#cats i love you so bad it makes me want to cry and i'm not even joking
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mysticalcats · 6 days ago
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cats the musical
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guidingthulite · 9 months ago
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the fun part about me finally watching yokai gakuen is that when i watched the movie like 3 years ago i joked about jinpei having comphet but guys. i don't think it's a joke anymore
#'the cat has comphet' i say into the mic. the crowd boos me#'i don't know what a comphet is but if it's food i definitely had it at the cafeteria!' standing up. jinpei jiba himself#what do i think about this show now that i'm finally watching it. it's complicated#IT'S EITHER REALLY GOOD OR REALLY BAD. THE ONRYO'S BACKSTORIES ARE REALLY SAD AND I LIKE THEM A LOT#BUT IF I HAVE TO SIT THROUGH ANOTHER CRINGY EPISODE I WILL CRY TILL I RUN OUT OF WATER#goromi is the character ever though. a rude ass cat with a gun. genuinely like her a lot#'but alma you talked about jinpei's backstory and you expressed an attachment to raimu! what do you mean you finally watching it!'#i don't. i don't remember why but i watched the first two eps and i couldn't find the rest so i decided the best course of action was#to watch the last two ones. why? i don't know. lord emma was there. wasn't he ema? i didn't know anything#i mean... i wouldn't have anyway the eps weren't subbed anyway i just saw raimu and went 'i jam with this dude!'#and became inexplicably attached. the catboy romance ever...?#as for jinpei's comphet i just. he said 'i'm into older women!' and i was like 'oh that's not a crush he just has mommy issues'#AND THEN IT TURNS OUT HIS MOM DIED...#he also didn't care at all when fubuki said emma liked him in the movie. he was fully focused on the fact that she became a snake#his uh. love plans (?) for enra are also rather tame. compare with kyubi who i wanna whack in the head with a bat#am i taking this too seriously. yeah probably. but jinpei dressed up as freddy mercury once. that has to mean something#also wild boy is a lesbian. technically that doesn't make any sense but like. the vibes. what are yokai heroes anyways?#are they them? are they a fusion like in dragon ball or steven universe? then why kengo benimaru? he's not like jinpei or bakera AT ALL#this show is so confusing i want out i want out i want out i wa-
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dilf-docs · 2 months ago
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My Baby's Fit Like A Daydream
husband!pedro pascal x younger!reader
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summary: your relationship is finally out to the world. now, pedro and you will explore what it feels like to have your love out in the open.
warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap, smut, FLUFF, the empire of bad humor strikes again, hurt/comfort bc all roads lead back to angst, a brief mention of bodyshaming, this is lowkey pwp my bad, dirty talk, fingering, p. in v., bathroom sex ijbol, exhibition kink (they be fucking everywhere but in a bed), degradation kink (he calls her a slut twice), the one and only creampie (twice), so naturally: breeding kink, ALSO pls stop the husband!pedro reqs, i beg. a delulu girl can only take so much 💔
word count: 10,991 words
side note: not one but two requests to be fullfilled! this is as a sequel to call it what you want. also, spam time: i happen to write in wattpad as well, and i have a pedro pascal social media fic going on :) but it's on spanish tho. if u speak the language and would like to tune in, read it here AND spam again but speaking of the ptwt dynamic, why don't we become moots? check my (new) stan twitter account here (i had one in 2022 that i had since 2016 but entered a crisis and deleted it lol)
part: prev | masterlist | next
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The news had spread like wildfire.
As soon as you hit the red carpet, hand on hand, rings finally on display―shining under the spotlight, your phone had been blowing up nonstop: every show, podcast, tabloid, news outlet and social media had been talking about it. California had turn into an easter egg playground; everyone was eager to know it all.
(They had found the church where you married, the dress boutique, jewelry shop where Pedro bought the rings―the employees ratted him out, even sharing pictures of the moment, your husband posing with them without knowing of the future treason. They too had found the place where the reception took place, and even the name of the priest who had married you, but he refused to give the hungry press any details. God Bless)
In short, it had been a hell of a week. You figured dissapearing for a while was for the best, but with some interviews still left, that option had been discarded. Still, doesn't mean you couldn't retreat for a couple of days to the tranquility of your home while it was time to show up again. Well, as peaceful as it could get, since reporters were camping near your house and roaming around Hollywood Hills like vultures; the neighbour's nagging was just another layer of problems in your shit cake.
"I'm sorry, Louis. Walks will be postponed for a while" you talk to your cat, but the lazy bastard just stretches and lays down again. "Yeah, I can see you're affected. Don't cry"
"It's not the cat's fault" Pedro emerges from behind, "don't take it out on him"
He takes a sit next to you, two mugs in hand. He gives you the one with a chocolate steam, a souvenir he bought when you visited your home country last summer. You wonder if that's a trip you'll ever be able to make again.
"I'm not. Just- It's horrible that I can't even go outside my own house and walk the same roads I've walked in four years because the press is hidden with cameras in, I don't know, bushes!" you exclaim, quiet rage carried within your words. "It's unfair, really. All I want is to walk my damn cat without a flash up my ass"
Pedro nestles his face in your neck, nose carressing the skin. Giggles leave your lips, the sensation ticklish.
"It'll pass. It always does" he says, voice assuring, probably because he's used to the violation of privacy, but you're not. Getting bigger, is this the price to pay for making a name for yourself and claiming out loud who you love?
"I hope so" you murmur above the quietness of your home, a sound as eerie as fake, devoid of it's tranquil nature as a world of invasion awaits outside.
"Do you trust me?" Pedro speaks, voice unwavering. He holds your gaze, steady brown challening your shaky orbs.
"I do" you speak up, yet you wish you could believe it. You believe in him, there's no question to that, but do you believe in yourself? That the love you'd put out to the world would be treated with the same care and respect you have treated it in secret? For a fleating moment, you miss the secrecy.
"Then trust me this will be over sooner than expected" he presses a kiss to your lips, soft and sweet, feeling remanents of chocolate he licks away, as you mockingly yell ¡Qué sucio! but it's devoid of malice. "In time, this will become another anecdote we'll share with our kids, and laugh with our grandkids when we get older"
You smile, feeling tears in the corner of your eyes. Oh, doesn't he turn you into a pathetic sappy wife?
"Well" you sniffle, giggling to push back the tears away. "About the old part..."
He playfully kicks your side. "Uno ya no puede ser romántico, que le salen con estas cosas. Your generation could use some respect, you know?" (one can't simply be romantic anymore)
Pedro gets up, picking the mug from your hands as both rings brush together, the gold shinning under the morning Californian sun.
"And your generation could take a joke" you quip, lips curled up like you hadn't in weeks.
"Very funny, y/n. Thought you loved me" but then he's pressing a kiss to your temple like kissing you once isn't enough, promising to return after washing down the mugs.
"I do!" you shout to his dissapearing broad frame as he enters the kitchen, and he playfully makes a dissmissing move with his palm.
The laughing dies when your phone chimes next to you.
You shouldn't really, but the curiosity that draws you in is as intense as a magnet. The phone burns on its position, screaming for you to open it, despite being told by your husband that the best was choice was to ignore it until the buzz had died down, but you're afraid the turmoil isn't nowhere to be finished. Comments can be mean, he'd said, they can hurt you. Pedro said he'd learn with time to ignore it, but he was experienced. You weren't, so naturally, as your husband and protector, he wanted to shield you from the pain.
Although, both of your fandoms had been pretty supportive of your relationship, some user even claiming to suspect it, making threads full of easter eggs and connections that validated the theory which was now a reality. I've connected the dots, followed by pictures of you sharing wardrobe, slips on interviews, similar backgrounds in your posts across social media, and of course, the two Gladiator Ii interviews. Many resorted to making edits or screaming over your pictures in the premiere, demanding for more content you had yet caved in to share (there was a gigantic carpet of evidence sitting heavy in your cloud).
So, in a way, this support made it hard for you to truly dimension the hate Pedro warned you about: all you saw was fans being happy and showering you with love, making paparazzi to be the only problem as for now.
That's it.
You cave in, turning the phone on as you bite your lip, searching first your Instagram: a bunch of new followers, many with variations of ispunk on their usernames, as well as a swarm of comments on your recent posts. There's a small voice in your head telling you to turn away, but your thumb moves without thinking, clicking on pictures of the red carpet―a carrousel of you and then a picture of you both at the end, one fans had been gushing about the last couple of days, rings on display, practically up their noses. You were smiling, and Pedro was looking at you fondly, his other hand holding Lux but his gaze never leaving yours; he was too perfect to be real―yours.
You unconsciously smile at the captured moment, love obvious on your faces, so you open the comments, thinking it would be the same support or love radiating of the comment.
But boy, weren't you wrong?
It was all the same, support lost between waves of hate. Variations of bodyshaming, age shaming and even gold digger claims were on full display across the comment section. "She's ugly" "In it for the money, am I right?" "I thought Pedro had better taste, lol" "She got the role in Gladiator II because of nepotism. Or cocksucking" and then a cruel answer that read "Right, threesome with Ridley. Ew, what a whore!"
Worst of it all, some even had Pedro profile pictures, or usernames and accounts dedicated to him.
Your heart was beating like crazy, chest heavy and hollow, face red with emotions you couldn't quite place (embarrasment? fear? rage? sadness?) as you kept searching across Twitter*, doing a quick skim of the trendings that included you. The same hate speech pattern was all over the timeline, some betting for divorce in a couple of years (even months!), while others took their time dissecting your looks and relationship. As if they knew. Long gone were the edits and harmless threads: the hate wave was here to stay. Some where even being a bit racist, the irony of it all, being Pedro himself was latino and didn't shy away from it, rather proud as he didn't miss an opportunity to shot out his dear Chile. Or any social issue, as a matter of fact, very vocal on his political beliefs.
This was fucking ridiculous, and if the cameras were an issue, this swarm of negativity is what really took a toll on you, the flashes as you went grocery shopping now barely a scratch. No, this was worst. All you wanted to do was cuddle in a blanket while wearing one of Pedro's shirts and dissappear. Too much noise. Too much hate. You can feel it creeping up your body, tainting your soft curves, wrinkles, acne scars and face. It's like rough hands, tugging harsh, ripping your vocals because you can't scream; no words to express this pain.
You knew one day it would come, but never imagined the hurt and to what extent people were capable of. Cruelty. Dissecting your life and body like it was a show for them to be entertained: your marriage was a circus and your body a joke.
It hurt their condescending dismiss of your love, questioning as if the gap were only numbers and not a pillar of your relationship that made you and Pedro closer, despite the bridge in age. You were reduced to a middle-age crisis, and he to a filthy man pinning for a younger girl. Your body was turn apart, despite no real flaws existing. Humans are meant to be so, not perfect, but real, and that was the problem: you had turn into an object―a target for their dards to pierce through.
Your body shakes violently with cries, deafening your ears that you don't hear when Pedro walks in.
"Why are you crying?" he rushes to your side, panic on his voice. "What happened? Are you hurt?"
You barely manage to shake your head, and then his eyes scan all over your features, until they land on the phone on your hands. The worry turns to anger as he asks:
"You looked at them, didn't you?"
He isn't yelling, but it would be better if he did. This contained fury, fading into dissapointment, as if you were a naive child scolded by their parents makes you feels small and stupid, as if you knew no better.
"I'm sorry-" you manage to choke out among tears, "I know you told me-"
"I told you" he interrupts, words laced with wrath, "so this wouldn't happen. See what happens?"
"Why are you talking to me like it's my fault?" you yell, and Pedro sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose in irritation. "I didn't ask to receive all this! Do I deserve the death threats, shame and hate?"
He walks past you, and it's like a slap to your face. Was he going to behave like this? Didn't it matter how you felt, or was it something childish that could be brush to the side like nothing? Insecurities you hadn't even think of come crashing down on you, doubts creeping up and attacking you from all sides. It's horrible. You try to hold onto the good memories, praying you don't loose him. You can't. You just can't.
"Answer!" you demand, tears spilling like a broke dam.
"I was just closing the windows. Or do you want to fuel the talk, huh? Give the hungry hoard more to bite?" Pedro then stands to hold your gaze, and you hate that you can't place his emotions. Anxiety corrodes your brain: was this really the beginning of the end?
"Do I?" you dare to speak up, and even if its loud, it comes out drowned, the exhaustion from the emotional turmoil taking its toll on you. "Do I deserve it?"
"No, you don't, carajo!" Pedro bursts. "You don't deserve any of that, which is why I didn't want you looking at those things!"
He sighs, realizing the anger is misdirected.
"I'm sorry"
Your broken wails are the only thing to be heard. He hates himself for being a part of it, even if not the biggest.
"No, I'm sorry for being so stupid" you sob. "I-I just wanted for people to be as happy for us as I am with you"
"Come here" but he's the one cutting the space to embrace you.
His scent calms a part of you, body still rocking with violent shakes.
"You're not stupid. Nor ugly, or any of those things people are calling you. No, mi amor. You're beautiful, smart and talent. They fail to realize I'm the lucky one. So please, don't be hard on yourself, yeah? I can't bear to see it. Less if I know it's not true. You didn't ask for it; you don't deserve all that bullshit"
He presses a kiss to your temple, arms that hug you tighter holding you close close up to the point his heartbeat melts within your own.
I won't let you go. You won't fall as long as I got you.
"We'll get through this, yeah? Think of the future, and what's to come. It's hard, that I know, but let us enjoy the moment. Life is too precious to waste it away" he brushes stray tears with his thumb, softly and full of love that words aren't enough to express. "I'm here" the out loud, "and I'm not going anywhere. That's a promise"
Later that day, Pedro posts a carrousel of unseens, even one of your wedding (a video of your first dance), telling people to leave you alone. That he loves you, and that no malicious news, fans or comments will ever change that―suck it energy laced within his rageful statement.
Safe to say, in the next weeks, hate is barely a small voice whispering in the back of your neck, one that hushes down with each kiss and/or words uttered by your one and only devoted husband.
mandoshoney: y/n protection squad pull up, we ride at dawn starlightt180: unhing3dprincess WHERE ARE U??? PTWT IS IN SHAMBLES AND NEEDS U MY SHAYLAAAAAAAAAA elysyannemimi: i feel like a kid scolded by their dad. pedro has achieved the ultimate daddy status bobgirlll: is no one going to talk about how rageful/protective pedro sounded in that story????? NEED MORE FERAL PEDRO RN GRRrrrr ps. photos so cute, wish that was me lol pyramiidsf: i hope y/n is okay, ppl can be so cruel sometimes but at least she's got pedro on her side <3 he's such a perfect man :,)
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It had been days since your fight.
In an sweet attempt to cheer you up, Pedro had taken you out for dinner to a fancy restaurant you can't remember the name of. If they'll snap pictures of my wife without my permission, I might as well show you off. So, per his petition, you had wore a little black dress that hugged every curve of your body perfectly and pushed your tits to the top. Stunning, he had growled, and it had been hard to push him off as he devoured your mouth in your house's doorstep.
"Let's give them talk" you had agreed.
So now you sat at the restaurant, Pedro filling your cup of wine for the third time in a row, talking about all and nothing: about politics, the weather, your siblings, Louis the cat, upcoming gigs around your home you wanted to go to, how support had risen and the hate had dwindled, the numerous calls of job offers and interviews to keep on milking your relationship... life had never been more hectic.
"You know, maybe the dress was a bad idea" he takes a bite of his meat, tone nonchalant.
"Yeah?" you challenge, cheeks flushed with alcohol, "why's that? I thought I had to look good. What changed your mind?"
"Turns out" he looks at you, gaze piercing through your body, brown warm eyes darkening, "I figured something"
You know your husband. It's still fresh in your mind the first day you took a notice of it: jaw clenching, gaze fixated at nothing and white fists balled up on to the sides, arms swinging while fingers itched. A vein on his forehead would pop, and brows would melt together in a furrow. It happened when you got recognized by a fan, on your early days, and he had taken a picture of you, uploading it to social media. Dating Pedro had been going on for little to five months, and the way this guy hugged you from behind, hand resting above your ass, had made your then-boyfriend see red. His posture stiffened, demeanor changed and face adquired all the characteristics above. There was only one correct answer: Pedro was jealous, so fucking jealous.
So here he is now, jealous to the bone, alcohol increasing the rage.
"And that is?" you push his buttons, something you normally wouldn't do, but you're drunk and God, so sex-starved. His possesive side was always hot, yet now? It had a layer of allure it didn't have before, the idea of calming him down long lost.
"You know what it is" he answers, but you tilt your head to the side, acting confused. Pedro growls, clenching the glass a bit too tight; you fear it'll break.
"No, I don't" you serve more wine in your glass, savouring the liquid. Some spills into your mouth, and you lick it while not breaking eye contact. "Enlighten me"
"Turns out" the words come out strained, a whirlwind of emotions burning in the tip of his tongue, "that I wanted people to look at my wife, but I looked their looks and realized I don't like how they look at her"
He rambles the words out, speech pattern slurred and ideas clashing into one another, clearly drunk.
"I see" you draw out, demeanor calm, but your panties have started to get wet.
"No" he hits the table, making your eyes go wide and people turn to your table. You should be embarrased, but you're only aroused. "You don't see what I see. And I hate it, I fucking hate it" he seethes, words spit out over your unfinished meal.
"Dessert?" the waiter appears from seemingly nowhere, menu on hand.
Pedro doesn't even look when he answers, "Sure. Bring your best"
"The chef's suggestion is Soufflé, a classic dessert from his country"
"That'll do" Pedro looks at you, but his brain seems to be somewhere else. Like he's thinking. "How long will it take?"
The waiter ponders the answer, yet doesn't think any weird of it.
"About twenty to thirty minutes. Would that be alright? Or would you prefer to switch to one of our quick-fixes? They're as delicious as our fresh and-"
"No" your husband interrupts, eyes shinning with something akin to dangerous. "We'll take the soufflé. Just want my wife to eat the very best"
The waiter smiles. "Sure, will be back in a few. More wine?"
Pedro stops the action, removing the bottle's neck from pouring more red liquid in your glass.
"Won't be needed"
They excuse themselves, leaving both of you alone. The restaurant bubbles with chat and instrumental music from a band playing on a corner, but all you hear is his heavy breathing and your heart.
"I wanted more wine" you pout, not even knowing why you said it.
He smiles devilishly. "I'll give you something better than that"
How does it happen, you have no idea, but then Pedro gets up with a brash move, chair making a sound that draws attention. He smirks, his auburn reflecting on the candle glowing in the center with a light that's menacing.
"I'm going to the bathroom" an announcement that feels like a threat that runs through the newfound tension; it could be cut with even a butterknife.
You sit there in silence, too stunned to speak. Your phone chimes in what feels like an hour (it's been a few minutes, probably three). You open the notification, a single text from Pedro.
I'm waiting.
So this was his plan all along, huh? Maybe he's gotten bored of sex on a bed and room like normal couples, because ever since that time you sucked his dick in his trailer, Pedro has shown an appetite for public sex. Well, more like just shown but never done. Guess that changes as of tonight.
I'm coming.
Truth is, after the reveal and fight, you hadn't had sex since that time before the London premiere. Press tour hadn't finished, and the movie was still playing in theathers, but it feels much longer the time you had gone without having his dick rearranging your insides. That changes as of tonight.
You practically leap out of your sit, rushing to the restroom, which is too fancy for your liking. You're unsure how to proceed, and it should be because you realized how stupid and reckless this is, but it's more because you don't know which door Pedro is behind: men or women.
You knock softly on the ladies room first. "I'm here" you speak, voice small.
After a few seconds, a muffled voice from behind replies: "Me too"
You giggle as he pulls you inside, mouth devouring yours in a hot kiss.
"The lock!" you squeal, yet Pedro is busy buring his face between your breasts, pulling the dress down until he's nipping at the skin before licking the spot with his tongue. Your back is pressed against the tiled white wall, cold meeting your now heating skin.
"Mmm, missed this" he mumbles in a drunken state. "Needed my girls so bad"
His words elicit a moan out of you, a way to comunicate that your body too had been aching for this.
"Please, Pedro-" you whimper, trying to get rid of the pretty dress. He doesn't say it, but his movements command for power, big hands dragging your dress down until the black cloth falls to the floor in a sound filled with grace, it feels merciful.
"Black panties? But I thought I was a man with a plan" he groans, calloused digits ghosting over the wet patch in the middle. He smells your arousal off his fingers, and this is so nasty but you're so into it.
"Two can play" is all you answer, eager fingers unbuckling his belt as you unbutton the formal pants and pull them down to his knees, so with his underwear.
"Sure thing" he chuckles darkly. "Just look at you, baby. So loud, but you gotta be quiet. ¿Quieres que alguien entre y te vea así? Fucking slut, begging for my cock" (do you want someone to come in and see you like this?)
He's always been sweet-talking you through sex, and you know he doesn't mean it aside from being lewd words, but you also didn't know you could be aroused by it. Change is welcome, to say the least.
His hard dick is immediately stroking at the apex of your thighs, like he's got no time to loose, kissing you roughly like he hasn't eat and your mouth is his meal.
"Twenty minutes" he grumbles, groaning.
"Or thirty" you add, whining when his cock brushes dangerously close to your dripping folds.
"Can't believe you're this wet already" he chuckles, but it sounds more like a breathy sigh, lost in the inside of your mouth.
"I've been wet since before we left the house and you kissed me"
"And I kissed you" he adds. "No sé ni por qué putas te traje si sólo quería quedarme en casa y comerte" (i don't know why the fuck i took you out if all i wanted was to stay at home and eat you out)
You moan at his dirty mouth, clicking your tongue as a way to say so.
"You dirty old man-" it dies in your throat when he glides inside your folds with ease, a finger slipping in, then two, as he curls them. Your head rolls back, landing against the door with a hollow thud.
"Dirty? But you enjoy this, don't you?" his fingers buried up your hilt. Your eyelids flutter, whimpering drowned by your lips, bitten so deep you think you start to taste blood. "Bad news, mami. You're as dirty as me"
You choke in your words. "No-"
"No what?" Pedro mocks, sliding his digits out of you and shoving them inside his mouth, sucking on them while looking at you. You whine at the display and loss of them, knowing he's tauting you for fun. "Don't tell me you don't want someone to come in here and see you acting like a dirty slut? To see you almost coming here and now with just two of my fingers"
"Fine. What if I want to, huh? Just give me your damn cock already and quit teasing"
Words were lewd, but Pedro smiles with adoration.
"That's my girl"
His length springing free to slap against his now smooth stomach, your mouth drooling.
"Sit"
He glares back, "in the toilet?"
"Well, do you happen to see a couch or bed?" you quip. "That's right: you were the one who chose the bathroom, desperate old man. So needy, aren't you?"
You see your husband turning around, ashamed, and you laugh. "I didn't think it through" and you avoid to add a that's quite obvious snarky type of reply.
"Want me as much as I do?" Pedro doesn't protest anymore, grunting some spanish curses before sitting on the cold surface. "Good. Then comply"
You swing a leg over his lap, not afraid if the thing breaks, dragging your wet folds against his cock. He moans, gripping your thighs hard, biting at your lower lip to hide a growl that seems to erupt from deep within his chest.
"Gonna ride you, baby. Is that okay?" you take the lead, and Pedro gets frustrated that you're taking up a plan that was originally his. Despite such, he just finds himself nodding wordlessly like a fool.
You line up, desperate to have him inside of you. But you go slowly down, taking his size, maybe because you're drunk or because you'd never fucked in a bathroom before. Because, really, how will you even try to explain your PR team a broken bathroom?
You gasp as he bottoms out, struggling to catch your breath with the relentless push. His strong arm cages your waist, as he moans in your ear, bodies going up and down in sync. His slides are smooth across his length, helping you find your pace.
"Fuck" you whimper, legs starting to shake. "I think I-"
"I know" he interrupts you, a quick kiss to your earlobe. "It's okay; I've got you, linda"
He thrusts upwards, toilet creaking as Pedro keeps you in place.
You bury your teeth into his shoulder to muffle your moans, skin slapping against skin loudly, his movements becoming faster. The pressure keeps on adding, until the tightness on your walls is too much, and you're collapsing over his chest, folds spasming as he empties his load inside of you, seed deep in your walls, dripping down your legs.
"Oh, shit" you gasp, "Pedro!"
"Perdón!" he shouts, then covers his mouth. "Mierda, no quise ser tan ruidoso. Ay, carajo. Didn't want to spill all over you-" (sorry! didn't mean to be so loud. oh, fuck)
"There's a sink" you start, "and toilet paper. We'll manage"
"Right" he looks at his watch, "we got about ten minutes"
You smile, cheek resting against the warm skin of his neck. "If the chef took the whole thirty"
"There's only one way to find out" he gasps for air. "Pero, ¿no estás llena? Still up for dessert?" his big hand finds it's way to your tummy, you still contentedly stuffed full of him. It lingers, and when you look into his eyes, he averts his gaze, ashamed of whatever he thought. (but, aren't you full?)
