me lazy and i won't ever suck you off again." you raised your eyebrow, giving him a fake smile. he licks his lips, answering after a moment.

"oh c'mon, sweetheart, don't be a bitch."

"damn christopher, now you be callin' me a bitch? you're fucked." you shake your head, but a little smile is playing on your lips.

"stop acting all snarky and sarcastic, and maybe i will stop callin' you that."

"cry about it."

"keep it up, smartass, i'll make sure you gonna be the one cryin' when i come over."

you narrows your eyes, seeing his stupid smile on his face. "who said i will let you come over?"

"i'm finishing soon, see you there, ma. i'll be takin' out all that stupid words of yours, outta your pretty little mouth."

~~~~

he was asking himself, how did he end up with you making him whimper. when he stepped inside your house twenty minutes ago, he was so ready to make you regret talking to him like that, until he pulled you onto his lap and you started grinding down on him. he was trying to keep his control, but you just knew how to make him lose it.

all of this started because you told him he stole your outfit. you both were wearing black fresh love hoodies, the hood over your heads. the difference was you had grey sweatpants on and he had the black ones.

"no, YOU stole my outfit. you just copied me." he said to you, shaking his head with a grin.

"yes, 'cause the only thing on my mind is copying you."

"stop bein' childish"

"i am childish?" your eyes widen, looking at him as he's an idiot.

this banter quickly turned into you two making out and you teasing chris. your tongue sliding inside his mouth, your hips slowly moving, making a little bit of a friction. his dick was already hard, aching for your touch, but you weren't gonna give him what he wanted that fast.

"mmmhm, shit..." chris mutters against your lips, bucking up his hips but you quickly pressed them down with your hands, now breaking the kiss.

"oh, are u impatient?" you smile looking down at him. he opens his eyes, scanning your face for a bit, before reaching a hand to push your hood off your head and get a better look on your face. a little smile appears on his lips when he sees your messy hair. you press herself harder onto him, making him hiss.

"fffuck, ma, you gonna drive me insane-"

your hands travels under his hoodie, just running your long nails up and down his chest, before you start toying with the waistband of his sweatpants, continuing moving your hips.

chris watches you as you take your hand out from under his hoodie, and start to toy with the waist band of his sweatpants, he keeps staring up at you and his dick grows harder with every second.

“ughhhh...ffffuck i know exactly what you doin'..."

"yeah? what am i doing chris?" she plays innocent, keeping the eye contact with him and then she grinds against him more, his tip brushing against her pussy, making both of them whimper.

his lip between his teeth as he tries to control himself, but his cock is painfully sensitive, twitching in his pants. he puts his hands on the sides of your hips, pulling you down against him more as he groans a bit. you feel he's careful though, remembering he left bruises on your skin two days ago.

“shittt, you playin’ with me, mama.. stop doin' that"

"you want me to stop, hm?"

"ohh, no, don't stop doin' that, just... stop playin' with me.."

"and why would i?" she stops moving on him, her hand travels down and while looking him in the eyes, she starts stroking him through his sweatpants. chris lets out another quiet whine, throwing his head back on the couch, his dick leaking, begging for some kind of relief.

"cuz i'm hard as hell, it hurts"

she smiles, squeezing him slightly and answering after a moment. "that's cute."

"oh- fuckkkk, you fuckin' little tease-" he groans, closing his eyes for a moment.

you keep moving your hand, watching him trying so hard to hold back his moans, but he isn't able to. chris looks up at you, seeing how you’re so invested and watching him struggle and he feels you keep stroking him through his sweatpants, he’s so hard now from you just touching him like this.

"yeahhhh.. just like that.. oh god, that feels s'good..”

he groans softly again as you continue to stroke him through, he’s starting to leak more but his sweatpants are still in the way.

"ahh careful... you might cum in your pants." she smirks, biting her lip. she was getting more and more turned on just by watching him like this, but it wasn't about her today. today she needed to make him lose it.

he grins at you and he looks down seeing a small wet spot showing through on the sweatpants.

“i mean, you're doin' this to me, don't say that like it was my fault.."

"you can always hold back, y'know"

"oh, it's- fuck..." he cuts himself off when he sees you pulling down his sweatpants finally. "shiit, dont act all smartass again, y'know i cant when you do that to me-" he gulps, finishing his sentence but his whole focus is now directed on you.

