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samkerrworshipper · 4 hours ago

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so win.

alexia putellas x reader

no fuel quite like my procrastination to not do other things i need to do. this is porn without plot, i’m not ashamed of it. it’s also unedited and has been worked on after a day of clinicals so if there are spelling mistakes and grammar mistakes i apologise. i wrote this in like 3 hours lol. i’m also a mess at the moment and actually avoiding my whole life so this is my outlet. anyways i wrote smut! for the first time in forever ;) also for the sake of this let’s ignore timezones bcus i couldn’t rewrite the start of this to make it work lol.

warnings: smut, 18+ viewer discretion advised

You’re not with Alexia when the campaign drops. You’re not even watching the game, you’ve never been quite able to wrap your head around the nfl thing or get into like your girlfriend, the rules of rugby have been so ingrained in your mind from childhood that seeing men run around in massive pads just gives you an ick.

You’re not even the person who sees it first, you’re sitting in a cafe trying to get some studying done because it’s impossible to do at home when your clingy girlfriend insists on sitting, holding, grabbing or clinging onto any part of your body when she’s bored. It’s like trying to keep a five year old entertained, and it always ends up with you sacrificing whatever coursework you have and being endlessly stressed when you fall behind. You simply leave studying for when Alexia is out of the house or when you have time to study elsewhere.

You’re heavily engrossed in rewatching a lecture you’d missed the previous week due to training when your phone lights up. It’s no exaggeration, your phone screen goes from being blank and dark to suddenly notification after notification pouring in. Different groupchats, instagram tags, text messages. There’s another ten minutes left on your study clock before you’re technically allowed to take a break but with every thing that pops up your only become more curious. Curious enough that you look down at your clock with complete disregard and reach for your phone. It’s sitting next to your laptop, it’s supposed to be upside down to minimise distraction but when you were watching the lecture it stopped you from being able to check the time and you liked to watch as the time ticked by.

You click onto you groupchat first, a mixture of Barca girls, mostly the older ones. Most importantly Mapi, who has bombarded the groupchat in a matter of seconds, with image after image of your girlfriend.

You click onto them harmlessly, Alexia has a series of campaigns that you’re aware of that are coming out in the next few months. As you’re waiting for the images to load you try and remember if she’d told you about any coming up, there was something for Cupra at the end of february and a big campaign for more than eleven in march, and a few smaller things amongst it but nothing you could think of that was due to release today, or in the next week.

When the first image loads, you’re eyes almost bug out. Your throat closes, the oxygen leaves your lungs and you feel almost dizzy. You have to blink multiple times to clarify that what you’re looking at is real, it’s not just a hallucination of some wet dream you’ve had, it’s a real photo that exists in front of you. As you flick through them, you only feel more unwell, and a little bit wet… or a lot.

The first one is just Alexia’s face, staring straight down the lense. The way she’s been captured is almost animalistic, pink sports bra, big earrings, her hair in the wet look. It’s her eyes though, pointed straight on, the eye fuck look, like she’s staring into your soul the same way she does before she’s about to rail you, except it’s all magically been captured in one photo. You want to look at it forever, you’re scared you’ve actually lost the ability to use your extremities and all the oxygen has stopped circulating inside your body from the mix of shock and awe.

With as much power you have you flick to the next photo, and if you were already feeling unwell this feeling is close to death.

Alexia, looking over her shoulder, flexing.

All of her tattoos are on show, every single muscle is accentuated and you almost drool on your phone as you study all of the different parts of the picture. Alexia’s skin is literally glowing, effervescently in a way you cannot even begin to describe. You know from thousands of hours of tracing the skin of your girlfriends back just how strong she is, yet with everything emphasised more in the photo you feel like no matter how many hours you’ve spent staring this is adding a whole new perspective. Her arms, her facial expressions, the illusion of her hair sticking to her skin, the pink contrast against her skin.

You have to scroll, because if you don’t you won’t be responsible for the actions you engage in whilst in a very public space.

The following few pictures are of other athletes, basketball players, gymnasts, runners, other football players. For the most part, americans, yet your girlfriend in all her glory is a part of it.

You get through quite a few photos before it comes to the video, you were already gobsmacked, but the video seals it for you.

Alexia looks flawless, absolutely ethereal in every way. It actually feels like you are living in one of your fantasies or dreams but no this is very much real life and you are actually dating the person on your screen.

There’s no chance you’re going to get any work done, you can’t even get a coherent thought that doesn’t involve Alexia. Alexia’s abs, Alexia’s back, Alexia’s eyes, Alexia’s face, Alexia. You pack up your books and laptop with one thought on your mind, seeing your girlfriend.

Mapi’s private messages to you are filthy, message after message of her reminding your of what is now out in the world and about how now even more people are going to be even more obsessed with her.

You drive home over the speed limit and slightly recklessly, it’s not a long drive from your favourite study spot to you and Alexia’s shared house, but it feels like it drags on for forever. Your knuckles are white from your tight grip on the steering wheel and your unoccupied foot is bounding furiously against your floormat. You run a couple of close yellows, which are mostly red and have a complete disregard for giving way to anybody. You have an end goal, and that goal is to get home before you combust from all of the built up energy and tension in your body from the reruns of the pictures you’d seen.

You’re not even sure if you put the car in park when you swing into the driveway, you practically sprint towards the door, leaving Alexia’s prized cupra to fend for itself. Your hand is so sweaty you struggle with the door knob for a few seconds, your brain is frantic and you struggle and jiggle with it until it finally turns and there is nothing between you and finding exactly what you’re looking for.

Alexia isn’t in the front room, not that she normally would be. You pace your way through the hallway, past your bedroom which seems unoccupied and into the living room.

Alexia.

Alexia is sitting, on your couch, trying to look as nonchalant as possible, though it’s hard to appreciate it with the shit eating grin on her face as she tries to make herself look comfortable and like she’s actually lounging on your couch. Her body is tense, it gives away her whole bravado, you don’t really care though.

“You’re home early? You said you wouldn’t be back till lunch time, no?”

There is no acknowledging of her comment, you take your jacket off and lay it on the edge of the couch before unceremoniously pouncing on your girlfriend.

“I cannot believe you.”

Alexia makes it easy enough for you to straddle her lap, opening up her legs and making plenty of room for you.

You stare into her eyes and all you can picture is the photo of her, the look on her face isn’t dissimilar to the one captured, but it’s not quite the same.

“The campaign? Did I not mention it?”

You roll your eyes before leaning down, alexia goes with ease, her mouth opening up for you as soon as your lips meet hers. It’s all teeth and tongue, not quite a fight for dominance, just pure arousal.

“You’re a brat, and really fucking sexy.”

Alexia smirks against your lips, and then she bites back, her tongue fighting against yours.

“So you like it?”

You move your lips to Alexia’s neck, licking a line down her neck and kissing up it before biting down, foregoing any kind of gentle.

“Do I like my girlfriend looking extremely fuckable on the internet? Jury’s still out on that one.”

Alexia chuckles, leaning her head back to give you full access to her neck.

“Mm, muy fuckable.”

The laugh that leaves her mouth is enough fuel for you to nip her again, sucking a mark right above her collar bone, not directly visible but enough to make her sweat about keeping it hidden at training tomorrow.

“I’m going to need a private show in that outfit at some stage.”

You move back up to Alexia’s mouth, this time the make out is less frantic, you’ve gotten out some of your residual jitters.

“That can always be arranged.”

You tug at the hem of Alexia’s sleep shirt that she still hasn’t gotten out of yet.

“Bed first, fashion show after.”

In the swiftest motion possible Alexia is bringing herself up onto her feet, and lifting you with her. You wrap your legs around her torso, never breaking the makeout.

She makes it to your bedroom at a record speed, dumping you onto the mattress before climbing back on top of you, her shirt being thrown haphazardly into the air somewhere as she lowers herself down. There’s no bra to fight with and you reach for her breasts before her lips are back on you, grabbing and rolling at her nipples until she gets the message and has climbed fully onto the mattress on top of you.

Alexia stays on top of you, making out for a while, until she get’s bored with her hands and decides that you need to mirror her level of undressed. She flips you on top with so much ease that it doesn’t even surprise you, the photos on the internet showed Alexia’s muscles, but they didn’t show just how strong your girlfriend truly was.

Alexia didn’t mess around with your tank top and bra, tugging them off with the same kind of urgency that you’d been in to get back to the house earlier. As soon as the clothes are gone you’re flipped back onto the mattress, Alexia retaking her position. Her hands go straight to your tits, pinching and pulling in a way that makes your back nearly arch off the bed. You’re already aroused from your session in the coffee shop, but this is only adding fuel to the fire.

It takes everything in you not to moan immediately, you clench your jaw and bite your lip as Alexia elicits all different kinds of sensations.

‘Sé ruidoso bebita.”

As per usual, not much gets past Alexia, you try to relax just slightly, let yourself feel it all completely.

“How wet are you going to be when I finally touch your pussy, hm? How wet did my photos get you? All hot and bothered in the coffee shop like a little slut.”

There is no point in shaking your head, you just smirk, you’re proud of it, you’re proud that you get to come home to this and everyone else just has to enjoy Alexia from a far.

“Show me, reach into your panties and show me how wet you are and maybe I’ll think about touching you.”

You hesitate for a second, but then Alexia pinches on of your nipples and rolls your other breast in her hand and your hand naturally moves downwards, your hips canting up as you do so.

Your fingertips are glistening and dripping as you bring them out of your shorts, Alexia doesn’t hesitate to pull them straight into her mouth, sucking all of your arousal straight off.

“Alexia, please.”

Alexia licks her lips in a way that makes you so certain that she’s desperate for more, she’s just as turned on about this as you are.

“Pants off.”

As soon as the words leave her mouth your reaching for them hem of your pants and kicking them off, your panties go with them.

Alexia doesn’t wait, she moves her body downwards until her mouth is hovering right above you.

She looks up at you, hesitates for a second, it’s the exact same face as the photo, beautifully feral.

She doesn’t hold back whatsoever, her mouth goes straight to your clit and you’re already aroused, already dripping everywhere but you reach another level. Your moans are breathy and free falling.

“Fuck baby, feels so good.”

You’re a stuttering mess and far too aroused to try and pretend like you aren’t already close.

Alexia keeps a steady pace, licking and sucking at your clit and occasionally living long strips up from your pussy. It feels so good, earth shattering good.

“Ale, close.”

You expect her to pull back a little bit, normally she likes to prolong your pleasure just a little bit, the wait is worth the reward. But it seems like the both of you are too aroused to ignore the urgency of the situation. Alexia doubles down, her arms pushing your thighs further apart and reaching up behind you to grab at your ass whilst she enjoys having more access.

When you realise she isn’t going to let up you unclench your hands from the sheets and push them into Alexia’s hair, grabbing at the root and pushing her exactly where you want, grinding down against her chin.

It doesn’t take long at all, alread close as it was. Then Alexia grazes her teeth over your clit and doubles down and you see stars. Your body goes with you, shaking and tensing before relaxing as your enjoy the aftershocks. Alexia takes the opportunity, pushing two fingers into you and setting a brutal pace.

“Alexia, need a second.”

Alexia doesn’t stop, if anything she only goes harder, her fingers searching for your g-spot and finding it with ease. The overstimulation makes your stomach tight and yoru clit ache, in the best way.

“Una mas.”

You shake your head, even though it’s blatantly clear you’re going to give her another one, there isn’t really a world where you wouldn’t, not when Alexia makes it so easy to feel so good.

“You can give me one more bebita.”

Alexia’s palm grinds against your clit gloriously, it’s a bit too much for a few seconds but it fades as the pleasure overtakes.

Alexia’s favourite activity is amking you fall apart, watching you experience a kind of pleasure that is unmatchable, all at her own hands. Alexia adds a third finger, knowing that it’ll give you what you need.

It’s more than enough for what you need to reach a release. This time the initial orgasm lasts longer, you tense for a few seconds before you go boneless on the mattress. You melt into the sheets, your head lulling against the pillow as you breathe your way through.

Once you’ve stopped clenching against Alexia she pulls her fingers out, licking up every part of your orgasm, not leaving a single drop behind.

She crawls her way up to you, lying down on her side next to you, looking at the blissed out expression on your face.

Your eyes open lazily, a big smile on your face.

“You’re unreal, literally, how did I get this lucky?”

Alexia leans in, it would be rude to not kiss your lips at every possible chance, especially when your smiling at her like that.

“The real question is how I got this lucky.”

It the same kind of phrase that would elicit vomiting noises from your teammates in the locker room, and yet you love it all the same.

The kiss is soft, everything you need in the moment. It gives you enough confidence to reach your hands down inbetween the two of you, pressing down against Alexia’s front with one intention.

Alexia gasps into your mouth, and it’s enough guidance for you.

You walk your fingers up to the waistband of her pyjama shorts that she still hasn’t changed out of at nearly midday. You trail them down on the inside, unsurprised at her lack of underwear.

Alexia’s wet, the cotton of her shorts sticking to the insides of her thighs.

You part her folds, enjoying the way she moans and gasps into your mouth as you map your way through a different part of her body.

When your fingers find her clit, it’s easy to tell just how turned on she is.

You set a pace of fast tight circles, you’re well educated on Alexia’s body and when she’s this worked up this is the best way to get her to an orgasm.

You know she’s getting closer when her kisses get sloppier and desperate, her lips hang onto yours like they’re becoming an extension of her, like she’s scared that if you separate it’ll take part of her with her.

She shakes and grinds into you, searching for that last bit of stimulation she needs. When she infds it she groans into your mouth, her hips jerking one final time before they go weak, her body goes still for a few seconds. You slow down but don’t come to a full stop, pulling every last bit of her orgasm out for her until she’s tugging your hand out of her shorts.

Alexia presses some soft kisses to your lips before pulling you into her with one arm.

“If that’s what I get every time I take some nice pictures, maybe I should do it a bit more. See if I can get a job with Victoria’s secret or a swimsuit company.”

Alexia doesn’t need to see the look on your face to know exactly how all of your features would clenhc up and your eyes would roll.

“If you do that there will be a whole lot less sex for you and a whole lot more sessions with my vibrator for me. You’re cute, but I’d like to keep some of it for me.”

Alexia snorts, before tugging you in tighter.

“The fans would like it so much though, maybe I should just post some of the photos from the beach over the summer in Ibiza, the topless ones were cute.”

You elbow Alexia straight in the gut.

“How about you model the nike outfits for me first, and then we can decide how far you can take your new found modelling career.”

You’re still in slight disbelief that Alexia managed to keep something this big from you. She was obviously always having ongoing things going with nike, but something this big, and this special was hard to keep underwraps.

“I looked that good, huh?”

You roll even further into Alexia, pressing your whole body into hers.

“Muy bueno. New additions to the wank bank right there.”

You snort when you look over your shoulder and see the confusion on Alexia’s face, her english is good, but her english slang lacks in certain departments.

“Wank bank?”

You snort again, the innocence behind her voice makes it so much better.

“Just my folder for when I’m very alone on camp, and need some extra assistance.”

Alexia’s brain clicks, she laughs, and then the meaning must click in because she blushes beet red.

You stand up, already searching for your forgotten articles of clothing.

“Wait a minute, wank bank? What else is in this folder?”

You’re already tugging your pants on and trying to find your tank top which had apparently vanished into thin air.

“Hopefully whatever new photos I can find in the album of spares that was left over from this shoot.”

Before you can hear what else Alexia says you’re racing off in search of her laptop.

“Wait, I need to see this folder. Bebita, I need my own folder. WHAT IS IN THIS FOLDER.”

—————-

anyways have a wonderful day/night! i love you! somebody out there loves you! you are blessed to have this day and every other one to come <3

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peachdues · 17 hours ago

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FREE USE UNIVERSITY!

Tengen x Sanemi x Kyojuro x Reader Roomate Free Use AU • NSFW

A/N: a new mini-series. this is meant to be a headcanon post that I can add to whenever horny. I have no excuse for this. It’s straight smut.

CW: MDNI • explicit sexual content below • free use • threesomes • voyuerisum • somnophilia • oral sex • references to anal sex • just straight filth tbh • creampies

Some roommates do group movies or grocery trips to bond; your roommates, however, have adopted a different approach.

Tengen is the first to initiate this little exchange, and at the beginning, it really isn’t an exchange at all. Instead, it starts out as a simple request: stress relief. He’d come home angry and pissed after a lab went horribly wrong, and there you’d been, too irresistible to be hanging around the apartment in those too-short shorts. He’d taken one look at you, lounging on the couch in the living room, idly flipping through a textbook, and his frustration had made him bold enough to ask.

Maybe it had been the look in his eyes — fiery and sultry, an unusual contrast to his normal, loping swagger, that made you clench your thighs together. Or, perhaps it was simply because he was hot and it had been ages since you last got laid. Either way, Tengen ended up fucking you clear in the open, right on the couch. Every bit of it was hotter than you’d ever imagined — toe-curling and mind-numbingly good, the orgasm he fucked out of you strong enough to make you tear the glossy page of your text right from its binding as your fingers spasmed beyond your control.

Maybe it would have been a one-time only sort of thing, or perhaps even the start of a secret, roommates-with-benefits arrangement. But then, Sanemi came home right as Tengen was in the middle of pumping a second load of cum into you, and your secret was out before you’d ever fully had the chance to keep it. You hadn’t seen Sanemi’s face, as yours was pressed into the sofa beneath the mass of Tengen’s palm, but you did hear Tengen’s snarky little what, you want some, too?

Instead of answering, Sanemi had simply crossed the living room, drawing to a stop right in front of your head, and gently coaxed your face up from its place between the cushions.

Sanemi’s fingers lingered under your chin, the pad of his thumb thick with calluses. “Well?”

Call it orgasmic delusion or simple wantoness on your part, but your consent came with a dip of your head, and your lips parting around his thumb. The momoent you flicked your tongue out over his skin, Sanemi snapped, and his cock was down your throat faster than you could blink.

Kyojuro was the last to join your little arrangement, quite literally stumbling across the sight of you, standing at the stove as you waited for your dinner to heat while Sanemi was on his knees behind you, his face buried in your ass. The sound of Kyojuro’s books hitting the floor as he stared was met only with a casual glance over your shoulder and a smile of greeting, before Sanemi did something downright sinister with his tongue and made your eyes roll into your head.

