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bravo4iscool · 1 year ago

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Hey hey, I'd like to give an idea!!

I know that a lot of people actually focus on ghost x reader stuff, AND THAT'S OK, but I've been thinking about some content of reader actually being Simon's kid or something. Because I only find content similar to it in very weird accounts that somehow turn those into incest fanfics, and it gives me the ick.

I'll understand if you just ignore this or not feel like writing it, I just felt like I wanted to bring this idea up because, well, why not.

I LOVE THIS!!! thank you so much for trusting me with this! i’ll try my best hahaha.

i love simon’s!kid fanfics and all those incest fics really are the bane of my existence😭. how tf do you come up with stuff like that lmao?

anyways, since you weren’t specific with the type of fic you want i’m gonna turn this into a (toxic!)singledad!simon!AU🫣

for this i’m taking inspiration from my favourite series ‘seal team’ and its main character the navy seal master chief jason hayes.

he (jason) has two children (one daughter and one son) and is anything but a perfect father. he tried to be better after his ex wive’s death but, well…

but i don’t wanna talk too much, let’s go🫣

readers nickname is nugget btw and they have a younger brother named jacob :)

(i hope you like this, i tried my best😭)

(masterlist)

REQUESTS/ASKS OPEN!!!

You sigh and shrug off your jacket. You’re drenched in water, a little puddle forming where you stand. You shiver and pull off your shoes with a grunt, hoping that you didn’t alert your dad.

“Hey Nugget.” You grimace when you hear your dad’s voice. You didn’t want him to notice you.

“Hi dad,” you quickly greet him, trying to squish past him but he grabs your arm, holding you back. You take a deep breath before you look at him. The sooner this was over the better.

“Why are your clothes wet?” he wants to know, looking you up and down, frowning at you.

“It’s raining outside,” you drily remark, clearing your throat when he hits you with a sharp gaze. You sigh, “You were meant to pick me up but you didn’t show up, okay? All my friends were gone and I needed to walk home.”

His grip around your arm weakens and he frowns at you again. “What do you mean, I was supposed to pick you up?”

“The way I said it. You told me you’d pick me up but you didn’t show.” You shrug. “It’s nothing new, no? Now, can I please go to my room? I’d like to change.” You wait for his answer but you get none. He only lets go of your arm, watching after you when you leave.

You peek into your brothers room before you walk into your bathroom and check after him. “Hey Josy. Have you eaten already?” you want to know, leaning against his doorframe.

He looks up from his game, smiling and shaking his head. “Nah. He came home like two hours ago. He hasn’t talked to me.”

You roll your eyes, pushing yourself off the door frame. “Okay. I’ll quickly shower and then I’ll see what I can make. You good with that?”

“Jup,” your little brother answers, already too distracted by his video game again. You shake your head with a smile, heading towards your bathroom.

“You want something to eat?” you ask Simon when you start to rummage around in the kitchen. “Josy said he didn’t have anything so I thought about making some,” you tell him, barely waiting for your dad’s response.

But when you really don’t get one you turn around and and walk a couple steps into the living room. There you see him, peacefully sleeping on the couch, one arms dangling off the side and his mouth slightly agape.

You smile to yourself and carefully walk towards him to drape a blanket over him. You look at him for a second before you lift his head to put a pillow under it. Then you leave as quietly as you arrived.

When you call your brother for dinner you motion him to be quiet as he enters. “Dad’s asleep, I don’t want to wake him up,” you explain, setting Jacob’s plate down in front of him.

“Thanks,” he smiles, immediately digging into the food. “Y’know, you should become a chef with your cooking skills,” he smacks after some moments, nodding along to his statement.

You chuckle and shake your head. “You know that there’s no culinary school around here… Besides I can’t leave you or dad alone.”

Jacob only rolls his eyes at that, stuffing another fork of food into his mouth. “Sometimes I think he doesn’t even care about us.”

You immediately frown at your brother, holding yourself back from hardly scolding him. “Josy, don’t say that! Of course he cares about us! He’s just…” you try to find the right words to discribe your dad but, well… there was only one that came to mind. You sigh, “He’s just a bit difficult. You know his job…” You try to find excuses for his behaviour, knowing that it actually wasn’t but you didn’t want to hit your brother with the stone cold reality.

“He tries his best,” is the way you end the topic not knowing that Simon listened from the living room, his eyes filling with tears. Was he really that bad? Was he really failing that hard? Was he really so…unavailable to his children?

The next day you wake up your dad’s gone. No note, no information; he’s just gone. At first you didn’t think anything of it, he surely would be home in the evening but when he didn’t show you start to get worried.

You don’t tell Joseph about it, you keep to yourself and dial the Captains phone number. He surely could tell you where your dad was.

“Price,” he answers the phone and you let out a deep breath.

“Hi John! Is my dad with you?” you immediately ask, pacing up and down in your kitchen. “He hasn’t been home and doesn’t answer my texts or calls. I’m worried about him…” you tell the Captain, your eyes nervously darting around.

John listens to you and then tell you, “He’s not with me. We’re not due for deployment until almost two months,” he further informs you and your heart sinks.

“What do you mean, he’s not with you? Do you know where he is?” Your voice wavers and you feel your eyes starting to burn.

“I’m sorry Nugget but… I don’t know where he is…” You can hear him walking around, then he talks again. “I’ll keep my eyes out for him, okay? I’ll send someone over to you as soon as I’m finished here.”

“Oh, no no no, it’s fine. I- we don’t need someone, it’s alright,” you immediately deny, not wanting anyone else to know your dad was gone. “I’m gonna call Johnny, maybe he knows where he is. You don’t need to send someone,” you explain, chewing your nails—a habit you actually wanted to get rid of.

You can practically feel the hesitance of the Captain but after a couple seconds he agrees. “Okay. But I’ll look after you as soon as I can. I don’t want you and Joseph to be alone,” is his compromise and you can’t help but agree.

“I’ll talk to you again later, okay?” Price sighs. “Some recruit did shit and I need to fix it now.”

“Okay, yes.” You end the call, your hand wiping over your face in a state of panic. You didn’t know where your dad was, if he was okay or if he’d come back. You didn’t know how to look after yourself and Joseph, you probably needed to quit school to keep track of all the bills and-

“Where’s dad?” Joseph walks into the kitchen, headphones around his neck, munching on chips or something like that.

“He’s…at work,” you quickly lie, trying to hide you glassy eyes. “I don’t know when he’ll be back.” Jacob’s happy with that answer and opens the fridge.

“We gonna take the bus to school?” he wants to know, glancing at you.

“You’ll go alone today,” you tell him, handing him his lunch box. “I have an important appointment.”

“If you say so,” he shrugs, grabbing his backpack and leaves before you can properly say goodbye. As soon as you’re sure he left you grab your phone again and dial Johnny’s phone number.

As expected he also doesn’t know where your dad was but promises to to keep an eye out for him. Fucking hell, why did he just leave? Did someone shit in his brain or what? He’s never pulled something like that before…

Simon returns almost four months later. He didn’t know why he left. He didn’t know anything but one thing he did know was that he probably lost his children for good now…

His hands almost shake when he opens the door and he’s prepared for screaming and crying and breakdowns but when you see him your eyes widen and the mug in your hand falls to the ground.

“Dad,” you whisper and before he can even process everything you’re crashing into his arms, crying your eyes out.

“I’m sorry Nugget, I’m so sorry,” he mumbles into your hair, holding you close and never wanting to let you go again.

And you’re so close to forgiving him already; almost forgetting how you needed to quit school and take a job in the sketchy diner down the road. Almost forgetting how you cried yourself to sleep every night, trying to hide the disappearance of your dad from Joseph.

Simon feels how his hands start to shake and his eyes start to burn while he’s holding you; you’re crying in his arms and he’s so close to breaking down but then Joseph walks in.

“What do you want here?” His voice is cold, his gaze hard. He doesn’t flinch when your dad let’s go of you and straightens his back to his full height.

Your dad says nothing, only looks at his son, waiting for him to continue talking. “You left,” Joseph grits out, purposefully walking towards Simon. “You left and you didn’t even have the balls to tell us why!”

He was now screaming, his face red and his voice shaking. “How dare you come back now! How dare you!”

“Josy-“ you try to calm him down but he slaps your hand away, smacking his finger into his father’s chest.

“You think it’s okay to just leave? Nugget quit school to keep us above water while you were gone!” Joseph was now throwing pathetic punches at Simon’s chest, tears brimming him his eyes. “We needed you and you just decided to be a weak fuck and quit!”

Tears were running down your little brothers cheeks as he was hitting your dad chest and you wanted to pull him into your arms arms and comfort him but you yourself were shaking, your vision blurry from already shed tears.

“I’m sorry Josy,” Simon whispered, ignoring the punches his son was throwing at him, only pulling him into his arms and holding him close. “I don’t-“ his voice breaks. “I don’t know why I left. I’m sorry…”

Joseph shakes and cries and your heart breaks again. Carefully you walk towards them both, placing your arms around your brother. “We’ll be fine Josy,” you whisper, pressing a kiss to his head. “We’ll be fine…”

When you were alone with your dad, once Joseph went to sleep you place a cup of tea in front of him and sit down opposite of him.

“You’ve got a lot to fix,” you tell him, your expression neutral, besides your shaking hands beneath the table. “You just…disappeared and that left its scars. Don’t think that they’ll be healed just because you came home again.”

He listens to you, nodding along and staring at his tea. “I know. And i’m keen on fixing it.” He looks up and you see his red eyes. “I’m sorry I led Nugget. I’ll make it up, okay? I’ll do my best.”

“I know,” you try to believe him but in the back of your head you’re reminded of all the times he didn’t keep his promises…

pt.2 lol?

#writing #ao3 #fanfiction #archive of our own #story writing #call of duty #simon riley #cod #ghost #simon ghost riley #dad!simon riley #dad!ghost #dad!simon ghost riley #kid!reader #simon riley brainrot lol #father-child-relationship #simon’s a kinda shitty dad #but he tried his best #i promise

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electricneonvalkyrie · 22 hours ago

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Two things. I made the colossal mistake of turning all my gym buddies into fans of TLOU.

Now, my phone is blowing up with “IVES! Can you believe this? No WAY they have this tiny actress playing Abby. Tell me it’s not true.”

I thought maybe I’d share my opinions on this, but for now, let’s just dive straight into some Abby Anderson WLF GYM RAT headcanons because you know what? Our girl, without a doubt, is too busy lifting heavy ass iron plates to come to the phone right now.

Gonna have to leave her a message after the beep.

Manny lifted a shitty MP3 player from some wide-eyed recruit who badmouthed Abby when she wasn’t around.

If you've met Manny, you know he's not cool with people dissing his best friend. He proudly wrenched the device from their shaking hands and immediately hunted Abby down to present it to her.

The thing is, she never remembers to charge it.

Does she leave her earbuds in long after the battery has died, and the music stops playing? Yes. This keeps overly talkative soldiers away and blocks out the worst of their chatter, which is her intention.

She doesn’t totally hate the silent barrier, since it creates an aura of unapproachability.

She does, however, hate that Manny is the only one who never falls for it.

“You know… I went through a lot of trouble to get you that thing,” Manny says, giving Abby’s sneaker a generous kick as she repositions herself on the bench.

Abby glares up at him with a slow, deliberate roll of her eyes. “You stole it.”

“Semantics. Don’t change the subject, hermana.”

“From a recruit who was shitting his pants,” Abby snorts, shaking her head at his attempt at gallantry. She lets out a smug puff of air and lifts the barbell off the rack. “Spot me or move.”

Manny throws a hand to his chest, a theatrical sigh escaping his lips, before smoothly shifting into position behind her. “He was talking shit. I defended your honour!”

“By bullying a kid,” Abby hisses, the barbell rising and falling in a hypnotic rhythm above her chest. Her knuckles turn white from the pressure, her arms starting to shake as fatigue sets in. Her veins press against her freckled skin as she battles the urge to quit. “You want a medal for being a dick? Real noble, Manny.”

The weight strains her muscles as she lowers the bar slowly, her jaw a rigid line, teeth gritted in fierce concentration.

“For you, I do these things,” Manny gasps dramatically, his hands hovering nearby as she squeezes her eyes shut for the final rep. “And this is how you repay me?”

The bench groans under Abby's final push, the bar clanging harshly as the weight settles back onto the rack, a metallic shriek echoing through the quiet gym.

“If you spent half as much time training as you do running your mouth, you’d be dangerous,” Abby smirks.

With a sharp suck of his teeth, Manny tosses a tattered, damp towel at her head. “Next time, I’m letting it crush you.”

Speaking of things that crush, Abby exclusively carries stainless steel water bottles because they can also be used as weapons in emergencies. She doesn’t fuck with plastic. She also despises anything that condensates because it’s a sensory ick. The only time she likes her hands all slippery and wet is when—

She has multiple items in her gym bag that double as weapons, but you'll have to brave the overwhelming stench of sweat and old gym socks to find them. Despite her neat habits, Isaac's sudden assignments leave her flustered, and she occasionally neglects to empty her duffel bag. (Reason #57 that she desperately needs a girlfriend!)

Always vigilant, Abby never takes a bench or machine where someone can creep up on her. She strategically positions herself in the gym with her back to a wall, allowing her a clear view of the comings and goings of everyone around her.

If it allows her to sneak glances at you while you're deep in a squat, you’ll probably never know because you make her so nervous.

She’s in and out of the barracks showers. But when she gets the rare opportunity to shower alone, she takes her time. She loves the way her favourite pine soap lathers into a rich, creamy foam that feels cool and refreshing as it runs down her powerful body.

Also, a little birdie introduced her to the different settings on the showerhead in her apartment and with that post-workout high, her skin all flushed and dappled with sweat, she likes to… explore them.

What? Her muscles are sore. 😏

As you can probably imagine, I have about three thousand headcanons for Abby in the gym. If you dig this one, I'll happily share more. Cheers!

#abby the last of us #abby x fem!reader #abby x masc!reader #abby x reader #abby x you #abby tlou #tlou2 #abby anderson #abby anderson tlou2 #tlou #the last of us #the last of us part 2

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sarahowritesostucky · 9 months ago

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📖"Late Bloomer" (pt 1 of 2)

Rated: Explicit

Pairing: Lloyd Hansen x female reader

Tags: human trafficking, dark!Lloyd, significant undefined age gap, older man/younger reader, daddy/girl, dub con with significant non con elements, first time, innocence kink, loss of virginity, exploitation, dacryphilia, size kink, dumbification, misogyny, squirting, forced orgasm, p in v sex, light degradation, pet names, oral sex: m! and f! receiving, sexual awakening, age play vibes, little!reader, but not really: she's just drugged and really really dumb.

