#but its so annoying to be messing around with change and trying to find the right currency and needing the right amount | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

princessbrunette · 6 months ago

Text

when lamb!reader had suggested a video call with jj instead of hanging out at her house, it felt simply preventative. she’d been having urges lately, feelings — ones she’s not used to feeling. sometimes when she was around jj, it was like her body had a brain of its own. an unholy and disgraceful brain that went against what she thought she was wishing. she was beginning to believe if they were to hang out in person one on one, she might act out of impulse to sate the desire that had built inside her.

you’d been feeling this way since he’d gifted you that stuffed lamb. he was technically just a friend, no different from the other pogues you’d been hanging out with since trying to find your feet in the obx — but there was a different sort of simmering tension you felt with him and only him. what started as annoying teasing and jabs became warm fluttering in your stomach and unholy thoughts about his hands and mouth. it was like he knew it too, jj always seemed to have this look in his eye, a curl to the corner of his mouth — like there was something about you on the tip of his tongue that he was withholding. it made you want to set yourself alight.

as the call sound rings on your screen, you ponder why you’d made your hair all pretty, and why you’d chosen your best white nightgown. it felt and looked innocent at best, but as much as you’d hate to admit it — the fact there was nothing beneath gave you a rush like no other.

your thoughts were interrupted by his handsome face on your screen.

“fancy seeing you here, lamb chop.” he smirks, that same knowing look in his eye that he always had. without thinking you fiddle with your cross necklace.

“didnt i tell you to stop calling me that?” you respond, feeling as though you hid the hitch in your throat pretty well.

“and why would i listen to you?” he jokes, shuffling in his desk chair — bedroom a mess in his background. you’re about to comment on it, tell him to tidy it on instinct to nag him but he speaks first. “lookin’ real good tonight. you get all pretty for me?”

something about the way he asks that sends heat to your lower regions, something that felt forbidden and wrong and yet addicting.

“i’m just wearing what i sleep in. i figured id check in with you before i get some rest.” it’s an attempt at sounding casual, something you’d clearly applied much time and thought to.

“you wear that to sleep? pan down for me real quick?” you hear him shuffle closer to the screen like he was really trying to get a good look, and without thinking you obey — showing him the white lace of your night gown, from the straps to the way it falls on your upper thigh. he chuckles with a quiet “mm.” sound, and you’re panning back to your face quickly — glancing subconsciously at the door, wondering what your mother might say if she saw you showing your night gown to a boy.

“thats real pretty lil lamb. like you.” you hate how smooth he was, how every compliment had heat rushing to your centre.

“no need to flatter me.” you shrug a shoulder, and he doesn’t miss the way your tits jostle a little at the movement. he even leans on his elbows at his desk, eyes pointed downward unabashedly.

“right, right so… little limbrey… talk me through your night time routine. i wanna step into your shoes for a lil bit.” he settles, always insanely good at making conversation from nothing. you purse your lips in thought, looking around your room.

“well… i showered, changed, and usually before bed i do something stimulating but relaxing to get me ready to sleep and tire me out.” you list, staring at the book going unread on your bedside table. he huffs a laugh through a smirk and his brows shoot up.

“oh yeah? you stimulate yourself? tell me more ‘bout that.” he jokes and you furrow your brows, adorably in his opinion.

“what do you mean?” you question and jj licks his lips, trying to hold himself back from laughing anymore but failing miserably.

“ah, i’m just playin’ with you babydoll— carry on.” he waves a hand but you’re curious now. perhaps you sensed there was some innuendo behind it, but you pushed anyway— your inner excitement getting the better of you. you shift on your bed to lay on your side, getting more comfortable.

“i wanna laugh too, tell me what it means?” you pout grumpily which makes him relent instantly.

“nah… i was just makin’ a joke about… you know… you playin’ with yourself. ‘lotta people do that before they sleep.” he dismisses, and usually you’d scold him or make a face — but tonight, you’re not sure what possesses you — you ask,

“do you?”

jj blinks in surprise at the question for a second.

“do…uh, well,” he coughs awkwardly and you already regret asking. you cast your eyes downwards. “yeah, i do. you don’t ever… indulge?”

you’re quick to shake your head, though you’re lying. you’ve tried a few times.

“its a sin.” the words are instinctual when they leave you, and it only deepens jj’s amused expression that forms once more across his handsome features.

“yeah uh, no shit honey. you gotta release sometimes though right? s’better that way… keeps the sinful activities at bay so you don’t go out n’make bad choices. preventative procedures n’all that shit.” he converses, scratching his temple — a habit you’d pick up on when he’s a tad nervous or apprehensive.

you’d never thought of it that way before, so you take a moment to stare into space — a rush of relief coming over you. he was right. it had to be better than going and sleeping around, surely.

“wow, that’s… uncharacteristically insightful.”

“i’on know what that means—”

“you’re right. i don’t feel so bad anymore.” you chime, looking rather elated. his smile returns and he tilts his head.

“yeah? so you do indulge?” he drags it out, like he wants to tease you but he doesn’t wanna push too hard and shut you down again. you bite your lip, mulling over his question.

“m’not great at it, but yes.” you try to remain prideful, sticking your nose up a little.

“comes with practice i guess. i’mma beat around the bush here — i’d say i know my way around lady parts pretty good so like, if you ever need any pointers… on how to… y’know, suppress your urges… i got’chu.” he tries to sound nonchalant, careful, even shrugs for added effect. what he doesn’t see, is your hand reaching blindly to your bedside table and turning the framed image of Jesus to be face down.

twenty minutes later, and you’re hot in the face with your back propped up against a load of frilly, fluffed pillows. the laptop sits between your spread legs, displaying your open glossy cunt centre screen, your fingers stroking circles over your throbbing bud as you try to suppress your whimpers.

“uh-huh, juuuuuust like that. you wanna try rubbin’ it up and down? or do you wanna stick to the whole circle thing.” beneath his desk, jj slowly rolls his fist over his cock. he felt kinda weird about it, but he didn’t wanna alert you to the fact he was helping himself too— thinking it might freak you out and make you call it a night.

“‘like it like this!” you squeak, being mindful of your volume. you knew the pain meds had likely knocked your mother out clean by now, but you could never be too careful. you buck your hips against your hand, and even through the quality of the video call jj can see the arousal pooling between your spread legs. you had no idea how needy you could be.

“god damn, mama— you needed this, huh?” he chuckles, but it’s kind and he’s not teasing, infact there’s a softness to it. an affection.

“mhmmm.” you release in a whine, and jj is thrilled. he loved that he got you like this, letting go of all your beliefs for a while, forgetting it all because your head is so hazy with pleasure.

“keep rubbing just like that, yeah? just like i’d do it.” he mutters the last part, but he knows you hear it when your eyes flutter open, hand slowing. shit. he didn’t want you to come to your senses about just how sinful this whole thing was— he was barely teaching anymore, more so talking you through it.

his eyes widen a tad and his own hand freezes. “shit, uh— sorry ‘bout that. that’s my bad, i got carried away.”

in a whisper, with furrowed brows like it pained your very being to ask, you come forth with “keep talking like that.”

it stuns him for a few second, and his thumb swipes over his tip again. “wait… for real?”

“unfortunately it’s…mmph— it’s the only thing that’s gonna get me there. i’m tired, jj… i just wanna… i wanna—”

“cum?” he tries to stop the grin by pressing his tongue to the corner of his mouth, and his expression softens when he sees the way you melt, more arousal dribbling from you.

“yeah.” you groan, causing jj to pout in faux sympathy.

“yeah? i got you mama. keep strokin’ that pretty thing. i’mma tell you right now, you’re missin’ out on this tongue. i could make you feel things you never thought you could feel. would make you cream so hard you’d have tears down them pretty cheeks. that what you wanna hear, lil lamb?”

“oh… oh god!” your toes clench, everything clenches.

“nah baby, it ain’t god. s’just me.”

#jj maybank prompt #lamb!reader #tw religion #tw jesus idk #idk how to tag these things guys please

