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#and I love all coffee equally
mygraine · 1 month
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MOTHER GOT ME COLD BREW COFFEE THIS IS SUCH A HUGE W FOR THE MYGRAINEVERSE
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imthursdaysyme · 7 months
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arwen ft arthur giving his wife anything she wants
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stinkrascal · 2 years
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caspian and wolfgang literally own the same fuzzy jacket and they literally have the same middle name (its samuel) you cant tell me theyre not boyfriends
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whimsyprinx · 2 years
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idk what I’m gonna do if/when I move out of the south and hear a gunshot cause like it’s so common here to hear a series of shots and like tune it out because ppl here hunt a lot and just like to fuck around with guns whereas in other places a shot ringing out Is Not A Common Everyday Occurrence
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medkiitt · 4 months
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OMGG OKSIEZ!!!!! >>_<< U R SUPER AWESOME NGL !!!!! ::3
i still feel a bit sick in da stomach from all that candy though... ;;)) at least it tasted good!!
ANYWAAYYYYYYZZ!! DO YOU LIKE ME PLZ LIKE ME ::'D I HOPE U DO...... I REALLY NEED FRIENDS....... --_--
ALSO!! DO U LIKE COFFEE...... I GOT A BUNCHA COFFEE IN MY MINI FRIDGE THATS LIKE UMM. A MILE AWAY???? I CAN GET SUM IF U WANT!!!!!! ^^w^^
-🍭
“ Who puts coffee in a fridg—... Okay. Yes, okay. I'm in the mood for coffee, anyway.. ”
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Loustat short comics - There is nothing else until the storm is over - Interview with the Vampire TV Series
text transcription under the cut ⬇️
Fake magazine illustration
Page 1 Daniel : So, tell me... Did you see Lestat again?
Page 2 Louis : When he's not on Tour, he would occasionally visits.
Page 3 Daniel : So you're what, now? Friends?
Louis : [Hello Lestat.]
Lestat : [Hello Louis.]
It would be too simple. You know us.
Louis : [ That's new. Still enjoying the glitz and glamor?]
But there is this arrangement we are both fine with.
Page 4 When two people hurt each other so deeply, what is left afterwards?
Page 5 Things like that, it seals doors once still unlocked at the time. Can time really heal everything?
[Mets moi dans mon cercueil, Louis, Louis...]
Page 6 [Stay down chéri, I don't want to fight like this. I'll stay. I'll stay, I'll never leave you ever again. I promise. I'll be happy. For you. For her. Please please please please]
Some things were flipped over to show the truth. Others, I learned to see differently. I faced my wrongs.
[I'll be anything please please please please please please. I didn't know it was a gift. I wore it like a curse. I was selfish. I wanted you to suffer. Because I was. Suffering. I came to thank you.]
Page 7 Do we love each other still? Yes. Can we live under the same roof, share the same spaces, the same bed, for an extended period of time, again? No. But this raging, all devouring passion, it is now replaced by something that can never be altered. Is this the price we had to pay to finally be equals?
Page 8 We have never been more understanding of each other. A shadow of something that could have been from the start. Friendly jokes. Bickering I will never admit enjoying. Respect. And then, the always surprising softness. So eerie after all that happened. Yet, we always welcome it.
Page 9 Daniel : [How dramatic. Not ready to live together again, yet he's all over your coffee table.]
Louis: [I didn't buy these.]
Daniel : [Sure. Will you let me know the next time he passes by?]
Louis : [Well I can't. This is his safe place. You will have to find him by yourself I'm afraid.]
Daniel : [Of course. He can't make anything easy. As if he didn't have enough safe places with his ten properties.]
Page 10 Louis: [Nice chat. Bye, Daniel.]
Lestat : [Only when I'm not on Tour, hm?]
Louis [Approximately.]
Lestat : [Thanks.]
Louis : [Did you really just say thank-]
Lestat: *kisses Louis* [...too soon?]
Page 11 Louis : Almost a century is enough waiting.
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dollfat · 9 months
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im still struggling to pay attention to all this world building but once it gets thru i really appreciate it
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infictionalwonderland · 2 months
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The BAU team meeting Hotch’s younger gf who looks like she walked off the front cover of a magazine & she’s so bubbly and has a really comforting energy! How would they react????
The satisfying little clicks of heels against the marble floor wasn’t enough to gain any of their attention usually, but accompanied by the delicately enchanting chimes of true laughter and sweet smell of baked goods—eyes were immediately lifting to investigate to the scene.
“Thank you so much!” An incredibly sweet, honeyed voice gushed genuinely, “here, all of these are meant for my boyfriend but I’m sure he won’t even notice.”
The team traded immensely interested looks as they surveyed the scene, Anderson (who was uncharacteristically blushing a bright flustered cherry red) was being handed a chocolate chip muffin by—wow—a startlingly gorgeous young women who was dressed in inviting soft colours and had a large sweet smile on her face that served to emphasise her lovely appearance.
“My day just got a hundred times better.” Derek grinned, swivelling his chair sideways to speak to the rest of his team while barely taking his eyes off you.
“You’re telling me.” Emily’s mouth hung open a little as she leaned forwards on her elbows to look at you more closely.
“Behave.” JJ scolded before her brief look of reprimand melted under Emily’s pointed stare, “she’s looks so sweet I just wanna eat her.”
“She has a boyfriend.” Spencer reminded them.
“What—?”
“Pretty boy—you and—“
“Oh—oh, no!” Spencer flustered, sputtering out the gulp of his coffee he had in his mouth (JJ handed him a napkin with a mothers readiness). “Not—I would be absolutely honoured—and—and, for lack of a sensical phrase, over the moon, to have a romantic relationship with a woman such as her but—no, unfortunately. She—she said a few moments ago that has a boyfriend.”
“Ah.” Emily blinked, a slow almost sheepish smirk on his lips, “I wasn’t really listening to what she was saying, just watching her lips move.”
“Preach sister.” Derek leaned forward for a fist-bump which Emily easily gave, both of them nodding in solidarity.
“Hello!” They all startled heavily as your gentle, happy voice chimed now much closer to them and mouths dropped subtly at just how beautiful you looked up close.
“Well hello sweetheart.”
“H-hi.”
“Hi gorgeous.”
“Hello!”
You blinked at them, an adorable giggle leaving you at the onslaught of greetings that came all at once. “Hi! You wouldn’t happen to know where Aaron Hotchner’s office is would you?”
“Hotch?” Emily furrowed her brows at you curiously and then seemed to forgot about, well, any of anything she was thinking as your bubbly smile and sparkling eyes turned her way and you gave a cheerful ‘yep!’ “Um—just, up those stairs, the first door at the top.”
“Thank you very much.” You told her, voice as sweet as the packet of fizzy haribos hidden in her desk. “It was lovely meeting you all, we’ll probably be better acquainted later on.”
With a sparkly mischievous twinkle in your bright eyes and another adorable giggle, you took off in a small spin that sent the enchanting mix of your perfume and the baked goods wafting over to all of them and they all watched, entranced, as you climbed the steps to their boss’ office.
After several seconds of dazed silence, Spencer gasped.
“Boyfriend—“
“Yeah I wouldn’t mind being her boyfriend either.” Derek murmured. “At all—really, no sweat off my back.”
“Hotch.”
JJ’s mouth dropped open as she realised where Spencer was going with his train of thought, rolling back in her chair as they pointed at him in realisation.
“Oh my God!”
“Hotch—hotch, is her boyfriend..?” Spencer sounded extremely confused, mouth falling open and closing repeatedly.
“Huh?”
“Reid, you are having a giggle.”
“No, he’s right.” JJ confirmed, mouth open and eyebrows raised. “She said she was here to see her boyfriend and she’s gone to see Hotch. . 2 plus 2 equals. .”
“. . An incredibly brokenhearted Derek Morgan.” Derek’s own mouth dropped open, craning his neck to see what was going on in the office of his boss before realising that Hotch had shut the blinds. Derek gasped, that sneak.
“And a flummoxed Emily Prentiss.”
“But she’s so—“
“Yeah.”
“And he’s like—“
“Literally!”
“Well, the last few months Hotch has been incredibly more relaxed, in fact his percentage of smiles given has gone up from a measly 30% to almost 84%, his laugh quota has reached high yet levels than I’ve ever known it to be. I had also noted that every Thursday he never goes home as late as he usually retires for the day and with this new revelation of a relationship—I assume this correlates to their date nights.”
“It does.”
Everyone turned in their chairs quickly to face their boss who now stood outside his office a faintly amused smile curving up his lips, at his side was you and you were wearing an amused and loving smile, eyes practically sparkling after Spencer’s speech on your boyfriend’s behaviour as they flickered up to said boyfriend beside you who looked down at you with soft, fond eyes.
“So you figured out my secret.” You grinned at them all, taking in Spencer’s red cheeks and Emily’s flabbergasted, dazed stare. “I’m Y/N, Aaron’s girlfriend!”
“Doesn’t that just crush a man’s hopes and dreams.” Derek pouted quietly to himself, straightening up in alarm when his boss’ intense eyes zeroed in on him.
“Honey, this is JJ—“ The blonde gave a warm, welcoming smile and a wave, “Spencer,” said genius gave a tight lipped awkward smile, hands flailing awkwardly and cheeks a burning fiery red, feeling this pulse thump when they smiled back directly at him, “Emily and Derek.” Both of the aforementioned gave waves with half flirty-ish smirks and half genuine smiles.
The door to Rossi’s office opened and when he stepped out and saw you beside Aaron he smiled happily, walking towards you both.
“Ah, Y/N!” He took you into an embrace, kissing both of your cheeks. “You get more beautiful every time I see you, is this big brute treating you right?”
“Always, Dave.”
He patted you on the shoulders, smiling, before turning to Aaron who was rolling his eyes at him fondly.
“Let’s keep it that way.”
“Rossi!” Emily’s astounded voice exclaimed, “you—know Y/N—you knew about this—“
It was Dave’s turn to roll his eyes as he continued walking to descend down the stairs, tutting at her disappointedly.
“You thought I wouldn’t?” He countered, “who do you think encouraged him to go for it?”
You laughed at that and your boyfriend smiled down at you fondly, looping an arm around your waist—seemingly forgetting he was in his place of work and needed to keep up the facade of stone cold, emotionless boss.
“What—Rossi—get back here—“ Derek leaped up from his seat and trailed after the older man.
“What, you gonna come watch me take a leak?”
“If it means we get some answers!”
“Shoo parassita.”
All you could do was laugh again, smiling up at your boyfriend as his arm tightened around your waist and he pulled you closer into his side. You were very happy with your decision to come and deliver baked goods to him.