Word Count: 5754

Summary: She’s the purest thing he’s ever touched, this soft, tearful, quivering creature in his hands. He’s never felt such lust and violence at the same time. He desperately needs to ruin her. And yet somehow, also desperately, he needs to make sure she doesn’t get hurt.

A.N.: The age gap is left undefined. The OF is not the girl from the movie, which I haven't seen. I don't write characters as explicitly younger than 18 on Tumblr, after having a foul staff member equate any and all teenage pairings with CSAM.

That said, this fic is dark. It was started as a way to check off some of my hardest Bingo squares without actually going there, with the themes that were outside my wheelhouse or too ick for me to write. My MCU Kink Bingo card in particular, has a few of these whammies.

He imagines her as a rose: fragrant and velvet-soft. Imagines crushing her in his hand, plucking her petals off one by one, until there's nothing left.

Lloyd's always loved ruining pretty things.

The job doesn't go quite as planned, but Lloyd can be a go-with-the-flow, adapt-to-the-demands-of-the-moment type guy when he needs to be, he gets creative, and in the end it all works out alright.

The not-insubstantial bounty for the Russian perverts is regrettably forfeited when he loses his temper and gives them the brutal executions that they deserve. But that money can be made back if he finds a buyer for the yacht, he's managed to eliminate a few deplorables, and he's gained himself an unexpected prize, to boot.

Not a bad day for doing crime.

They shove the bodies overboard and retire for the night, headed for their rendezvous with the Powerbroker in Madripoor. Lloyd's men handle the cargo, already under strict orders not to touch the younger ones, whom Lloyd figures he'll arrange to have dumped off at an embassy once they dock in Jakarta.

Maybe he'll call up The Nomad Formally Known as Captain America and tip him off. Asshole has been on his tail annoyingly much, these past few months. Lloyd should send the righteous old fossil a reminder that there are way bigger scumbags plaguing the planet than his little band of hired guns.

The older girls seem relieved to have been liberated and they don't put up much of a fuss when they're divvied up amongst Lloyd's crew for the evening. Lloyd's personal pick, the poor thing whom he'd had to physically wrestle away from Yuri with a flare gun pressed right to her head, has been locked down in a stateroom to try and calm her down.

Despite what some people say, Lloyd's not an inconsiderate monster, so he does freshen up first, showering all the blowback off his face and changing into something comfortable before heading below deck. He keys in the code for the room, which is large and lavish and looks exactly like something a Russian billionaire would design. All money, no taste.

The girl's on the bed. She's still crying, but it's a pretty type of crying, rather than hysterical or snotty; tears that enhance rather than detract; the type of thing a man can really appreciate, if so inclined.

Lloyd steps into the room, takes a deep breath and reminds himself to take his time with this. No sense rushing it and wasting a good thing. He's going to savor every moment.

She squeaks when she sees him there. "Oh!"

"Shh, sh sh," he soothes. "There there now. Why're you crying, Buttercup? There's nothing to cry about. Not anymore."

He shuts the door behind himself with a gentle sound, but even though he's cooing a slew of placating nonsense at her, she still cries out in a desperate little, "No!"

"Hey, it's okay."

"Nnngh ... s-stay back!"

Lloyd's cleaned himself up since their encounter above deck, but the poor thing did just watch him collapse Yuri's face in with a pipe, so he shouldn't be surprised that she's scared. "I'm not here to hurt you," he says, then pauses when he sees that it's the gun in his hand that she's staring fearfully at.

Oh. Right. That makes sense. He'd had the muzzle of the thing pressed against her temple not too long ago, after all. Maybe he should've left that out of sight.

It's not like he'll need it to subdue her. Moving slowly and pointedly, he sets it down and holds up his empty hands. "There. It's not even a real gun, see? It was all for show, just a flare gun. It can't hurt you."

(Eh. True, it had been for show, but not so true that it couldn't have rearranged her face if he'd wanted it to. Whatever. Details.)

"It was just a little bit of drama, you understand? To make things go the way I needed them to up there. Men like that only respond to one thing." She blinks at him and he offers her a gentle smile. "L. Hansen. Freelance contractor, or rescuer, in your case. You're welcome."

"And ... those guys?"

He tuts. "Fish food, now. They've been taken care of." He takes a step closer, keeping an eye on her in case she's thinking of bolting. She still isn't here by choice, after all. As far as she knows, Lloyd is just the least bad of all the bad guys.

(Which isn't un-true).

He joins her on the bed, where she's still curled on her side, the odd sniffle and overwhelmed hiccup escaping her here and there. "Hey, hey, hey now." He crawls up beside her and forces her onto her back, which isn't hard to do with the fragile state she's already got herself worked up into. He shushes her fearful whimpers and tucks her hair behind her ear with a tender look. "You're real pretty when you cry, Angel, but I promise there's no need. Not anymore. That's all over, okay? I've got you now. You're safe."

The sweet thing sniffles and blinks up at him through clumped lashes. "I am?" she asks, the instinctive trust in her voice making Lloyd's cock thicken in his pants as he realizes that she's got about two brain cells to rub together. "Y-you promise?"

Oh, this is gonna be so fun.

He smiles down at her. "Yeah, Cupcake. I promise. You're completely safe with me." He taps her dainty little ski slope nose with a finger. "I bought you, remember? So that none of those nasty men can ever touch you again, only me. That's the rules."

For a second, the girl's chin wobbles, her eyes welling with uncertainty and the threat of more tears. But Lloyd's had enough of her being upset, doesn't have the patience to spend half the night calming her down when he's already exerted himself so much for her benefit already. Five guys are dead, his bank account is a couple hundred grand lighter (at least temporarily), he's lost the bounty he came for in the first place, and there are going to be a fascinating array of bruises on his body by morning. All this trouble, all this work for her. He's tired now, his day is over, he wants his payoff.

"Hey," he says firmly, holding her chin between two fingers. "I said: calm down. You're safe with me. Nobody's gonna hurt you anymore. You're just going to have nice things and feel good from now on. I'll take care of you."

She sniffles. "You will?"

Wow. She really is as dumb as advertised. Lloyd hums. "Sure will, Cupcake. Only nice things. Just so long as you be my good girl and do what I want. And that'll be easy as pie, because I'll always tell you what I want."

She bites her lip and lets it slip back out slowly between the grasp of her teeth. And the best part about it is that she's not even trying to be coy: she's literally just this clueless. "But," she hedges. "... what do you want?"

He smiles down at her and palms the side of her face. "Just you, Buttercup," he purrs, arousal and anticipation making his pants tight as he takes in just how beautiful she really is, with her porcelain-smooth skin and soft jaw, her baby-fat cheeks and wide, watery eyes. She really is like a doll come to life.

Lloyd can't wait to wreck her.

"What's your name, Princess?" he asks, coaxing her with a kind expression that she gravitates towards. "Hm? You can tell me. I'm Lloyd."

She giggles and looks away. "That's a funny name."

"Is it?" He laughs along with her and nods. "Yeah I suppose it is. I didn't pick it, unfortunately. But I'm going to pick your name. Something real beautiful and delicate, just like you. I'm thinking some kind of flower. How bout that?"

An adorable little frown pinches in the space between her eyebrows. "What? But, my name is - "

"I know, I know," he cuts her off, already knowing what she's going to say. He sticks his bottom lip out at her in a playful pout. "But that's such a little girl's name, don't you think? We should pick something new, since you're starting over new with me. Something more ... fitting."

He lets his eyes drag up and down her faintly curved form, the body that somebody above deck decided would be best appreciated in a tiny cotton top and pair of pink panties. If it wasn't so cute, it'd piss him off: those creeps dressing her in little girl undies in their effort to hock her along with the rest of the wares. But anyone with eyes can see she's not like the other merchandise.

Lloyd trails one finger over her hip and into the valley of her waist, appreciating the particular season of life she's in. She's limber and nubile, body almost grown into itself. A still-green sapling that's not quite done taking shape, with branches that are still soft enough to be trained this way or that as she approaches womanhood. She's malleable, moldable. Ripe for the picking.

The night above deck may have ended up in violence, but Lloyd came on-board peaceably, under the guise of a buyer, and it hadn't slipped his notice that her age was pointedly left off the dossier. It means she's quite a bit older than she looks, and the sellers hadn't wanted to lead with that.

Despite the pleasure Lloyd got out of ripping those perverts' nuts off, he still knows the business, understands the concept of maximizing one's buyer pool. Sex traffickers gonna sex traffic, and all that. But even still, there's a reason he didn't mind forfeiting that bounty. He's no hero, but he's done his bit to help. Now he fully intends to reap the benefits that've fallen into his lap as a direct result of a bunch of Russian perverts also happening to be lying salesmen.

"I'm keeping you for myself," he tells her, with another affectionate tap on the nose. "You're a very special, beautiful girl."

Her eyes widen at what she clearly perceives as a compliment, and she leans closer in a way that's so honestly naive, it makes Lloyd wonder if the dealers "enhanced" her with anything, pre-sale. He won't complain if they did, he doesn't mind a braindead bimbo, but it'd be nice to know if this is all chemically assisted, or just a natural gift. The thought nearly makes him snicker when he has it: Maybe she's born with it, maybe it's Maybelline lobotomy.

"You're special," he tells her again, trailing his fingers over her bare shoulder. "A real natural beauty."

She shakes her head bashfully. "No, m' not. I'm ... plain."

He scoffs, though privately he's thrilled (girls with low self esteem always give the best head.) "Honey, you wouldn't be in this room with me if you were 'plain'," he deadpans, not missing how she shifts and glances down at her body self-consciously. "Trust me, Sweetcheeks: men don't spend the kind of money that I just did, if what they're buying isn't astoundingly precious."

She squirms and her lashes lower onto heat-stained cheeks. "I dunno," she mumbles, embarrassed as she obviously recites someone else's words: "M' a late bloomer."

Lloyd laughs. "Well hey, that's okay. Nothing to be embarrassed about, you know. I'm glad."

"You ... are?" She peeks up at him and Lloyd smiles.

"Yeah, Baby. I am. Don't you know the best part about having a flower is getting to watch it bloom?" He thumbs at the little Botticelli cleft she's got in her chin and savors the shudder that travels through her body at that, enjoying the reaction, how hopelessly vulnerable she is. "You know," he muses, turning into her more and pressing her into the blankets. "I think that's going to be your name: Blossom. Would you like that?"

"oh—"

He cuts off that small, surprised sound by kissing her—slowly. He doesn't do much with it at first, because he wants to soak up her inexperienced reactions; wants to feel her hot little gasp of surprise and the softness of her lips pressed to his, her body stiffening and then liquifying underneath the foreign touch of a man. She doesn't know how to handle it, squeaking against his mouth and pushing up against him as his body presses her down.

"It's okay," he whispers. "You're just perfect, Little one. A perfect, tender blossom." His hand migrates to her waist and digs into all of that give, violence and lust bubbling to the forefront of his mind at how fucking delicate she is. He imagines her as a rose: fragrant and velvet-soft. Imagines crushing her in his hand, plucking her petals off one by one, until there's nothing left.

He's always liked ruining pretty things.

"Please," she whispers, trembling. Fuck.

He licks at the seam of her lips and lets his hand drag over her belly while he whispers: "I can't wait to see you bloom, Little flower." Dips inside with the tip of his tongue: "Watch you open up for me." Cups her over the front of her panties: "Watch you unfurl."

"Oh." She sighs, hips juddering reactively up against his palm and then squeaking at the jolt of pleasure it sends through her. Lloyd gives her more pressure and smiles right in her face as she gasps.

"That feels nice, doesn't it?"

"Yy-yeah, but—oh! n-no ... wait, wait, I can't." Her hips kick up again and she whines at her own body's reactions. "Nnn, wait ..." Her hands grab at Lloyd's wrist where he's cupping her, but when he doesn't stop rocking his palm she grapples up at his shoulders instead, giving adorable little pushes that do absolutely nothing other than spur him on.

"C'mon Angel, none of that," he chides, slotting his leg forward in place of his hand so that he can reach up and coax her hands away from fighting him. He envelops her wrists and gently presses them into the blankets at either side of her head. And Jesus fuck, her wrists are tiny. He could hold both of them in one of his, easily. "Relax, Baby. I'm not gonna hurt you. Just want to make you feel good."

She whimpers when his clothed thigh grinds up against her core, her eyes getting watery again. "Ooh ..."

"Yeah. It's okay," he soothes, giving her another kiss, this time a little deeper, guiding her a little more while she writhes against the pressure of his thigh. "There you go," he praises, pretending that he doesn't know that her writhing is still part struggle. "See? Doesn't that feel nice?"

"P-please," she says, "I-I can't."

"Sure you can." He releases one of her wrists and laces their fingers together. "Just relax. I've got you."

"But, I've never," she cries. "Please, I don't ... I've never ... "

"Oh, Sweetheart." Though he'd figured she was a virgin, hearing her whimper it up at him so sweetly has his cock throbbing against the seam of his joggers. He nuzzles her cheek and coos, "You trying to tell me you've never been with a man, is that it?" She keens in embarrassment and he shushes her. "Hey, that's okay. That's perfectly okay."

She sniffles and squirms against him. "Nnn. But I'm not ... I-I don't know how. And you're a ... a ..."

He chuckles. "I'm a what?"

"... a man," she whispers, face flaming.

"Yeah, I am. But that's good, Honey. Dont'cha think? Every girl needs a man to teach her things, at some point. And it's that time for you."

She mewls helplessly in her throat and shakes her head, not noticing that her crotch is still grinding up on him as she does. "But what if I ... what if I can't ..."

"Don't worry," he tuts. He thumbs fondly at the damp corner of an eye until she peeks up at him. "I told you, Petal: I want to see you bloom." She colors beautifully at that and ducks her chin, and Lloyd dips down to kiss her again, not letting up until he feels her body soften to it a little bit more. She seems to realize what her hips are doing and freezes, but he just grabs her and guides her back into the rhythm, groaning when she starts up again. "There you go. Good girl."

"Lloyd ..."

"Don't be afraid. We'll take it slow, okay? I'll guide you, show you everything you need to know."

She sniffles and shivers, still teary-eyed, but she isn't pushing against him anymore. "Will it hurt?" she whispers.

Lloyd's cock gives a mighty throb and his eyes darken. "No, Blossom," he promises. "It won't hurt. Cause I'm gonna open you up real gentle and slow, show you how it can feel so, so good, okay?" He nudges her nose with his when she doesn't answer. "Tell me you understand, Little flower."

"Mmm." She's so shy, so reluctant and sweet. It makes Lloyd's cock ache worse than anything. "... Okay," she eventually whispers.

He hums knowingly and gives her one last peck on the lips before pulling back to undress. He goes slow enough not to spook her, but fast enough that he isn't drawing it out needlessly and scaring her any worse. He's prepared to hold her down if she starts struggling again, but that's not how he wants this to go. He really does want to watch her unfurl.