your lip is between your teeth as you pull down his boxers, revealing his hard, aching, leaking with precum cock. you couldn't believe that you were the cause of his struggle, and that you could make him that desperate. you wrap your hand around him, rubbing his sensitive tip with your thumb and watching his reaction. he bites his lip, watching you, his tip twitching visibly and he moans again from your touch, he’s getting so much precum leaking out. he's fighting with himself, trying not to buck his hips up and start thrusting into your hand.

“ohhhh fucckkk.... shit please- just a little more... mmm, oh god.... ima cum if you keep doin' this-"

"what did you say?"

"fuck, p-please.."

"couldn't you said that sooner? you wouldn't be struggling so much..." she smiles hearing him begging and then starts slowly moving her hand up and down his length. she's still straddling him, his one hand digging into her thigh, and the other one on the couch to try and brace himself from how good it feels.

"s'good... fuck, so, so good..." he leans his head back, his eyes rolling back for a second as he gulps, but then he looks at you again, loving the sight in front of him, and also you just bring him closer to the edge.

"yeah? wanna cum already? how naughty.."

"oh- my god... mmmhh, please, mama- i'm so-"

your words just sets him off even more, his dick twitching in your hand as you now picks up your pace, making him groan. the way you're so dominant right now turns him on so much, he would never think he'd be liking it so much, but damn, he does.

"i... ughhh, you so good at this- fuck..." his fingers dig into your skin more, leaving new marks on your thighs, he's on the edge now.

"c'mon pretty boy, come for me, yeah?" you speed up your hand more, watching him intensely. your words stealing a louder moan from him, his dick twitches, he bucks up his hips and he releases all over himself. white strings of his cum on his black hoodie, all over your hand, his thighs and even on your couch. you have to bite on your lip to hold back a moan, while he squeezes his eyes for a moment, cursing under his breath. you slow down with your hand, stopping after a moment as he opens his eyes, looking up at you.

you smirk, making eye contact with him and slowly licking his cum from your hand. he groans in response, breathing heavily.

"damn, i might get hard again."

"freak."

"but you into it." he grins and pulls you into another sloppy kiss.

________________________

a/n: do we fw this or nah, lmk 🫦

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo x fem reader #matt sturniolo #dealer chris

760 notes · View notes

understandableparadox · 8 months ago

Text

a comprehensive list of everything wrong with hazbin hotel.

quick note before i lose myself in madness, my standards for helluvaboss are non existent because its a free show on youtube. also i kinda like helluvaboss and i will indulge in any bias i damn well please.

oh and spoilers. i guess.

the greater narrative of the entire season is "White lady civilize inner city hoodlum". ex: The blind side. rich girl, affluent family yadda yadda.

the story is set up to be like amphibia, owl house, svtfoe, steven universe, that being starting as something episodic then transforming into story driven narrative. why? because we know the benefits and drawbacks, episodic starts allows us to wander the world, it allows us to understand the dynamics, we are not forced to reckon with anything because there is no deadline. characters are allowed to bloom and shine and the audience can actually get attached.

the source material is Vary Clearly formed from remnants of something out of a middle school edgelord narrative. the usage of transformation, the big spooky grins, the "and then i smile as my eyes glow and-"-isms which in most cases i don't mind because in some instances but in a vary Particular case its astoundingly annoying and that annoyance is like a mold, shit spreads quick.

the color Red. as a lover of homestuck cherubs and karkat and aradia, as someone who fucking loves the color red, it is so painful to say but holy shit tone it the fuck down, i know its hell but their are so many other colors that you can use, its everywhere, the streets, the air, the windows, the screens, the characters, i know the pride ring is represented with red but change up the palates every so often for backgrounds

the rush, this ties into the second point made but i think the story itself is rushed. we know everything way to early. i know way to much and it makes it hard to care about anything because im still trying to digest the last chunk of info. "oh ok, so they clear out hell once a year. oh hell has a heaven embassy? ok. oh that adam the angel, i though he wou- oh its every 6 months now. wait the exterminators die a lot? then why is everyone sca- people in hell already have weapons that can kill angels? w- oh we are in heaven now, ok ma- no one in heaven except for the elites know the exterminations occur? how do-" and its that, just this incessant rush to explain everything to you. notably that's just the god damn spark notes, we need to know everything about the characters now, every single bit of their story, their insecurities, what charlie needs to fix, how she can fix them, the major bad guys, everything. you are never allowed to dwell on a character because we need to rush towards something else. it almost feels like this should have been like... season three, it would have been a fantastic season three if you dropped the introductions honestly.