901 notes · View notes

weepingwillowwonder · 3 months ago

Text

Horny Hazbin Hotel Thoughts: NSFW AHEAD [Minors DNI! 🔞] -> -> ->

RadioApple x Reader

CW: Making out in a public space, dry humping, groping, finger sucking

~~~

☆ Just know that Alastor WILL catch you if you're trying to piss him off on purpose, so you might as well prepare yourself to take your punishment where you stand. If you choose to run, you can absolutely try, but most of the time you won't get very far. However, Alastor prefers to keep your relationship and what happens within it private. So you might have a shot at getting away with it temporarily if you provoke him in public.

☆ Initially he would be confused with your abnormal behavior, because it's rare that anyone actively looked for a negative reaction from him, much less yourself. Oh, but once he realized you were toying with his nerves on purpose, he'd make sure you'd never want to play this game again (or at least not for a while)

☆ Quite quickly he'd become obviously annoyed, distancing himself to prevent any "outbursts" with you or anyone else. He would be tense, the feeling of his stare bore into your skin from across the room. They would follow wherever you went, tracking for a moment you'd be alone, but you would continue to avoid him, trying to hide in plain sight.

☆ It would be impossible to get away from him, this you knew, so you would try to delay the inevitable by chatting with the other residents in the lobby, mentally preparing your next move…

☆ You figure finding Lucifer to get him on your side, to use him to your advantage, would extend your naughty game. After all, it was much more fun when you could share the blame and punishment with someone else.

☆ You wait on Lucifer’s return from his meeting out of town, ready to invite him into the mess you’ve made. He makes his appearance right on time and you smile at his presence, quickly waving him over. What you didn't expect though, was how quickly Alastor pulled Lucifer aside to ask for his assistance before you could.

☆ "Ah, perfect timing your majesty! Might I have a word? It's about something rather...important."

☆ Across the room you watch them speak in hushed tones and eventually their gazes fall on you. Lucifer's expression changed from curiosity, scrunched up in confusion, then lastly heated in anticipation.

☆ Lucifer quietly strides over to the group next to you, nodding in greeting, then leans in to mumble in your ear.

☆ "You seem to have gotten yourself in quite a bit of trouble there, hm?"

☆ You can only give him a coy smile, unsure how to respond. He returns with a more devious one. He chuckles as his hand then comes to firmly rest on your lower back.

☆ "I'm afraid I can't get you out of this one, sweetheart..."

☆ He then acknowledges the other residents, giving some excuse on why you both need to leave right now, which you do leave together, but as you turn back to search for Alastor, you find that he is no longer sitting where he was. As a matter of fact, he’s completely disappeared.

☆ Once out of sight from the others, Lucifer's hand finds its way around you to rest on your hip. Fingers slipping underneath the fabric of your shirt to come in contact with your sensitive skin. You're especially on edge not knowing where your 3rd party is at the moment and what was discussed in your absence.

☆ Lucifer takes a quick look behind you, making sure you're both alone before pulling you into a heated kiss. You gasp in surprise as your back hits the wall of the hallway, easily melting against the body in front of you. A hand comes to your cheek to deepen the kiss, another pulling you close at the hip.

☆ Your arms wrap around his neck, and he takes that as a sign to pick you up, pressing your back firmly into the wall for support.. He effortlessly slides his hands to your ass and pulls you against him, forcing you to wrap your legs around him.

☆ When you separate briefly, you gain the sense in your kiss-drunken state to ask about your missing partner. "Luci...where's Alastor?" You breathe out heavily, moaning when you feel him grinding into you.

☆ He buries his head in your shoulder as his hips continually rolls against yours, giving you a quiet, dismissive "mhm" as he practically fucks you through your clothes. And you can't help but meet his thrusts, the delicious feeling of his bulge rubbing perfectly between your legs has you throbbing.

☆ When your needy hole clenches around nothing, you whine his name. He kisses sloppily along your neck and shoulder, sharp teeth pulling louder moans from you as he nibbles teasingly.He quickly sets you down and twirls you to face the wall, grinning against your throat when you press your ass back against him.

☆ "Darling," he huskily breathes out, beginning his kisses again. "You can stay quiet for me can't you? Unless you want someone to hear...?"

☆ He gives a particularly hard thrust at his words, making you bite your lip in an attempt to stay quiet. "I can be quiet.." you whimper softly as he briefly reaches up to grope at your chest under your shirt. You keen when he offers you praise -

☆ "Yeah.. I know you can," he groans, reaching down to rub his cock against your ass. "Always so good for me, baby..."

☆ He reaches around to slip his hands in your pants and palm between your legs in time with his thrusts. His fingers slide against you so easily with your arousal and rub slow small circles around where you’re most sensitive.

☆ "You're so messy for me honey, so wet. Is all this for me?" He growls, fingers slipping from your pants to reach two up to your lips. You accept him greedily, sucking his fingers into your mouth. Your eyes flutter shut as he presses down on your tongue, pressing further and further so you taste more of yourself.

☆ "That's it...my good baby." He coos, pumping his fingers in and out of your mouth, reveling in the desperate noises you make. You're both so lost in the pleasure of each other, more than ready to fuck in the very public hallway.

☆ Suddenly, a voice sounds behind you, "Ahem, I do believe some of that mess is for me.” An irritated sigh. “Truly Lucifer, I thought you had much more control. Since they would most certainly attempt to run from me, you were supposed to bring our partner to bed. Not dry hump them in the hallway like a couple of horny teenagers."

☆ You both are startled by the sudden voice, The fingers fingers quickly pulling from your mouth with a noisy sound as both of you turn towards it's direction. Lucifer's cheeks turn rosy in embarrassment, mouth opening to snap back with a snarky comment, but Alastor beats him to it-

☆ “Hah! I’m no longer in the mood for games, so let’s save the chit chat.” He points the end of his microphone at you before turning in the direction of your shared room. “Come along now, let’s finish what you started..”

☆Knowing what's to come, you stood frozen, even as Lucifer tries to pull you along. You look like a deer caught in headlights, eyes wide staring at the two in front of you.

☆"Don't keep us waiting." Alastor grits out as he continues onward, not even turning around.

☆Your mind starts racing as you feel your feet moving forward. You start to feel the heavy weight of your previous decisions, excited for and also dreading what's come.

☆ And in a moment of thrilled panic, you yank away from Lucifer, much to his suprise, and run like your life depends on it.

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #alastor #hazbin hotel alastor x reader #hazbin alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel alastor #lucifer x reader #hazbin lucifer #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel lucifer x reader #hotel hazbin lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel imagines #radioapple #radioapple x reader

330 notes · View notes

eepywriters · 11 months ago

Text

.✦°. • A kiss goodbye (*ﾟ∀ﾟ*)

warnings: suggestive 👀

If there was something you loved, it was lazing around in your big comfy bed, even more if there was a beautiful, sleep-deprived dark haired man next to you.

Unfortunately, today it wasn’t a lazy late morning.

“What time is it” Alex says with a hoarse voice, stretching his back lightly.

“Mhh I don’t care” you mumble sleepily, rutting your head onto his chest.

“Well I care” he mutters, gently running his fingers through your messed up bedhead hair. You feel him shuffle around before a whine of defeat leaves him “fuck its so late”.

You let out an annoyed sound, tightening your hold on him as to silently plead him to stay a little longer. You knew it wasn’t gonna change anything, the dedication to his work being way too strong for him to even consider wasting more time in bed, but it didn’t mean that you couldn’t try. He snorts at your weak attempt, leaving a sweet kiss on top of your head.

“Sorry baby, work calls” he sighs, sitting up with a groan whilst running his hands down his face, a deep exhausted moan leaving him as he tries to shove his sleepiness away.

You don’t find it in your heart to be mad at him, knowing how much he truly put his heart into his job, especially since the start of the Qsmp.

And really, being mad at him would be foolish, because throughout all the stress, the tight agenda and fucked up sleep schedule - you did scold him for that one, but that’s another story - he always made sure to find time for the both of you.

You smile fondly, head spinning as you also sit up on the bed.

“A goodbye kiss first?” you giggle, moving your head towards him.

He smiles, lowering down to meet your lips in a short, gentle, loving kiss.

But one wasn’t enough, not nearly enough.

“Another one” you whisper against his lips. He hums, chuckling softly whilst giving in into your wish.

And one turned into two, and two into three till you eventually lost count (not that you even care about it really, you just want to feel his lips on yours as much as possibile). You really, really couldn’t help it, warmth spreading in your chest every time you two connect again.

The kisses aren’t even special per se, they are mostly rushed and messy and mindless, yet God did it feel euphoric, almost like it was your first time kissing his pretty mouth, over and over again.

“(Name)” he breathes between the soft kisses “I really... need… to go”

“Last one” you whine softly when you separate, chasing after his chapped, but inviting puffy lips.

He really should’ve stopped you at the moment, seeing as he risked being late to an important online briefing, but he really couldn’t resist you. You were his weak spot, his kryptonite (plus he likes to see you desperate for him).

And how could he have ever say no to you, to your half-lidded, foggy, lovely eyes looking straight up at him, your hair still messy from your sleep.

“I’ll be sure to give you a good one then, no complaining after though” he murmurs, bringing one of his hands up to stroke your cheek. His thumb slowly makes it’s way to your lower lip, rubbing it gently, handling you like you’d break at any sudden movement.

Goosebumps travel up the back of your neck and down your spine as you watch him attentively, his enamored gaze enough to make your heart beat faster. How did you even pull him?

A faint cocky grin flashes on his face, eyes lowering to your mouth before he pulls you right back into him again, pinning his lips against yours.

It’s rough, hungry, yet passionate and full of love and devotion at the same time. You both can’t help but whimper when he deepens the kiss, firmly holding you against him by your nape.

His free hand sneaks around your middle, pushing you towards him to invite you to sit on his lap. You kick the blanket out of your way, shivering lightly at the loss of coverage but soon enough finding comfort in Alex’s body heat, enjoying the greater contact.

You can feel the blush creeping up your cheeks as you kiss him fervently, your chest constricting as time passes, begging you for air.

His hands carefully slip under your shirt, smoothing over the skin of your sides while yours go up his chest, arms hugging his neck.

You separate with a gasp, taking in as much oxygen as possible for your aching lungs. You expected Alex to run away, but he stays, pressing his forehead on yours and keeping you firmly against him. His own breath is ragged.

You slowly move back, just to have a good look at his state. God was he beautiful like this, panting for air with rosy cheek, his eyes still shut.

You let your impulsive thoughts win and leave a short peck on one of his moles. He smiles.

A mole after the other, a kiss after the other, you shower his face with kisses. You eventually forget your initial intention and leave them on every little inch of his face, mapping it out with short, affectionate pecks.

His temple, his forehead (you kiss his scar twice for good measure), his eyes, his nose, his cheeks.

Your eyes stop at his lips, eyeing them hungrily while a devious little thought makes it’s way into your fogged head. You leave one last tiny kiss on the corner of his mouth.

His mouth twitches in anticipation. Nothing comes.

He raises an eyebrow expectantly, but you don’t move.

Alex huffs.

His nails paint little half moons on your flesh as he impatiently captures your lips again, eliciting a small giggle from you. You felt drunk, or rather, you were drunk, on his lips, his reactions, his impatience, on him.

One of your hands slowly sneaks foward, now on his nape.

A little alarm sounds in Alex’s head, getting rid of the hazy, lustful smoke that was clouding his mind, as he realizes something; your hands are approaching dangerous territory: his hair.

Don’t get him wrong, Alex is having the time of his life with you on his lap, lips melded and moving together in tandem, but as much as he’d love to spend the rest of his life right here, tangled with you, he knows that the moment you’ll be playing with his hair he’ll be putty in your hands. He begrudgingly leaves your mouth with a shaky sigh, bringing his thumb on your lips again, this time to smear the tiny string of saliva between you across your red, swollen lips.

Your pants fill the quiet bedroom. Your chests heaving together.

“I’ll see you later” he says, swiftly getting up from the bed to prevent himself from getting too caught up with you.

“Yeah, yeah you definitely will” you snicker, biting your lips as you stare at his growing hard-on.

“Oh shut up”.

#quackity x reader #quackity imagine #quackity x y/n #quackity x you #quackity fanfic #qsmp x reader #quackity

850 notes · View notes

junedenim · 4 months ago

Text

everything is romantic