Her eyes widen and she stares at him with parted lips as he strips out of his clothes and his body is revealed. She seems stuck in place; a deer in headlights, fascinated and terrified—even more so, once he gets his cock out.

He angles it downward and gives himself a slow, tight tug, watching her watch him, soaking up the look of a girl who's having her first real sexual experience. She bites her lip and stares at his hand on his cock, eyes flitting between the weeping tip and his fist, his heavy sac and powerful thighs and back up again. Her brow is pinched and she keeps dragging her lip through her teeth, and Lloyd's balls ache at how tender it is to get to see her appreciating a man's body for the first time; losing this one, innocent part of herself. The very first petal to fall.

Still, he feigns ignorance with a coaxing, "You ever been naked with a man like this, Baby?" He knows that she hasn't, knows what a frightened and turned on virgin looks like. The poor thing is trembling in her skin, completely lost for what to do. Her mouth works like she'll answer verbally, but when she can't seem to make that happen, she just shakes her head a little instead.

"Mmn. Mm mn."

He nods in understanding. "Okay, Blossom. That's just fine." He lies over her again, abandoning his cock and touching the bottom hem of her little top. Fittingly, there are tiny, pale pink rosebuds printed on it. "Can I take this off?" he asks, tracing up to her ribcage and back down from over the cotton. "Hm?" He holds her gaze as he starts gently edging up the fabric. Her belly quakes and she whines nervously, but she lifts her arms for him when it's time, and he praises her with another quiet 'good girl'.

She's wearing a little bralette under the top, with lace edges and a delicate material that provides absolutely no structure. It doesn't even quite conceal the soft shade of her nipples peeking through. Lloyd groans lowly and skims his hands over them. "Fuck, Petal." She inhales noticeably at that, and he shoots her a grin. "Aw, you like that one, huh?" he teases. "My little flower Petal." he ghosts his fingers over her breasts, back and forth, until her nipples are fully pebbled and poking against the thin fabric. "So pretty," he murmurs.

She squirms, flustered, arms pressing in against her sides like she's fighting the urge to cover herself. "They're not ..." she starts, biting her lip and not finishing what she was going to say as her face flames.

"What?" Lloyd coaxes.

"Just ... they're not ... very big."

He doesn't bother to school the displeasure from his face, his eyes darkening as he growls in disapproval. It works in that her eyes pop up to him, wide and questioning. He shakes his head and lets his weight come down more, holding her down with his body and palming greedily at her little breasts. "No," he agrees roughly, rubbing and groping her. "They're not very big, are they?" He leers and pushes the little excuse for a bra up over them. "Sweet little mountain peaks," he teases. She squeaks and tries to cover herself, but Lloyd isn't having it. He knocks her hands away with a warning look. "Don't do that. I want to see you. All of you." He helps her slip the bralette over her head, tossing it aside and returning to take both of those chubby little swells in his palms, cupping and pressing them together as much as they'll go. "Jesus," he curses softly.

They're small and underdeveloped, more mound than slope, jutting out from her chest in youthful defiance. They're so innocent, so cheeky and plump. The sight of them makes that base, destructive desire surface in him again; the urge he sometimes gets to devour and claim and take, to ruin something that's so pretty and good. Lloyd wonders if that's what makes him a sociopath. "Such pretty tits," he praises, then lowers his face to seal his mouth over one, puffy nipple.

She squeaks, frightened at first, but she must be sensitive there because all it takes is one or two firm sucks and she's loosing the most gorgeous, helpless moans. Her hips kick up and Lloyd hums around his mouthful. He gives her more pressure through his thigh, pleased when she grinds up with real purpose.

"Yeah," he encourages. He pulls away and glances up from the level of her chest to find her staring at him with that same, pinched expression, but sloe-eyed instead of wide-eyed, now. Cupping the swollen tip of her breast and swiping out with his tongue, he watches as it makes her face absolutely crumple in desire.

"Ohn, god."

"See?" he says, nodding at the next uncoordinated roll of her hips. "It's all gonna be okay. Just gotta let me show you."

As turned on as she is, she still sniffles, her eyes flitting over him, afraid of what she doesn't know, unable to conceal her nervous interest. He can see her trying to look down and catch sight of his cock again, and he rumbles in approval and lets it drag against her hip. "You want to touch it?" he teases, then chuckles when she clamps her eyes shut and shakes her head with a stubborn little, uh uh. "Aw, that's okay, Sweetheart. You're shy. That's to be expected."

"M'not."

He laughs at her and gives her breast one last, affectionate kiss. "Don't lie, Buttercup. It's fine. Lots of girls are like that, you know. Nervous about touching, unsure, need to feel good before they can really let go enough and explore the way they want to. So how about ... I help you relax first?"

"Mmn." She whines and refuses to look at him. "... How?"

He sinks down her body, hands dragging over her waist and hips, holding her down with a chiding little tut when she squirms a little too much. "Shh. There's a girl." He forces her legs open and shoulders his way in there, and that's what seems to get her to still. He kisses her belly with a pleased hum, right at the top edge of the panties, where there's a tiny silk bow and green peapod detail. Lloyd groans at the sight of it and gives it a little kiss. "Have you ever had an orgasm, Sweetpea?"

"What?!" She huffs in embarrassment and tosses her head. "Noo. I, I don’t do that.”

“Don’t do what?” he teases.

“That."

"No?" He smirks and looks down to where there's a telling wet patch on the gusset of her panties. "Hm. You mean you don't touch yourself?" As inexperienced as she is, he still finds it hard to believe that a girl could get to her age without exploring. He places a coaxing line of kisses down the inner crease of her thigh. "Not even a little bit? Maybe sometimes at night?”

“I … I don’t …”

“Don’t what?" He blows gently against her. "Don’t ever wake up from a dream with that tight and achy feeling deep inside your tummy?”

“Ohh.”

“Don’t let your hands start to creep down here? Don’t rub a little to try and make it feel better?"

She whines again and squirms, though it's not a fight to get away so much as it is pure nerves and embarrassment. She even seems a little mad at him for teasing her so much. It makes him chuckle and push her thighs wider so he can really get his face down there. "Oh, no. Don't pretend you haven't touched this little flower. You've closed your eyes and let your hands wander." He takes one of her hands in his and brings it down, ignoring her grunt of protest and guiding her to cup herself. Instantly, her fingers go to her clit, and Lloyd snickers. "Yes, you’ve touched. But you haven’t made yourself cum?"

“Please,” she begs. “It doesn't work. I just … I can’t.”

“Aw, you can’t?” He pouts along with her in mock sympathy. “Well what've you tried, babygirl? Maybe you're just not doin' it right."

"Nnngh." She bites her lip and stares down at their joined hands with flushed cheeks. "I don't ... I dunno, please."

He releases her hand and pushes it out of the way. "See, that's what you need a man like me for. Too desperate to figure out how to make that itch go away by yourself. Poor, confused little thing." She makes an angry sound in protest, but it's easily subdued by another firm grab and press of her hips down into the blankets. He snickers at her token outrage. "Shh. That's alright, Blossom, that's alright. Just one more first I get to give you. I’m looking forward to it." He gives the waistband of her panties another kiss. "Girls aren't like boys, you know. You don't just wake up one morning, pulling at your pud. It's more complicated than that. You have to learn what feels good, learn how to get yourself worked up." He looks up her body and offers her a tender smile. "That's why it's important to have a teacher, Sweetpea. Someone who knows these things, someone who can guide you."

She sniffles. "You can?"

"Sure I can. Here, let's try a few things, why don't we? See what sorts of touches you like." He wants to rip her panties off yesterday, but forces himself to remember the plan of taking things slow and savoring every moment. He's only going to get to do this once, after all. So he waits for her barely-there nod, and then grasps the top edge of the panties right over that obscene little fucking peapod, and gives a jostle, gently tug-tug-tugging the fabric up against her mound, pulling it just enough to get the seam angled over her clit.

She gasps at the sensation, a surprised little "oh!" escaping her lips.

Lloyd hums. “S'that feel good, Sweetheart?"

"Nnnh."

"Hmm. Yeah. You like a little gentle pressure like that? Are you a glancing touch kind of gal?" A few more exploratory, barely-there tugs and he can tell that she is, even though she clearly has no concept of what that means. He drops the panties and lets his fingers trail along the crease of her thigh, relishing every twitch and shiver he gets from her.

Somebody has waxed her bare beneath the fabric, and Lloyd sneers in distaste and purposefully doesn’t let himself think about why that is. "Oh, yes," he says when he sees that the wet spot on her panties has grown. "You like to be teased." She keens in protest, though she's thankfully past the point of outright denying the obvious. Lloyd rewards her with a press of his face against her crotch, inhaling and letting his nose dig into her clit from over the fabric. “Mmhm. Slickin’ right through your panties.”

"Oh!" Her hands suddenly appear in his hair, scrabbling, clutching. “Oh, oh no …”

He laughs a hot breath right against her cunt. "That's okay, Princess. That's good. I like that you’re sensitive.” He gives her one last kiss from over the underwear and then curls his fingers into the waistband. “Wanna take these off?"

"Nnoo," she moans, while doing absolutely nothing to stop him as he pulls them off her.

He eases them down her legs, gently shushing and praising her for her obedience when she lets him settle his shoulders back in between her legs after tossing the panties aside.

"Such a good girl," he murmurs, hooking one hand under her thigh to push and make room, the other sliding over her soft belly. He tugs her closer to his face, inhaling her scent and groaning at finally getting to see her.

One good thing about a bare pussy: there’s no hiding the state of it.

"Blossom," he breathes. "Look at you. You're soaked."

She is. The delicate petals of her sex are already spread and slicked, puffy and swollen with arousal. He groans and lets his tongue dart out for a quick taste, reveling in the sweet tang of her, the way that she gasps and her belly tenses underneath his hand. She’s trembling, squirming, trying so hard not to hump up against his face, not to make noise even though it’s obviously what she wants to do. “It’s okay,” he tells her, dipping down for another long lick through her folds, nudging her clit with his nose, his mustache.

“Ohn!” she cries, but the sound cuts off into a desperate yelp at the end as she tries to silence herself. "Nnnh!"

He makes an admonishing grunt where he’s got his face buried against her. “Hey,” he snaps, when he glances up and sees her fingers in her mouth. He knocks her hand away. “Quit it.”

“I’m not! I’m—”

He hauls her in harshly and sucks her clit into his mouth until it elicits the squeal he was looking for, a tortured little ‘ognfuck!’ that comes from deep in her belly. He pops off with a satisfied growl. “There. Like that. That’s better.” He softens his tone when she whimpers and kisses the hood of her clit. “It’s okay to enjoy it, Petal. I know it feels good. So stop trying to hold it in, okay? You gotta let me hear you.”

“Please,” she whispers, eyes shining down at him. Fuck, the tears are back. “Please, please,”

“Please what, Princess?”

“Nnn! I – I need …”

Aaand her voice is back to warbling and overwhelmed, prompting Lloyd to grind his dick against the mattress just for a little fucking relief. This girl is sweet in every fucking way imaginable, and now she’s trembling and welling up with tears again, just the way he loves to see. Only this time it’s not in fear. She’s finally losing control of herself enough to let go and open up—unfurling for him, just like the flower he knew she was.

“Tell me, Petal,” he murmurs, tickling her with his mustache again. “C’mon. Tell me. Tell me what you need to cum. Do you even know?”

“Please, nngh, please …”

He nuzzles her clit and laps languorously at her drenched slit, over and over, proactively tightening his hold on her hips so that he doesn’t get his nose broken when she inevitably starts bucking. “Ohn … god!”

“Mmm hmph,” he hums, having ventured out to start giving her jabs with his tongue, forcing the muscle into her quivering little gash, over and over, teaching her what a good tongue fucking really feels like. “Mmm, mmmph.”

“Oh, please, ohn!” Her hands clamor through his hair, messing it up as she sobs and jerks, trying to get more of his tongue in her cunt. Lloyd can’t help laughing a little bit over it, breathless and turned on by how easy she is. He goes back to suckling on her clit for a moment or two, before easing off and peering up her heaving belly with a smug grin. “So sensitive,” he coos, holding her down when she thrashes in embarrassment. “Stop, stop,” he chides, laughing, climbing back up her body and pinning her beneath his full weight.

Her legs spread for him without conscious thought, welcoming him in even as she’s still making her angry little huffs and puffs for being teased. He kisses her, amused, forcing his tongue inside to give her a taste of her own arousal. “And that was just my mouth,” he purrs, bringing a hand up to grope at one of those fat little breasts. “Was barely even inside you. Just think about what it’ll feel like with my fingers, my cock. You want that?”

She cries out when he plucks her nipple. She shakes her head. “Nnn.”

“What? 'Nnn'? S’that s’posed to be a no?”

“Nnnh. Yes.”

He laughs. “Aw, Cupcake. I already told you I’m gonna treat you real nice, make you feel good. Now why you gotta lie to me?” He lets his hand slip down between them, cupping her between her legs. “Does this feel like a no? Hmm?” She whimpers and he smiles and shakes his head. “No, it doesn’t, does it? Mm mn.”

She’s mewling and grinding up against the pressure of his hand despite her stupid little protests, so he hums and slips a finger down through her folds, lets the tip of it tease at her entrance. Fuck, she’s wet. “Never had anything in here?” he asks, already knowing the answer before she gives another pathetic whimper and shakes her head.

“Just … just tampons.”

“Tampons, huh?” He dips the tip of his finger, in and out, gut clenching as he feels it mouthing at him, feels all that slick. “When’s the last time you bled?” he asks. He’ll grab a condom if he needs to, but he’d rather not need to. “Hm? Come on now, don’t lie to me.”

She won’t meet his eyes, but after enough coaxing she admits that she had her period just a day ago. Lloyd nods, glad that he doesn’t have to worry about protection. Not that it isn’t fun to fantasize about knocking such a sweet little thing up, but that’s not the itch he’s scratching right now. It'll be a treat just getting to watch her bloat with his seed, before that creampie slides right back out. “Okay, then, Sweetheart,” he murmurs, finger still teasing softly right at the edge of her entrance. “I want you to look at me, girl. Want you to look right in my eyes, and relax for it.” He brushes his lips across hers. “I promise this isn’t gonna hurt.”

He eases his finger in, and the tiny little ‘oh’ and relieved sigh she gives up as he does it, is everything. Her wide eyes meet his, blinking. “Lloyd.”

“Yeah.”

“I … I …”

“Relax, Blossom.” Lloyd’s got big fingers, and she’s clamped down tight as fuck from her nerves, but she’s so fucking wet that it doesn’t even matter, his finger slipping in past the knuckle until it’s all the way seated. Her searing heat envelops him and presses onto his palm, bringing that destructive, sexual urge bubbling right back up to the surface of his mind.