the concept of redemption. for a story of redemption to work you need to look at three things. What is there crime, Do they want to change, What is preventing them from changeing? there is only one single character that has a notable path of redemption, angel dust, but if you look through their story it feels off. What Exactly is he guilty of? he has sex, does drugs and drinks. his apparent nymphomania is tied to his sad backstory as someone forced into the sex industry so how is that their fault? then if you think about it you start to spiral and notice "hey why are most of these people in hell?" like sure some of them may deserve punishment but then you see the fucking dichotomy and its like "I was a inventor in england and died of the fucking plague, i may have made evil little contraption hoohoohoo" vs "I was a cannibal, a full on cannibal, i fucking killed people and ate them and then someone shot me". ONE OF THESE THINGS ARE A LITTLE MORE FUCKING EXTREME. i'm going to go fucking nuts, the thing they went to heaven with when presenting a case to angels on the idea that redemption and becoming a better person is actually real was angel dust not drinking at a party and not having sex with consenting adults and i want to go fucking insane. WHAT IS THE CRIME, WHO IS THROWING THE BOOK, WHAT DOES THE BOOK INTEL, ARE WE ON GOOD PLACE RULES?! half the cast dont Need redemption they need fucking help, and the other half of the cast do need redemption but they do not seek it making the point moot. sir pentious acts like he has the brain of a hyper intelligent toddler tossing about toys, its almost like he did his one bad thing of spying and then got caught, sank his little diddy about forgiveness and second chances and become a null point through out the rest of the series, sure their was Some weight to him sacrificing himself, he was a decently funny character and he had good moments but him popping up in heaven felt like a fore gone conclusion, he didn't deserve to be in hell so why do i care that he is suddenly in heaven? because its working on the concept the good place already made. no one actually deserves eternal punishment they just need help processing what makes them a dick, but instead of looking at all the parts of the afterlife that make it bad, inefficient and then creating and trying ideas to see if it work instead over a few seasons, we crash dick first into all the major plot points in regards to that and say "tada, we fixed it.".

having a sub-plot about sexual assault and its victims then having multiple sexual assault related gag ruins your point.

don't make a bunch of stereotypically jewish characters into cannibals, that was a big thing, really shouldn't have to say it.

if you are going to make a character black, make them black, you can say alastor was black but sweet seren-fucking-dippity that's not a black man.

pot meet kettle but yeah the cursing could be a little less liberal. maybe just blue hair or the pronouns, not both.

there is a very distinctive art deco/jazz aesthetic which normally i love but i feel as though it is not used to its full extent and in some cases really hurts the character design in and of itself.

this is a vary obvious bit but the story is a million times more interested in gay men then it is of lesbians, which culminates in this insane thing where the writers clearly have more talent or perhaps it would be more abt to say practice writing male gay pining then they are with lesbian pining. which i personally think is hilarious because i did not know you could min max fujoshi-ism that hard.

this next section is more to do with each character on a fundamental level, for the sake of brevity whatever there is left, i'm just doing ones with speaking roles.

13. Charlie:

(see what i mean about that red thing?)

as originally stated charlie fits rather comfortably into every white saviour narrative, though that seems to be part of her joke. though i'm not entirely sure how much of a joke it can be when its rewarded and expected to advance the plot.

her character design says nothing, it has the motif of old puppets or dolls, she wears something vaguely similar to service suits, her demonic form is just some extra horns.not to say every character needs to have their life on a clothes rack but some more snake and goat imagery would be nice

its not the chol design of charlie with snake hair, not an actual problem but its a problem to me, damn you @cholvoq for ruining my ability to look at any of the characters without wishing i was seeing your designs instead.

character wise aside from the white savoir bit, i'm having a bit of trouble understanding what the arc of the character is. she is shown to be naive, someone who doesn't understand how the world works but everytime she says something its something astoundingly clear like "people can actually get better". and its treated like someone demanded faygo in every water fountain. is the joke that the world around her to cynical or is so to naive? please pick one or the other.

now if you know me, you know i fucking hate overpowered characters with a blinding passion, one that would set alit the god damn abyss but in this one special instance, i feel like its warranted, she's the direct descendant of fucking God, she can swing her weight around a little, i mean god damn. she in so many instances looks like shes cowering so often, why would the daughter of lucifer get backed down by some rando pimp? why wasn't she the one to fight adam? sure you can say she is young but how young? her parents were there since pre-abrahamic times, most of the characters showed up in hell in the 1900s, some of them showed up in the 1600s, how old is charlie??? how long does it take for her to learn how to be strong? The story does not suffer if charlie is strong and knows she is strong. it can easily be a case of "i don't believe in violence to a weird degree". fit it into her apparent naivety about the world to believe that violence is never the answer even when dealing with a being that is unilaterally horrible and abusive and monstrous.