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hoshigray · 6 months
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Hey 🫶🏻 Can I request having sex with Sukuna when he is extremely jealous? Like reader is kinda popular and other guys always tryna flirt with her and shit (she is not interested ofc) So when Sukuna saw another man shooting his shot he needs to blow off steam by fucking you dumb 🤕 and he saying shit like “what a good little cocksucker, maybe I should record you and send this video to all those bastards, so they would know who’s dick you’re gagging on” 😭 I’m so sorry if this is too specific, feel free to ignore 😭
Love your works 🥰
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𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: ofc ofccc !! and ty for loving my stuff~
⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Sukuna x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern setting; you and Sukuna are college seniors - rough sex - fingering (f! receiving) - impact play (spanking + pussy slaps) - oral (m! receiving) - dumbification - choking - backshots + legs-up positions - degradation (cocksucker, dumb bitch, slut, whore) - overstimulation - clitoral play (pinching and swiping) - pet names (dove, little girl, princess, woman) - possessive behavior (it's sukuna, duh) - use of a phone; sexual photography and videography - heavy depictions of a blowjob - mention of tears and spit.
⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.5k
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“—Khaahh, oohhh!! Sukuna, pleasee, it hurts—Ahhhnn...!”
“Who said you’re in any position to tell me how to handle you, woman?… Fucking shit, you’re tight as hell…”
Everyone knows that you are off-limits. Knowledge of this fact is the bare minimum when dealing with the one known as “Sukuna’s girl” — no one should dare lay a finger or bat an eye on his woman. And yet, somehow, Sukuna continues to find strays that think this rule doesn’t apply to all. 
He saw it not too long ago today when a guy came your direction at the hall, concealing himself in the shadows to eavesdrop. The junior was dumb enough to invite you to some get-together, foolish enough to think he should even be speaking to the partner of the cold and intimidating Ryōmen Sukuna. 
You were the most popular girl in the class year — expected as Sukuna wouldn’t deal with someone who wasn’t [barely] on equal footing as him. However, unlike him, you carried a much kinder cadence. You greet others with sweet words, converse with professors in a mutual light, and engage with everyone with a compassionate and tranquil soul. — the complete opposite compared to your boyfriend. So, of course, it would be hard for you to turn away people when they come to you for guidance or opinions. 
In this case, you had expressed to the junior that you weren’t interested and had plans to study at your boyfriend’s apartment later. It wasn’t a complete lie, yet a respectful diversion that was expected of you and pleased Sukuna observing.
However, the dull-witted brat put his hand on your shoulder and continued to press on, emphasizing that you’d miss out on people wanting to have a good time with you. A ballsy thing to remark as if saying your boyfriend holds no priority over some boring party. Besides, the man had to stop the itch of coming out of the shadows to strangle the kid for laying his hands on you.
Nonetheless, you gracefully pushed his hand aside and apologized again for declining his offer before heading on your way. The situation was disentangled, both parties carrying on with their days. But that wasn’t enough to calm the salmon-haired man. 
Especially when you were in his apartment, protected under his gaze the entire time; you were sitting across from him at the coffee table while sorting through your coursework, unaware of the fixed look of his red eyes on your frame. Because all he could do was look at you, replaying the interaction from earlier today. 
It all angered him deeply — how the junior said your name so casually, the laughs you shared with him, and the touch on your shoulder. Everything from that moment added fuel to the fire scorching in his gut. He couldn’t relax, knowing there were still imbeciles who had the gall to act so familiar with you, his princess. 
The twitch of his brow couldn’t cease, same with the bounce of his knee – his nerves having an inner battle of maintaining a low profile. And being the caring piece in this relationship, you noticed. You blinked up to where he sat, “Is everything okay?” 
Of course not, woman. As much as he wants to put all the blame on the guy, Sukuna felt that you also played a part in this charade. To him, you were just as worse as that fucker. How could you, his precious dove, allow such trash to be so close to you? Allowing that thing to touch you was such an insult to him, downright disrespectful to the man you call your boyfriend. And the fact that you didn’t think of telling him — believing that you could keep this as a small matter insignificant to his awareness — left a sour taste in his mouth.
In his philosophy, Sukuna knew you were in the wrong as well. And for that, you would also have to be dealt with by him, to be reminded of your place in all this.
“Ohoooo! Ooof!! ‘kunaaaa, your fingersss…! Too fast, please slow—Daaahhh!!”
He’d smack your wet cunt, forcing you to grip his satin sheets. You’d instantly try to close your legs, but Sukuna wasn’t having any of that, quick to pinch the skin of your inner thigh to correct you. 
“Dumb bitch,” he throws insults, void of caring that you were on the brink of tears. He brings a hand to your throat, resulting in you gagging from your circulation being cut off. “I told you to keep those legs open. First, you let some fucker touch you, and now you can’t obey me when necessary? Do you enjoy disrespecting me like this?”
“Ahck! I–hic–I’m sorryyy,” he could feel you clench on his fingers, gripping them as if you refused to let them go.
It humored Sukuna, who effortlessly removed his digits to give your slit another harsh slap that made you gasp for air. An action proved difficult with his whole right hand constricting your airways. “Are you? How can you be sorry when you’re latching onto my fingers like a slut?” His hold on your neck goes tighter; your hands claw at his forearm, a desperate plea that doesn’t sway him. “Say it like you mean it, Y/n.”
“Khh..Ahh—Please, forgive me, Sukuna…!” Your apology came through wheezes, tears now welling up to fall on your pretty face, yet you knew it wasn’t enough. “I should have…Never let that junior tou—Mmmph! …Touch me… I’m your princess, only yours.”
A pink brow is lifted, but his expression remains unchanged. With one last slap to your leaking chasm, Sukuna lets go of your throat for you to cough and gasp as much air as you can. While you do that, he removes his turtleneck and unbuttons his dark jeans, bringing his briefs down to spring his erection out before lying back onto the pillows against the bed headboard. “Prove it then,” his voice has you turn to listen. “Suck me off the way I like it.” 
You are in no position to resent him, crawling towards him on all fours and immediately going to work. Your tongue greets his reddish-pink glans with swirls, licking his frenulum and nibbling on the skin before taking the head to your mouth. You lather his cock with your spit as you bob your head, hallowing your cheeks to take in every inch while your hand glides up and down his shaft. 
“Nnmph, fuck,” Sukuna groans at the feeling of your feverish sucks of his cockhead, your hand stroking him while you tend to him with your mouth feels too good. He peers down to watch you suck hard on his tip, and you return his gaze with a hooded look while sucking on his balls, causing him to hum. You then bring the tip back into your lips, making raunchy noises as you take his girth and lick his precum. 
“Heh, what a nasty little girl,” he comments after you exude a trail of spit onto his dick before hurriedly slurping him back inside your warm mouth. “I outta take a picture of you…No, a video is better.” He’s pleased to see your watery eyes twinkle with dread when he pulls out his phone from his jean pocket. He slides to open the camera application, “Maybe I should show that fool how such a good cocksucker you are for me.”
“S–Sukuna, please, anything but—Mmmm!” Again, no one said you were in a position to speak out of turn. Hence why, your boyfriend grabs your cheeks roughly with a single hand. Crimson eyes pierce through your fragile skin, and your figure fills with fright within milliseconds. 
“What did I say about giving me orders?” His tone is enough to send shivers down your spine, his nails denting your cheeks. “Does my woman want me to expose them for the filthy whore they are? Cause I couldn’t care less if I one day start leaking these shits and have your reputation crumble in seconds as a lesson.”
A tiny bit of you wants to believe he wasn’t serious; however, the single tear shed from your unblinking eyes tells a different conscience. You reply with a shaky breath and a quivering lip. “No, Sukuna...Please forgive me.”
He releases your chin with a push of the thumb. “Then get back to it, dove.” The sweetness of that pet name wasn’t present as he smacked your cheek with his length. You listen to him, taking him back into your throat with a euphoric mewl while cupping and kneading his balls. He sneers and presses the record button, “Just like that, princess.”
And don’t think that it ends there — because it doesn’t. 
“Ahhhnn! Oooooh, my God, ‘Kuna..’kunaaaa, I can’t—Ahahnn!”
“���Nngh, that’s right, Y/n; scream for me…Fuck, this tight ass pussy…”
Sukuna now has your face down ass up, pinning you to the satin mattress by the shoulders and hammering his bare cock right into your messy cunt. Your cries are muffled by the sheets you bite into, tears streaming down hot cheeks as your boyfriend plows himself deep side your core. The commotion coming between your sexes fills his bedroom outside of the squeals that bounce against the walls.
Your figure jolts with every thrust, Sukuna’s pelvis smacking on your ass that stings with hot skin after taking onslaughts of slaps from his hands. Your clitoris, exhausted from the constant tweaks and pinches, rests with the cool air treating the sore button. Sweat is covered all over your nude body, evidence that you and your boyfriend have been going about this for a long while, and of course, you’re getting a bit fatigued and overly sensitive to his every touch. But you know he doesn’t care; this is all for your punishment.
Sukuna throws your butt another smack, having your vaginal walls instinctively contract around his girth. He hisses with a grin, “Damn, I love seein’ you like this.” His eyes trail down from your sweaty shoulders, following your spine and hips, down to your ass, where he sees the insertion of his dick being swallowed by you. Seeing the white, soapy ring shielded around his cock makes him bite his lip. “All sore and dirty for me…Mmmph, gripping on me like a slut, going dumb on my cock.”
His hips then propel erratically, having your howl with eyes shooting up. You were too far gone to think of proper thought, with your brain churned into mush and your head pounding nonstop. The heat on your face is just as unbearable as the throbbing sensation down south. Your trembling legs try so hard not to give in and slump, yet you can’t lie; you’re tired, sore, and sticky all over. 
“Nmaahh! OhhhJesussss, ‘kuna, pleaseeee, lemme cummm—Mmaahh!” Another smash to your ass, followed by a pinch to your clitoris to juxtapose with the slow strokes he uses to massage the delicate spots of your walls.
“Why do you think I should let you cum, woman?” He swipes on your clit, listening intently to the whines that climb higher with the brush of his finger. 
Your words come out in slurs, yet you must answer to him. “I’m shorryy, I didn’t mean to—oh, fuck…do you wrong. Yer the only man who can touch me, wound me,” You peer over your shoulder to see Sukuna, an action that has him release your clit and hear what you have to say. “And love me…just as I love you, and only you. No one else can have me like you…Hahhh, I’m yours, both in mind and body…” Salmon brows furrow as you continue. “I love only you and want only you to touch me, ‘Kuna..Please forgive me, I won’t do it again…”
He was already sold once you turned to look at him, you little minx. Your watery eyes suddenly struck his heart — you are the only thing in the world that could do that, his little dove. He can tell by your heaves and pants that you wish to rest, that you had enough of his lesson and want to be in his embrace. 