She’s the purest thing he’s ever touched, this soft, tearful, quivering creature in his hands. He’s never felt such lust and violence at the same time. He desperately needs to ruin her … and yet somehow, also desperately, he needs to make sure he doesn’t hurt her.

A single, overwhelmed tear breaks from her eye and tracks down her temple, disappearing into her hair. Lloyd’s mouth all but waters at the sight of it, but she doesn’t seem to notice it, too preoccupied with the feeling of him inside of her body. She’s teetering right on the precipice between terrified and fascinated as she learns this new touch, and Lloyd could bust a nut just watching it.

“Good girl,” he praises, letting his palm cup her sex as he keeps his finger buried and starts to give her gentle, gentle pulses. “See? Didn’t I tell you?”

To his utter delight, she exhales shakily and nods. “Yeah,” she whispers, biting her lip and looking down her own body to where he’s touching her. “Yeah. I … it's ... you’re …" Her eyes slam shut as his finger curls. "Oh god.”

“You’re okay. Look at me.” He rocks his hand more, giving her pressure through the heel of his hand and dragging over that soft spot inside. "Look at me, Petal."

It takes her a moment, but she manages, peeking up at him with her brow pinched and moaning softly, her hips juddering up into it.

Lloyd smiles, lines up another finger, and soaks up her expression as he plucks off that next petal.

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cainnleacghlovers · 2 years ago

Text

Couch Chats - MM

Pairing: Mason Mount x Fem!Reader

Summary: Y/N is bored. Really bored, and what better way to entertain yourself than to tell your boyfriend now he annoys you.

Sitting on the couch, Mason’s eyes glued to whatever show was on. Last time you checked it was Spongebob, now it was… nope, it’s still Spongebob.

Leaning against his chest, his arms tightly secured around your waist, you sign into his chest, hoping he’d notice, and give you some much needed attention.

But instead, Mason repeats your sigh, this time even louder. Oh, so that’s how we’re playing.

You sigh again, holding your breath slightly before releasing it very loudly. You move slightly as your head his chest vibrate under you from the slight laugh that escaped his mouth. You feel his chest pull in, and pull back out as he signs again. Even louder than you again.

The two of you, like children, compete in a silent competition over who who can sigh the loudest. As you go to sigh again, Mason moved from under you, and hovers above you and begins to tickle under your arms. The sudden movement shocked you, and instead of sighing, you bald screamed, half spat in his face.

“Did you just spit on me?!” Mason shrieked, his hands moving to attack your sides. Wiggling underneath him, you couldn’t stop giggling as the man (or boy) in front of you began to shower your face with feather like kisses. Showing every inch of your skin love.

So the sighing worked then. Hmm. Noted.

“I didn’t spit, I just… slightly released liquid from my mouth.” You replied, not really making any sense. Your breath was short from your laughs as Mason still pressed kisses to your skin, this time your neck.

“Slightly released liquid my ass. You spat.” He teased, as his hands found your hips, and he stared into your eyes. His warm brown eyes, much like honey in the winter sun.

“I didn’t spit!” You argued. You wouldn’t let him win this.

“And i’m not the best footballer like, ever.” He imitated an American accent. You knew he was mocking the cringe American shows you found yourself watching. Cringe but so entertaining.

“Modesty is the best policy.” You say, tapping his shoulder slightly, as your arms wrap around his neck, hands slightly tugging the ends of his hair.

“It’s honesty is the the best policy.” He laughs, his head nuzzling into your neck as you feel his warm breath dance across your skin.

“Same difference.”

“Sure. Whatever you say.” He collapses onto you, and his eyes find the tv again.

Why is a yellow sponge more entertaining than you?

How could you get his attention again? Hmm.

You remember on tiktok, you seen a trend of couples saying their ‘icks’ about each other.

If you were gonna be annoying, you might as well tell him how he was annoying. Kill two birds with one stone, you know?

“The thought of you holding an umbrella makes me sick.” You say randomly, catching his attention, as his head perks up to look at you. His face twisting in amusement.

“Sorry let me just got drenched then.” He replied.

“It actually makes me shiver.”. You mock shiver to prove your point as he laughs lightly.

You think for a minute, before a grin appears on your lips.

“Seeing your ass crack freaks me out. I forget you aren’t like a barbie and just are like? Smooth down there.” You say, Mason not being able to contain his laughter.

“What’s wrong with my ass crack?” He manages to get out, wiping a tear from his eye.

“Seeing your bare bum with always make me laugh.” You reply, giggling softly at the thought of it.

“Well in that case…” He got up, and stood in front of you, spinning around as he wiggled his eyebrows at you.

“Mason Mount don’t you dare!” You shriek, covering your eyes, scared he was actually going to pull his shorts down.

“Just playing with you baby.” He said, as he picked the tv remote off of the floor, and turned the tv off.

One point Y/N, zero points Spongebob. Take that you yellow thingy.

Mason flopped back on the sofa, pulling you into his lap.

“Well, how else do I annoy you then darling hmm?” He teased, the stubble of his beard slightly scratching your cheek as you leaned into him.

“Your toes.” You giggle, as his mouth falls open in shock.

“What’s wrong with them?” He says, his hand on his heart, as he pretends to be offended.

“Mason have you seen them?” You giggle as you notion towards his feet. Thankfully, he’s wearing socks.

“Some people pay for this you know.” He huffs, as his hands trace circles on your back.

“I’d pay to not see photos of them.” You laugh, and he pats your thigh lightly.

“Oh! I’m pissing myself thinking of this one.” His face breaks into a smile, as he secretly loves the little things you notice about him.

“You confidently sing the words and then get the lyrics wrong.” You fake gag, and he pushes you away from him. Seconds later, pulling you right back into his chest.

“There’s like a hundred million songs and like infinity amount of words, how on earth am I supposed to remember them all. I don’t even remember what I had for breakfast this morning.”

His words were true enough, but you had to counter them.

“Well fake it till you make it I guess.” He laughs before nuzzling your head into his chest.

A comfortable silence falls between the both of you, and the only thing that can be heard is the rising of Mason’s chest, as his breathing slows, along with the random ass crow that kept, what’s the word? Crowing?

“Oh, and watching Spongebob.” He laughs. You could listen to his laughter for ages. You loved when he just laughed. Not forced for any camera or interview. Just laughed because he wanted too. It was the most amazing sound on earth, well next to all of Taylor Swifts albums.

“Spongebob will go down in history.” He replies, grabbing the remote as the two of you prepared to melt into the couch, in each others arms, watching a talking sponge.

And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

A short drabble because I have no inspiration at all. Anyways, thank you for reading <3

#mason mount #mason mount x y/n #mason mount fluff #mason mount smut #mason mount imagine #mason mount x reader #footballer imagine #footballer x you #footballer

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fallingforfelix · 6 months ago

Text

❛❛sex with felix❞

당신의 사랑은 매일 밝게 빛나는 햇빛입니다

your love is the sunshine that brightens every day

.° ༘🌙⋆🍯₊˚ෆ

synopsis: how i imagine felix in bed

pairing: felix x fem!reader/gn!reader

content: 18+/explicit (MDNI pls!!), borderline smut, non idol au ig, second person pov but no use of ‘y/n’ cuz that shit gives me the ick, reader is described as female in some parts but is gn for the rest

warnings: whiny!felix, whiny kink, praise, degradation, after care, safe words, consent, protection, skirt kink, boob kink, cowgirl, public sex, fantasising, blowjob (m and f receiving), pussydrunk!felix, ab riding, showoff!felix, kissing, making out, hickeys, insecure!reader??, femboy!felix, foreplay, finger fucking, tease!felix, physical touch (cuddles), breeding threats, switch!felix. lmk if i missed anything!!

word count: 800

note: this ff is completely fictional, and based entirely off of my imagination. i feel like this is just all my kinks/preferences combined and a mix of my favourite felix fics. please feel free to share your ideas and opinions on ‘sex with felix’!! alsooo HAPPY STAY WEEK!!

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

i feel like he’d be so whiny in bed

or maybe that’s just my whiny kink

but he’d be so easy to please

ofc you don’t mind though

it just turns you on even more

would definitely shower you with praises

“shit. when did you get so good, princess?”

“i just can’t get enough of you. i need to taste you.”

”fu—uck. you’re so tight babydoll, my cock is practically choking right now.”

but would also degrade you

“you’re such a fucking slut for me, you know that?”

“don’t. don’t fucking cum. wait for me.”

“looks like i’m gonna have to ruin this pretty cunt of yours.”

cuz he knows it gets you dripping

after care, safe words, consent ofc

and protection

(unless you're on birth control cuz, let’s be honest, condoms are a nuisance)

that’s just so felix coded

there’s no way he doesn’t do it

i’ve been possessed by the idea that

felix would either have a skirt kink

or he’d be wearing the skirt

and i just know he’s a boob man

he’d fuck you in cowgirl style

just to see them bounce

he’d encourage you to go braless

even better if you’re wearing a tight white shirt

just to see your nipples poking through

if you went to the beach in your bikini he wouldn’t be able to control himself

he’d check his pulse

and resist the urge to bend you over and fuck you in front of everyone

i don’t think he’d be a fan of public sex though

it would embarrass him way too much

but he’d fantasise about you whilst he’s gaming

imagining you giving him head under the table

or he’d dream about bake sessions with you

where he’d coat you in icing and lick it off

his tongue game is no joke

he’s a rapper after all

143% pussy drunk

his mouth is as good as his cock

i feel like he’d be such a show off during sex

like flexing his abs

or his biceps

also felix has muscles hello!?!?

anyways

he would never tell you this but

he’d love to see you ride his abs

(lwk feel inspired to make a felix drabble on that lol)

i just know he’d cum in his boxers the minute your slick pussy comes in contact with his abs

he’d love to see you getting off to his abs

that’s how proud he is of them

also felix and kissing, making out, and hickeys are like a match made in heaven

every sex session would come after a make out session

he’d kiss you on the lips whilst pounding deep inside of you

would kiss your inner thighs before eating you out

and then he’d place kisses on your cunt

he owns the word ‘hickeys’

he’d mark you everywhere

especially in the places that he knows you’re insecure of

cuz that’s so felix core

he’d even help you cover them up afterwards

femboy felix things..

but he’d love it even more if you were the one leaving those deep, rosy bruises

he wouldn’t care where

on his abs?? yes or yes!!

but you know the spot where he’s most sensitive

his adam’s apple.

boy he’d be so whiny

even if your lips just gently brushed against it

(fuck yeah, i’m making a felix drabble on this one, cuz i can’t be the only one madly in love with his adam’s apple)

foreplay, foreplay, foreplay.

he’d be kissing you, eating you out, and fingering you

before fucking ruining your cunt

he’s a huge tease

he’d go so dreadfully slowly

cuz it makes him throb hearing you beg the way you do

deffo the most gentlest guy ever though

until you tell him to fill you up

then it’s game over for you

we all know physicality is felix’s love language

he’d be so touchy and cuddly

even if it’s nothing sexual in the beginning

(it ends up with felix threatening to fill you up with his babies)

his voice>>

it would drop like 808 octaves

he’d be fighting the red lights intro just to talk to you during sex

his voice would be so raspy and low that you’d be crumbling and wet within nanoseconds

sub felix is literally the most rightfully and respectfully hot human being in this universe

i can’t be the only one imagining how dazed and blissed he’d look after you’re finished dominating him

he’d look so inevitably fucking gorgeous

i feel like felix would be a switch between dom and sub

i could honestly see him as both with no preference

all ik is that he’d 127% pin you down if you called him cute

or he’d become a blushing mess if you called him hot

yes, i’ve made reader fem overall but i feel like he wouldn’t gaf about who he’s sleeping with honestly

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

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blkkizzat · 4 months ago

Note

It's sheet changing day and is this adulthood? Being excited by getting to change your sheets? Thinking of the jjk men sleeping in your bed for a week straight and finding out your little cleaning quirks.

Gojo, when he finds out you do your dishes by hand instead of using the dishwasher cause you don't trust it. At first he's exasperated cause why are you over there cleaning when you could be in his arms. Then he kinda likes it and starts doing the dishes with you cause he's needy and likes being in your space.

Geto, when he finds out you clean your own tub instead of hiring a maid. You make more than enough to hire one at least once a week. Why do something so demeaning. But he gets to stare at your ass while you do it. So who is he to complain?

Nanami finding out you change your sheets every 2-3 days. He's confused cause didn't you just change your sheets on Monday? It's only Wednesday. And you're so diligent about it. He thinks at first it's him. That you're uncomfortable sharing your space but he soon learns you just like the feeling of clean sheets fresh after a shower. Especially on days where you shave.

- 🧠

🧠 nonnyyyyy seeing u is always a treat babe 🥹🥹

EDUIHFIAHDSFKUHSD omg the situation with gojo is definitely me because the dishwasher is to SANITIZE not to clean!!!!! it irks the essence of my soul when food clumps be left on plates and shit going in there because theres always specs of it still on. LOL i was about to say if this man isnt doing dishes right next to me theres going to be problems djhkskfhds.

Geto, LOL nah I'm with him I hate bathroom cleaning so I'd definitely hire a maid (tbh id get one now but i also feel its a waste of money when i could just stop being lazy fdhfkdjhfdsj) but if he was paying for it then FUCK YESSS! LOL I'll bend over for him in the bedroom while the maid cleans the tub fjhdksbfjskhfas.

ooh the Nanami one, ideally I'd like to do this too at least twice a week but it ends up being a week because im lazy djkhsfkjfhsd.

hmmm lemme seee....

Toji would definitely have trouble with the no outside shoes on in the house. Even though its common in Japan not to bring outside shoes into the house (every entrance to a home/apt usually having some enclave/foyer to put them) since he'd live alone after his wife he just kinda stopped caring and walked around inside with them, not kicking them off until he was on the sofa. LMFAO you definitely would have to nag him a few times before it sunk in. And he'd NEVER tell you but he thinks the fuzzy matching slippers you for the both of you are super cute.

True form Sukuna doesn't wear shoes so you wouldn't have to worry about him not wearing them in the house but thats the thing, he ain't wearing slippers neither. you cringe when your plush cream moroccan rug is quickly turned a greyish brown from the grime on his feet. his answer to that though is to destroy it entirely saying you wont need the rug nor your silly little apartment because its time for you to move into his palace. in fact, he doesnt even tell you this, he just destroys it and snatches you away... you'd figure it out eventually lol.

Choso is an angel. Yet he has alot of trouble with the no outside clothes on the bed rule. When he gets home late from fighting curses he wants nothing more than to dive into bed with you. But ick! He needs to remove his clothes and take a bath first. You help him out by making sure there is always one hot and ready for when he gets home. And he is so eager to peel off all his clothes and relax with you in the tub. (lol fun fact i didnt know until i studied abroad there that since the japanese technically wash with soap etc, before they get into the bath and the bath is for soaking, that in lots of homes they typically dont dump the bath water until after a few uses. this also was a water conservation tactic back from wwii that just stuck. so because of that most of their bathtubs have a warming feature. so it really would be easy to keep a bath warm for someone until they got home. also omg imagine just being able to sit in there forever too cause the tub keeps the water warm djhksdsdjvsd, i miss those japanese tubs mannnn)

xoxo!