she ga- no im kidding, i do think her romance was waysided a bit, it would have been fine to have more scenes of them togather and in love you know?

14. Vaggie

why did you name the lesbian vaggie...? Don't do that maybe?

I like how her design is almost moth like but again i feel as though you could have amped that up.

she feels as though someone tried to combine undyne and pearl from steven universe, same story beats and design elements. it makes it hard to really distinguish her as a character.

i honestly dont have much to say about her. she is fine.

christ kill me, lets just get the big one out of the way

15. Alastor.

God Damn

where to start.

"alastor is mixed race" mixed with fucking what? concrete? there is not a single black feature on that creature, now im not saying you have to make him a png of louie armstrong but it wouldn't hurt to add a curl to the hair maybe? make it a tiny bit more wavy? Something? a crumb i beg of thee?

his symbolism is all over the god damn place, native american monsters (you know the one), voodoo, radio, puppets, stitches, circuses??? and Tentacles i guess. two of those are from closed religions so if you dumped those you would actually get a more concise character focused on the concept of vox populi as a means of societal control and influence as we see in his first song. but again that gets drowned out repeatedly by all the other random toy box bits shoved into him.

tumblr sexy man bait

he serves no purpose in the story. he does spooky stuff, pretends to do things and then goes back to sitting around looking spooky. i understand that his motif is supposed to be aloof mastermind but maybe have him do more mastermindy things? if you remove most of alastors scenes, bar the songs, it doesn't change all to much. husk and nifity can still be at the hotel, they could be looking for outs in their contracts the same as angel dust. hell it even helps with the one scene where he dose some spooky shit, asking charlie for a favor in exchange for his help in the fight with the angels instead of asking him about angel weapons which should have remained a strictly vaggie scene.

his presence in a way delegitimize the story, as I noted in in the section regarding redemption, the three parts are "what is the crime, do they want to change, what is stopping them?" and alastor kinda just spits in the face of that. he is a serial killer cannibal that has no qualms about how evil he is and apparently must continue being evil due to being under the control under someone legitimately called the Root Of All Evil. show him take a slight interest in the idea that maybe shit for him could be better, make him Want Change at the bare fucking minimum or dont have him at the hotel.

his stupid little fucking horns, big shot the troll liker wants characters to have big fucking horns, make them noticeable or dont have them.

he looks more like a dog boy, which could have been an interesting thing with the collar motif but fuck me i guess.

personal pet peeve but i fucking hate characters that have a million plus powers, stick to a set number, be creative.

im getting more petty as i go on so last point: he could have been in less episodes, he didn't need to be in dad beat dad, that should have been just a lucifer and charlie episode. inverse the red and black and i think he would be fucking great color wise, his body type is the same as ten different characters, he isnt radio enough, aside from the voice and and staff if you told me he was the fucking Cat Demon i would have been just as convinced.

16. Angel Dust

what the fuck, gay spider? its hard to actully articulate all the thoughts i have on angel dust, not in the sense that he is a deeply thought provoking character but in the fact that there is not much meat on the bones.

all around i think angel dust is kinda middling. he has a decent enough romance with husk, he has a decent enough story line that revolves around battling addiction and removing yourself from an abuser (which the story tries to brand as "Redemption???")

I dont like that most of his jokes would qualify as sexual harassment, i don't mind him being sexual as a character but continuing on when clearly someone doesn't like the jokes hurts the character.

not a critique but he is pink, which honestly ill fucking take at point, as long as its not more fucking red.

i think his design is an improvement over some of the old vivzie designs but it feels like it could have done with going a few more rounds of design changes.

same thing with alastor, charlie and vaggie, there is not enough of the animal that they are supposed to be. You could have told me angel dust was a fucking bee or something and i would have had to believe you. nothing about angel dust initially says spider, hell he dosent even have enough limps to be a fucking spider.

17. Carmilla carmine

are... are you supposed to be a rabbit...?

Big Yoai Hands

ballet fighting style, could have been cool, wish she fought more like sanji or chun li.