Poor, sweet Kyojuro, still couldn’t bring himself to join in, no matter how many times he came across — or outright stared — at the way his two best friends used you so easily. You were kind and sweet, and a good roommate, so he couldn’t imagine debasing you that way, even if that quickly became the only thing he could think about.

He tried, oh, he tried, to resist. But your dealings with Tengen and Sanemi meant that you wore less and less while at home until you were lounging about in only the thinnest underwear or the shortest little tops — all of which could easily be moved out of the way when the moment called for it. Soon, Kyojuro found himself standing behind you while you did the dishes, his cock in hand as he furiously pumped himself against the curve of your ass. You always stayed in place when you felt his warmth bearing into you from behind, even going so far as to grind against him to help him along. He almost could have been satisfied with just this, until you began moaning for his cum, pushing your hips back almost in demand as you waited to feel him spurt across your skin. That’s when he broke.

Now, when Kyojuro is stressed — which is more often that you’d thought, to your surprise — you can almost guarantee he’s going to sit you down on the nearest surface and spread you wide.

Of course, it became obvious that all three of the boys were involved with you, and so, a roommate meeting is called. Details need to be hammered out, understandings need to be reached that everything was platonic and no one was at risk of developing any other feelings. Once that’s done, Tengen, always the instigator, is the one to suggest you as the group bonding activity. After all, you have three holes and two hands, he reminds you, slyly.

They’re fair, of course, so a deal is struck: you in exchange for your share of the rent. An exchange of goods for services, as Tengen had put it. They lived in this apartment on their own before you moved in, so cost isn’t prohibitive. The only bills you have are your own groceries and your personal shit, so really, what do you have to lose? Besides, they’re all hot as hell, and you’re young. Might as well enjoy the ride.

Sometimes they wait for the first one to finish with you, the other two wait in their rooms, pumping their stiffened cocks to the sounds of your whines and the other’s grunts or moans. Other times, though, one or both will join in, and you find yourself the object of three equally ravenous appetites.

And, free use really means free use. Scrolling through social media? Fun! But if Tengen sidles up to where you lounge on the couch, his cock hard and balls full, you know to open your mouth. And you’re more than free to keep browsing the web as long as your throat is available. Talking to your mom? No problem; Kyojuro is still lifting up your shirt and taking one of your pretty tits in his mouth. He’ll do his best not to groan and suck at your nipple too loudly, but he only has so much self control. Besides, his hot mouth and devilish tongue are guaranteed to have you desperate to get off the phone before you get off while still on it — especially if his fingers start playing between your thighs. Trying to shave your legs in the shower? Might want to put the razor down, because Sanemi caught one glimpse of your ass in the foggy bathroom mirror and decided it would look better with his cum leaking out of it. Your pussy too, for that matter.

To keep everything within the bounds of fair play, the boys did agree to one rule: once someone comes, they move to sometbing different. That way, no one monopolizes any part of you, and everyone gets a fair shot at cumming where they want. Though, as time goes on, you do learn that they have their preferences. Tengen loves filling up your greedy little cunt with as much as it will take, while Sanemi loves cumming all over your tits or face. Kyojuro had been a bit of a surprise, preferring not your mouth, but your ass to pump his frustrations into.

It helps that the only bottoms you wear when lounging around the apartment is your underwear. That means whoever happens to walk by can simply reach over and tug your panties to the side and sate their need without the fuss of buttons or belts.

That sort of convenience is also the reason you’ve learned to sleep naked. It’s far easier to come out of sleep with their tongue or fingers or cock already inside you than it is to be startled awake by wandering hands trying to find you beneath unnecessary layers in the dark.

Oh, don’t think being asleep matters, either. Your bedroom is public, as far as anyone is concerned. Besides, you don’t need to be awake to give your boys what they need, and that’s what this is all about, right?

Kyojuro was the first to pierce that veil, pushing into your room well after midnight one night, desperate and aching. Your body was far too pliant in his hands as he pushed your legs out of his way, his cock drawn to your center in the dark like a magnet. You’d woken up just as he fully sheathed himself inside you and widened your thighs to make room for him.

Of course, Kyojuro didn’t know how to be quiet, which meant the rest of the apartment quickly became privy to his late night activities. Even half-asleep, you’d sensed Tengen and Sanemi watching from your doorway, admiring.

“Atta boy, Kyo,” Tengen claps Kyojuro on his shoulder the moment he finishes moaning out his ecstasy, his limbs shaky and covered in a thin sheen of sweat. “Got her nice and ready for us.”

“Us?” You shoot back, your thighs rubbing lazily together as you savor the feeling of Kyojuro’s hot seed leaking out of you.

A hand — Sanemi’s judging by the roughness of skin — hooks around your ankle, tugging you to the edge of your bed before flipping you to your stomach. “You two woke up the whole damn apartment, so you’ve gotta help us get back to sleep.”

You smother your grin against your blankets. “That was Kyojuro, not me.”

Across the room, Kyojuro huffs out a half-hearted apology, still panting and breathless. In the dark, you can almost see the sweaty flush that always spreads across his chest after he comes; the glassiness that settles into his eyes once he’s successfully fucked every thought right out of his head and directly into you.

“Not punishment,” Tengen corrects, tapping the bulbous head of his cock against the seam of your lips. “Just a little late-night treat.”

Humming contentedly, you drag your tongue right across Tengen’s tip, savoring the hitch in his breath. Just as you part your lips to take his shaft into your mouth, you feel your mattress dip as Sanemi’s weight settles in behind you.

“Fuck you came a lot,” Sanemi groans at Kyojuro, dragging the tip of his length up and down your swollen cente to coat himself. “She likes that, though. Don’t you, sweetheart?”

Your moan is drowned out by Tengen’s raspy swear, the vibrations of your mouth around his cock forcing his hips to buck, pushing him further down your throat.

Sanemi chuckles and reaches under you, his fingers circling smoothly over your clit. “She’s good at holdin’ it, too.” He shuffles forward on his knees, his tip aligned at your entrance. “I’ll give you more, sweetness, don’t worry. Let’s see if I can get all of us off together again.”

Last week, Sanemi had come home to the sight of you on all fours with Tengen halfway down your throat. He hasn’t wasted any time in throwing his books to the side, unbuckling his pants, and wedging himself between your spread thighs, his own cock heavy and hard in his hand. Tengen must’ve warmed you up already, because Sanemi slammed his hips forward with no resistance until he was groin to ass with you.

You’d been the first to tap out, coming hard on him with a half-moan, half scream muffled by Tengen’s girth. The vibrations had proven to be too much for him, for not half a second later had his eyes rolled back, a strangled whine slicing through ragged pants and the sound of Sanemi’s skin clapping against yours. Tengen final thrust choked off the last of your air supply but before you could pull off him, he’d planted one massive hand right at the back of your skull and held you in place. Of course, the sight of Tengen fucking his cum down your throat and the way you creamed around his dick had Sanemi spilling into you hard and fast not a moment later, nearly going cross eyed in the process.

Now, with a single forward-pitch of his hips, Sanemi sheathes himself inside you with a loud swear. There’s no time for you to adjust; you didn’t need it, not when Kyojuro’s cum is steadily squelching out of you with every sticky thrust. Before long, your toes are curling against your sheets, the blankets fisted in your hands soaked with drool that spilled down your chin while Tengen languidly fucks your mouth, his fingers twisted hard in your hair.

True to his word, Sanemi gets all three of you off together, though it’s his orgasm that sets off the train of euphoria. He comes with a firm twist of his hips, his fingers digging possessively into the meat on your hips as he holds you flush against his groin. The feeling of his balls pulsing right against your swollen center sets you off next, your thighs trembling almost violently in their effort to keep you from collapsing into your bed. Yet, for all your struggling, Sanemi only cants his hips forward to prolong the length of his release. The force of his movements sends you jolting forward until your nose is buried in the coarse smattering of silver-white hair that covers Tengen’s groin. Predictably, that’s all it takes to send him over the edge, and Tengen spilled down your throat with a cracked Fuck!

All in all, no place — or surface — in the apartment is off-limits. The kitchen counter, the sofa, the shower, any of their rooms (including yours), the balcony, all of it is fair game when the mood strikes. No matter what you’re doing, no matter what time it is, if someone is hard, they’re coming to you to fix it.

For instance, there are only two bathrooms in the apartment, and though the boys were considerate in letting you take the bedroom with the private, attached bath, that doesn’t mean your shower isn’t as fair game as the rest of your room. In fact, of the two apartment showers, Sanemi prefers your standing enclosure to the boys’ shared tub.

He’s especially fond of your glass doors, which fogs up easily because that means he could press your body right against it and fuck you senseless, guaranteeing the imprint of your perfect body will be left behind on the shower door even even after his cum runs down your legs and the drain.

By the end of the month, there isn’t a single place in the apartment where you haven’t been thoroughly fucked. That is, at least, until the swing arrives.

I’m sure I’ll add onto this debauchery. I’ve no shortage of ideas, unfortunately for you all.

LIKES, REBLOGS, COMMENTS APPRECIATED!

#demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #sanemi shinazugawa #tengen uzui #kyojuro rengoku #kny #kny x reader #kny fanfic #kny sanemi #kny tengen #kny kyojuro #kny smut #demon slayer smut

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thewritetofreespeech · 3 days ago

Note

I really think Gale needs to know that he is competent and good at things even without his magic/ without doing his magic.

Gale× woman girlfriend tav where they have soft sex and Gale want to enhance the experience with his magic, but reader shows him that he doesn't need to.

---------------------------🟣----------------------------------

When Tav told him that she loved him back, he thought his chest might explode from just pure excitement & relief. Not the orb.

He had been fairly certain that Tav felt the same as him. Mentally reviewed all their moments together. Stolen glances. That moment in the Weave that still seemed to linger on his fingertips even now. But one was never sure of these things until they happened. And given how his last ‘grand gesture’ had ended, Gale was nervous that this would be another defeat as well. Yet to be accepted, to be loved in return by someone he respected & admired again, Gale could die a happy man. Should the right moment Elminster spoke of was to come.

For now, however, he wanted to focus on the now. He wanted it to be perfect. A vision, just like Tav was to him. To show her how deep his affection was for her, even with their short time together. He had it all planned. To show her his home. To show him where he found the most peace and solace when not at her side. Then to make love in the way of the gods by a perfect mending of souls & mind. It would be perfect.

Yet when he told Tav of his plan, she denied him. Saying that she didn’t want illusions, just him.

“Are you sure?” Gale was caught off guard by her response. Expecting that, when offered the opportunity to experience what so few mortals could, she would jump at the chance. Even with his limitations on the Weave between the tadpole and Mystra’s bars, Gale knew he could get them close to his experience in the heavens. He wanted that for both of them. More than what these simple husks of flesh could bide them. “I can do more than woo you. I could wow you.”

Tav chuckled at his comment. Amused, even though he was being totally serious, and reaffirmed that she wanted the man, not the magic.

Gale was entirely nervous at this point but tried not to show it. He had a plan and all that was out the window. What was he supposed to do now?? The wizard endeavored to stay calm and continue with at least the original plan of being with Tav. He didn’t know if they would have a moment like this again and he would be gods damned if he was going to waste it.

Conjuring just a small bit of magic for a bed, as his back would never recover from making love on the hard ground, Gale smiled when he saw Tav fall back on it playfully. She was always so funny. This odd kind of silly mixed with bravery. Gale couldn’t remember the last time he had been with someone who was silly. Mystra was always so serious, and her wizard acolytes from his school days were no different.

He watched Tav sit up on the bed. Beckoning him over with a look and gesture of her hand that held more magic in it to command than any spell Gale could conjure. He had to obey.

Climbing onto the bed with her, Gale leaned in to kiss Tav a second time. Deeper than the first. Her lips were soft, but a little chapped from their journey. It was warm though. That heat seemed to fill Gale to his bones. He’d forgotten what it was like being with a mortal after so much time with an immortal. Mystra always seemed happy with their coupling. Open and willing to reciprocate, but it was always incorporeal for them. Gale had made offers to pleasure her in other ways. Use what skills he had to please his goddess, but she always declined. As if unwilling to let her once mortal body turn divine be touched in any way resembling a human. At the time Gale had been contented with that. But with the clarity that distance and perspective could now offer, he could now see the benefits of both.

Gale gasped into their kiss as he felt Tav’s fingers brush over the front of his tunic. Down from his chest to his belly. The muscles twitch even with the slightest touch. He had forgotten about that too. Touch.

He moved from kissing Tav’s lips down to her neck. Her breath hitched as her pulse hammered against his lips. Feeling her life’s drum just there against her skin. Gale could understand why Astarion was so tempted now. As he kissed her neck and collarbone, his fingers danced over her body. Gale may not have magic in his fingers when it came to locks, but he was certainly dexterous enough to be able to do lacings & the like. Their garments melting away as if by actual magic.

Gale took a moment to push up on his hands and get a full look at Tav. She was beautiful. Radiant. The light on her skin. The pert of her breasts in the night air. The imperfections of scars, freckles, and spots here & there all perfect. The perfection of realism.

The wizard swooped back down to finish kissing Tav all the way down. Moving to her sternum. Toying with her breasts. The weight of them soft but noticeable as he worked them in his hand. He moaned in tandem with Tav as her fingers brushed into his hair as he suckled at her breast. Feeling her there, reciprocating, listening to her enjoy what he was doing to her, Gale thought he might burst. He was so hard, and the bedding he had conjured provided little relief to the pressure as he rubbed against it.

Gale continued his path down. Kissing over Tav’s stomach until he came to the apex between her thighs. “Can you open a little more for me, my love?” He was hesitant to use the term of endearment. Fearful that he might have pushed too far. Perhaps they were not ready for pet names. But when he saw Tav part for him with a shy little smile, he decided he would call her that every day.

Her scent flowed up to him as her legs parted. Sweet yet sensual. Gale felt his mouth literally water in reflex. How long had it been since he tasted a woman fully? How longer still had it been since he’d done this with a woman that he loved?

Even with the lapse in time, it was like a fish to water for Gale. Based on Tav’s moans & shutters he had not forgotten how to please with his verbose, practiced tongue. He swiped up through her center, teasing the nub at the cleft, before sliding back down to collect her sweet honey. His hands massaged her thighs which were warm and lax by his ears. Gods. How had he gone so long without this in his life? He felt like a starving man sat down in front of his first meal.

Gale moaned into her cunt as he felt Tav reach for him between her legs. Fingers in his hair. Gripping and pulling in pleasure. His cock was already rock hard but it jutted in excitement with every tightening of her fingers. He made quick work to finish lest he truly embarrass himself on their first rendezvous.

Tav cried out as she came. Her thighs tightening in his hand. She looked beautiful lying there all spent. The slightest hint of perspiration on her skin illuminated in the moonlight. Gale had seen gods, but he could think of no sight finer.

He crawled over Tav again until they were nose to nose. “Are you sure?” He wanted to ask again. Maybe she had changed her mind? Maybe this was enough for him to hope for?

Tav just wrapped her arms around his neck and braced her knees against his side. “Do it.”

The commanding voice sent a shiver down Gale’s spine. Enough to make him almost cum right there. He restrained himself and reached down to moisten his cock with spittle and pre-cum. Then he lined up with Tav’s entrance and pushed forward.

The two of them moaned. Gale did not expect how hot inside her would be, how tight. With Mystra everything was so open and vast. The vastness of eternity and the Weave open to them to express their feelings. Here, with Tav, everything seemed to file down to a single point. A single moment. Just the two of them in the whole wide world. Gale moved his hips back and pressed forward again. Starting a slow, easy rhythm. He wanted this moment to last forever; or at least as long as possible.

Tav held on to him and moved her hips back to meet him. The perfect partnership, just like their adventure. Gale leaned down to kiss her and was met with equal passion. Tongues melding, gasping breaths, hearts racing. Everywhere Tav touched him seemed to leave a burning trail across his body, waiting to consume him. Had it always been like this with mortals and he had just forgotten? No. Gale knew he would remember this if it had happened. It had to be Tav.

His hips sped up and Tav rose to meet him with glee. He could feel that he was going to climax soon, and it became his single focus for the next few moments before stumbled in his thrust with a low, powerful moan. White hot flashes across his eyes as he was sure was spilling inside her.

Gale broke from a final kiss with Tav in their coupling and rested his head against hers. He felt tired, but indeed sated as he anticipated he would be. Complete. Should the world and the orb come to swallow him whole, Gale would be able to do it with but one regret now on his mind. That he couldn’t be with her longer.

The wizard carefully dislodged himself from Tav and pulled her close with the conjured blanket to wrap them in. “We’ll need to head back before morning.” He reasoned. The others would come looking for them, and his spell of stars would not last forever. But it would for a little while longer. For now, he just wanted to spend the remainder of the night with Tav in his arms. As a man. As two lovers. Not a wizard and adventure on a path to save the world. Just him and Tav.

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plutosillywrites · 19 hours ago

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imagine plus size!reader going to the bar for a date— just to get to stood up.. but that’s okay, 141 is there for their night out, and could never say no to a pretty bird like you.