However, no unpleasant deed shouldn’t go unpunished. Within a second, Sukuna has you flipped on your back with your legs brought up to his left shoulder. He brings out his phone once again, swiping to put on the camera after inserting his length back inside you.  “Hey, princess,” he calls to you. “Why don’t you say hello to the camera for me? Want something to look back to.”
You gulp with a dry throat, sheepishly smiling at the camera phone. “Hello, I’m Y/n—Ooohh!!” He surprises you with more ruts to your chasm, clamping onto him as if your life depended on it. 
“Who do you belong to, Y/n?” He calls out to you with a steady breath, as if his pelvis wasn’t poisoning deep to grind your insides to evoke pretty moans to escape puffy lips. 
“Hahaaa!! I—Hnnph..I belong to Sukuna Ryō–hic…men…”
“Who does this pussy belong to, Y/n?” Ruts become harsher with every word.
“—Mmoohhh, fuuuhuck, it’s yours, only yoursss,” you voluntarily take up your legs and hold them from behind your knees, bringing them to your chest. “Me and this pussy belong to only Sukuna, no one else can touch me…!”
Sukuna pans the phone down to the union of his dick, moving to and fro from your slit. The white essence painting both sexes was making an erotic mess, strings of his come covering his girth with every push and pull. He chuckles to himself. “This right here is all mine, ya hear?” He looks at you to see you nod your head hurriedly. “Don’t you ever forget that, understand?” You nod again, clenching around him when he drops the phone and leans towards you to place his hands on yours.
It’s here that he finally finishes with you, pounding his hips into you as hard as he can. Your voice gets higher and higher, your headache getting intense with the ruts on your cunt. And with how he stretches and grazes your walls? Jesus, it was terrible to control yourself, your orgasm increasing by the second. “I wanna cumm, ‘kunaaa, let me cum on you, pleaseee….!!”
“Heh, desperate to tighten some more for me, huh.” He adds more weight onto you, forcing you to submit to him. You shudder under his bow, “You may now cum, dove.” 
As if on command, you let yourself loose and allow the climax to finally be free, wailing during yet another crescendo as your vagina flutters around him for the fourth time that night. And Sukuna relishes the feeling of you tightening on him, doing excruciating slow strokes to enjoy the moment. 
“Hmmm, that’s it, just like that…Remember this, princess,” He bends down to lick the tears on your cheeks before kissing them. “Know your place.” He then brings the phone back up to close this session.
“Now smile for me.”
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requests/thirsts are open hehe~ 🧸
© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs and comments are wholeheartedly appreciated ☆ header edit done by me, dividers by @/benkeibear.
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onlyhaos · 2 months
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🧴 · yapper!reader x husband!Vernon , fluff
Your husband loves hearing you talk about literally anything, especially when it’s evening’s self care time
“Baby, hold still, I can’t apply the mask if you move”
You said, as you put on the face cream with a small spatula, your fingertips resting under your boyfriend’s chin.
“Sorry” Vernon mumbled tight-lipped, holding back a smile.
“Do you want to tell me about your day? You forgot to do so today” He spoke in a whisper, trying to not move his mouth as much as possible.
You smiled at his attempt to stay still, still straddling his lap as you scooped up more cream.
“Today was pretty boring, just like usual. Though my co-worker made me work overtime, as you might’ve noticed, since she forgot to do an important thing in the project that we’re working on right now. But it was okay since you were also occupied with work and weren’t alone at home. Oh- and also..”
And there you went, talking about everything that came to your mind right now.
Whether it was about that show you wanted to watch, the pretty purse you saw on your way home or the food you’d crave for tomorrow evening. Vernon always listened to what you had to say.
He never minded the way you talked about your interest or whatever you wanted to say.
And he’s thankful for you being so talkative, otherwise he would’ve never met you and would never be married to you like in this lifetime.
While he worked as a barista, he’d never seen you in the shop before. What he didn’t know, though, was that you had always peeked through the glass of the cafe when you’d walk by.
Until your friend finally dared you to go inside and talk to him you would’ve never thought you’d step foot into this comfortable and small-spaced cafe.
“And what’s the order?” The kind boy asked, and oh was his voice pretty.
A small gulp and you got over it “A normal latte, please” You answered, taking in the way his pretty eyes looked into yours.
Nodding, he placed the order. “Alright, what is your name? Today’s pretty packed, so I can easily call you over” Liar. Yes the cafe was filled with more customers than usual, but it wasn’t that packed that he had to take names.
“Y/n,” you answered with a warm smile, staying quiet. But as he wrote down your name, you couldn’t stop the words that flowed over your tongue.
“Would you also like my number?” Your eyes widening at your own sentence. You really dared to do it now.
Looking at the boys’ face, you couldn’t tell what his thoughts were. Scared that he might decline, you tried to calm yourself by saying all he can say is no.
But that doubt was quickly replaced by his gentle smile. “Sure, but maybe after I placed the other customers orders, is that okay?” He asked politely.
You quickly paid for your latte, watching as the other customers placed their order one by one. Thank god it was Saturday, otherwise you wouldn’t be able to wait those unbearable 10 minutes.
“Alright, I think I’ll allow myself a small break by letting you give me your number, since I made you wait now” The brown eyed man spoke, introducing himself as Vernon.
Getting ready to leave the cafe, his voice suddenly called out to you. “Y/n, your latte” He chuckled. Wow, his chuckle was even prettier than his warm smile.. no both of those were equally pretty.
Before getting lost in your thoughts, you immediately smiled back, letting out a small awkward smile.
“Right, sorry” Grabbing your coffee you made, or tried to, make your way out of the cafe, but now holding your latte that the cute guy made you in your hand you began talking to him.
Not that he minded, and his co-worker Seungkwan also didn’t. Well, he bickered a bit since he had to take over, but it wasn’t as bad since he knew his friend might finally get a damn love-life.
“Love, you’re telling the story like I wasn’t the guy you asked for his number” Vernon, or different, your husband said as he was now putting the cream mask onto your face.
“It’s such a cute story though, I can’t wait to tell our kids one day.” You said, slightly tired but still giggling.
Both of you, with your face masks on, continued talking in the embrace of your warm bedsheets.
It finally got more quiet as tiredness started seeping into every cell of your body, moving your exhausted body to the bathroom and finally peeling off the face masks it was time to put out the lights of your nightstands.
With a small sigh leaving your mouth, followed by Vernon’s small sigh, your eyes fell shut.
“I’ll always appreciate and be thankful for your love for me, my favorite” You whispered, sure that Vernon was already is dreamland.
So when you finally drifted off to sleep, you didn’t register the quiet response from your husband.
“It’s the least I’ll ever be able to do for you, my pretty” the familiar warm smile following as he, too, drifted off to sleep.
— ౨ৎ
I actually didn’t think it’d end up this long and definitely didn’t plan to tell how they met but I’m pretty proud of this one. Also it’s not proofread, it’s 11:20 pm and I’m deadly tired now😭😭 Much love, and I’m hoping you’ll enjoy this fic and much as I enjoyed writing it for you💓💓
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prettyboykatsuki · 3 months
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lightning strike | h. iwaizumi
✮ tags ; afab + gn!reader, recently established relationship, mutual pining, pwp, dry humping + making out, nipple play, implied raw sex, super love-dovey, deliberate name change from iwaizumi to hajime 18+
✮ wc ; 4k (???????)
✮ a/n ; something deeply frightening happened to me in writing this but whatever. made it with ten minutes to spare happy bday mr iwaizumi
pls be nice if characterization is everywhere its been a while
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He’s nervous.  
So nervous. 
You laugh at him over a can of beer, even harder when he visibly flinches at the sound. The room is too quiet since all of your company has left for the evening. Iwaizumi is tipsy but not drunk - though you think if he has another can he’ll get there just fine.  
“Your face is gonna get stuck if you keep frowning.”  
He shoots you a glare that makes your lips quirk up. “Shut up. You sound like my Ma.”  
“How is she by the way? Still good?”  
Iwaizumi snorts and takes a long sip of his beer. He tilts his head back against the couch, arm stretched along the seats. His muscles pull taut underneath the skintight material of his turtleneck. You find yourself sitting on your hands to calm down, but you’re too unfocused for it too work.  
“She’s good. She likes the countryside. Been growing squash and tomatoes and everything. Gonna try and stay with her a bit during off-season,” His voice is wistful and affectionate. An only son, filial and polite - you smile at him lovingly. “You should come visit with me.”  
You raise an eyebrow. “Oh? Guess it’s the same since we’ve already met but since we’re going steady I though you might be too nervous.”  
The realization settles in too late. Just when you thought he’d swallow the nerves down, they make an appearance once again. He sits up straight, clearing his throat, diverting his gaze to the coffee table separating you both. A blush spreads up, all through his body. His ears turn especially turn some shade of cherry red. Dusts all along his nose. He tsks at you, tongue clicking with a familiar petulance. You bite back a laugh.  
“Going steady? Seriously?”  
“Well,” Your face twists in mischief as you look up at him, your eyes locking briefly. “You’d get all hissy if I called us lovers.”  
His eyes go wide - in equal parts shock and mild disgust. You can’t hold the laugh back that time time no matter how hard you try. It bubbles up out of you, euphoric and hysterical. Your laughter is too loud to savor his displeasure, so caught up in it that it takes you a few minutes to calm down again,  
“I hate you,” Iwaizumi mumbles. A grin splits your face. 
“No, you don’t.”  
He frowns and his blush darkens just a touch  
The room goes quiet save for the sound of your heartbeat. You try and collect yourself. The house feels too quiet, all prior company absen. Not that Mattsun and Maki dragged out Oikawa to be considerate of your newfound love or anything. You’re sure you’ve already gotten a long text detailing your extortion related to the favor. Still, you’re glad to be alone with him.  
It’s easy to split your time between all of them separately when you’re all in the same place - but complicated to be all together. And alone time with Iwaizumi has always been hard to come by.  
You’ve been pining for him since highschool - the frequency you wish to see him tuned tuned by the passing years of your relationship and feelings. You’ve gone through the whole spectrum of desires. From wanting to see him everyday constantly, to hoping you’d never have to see him again. It took you well over a decade to make any progress, and the entire process (while surely heartfelt) has been unmistakably clumsy and so, so long.  