"After this, I need some sugar to make it home" your eyelids drop. "I'm starving"
He presses a loud kiss to your head, "that's my girl"
"Yours" you pull back to rest your forehead against his. "Just yours"
He jolts forward, capturing your mouth in a hot kiss, and you smile into it.
"Good. Now, I'll give my good girl what she deserves" he takes some toilet paper to clean his spilling load out of you, kisses running from your face to neck. Then, gently so, lets you dress in again, exiting the bathroom first to give you some cleaning up space. When you come back to your table, the Soufflé is there.
"Eat" he commands, voice thick and rough. You smirk, giving it a bite as you look into his eyes: hair disheveled, puffy lips and droopy eyes. The bite mark seems to shine, or maybe you need to lay down for a while. "Y no mires atrás, ¿sí? We got ourselves a crowd" (don't look back, yeah?)
That night, you upload a story with a picture of the dessert with a caption that reads: best meal I've ever had. The context is lost until news of your bathroom affairs hit headlines next morning, but you don't notice: your phone happens to be dead, and you're too busy getting railed in what could count as round two to charge it.
pompeiianbollockr: hello just woke up and saw the pictures WTF TMZ??? did they really do #that 😭 bring back public shaming unhing3dprincess: i bet my grandma they fucked in that fancy ass restroom ㅤㅤmostannoyingbillioner: unhing3dprincess QUEEN U ARE BACK 😭 BETTING UR GRANDMA AGAIN? OH IKTR WE WERE LOOSING THE ANCIENT TEXTS poppysplayground: ohhhhh they're so nasty (do u want a third) ㅤㅤann-gell: poppysplayground fr like INVITEN
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The interview for Entertainment Weekly's behind the cover for Gladiator II was supposed to just include Paul and Pedro, but taking advantage of the free publicity and buzz your announcement made, they added you. Especially after the news about your restroom affair had hit, courtesy of TMZ; the rumor wasn't taken into account in the beginning, but now added gasoline to the gossip fire. Just what the movie needed: free promo.
You're sat in the middle of the two men, dressed in white as well, to match their attires with a flowy dress that loosely resembles that of Rome's. Then, Paul begins to speak.
"I saw the film for the first time when I was about 13 with my dad" he talks about the original movie.
"I saw it in the movie theater when it came out" you imagine a young Pedro lined up to see Russell Crowe's magnetic performance and let out a small smile. "I saw it twice, because of how emotional the movie was. Obviously it's incredibly visceral, and epic and the kind of movie you rarely get to see made, uh, these days"
You look at him, elbow resting on the arm chair as your body is all turned to his side. Truth is, you love listening to him, especially when he seems so invested, love for the subject rooted in each word.
Pedrito, you'd affectionally call. Ésto es una conversación, no un monólogo. And he'd blush embarrased, only for you to laugh it off, saying you would turn mute if that meant for him to continue speaking. (this is a conversation, not a monologue)
"It had an impact emotionally. I remember that, I guess, sadistically I was drawn to a second time go back again because, weirdly, it was very comforting. I remember it perfectly came out in year 2000. Right?" he asks, and Paul and you agree with a yeah. "I can remember what theater I was in and everything-"
"What theater was it?" Paul interrupts his passionate talking.
Pedro stops, "It, uh-" he rambles, before you all laugh.
"What about you, y/n? Were you even born?" Paul jokes, making you roll your eyes at his antics and deliberate desire to keep nagging you like some older annoying brother.
"I was like, born a year after you, Paul. But I didn't watch the movie until I was fifteen" you feel the gaze of both men fall upon you. "The first Ridley Scott movie I watched was Thelma and Louise, as you all know. Then my dad insisted I should watch it, and finally, at fifteen, when I had given up on my dreams to go on one last epic trip to the Grand Canyon, he played it. My eyes, they were, like, glued to the screen. I couldn't stop thinking about it for a while" you leave a small lingering touch on Pedro's arm, "just like he said: epic and emotional. Also, I had a huge fat crush in Joaquin Phoenix that lasted until I was twenty"
"That was like, seven years ago!" Pedro yells, making Paul snorts. "I feel deceived"
"Qué dramático. We're both married, you big baby!" you laugh, then make a joke before the next conversation starts: "You wouldn't think he plays an epic Roman General, would you?" (how dramatic)
They film some shots of you and the boys before moving to the next talk.
"I was doing a play in London at the time. I'd met with Doug and Lucy who are the producers of the film in LA, and then a zoom was set up and I spoke to Ridley for about 5 minutes about what Gladiator was going to be about. And then we spoke for the next 25 minutes about like, gaic football and dogs, and then I thought we'd do like camera tests and- but no, he just-" he shrugs. "I found out about two weeks later"
Now it's Pedro's turn.
"I knew that the project existed. I knew that Paul was doing it. I think it started with an actual like meeting with Ridley to go and sit down with him and I, whether or not the movie was going to happen for me or not, I was like I'm going to go meet Ridley Scott" he jokes, making you both chuckle. "It wasn't even about getting the job, it was like I'm going to go and sit down maybe five minutes, ten, twenty, as many minutes as I can"
"It was in LA" you speak up, "in his offices"
"Yeah, and thankfully he was willing to talk about all the things I wanted to know about, in terms of other movies, and that's what it really turned into"
"He's a wonderful Storyteller" Mescal compliments. "You could sit down with Ridley for-"
Pedro makes a joke, speaking over him. "Give me another one, give me another one-"
You still kind of hate the guy after his supposed comments on your husband's weight, but won't talk bad about a man who gave you work and your biggest role to the date yet, so you explain how it happened to you.
"I wasn't even planned to appear on the movie. As a matter of fact, my character was squeezed in last minute. Ridley is, just as they said, indeed, a storyteller" you smile. "The truth is, I worked with Cuba, his granddaughter, on a proyect together, a photography one. I was in London at the time, auditioning for a movie, when we met"
"London?" Paul asks.
"Yes" you laugh, ashamed. "I traveled to London with some of my savings, because you know what they say about not doing and then regretting. But I do regret it; I cried for my money to be back!"
"You didn't get the part" Pedro adds, barely containing a snicker.
"I didn't" you sigh, "Cuba saw me sitting alone on a café, eyes red with tears of failure and talked me into capturing such vulnerable moment. She didn't know me but made my day better, and she took some of the most beautiful pictures I've seen of myself. So, in a way, I won. I mean, she's the reason I got the role: my name came up on a phone call with Scott, as I had already made a name for myself, and showed him the pictures. He got in contact with my agent and I got the role after auditioning. Call that friendship nepotism"
"Didn't Pedro tell you about it? I find it funny that he was in the movie and didn't get you in" Paul comments, curiously.
"We were supposed to remain a secret, and the sudden connection when we had barely interacted according to the public, would've been weird. So no, Pedro rubbed his role on my face and then I came home with the new script as he received his. We both won our roles separately, and until we got it both, we realized just what it would mean"
"But now we're here" Pedro speaks fondly, taking your hand. "Rome conquers it all"
You can only hold his and stare back lovingly.
"Oh" the Irish man feigns disgust, "don't get all lovey dovey on me!"
The topic changes again, as Paul speaks.
"We meet early in the film, and this is again kind of Ridley's genius. He shoots it in a way that it feels plausible, but in like- the real action of that there's no way-"
They start talking ovwe each other excitedly about the process of filmaking, Pedro listing all the settings were the epic action takes place.
"We lock eyes" Pedro jests, "we lock eyes"
"All right" Paul plays along. "Three, two, one"
"i'm right here" you say, pushing your body to the front. "You got me third wheeling in my own marriage"
Paul laughs, breaking contact.
"Time for you to get a taste of your own medicine. You've made the rest of this press tour unbearable!" he protests, but his tone is devoid of complain.
"Marcus Acacius represents like-" Mescal then speaks about your husband's character, "he's a Roman general"
"No, he is the general of Rome" you correct, smirking.
"Be careful, princess. Don't let the emperor see you all over his General" the blue-eyed man next to you mocks, and you roll your eyes again.
"Will you ever let me live?"
Paul then talks about his character. "I'm like a lieutenant in the numidian Army. I kind of see Acacius as this, he- he represents everything that I hate about, uh, the Roman Empire"
"Well, the Roman Empire is expanding and expanding" Pedro takes the word, "and invading Numidia just to gain more and more power, and we realize that there really is kind of no ceiling to the lust of that power"
"And that's to do with the Emperors, right? Like, played by Joe and Fred who are wonderful" Paul adds, complimenting both actors in the process. "And let's not forget our Empress too"
You make a face at that, feeling in the need to defend your character.
"Empress Alba is tragedy. I think she embodies well the feelings of helpnessless all women felt during that time. She's an object, another shiny possesion subjected to her husband's amusement, so she drowns in all pleasure available to forget her existence. Lucius hates her because he sees all the filth of Rome in her, like, this whole debauchery and squandering while the people beg for scraps. But it's a pattern seen across history, isn't it?" you pause. "I think it's interesting to compare her to Lucilla, because she's loved by the people, seen as human- despite being noble. It's sad because it's until too late that Lucius realizes she's a victim of the system he hates"
Pedro smiles at your little intervention, loving the way you explain a character you'd play so graciously. One of your favorite movies is Marie Antoinette, by Sofia Coppola, so probably it felt personal to you in some level. God, hadn't you made him watch it at least ten times?
"It unravels through the film that I've kind of miscalculated who I think Acacius is, just as with Alba" Paul comments.
"His character misunderstands my character just like Paul misunderstands us" Pedro quips, making both of you laugh.
"Then it kind of culminates in a big fight that we have in the-"
"Doesn't it always?" you add. "Wouldn't be an epic without it"
"Do you want to talk about it?" Paul dares, jokingly.
"No we're not talking about it" he cuts him off.
"Who's the better fighter'" Paul asks after some silence. Pedro dares him with a go on.
"I would say I'm better the better share. What you think?"
"I would say Lucius is the better fighter"
"Lucius is the better fighter" Pedro repeats slowly, incredulous. "Do you want us to fight? Lucius is a better fighter than the general of Rome, who survived decades and conquered" Paul tries to defend himself but Pedro doesn't let him. "I fight four men before I get you, and I call it off!"
"Yeah, but I think if you hadn't called it off -"
"You don't think I would have do some sort of mature aged learning-"
They end up discussing a bit more until you clear your throat.
"Why don't you ask for a third party to break your tie?" and you point towards yourself, mouthing a cute me with your painted pink lips.
"No!" Paul immediatly opposes, "It would be biased, silence her!"
"Have you seen Acacius' arms?" you gauge Pedro's arms, biceps flexing under the white attire. "It definitely isn't biased, at all"
The conversation carries on after some more shots. In some, you pose seriously, but in between such, you laugh along with them, Pedro even hugging you and Paul from behind in one of both. No kisses yet, but you know fans will be rabid just with the lingering touches and flirty undertones in your interactions.
"We began together in Morocco, and I think seeing that set and the scale of the production so quickly, desensitized me to the scale of the of what- Malta was in the Coliseum, and Ridley moves at such a pace, which I actually think really helped me because you don't have time to kind of sit there and and kind of bask in the wonder of it" Paul talks. "Because you're shooting three or four scenes, build your expectations of how to meet the size of, it or anything 'cuz 'cause it's impossible" Paul looks at Pedro and asks: "and I think Ridley; did I tell you what Ridley said first day of shooting to me? He came out to the tent while they were dressing the set, thousands of extras, everything fire, camels and he comes in, and he's- he's smoking a cigar, and we're all stood around and he's like Are you nervous? and we're all like No and he slaps me on the back and goes Your nerves are no good to me, before we filmed anything. But I think it was like- it's funny, but it's this idea that this is your playground, and you have to kind of step into it and own it. So, I-I don't actually really remember my first walking into the Coliseum, 'cause I feel like I lived in the Coliseum for about three or four weeks"
"You lived in the Coliseum of your mind" Pedro quips, making Paul laugh.
"I do remember, you know, when I first walked into the Coliseum, you know. It- it gave me chills. Like, literally chills. Look! I still get the goosebumps" you point your arm. "Honestly, all of it felt just too real, and I couldn't help but for a moment, think I actually was in Rome- that I belonged to nobility"
Pedro takes your hand and kisses it gently. "That's because you do, princesa"
"One of the things that I have never experienced on a movie before, is that there was so little left to the imagination" Pedro expresses. "Me and the rest of the ensemble are together in the emperor's box, and there's this enormous battle that's taking place, and Ridley composed all of the off camera for us in the emperor's box, with Paul leaping from one ship to another taking two men down what would you call that?"
"A cloth line flying" Paul answers.
"Clothes line?" you try.
"A flying- a flying clothes line" Pedro decides, carrying on "just so that we could know what we were looking at. I couldn't f*****g believe it"
"That's true" you remark. "The result goes so hard- I mean, it looks amazing" you sheepily laugh. "The action, the violence, the epic... it all shines through. It just- it makes sense"
The conversation shifts again.
"The legacy of the first film is so profound, and has such a strong place in so many people's, like, hearts and minds, it's inescapable, but I was looking at it- and I was like" Paul shares. "The screenplay does a lot of that work for you in terms of like, the rubbing the dirt between the hands. the kind of DNA and the genetics that Lucius inherits. I remember reading the script and there's like, a moment in the script where it's Lucius puts on the breastplate and it's written like Lucius now becomes Maximus"
"But Lucius, despite being a son, is also a man" you counter. "He isn't Maximus"
Paul agrees.
"I kind of tried to park that to one side, because ultimately, where Lucius is coming from at the start of the film, he has a very different journey than Maximus does, and I was hoping that whatever DNA- and even just the physical gestures, was going to be one part of- a kind of small part of the performance" he explains. "What I tried to do is figure out exactly who Lucius was and where those differences lay between Lucius and Maximus"
"One of the things that I loved most about my character is that he's introduced in the beginning of the movie, in this very epic battle sequence, that I think in its own way homages the first film" Pedro shares. "But even better, because we follow him back to Rome and discover his direct connection to one of the only characters that is living and with us from the first movie, and I loved being a a kind of thread, an invitation, into what we know from the first movie by being Connie Nielsen's man"
Paul looks at you silently, before poking your side: "Someone is real quiet with that comment"
You narrow your eyes. "I have no idea what you're talking about"
"I am Connie Nielsen's man as Marcus Acacius, but as Pedro Pascal, I'm all y/n's"
Your face goes red at how easily you are to be understood, your husband answering just what you wanted to listen.
"Ha! Look at your face, I was right!" Paul ridiculises you.
But after such an embarrasing moment, he shifts the conversation again.
"There's a moment where Pedro has this, uh- it's so clever from a- from an acting standpoint, but also in the in the script like, you see this brutalizing Force come into Numidia, and there's this section where there's the burning of the bodies, and that it's one of my favorite shots in the film" Paul muses. "It's this closeup on Pedro, when he says Vae Victis to the conquered, and you feel like it's a really difficult thing to communicate in one line, that you see: Oh, this General is, kind of wearing this responsibility with great difficulty and shame"
"I wasn't doing that at all" your husband deadpans. You stiffle a giggle.
"You were very good in it" Paul argues back with a smile.
"That wasn't what I was playing" he insists, serious but Paul asks What were you playing? and you all laugh.
"If I had a favorite scene, I'd say it'd be naval fight" you mention. "The colliseum is filled with water, and it's this- it feels like a thing that has never been done before, and with the people cheering and the buzz, and the announcement and echo of the drumming, it's as if you were there, in the crowd. The tension is palpable, the violence is thrown at your face but the scariest one, is the one that lies underneath. Uh, Lucius character tries to attack the General while we, you know, the royals and especial guests, are sitting at our box, and he gets so close, it serves, I think the bottom climbing the ladder to bite the ankles of the top. Obviously, that before we know who Lucius actually is, but I think it's kind of cool"
The interview is ending, the last of your twelve-minute conversation being filmed now.
"I am really excited for everyone to see Paul" Pedro beams, making the younger one laugh. "I'm sorry but it has to be said. You are sensational in the movie" then adds, "and pretty easy on the eyes"
"Everyone in this movie is easy in the eyes" you quip, looking at your side. Pedro coughs a bit before speaking again, even if a faint blush is coating his cheeks.
"-And he worked so hard, and I got to see that happen like, in front of me, and on the day and just lead with Ridley, this enormous crew and this enormous cast... To get to see that, on the big screen, is really exciting and I think people are going to- they're going to love it"
"That's very kind" you exclaim softly with a smile, then add. "I'm sure of it, especially if you were a fan of the first. Both are very interwined, although each film is its own thing" you comment.
"For a lot of us, the actors, we haven't worked on a film on that scale" you violently shake your head "and I think, there's a little bit of trauma bonding that went on with, kind of having to- kind of feel like, total impostor syndrome within it all. But to see your friends operate at that level on a film of that scale, doing like incredible work. I think, across the board, I haven't seen a film on this scale for a long long time rhat's rooted it has the scale and the performances, and I personally think it's one of Ridley's greatest pieces of work"
senhoritamayblog: y/n was SO REAL holding pedro's arm and talking abt how he'd beat paul bc he's beefy ME WHEN moltisantiii: you know what i think ridley's greatest piece of work is? giving us this trio youlooklike-clarabow: y/n is truly a princess 🥹 i don't know if i want to be y/n to be with pedro or pedro to be with y/n ㅤㅤann-gell: youlooklike-clarabow well, she's the people's princess after all!
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You haven't even left the room when Pedro is all over you, kissing your neck on that sweet spot of yours that elates a little breathy whine. Doesn't he know you well?
"What are you doing?" you manage to squeak out as his needy big hands grope your body, flesh soft under the flowy white dress. He grunts when he catches your panties, embarrasingly wet already at just a few sloppy kisses and eager touches.
"What do you think?" he whispers against your ear as you both try to walk away from where voices can be heard, and then Pedro is guiding you to a room, closing the door behind him. If he was able to walk to the room while kissing you, he must've seen it in a passing. Had your husband plan this all along? Greedy needy old man.
"What I think, baby, is you're forgetting something" you push him off, giggling. He makes a little pout, making it hard to keep your ground. "Now that everyone knows we're married and we suddenly both go misteriously missing at the same time, they'll just put two and two together. I mean, does it really take a smart person to figure it out?"
Pedro doesn't back down, still caging your frame against the locked door.
"So?" his annoyed and tense voice only makes you laugh more. That turned on was he? Pedro seems annoyed at your fit of laughter, his pants tight.
"What do you mean so? We almost got caught by Paul last time!" you chuckle amused. "And, are you seriously going to pretend TMZ didn't air our bussiness just about last week?"
"Well, maybe you should've thought about it before" he goes back at the task of attacking your mouth, words spewing in between hungry kisses. You mouth a little taunting innocent looking Before what? and then Pedro is talking while his gaze is glued to yours, tightening his arms around you, and the answer is just about that. "You should've thought about it before getting all flirty with me, grabbing my arm in front of the camera like the naughty girl you are. So fucking needy you can't hide it for a few hours, can't even go through an interview without touching me, looking at me, being possesive at a fictional marriage even" your face burns hot with embarrasment at that. Oh, was he being nasty on purpose? Why bring that up? "Haven't I taught you manners?"
It's hard to force yourself to hold his gaze while standing still. Taunting. Defiant.
"José Pedro Balmaceda Pascal" you chastise, "do you want people to know we are raw dogging in the dressing room? That's the manners you so badly talk about"
His face goes red, his demostrations stopping for a bit as he studies your now serious face.
"Wait, do you want to raw dog in the dressing room?" he gasps at the boldness in your words, which, to be fair, is kind of exaggerated, as you both have said worst stuff before. "That's not what I had in mind"
"That's not?" you arch an eyebrow. "Oh, no. Absolutely not. You can't just kiss my neck greedily and touch my body eagerly like a goddamn starved horny idiot, and then expect me to not act up on it, you old man"
There's silence before he speaks up again. "Y/n, you talked about manners"
You take a deep breath in, making sure the door is actually locked.
"Well, fuck them manners"
You capture his lips on a hungry kiss, same kind of force you had made fun of him, just minutes ago. He's pushing his tongue inside of you, as his hands move up to your shoulders and back down to your waist. You rub yourself against him, looking for some kind of friction, and his big calloused hands pulls your waist closer in an attempt to do the same.
"Manners maketh man" he's reciting, and such stupid proverb and line from one of his old works shouldn't turn you this much. Pedro lifts up the dress until your body is devoid of the cotton, murmuring about how unfair it was for you to taunt him with translucent cloth, tender flesh hiding under the white. So hard to focus on interviews, mami, when you're close to me or something like that, as you're too lost in the fire. No bra? Fuck, baby. Do you want to kill me?
"Sofa" you command, eyes darting to the furniture so you can show him where. "Now"
You take off your panties in a go, revealing the slick that's just a few seconds from running down your legs.
"I see, my legs won't be the only thing drooling" you mock his agape mouth. He takes off the blazer with shaking hands, sitting as you get on top of him. Pedro kisses his way down your neck, sucking on the skin. How will you get out of here without comfirming suspicions? Surely, there must be something inside here that could be of help.
"Well, I've wanted to do this for a while" he mumbles against the now red patches of before honey-ed skin. Again? you think.
"Have me or fuck again in public?" you ask out loud, and even if you're laughing, there's a layer of fondness in your voice. "I'm starting to wonder if you have an exhibition kink, papi"
He breathes a little no before biting right above your collarbones, his tongue then releaving the pain with a wet slick move over the flesh as you let out a whine.
"Busy schedule, mami. A husband's gotta find a way to make time for his pretty wife, even if it means fucking her in the goddamn dressing room" he says into your ear. Pedro had done more interviews than you, and between that and filming for his other projects, he's right. "So what if they find out? Need them to know who you belong to. I'm just a devoted husband, will you punish me for that?"
You caress his face, pristine hair now disheveled, the gel succumbing to the heat and sweat trapped in the room.
"Look at you, naughty boy. El burro hablando de orejas" you laugh, "but of course I won't. Need you too so bad" (look who's talking)
His finger wanders down to your pussy, big hand roaming around the area. His middle and ring finger run over it, the golden band starting to shine with your arousal. Fuck, that just made you wetter.
"Shit, baby. You're so eager... wasn't lying when you talked before"
"Needed you since you kissed me today, when you woke up" your teeth grit at his lingering digits. "Your dick rubbed against my bare thigh, fucking hard"
Truth is, you're always horny; being married to Pedro Pascal does that to you. But mornings? Waking up to that handsome face and girthy dick? You really be testing yourself sometimes.
"Jesus, mami" he whistles. "So fucking dirty, thinking about me all the interview because my morning wood grazed your skin, you dirty naughty girl"
Pedro finally slides his fingers inside of you, making you squirm under his gaze as your back archs. "So fucking beautiful, can't believe you're all mine" he moans and you squeeze his shoulders, nails digging and bruising his skin under the shirt that sticks to his skin, body heating up like a furnace.
"Please, Pedro" you plead, lip biting your under to supress a whimper. "Please curl your fingers, need to have you- feel you inside. Fuck-"
Your words cut off as he moves his fingers with learned ease, his thumb rubbing your clit as a treat.
"Mmm" you murmur with pleasure, back arched again, your tits too dangerously close to his face. Without much thought, he licks your nipple and then devours the whole breast with his mouth. All while looking at you, this absolute horndog. Your nails dig in deeper as you pronounce his name in a shaky exhale. Wanting more. Begging for more.
"Mmm? That's right" his palm on your waist squeezes lightly, more pressure on his grip. "Can't speak 'cause I'm making you feel so good, huh?"
You don't answer, instead throwing your head back, nails digging deep to the point he winces, making a face by the pain. You mouth an apology, but then he licks your nipple again, and teeth move to your nibble your earlobe―you're not sorry anymore.
"S-stop" you choke out, body shivering.
"What? Can't take what you asked for? No muerdas más de lo que puedes masticar, niña mala. Bad girl" (don't bite off more than you can chew, bad girl)
His lewd words elicit another moan out of you.
"I-I can. In fact, I want- no, need more. I don't want to cum on your fingers" you whisper in his ear, hot breath probably why he shivers. "Pull down your pants, pretty boy, because I want to cum on your dick"
"Fuck, mami. What a dirty mouth" he moans.
Eager hands try to lower his pants as your fiddle with the same feel, the borrowed wardrobe struggling to get off in the current position. His underwear goes next, and you squirm as he aligns his tip with your dripping entrance.