(i hope u like this nonsense :3)

you’ve never had much luck with dating, which you think for the most part you’re okay with, sometimes it just doesn’t work out when you think it will— but it does sting when all of your friends are snatched up and engaged or dating.

it leaves you asking if there’s something wrong with you— which you know is not true, but when you are so crushingly rejected every single time, you get sick of it.

and tonight, god you hope it’s different. you had been chatting up some pretty guy, and he was nice— attentive even, and you aren’t ugly by any means.your curves are to die for, the way your tummy is seen in dresses, and how your thighs and ass look in some good jeans— maybe you have a few more fat rolls than the average person, and your body held a plump look. but you looked damn fine with it too..

the cellulite— the hair, the skin. practically flawless, and as you slipped on your black dress with pearl accessories, and a beautiful vintage black bag. you were ready to go—

you slip your heels on, grab your keys and you’re out the door. locking your apartment door behind you (god forbid you forget again like that one time. you’ll always miss your good mixer that the thief stole.)

the walk there is quite nice, your date having asked you to meet up at a jazz club nearby, which was only a 10 minute walk.

you walk towards the front door of the place, bright LED letters adorned the top of the building. ‘THE JAZZ ROOM.’ it’s a nice, quaint place.

as you step inside the sound of the sax and sweet singing voice draws you in, you smile at the song being sung— and make way towards the bar, waiting patiently for your date.

what you don’t see however, is how 4 men sat back in their seats to get a better look at you as you walked in. johnny is the first to say something— “Fucking gorgeous ain’t she.” — the others hum in agreement.

you twiddle your thumbs, sipping on a fruity cocktail because— of course you can’t shoot whiskey, it’s been 25 minutes since you got here— you even showed up 5 minutes late.

you laugh, but not one filled with joy, one filled with disbelief. “i think im just gonna delete tinder. it doesn’t work— stupid apps never do.” youre mumbling as youre finishing off your drink, and fanning down the bartender.

johnny claps his hands, and goes to stand. “i think pretty bonnie over ‘er got stood up. blokes missing out— it’s alright though, i’ll go and swoop her up.” he shuffles out of the booth, the others make no move to disagree but simon chimes in by saying, “you better tell ‘er how fucking gorgeous she looks tonigh’. “

johnny then makes his way towards the empty seat beside you. the 3 men sit and watch— they trust johnny to woo you over, he’s just too good with words.

you ask the bartender for another cocktail, and as you go to take a sip you hear a gruff scottish voice from beside you. “what’s a pretty bonnie like you doing here alone?” you turn, and wow.

the man has a mohawk, and the most stunning blue eyes you have ever seen. he’s got a smile that has a warmth churning up inside— why is he staring at you like your the only girl in the world? and why does it feel so good??

“oh— uhm,, haha..” you trail off, “it’s a funny story, really.” you fiddle with the fruit on a toothpick in your drink, “i’m supposed to be on a date, but uhm.. he didn’t end up showing.” you grimace a bit, taking a large sip.

“well, he’s a bloody idiot.” the man says, he leans closer, resting his head on his hand. “my names johnny, you wouldn’t mind if i took his spot as your date, would’ya?”

a handsome, muscular man with a hot accent asking to be YOUR date? yeah, you’re not saying no to that! you smile, laughing so quiet johnny almost didn’t catch it under the music.

“no, i wouldn’t.. i’d prefer if you did.” you scoot your barstool closer, and tell him your name, your hand resting on the table dangerously close to his.

“you look stunning tonight, love.” he breathes out, he intertwines his fingers with yours, “fucking breathtaking— had my eyes glued to you since you walked in ‘ere.”

you look at him quickly, he’d watched you since you walked in? “you like what you saw that much?” you questioned with a frown, and his smile only grew. “fuck yes, and not just me—“ he leans you can see the rest of the group.

their eyes are hungry; with something else mixed in, and you can’t quite tell if its passion or lust. “—my whole team thinks you’re the prettiest girl in this whole place.”

your body goes slack just slightly, before letting a smile creep onto your face, resting your hand on johnny’s knee you leaned close to his ear.. “well, it’s rude to keep people waiting.. isn’t it?” you whispered.

“you’re right as rain, bonnie. why don’t we join them?” johnny mumbles back, already standing and tugging you near their table, his hand wrapped around your waist…

pt 2!! https://www.tumblr.com/plutosillywrites/775073803823890432/part-2-of-plus-sized-reader-who-gets-swooped-up

(an: johnny i love you. i love you and you just don’t know it.)

#johnny mactavish #poly 141 #poly141! x reader #plus sized!reader #tf 141 #tf 141 x reader #cod mw2 #simon riley x reader #x reader #idkimjustspewingmyideasimsorryifitsrushed

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marauder-misprint · 2 days ago

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Hello!! I’m your new follower and honestly your fics are so good 🥺 I love the “these damn stairs” one and I wonder if u could write part 2 because shy reader and gentle super friendly Remus trope is the best heh.

Thank youuu for following ❤︎

Here is part 2 to 'These damn stairs' and there will be a part 3 because I can't just let it end here :) Might be a few days before I'm able to post part 3 because I got some really good requests in my inbox that I want to get to!

'It's a date'

Remus Lupin x reader

2.2k words

cw: fluff

Talking to Remus still felt like you had the eyes of the school on you. This meant that it was Remus who talked first. You would give him a small smile or a wave when you passed him on your way to a different class, but it was always him who came up to your desk before or after a class you had together. It was him who still came to sit with you at lunch; your friends warmed up to him quickly and proceeded to tease you about him when he was gone.

You continued to study with him too. He’d wait for you outside the library before walking with you back to the small table from that first study session. With every passing day, you slowly began to be more comfortable in his presence. You were able to hold a conversation with him. It was a slow growing friendship, but it was growing.

“You’re sure you don’t mind studying with just me?” you had asked once, worrying that he missed all of the attention that he used to get in the library because he was smart and nice.

He just smiled at you, leaning toward you to say, “I really don’t mind. I’d rather work with you over anyone else.”

That left you blushing for the rest of your time in the library that evening. Remus always knew what to say to get that blush to reappear. More often than not, you would leave your encounters with Remus with a pink face and racing heart.

You were thrown off when you showed up to study with Remus on Saturday and he wasn’t waiting for you outside the library. You considered waiting for him to show up but decided to check inside just in case. You found him sitting at a larger table with his friends. There were open chairs on either side of him with the other three boys on the opposite side of the table. The sight sent your mind spinning as you tried to remember the conversation when you discussed studying today. You didn’t recall him mentioning the rest of the Marauders would be there. Plans must’ve changed.

You headed toward a different table, your usual before you started sitting with Remus. You didn’t want to interrupt their “Marauders Study Session.”

However, as soon as he saw you, Remus called you over.

“You know James, Peter, Sirius, yeah? Hope you don’t mind they came today. I’m afraid they need the extra push to get stuff done.”

You do mind but god forbid you say something and make a scene. So you nodded and sat down next to Remus. You attempted to keep your things more consolidated than you usually do. You didn’t want to encroach on Peter’s or Sirius’ space. It took you longer to fall into your studying groove with the entirety of the Marauders at the same table as you; you’re positive that anyone and everyone passing by is confused by it. You felt like an outsider intruding on something sacred. It didn’t help that every time you looked up, you swore at least one of them was looking at you or Remus. You’re a bit uncomfortable. It’s not like you’ve ever really talked to any of them.

“So, erm, how long has this been a thing?” Peter asked after you caught your eye from across the table.

A thing? What on earth did that boy mean?

“Excuse me?”

“We’ve been studying together for a little over two weeks,” Remus said, shooting you a quick smile.

Oh That’s all.

Remus’ answer made the question make more sense. You supposed it was a thing that Remus was studying with one person rather than a herd of girls and essentially playing teacher. You berated yourself for thinking that Peter had meant something more.

“Right, studying,” Sirius said with a smirk.

Nope. What?

You pursed your lips together and train your eyes on your assignment. That is what you had been doing with Remus. That’s all you’ve been doing.

“Shut it, Padfoot,” Remus warned.

He glared at his friends. He had warned them ahead of time to be nice to you, to try not to scare you off. He knows you are shy and more reserved. He didn’t want to cancel studying with you so that his nimrod friends didn’t fall behind on their own assignments. But now, he was beginning to regret inviting them.

Remus reached for a small scrap of parchment and scribbled on it, “Don’t worry about them” before sliding it into your view. You took notice of it and nodded. He lowered his head to get into your view as well. He raised his eyebrows as if asking that you’re okay. You drew a simple smiley face on the parchment. He nodded and returned to his own assignment. With both of your heads bowed in focus, you missed the shared look between the other three boys. You were able to get some work done. The lingering feeling of eyes on you was impossible to shake. You tried to think of a reason why they would be so interested in you, but you kept coming up short. Well, not completely. You had ideas, but each seemed more ridiculous than the last and one was just downright hopeful.

“Is it true you started talking because you got your foot stuck in that damn step?” James asked as he closed a book he was using for his Herbology assignment.

“Prongs!” Remus hissed as your face turned beet red.

“Uh, I guess?” you said meekly.

You tried not to think about that embarrassing day, even if it did lead to your first real interaction with Remus. It wasn’t a moment you wanted to relive.

“Must’ve been some fall though,” James continued, despite the glared daggers from Remus. “Certainly got our boy’s attention.”

Remus’ face was beginning to turn red as well at this point. He really, really wanted James to stop talking; it was at the point where he was debating Silencio.

“Oh? What… what do you mean?” you asked, biting the inside of your cheek.

Sirius snorted a laugh. “Sweetheart, you should hear how much he talks about you.”

Your eyes went wide. You weren’t sure what you had expected but it wasn’t that. It took a second for the words to fully sink in. Remus talked… about you? Often? With enough frequency that his friends made note of it? Is that why it felt like they kept staring at you? They were just trying to figure out what Remus found so intriguing about you?

You turned to see Remus holding his head in his hands. You gently placed your hand on his shoulder.

“Remus?”

A horrible thought crossed your mind: What if this was all just a prank on you and Remus was collateral? What if he didn’t actually talk about you and now he’d have to admit that?

He ran his hands through his hair before looking at you. His face was bright red, highlighting each scar that ran across his nose and cheeks brilliantly.

“Can we talk privately? Before I murder these gits?” he asked you in a low voice with pleading eyes.

“Yeah. Yeah,” you breathed, standing up and waiting to follow Remus through the shelves.

He led you further than you would’ve expected from the table. You assumed that he really didn’t want the boys overhearing whatever you were going to talk about. With each step, you felt your heart rate increase. Maybe he thought you were going to cry at what he was going to say and didn’t want to do that near them.

“I think we’re far enough. No hearing extension charm they’re capable of reaches this far,” he said, leaning back against the wall with some kind of effortless allure.

“Are you okay?” you asked.

You stood a few steps away from him. If something was going to go down, you wanted to have some space between you.

“Yeah. Yeah, of course. I’m fine,” he said as he watched you with cautious eyes. “Usually their teasing doesn’t get to me this bad.” He let out an awkward chuckle.

“Are they teasing you about being friends with me?” you asked, your chest filling with dread.

You wrapped your arms around yourself to brace for the worst. Remus was popular. He was so well-liked. He was so good with people. And you liked to stay out of the spotlight. Some people thought you were a little standoffish, but so be it. You could see where his friends were coming from.

Suddenly, you felt hands on your shoulders. And you looked up to see Remus’ warm eyes.

“They are teasing me about being just friends with you,” he said softly.

You rolled your lips against each other. What did he mean by that? Just friends?

“Because I do talk about you a lot. I practically only study with you. I go out of my way to cross paths with you so I can see your smile. I hope this doesn’t sound creepy, but I stare at you from across the Great Hall when I don’t sit next to you.” He paused for a moment to see if you had any reaction yet. “And this is going to sound mean, but I’m so glad you fell on those stairs. It brought you into my life.” He waited again. “Please say something, love.”

“Okay,” you said as your cheeks tinged pink. “So they aren’t making fun of me? This isn’t some kind of prank?”

“No. It’s not a prank. The only one being made fun of is me because I wanted to wait longer.”

“Wait longer for what?”

“Listen. I meant it when I said you are pretty. I meant it when I said I don’t want to study with anyone else. I mean it when I say I can’t get you out of my head. I just wanted to wait longer to be sure… sure that you’d say yes. Sure that you like me.”

You tilted your head.

“Of course I like you, Remus.”

“But as more than friends? Would you be willing to go on a date with me?”

Your breath hitched. Had Remus just said a bunch of sweet things about you? Yes, and it made your face feel hot. But it was the question that really sealed the deal. He wanted to be sure that you’d say yes.

“I’d really like that.” You broke into a wide smile. “You thought I wouldn’t say yes?”

Remus let out the breath he was holding and mirrored your smile. He pulled you into a tight hug before answering.

“I’ve wanted to ask you out since the first time we studied together. I didn’t want to move too fast. I didn’t want you to think I was trying to jump you or something.”

You laughed into his chest and he slowly let you go.

“So all of that back there, that was them being tired of listening to you pine?” you asked.

“Seems like it. I told them to be nice to you, but I guess I didn’t tell them to be nice to me.”

“I mean, I’d say it was pretty nice of them to get you a date,” you said teasingly.

“I’m still the one who asked!” he tried to defend himself.

You raised your eyebrows at him.

“Yeah, but would you have asked if they weren’t here?”

“Not today, no. Maybe in another week or so. I told you, I was waiting to be sure.”

“For a smart bloke, you really should’ve known that if you asked me out on the stairs, I would’ve said yes.”

“Wait, what?” He looked down at you in surprise.

“Merlin, I’ve had a crush on you for a while. It’s part of what made falling into the stair so mortifying.”

“Those damn stairs, right?” he chuckled as you started walking back to the table. Then he cleared his throat. “So, Hogsmeade next weekend?”

“It’s a date.”

The three boys were working when you returned. When they looked up, they had matching looks of anticipation on their faces. Neither of you said anything as you sat down and started to work. Without speaking, you seemed to agree that you weren’t going to say anything unless they asked.

“So?” Peter asked. “Did Remus grow a pair?”

“Always had a pair, Peter,” Remus said dryly.

“Moony,” he whined before turning his attention to you. “Did he… you know?”

“Well, she might not know. Because if he didn’t, how would she know?” Sirius said.

You rolled your eyes with a shake of your head.

“What if he did and she said no? That’d be something,” James mused. “Although I don’t think they’d be so… content? Peaceful? Somber? Pleased-looking?”

“But wouldn’t they both look much happier if he asked and she said yes?” Peter asked.

“Oi! We are right here,” Remus interjected. “I asked. She said yes. You are to stay away from us in Hogsmeade. Now, work. I want to see finished essays.”

“Our boy became a man!” Sirius said, wiping an invisible tear from his eye. “We’re so proud of you.”

“Padfoot. Essay. Now,” Remus commanded before shooting you a wide grin.

You could tell that he was pretty proud of himself too.

tags: @allformoony, @oursweetmoony, @moonyswifee

#marauders #marauders fic #marauder-misprint #remus lupin fic #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #remus lupin

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yoursweetheartsrevenge · 2 days ago

Text

Stressors

Summary: End of the year at Oxford means exams, papers, and the overwhelming amount of stress that follows. Studying in the library may help Michael relieve stress, but his girlfriend has other ideas.

Read on Ao3

Warnings: smut (praise kink, oral - f receiving, p in v sex (protected and unprotected - creampie), female masturbatation, sex toys, squirting, light spanking), anxiety, MINORS DNI, 18+

Word Count: 6.2K+

Author’s Note: Thanks to everyone who voted in the original poll! This idea came from a little example in the non-fiction book, Come as You Are: The Surprising New Science that Will Transform Your Sex Life by Emily Nagoski Ph.D about sex and stress. Great book (which I will definitely finish someday)! Enjoy these little horny nerds!

Stressors

Tap

The gravity of the pencil hit against her open notebook. The eraser left notable trails of pink debris against the grayed out letters that had disappeared over the last hour.

Or was it a couple hours?

She wasn’t sure anymore.

Several books of different medieval texts were laid open in front of her on one of the many study tables at the university library. She hadn’t even made a decision on what her final project was. The syllabus was a sharp reminder that this project would be a large portion of her grade.

If she completely failed the translation project, she’d still pass.

She was a top student in her subject at Oxford, but if she failed this . . .

Where would that leave her in the rankings of other students in her field?

She ran her thumbnail over the small indentations in the number 2 pencil, bite marks indicating how truly stressed, nervous,and anxious these last weeks had been. The long phallic object let her mind wander for a moment on other things.

Tap

“Stop that.” Michael Gavey said beside her.

Her boyfriend’s head was in his open palm, focused on reading his maths, occasionally scribbling notes in his well worn spiral notebook. He did not look up from his well disciplined concentration.

He was in a similar situation.

Should he fail or get less than a perfect score on his final project . . . well . . .

He’d still be top of the class, but only by one point.

Michael Gavey needed to be top of the class by more than one measly point.

And she . . . she needed Michael Gavey to top her.

She smoothed the pencil flat on her notes, or lack thereof. Her palms fell flat on the desktop as she leaned forward. Her fingertips turned a thick copy of text. The pages were so thin she had to be careful not to rip them. She was slowly turning each page looking for the right piece.

She was saddened his eyes weren’t on her. Michael was still looking studious and concentrated on his work, not lustful and wanting as her ass was quite close to his face. She had worn the suede skirt for a reason she supposed. Her boyfriend had once complemented the feel of the material even burying his face against it.

Her body grew hot at the thought of his face buried between her thighs.

She shook out her hair as if to lose the lustful ideas she had snaking in her mind. Instead she found the work looking it over. The project was to translate a piece of literature they had read that semester back into its original language, Middle English. It should have been simple enough, at least for her, but decisions always made her wary.

She settled back down in her seat with a bit of a thump. She thought he may look at her, but Michael remained ever focused. It was one of the things she liked so much about him. Especially the looks that crossed his face when he was deep in thought. She pressed her thighs together and nearly held her breath.

His face was making her feel a certain way.

She decided it would be best to pick up her pencil. The text before her nearly seemed to blur as his hot breath puffed out a bit. Her thumb stroked from the pink eraser tip down the long yellow length of the pencil.

Pencils should NOT make her think of Michael Gavey’s dick.

Yet here she was chewing at the metal base of the eraser.

She nearly whimpered at the thought of replacing that pink tip for his bulbous pink tip.

Her scribbling the first few lines down didn’t help her at all. The translation was so poor due to her inability to focus. Her legs squeezed together tighter. He shifted in his seat and she nearly lost her mind. Despite it being near to summer, Michael was still clad in a red jumper. He had told her feeling sweaty made him more concentrated and comfortable.

Another endearing fact.

Another reason to clench her thighs.

She knew why she was feeling this way.

Stress.

Horrible, mind altering stress.

Her heart sped up at the thought of faltering in her academic career. Her head felt weak at the idea of being less than perfect in the eyes of her Medieval Literature professor who was a harsh critic to all the class’s work, but seemed to be pleasantly surprised by how well she was as a student. She was enthusiastic about the subject, usually. She had been looking forward to this project, but now she was simply feeling the weight of the end of the year.

Michael was too. His maths classes had been going quite well, however after a devastating last exam in which he had gotten THREE questions wrong he was having a crisis. A crisis which caused their only dates to be at the library. Sometimes they would study in each other’s rooms, but Michael had taken that option off the table. .

“No distractions.”

But she WAS distracted.

Michael WAS distracting.

Maybe if she just felt some relief she could concentrate.