Spending alone time with Iwaizumi has thus always been complicated except for this one time. You got together, officially, just last week. The day he came home, where you incidentally found yourselves alone together. Something that’d been rare years prior due to said pining and trying to get over him. You don’t even really know how it happened. It felt like the most significant moment in your life thus far and incomparably anticlimatic at once. He was just sending you home since you’d got completely shitfaced, and before you left you grabbed him by the collar and announced it. Just like that.  
(You threw up half-way through the car ride back. Your Uber was nice enough to pull over so you didn’t do it in his car.) 
You went home after and didn’t speak for days. It took a few more days for either of you to work up the courage to sort things out forreal, but you made it work with the help of even more alcohol.  
Things get busy though, when Oikawa returns home and Hajime is off-season. It’s rare things line up, and when they do - it’s only natural you spend all your time together. You did today too, celebrating Iwaizumi’s birthday among the four of you with take-out and Godzilla movies on your nice flatscreen.  
But you haven’t been alone with each other since your chat establishing your relationship as not a pipe-dream, which was notably through text.  
He’s nervous, so incredibly nervous but so are you. Just a little.  
You look up after being lost in thought - to see Iwaizumi stare at you. The air shifts slow and steady, thick tension stirring in your gut. You bite the inside of your cheek, rubbing your feet together as you fold over yourself, chin resting on your knee. 
You wonder if you should be the one to break the distance. Iwaizumi beats you to the punch this time. You suppose you’re even.  
“Come ‘ere.”  
He pushes the coffee table farther away from him with ease, careful not to knock anything over. Your tipsy self swoons over his competence, but you’re sure you’d do the same sober.  
The look he gives you as you crawl over to him makes you feel bashful. You go over until you’re sitting side by side - stretching your legs out. Your thighs barely touches. Iwaizumi jolts, swiping a hand over his face in exasperation.  
“Sorry,”  
You shake your head. “It’s okay.” Because it is, then just to make sure. “Are we okay?”  
“More than okay,” He admits, a breath of relief following the words. “It was a good birthday, by the way. Thank you.”  
“They’ll get upset that you only thanked me,”  
He bristles immediately making you giggle. “I’ll thank those knuckleheads later.” 
You smile at him, wide and bright. He looks at you before quickly looking away, laughing a little humorlessly to himself. You wonder what he’s thinking about but decide against asking, comfortable letting him go at whatever speed.  
“Can I uh—“ He clears his throat. “Wanna kiss you. Just uhh… shit.”  
You’d love to tease him, but you feel like your heart might explode out of your body so there’s not really much room. Nodding, you sit up on your knees and turn a little to face him. His features soften with remarkable fondness. You flush at the sudden attention. He sits up straighter, turning his head to face you. His forehead knocks against yours softly, noses brushes. His eyes are so sharp. You have to close your own when you feel him leaning in to kiss you.  
Iwaizumi is warm. His lips are softer than you thought they’d be. His hands feel big as one snakes up to cup your neck. He gives you one deep kiss, followed by two pecks before pulling away to make you chase him. He rewards you by kissing you agai. The sudden pressure makes your head spin.  
You pull away dazed. “You’re… super good at kissing.”  
“Yeah?”  
You press your thighs together at his reply. So sexy it’s unfair. “Uh-huh.”  
He gives you a weighted hum. 
His reaction spurs you on then. You pull away from him momentarily. Iwaizumi stares at you in reply, worry making his brow furrow. Before he can get the words out, you seat yourself on his lap. He’s taken aback as he realizes your intent, your arms around his neck. It’s not even really the alcohol, as much as it’s everything else. Cramped in your living room together, pressed up against your couch. You bury your face in the crook of his neck, and shiver in his arms smelling his cologne. Spicy with a hint of pine. He hesitates, hands settling so carefully on your hips.  
He lets you stay like that undisturbed until you’re ready to pull away. Like he senses you needed that. He’s always been so good at knowing what exactly you need. Suddenly restless you decide you need to look at him again - make sure he’s real. That this is real.  
“Hey,” He mutters. His pitch is low, sends your heart hammering.  
You giggle, fluttering nervously. “Hi,” And then, “You like me,”  
“Pfft,” His voice is so tender, so soft, so comforting. “More than that.”  
Suddenly overwhelmed by your own giddiness, you squeak. You want to bury yourself in his shoulder again, but he’s quick to hold your wrist and stop you. He pins you under his gaze. It’s so intense you can’t help but feel like a deer caught in headlights. Your head is empty and all he’s doing is looking at you.  
But maybe that’s the whole problem. He’s looking at you, and you’ve wanted that for more than a decade. Now having it is too much, too suddenly - and you’re almost afraid of having it. It’s just a gaze, but it’s yours. He’s telling he’s yours in a way that’s just like him.  
“You…” He starts on something before letting you go. “For a long time,”  
He doesn’t need to explain. You already know.  
“Me too,” 
He calms down when you get it..  
“Really?” He follows up. He doesn’t look at you as he goes on. “How long?”  
You think on it.  
“Since we were fifteen?”  
“Same as me, then.” He’s clumsy with the follow-up. “That’s…”  
“Dumb? Ridiculous? Too long?” You say, filling in the words for him. “I know.”  
The extent of your own longing comes to you in waves. Love, like the sea trapped behind ice - so easily shattered. You’re drowning, your lungs aching trying to get adjusted to what is finally yours. The shock of it comes and goes, but you’re surrounded by it all the same. Iwaizumi stares at you and you stare back and nothing in the world exists except this desire you’ve kept to yourself for years.  
His name comes out like a whimper on your lips. “Iwaizumi,”  
“Hajime,” He corrects, so tender. So sweet to you. “Please,”  
“Hajime,” You test the name out on your tongue. It’s sweet.  
He doesn’t say anything after that.  
Your breath hitches as Hajime crowds into your space again. His hands are firm on your hips as he kisses you again. It’s different from before, lingers longer - his tongue pressing along the seam of your lips until you open them and allow him in deeper.The taste of alcohol is clearer on your tongue, bitter remnants of malt making you drool at the corners of your mouth. You kiss hungrily, your hands carding through the short, black hair with a longing sigh. Hajime groans a little when you tug at the root and the only thing you can think to do is try to sink into him further. .  
The hear raises without warning. Your skin under your clothes feels like it’s on fire. It feels different too suddenly for you to adjust and keep completely calm. Lust that borders cosmic engraves into your bones. Crumbling under the weight of it, you kiss Hajime like your life would end without it. In the moment, it feels like it would. Exchanged breaths are the only source of air for that space and time. You feel frantic, hazy - and Hajime who you know to be so steady, proves to be in the same place as you. 
His hands are so big. You can feel how tight he grabs you, his thumb pressing into your hipbones - itching to go lower. You don’t want to pull away but you want more. In the second you take a breath you tell him as much. Your own delirium might bring you shame if you were in any place to really feel it. “You can touch me. However you want.”  
“Fuck. Don’t say that.”  
“Hajime, please.”  
You mutter something but you don’t catch what it really. Your head is swimming with unrepentant ardor and your tongue feels too heavy for your mouth. Hajime kisses you again and takes the lead. The pleasure echoes in how you sigh, your hips rutting against his lap as his hands squeeze your ass. His hands are so fucking big - strong and kind and hold you with no uncertainty. The groping goes straight to your cunt, stomach starting to twist with familiar arousal. You push your hips against him again.  
You’re hardly thinking about it. Hardly thinking at all - no coherency or sense thrumming through your brain except his name. Hajime, Hajime, Hajime. An incantation of destiny. A love song.  
You feel his fingers inch up to go underneath your shirt - all of a sudden feeling burdened by all the layers between you. You can’t calm down. 
He pulls away from you first in that instance. Before you can ask, he nudges himself close to your neck, kissing along your jaw. You feel the fabric of your shirt tug. “Can I take this off?”  
You nod rapidly, then mimic him wanting him to do the same. His laugh is raspy in the follow through - your shirt and bra discarded somewhere on the floor. He stops suddenly, flicking his gaze up to you like he’s asking permission again. You just nod, not knowing how else to convey your desires.  
Your nipples pebble in response to the arousal and cool air. Hajime’s tongue flicks from his lips.  
His gaze makes you feel ticklish. He runs his palms over your tits with an appreciative noise. His eyes linger long enough to make your skin go hot all over, your spine prickling with heat.  
“Staring,”  
He looks up at your face, amused by your pout then kisses you as he feels you up, calloused palms brushing against your nipples, tits fitting perfectly in his hands. He smiles a little against your mouth. “Guess I am.”  
“Take yours off,” You plea. 
He obliges you, peeling the tight shirt away from his body and leaving his bare torso in full view. The proximity makes your lungs tighten like they can’t get enough air - heat radiating from his skin. His physique is toned, layers of muscle soft and comfortable He’s structured and gorgeous like a statue. You’re greeted by his broad chest and the corded muscles of his biceps. All sinew and strength, down his core. Strong and stable and big everywhere you could possibly look. You feel awestruck, mouth-watering at the sight - clit throbbing. Objectively attractive, you’re sure anyone in your place would feel the same. But this is your Hajime and the body he’s worked so hard on, full grown and yours. The trail of hairs down his stomach, getting coarse. The v-line of his waist makes you clench. 
 Too much.  
 The words tumble out of you before you can stop them, like water spilling from a broken dam. “I want you to fuck me so bad,”  
His brows raise. You can feel something twitch hard against your clothed pussy. At full mast underneath the confines of his pants. \Your eyes go wet when you realize what it is. Mind sticky, you draw your lips into a pout and silent protest. Despite your desperation, you almost want to say it again, pleasure thrumming through your body at his reaction. It feels like electricity sparking up from the base of your spine all the way to the top of your head. 
 Hajime presses his face to your neck all over again - hot, open mouth kisses trailing from jaw to chest. You gasp when his mouth closes around your tits, tongue laving over the tender skin and making your back arch.  
“Wanna fuck you so bad,” He mirrors. His voice is scratchy and his grip is tight. “Been wanting to fuck you so bad for so long, you have no idea.”  
There’s something true and well pathetic about the yearning that wells up inside of your gut and settles itself in your sternum. It spreads and grows and tangles in your ribs, curls around the vessels of your heartbeat. The kind of yearning that makes your whole being tremble, makes you want to preen and sing like a canary. It’d be good if time stood still so he could fuck you infintely - never being able to go where you can’t reach.  
You rock against him and Hajime holds you steady like always. His voice drops down to murmur - speaking with alarming clarity. You’re teary from the sound of his voice.  