an island getaway

warnings: smut, fluffy fluff, blowjob, eating out, & the p goes in the v

word count: 6.6k

"Get off the computer!" Alex yelled from the other room.

"I'm not on my computer!" You yell back as you continue to type on your computer.

The air was hot in the rented house. Alex had spent the past 20 minutes trying to figure out how to turn on the AC that the lessor advertised the place as having but had remained to be found. You weren't supposed to be working. That had been part of the rules set but it felt like emails hardly qualified in that category. You could easily be getting an email from your mother so is there really a difference, even if you are answering an email from your boss?

"Get off the computer!" His voice was nearer this time, closer to the bedroom, but still in the hallway.

"Shush!" You sound back.

You hear his feet padding into the room and you don't try to hide what you're doing. You both knew what you were doing. "What do I see here? You're on your computer."

You momentarily pause to turn around in your chair to look at him. A trickle of sweat lines him, which doesn't help cool you down by any means. His hair is messed about meaning he definitely did not find the thermostat and was pulling his hair out over not finding the thermostat. "I'm just emailing Coco and then I'll be done." Coco, your insufferable boss. You didn't mind her, you quite liked her compared to previous bosses. Alex hated her guts. You might as well have been handcuffed to your laptop these past months.

"Why didn't you just ask Coco to come with us if you were going to email her the whole time?"

He's annoyed. You're a bit annoyed too but responding to an email is nothing, especially since you weren't planning to do anything today anyway. To Alex, doing nothing today was kind of the point.

You roll your eyes and turn back to the laptop. Alex moves closer, he leans his arms down onto the desk, trapping you in your seat. His mouth slides up against your ear. "No emails."

"Just this one. Okay?" You promise. Well, lie.

"I don't believe you." He kisses your neck. It's slow and teasing. He's messing with you—creating an itch that needs to be scratched. He itches his way down. "You're not even out of your airport clothes?" You're still dressed in jeans and even Alex has changed into shorts. He kisses your collarbone before reaching down to the ends of the white blouse you're wearing and pulling it up. Your arms block him from taking it off all the way but that doesn't prevent him from squeezing your bra-covered boob.

"Alex, come on," you urge.

His non-boob-squeezing hand reaches around you and shuts the laptop. "It's vacation time." You sigh and give in then. He pushed the cup of her left boob down and started playing with its nipple. It's a weakness. He fiddles with it. You often joke he is trying to turn the volume up by the way he turns it and by the way you moan louder from it. He mouths away at your neck, slowly, teasingly, skillfully going at it.

"Aren't you hot? I'm hot," Alex says. You quickly oblige to what he's hinting at and raise your arms for him to pull off your blouse all the way. He takes his shirt off too, something he probably would have done eventually because of the heat.

His chest has a sheen of sweat over it that makes you want to lick him. Is that crazy? To picture him as some human popsicle? He is what you need to quench your thirst. The cold beverage in this boiling bungalow. You both want to take a bite of him and watch him melt. You figure he's too tasty to be ignored, so you rush out of your chair and down onto your knees.

The perk of him changing out of his airport outfit and there is no need to work a belt off of him. You're quick in your unbuttoning of his blue Bermuda shorts. You don't bother to push down his shorts or underwear, instead electing to reach into his underwear to grab his cock. You're wrapping your hands around it when he quips, "I'll give you a job to do."

You start giggling at his penis before looking up to see him peering down at you with a chuckle. It makes you laugh more. You duck your head into his lower stomach to hide your laughter. It redistributes it into Alex's body, vibrating its way up his spine.

His fingers thread through your hair in a shared reassuring matter but also slightly urging you to attend to his hard dick, still in your hand. You lift your head and gaze up at him with a slight remaining giggle before kissing his tip slowly. The remaining smile you have turns him on more and with his hand still in your hair, he pushes the back of your head urging you forward more.

You accept his request and wrap your lips around his cock. You take all of him in, wetting his cock, so you can easily rub your hand up and down. You stare up at him. You like doing it when you're blowing him and he really likes it when you do it. Each time you place him in your mouth, his eyes flutter making you wetter with each blink. When he hits the back of your throat, your eyes close tight before you pop off of him, you open your eyes wide, and bat your lashes. Then, you do it all over again.

His hand tightens and releases around your hair several times with each moan that he can't help but utter. Alex is soft with you, not wanting to hurt you in any way. You gag around his cock and he pulls you off him and wordlessly bends down to kiss you.

He lays you down and follows you down onto the floor. The kisses get heavier as he lies on top of you. His hand grabs the side of your waist and yours are on the back of his head, keeping his lips on yours.

Alex's hand travels down your side to your right leg. He urges the leg up and you wrap it around his back, pulling him into you. His hard cock rubs against the rough denim material covering your center.

There's an urgency to this. Foreplay suffers in the need for completion on both of your ends. He unbuttons your jeans and begins to push them down. You break your kiss to help pull them off your legs, your panties following in tow. He lifts himself to pull them off your feet, turning the jeans inside out in the quickest rush to get them off.

You pull Alex back on top of you at the first sign your jeans are off. Your lips are back on each other like they are attacking one another. You curl your left hand around the back of his neck, toying with the ends of his hair.

He raises himself, halfway into a plank, and reaches down to line himself up. He enters slowly, just his tip, but you're in the need for haste. You curl your legs around his waist tightly and pull him close to you, therefore having him plunge deep.

The quick sensation has you slamming your hands onto his back, hugging him down onto you. Alex lets out a deep moan right next to your ear. He bucks into quick, understanding what you both want. You're tight around him and it feels like he is in another world, lost in the feeling of being in you.

He wasn't sure if it was you squeezing around him or the thought that you were on an island vacation that meant endless amounts of sex for a week. It wasn't a honeymoon, no matter how much your friends kept joking it was. There was a time, deep in childhood innocence, that you thought you would save yourself for marriage, mainly because boys were icky and if you had to do it at some point then your husband would probably be okay for that. You told him all this the first time you were together. Generally, it scared off men to know the women they picked up at a bar was talking about the sex that they would have on their wedding night, but it only endeared Alex to you. The cute way you had laid on your back, the white sheets tangled around you making you look like a bride. Your hair—short back then—scruffed up on the pillow. You talked with your hands, dancing them around the air, and telling a story with just them. Nothing was told in an expected way.

You had no plans to spend a life with the guy from a bar you hooked up with. Then, he told you about how during the summer before he started secondary school he used to hide under his covers reading encyclopedias because he was nervous he wouldn't be smart enough. He had a buzzcut and laid on his stomach when he talked. He had looked restless at the bar but peaceful beside you. His arms were tucked under his pillow but later on, after all the sex when you were just telling stories, he draped an arm over your stomach. Warmth, Alex had always brought that.

The sex you were having now. This was the sex you dreamt of losing your virginity on your wedding night too. So, if it had to be your "honeymoon" sex then it was well-suited. You felt weak under him, like a shaken leaf from his branches. It sounded vaguely misogynistic when he said it, like you were Eve coming from Adam's rib even though that didn't make much sense because didn't Adam have to have a mother? Don't all children come from their mother's ribs? Alex liked thoughts like this that you had. He called them "sex thoughts" because you'd whisper them to him after the act. Most men would be offended by the thought that the woman they were fucking had the ability to think about Biblical figures during sex. Alex saw it as inspiring you.

He thrust deep, hitting the ridge in the back of you. "Fuck," you muttered. You tended to do that too. The babbling during sex. Your eyes roll back when he hits it again, another "Fuck" drops from your lips.

Then, he's teasing, taking himself out to his tip and then slamming back into you. "Holy fuck." That was always a good sign.

Alex takes himself to the tip again. He holds himself there too long. You're whiny and desperate and reaching the end, orgasm in sight. You buck your hips up. It causes him to stumble, his elbows bend. His chest lands on you, suffocating you down. His cock deep, his heavy breathing and moans against your ear, his chest to your chest. You wrap your arms around him again and hold him to you.

You roll your hips up making him moan a "Fuck" of his own. He raises himself up again to thrust deep into you. You stick two fingers into his mouth, tasting of the strawberries you made him stop to pick up on your way to the house. You slink your hand down to the space between his stomach and yours. He could feel the curve of her knuckle moving against him as you touched herself. His pace is getting messier. A clear sign of the impending finish.

"Alex," you whine.

"Yeah," he responds. He knows you're close. You're getting messy too. Your hips keep shuffling around and he tries to pin you with his own to keep you straight. Then, he lets out, "Fuck. I—uh, god, fuck."

He manages to get in a few more pumps, feeling you clench up and squeeze around him before he finally allows himself to release into you. You would throw your head back if it wasn't rested against the floor. Alex buries his in the crook of your neck. Instinctively, you grab a hold of the back of his head, clutching his hair roughly.

He sinks deeply into you, out of breath, and tired from holding himself up the whole time. You love holding him back, but he's worried about squashing you to death. He pulls himself out of you and lies beside you. You're scattered toys on a child's playroom floor. You feel his cum leaking out of you, something you used to find gross, but now feels weird when he doesn't finish inside you. Sometimes, if it's his birthday or you're trying to cheer him up, you'll let him cum on your tits. He tells you he isn't sure if he enjoys it because you rarely do it or if he actually likes doing it.

"I didn't even take my bra off." One of your bra cups was pulled down, exposing your boob, and, on the other side, the strap was pulled down, barely hanging onto your body.

"I didn't even take my shorts off." His shorts lay in a tangled blue puddle around his ankles, his underwear hanging an inch off the rest.

"Well, you had a job to do." You both burst out laughing. The sun leaking through the windows feels nice.

Alex tied the knot in the back of your bikini. Why did he tie the knot in the back of your bikini? You're putting sunscreen on. The cream kind all over your arms. He's waiting for you to ask him to do your back. You already did his. Before he even stepped outside. He burns like a tomato and you seem to always get this golden tan that he will admit he'd be jealous of if you didn't look much better with it than he would.

You're talking about the email Coco sent you but he tends to tune out when Coco is mentioned these days and you're dressed in that white bikini. "Can you do my back?" Ding, ding, ding!

He must look like a lunatic the way he jumps up from his chair to grab the lotion bottle out of your hand. You're not oblivious. Alex has confessed to this turn-on of his when you first started dating and you went to some Malibu beach together. His slowness in rubbing the lotion in made you ask him what was taking so long and he had answered, "I'm savouring it."

Alex is savouring it now. He was bordering on giving you a massage, which you can't complain about as he gives special attention to your shoulders. Then, he's placing kisses on her shoulder.

"I'm not having sex on the beach with you, bunny." Another confessed fantasy.

He whines, "Come on. Isn't that the whole reason why we picked this house? There's nobody here." The house was only a few yards from the beach and you were nervous at night that the tide might sweep the house away. True, you hadn't seen a single person since sitting out on the beach. However, sex on the beach was reserved for cocktails only.

"I thought we picked it for the balconies." That was your fantasy. Too many readings and watchings of Romeo & Juliet. If Alex could climb the pipes up to the balcony, you would cream yourself.

Alex stops his sunscreen rubbing and turns into your eyeline. "No, honey, you picked it for the balconies. I picked it for a week of naked you. Indoor, outdoor, house, ocean, sand, I could go on."

You laugh and shake your head. "I am not having sex in the sand. I'll be finding it up there for months."

"I'll do a good job."

"I don't doubt you would."

You had generally been against public sex ever since one night, early on in dating Alex when you got caught in a club bathroom. Alex was spared any embarrassment, having all his clothes on. You had your bare chest exposed. It had generally been kept in houses since then. Although, you did seem to cover most surfaces. Bed, bedroom floor, kitchen counters, kitchen floor, shower, bathroom counters, you could go on. Never the bathroom floor though, maybe you'll do that here. The bathroom is pretty big.