You moan and he grunts, as his dick enters your tight folds, sounds clashing onto each other as so do your bodies, fitting perfectly. His hands travel from your waist to ass, his head against the back of the sofa, your hands that were before on his shoulders now on his chest.
"Such a pretty view you're giving me, wifey" he tries to laugh, but the sound comes out strained along each powerful stride of his cock that buries inside of you, each bouncing harder, his hands pathethically running over your ass, back, hips, and legs, as his eyes devour the way your tits jiggle with each thrust, tongue burning with desire to suck on the skin again. "So beautiful, and all mine. Only mine. Mía"
His words drip with devotion and wordship; all the love in the world. Pedro calls you beautiful, goddess, and a string of spanish words crossed with adoration. Mami. Linda. Princesa. Diosa. Hermosa. It has your orgasm looming over, head spinning and pussy stretched, walls tightening.
"I'm close" you whisper, riding him with soft-paced movements as his turn sloppy.
You see stars, walls almost kicking his dick out as you coat it in your slick, arousal dripping down until it's coated his balls and smeared the white attire. Fuck. Now Pedro's moving his waist, hunting for his own orgasm.
"Me too" he breathes out, "stay with me"
His hands travel sloppily to your waist, lazily holding you still with his calloused digits.
"Quick, baby" you breath out, "I'm sensitive"
"I'm almost there. Just hold on a little longer" then a whine before shakily pleading. "Please, please, just wait for me"
You move your hips slowly, aroused by his needy pleads, robbing a moan out of him. "Cute" you praise, making his cheeks redden with sweat and blush.
He is cute: hair messed up, mouth red and puffy, and brown puppy eyes.
"I love you so much" Pedro let's out, and it sounds like a confession, despite being married for so long.
"I know, baby, I know" you reach for his face, removing some sweat beads from his forehead, and he leans on the touch, closing his eyes as another gutural growl erupts from his chest. "I love you too"
You keep on riding until you feel his dick twitch inside of your walls.
"We need to stop doing this" you pant out.
"Too late for that, bonita. At least no one found out this time" Pedro laughs. "But you like the talk, don't you? Gonna give 'em something to talk about" he pants, "will fill you up so good you won't be able to walk without my seed spilling from you" sweat beads from your face fall onto his. He obscenely licks the salty drops. "Te voy a dar tantos hijos, que no cabrán en la casa. That way they will know you're mine" (will give you so many kids, they won't fit in the house)
You moan loufly, folds now coated on thick ropes of hot cum, as his movements come to a stop, slowing down until all that can be heard is your uneven breaths trying to recover.
And on cue, there's a knock at the door. Shit. You both remain silent, as if it would stop, but the knocking turns persistent.
"Pedro, I know you're in there"
It's Paul freaking Mescal, again. You might just have to invite him next time if he keeps showing up like that.
"Should I go?" Pedro whispers, and you shrug, stating it would be weirder to pretend he wasn't if Paul knew he was. "How do I look?"
You eye him up and down, eye glistening with dissaproval, red cheeks giving away your thoughts as if the furrowed eyebrows and ashamed gaze didn't already.
"We are fucked"
"No" he giggles, "we just fucked"
"That's not funny!" you roll your eyes, playfully smacking his chest. "Please, look into the mirror and try to fix yourself a bit. If not, we're doomed to be remembered as a horny couple. Oh, we were going so well! Fans will make fun of us and the press will call us horndogs" you lament, exaggerating your voice.
"Oh, shush. We wanted to be able to be in public. This is what it feels like"
You blush. "Maybe we can reduce the public aspect a bit..."
Pedro snorts before doing a quick fix to his appearance, walking to the door where Mescal patiently waits behind. Oh, of course; that little fucker. After the TMZ news dropped, he connected the dots and know that whatever happened in that trailer when Pedro told him to fuck off, wasn't holy at all. Now, he's probably laughing or scheming.
"Paul!" Pedro opens the door. "W-what's up?"
The younger man does a quick scan of his friend, barely able to hide a laugh.
"Looking radiant, my friend" he answers with a shit-eating grin. "They need to do some re-shootings. Have you happen to seen y/n? She just keeps dissappearing when you- oh, when you do!" he mocks. "Well, if you ever happen to find y/n, tell her you both need to get a good fix unless y'all want to show up on TMZ again. I'm pretty sure you can find something in this dressing room to cover those marks, yeah?"
He finally breaks down laughing in front of Pedro's shocked face.
"Ah, you guys are the absolute worst" he folds in a fit of laughter, "so fucking horny you end up fucking in bathrooms and dressing rooms!"
Your voice can be heard from inside as you growl, face red with fury and shame:
"Hijo de puta" (son of a bitch!), "don't make me bring Daisy Edgar-Jones into this!"
l-u-n-a-m: they're just milking their relationship atp for promo but i'm not complaining need more pictures of the photoshoot NOW vnightx: istg if they don't stop flirting in front of my single ass face. i need a gun at0michips: have i gone insane or does pedro have love bites ㅤㅤmybritishstyle: MI HIJO DOES NOT HAVE LOVE BITES. HE JUST FELL DOWN THE STAIRS
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cr: divider @kodaswrld / gif @trashcora / *i'm never gonna call twitter as X. it's still twitter, and will always be. fuck that ugly bigot filthy billionaire hoe called elon-trump-cocksucker-musk.
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bi-writes · 8 months ago
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how would simon react if his mail order bride got really really sick?
mail-order bride
the phone is ringing.
he's on leave, so normally he would never even touch the thing. but there are only two ringtones he has to answer to, and this one isn't price.
he picks it up, putting it to his ear. he wipes the sweat off his brow, letting out a sigh as he steps back under the shade. the sun is out today, of course choosing to beat down on him the one day he finally decided to build you better planters for your little garden.
you've taken to it quite nicely. you love being out here, tending to the little roots and the tiny leaves that have started to sprout. he thinks you look so cute when you're out here, on your knees. you always tie a scarf around your hair and wear these sage green gloves, and he thinks you look so fucking adorable when you come back inside with dirt along your brow and a sweet little smile on your face. you always give him an update. the carrots are so stubborn, you huff, and he tries to hide his grin as you bring out your little gardening journal and scribble in it all frustrated. look, simon! the tomatoes! look! look!--and he practically keens when you grab his hand to bring him outside so he can see.
but it's gotten too small. you've outgrown the little boxes of dirt, and simon knows you're itching to do more. the planter is only half done, so he's a little peeved to be interrupted while he's just starting to get it together.
"wot is it, luv, i'm--"
"s-simon?" your voice is a soft whimper, and you're sniffling on the other line. simon stands up straighter, dropping his tools immediately as he wipes his hands on his jeans and starts to go inside.
"oi. wot happened?"
"s-simon, i-i don't feel so good, c-could you come get me?"
simon lets out a low breath, shaking his head.
"fuckin' hell, luv," he mutters, grabbing his keys and wallet by the door. "still at the library?" you had asked him to drop you off in town, wanting to visit a few of the shops along the main road. your eyes had bugged when you saw the quaint little library and pastry shop, and he agreed to come back later after your little excursion.
"y-yeah, i-i..." you cough a little. "i-i got...i got sick. in the bathroom, i-i--"
"'s olright," he quiets you. "'m comin'. gimme a few minutes."
simon finds you in the family restroom of the little library, seated on the floor and hugging the toilet. he curses under his breath when he finds you, tears blurring your vision as you cry. you didn't sound so bad on the phone, but maybe you were just holding it together until you got yourself some help.
"ohhhh, swee'eart," he sighs, pushing the hood of his jacket off as he kneels down to your level. he wipes the sweat off your forehead with a gloved hand, cupping you under your jaw. "you olright?"
"no," you sob, gasping a little between tears. "i feel terrible, s-simon, i--"
"olright," he coos. "'m 'ere now. let's get ya 'ome. get ya into bed, tha' sound good?"
you nod. you look sickly, eyes dull, a cold sweat breaking out all over you. he suspects it might be the flu, considering the body aches you seem to have and the headache you tell him about as he helps you into the car. he gives you some water, stroking your face gently, and when you tell him how cold you are, he shucks his jacket off and drapes it over you before taking you back home.
you're in and out of consciousness over the next few hours. simon had helped you into your pajamas before tucking you into bed. he watched you with a glare to make sure you took the medicine he gave you, and he made you drink at least four glasses of water before he let you drift off to sleep.
when you wake up later in the evening, the cat is purring on her little bed hanging on the windowsill. simon had installed it a few weeks ago, a little perch bed so she could look outside and watch the little bunnies that came by in the morning. it's dark out now, and when you look around, simon has turned your little diffuser on, and it smells like lemons.
"s-simon?" you croak. your throat hurts. you hear a shuffle in the kitchen, and then simon is coming into the room. he doesn't turn the main light on, merely coming close and flicking the low lamp on beside you.
"'ow are ya feelin'?" he asks softly. your eyes are watery again, and he sighs, putting the back of his hand to your forehead and grimacing. "not as warm, at least. what do ya need, hmm?"
"my throat," you whisper. "i-it hurts--"
"i'll bring ya a cuppa, baby," simon murmurs. you sniffle, leaning into his hand. "do ya want somethin' ta eat? anythin'? got some bread...some soup if y'r up for it."
your lip wobbles, and he shakes his head, kissing your forehead gently.
"i'll bring ya some bread. if ya can keep it down, we'll try the soup, yeah?"
you just nod and shrug, and he picks up the box of tissues on the dresser and takes one out. he comes back to you, holding your cheek gently with one hand and wiping your tears with the other. he dabs at the sweat gently before he lets you relax again.
"i'll be right back."
you close your eyes when he leaves. you vaguely hear him in the kitchen, the sound of cookware and the whine of the kettle on the stove. simon comes back into the bedroom a little while later, holding a small plate and a steaming mug of tea. he sets down the tea, telling you it's something lemon with honey, and he shows you the thin slice of bread he's toasted with a little butter.
he sits with you while you eat small bites, and he helps you drink the warm tea that immediately soothes your insides. you start to cry again, but not from feeling so terrible.
"wot's wrong?" simon huffs, and you just look up at him, clinging to his shirt, pulling him onto the bed.
"t-thank you," you whisper, and simon just shakes his head.
"wot for?"
"f-for taking care of me. f-for c-coming to get me...for..."
simon meets your eyes, holding them, and he narrows his eyes.
"don't thank me," he says firmly. "wot fuckin' kind o' man would i be if i didn't take care of my wife, eh? sorry fuckin' wanker, is wot i'd be."
"b-but--"
"and when y'r better," he interrupts you, standing as he takes your plate, "got everythin' set up for ya outside. can move the lettuce, like ya wanted."
you sink into the cushions, happy tears in your eyes, and simon leaves, busying himself with the dishes as he tries to fight off the warm, aching feeling in his chest.
fuck, it feels so good to take care of you. to see you smile. to see your wobbly lip and those tear-filled eyes and know that he can make it all better--it feels so fucking good.
when he comes to bed later that night, you're still asleep, but you move towards him, seeking his warmth. it's instinctual now, easy.
there's a place at his side that's made only for you. it's shaped just how you are, it cannot be mistaken to be for anyone else.
when he whispers that he loves you into the dark, you don't hear him. but you scoot just that much closer.
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giddyfatherchris · 1 month ago
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📝 skz reaction - you're being a clingy baby
pairing. ot8!skz x gn!reader (individually)
type. fluff fluff fluffff, requested <3
warnings. gender neutral reader, curse words (thats how i show my enthusiasm okay)
a/n. i know last time i was like "meh sue me for not putting the boys in the 'right' order" but you know what, i actually like it like that. my boy jeongin is always last, he deserve to be first so i think i'm just gonna keep it like that when it comes to skz reactions :)
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jeongin ⊹ ࣪ ˖ he would tease you like hell about it until one day you actually start crying and he feels so fucking bad he never does it again. (to be fair he probably laughed when you first started crying but when he realized they were real tears? he is panicking). after that he never denies you again and makes sure to give you attention whenever you need it. you're the only person he allows to be clingy and needy with him. which the boys are kinda petty about because they sure aren't allowed to be clingy with their maknae they love so much lol. they'd tease him sooo bad about it but every time he says it's different for you. you get special privileges.
seungmin ⊹ ࣪ ˖ he would def be annoyed when you're being clingy, not because he actually minds it but mostly because he knows you sometimes push it JUST to annoy him lmao. so in return he would deny you just for fun or when you ask him cute stuff he'd purposely answer seriously or act like he doesn't understand your request until you start wailing like a lost cat and then he can't resist anymore. oh and also, he loves to act that way when you're in public but behind closed doors? he can be just as clingy, it's different from when you are but still. he's not necessarily needy, but he wants. you. close. to him. he'd be the type to constantly want to be around you and get pouty when you can't.
felix ⊹ ࣪ ˖ honestly being clingy with felix only means one thing... you're spoiled rotten. you need hugs and cuddles? he will RUN to give them to you. you just want to stick to him like glue? 'sure baby come here'. you want to lay on his lap while he's playing games? not a problem. you don't even understand how you're feeling but you know you need to be with him? he will be there, arms wide open for you no questions asked. all your wishes will be executed because its just how it works between you two. and thing is, the treatment he gives you? you give it right back. so at this point, it's not even a question or a thought. it's simply second nature.
han ⊹ ࣪ ˖ getting han's attention when you're feeling clingy? it's tough. either because he will get side tracked by any little thing, despite his good intentions, so you'll have to remind him to stay with you or to give you a hug. orrrr he will goof off like crazy and will not leave you alone. until the point where you're physically trying to get as far away from him as possible. oh and he'd chase you, no worries "but babyyyy you said you needed love and attention. stop running." with the scariest most mischievous smile in the world until you actually start running away and hide from him because he will smother you with love. (but let's be honest you always end up letting him catch you because come on... you'll take all the love he'll give you)
hyunjin ⊹ ࣪ ˖ he does not mind at all when you're being clingy. in fact he LOVES it. in skz, there is a holy trinity of baby talker and you can bet your ass he's one of them. he will baby talk (to the other boys utmost horror) and repeat your requests with the baby voice until everyone in the room physically cringe. oh and he's mean, he's a real lil bitch, so he will deny you cuddles just so you can pout harder. his heart melts at the sight of it and he can't help but want more. still, it'd only take you to give him the eyes before he'd giggle and pull you in for a big big hug while he digs in nose in the crook of your neck where you just smell so so good.
changbin ⊹ ࣪ ˖ being clingy with binnie can go one of two ways. first, he's just just not gonna mind at all. he'd notice you seem more clingy than usual and just signal for you to come next to him. he'd keep babbling or doing whatever it is he's doing but he'd put his arms around you mindlessly stroking your back and giving you little kisses on your forehead... OR he would return it ten times worse. i'm talking full on baby voice (member number 2 of the holy trinity), pinching your cheeks, exagerating your requests, jumping on your lap and he'd act clingy just to make you laugh. "aw my little baby needs cuddles? you feeling clingy? you want to sit on my lap? what if I sit on your lap instead?" "what no bin that's not- BIN YOU'RE SO HEAVY IM GONNA DIE"
minho ⊹ ࣪ ˖ honestly, he does not care. like at all, the teasing would be minimal but all in all he'd let you do whatever it is you want to do, give you whatever it is you need. because fine he likes to tease ppl, but he also loves cuddles and physical touch even if he would never admit it. often ppl won't dare to be clingy with him because of his black cat personality, but you've always been able to see behind that façade and to never let it scare you. so you do not hesitate to latch on his arm or rest your head in the crook of his neck while he's doing something. and it always feel like a sweet sweet reward when he simply drapes his arms around you, not even reacting to your touch like it's the most normal thing and second nature thing in the world for him.
bangchan ⊹ ࣪ ˖ uhm yeah bangchan? absolutely adores when you're clingy. in fact, he would get whiny if you're not constantly requesting cuddles and hugs and little kisses. he would also be a master of the baby voice and obliging to your every demand. he just loves to be needed and the way you need him makes him feel light as a feather. he'd come up to you "what is you need babe?" and you'd pout and ask whatever it is you want wether its a hug or cuddles or some time with him "i don't think i heard you well the first time. want to repeat that?" but right before you'd say it again he'd squish your cheeks together so you have the cutest pout on your mouth and you'd mumble than you can't exactly talk like that but he'd insist "no no you can, go ahead baby" you'd sigh and oblige "mhm-want-mhug?" and this man would squeal like a toddler because he thinks youre so cute he’s going to explode. chan does have the profile of someone with love aggresion and so he'd lovingly and agressively give you anything you want :)
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cordidy · 4 months ago
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Just needed to get this out of my head after Sylus's Myth so i hope you like it :)
TW : drunk MC, fluff, it's sad I guess ? No proof read cause i'm a savage, english is not my mother tongue
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“......tail ?” 
“What did you just say kitten ?” Sylus asked, gently patting the back on your thigh while steadying you on his shoulder as you exited the elevator together, .
At first he had been quite surprised to receive your call.
Even more so when you bluntly asked him if he would be ok playing bodyguard and keep an eye on you while you indulged in a night of carefree debauchery at the club but hey, who was he to judge ? 
Besides, if you felt safe enough to be in such a vulnerable state around him, going as far as trusting him with your safety and your apartment key to make sure you would make it back safe and sound, he was not going to complain.
“I….I said…ooooh that spins…do…do you ever miss your tail ?” you repeated, your voice tired and slurred, words barely comprehensive despite your best effort.
Sylus couldn’t help the chuckle that came as you poked his lower back through his jacket.
You really were wasted…
But you had a good reason !
Your week has been shitty as hell.
Your nights were even worse lately, barely getting a couple hours of sleep only to wake up either with a sore throat, screaming or crying at something you could not recall.
And, on top of that, you were off duty as Zayne decided you needed a break and refused to sign your abilitation.
“Come on Zayne, look, I’m fiiiiiiiiine” you tried to convince him with a huge smile and so much concealer on your face you could open your own makeup shop.
“As your physician I cannot let you go on field with such results” he retorted not even looking away from your chart “You should be dead with such a high blood pressure”
“I’m a tough cookie !”
“And you’re going to have to stay in the jar until these get better. You’re not only a danger for yourself right now but also for your partner”
That was a low blow but he had a point.
Clearly, you needed a break, something to unplug your brain, something fun, a good night out to leave all your problems behind and get shitfaced to oblivion. What you did not need though was the unwanted attention a young woman alone at the club would probably get and, while you were very capable of handling those kinds of situations, you did not really want to have to be on the lookout constantly or end up in a cell for assault.
You tried Tara, back to her family for the Holidays.
Simone ? Night shift.
Xavier….doing God knew what God knew where….
So, with a heavy heart you picked up your phone and called your secret weapon…
“Not necessary,” Sylus finally answered in a calm, composed voice, as he opened your apartment door, being extra careful as to not bump you in the doorframe. Based on the current humming coming from you right now and your kicking feet, your head was already going to kill you tomorrow.
Better not add “commotion” to the list of your impending issues.
“To be honest, being half human half cat was quite annoying” he admitted, walking you toward your bedroom to tuck you into bed. “I don’t like not being in control of myself and beside, it was bad for business to be away from the N109 zone for so long...although…I kind of enjoyed having to hide here and spend time with you…” he added with his signature smirk, poking your side before tossing you onto the bed, making you giggle like an idiot as you plopped on your back. It was the first time you allowed him into your room and, although he did plan on being a gentleman despite what you could think of him when sober, he couldn’t help the loving smile on his face as he watched you mumble something about a potato bag while fighting with your plushies for room.
“I miss you tail” you retorted in your drunk voice, closing your eyes in hopes it would help with the dizziness while Sylus started to remove your shoes and socks.
“I quite remember you telling me how insufferable it was” the man said in a collected tone while making his way to the kitchen once he was done. 
“Yeah but it was sooooo pretty…I miss how you used it to grab me with it and…and toss me around ! That was funny !” you laughed, mimicking being tossed around like a ragdoll in the middle of your plushies as Sylus was coming back in your room, a glass of water in his hand.
He stopped in his tracks, a puzzled look on his face.
“I never use my cat tail to...toss you around” he corrected.��His Evol, yeah, on a daily basis at some point actually, just to annoy you and enjoy those little lovely sounds coming from your mouth, threats mostly.
He had not been able to use it at all during the time those damn kittens from Hell had turned him into one of them though.
Your foggy brain did not hear him though and just kept mumbling in your drunken state, propping yourself on your elbows, trying to focus your gaze on him.
“You would think scales are cold and harsh…” you started, raising a finger to look all serious before falling back onto your pillow, not registering the look of surprise on his usually steady face.
“Kitten wh…” his voice was faltering as he looked at you getting all comfy like you had not just shaken his world upside down with your words.
“...but it was sooooo soft and sooooo warm…” you continued, grabbing your pillow to hold on tight as if you were looking for said warmth. 
Your voice was starting to fade as sleep was settling in.
“...felt safe when you wrapped it around me…I kept holding mine to sleep after…but…”
The glass in his hand fell to the ground, shattering as he froze in place, eyes wide open in shock. 
“…it was not…not the same…” you mumbled before losing consciousness, your body going limp against your pillow, before starting to snore.
______________________________________________________________ Pssssst, you liked it ? P2 is already up here :) https://www.tumblr.com/cordidy/770227784125677568/a-few-days-ago-i-wrote-this?source=share
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pathologicalreid · 5 months ago
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come a little closer | s.r.
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in which you and Spencer have sex for the first time since his release from prison, and more importantly, since Cat told him what happened in Mexico
margotober masterlist
who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: smut (18+ mdni) content warnings: mentions sexual assault, spoilers for season 12 of cm, fingering, unprotected p in v sex, crying during sex, cockwarming, explicit consent, not really softdom but reader has spencer take the lead, read with care word count: 2.65k a/n: this bad boy has been in the works for MONTHS. please tell me if you like it i'm so desperate for affirmation. (also this is the last kinktober post of margotober)
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His hands on your waist were becoming firmer in their placement as Spencer continued pressing his lips to yours, expertly slipping his tongue into your mouth as he managed to take your breath away.
This could be as far as you went, and you would be content with that. After prison, after Mexico, you were grateful that he let you in at all. You were sleeping in the same bed at night, he was home for the month, teaching forensic psychology at a private university in the district. “Are you okay?” You whispered against his lips.
You were sat on the edge of the bed, and he was standing between your legs. “Yes,” he responded, continuing his motions.
In the past few weeks, you have found yourself in this situation three times. The first two times he had called it off, being too overwhelmed by fractured memories of his time in Mexico. The last time, you asked him to stop when you got stuck in your head, too anxious to remember that you were supposed to be enjoying it.
Today, you were tired. Too tired to think about anything other than the feeling of his lips on yours. You couldn’t control the whimper that escaped your throat as he gently tugged at your bottom lip with his teeth.
He pulled away slightly, eyes studying your face quickly before he asked, “That was good right? The noise?”
Your chest ached at the recognition that he had been left with so much self-doubt that he didn’t even know if what he was doing was right. Nodding confidently, you peered up at him through your eyelashes, “Yeah, that was good. I liked that,” you assured him.
It felt like the first time. As if you hadn’t had sex together multiple times and spent the past several years learning what the other liked. “What do you want me to do?”
“Take the lead,” you implored, looking at him. You couldn’t tell him what to do, at the very core of your actions, this was about him. This was about what he needed to do. You could always tell him to stop, but if he asked you to change something, you’d move heaven and earth to make him comfortable.
You just wanted to make him feel comfortable. The way you could feel his heart pounding in his chest, made you wonder if he was going to call it off. You had to bite your tongue from asking if he was alright, you needed to trust that he would tell you if anything was wrong.
Surprising you, he deftly slipped his hands beneath your t-shirt, pulling the soft fabric off of your torso in one quick movement. He used the pads of his fingers to lightly skim your bare body, causing goosebumps to spread across your skin. You kept yourself quiet, looking up at him as he studied you with wonder in his gaze, “You’re so pretty.”
If you hadn’t been hyper-aware of your surroundings, you might’ve missed the compliment. “I love you,” you breathed, chest tightening in a nauseating mixture of adoration and nervousness.
“I love you too,” he responded easily to you, his large hand placed firmly on your ribcage while his other planted itself on the mattress, maintaining his balance as his head craned forward to kiss you.
Your hand shook as you thumbed the hem of his shirt, moving your lips against his as you waited for him to cue you. The catch there was Spencer could spend hours kissing you without needing anything more. Your other hand rested softly on his collarbone, a non-sensual location where you were still touching him, but it wasn’t an intimate touch, at least, not in a sexual sense. It was an intimate touch in the sense that you were using the soft pressure of your palm to reassure him that you were here.
Spencer’s hand on your side gently pushed your back down to the mattress, once the fabric of the sheets was touching your skin, you eyed him curiously as he took his shirt off of his own volition. Better food and a considerably less stressful living situation had brought him back to life, and the haunted look that he came home to you with had faded over the months.