“Let’s cum together,” He offers as reprieve, so sweet despite the harsh grip on your hips as he draws your weight down closer to him. You’re suddenly conscious of your choice in clothes - how thin the fabric of your shorts really as as the rough outline of his cock presses against the seam. You’re glad you didn’t wear underwear “And then I’ll make you cum again. I’ll take care of you,”  
“You always take care of me,” You say with no awareness of your surroundings. He laughs breathlessly. ‘ 
“Yeah..since it’s you, it’s easy.”  
You go wide-eyed but don’t get a minute to dissect. Not bothering to unbutton his jeans, you gape at the hard outline of his cock confined in black boxers. his  He picks you up with ease, your legs wrapping around his waist as your spine touches the carpet of your living room floor. You make a surprised noise as you’re let down gently. He doesn’t unfurl you from him. You spark back to life as his lips meet yours again chastely. The complaint you had dies on your lips when he trails down your jaw again. His voice is next to your ear, sinfully rough - warm breath tickling your skin. His teeth tug on your ear lobe and you shiver.  
“Tell me if it’s too much,”  
You don’t get a chance to ask about it.  
The sudden motion of his hard cock rutting and humping against your sticky, wet cunt punches the air of out of your lungs.  
There’s only a single layer of wet fabric keeping him from fucking you.  The very idea makes your pussy throb unhelpfully. You understand all of a sudden that this was what he meant about wanting to make you cum. But it’s Hajime, your Hajime - so making you do any work wouldn’t cut it. Humping you in missionary of all things like he’s already inside you.  
The thought overwhelms and you gasp.  
You don’t recognize the sound of your own voice, so high and pitchy with need. Pure pornography. But there’s no camera for you perform for, nothing but Hajime above with with a heavy gaze. Your spine arches at the sensation once it hits its stride, the angle of friction just right. The indirect touches makes your core throb. Your clit has been achingly sensitive for so long, and the release of tension in a single thrust is enough to make you shudder each time. It feels like you’ve been holding the feeling in your entire life. You wheeze his name out brokenly as he does it again - a sharp thrust, precise enough to be perfect like he already knows you that well.  
Your lower body feels week as the arousal starts to climb to a steady chorus. You pant for him like a bitch in heat.  
He’s not inside you but the smack of his hips against yours makes you feel like you’re getting fucked anyways. You imagine how it’ll feel when he really fucks you and can’t see straight after the fact. Each little movement spreads precum along your shorts, already wet with your own arousal. The friction of the damp fabric makes you cry out from pleasure,  animalistic with need. Your nails dig into his biceps as he kisses you all over, wherever he can possible reach. Along your neck, shoulders, collarbones chest. Any place he has accsess.  
You want him so fucking deep it’s frustrating, want him up to your throat - but the lack of direct touch makes you want him more desperately. And it makes it feel so, so good. The kind of pleasure that’s dull and throbbing but makes something in your spine go alight, like shoving your thumb into a bruise. You want Hajime to press himself into you hard enough to make the healed dull yellows vibrant purple and red all over again.  
You gasp helplessly each time he rocks his hips into you. He’s whispering such filth against your ear, into your mouth each time you kiss and you can’t reply with anything but his name. He praises you each time anyway, goads you into saying it again. Again and again and again until you can’t find your own voice.  
“Say it again,” Hoarse, punctuated by another thrust that nearly drives you over the edge and makes your eyes go wide. “Say my name again, baby”  
“Hajime.” So you say it- can’t think of any substitute since you’re not sure god would suffice. Locked between you in the warm sticky air is just Hajime, all yours.  
Every muscle in your body starts to lock up as you hit the final stride to your orgasm. You want to cum so badly for him and only him. All over his cock in any way he’ll light you. The thought pushes you over the edge. Over and over and over until you hang over the precipice of your own orgasm. When it hits, it hits like a crash of thunder on open plain. Like suddenly everything in you that’s every been grounded in Earth is scattered with sparks, skating and careening across your body. You feel him in the fiber of your being. Your toes curl at the sudden release, not able to voice a warning that isn’t just a soft gargle in the back of your throat. He doesn’t stop or stutter in his motion, instead gripping your hips tight as he can while lets you run through your high - nothing but praise and affection.  
You can feel him more than you can see him cum along with you. Sticky, hot seed flowing in spurts as his dick twitches for you - his ragged breathing covering your skin in goosebumps. You moan at the warm sensation drenching your poor, covered pussy and find the load to be wasted though you feel contented anyway. 
 You’re barely sane enough to catch your breath, but he eventually lets you down - though you can’t keep from hugging him. You pull back to look at each other.  
You brush the sweat matted hair away from his forehead with a lovesick sigh and giggle. He looks down at you with a grin, pressing his forehead to yours with.  
“Can’t believe I came in my pants like a teenager,” He says through a laugh.  
“It’s like making up for lost time,” You say warmly, all floaty. “Plus, the way you were fucking me but not fucking me…definitely a man. It was really hot, you know?”  
He groans. “I’ll get riled up again.”  
You smile at him. “Let’s fuck lots for your birthday, Hajime.”  
“Is that the present you mentioned earlier?”  
You pretend to think on it. “Mm..no. Not just the sex, anyway.” 
He looks at you confused as you lean in closer to him. “It’s safe so there’s no condoms anywhere in this apartment, unless you wanna go stop to get some.”  
He gives you a blown out look of lust with a soft breath, voice bordering a growl. “As if I’d make it through the door now.”  
You laugh helplessly happy and kiss him. “Happy birthday.” And then a little quieter. “I love you.”  
He softens visibly but doesn’t say anything else. You don’t need to hear him to know.  
You think the spare copy of your keys might make him cry. So you decide you’ll give it to him later. 
 The clock hasn���t hit midnight yet, anyhow. You have plenty of time.  
Now and always.  
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xo-cod · 11 months
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141 + reader
hc's when you five share the barracks together/just in general <3 (ooc, rushed my bad lmao, can be read platonically/romantically, reader is v close to them!!) kinda long oops 😩 might do a part 2 idk
nsfw version 🩷
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there's a whole lot of testosterone and musk in the air when you're sharing living spaces with 4 men ‼️
all four men compete with each other to get your attention, even if it's unknowingly
whole lotta pouting when you're spending time with more man than the other, you're a great companion ;) and the army is lonely. they all need equal love and attention
speaking of, if you're smelling like one of them the other will immediately bundle you in his arms to put his scent on you instead and to cancel out the other (alpha behaviour 😵‍💫)
whole lotta flirting from each of them. they're all very intelligent soldiers, they know exactly what to say to get you going 😙
all of them adore the height difference with you. you get teased about it relentlessly (out of love obvi)
i don't think they're particularly messy men but ghost and gaz are the most cleanest, they like having their things in order and knowing where everything is
price is next because he's slumped with being captain so you'll see a lot of his paperwork around with coffee mugs from pulling all nighters
soap is more organised mess. it might look messy to you but he knows exactly where everything is
you, soap and gaz definitely have rap battles late at night. it starts of quiet but you'll usually hear price shouting at you three from his bedroom to stfu. ghost threatens to pull a grenade if you don't be quiet
assuming you're naturally a good cook, they'd all be so appreciative :") especially on bad days, your cooking reminds each of them of home (or lack of)
face masks! gaz would 100% be down to do them with you, soap would follow next because if gaz is doing it then he too???
ghost would roll his eyes, continuing polishing his guns with a rag "you ain't putting that muck on my face"
price would just look at you, shaking his head "got too much to do, sweetness"
but you're quite the convincer and all four men are on the floor of your bedroom, gossiping about the last mission with their preferred colour of face mask across their faces
assuming you're the only woman, they get very protective when you're hurt. soldiers get hurt from time to time but its different when it's you
"you alright, bonnie?" soap's gentle voice comes through your room as he hands you a warm mug of your fave drink
gaz had you wrapped in a big fluffy blanket, gently stroking your back
"who was it?" ghost's voice is firm, wanting to know who dared injured the youngest member of their team
"already got a handle on 'em" price follows, looking at the computer. whatever enemy dared to raise their hands on wished they'd be six feet under after all four men are done with them
you're the one each man needs when they're having a particularly bad day which are usually far in few between but sometimes it happens
gaz and soap are the types to seek you out, their faces settled in a troubled frown before they place their arms around you. no questions just yet, they just want to feel skin to skin for now. keeping them grounded before they can explain what happened. they're not looking for a fixer, just someone who'll listen
ghost and price are the type to isolate themselves for a while until it's night and then you'll find them gently knocking on your bedroom door and slipping inside, between your covers. their grip is strong, burying their faces deep into your neck whilst trying to wrap his arms as much as he can. these two won't talk much either, just looking to be held and stroked to calm down
ghost and soap are the type to show affection through lingering touches while gaz and price show affections through their words.
but speaking of hugs, each of them have their own special way they like to embrace
ghost thinks he's being slick but you realise just how touchstarved he really is, he gives hugs with his arms around your shoulders bringing you in to his chest. mostly because he's tall and broad but he likes how he can manhandle you from this position and smelling your scent <3
soap's the type to tackle you in a playful hug, maybe a spin to get a laugh out of you before he gently strokes your skin for a few seconds, a gentle kiss to your temple <3
price likes to hug from behind, resting his chin on your head while he looks at what you're doing. depending on you, his big arms are either wrapped on your waist or your shoulders <3
gaz gives side hugs because he likes linking his arm around your hips and he likes how you fit snugly into his body. and this way he can lean his head against yours and can bring you in closer with his other arm <3
all four can immediately smell you before you come in because they adore whatever perfume/spray you have
each of them would absolutely melt into pieces if you joined them/kept them company in what they were doing
and if they catch you in a towel after having a shower, best believe they're quickly walking back around to where they came from to help alleviate the growing... tent in their pants
lowkey kinda pervy 🫣 (never in a harmful way)
each of them have their strong points and would 100% train you in becoming stronger
even if you're a well established soldier, they all worry for your safety
price would teach you sniper techniques, ghost teaches you combat, gaz teaches you how to sharpen your aim and soap teaches you about explosives and how to construct/dismantle each of them
they take the training very seriously with you
a ton of cursing when their fave team loses lmaoo
if you're avid tea drinker, join the gaz/ghost/price club. if you're not, join the hater club with soap <3
ghost/gaz/soap will playfully fight with you, careful not to use their full strength and not to harm you. but it's so cute to them when you're struggling a little under them.
but when price scolds them in doing so, "i'm just helping in case there's an attack!"
if you're arguing against one of them, another will come to your defence. unless you're arguing all four then it's the silent treatment from you 🤭
all four of them melt when you call them by their real name instead of their callsign :")
ghost usually comes to you when his balaclava is broken and he'll keep you company as your fingers work their magic to the fabric, gently leaning against you as you speak to him
price will let you shape up his beard after you begging to do so and he grows to enjoy those tender moments
soap definitely calls for your help to shape up his mohawk, he trusts your hand to eye coordination above anyone elses
ghost will playfully ruffle your hair whenever you both pass each other
price gives you a gentle squeeze on the shoulder
gaz gives you a soft stroke on your arm or back whenever he's passing by
soap will gently tap his head against yours, not too hard to cause pain but just enough to know that he's there
but above all, the barracks you five share is definitely a safe space for each of them the second they come through the door <333
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teletubbyinlipstick · 22 days
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More Hybrid!Poly TF141 x Reader pleaaasseeeee? 🥹
(ps, love your writing!)