She tested. Her hand slowly moved against his thigh. He was wearing jeans letting her trace the bleach splashed stains there. She rubbed softly, light on her fingers.. She grew bolder when he seemed to pay no mind to her touch, deciding to press her palm and squeeze a bit.

Michael Gavey remained concentrated.

Surely she could test further?

Her hand traveled to her boyfriend’s crotch taking time to stroke the edge of his member. She managed to lovingly stroke him twice before she felt his fingers wrap around her wrist.

“No.” He said moving her hand from his clothed cock to her thigh.

He stayed his hand for a brief moment rubbing her knuckles. It was an act of comfort. It was supposed to be. He began flipping through his text, still focused on the work. His same fingers rubbed across his sweaty temple and blonde hairline. She tapped her fingers against her thigh for a moment feeling less embarrassed than needy.

Her fingers swirled and scratched against the suede. She could not control herself. Her eyes were still focused on his crotch, his thick length laid underneath. Without thought she reached for it again, slowly, carefully.

Maybe he wouldn’t -

“I said no.” He moved her hand again. This time a bit more forceful hitting her hand against her thigh a little hard, a little rough, a little annoyed.

The rejection hurt.

She felt tears gather in her eyes. Staring at him for a moment too long did not help. He merely went back to work. She saw a sliver of irritation on his face.

It made her heart sink.

She didn’t think.

She acted.

The stress was burdening her with an irrational mind.

Her hands moved to gather her things, closing each of the books in front of her.

SLAM

She scooped them into her messenger bag which she pulled from its tilted position between their seats.

THUMP

“Wait,” He looked up finally. Michael was watching her hurried hands begin to gather up her chewed on pencil and notebook stained with eraser debris. “Where are you going?”

At least he was paying attention now.

She couldn’t speak.

She wasn’t sure if it was anger or merely frustration from her own body’s pulsating desire that made those tears pool at the edge of her eyes.

“Did I do something wrong?”

She couldn’t stay.

Her brain completely melted at the needy little words that escaped his mouth. All her things were packed. The flap to the bag flipped close. Michael’s fingertips were pressed to the papers and opened thick textbook.

She couldn’t look at him.

She left him in the library nearly stomping her way back to her dorm room.

Her wrist wiped across her eyes, trailing tears across the bridge of her nose. Her body had just acted. She couldn’t sit next to him and continue to be rejected. Not when she felt as if she might tear her skin off if he didn’t touch her. Being so close to him was too much to bare and she desperately needed release.

The stress.

This stupid stress.

It was building up in her body making her face hot. It made her brain foggy with not only desire but thoughts that remained ill advised, such as trying to fondle her boyfriend’s cock in the library when he clearly was not interested.

“Stupid, stupid.” She repeated to herself making herself walk faster.

On the way she recounted her relationship with resident Oxford math genius, Michael Gavey. She hadn’t made many friends at Oxford her first few months, but that was no problem for her. University wasn’t a place to make friends. It was a place to learn. Still her dorm mate always invited her out and they got along pretty well. She made some casual girl friends in her literature classes.

The first interaction she had with Michael was when she had gotten rather ill in the middle of the fall semester. She had missed a really important lecture in one of her classes. It wasn’t a class where she had made many friends so she merely relied on going to the person who sat beside her in class for notes.

Oliver Quick was a literature student too. She would occasionally look at him, noting that he seemed to take excellent notes. The notes seemed legible from what she could tell and he edged her on top student in that class. It had been too early in the year to be competitive.

She had cornered Oliver and his friend, a blonde vaguely attractive looking student with square shaped wire glasses during dinner in the dining hall. When she had started to speak she realized that the friend was the top math student, Michael Gavey. She wasn’t a maths student, but she could appreciate a passionate mind and eager learner. Up closer as she asked Oliver for his notes on the previous week’s lecture, she peeked at the way Michael seemed to ignore her continuing to widely open his mouth while dining on braised beef.

She remembered the smell of it hitting her the moment his curious eyes peered up at her. He suddenly seemed mindful of how loudly he was chewing once he looked up at her. It made her blush a bit seeing how his blue eyes reflected in his glasses at that moment. He had quietly commended her on picking Oliver to receive her notes from declaring his handwriting and attention to detail were excellent.

She had gotten the notes, but more importantly she had developed a bit of a crush there and then.

She had excitedly told herself that agreeing on Oliver’s note taking skills made them an ideal match. Clearly they had similar priorities. It made her head spin a bit. She had not been distracted, nor had she approached Michael again until Oliver had swiftly abandoned him for his fifteen minutes of fame with Felix Catton.

She hadn’t witnessed the end to the friendship, only the aftermath.

She had been studying late one evening in the beginning of the new year at the library.

She had been looking for literature to read be ahead in one of her classes. Nobody ever frequented the library as late as she did. That was until she had wandered over to the section she needed, where Michael was seated, wrappers of Crunchie bars nearly overflowing his table top as he read from several open maths texts.

She dared to approach him. Still a girl with a bit of a crush, she told him she thought it silly they were the only students in the library sitting on opposite sides of the building. It would save space and the librarian time not having to travel across the library to inform them of the library’s closure. They should sit together at the same table. They should study together.

Michael had agreed.

So began their friendship.

He would share his Crunchies and she would share her little fig rolls. Michael later told her he thought the fruit was too tart, but he really enjoyed how she made happy little noises as she bit into their softness. They would talk about their lectures and their days as they grew more comfortable with one another. They would even argue about philosophy and subjects they both were passionate about.

She had asked him out on Valentine’s Day.

“I’m attracted to you. I know tomorrow is Valentine’s Day, but I would really like to go out with you.” She had asked, books tucked against her chest before their typical after dinner study session.

Michael had simply said yes. He appreciated her forwardness and agreed he too was attracted to her. She even saw a hint of a blush.

They had gone out to an Italian pizzeria a short distance from campus.

“I know it is customary to wait until the end of the date, but,” He had asked before they had entered the quick service place. His breath was fogging his glasses. His wool coat was tight against his body showing off a bit of his figure. “I really would like to kiss you. If that is alright.”

It had been more than alright.

She had told him as such.

She thought she had never seen a person so happy then the first few seconds before Michael Gavey kissed her for the first time.

It had been awkward at first, a lean and peck, but they soon learned after a short time how they each like to be kissed.

From that evening onward, the pair had been inseparable.

They still had their after dinner study sessions, but they held hands now. Occasionally they would snuggle or peck when the moment seemed to take them. When he could Michael would walk her to her classes. He seemed to love holding her hand. It was smaller than his, but fit so perfectly there.

They began to have study sessions in their respective dorms, taking turns on who would host. It led into movie nights with occasional cuddles and make out sessions. She always felt flattered when it got too heavy and Michael would ask for them to stop. He often got too worked up, but told her he didn’t want to lose himself in front of her like all the other beasts on campus.

“You are too special to me. I want our first time to be something thoughtful, not baseline animalistic instincts.” He was sweet saying it.

But sometimes she wished he would lose himself to her.

She knew he wanted to. She felt how much he wanted to.

They had confided in each other they were both virgins. As Michael said, he wanted their first time to be special.

The timing had been special. It was the weekend of a big party Catton was throwing. They’d be nearly alone on campus. They decided on Michael’s dorm as he had no dorm mate to potentially walk in on them. He had tried his best to plan it out, but everything seemed to have gone wrong.

The Chinese take away order had been wrong leaving them with an order she could not eat due to allergies so they shared a small side of noodles, both too awkward and pent up to complain or order elsewhere.

The candles he had bought had nearly set off the fire alarm and burnt his curtains.

The roses he bought did not survive the day and were wilted.

It was all a bit funny looking back at it.

The pair of them half expected the sex to be awful as well.

That had been the best part though it had started off as less than perfect that first time.

She opened her dorm door letting herself fling back to the present. The messenger bag fell as she shut the door behind her. She quickly let her body go for the vibrator snuggled tucked in the cabinet above her desk thinking of that first time.

Neither knew what they were doing, but they were not afraid to let each other know what they wanted. She liked to be touched. Michael knew this. He knew exactly where to touch her to have her make those little sweet noises that he liked. The noises that made him rock hard in seconds. She knew he liked to have his hair tugged when she kissed him.

When he had been on top of her, slowly easing his condom clad member inside her she had tugged on his hair as reassurance he was doing good. It had been jolting to feel his cock twitch inside her. She had squealed out a bit excitedly. The sex hadn’t been long that first time. He had finished in a few thrusts. He had been so disappointed in himself for doing a poor job at his first time, but they had all night and an absurd amount of condoms.

Each time had gotten better and better.

The last time before they both fell asleep completely enwrapped in each other’s arms, she had been crying out his name hoarsely as he fucked her into the mattress making her squirt all over his bed sheets.

From then on they included sex in their routine.

It had never been a chore, always a joyous little treat to the end of a hard day.

The vibrator had been bought by Michael.

He wanted something his girlfriend could play with and that he could use on her. The thought intrigued him. They had gone to a local sex shop having studied different types together on the internet. They both agreed to something with a similar girth and length to his cock, even measuring his member out to get an idea of what they needed. The little research project had bonded them further.

She held what they had purchased together in her hands. It was white at the base with a slender tip that was ribbed resembling a fuschia pink tongue. She reached under her skirt to palm her wet panties. She flushed a bit embarrassed as she settled on her bed touching herself through the lace of her soaked panties. Her clit was throbbing, making her whimper as she slowly snaked her hand under the material.

The vibrator was nearly forgotten as she began to touch herself. However after a few moments she felt uneasy.

It wasn’t enough.

She lubed up the vibrator turning it on. She tried to work it on herself. She felt nothing. The vibrator was tossed angrily on the bed letting it bounce slightly on her comforter.

ABSOLUTELY FUCKIN NOTHING.

She could nearly cry.

She could nearly scream.

All she wanted was to release, to cum, but nothing was doing it for her like -

Two soft knocks came at the door followed by a pause.

An even softer knock followed.

Her body was vibrating to be touched, to seek relief.

But she knew how awful she had left things.

“Hi.” He said softly when she opened the door. “Can I come in?” He was slumped looking a bit pathetic and painfully adorable with his own messenger bag slung at his side.

She merely stepped aside.

“Whatever I did,” He started looking her in the face as she closed the door softly. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to fight.” They rarely did. When they did it was over subjects that didn’t matter. Hardly anything ever relating to their relationship, though it was still young.

Her eyes shifted to the abandoned sex toy on the bed.

His eyes locked on the vibrator on the bed.

“Oh,” He said with a realization. “Is that why you . . . I see.” She stood with her shoulders slightly pushed in. “This is my fault.”

“No, no, it’s mine. I touched you without permission. I’ve been so stressed. So out of focus on my work. I just needed release. I didn’t think, just behaved like an absolute -”

“Come here,” Michael wrapped her in his arms, squeezing her. She squeezed him back. “I’m feeling stressed as well, but you said you needed release? I’m stressed too, but I can’t . . . ”

It was then that she realized it.

“Oh?” She pushed away from him looking at his face. “Does stress make you . . .unable to . . .?” The question hung in the air embarrassing him to make his face flush. .

“We seem to have different reactions to pressure.” Michael said with a nod.

“It’d be fascinating if I didn’t want to fuck you so bad.” Her smile was half quirked. He chuckled. “This has always been something I have dealt with. I usually masturbate. I cum and I can focus again, but,” She looked at him, feeling her teeth nibble at her lower lip with desire. “Since we started dating, all I want is you. Toys aren’t enough sometimes. And I couldn’t . . .I don’t know. I just want to not feel this way anymore. I feel so, so stupid not being able to focus.”

She could cry or tear out her own hair from the sheer pulsating need to feel something inside her.

“No, you are not stupid!” He assured her. “You are absolutely brilliant and you will have your mind back.” He scratched the back of his head feeling the edge where hair met flesh. “I might not be able to . . . achieve an erection.” There was a fact. Michael Gavey’s cock couldn’t get hard when he was stressed. She couldn’t be any wetter standing here watching him struggle to promise a compromise. “But I can still help. If that’s what you -”

“Yes!” She embarrassed herself by saying it too quickly and too loudly.

Michael laughed.

“Lie on the bed. Take off the skirt and your panties. Let me take care of you.”

She could fuckin’ cum at those words alone.

Alas she didn’t.

When she did as he told her he smiled watching her hair spray across the pillow. He adjusted his glasses. He climbed on bed after removing his shoes and placing them at the door. Michael happily straddled her slightly.

“Such a good girl.” He praised. “My good, sweet, smart, absolutely brilliant girl.” Michael brushed his hand against her cheek letting his thumb slowly ease into her mouth.

She felt her pussy flutter at what she liked.

Suckling his thumb.

Being praised.

“Spread those beautiful legs for me, darling.” She did. He hummed in approval. “Look at you. So wet. You really are a horny little thing when you’re stressed, hmmm. Tell me how much you need me.”

“So much.” She moaned, feeling her body tremble.

“Oh, my love,” He kissed her inner thigh. “Where are those beautiful flowery words I love so much? Give them to me.”

“So badly. I can’t think of anything else, but you, your tongue, your cock. I need it so desperately. I feel trapped in my own body, vibrating against my will. I want to tear the flesh from my body. I need you so bad, Michael.” She swallowed watching as tears formed under his eyes. He slowly kissed her thigh again.

“I hate seeing you like this, sweetheart.” His lips were soft against her slit. “Let me help you relieve all that stress.”

He suckled there at her center. She could feel his tongue flicker against her.

Her mind felt blank.

No thoughts of poor grades.

No reeling words to translate.

No pressure or thoughts of anything other than Michael Gavey’s tongue and lips making her coo and sigh.

His hot breath encouraged her. She felt him swirl his tongue slowly easing its way inside her. While Michael had not been well practiced in anything sexual when they had started exploring themselves months earlier, he was determined to become as well practiced with her cunt as he was with the algebraic equations he so loved. He was certainly showing off his skills at this moment.

His lips found her engorged clit with little effort.

Michael gave hard wet suckling pops making her insides bubble.

She called his name letting her hands wander into his hair. She pulled on it and grabbed a tuff at the base of his scalp yanking with tenderness. He moaned approvingly, but simply continued. She secretly hoped he would forget about the stress that was troubling him and be able to achieve her desire, him inside her.

He continued to bare down on her. His hand moved to squeeze both her thighs moving them up to get better access to her cunt. His noises were lewd, making her wetter as he devoured her.

“Michael, I’m . . . please.” Her words fumbled from her mouth. Her moans grew higher, more fevered and desperate.

His tongue worked along her slit producing more arousal as she cried out. There was that familiar build up in her. Michael was working to get it free, growing more intense by the moment squeezing her thighs, running his thumbs over little dimples he adored.

Different pressure clouded her mind.

She was only this loud when he was going down on her.

He always adored her little pleasurable cries.

She knew it made him feel appreciated, that he was doing such a good job.

Her hand let go of his hair to squeeze the sheets and mattress.

The release sprang out of her, harsh and loud.

She hadn’t realized she had squirted until she saw droplets on Michael’s glasses and a smear of wet patch against her sheets.

Her breath laid out heavy. Soft satisfied coos left her lips. Curiously she looked to his crotch as he sat up on his knees. As he cleaned off his glasses on his sweater she saw with disappointment there was no needy bulge.

“Do you feel better?” He wondered, adjusting his glasses back on his face.

She nodded.

“We should change your sheets.” He started to stand. Michael offered his hand, but upon seeing her lazy love drunk eyes and the heaving of her chest merely took in the sight.

“Mmmm . . . feels too good to move. Can we cuddle for a few moments? We can clean the sheets after and maybe get some dinner and continue our studying. I think I can focus now. Just need to hold you.”

There was no hesitation.

Not even the wet patch and the smell of sex coating the air could stop him from snuggling into her arms.

She felt so relieved.

***

She was waiting for him outside his last class.

Most students had finished earlier that week running off to summer getaways and after parties. They had been reluctant to participate in the Trashing earlier that week since their professors had planned extra work on purpose to make the tradition seem less celebratory. Neither could have carried less about this particular tradition.

The stress melted from her leaving a pleasant satisfaction after she handed in her brick sized translation. She had finally settled on a work of literature after dinner that night, breaking out a handwritten translation of seventy seven pages in two hours.

Michael had been so, so proud of her when she had received her final mark.

The highest in her class!

Her professor even remarked it was the highest score he had given on the tough project. Michael had smothered her with kisses, on her neck, on her lips, on her chin, anywhere he could gain access to in a public setting.

He still had one more final.

She was buzzing with excitement at the prospect of him achieving the same level of satisfaction she had.

Her cute floral dress barely hit her knees flaring out. It was soft to the touch and a bit see through in some spots. She would have never worn it with tons of people on campus, but here with only a handful of maths students vibrating with final exam anxiety she could manage being a bit embarrassed if they saw her teal bra and panties.

Students flooded out of the hall as she looked for her nerd outside the building. She curled her toes looking forward, finding her bespectacled boyfriend in the crowd. He was wearing a short sleeved button up, blue with light checkered white stripes. She could see him fiddling with the flash drive on his belt. She waved at him, noting his serious face. When he looked at her there was a strong sense of release.

He nearly raced toward her, colliding into her. He grabbed her and spun her around.

Michael peppered her with kisses again.

“It was a breeze!” He said accidentally or on purpose, feeling her up. “I passed with flying colors!” His confidence always made her very turned on.

She rewarded him with a deep kiss.

He kissed her back using more tongue than he usually did.

That’s when she felt it.

“Oh!” She was a bit surprised at his hardness, very evident as he pressed himself against her.

He gave her a proud smile.

“I very much want to.” He said, swallowing looking at her lips. “Now, please.”

“In public?!” She nearly shouted.

“No, of course not. At least not today.” His eyebrows wiggled. He took her hand not bothering to hide the evidence of his arousal. There were hardly any people around anyway. “Your dorm is closer.”

They walked quickly. She giggled as he squeezed her ass complimenting her on her outstanding genetics and her softness. He would occasionally mutter how much he wanted her and how absurd his body was at not being able to get himself worked up when she wanted to jump him days earlier.

“Nothing to be ashamed of. Our bodies react differently to stress. It’s what makes us unique and precious.” She had booped him on the nose.

He nearly growled, kissing her as he shoved her into her dorm. She mumbled against his lips. He threw his messenger bag to the floor gripping at her back side.

“I don’t have any bedding.” She said between kisses, wet and sloppy and the neediest she had ever felt him.