#🧠 anon #ೃ༝💌⁀➷ 𝓀𝒾𝓏𝓏𝒶𝓉мαιℓ #ೃ💌⁀➷𝓀𝒾𝓏𝓏𝒶𝓉αησηѕ #˚⊱🍪 𝒶𝓃𝑜𝓃𝒸𝑜𝑜𝓀𝒾𝑒𝓈🤤⊰˚#jjk headcanons #choso kamo #sukuna #gojo satoru #geto suguru #toji fushiguro #jujutsu kaisen #jjk drabbles

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kyliesnaked · 3 months ago

Text

On Being Her Good Boy

Locked and submissive was my state for the past few days. I locked myself up as punishment for pleasuring myself without Her permission. I didn’t think to ask. I was in the shower getting ready for work and it just happened, much like it’s happened so many times before. It’s one of the primary reasons why I wanted to be locked up in the first place. I spend far too much time, in my opinion, touching myself. I can’t be the good boy she needs me to be if I have no desire to do anything beyond get myself off. But I digress.

She had to work yesterday and I took the time I had to clean the house up. I don’t mind doing the home chores as much when I’m locked. It feeds the mind. I told her via text all that I had done and in my last message I said jokingly: Now tell me I’m a good boy

Her response: Yes yes you are a good boy!

My brain melted. I melted, and subby hubby was feeling good.

Fast forward to last night, we are cuddling in bed (I had been trying to sext her while she was away, saying things like soft kisses between her thighs.) We are going about our thing, hot and involved, she’s a sucker for neck kisses. She eventually finds the cage and I feel the mood shift. I need to find a way to express my needs to her before we are in the bedroom, but she rolled with it. I got out the massage oils for her chest and her buzzy toy, then disaster struck.

I’m on top of her in strap riding position, her toy is buzzing away inside her and I can feel that on top of the small thrusts into me she’s doing, when her toy dies! My head is thinking that I would love to be filled by her while she’s filled by her toy when there’s no more toy action going on. I can tell she’s crestfallen. She was close and the night was suddenly almost ruined. But a good boy does not let his Goddess go unfulfilled. The toy goes away, and my fingers and tongue come out to play. I can honestly say that giving oral was never something I liked doing. Partly because of the ick factor that my man brain couldn’t get around, the other because I got nothing out of it. I used to be so selfish. It’s amazing what a little bit of plastic and a lock will do to change a boy.

I get to work, eagerly giving her the finale that she wanted to bad. Her hands are on my head, pushing and directing, and it wasn’t long before she was clamping her thighs around my head in orgasm. She pulled me up to her chest so I could hear how fast her heart was going and she murmurs to me:

“Such a good boy. You’re such a good boy.”

I’m jello in her hands.

“Does my good boy want his treat now?”

She wants the cage off. She hasn't really touched it yet. I think in some way it still is foreign to her. But I gave her the keys. She can’t see to take it off but she cups me and I let out the subbiest of moans. This is what I’ve always wanted. Her touches on my denied flesh is almost too much. Part of me doesn’t want to take it off so I can enjoy the torment of being denied. The other part of me is stupid horny. That’s my fault for scrolling my feed a few times an hour here. I unlock myself and she pulls half of it off me. I work the ring off and bring myself to her. She lets me in and I’ve never felt something so amazing. We’ve been together for a long time and each time I’m denied like this, she feels like the first time.

I take my time, enjoying her like she’s been enjoying me when the eventually inevitability happens. But this time, like a good boy, I ask for permission.

“Can I cum? Pleasepleaseplease??”

“You may cum, my good boy.”

Before, I would have just let it happen, but it didn’t until she said “good boy”. I erupt in one of the best orgasms I’ve ever had, collapsing on her. I don’t know yet if she notices that my orgasms have been more intense since I got the cage or that I’m lasting longer, but each time is super intense. She rubs my head and whispers, “Good boy. Good boy.”

Perfect. It was nearly perfect. If there was one thing I would want to hear from her it would be, “Be a good boy and go back into the cage.”

Anything for you Goddess. Anything for you. And maybe one day that will happen. For now, I’m her happy boy. Her Good Boy.

#humiliated sissy #subby boys #sissy caged #humiliation sissy #chasity #chastikey #domme mommy #good boy #subby men #feeling subby #fem domme

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miserymerci · 1 year ago

Text

<- Day 1: Snow Day 3: Entertain ->

Fluffy February Day 2: Eavesdrop - The Known, The Unknown, The Please Don’t Tell a Soul

@fluffyfebruary

Fandom: Lego Monkie Kid

Characters: MK and Sun Wukong

(Father-son relationship, comfort, attempt at humor)

Summary: Set sometime around S1 E7 (Impossible Delivery), MK finally begins training with Monkey King. The monkeys of Flower Fruit Mountain have a lot to say about their king, however, and MK has a sneaking suspicion that he’s not supposed to know any of it.

“… and for the rest of that month, he couldn’t shake off any of the lice!”

MK was smacked by a tail and bulldozed into the rocks below.

“Oops– didn’t mean to hit you that hard. You alright?”

“Um,” said MK, slouched down in between two rocks that might have been one just a second ago, “yeah. I think so.”

Monkey King smiled, took his hand, and hoisted him up to his feet.

“Shake it off! Steady, now.”

“Guh,” said MK, intelligently. He swayed for a moment. “ Sorry .”

“Aw, it’s all right bud. I have quite the battle prowess, so nothing to be ashamed of.”

MK was pretty sure he would have held it out for at least another ten seconds, but he had just gotten distracted by that voice, was all. He rubbed his ears and looked around.

“–ellooo? Helloooo ?”

“Oh! Sorry, I… wasn’t listening.”

“I know ,” said Monkey King, watching him with a dry expression. “It’s kind of a problem.”

“What is?”

“The listening! You drive me crazy, kid. Let’s take a break.”

MK watched Monkey King kick up his cloud out of nowhere ( he wanted to be able to do that) and lay back on it.

“Monkey King– um, Mister Monkey King Sir ? There’s really no need to tab out for a break. I’m feeling great and pumped up, actually! Could go another round or two. Throw a few punches? Smack a few trees?”

“That’s great,” said Monkey King, not opening his eyes. “But don’t smack the trees. They’ve got monkeys on them.”

MK blinked. He turned over to the closest tree, and for the first time since that training session, he spotted little monkeys watching them from the foliage.

He waved. The baby monkeys squealed and scampered off into their parents’ laps.

“You still want to do things? Go pick some fruit or something,” said Monkey King, startling MK. “For training.”

“Right! Like weights! Building my biceps ,” said MK, as if he was catching on. He wasn’t, really.

“Exactly like that. Now go grab a basket. I’m replenishing my energy .”

Monkey King tilted his head back further, and MK was on his own.

“He hadn’t showered in weeks .”

“ Ick ! And what then, mama?”

MK glanced back at the tree of monkeys, but they were silent as can be. Some even looked at him funny.

Maybe he wasn’t quite on his own.

MK picked out a piece of his hair and blew it into a basket.

“He smelled like a rotten egg! The crows were trying to peck his eyes out, so we had to shove him into the waterfall.”

“Who said that?!” MK snapped, glaring.

“Err,” said Monkey King. “I didn’t say anything. You sure I didn’t hit you too hard?”

“No!”

Monkey King stared at him.

“Oh– I mean– no , you didn’t hit me too hard. I’m young and spry,” said MK, lifting up the basket as if it were some kind of example.

“I’m… sure you are?”

“And I’m going to pick some fruits now.”

“That’s nice, kid.”

“Everything’ll be alright.”

“Knock on wood.”

Monkey King continued staring at MK even as he turned his back and marched away.

“It’s alright, MK. Chill out. S’just a voice. You hear voices all the time in your head. Sometimes they come out of your mouth, sometimes they come out of other people’s mouths. It’s whatever.”

MK reached for the next branch and heaved himself up into a nook between the tree’s bark.

“You know what’s not ‘whatever’? You! Losing your cool to Monkey King like that. Ugh, embarrassing. Don’t be so overbearing. I mean– ancient mystic monkeys need their rest too, right? Err, or maybe dodging responsibilities. He did a lot of that in the stories. Oh, wow, am I a responsibility? Probably.”

He glared at an apricot that was probably laughing at him and plucked its smug face off of its stem. The apricot tossed and turned in his palms. Once he was sure it was worm-free, he dropped it into his empty basket.

“I don’t have to be a responsibility. I’m a big boy. I can handle myself– don’t need to be saved– I mean, being saved is for– well, 'responsibilities'. This successor is self-maintained!”

MK nodded to himself. He looked over the leaves in search of gold, and one apricot offered itself right in front of his face.

“Oh, thanks little apricot,” said MK, taking it.

Apricots had a lot of things: skin, fleshy insides, a seed. Apricots, however, did not have hands to offer themselves with. They also didn’t have eyes, according to everyone else. But MK had been passionately advocating otherwise.

Two monkeys blinked at him.

“You’re not an apricot,” said MK.

“You talk a lot,” said the smaller monkey.

MK squealed and fell out of the tree.

‘THUNK!’

“Oh, look, Child– now you’ve done it!” said a different voice.

“Sorry, Mama…”

Two blurbs blurred in and out of MK’s vision, like the little spots of color MK could never rub out of his eyes.

MK blinked.

“Talking monkeys,” he said, staring at the sky.

The little monkey snorted. “What would you be, then– oW! Mama .”

“Are you okay ? Prince? Hello ?”

One hand waved over MK’s face, small and fuzzy, and MK decided that yeah, no. This was just another mystic monkey thing that he’d have to accept.

“Um, yeah–,” said MK, rubbing his head. He needed literally all of his wits right now. “I’ve survived worse falls– uh, have you always been able to talk?”

“Yes,” said Mama, “but we’re not often understood by humans .”

“Good to know,” said MK, even though he wasn’t really sure if it was.

Mama grabbed the fruit basket with two little hands and handed it over. MK fought the urge to laugh (a tiny monkey picking up a basket– adorable) and thanked her.

“…So were you two the monkeys talking about Monkey King’s lice earlier?”

Child snickered.

“No,” said Child after Mama glared at her, “no, the troop just loves their stories, is all. And their ‘gossip’. Drives the King crazy, but that’s the best part.”

“Monkey King can hear you guys too?”

Mama and Child stared at him with their blank, beady eyes.

“ Alright I get it,” said MK with a wince. “Oh– but if Monkey King can hear monkeys talk, and I can hear monkeys talk… oh… oh! This is so cool ! We’re like… so in sync !”

Child hopped back from where MK was kicking his legs. She glared.

“Of course you’re in sync. You’re the Prince, dummy,” said Child.

MK snorted. “Thanks, but I’m a delivery boy who just-so-happened to pick up an ancient staff weighing roughly seventeen thousand nine hundred sixty-five pounds. HUP!” He flipped up to his feet and stretched.

“What are you even talking about,” said Mama.

“Do you have any other stories about Monkey King?” MK asked. “Well, I already know all the stories, but just in case there’s more I don’t know. Which is unlikely. I’m like… the number one Monkey King fanboy. And you guys are talking monkeys, which is so cool. I– oh.”

The two monkeys were gone.

“Soap is a lovely human invention, though, and Monkey King tried to make his own floral blend. Somehow, he made a balding formula, and his tail wouldn’t grow any fur for weeks.”

Monkey King took the end of the Staff and swung MK to the ground.

“ Very nice! But you gotta keep your eyes on me, bud. Doesn’t do any good if you’re not paying attention to the enemy.”

“That’s unfair. You don’t always look at me ,” said MK, taking Monkey King’s offered hand.

“Okay, but you’re a beginner . I’ve been in this game a lot longer than you have. I’m hyperaware ,” said Monkey King, waving his palms around.

“Doesn’t sound very fun.”

“It was like a huge naked worm,” said a distant voice.

“Uhhh, no. No, it’s not really,” said Monkey King to MK, not looking away from him. “But it’s for the greater good, and by greater good I mean for good. The hero stuff.”

“I like hero stuff,” said MK.

“Exactly. So if you wanna be a hero, you have to be hyperaware. That’s my point. You gotta get used to being conscious of everything that’s going on around you, even if it’s difficult.”

“I mean… it looked like a serious legless centipede… if you had taken a centipede but it didn’t have any legs, that’s probably what Monkey King’s tail would have looked like,” someone said distantly.

They stared at each other.

“I’m not sure I’ll be able to do that,” said MK, determined to at least look like he was serious.

“ Hey , what did we say about confidence?”

“Ugghh. I will be able to do it.”

“…and then the shark said, ‘immortal this !’ and bit him in the nose.”

MK knocked into a branch.

“He was so sure he wasn’t allergic to pineapples, even though he got all puffy the last time he had one. We didn’t believe him, so he decided to eat another one…”

MK faceplanted into dirt.

“–but we all know what really happened to the banana.”

MK tripped over Monkey King’s foot.

“…really, he sees the Prince as his own.”

Monkey King pulled MK down and catapulted him into the sea.

The water roared and sizzed in MK’s ears, a mighty sound that left him chilled to the bone. MK probably should have thought about how much it had hurt, but instead, he found himself thinking: 'uhh, excuse me?'

Just as quickly, the bubbles whooshed away, and he was being held upside down by his frazzled mentor.

“Sorry. I don’t know why I did that,” said Monkey King with a smile that looked more like a wince. He righted MK carefully. “Um, you okay kid?”

“I guess so,” said MK, teeth chattering. The water dripped down his soppy clothes.

“I think I have a towel somewhere– training officially on hold. Come on.”

The mountain whispered to each other; slivers of secrets that weren’t really secrets at all. Once, MK hadn’t been able to hear them. Now that he could – well, he didn’t know– but Monkey King was tense, so maybe he should be too.

“You really think so?” the mountain said as they walked.

“Of course. Look at them. Would be silly to assume otherwise,” the mountain replied.

“Look at the pride.”

“Awh, the glow .”

“The denial.”

MK sniffled, hugging himself tighter. “Uh,” he said, ignoring the way his teeth clattered, “are you sure you have a towel?”

“I’m sure I do. I mean– lots of old whatchamacallits at the house. Don’t even know what’s in there. Probably a few towels,” said Monkey King.

“It’s lucky that stink isn’t a family trait,” said the mountain.

Monkey King’s nose twitched.

“Are you mad?” MK asked.

“Huh? At what, kid?”

“Uh– uh, I dunno. Just have a hunch,” he said as the monkeys giggled over Monkey King’s cute wittle baby teeth, and if MK had had them too.