OwlHybrid!Poly TF141 X Reader
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Thank you for reading. You're all so sweet for the support! I'm negl. I didn't expect people to read it, haha. I'm so shocked by the love.
Thankyou @bina-passion-fruit for the morning after idea! See her reblog of the first part for the gist. And please feel free to send in scenarios you could see these birbs end up in!
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The next day IS tense. The atmosphere has never been this suffocating.
Not in their own home.
Gaz sits curled up in Johnny's frame at the breakfast nook, head resting on the older mans shoulder, a deep frown setting into his face. His eyes are crusted a little, nose still deep red and cheeks puffy. He looks thoroughly exhausted, like he hasn't slept.
They all do.
Johnny has a cuppa sitting untouched. It's luke warm by now, but he can't bring himself to drink it. Face mirroring Gaz's, glaring down at the coffee like it has personally offended him. Every couple minutes, he huffs deeply, eyes darting away from the cup to glance around as if in thought, but he inevitably ends up gazing lost into his cup again.
Price and Simon are at the stove and counter. Quietly discussing things that need to be done for the day. There's lulls of silence in their convos, moments where their minds wander to the dove sleeping down the hall. Price feels guilt eating him alive. He's hunched a bit, chin tucked down in a clear sign of forlorn. Simon continues to run a hand up his spine soothingly, pressing closer to offer as much comfort as he can. But he can't deny the stabs of agony he, himself, feels.
It's raw. It sucks.
And Simon feels so fucking lost in this moment. He wants to gather all his mates in his arms (even you) and shush, coo, and coddle until there's nothing but purrs, chirps, and preened content lovers piled into a nest. He wants to scent you and rub you in their things to let you know you're safe and cared for now. He sees the trauma, the fear when Johnny reached for you. The self soothing you do by rubbing your arms.
He sees you. And in doing so, he sees himself. A scared fledgling unsure of the world, burned and bitten, spat upon by those who swore to love them.
Someone hurt you.
Tore at your feathers until you were too scared to take flight. And if Ghost ever gets a name he'd tear the motherfuckers wings from their spine.
The pitter patter of footsteps approaching the kitchen lifted them from their haze, four pairs of eyes snapping to you as you sleepily shuffled in. You wore a simple oversized t shirt and sweatpants to bed, hair rumpled from sleep, eyes and cheeks red and puffy from sleep. They can see the tear streaks dried from last night and it breaks their heart all over again.
Price makes the first move, taking a small step towards you with a plate held out. Buttered toast, sizzling eggs, and red srawberries sit on top.
"G'mornin' sweetheart, hope you slept well. 'Ve cooked some breakfast. There's coffee in the pot. Help yourself." Soft eyes gaze down at you. He's hunched inwards a little, head tilted down and the sweetest smile gracing his face. You feel very flustered, keenly aware of the 3 other sets of eyes intently watching.
Taking a deep breath, you offer a half smile, grasping the plate with slightly shaky hands.
"Uhm..t-thankyou, sir"
"John."
Wide doe eyes peer up at him, shock clear on your face. He feels his lips quirk at the sight.
"My mates call me John. Not sir. We're equal here, okay? You call me by my name." When his hand reaches out, you don't swat it away this time, only watching in marvel as he tucks hair behind your ears, crows feet aligning his kind eyes.
Taking a shaky breath, a soft, geniune smile spreads across your face, eyes darting to your feet and back up as you turn to the table. Johnny and Gaz are staring right at you, wings perked up. Gaz is quickest to his feet, pulling out a chair, a handsome grin settling on face. Pretty boy, you muse to yourself. Sitting down with a grateful smile and a hushed thankyou.
A hand reaches past your shoulder, jarring and unexpected. You whip your head up to see Simon offering a placate smile down at you, other palm face up to soothe. You tilt your head owlishly, blinking at him. It causes the older mans lips to quirk up on one side, brown eyes softening as he gazes down at you. He nods his head towards the table, and upon looking back to your plate, you realize he sat down a fork...oh.
Tears welled in your eyes, and a sniffle broke through. Simon's eyes widened a fraction, quickly backing away with both his hands raised, palm up.
"'M sorry luvie, didn't mean t'startle you."
It was sincere, filled with guilt. A small sob breaks past your lips. Johnny whines high in his throat, reaching out for your hand across the table, only to stop short, unsure if you'd appreciate the contact. His lips are once again pulled down, eyes saddened.
"Bonnie?..." Murmured so quietly into the air, the boys hold their breath, pulling their wings in to appear smaller. You wipe at your face again, sniffling, eyes glossy and cheeks rosy. And when you finally lifted your head, the last thing they expected was to see the brightest grin painted across your face, pure happiness shining, tear streaks lined with joy.
"No one's ever been so kind to me...thankyou. All of you."
Oh, dove, you haven't seen anything yet.
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gladiatorcunt · 4 months
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🎾 - #LOVE ON THE FLOOR !!
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cw: unrealistic public sex on a tennis court 💀 (it’s nighttime and no one else is there), college era, afab reader, gross friends to lovers, strip tennis, soft dom!art x inexperienced!reader, vaginal fingering + titfucking + brief analingus (afab reader receiving), implied (soft) obsession & toxicity like art would marry you tomorrow, teasing (towards reader), nipple sucking (m receiving), art putting in overtime to hit on oblivious!reader, reader is so comically unaware pls just roll with it and suspend your disbelief, mandatory Patrick™️ mention, 3.5k of pure need, art’s so horny in this like 😔 (+subtle implications of him either being a manwhore or a porn addict, as a little treat), lowkey canon typical mind games, unedited
this was requested by a bot looking blog that i had to block but the idea still slapped! combined with an ask for inexperienced reader
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Art Donaldson sees your instagram story that’s only a repost of a Ethel Cain song and tries not to click his heels together. It’s not like he’s happy you’re clearly going through something, but if the story is a result of what he thinks it’s a result of… then he’ll comfort you through it however he can. With his words, his tongue, babying you in the bath and washing your hair, etc. Just getting to be intimate with you at all is an opportunity he’d never turn down.
Suddenly you’re bursting into Art’s dorm like a bat out of hell, tears dotting your waterline and lower lip wobbling. His heart lurches and leaps in equal measures, his backwards cap feels like it constricts around his head as he resists the urge to fidget with it.
“He… he didn’t show up!”
Art shoots up and gets off his bed, rushing to you and rubbing his hands up and down your arms, “What are you talking about?”
He gives you a lingering hug and passes you some of your favorite fast food that he always keeps in the little fridge in his dorm. Somehow knowing that it’d be just what the doctor ordered, you’re so lucky to have such a caring friend. You two haven’t left each other’s side since you bumped him on the first day of class, bringing a clice to life by spilling your coffee all over his polo. Sometimes you still lie awake at night and cringe at yourself, trying to assure yourself that he’s stuck around your awkward ass for a reason.
You’re hiccuping through your story while munching on your chicken sandwich, “Mark acted so exicted yesterday, and now he’s stood me up. I waited in front of the café for an hour, people were staring…”
Art eyes you from his position on the bed, crowding against you due to the size and having half of his torso glued to your back. He doesn’t giggle at the adorable way you get frustrated when the pickle in your sandwich always slides out in between your teeth during a bite, but he thought about it! He reaches up and brushes his fingers against your hair, wanting to just touch it more than move it.
“I don’t know what to tell you, he’s an idiot and you’ll move on. It’s not like he’s the only person in the world.” He grumbles, not quite pouting as he hooks his chin on your shoulder.
“Okay now you’re just grumpy because I beat you at uno.” You tease, gesturing to the scattered pile of brightly colored cards on the bed.
He’s definitely made you feel better though, he always does. You both finish your food and Art stands up from the bed to grab his tennis bag. He pulls you up too and winks, saying that you can’t beat him at everything. You ask what he’s doing and he only grins, telling you to come with him. You nervously glance around as you’re pulled to race through the halls to the court. There’s a simmering feeling weaving in and out of your tightly intertwined fingers.
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Art lets go of your hand to drop his bag on the ground, leaving your palm feeling strangely cold without his warmth.
You’re still not sure you should even be out here, you know that you’re definitely not allowed but Art seems to sense your hesitation because he rushes towards you and cups your hands in his.
“Hey, it’s okay. You’re not gonna get in trouble or anything, y’know that?” He chuckles, gently knocking the tip of his nose against yours. “Look up for me, the moon’s really pretty tonight.”
You follow his lead and tilt your head back to gaze up at the goregous crescent moon high in the oil colored sky. You don’t notice that he’s looking at you instead, that he doesn’t say that the moon reminds him of you but he feels like the one orbiting around you instead of the other way around. Luckily there’s not a cloud in sight, just a floating city of stars with a glowing center. Art lightly pulls on your wrists, clearly wanting your attention back on him, so you comply.
You’re not the sharpest knife in the drawer, but you don’t miss the odd glint in his eyes as he narrows them slightly.
His eyelids crinkle as he smiles charmingly, “Don’t you trust me?”
You answer with your heart, “Yes, of course I do.”
He beams at you and explains the rule of the game he dragged you all the way out here to play. It’s just like a regular game of tennis so you really shouldn’t sweat it, he says. His expression shifts when he makes a show out of being unable to look you in the eye when he tells you the special rules, knowing full well you can see him try to tamper down a self satisfied laugh. Whoever scores gets to pick whatever piece of clothing the other takes off, and the loser of the game has to get completely naked if they aren’t already.
Your cheeks warm and you gawk at him, “Isn’t it weird that you’ll see me… like that?”
“So you already know you’re gonna lose, huh? And it’s not like i haven’t seen most of it before.” Art laughs, not bothering to hide the blush on his face. “You’ve seen all of me, anyway.”