Alex's shirts are your generally preferred vacation outfits. He wasn't much bigger than you but his shirts hung loose and were breezy in the summer air. They made good cover-ups for swimwear. This one, blue and white striped, was your favourite. You wore jean shorts with it and cheap sandals as you strolled into the little town just off the way of the beach.

"I'd like to grow old in a place like this," you say. It's quaint and foreign. A little seaboard town. A place where no one knew them. Alex's fame wasn't much of a problem. You adjusted easily to it once you found out the level of it. Something that had surprised him, though he never told you that. You were young but past the point where you were worrying about zits and fake IDs. Settling down felt far away and close at the same. If Alex wanted to, you would. As long as you got to pick where you lived.

Alex swings your hands in between you two. You both walk in short steps, taking in each piece of the town. You have a bounce in your step as you cheer about the town. "It seems like a place that would add 10 years onto your life," Alex adds. He had the thought that he was 10 years older than you. Does that mean he'd die first? He'd be fine with that. He thinks you have much more strength than him and could probably survive his death. If you were to die, he'd curl up into a ball in stay there. You'd probably grab martinis with friends after his funeral and he supports that.

"Fountain of youth. Although, isn't that supposed to be in Florida?" You wonder aloud.

"The fountain of youth is definitely not in Florida."

"Aren't I your fountain of youth?" You tease him. You did this often, teasing him over the age gap. It made him uncomfortable early on. Like he was taking advantage of you in some way. It made him feel particularly icky over a dinner where you had said, "Am I your sugar baby or something?" It was a joke but he was caught up in what you thought of him, what others thought of him. You had only been going out for a few weeks, not even officially dating yet. Then, when the check came around that night, you insisted on paying. Then, he felt ridiculous for ever taking your jokes as actual blows against him. They were more often than not just jokes about how old he was, which he could accept (most of the time).

No quip was returned before you dropped his hand and jumped up and down. "Ice cream!" Yeah, there might be a 10-year age difference but even Alex might jump up and down for ice cream. Well, ice cream with you licking the ice cream. He's horny first, human second.

Later, Alex and you sit in the ice cream parlour each equipped with an ice cream cone. The place has a singular small fan going, every 30 seconds you feel a slight gust of wind, which soothes your burning skin. "Ice cream is much better here than in America."

You had an impassioned hatred for America, which he never understood. You were American—well, mostly American—you had lived there your whole life—again mostly—your friends were America—again, again, mostly—you had met each other in America, fucked in America, fell in love in America, lived together in America, and, eventually, moved away from America. He thinks it has something to do with your mother.

He hums in agreement and settles at watching your tongue swish around the ice cream's tip, imagining scenes from earlier this morning. He is already biting into his cone.

Alex leans closer, up against your ear, whispering, "You want to go to the bathroom?"

You pull back to look him in the face, gifting him an eye roll. "I may be younger than you, Alex, but I was potty-trained."

His hand, resting on the curve of your waist, yanks you toward him. "There's no one in here. No one to walk in."

"Yeah, except the one employee who is going to notice his only two customers go into the bathroom together. We're 5 minutes from the house, if you want to go back and have me suck you off we can do that." The 15-year-old boy at the counter looked harmless and would likely be too afraid to prevent them from doing anything but he would concede that you had a point.

"You're so romantic."

"You're the one who wants me to do you in the bathroom."

He watches you in the pool. When you returned to the house, you didn't do each other. With the same enthusiasm that you had for the ice cream, you shed your clothing racing for the pool. Your shirt of his lay at his feet, disappointingly not leading to a naked you. He grabs a fresh towel for you and watches you splash around. Cheering for him to watch, here's my front flip, back flip, handstand, front flip into back flip into handstand.

He watches 5 minutes of this before it becomes repetitive and he turns to the book he brought out to read. The sun shines perfectly on his book and perfectly on you.

3 pages in something lands at his feet. A wet white bikini top. If this wet white bikini top is at his feet, then where is yours? His gaze moves slowly to the pool. You're acting oblivious, underwater, avoiding his eyes. When you come up, your back is to him. Turn around, turn around, turn around.

You're slow. You've always been a teaser. His breath is slow, hitched in his throat. He has made a point not to move, not wanting to distract himself with the flick of his own wrist.

Then, suddenly, you turn quickly, slingshot a bunch of white fabric flying toward him. Plop! At his feet again, your swim bottoms. By the time his eyes have lifted from the bunch of clothing, you've already dove back underwater. His eyes trail over the blurry curve of your skinny-dipping body. This is vacation.

You know what you're doing. You come up on the side closest to him, propping your arms up on the pool's edge. Your nude body is completely blocked. Your hair is sleeked back, giving him a detailed drawing of your face that he only quite gets when your hair is wet. Pet back in the shower, sleeked back in the pool.

"What are we having for dinner?" You smirk at him. A siren.

"Whatever you want." He can play along. Try his best to act uninterested despite the object hardening in his shorts.

"Do you want to eat out or in?" Your smile is a beam. A sight that happens often but not for more than a second before a burst of laughter. You've held it for 30 seconds now.

Alex looks down on his book. His eyes skim but he is pretty sure he can't even read the English language at this point. "Whatever you want." He prays for you to say in so they can order it, fuck, pay the delivery guy, fuck until the food is cold, reheat the food, fuck, eat, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

"I'm tired. Let's eat in. There should be takeaway menus in one of the kitchen drawers." You better not be tired.

"I'll go grab them after I finish this page." It should take about a decade for him to get through this page.

He hears a splash and looks up. You're back underwater, kicking your feet loudly. When you first got together, back during that rough buzzcut season of his life when he was in the perils of a near-mental breakdown and you were supposed to be a girl in a series of other girls until you weren't, Alex and you spent entire lifetimes out in his pool. You were relatively poor by comparison, sharing an apartment with 2 other people. No pool, no privacy. You joked with Alex sometimes that you'd never be together without those two things.

In those first few weeks, when the title of your relationship rested in the firmly sexual position, you'd do what you were doing now. The difference was Alex was usually in the pool with you, with equal nude-ship status. You fucked in the pool, multiple times. You fucked in the hot tub, multiple times. Now, he'd like to fuck in this pool or near it, he doesn't have to get wet, only you do.

"Water girl!" He yelled out. At the far end of the pool, you look behind your shoulder. The waves of the water shield any good view of your body. "Come here."

You push off the wall in his direction. Your hands wrap around the edge of the pool, hanging off of it. "Yes?"

"Come here." Alex gestures you out of the pool.

You bite your lip and sit your chin on the pool's edge. With a slight shake of your head, you say, "Too hot. Did you decide on dinner?"

"I didn't get the menus yet."

"Well, why don't you go do that?" You're manipulative and exploitative, dangling your body in front of him and snatching it away.

Thinking the dinner menus might get you out of the pool, he shuts the unread book, and heads to the kitchen. It takes him about 3 drawers to find the stack of menus tucked in the back. He thinks tomorrow you both should go to the grocery store a couple of streets down and he'll cook dinner. You're a rotten cook. You lived off fruit, McDonald's, and the kindness of friends before you met him. If there is any time he does feel like a sugar daddy is when he is servicing you with meals. You attempted to cook a meal together once and you had sliced your hand within the first 5 minutes.

When he turns around, a blur passes through the kitchen. He glances down at the puddles of water across the wood-paneled floor. He abandons the menus in favour of chasing that blur. You're easy to catch up to, you've made your way to the living room. Alex stands at the archway, blocking you in.

You stand, dripping, in the corner of the room. Your arms are covered over your boobs. Your legs are slightly crossed at your ankles. "What's your next move here, Turner?" You ask teasingly.

He stands back, trying to remain intact and undeterred. He crosses his arms. "I'm the one with the exit. You, my friend, are trapped in."

You bite your bottom lip and shake your head. "I'm the one with the advantage."

"How's that?"

"No clothes weighing me down and you are a man with the inability to focus on anything when boobs are present." You drop your arms to your side. Boobs with water droplets running down the sides and perky nipples staring at him.

Yes, he totally does get distracted by the boobs for a split second, but he is determined to stay resolute. He dashes across the room, eliciting a squeal from you before he even comes close to you. He reaches out trying to grab your slippery limbs.

You're both laughing messes when he manages to curl an arm around your waist. Alex's stumbling and your weight makes you fall onto the couch. You scream. "We can't get the couch wet!"

His back lands on the couch preventing you from soaking the couch. Your wet hair lands in Alex's mouth as he says, "You want to do it on the floor again?"

"Can't we ever just do it in a bed?" His tight grip on you doesn't allow you to stand up, still stacked on top of him, despite your wriggling.

"Not when you're running around wet and naked."

You're able to wriggle out of his grip and sit beside his lounging body on the couch. She smirks. "Why don't you hurry up and take your clothes off then?"

He shoves his shorts off pretty quickly after that command. With little hesitation, you straddle him, sinking onto him. That divine stretch has you unleashing a moan. He shivers from the chill you bring. You engulf him completely and lean down, scattering light kisses down his neck.

You sit up, lifting yourself slowly and then dropping down quickly, similar to the way he slams into you when he's in control. You grind on him, back and forth, making him let out a growly moan.

You place your hands on his upper chest. Your movements quicken and he places his hands lightly on your waist. He squeezes your skin when he moans. The sex itself is blurry like you running through the kitchen and his chase for his orgasm is short, already worked up from your teasing. Riding him often leads to a quickie.

"Where do you wanna cum, huh?" You're sneering and flirty taunting smirk.

His eyes widen from their previous tightly shut state. "You're gonna let me cum on your tits?"

She nods. "Just don't get it in my hair." You say this every time. He never has but you still have this great fear of a drop getting into your hair.

After a few more bounces of friction, heat, skin-to-skin, and whimpering gasps, Alex urges you off of him. You promptly go down to your knees on the floor. Alex swings his legs onto the floor and reaches his climax too quick to stand up. A couple of pumps and ropes land on your chest. His aim is still on point. He throws his head back, resting it on the couch. You run your hand up his inner thigh in both a teasing and soothing manner.

A beat passes before you stand up and peck his cheek. He blindly touches your elbow with a soft touch, trying to urge you to lie back down on top of him, chest-to-chest.

You disconnect from him. "I'm gonna order dinner now!" He's completely spent and you're energetically scurrying back over to the kitchen. At least, he can admire your back as you leave. And your ass, he doesn't appreciate your cute little butt enough.

You've got his shirt on again, except now there's no bra underneath. The first few buttons have been left open allowing him to see that sacred curve. The two of you sit, eating at a little table on the patio that overlooks the ocean. Your hair has grown lighter in the sun, bouncing rays off of it. It's messily dried from its former wet state, making it look like a light aura surrounds you.

"I'm going to bring out the bottle of wine," you announce, rising from your chair. It doesn't help matters that you're only wearing your underwear underneath the linen fabric.

His dressed state isn't much different than yours. His own loose-fitted, casually unbuttoned shirt. His sunglasses covering his eyes. That chain of his catching the sun. His hair was fluffy, always fluffy. You started calling him bunny after his hair had grown back. The way it flops around now reminds you of a bunny's ear.

You returned with the bottle, refilling the glasses you had been nursing. Alex had lit a cigarette while you were inside the house, the smoke exhaling from his lips in a spin that made you feel a lustful dizz.

You pluck the cig from in between his fingers, taking a drag of your own. He felt guilt that he had gotten you into the habit but you used to be one of those annoying people who carried around a vape and constantly hit it (god, he sounded old). He guesses taking a couple of drags of his cigarettes beats the damage that would have done.

You stick out your hand toward the setting sun, tracing the horizon as the cigarette billows smoke from it. "I wish we had this view all the time." The sky was a blue fading into a purple disappearing into a pinkish orange. It felt like a painting before you.