“That’s alright.”

She had already stripped her bed. Most of her things were boxed up ready to be transported back home. Her parents would be picking her up soon. They’d be meeting Michael for the first time.

All that information was very clear and present in her head, but the fact that his hands were very pleasantly squeezing her behind was pushing reason and ration away. She moaned against him. He smiled against her lips.

“Can I give it a little smack?” He squeezed her, nearly humping her thigh from the angle he was currently at.

“Yes, please.”

Instantly she felt the sharp sensation of Michael’s open palm against the fat of her round bottom. She couldn’t help giggling. Especially since he was giving her playful little nipping kisses.

“No, no,” She said, pushing him off. He whimpered sadly. “My parents are coming. Nothing visible today.” He nodded as if finally realizing himself what was to follow when they left this room. “How do you want me?”

With that Michael grinned. He was looking so pleasantly excited and pent up she swore he probably would burst.

Had this been how she looked?

It didn’t matter to her; it was so endearing to see how much he truly desired her.

“I . . . I don’t know.” She knew Michael wasn’t used to being asked what he wanted. “How about you get on the bed and then we’ll go from there, alright, my love?”

She nodded ready to obey.

He gave her another encouraging spank, slightly harder as she sauntered over to the bed. She pulled the soft cotton floral dress over her head revealing her teal bra and panty set. Michael was practically drooling as she laid back on the bed letting her hair fan across the pillow. He shifted and struggled to pull off his shoes and socks. She was glad he moved closer because she assisted with his belt. She unnotched his flash drive and placed it in the pocket of his khakis.

“I don’t want it breaking. It has that research you like on there still. Those rare papers?” He nodded at her words looking at her solemnly stopping his movement as if a deer caught in headlights.

“What? Are they not on there anymore?” She blinked confused.

“I . . . I love you.” He brushed her hair from her face.

“Because I remembered to protect your flash drive?” She asked with a wicked teasing smile.

“You know why.” He leaned forward to kiss her.

She did.

They knew each other.

They knew each other so well.

She was his best friend and he was hers.

“I love you too. You know that right?” Her fingers teased at his zipper and button of his pants. She looked up from under her lashes fluttering them with a tease.

This was the first time they had said those words to one another, but she had known from the moment that he asked her to kiss him before their date even began that they were going to fall in love with one another.

“Yes.” He breathed out as she released his bulge from the confines of his pants. “Please, I need you. I want you.”

She petted his black boxers. He shifted to step out of his khakis before bending down to retrieve a condom from the back pocket.

“Umm, would it be okay . . . if we . . .didn’t use it . . . just this once?” She said nibbling at her lip.

She really wanted to feel him fully.

Michael knew she was on the pill.

She knew it may be stupid asking, but she wanted to feel him. She wanted to feel him drip out of her.

“You sure? I mean, if you get pregnant of course I would . . . I’d be there, but . . . I would like to as well. Maybe just the once?” They were all about being rational, but sometimes rationality got in the way of desire.

Her fingers teased his bulge as he straightened up. She could feel him leaking as she found his tip. His precum wet his dark boxers, staining them even darker. Her lips kissed there.

“I can’t . . . I’m going to . . .” He moaned deep and loud. His cock was twitching.

She released him seeing his cock was so stiff it bounced to greet her. She had never been so close to his member. Usually they had sex or he went down on her. He had never expected her to return the favor. Never thought she would, but seeing it so close to her face made her mouth water in an odd way. She gave his tip a kiss, swirling her tongue along the small slit there.

“No, please, I want to, but . . . I want to . . .” Michael seemed nearly pained trying to express himself.

“Do you want to fuck me, Michael Gavey?”

Pants and the removal of his shirt were the only answer.

“Then claim what is yours.” Her head lulled back against the pillow.

The pain of how hard his cock was made him hiss as he straddled her. It made him act quicker. He lifted her up unhooking her bra with expert ease. He notched his thumbs at the sides of her panties pulling them down with little effort. He still felt the same when he sheathed himself inside her. He was warm and pleasantly thick though she could feel him a bit more, all of him. She whimpered with need as he sank himself slower and slower inside her until he bottomed out.

He wasted no time in fucking her into the bare mattress. It was the closest she would ever see to Michael Gavey focusing on his primal needs. He liked kissing her as he fucked her and this instance was no different. She pulled at his hair as he buried himself inside her moving in a rhythm that they both liked. She was surprised that he was lasting as long as he did.

“I love you so much.” He said as if reading her mind. “I . . . want to hold on . . . I think I can.”

“You’re doing so good. You feel so good. You don’t have to hold on.” She could feel herself getting close. She knew he could too.

“But . . .”

“Michael!” She called out. She was panting.

Her walls fluttered around him as she let go. She felt him spill inside her. Her favorite noises were when he lost control. He was so straight laced and professional. Hearing him whine and breath out his release was the sexiest noise on Earth. She felt him slowly pull out of her. His fingers pressed on either side of her pussy lips.

He watched his cum leak out of her, white and sticky.

She felt it drip from her.

Her body hummed in approval.

“So beautiful. All mine.” Possessive Michael was also a favorite of hers. She loved being his.

“No more stress.” She tousled his hair causing his attention to go from her cum drenched pussy to her pretty cum drunk face. “Just you and me and a stress free summer.”

Michael Gavey nodded leaning forward. He held her against his chest.

“No more stressors.” He agreed with a final sweet kiss on her forehead.

taglist: @hangmanscoming, @queen-of-elves

#ewanverse #ewan nation #michael gavey x reader #michael gavey x you #michael gavey #saltburn #michael gavey smut

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seventeenlovesthree · 1 day ago

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Madoka Magica Ship Analysis - HomuMado

Based on these two polls [X] [X], I will write an analysis that'll also include how I feel about the ship (similarly to my Digimon shipping game analysis posts).

Disclaimer: I won't claim this to be a conclusive/definitive analysis of all of the ship's aspects. I have watched the original 12-episode-series and movies (including Rebellion), the Magia Record anime and I've read several manga series (the Original, The Different Story, Wraith Arc, Rebellion Story, Oriko Magica, Another Story, Mitakihara Anti-Materials). But I'm aware that I haven't seen/read all of what's out there and am also not thoroughly familiar with the games. Plus, oftentimes, ship dynamics vary depending on which series/timeline you are looking at. I'm fairly certain that thousands of words must have been written about this ship already, better and more elaborate than I probably ever could - so this is going to be my personal take on it.

Whether canon provides input on them or not.

As the main faces, characters (and ship) of the entire franchise, it's absolutely impossible to watch/read/play the series without taking note of Madoka Kaname, Homura Akemi and their dynamic. Their characters, arcs and development are irrevocably connected with one another - no pun intended (yet) - and without them, we wouldn't even have a story to talk about to begin with. But let's start at the beginning, shall we.

On one hand, we have Homura - who initially started off as a shy and timid girl, prone to sickness and ridden by insecurities. Presumably raised as an orphan at a government-funded orphanage, she struggles to find her way, fitting in at school, keeping up, making friends and socializing in general - thus she becomes an easy target for corruption (we shall keep this in mind for later) and is almost being dragged into suicidal tendencies by a Witch... If it wasn't for the pink-haired Magical Girl (and her senpai) who is going to rescue her - and Homura has no idea yet that she'll end up committing her entire life and purpose to her soon after.

Madoka initially starts off as not considering herself to be anything special - but is still determined to do good as a Magical Girl, she appears to be straight-forward yet kind, gentle and welcoming... Especially towards Homura. So - is it really surprising that Homura, timid, insecure, lonely Homura, would end up thoroughly enchanted by Madoka? The first real friend she must have had in ages? The person who smiled at her, reached out and encouraged her in her pure, innocent ways? Absolutely not, it's highly relatable, endearing... And thus, it shall be even less surprising to see Homura not wanting to lose her again. The feeling of being wanted, appreciated - of not being alone anymore.

After watching Madoka sacrificing herself, ending up killed by Walpurgisnacht in the original timeline, Homura makes her wish to become a Magical Girl herself - not just to meet Madoka again, but to be the one to rescue her this time. What appears to be a wish of determined, unexpectedly confident heroism at first will, just like every other wish, turn out to be a multi-layered mess of human complexity. An underlying desire born from affection - that will eventually turn into something deeper, desperation, obsession, whatever you may want to call it.

Homura lives through countless timelines, repeating the same month over and over again to save Madoka, discovering the fate of Magical Girls to become Witches eventually along the way, becoming more and more skilled at weaponry combat... At some point, she was already perfectly ready to become a witch alongside Madoka, as long as they're together, destroying the entire world - but is held back by Madoka's wish to prevent her from falling for Kyubey. And thus, Homura thoroughly hyperfocuses on her personal mission, so she won't lose the last bit of hope, no matter how bleak the situation may be. However, in the process, she is growing more and more distant, not only from Madoka and their fellow magical girls, but also from herself. Hardened by the experiences, she develops a cool facade and a stoic attitude, swallowing and locking away emotional attachment to anything and anyone that is not Madoka in order to reach her goal.

With every timeline resetted, more karmic energy revolves around Madoka - but with Homura's wish revolving around saving her, she also becomes increasingly more timid, reserved and insecure each time(line). While her general stance on Homura is still mainly the same - finding her, her look and name cute/pretty -, their ability to relate to one another dwindles with every reset. Homura's attempts at reaching Madoka, as desperate as they may appear, rather scare and alienate Madoka - who cannot possibly understand what she has been going through, the time she had spent, the absolute commitment...

Until Madoka eventually makes her own wish to honour all of Homura's achievements - until she wishes for witches to never have existed and, enabled by all the karmic energy, she becomes a literal Goddess in the process, the Law of Cycles to keep magical girls from despairing, creating an entirely new universe... One in which she has never existed as a human, but only as a concept. Selflessly wishing for everybody's happiness - whereas Homura wishes she didn't. While Madoka thanks her for all she had done for her sake, giving her her red hair ribbons as memory for safekeeping, Homura cannot fully accept this new reality. She does fight on at first, honouring Madoka's wish within a world that has Wraiths instead of Witches, determined to defy anyone and anything that shall threaten her legacy... But this state isn't meant to last.

The long twintail-braids shy, timid Homura used to wear alongside her glasses, mirroring Madoka's red-ribboned twintails as a symbol of innocence, are merely a memory of who Homura Akemi is going to become. For the sake of her initial wish, for the sake of devotion and love that have turned into an obsession that doesn't allow much deviation. And her will to keep living in Madoka's universe is fragile - as she has to overcome temptation in the shape of shape-shifting Wraiths, showing her her beloved Madoka once more - just for example.

And eventually, despair takes over: Trapped within a Witches barrier inside of Homura's own Soul Gem, a world has formed that technically would have granted her biggest wish - a world in which Madoka exists happily alongside her and her/their friends, fighting together, living a peaceful life... But this world is just a facade as well, meant to lure the Goddess into a trap to regain power over the old Witch System of an alternate reality. And Homura, whose hair can never be turned back into braids again, who has lost her way and purpose, turned into a Witch and is ready to sacrifice herself if it means keeping Madoka safe once more. But even as she is, once again, mercifully saved by Madoka in the end in return in another act of selflessness - Homura's initial wish takes over. To be the one to save Madoka - in Homura's sense, means to stop her from being selfless for once, giving her the chance to live a normal life in another fake reality. It's Homura's, presumably, selfish desire in contrast to Madoka's - as they have truly become opposites in every single way. In order to fulfill her wish and become Madoka's sanctuary - even against her will -, she became a Devil to defy the Goddess' universe, following a corrupted form of love once born from the wish to protect the one most important to her. To maintain the image of Madoka she had formed in her head, regardless of whether that is what Madoka has eventually become and wished for by herself. And thus, she cannot wear Madoka's red ribbon, the sign of her legacy and innocence, anymore. A black dress and red eyes now have to face a white dress and golden eyes. The braids cannot return... At least not for now.

... Too long, didn't read: There is A LOT to work with, you already know all of this and yet, I am pretty sure I haven't been able to capture every aspect of them.

Whether I think why and how they’d work.

As mentioned, depending on timeline, universe, state of progression, their dynamic tends to be WILDLY DIFFERENT. You can take Moemura/Shy!Homura and OG!Madoka, you can take Cool!Homura and Anime!Madoka (and their various states in between), you can take EndofAnime!Homura and Madokami, you can take Rebellion!Homura and Rebellion!Madoka, Homucifer and Madokami and you can take Homucifer and FakeWorld!Madoka... The possibilities are ENDLESS (especially when you also include the more comedic-leaning portrayals in spin-off mangas like Homura Tamura).

The good part about this is - you can basically pick your poison, you can make this dynamic as wholesome or as toxic as you desire your own personal brand of Yuri to be. Which is, in my opinion, one of the aspects that make Madoka Magica and HomuMado in general so unbelievably intriguing.

Let's start with the toxic side of things, because I would argue that this is where Rebellion left us hanging and where Walpurgisnacht Rising might continue (at first): Homura's wish and her mingling created a very idealized version of Madoka in her head that she wishes to protect and maintain. Her initial thankfulness and endearment towards the kind, strong Madoka in the original timeline have basically been replaced by her unshaken desire to SAVE her. She has to be the one who (selfishly?) stops her from being selfless, she has to be the one to shield and protect her from any harm, keeping her locked in a precious glass bowl preferably nobody else can mess with. The problem here is that this version of Homura (which is basically Homucifer, but also several stages of her before that) cannot accept any other reading of reality than her own. Yes, in an ideal world, she could have allowed Madokami to finally take her away to exist with her in lesbian heaven for the rest of eternity - but that was not what Homura had wished for. And also probably not what Homura thought she deserved after everything she had done. In a way, having her turn into Homucifer was also some kind of self-chosen punishment as a "sinner"...

And Madoka, honestly speaking, probably had a very idealized version of Homura in her head as well. I'm not just talking about Rebellion!Madoka (or FakeReality!Madoka for that matter), whose memories had been tampered with, but also Madokami - who claimed to have seen all that Homura had done for her, in all timelines and realities... But apparently, she hadn't noticed her state of mind, her being so close to despairing and snapping because she just couldn't take this universe. That she couldn't let Mami or Kyouko in, no matter how hard they tried. She still felt alienated from them and lonely, thus she always reverted back to her initial goal, as she simply didn't belong into this universe. It kinda leads me to believe that it may be impossible for even Madokami to see Homura as anything other than the braided girl from the very beginning, her "best friend" from the original timeline.

Long story short - these two need to actually TALK for once. Getting to know their REAL CURRENT selves in whatever state or timeline that may be. Seriously, letting Madokami and Homucifer have a verbal conversation about all these misconceptions and misunderstandings about each other, talking about needs and desires and BOUNDARIES in a meta-kinda-way would be incredibly satisfying to watch. (And I am pretty sure, such scenarios exist in both fanfiction and doujins, but I haven't found them yet!)

Personally, I also highly enjoy the dynamic between Moemura and OG!Madoka - even after a few timelines have passed, as it has been depicted in the second season of the Magia Record anime. It gave me the impression that Homura had already gained a little bit of confidence and Madoka was still hands-on enough for them to be on a similar wavelength - which makes their dynamic among the healthiest in the entire franchise and gives them a lot of opportunities to bond and develop. For Homura to form a proper sense of self, encouraged by but not entirely dependent on Madoka. Actually, this version is also incredibly close to the Rebellion dream versions of Homura and Madoka - which, unsurprisingly, also is one of the most peaceful versions of them, having them sit together in a flower field, talking for hours about actual things. However, this Homura is still hyperfocusing on Madoka here - and it may not even have been her 100% authentic self, since her memories had been influenced by Homura's vision of her.

However, you have to allow them to talk and actually get to know each other and their flaws, let them banter and tease... Let Homura see and learn to accept undesirable aspects of Madoka - and let Madoka shout back at her if necessary. Deep down inside, they both adore and admire each other - which is why they were compatible in the original timeline in the first place. Homura admired Madoka for her strength, whereas Madoka admired Homura for her coolness. And they absolutely have the potential to help the other to become their best selves. But they need to see each other for who they really are and thus have to abandon codependent tendencies for it to work; Homura has to accept that Madoka is her own person who doesn't need to be overprotected - and Madoka has to accept that she cannot "save" Homura just by herself, but that she may encourage her to get therapy to deal with her self-image first. Let Homura understand that "love" also means to let go. Let her see that different people define "love" differently as well and that you have to understand how your significant other loves to love them back right.

Whether I’d prefer them as platonic or romantic ship.

When I had watched Madoka Magica for the first time approximately 10 years ago, I was positively - and obviously - in love with this ship and its potential. I adored Rebellion for how tragically it portrayed it - and again, I'm not even sure if I did them justice in comparison to everyone who wrote about them before me. As outlined above, it has various layers to pay attention to and I absolutely cannot wait to see how Walpurgisnacht Rising will add to my initial analysis of them. Because their dynamic WILL change, there is no denying.

Even after all this time, I still (want to) see the romantic potential between them. They may not be my favourite Madoka Magica ship anymore, but I still rate them very highly due to their complexity, my own nostalgia and hopefulness - although I'm aware that I would ship them in very idealized ways myself that are self-indulgently peaceful (and required a lot of therapy). As much as I want to see them get a happy end one way or another - I am currently very invested in exploring Madoka's and Homura's polycule potential dynamics with the other members of the Magica Quintet and am looking forward to writing more ship analysis posts soon!

#madoka magica #puella magi madoka magica #pmmm #homumado #madohomu #homura akemi #madoka kaname #my two cents #meta #ship analysis #long post

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trashisstillhere · 2 days ago

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Woooo! After a few days on working, I finally got these two finish for the NN AU!

No, they’re not new characters! These two are actually one of the original canon characters you all already know of! The two main boys and mcs themselves!

Randy and Howard!!! ✨✨✨✨✨👏👏👏👏

Aw yeaa!!! Surprise!!!

I have finally got to their looks in 12th grade in the NN AU! It wasn’t easy but it’s done now!! Let’s gooo!