It’s true, you usually laze around in nothing but your underwear and that’s been the norm for you two. Art’s no different, he’ll change in front of you and will literally walk around butt naked around your dorm. More often than not, he’ll answer the door in only a towel around his waist and sitting on his hip bones, no matter if it’s one of your other friends or a project partner. You're constantly having to text the other because you forgot that you left your toothbrush behind. You’ve never had a chance to be embarrassed by it. It’s been like that for the longest time and anytime you’ll tell Art that your friends keep asking if he’s your boyfriend, he’ll just reassure you that you guys are just really close. And isn’t that a good thing?
“Besides, I think this’ll help get you out of your shell.”
You’re embarrassed at the reminder of how inexperienced you are. Sure, you shouldn’t have a whole thing about it or whatever, but it just is kind of alienating from other people your age to not be able to say you’ve done what they’ve done. And you would’ve been able to have some stories of your own if you could manage to hold down a date. But tonight isn’t supposed to be about you wallowing, you’re supposed to be having fun. Even if the sight of your best friend in tight fitting sporty clothes makes your pussy throb.
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You giggle nervously when he comes up behind you and wraps his arms around you, swaying you from side to side before moving his grip up to your arms.
“Relax, i’m just checking your form. Being close to you is just a bonus.” He winks and presses his stomach up against your back.
It’s so cheesy, the situation and the pose. But you lean into his touch and pretend to care about how he’s showing you the right way to hold a racket and all that, he doesn’t even really care if he’s being honest. It’s romantic though, and he can’t resist the opportunity to get a taste of what it’d be like to pin your body down with his weight. He guides you through a few “practice” swings and then throws a two finger salute at you as he jogs around the net to his side of the court.
It’s your serve, and despite you being very much a beginner, you get the first point.
Art stands there expectantly, cocking his head to the side and bouncing on his heels in anticipation. You honestly didn’t consider that you’d actually be telling your best friend to take off his clothes for you, but you’re new thing is taking shit in stride, you guess.
“So, what’s it gonna be?” He shouts and hovers his fingers around the collar of his polo, ready for you to say the word.
You take the coward’s way out, “Your shoes.”
Art frowns but obeys the rules, swiftly unlacing his sneakers and tossing them to the side. The court’s not so rough that it’d be hell on his feet, but he’d do it for you even if it was all a bunch of jagged rocks cobbled together. The game goes on with Art scoring the next point, and then the one after that. He has you discard your necklace, one of those cheesy half heart ones that matches with one he has, and your shoes as well. He doesn’t wanna scare you off, but he knows what he wants to have you take off for him.
You score the next time, down goes his pants. Without them, few things are left to the imagination. Every time he’d walk around you naked you’d always keep your face firmly glued to your phone or something. But being faced with the very… detailed outline of his bulge through his underwear, that’s another thing entirely. It looks so long against his thigh it might as well be a third leg. There’s already a little wet spot where the tip must be.
You must’ve been taking too long to ogle him, because Art yells at you to “Focus on the game, yeah?”
You’re lucky it’s not a cold night when he gets the next point and has you take off your pants, which are really just glorified shorts. You unfasten them and shimmy them down your legs, letting them pool around your ankles and kicking them away from you. You haven’t shaved today, but you know that Art doesn’t care about that sort of thing. He’s made sure to tell you as much many times when you complain about how much your back hurts after you get done with it.
Art takes his sweet time dragging his gaze down your legs, already imagining bringing them around his waist or over his shoulders. Your panties are so cute too, cupping your pussy so closely that he can see the shapes of your puffy lips from all the way on the other side of the court, a “camel toe” or whatever you call it. He thinks it’s so hot, but you’re shy about it, asking him to see how you look in jeans that are a size too small. He always does a thorough inspection.
Whoever scores next wins the game, and you’re too busy trying not to fall on your ass to put any effort into it. It’s not a real game away, and besides, it’s not like anything has to happen when the loser completely undresses. Out of the corner of your eye you see Art’s dick twitch in his briefs and you get so distracted that you freeze and miss the neon yellow-green ball hurtling past you. Art whoops and cheers as you process the fact that you lost.
“You know what that means.” Art grins from ear to ear. “Make a show out of it for me.”
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You don’t even mind the staring, it’s such a common thing that you’d be more pissed off if he wasn’t looking at you at all. The way his eyes devour every inch of bare skin and drop of sweat that you earned during the game. You pull your tank top up and over your head, leaving you in just your bra and panties. Your bra isn’t a frilly thing, you wear it mainly for support, but Art can’t seem to tear himself away from the view of your pushed up tits rising and falling as you breathe.
You…. don’t know what to do now, the big appeal of the game is over, you awkwardly laugh it off and bend over to pick up your clothes. Art shakes his head to snap himself out of his horny fever dream and races over to you, latching onto your wrist and stopping you from getting dressed again.
“You’re supposed to take it all off, remember?”
You drop your clothes, noticing that he still doesn’t let you go.
Heats fills your cheeks as he steps closer, delicately sliding his fingertips up the inside of your arm and around your back. He plays with the hook of your bra, gazing down at you with a look full to brim with unknown intent and purpose. He doesn’t do something as bold as unlatching it right out the gate, no, he just stares into your soul.
“I remember.” Your eyes drop down to his lips, and that’s when you know it’s over. “Can’t exactly do it myself if you’ve already got one foot in the door.”
You’ve gotta know when to fold ‘em, and all that.
Art softly smiles and loops his fingers under your bra strap. You have to remind yourself to breathe, but you don’t really get much of a chance to. Before you can stop yourself and think with your head, you’re canting up to press your lips to his. Art immediately kisses you back, chuckling into the kiss when you gasp as he expertly unhooks your bra with one hand.
In the blink of an eye, you’re flat on your back on the court, Art having hastily thrown his shirt under you while you were tangling your tongues together. He presses an array of wet open mouthed kisses down your body, paying extra special attention to the trimmed patch of hair at the top of your mound.
“Smells so good, ‘s cute, too. It figures you’d have the prettiest pussy I've ever seen.” He coos, dragging a lone finger down your slit before gently pushing it inside.
You gasp, wrenching your eyes shut tight at the intrusion. He takes good care of you, slowly sinking his finger in to the knuckle and sliding it in and out of you. He gradually adds more fingers as the minutes pass. Your walls throb around him, and if Art were a weaker man (like the guy you almost went out with) he would’ve said fuck it and plunged his dick into your cunt in one smooth stroke. But you deserve the best first time possible, and all the distractions he’s used have helped him be patient enough to refrain from humping you like a dog.
“You’re okay, you can take it. It’s nothing compared to what this pussy’s going to be taking later anyway, baby.” He hums and nuzzles his nose into where your inner thigh meets your mound.
As he’s languidly thrusting his fingers into your puffy pussy, Art strains his neck to lap at your ass. He holds one of your fat cheeks in his free hand and spreads you open, diving in to suck on the puckered hole between them. He sharpens his tongue and jabs it into your ass, his cock throbs when you let out the sweetest little squeals at the squelching and throaty noises he’s making. He can feel your hole unfurling with every slurp and suck, something that only makes him increase the speed of his long fingers in your pussy, maintaining a breathtaking steady rhythm.
Eventually his poor leaking cock can’t take anymore grinding into the ground, so Art crooks his fingers and (albeit a bit cruelly) jams them into your sweet spot. The velvet grip of your pussy strangles his digits like a dream, you’d take dick so beautifully. Your eyes fly open and your throat spasms around a mangled moan. He pulls his fingers out of your soaking wet pussy, smirking up at you as he sucks them try like a professionally trained whore. Your clit receives a loving kitten lick as an apology for neglecting it, and with that Art hovers over you at an even eye to eye level again.
“Holy shit…” You pant and flick his pebbled nipples, absentmindedly rolling them around with your thumb. “Are we really doing this?”
“Yeah, we are.” Art sighs, his head falls back as you duck down to suck his nipples into your mouth, the saliva you lathered them with dripping down your chin. He grabs the back of your head and pushes your face into his chest, arching his back.
“Relax, I bribed security and told them to fuck off for the night.”
That doesn’t concern you as much as it should, you’re too transfixed on Art wrenching your mouth off of his pecs and moving to straddle your chest.
“Can you push them together for me?” He breathes hard and grinds his weeping cock against your tits, mesmerized by how his precum makes your skin glisten.
“Oh, fuck.” He groans when you do, making quick use out of the delicious new friction the little pocket provides. “Thanks, honey.”
You keep staring at the tip of his dick, loving the little peek you get of it as he fucks your tits and it pokes your chin. You don’t even realize you’re doing it but you let your mouth hang open, angling your head down so his cockhead pecks your tongue at the end of every thrust. You make sure to lick every drop of pre cum away as it oozes out of him, looking so nice against the flushed pink skin of his tip. Art groans when he finally summons the strength to watch you do it, the sight hurtling him over the edge before he has the time or vocal ability to warn you.
His thick load jets out to land all over your tits, half of it on the lower half of your face. You’re almost sad it didn’t get high enough to clump your lashes together, it would’ve made for the perfect contact picture. Oh well, maybe next time. It’s amazing, the switch you’ve made from the shy friend to the writhing slut underneath him. You blame it on the honest to God sweet taste of his milky white cum, surprisingly making you think of the pineapples he always snatches from your plate when you eat at school together.
(Another painstaking effort made just for you, love)
It’s a miracle you get back to his dorm, some of your clothes are swapped and put on incorrectly and you both didn’t clean up at all. As soon as you reach the door, Art practically shoves you inside and onto the bed. He gets so frustrated with having to get your clothes off again that he just rips them right off of you, promising to take you to the mall tomorrow (or whenever he lets you leave the bed) to buy replacements. You literally couldn't care less if he shackles you to the wall, you need him to rearrange your guts so badly, you’d kill for it. Should you be having deep conversations about your feelings and what the future will look like? Absolutely, but your clit is clouding your sense of rationality and you don’t mind that right now.
“Do you even know how much i’ve wanted this? To fuck you so hard that we end up attached at the hip?” He bites, breaking away from your lips to suck bruises down the column of your throat. “We can have a baby- please have my baby, fuck!”
There’s something so weirdly romantic about the leftover scent of the court combined with the twinkling stars outside. Art’s moans and hands scrambling to pin you down so all you have to do is take it, you’re doing things all out of order, but this was always going to happen sooner or later. Art is a clumsy manipulator but he’s so handsome… you find yourself agreeing to every frantic declaration flying out of his mouth as he spears his long cock into your sopping wet pussy. You claw red lines into his shoulders and back, and Art nearly creams on the spot. The sting and the fact that you’re so out of it, you’re marking him up, are crossing the wires in his brain. His taut thighs burn with the effort of fucking you so far into the mattress.