"Yeah, me too," he says. Your eyes dash over to look at him. His sunglasses are off and his eyes are on you. His irises looked honey-coloured with the way the remaining golden light hit them.

You give him a crooked smile. "You get me all the time," you point out.

"Not as much as I want," he wishes. He lifts his hand and motions to you. "Come here."

You giggle. "Me or the cigarette?"

He chuckles. "Both of you."

You hand the cigarette over and he takes it away from you and grabs your hand. You stand up, pick up your wine, and follow the tug from that hand. You land on his lap and his arm, once holding your hand, curls around you.

You sit peacefully watching the sunset. Alex takes slow puffs of his smoke and you wrap your arms loosely around his neck and rest your head on his chest. The air is quiet. You don't think you've ever been in a place this quiet, the only sound being Alex's heart beating against your ear.

He drops the cigarette into the ashtray. With his newly freed hand, he runs it down your sternum into the shirt's opening. He goes up the hill and holds the soft skin of your left boob. "You feeling me up already?" You question.

You admire his profile. You think people should chisel statues out of it. Like David or atop Mount Rushmore. He's more good-looking than any dead president or Biblical king. His head shifts over to you, not able to fully look at you due to your head being on his shoulder. "Just keeping it there for warmth," he whispers. You giggle and tilt your head to kiss his jaw softly.

He doesn't make any moves to move things further, instead, he just sits there with you watching the setting sun.

You're in bed when he gets out of the shower—still, dressed in that shirt and that underwear. Good. Easy access. You've brought your computer to bed though, which doesn't help matters. He tries to mask a groan at the thought you're emailing Coco.

You turn your laptop around showing a map. "I was thinking tomorrow we could go for a hike. There's a little trail a short drive away."

Hike? You want to hike? Your athletic activity had generally been limited to sex and playing mermaid in the pool. When he met you he was probably at his fittest and you joked that he was a gym rat with a particular focus on the rat part. You'd be in the middle of sex, riding him, his hands would be on your waist, guiding you, and you would reach down and wrap your hand around his biceps. He had smirked thinking a compliment was coming when you jabbed, "Are you on steroids?"

It had all been jokes. You liked working out. Well, you liked watching him work out. Sweaty and spent looked good on him, not on you. You're happy to play cheerleader.

"Sure," he agreed, slipping on boxers. You rapidly clapped your hands delightedly, pulling the computer back onto your lap.

Alex turned the overhead light off and the room was dark beside your bedside lamp and the glow of your laptop. You had left the window open a crack, the ocean breeze drifting in, making the curtains blow around.

He carefully crawled into bed beside you. He is almost certain his back got sunburned, despite the copious amounts of lotion you applied to it, multiple times. He looks over at your screen, no longer on a map, but emailing Coco. "Come on, no work!"

"I saved it for the end of the evening," you reason.

"If you're going to email on vacation they should have given you paid leave." You conceded he had a point. But you were still going to finish this email.

You type away and Alex disappears under the covers. Suddenly, you feel a kiss on your ankle. You suppose you were too distracted to notice him inch his way down to the foot of the bed. "Alex," you say in an attempt to deter him, even though you don't really want to deter him.

He kisses the side of the knee, creeping up closer and closer and closer. Then, your inner thigh. You shake with anticipation at his next move, but he stops there. He kisses the same space again. Then, your other thigh. "Alex," you say more as a plea than your prior attempt.

He seems to give a little then, kissing your center over your underwear. He's delicate with it. A soft kiss, slowly making his way up your cunt. Your toes curl in wanting and waiting. He dances around your clit. "Alex."

He slides your panties over to the side, kissing your clit directly making you moan. "You're wet," Alex notes. His voice is muffled under the sheets. "You're emailing Coco while you're this wet. Is there something I should know?"

You roll your eyes. You're eager. You went down on him today, you rode him today, you let him cum on your tits. Usually, Alex is better than you in the pleasing department. You're selfish and he worships pussy. "You should know that I want you to get on with it."

"Close the laptop." A haggler. You give and shut the laptop, placing it on your bedside table.

You lift the covers off his head to reveal his grinning face. "Your turn, Turner."

"Good one," he says and then he's sucking on your clit and you're clutching the bedsheets. His tongue showing your clit special attention tonight. You tug on the sheets and to prevent them from ripping, you switch to rooting them in his hair.

He starts humming against you, which vibrates through you. You would hate that he knows your body so well if he wasn't so good at pleasing it. He licks down and his tongue pokes at your entrance. His nose hits your clit, another thing that has you moaning. You wish you could fuck his nose. It's a weird thought but it makes sense when it hits your clit. You buck up into his face. It makes him smirk but he doesn’t let up. Only quickens.

Alex starts strongly fucking you with his tongue. You think he should worry about hair loss considering how hard you're yanking his hair. He hugs your thighs, pushing against your hips that keep rutting relentlessly.

It's easy for him to tell that an orgasm is on the horizon. Your legs start to shake and you're moaning, "Fuck, Alex, fuck." Your favourite expletive. You bring your legs to the back of his neck, crossing them, keeping him locked into your cunt. He doesn't let up for a moment, even if you weren't there pushing him down, he wouldn't let up.

Your back arches up and you're gasping and moaning and he might cream his own underwear from the whole thing. You squeeze him to you tightly and he doesn't let up, leading him to overstimulation. "Alex, no more. Too raw."

Alex doesn't stop but turns soft. Little kisses around your clit that causes random rutting of your hips into his face. He fixes your panties, covering your cunt back up. He gives a kiss to the tiny bow on the top of your underwear. A little pink thing in the middle of the lace. He starts to kiss your body but you just feel utterly spent. You stop him when he attempts to unbutton your shirt. You tell him, "Too tired. We'll fuck tomorrow."

He kisses your belly button, then your shirt-covered boob, then your cheek, before rolling over to his side of the bed onto his back. You adjust your pillow and turn to lay on your stomach next to him. "I'll wake you up with a blowjob or something."

Alex grins. "A blowjob wake-up? You know how to please, woman." His hand snakes down your back and squeezes your ass. He toys with the lining of your underwear but makes no attempts to move it. "You've got a cute little butt, you know."

#alex turner #alex turner x fem!reader #alex turner x reader #alex turner x oc #alex turner fic #alex turner smut #alex turner x you #alex turner x y/n #junedenim

152 notes · View notes

ayyy-pee · 6 months ago

Note

hii lexi!!! hope you’re doing well :)) would you be interested in writing a suguru first date kinda thing? i thought it might be cute ^_^ (also i love your pfp!! it looks so good!)

AHHH THANK YOU NONNIE! <3 I'm so late, but I imagine Suguru would be exactly like this for a first date when he's really into reader lmaooo it's short but i'm trying to flex my brain with little drabbles. i appreciate you sending this request in! i hope you like it! <3

𝐹𝐼𝑅𝒮𝒯 𝒟𝒜𝒯𝐸

Discord 18+ - Twitter

Pairing: Suguru Geto x Female Reader

Warnings: Cutiepie sweetie face nervous Suguru Geto!, downbad Suguru, Gojo being an annoying shithead, fluff and cuteness <3

It's so hot here.

Is it hot in here?

Has to be. Or else Suguru wouldn't be sweating so much. He can’t even hold his drink, the damn glass keeps slipping from his hands.

Maybe it’s the lights making his palms so moist?

Are the lights too bright? Too hot?

Was this restaurant the right choice? If it’s making him this uncomfortable, surely you’ll be uncomfortable, too.

Maybe he should have chosen another place. Do you even like Italian? Fuck, he should have asked you before making a reservation. What if you’re allergic to…pasta or like…tomatoes? He didn’t even think about that. Maybe it's not too late to change plans.

The soft buzz in Suguru’s pocket pulls him from his scrambled thoughts, and he takes his phone out to see a text sitting at the top of his notifications.

Beauty: Pulling up now. See you soon :) <3

Fuck! It's too late to change plans!

Okay. Okay, this is fine. It will be fine! He’s got this. What’s there to be nervous about? Nothing, because Suguru doesn’t get nervous. He asked you out, anyway. Not the other way around! There’s no reason he should be reduced to this clammy, sticky mess he’s become.

And yet, it seems that’s all Suguru ever is when he’s in your presence. Although, it’s only been one other time.

It's been an entire week since Suguru first laid eyes on you coming down the aisle at his best friend's wedding. You would have thought he was the one getting married, the way his face grew red watching you smile, so stunning in that gown the bride had picked for you. The way his heart practically tried to punch its way through his ribcage when you’d graced him with a glance, aiming your beauty right at him. How you watched, teary eyed as your very best friend married his very best friend and it’s so insane of him, he knows. But Suguru thought he could see himself in this exact position one day…with you. And he didn’t even know your name.

It's so cliche, truly; a groomsman and a bridesmaid getting together at a wedding? It’s a romcom waiting to happen, but Suguru couldn't help himself.

You were the epitome of beauty. Your eyes, your lips, your smile, everything about you. They were all things Suguru could not get out of his head after you'd danced with him at the reception. With that cheesy love ballad playing way too loudly, you slipped perfectly into his embrace, like the missing piece of a puzzle, and he had to get to know you.

"Fuck your honeymoon," he'd told Satoru, rolling his eyes as his best friend panned his camera across the beautiful powdery sands of Turks and Caicos. “Can you ask your wife for her number?”

“Hmm…” Satoru flipped the phone back around and Suguru could see him pretending to think about it, tapping his chin just to irritate Suguru. “Beg me.”

“...Excuse me?”

“Beg…me…”

That stupid grin on that long limbed bastard’s face. If Suguru could, he’d reach through the phone and smack it right off of him. Why would he beg for your number? He’d get connected with you some other way. Suguru is not a beggar. Nothing in this world could make him open his mouth and plead for something.

“No.”

“Then I’m not asking. Good luck finding her! Gorgeous girl. Hope she doesn’t find someone else because there were quite a few people asking about her at the wedding…”

Suguru knows what he’s doing. And he fixes his friend with a deadpan stare as he says, “Nice try. Not begging.”

And Satoru chuckles. “Okay! See you in three weeks!” He sings on the other end.

“Wait!”

And so Suguru…begged for your number. Not his proudest moment, but as he sees you slip through the doors of the restaurant, grinning and waving excitedly when you spot him…well, it makes every bit of groveling worth it. He just saw you exactly one week ago. A full 7 days. 168 hours. 10,080 minutes. And you look just as breathtaking, if possible.

This feeling is familiar, the heat radiating from his cheeks and the intense pounding of his heart and this sensation to get on his knees before you and offer you the world.

“Hi,” you greet him, out of breath as you approach.

Suguru stands quickly, stealthily wiping his damp palms on his pants. And it’s a little awkward at first, but you hug him, slipping into his hold like you just…belong there. It’s driving him insane, the way you just seem to fit him so perfectly.

You take your seat on the other side of the booth, all smiles and god, if it doesn’t send Suguru spiraling. You’re just so cute. You almost seem as excited to be here with him as he is to be here with you.

“I meant to get your number at the wedding, but honestly, I was just too nervous to ask.” You confess, giggling, a bubbly and airy sound that makes Suguru want to hear it more, maybe set it as his ringtone then piss Satoru off so he’ll blow his phone up. Then Suguru can hear it over and over.

He chuckles, smoothing his hands over his pants again, trying his damndest to stop the sweating. “Yeah?”

You nod, picking up the menu and gracing him with a sweet, shy smile before hiding behind the sheet of paper. “Yeah, so I’m really happy you called.”

Suguru’s heart races and he can’t help the goofy grin that’s now formed on his lips as he picks up his menu. “Me too.”

180 notes · View notes

poppy-metal · 5 months ago

Note

poppyyyyy i’m gonna cry not the thing i sent you being turned into an au and i have no more ideas for it 😭😭 this is hell. all i have to offer is this ( https://pin.it/4XElozLiD ) is nepo brats wedding dress in my head and it was one of those ones that’s shot by vogue and like sponsored by harry winston and they have a breakfast at tiffany’s themed rehearsal dinner like just a massive networking event essentially that she only agreed to bc she REALLY wanted artashi to see and react and bust down her door to beg for her back. also love the idea of a shitty marriage, i imagine it’s like when blair got married in gossip girl and she thought everything was perfect (on the outside at least) and then when they had their first dance he essentially was like “play your fucking part and this will be so much easier for you” and she was like oooooh shit what did i do 😐 called tashi in tears and she charters her a plane and lets her stay at their penthouse for a few days…..i wanna sit on their couch in a big gown with tears streaming down my face and have them take care of me even tho they’re pissed :( doesn’t mean they wanna see me hurt this badly :( need to try to apologize through sobs and have art say we’ll talk about this in the morning as tashi brushes hair off my forehead and pauses like she’s gonna kiss it :(