He stepped back from the mattress, and before you could figure out what he was doing, he took your thighs in his hands and moved you so your body was entirely on the bed, and you thought that the laugh that came from you as he moved you would be the end. Clamping your hand over your mouth, you looked up at him with wide eyes. “I’m sorry,” you whispered to him, mortified.
Shaking his head, Spencer smiled and climbed up on the bed with you, “No,” he breathed, hovering over you, “Do it again.”
This time a nervous laugh bubbled through your throat, “What?”
He dropped a soft kiss to your lips before pushing himself back up on his arms, “I just want this to feel normal. It’s sex, there’s no need to be so procedural about it.”
You stared up at him while nodding, “Okay,” you affirmed, reaching a hand up and fiddling with the hair at the nape of his neck. There was no procedure available to you. There was no pamphlet that could readily guide you on being intimate with your formerly imprisoned boyfriend after a serial killer let him know that she had arranged his sexual assault in a foreign country.
The best thing you could think to do was let him take the lead. He was the one who had initiated this, and you were more than willing to follow.
Spencer deftly pulled your underwear and shorts down together, guiding your legs out of the extraneous fabric before he paused. His arm looped around your leg, effectively hugging your calf as he rested his chin on your knee, heady eyes looking at you before he spoke, “Oh, angel,” he murmured, “My memory never does you justice.”
Your stomach flipped at his words, your hips adjusting on the sheets as he detached himself from your leg and returned to his station above you, this time with you fully nude beneath him. “Then it’s a good thing I’m right here,” you murmured, giving him a slice of comfort with a double meaning.
His hand skimmed down your chest, resting his palm on your lower belly before he looked back up at you, brown eyes meeting yours, “May I touch you?”
Breathlessly, you nodded, “Yes,” you told him, verbalizing your answer. Reinforcing your response as his hand slid further down, cupping your heat with his hand, his index finger slipping between your folds.
He didn’t break eye contact with you as he gently rubbed you, his unpracticed hand quickly gaining confidence as your lips parted and your breath quickened. You hadn’t considered how quickly your orgasm would build up, but for as long as it’s been for him, it’s also been for you.
His finger slid into you slowly, his eyes watching you carefully with every slight movement, and a soft moan escaped from your throat at the sensation of his finger knuckle deep in you, feeling miles further than your own fingers could ever reach. Lifting your head up, you brought your mouth to his, moving your lips slowly against his, moaning into his mouth as he withdrew his finger, slipping it back in with ease. There were no words that you could find that would accurately explain the amalgamation of emotions that were rushing through you right now, but the way you were kissing Spencer portrayed them perfectly.
Spencer hummed against your lips, delicately adding a second finger to his ministrations, the stretch of your pussy around his hand causing your back to lift off the bed. He started thrusting his fingers in and out of you, a gentle but firm pace that took away your ability to focus on kissing him, letting your head drop to the pillows.
“Oh, Spencer,” you breathed, the knot building in your lower belly causing your head to spin. “Spence,” you panted his name, “You’re gonna— ah.” You screwed your eyes shut for just a moment before opening them again, meeting his as you whispered, “Please, please, please.”
Your incessant begging only came to an end when your orgasm finally took you under the influence of dopamine, walls clenching around his fingers as he worked you through the waves of pleasure coursing through you. “You’re so pretty,” Spencer mused, his words taking you slightly by surprise as his hand withdrew from your cunt.
You sighed dazedly up at him, reaching up a hand to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear, “I love you,” you whispered, looking up at him with wonder in your eyes.
The lopsided smile he gave you was all you needed to know that all was well, and the kiss that he dropped on your lips elicited the same feeling. “I love you too,” he muttered against your lips, keeping himself propped above you.
Parting your lips with curiosity, you struggled to find the words to ask him. “I want… Can we…” you tried, but everything fell short as your eyes searched his desperately.
Spencer took his lower lip between his teeth, and you knew that if he called it off, you would be more than happy with the progress that you’d made. You’re surprised when he responds, “I need you to say it. I need you to ask.”
“Would you like to have sex with me?” You asked him, there was a tentative note in your voice that seemed to bring him comfort. A sort of cumulative blanket of uncertainty over the moment that you were sharing.
Spencer nodded in response “Yes,” he said, giving you a verbal answer.” He didn’t take another moment to think about it before he moved off of the bed, your eyes followed him curiously as he hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his pants and underwear, dropping them both to the floor in one fell swoop. “Yes,” he repeated.
With every ounce of self-control in you failing, you eyed his cock. Standing at attention, the tip was leaking pre-cum and he looked almost painfully hard, your lips gaped at the sight, “Oh.”
Finding his way back to the bed, he held himself above you, not touching you at all as his head tilted to the side, “Are you sure this is what you want?”
“Yeah, I am,” you looked up at him. “It’s just been a while,” you breathed, letting your nerves show through in the hopes that it would ease both of your minds.
He smiled softly at you, understanding clear in his expression, “We’ll go slow, okay?”
His use of the word we made your chest tighten, a recognition of your nerves as much as his. “Okay,” you breathed, opening your legs slightly wider for him and placing your hands on either one of his shoulders.
Biting on your lower lip, your eyes flittered down to where his hand was positioning his cock at your entrance, the soft skin of his tip swiping over your clit as he found his mark, pushing just the tip inside, and giving the both of you the time you needed to adjust. You moved your gaze back up to his face, studying him intently as you did so. As sure as he seemed, you wouldn’t put it past him to push through something if that’s what he thought you wanted.
“Take your time,” you whispered, trying to reassure him without it being overbearing, your breathing hitched when he pushed in more. Somehow, at only about half of his length, he felt impossibly deep in you.
Making eye contact again, Spencer watched your expression, “I’ve got you,” he said, dropping soft kisses to your lips, one after the other.
You nodded, keeping your eyes on his to the best of your ability, “I’m okay, we’re okay.”
Your words gave him the confidence to push into you, fully sheathing himself inside of you, and breaking eye contact. His head dropped into the crook of your neck, groaning against the soft skin as you tried to adjust yourself with the sheer amount of pressure between your legs.
Taking a deep breath, you froze at the realization that tears were falling onto your skin, the nearly inaudible drip of them on your neck and the pillow behind you spreading an icy feeling through your veins. “Spence,” you whispered, combing your fingers through his hair while you felt his dick twitch inside of you.
He didn’t respond, not verbally at least, producing a low hum.
“How are you doing?” You asked him softly, trying to stop your walls from clenching around him while he was clearly having a moment. “We can stop if you need to,” you murmured, continuing to play with his hair.
Slowly, he pushed himself up on shaky arms and kissed you, tasting of salty tears and bitter coffee. As his lips coaxed yours open, he moved his hips, gently filling you as he did so.
Tears pricked at your own eyes as you realized that he was being as gentle with you as you were with him. It had been six months since you last opened up to each other like this.
“I missed you,” he muttered, pulling his head back so that he could watch where your bodies were joined, his shaft covered in your slick as he thrust in and out.
You already knew that he’d missed you while he was away, but he specifically missed this. The feeling of baring your soul to another person, and this time around it all felt that much rawer. It broke your heart while simultaneously putting it back together. “I missed you too,” you whimpered, forcing the words out while he found a steady rhythm.
His thrusts were still slow, but they were hard, pushing himself as deeply into your cunt as he could go. “You’re so good for me,” he said, grunting as he kept moving, “Fuck it’s— Can I cum in you?”
Nodding frantically, you met his eyes again. “Yeah,” you breathed, a sharp moan torn from your throat as he moved up, changing the angle ever so slightly as he continued fucking into you. “Oh,” you gasped, as your eyes rolled back at the sensation of him spilling himself into you, his sloppy thrusts sending you over that same edge.
You couldn’t make sense of whatever he was mumbling while his hips stuttered to a stop, leaving himself firmly planted inside of you. He rested his head on your shoulder, his body lying on top of yours.
Once you remembered how to breathe, your hands made their way back to his head, fingers combing through his hair. “Are you alright?” You asked him, seeking out a final confirmation that he was, in fact, okay.
He hummed in response, “I’m great,” he said, “I’m really really… in love with you.”
Startled, a light giggle escaped your lips, “I’m really really in love with you too,” you responded, mimicking his intonation.
“You’re so perfect for me,” he murmured, coveting you in a way that made you feel like the luckiest girl in the world. As far as you were concerned, you were the luckiest girl in the world.
Sighing, one of your hands fell to his arm and you closed your eyes, ready to fall asleep like this, with him still tucked into you.
Your other hand remained up, playing with his hair, “You’re gonna make me sleep,” he said, a half-complaint, really.
“That’s okay,” you whispered, knowing that eventually someone would get up and turn off the lights, but right now, you’d rather stay with him. Right now, that was the only thing that mattered to you.
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prettyboykatsuki-moved · 6 months ago
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call it quits or call it destiny | h. umemiya.
✮ tags ; afab + fem!reader(she/her pronouns, referred to as a girl, gets dressed up by tsubaki and kotoha), reader gets their hair braided (no desc of texture) and puts on makeup, lore heavy reader backstory + personality, deliquent!reader, gap moe, best friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, themes of insecurity, mutual pining,the use of she/her for tsubaki, jealousy, confessions, loss of virginity, creampies / unprotected sex, oral (f!recieving), fingering, 18+
✮ wc ; 13.9k (dont. don't say anything)
✮ a/n ; me when i completely lose my mind because i have a weekend off. whats wrong with me.
anyways. there's no major triggers for this but be forewarned reader is meant to be very rag-tag deliquent type. she has a strong personality and generally is not feminine. she is like a mangy street cat a bit. also if u want u should listen to easily by bruno major while reading.
✮ synopsis ; you've been quietly pining for umemiya for a little over ten years with no plans of confessing.
you did not have a plan for what you would do if umemiya confessed to you first.
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Once a day, everyday - Umemiya will come into your store, pause, smile, and confess his love to you before going off on his own.  
And once a day, everyday, you reject this confession with a soft huff  telling him to quit being stupid before shooing him away.  
It's become a ritual. A fixture in your daily routine that you're not allowed to ignore despite how hard you're trying.  
He's been doing it for three months, more or less. 
His reason for confessing everyday? Because he’s waiting on the day you confess back, of course. Which you've refused to do for the last few months and will continue to refuse for as long as you’ve got.  
It's not because you don't like him, alright? 
You've known Umemiya since middle school and you've liked him for about the same time. One of the core memories of your childhood is the day you met him, crying while sitting on a  swing-set, after what felt like the worst day of your life. 
( On the day you run away from home, you seriously consider not going back.  
You don’t really know how long you sit there. People walk by but most of them move on quickly. It’s mid-day before anyone bothers to stop and ask you something.  
 "I've never seen you around  before.” A strange looking boy approaches, friendly and unassuming but not entirely cheerful “Did you just move here?"  
You keep quiet, closing your eyes and hoping your lack of response is enough to push him away. Your hope fizzles out when you hear the swing creak as he sits besides you. 
"I'm Umemiya Hajime. I live close by." His voice is airy and causal. "I'm sorry you're having a bad day.”  
"Fuck off," You reply bluntly, frowning. “I don’t need sympathy. Leave me the hell alone.”  
He pauses before pushing himself slightly forward to barely swing.  
“I couldn’t leave you alone while you’re sad,” He voices willfully. "It might make you feel better to talk about it." 
In disbelief at his response, you finally look up and asses him properly. It doesn’t do much to change your initial unfavorable impression. White hair, blue eyes and a little taller than you. You’re definitely about the same age. All of that to say, there’s something weird about him that you can’t quite place.  
Despite his manner and way of speaking though, you don’t actually think he’s that weak which makes his whole aura even more unnerving to you. His attempt at being non-threatening doesn’t work for him. He’s being a real try-hard about trying to make you comfortable… 
Either way, he’s got an air about him that puts you on the defensive.  
 Talking to someone about it had never been much of any option, and somehow it pisses you off that he’s being so brazen about it.  
Maybe if you tell him about, he’ll stop prying into your business. Or maybe you’re just looking for excuses to let off steam. 
You don't care anymore. You wipe your nose with the back of your sleeve.  
"I don't live here and I didn’t move. I ran away." You reply.  
He keeps looking at you, curious, inquisitive and sympathetic.  
"Why?"   
"I broke a girls nose." You scowl. The words rise up in your throat like bile. Make you feel cornered. The wounds too fresh. "It—she bullied me for years for one. And I never fought back, it was all petty bullshit anyway and I didn't like getting calls home. I didn't care about that but she—it wasn't for nothing. She was causing trouble for Sensei."  
Umemiya keeps to himself, humming in response to your troubles. Your voice breaks on your next sentence, chest tightening.  
"It doesn't matter what she does to me but—" Your hands ball up at your first. Your throat feels thick, eyes suddenly watering as your chest throbs . "Anyway, I couldn’t let it go like normal."  
He hums. "So you hit her?" 
You shake your head, sniffling. "Not at first. Just told her to shut up. Said that she didn't know what she was talking about. She hit me first..." You screw your eyes shut, sighing. "...said she was gonna spread rumors about him just trying to get under my skin and be malicious,” You lean back slightly and look up towards the gray sky. “I punched her after that."  
You realize he's looking at your bloodied knuckles, but he isn't making an expression that you can read easily. You don’t remember the last time you spoke to someone like this who wasn’t Tsukimori-sensei.  
"Are you crying because you got in trouble?"  
“Who cares about that?” You sigh “Sensei had to put his job on the line and take responsibility for me,” Your brow furrows in frustration. “He’s the one person I don’t want to cause trouble for,” You grip the iron chains of the swing set with a closed fist and finally admit what you’ve been avoiding to say out loud. “I don’t want him to hate me…”  
The kid besides you smiles  absently at your words. Half-way between listening and recalling something else, it seems like. You can’t help but wonder what the hell his deal is. You barely know him but you’re spilling your guts. 
He speaks after a long while. "I don't think he sees it that way. I think you should try to talk to him about it."  
You make a face, rejecting the idea. "What? No way." 
Umemiya shrugs, smiling - though it doesn't quite meet his eyes.  
"He sounds like he cares about you. If he knew your reasons, there's no way he would hold it against you. And it’s important to share your burdens with people who care for you." You look over and see him smiling somberly at the mulch beneath his shoes before returning back to what you’ve grown to know as his usual self. "Anyways, I think we should be friends. Tell me your name."  
You sniffle again. What a weird guy. Well you say that but 
You still give him your name. 
"What a pretty name," 
When you tell him to shut up again, your new friend Umemiya just laughs.  
And you find you feel just a little bit lighter.)  
That night, Umemiya walked with you to take the last train and told you to come see him again  with good news. 
You aren't sure what compelled you to follow his advice. Maybe because he was the first person who sat down and listened to you about it other than Sensei himself. 
Tsukimori-sensei was your school counselor and the only adult in your entire life that seemed to worry about. You didn't have any friends in middle school and you were a scary looking delinquent girl without a mother and a mostly absent father.  
But Sensei was always incredible gentle to you and incredibly kind. And despite what rumors that girl tried to spread  - he was never anything more than an important mentor.  
It was fucking embarrassing crying in front of him but because you were honest - you got to keep in touch with him. He attended your middle school and high school graduation - supporting you as you started to sort your life out. Became the closest thing you ever really got to a parental figure.  
Over time, you got close with Umemiya and developed strong loyalty to him. You attended an all-girls middle and high school the next town over - totaling one other friend in all six years of your remaining education. Lack of socialization meant that Umemiya somewhat became the very center of your existence. 
It was easy to visit him thanks to parental neglect. You sort of melted into his life. Tsubaki once called you his guard dog as a half-joke, but there's some truth to the sentiment. Quick to defend, quick to heel, and always happy to see him.  
You, like many people, owe Umemiya a lot. His meddling over the course of ten years gave you reason to push forward. He even encouraged you to try and attend school and not give up on living a half-decent life. 
You've got a never-ending list of short-comings but being with him didn't make you hate yourself. It made you want to be better because you knew Umemiya would accept you for whoever you decided to be.  
So despite your delinquency, you managed to graduate high school. Post-graduation, you attended a vocational culinary school and became a patisserie before moving to Furin for permanent residency. You opened a bakery and supply bread to Kotoha-chans diner.  
You made something of your life mostly 'cause of Umemiya. He's not your only friend anymore but he's still your best. Even though you never really pictured things like dating or romance - in some way it only makes sense that it'd be that meddling, kind-hearted idiot that you end up falling for it.  
Lovesickness aside, you respect Umemiya more than anyone in your personal life.  
He’s stuck around with someone like you this long after all. That means a lot to you.  
Somehow the two of you mesh well despite being totally opposite.  
You decided as soon as you realized it sometime in high school that you'd keep your feelings a secret for the rest of your life. You had a strong resolve in your beliefs about the whole thing which made it easy. You hid 'em so well even Sakura's stupid accurate romance detector didn't uncover them.  
When you picture Umemiya's future - it was easy to picture the kind of woman he would end up with. Another kind-hearted idiot like him, a social butterfly. Someone a little softer.  
In any case it definitely was not you. You didn't need it to be. You've received so much from him already, you never entertained the idea. Plus, Umemiya has dated other people over the years, so in your head there was never any hope to cling onto.  
For all reasons listed above, a requited romance is at the very bottom of your expectations.  
That's why you've been in this fucking conundrum.  
To say it was a complete shock to you when Umemiya openly confessed to you many months ago would be understatement of the goddamn century.  
He confessed right on the last day of Spring, totally out of the blue. 
(It’s a little unusual for Umemiya to call you at this hour. If it were anyone else, you’d be a little upset since you’ve gotta be up around four-am to get prepared for the day.  
It’s him though so you’re particularly tolerant, yawning as you find Umemiya on a familiar swing-set, still wearing your PJ’s.  
"Why am I out here in the middle of the night with you?"  
Your words lack any real malice as you sit down. Umemiya remains totally quiet. It's unusual for him to not immediately go on a tangent upon seeing you.  
"Oi. Earth to Hajime." You frown at him. "Did ya get beat up before coming here and scramble your brain? Give me the popsicle before it melts."  
He looks over at you and chuckles as he hands you the bag from the convenience store. You ignore his odd behavior and open up said popsicle before it melts  - carefully splitting it down the middle and giving him the bigger side before going to town on your own. He takes it from you but doesn't even bring it up to his mouth.  
Weird.  
"Did something... happen? Like seriously happen?" You take a long lick of your iced treat. It's melon flavored, your favorite. "Seeing you frown doesn't feel right. Gives me the heebie-jeebies."  
He cracks a little smile at that. It makes you feel better. He shakes his head.  
"Mm, nothing happened. I just have something I want to tell you."  
You nod in understanding. "'kay. Take your time."  
He blinks, surprised.  
"Hm? Aren't you gonna scold me for wasting your time?"  
"Nah. Whatever it is must be serious if it's making you all introspective or whatever. 's fine. Bring me coffee tomorrow and I'll forgive ya."  
His lip twitches up. "I l really like that about you."  
You feel yourself flush and wave a hand at him. "Ahh, shut up."  
He pauses for a second then shakes his head. "Mm. It's more like I like everything about you, actually."  
You twist your face in confusion. "What are you on about now?"  
"That's what I came here to tell you." Umemiya says after a deep breath. He says it so casually you wonder if you're mishearing him - leaning back to look up at the stars. "I really, really like you. I just felt like I had to tell you that"  
You stare at him in disbelief.  
"Wha—huh?"  
He doesn't even flinch as he repeats it.  
"I like you."  
"No the hell you don't."  
He furrows his brow with a light laugh. "I just told you that I do, silly."  
"But that's—" You don't say the word impossible. You really want too, but you know exactly how he would react if you did. You simply shake your head. "No, you don't." 
"I thought you might respond like this so don't worry but how about you?" He shrugs then looks at you intently. "I thought you might like me too."  
Your eyes go wide. Oh fuck.  
You feel like a deer caught in headlights. You know you should be happy about this, deep down. That'd be the normal response.  
But you just feel complicated as shit instead. Fuck does he mean? Umemiya.... likes you? There's just no way that's true. Not after all of this time. And how the fuck does he know you like him back when you've been keeping it in? 
You can't bring yourself to look him in the face and lie. Your heart rises to your throat as you shakily stand to your feet.  
"Stop...thinking whatever you've been thinking. I'm going home." You reply in complete panic. 
 The minute you say it, you turn on your heel so you don't have to look at his face. You don’t even want to know.  
And before Umemiya can catch you and try to talk it out, you bolt. 
What the fuck was that?)  
For the last few months, you've been avoiding the topic of conversation as much as you humanly can.  
The possibility of Umemiya even just accepting your feelings was already far beyond your imagination, but him returning them? Confessing first? That wasn't even in your realm of possibility.  
Ever since then, you've been losing your mind trying to force your life and train of thought to go back to normal. You’ve done all of the math on it.  
Realistically, you can't ignore him. Your lives are so mixed together it'd be impossible unless you went under protection and changed your name which you briefly considered. You thought of turning him down but you’re pretty sure you wouldn’t be able to actually do it despite how good you are at keeping it in. Either way, your best option logistically is feigning ignorance and trying to keep the whole thing out of your mind entirely which should've been easy.  
Tricking yourself into believing the whole thing was a dream? Lightwork.  
Except. Except.  
Umemiya just won't give up.  
He confesses to you again every single day. Worse, he doesn't care whose around to hear him. No one in your friend group seems even the tiniest bit shocked by it which doesn't help the situation. You can't get used to it, can't get used to him being so fucking cheeky as he stops you midway through normal conversation to tell you he loves you.  
He's persistent to a fault and while you've done well feigning immunity - you can't survive like this.  
You've graduated to tell him to go away and treating the whole thing like some big joke.  
But honestly? 
You're avoiding having a proper conversation about it. Umemiya is especially keen in not letting you forget that. And determined to make you confess.  
But you're not going to to let him sway you.  
You've got principles, after all.  
__  
After you close up shop on Friday, you get dressed to attend a kickback with all of your friends.  
It's a barbecue technically - commemorating the end of summer. Togame is really into grilling and in their weird domestic partnership, Chouji really enjoys hosting. They've done this once or twice a year ever since they started living together.  
Once you've finished cleaning up the store, you take the train to Kotoha's place - mistakenly assuming you'd leave as soon as you got there. However you failed to realize that Tsubaki and Kotoha would be getting ready together.  
You got jumped as soon as you walked through the door - so now you're wearing a different pair of clothes that Tsuabki got for you and waiting for them to finish getting you dressed up so you can leave.  
Tsuabkino is inches from your face while Kotoha braids your hair. You feel itchy and exposed but with both of them here there's no way you're going to get out of wearing it. 
"Can we just go?" You grumble, not enjoying the feeling of being poked and prodded.  
"No," Tsubaki insists, frown making her expression pinch. "You have half an eyelash on. Sit still." 
"He'll be happy to see you dressed up," Kotoha adds, trying to encourage you. You frown and look down.  
"Whatever. I don't care about makin' him happy."  
The both of them pause and stare at you until you fold under the pressure - screwing your eyes shut and making you flush.  
“Such a blatant lie.”  
Tsubaki giggles. “Right?”  
Your face feels hot. "Ahhh, alright already. Shut up."  
"Honest girls are much cuter," Tsubaki coos. You give her a half-assed glare.  
"Don't you like Hajime? Why're you trying to set me up with him still?" You mumble. You always think they’d make a perfect pair.  
"Of course I like him. He's my prince." She smiles at you. “But it’s a little different to how a certain someone loves him. And well, if you knew the way he looked at you…"  
You frown, feeling hot all the way up to your ears as you ball your fists up and look down at your lap. "Whatever." 
"You should stop trying to worm your way out of it," Kotoha adds, much less sweetly. "You know how he is. He couldn't give up on you for ten years like some idiot."  
You blink. "Huh? But ten years would mean -"  
Kotoha braids your hair even tighter making you wince. "I know. You're both stupid like that."  
"Don't be mean, Kotoha-chan. And you, be a little more honest, okay?"  
You sigh deeply. 
"Ain't like anything is gonna happen either way. I already told you both I'm not accepting his confession," 
"Cause you're a huge wuss, yeah we know."  
You elbow Kotoha lightly.  
"Maybe nothing will," Tsubaki hums mischievously.  "But it feels nice to dress up for him, right?"  
You pretend the thought doesn't make your hear flutter.  
Tsubaki does you the kindness of laughing lightly before moving on. 
__  
You arrive to the function an hour later than planned and stick mostly with Kotoha and Tsubaki until half way through the evening.  
Loosening up with a few drinks, the three of you part ways to catch-up with different people. It's not rare you see them, but it's not often everyones schedules allow them to be in the same place.  