You’ll get to cum four more times than he does, and by the end of it you’ll wish you never came at all. Your soul’s goikg to be so far away from your ruined mess of limbs that you won’t notice the sacred promises being muttered into your sweaty hair or pay attention to your phone being out on Do Not Disturb. You’ll be right where you should be, inevitably molded around the shape of his dick and branded by all the love bites that litter your body. You’ll think you passed out during most of them, but you’ll give him a loopy smile, hook your pinky around his, and let yourself melt away.
It feels as if your walls are still clenching around a dick that’s no longer buried to the hilt in them.
“I love you”’s are for early mornings with coffee and pancakes. Gloating to Patrick will be for hours before then, Art blocking him when you’re deep asleep and unable to mend the growing rift between them.
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I don't really understand some people's strong insistence that Buck needs to openly date/play the field now that he's bisexual. Or that it is unlikely/impossible that he could happily settle down with Tommy because he's his first male partner. One, it feels like it's propagating negative stereotypes. And two, it feels like a crucial misunderstanding of Buck's character.
Now, if it was Buck 1.0 who discovered this new facet of his sexuality, sure, he'd probably be hooking up with men and women in equal measure. And hats off to him. The guy's a T-bone steak. But since Abby, he's been in search of a serious, committed relationship. He wants to share a deep and profound connection with someone. More so, he wants to love and be loved in return. So, to me, it isn't surprising at all that even with men added into the equation, he has still zeroed in his attention on a single person (Tommy).
That segues into the other popular talking point that Tommy's only purpose is to serve as a plot device to open Buck's eyes to his bisexuality. If that were the case, then his role in the story would have been accomplished in 7x05. They could have kissed, and gone on their date, have it be crashed by Eddie, Buck putting his foot in his mouth with the 'hot chicks' comment, Tommy stepping back by telling Buck that he isn't ready, and then he could have peaced out of the narrative. ✌️Role fulfilled. Buck could still come out to Maddie and Eddie, accept his new sense of self, and decide that he indeed doesn't desire anything serious at the moment and wants the freedom to explore. His failed date with Tommy could have served as a learning experience and he then could wait for a new guy to catch his interest.
But he doesn't do that. He doubles down on Tommy. He calls him to apologize. He invites him to coffee. He tells him that while this is all new to him, Tommy is the one he wants to explore this with. He invites him to his sister's wedding. He's all in on Tommy. Because he has strong feelings for Tommy. Inviting Tommy to the wedding wasn't just about Buck coming out to his loved ones, it was about introducing them to Tommy as his partner.
Buck is committed to his relationship with Tommy. A relationship that (most likely) is going to continue to grow in the next two episodes and then into the next season. 🤞
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another-lost-mc · 5 months
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Shower Thoughts: Their bathing habits, with and without you.
Featuring: The Demon Brothers x gn!Reader
NSFW // Content: Domestic fluff and non-explicit smut. Sharing a bath/shower together; sexual and non-sexual touching; mentions of teasing, semi-public sex (showering together in the RAD locker room), penetration (Reader receiving).
A/N: Shaking off the rust. I blame the new Nightmare cards by the way. I wanted to write this for the OCs and figured I should show some of the others some love too. Like always, my fav bias is showing. (Most of Asmo's section is based on things that occur in the bath scene of Desperation.)
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LUCIFER
Showering is part of his morning routine - he wants to look and feel his best, his pride won't settle for anything less. (Plus, it helps wake him up for mornings when coffee alone won't do the trick.)
Baths are a rare luxury for him. Ideally, he'll have the house (and your company) all to himself so he can soak in the fragrant bubbles without worrying about what his brothers are getting up to.
(The fact that they're not home and loose in the Devildom is just as worrying, please try to distract him.)
He's not against the idea of shower sex, but it can be cramped and awkward. He would rather tease you with gentle, lingering touches that leave you both a little hot and desperate before leading you to bed where he can enjoy you properly. He's surprisingly unconcerned about getting his bedsheets wet when it means having you naked and willing underneath him as soon as possible.
MAMMON
Mammon usually showers at night. He'd rather have the extra time to sleep in the mornings before class. If he has to work or has a photoshoot, he's definitely showering before bed - he and his bedding are a mess from sticky, gel-caked hair and the eye makeup he didn't remove properly if he doesn't.
He doesn't usually take baths - too boring, too slow - but if you like taking baths...well.
Whether he's in the shower with you or the tub with you, he's open for anything and everything you might want to do. Even an innocent suggestion for a romantic shower or bath together turns dirty quickly when his eyes and hands start to roam across so much exposed, wet skin.
LEVIATHAN
For a self-proclaimed otaku, his showering habits aren't that bad.
Sure, maybe before you came along, he spent less time worrying about his grooming and personal hygiene and more time worrying about his idols' stream schedules and pre-sale ticket dates for the various movies or concerts he wanted to see.
However, you're here now and you're important to him, so whether he wants to admit it or not, that changes things. If he wants you to hang out in his room for hours at a time gaming or binge-watching anime, both him and his room need to be in guest-ready shape.
He showers more often when he's been cooped in his room on the sofa or in his fashionable-but-not-functional gaming chair that makes his back sweat. Even a quick cool-off rinse in the shower is enough to leave him looking and feeling refreshed which is perfect - he hopes he can convince you to cuddle with him in his tub after.
Maybe it's his natural affinity for water, but he enjoys showering or bathing equally. It's tricky when most tubs aren't big enough for him to spread out with his tail out too, but thankfully they're big enough for you to fit in the tub with him which is just as good - better, even!
He's shy with you in the shower or tub. He prefers to stand behind you so he's not tempted to stare at your chest (or lower). No one touches him as gently or with more care as you do. And the way you run your hands along the scales of his tail or his neck...he's going to try and hide his twitching erection from you and hope you don't say anything if you notice it. He can't help how good you make him feel, but he's not always confident enough to return the favour.
If you want him to touch you, you'll probably have to explicitly ask him to - and wouldn't you know it, your hands resting on his while you guide them to move over your body is one of many acts of intimacy he ends up craving from you.
SATAN
He showers in the morning. He's one of the few student council members that wears his uniform properly and I think he wants the rest of him to look and smell good too.
He enjoys a nice bath once in a while. Maybe not as much as Asmo, but they're a semi-regular part of his routine. He can load up the bath tray with a book, even a cup of coffee or snack if he's feeling peckish that night; time passes in a blue as he soaks away some of the stress that burdens him. If you join him for a bath, he'd love to read to you or simply hold you against his chest while music streams from his D.D.D. nearby.
Showers are useful if he's in a rush, or maybe he just wants to rinse off the day's grime (especially if he was at the club or in a fight). Or perhaps he's not in a rush after all, judging by the way he ushers you into the bathroom with him and tugs at your clothing so you can join him under the warm spray.
Whether he simply wants to melt under your fingers as you work suds into his hair and across his body, or if your naked body so close to his is too much temptation to ignore, know that you're probably the only one who gets to see him - all of him - exposed this way.
ASMODEUS
It's no secret that the Avatar of Lust adores his private bathroom, with its high ceiling and numerous cupboards full of fluffy towels and bottles full of the most expensive haircare and body wash and massage oils that Grimm can buy.
His luxurious tub - if you can call it that, considering it's bigger than any hot tub you've ever been in before - is full of fragrant, crystal-clear water that Asmo adds scented oils and skin-softening potions to. No matter how long you bathe together, the water remains clean and warm (there's a handy spell for that).
Asmo loves the intimacy of pampering you and having you do the same for him. It's almost magical, the way he massages you with slow, rhythmic strokes as he washes you with beauty products he personally selects. He considers your preferences above his own so that everything he brings into the bath is scented with your favourite fragrant notes. If you share his bed that night, he can smell you on his pillow and sheets long after you've parted ways.
Naturally, once he's spent his time spoiling you with his tender touches and whispered affection, he's desperate to have your hands on him next.
Bathing doesn't always have to lead to more than soft, teasing touches. He's not against the idea - it wouldn't be the first time his fingers teased between your legs while he nuzzled the back of your neck and nipped at your ear - but this sort of comfort is like divinity to him. It's a sort of worship he offers you that he's offered no one else before, and no matter how much the outside world demands your attention (or his), this is one rare opportunity where you can truly be alone together.
BEELZEBUB
Beel's shower routine is fairly simple. 1. Shower after Fangol practice or games. 2. Shower after eating at a buffet-style restaurant. 3. Shower before bed if nothing else applies.
Of course, Beel learns that there's a certain charm to showering with you too. He used to complain the communal shower he shares with his siblings is a bit too cramped for his liking, and with you it's even worse, but that's simply a convenient excuse to press himself against you while he hardens against your back, or he cages you against the wall while his arms block everything else from view.
(The open showers in the locker room at the Fangol pitch are fun in their own way when post-victory showers with Beel turn frisky from giddy excitement and too much adrenaline to burn.)
Showering is simply a part of his routine, but like most things he does, Beel thinks they're more enjoyable when he can entice you to join him.
BELPHEGOR
Belphie's not necessarily lazy - he just prefers to spend his time and energy doing things that are important to him. It's not his fault if that very short list can be summarized as sleeping and spending time with you.
Sleeping is most comfortable when he's clean from the day's sweat and smells - the last thing he wants to do is ruin the attic's cozy little nest by crawling into bed smelling like anyone else but him and you. That means if he's going to shower before bed, he's dragging you with him if you haven't had one already.
Belphie might not be lazy, but that doesn't mean he won't use every trick in the book to convince you to touch him and pamper him as much as possible. He whines that he's too sleepy to fiddle with all the buttons of his RAD blazer, and he smirks like a satisfied cat while you huff at his ridiculousness and help undress him anyway.
(He knows you indulge him because you like it too - did you think he wouldn't notice the way your eyes roam his bare chest or the way your fingers twitch excitedly when you reach for his belt?)
Shower or bath sex is a bit messy and not as relaxing as he would like - the tiles are hard and cool against your back, it's hard to prep you properly in the tub as water sloshes against the sides and spills over the floor. It's inconvenient and not the sexiest experience in his opinion.
However. The shower is an excellent place to tease you with an innocent pout on his lips and a wicked gleam in his eyes. Lips trail lazily along whatever bare, wet skin they can reach while greedy fingers prepare you for something bigger once you're finally in bed together, moving together lazily in the sheets and putting off cleaning the mess until morning.
(And even if Belphie gets a little carried away in the shower as he stretches you with his fingers or his mouth, or possibly his cock if he's that riled up, the clean-up has never been easier.)
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