OR you could have her freeze up after he pops her little perfect marriage delusion and have her go along with it for months, maybe there’s a fan account that follows your every move that tashi checks daily on a burner. she notices the dwindling amount of times you’re seen with friends, essentially the only time you’re seen now is with that man by your side. over the months your personality snuffs out entirely, looking to him before you speak, smiling along to whatever he says. people make jokes about how your PR team finally broke you. one day art is standing in the corner of their living room, face twisted up, doesn’t look up when tashi makes an inquisitive sound. walks over to her and turns his phone around to show her a photo of you walking hand in hand with your husband into a restaurant, faint bruises up your arm, hair covering your eye intentionally. she stares at the phone with no reaction. finishes getting ready to go, says she forgot something as they get in their car and runs upstairs and barely makes it to the bathroom before she throws up. you’ve changed assistants by now but she finds their information within the hour, loosely threatens them with telling her where you’ll be for the rest of the day, rolls her eyes hard when she hears a “they” instead of “you”. doesn’t change anything she has planned. she makes a call to her legal team after hanging up with your assistant because there’s no way your husband will let you out of this without a fight, one that she’s prepared to hold your hand through the entire way. she shoots her husband a text and lets him know to get the guest bedroom ready.

AUR.

i think..... both can happen. you run to tashi as soon as the wedding is over - still in your dress, though its ripped in places - show up on her doorstep because you know the code to the gate - shivering in the cold and when the door opens tashi is looks so soft. like she'd just gotten ready for bed. hair a little damp and curling at the ends. a pale peach robe tied around her waist. she's beautiful.

she doesn't look happy to see you. "what are you doing here?" said so coldly. like you're not welcome. and why would you be? its so different to face her anger through miles and miles of distance. all you've wanted for months was for her to just - notice you. give you attention. you'd even say sorry, take the blame, take every word back, if she'd asked. but she's looking at you like you're an annoying reporter. a nuisance shown up at her door.

you break down in tears. full body sobs that have you kneeling at her door, at her feet, head in your hands as you shake with all your bottled up emotions. "i messed up." you choke - "i - i - i - its all wrong - tashi - "

you can't speak through your tears, heaving through wet flem in your throat. she'd have every right to toss you out. you wondered how pitiful you looked right now, crumpled like this. still in your wedding dress. your new husband probably buried in some other woman for the night. he wouldn't miss you. you didn't want to go to your new home with him.

you feel warmth at your elbows. tashi's hands, cupping you. "come on." her tone isn't warm, but its lost its chill. she tugs you up. "come in - you'll get fucking pneumonia out here."

she brings you in - one hand at the small of your back to guide you. you sniffle. look around. her home still looks the same. familiar. you're brought to their big expansive kitchen - where art had been scrolling through his phone in sweats and a simple cotton shirt - finishing off a bowl of fruit - when you come into view his fork pauses in the bowl. his expression is completely unreadable. but its not very welcoming.

he looks at tashi, dismissing you. you try not to flinch.

"what's this about?"

tashi leaves you at the kitchen island to open the fridge. she fishes out a bottle of water and brings it over to you. "drink this." she tells you. to art she simply shrugs. "dont know." and she looks at you. "what's this about?"

you struggle to open the bottle. your hands trembling. after a few failed attempts art rolls his eyes, yanks the water from you and opens it with one twist of his wrist around the cap. quick and easy. he slides it back over to you and looks at you blankly.

under both their stares you feel the weight of all the months between you. all the shit you talked about them on social media. the things you'd said.... your bottom lip wobbles. eyes filling with tears. "im sorry." you say, softly. you cant think of what else to say. "im - im sorry for coming - i- ill go."

tashi reaches out. you're startled by how strong her grip is on your arm. her nails almost dig into your flesh. you welcome the sting. a show of emotion. even if its anger. her claws coming out.

"no." she snaps. "you dont get to show up here after the shitshow you've made of this year - in your fucking wedding dress - sniveling like some sort of damsel at our home and then just leave." she points to a stool. "sit. explain why you came."

her tone leaves no room for argument. you find your ass in the stool before you even realize you'd made the conscious decision to move there. like a doll on her strings. it'd always been easy to take her orders.

you try to explain but you're pitiful at it. you keep crying when you bring up your husband - the way he'd treated you. how trapped you feel. how you came here because - despite everything, this was your safe space - you'd never seen it any differently. and you knew, no matter what, tashi would answer the door when she saw it was you on the other side.

they're quiet after that. art works his jaw like hes rolling thoughts around in his head, but his distrust is obvious. you know if he'd been the one to see you at the door, he'd have never answered. that knowledge hurts deeply - to know he's completely detached himself from you. that you'd lost him. his care and his love.

you wondered if you'd be thrown out regardless but tashi rubs at her temple. suddenly looking very worn out and tired. "this is a fucking mess." she says and your stomach twists. you were always complicating things for them. being a burden. she drops her hand. looks down at you like you're a puzzle with a few pieces missing.

you guys are the missing piece, you think.

"you can stay the night." she finally settles on, shares a look with art who looks like he wants to say something about that but she silences him. "we'll talk more about this in the morning. you need..... you need to get out of that god awful dress. and too sleep."

art watches tashi guide you to their guest room with a frown. he doesn't like this. tashi is such a strong front on the outside, but she was alot more vulnerable than people realized. and you'd really hurt her. you'd hurt both of them, but arts feelings..... they didn't matter here. at least, not to him. he could shove down the heartbreak and the anger and the betrayal and everything else he felt about you to make room for the world of hurt tashi was going through. he had to be strong for her. and you being here - showing back up - pouring salt in an open wound - god. you were such a selfish fucking brat. always had been. he used to find it endearing. now he just wanted to throttle you.

in the guest room - tashi helps you out of the dress. her knuckles skim down your spine when she unzips you. kneeling down to help you out of your heels. you hiss when she turns your foot - assessing the blisters. "jesus." she huffs. stands and gets you some of her things to wear. a soft tank top and some shorts. arts boxers, actually. you flush when you put them on, under tashi's watchful gaze. she points to the bed when you're done, a silent command.

you sink down onto the comforter. bite your lip when she comes back into the room with a jar of ointment for your feet. "here -" she sits next to you, and a waft of her scent hits your nose. sophisticated and clean. she props your foot on her lap as she gently rubs the cream into the abused skin. you swallow, as you watch her. this gentleness. you'd missed it.

all your life you'd been 'taken care of' but only in the most clinical of ways. you had all the money you could want, maids to pamper you if you wanted, but it was nothing compared to being...... treated like a human. being cared for by someone who actually cares about you intimately.

"stop doing that." tashi says. she doesn't look up from her work.

"doing what?"

"looking at me like that." she tells you. she finishes and cups the lid back on the jar, and she looks at you. brown eyes.... sad. "we're not - " she breathes. shakes her head. "you can't look at me like that."

you scoot closer to her on the bed. she doesn't move away. "its the way I've always looked at you." you tell her.

she glances at you. glances down where your - her - shirt has slipped off your shoulder and its bare. so close to her mouth. she'd pressed alot of kisses there. left alot of marks.

"things have changed." she tells you. "you know that - you're responsible for it."

you place a hand on her thigh, just under her robe. lean in. "i know and im sorry." you slip to the floor then, on your knees before her. "i didn't mean any of it." you tell her, looking up at her. "i miss you, tashi. i miss art. i miss - us. i - i want you back."

tashi looks down at you. her hand comes out and she catches a strand of your hair between her fingers. rubs it. "you're married."

"I'll leave him."

her eyebrows jump. "you've been a very bad girl to me and my husband."

the way she says it.... bad girl. familiar warmth pools between your legs.

"i know." you whisper. "and im sorry." you lean more forward, and her legs slide open - her robe inching up her thighs. she watches you. heat in her eyes. she still wants you. yes. "let me make it up to you - to you both - i will - you know i can."

she studies you for some time. then she parts her legs wider. "show me, then. show me how sorry you are."

you dont have to be told twice - ducking your head down - diving between her soft thighs - you moan when you discover she's not wearing any panties. your mouth finding her pussy already wet and slick.

more wet than usual - but when you pull back - her hand comes down - tangles in your hair to keep you pressed against her bare cunt. you look up and meet her eyes as you allow your tongue to investigate - "that's it." she purrs. "you know what to do with that tongue -"

you gasp when you part her folds - a warm flood of salty fluid pouring into your mouth. a zap goes through your body at the realization.

arts cum.

she sees you realize it and bites her bottom lip. rocks herself into your face. "he's been so pent up lately." she tells you, hooks one of her long legs over your shoulder. "and its your fault - so -"

her nails dig into your scalp - "clean it up."

you do. whimpering into her pussy as you tongue the remaints of her husbands cum, scooping it into your mouth and swallowing greedily. you missed his taste so much. you wish he was here, pushing you into her pussy. slipping a hand down your shorts to pet through your wet slit. he'd make you eat every last drop before he sank a finger inside.

when everything is gone, tashi adjusts her grip. using you now. rubbing her clit against your nose and working her hips against your mouth exactly how she likes it. "fuck." she pants. she looks down at you and both her hands cup your cheeks. her thumbs rub into the skin. "pretty girl -" she breathes, and you whine, "this is what - fuck - what your mouth should be doing - instead of running off online -"

her grip turns vicious - her movements more forceful. properly fucking your face with her pussy. you just lay your tongue out and take it.

"you're such a goddamm brat." she hisses and her clit pulses as she starts to cum. "but - god, i missed you. yes -"

you lap up everything she gives you. eagerly. her hands carding through your hair as she comes down. she sits up, detaching your lips from between her legs and you look at eachother, lost in a moment together.

her fingers trace your wet mouth. and you part your lips for her instantly. looking up at her like shes a goddess - because she is. she strokes across your tongue with her fingers. your eyes flutter as you start to suck around the digits. mouth blessedly full. you bob your head up and down them, taking her past the knuckle.

your teeth catch on her wedding band and her breath hitches when you swirl your tongue around it. her mouth parted in wonder - like she cant believe you're really here again.

this is where you should be. always. at either her or arts feet. taking some part of them inside you. its what you're meant for. not money and wealth and jewelry but this. this, this, this.

tashi pulls her fingers back suddenly. her ring clicks against the back of your teeth.

her face shudders. closes off.

"that -" she licks her lips. "that shouldn't have happened." she stands, and you fall back on your ass. look up at her dumbfounded.

"tashi -"

"a mistake." she retightens the sash around her waist. rubs a hand down her face. looks down at you. winces. "don't cry."

but how can you not?

"but we just.... you said -"

"do you really think head is enough of an apology?" she tells you, and that tone is back. the cold one. she crosses her arms. "god, you've dragged my name through the mud. the damage you've done to arts career - we had to take a break, did you know that? he missed matches that could have changed his life. all of that, on hold, because you decided to throw a tantrum because what -" she laughs. "- you couldn't handle a break up? grow up."

she shakes her head. lips pressed tightly together. she cant look at you. if she sees your watery eyes she'll fold again. take you into her arms and forgert the past year entirely. fall back into bed with you and make you cum over and over until you were nothing but the shaking mess she missed seeing. god, she'd just cheated on art. fantastic.

"I'll help you get a divorce if thats what you want." she tells you, already walking away. "but after that? we're done. for good, this time."

the click of the door sounds like a bullet in your ears. you stay kneeled on the floor for a long, long time.

and the next morning - when tashi goes to wake you up. she finds the room empty but a note left on the bed. she almost doesn't want to read it. art is in the kitchen - making breakfast for four. because as mad as he pretends to be for her sake, he still thinks about you. cares about you. misses you as much as she does. it'll break him to learn about what she'd let happen - but only because he didn't get a chance to feel you one last time himself.