Lucky for you, Umemiya does you the courtesy of not confessing during the first half of the night before food comes out.  
(Though you do spit beer in his face after he calls you pretty, which he takes on the chin after cleaning up.)  
After dinner, the function simmers down significantly. People quietly break off into groups and chat to each other into the late night. About that time people split whatever desserts they brought among guests.  
You brought cookies and something specifically for Chouji and Togame as thanks for hosting.  
Towards the end of the night, you find yourself sticking sort of close to Umemiya. Though he's having his own one-on-one conversation with Hiragi while sitting next to you , turned the other way.  
You busy yourself catching up to Suo, Sakura and Nirei - all of whom you consider yourself close to.  
Of them, you're the closest to Nirei which always surprises people. 
The kids a total wimp but he helped you years ago study to graduate so you're a little closer to him than everyone else. He's a great guy though and you hang out alone sometimes too.  
The conversations gone far left at this point in the evening.  
Suo leans back against his chair and looks toward Sakura besides him with a lazy smile.  
"Sakura-chan would make a great wife." 
You snort listening to them bicker. Sakura grows beet red, throwing an empty beer can at Suo's head that he catches gracefully.  
"Go die."  
"What? You're good at domestic work and you have a cute side, Isn't that all you need?"  
"Shut up. I'll kill you."  
As Suo breaks out into laughs, Sugishita comes down from the kitchen just in time to catch the argument. He crinkles his nose up.  
"Oh, Sugishita-kun. 'Sup."  
He nods to your greeting as he leans against the wood railing of the outdoor deck.  
"What the hell are you two talking about?" 
'What? You mean about Sakura being a good wife?" Suo asks. Sugishita crinkles his nose. 
"Don't phrase it so repugnantly but yeah I guess." 
"We were talking about marriage 'cause I was complaining at work."  
"What's happening at work?" 
Nirei sighs as he lays it out again to Sugishita after having given the spiel to the three of you once.  
"One of my superiors at work is a lot older than me and keeps bringing up marriage," Nirei explains woefully. "It's all he talks about. He thinks I'm seeing someone."  
Sugishita frowns. "Eh? What gave him that impression?"  
A good question you hadn't considered asking.  
You raise your brow at Nirei who laughs awkwardly while he holds your gaze.  
"You know that picture of us from highschool? When he came to the cafe at your school festival?"  
You smile spitefully, crinkling your nose in faux distaste. "The one wear we wearing those stupid maid costumes?"  
"Yup. That's the one. It's a good picture of us so I keep it on my desk and he saw it so..."  
"You keep a picture of just the two of you on your desk? No wonder he got that impression.” Suo adds.  
You sense Umemiya suddenly tense which you find weird. He's still talking to Hiragi though when you glance from the corner of your eye. You brush it off.  
Nirei blushes, elbowing him.  
"Shut up. I've got group pictures and stuff too. But he just singled out that one cause you know,"  
You nod in understanding before it dawns on you. Your eyes widen. "Oh, shit? Does that old man think you're dating me?"  
Nirei closes his eyes and sighs. "He won't even let me correct him." 
You pause before breaking out into genuine laughter.  
"Pfft, that's terrible." You reply sympathetically, taking a sip of your beer before giving a mischievous grin. "Maybe you can make it work for you though, eh? Tell 'em we got hitched forreal and then I'll call you on the phone and nag you to get home for dinner so you can leave earlier."  
Nirei acts like he's touched making you laugh even harder. "You'd do that for me?"  
You give him another toothy grin. "I'll even help you fake some wedding photos. We'll be accomplices." You lean back with a shrug. "You gotta wear the dress though." 
Sugishita laughs at that. "You being a blushing bride is a little..."  
You snort, shooting him a dirty look "Shut up."  
"Deal. Not a bad plan honestly." Nirei says with a sigh. "Whatever gets me out of the office early."  
"Even if that means being married to me?" You joke.  
He smiles at you. "Aw, what do you mean? That's the best part."  
You chuckle at him good-natuedly and the conversation quickly moves on.  
The alcohol is starting to make you dizzy so you eventually tune out as the four of them talk, glancing at Umemiya from the corner of your eye.  
You swear you catch a glimpse of his jaw ticking.  
__  
For the rest of the night, Umemiya is off.  
No one else can tell. You know that because the atmosphere remains light until everyone leaves around two-am. There's no blips or tension, no awkward pauses. 
But you know Umemiya. He's been real weird all night and it's bugging the shit out of you.  
It's a well past two now, and you've just left the late night cab you took with him. Umemiya lives close so he's walking you home.  
He's usually energetic after a get-together like that so his dead silence is weirding you out. You're pretty good at figuring his feelings out but for once you feel totally clueless.  
It feels as if even the cicadas and crickets have gone to sleep. There's nothing bu the streetlights overhead and soft glow of the moon, coupled with the soft click of your shoes on the pavement. Occasionally, a car will pass by.  
At one point, it becomes too much. There's still a few minutes until you're home.  
You stop in the middle of the sidewalk and turn around to look at him. Umemiya pauses, startled as he stops with you, and doesn't smile which only makes your concern worsen.  
"Oi. What's up with you?"  
"Hm?"  
You cross your arms over your chest.  
"Don't 'hm' me. You've been in a bad mood few for the last few hours. It's gonna bug me all night if I don't ask, so what's up?"  
He stares at you.  
"You noticed?"  
"How could I not notice?"  
"I was hiding it pretty well, I thought." He states more than asks, half-smile on his face.  
"Yeah. But well," You shrug. "I'm always looking at you for better or for worse. So. What's wrong?"  
He stares at you a long time before sighing, running his fingers through his hair. You've never seen him like this. You've seen him pissed off before, seen him mildly irritated - but never this... pouty? It's not like he's pissed.  
He's quiet, taking a deep breath of cool night air before sliding his hands into his pockets and taking a good look at your face. 
"Do you know that I like you?"  
Your eyes widen as you blink wildly.  
This is what he wants to talk about? 
He pins you down with his stare, hands in his pockets and intense as ever.  
"Don't even think about bolting this time, okay? I'm asking you seriously. Do you?" 
Your eyes flicker down the concrete - feeling extremely uncomfortable and suddenly sweaty. You shrug, unsure of what else you could say or do.  
"Hard not to know." You mumble. "You tell me everyday." 
"But do you get it?"  
Your frown deepens.  
"Of course not. How could I possibly get something like that, stupid?"  
He takes a deep breath. "But you like me, don't you?"  
Panic sets in. If you could sink straight into the Earth you would.  
"...Never said that." 
He calls your name quietly. "Look at me, at least. Stop running away from me and just look." 
You know you're being stubborn but you can't help it. You've kept it a secret for ten years and all of a sudden he wants you to tell him you like him? You've held it in for so long already and he's telling you not to run away.What other choice is there?  
One wrong move move and everything will come crashing down inside of you. You can't even lie about it either.  
Damn it.  
"I won't look." Your voice is warbly and it makes you feel so pathetic you could die, tucking your chin petulantly "Don't wanna,"  
Umemiya frowns at you.  
"If you say you don't like me I'll let it go."  
You remain very quiet and close your eyes tighter. He sighs softly, making your chest hurt.  
After a minute, you muster up the courage to be dishonest - determined to drop it at all costs. You're slow as you pick your head up.  
"I don't like you," You repeat slowly, carefully - trying not to stumble the words. "So quit it, alright?"  
He laughs humorlessly and holds your gaze.  
"That's the first time you've ever actually lied to me. You're terrible at it," 
"I'm not lying." You snap. Umemiya smiles somberly when he sees tears on the corners of your eyes. He steps closer to you. You freeze. When his hand reaches cups your cheek, you feel your legs lose all their strength and close your eyes. You're terrified to even look at him, not wanting him to see what you know is obvious on your face.  
He wipes them as he tilts your face towards him slowly. 
"Tell me, at least. If you're going to refuse me, don't I deserve to know why? Do you hate the idea of dating me that much?"  
You shake your head. "Stupid. How would anyone hate that?"  
"So I deserve to know why you're turning me down."  
A long moment of silence draws you out of your feelings. You guess that's fair enough. Maybe this way he'll leave you alone  - as long you're clear about your reasons. He’s the earnest type after all.  
You manage to suck up all your tears and clear your throat enough to give him an explanation. 
You step back a little from him, putting some distance between you as you stare down at the sidewalk. 
"You know... I respect ya more than anyone else. You've always been someone I admire. And I uh, owe you a lot. So I only want the very best for you and all." You scratch your neck, taking a deep sigh. "For me... regardless of my feelings, I want you to be with someone who really fits, you know? Well put-together and everything. Someone that suits you better"  
He pauses before frowning.   
"Regardless of your feelings? Does that mean you were willingly pushing them aside?" He says distraught. "For how long?"  
You shrug, trying to lighten the conversation. It’s too devastating otherwise. "About ten years, give or take." 
The sheer distress in his face makes you want to keep talking, just he doesn’t look so disheartened. Like some explanation will clear things up.  
"It ain't a bad thing, Hajime. You've given me a lot and I'm serious when I say I want the best for you. I love you, if that's what you wanna hear. I'm content just being besides you as your friend." You say with a shrug. "I can be kinda selfish but there's a limit to my greed,yknow."  
He looks like he's in shock. 
"Wanting someone to love you back isn't greedy or selfish."  
You find you don't have anything to say with that, but hope he drops it for the time being. 
Umemiya stares at you seriously. It makes your breath hitch meeting his eyes, blue with all the depth in the world. You feel like you can't pull yourself from his gaze.  
"And there was never a possibility? Not once that I could've liked you? That I wanted to be with you?"  
"It doesn't matter." You say. "And no, it never crossed my mind.."  
"Stop saying it doesn't matter. Of course it matters. Your feelings matter the most so don't toss them aside so easily. Do you really believe that you're not right for me?"  
You aren’t sure how to answer him.  
"You think you're not good enough for me." He says with some realization more than asks.  
It's the first time you see his face change. When you look up, he looks well and truly angry. The whole thing is confusing.  
"I'm sorry," You say. It’s such a timid thing to say but you don’t know how else to fix.  
"It's not—I just don't like hearing you talk about yourself like that. I don't like hearing someone I love get spoken about like that.” 
You ignore the sentiment again and wait in the quiet. You always thought this would be an easier conversation to have but it hurts.  
He sighs a bit, getting closer to you again. He’s less upset than before but there’s something else in his expression.  
"You wanted to know why I was upset earlier right? It's because of you and Nirei-kun." He admits.  
"What about him?"  
"You talked about marrying him so casually. I overheard and it bothered me all night."  
Your eyes go wide.  
"I—it wasn't serious."  
"I know that. I never thought I was that childish either but you being married to someone else as a joke." He laughs humorlessly. "I really hated it. That’s why I asked if you know how much I like you."  
You feel frozen in place by his admission. 
Umemiya steps towards you faster than you can muster up a counter for why he shouldn’t bother.  
His arms around you feel sudden. His grip on you is so tight, like you could slip through his arms all at once if he loosens it. He smells like cologne and beer and summer but it's not unpleasant. He rests his chin on your head and lets out a deep breath.  
Your chest is throbbing for different reasons now. Shit. Shit, shit, shit.  
"If you won't be greedy, then you should at least let me be." He lets out a long, tense breath "At least let me have what I want." 
You're stuck. Your mouth moves faster than your brain.  
"Why me? And why now?"  
Umemiya pulls away to stare down at you. You can't bring yourself to turn away from him. 
"It was always you. I felt guilty... for wanting to you that way when you were a precious friend. Wanting to treat you delicately when you were strong and proud." He admits. Hearing him say that out loud embarrasses you to no end, “But it was those things that made me love you. Strong yet clumsy. Prideful yet honest. Awkward yet trying to be gentle. Loyal. And always considerate of everyone. Of me, when I was taking care of everyone else."  
Your stomach feels like it's going to erupt. You're losing your resolve faster than you know how to mend it.  
"Stop saying stuff like that."  
Umemiya holds you tighter and shakes his head. "No. How else will I get you to change your mind?"  
"I won't change my mind." You say stubbornly.  
"I love you." He repeats.  
You squirm.  
"Stop it,"  
"I want to be with you. I want to kiss you. I want to hold you. I want to stay by your side forever. I want to do things with you and make you feel good. I want to make you smile. I want to grow old with you." 
Your hearts fluttering. Fuck.  
"Idiot. What are you saying? Let me go."  
"It has to be you for me. I won't have anyone else no matter what you think. The person I love is you. I love you."  
"Hajime." Your voice is shaking. 
His drops down to a whisper.  
“I can’t change how you think of yourself overnight but I can tell you that there’s no point in trying to push me away. Whether or not you accept  me, we’ll never stop being side by side - so please stop fighting it.”  
You put your hands on his chest, trying to push him away. “Stop it,” 
"Please tell me it's okay to love you how I want too," He says, soft and doting while he crushes you in his arms. "And please love me in return."  
You put your hands up to your misty eyes wanting to wipe them away as he melts through the rest of your resolve like it's nothing. It's hard not to be moved. You've been pretending for ten long years that you don't love him at all and he's declaring his love for you like it's the easiest, most sensible and sane thing in the world.  
A kind-hearted, willful, meddling idiot. How you are you supposed to push him away when he's holding you this tight?  
"Shit," You voice, huffing as your voice shakes. "Don’t be stupid, alright? If you’re so insistent, I wont let you back out if you meet someone else."  
He laughs wetly.  
"I already tried meeting other people, but it's still you. Always was."  
He smiles above you. 6'2 with watery eyes with the look of pure relief like it's the best news he's ever heard in his life. It's too much for you. Your heart is racing so fast you wonder if you're gonna die.  
"Can I kiss you?" He asks.  
Your eyes go wide as you look away, not wanting to look too eager. "That's..."  
He makes another puppy-dog kinda face. "Please?"  
You're embarrassed by how easy it makes you give in. "...Do whatever you want."  
He laughs bright and warm as his hands slide up to cup your cheeks and kiss you with all the passion he can muster. It's intense, almost suffocating the way he slots his lips against yours and breathes you in. He doesn't let you up from it, doesn't part from you for a second even when he pulls away - noses brushing and stealing the air from your lungs.  
It's your stupid first kiss and it's perfect - so perfect you wonder if you're going to wake up in a dream. He kisses you hard and makes you stand on your toes to chase his lips when he pulls back. Elated. Ecstatic when you grasp the front of his shirt and keep kissing him when he stops. 
He pauses before littering your whole face with pecks even as you weakly protest, unable to stop frowning but feeling the happiest you've ever been.  
There's so much longing in between you, you feel like you could die. You feel helpless.   
"Can I come home with you?" He asks, once he stops - only holding your hand a short distance away. "I want more time together." 
You feel your skin burn hot as you nod, all while trying not to read too much into it. 
"Yeah."  
__ 
You barely get to lock your door behind you before Umemiya crowds you in the door way.  
His arms circle around your waist, chin resting against your shoulder.. Broad chest against your back, you try not to flounder as his warm voice caresses your ear.  
You're going to die young if he keeps this up.   
"I love you,"  
You flush. "Enough already. And let me go so I can wash up."  
"Do you need to sleep early? Thought you were closed tomorrow. Wanted to talk a little longer."  
You pause.  
"...Sleep?" 
"Hm?"  
You both freeze as the miscommunication dawns at the same time. You try to pull away from him as soon as you realize, skin burning hot. You're quick but Umemiya is quicker.  
"Hajime." You say gravely. "If you don't let me go, I'm gonna kill you."  
"No way," He laughs  as you attempt to wriggle out of his grasp. "Is that why you let me in? Were you expecting something?"  
"Shut up! Don't say anything, I swear I'll —"  
"Don't be like that, baby. I'm not making fun of you. Hey, turn around. Look at me."  
You're upset but you think the reason is more embarrassing then the feeling.  
"Don't wanna,"  
Umemiya laughs as he gently turns you around to face him. In your utter mortification, you can barely bring yourself to meet his gaze.  
"Stop staring."  
He doesn't.  
"Do you normally invite guys in just 'cause they ask?"  
"Wha—no! It's because it's you, stupid!"  
He smiles in satisfaction.  
"You shouldn't say yes so easily even if it is me. What if I took advantage of you?"  
You think he's just being smug for the sake of it, which is pissing you off. You grab him by the front of his shirt.  
"Fuck off. Maybe there's a reason I said yes."  
He pauses before his eyes widen. You push your hand against his mouth before he blurt anything else out but he's quick to pry your hand away.  
"Don't say it." You hiss.  
"I was planning on taking my time. I cherish you and I want to make sure you know that. I'm just a little surprised you’re moving so quick when you were telling me not too long ago."  
You can feel the tips of your ears growing hot, feeling even more self-conscious. "Whatever. If we're just going to sleep I still need to wash up."  
He keeps his arms behind your back so you can’t move.  
"Hey. Didn't say that. It's not like I don't want to do it with you. Just don't want you to regret anything."  
You give him an flat look. "I was prepared to give you my virginity and you're worrying about that. Unless you're planning on backing out, there's no way I would."  
"Your—" His jaw drops a little.  
You drop your voice down just a little close as you grab his collar.  
"If you get it, then hurry up and fuck me. Stupid Hajime."  
He gives you the dopiest smile you've ever seen while your face grows increasingly hot, leaning to in to press a kiss to your lips. He brushes his nose with yours. Laughter from deep in his chest.  
"Yes, ma'am."  
__ 
Once you give Umemiya permission to have you, you get the feeling that there really is no going back from here.  
You both know it. The tension in your bedroom is so thick you can barely breathe around it.  
Umemiya lands gently onto your bed - sitting up as he holds you by your waist and pulls you over to him. You're so aware of his touch it makes your nerves feel they're on fire. You're not a total virgin - at least not enough to be feeling this worked up over someones hands lingering on your waist.  
But they're Umemiya's hands—Hajime's hands, so you can't rationalize your thoughts of out it. His hands are strong and big, a little calloused and rough from the gardening and fighting. You can feel how much he adores you in a gesture so small it makes you concerned for your own heart thinking about how the rest of the night will go.  
He invites you into his lap gently, so pleased by the way you go to him so willingly. You spread yourself over him with your knees on either side of his thighs. He's big - wide and broad.  
Your barely hovering over his bulge as you lean your weight onto him. His hand barely brushes underneath your top, just barely touching the skin.  
You shiver.  
"Are you really sure this is what you want?" He asks. "I don't mind waiting as long as you need,"  
You give him an bored look. "Not very convincing when you're makin' a face like that,"  
He chuckles nervously. "That bad?"  
You nod before adding a little bashfully. "Dunno if I mind, though."  
He buries his fact against your chest all of a sudden making you jump.  
"The hell?"  
"You're so cute when you're honest like that," He mumbles into your chest, cheek pressed against your tits.  
"Jeez, shut up. What're you talking about?"  
Umemiya pulls back and leans forward - enough to breach the inches of space between you. Nose to nose, your eyes meet. A bated breath, you put your hand on his shoulders and work up the nerve to kiss him.  
It's chaste. Mostly for you to break the ice otherwise you're sure you're gonna pussy out.  
He smiles at you when you pull away.  
"See what I mean? So cute," He hums, and leans in again. "Come on. Kiss me again."  
Something about him is different when he tells you to kiss him. It's not smug or cheeky. But it's not casual either. Softness tinges his words, his touch - his whole demeanor screams like he loves you absolutely. It makes your heart rate pick up again, hands shaky as you try not to lose your nerve.  
He's restraining himself though. How he intense he could be vs how soft and calm he is being. You know Umemiya like the back of your hand so you want him to do what he wants. It's hard to find your voice.  
"You don't have to.." You cast your eyes down in embarrassment. "…hold back with me, either. I'm not some maiden."  
He smiles at you a little. "You really do know me better than anyone, huh? I was keeping it together pretty well."  
"Look I know I’m kinda difficult…I'm not real good with stuff like this either," You fidget with the collar of his shirt with your free hand. "But once I say yes I don’t back out. So don't worry about scaring me off or putting too much pressure on me or whatever. ...'s fine to just do what you feel like. I’m scared out of my mind but I wouldn’t do that to you,"  
“Don’t know how long it’ll take but I’ll do my best to make you feel secure. Might take some time but we’ve got our whole lives.” You flush at the implication. He smiles a little. "Whatever I want seems like a lot to give, though."  
"Well...depending on what, I'm might not be good at it,"   
He shakes his head. "I don't want anything like that."  
"What do you want then?"  
"You." He says easily. Your stomach flips. "All of you. I just want to make you feel so good you can't stand it. Want to worship you top to bottom. There's not a single part of you I don't want."  
You flush. "The hell... I meant like a blowjob or some shit."  
He laughs. "I know. And I want that too, another time." He hums, taking a deep breath. "Right now I just want you to feel so good for me. Is that okay?"  
You can't look at him. You can barely stand how bashful you're being, but you can't even play coy. Something in you is bursting at the seams.  
You love him so much you don't recognize yourself, or your voice, or how you're acting. It makes you sick but you can’t do anything but go with it. "Yeah. 's okay, if it's what you want."  
"It is," He says, leaning in. "All I've ever wanted."  
You ignore the latter half of his comment as he finally goes to kiss you again.  
He pulls your body close to him as you do. Until your chest to chest, arms wrapped around the span of his shoulders as you press your lips together soft and slow.  
He slides a hand underneath your top, undoing the clasp of your bra. He lets his palm stay on the center of your back while you keep kissing - straps of your bra falling down your shoulder as he splays his fingers to feel more of your skin and hold you. Hugging you close to him, his other arm wraps around your torso. His forearms feels especially strong they way they hold you by the waist.  
You're so close to him. Kissing him so deep, his tongue sliding against your lips. Something about the kiss is languid but the touch is so hot it makes your skin burn. You feel wrapped up in him, can't even tell whose heartbeat you're hearing. 
More of your weight ends up in his lap as you feel your knees go weak. Something hard presses against your clothed cunt and you gasp a little into his mouth.  
"Oh, shit." You mumble in surprise. Umemiya laughs.  
"You're making me feel good." He hums.  
Your face heats up. "I barely did anything." 
"You just being on my lap is more than enough."  
You make a face at him before rubbing yourself over the zipper of his jeans, slow and deliberate trying to get a feel for it. You hear him moan, nearly jumping out of your skin in surprise.  
The way Umemiya moans is a lot for you to process. Breathy and a little low. It resonates through your whole body like a caress.  
You make a few more tentative passes over his bulge, just to hear him do it again. Driven by your instinct more than anything, you lean into kiss at his jaw - making use of the limited experience you do have to try and draw more sounds from him.  
"What're you thinking about?" He asks, still breathless. Maybe amused.  
"Like the way you sound." You mumble in reply.  
"I thought I told you I wanted to take care of you, hm?"  
You frown. "So what? I can't touch you at all?"  
He thinks on it. "You can touch me everywhere else and you can have your way with me later, if you want it. I don't wanna cum too fast."  
"I'm just..."  
He shakes his head. "You're underestimating me. I'm still a guy, you know? With a woman I love at that. There's no way I would make it through our first time if I didn't focus on you. Don't pout,"  
Hearing him describe you in such an embarrassing way makes you flush. You roll your eyes half-heartedly. "Fine, whatever."  
He smiles.  
"Good girl. C'mere. Lay down."  
You decide not to think about how effected the praise makes you as you comply.  
Umemiya lays you down carefully, making sure you're comfortable before hovering over you. He looks a lot more imposing from this view - the dim lights of your room making his face seem more well-defined. Your nipples harden in arousal, peeking from underneath your shirt as he stares long and hard.  
"You're so beautiful to me."  
He leans down and presses a hot kiss to your jaw, just underneath your ear before slowly kissing down your neck. Open-mouthed kisses along delicate skin, tongue sliding over every patch he scrapes lightly with his teeth. You fidget underneath him, a dull throbbing between your legs. You try to figure out what to do with your hands but you’re too nervous.  
He kisses your throat where it's extra sensitive and you bite back and involuntary noise. 
"Don't hold your voice, please?"  
"It's embarrassing,"  
"It's not," He assures, bumping his forehead to your shoulder lightly. "I want to know what makes you feel good. Let me pay attention to you."  
You frown but nod ultimately.  
Umemiya isn't the first sexual encounter you've had in your life. You've done other things, but you've never really gone all the way with anyone. All of your other partners were mostly strangers - people mutually interested in using someone else to try and get off.  
This is the first time anyone has taken this much time with you. A little kissing and groping, sometimes touching your chest.  
No one's ever touched you like this, though.  
His hands feel like they're all over your body no matter where they actually end up being. Makes your heartbeat rain drumming on a tin roof. Makes your stomach tingle, a heat in your calves and a prickly feeling on your back. Your whole being drowning with pure anticipation.  