And yes, Randy has other outfits. They were first concepts for what his outfit should be but I kinda liked all them a lot so I Just made them two different outfits- he also has a little ponytail!! Cuz why not? It fits him! Plus it matches with First Ninja in a way :3 like father like son

But yeah!! Let’s get to a bit of their info, shall we? It isn’t that much and crazy….or anything!…. Teehee~

—————

The two main bros themselves! Now in 12th grade at Norrisville high and NN’s first friends ever since they first started going to their school! With Randy being the kids current ninja mentor! (Besides the Nomicon-)

How the hell did these two even get to 12th grade after everything they have done back in 9th grade? Beats me, lol-

——

Howard info: Howard Weinerman himself, in 12th grade, so far is still the same old laidback and cool short chubby guy we all know him as. Even after growing up a bit, he still hasn’t changed a bit…..well…okay, maybe he HAS changed at least a LITTLE..

Especially his hair…

While he hasn’t been possessed by the Tengu for so long now, it still is somehow linked with him in a way, giving his hair a slight new look…even his eye color seemed to have changed a little bit too! This makes things a bit…worrying….but hey, he’s okay! It’s not like he’s feeling any pain from it or anything! He’ll be fine! He can handle it!..

Besides, he hasn’t had to deal with that damn demon bird in a few years!..

Until one day, the Kitsune was freed by a certain Jock (by accident) during a field trip…

Alerting the said demon bird…

Oh yeah, Tengu Howard makes his return!.. all thanks to the Kitsunes own return!

However, this isn’t the only bird kind of form he’ll be having…

One day, both Howard and Randy ended up in an argument. Just a typical bff argument, ya know?.. however, this one didn’t end as nicely as the last ones they had… instead, it ended up with a familiar pink stank following up to Howard…

Leading him to becoming Stanked for the first time ever in his life….by none other than the sorceress herself.

Stanked form!! Yeah that’s right, he getting Stanked in this AU!

A rooster. A wild one, that is. With extra sharp teeth and a slight interesting color palette… wait… now that I think about it, it is a little similar to the Tengu!

Damn, even when stanked, Howard STILL can’t get away from his Tengu possessed form.

Anyway, this guys mad MAD. Like a normal rooster, he will immediately go attack if he sees anyone as threatening in any way, which in this stanked monster state, he ALWAYS will.

Of course, it is up to NN and Randy (who not only feels bad for this since his argument with him is the reason why this happened in the first place but also cuz of his fear of chickens and roosters-) to go stop and destank him!

———-

Randy info: ah yes, the one and only, Randy Cunningham! You all know him! He was the ninja of norrisville! All through 9th grade up until he got to 12th! The role is now NN’s but even so, since the kid has a whole new different mask and not exactly the one he has, he still gets to be a ninja himself! Just not the main one anymore… but hey! He’s the new ninjas mentor now! And friend! :)

Actually, he wasn’t supposed to be their mentor to begin with. Once NN got the role, he was supposed to have his mind wiped in the ultimate lesson just like every other ninja (expect Mac Antfee…but now he has!) and let his ninja journey finally end…. That is exactly what The Nomicon told him was gonna happen once NN would start their own ninja journey.

But after seeing how much the new ninja was struggling with both their new ‘job’ and personal problems and struggles of their own, he absolutely REFUSED to have his mind wiped and started protesting against the Nomicon, telling it that he wanted to go help NN as he could tell they wouldn’t be able to handle it all by themselves even with the books help. NN needed another person to help them, someone who was a ninja with lots of experience. He thought he would be best for the job. After some more arguing, the Nomicon finally agreed to let the boy be their mentor for now on. BUT! Once NN finally is fully independent on themselves and brave enough to continue on their own, he HAS to go mind wipe himself. for good. With a slight hesitation yet relief, the boy nodded and agreed.

As NN’s mentor, Randy is, or at least always tries to be, sweet and patient to them as he helps them with their new ninja duty. At first it was just him trying to be a teacher to his ‘student’ and nothing more but as he went on with it, he ended up being more attached to the kid then he thought he would. It went so far that he started calling them tons of little nicknames here and there, ‘kid’ being the most common. He also got very overprotective over them, it mostly happens whenever either the Nomicon makes NN do something that could be too dangerous or any of his former enemies tries badly hurting them in any way. (Ya already know the rest, I mean, I had written a bit about this before lol)

As for when being just himself? Like Howard, he hasn’t changed one bit! He’s still his usual lovable dork self! And so far with this ninja mentor role of his, he’s doing pretty good! Yeah….good… he’s alright, he can handle it! He has many times before!…

Oh yeah, yup….he’s…alright…

Oh who am I kidding, he isn’t doing alright!

The truth is, Randy doesn’t like all the new changes he has seen ever since this all has happened. Nothing against NN and them, it’s just…too much!

At first, he was just slightly afraid of the change that he noticed was going on but now, he HATES it. He isn’t a fan of any of the changes at all! Not only that, but he has problems of his own that he hasn’t thought so much about until now.. such as his parents literally being divorced, for a good reason too: his now distant father.

But instead of telling anyone about this, he just kept it all to himself. Every single problem, every part of it, all kept inside of him. It’s unhealthy but the last thing he wanted was to involve anyone in his problems, no matter what. Even if it was his best friend, the kid, his own mother or any teacher at school, not even the psychologist teacher who is usually good with this sort of thing….. he doesn’t HAVE to tell anyone, he will be fine dealing with it on his own…

He was able to keep it all to himself just fine until one day, he finally lost it.

It happened at spirit week, yes. Spirit week. Randy started arguing at NN about how he didn’t like any of the changes that were happening, he was so stuck on it that not him or the kid noticed what was about to happen next….

Before they knew it, he was suddenly covered in both sap and feathers. Right in front of everybody.

It was caused by the new bully ‘Maria’ with her own friends who planned on doing a prank that was supposed to happen to NN but instead it got to him since he was in the way, she found it funny anyway and started laughing at him. Expect for her friends….and everyone else who was around to see it.

Howard got mad at her and so did Martin, they both yelled at the bully who only yelled back while NN was trying to check up on Randy who just stood silent through it all…

The bully said such hurtful words that was meant towards Randy this time….

And that. Was the last straw.

Soon, Randy was no longer just an ordinary guy…or even a ninja..

But a new first time ever stanked victim of the sorceress!

Stanked form! Oh Yea! The main boy is getting Stanked too!! (Man was he hard to draw like holy shit-)

A Komodo dragon. A big one. No, a HUGE one. Literally fucking like Godzilla.

Unlike the other stanked victims so far, this one is the most biggest threat EVER. Not just because of his humongous size but he is pretty much even harder to destank! This guy has lotta problems after all!

But even so, NN isn’t going to give up! They, along with Howard and Martin too, will try their best to go after him and help him then get to finally destank once and for all!…if only it was so easy.

Out of all the stanked monsters, this is the biggest challenge NN has ever had to face..

(The whole idea of this ‘afraid of change and such’ part of Randy’s own part of the story along with the whole stank form ideas and what lead to them with both him and Howard, and the bit of the field trip part where the Kitsune was ‘freed’, was all thought out by @artistic-harlom-world once again!!)

———-

Woooo! All done! Now I would have done some size comparisons and all but due to tumblrs rule about only having like 10 images per post on the ‘mobile version’ or whatever (no I don’t use mobile to be here, only iPad), I’ll just have to show yall a pic of the boys with NN and Martin all together instead! (Tried doing their right sizes and everything! Yes, Martin is slowly taller than Randy. Well he’s supposed to be, he’s kinda a pretty tall jock)

The main gangs all here!

Me after finally doing and finishing the boys who are the other two main mcs along side NN and Martin in the AU after so many days and months of not doing so until now:

Did I really had to make this meme just for this? Yes.

Was it worth it? Also yes.

Welp that’s it, hope y’all like how they look! I did my best as always!

#rc9gn #randy cunningham 9th grade ninja #randy cunningham 9th grade ninja oc #ninja show #rc9gn randy #randy cunnigham #randy cunningham #rc9gn howard #howard weinerman #tengu howard #New Ninja #new ninja au #rc9gn au #art #drawing #doodles

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msschemmenti · 1 day ago

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lips 💋

jennifer jareau x reader

a/n: i had two different ideas for this we’ll see which one makes it out of my notes app. a lil ficlet because im literally so obsessed with her rn

what was her deal today? there was a stack of case files spilling out of her inbox on the corner of her desk. her phone had about 20 voicemails from detectives all over the country. there was so much work to do and yet she’d spent the day staring across her desk at her co-worker. jj was truly at a loss today. after lunch with no case in sight— she’d pretty much deemed the day a loss in regards to productivity. and as frustrated as she’d be tomorrow, she really couldn’t bring herself to care too much today.

y/n had to be doing it on purpose. it was as if every time jj’s eyes were on her, she’d lick her lips, or she’d be biting the cap of her pen, or reapplying her chapstick. jj all but crawled across the desk separating them when y/n removed her glasses and started sucking on one of the legs in thought as she worked through a file. by 3pm she was beginning to lose her mind.

she’d gotten lost in y/n shiny lips again when a ball up piece of paper collided with her forehead. shocked at the interruption, jj looked around the bullpen for the culprit. everyone’s heads were buried in files but a familiar snickered came from the set of desks next to her own. emily’s shiny black hair bounced with laughter causing jj to roll her eyes. emily only grinned and lifted her empty coffee mug toward the kitchen.

jj followed her with her own mug and sidled up beside her in the tiny kitchenette. “am i that obvious?” jj asked quietly, eyes still trained on the younger agent, hard at work.

“unbelievably so. i knew you guys liked to flirt but i hadn’t realized you’d taken the banter to the next step.”

“next step? what do you mean?” jj asked in confusion.

“jayje, you’re looking at her like you tasted the most intimate parts of her. like you can’t wait for it to be 5pm so you can take her home and reacquaint yourself with all your favorite parts of her. like you wanna take her right-“ emily explained dramatically, sloshing the coffee in her mug around as she talked.

“okay! that’s a bit more detailed than i think is necessary. and unlike what you so openly suggested we’ve not taken any steps. i just don’t know what it is today. i’m damn near mesmerized. i’ve got to get a grip before she notices. which won’t take long considering you’re launching paper balls at my head.” jj grimaced.

“well it’s almost quitting time, i’m sure you can make something happen.” emily grinned.

jj shook her head swiftly and turned to head back to her desk, “in my dreams. i think ill just stick to admiring from a far for now.”

emily shook her head and followed jj out, extending a napkin to her before sliding into her desk chair. “if that’s the case, this is for the droll puddle you’ve been building all day. wouldn’t want to flood you inbox, hm?” jj ignored emily with a shake of her head and went back to trying to look like she was working and not shamelessly fantasizing about devouring y/n’s lips.

somehow, y/n and jj ended up being the last two leaving the bullpen this evening. well jj had been too distracted to realize anyone else had left and y/n had been working through one last file. so when she closed the file and met jj’s eyes she almost smirked at the dazed look on the blonde’s face. “aw how chivalrous, did you wait for me?”

there wasn’t anything chivalrous about it. jj mentally chastised herself for the thought and forced herself to nod. “we both know how dangerous it is to have a pretty woman like you walking around by yourself at night. figured i’d walk you to your car.”

y/n grinned then shooting jj a playful wink as she gathered her things, “well let’s get a move on then. i don’t wanna keep you here any longer than necessary. today felt exceptionally long.”

jj hummed in agreement and both women started for the elevator. as they waited, jj rocked on the balls of her feet anxiously. willing herself to be normal and not obvious. they stepped in the elevator and rode it all the way down in silence. jj was almost home free. until her determined coolness was shattered as y/n laughed sweetly as the elevator doors slid open.

“so you gonna kiss me or what?” y/n smirked, hands on her hips.

jj sputtered a bit at the direct question, “uh, what?”

“oh come on jen, you’ve only been saying it with your eyes all day. normally you can conceal it a bit better but today it was like it was written on your forehead.” y/n grinned stepping into jj’s space.

“normally? what do you mean?” jj almost pouted.

“oh sweets, you might be good at poker and all but i know desire when i see it.” y/n places her hand on jj’s cheek with an affectionate pat. “so what’ll be? am i going home without a kiss or what? i’ve only been waiting for two years.”

jj huffed indignantly but wasted no more time and pulled the woman into a bruising kiss. one that had them both panting for air when they finally fell apart. they rested their foreheads together as they caught their breath and y/n was the first one to break the charged silence. “you lasted longer than i thought you would. i just knew when i was sucking on my glasses you’d break.”

jj gasped and squeezed at y/n’s waist, “i knew you were doing it on purpose! i thought i was going crazy.”

y/n shrugged with a smile, “you left me no choice. flirting with you for two years didn’t seem to do the job. i had to take matters into my own hands.”

jj groaned but leaned in again, lips only ghosting over y/n’s. “i can’t believe this…”

“you weren’t complaining a second ago, why start now?”

“oh trust me, i’m not. merely surprised it all.”

#jennifer jareau x reader #jennifer jareau #msschemmenti

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chiefchickenofabyss · 8 months ago

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Late night impulse drawing again

#fanart #art #drawing #sketch #kara westfall #the thickety #ended up looking a bit different than what i had in mind #mayber cuz i haven't drawn her in forever lol

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orcelito · 1 year ago

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Fixing my dialog up

Blurgh

#speculation nation #itnl shit #the struggle of writing a new character is conceptualizing their Voice #gotta settle those sliding scales down #i had formality scale too formal i think. hes kind of formal but in a pretentious way. not a true formality.#a little bit stilted in speech. trying to intimidate. trying to seem like hes got the upper hand always #talking down to people. like theyre lesser than him.#seemingly unflappable. at least at this point in the story. just a bastard man with a bastard plan.#im cross referencing manga dialog rn. i wrote originally with the 98 anime dub voice in mind #which has some Vibes but is less concrete #im going for concrete now. gotta finalize this fucking dialog.#once i smooth it out then i can go tie up the end of the scene #and Then i start the formal overall edit sweep for general coherency and consistency #as well as looking for any minor mistakes i couldve missed in earlier editing sweeps #aka. my usual process lol #i am just squinting angry bitch annoyance at this fuckin bastard man. trying to figure out how he talks #it's kind of difficult to figure out the minor differences due to Things and how that would actually go into effect #what they dont tell u about writing is that it is so very hard actually. god damn.

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buttercupshands · 3 months ago

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Thinking about what happened in the summer

Kids are... Really different when it comes to spending three weeks without their parents

Some start crying near the end of first day

Some start crying after couple of days

And some don't show anything while feeling the same

And being... I think English has a good word for that, let's go with a teacher but mix it with caretaker a little bit

I think seeing a kid cry at the end of that first day finally short circuited my brain, teens are way harder to understand that pre-teens who are literally still kids

They come around after a week, settle down and find new friends and your job stays the same mostly to be the one controlling their behavior

And then you'd have a kid crying again, because they miss home and the only thing you can really do is comfort them that they're not stuck here forever and that time flows so fast they won't notice it

And maybe they didn't. Time really did flew and they were leaving

Parents visited kids sometimes, of course, and it was so scary at first but they were mostly friendly and nice

Maybe because of that group chat that let them see that their kids are fine and are having fun

In the end for kids it was painful at first, but fun in the end. I got hugged more times than I could count when they were all leaving

And then poof

Back to your own life you go, like nothing happened

#not art #irl stuff #some thoughts #Every time I tried mixing my 'usual' behavior with the one I had back in the camp it felt like adding acid into water in the wrong order #Because it didn't feel right and it felt right at the same time #Like I just suddenly got a brand new way of behavior all together and it was so different that I stopped recognizing myself #Literally I'd work all day without much of a thought head full of WHERE EVERYONE IS ARE THEY SAFE??? And then at break near night go 'huh'#And at first I tried desperately to catch the usual behavior and bring it back on the break #And it never led to anything good because I'm supposed to be fully like in daytime 24/7 #I did that one sketch of silly guys to just keep at least something in my head aside from being fully aware 24/7 of every passing second #I still don't know if I miss that or not #It felt so nice to not feel like I have no goal in mind anymore #A goal of 'get to the end of this with all of the kids fine and safe' without ever swearing or making them feel threatened was... Exhaustin #I never became some super sweet person to know so I did what I knew best - talked a lot telling about the things they liked #And if a kid is curious being interesting by telling stories that they didn't know about the things they liked is a way to be liked #Most of them probably forgot about me existing there but some probably didn't and would return next year again #Honestly I don't know why I failed so many exams when becoming a teacher is the only thing that makes me truly happy now #And super tired because THAT'S WORK and it's exhausting as hell some kids love to fight and you need all your diplomacy to work with it #Maybe that's just me missing my time with siblings when they were little I didn't get much time being a good elder sibling to them #I can't associate this work with becoming a parent for a month because I'm still not so different from those kids #Like... I've literally have been told by older kids that they mistook me for a teen like them #Excuse you but I'm like 7 years older than that #It was funny tho because I was considered a bit closer to them all instead of being a big bad grown-up #Yet some kids despised me because of that in the first group because welp not being an authority figure sucks #That being my first job sucks even more because I had no idea about the unspoken rules while everyone had aside from me and mom #Second try was way better because I knew exactly what I had to do even if I was terrible at making us participate in dances and songs #Thankfully it started raining and don't you dare let kids get cold from being in the rain at night that's just ridiculous #So it was like we had a slumber party with me letting them watch GF on my laptop and read some comics #It was way better than being forced to look at the other groups winning all over again. Kids disliked losing so many times in a row #And in the end the things we planned weren't exactly enough but when they were kids were happy and I was happy because we put so much effor

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makotoscoffee · 1 year ago

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had another nightmare about Art the Clown😔

#luckily this one didn't have any confrontation #basically it was sort of like a combination of Halloween and Christmas #and we were prepared for his sort of arrival like when you we had to watch out at some point #the dream took place in our apartment and it was exactly the same except slightly different like a little bit bigger etc #anyways we had lots of family and friends overthe only one actually from real life being my grandmother and my mom #and people are coming to our door because it's like sort of trick or treating or something (including the queens from All Stars 7??)#but we don't answer cuz we're sort of anticipating that Art is coming. and I keep asking my mom like;#should we go to the store while we still have time like should we do something other than wait around #by the time I speak up it's too late and now the dream focuses on just me mom my grandma and a young girl (the other people left i guess)#basically the girl saw a reflection of Art all the way from the garden or something we live on the second for by the way #and our windows face the backyard which is quite big and you can see our downstairs neighbors' porch just below us #so what we do is we go over to the window but we have to be careful that he doesn't see us now we're sort of in Art-survival mode #he's like hyper-aware and if he sees us he'll try to get to us #I take a peek out the window and I see Art looking at himself on a reflective surface. luckily he didn't see me and I hide again #my grandma asks what's going on and I tell her just don't let him see you. and then I remember that the door to the apartment is unlocked #in the dream our door was basically useless because there was a huge like hole next to it like a window with no glass #but I lock the door anyway and it makes the tiniest little sound #and in my mind I can see Art walking out of the garden and coming towards the house. The end #in my other nightmares he's fucking chasing me with a hammer and shit

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itneverendshere · 4 months ago

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LOVED YOU AT YOUR WORST - r.c series - ONE

pairings: ex!sweethearts; rafe x thornton!reader; rafe x sofia. chapter warnings: none (angst) chapter two┆ chapter three ┆ chapter four

The bass from the speakers rattled the glass in your hand as you leaned against the porch railing, eyes scanning the backyard for him—Rafe.