tashi was really the selfish one.

she picked up the note. read it.

i want you to know meeting you in that coffee shop was the best thing to ever happen to me. I'm a spoiled rotten brat, i know. but you taught me to be more. you let me into your life. gave me another person to love in art, and you both took care of me and treated me better than i deserved. im truly sorry for how things ended. and im sorry for how i acted after. i was hurt. i thought you didn't care about me. that maybe you never did. and i lashed out. im sorry. im taking back all my statements in an interview next week. i hope it can restore some of the damage I've done to you and art. you're two of the most wonderful people I've ever met. and im lucky to have fallen in love with both of you. im not divorcing my husband. i think maybe i can try to make it work. you dont need to worry about me, either of you, you've done enough of that. I'll be fine. love - your tinkerbell.

the note flutters to the ground limply. art calls that breakfast is ready.

tashi isn't hungry.

#ask #champagne problems au #HAHAMWAHAHAHAHHAAHAHHAHAA #MWAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAA #tashi duncan x reader #art donaldson x reader

132 notes · View notes

notes-of-nari · 2 months ago

Text

Stray Kids as the Friendly Ghost

Seungmin The apartment that was advertised apparently came with its own furniture and it was pretty cheap! what a great deal in this economy??

So you go to see the apartment and a mysterious person who claims to be the former owner shows you around. He asks you several questions and seems to be pleased with your answers as he hands you over the apartment keys and swiftly leaves. Strange...but anyways.. You move in

you wake up one day to find someone had sticked a note on your wall asking you to clean up after you have finished cooking and eating.

"What the hell" is your first rection. But your house is indeed a whole mess so you continue cleaning up. And only after it is done you sit down to ponder who on earth hanged the notice. you are sure that either there's a trespasser in your house or a ghost.

the ghost though shows himself only weeks later after you had drunkenly vomited on his "favourite" carpet.

he actually takes care of you though and even gives you a hangover soup the next morning.

lectures you a bit on how he expects you to take care of the house. Like keeping it clean,neat and tidy.

your time with him mostly consists of a comfortable silence as you continue with your homework or hobbies and he either flicks through the television channel or books, or just disappears for days, probably visiting his ghost friends.

Is extremely annoyed with the TV series couple's stupid decisions so he just changes the channel while muttering something.

Just loves to burst out with a random "seungmin in the building" at the most unexpected times.

Purposely scares you at times.

one day you find out that he too hates the landlord of the building. ending up with you two bonding over a spilling tea about the landlord and planning pranks on the landlord session.

You both end up being the land lord and the neighbors worst nightmare as you both play pranks on them. I mean what's the point of having a ghost friend if you cant use his ghost powers to be a total menace in the neighbourhood? MUHAHAHAHAHA

Finds out that you listen to day6 and is happy

You find out his baseball cards and pictures of him with his baseball uniform. You ask him about it but he gives you the cold shoulder for a while

Finds humor on the fact that you keep on struggling when trying to make a decision.

Sees you decide against doing something and doing it anyway. "Well well this house is blessed with only one brain cell, and even that belongs to a dude who is long dead" he comments while shaking his head in a disappointed manner.

Is intrigued with the true crime documentaries that you watch.

After the baseball card incident you try every way possible to apologize to him but he seems to avoid you. Until he randomly comments that the sky was pretty. When you ask him why he was avoiding you for so long he says that he wasn't angry with you and just avoided you because he * felt like it *

One day the two of you attempt to cook. but don't ask me how...you nearly burn the apartment down

He is pretty honest that It hurts at times. but again you feel like it's alright when he smiles at you and hands you over an ice cream he had brought from the convenience store closeby.Sometimes you wonder if it is right to approve his actions.Cause he is literally stealing stuff from the convenience store. But you decide to let it go when he reveals that he actually leaves money at the counter You have no idea where he gets money from. Like how can a ghost get money? But this dude is just mysterious and seems to have his own methods and ways.

One of the older ladies in your neighbourhood once decides to have a little chat with you. And when she learns which apartment you are in she gasps in horror before saying that the apartment is known to house a notorious ghost and even asks you to leave as soon as possible. While the women begins spewing various stories of the ghosts supposed evil paranormal activities, seungmin sits right next to her while chuckling.

I.N ver Hyunjin ver BangChan ver Lee Know version Jisung version Changbin version Felix version

71 notes · View notes

theminecraftbee · 1 year ago

Text

Grian comes to again, flat on his back, and groans. Distantly, he hears Scar yelling an apology. It’s hard to tell if Scar had accidentally dropped sand, accidentally kicked one of the dragon eggs currently littering their bases (causing it to fall), or had missed concrete somewhere and caused that to drop, but the apology, this time, was at least sincere, so he’s fairly certain Scar didn’t intentionally knock Grian out. Doesn’t mean Grian hadn’t been knocked on his ass by, what, a pavlovian reaction to sand? But it means Scar hadn’t been intentionally exploiting it.

He’s rubbing his head when he hears them chittering distantly. He looks up, and then he Looks up, just to make sure he’s not imagining it, and… yep, they’re there. The Watchers. They’re busy happily chittering about the fact that Grian passes out when any block falls to the ground. Of course they are. He wonders if this is their fault. Probably not; Watchers may be annoying, but they can’t see the future, so it’s not like they’d have known about the egg thing ahead of time. No, they’re probably just amused at his suffering.

Joke’s on them. This is mostly just going to make cleaning up slower. And they’re going to have to deal with that too, on account of the fact Grian can’t do much else until it’s done.

He’s trying to hit another egg with a piston when he hears, distantly, “shoot, the beach!”, realizes what has happened, and then he’s waking up on the ground again. He stares at the sky for a moment.

“Trust Scar with sand, I thought. He terraforms all the time, I thought. He won’t keep messing me up with it, I thought.” He groans.

The chittering of the Watchers gets louder. He hears a lot of ‘Scar’ and ‘sand’ and ‘he can’t bear it’ and. Great. Grian’s pretty sure he knows what comment is coming next—

you’ve never left that desert.

“So this is your fault!” he says, accusingly. “Why! All it’s done is make my life more confusing!”

Indistinct noises. At one point, when Grian had been more one of them than he is now, he had been able to tell all of the voices apart easily. Now, the Watchers are somewhere between the wall of incomprehensible, horrible sound that they are to mortals and normal voices. He has to strain to pick out anything overly specific. He supposes if he chose to go all Watcher again he’d be able to tell what they’re saying, but frankly, they’re all annoying, so why would he bother? Better to stick to things as they are.

He messages Scar: If you drop sand one more time I am going to figure out how to add more dragon eggs to your base.

Scar messages back: its an accideet

Grian responds one more time: lol. accideet.

He takes a moment before standing up to check around himself. Scar does seem to have moved on from whatever he’d been doing with terraforming to keep dropping gravity blocks, so it’s probably safe to stand without passing out again. What had he been doing? Right. Eggs. Piston.

you never left that desert, Grian hears again from the wall of noise.

“Right. That’s me. Never left,” Grian says. Honestly.

can’t stand the sight of scar and sand.

“You know you guys are reaching, right?” Grian says.

never left—

“I would if you’d let me!” snaps Grian.

Indistinct chittering. Deep breaths. He’s fine. He's apparently developed sand-based epilepsy or something, and is trying to find the solution to that, but. Fine. He’s fine. It’s not like arguing with Watchers is ever actually worth it. They never change their mind. The thing is that they tend to think they know exactly how he works, and no matter how much he tries to refute their baseless assumptions, they still have a picture in their head, and they still keep working off of it.

A strange shudder runs down his back.

you never left that desert.

“Look, it’s not that I’m not over it,” Grian says. “I’m actually pretty over it. I’ve been over it since Last Life, really, even if none of you believe me.” He puts another egg in his inventory. “Scar’s my friend and he’s a weird guy and I like him, but it’s not like I’m not over that stupid game. Wouldn’t keep playing it if I weren’t over it, would I?”

Indistinct chittering about tragedy and deserts and dramatic final suicides and, look, Grian is good at telling stories. That’s the whole point. That’s why these guys won’t leave him alone. But sometimes, he swears…

“So you know, I would have left the desert by now. It’s just that you all haven’t. So guess who’s still stuck here? Believe me, it’s not me who’s not over it. If you wanted me out of the desert, you could let me leave any time you’d l—”

He has a second’s warning before he’s on the ground, dizzy, hoping he hasn’t gotten a concussion. He glances down at his communicator.

Mumbo says: that was me this time my bad

Shakily, Grian types: you have 10 seconds. start running.

The chittering gets more distant. Grian gets up. He checks to make sure his wings are on. He goes to light a rocket, but not before shouting: “Scar, if you do anything with gravity blocks while I am actively flying I will kill you dead!”

“Have fun buddy!” Scar shouts back. Grian’s not sure Scar actually heard a word he said. Well, hopefully there will be no sand falling from his hands while he goes to murder Mumbo, then. If there is, Grian’s—well, Grian’s going to have a broken bone at that rate, but he’s recovered from far worse falls. Some of those have even been Scar’s fault, by some measure or another.

He Looks back up at the mass he knows are the Watchers. “If this is you all’s fault because you never seem to have gotten over the whole desert thing, I’ll find a way to, I don’t know. Inconvenience you greatly. Not sure what I’ll do, but I’ll figure it out.”

The chittering gets way more fond, then. Pleased. They want him to do that. Can’t even threaten the assholes properly, they like it. Honestly, Grian doesn’t know why he bothers. It’s not like they’ll listen. No matter how many times he says he’s over it, it’s not like they’ll listen.

(Sometimes, he hates that he’s so good at stories.)

Right then. Time to wreak havoc on his friends for exploiting his very exploitable weakness, then. This sword’s got sharpness on it, right?

------

(originally written for @hermitcraftguesstheauthorevent, and posted on ao3 here; now that it's revealed, i figured i'd go ahead and post it here, since it really matches the cadence of one of my tumblr things more than an ao3-only fic. enjoy!)

#hermitcraft #grian #the watchers #desert duo #KIND OF? i think this COUNTS?#a bee fic #anyway guess the author was cool! thank you so much <3 #wrote this like immediately after the falling sand stuff came out as a musing on some of the ways people were talking abotu it #you know how it is. sometimes you've gotta metacommentary.

602 notes · View notes

kindasleepywriter · 11 months ago

Text

The way to a droid's heart (Cal Kestis x BountyHunter!Reader)

Based on this wonderful request. Always open to hearing more ideas!

Summary: Cal demonstrates what happens to those who mess with you. Warnings: Implied and explicit threats, that's about it Word count: 2.9k

In all the years you’d known him, you’d never understood how Cal Kestis was still alive. When you had met him 6 years ago, you’d been just as idealistic and adventure-seeking as he was. The years that followed, however, had changed you and shaped you for survival. Dreams didn’t get you very far, not in the galaxy like this one.

You’d quickly lost hope of ever becoming a fighter pilot when you’d realized the few rebel cells were dropping like flies, all at the Empire’s hand. One lone pilot wouldn’t make a difference out there, you’d concluded, and from that moment you’d just tried not to end up as space rubble like your parents. You’d ended up as a bounty hunter instead, a damned-good one, and you took what joy you could while chasing bounties all over space.

Cal, on the other hand, never seemed to lose his ambition of defeating the Empire. Not that he’d ever told you that’s what he was doing, of course, but only a space slug could’ve been so blind as to not see it. He wasn’t exactly being subtle, making no effort to conceal the weapon at his side and giving his real name to anyone who might have asked. His ever-growing collection of scars didn’t portray him as a man who sat around waiting for change, either.

Perhaps you’d ask about them, one day.

You watched from the far end of a bar you’d never tried learning the name of, as a stoned-faced Pantoran you didn’t recognize spoke with Cal. You couldn’t quite hear their conversation but, with the way BD-1 had whizzed in boredom for a good 10 minutes before scurrying off to scan whatever he could find, you could deduce they weren’t exactly talking about their latest game of holo-chess.

You turned back to your drink, flipping up your hood and shaking your head softly at the man’s persistence. On the move, as always.