“Nah,” said Monkey King, face warming up, “not mad. And not mad at you.”

MK’s mouth opened, then clicked closed.

“Oh… are you embarrassed?”

“Embarrassed!?” sputtered Monkey King. He didn’t turn back to look at MK, but his hand went up to make useless spinny gestures in the air. “The King of Monkeys– The Great Sage Equal to Heaven! That’s who I am! I’m not– hA ! I don’t get– hugh– embarrassed. The nerve of you, bud. All I did was throw you into the sea a little too hard.”

The mountain fell quiet. The waterfall roared, the leaves rustled, and back down on the shore, the waves lapped with a gentle ‘fshh…’ .

“He would make a wonderful mentor…”

MK and Monkey King pushed through into the waterfall into the cave behind. It was cold, wet, and MK wasn’t sure if he could feel his nose anymore– but he couldn’t stop his dumb smile.

Monkey King went ahead.

“ ‘He would make a wonderful mentor’ ,” Monkey King was grumbling to himself as he dug through a pile. “I am a ‘wonderful mentor ’. I’m mentor-ing! What’s the definition of mentoring? I’m already doing that. All that and more, practically.”

Right. All that and more. MK blinked, opened his mouth, and then decided that he wasn’t sure what he would even say.

‘I know you’re my mentor but it feels a little more personal than that– like a friend maybe? Like, if your friend was way older than you were and gave you lots of life advice and made sure you were prepared and ready for whatever would be thrown at you? And then at the end of the day that friend would pat you on the back, tell you were doing great, and then teach you how to throw a ball? Well, more like an ancient Staff than a ball.’

“Here,” said Monkey King as MK stood there stupidly (with his equally-stupid smile), “It’s more of a hand towel, but if we can find three more of them that’s pretty much the same thing as a normal towel.”

“Great,” said MK, patting dry his face before moving onto his hair.

Monkey King sniffed.

“Is that sarcasm I’m getting from you?” he asked.

“No! No, no,” said MK seriously, but he couldn’t help but laugh anyway. “Um– no, ignore that. I’m not laughing. I just thought it was funny.”

“Yeah, well, I sort of have double the hands you do except two of them are my feet so you can’t have too many hand towels laying around.”

“Not the hand towels. I mean, that’s funny too, but I meant like– our dynamic. The Monkey King and the Monkie Kid! What does that even mean?” laughed MK.

“Uh– well–,” said Monkey King with a frown. He cautiously watched MK, but his hands were still busy digging away.

“Because– well–,” MK snorted, “it makes it sound like you’re my dad or something. That’s funny.”

“aCK– h–U–ck– guh .”

“Are you alright, Monkey King?”

“I think you’re delusional. It’s the cold getting to you. Here, take another towel.”

Something fuzzy smashed into MK’s face. This towel had a mysterious black smudge, so there was at least a 20% chance of MK getting cursed or something. He draped it over his shoulders.

“‘Prince’ has a nice ring. Not sure if it’s really me , though. Is it possible we can workshop that?”

“ Excuse me?” said Monkey King.

“ Prince MK of Flower Fruit Mountain ,” announced MK in a dramatic drawl. “Maybe a Sage, kind of Equal to Heaven!”

“ MK , what on Earth are you going on about?”

MK turned to look at Monkey King, who was staring at him as if he had shown him a drawing that was more of a scribble than a drawing, and he was trying not to hurt his feelings because he didn’t know what the scribble even was.

“The monkeys,” said MK, as if it was obvious, “and everything they said.”

Monkey King’s mouth fell open.

“You– you can hear the monkeys !?”

“Can’t you?”

“Wh– OF COURSE I CAN! I AM A MONKEY!”

“Well apparently you don’t have to be a monkey to hear the monkeys. I think it's a Staff thing.”

“No, I don’t think it is– can we back up? You heard every single thing those monkeys said? The whole time?”

“Give or take a week,” corrected MK innocently.

Monkey King, Great Sage Equal to Heaven, stood up, walked briskly toward MK, and smushed another towel into his face.

“ WHY ?”

“For not telling me! You cheek! Ugh !”

“So you were embarrassed,” said MK with a smile.

“We– okay!” Monkey King took a deep breath, but it didn’t do much to his reddened face. “You and I are saving this discussion for another time. I need to talk to the troop, because– ugh ! This is fine– are you sure you’re hearing monkeys?”

“I hope it was the monkeys. Otherwise I’d actually have something important to get checked out. Is it true you got stuck in a barrel of turnips and then had to waddle in it all the way home?”

Monkey King’s tail circled around MK’s arm as he leaned in close.

“I am going to kill those monkeys,” Monkey King whispered, mortified.

#lego monkie kid #lmk mk #lmk sun wukong #lmk sunburst duo #sun wukong

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bigassbowlingballhead · 4 months ago

Note

so we all know that my dreams are weirdly hyper realistic and plot driven so buckle the fuck up.

number one: everything (like, the rules of reality) was the same as real life except i guess my bf didnt exist (sad but necessary for the plot i suppose). im at thanksgiving at my parents house, which is a weekend long affair. tzp and redacted are married and also there bc they are my friends i guess. im definitely better friends w taylor than redacted but redacted and i get along and like each other. okay. the scene is set.

so, im preparing dinner with my dad and aunts like usual. taylor and redacted have slept in but taylor comes out to help eventually. he is fresh from a shower and wearing a very tight shirt. we talk while i cook and it’s clear that i need to fuck this man like, yesterday. within the dream logic, this is not the first time ive fucked around with him — this is a thing that we do. go me!

so we’re like okay, where can we go, bc i have a one story house and it’s full of family members at thanksgiving. i mean FULL. and redacted is sleeping so we dont wanna bother him, but there is literally nowhere that we can go that a family member wouldnt also be there and see us (damn you, open floor plans!!!) so what else can we do but go outside behind the pool shed, obviously.

now, it IS november in philadelphia, so it’s not WARM, but we’re making it work. i got this man bent over in a tiny corner of backyard, shirt fully off, making him see god. weve got our shoes on and mostly pants except for the important parts. hes not making as much noise as i want him to make (bc duh, we gotta be quiet), but im doing my damnedest to make him squeak, so im touching every inch of him that i can. i remember that i was thinking “i wish i had another hand to grab his hair, bc i already have one hand on his balls and the other on his dick and im not willing to give up on either of those for the sake of making him arch his back.” obviously this was a tough decision by me, but what are you gonna do. also at this point important to mention that i dont actually remember all the details, just flashes of stuff and general vibes. i was definitely like “hurry up and come man, we are on borrowed time here,” but taylor was apparently in no rush no matter how much i played with his dick. also at some point i put my hand on his stomach and could feel his abs and how he was moving every time i did and whew. that was hot.

so TRAGICALLY we were interrupted before the grand finale. i am not pleased but hey, if it’s time for dinner then it’s time for dinner. so i sit next to tzp at dinner and redacted sits on the other side and im TRYING to enjoy my MEAL but those two are definitely doing something under the table. whores.

things get a little weird and dreamscape-y here so i’ll skip most of dinner but the only relevant plot point that came up is i found out about something thats been seriously irritating me at work is happening again and so i was kinda pissed. but anyway.

so after dinner all the cousins decide to get in the pool which is insane to do bc it is NOVEMBER and my parents never even have the pool open at thanksgiving, but it’s my dream so fuck weather patterns in guess. so we’re all in the pool and taylor has clearly still not gotten off and redacted and i are having a good time messing with him, you know how it goes, standard pool shenanigans but nothing too bad bc my parents are RIGHT THERE so. keep it pg. but after we go inside?? oh all bets are OFF.

now here’s where things go bad for me. we go inside and we’re only in our towels and we’re all three looking for a place to fuck and we CANT FIND ONE. it’s only a three bedroom house and all three bedrooms are occupied. for some fucking reason we try my parents room first (which im glad was occupied bc i would not be down to fuck in my parents room, ick), but my little sister and my cousin are in there watching a movie with the little cousins, so thats a big fat no thank you. then we go to my sister’s room which yeah, i wouldnt feel GREAT about fucking in there, but it’s a redacteds threesome on the table and if i have to do it i will. but thats where my uncle and aunt are sleeping and hes in there napping after all the pie so thats another no go. so now im pretty pissed off bc of the work thing and also pls why cant we find a place to just FUCK.

so we go into my old bedroom and im thinking this will be fine, this is where redacted and taylor are sleeping anyway, (why didnt we go there first? whos to say) this will be open and we can get down. but we get in there and two people ive never met before are in the bed. what.

so my family tends to take in a lot of strays around the holidays. if you dont have a place to go for thanksgiving and you know a relative of mine, you are automatically invited to my parents house. theres always like 5-6 unrelated people at dinner just bc my uncle or cousin or whomever showed up and was like “i have extras!” and my mom is always like “dope! come in and eat!” it’s a lovely representation of the welcoming nature of my family and culture and it’s something that i always love to see around the holidays but it is also currently FUCKING ME OVER BC I JUST WANT TO BANG THESE MEN IN PEACE!!!

so im like “excuse me, with all due respect, who the fuck are you.” and the one guy was immediately rude (sir you are in MY BED) and was like “your mom said we could stay here so fuck off.” and im like??? YOU fuck off?? but then another part of me is like “no, your mother raised you better than that, you need to be welcoming to people so they dont feel unwanted.” the thing is that at this moment they are in fact VERY unwanted. so taylor is also pissed and redacted is trying to calm him down but keep in mind that taylor hasnt finished still so hes a bit bitchy. and redacted is like “what if we just went and got a hotel room somewhere,” and im like NO, we are in nothing but our bathing suits, we are all horny and ready to go, this is HAPPENING.

so i go back into my parents room and i ask my cousin hey have you seen my mom and also maybe you guys could watch the movie in the basement bc desperate times call for desperate measures and im not gonna fuck in my parents bed but maybe the floor would be fine. and shes like i think your mom is doing the dishes but why do you need a bedroom all to yourself? and i just gave her a look and i was like come on. why do you think. and she asked “ohh, okay, so wait, where do you see this going with taylor?” and i was like “oh it’s not going anywhere, he’s married to redacted, we just fuck around. it’s great, sometimes redacted joins, sometimes not, but it’s always a good time.” and she was somewhat scandalized and i was like oh right. within the context of my family that would be an objectively insane thing to just drop like that.

so anyway. after that the dream gets all weird and dreamy (there was some plotline with kamala harris i think? i think i worked for her? but she was actually also my irl boss interchangeably? idk). but thats the story of how i fucked taylor at thanksgiving in my subconscious. also i just remembered that while i was fucking him and had my hand on his stomach i could feel the outline of my strap through his abs. have a good day i love you 😘

the outline of your strap though his abs is CRAZY GIA. i love it.

also where'd the strap come from, was it stored behind the pool shed for safe keeping, are you just strapped at all times always ready to bend over a gay man? (me next)

#box talk #basil-bird

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fromtheshadowsnyc2 · 4 months ago

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Entry 1: New York State of Mind

[All dividers are credited to @saradika-graphics]

[Green Divider is credited to @firefly-graphics]

God, I hate living here.

I think that about a thousand times a day. When I’m forced awake from my alarm, when my mom yells at me to shower and get ready for another day at school. When I’m putting on the uniform for that snotty school I’m somehow attending. When I’m packing my little brothers’ lunchboxes while chewing on a freshly toasted poptart. When I’m dragging my feet to the train station. When I’m boarding the 6 train with the crowd waiting on the elevated station. When I get off at a station downtown and have to inhale the fresh ick from the subway as I walk up to the surface. When I have to dodge every idiot tourist or every other person trying to commute and live their lives.

You get the gist. No one hates New York more than someone who was actually born here. And it only gets worse the more you get randos from other states moving in and getting rid of what you actually loved about this place.

Ugh, another one?

I frown at a new store sitting in the corner, where one of my fave bodegas used to rest. Replaced by another pretentious coffee shop/bakery mix. Probably run by some hipster idiot who will call 311 to complain about the loud Spanish and hip-hop music in the neighborhood.

Really tragic, honestly. Abdul was the only guy in this part of Manhattan who made a decent chop cheese. Plus, I liked his cat.

Unfortunately, this kind of cultural casualty has become all too common in the city these past couple years. From Washington Heights to Brooklyn, there’s barely anything that resembles the real NY anymore. Even Queens isn’t safe. It won’t be long until it infects my neck of the woods. It’s inevitable at this point.

Best that I can do is just dart my eyes forward and keep on walking.

The Stockman Academy for the Sciences is one of those fancy private schools you can only attend if you win a school scholarship—or if you’re a millionaire.

Or, if you’re…

“Nice to see you showed up on time, charity case,” says a prim voice as I walk into homeroom. She’s surrounded by her usual minions, and making a show of fixing her make-up, her eyes on a compact mirror. “I was starting to think you finally gave up.”

A retort does claw at my throat, but I hold it back and just walk to the furthest seat away from her, my fists trembling in the pockets of my school sweater. If there’s anyone in this school who walks around like their ass doesn’t stink, it would be Antonia Stockman—who is, of course, the only daughter of the school’s founder and current CEO the city’s most prominent science industries. Why does she feel the need to bother me? No idea. Far as I know, I didn’t do anything to her. Most days, I just use the same method I used back in my old school. Keep your head down, eyes forward, and mouth shut. No one can hurt you if you become invisible, right?

It’s just…very difficult, when you’re a poor kid surrounded by the children of New York’s elite. Everyone notices you’re different then. Like a smell you can’t wash off.

The moment I sit and set down my backpack, I reach inside and pull out a book I’ve been trying to finish. I’d go on my phone, but they aren’t allowed in school, which just makes my insides twist. I really want to message Cleo right now. Chatting with her always makes me feel better. Plus, it’s been so long since we hung out or even had a real conversation. Things have been a little…weird between us since I started attending Stockman Academy. In a way that makes me a little too anxious. What could be going on with her?

It’s not even eight yet, and I already feel like I’m going to vomit.

Going to classes is a reprieve from anything involving socializing. I’m actually a decent student, and the teachers here make things interesting. (I guess there’s something to what my mom said about me needing a challenge.) But my favorite subject? It's a senior English elective, Investigative Journalism, which is taught by—

“So, can anyone tell me the impact of Upton Sinclair’s book The Jungle?”

My hand shoots up immediately and I make sure to keep eye contact with her. Pretty sure the selection isn’t hard, since barely anyone answers most days. Usually, in any other class, I’d join them in the usual student apathy—but of all the teachers in this school, she’s who I want to impress most.

She glances around the room before smiling at me. Then she gives a nod. I sit up, a nervous excitement fluttering through me. It’s nice to be noticed, sometimes.

“Because Sinclair revealed its grisly practices and what exactly was going in their products, the meatpacking industry had to change how they mix and package their meat. Including…”

I continue on for barely a minute, knowing I’ll probably end up talking too much. I don’t participate a lot, but when I do, my nerves make it hard for me to…well, stop talking. And I hate that, because I end up stuttering and sounding so…so dumb.