"Take this off for me." Umemiya mumbles. You nod, feeling absent as you wiggle yourself out of your tight little tee and toss it somewhere.  
The air shifts again when you're naked. His eyes drink you in, tracing the soft lines and edges of your body. Looking over scars and stretchmarks with pure, blown out wanting that shoots lust straight into your veins.  
You want him to fuck you so bad it's killing you but the very thought makes you feel so shy you could die.  
"You're beautiful," Sounds dirty the way he says, makes it spill from his lips like wine tipping over a glasses edge. "Perfect. Every inch of you is so perfect."  
He proves this to you by kissing you again. Running his hands over your skin. Up against curved sides and down against your arms, brushing the back of your biceps and forearms.  
Infatuation in his touch ruins you. Makes your voice let out. You can't think of anyone whose treated you so preciously in your entire life and you find you don't resent it as much as you should.  
(You find it feels so good to let someone touch you so kindly. A touch like you're being loved.)  
Nonetheless it's embarrassing. Of course it is.  
But it's so hard not to feel pulled in when you feel the way he kisses you. Draws a trail with his lips and tongue from jaw to shoulder blade - kissing down your biceps with his hands on your body, taking  gentle inhales of your scent.  
Anticipation makes your stomach tie in knots but finally he relents. Both hands squeeze the soft weight of your chest, palms brushing your hardened nipples.  
"Fuck."  
He laughs a little, heavy with want. "Yeah? Do you like being touched here?"  
"Mm." Is the best reply you can get out.  
He brushes against the tips with his fingers in a feather-light gesture, testing the waters before rubbing with a little more pressure. Your body jolts from the stimulation, wetness pooling and dampening your underwear. He leans in and takes one of your nipples into his mouth making another dull wave of lust wash through you.  
And he makes sure to pay attention to both. It's just like him to be so attentive to some shit like that. Your spine arches as he sucks on your sensitive nipples, letting his tongue flick across them and giving into a sweet friction. You buck your hips up against instinctively, gripping onto the sheets as your sense of restlessness grows.  
Your voice is whiny to your own ears but you can't calm down to save your life.  
"You're taking too long," You huff. He laughs lightly, looking up at you from underneath his lashes.  
"Don't be impatient." He tsks.  
"It's enough already," 
He shakes his head. "Nope. Still got a long ways to go. Promise you'll have me when you're ready for it, so just try and focus on feeling good."  
You make a frustrated sound. "It's embarrassing being the only one feeling good,"  
He pauses before standing up on his knees. He takes his black t-shirt off in one swift go until his torso is bare, and undoes the top button of his pants. He gives you a little glance. "Better?"  
There are too many layers of that to process in the moment it happens. You mumble. "A little,"  
He beams. "Good. Now let me take good care of you,"  
Sliding down lower, he kisses you from sternum to navel. Hands gripping at the softness of your sides, smoothing over the bare skin as he his thumb finds the waistband of your skirt. He glances up at you, silently seeking your permission. You nod back at him, watching him slide the short skirt away from your waist.  
The sudden air feels cool against your skin. He presses his cheek against your belly, both hands on your hips..  
"You're gorgeous. Even more gorgeous than I thought. I feel so lucky being able to touch you when you're this perfect.” He praises endlessly.  
You cover your face with your arm.  
"Ugh. Quit it. You're sayin' too much."  
"Seeing you get so shy when I praise you a little is so cute." He trails his lips down further and further - just above your sex before stopping. "You're so cute."  
He sits back, standing up and bending your legs slightly at the knee. You hold the position as you feel him massage your calve. Thumb drawing hard circles in the muscle, slowly working his way up to your knee. He kisses you afterwards trailing the same spot his hands were touching seconds ago before moving onto the other side.  
There's nothing you can call it short of worship. The nagging feeling that it's undeserved is washed away each time Umemiya holds your gaze.  
Devotion colors every touch no matter how small. And it’s so obvious, so prominent - it feels outright wrong to deny the fact it’s there.   
You think the closest thing you can compare it too is the way Umemiya gardens. A patience as his fingers root through earth and soil, a kindness towards delicate things that makes even hours of work under the sun look beautiful and easy. His expression is what's most uncanny - what makes you you feel so hot. 
An expression that says he loves doing it from the very bottom of his heart - not even a hint of apathy or complaint.  
A face that says he loves every long, drawn out motion and actions of repetition all fro the very core of him.  
Having it directed at making love to you so blatantly makes you more aroused than you know what to do with. You don't know how to let yourself be treated like the most cherished flower in Umemiya's garden - and you aren't so sure how you're meant to get used to it no matter how much it makes you feel...nice. You don’t have any other experience.  
Which is why you're trying to be patient. Trying to be at least temporarily secure in whatever he sees in you that makes him worship every inch of you, memorizing all your ins and outs.  
Umemiya places hot, wet kisses on your inner thigh before laying himself between your spread legs - breath barely hovering over your sex.  
By the time he gets there, you feel utterly melted into your sheets. Your mind is hazy, impatient and wanting as strong hands secure your thighs. He's so close.  
"I wanna eat you out. Is that okay?"  
"If you don't do something soon I'm gonna kill you."  
He laughs warmly. "I'll take that as a yes."  
You pause. Umemiya waits.  
"I didn't uh," You clear your throat. "Wasn't planning on getting laid so y'know. Haven't shaved in a while."  
"Were you worried that I'd change my mind? I like it for the record. Feels natural." Umemiya says. "It's your body so there's nothing I would dislike about it."  
"You're too much." You reply back in earnest. You cover your face with your arms. "So cheesy."  
"I'm being serious." He says suddenly solemn with how sincere he is. 
The sudden change is amusing. You pause before breaking into genuine giggles, unable to help yourself.  
"You're really somethin', yknow that?"  
He's quiet for a long time. Long enough for it to catch your attention, turning your gaze more clearly towards his face. Swiftly, he pushes himself up to catch your mouth in another kiss. It stuns you a bit, very different to all the rest. More teeth and tongue than lip.  
"I like you," He murmurs, forehead to yours. "How can someone be so cute?"  
"Would you quit embarrassing me and get on with it?" 
He smiles. "As you wish,"  
Umemiya settles back down between your legs after easing your panties off and putting your feet flat on the bed to give himself more access. You can barely look down at him doing it. His fingers brush the slick hairs back gentle as he uses his thumbs to spread your pussy apart and look at you more intimately.  
You can feel him. Feel his every breath and movement. He stares at you awestruck. "How is all of you so pretty? Even here it's such a beautiful color."  
"Stop looking so much,"  
He takes a breath, taking in your scent one more time before pressing a kiss to your clit. You make an attempt to squirm away from his grip as his finger dig into your thighs and hold you down. The strength of it knocks the wind out of you, forcing you into place. Umemiya pushes his tongue and gives you a long, tentative lick through the seam of your cunt.  
Your whole body breaks out into shivers at the sensation. The warm weight of his tongue on your sex makes feels like an electric current through water - your toes curling as he makes the same few passes over and over. He collects your pooling arousal on the tip as he drags upwards and flicks your clit tentatively. You grind against his face instinctually, hips chasing the pleasure. Amused laughter vibrates against your core as you do, mumbling at you to be patient while he's still face deep in it.  
You let out another pitchy whine before he finally stops teasing. He lays his tongue flat against your clit, cupping it lightly before drawing it around experimentally. He watches carefully as he plays around with pressure and angles - trying to see what makes you react the most. You can feel how closely he's watching you. 
You cover your mouth with your hand when he does find it, your voice breaking off as he licks carefully right where you need. He smiles into your cunt as he toys with your with the sensitive bundle of nerves, pleased by the change in your reactions. The obvious pleasure he's making you feel.  
Something blooms into your chest. You've never— 
"You're—" You close your eyes, hands tangling in the sheets as you break out into a fever. "Ngh, never had someone l-lick me,"  
He must've heard you because he seems to laser in his focus the minute you say it. He's lapping at your clit so deep, licking precisely and holding you with nose against your bush.  
You reach down tentatively, pushing back the hair falling in his face and he gives you a look so lovesick you want to run away. The pressure changes gradually, more intensely.  
It feels better somehow. Makes you feel restless. Your whole body curls in tight with want at the sensation of it, the lower expanse of your belly tensed. You're shaking as you drift closer to the edge, arousal upped by the wet sound of him sucking your clit.  
"Hajime," You warn, spine starting to arch as you helplessly try to pull away from the intense sensation. It's not familiar to your body, so much so your mind can barely make sense of what's happening to it, "Cumming—c-cumming!"  
Something in you goes undone as Umemiya keeps pace during your orgasm. All the tension inside of you suddenly comes loose - specks of white matter behind closed lids as you screw your eyes shut. Your back curves up into arch, your hips trembling, your insides pulsing. It comes running into you, crashing into your body as waves of pleasure drown out the noise in your head. He eats you out until you feel borderline hysterical.  
You feel melted and reshaped by him - yanking him off when he continues to be insistent after you're too oversensitive. He laughs when you pull him away, resting against your thigh as you take worn out heaving breaths.  
He kisses the inside of your knee as you calm down, bright smile on his features - painted pink with a slight flush. "You came. I'm so happy."  
You look at him in shock. "You're a scary guy."  
He pushes up to kiss your temple, voice soft. "Did I scare you?"  
Your stomach flutters, tucking your chin. "You were intense, but I didn't... hate it or anything."  
"Yeah?" He grins, pressing a few kisses to your cheek and face before whispering against your ear. "Then, is it okay to go farther?"  
You nod silently. Umemiya smiles.  
He stands up on his knees, pushing his hair back as your eyes are drawn to his pants. You reach out for the waistband of his pants unthinkingly, hooking your finger into it. "Isn't it stuffy?"  
He blinks, frozen before rubbing a hand across his face. "Ah a bit, but it's fine."  
"Take 'em off. Please?"  
Umemiya looks unusually distressed by the request, but follows through without another word. You watch him undress - revealing the tight black fabric of his boxer briefs snug against his waist. Your eyes go wide as you see the outline of his cock - head still half hazy. You voice your unfiltered reaction.  
"Your dick is so big,"  
He laughs breathlessly. "Are you trying to stir me up? What's with you?" He pauses to lay down besides you. You turn to lay on your side and face him a little better. "You're being cute. I'm not used to seeing you so docile."  
"Shaddup," You reply half-heartedly. Your body is still on fire but it knocked the wind of you to cum once already. "Your fault."  
He grins, a hint of smugness as he laughs. "That's true."  
"You gonna fuck me?"  
"Mm, yeah. Gotta open you up first or it'll hurt."  
"I've put stuff in before. Toys. Should be fine."   
"Still wanna play it safe. It's your precious first time after all."  
You make a face before pulling him into you, hugging him tight as your whole body breaks out in a shameful flush. "Then hurry up and do it already."  
His arms slide underneath where your laying, holding you to him as he hikes one of your legs up. He slides his free hand in over your leg - his forearm holding your thigh. You press your face to his neck and shoulder - hiding your expression. "Guess I should huh? You were always impatient,"  
You can barely tell him to shut up, the way your body waits for it. A warbled little noise leaves your mouth as he slides his middle finger through the sticky folds of your cunt - careful as it catches on your hole. Wet and so aroused, the first finger he puts in goes in completely smoothly with no real effort 
Umemiya speaks low and soft as he holds you. "I don't know if I can get used to seeing you like this. I'm glad no one else but me ever wil You’re really all I think about lately," He catches the lobe of your ear between his teeth gently. Your head spins. "People misunderstand you because you're prickly, you know? For a long time, only I knew what it felt like to be liked by you. I liked that,"  
"Why are you—mmgh," 
He slides another finger in carefully after the first one slides inside of you with no resistance. His voice is so hot against your skin, the low bass of it in your skull as he speaks so close to your ear.  
"Don't get me wrong I'm happy seeing you with so many people surrounding you. But I was a little sad too. And it kept getting worse over the years until I couldn’t ignore it. I couldn’t figure out why for a long time and then it clicked,” Umemiya explains. You realize half way delirious this is his real confession. God, you’re gonna kill him. “Suddenly it was all I thought about. I wanted to be special to you. I wanted to monopolize you. It was my first time having thoughts like that,”  
Another finger slides into you easily. Umemiyas fingers are so much bigger than yours. Thicker than they are long. The stretch is enough to make you gasp.  
“Hajime—“ 
He curls them up, careful until he finds the spot he’s looking for. Your body reacts, another sensation of pressure as his middle finger rubs tenderly against your gspot. You weakly try to wiggle away as he holds you firm.  
“I felt a little guilty, too. You’re my very best friend. You’re independent and diligent. Tough. But you know, when I saw you for those few months - all I could think about was how much I wanted to spoil you,” He whispers. Something in your body shifts the way touches you. Pushes in further and further - stretching until it’s easy for him to be inside. “Somehow everything I liked about you became so cute I couldn’t stand it. I couldn’t help but want to dote on you over every little thing even though I knew better than anyone you didn’t need something like that.”  
Your eyes well up but not necessarily from emotion. Totally overwhelmed. You don’t feel like you’re gonna cum but there’s something else that’s waiting and each time he thrusts his fingers into you it comes a little closer. Your voice is shaking.  
“It—fuck, quit talking. Somethings gonna—“  
His smile grows a little. It’s the first time it looks so hungry.  
“I was happy in general when I realized you liked me too. Even when you were being stubborn, I liked the way you couldn’t turn me away. I liked how happy you looked talking to me as usual as if that alone was something so precious,” He hums, so focused and precise as he stretches you open on a third finger but never once losing his train of thought. Like saying all of these comes to him so easily it doesn’t matter. “I didn’t want to corner you. But it felt like I couldn’t rest until you were mine completely. Which is why I’m being so unfair to you. Why I’m so persistent. ” 
Your voice breaks on a whine. “It’s gonna come out—“  
“You make a pretty face when your heads filled with nothing but me. I don’t think it’s bad to wanna stay that way,” He hums, almost conversational as he presses a kiss to your skin. “Go on. Let go,”  
Something hot sprays between your legs as Umemiya fucks you open on all three of his fingers.  
A rush of warm liquid squirts onto your sheets as your legs shake wearily. Umemiya marvels at the mess. Your hands curl into fists, nails digging in your palms as he finally pulls them out - leaving you stretched, almost gaping.  
You lay limp in soaked sheets as you pull away from Umemiya with a very weak glare.  
He’s smiling at you, dopey and lovesick.  
“Too much?”  
Angrily, you smack at his bare chest over and over, trying to recover your pride.  
“You’re insane. What’s,” You swallow thickly. “What’s with you.”  
He shrugs. Wordless, he flips you onto your back again before hovering over top of you. Pressing his forehead to yours, he brushes your noses together and plants a tentative peck on your lips as if trying to gauge whether or not you’re upset. He melts when you kiss him back, smiling happily.  
“Were you like this with your other girlfriends? No wonder they broke up with you,”  
He laughs. “Mm, no? I was more of a gentleman.”  
You break out into another exhausted fit of laughter.  
“Pfft, yeah? Guess I’m pretty special,” 
“Yeah. You are.” He kisses you again. “Wanna keep going or are you too tired? I don’t mind if we sleep.”  
“Stupid. I said it already didn’t I? Hurry up and fuck me.”  
“Okay, okay. Let me go get the condom from my wallet,”  
You wrap your legs around his waist and stare up at him plainly as he tries to move, keeping him pinned in place. You’re frowning, brows furrowed with a hard glare. He stares at you.  
“Did you want something else? Water?”  
“Want you to fuck me,” You restate, arms reaching up to circle around his neck. “Just do it already.” 
He pulls back to look at you seriously.  
“Do you know what you’re asking?”  
You flush. “Of course I do. Stupid. Are you trying to get me to say it out loud?”  
“I might think I’m deluding myself otherwise.”  
You sigh, looking at him flatly as you try to tamp down the part of you that’s screaming to be more tactful.  
“Don’t bother with the condom, a-alright? Or pulling out,”  
He looks like he’s experiencing the shock of his life. “But…” 
“Stop being dumb or I’m never gonna have sex with you again.”  
He nods suddenly solemn. “Fine. But,”  
You give him another look that silences him. He sighs again, getting the message before kissing your cheek and pull back to sit up on his knees between your legs. Pulling his briefs down, his cock springs free. It looks a lot bigger than you saw underneath the fabric, weighed down from it’s own weight even though it stands up stiff. He opened you up with three but you wonder if it’ll be enough not to stretch you open.  
You reach your hand out to touch it tentatively, feeling it’s weight and heft. He clears his throat but seems content to let you. The palms of your hands cup the shaft, feeling all the veins pulse. The tip is sticky with precum. You pull your hand away, another sudden wave of self consciousness overwhelming you.  
Umemiya hovers over you again, placing he length of his cock against your pussy. You shift a little feeling it slide against you, hard and hot.  
“Gonna put it in now, okay?”  
Nodding, you put your legs up. You take a deep breath when the head pushes in, letting out an involuntary noise. You feel well-stretched but the thickness of his cock is still enough to make you feel it in your legs. Umemiya is focused above you, barely sliding the tip through your folds as you open up around him. The air feels punched out of your lungs on just the first inch.  
His face is strained is he holds his hips steady, leaning down to tap your foreheads together. “Feeling okay?”  
“Mm,” You nod, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Fine. Feels different.”  
“Different?”  
“Yours is bigger than all the stuff I own,” You explain. “Feels hotter. Harder, too.”  
You feel his cock twitch inside of you suddenly, shocking you. He smiles sheepishly.  
“Gonna push in a little more, okay?”  
You nod, watching as Umemiya so slowly presses his cock into you further. Enough that it doesn’t hurt when you take him, as much as it just feels like something is inside of you. You feel a warm sense of satisfaction at how full you feel. You feel like him like he’s in your stomach, taking up so much space. After a while of pushing, stopping, and going again  - he finally bottoms out.  
“You feel incredible,” He murmurs, half-smile on his face. Your stomach flutters. “It’s hard not to cum right away. Feels so good inside of you. I love you.”  
You feel yourself twitch, frowning at the expression of delight Umemiya has. You put your hand against his fact to keep him away but he kisses your palm and moves it. Bottomed out, he grasps both hands and holds them  - pinning them to the bed as you watch him wide-eyed.  
“Think you’re used to it?” He hums, clasping your fingers together. “Is it okay if I move?”  
You feel so damn bashful. “It’s okay.” 
He kisses your forehead. “I’ll go slow.” 
As promised, Umemiya pulls out carefully before pushing back into you. You’re so wet that it slides in without any real friction. It takes a few thrusts of him going slowly for your body to get adjusted to the sensation. After a few motions, though - it starts to feel different.  
Starts to feel good. Really, really good.  
“Oh,” Your eyes flutter open. “Shit. You c-can go faster.”   
“Yeah?”  
You nod, trying not to seem too eager. 
When Umemiya picks up pace, you feel your  the whole lower half of your body weaken all over again. Something in your legs, your spine go soft against the bed underneath, a sudden unusual arousal swelling. Somewhere in deeper as he cocks thrusts against your gspot, knocking against it with more force than before. The change in pace coupled with the visual of Umemiya over you, face drawn together in focus as he fucks you is too much. Split open on his cock, you can hear how wet you are each time he moves.  
“Feels…” Your words come up empty. “’s so much.” 
“Yeah? Is it too much for you, baby?”  
You shake your head as your thoughts get increasingly cloudy. It’s like there’s nothing else your body can focus on. The way his cock drags against your sensitive, silken walls. The feeling of being full to empty and then full all over again. The way your pussy gets so much wetter each time he moves, sloppy and sucking him in so tight. You can feel your body want for him.  
Umemiya lets go of your hands, sliding one between your bodies. Palm resting on your sex, he lets his brush against your clit. The difference it makes is significant, makes your eyes go wide. He smiles a little, hair falling in his face as he pushes it up with his free hand.  
“That’s it,” He hums, contented to keep at it like this. “Feels good, right? Your holding onto me so tightly it’s hard for me to pull out even though you’re so wet.”  
You make a whiny noise and wonder if other peoples first times feel this good or if you’re just outrageously lucky. You decide on the latter he fucks you faster and matches his thrusts with the movement of his fingers. You’re warm all over - skin scorching as your hands find his biceps and shoulders to cling onto.  
Your voice is so whiny when you call out for him “You’re so deep, ngh.”  
He laughs, deep and raspy. “Yeah? Tell me what you’re feeling,”  
“It feels good when you’re in me.” You reply drunkenly. “Want it faster. Please,”  
He complies with your request almost immediately. You cry out loud, physically incapable of holding the sound in as he gets to fucking you faster and harder. Your pussy is throbbing. Senselessly horny, you pull Umemiya closer to you as he fucks you and smash your lips together. You feel so good, so thoroughly fucked and completely out of it. He’s in you but you want him even closer, want the scent of his skin to mark you.  
A second time your body builds up to that familiar feeling but it’s so much farther inside. An orgasm pulled right from your core. Stomach tied in knots as Umemiya fucks you hard, you wrap your legs around his waist and take him. 
“That’s it. You’re so good. Cum on my cock, sweet girl. Let me feel it” He murmurs against your skin, holding you close. “You’re making me feel so good. So cute. Go ahead, it’s okay. Let me see how good I’m making you feel.”  
Pliant to his request, you hold onto Umemiya for dear life as your body gives into second orgasm. Your nails dig into his biceps as the built up arousal gives way pleasure - and you cum hard with his cock sheathed all the way inside of you. All the wind gets stolen from your lungs as you press forward with another kiss, your whole body trembling violently as you let go.  
Umemiya sweet talks you through without letting go once, only stopping to take a pause when you’ve fully ridden out your high.  
You stare up at him in a daze as he takes a breather to kiss you, still hard as he’s bottomed out inside of you.  
“You gonna cum soon?”  
“Mm,” He nods. “Yeah I’m close. If I move, I will.”  
“’s okay to cum in me,”  
Umemiya laughs warmly. “I’m already about too. You’re not helping,”  
You smile a bit as you hug him close to you and tell him again that it’s fine. Before long, he holds you too, whispering the same three words into your neck as he finally lets it out. It’s a weird feeling, thick white ropes of seed spilling into the deepest parts of you.  
You don’t really hate it, though.  
“I love you,” Umemiya repeats. Tired you don’t try to fight yourself.  
“Love you too,”  
__ 
The next morning, you’re stirred away by the sound of your front door unlocking and the sound of Kotoha’s voice echoing through your apartment.  
You’re still half-way asleep, so it barely dawns on you that anything is off. Not cognizant enough to think twice, your body tries to go back to sleep.  
Or it does until you hear a very loud shout coming from your kitchen that wakes you up with a start.  
“No fucking way,”  
You sit up suddenly, hearing faint conversation before the sound of steps barreling towards your door. You just barely manage to pull the sheets up over your chest before she comes storming through the door of your bedroom.  
You watch her eyes scan your entire room, mentally collecting data before she finally lands on you. As your brain starts to load back in, your eyes go wide with horror at the look of pure scandal on her face.  
Fuck. You were supposed to be having dinner with her and Tsubaki tonight. Usually you confirm with them in the mornings since your up. It’s not uncommon for her to drop in when you don’t reply to check in since you live close by. 
Fuck.  
“You—Oh, I have to text Tsubaki-chan, I can’t believe—“  
Before she gets to finish her sentence, Umemiya appears behind her in your door way. The sight of him only adds fuel to the flame of your embarrassment. You went another round or two before bed last night and it looks like it too. Shirtless in sweats he left over a while ago, his biceps are covered in scratch and with a few hickies, he’s wearing his hair down with a cup of tea and a very apologetic smile.  
You cover your face with your hands unsure of how to deal with the feeling of pure mortification.  
Kotoha snaps a picture of your room that causes even more distress.  
“If you don’t delete that right now, I’m gonna kill us both.”  
“In your dreams.”  
Umemiya laughs warmly. “Please don’t kill each other.”  
He slides past Kotoha coming over to you. Bending down to kiss your forehead, he pulls the blanket up over you so you’re more well-covered. You give him an incredulous but Umemiya is unfazed - smiling as bright as ever. 
“Good morning,”  
“I can’t believe my eyes,” Kotoha says. She points at Umemiya. “You, go put on a shirt.”  
“Fine, fine. Stay for breakfast,” Umemiya says with a smile. “It’ll be nice having it with my two favorite people.”  
You make another face as Umemiya gives you a long, affectionate look before disappearing. She sighs as she looks at you, pinching the bridge of her nose.  
“I would ask if you’re gonna meet us for dinner but you don’t have a choice anymore so show up at seven. I’m gonna leave before that tactless idiot comes back. We’ll talk later.”  
You nod in understanding. She turns to leave but then turns back with a genuine smile.  