A single mom that works to hard, who loves her kids and never stops-

her song was decent, not great, decent. it feels as though the actress has experience singing but not in the way they tried to make her sing during her two songs. they have a obvious mexican influence, honestly just let her sing in spanish in the english dub. go listen to the spanish dub, "out for love" sounds great in spanish.

i wish i had more thoughts on them, fucking rip.

18. cherri bomb

that's not a punk aesthetic that's 2010s alt

decent character, they showed up once or twice i guess, no real thoughts.

19. egg boiz

absolutely perfect, i have not notes on them, these are perfect creatures.

20. Emily

im so fucking happy to see a singular blue character

does the naive dreamer bit better then charlie

We really shouldnt have seen her until the end of season two or middle of three.

good contrast with the other angels on screen.

Wait she is supposed to be black??? Where???

21. Husk

keith david you absolute delight, Why on gods green earth did they only give you one singing part?

one of the few charecters where its clear husk is a cat, i do like the kinda... marquee design, he is a magic cat, thats neat. i still think you can toss the wings and eyebrows and still have just as good of a charecter.

has a deeply intresting story of someone who died as a nobody, became the fat cat of hell and then was forced back to the bottom by their own vices, not used at fucking all.

huge potential, little pay off.

22. lillith

I know nothing about her except she ditched her kid and husband to vacation in heaven and i think thats kinda funny.

alot of werid things floating around her, again she shouldnt have been shown in the show at all until next season.

23. lucifer morningstar

no notes, funniest charecter, did a song based on friend like me.

few notes: i do like the idea that the immortal symbol of pride is a constant emotional wreckage constantly seeking approval through grand showmanship and manic energy that threatens to take over anything they touch.

would have liked more snake stuff on him, maybe some more goat things like horns.

that is such a stupid fucking staff lmao.

24. Adam.

alex brightman you absolute fucking delight, you should have had more songs.

I wish his design was more focused on the idea of him being a glam rock wash up

I fucking hate his mask

We shouldn't have met him until the end of the season.

25. Niffty

again she is supposed to be a bug or cockroach but nothing about her points to that.

token straight

keeps rocketing back and fourth between sexulization and infantilization

you had kimiko glenn but didnt give her a single fucking song?

26. Sir Pentious

the secret season one redeemed.

the pilot version of him felt more like someone that could do a season one redemption arc, a megalomaniac constantly attempting territory grabs, there is something you can work with, actual character flaws to work through.

essentially a child after the first episode.

actually a snake which i appreciate.

no where near steampunky enough.

27. the villians of the show dont make much sense, each one feels like they should be season long deals on their own instead of a bunch of team rocket esque idiots that show up on occasion, do a bad thing and then leave.

28. Valentino

gOD THERE IS SO MUCH RED

only a moth some of the time.

sucks as a villain, maybe they need more screen time to show why they suck in a more substantial way aside from being told that he sucks.

it is interesting that angel dust is only under his magical control when in the studio, it shows that angel dust has to make a conscious choice to return, which in turn can be made to show how abusers can draw back their victims. I do not think it was done well in this circumstance as it shows him to be cartoonishly evil, constantly flying back and fourth between sweet and utter psycho, there is no actual reason for angel dust to ever actually go back to the studio, he just does so every so often.

29. Vox

legit who cares? the only thing about him that is in any way substantial is all the dope ass fan art we get.

propaganda machine angle that is not explored at all, just hinted at. no actual barring on the story whatsoever.

why didn't he try to do the same shit as alastor by the way? he knows its bad if alastor gets in good with charlie so shouldn't it be a ass kissing race?

same body shape as literally every other male character.

tumblr sexy man version of pyrocynicals fursona.

30. Valvette

the actual poster child of the shows huge problem of "Show me, don't tell me".

apparently the glue that holds the villains together. never shown.

apparently the one that makes the love potions that valentino is famous for. had to learn about that in the fuckin wiki trivias

we know so much about her from things outside of the show.

was there to call carmilla a coward, that's her plot contribution. she shows up every now and again but its never anything substantial and serves to more around take up run time for people We Don't Need To Know Yet.

im not trying to be mean, animation is animation, we need smaller studios to have success in the industry so that other indie studios can have that success, felling a tree makes it easier for others to follow. showing that its possible to number brain rot exacs helps all animators.

but this show has so much bullshit attached to it, it has so much fucking potential that it fries my brain with unyielding frustration.

this took a bit to write, im tired, thanks for reading.

#hazbin hotel

2K notes · View notes