It had been a long month.

Longer than you thought it would be. Usually, when you and Rafe had your little “breaks,” they lasted about a week, maybe two at most. It was always something stupid, a screaming match that ended with slammed doors and his truck peeling out of your driveway. But it never lasted. It couldn’t. You’d known each other too long, been through too much, and deep down, there was this unspoken truth—he’d always come back. Or, you would.

But this time was different.

This time, he wasn’t calling or showing up at your window in the middle of the night, eyes tired and sorry, pulling you into his arms. The space between you had been growing wider since his dad died. And sure, maybe it was your fault for what you said after Ward’s death—But it was the truth.

Still, you hadn’t expected him to shut you out completely. Two months. Two months of silence. And the only thing you’d heard about him since was through Ruthie, Topper’s new girlfriend, of all people. A random comment at Mase’s place—something about how Rafe had been hanging around some pogue girl named Sofia.

You’d rolled your eyes at that. Rafe? With some Pogue? Yeah, right. You’d pretended not to care when she tossed it out like it was nothing

You weren’t stupid.

You’d always known Rafe wasn’t the easiest guy to love. He was complicated, angry, reckless—but so were you. And in some messed-up way, that’s why you two worked. Or at least, why you thought you did. You were just as stubborn, just as damaged. But now, as you sipped your drink and looked around, something felt off. Your gut was tight, and that nagging feeling that’d been growing restless under your skin since the breakup only grew stronger the longer you stood there.

You pushed yourself off the railing, discarding your drink on a table before moving through the crowd, past people you knew but didn’t bother with. Your mind was set on one thing—Rafe. You were done with the break. You had your space. It’s time to get back together. It was never even really a question. It was just the way things worked with you two.

But then there was Ruthie—blocking your path, her wide smile dripping with the kind of smugness that set your teeth on edge. She looked like she was reveling in your misery and that little giggle she let out only made it worse.

"So glad you could make it!" she sang out, her voice too sweet, too bright. Her eyes flickered over you like she was sizing you up, taking stock of every inch of your perfectly put-together outfit.

You forced a smile, “Yeah, well, wouldn’t miss a party like this,” you said, keeping your tone casual.

You weren’t in the mood for whatever game she was playing.

“Oh, I just bet,” she replied, her smile growing wider. She stepped closer, her breath reeking of cheap wine, and you had to resist the urge to roll your eyes. Ruthie always drank too much at these things.

What the hell was her problem? She always acted like she knew something you didn’t, like she held the keys to all the dirty little secrets in Kildare, and she loved dangling them in front of people just to watch them squirm.

“Ruthie, I swear to God—” you began, but she cut you off, her grin widening.

“Oh, honey,” she cooed, her voice dripping with fake sympathy, “don’t get mad at me. I’m just the messenger. You should really be talking to Rafe about this.” She took a step back, still smiling, and glanced over her shoulder. “He’s around, you know. You can go find him yourself. See how cozy he’s gotten with her.”

You bit your tongue, jaw, forcing yourself to stay calm. She was trying to get under your skin, like the snake she’d always been. You couldn’t believe Top was lonely and horny enough to finally fall into her claws.

“Thanks for the tip,” you gave her a tight lipped grimace, brushing past her, didn’t try and wait for her reply.

You only caught glimpses of empty rooms along the way. You hadn’t seen him since the break, and part of you didn’t want to admit how much that messed you up. How much he messed you up. Your steps slowed as you neared the hall that led to the back of the house, the sound of voices filtering through the air. You recognized some, laughed at the drunken ramblings, until one voice cut through the noise. Rafe’s.

And then you heard hers. No fucking way.

You didn’t stop. You couldn’t. You told yourself you just needed to see him, just talk to him, tell him this break had gone on long enough, that you were done with the games. That’s when you heard it again—her laugh. It was light, flirtatious, the kind of laugh that made your stomach turn into a million different directions because you knew exactly what it meant.

She was there, with him.

You moved forward, the hallway barely lit as you reached the half-closed bathroom door. Your breath hitched, hands trembling as you peeked through the small crack, unable to stop yourself from looking.

There they were.

She was smiling, laughing softly at something he’d said, her fingers brushing through her hair as if she didn’t have a care in the world. Your breath caught in your throat as you watched his hands move, tying the knot in her bikini with such gentle precision like he’d done it a thousand times. The kind of softness he used to have with you. And then he said it, his voice teasing, amused like this was some kind of inside joke between them.

"God, this is just landing right in my lap, isn’t it?"

You froze.

He laughed quietly, his lips brushing against Sofia’s shoulder as he tied the last knot, and the way he touched her—like she was something to be savored—sent a rush of pure, burning humiliation straight through your chest.

You stumbled back, your heart pounding in your ears as Rafe’s words repeated over and over in your head. Landing right in my lap. What the fuck was this?

Your heart clenched, vision blurring as what you were seeing slammed right into you. You backed away, your hand flying to your mouth to stop the sob from escaping. But it didn’t help. Not even à little. The tears burned, and you turned quickly, practically running back through the house and out the door before anyone could see the humiliating mess you were becoming.

It was real. He moved on. In two fucking months.

That’s all it had taken for him to replace you. To be done with you. He was over you. Just like that.

After everything you’d been through together, after all the times you had to pull him out of his own darkness, after the nights spent in his arms when you thought you couldn’t breathe because your whole family was gone—after years of being his and him being yours—how the fuck could he move on when you’d been rotting away in self loathing for pushing him away?

Your head spun as you stumbled down the steps, out to the street where your car was parked. You couldn’t breathe. Your breaths were coming out too fast, too shallow, and your hands were shaking so hard you had to press them against your knees to hold yourself up.

What the hell was wrong with you? You hadn’t even had anything to drink.

But your stomach was rolling, twisting in knots so tight you could barely stand straight. You leaned against the side of your car, the cool metal grounding you to reality for a second before a wave of nausea hit, forcing you to double over and retch onto the pavement. Tears stung your eyes as you coughed, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

You felt dizzy, disgusted even, everything you thought you knew, everything you thought was yours, had been ripped out from under you.

Without a single warning. Not a text, not a stupid call, just pure indifference. No respect or regard for you. None of them. Everything you’d just seen replayed in your mind—Rafe, her, the way he touched her like she meant something to him.

“Look who’s still standing!” Topper’s voice. He was laughing as he strolled over, hands shoved in his pockets, that same carefree grin on his face that he always had at parties. “Jesus, what did you have to drink? You look like you’ve been hit by a truck.”

Normally, you might have had something to say back, maybe a fiery insult or a roll of your eyes. But right now, everything felt like too much. You couldn’t say a word. You could barely breathe.

Your cousin stopped beside you, his grin dropping as he finally looked at you. “Hey, what’s wrong?” He leaned down, trying to catch your eyes. “You good? You look kinda—"

You cut him off, the question was heavy, like a lump lodged in your throat. “Did you know?”

He blinked, the confusion spreading across his face. “Know what?”

You swallowed, your heart hammering in your chest as you forced the words out, your voice shaking. “About Rafe and Sofia.”

You hated saying her name.

Hated that you’d been forced to know it by heart. Topper’s smile dropped, his expression changing.

He didn’t answer. He didn’t have to, you knew him well enough to read his micro expressions. You clenched your fists, it felt like you were the only one in the island who’d been let out of the secret.

Surely, your friends, your only family would’ve told you something right? It’s not like you were on a remote island away from them. You’d spent the last month in New York, not in the fucking jungle. You visited occasionally. You were a call away.

“Did everyone fucking know?”

Topper exhaled slowly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Look, we didn’t think it was serious. You know how it is with you two—you’ve done this before. Played with other people…”

Played with other people. Like you and Rafe were just some game, a revolving door of heartbreak and hookups. It didn’t make sense. You’d always known how it worked, understood how these things went—sure, you’d had your minor flings, and he’d had his, but it was never real.

You stumbled back, feeling like you might collapse. “Oh my God, I’m going to be sick again.”

He reached out, obviously concerned since he hadn’t seen you in this desperate state in years, “Hey, hey, calm down. Look, it’s not like it means anything. Rafe’s just—he’s going through a lot with his dad dying, and he… he’s just messing around. You know how he gets.”

But the words did nothing to soothe you. They only made it worse—how everyone knew. How they’d all watched Rafe move on, while you were stuck, still reeling from the breakup, thinking he’d come back like he always did. And he was just out there, with her.

With someone else. You pressed a hand to your stomach, your head hurting. The idea of Sofia, of Rafe being with someone else in ways that only you knew—ways that had always been yours—made you feel like you were being torn apart.

Topper was still talking, still trying to rationalize it, but his words were like static now, blending into the noise of the party behind you. “It doesn’t mean anything,” he was saying. “You know how it goes. You always end up back together. He’s just doing whatever to distract himself.”

That word. Distract himself. Like your entire relationship could be boiled down to that—a series of distractions until you decided to come back to each other, to pick up the pieces and pretend everything was okay.

You could still remember the night your life changed—the phone call, the horrible, gut-wrenching moment when you learned that your family’s private plane had gone down. Your parents. Your sister. Gone. Just like that. And Rafe had been the one to pull you through it. He was the one who had held you as you cried so hard you thought you were going to die, who sat with you in silence when you couldn’t bring yourself to speak, who stayed with you every single night because you were terrified to be alone in a haunted mansion that now felt like a mausoleum.

You had been seventeen, and losing them all at once had killed something inside of you. But he was there. He wasn’t perfect—far from it—but he knew what it was like to grieve.

He knew loss. He understood. Because you’d been there for him two years earlier, when his mom lost her battle to cancer. You could still see the look in his eyes that day—fourteen years old and already drowning in so much anger and sadness, like the world had ripped something essential out of him.

The way he cried at her funeral when he thought no one was watching, and you’d found him, sat beside him in the cold, letting him cry without saying a word. You hadn’t started dating yet, hadn’t crossed that line, but something had changed between you two in those moments.

A connection, a bond forged in shared pain, in the kind of trauma that no one else really got. Maybe that was why you were so obsessed with each other. Maybe it was fucked up, but you couldn’t imagine anyone else understanding you the way Rafe did.

How could it all come down to this? To you standing here, feeling like the world was ending while he moved on, laughing and touching someone else like nothing you had ever been through mattered?

Was that it? Did that one moment, that one argument about Ward, erase everything you’d done for him?

All the times you’d been there, the way you had comforted him when he felt like his life was spiraling? You remembered exactly what you’d said a month after the funeral, when your boyfriend blamed everyone but Ward for his own death. "He wasn’t a good person, baby. I know he was your dad, but you can’t pretend like he didn’t fuck you up."

You hadn’t even said it to hurt him, not really. It was just the truth. Ward had been a terrible father, controlling and manipulative, and you’d spent years watching Rafe try to live up to some impossible standard, chasing his father’s approval like it would ever be enough. But that didn’t make it easier for him to hear. You should have known better. You should have known how raw he was after losing his dad, how complicated his feelings were.

But instead, you’d been brutal. Honest, but brutal.

And now, two months later, here you were—staring at the empty street, wondering if you’d pushed him too far. If that one moment of honesty was enough to make him forget everything else. Now you were just the ex, the crazy one who didn’t know when to keep her mouth shut.

“Fuck, why did I say that?” you whispered to yourself, voice shaking. Why couldn’t you have just let it go?

But then another clarity of anger took over you, pushing away the guilt that had been building inside. So you’d been too harsh about Ward. So you’d said what everyone else had been too scared to say. It wasn’t like you’d been wrong. Ward had messed Rafe up.

Everyone knew it. He knew it, deep down.

You gritted your teeth, staring out at the dark street, the low hum of the party still buzzing faintly behind you. You were never going to get that picture out of your head. Like they hadn’t just met, like you hadn’t spent years learning how to calm Rafe when he spiraled, how to hold him together when he couldn’t hold himself.

Your chest tightened again, a bitter taste rising in your throat.

You could still feel the weight of his head on your shoulder that night, years ago, when his mom passed. The silent sobs that shook his body, the way he’d held onto you. That was the real Rafe—the one he hid from everyone else. The one who was lost and broken underneath all the anger. And you’d seen him, really seen him in ways no one else ever could. Not Sofia. Not anyone.

"Look, you're emotional, okay? I get it. Maybe it's that time of the month or something. You know how you always get when your hormones go crazy."

The words got to you, but not in the way he probably thought they would. At first, it pissed you off, like it always did when people tried to downplay your emotions. Everyone always said you felt too much. That you were out of control.

But then…

You stopped moving, blinking rapidly as his words spiraled around in your brain. ‘Time of the month’, he'd said.

Your heart started doing summersaults, your stomach dropping as the idea settled in. You grabbed your phone, hands trembling like leaves as you opened the calendar app. You scrolled, trying to think, trying to remember when you’d last…fuck.

You hadn’t had your period in… so long.

Almost two months. No. No, no, no. This couldn’t be happening. It had to be some kind of fucked up joke.

You felt light-headed as you reached for your car again, your body shaking so badly you could barely stand against the door. "Shit."

How could you not have noticed?

Topper noticed the change in you instantly, his brow furrowing. "What’s wrong with you?" he asked, his tone softening a little. "You okay?"

You couldn’t even form a sentence. Your brain was too full of what-ifs. Two months late.

You hadn't even thought about it until now—everything had taken so much space in your head that you hadn't noticed the most obvious sign. This wasn’t possible. Your hand flew to your stomach, almost instinctively. You had no idea what to do with the panic creeping up your throat.

“Shit,” You hissed, this time louder, trying to push the growing dread down. But it wouldn't go away.

He was still staring at you, “What? What’s going on? You’re freaking me out.”

But you were already backing away, shaking your head, “I—I need to go,” You mumbled, barely hearing yourself.

Your cousin moved quickly to block your path as you tried to make your way toward the door. That kind of protective streak only made you want to shove past him even more.

"You’re not driving in this state." he warned you, voice firm, his hands up like he was trying to physically stop you.

You just glared at him, “Fucking watch me.”

He didn’t budge. "You get in that car and I'm calling Rafe," he said, sounding dead serious.

You couldn’t believe it. Your head was already spinning, and he was trying to guilt-trip you like this was some kind of helpful thing to do? You threw your hands up in frustration, voice rising, cracking. "He’s too busy fucking Sofia. Knock yourself out."

The words felt like venom in your mouth, the bitterness rolling off your tongue. You didn’t care how harsh they sounded. You didn’t care about anything anymore except getting away from this suffocating stupid place. Before he could say anything else, you made your move. You pushed past him with all your strength, chest hurting with the urge to feel something other than this suffocating mess of emotions and confusion.

Your hands shook as you fumbled for your keys. You managed to unlock the door, sliding into the driver’s seat, the cool leather biting into your skin.

You needed to think. But all you could think about was that one, terrifying realization: you might be pregnant.

Your breath hitched, terror swirling around your chest. The calendar app was still open on your phone, the dates staring back at you like a flashing red warning sign, daring you to confront the truth you’d been ignoring. Two months. Two months without a period. And you hadn’t even noticed. You pressed a hand to your stomach again, heart pounding as if it was trying to escape your chest. This couldn’t be happening. Not now. Not like this.

You weren’t thinking clearly—shit, you weren’t thinking at all, but you couldn’t stay here. Not with Topper trying to baby you, not with him out there, living his best life like you didn’t even exist.

You turned the key, the engine roaring to life, and just as you gripped the wheel, ready to peel out of the driveway, Topper bolted in front of the car, planting himself right there like some kind of human roadblock. Fucking idiot. His arms were stretched out wide, like he could somehow stop you by sheer willpower.

“You’re not doing this, I swear to God, you’re not!” he yelled, his voice frantic, echoing off the dark street. He looked panicked, pleading even, like he was convinced you’d actually go through with it.

You gritted your teeth, eyes narrowing on him through the windshield. “Top, I swear, you have three seconds before I run you over.”

“Are you serious right now?” he yelled, his voice cracking with disbelief. But he didn’t move. “You think I’m letting you drive like this? You’re out of your fuckin’ mind!”

Your fingers gripping the wheel so hard it hurt. You weren’t bluffing. You were too wound up, too out of control. The only thing keeping you from flooring him was the fact that, deep down, you knew your cousin didn’t deserve it.

You just needed to get out of here.

“Move!” you screamed, “I’m not joking’, Topper. Get the fuck out of my way!”

His face twisted with frustration as he looked over his shoulder, something catching his attention. He started waving, yelling at someone, his voice cutting through the night, “Rafe! Dude, get over here!”

Your brain stopped. It was like everything had been sucked out of you. Your hands froze on the wheel, your entire body locking up as you looked to your right and saw him—Rafe. Right there in the yard.

And she was with him. He had his arm draped around her casually, like she belonged there.

Like he belonged there, just standing in the open, so stupidly comfortable in his new life. His head turned when he heard Topper call out, and your eyes locked for a less than a second. A moment too long. A moment that broke something inside you.

While Topper was distracted, his attention on Rafe, you made your move. You slammed your foot on the gas, tires screeching as the car lurched forward, swerving just enough to dodge Topper’s stunned figure. You heard him yell after you, but his voice faded into the background noise as you sped away.

You didn’t look back. Not at Top, not at Rafe.

The only thing you could hear was the sound of your own heartbeat pounding in your ears, drowning out everything else. You hated this. Hated that you were crying. Hated that you’d let yourself get to this point.

“God, what is wrong with me?” you muttered, your voice quavering as the words tumbled out. “Why the fuck am I crying over him? I shouldn’t be crying over him.” You slammed your palm against the steering wheel, angry, disgusted with yourself.