“And, well - congrats. He’s a tactless idiot but he does love you or whatever. Cherish each other,”  
You flush, nodding your head. “Yeah…thanks.”  
With that Kotoha leaves quickly. Umemiya returns still shirtless, pouting a little when he notices she’s gone.  
“She left already?”  
“Of course she did. I can’t believe you would invite her for breakfast.”   
Umemiya shrugs. “No point being coy about it. I thought it’d be nice. I was looking for a shirt but I guess I don’t need one now,” He sits besides you on the bed, turning to face with a goofy smile. “Anyways, good morning.”  
“You already said that.”  
“You didn’t say it back,”  
You frown. “G’morning,”  
He smiles suddenly  before grabbing you from underneath the blankets and sheets - pulling your naked body ontop of him as he grins. Sunlight pours through the window as he holds you to his chest, kissing the crown of your head before pressing his cheek into your hair.  
“Mm, yeah. It’s a really good morning after all.”  
“You’re stupid.”  
“And you love me,”  
You fail trying not to smile.  Damn him. You're so happy it hurts. You roll your eyes.
“I guess so.”  
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leighsartworks216 · 27 days ago
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Kiss Me
Sylus x fem!Reader
I need to go back to bed ough
Warnings: fluff, light angst, drunkenness, drinking, crying, cuddling, self-esteem issues, self-worth issues
Word Count: 975
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Sylus holds a wine glass in one hand, holding it to the side as you climb onto his lap. Legs on either side of his, body arched to align with his, face ducked down to stay close to his; you truly are a sight to behold.
"Kiss me," you demand. Your hands trace his jaw, feeling his skin, the warmth underneath it.
He grins softly. It's not quite a smirk, though it holds that same smug amusement. His hand holds your hip respectfully. Fingers tug down the hem of your dress to keep you decent.
"I don't think that's a good idea, sweetie."
You frown. "Why not?"
Oh, you sweet thing. Your eyes keep flickering about his face, lingering on his lips, his eyes, his lips again. He takes his sweet time sipping from his glass. A slight tint of red stains his lips, licked away by his tongue. He can see the way your eyes glaze over as you stare.
"You're drunk," he reminds you. "You almost polished off my nice, expensive wine. Did you forget?"
The wine wasn't important. It was expensive, aged to perfection, sitting on the rack waiting for the best occasion - and you had him refill your glass before he even finished his.
He doesn't envy the headache you'll have come morning.
Your thumbs run along the flat of his cheeks, stroking back to his sideburns, before you slip your hands around his neck and into his hair. You scratch so sweetly at his scalp. He should stop it, stop you from so effortlessly turning him into putty under your attention. But he doesn't.
You brush your nose against his. Your breath carries the subtle notes of the wine with it. "'M not that drunk. And you're pretty... Kiss me, please."
"I can't."
"Why not?"
Something dark flashes across his eyes. A fleeting shadow. If it were not his lap you were in right now, how quickly would anyone else give in to you, with you so demanding and beautiful? "Because you're drunk," he insists again, softly.
You huff in annoyance. "Is that the only reason you're gonna give me? Told you already, I'm not that drunk."
"It's the fact you've been drinking at all, sweetie." You roll your eyes, turning your head away at the rejection. He grabs your chin between his thumb and index finger, drawing your attention back to him. "I want you to be completely sober for our first kiss. Is that such a bad thing?"
You blink at him dumbly for a moment. "First kiss?"
"Mhm."
A beat, and then those gorgeous lips are curling into a wicked little grin. "'First' implies that there'd be more."
He releases your chin to brush loose strands of hair from your face. "And I want you to be sober enough to remember every single one."
"But if we kissed now..." You lean into his touch like a cat, rubbing your cheek against his hand before he can pull it away. "... we could have another first kiss later."
He chuckles. "You really want this, don't you, kitten?"
You whine with a nod. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you draw yourself into him, resting your head on his shoulder and nuzzling into the fabric of his shirt.
"Sometimes it feels hard to love you," you admit in a whisper. "You have everything. And I have nothing. Nothing to give you to- to make it worthwhile. Cuz that's what you deserve."
His heart aches. He sets his glass aside to hug you in return. Your words become slurred as you continue speaking, slow and messy. But genuine. He wishes he had the will to silence you now, to hear it all when you're of sound mind. But he's weak to this truth and the desire to hear it at your most vulnerable.
"But I want to... I want to love you so bad. And I do. So much... But I have nothing. The only thing I can give you is..." You wave a hand limply at your body. "This mess."
You sigh, hiding your face in his warm neck. He leans his head on yours. You sniffle quietly.
"Would kissing me make you happy?"
He squeezes his arms tighter around you. Readjusts so you're sitting more comfortably across his lap instead of straddling him. He even grabs a blanket with his Evol to wrap it around your shoulders, tucking the corners in so you're protected from the cold in your little black dress that drives him wild.
"Being near you makes me happy," he answers. "Seeing you, hearing you, talking with you - everything about you makes me happy. I don't need your body to be happy. You don't need to throw yourself at me to love me."
You sniffle again. Hot droplets of water fall to his skin. Your voice shakes. "But would kissing me make you happy?"
"When you're sober," he begins slowly, carefully, "and I kiss you for the first time, I'll be the happiest man in the universe."
"Really?"
He gently pulls you from his neck. You've got tears already staining your cheeks. Makeup running, lip trembling. You're so beautiful.
He leans in. Your breath hitches in your throat, though he can't tell if it's from excitement or to fight back another sob. His lips brush your cheek. Your eyes flutter shut, squeezing out tears that gather on his lips. They linger there for several seconds, before he finally pulls away. His hand comes up to hold your other cheek, wiping away the evidence of your overwhelming emotions.
"If you can remember that, you can cash it in for the real deal," he says, teasing and light, but with the weight of genuine care and concern. "Alright?"
You nod. "Alright."
He draws you back into him. "Now get some sleep. I'll be here when you wake up."
---
Tag List:
@the-golden-jhope @armycaratlover @sylusfluffymeow @cheesemachine44 @nyx2021 @angel-jupiter @thelittlebutton @pikachuzhc @pomegranatepip @cordidy @an-ever-angry-bi @thejysemongko @deusfoundry @that-lost-one @always-just-red @22carolina08 @lunaizhere @sine-nomine0 @beautifulthingsiadore @lalaluch @burningtrashgentleman @nothankyew @terriblesoup @jeleryyy @nezuswritingdesk @anaathxma @ssushi @mina7820 @monophobix @leiakitty @loliesaregreat
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rosenclaws · 1 month ago
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What you've been missing || Worst!Logan x Reader
summary: Logan has found work at a local pet shelter but the last person he expects to see is his very cute neighbor looking for a new cat.
warnings: sad cat backstory, fluff, swearing
a/n: Here's pet shelter logan!! I'm ngl I almost started crying writing this because I want a cat so fucking bad but my dad is allergic and I still live at home so I can't get one. Also it made me think of this one senior cat I saw and I wanted so bad I cried to my boyfriend for days. Anyways I hope lives up to the og idea blurb I had. I've been feeling a little down and wanted to write something cute for a change.
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"Hey watch the claws bub." Logan glares at his attacker. The one who stuck their sharp little claws into his leg as they climb his body like a tree.
Merooow
The adorable orange cat looks up at him with innocent little eyes. The cutest he's ever seen. Sighing he takes the cat in one hand and places her on his shoulder.
"This is why the others think I play favorites Jeanie." he mumbles. She just purrs happily, rubbing her head against Logan's and taking her place on his wide shoulders.
This really isn't how Logan expected to spend his time. But getting pulled into a new universe meant he was starting from square one and that meant he needed a job and money. Bad. If he ever wanted to get his own place so he didn't have to wake up and see Wade walking around in nothing while making breakfast. Most places were unsure about hiring a man like Logan.
Until he stumbled upon a local pet shelter. Yeah he's not exactly what anyone would think when they thought animal rescue but the animals loved him and this shelter desperately needed help. Plus Logan always got along better with animals than humans. Logan was primarily put in charge of the cats. Feeding, changing their litter box, and playing with them.
Logan understood the cats and they seemed to understand him. They wouldn't hiss or scratch him out of fear, they inherently trusted him. He found himself a little home. He could escape the world and just be around the animals.
"Where are my babies?" He hears Wades voice come from the other room. Logan rolls his eyes as he walks in with a big bag of cat food on his other shoulder.
"There you are Shopping cart and Totino's pizza rolls." Wade scratches the two cats heads. Surprise surprise he named them.
Though as soon as they hear Logan walk in they abandon Wade without a second thought. Logan slices open the bag and pours food into each bowl. The cats scramble to eat, doesn't matter if you had fed them an hour ago they're always happy for food.
"Jeanie, you gotta eat bub." Logan raises his hand and gently pets her head. But her claws dig deep into his shirt.
"Alright come on," Logan he grabs a can of cat food and walks into an empty room.
The sound of it opening makes her ears perk up. Logan gently takes her off his shoulder and places her on the table next to the canned food. He watches as she sniffs it, taking a few small bites before looking back at him.
"More than that." He scolds and she just meows back.
"Please?" She takes one more small bite before abandoning the food and curling up by his side.
Logan sighs, pushing his hair back as takes her in his arms. Jeanie was a surrendered cat. Logan hadn't been here long when she was brought in. Her owner was an old lady who had passed away and her kids couldn't keep Jeanie.
The first week was really hard. She was sad, lonely, and would barely touch her food and water. At first Logan let the more experienced staff deal with her but she just wouldn't budge. Eventually he gave it a shot, talking to her and pushing some nice wet food towards her. To everyone's shock she actually responded to Logan. Peeking her head out of her cage and giving even sniffing his hand.
Since then she really only responded to Logan. Following him around and giving him all her love and attention. She was a mature cat, not as cute as the kittens that most people scooped up right away. It did hurt Logan just a little to see her be passed up because of her age, but Logan did enjoy getting to see her everyday. Still, he knows that with Mary Puppins at home he can't adopt her.
Suddenly the door opens and Jeanie scurries back up to Logan's shoulder.
"Logan, I have a 1:30 appointment and Kathy isn't here so I need you to cover her." Penny begs, she's the one who runs the shelter. She gave Logan the job and he does owe her, but he's never been good with customers.
"I don't know, not exactly a people person." He mumbles but she just rolls her eyes, grabbing his wrist and drags him out of the room. Well kind of, it's hard to pull a 300lb man with a metal skeleton.
"Just one appointment. Show them some cats and see if they want to adopt. That's it."
"Okay," Logan agrees, hoping it's over quickly. He tries to put Jeanie down but she throws a fit, meowing loudly until he just gives up.
"Fine, but you keep it down when I'm talking alright?" He pushes open the door leading to the lobby and stops right in his tracks.
There you are sitting on the waiting room couch. Logan knows you. You live a couple apartments down from Wade. He's seen you in passing, catching whiffs of your shampoo in the elevator in the least creepy way ever. You've shared a few hellos but that's it.
The truth is Logan's pretty...well pretty. Your crush on him wasn't surprising in the slightest but you try and stay clear of him, hoping that it will go away so that you can actually talk to the man one day.
"Logan? I didn't know you worked here?" You say, shocked to see your hot neighbor here.
"Yeah, uh anyways you here to adopt a cat?" He asks awkwardly.
"I hope," You respond.
He nods his head and opens the door for you, putting his hand out as to say you first. Logan shows you a couple cats up for adopting, they're all adorable but none of them feel quite right. On the bright side they're kittens so you know they'll be adopted soon.
Logan remains relatively quiet as you say hi to each cat. Wade's been incredibly persistent about getting him to talk to you. Saying that only serial killers smell peoples hair in the elevator and to just pop a Viagra and talk to you. Pushing Wade's stupidly aside, he really doesn't know how to talk to you.
It's stupid, he used to be great at this kind of thing. Flirting was second nature to Logan but now he can barely think of a conversation starter. Plus you don't make it easy when your laugh is so hypnotizing and your smile is brighter than the moon.
"Who's this pretty girl?" Your voice breaks his thoughts. You're pointing to Jeanie who was still on his shoulder.
"Oh, this is Jeanie." She tilts her head at the sound of her name.
"She's so cute." You lift your hand up but Jeanie shrinks away. You immediately pull your hand back, afraid that you've upset her.
"Don't feel bad, she's not great with people."
"Reminds me of someone else I know." You joke. Logan raises an eyebrow, are you talking about him?
"Me, I was talking about me." You add on quickly.
"I've never really been great at making friends or just being around people." The truth is you're lonely.
You're tired of coming home to an empty cold apartment after work. Sure sometimes you go out with coworkers or old friends but it's not the same. You like being alone but you don't like to be lonely. Does that even make any sense? Not that you want to burden Logan with your problems.
"I wanted to adopt a cat because I wanted a friend, is that sad?" You ask nervously. Logan chuckles, reaching up and placing Jeanie down on the counter nearby.
"Not at all, I get it." Logan was alone for a lot of his life and he's still adjusting to having friends. A family if you could call it that. A really weird and fucked up family.
"Play nice Jeanie, I like this one so don't go scratching them up." He whispers, but you catch his words anyways. A faint smile on your lips as you reach your hand out slowly.
"Hi Jeanie, I'm a friend of Logan's." This time Jeanie doesn't run away, in fact she sniffs your hand cautiously.
She looks back at Logan and he nods. You smile when she rubs the side of her face against your hand. Walking around slowly as she takes you in.
"I think she likes you." Logan says.
Carefully you pet her head, making sure not to overstep any boundaries and Jeanie seems to love it. She even rolls on her back surprising both you and Logan.
"Her owner passed away, that's why she's here." He explains as you continue to pet her. Her big eyes are too much to resist. You know senior cats often get overlooked but she deserves to be loved again.
"Is she adoptable?" You ask and Logan hesitates. The answer is yes but apart of him doesn't want to see her go. He's grown very fond of her. But...she deserves a home. Even if it will hurt letting her go.
"Yeah, she is." He says softly.
"If its okay with you, I want to adopt her." Logan's heart clenches, he smiles but he feels the sadness creep in.
"Of course, let me get the paperwork." When Logan disappears you see Jean start to look around, wondering where her friend had gone.
"Hey there girl, If it's okay I want to take you home. I promise I'll take really good care of you." You say gently.
Her little whiskers twitch and she gently headbutts your face. The connection you feel with Jeanie is something you just haven't felt with any of the other cats. You want to love her and give her a nice warm home with toys and treats and anything she could ever want. But apart of you feels guilty knowing how close she is to Logan.
"Just need you to sign a few things and then pay the adoption fee." Logan says, coming back through the door.
Jeanie trots up to Logan and rubs her head all over his hand and torso. Purring happily as he scratches her head. But she makes no move to get on his shoulder, in fact she trots over to you and does the exact same thing. He's always heard that cats have a good sense of character, so he trusts Jeanies judgement here.
After signing the papers and paying the fee Logan helps you carry Jeanie to your car. You can see the hesitancy in Logan's face. The sadness behind those hazel eyes of his.
"Logan, do you want to say goodbye?" You ask softly. He was never going to ask for himself but you could sense he needs it.
"If you don't mind." He mumbles.
"Of course, I'll go put the rest of the stuff in my car." You touch his arm, squeezing it gently before giving them their space.
"Alright Jeanie listen up, you gotta be on your best behavior okay? You deserve this and I know they're gonna love you real good." Logan holds Jeanie up to his face. She just meows as Logan talks.
"I'll miss you bub, don't tell any of the other cats but...you were my favorite." He gives her one last chin scratch.
Jeanie headbutts his face one more time, rubbing her head along his jaw as if to say goodbye. You watch the whole thing from your car, you feel horrible taking her away from Logan. But you know that your building has a rule against more than one pet. If anyone were to take her, he's glad it's you.
Maybe...maybe this is your chance to talk to Logan. Your crush lingers but maybe you don't have to get over it. Logan walks over and hands her to you. He starts to walk away but you call his name, chasing after him.
"You know, I could really use some help with Jeanie. I mean I don't know what food she likes or her favorite toys or anything like that." You ramble, seeing Logan's face turn to that of confusion.
"I was wondering, if you wanted to come over for dinner tomorrow night? Help Jeanie get settled in and stuff." You ask nervously. Your anxiety building as you wonder if this was a mistake.
"You sure?" Logan asks, unsure if you're just doing this because you feel bad for him.
"Yes. I mean. I've been wanting to ask you to dinner sooner but I've never found the right moment because you're really hot and you make me very nervous but Jeanie is going to miss you and it would be cruel of me to keep you two apart so it's a win win situation and I'm going to stop talking now." The words vomit from your mouth before you can stop them.
Great now he's going to think you're creepy and lonely. Logan chuckles, a blush creeping up his face. Was it always this hot outside today?
"Dinner sounds great. I can't cook for shit but I can try for you." Your face breaks out into a smile, Jeanie purring as you hold her close to your chest.
"Then its a date." You say shyly. Logan steps closer to you, his eyes on your lips.
"It's a date." He starts to lean but Jeanie meows loudly making both of you laugh.
"Okay I should get her home, the doors always open if you miss her by the way." You tell him and he thanks you. He stands in the parking lot with a smile, watching as you drive away. Wade sneaks up next to Logan, scratching behind his ear before Logan pushes his hand off in annoyance.
"What the fuck?!"
"Look at you boy! Did someone decide to take you home?" Wade asks in fake excitement.
"Shut up." Logan grumbles, rolling his eyes as he turns around to walk back to the shelter.
"Is someone grumpy? How about we get you a new collar and some treats huh boy?"
"I said shut the fuck up red." Logan snaps but Wade just smiles wider. He's been waiting for someone to adopt his friend. Wade was this close to posting an ad on craigslist.
Old man mutant available for adoption. Loves beer, hates everything else. Is potty trained.
Wade sees the smile Logan's trying to hide. He's been waiting for you guys to get together forever.
"Aww does someone need a belly rub?"
"Touch me and die asshole."
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hedgehog-moss · 3 months ago
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Pls give recommendations for Odd books 🙏
Here we go, a list of literary oddity :) This post contains majestic spheres, alien taxonomies, cruel subway polytheism, a fourth-dimensional cat, disturbing earthworms, infinite space football, existential mussel terror, a Parisian absurdist time loop, and a picture of a telegraph-pole-man-cheetah. I'm not exactly recommending these books, in the sense that I won't take any complaints if you find them more odd than good, and some of them transcend the concepts of good and bad anyway.
• The Other City, Michal Ajvaz. It's all like this:
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• Contes du demi-sommeil, Marcel Béalu ('Half-asleep tales') —is the book that prompted my post about stories that have no ambition or justification beyond being odd. I'm sad that it hasn't been translated :( One of the tales is about a strange opaline sphere that rolls on the road. It doesn't accelerate when the road becomes a steep slope but continues rolling majestically. At one point it floats away towards the sky. Someone wonders if it was the moon. Someone else says authoritatively "It was an angel's egg." Everyone is reassured by this explanation. The whole thing feels exactly like remembering a dream you had. There is also a man who reads too much and whose body atrophies so only his head is left and his wife puts it in an egg cup for better stability.
• Leonora Carrington— The Skeleton's Holiday, or maybe the Hearing Trumpet. I've read them so long ago but I think the latter is the one with the old ladies and nuns? There's also a guy who was murdered in his bath by a still-life painter because he said there was a carrot in one of his paintings, but it might not have been a carrot? It's hard to remember details from this book without feeling like I might be making them up. Bonus Leonora Carrington painting which kind of feels like a short story:
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• The Codex Seraphinianus, of course. I wish there were more bizarre encyclopaedias out there.
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Also I love this review:
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• Sleep Has His House, Anna Kavan —I really liked the way this book used language; making life feel like a fever dream even more than in Samanta Schweblin's Fever Dream (which I really liked too.)
The eye is checking a record of silence, space; a nightmare, every horror of this world in its frigid and blank neutrality. The actual scope of its orbit depends on the individual concept of desolation, but approximate symbols are suggested in long roving perspectives of ocean, black swelled, in slow undulation, each whaleback swell plated in armour-hard brilliance with the moonlight clanking along it . . .
• The second half of Michael Ende's Neverending Story, where things get stranger! I remember the hand-shaped castle with eyes and the city of amnesiac former emperors and the miserable ugly worms who cry all the time out of shame then create beautiful architecture with their tears...
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• The Gray House, Mariam Petrosyan. This is the one I had in mind when I talked about a 'museum of the strange, but one you wouldn't want to be trapped in after closing time'. Another book that made me feel uncomfortable in a similar (good) way was Edward Carey's Observatory Mansions, the protagonist of which is a man who curates an odd private museum and can't stand the sight of his own hands.
• Oh, speaking of uncomfortable, and hands—He Digs A Hole, by Danger Slater. To me this book was in the more-odd-than-good category but I liked its refusal to have a coherent philosophical meaning. It's about a man who can't sleep so he goes to his garden shed and saws off his hands and replaces them with gardening tools. Then he starts digging a hole. And then it gets weird. (Read at your own discretion if you have a worm phobia; there's some body horror featuring sexually aggressive earthworms. And then it gets disturbing.)
• 17776 — Someone sent me an ask a few years back to recommend this online multimedia narrative to me and I really enjoyed it! Here's the summary, borrowed from the wiki page: Set in the distant future in which all humans have become immortal and infertile, the series follows three sapient space probes that watch humanity play an evolved form of American football in which games can be played for millennia over distances of thousands of miles. The work explores themes of consciousness, hope, despair, and why humans play sports.
• Saint-Glinglin, Raymond Queneau —the author admitted that this book presents some "internal discontinuities." I didn't like it much but I respect the talent it takes to write a novel where everything feels like a random digression, including the key suspenseful scene that matters to the plot. The one digression I loved had to do with the way the narrator is existentially horrified by various sea creatures. It's like he dreads them so much he can't help but think about them when he should be telling a story.
The oyster... This gob of phlegm, this brutal way of refusing the outside world, this absolute isolation, and this disease: the pearl... If I conceptualise them even a little, my terror starts anew. The mussel is even more significant than the oyster and even more immediately admissible in the domain of terror. Let us indeed consider that this little sticky mass whose collective stupidity haunts our piers, consider that it is alive in the same way as a cow. Because there are no degrees in life. There is no more or less. The whole of life is present in every animal. To think that the mussel, that the mussel has, not a conscience, but a certain way of transcending itself: here I am once again plunged into abysses of anxiety and insecurity.
Near the beginning he philosophises about what would happen if a man and a lobster were the only two survivors of the apocalypse. The lobster would break the man's toe and the man would say, "We are the only beings that remain on this devastated Earth, lobster! The only living beings in the universe, struggling alone against the universal disaster, don't you want to be allies?" But the lobster would disdainfully walk away towards the ocean, and "the sight of the inflexible and imperturbable lobster pierces the sky of humanity with its unintelligible claws." (I can't overstate how little this has to do with the rest of the book.)
• Autumn in Beijing, Boris Vian —needless to say the story does not take place in autumn nor in Beijing.* To the extent that it can be said to be "about" something, it's about people trying to build a train station in a desert with tracks that lead nowhere. (I just went on goodreads to check the title, and it's actually called Autumn in Peking in English. I also discovered that it was featured in a list of Books I Regret Reading. I liked this book, but I understand.)
(* French writers love doing this—like when Alphonse Allais said about his 1893 book The Squadron's Umbrella "I chose this title because there aren't any umbrellas of any sort in this volume, and the important notion of the squadron, as a unit of the armed forces, is never brought up at all; in these conditions, hesitating would have been pure madness.")
• The Library at Mount Char, Scott Hawkins—I fear this one makes a little too much sense for this list, but you can't say it isn't weird; and I loved it and recommend it any chance I get.
• The Eleven Million Mile High Dancer, Carol Hill —this book was so wacky and made me laugh. I've not yet managed to successfully recommend it to someone; its brand of odd didn't resonate with the people I know who've read it but that's okay. You could say it's about a woman astronaut whose weird cat disappears into the fourth dimension (or the quantum realm?) and she goes to space to save him—but that makes the book sound more straightforward and less messy than it is. Her cat leaves her a note before he disappears:
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• The Bald Soprano, Ionesco —fun fact, there's a tiny theatre in the Latin Quarter in Paris where this absurdist play has been staged every night for nearly 70 years, with the exact same set design and costumes and everything, like the actors are stuck in a time loop. They celebrated the 20,000th performance this year! There's an actress who has been playing her character for 40 years and said joining this theatre was like joining a religion. I've been going to see this play as a New Year tradition with my best friend since we were 14, so I love it madly, though I wouldn't say it's good, necessarily—the author said it was about "absolutely nothing, but a superior nothing."