But not this time! I think, keeping my smile casual on the outside and beaming on the inside. No stutter, no rambling, I was perfect! I hope.

I truly do. Ms. O’Neil is not only the nicest teacher here, she is like The Journalist to learn from. Couple years back, she was the face you’d see in the mornings, talking about the issues and stories many news outlets refused to discuss. She called out the previous mayor and the NYPD commissioner for their neglect of crimes in certain areas, especially the still growing gang activity. Especially regarding news about the most recent gang that’s popped up, the elusive and dangerous Foot Clan.

No idea how she ended up teaching here. But I did notice sometime last year or so, she wasn’t reporting the news as much. A lot of the stories she’d been updating had been pushed aside for celebrity scandals and other big fluff pieces. Nothing that really mattered. For a while, her old network seemed to pretend she didn’t exist.

Maybe she finally said too much. Maybe she finally pissed off the wrong person. Whatever the reason, I’m glad to see she’s still around—and that she’s teaching my class. She makes me feel like I still have a little luck.

“You did good today, kid! I see you’re growing more confident,” she says to me after class, her grin wide.

I feel ready to burst out of my skin and turn into butterflies. She’ll never really know how much that means to me, coming from her.

“Thanks Ms. O’Neil! Um, are we still meeting after school on Friday?” I ask, referring to the school newspaper.

“Definitely! Gotta give you kids your assignments for next month’s issue. Unless you have any suggestions or requests?” she adds, her tone already knowing—but of course it is, she’s amazing—and eyes slightly narrowed behind her glasses.

My smile widens and I reach into my bag to pull out a folder.

“I actually have an idea for a series! Remember how we talked about New York’s gentrification a week ago? Well, I was thinking of going around certain spots in the city and talking about the longtime businesses still there. Like restaurants, bodegas, or indie bookshops, even—a lot of the stuff that helps a neighborhood retain its culture, y’know? I actually have some ideas already…”

My voice trails off as I pull out some pictures I took last weekend, of places I’ve been visiting since I was little. Fortunately, some things in the Bronx haven’t really changed too much. It still feels like home.

Ms. O’Neil looks at each picture, her smile growing and her eyes gleaming with each one. When her eyes meet mine again, I want to think she’s proud of me.

“This is a great idea, kiddo. Let’s talk more about it on Friday.”

Needless to say, I was on cloud nine for the rest of the day.

“—Aw, that’s awesome, dude! Ya think O’Neil will approve my idea too?”

“What? About the secret population of underground mutant humanoids or whatever? Please, Norman,” says my friend Sakina, rolling her eyes while sitting next to me.

“Oh, right, like your idea about aliens is any better!”

“At least I have evidence!”

“Based on old Japanese water paintings and mythology!”

“Oh? Oh, okay—!”

The old argument continues while I sit between them on the quad, but as annoying as it is listening to two weirdos argue about the same fucking thing, these two weirdos are the only friends I’ve managed to make at the academy. So, I don’t really mind. Too much.

“C’mon, dude, we need you as a tiebreaker! You gotta have an opinion on one of our theories,” Norman begs me, his voice nasally and grating. “Aliens vs. Mutants?”

Pressing my mouth closed, I let out a hum in negative while shaking my head. “No way, man. I’m not touching either of your corners of weird. Like, aliens—okay, that’s at least something people have talked about for decades. But mutants? Let alone a secret society of mutants?”

“Who choose to live in the sewers, of all places,” Sakina adds emphatically, her eyes rolling to the sky in near pleading before she murmurs a soft prayer in Arabic.

“Well, I mean. Would it really be a choice? Considering humanity’s track record of…well, everything?” Norman finishes in a cringe.

Still, the words weigh heavily in the air. We all look at each other before looking away in thought. Sometimes, in the face of the obvious, there is no perfect response.

Suddenly, Norman’s phone goes off. He quickly takes it out and unlocks it. When he sees what’s on the screen, he lets out a sigh and pushes up his glasses.

“That’s my mom. She’s waiting for me out front,” he grouses. Then he sends us a worried look. “You two sure you don’t want a ride?”

Surprisingly, Sakina smiles up at him. “Thanks, but I live all the way in Astoria, Norm. It would be too far out of the way.”

“Yeah, and I have to do a shift at Gino’s tonight,” I add. “Thanks, though. Discord later?”

He grins. “Hell yeah! I gotta play some Mass Effect tonight anyway. I’m this close—this close— to romancing Miranda.”

I chuckle, my chest bubbling with joy as I watch him walk away. Then I shake my head. That kid can be too much sometimes.

“The heck is Mass Effect?” Sakina asks, once he’s far enough.

“An old video game series. You might like it, though. It’s like a space opera thing,” I explain. Then, with a mischievous smirk, I add, “With aliens.”

“Hmm…are there aliens I can seduce?”

I nod. “One of them has tentacles—on her head.”

Sakina’s eyes widen. “Hmm! Color me intrigued.”

I laugh, and then start standing up.

“C’mon, we got a train to catch.”

The train ride with Sakina is fairly smooth and quiet, considering we’re going further downtown. We were fortunate to be able to find a car that was roomy enough for us to find seats next to each other. For a good few minutes, we sit in peace—at least, until.

“…For what it’s worth, I’m glad you’ve chosen to write about something else,” Sakina speaks softly. “Other than…”

Her voice trails off, but she doesn’t have to say it. I already know.

“A baby journalist’s hit piece on the Foot Clan?” I finish, my voice rather dry.

“Girl, you know it would have been dangerous. O’Neil freaked when you even suggested it!”

“Believe me, you don’t have to remind me…”

I already remember.

(“Absolutely not!”

“But why?!”

“Because they are dangerous, kid! They’re not just a bunch of cosplayers who dress as ninjas for fun, they hurt people. And they will do worse to anyone snooping around!”

“You think I don’t know that?!” I yelled back, tears springing to my eyes. “O'Neil, they’ve started recruiting people around my ‘hood! They’ve killed or taken people I know—and no one in this city is doing anything about it! No one thinks we’re important enough.”

“That’s not—”

“The only person who did was you! And you’re not doing it anymore!”

“…”

“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…I’m sorry.”

There was this…this look on her face. Her jaw slack. Her eyes were vacant. Like she wasn’t there for a moment—like she was somewhere else. It frightened me. What happened to her? Why did she stop working for the news?

But in a sharp breath, April O’Neil was back and looking at me with shining dark eyes. Her hands went to my shoulders.

“Kid, the only reason I became so good at what I do is because of the connections I’ve made. Some that are more special than others. The only reason I’m still breathing today is because of those connections,” she told me, her voice full of a fear that scared me deeply, in a way I didn’t understand. “But you…you’re still a kid. This is not a battle you should fight…not on your own. You have to leave it to those who can.”)

I wanted to retort some more, but my momentum was already gone after the confrontation. I was just left feeling much like a know nothing kid. And isn’t that the truth? Yeah, sure, it feels like giving up but—I have to face the truth. Who am I compared to the great April O’Neil? Maybe it’s just best to stay in my lane.

Talking about the parts of NY yet to be gentrified? Much safer. And it’s still something I care deeply about. Hopefully, the students who read The Stockman Herald will like it too.

“Trust me, I learned my lesson,” I tell Sakina. “No pursuing dangerous people for the sake of a story.”

“Good. Wait until you’re a real journalist. Or at least until you know how to actually fight.”

“Hey, I came from an area where fights happen every second of every day! You can’t blame me for having a conflict aversion.”

Sakina points at her head and says in a drawl, “I literally broke a fuckboy’s nose for attempting to tear off my hijab, I have all the right to blame you.”

I let out a chortle. “Okay, okay! You don’t have to keep reminding me. I’m well aware of your badass status.”

We both share a smile and then shift our conversation to other topics, like the other classes we take and what else we plan to do for the school newspaper. By the time it’s time for Sakina to get off and transfer to her next train, I feel my mood has lifted more than quite a bit. Even still not getting a response from Cleo doesn’t bother me as much; I’m sure she’s just busy.

I put in my earbuds and turn on my playlist, allowing myself to ride the calm of the subway ride. Might as well enjoy the peace now, before I spend the next few hours helping to make and deliver pizza.

#writing #tumblr fyp #fypage #first entry #fypツ #fypシ #foryoupage #tmnt #tmnt fanfic #tmnt au #april o'neil #tmnt oc #first-person POV #teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt x reader #sort of reader-insert #reader insert #no use of y/n #((my first TMNT fic ever and i know it seems to have an odd premise bare with me))

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bishiglomper · 26 days ago

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the last 10 minutes before going up to bed were so Monday coded omfg

It started when I knocked down a box of baking soda. It fell behind the cupboard it was sitting on. But hey, it led me to finding my missing bottle of sugar free syrup. spiced cranberry. I was missing it this Christmas 👀

So anyway my sister gets it for me becauseits trapped real good. She used a broom handle while I reached over the top to grab it.

It didn't want to go. I was waiting patiently with fingers poised.

I screamed when it came loose because it went all POP GOES THE WEASEL and went up and over toward my face. I literally had the split second of the impression that I was being attacked like it was a fuckin oppossum or something 🤣

There was another bottle. Also a bit stuck. I had a hold of it but had to pull hard.

Then like that kinetic energy ball toy; I pulled, it popped, I knocked an entirely different bottle into my head. Right on the ridge of my brow. I'm gonna so be disappointed if I don't have a bruise.

Then sissy asked me to pour the kid some dr pepper. I did, set it back down on the stove, turned around--

Splash. All over the floor.

Floor is now wet and sticky. Big sensory ick.

Then ANOTHER drink spills. Just on the stove. But immediately after the soda. I yelled at it.

I cleaned it up. Did a few things. Tied up trash.

Hate it. Things touch me. The bags fell off the rim and i had to dig for them. Sissy saved me from the second bag. Started to get ready for bed.

We're going out shopping tomorrow. Realized I needed a shower before I was released in public but I was now sticky and had touched trash so. It feels validated. (I also take a shower after doing litterboxes... which is why those are such big spoons. They're a combo..)

Anyway.

I have to carry the 2.5 gallon jug of tea to the fridge. The door won't stay open so I gotta wait until I get there, prop it on a corner of shelf and then heave it into the fridge. It's hard for my weak noodle arms but sissys arm is still recovering.

Went to wash out my cup. It tipped over after filling and it splashed INTO MY SLEEVE.

Feet are wet and sticky. Now arm is wet and clingy.

Getting exasperated at this point. But in a more manic "lol you motherfucker. ...Stop it." sort of way

Then I open the fridge to pour myself fresh tea when. A door shelf just falls the fuck out. With snacks and shit.

I'm pretty much like "TKMLAJFSK WOULD YOU FRIGGIN STOP THAT!!" I'm feeling like personally attacked at this point

My sister took pity on me and fixed up the shelf. She also fixed the fact that the tea jug was pushed out too far because something was behind it. Which is why the door shelf fell in the first place.

After that I was like "You know, i have been trying REALLY HARD not to have a meltdown."

Then I realized I hadn't taken any of my meds today

And then I was impressed that I had not had a meltdown. Because I'm super sensitive lately, if I don't get my antidepressant back to back, I get weepy super easily.

And I hadn't cried AT ALL TODAY. EVEN AFTER ALL THIS BULLSHIT.

So, yeah. FUCK YOU, BROWNIES. 🖕

#just rambling #lol #just whining #mondayvibes

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nerdieforpedro · 1 year ago

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Can't win cariño

Javier Gutierrez x GN reader

Rating: Teens and above

This blog is for readers 18+ MDNI

Word Count: 819

Summary: Javier whisks you away for a vacation. Your stubborness leads to some change in plans, but it's Javi. He always manages to figure it out and find one solid way to question his judgement.

Warnings: Javi G being himself, fluff, very soft, two food mentions (because it's been a while - I've got to maintain my Nerdie food cred)

Notes: This is from the wonderful blerb @frenchiereading gave me to work with. Hehe 😘 Your next one will take a bit longer. I did use a few of the pictures you had in the ask moodboard. Do you remember which ones? 🥸

Main Masterlist / Javier Gutierrez Masterlist

“Por favor (please) just a week. Una semana mi amor (A week my love).” Pools of russet eyes framed with sienna tufts of curls wore you down in bed. He could ask you for anything with those orbs. You’d tell him you would think about it and you would. In less than two minutes you’d agree but it did still count. Sort of.

This time, Javier has whisked you away on a much needed vacation for you both. Work has been mentally draining per usually and even Javier who exudes positivity like a ball of sunshine was a bit dim after back to back meetings with different producers who kept wanting to change different scenes in his scripts which would alter core parts of what he’d written. He didn’t tell you where you were going until you reached the airport. The two of you had gotten in one of the international lines and finally when your tickets were uploaded on your phone, you squealed.

"Saint Lucia!"

Beautiful white beaches, perfect temperatures, the resort was immaculate. The first day and a half was wonderful as you settled in with Javi and explored a bit. Your first mistake was not checking what temperature the ocean water might be and the second was despite jumping in the water and discovering it was frigid, you splashed around as Javi watched from the beach, wisely only dipping his feet up to his ankles. He was trying to have you come back in after twenty minutes, but it was too much fun. The contrast between the warmth on your shoulders and the cold water splashing intermittently on your body was much too enjoyable. It was over an hour before you finally emerged from the water.

It didn’t happen at first, after coming back in and showering, the two of you showered, ate lunch and cuddled with a movie on the sofa. The sneezing started, followed by the stuffy nose and chills pms shaking you to your core. By the time the sun set, you refused to get in bed with Javi as you hadn’t listened to him and now were ruining your vacation together. A shivering mass under blankets is what you’ve been reduced to. It’s horrible, you feel horrible and you know as sweet as Javier is, he would never tell you I told you so or express his frustration while you didn’t feel well but you know he had to feel both.

”Cariño (sweetheart), you’re coming to bed or I’m joining you on the sofa. I will not sleep alone.” Javier had his arms crossed with a stern look on his face. It’s not a look you saw often, only reserved for when you’re being stubborn like now. You pulled a blanket partially off your head to expose your eyes and top of your head. You kept your nose and mouth covered to try and control your germs.

“I’m not gonna get you sick. I need to stay over here. I’m so sorry Javi. I hadn’t been able to play around in water like that for quite awhile. Let me stew in my ick here.” The same pout that had let you on this trip, now was looking back at you. Your retreat inside your blanket cocoon was swift to avoid it. Javier was not one to give up. Settled inside the blankets, you cursed your sickness only to feel then ripped from you and a sudden exposure of air to your skin. He pulled the blankets you’d wrapped around yourself off in one go, a triumphant smile was on his face as he plopped down next to you. Your body turned away from him in protest, but he grabbed you from behind and stretched his arms around you with the blankets.