You’d told yourself you were stronger than this—that after everything you’d been through, you didn’t need him or anyone else. But here you were, falling apart like some pathetic excuse of a mess because of him. Because he had always been there, hadn’t he? After the crash, after you lost everything, he was the one constant, the one person who kept you from completely losing it. You’d relied on him so much. Too much.

“Fuck,” you hissed, tears streaming down your face. Your throat burned as the memories came flooding back, memories of all the nights you’d spent together, of him holding you while you cried yourself to sleep, of the way he’d pulled you out of the gloom when you thought you’d never get back up again. You thought he’d always be that person for you, the one who understood your broken pieces because he had his own. You’d always fit together perfectly.

You pulled into the parking lot of the nearest drugstore, your hands still shaking as you put the car in park. The tears had dried up on the drive over, replaced by a cold determination. You didn’t want to be here. Didn’t want to even think about what you were about to do.

The moment you stepped out of your car and into the harsh fluorescent lighting of the drugstore, you felt completely out of place—like a stranger in your own skin. You hadn’t even thought about how ridiculous you must’ve looked until you caught your reflection in one of the store’s glass windows. Your hair, still perfect from earlier, framed your face in soft waves, and your makeup was flawless, despite the crying. The designer dress you were wearing—sleek, red, and worth more than half the shit in this store—with its sticky floors and white lights, it made you feel like an alien. Like you didn’t belong.

You caught the eyes of a couple of people loitering outside the entrance as you walked in, their stares lingering a little too long, murmuring to each other behind smirks. You knew they were talking about you. They always did, kook queen, overdressed, out of touch, bitch, whatever they wanted to call you.

The sliding doors let out a grating beep as you entered, and the air inside was stale and heavy, reeking of floor cleaner and cheap perfume. You adjusted your grip on your purse, strutting past the aisles with your head high even though everything inside you felt like it was falling apart.

You always did this—dressed to kill, head up, like armor. But there was no real glamour in buying pregnancy tests from some random pharmacy in the middle of the night. No way to mask the deep, growing hysteria in your bones.

The girl behind the register clocked you the second you stepped up to the counter, her eyes dragging over your like she couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing. You could almost hear her thoughts: What the hell is someone like you doing here?

You didn’t even look at her. You just wanted to pay and leave without a scene. But of course, people always found a way to make things worse. She hesitated before scanning the tests, looking like she might say something. For her own good, you prayed she didn’t.

You threw the money on the counter before she could open her mouth, two crisp hundreds on top of the total. The cash hit the counter with a sharp thwap and you gave her the bitchiest look you could muster. “Take it. Keep your fucking mouth shut.”

She swallowed hard, her hand trembling as she slid the bills into the register. You didn’t care that she was young or nervous. You weren’t here to make friends. You weren’t here for anyone’s sympathy. The extra money would make sure she didn’t talk, that was all that mattered.

You walked out, your heels clicking against the linoleum, head high, even though every nerve in your body screamed for you to disappear. You slid into your truck, slamming the door shut, the silence finally hitting you. For all the designer clothes, the makeup, the money—none of it meant shit right now. You felt so small. So scared. Terribly lonely.

You sat there for what felt like forever, staring at the stupid bag in the passenger seat like it had the power to ruin your whole life—which, to be fair, it kind of did. You didn’t know what the fuck you were going to do. Not about any of it.

Your foot tapped nervously against the floor mat, the sound too loud in the quiet car. The bag crinkled as you glanced at it again, your stomach twisting all over again. A bunch of pregnancy tests. How had it come to this?

Rafe. You squeezed your eyes shut, willing yourself not to think about him, not to picture his face when he found out. If he found out. Shit, what the hell was he going to do? He was with Sofia now, right? So was this going to ruin his life too? Did he even deserve to know?

It was probably nothing, you told yourself. Maybe the separation anxiety had gotten to you. Maybe your body was just fucked up from all the stress. Maybe your period was just late because you’d been so all over the place lately. There could be a million reasons. You didn’t even want to think about what would happen if it wasn’t nothing.

You didn’t want to cry anymore. Not after all of this. Not over Rafe. Not over your life turning into some fucking soap opera you didn’t even want to be a part of.

The second you were inside your house, the walls closed in around you. Your perfectly decorated place—the one you’d spent so much time making into a refuge, an escape—it didn’t feel like that anymore. Every designer pillow, every carefully chosen piece of art, mocking you.

Your phone buzzed in your bag, you reached for it. Of course, it was Rafe.

“I don’t know what the fuck that was but save the fucking dramatics, okay?”

The nerve. The fucking nerve of him to act like he was the center of your universe, acting like you were some inconvenience. Months of silence and this was the first thing he decided to text you? Knowing how much you despised when people called you a drama queen? Fucking piece of shit.

Your fingers hovered over the screen, a thousand different responses running through your mind. You wanted to tell him to shove something up his ass. But you did the only thing that felt right in that moment.

You blocked him. You stared at your phone, half expecting it to buzz again, half dreading that it wouldn’t. It was done. You cut him off, at least in that tiny, virtual way. You sat there for a minute, gripping the phone, trying to remember how to breathe.

This was supposed to feel empowering, right? You told yourself it would. That cutting him out would help you get back some control. But your mind wouldn’t settle. Those damn pregnancy tests were sitting in the bag next to you.

You were tired.

Exhausted in a way that had nothing to do with how late it was or how emotionally spent you were. You kicked off your heels, letting them clatter against the hardwood floor as you sank into the plush couch. Your house felt cold and unwelcoming tonight. Like a showroom. No comfort to be found. Not here, not in the muted tones of beige and white. Not in the sleek lines of furniture that were supposed to exude elegance and sophistication.

Maybe tomorrow you’d feel differently.

Maybe you’d wake up with a clear head, ready to take the stupid tests. Maybe you’d be strong again like you’d been so many times before.

Tonight, you were just tired. You leaned back against the cushions, closing your eyes for a moment, willing the noise in your head to quiet down. Sleep. That’s what you needed. Just a few hours to clear your mind, and in the morning, you’d deal with everything.

All of this would go away.

TAGLIST: @maybankslover @october-baby25 @haruvalentine4321 @hopelesslydevoted2paige @rafebb

@rafesbbyy @whytheylosttheirminds @astarlights @bruher @nosebeers @carrerascameron @serrendiipty @sunny1616

@yootvi @ditzyzombiesblog @psychocitylights @maibelitaaura @kiiyomei

@stoned-writer @justafangirls-blog-deactivated2 @starkeygirlposts @enjoymyloves @ijustwanttoreadlols

@icaqttt

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plethorawrites · 1 month ago

Note

Oh, I really, really like your recent blurb! Jason having a secret girlfriend/family is my favorite trope, but it is so hard to find!

Would you write about silly instances where Jason spots his family in public and tries to shuffle and guide you away without you noticing?

Ahh! I feel that validated in both my love of Jason and my love of the secret relationship trope! (This might not be exactly what you were looking for, but I hope you like it anyway!)

The first time it happened was a few weeks into your relationship, back When the two of you would meet for breakfast or brunch at the little cafe, a few blocks away from where you worked.

Jason Todd would always show up, yawning and exhausted from how tired he always was since he hadn't told you about his night job yet. But he was still on time, excited to see you even if he would go straight home and nap immediately afterwards.

The two of you would always spend more time talking getting to know one another than actually looking over the menu and ordering something to eat, but neither of you minded.

Then, one day, while he was looking away from you to hide the smile you had caused, he caught sight of Tim waiting in line to order a coffee.

Without really thinking about it, he grabbed both of your menus, propping them up and leaning over the table, trying to hide both your faces.

You frowned in confusion but leaned in too, until your faces were close together. "What are you doing?" You whispered.

"Nothing," he lied poorly, being his head over the top of a menu to see if his brother was still there and darting his head back down when Tim walked past the table. He let out a breath of relief, staring at you. "You look really pretty this close."

With an amused eye roll you leaned back in your chair, folding your arms and waiting for a better explanation. "You just wanted to talk really close for a moment?"

"Okay, fine," he sighed heavily. "I wanted to look at your freckles, alright? They're adorable. The ones on your nose are really cute."

It wasn't a lie, technically. He did love them. And you actually believed him, he thought. Or if you didn't, you didn't push the topic.

The next time you accidentally ran into somebody was at the mall, when you had dragged Jason along to help you look for a dress for a mystery date night he said nothing about, except for the fact that you had to wear something nice.

It was just his luck that you had picked the same store Stephanie happened to be shopping in as well. In most circumstances, she might not even notice him when they crossed paths in public, but in a woman's clothing store which was relatively empty, there was no way she wouldn't see him when she turned around.

Without warning, he tugged you away from rack you were looking at, pulling you into a cramped dressing room, locking it behind you.

"Wha-" You stared at him like he had lost his mind. "Why are we the dressing room?"

"How do women try stuff on when they can't turn around?" He countered, ignoring your question and planting his hand on the wall by your head to try to give himself more room in the tight space.

"It's typically not made for two people," you explained "Especially not 6'2 men."

He grinned a bit. "Do you like my height?" He asked, enjoying the proximity a bit more than he would admit.

Yes. Obviously. Who wouldn't? He towered over you. His arms could wrap around your entire body without even straining to cover more skin. Plus, he could reach the top shelf so you didn't have to climb on a chair.

But it was still too early in the relationship to tell him that.

"That's besides the point," you muttered. " Why are we in the dressing room?" You repeated.

"I just...always wanted to see a woman's dressing room," he told you, frowning at his own lie.

"Seriously?" You questioned. "You could have at least picked the big one at the end. And you didn't even let me pick anything to try on."

"Right, well..I figured we could try a different store," Jason explained, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. "Nothing here would do you justice."

You huffed, finding it slightly amusing how foolish he was acting. But frankly, it wasn't terribly bad to be stuck in a tight space with him. So, you waited a moment longer before unlocking the stall.

You still had to find a dress.

Things were peaceful for a bit, you and Jason seemed to be growing stronger in your relationship and things began to get a little bit more serious. Jason seemed to be growing stronger in your relationship and things began to get a little bit more intense.

He knew that eventually he'd have to tell his family about you, but the next time he saw one of his brothers in public, he couldn't help but shy away from the task of introducing you.

In his defense, Damian really wasn't the first sibling you would want to meet.

He'd taken you to a nature preserve, because you said you used to go all the time as a kid but stopped after getting older.

You were practically giddy, feeding the animals from your palm, scrunching your nose when their whiskers ticked you. Jason was enjoying it too, more so because of you than the animals.

But while he was mocking you for your squeals, he heard a familiar voice having a one sided conversation with a lemur.

He turned and there was Damian, having his biweekly visit to see the animals that Father wouldn't let him bring home.

Jason cursed internally, pulling you away from the animals, accidentally spilling the feed from your hand.

"Hey, I stillwanted to see the—"

"I'll bring you back, I promise," he said, cutting you off as he dragged you behind a tree.

You wiped off your hand on your jeans and tilted your head. "What is it?"

"I just think you've been giving the animals too much attention," Jason noted. "I feel left out."

"Oh, c'mon," you rolled your eyes.

"Really," he insisted. "You kissed a sloth and a goat but not me."

He pouted a bit and leaned back against the tree, still holding you arm, though loosening his grip before running his hand up and down your arm apologetically.

You sighed, glancing around briefly, not really taking notice of the small, angry child, yelling at some poor worker, before leaning up on your tip toes to kiss his lips very quickly. "Satisfied?"

He smiled softly. "No." He shook his head, pointing to the exit. "Can we leave?" He asked gently.

"Will you bring me back?"

Jason nodded immediately. "Whenever you want," he said.

You gave up and left with him.

Now, if you really thought about it, you could easily put two and two together, but really, the instances were so far apart that you didn't really question the strange behavior.

He had managed to be, for the most part, pretty subtle about pulling you away from his family whenever he encountered them, as few and far between as those moments were.

Like the time you were walking down the street while it was raining and he spotted Duke crossing the street towards your direction. Even though he knew you loved the rain and hated umbrellas, he still pulled his jacket off, covering your head.

"Jay, I told you, I'm fine," you assured him, trying to move it off of you.

"Yeah, but you'll catch a cold," he insisted, pulling even further over your head while blatantly stealing an umbrella from a small stand that was selling them.

He popped it open, covering his own face as you walked past Duke.

"I will not," you told him, finally tugging it off. You frowned, not feeling any rain on your skin. "Where the hell did the umbrella come from?"

"Uh- someone handed it to me," Jason muttered. "Nice man."

And even though he despised running into people he knew because it always put him on high alert, trying to figure out what to do or where to go to keep whoever they ran into from spotting them, sometimes, he actually rather enjoyed the chance to pull you away from the rest of the world.

For instance, when you insisted on going to a carnival, which he wasn't a big fan of at first, until you guys got there and he saw your eyes twinkling at all the lights.

Any thoughts of boredom were quickly drowned out by the sound of your screams on the scarier rides, when you'd reach for his hand. And he bought every single treat you so much as looked at— the funnel cakes, the fresh lemonade, the Carmel corn.

He was watching you pull fresh cotton candy from the stick it was spun around when out of the corner of his eye he caught his brother Dick, along with Wally walking across the fair grounds.

Jason was sure they wouldn't notice you with how far away they were, but he refused to take the chance. So, he interlocked your hands, tugging you into a nearby photo booth as you made a sound of confusion.

"Just thought we should grab a souvenir," he said, beating you to the punch before you could ask what he was doing.

"I'm still eating my cotton candy," You told him. "I should fix my hair too."

Jason got a devilish glint in his eye and ran his hand through your hair jostling it further as you screeched in disbelief. "I think it looks good like that," he admitted, staring at you now that it had a bit more volume.

You blew a loose strand from your face. "I can't believe you did that," you stated. "It's all disheveled."

He nodded, still thinking it looked beautiful. Sort of like how it was when you woke up next to him.

"C'mon," he urged, pulling you into his lap. "I like you this way." He threw a few quarters in the slot and before you knew it you had a strip of three pictures, none of which were appropriate to show to anyone.

A picture of him stealing your cotton candy, a picture of him nuzzling your neck while you scrunched your nose in the way that made his heart clench, and a picture of him tasting said cotton candy on your tongue.

So, maybe it was an over reaction to pull you away from the rest of his carnival when it was huge and chances were Dick never would have even seen you. But God, did he enjoy it.

Then, there were, of course, the far less subtle times which didn't end quite as well.

Like when you just so happened to be walking out of a movie at the same time Cassandra and Barbara were heading into one.

"I think the sequel might actually be better than the original," you told him, arms interlinked as you walked.

"Uh huh," he wasn't paying attention anymore after seeing his sister and Babs at the soda machine, filling up their drinks.

He couldn't exactly pull you into a different theater, especially since he didn't know which one they would be going into.

The next best option? Throwing the empty popcorn bucket over your head.

"Jay?!" You exclaimed.

"It's a discount thing," he muttered vaguely, grimacing at his own excuse. "Wear the bucket out and you get a free movie."

Okay, not the next best, probably. Maybe like...sixth best? Seventh at most.

He pulled you past them, keeping his hand on the top of the bucket to keep it in place while raising his hoodie and keeping on the 3D glasses from the movie until you were past them both.

Once you were, he pulled it off and you were...well, fuming. Rightfully so.

"What the hell was that?" You asked, a bit bitterly, not buying his excuse for a second. "I'm covered in popcorn butter.

He cleared his throat, kissing your greasy cheek and licking his lips tasting a salty popcorn and butter on your skin. "Tastes good, though," he mumbled.

You stormed out on him.

And then, when you chose to walk all the way back to your apartment in frustration, both with his actions and lies, he finally came clean.

"I just... don't want my family to mess anything up between us," he confessed, barely even looking at you.

Vulnerability wasn't his strongest asset, but he was trying. For you.

You washed your face off in the sink for the third time and still felt greasy. Even if you got it all off your face, you'd need a shower to get it out of your hair.

"Why couldn't you just tell me that?" You asked, still confused. It wasn't like you didn't already know who his family was.

"I just- I didn't want you to think I was hiding you," he muttered.

"Jason, you put a bowl of popcorn over my head so your sister wouldn't see me. That's hiding," you stated firmly.

"Yes but it's not hiding out of embarrassment!" He clarified. "My family can be a lot to handle and they might scare you off and they'd definitely mock me endlessly for being in love with you."

His eyes went wide. That...was an accident. He didn't mean to confess that.

You stared at him for a moment, blinking. "Did you just say what I think you did?"

"I uh- well that wasn't..." He cleared his throat. "Yeah," he finally agreed with a slight nod. "But you don't have to say it back or anything, I know I'm not the easiest person to love and it—"

You were already kissing him, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer. He was caught off guard, but it didn't take him long before he kissed you back, his hands finding your waist and steadying you both.

"You're stupidly easy to love," you told him, resting your forehead on his.

(+Bonus)

It was a quiet Friday night when the two of you were at a nice restaurant, celebrating a year of being together. The food was good, the music was soft and nice, and Jason was practically a drooling mess over you, like usual.

So much so, he didn't even notice when his father walked into the restaurant with a date of his own.

You did, though. And in keeping with the spirit of what had apparently been a pretty large part of your relationship, even without you knowing it, you slid out of the booth quickly grabbing his hand and pulling him from his chair.

"Hey, wait a second!" He exclaimed as you rushed him out of the restaurant before he got to finish his dessert. "We still have to pay."

"We'll come back tomorrow and pay," you assured him, pushing open the door, into the cold evening.

"What the hell was that about?" Jason asked once you were outside and seemingly slowed down.

You pointed towards the window. "Your dad," you muttered.

He could see Bruce sitting at a table across from Selina, his eyes scanning a menu while occasionally looking up, probably to compliment her or something.

He huffed. "Add that restaurant to the list of places we can't go," he mumbled, shrugging off his jacket and handing it to you. "It got cold outside," he simply said when you frowned in confusion.

You pulled on the nice jacket that matched his suit. "Thanks," you said, wrapping your arm around his, tugging him away from the restaurant. "C'mon, I'll buy some more dessert."

He hummed, and pressed a kiss against your head. "Alright," he agreed, letting you lead him away from the restaurant and down the street.

#x reader #headcanon #jason todd #jason todd imagine #jason todd x reader #batboys #jason todd x you #dc comics #plethorawrites

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