• Statuary Gardens; or Les Mers perdues (apparently not translated) by Jacques Abeille. This man is obsessed with weird statues. Unfortunately I find his writing style rather dull—I feel like he takes strange ideas and makes them feel mundane in a bad way...! But his books still have a nice, quiet, oneiric atmosphere, and images that stayed with me, like a solitary gardener trying to grow stone statues in the depleted soil of a walled garden. Here are some illustrations from the second one:
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I'll look into some of the books recommended on my previous post! (and I agree with the people who brought up Cortázar, Borges, and Junji Ito. <3) Some potentially-odd books I have on my to-read list: Clive Barker's Abarat, Goran Petrović's An Atlas Traced by the Sky, Salvador Plascencia's The People of Paper, Jean Ray's Malpertuis; Jan Weiss's The House of a Thousand Floors; Brice Tarvel's Pierre-Fendre.
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lovedahlia · 2 months ago
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LOVERBOY ! SOLDIER BOY HEADCANONS ( 18+ ! )
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. . . bc i'm feeling so incredibly mentally ill rn. lemme live in this fantasy. that i believe to be true & how my pookie beloved would BEEEEE. idc if u think it's ooc this is my canon.
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ben greets you every time you see each other with a kiss on the back of the hand and some murmured words, like, "hey pretty."
he's constantly showering you with gifts.
flowers for when he does something bad, with a messy scrawled note that says "sorry for making you cry. kisses." or, "sorry i punched a hole through the door. love you." or, "not apologizing for beating that guy's face in. sorry it upset you though. kisses."
chocolates for when he comes over. two boxes, one for him, one for you, because he knows ( from previous experience ) that it irritates you when he'd steal from yours.
( it does not stop him still from stealing )
jewelry! every time he sees something that you would look pretty in! and he does the clasps for you.
he's a nuzzler. you made the mistake once of mentioning how his beardburn tickled and now he doesn't just aim to leave it between your thighs but he rubs his face on your neck and throat like a cat.
he's still gruff as fuck, but it's with more intent, now. he'll bend you over and throw your legs around and move you as he pleases but kisses each part along the way.
like. he puts your legs over his shoulders when you're pinned beneath him and kisses your ankle. he puts you on your hands and knees and trails little kisses down your spine.
don't get him started on hickeys. seriously. he bites.
the aftercare is so lovely with him :( he absolutely doesn't listen to your insistences that you're fine. he's already running a bath for you, WITH bubbles, even though it wastes your pretty soaps.
he just likes to be able to scoop some bubbles up and pile them on your head while you're in there <3 bc oh yeah, he is washing u. don't even try to argue.
long days = him not saying a word when he gets home = he's just immediately snatching you from wherever you are to drag you to the nearest seat so he can sit with you in his lap. many dinners have been burnt bc of this.
he likes when you play with his hair! it makes him feel like something gentle and kind and deserving of it, when you treat him so lovely. even though he only ever cares what people think of him with you, and only cares how he behaves in front of you.
praise <3 you could walk into a room and he'd be like "my pretty baby's so damn steady on their feet, my god." he wants you to have the biggest ego on the planet actually
he also likes to remind you of how well you take him when he's fucking you.
he WILL and DOES pay attention to your cues. you're overwhelmed? need a break? he's not questioning it. maybe he'll tease you that "you didn't need a break last time he was so rough" but that's all.
forehead kisses. he is tall. he is kissing the top of your head, your forehead, or your temple, whenever he damn pleases.
he has probably killed people for looking at you wrong or being mean to you. at the very least he threatens it, because how could someone be mean to you? you? his baby? the one who's never done a thing wrong in your life?
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. . . of course my first post over here is me being soldier boy's biggest simp in the universe. kissin the ground he walks on. literally im there on the ground rn doin it do u see me.
tags <3 @figthoughts @honeyryewhiskey @titsout4jackles @deansbeer @aileenunfiltered @bluemerakis @deansbite @beausling @ultravi0lence14 @starzify @angelblqde i don't remember all my mooties to tag over here ... if u are forgotten pls take me out back n shoot me 4 this mistake.
property of the DAYLIGHTED franchise! © i do NOT give permission for my work or ideas to be used, rewritten, or reposted!
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joejhang · 1 month ago
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tgr spoilers !!!
ive JUST finished it it is 2am where i am rn these r my very incoherent and chaotic first thoughts:
canon jeandrew interaction SAVE ME the way they talk about neil makes me sick god GOD
the interview...everything surrounding it...hannah bailey when i catch u...
FUCKBOY JEREMY KNOX YOU OWN ME GOD HE'S ACTUALLY HHHHHHH
jeremy i'm sorry i was truly TRULY unfamiliar with your game
reading this like: oh jeremy gets BITCHES (leo, faser, elias, the sheldon guy???, mystery guy with the shirt and cologne, dexter...this is getting out of hand)
NEIL...get UP my baby bunny GET UP GIRL
sorry but the image of neil getting his ribs bashed in and curling up on the floor of the court in a ball...like that's my shayla...that's my bunny rabbit what the fuck ru doing to him....
grayson's dead WHO ELSE CHEERED
kevjean...oh they make me sick they make me SO SO SICK the way they interact with each other...there's so much flavour oh god
kevin being like "did u actually read any of the trojans' articles or where u too busy staring at jeremy's photos-" and jean elbowing him to shut him up KEVJEAN YOU ARE SO DEAR TO ME
kevin defending jean to the press YEP YEP I KNEW IT WHAT DID I FUCKING SAYYYYY
wow jer's backstory is even MORE fucked up and messy than i thought
that MESSY AHH ravens v foxes game...andrew's broken CLAVICLE god i was shaking
INSANE jerejean scene when they were getting ready for the banquet absolutely INSANE
jeremy lore goes CRAZY
andrew and his insanely acute gaydar...how i love you
andrew asking jean if grayson touched neil...andreil you make me so sick so insanely unwell about them
kevin and andrew not knowing abt neil's little visit to jean is SO funny to me
NEIL STILL BEING A LOUDMOUTHED LITTLE SHIT TO THE PRESS UGH I LOVE YOU SO
"fuck what i deserve. what about what i want?" modern poetry. to me.
jean beating bryson's ass...laila was SO real for being like that was so sexy...as a lesbian too...real asf
more of jeremy being a piece of shit please i love it so much jean was right it makes him SO much more interesting
kandrew and kevneil still going strong
jerejean is absolutely insane in this book like...it would be less obvious if they kissed tbh
"give me a name. i will kill him." GO FERAL JEAN GO FERAL GOD HE IS. SO FINE.
the way jean staring at annalise left a bad taste in MY mouth asw, jer real asf for getting jealous
jabberwocky moreau you are MINE
"why can't you fuck someone who respects you?" wow. what do i even say to that. wow.
teenage dirtbag jeremy is real and dear to me. sneaking into his ex-situationship's house through the window??? jumping down and stealing his mother's roses??? he's so sexy i'm sorry
JEAN you are HEALING how i love this man
"he's handsome. the dog is cute, too." AHHH RENEE I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU
i like how the "spicy scenes" in this book were literally all just jer's hookups with random guys every five chapters or so
service top jeremy...he's like...always on my mind
jeremy CLOCKING kevjean so fast was crazy to me and kevin clocking jerejean asw...the trio we didn't know we needed
cody noticing the way jean says jeremy's name had me CRYING they were so real for that
cody and jean the best duo ever methinks
i like how every time jean thinks of jeremy in a romantic way he immediately backtracks and is like "let's not think about this"
"emotional procrastination" is one of the funniest terms i've ever heard
jean kissing cat's temple...he makes me violently, violently ill
jeanneil save me...i will always come back to you...
will not be recovering any time soon do not attempt to contact me
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crimsonbubble · 2 years ago
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no bc just imagine how sexually frustrated miguel would be after chasing you around like cat and mouse… the breeding has entered the chat
cw. nsfw, afab!reader, breeding kink, creampies, hair pulling, degradation, overstimulation, a bit of manhandling, improper use of webs *not proofread, just pure horny
[I want him so bad why can't he be real 😔😔😔]
MINORS DNI!!
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he's getting tired of this, but your pretty eyes and soft lips draw in him each time he swore that he wouldn't fall for your games. as tired as he is, he always lets you get away with it.
letting you get away with it a little too easily. though now he's stopped his chasing, trying to keep himself occupied to stop himself from playing into your games. he can feel your eyes on him, burning into his back as he continues working through anomaly reports.
as you tried to sneak up on him, you felt something spread across your chest, wrapping around your arms. with a sharp tug, miguel pulled you into him. you collided with his chest, a hand holding his webs and a hand on your lower back. you struggled against the webs, only making him spread more around you.
miguel quickly tugged your mask off, a smirk playing on his lips as he saw the shock written on your face. "not so tough now, huh?" you struggled against the webs again, trying to pull yourself away from him. "don't try and run from me now, you earned this."
miguel let out a grunt, pushing you up against his desk. he pressed a heavy hand to your back, webbing your wrists together. with little to no care, his talons rip through the crotch of your spider suit. the cloth is torn to shreds on the platform. "you've been nothing but a pain in the ass,"
miguel takes in the sight of you bound in crimson webs and bent over his desk. "a real thorn in my side." you try to peer over your shoulder only for miguel to press your head down to his desk. "we're not done til I say we're done." he disengages his suit with a flash, grinding his throbbing cock through your folds.
"you're lucky I'm even letting you have my cock." he says this yet he's just as needy for you as you are for him. the back and forth, the pushing and pulling, the cat and mouse games; he loves them but sometimes all he really wants is to web you up and fuck you til your legs give out.
and that is exactly what he's going to do. miguel lets his own fantasies and desires lead him, letting himself act on his impulses. miguel bottomed out in one sharp thrust, your walls convulsing and tightening around him as he fucked you. each thrust was heavier than the last, hips hips knocking you up further onto his desk.
with the hand pushing your face into his desk, he's tangling his fingers into your hair, pulling your head back as he rocked his hips into yours. you can't get words out because of how rough his pace is. miguel set a hand on your hip, using it to pull your ass back on his dick.
every thrust in and pull back forced his cock deeper, stretching your walls to accommodate his size. you're practically seeing stars shoot across your vision, mouth hanging open with each moan and cry that leaves you breathier than the last. with how easily miguel is leading you to orgasm, you know that you're not getting out of this for a while.
"only the first and you're already this fuckin' messy, huh?" the condescending tone makes your pussy flutter, as miguel tracks a finger over your pulsing clit. he rubs circles against the throbbing bud as you tumble head first into another orgasm. "m-miggy-" the words are caught in your throat, being passed by lewd cries and heavy moans.
your slick is gushing around his cock, and the wet noises of skin on skin finally make it to your ringing ears. miguel pushes your head against his desk again, grunting as he speeds through his release. it's a flood of warmth as miguel keeps his pace, groaning as much cum spills out of you. "fuck, look at you. such a messy little thing."
you can't tell up from down as miguel guides you to another orgasm. you're trying to alleviate the heavy plows of his hips by raising to your toes, but it only motivates miguel to go even harder, as if he's trying to knock the sense out of you. your eyes are blurring with tears, the stinging of the overstimulation starting to bite.
in a feeble attempt at pushing miguel away, he pins your wrists against your back. he uses it as more leverage to pull you back on his cock, letting another heavy load paint your walls white. "it's okay, take it just like that." the moans he's letting out are deep and guttural, a noise you would've missed if you weren't being drowned in his mere presence.
you're struggling against the webs again, the tingle of the overstimulation reaching new heights. miguels superhuman nature granted him increased stamina and endurance, making it easy for him to ride out his second high while you're crashing through your third. "c'mon now, is that all you got?"
you outwardly whine at his words, pushing your hips back to meet him halfway. miguel leans down, his chest to your back as he kisses up your neck. his fangs pushed against your skin, lightly grazing it with a featherlike pressure. it's as if he's teasing the idea that he could sink his teeth in. he very much could but he wants you to feel everything that he's doing to you.
he's got you trapped, and he doesn't intend on letting you go any time soon.
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xiepheer · 1 month ago
Note
If you're up for it, how about a headcanon of reader, shadow milk, and pure vanilla as a throuple? Feel free to go both SFW and NSFW if your mood is up
Truth and Deceit
Pure Vanilla cookie x reader x Shadow Milk cookie
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Hello everyone! Honestly tysm for the likes in my previous post!
ANYWAYSSSS reader will be a fem here!
Hope yall enjoy this! ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧
Also so sorry if this is bad 😭🙏
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Dating the truth and deceit is crazy work.
Imagine just having a calm boyfriend and a boyfriend that wastes his time on shows, carnivals, puppets, etc.
That's exactly what it is.
Pure Vanilla cookie would most likely be the calm and collected one in your throuple.
Meanwhile Shadow Milk cookie would be the one who mostly be the chaotic one and the one who gets in trouble all the time.
And you have to handle all that.
Both truth and deceit loves you very much.
The truth would spend his time being with you, teaching you ways of Earthbread.
The deceit on the other hand, would let you watch with him as he manipulates cookies. Making them his puppets for his shows.
Pure Vanilla cookie would scold him whenever Shadow Milk cookie teaches you things like how to manipulate cookies.
But very often, Shadow Milk cookie wouldn't care about him and would continue doing so.
Why would he listen to him anyways.
These two had different jealousy.
For Pure Vanilla Cookie, it is simply just talking about it to you and how it made him feel slightly jealous and would politely ask for you to slightly distance from them a little.
For Shadow Milk cookie, he would NOT talk about it to you. He would manipulate the cookie using his strings to say mean things to you which can make you think they're actually being real at their words.
Then when you actually cried to them about it, both would comfort you.
But Pure Vanilla always suspects that it had something to do with Shadow Milk cookie.
Because of his slight smirk after you crying to them.
Pure Vanilla would talk to him about this but he most likely ignores him.
Both still love you very much.
No matter what, they love you and would do anything for you. (Pure Vanilla would do anything except for foul things like murder and robbery)
During events, Shadow Milk cookie would host the most incredible shows you would have ever seen and it's all for you.
Pure Vanilla cookie would make you a whole table full of delicious food for you, him, and of course, Shadow Milk cookie.
Since Shadow Milk cookie thinks giving you items and beautiful gifts make you happy,
So Shadow Milk cookie would give you the most beautiful jewels he could find all for you during Valentine's or birthdays or everyday.
Meanwhile, Pure Vanilla always gives you affection. The affection you wanted.
Shadow Milk cookie would also scare you sometimes which can end up to you crying or laughing. 50/50 chance.
And if you DID cry, Pure Vanilla would comfort you and scold Shadow Milk which ends up to Shadow Milk snuggling up to you at night as a apology.
Shadow Milk cookie is like an affectionate cat when it comes to cuddling. He would nuzzle to you or your chest and sleep there or on you.
Pure Vanilla cookie would lay on your lap and sleep there.
They would sometimes snuggle on both sides of you body if you're asleep by yourself.
Pure Vanilla cookie, the gentle ancient, hero, and lover
Shadow Milk cookie, the chaotic beast lover.
Though both don't usually get along, you managed to get them to get along overtime.
Both reminded you who you belong to. You belong to Them. Always.
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So sorry if this is short! I'm trying!
Anyways Pls correct me if you need to, I dont mind! Have a great day! (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)
I hope you enjoyed this!
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churipu · 1 year ago
Text
𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫! 𝐠𝐨𝐣𝐨
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featuring. gojo satoru x reader
warnings. cursing
note. i thought of this when i saw a"rating celebrities i have met" video on tiktok, i imagined what gojo would be like as a celebrity — hence this fic. enjoy <;33 god i want to make actor! jujutsu kaisen a series so bad.
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actor! gojo who first saw you during a fan meeting, and when you asked for a weird pose to do with him, he's immediately attached — like love at first sight?
actor gojo! who slips in his phone number when he was signing his picture that you asked him to sign, hoping that you, his very own fan would actually text him. because, he genuinely wants to get to know you better.
actor! gojo who receives a text from you during the night, and the first text he receives from you was a "is this a prank? if it's not, i'm going to roll on the ground and cry. if it is, i'm sorry you had to see this text." and he decided to play with you by saying it's a joke — but stopped when you actually believed in him.
actor! gojo who finds it funny that you still don't believe that the gojo satoru is texting you, so he decided to video call you to make you believe in him (you ended the call immediately and blocked his number for a bit after, only unblocking him when you got your head straight).
actor! gojo who eventually got to know you better, slipping in the time to video call you or voice call you during breaks in his busy schedule. sending you your cravings out of the blue, or even bouquets of your favorite flowers.
actor! gojo who will use his empty schedule to come and meet you — taking you out to eat or just spend the day in your home, or his apartment. even exhausted, he still wanted everything to work out with you, so he would do anything; even if most of the time, the both of you ended up napping together.
actor! gojo who sends selfies of himself or a short video of himself during his schedule so you could know what he was doing — pointing out the most unnecessary things in the video, like how he saw a cat (then taking a picture or video of the cat to send to you), or even telling you how he finished the shoot in a short amount of time, wanting you to be proud of him.
"hi! i just did a scene, and there was this really cute kitty — look, i named him tuxedo, 'cause his fur looks like a suit. isn't he cute? what do you think if i brought him home with me, i think you'd like him!" he said, panning the camera to the said cat, caressing its fur gently.
actor! gojo who checks his phone every time after a take in his shoot to see if you had replied to him, and when he sees your notification, he gets so motivated to do his shoot. and when you don't, he's pretty upset. he turns into a big baby and asks everyone in the set what it meant if someone replies late, he is so dramatic.
actor! gojo who if asked about his ideal type during interviews, mentions and describes your personality and looks. and everyone won't know that he was talking about you, he sees people talking about how specific his words are and speculates that he was seeing someone.
actor! gojo who trended on social media after that particular interview and the account who first speculated how specific his description is, and now the whole world is saying he has a secret lover or is dating backstreet.
actor! gojo who then receives a text from you asking about if he was seeing someone because of his trending name. and he decided to ask you out for good — telling you that it was you he was describing, and he would be glad if you'd go out with him.
[ you ] : you're trending omg
[ gojo satoru ] : i know :D
[ you ] : but now that i rewatched the video, it does seem like you're describing someone, who is it? 😏
[ gojo satoru ] : idk if you're nonchalant or you're just pretending not to know :/
[ you ] : ???
[ gojo satoru ] : it's you, silly. i'm describing you to the world, so now that i've said that — can i please be your boyfriend?
actor! gojo who immediately drives his way to your house when you said yes to him being your boyfriend; he had been holding back the urge to kiss you, holding you close, so when he's yours — he just has to have you close to him.
actor! gojo who was a little upset when you said you wanted to keep the relationship a secret from the world so his fans wouldn't be mad at him. but he accepted it, as long as you're comfortable.
actor! gojo who makes it clear to people on set, including his make up artist, and even director that he now has a partner; and that he's madly in love. everyone on set listens to him talk about you every single day, gojo is so lovestruck that he can't stop talking about you, telling people on set how great you are and how deeply in love he is with you.
actor! gojo who still slips in random selfies and videos of him during work so you won't overthink, he will tell you what he's about to do and with who even if you didn't ask — he didn't want to keep his partner waiting for him, he's communicative to what he's about to do so you won't worry.
actor! gojo who brings you out on a date to a fine dining restaurant one night and it turned out to be the gravest mistake ever when he finds his name trending the very next day, all for the wrong reasons.
actor! gojo who's first worry is you when he was trending. half of his "fans" were bashing the mysterious person (you) off, saying the most mean things ever, and half of his fans were happy that gojo was on a date with you, telling him how they're really happy that he's out on a date despite his busy schedule.
actor! gojo who makes sure you're alright first, telling you how you should never listen to whatever his "fans" are saying — because they're definitely not right, and they're just jealous. he tells you that he will resolve everything, so you don't have to worry about anything.
actor! gojo who clarifies, by quote retweeting a tweet that was meant to hate on you — clarifying that he's married to you (even if he's not), and that you're his partner. he EMPHASIZES on how he's not hesitating to sue anyone who delivered hate, and he's personally keeping track on the usernames of people who had made a hate towards you (he jots them down and screenshots them).
and most of these account decided to deactivate right after his open clarification. losers.
actor! gojo who then made a proper clarification by saying that he is indeed in a relationship with you and that you're his spouse (not yet), and he told the whole world how he won't hesitate to take legal actions to whoever decided to mess with him, his personal life, or you.
actor! gojo who was happy when most of his real fans supported both him and you, and tell you both how happy they are. he giggles and kicks his feet reading the comments about how you both are definitely going to last, and how you both will be the best couple ever. he screenshots them and make an album just for these comments, showing them to you to reassure you that everything was going to be fine. you were going to be fine. you both were going to be fine.
actor! gojo who was asked about you during interviews and he gets so happy and smiley that he gets to show you off in front of the camera, telling everyone how deep in love he is, and how you treat him like the best person in the world. the video went viral and people were so envious of you.
"oh, my spouse? best. person. ever. i met them during a fan meeting, yes. they were a fan of mine — i could say it was love at first sight, i look at them and i just knew i wanted to marry them."
people then began to believe that they have a chance with their own idols, most of them making this a meme, and they use gojo as one of those tiktok standards videos.
actor! gojo who still sends you selfies and videos after a long time of dating, never breaking the routine. even when he has a schedule out of the country — he still makes time for you, engaging in video calls and voice calls despite the time zones, sends you the sweetest voice mails when he can't do a call and brings you the best souvenirs ever.
actor! gojo who casually assumes that you both are married since the first time you both got caught — he bought you a ring, and just slips it on you, telling you that you're both now married. and you casually accepted, you both had your own moment, made the official marriage certificate without anyone knowing. and the next second, he just announces to the whole set who knew about his "clarification" that he's actually, for real, honestly, married to you. and he tells them his clarification wasn't just a lie to get out of the situation.
actor! gojo who posted your face for the first time in his social media after so long, and he trended again. this time, with you. the fans were so happy, he gets so happy when his fans compliments you — and he happily retweets and reposts every single thing they say about you. he's such a proud husband.
actor! gojo who mentions your name whenever he wins an award, once again telling the whole world how he wouldn't be able to make it until now without you by his side. and how he's so thankful that you're always there even during his toughest times. he has a habit of ending his award speech with a: "y/n l/n, you're the love of my life, i love you. mwah."
a fan of his made a compilation of his ending speech for you, and posted it on twitter, which of course, went viral.
actor! gojo who constantly posts you and writes about you on his social media with the cheesiest captions ever, and people were down for it. telling you how lucky you are to have a husband like him, and gojo always replies back by saying he was the lucky one.
actor! gojo who finds out you read fanfictions about him when you miss him, he pokes fun at you for it — but finds you really cute, then you both make it a routine to read fanfictions of him.
"oh, i would totally do that. how did they even come up with these? they're really good at this," gojo laughs, laying his chin on top of your shoulder as you scrolled your phone.
actor gojo! who gets so happy when you come to visit him on set, and gets so motivated because you were there real time to see him on the act. and spends his break with you, the crew on set gets so disgusted by him and posts about how gojo acts around you on social media — and the fans are finding it hilarious, they ask the crew for more information about gojo and you.
actor! gojo who definitely brings you to red carpet awards, wanting you to be there with him. asking the paparazzi to take many pictures of you so that he could save them, and they do. taking your pictures from different angles, posting them on social media so gojo could save them.
actor! gojo who refuses acts where he has to kiss another actor/ress, he didn't mind holding hands or hugging. but when it comes to locking his lips with another person who is not you — he won't do it. even when you tell him that it was fine since it was his job, gojo still refuses, and directors would go lengths as long as gojo will act for them, cutting out the kiss scenes and settling for something less intimate.
actor! gojo who sometimes get caught by paparazzi when he's on the way to visit you or when he's buying a gift for you. telling the paparazzi they shouldn't upload the pictures until a specific date when he's planning to surprise you, and the paparazzi agrees (sometimes), but when some of them uploaded the pictures right on the same day, he gets so upset that they ruined his surprise for you.
actor! gojo who protects you from shameless paparazzis, not hesitating to tell them off in front of the camera for you. because, let's all be real, most paparazzis could be a pain in the ass, they could be awful, and they could be really persistent.
"hey, back off from them. i'll fucking hurt you if you get closer, understand?" and these paparazzi will taunt him for it, but gojo could care less about them, he only cares about your safety.
"i'll ruin your fucking camera, y'piece of shit. don't you fucking dare touch my spouse, i'm serious." he mutters out, pushing away a man who had undoubtedly came rushing over, trying to get you out of the way so he could picture gojo.
actor! gojo who makes it clear that he won't tolerate people being hurting you at all. and he won't be afraid to take a risk to hurt them back for you.
actor! gojo who will sacrifice his job for you. because on camera and behind camera, all he thinks about is you.
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© CHURIPU 2024 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE
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