”No escape mi cariño. I’m in your burrito now.” The hair from his mustache ticked the back of your neck as your body relaxed. You did try like always to fight, but you weren’t going to win. The two of you fell asleep on the sofa, your backs angry with you the next morning. After breakfast, Javier ran you a bath and heavily encouraged that he wipes you down, then applies vapor rub to your chest and doesn’t let you wear more than a robe. When you asked why, he replied, “since you soaked yourself in cold water yesterday, you should air out for the day.” This leads to the two of you not leaving your room and Javier assisting in regulating your body temperature multiple times. Best sleep you’ve had in quite a while though.

Over the week, your cold runs its course and Javi takes you around the island to explore instead of just the resort. He never did get sick, you wonder how he managed to do it. Javier describes some soup that involves iguana tail and chicken feet.

You decide that your cold was not that bad.

#pedro pascal characters #fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #javier gutierrez #javier gutierrez x reader #javi gutierrez #Javier Gutierrez x gn reader #A Nerdie fic

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alfhitchblonde · 2 years ago

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WIP

Robin sighed. “Promise?”

Steve held up his pinky. “Pink swear, Buckley.”

They wound their pinkies together tightly, staring into the other’s eyes.

“I love you.” Robin said softly. “So fucking much.”

“I love you too.” Steve felt his own tears welling up. Fuck when did he get so soft?

“Now,” Robin cleared her throat. “Put on a fucking shirt. I hate seeing your gross ass chest hair.”

“Hey,” Steve swatted at her. “The ladies love it.”

“It’s like you have a shitty shag rug glued to your chest.”

“You’re a mean bird, Buckley.” Steve tightened the towel around his waist, opening the door wide.

“Oh god,” Chrissy squeaked, turning her head to the side and putting a hand up. “Oh god, I didn’t realize you were busy. Don’t mind me.”

“Oh shit!” Steve shut the door to hide, leaving it open just wide enough for his head. “Sorry Cunningham, didn’t expect anyone upstairs.”

“No my bad,” Chrissy was rapidly turning red. “Clearly you and Robin are busy. I’ll come back later.”

“Ahhh no no no,” Robin shoved her way out of the door as she waved her hands. “It isn’t what it looks like. Steve and I are platonic. Like capital ‘P’ platonic. I would never ever date him.”

“You don’t need to make it sound so awful,” Steve pouted as Robin whipped around.

“Shut up Dingus.” She hissed before turning back to Chrissy.

“See I was just helping Steve out with some medical stuff.”

“So he couldn’t be wearing pants?” Chrissy peeked out at the girl, confused.

“Well, okay so like we were chatting while he was showering. Which isn’t that weird, everything was fully covered. And like girls and guys can be best friends without being sexual. Oh god, can you imagine us being sexual Steve? Capital ‘I’ in ick. Like it would be so awful and to see your penis in a sexual way is just. But actually, it’s really any p–”

Oh my god. Steve swung open the door and slammed a hand on Robin’s mouth, pulling the girl close to cover himself.

“Birdie, I think that’s enough,” Steve gave Chrissy a tight smile. “Sorry Chris, did you need something?”

“I, uh,” Chrissy refused to make eye contact. “The kids were wondering if you had extra sodas and they just started so I ran up the stairs cause Nancy was on your house phone and I didn’t want to bug her.”

“There are a bunch in the garage. Sorry, I would have brought them in but, you know, lost track of time,” Steve gave her his most charming smile. “I’ll be down in a minute to get you guys situated snack-wise.”

“Oh you don’t have to–”

“No trouble!” Steve’s voice took on a new octave as he tried to hurry the situation. “No trouble at all! Thanks, Cunningham.”

“Yep!” Chrissy was equally pitchy as she all but ran down the stairs.

Steve yanked Robin into his bedroom, slamming the door. “Fucking hell Rob.”

Oh fuck!” Robin pushed off Steve, pacing. “Did I just out myself? Shit. Shit shit shit.”

“I think we’re okay,” Steve said, going to the closet. “I think I caught you in time. But hell. We really got to work on your rambling.”

“What can I say?” Robin squawked, flapping her arms. “She’s a pretty girl. Granted, a straight pretty girl, but like. I don’t know! I had to make sure she knew I wasn’t into penis.”

“Specifically my penis,” Steve grumbled, yanking on his yellow sweatshirt.

“Oh does it hurt that the fucking lesbian doesn’t find your penis attractive?” Robin mocked, collapsing onto his bed. “It hurt your feelings?”

“Stop saying the word penis. Jesus.” Steve said yanking on a pair of blue plaid briefs. “It sounds wrong coming out of your mouth.”

“Probably 'cause I’m a big ol’ lesbian,” Robin deadpanned. “But what did you want me to say? That I liked your penis? Gross.”

“I’ll have you know a lot of people think my dick is amazing,” Steve jabbed, yanking on a pair of jeans on the floor. “A lot of people.”

“I’m not one of those people,” Robin snapped. “Your dick is like, I don’t know, average.”

“Average?” Steve growled. “I’m above average thank you very much.”

“Alright fine,” Robin sat up, throwing her hands in the air. “You have an above-average dick. I’m sorry. You happy now?”

“I am actually,” Steve sat on the bed, yanking on a pair of socks. “Thrilled.”

“Glad I could help,” Robin rolled her eyes.

Well fuck you, Buckley, Steve thought as he stood up.

More bits of this HERE

#wip excerpt #stranger things #chrissy cunningham #robin buckley #steve harrington #steve and robin #it’s actually a steddie fic #that I only work on when I’m high as a kite #literally everyone has to live I’m not doing this sad shit anymore

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imichelle-l-rigby · 1 year ago

Text

Reflections: Cillian Murphy’s Limited Edition

Season 3, episode 4

✨almost 2 weeks late✨

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*I am a music prof (predominantly classical vocalist), and I LOVE listening to Cillian’s music choices! That being said, sometimes I won’t like a song simply because of a vocalist (it’s a professional hazard - sorry!) 👩‍🏫

** The following are my own observations/opinions. We may not agree, and that’s ok! That’s what makes music fun! 😊

*** I wouldn’t say I’m well-versed in Cillian’s music preferences, but I do enjoy them (for the most part). I always wind up adding to my own playlists after listening to Cillian’s recommendations.

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Hi everyone, thanks for your patience! Here are my thoughts on episode 4:

🎵Set 1 (Makondi - Theme from Failure)

Makondi: percussion makes me so happy! 😊 no specific thoughts other than there needs to be more percussion songs heard in the mainstream.

Hey Dostla!: ok but the background rhythm reminds me of the “Lip Gloss” song by Lil Mama and that’s all I hear now 😂

Theme from Failure: I like the gradual building of rhythmic layers. Again, definitely inspired by minimalist/tape looping technology from the ‘60s. More importantly, this song had me rolling! 😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂

🎤Talking Break:

Of course he prefers Autumn (or as I say, Fall, because I’m American and “leaf fall down”😂)

Of course he watches an old movie by the fire during a rain shower.

“Inane anecdote”

An exclusive!!!!

Oooohhh… playing with Ornette Coleman!

Awwww, sweet that he’s using music that his kids recommended!!

Fun - more Nina! 😊😊😊 and yes, now I wanna know why she hated this song/album.

🎵Set 2 (The Family - Time Is On My Side)

The Family: this is sooooo “trendy” for Nina! I need to listen to more of her discography rather than singles. I’m not sure how often she went more “pop” than jazz, and now I wanna know.

Please Don’t Go: Stevie!!!!! 😍😍 his voice is sooooo smooth! I could just listen to him all the time. And I like the chord qualities in this piece - it’s not an out-of-the-box chord progression, but it’s also not cookie cutter. There’s depth to what he gives without it going overboard.

Irma Talks: yes!! 😂

Time Is On My Side: I looooove this song! I think this is a very singable range (I know that sounds weird, but a lot of songs today are in difficult ranges for most of the population. This is pretty accessible).

🎤Talking Break:

I love how he takes these big long inhales before he talks, like he’s been through a taxing day or something 😂

I haven’t heard “iteration” more than usual… 🤔

🎵Set 3 (Come Down Easy - Kim’s Sunsets)

Come Down Easy: patterned off early rock, for sure! It’s even got that whiny/tinny vocal tracking. The weird drone is cool! Idk how to describe it other than the sound of the wind when you’re driving with your car windows rolled down 😅😂

Kim’s Sunsets: interesting harmonies, but I hate the vocal qualities here! 😖😖😖 I like it instrumentally, but vocally, this is an ick!

🎤Talking Break:

Nice! Instrumental music!

My Russian is no better, no worries!

I do love old film music, and it’s interesting to hear what was being used in Soviet film music, especially! I could go on, but y’all would prob find that boring 😅

🎵Set 4 (Boys and the Sea - Muscle de sable)

Boys and the Sea: I LOVE THIS SO MUCH! The piano sounds almost like French Classical music (a lot of artistic sharing between the French and Russians at one point), and the seagull call recording is so haunting! I kinda wanna watch this film just from listening to this!

Muscle de sable: also a piece featuring random recorded sound clips! Much more modern sounding.

🎤Talking Break:

You can definitely tell his mama taught him French - he’s VERY good at it!

🎵 Set 5 (One Word - Secret Teardrops)

One Word: this is pretty fun!!! 😎 no thoughts, just synth vibes!

Secret Teardrops: I find it interesting that the vocal line is less prominent than the instruments. 🤔 granted, this is not a super skillful vocal line…

🎤Talking Break:

I’m glad you liked Secret Teardrops, Cill, but it’s not my favorite. Sorry 🤷‍♀️

Recent music!

Grief and music is such a complicated relationship.

🎵Set 6 (The Greater Wings - Mole in the Ground)

The Greater Wings: wow. This is so beautiful and touching. I’m in my feelings now.

Mole in the Ground: this transitioned so well from one song to the next! Instrumentally, it’s gorgeous. Sadly, I hate the mumble lyrics. 😖

🎤Talking Break

Ok but so many albums are dropping in my birthday this year!!!

🎵Set 7 (Your Silent Face)

Your Silent Face: very synth. And I did not expect a harmonica in the mix… 😅

🎤Talking Break

Ask a reasonable question!!!

Dude. Why jalapeños on popcorn???? Like… I passionately support all things spicy, but this is a weird one for me

HE IS SHAMING HOT DOGS. I know they’re gross mystery meat, BUT. hot dogs are part of my heritage! 😂 besides, kosher hot dogs are kinda amazing and less gross.

🎵Set 8 (The Heights)

The Heights: this reminds me of something but I can’t figure out what. Either way, this is so atmospheric. I feel like I’m back in HS/early college and life was so much simpler (until you get to the end). That has no objective value; however, that’s what I’ve got!

🎤Talking Break: (sorta)

I don’t guitar, but this is such a great story!!!

Beginning musicians are such a vibe. We all suck but are so brave at the same time. 😂 I kinda miss being a beginner.

Blue Monk: I am LOVING this! Blues picking is fab. 😎

Casbah: ooohhhh. I like this as well! The pedal point is interesting (which is hard to do) and I like how the melody dances all over the place.

��Set 9 (Can I Call You)

Can I Call You: why is this spooky??? 😰 in other news, the way the expected chord progression is constantly diverted is cool! And even the structure of the song keeps going in unexpected places. Well-done, but somehow reminds me of Halloween spooky times. 👍

🎤Talking Break:

I love how ppl from across the pond (is that a reasonable way to say from the UK or Ireland?) “Graham” - Americans make it 1 syllable

Yorkshire Man: “the OG Kate Bush, herself”

“Jaunty baroque number”

🎵Set 10 (Bertie - Mirror in the Bathroom)

Bertie: I’m trying to decide if this deserves the term “baroque.” 🤔 Maybe? Most baroque music is polyphonic, and this is still distinctly homophonic. However, it might could qualify for “early baroque inspired” (circa 1600) with the choice of instruments and emphasis on text. I do like this! Definitely agree with the term “jaunty”

Kettle factory! ☕️

Mirror in the Bathroom: this is such a weird song but I like it 😂 I’m also starting to wonder if Cillian just likes stuff with sax solos. He’s chosen a lot this season!

🎤Talking Break:

I am shocked it took this long for him to play Zappa

“Obsessed with Frank Zappa” don’t try to downplay it, dude.

🎵Set 11 (Love)

Love: YES this has a major Zappa influence, even with the George Duke component. I haven’t listened to a lot of Zappa (he’s got so much and I honestly don’t even know where to start), but from what I’ve heard, this has his fingerprints all over it.

🎤Talking Break:

I love how concerned he is with lowering our collective heart rates/bpm 😂

🎵Set 12(Heart to Know - The Veil I)

Heart to Know: reminds me of Philip Glass (minimalist composer) a little bit (specifically lulls in his opera Einstein on the Beach).

My heart rate is lowered. 💗

The Veil I: the transition from Heart to this is weird, but I like this song, too! I feel like I’m in a video game with all the electronic sounds.

🎤Talking Break

“Gentle music”

I also wanna see this movie!

🎵Set 13 (Theme de l’eau - Prayer and Procession)

Theme de l’eau: I do often associate flute music with Japanese styles (and some of the non-Western scales), but this also has a Mediterranean feel to it (guitar), and somehow French as well (accordion). Again, there’s a lot of cultural ties between France and Japan, so that’s not super surprising. Yeah. I wanna see what this film is about! I’m curious!

Prayer and Procession: has some Chopin funeral March vibes to it, as well as Protestant chorale/hymn elements.

🎤Talking Break:

Noooo don’t go!

Yay! More song recs from the boys!

“Mind yourselves”

🎵Set 14 (Sleep - Crescent of Sun)

Sleep: … this song does NOT make me wanna sleep! 😳 Cillian Murphy! It is not Halloween yet! Quit with the spooky songs!

I thought he was supposed to be “lowering my heart rate” - psh! I call BS!

20190127: my slightly number dyslexic self hated writing out that title. 🤦‍♀️ anyway, this is MUCH more relaxing of a piece! Another great example of using recorded elements in music. I like how the tones fade in and out like the tide (heard at the beginning I think).

Crescent of Sun: it’s almost like chamber music at the beginning. I’m wondering if the sun is going down or up. The instrument voicing gets higher (indicating upward motion), but the melodic motif goes down. Huh. Interesting!

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Phew! I finally got episode 4 done! Now let’s see if I can crank out episode 5 within the next couple of days before getting to the final episode! (😭😭😭😭😭 this isn’t his real job and it’s a limited series and it has to end soon)

Anyway, thanks for reading!

Tag list:

@iammrsrogers @deliciousnutcomputer @mariamoonie @brownskinsugarplum76 @look-at-the-soul @kj-davis @neverroad @teapothollow @thepurplearmyposts @possessedmarshmallow

#cillian murphy #Cillian Murphy’s limited edition

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