You were starting to come to terms with the fact that your contact wouldn’t be showing up. You’d already sighed watching your watch more times than you could count, annoyed at the inconvenience of flying so far into the outer rim for nothing. It had been a pain negotiating your meeting too, the contact insisting on you being alone with no weapons. You’d eventually faked giving in, choosing to keep your rifle and pistol on board your currently broken down S40K and instead hiding vibro-blades inside your boots.

The ship was already on its last legs when you got it, the only reason why you’d been able to pay, but the years had caught up with it in the last two months. You spent almost all of your money on maintaining it in the air, and you were running out of funds fast. The anticipated need to buy another cheap but more reliable hunk of metal was what had caused you to pick up another bounty only a few days after your last.

Normally, you liked to spread out jobs over a few weeks to enjoy the credits you made, but the sputtering of your engines when you’d crash landed into this city’s landing dock had made clear you couldn’t afford the luxury this time.

You were nearing the bottom of your drink, trying to plan a way off this planet without mounting any more personal debts to anyone, when you felt a small nudge at your right foot. You looked down, expecting to see some rodent or pest trying to eat through your sole, but were instead met with a little red and white hyperactive droid.

You scanned the room quickly to make sure no one was looking, and stretched a hand in his direction so he could haul himself up onto the cushioned booth. He didn’t hesitate to scramble up your arm, emitting a few whizzes and beeps of thanks on the way.

“Hey, beedee,” you greeted him flatly. “Thought I finally managed to evade your scans this time; guess I was wrong.”

A low whistle and a trill.

“I know, I know, you see everything. It’s hard to forget when you always choose to remind me at least twenty times every time you find me.”

He emitted a series of approving noises, and you rolled your eyes at his cockiness. Where he’d gotten that attitude wasn’t a great mystery. He jumped on one foot, nudging at your coat’s pockets with the other, his eyes going in and out of focus audibly as he searched for god-knows-what.

You tsked. “Will you stop that!” you chided and swatted him away like you would a cat. “Yes, I brought you something from my last job, stop assaulting me for a minute and let me find the damn thing. And you better not tell your dad, I’m not letting him think I’m a softie just because I keep entertaining your crow tendencies.”

Suddenly the picture of good manners, the droid sat and wiggled his legs as he sent you a sweet melody. Manipulative little shit, you thought affectionately. He was annoying as could be, but the little guy was cute.

You fished out a shiny piece of silver metal from your breast pocket. You had made sure not to lose the small leaf-shaped brooch, the perfect gift for BD-1. Your last bounty had necessitated infiltrating an Imperial event, and you’d found the piece while snooping through an officer’s desk. You’d never been so happy to have preemptively messed with the camera feeds.

The droid whistled in excitement and bathed your hand in a green light. You tried and failed to fight the smile that braced your lips as you watched him dance around your palm. He scanned the object from every angle he could find.

Too focused on his reaction, you failed to notice the individual looking over your shoulder until his shadow dimmed the wall you were facing. Too late to react properly, you shut your hand as quick as you could and turned to look at the man. Kin Fobam. Another bounty hunter, a Pau’an, one that always found a new way to piss you off. Today would apparently be no exception. BD beeped in annoyance at your movement before noticing you had company.

“Well, well. It would seem our little bounty hunter has a penchant for jewels after all.” the man sneered at you.

You rolled your eyes and did your best not to flinch at the lack of personal space, his two-meter height trapping you without much breathing room. You could smell the alcohol he had consumed, but you didn’t need it to know he was intoxicated. At this time of night, he always was. You were already almost pressed to the wall of your booth with only enough space to keep BD behind you, so you stood your ground and straightened up as best you could. You kept the droid in place as he spat angry threats at Kin, unwilling to let him make the situation worse.

“Kin, don’t you know women love shiny things?” you mocked with an arched brow, “Maybe if you’d known that earlier, that lovely Iridonian wouldn’t have spat at you again for your advances last week. How’s your attempt at courting her going, by the way?”

You subtly held the metal pin in pinched fingers behind your back as his white face somehow turned even paler in anger, desperately hoping BD-1 would understand what you were trying to tell him. You almost sighed in relief when you felt him swiftly slide it out of your hands into his stim container.

Kin moved even closer to you, forcing you to lean over BD in a desperate attempt to gain some personal space. Your free hand instinctively reached for your hip but only found the weathered leather of your empty holster. Shit, you’d left your guns on the ship! You didn’t have the space to reach for your blades either, so you had no choice but to do it the old way.

You tensed, ready to headbutt the towering Pau’an out of your space, but you stilled when you felt cold metal brush against your skin in the small gap where your shirt and pants met. A blaster. Fuck. This is why you never left without a firearm.

“I wonder, if that piece of metal is worth so much to someone like you,” he growled, “then maybe you’d accept payment in other forms… as thanks for sparing your life today, hm?”

You cringed at the implication of his words but took a steadying breath. You’d insulted this guy in more ways than you could count over the years and you knew he could pull that trigger without a second thought, but you’d fought bounties that were bigger, angrier, and certainly more skilled. He wasn’t the first to try and extort sexual favors from you, nor would he be the last.

Your brain spun in circles, trying to come up with a plan that didn’t involve blaster fire passing through your right kidney and BD-1 in one fell swoop. You didn’t have to think for long, though.

Before you could make a move, a blinding orange light flashed between you and Kin, floating just underneath his chin. You could feel the heat from where you were, could imagine the pain its power wielded. The way the man’s white flesh turned pink at its proximity didn’t go unnoticed.

“How about I gift her with the loss of your life as an apology for letting her endure your dirty ass, Kin?” a smooth voice drawled, the speaker invisible to you with your still-focusing eyes, but you didn’t need to see him to know who it was. As if the lightsaber wasn’t already enough to identify him, but you’d know that voice anywhere too. You weren’t the only one, if the cheering beeps you heard behind you were any indications.

A smirk braced your features as the Pau’an gritted his sharp teeth, hesitating a second before raising his hands in a defeated manner. He demonstratively holstered his pistol to make sure his head wasn’t cut off at the movement and he slowly stepped back a few feet away. The lightsaber didn’t stray a single millimeter from him. His brows pinched in anger, and he looked expectantly towards you. “It was just a little bit of fun, right?” he said as he hissed in pain. “Nothing to get upset about.”

You chuckled at the attempt. “I don’t know, I’m thinking your head on a platter sounds pretty great right about now. Maybe I can find someone out here who’d enjoy some barbecued Pau’an. What do you think, Cal?”

Your heart skipped a beat when your gaze met amused grey eyes over Kin’s hunched shoulders. He winked at you, and you couldn’t help but bite your lower lip.

“I’m pretty sure that violates too many health codes,” he said, “you know, quality standards and such.”

BD whistled in agreement, scampering up onto your back and nudging the side of your head when you got up to lean against the side of your table.

“Too bad,” you sighed, crossing your arms, “maybe it could’ve bought me some new earrings.”

Cal laughed loudly, warmth spreading through your chest at the lovely sound before he closed a hand on the sweaty neck before him and brought his blade even closer to his chin. “The next time you even come within 20 feet of her,” he stated casually, loudly enough for the entire bar to hear and turn the heads of the few who weren’t already watching, “you won’t live long enough to say ‘womp rat’. Are we clear?”

Well, if your heart hadn’t been beating fast before, it sure was now. Never had a threat sounded so attractive before. You diverted your gaze. Get a grip, you reprimanded yourself.

BD-1 only encouraged him, a crackling sound buzzing entirely too close to your ear for your liking. When did he get a taser? You didn’t even want to know what he used it for, finding trouble with his new gadgets was a special talent of his.

Kin, now wide eyed, muttered an affirmative and a long line of fearful apologies, eager to escape the Jedi. Cal flicked off his saber and forcefully shoved him away. The Pau’an bolted out the door of the bar, running for his life, and you couldn’t help but laugh at his fear. BD reprimanded Cal for acting so late, beeps and squeals echoing through the room after the patrons returned to their usual business, but the red-haired man was only focused on you. Your skin heated at the attention.

“I could’ve dealt with him myself.”

He gave you a wide smile and stepped closer, no Pau’an separating you anymore. “Oh, I know. Wasn’t this much more fun though?”

The corner of your lips twitched, and you shrugged, softly shaking your head at his ever-lasting upbeat attitude. You uncrossed your arms, placing them behind you on the rusty table to comfortably lean back. “Still could’ve knocked him out faster without alerting every possible person of a Jedi’s presence here.”

“Give me a break,” he said almost sheepishly, reaching up a hand to scratch the back of his neck, “is a guy not allowed to show off to a pretty girl every once in a while?”

Your breath hitched on a single breath, caught off-guard. Sure, the two of you joked around all the time, but he’d never gone so far as to straight up flirt with you. You tried not to react, probably failing miserably at doing so.

“Smooth.”

He threw his head back in laughter, his reddened freckled cheeks showing more embarrassment that he let on. “I try.”

“Next time,” you said, striding past him, “if you really want to show off, perhaps you shouldn’t wait until there’s a blaster pointed at me before making your move.” You had no idea how you kept your voice steady, and you couldn’t help but hear the rare softness of it. You were thankful that he couldn’t see how wide of a smile you currently wore.

He jogged to catch up, keeping pace with you as you headed for the docking bay. “I’ll keep that in mind” he chuckled.

You glanced back at the bar over your shoulder, and BD started emitting alarm noises from your other side, indignant at still being ignored. You patted his head, quieting him for a moment. “Where did your informant go?” you asked Cal. “Wouldn’t want to hinder your next side quest.”

“That was anything but a quest,” he said, “Just a boring old trade. Wouldn’t be so boring if you were there, though.”

A loud whistle of approval sounded above your shoulder.

“Hey, calm it, up there!” you exclaimed, using another opportunity to escape from answering. “I’ve only got two eardrums, let’s not break one of them.”

BD whistled again at a lower volume, followed by a barely audible series of sounds.

“Yeah, weak organics my ass,” you muttered. “We’ll talk about how great being a droid is the next time you bend your antennas and come running to me.”

Cal’s soft laugh caught your attention once more. He was watching you both with such a fond smile... Your heart squeezed at how soft he looked, for once not rushing towards something and instead enjoying the moment.

As you neared your ship, small tendrils of smoke still escaping the upper vents, he looked at his watch when it suddenly started beeping, and he made a face. “I’d love to hear the rest of your arguing, but we have to go. A revolution doesn’t fund itself.” he said. He looked up at the droid sitting on your shoulders. “Yes, beedee, that means you. Hop on.”

Cal held out an arm, BD begrudgingly taking his usual spot on his shoulders, spitting menacing sparks at the jedi along the way. The latter looked towards you with a flicker of hope as he stepped backwards towards the back of the hangar where the Mantis stood. “Can I convince you to join me this time? Still got an extra bunk if you want.”

“I don’t think you want me and beedee on the same ship 24/7, Cal. Anyways, I’ve told you before, I can’t just discard my old one.”

He stared at your smoking Hawk-Class before he turned to you unimpressed. “That thing can’t even fly.”

“It can! I just need to fix the cooling mechanism and-”

“And the hull, the reactors, the hyperdrive, the-” he continued, amused at your stubbornness.

“Okay, okay,” you scoffed, “you’ve made your point. Might as well drop it here, I guess. I could hitch a ride, if you’re heading towards the inner rim, but I’ve got approximately nothing to give in payment for the fuel.”

BD startled you with a burst of binary, so fast you couldn’t hear him. Cal looked at you sharply.

“You’ve been giftinghim things?” he exclaimed.

“You utter snitch, beedee!”

The droid whistled at you disapprovingly and loudly shot the brooch from his stim compartment right into Cal’s hands.

“I can’t believe you,” you continued, “the one thing I told you-”

You fell right back into your argument with the droid.

Cal tilted his head back in loud laughter and threw an arm around your shoulders as you whisper-yelled at BD-1, leading you towards the Mantis. “We’re going to have so much fun.”

Getting side-tracked by BD1? In my supposedly Cal-centered fic? It's more likely than you think.

This was pre-realtionship like my last Cal fic because tbh i have trouble setting up the change from friends to lovers without writing a whole novel, but I have some ideas roaming around my head I'd like to write. We'll see how that turns out!

Tell me what you think, and check out my masterlist!

#Cal kestis x reader #cal kestis #cal kestis x you #jedi survivor #jedi fallen order #jedi video games #star wars jedi #star wars #fanfic #star wars fanfiction #star wars fanfic

328 notes · View notes